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discount-shades · 1 year

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Sleepy Baby Part 8

a/n: For whatever reason the tags are not working for this. I do not know if or when it will be fixed.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin X reader

Warnings: PG-13 Sexy times

Word Count: 1800 ish

Summary: Jake and Kisses define their relationship.

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“Hangman, take your girlfriend and go.” Bradley’s words made your brain stutter. Being asked to leave wasn’t surprising. You had misrepresented your poker skills to get in on the weekly poker game and with everyone putting up a $100 buy-in you were leaving happy with a very full wallet.

While you and Jake did almost everything as a couple neither of you had broached the topic of defining your relationship. The two of you were currently in relationship limbo and to make it more complicated you haven’t even had sex yet and not for a lack of trying on your part. Masking your surprise at being referred to Jake's girlfriend, you laughed. “G’night Brad Brad, This was fun, we should do it again!”

“You are never coming to poker night again.” He tells you, laughing. “I’d blame Hangman but he looks just as surprised to be hustled.” You glance at Jake and he is looking at you like he was just hit on the head. When you catch his eye he smiles at you, but not with his regular cocky grin, but with one that was more unsure. You try to smile back reassuringly but you can tell his reaction is not about the poker game and it is making you nervous. Jake usually just laughs whenever you beat him at something.

After your goodbyes you walk hand in hand to Jake's truck and he opens your door for you and helps you in like always. The constant door opening took a little getting used to. You always let him help you in but your impatience never lets you wait in the truck long enough for him to open the door to let you out. This was something you constantly teased each other over but tonight he is silent.

You are halfway home before Jake speaks. “We are more than friends. We’re dating right? I mean, I am your boyfriend, and you are my girlfriend, and we are official right?” Jake is rambling and stumbling over his words. “Because we never talked about it and I just sort of assumed.…” He is so different from his usual calm collected self and you are immediately relieved now that you know what was bothering him.

“If we’re not dating I have some questions about how you treat your friends,” you look at his profile as he drives. You can see the relief hit him as he looks between your face and the road. His cocky grin is back in place and you find yourself smiling in return.

Jake reaches over for your hand and places a kiss on the back. “Yours or mine?” He asks, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Yours.” Ever since the first night you had spent together you had been sleeping at each other's place almost every night. Toothbrushes in each other's bathrooms had arrived first, quickly followed by changes of clothing. Jake had even gone out and bought your brand of shampoo and conditioner.

“So you are really good at poker,” Jake states it like a question. “When were you going to tell me?”

“I don’t usually tell people. I like to let them find out organically,” you respond.

“You mean when you hustle them out of all their money.”

“Yeah, I am a couple hundred dollars richer after tonight.” You look over at him grinning. “I like my method of letting people find out.”

“More than a couple, Jake interjects, “and one hundred of that is mine.”

“Was yours, Mine now.” you correct him and he just rolls his eyes and kisses the back of your hand again, always the gentleman.

When you finally walk through Jake’s door you turn to him and wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. At first Jake kisses you back, deepening the kiss but as you lean your body into his he gently backs off. The passionate kiss turns chaste and more respectful and you can barely contain your groan as he gives you one last kiss and walks further into his house.

This had been going on for over a week. Jake would hug you, kiss you, and hold you but he never let it get any farther. He still flirted with you but would never follow through with what he said. Whenever you had brought it up he would always say he would go at your speed.

At first you had tried to be subtle, slowly deepening his gentle kisses and tracing your hands along the muscles of his arms and chest. When that didn't work you had been less subtle, guiding his hands from your lower back to your ass. All that had gotten you was the fact that now he would grab or smack your ass randomly throughout the day.

A few days ago you had asked him to give you a massage and stripped to some cute lace panties and laid on his bed. All you had ended up with was a really good massage. When you had offered to return the favor he had fallen asleep as you straddled his ass and rubbed the tension out of his muscles. Gazing down at him as he slept, peacefully, the idea of smothering him with a pillow crossed your mind. You had never been so frustrated in your life.

So when Jake sat down on the couch with a video game controller you were done being subtle. You grabbed the bag you had brought over the day before and went into the bathroom. There you began to dress in the lacy lingerie set you had bought. Heart pounding the whole time. You wanted Jake and you were sure he wanted you, but you had never had to be the one to initiate things before. Today that would have to change.

Staring in the mirror you checked your reflection for any tags you forgot to remove and fixed your makeup. With a final fluff of your hair you take a deep breath and walk barefoot back to the living room wearing nothing but the lacy bra and panties. You walk around the corner and try to lean casually against the wall. “Hey Jake,” you say, watching him play his game, “I’m going to bed, you coming?”

“I’ll be a few minutes.” He doesn’t even look your way. You almost stomp your foot in frustration.

You walk further into the room and lean on the back of the loveseat. “Are you sure you don't want to join me now?”

Again he does not look at you, “I just want to beat this mission then I’ll be in.”

You grab a cushion off the back of the loveseat and walk up to Jake and hit him in the face with it. His startled response is cut short when he finally looks at you. His eyes go wide and his mouth drops open.

“Do I have your attention now, Jacob?” He nods in response to your question, pausing his game and throwing the controller on the coffee table. “Good because I have been trying to give you hints for well over a week now and it has not been working so this is me being direct. I want to have sex with you, Jake Seresin.”

“I was trying to be a gentleman,” he says, eyes raking your body with an intensity you can feel. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured and that I only want you for sex.”

“And I appreciate that, but right now I need you to keep the gentleman in the streets and not in the sheets.” You are now standing directly in front of Jake and he can't take his eyes off you. “Now I am going to go into your bedroom and I’m going to crawl into your bed and have an orgasm. It is up to you whether you are with me or not.”

Jake’s green eyes darken in desire and before you can turn to leave Jake surges forward and pulls you down so that you are straddling his lap. He tangles his hand in your hair, holding you still. “Kisses, all you had to do was ask.” His voice is hoarse and he leans forward and molds his lips to yours. The kiss is frantic and overwhelming in a way you have never felt from Jake. His lips leave yours only to trail down your neck before returning.

His hands are everywhere, running down your spine, caressing your thighs and cupping your ass, and urging you to roll your hips into him. You cling to his shoulders and run your hands down his biceps. You gasp into his lips as he stands with you in his arms and carries into the bedroom.

- -

You are wrapped in Jake's arms, legs tangled together and you can not help grinning at how well your evening has gone. “I guess we know how a date where I wear lingerie goes,” you say grinning up at him. His cheeks pinken slightly.

“I’m sorry I ripped it,” he says bashfully, causing you to grin even more at the difference between the blushing Jake in front of you and the man who ripped your clothes off earlier.

“I’m not,” you say gazing into his eyes. “It served its purpose.”

Jake leans down and kisses you tenderly, gently caressing your cheek. He leans back and watches your face until you open your eyes and look up at him. “Kisses, I’m in love with you.” You can feel your heart skip a beat at his words and a nervous energy floods your body. “I know you are not ready to say it back,” he continues as he gently rubs his thumb over your cheek, his eyes searching yours. “But I've been waiting to say it and I think you are ready to hear it, even if you’re not ready to say it back.” He leans down and kisses you again and you find yourself getting lost in the intimacy of his kiss, knowing he is right.

When he raises his head to look at you, you can’t help teasing. “You did that backwards.”

He rolls his eyes with a cheeky grin. “No, I’m pretty sure I got it right. You came twice and I came once,” he shrugs. “Seems like the perfect ratio to me.”

“Ok, first off don’t limit yourself, there is always room for improvement on your ratio.” you laugh at his offended look. “Second, I was talking about telling me you love me.” You begin to run your fingers through his hair. “You are supposed to do that first to convince the woman to have sex with you. You did it after.”

“I didn’t want you to think it was contractual.” He says kissing you sweetly before abruptly flipping you onto your back. “But since you brought it up, I guess we have to do it again.” he says, winking at you. “After all, I need to work on my ratio.” His lips move down your body and your laughter quickly turns to gasps of pleasure.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman/reader #hangman #top gun hangman #hangman top gun #hangman x you #jake seresin x you #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #topgun maverick

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amandacanwrite · 2 months

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The Violet Thread of Fate ||

Reluctant Mentor Gale x Unskilled Wizard F!Tav

Length || About 4,000 Words

POV || Dual Narration, Third Person

Warnings || Descriptions of viscera, age gap (about ten years, both adults)

Summary || After waking up on the craggy shoreline of the sword coast, Elinna and Gale reunite with a new common ground.

A/n || I am feeling sort of on the fence about Gale's eagerness in his attraction to Elinna, but I also feel like it's still at least somewhat in character for him--after all in any playthrough you can wind up being blindsided by his feelings for you since he is usually so subtle about his affections. I also just think it's so fun to get the internal narration of Gale's attraction. He always seems so put together, polite and proper. I just love to see a man precariously balancing his carnal desires with his conscience and desire to be a good man. I hope you like it, I know things feel a little slow right now, but I'm planning on taking some creative liberties in the next couple parts. Please also lemme know what you think if you read it! I am absolutely tinkerbell and need the dopamine to live

Chapter Two: A Nightmare, An Awakening

Read Part One Here • Join Tag List Here

A Nightmare

Elinna thought she had died; thought the disintegration of her bodily form was the end of her short, unremarkable life. Much to her surprise, though when her vision once again returned to her she realized she had merely been spirited away somehow.

It took a few moments for her eyes to properly focus. When they finally did, she almost wished that the contact with the tentacle had killed her. It would have been far preferable to where she had wound up.

She found herself locked in a great chitinous pod, looking through smeared membranous glass at what she could only suppose was the nautiloid she had tried to escape from.

Yes…death would have been a far preferable fate to becoming a mindless thrall on a mindflayer ship. As she squinted through the clear panel in front of her and saw what appeared to be a brain walking on four spindly limbs, she realized that her fate could be even worse than regular enthrallment.

The minutes she spent entrapped in the pod felt like hours. A miserable limbo of wondering what would be coming next for her. What if she was already marked for turning into an intellect devourer? What if the enthrallment had already been put in place and she could simply be ordered to do something whenever a mindflayer so wished it?

She couldn’t just stay here. She had to move.

She tried, in vain, to wrench her arms free of the fleshy brindings within the pod. The sinuous tendrils only tightened more and more, leaving her fingertips throbbing and tingling from the blood flow being cut off. She tried to move her feet next and her boots sloshed in some sort of viscera at the base of the pod. She did her best not to vomit as the viscera eked some ichorous fluid into the fibers of her clothing and through the porous leather of her soft-soled shoes.

The last thing she needed in addition to all of this was to be covered in the contents of her own stomach–empty as it was.

The shock of panic cinched tight around her ribcage, making it hard to breathe. And as she struggled to get her lungs to fill, she also struggled to think.

“Calm down, Elinna,” she told herself. “Think about what you’ve read. Think about what you know.”

What did she know about Illithids? They were hivemind organisms. They required high-moisture, high-humidity environments to protect the mucosal membranes of their skin. They primarily fed on the brains of their prey and used psionic energy not only to fight but to control their biomechanical machinery.

She craned her head forward to look for some sort of control panel–something that could get her out of this cocoon of horror.

As she did, a valve-like door opened on the far side of the room, revealing a dizzying network of corridors. And…and one of them. A mind flayer.

Elinna went dizzy as her heart thumped in her temples. She watched in horror and sickly anticipation as it levitated toward something in the center of the room; a cistern of sorts from what she could see. It waved a four-fingered hand and the vessel opened, revealing a golden, glowing brine pool that may have been beautiful if Elinna didn’t know precisely what it was.

The mindflayer coaxed one of those disgusting tadpoles out of the amber liquid and levitated over to Elinna’s pod. She recoiled away from it as the pod opened, turning her face away from the creature and squeezing her eyes shut. She knew exactly how mindflayers reproduced, and she was not interested in getting a first hand experience with ceremorphosis.

She didn’t have much of a choice, though. Even without the parasite, the illithid was able to compel her to stillness.

It was an atrocious violation of her agency; surreal and nightmarish in the worst ways. Her mind was fully intact as the creature made her muscles release the tension they held and coerced her eyes to open. Her body was still and calm, but her heart was racing like a trapped rabbit’s. She watched uselessly as the tiny creature floated closer to her. She cried to cry out as it latched onto the orb of her eye and started to wriggle and squirm until it could find purchase beneath her eyelid.

She was silent. Infuriatingly, horribly silent as the creature continued to burrow its way into her skull.

Her pulse hammered in her ears as she screamed inside her own body, begging herself to fight, to tear her own eye out rather than let the process of ceremorphosis take place.

But her body was still as the tiny parasite worked its way into her eye socket and back into her brain.

Elinna lost consciousness as she felt the unsettling pressure of her brain matter being displaced to accommodate her unwelcome guest.

When she awoke next, she didn’t immediately know where she was. She only knew that it was loud and it was cold. The sound of air ripping past her pointed ears is what brought her back into full consciousness, and though her eyes were open, she wasn’t actually seeing at first.

There was a vast expanse of stars above her, the smell of salty air, the lingering cling of something far more acrid–like the smell of burnt sulfur woven into her clothes.

She tried to parse what was going on, it felt like she was sinking into the ocean–but if that were the case, shouldn’t she not be able to breathe?

Then she saw the burning wreckage of the Nautiloid and everything came back to her.

The travel to Waterdeep, the encounter with Mr. Dekarios, the parasite and…

And she was falling through the sky!

“Not again!” she cried as she stared at the ground rising to meet her with startling velocity. “No, no, no! I will not–This is not how I die!”

It didn’t go very well the last time, but it wasn’t as if she had any other ideas of what to do. She scoped out the approaching shoreline, selecting one spot and earmarking it. After choosing a point on a craggy cliffside, she shut her eyes and tried to gulp in a breath before it was whipped out of her mouth.

“Inveniam Viam!” she shouted.

That strange, surreal feeling of not moving, yet being in a different place came again, only this time it was followed very quickly by the feeling smashing into the ground beneath her, square onto her back. It wasn’t a far drop, perhaps only a few feet, but it was enough to hurt her. She blinked up at the sky above her, the glow of the stars somewhat dampened by the flaming wreckage of the nautiloid as it loudly crashed into the earth just a few moments after her.

She ached as she stood and looked out over the cliffside she’d misty stepped to, seeing the vast expanse of an unfamiliar coast crawling with intellect devourers and the blazing with fires choking out great plumes of black smoke. She dropped to her knees, feeling utterly defeated.

She had no idea where she was. She had no money. No food. Not even a change of clothes with her. She didn’t even know where she was–and she knew she was more than a little directionally challenged.

Her keepers at The Scribes Nest had told her not to leave; had warned her that there were dangers in the world. That she couldn’t hope to survive on the knowledge she’d amassed from books alone. That the lives of wizards often ended in folly.

She knew this, of course. She’d read extensively about every wizard she could find and more than half of them were done in by their own curiosity.

But the ones who hadn’t been rendered themselves undone…they were amazing. Elminster and Blackstaff. Lorroikan and Sammaster. Karsus and Dekarios.

Wait….

Gale Dekarios–he’d been touched by the tentacles, too!

And if she hadn’t died, then that meant he probably hadn’t either. If she could find him, if she could just appeal to him for one favor…maybe he could help her get back to Waterdeep. Maybe she would have an opportunity to prove to him that she could be a good apprentice; that she was worth the trouble of taking on as a student. Maybe he would know how to get rid of the tadpole squirming in her brain.

But none of that would happen if she just sat there on her knees and despaired.

She would need to get back up and put one bloody boot in front of the other.

She would have to be brave and she would have to trust that Mystra would guide her to what came next.

An Awakening

Hells…it just had to be a pocket dimension that saved him, didn’t it?

They were tricky little things–a slice of wild magic that functioned like an oubliette; a place to put things to be forgotten, or to be summoned at a different point in time. He’d used a few in his time, but never for more than storage during travel or to hide the occasional failed potion. He’d thought once that he might use one when it was clear that the orb would no longer be sated by the magic artifacts he consumed; discussed the idea with Tara before she requested not to speak of it until necessary.

“I don’t like think of that eventuality, Mr. Dekarios,” Tara had said to him. “I know I tend to be pragmatic…but it makes me far too sad.”

“Focus,” he scolded himself as he looked around the darkened pocket. He needed to find an opening–or at least find a way to make one, failing that.

It was a mistake that he’d even ended up in one in the first place. A mistake that stemmed from the first mistake when he’d tried to help that girl.

If he’d had any sense, he would have let her run and gone straight to help his mother and make sure Tara would be okay. He could only hope that they were still safely nestled at his childhood home in Waterdeep. At least he’d not seen either of them during his wanderings about the ship.

But then the spelljammer had lurched and started falling out of the sky, and he’d grabbed onto the strongest strand of weave he could find and followed it here. The unfortunate side of that, of course, was that the strength of that thread is precisely what made this particular pocket realm exceedingly hard to get out of. And the parasite so rudely deposited into his brain was not doing wonders for his ability to concentrate.

He held his hands up and closed his eyes, attempting to feel out the strands of weave in this darkened place. Wherever he’d been transported to, it felt very far away from Mystra indeed. Like whatever reality he’d blipped into was one almost entirely devoid of magic at all.

He focused a bit harder, the tadpole in his head wriggling with the effort. He continued to focus, trying not to think too hard about the unnerving sensation. Finally, with some challenge, he managed to pool some magic together. It felt similar to trying to collect enough morning dew on a leaf to drink.

There came a crackle, then a tear. Not nearly large enough to fit himself entirely through, but enough that he could get an arm out.

Perhaps with at least one hand in Faerun, he could channel whatever remaining weave he needed to fully escape this dark corner of nothing.

A sheen of perspiration shone on his brow as he felt around outside of the oubliette. He could feel the familiar moisture of coastal air and it sent a wave of relief through him. He wasn’t far from Waterdeep at all, then. Or at least he’d hoped as much.

Perhaps he could just appear on the main road and hurry straight to his mother to make sure that she and Tara were alright.

He was trying to grasp onto the weave when he suddenly felt the soft, almost tentative brush of fingertips on the palm of his hand.

A person! Perfect! There was no better way to anchor a teleportation spell than to another living soul. It would be a little complex to explain that, though, and he was sure a mysterious arm poking out of wherever he could reach was more than a little unnerving so he settled for simplicity instead.

“Hello?!” He called through the tear in the fabric of space and time. “Is anyone there? A hand? Please?”

He felt the hand withdraw for a moment, then it returned with what he assumed was the person’s other hand. One closed tightly around his fingers, the other grasped a bit higher, accompanied by the sensation of fingertips curling into the fabric of his sleeve. Small, gentle hands. Not small enough to be a child–but perhaps a woman.

He closed his eyes once more and took a deep breath, allowing himself to feel the energy of the stranger on the other side of the opening. He tapped into it, smelling the faint, sweetly lactic scent of peaches; tasting on the tip of his tongue the light flavor of…honeyscotch candy. If Mystra’s energy was violet in color…this energy was the color of the sky during sunrise…a gradient of lilac, rose and cerulean.

Pretty… he thought to himself before slamming the heel of his hand to his brow.

Focus you touch-starved buffoon.

“Whatever you’re doing is working wonders!” he said encouragingly. “I think if you just give me a good pull, I should come right out!”

The stranger pulled and he joined that effort by pushing himself through from the other side with what remained of that pooled bit of magic he’d gathered together.

Finally, he flew out of the pocket realm like a cork from a bottle, regrettably landing right on top of the poor woman who had helped him.

He was quick to shift his weight so he didn’t put the entirety of his considerable heft on the poor thing. Yet, his creaky knees slowed him down when it came to properly getting up. Then again…he couldn’t deny a certain reluctance to rise. He hated to admit it, and if anyone ever asked him he would deny it to the grave…but it was pleasant to feel the soft curves of a woman against him. A year was such a long time to be without it, and to feel warmth beneath him again…

It was a lascivious thought not becoming of a gentleman, he remembered, but one that occurred almost automatically much to his chagrin.

“Hells,” he said. “Forgive me miss. I’m usually much better at this–and usually not so long sedentary that my limbs can’t keep up with my manners. Allow me to–”

He lifted himself up onto his elbows and finally laid eyes on his savior.

It was the girl from before. What was the name? Elinna Inklynn.

She stared up at him with wide eyes and a face flushed with exertion. How hard had she needed to work to pull him out of that portal? Seeing her so close now, he picked up on some of the qualities he’d missed in the dim light of the Waterdhavian evening.

A constellation of mauve-tinged freckles dusted across her flushed nose and cheeks. In the daylight, her skin was almost pale pink. The soft swell of her lips sat slightly parted with a look of surprise. And her eyes…my those eyes were something to behold. Verdant as a sprig of mint and flecked with gold as if she had a vein of ore curling through the irises of her eyes.

“A-allow me to help you up,” he finally stammered. “You’re not hurt are you?”

“Not by you,” she said somewhat breathlessly.

He grunted slightly as he got back onto his feet, now allowing himself to think of the way her soft curves shifted beneath him. He reached a hand down and helped her back up to her feet as well, dusting off her theadbare apron and her slightly puffed sleeves. She was still flushed–perhaps dehydration or fever…or…

“You haven’t happened to have been on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region, have you?” he asked.

The flush could be a sign of the beginning stages of ceremorphosis.

“I couldn’t have phrased it more repellently myself,” Elinna replied.

“No use sugarcoating it, is there?” he asked with a smirk. “I don’t suppose you know what these little passengers will cause if left to their own devices?”

“Ceremorphosis,” she answered without missing a beat. “At least–if we don’t get it handled in a few days…”

Well, color him surprised.

It wasn’t very often that ceremorphosis was talked about among the common man–it was even hard to find books detailing the finer details of the process. The girl may have been a poor magician, but she was clearly learned.

“Suffice to say, it is a process that should be avoided,” he said.

“Agreed,” she said.

It occurred to him that she was behaving…a bit stiff; almost aloof. The young woman he’d encountered in front of his tower had a bit more fire to her than this one did. Then again, they’d just gone through quite the harrowing experience. Both of them were covered in mysterious viscera, they’d been taken hostage on a mindflayer ship and well–the poor girl did just have a strange older man on top of her.

The girl bit down on her lower lip and he found his eyes unconscionably glued to her mouth. She released her lower lip and he watched as the pale pink color returned to it, wondering idly what it would feel like to–

“Are we just—are we just going to pretend that I didn’t beg you to take me on as an apprentice and that you quite sumerilly told me to bugger off?” she asked. “Are we just going to be compatriots now?”

He blinked down at her, his mind catching up with her words.

Good gods, he really was behaving like a lech. He didn’t know where this was coming from. Perhaps it was an undocumented symptom of ceremorphosis–this…uncommon desire he was feeling.

Or maybe he was just, well, desperate.

“Well, I take umbrage with that analysis. I don’t believe I told you to bugger off…At least not verbatim. I do try to not be a miserable ass,” Gale said a bit sheepishly. “But I hasten to point out that we do have a shared problem now–some common ground we didn’t have before. It seems wasteful to part ways at a juncture such as this, don’t you think?”

He looked around in the early morning daylight and frowned realizing that he didn’t recognize anything. “I certainly don’t know the area after all, and judging by the history you disclosed with me, you likely don’t either.”

“Well…no, I don’t. Aside from Waterdeep I’ve not been anywhere other than the Moonshae Islands.” she said.

“And you seem to not have a very strong sense of location judging by our time in the alleyways,” he pointed out.

“That’s true…so then… does that mean you’ll do it?” she asked. “You’ll take me on as your student?”

He grimmaced.

“No,” he said with not a moment’s hesitation. “Not a student–an ally. An equal. It’s best that we tackle this issue together, don’t you think? It makes no sense to travel separately when our searching will likely lead us to the same places. And besides that…”

Besides that, if he started to change into a mindflayer, he wanted to be sure he had someone nearby who could…put him out of his misery and get his body somewhere safe before it leveled a city.

“But I could be more helpful if you teach me,” she pleaded. “I’d just be a liability without your help.”

“I have seen your magic,” Gale said with a bit of a teasing gaze. “And I don’t know if there is much I can do for someone who casts Misty Step with their eyes closed. It seems you’d be more of a liability with the magic than without.”

She blinked up at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Oh, please,” he said. “You must know that it’s a spell that requires a clear line of sight.”

She shrank a bit. “I…didn’t know. No,” she said.

“How could you not know such a thing? You must have read a scroll to learn the incantation,” he said.

“I mean this with the utmost respect, but when is the last time you’ve read a scroll, Mr. Dekarios?”

He inhaled, lifting an index finger. Then he closed his mouth and looked off to the side.

When was the last time? It must have been ages.

“Well,” she said without waiting for his answer. “Most spell scrolls assume a certain basis of classical training, or at minimum an innate understanding of how to channel the weave.”

“I see,” he said. “I’m to assume you’re not a sorceress then?”

“Not to my knowledge,” she said with a sigh.

He clenched his jaw as he looked down at the younger woman. Gods, she really did need a teacher. Maybe he could at least talk to her about theory–or give her a few simple exercises for manipulating the–

No. No.

He had more than enough on his plate without adding a poorly self-taught mage to it.

“Elinna,” he said. “Tell you what. I have a deal to offer–a concession if your like. If we make it through this and…make it out of wherever we are and back to Waterdeep, I promise I will introduce you to some colleagues that will help you get your start as a novice wizard. How does that sound? Fair?”

To his great surprise, she still looked disappointed by that answer. The girl really was an ambitious thing–coming right to his tower to seek his tutelage and no one else's? The poor girl had no idea what she was trying to sign herself up for; a depressed, anti-social, explosive wizard. A depressed, anti-social, explosive and impatient wizard. As far as teachers went, he was not the best candidate for the job.

“Alright,” she finally said. “Let’s see if we can go find a healer together…or maybe some other survivors…of a bath.”

“Oh, to find a bath,” Gale agreed. “Ah, but–before you think you’re journeying with most ill mannered a man–”

Gale gave the young woman a slight bow. “Thank you for pulling me out of that stone.”

When he stood up to his full height again, the young woman was smiling at him, her pretty viridian eyes crinkling at the edges. She tucked a pale copper strand of hair behind one of her delicately pointed ears and looked a bit sheepishly down the craggy shore.

“Ah–it’s almost a dead end over here–I think there might be more ground to cover if we cross through the wreckage…but I didn’t want to do that on my own,” she said.

“A wise choice, I think,” Gale said. “No telling what you would have run into. Not to imply that you can’t hold your own, of course–”

“No, you’re right,” she said, looking away from him a little timidly. “I’ll feel better with you there–it’s nice to have a friend.”

He huffed a soft breath and found himself smiling at how willing she was to call him her friend. Even after all the ways he had been a bit of an oaf to her, he felt in her he had found a bit of a kindred spirit. Someone else who sought camaraderie in perhaps…unworthy places.

She looked up at him and bit the swell of her lower lip again. “Shall we go then?” she asked him.

He gestured to the road ahead. “After you,” he said with a magnanimous smile. “Consider me your ever faithful guard dog, ready at the first sign of trouble.”

She snorted a little laugh and shook her head.

And as he followed after her, for the first time in the last year, he hoped the pang in his chest was because of the orb.

Taglist || @auroraesmeraldarose @thoughts-of-bear @cherifrog @puckprimrose @drabblesandimagines

#writing #authors #writeblr #my writing #bg3 #romantasy #writers on tumblr #writing community #bg3 fanfic #gale fanfic #gale headcannons #gale x tav #student x teacher #professor! gale #Gale dekarios #dekarios clan #violet thread of fate

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powderblueblood · 4 months

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How about Lacy finding Eddie's writing? 🤭

need you to imagine me listening to a fifth of beethoven from the saturday night fever soundtrack whilst writing this because i became insane and filled it with Clues.............

it's like trying to understand the fucking zodiac killer.

it's all codes and ciphers and scrawls and-- well, she thought she might have been reading that one upside down but it's actually indecipherable any way you twist it.

and it's not like any of it is even written on paper either. torn open cigarette packs, napkins, burger wrappers from the diner. one time a leaf.

because eddie's not like lacy in the way she keeps a journal but eddie's like lacy in that if he's roundhoused with a thought that he needs to remember, he's got to write it down now immediately pronto on any available surface.

which is pretty pointless, since he keeps losing all this garbage and she has to pick it up after him.

she bears over the spread of scraps like an fbi agent, palms braced to the table. there's a thread here, but she can't quite untangle it. she's staring at a pile of shit that says shit like

crabs incident-- bruised like a peach worth biting-- violet like violence??

red tights. tingly. carnelian little carnivore.

track two. treasure.

persephone's hall pass.

seventh grade & as many minutes in limbo. shoulda ripped off band aid.

mage in a mink coat.

well, that last one--

"you dumpster diving now? hard times."

fuck! fuck. told you, rat blood. appearing out of nowhere with no noise no notice to then become the loudest thing in the room. he's like thunderclap, this fucko, like a spontaneous combustion.

he also doesn't even recognize his own handwriting, seems like. she blushes, furious. doesn't know why.

"community service. they have me picking up the trailer trash's trailer trash."

"snitty!" he shoves the bag of chips he's holding at her--an offering, he can't do anything normal around her--and reaches for one of the scraps. lacy watches him like a scientist watching a guinea pig for brain activity-- and his eyes go all wide and panicky. "wait."

"eddie-- hey!" but he's scrambling now, going for all the little pieces of writing she'd been trying to arrange on the table like a pointless puzzle. "don't--"

"where'd you get all this shit, huh?! going through my pockets now, is that it? like a cop?"

"i-- hey, don't you fucking dare-- look, you shed!"

"i shed?"

"you shed. you've got shit falling out of that stupid, enormous nerd binder every goddamn day because you just shove shit in there and don't organize anything, and i wasn't gonna stand around and let you just litter everywhere and--" now it's her turn to be like. wait. crosses her arms, eyes narrow, she's mother superior serving nailed ya bitch. "--why are you all skittish?"

"huh?"

"it's just-- trash, right?" she snatches a burger wrapper out of his grasp. oh this is delish.

"yeah," he grabs, but she's holding it behind her back and god her face is like stupid smirky, "but it's my trash. my--giveit--private... trash."

eddie munson is blushing.

"who's the mage?"

"the fucking.... the what?"

little crinkle as she unfolds a piece torn off a brown paper bag. "mage in a mink coat. who's that?"

"nobody."

"i have a mink coat."

"oh. does that really say mage? 'coz it should say mange." he's such an asshole. she's grinning so wide.

everyone says revenge is a dish best served cold but she bets she could use eddie munson's cheeks as a hotplate and eat right off 'em. it'd taste so much better. lobster bisque. filet mignon. michelin star.

"have you been writing about me, munson?"

his face is all stone-set, mouth all i can't fucking believe this and eyes all i'd cut the brake lines in her van if she wasn't the one scamming rides off me all the time. "li'l miss my life is incomplete without eddie munson wants to talk?"

"called you a neanderthal in the next sentence. don't forget that."

"you're such a beastie."

"carnelian little carnivore, you wrote."

"what makes you so sure it's all about you, huh?"

"context clues."

he glances down. she is, in fact, wearing the aforementioned tingly-feeling-inspiring red tights again today. shit.

"what happened in seventh grade?" she's pointing to the scrap in his hand, one he's managed to keep out of her snatchy little fingers.

she doesn't remember anything significant about seventh grade. but he does, and a knot tightens in his chest and he's about to lie and say something crass about my fist, a stopwatch and a view of you from underneath the bleachers at cheerleading practice-- then final bell rings.

"that is for me to know--"

"--and for me to die ignorant?" she's an active listener.

"precisely, you wench. now get the fuck outta here, i got hellfire."

lacy leaves the scraps.

"i will find out, y'know."

he knows. "you're like a bitch with a bone that way."

"the bitchiest."

#powder room talk #Anonymous #eddie munson x reader #hai brainrot #e. munson by powder #blurbs #honestly i thnik this helped me get out of my tiny writer's block for next chapter so THANK YOU i WILL be referencing back to this #lacy_as_charlie_day_as_charlie_kelly_pepe_silvia.gif #love u so much nonny #also-- i have to add that these dont reference eddie's 'dear whoevers' in the chapters bc i feel like that's his internal monologue #more than Writing Anything Down. my nonsensical shorthand king <33333333 #l. doevski by powder

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ravenstargames · 7 months

Text

✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #6 | 10.03.23

And another month has gone by! 💜 For this one, you'll have to excuse my lack of eloquency, but this weekend has been really hectic for me personally, so my brain is struggling a bit to keep up :')

We are very close to receive our final grades for our master, but we are anticipating nothing but good (or at least not bad) news! With that being said, the team has picked up the pace again and we are feeling really good about it. Everyone is really excited to work work and work, so let's jump into it, shall we?

And what better way to start this devlog than with our handsome, our stupid, our magnificent Lord Amon, Golden Dragon of Dagalis? 🌟

As you can see, we have started working on the demo CGs and we are beyond excited! Our plan is to finish Amon's CG and snatch a few screenshots of the game to finally, FINALLY open our itch.io page! We don't want to spoil too much of the CGs but we still want to share a decent amount of stuff in our devlogs, so we'll see how we manage, hehe. We hope you like Lord Amon in this CG so far as much as we do, because Raquel is as per usual doing an impeccable job with our local himbgod! 💜

<<The voidbound, creatures born from the Midnight Tower's chest. Intelligent to a degree, they protect the Beyond —the tower's domain— from any trespasser. >>

This month we have started the concept art stage of our signature creature, the voidbound, and boooy is it looking good so far! Again, we don't want to spoil too much because we want you all to be surprised and spooked (hopefully!) when you play the demo and meet these little guys🖤.

I'm so glad Astro finally had a chance to put his creature design skills to use, because he's honestly fantastic at creating monsters and giving them just the right vibe. Consider yourself about to be scared or seduced if you are like me!

This month we finished our jugdment chamber! 💜 Aside from a few dust and smoke effects and maybe some small corrections along the way, this is another finished background for LiL's demo! There's a feeew more to go but with a little organization and plenty of force of will, I think we'll be able to tackle them all. Now that the first demo has less backgrounds, it's a fairer amount of work.

We also have had Kayden work on special "mini CGs" that will add to the immersion in certain scenes, but again, we don't want to spoil the whole demo content!

Currently, the demo script is sitting at 42k words, every option included. I'm hoping I can finish corrections either today or tomorrow and send the script over to Allie, our mighty editor! I already finished writing a breakdown of the characters and demo story for them to read, but I want to send both things at the same time. I know the writing is taking more time than we initially planned —in our first devlog if I remember correctly, I said I was already coding it, and I was— but it's for the benefit of the game. I don't want our demo script to be mediocre or to just be "good enough". I want to be proud of what I've written and I want my team and I to be able to be honest about this kind of stuff with the people that are looking forward to play our game 💜.

This month has been good overall. It has been difficult for me in personal matters, so I hope you forgive me for the usual typos or grammatical oopsies. This devlog was meant to be posted last night (GMT+2) but I was exhausted and didn't want to rush it :').

During October we are hoping we can work on as many art assets as we can, and if the script gets corrected and approved, maybe I can begin coding it very very soon!

As always, thank you so much for supporting us, for being here, and for looking forward to our demo! 💜 We hope we are living up to the expectations!

#lost in limbo #visual novel #devlog #otome

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dimonds456-but-only-hlvrai · 6 months

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Sorry, registered users only to keep out the bots

BUT HEY NEW FIC! Please mind the content warnings on this one, y'all.

“THERE’S AN ENTRANCE IN YOUR SUIT, DR FREEMAN, AND I WANT IN.”

The cacophony of noise wouldn’t stop. It bombarded Gordon’s ears, threatening to burst his ear drums entirely with the sheer magnitude of noise. He could barely hear Dr Coomer over the chaos, what with the clones all shouting “Hello, Gordon!” at the top of their lungs and Tommy firing his gun as quickly as he could to dispatch them.

He could barely hear himself think.

A hand grabbed his arm, yanking him forward- forward, forward, forward- until the ExtendoArm™ finally retracted to a normal length, and Gordon was face to face with Coomer himself. His eyes were blown wide, pupils tiny. His entire body was shivering, and sweat beaded down his face. His grip on Gordon’s handless arm was tight, tight enough he could feel it through the suit. He had the look of a crazed man, and his gaze was locked on Gordon.

Gordon froze, pain lacing his arm. It’s not real, he repeated to himself. It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real. I’m playing a video game. I’m in VR. I’m safe in my home. It’s not real.

“I’ve SEEN outside Black Mesa, Gordon,” Coomer hissed, tilting his head. “There’s nothing there. But you...”

Gordon pulled away, only to find resistance. Not in his character model- his arm refused to pull back. He frowned, confused. No, no no no it’s not real, he chanted in his head, trying to rebuild the wall he’d built between himself and the video game he’d had when he first sat down to play. The wall had been crumbling away the more immersed he became, but as soon as his avatar lost his arm and he hit his hand on the desk or something, that wall had been blown away completely. He was stuck in limbo between two worlds, desperately trying to cling to reality while fiction pulled him closer- this time, literally.

Coomer’s features were suddenly... a lot more realistic. “I know there’s a world in your dreams, and I need to go there.”

“No, NO! GET AWAY!” Gordon pushed at him, trying to shove him off, but Coomer’s grip remained locked on his arm, squeezing harder. The metal plating of the HEV suit creaked under the pressure, Gordon could swear he could feel it breaking- but that wasn’t right, this was a game! It wasn’t real! No one was literally holding his arm right now, his brain was just playing tricks on him! This wasn’t right!

He shifted his thumb to the joystick, trying to push back, but his model didn’t move. Instead, his feet were yanked out from under him. He fell to the concrete, feeling the carpet of his floor under his palms as he dropped. This added to his confusion, grounding him in an unsteady way.

A kick to the jaw sent him all the way down to cold, hard flooring. His head hit the concrete, ringing in his ears echoing through his entire skull.

What was happening?!

#hlvrai #dr coomer #tommy coolatta #gordon martinis freeman #gordon feetman #hlvrai fic #dimonds fics

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sixteen-sugars · 6 months

Text

what are you doing here before eternity - a haikaveh fic

Alhaitham was alive before this, he was sure. He could taste the blood in his mouth as through clouded eyes Kaveh’s face contorted as he reached towards him. Feeling for breath that wasn't there. Chest compressions on an empty cathedral of life deserted by its unfeeling patron god.

He looks in the mirror frequently these days. His hair never grew, stuck in an almost-chin length limbo for years now. His skin was smooth, his cheek felt like the inside of a seashell, dry but slightly glassy. He didn’t shed eyelashes, his wishes for Kaveh to pay his rent already scattered to the wind. His nails stayed trimmed short for convenience, but those didn't grow either. It was like he was in suspended animation, in a tank full of formaldehyde stinging your eyes, always aware of his existence, in constant reminder of his mistakes.

He knows he hung himself, Kaveh never told him. Always trying to gloss over that, hiding the hospital paperwork under the bed, as if he could forget the thing that made him so. Alhaitham doesn't know, as of now, how to feel about his death. He didn’t necessarily die for Kaveh the first time, but he might the second.

For the second time he choses, drowning. To see how Kaveh would tirelessly restore his body, to how Kaveh’s osmanthus-stained memory serves. He wakes up with a faint memory of his last bubbles of air floating to the surface like tiny-fairies. Alhaitham doesn't come back worse for wear. His skin unbogged by the Sumeru water, lily roots not found in the brain, taking the place for new neural pathways.

He lasts for half the amount of time he did last time. l'appel du vide pulled at him again. He wanted to watch how Kaveh would restore his internal organs, and see how his heart would beat in all its chambers if there was no one in there to decorate and give it life. Well, an outsider, maybe a renter, lovingly took the pills from his stomach and restored him. Lips still never mentioned the dead elephant in the room.

Every time he was saved by a blonde angel, Alhaitham himself always grew smoother, less human. As if Kaveh’s memories from 5 years ago were fading. He decides, this is it. He has resided in the uncanny valley for too long, he longs to take the trek up the other side. Be free of this worthless loop for someone too scared to let go and another already gone. He is standing on the edge of a building, one that Kaveh made. To die on a monument of his love is Alhatiams dying wish. Two things, both alike in their creation but in their end they show their difference, one rotting and condemned to a loop of suffering a slightly-too unconditional love. The unfeeling of the pair was to be forgotten to turn to ruins.

Alhaitam jumped. His heart stopped before he even hit the ground, his deformed shell lay on the cobbles at the opening of the building. Kaveh rushed in far too late, a hysterical man cradling slightly-too red flesh.

A slip of paper was found tucked in the eaves later, many years later by an equally pondering but never moved-on Kaveh. The note wrote,

“embracing the last dream of life, I dedicate my last death to you, Kaveh my love”

#haikaveh #kavetham #kaveh x alhaitham #kaveh #alhaitham #fanfic #ao3 #genshin #genshin impact #sumeru

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circeius-invidioso · 2 days

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Do you remember when imagines was a popular thing on whisper?

Alright.👏🏻

I want you to take a seat.

Take it, don't be shy.

And relax it's a long story that involves a woman, primarchs and a lot of smut.

Now. 👏🏻

🕯Imagine🕯

You are a hermit, living deep under a rock, whatever news of the community that reach you is years after the fact.

Two years in your filthy writing un-carear a friend comes on the entrance of the cave you live in and casually drops.

*insert image of female human x a primarch here, I wont post the original use your imagination I am not in the mood for another cease and desist*

And you ask, who is that? Clueless as to who that female character was.

Oh it's an oc, from a fic. "You (as in you not me, you as a reader, you get it you are smart) x *insert random primarch*". It's a genre, didn't you know it?

So after he asks that question your entire world dropped two centimeters on its axis.

A what?

Dude slapped me so hard I went back in time and became a conquistador alongside Kroeger (if I am not mistaken, this is already a joke one person might get).

So you check.

It is a thing.

ITS A THING.

The imagine ends here, my brain is still missing. Bye. Never knew him. Gone sis. Gone with the wind.

But I am not talented or good enough to do a first person pvo. But like, I can cook something with the building blocks given. That being a woman oc discovering new ways to extract gene seed from a primarch.

So.

I had a human led story left at first drafts deep in limbo, but NOW. NOW,

Call me a necromancer necrodancer cause it's time to ressurect this motherlover from it's shallow grave with a song and a dance...

But wait theres more.

Why not defile a second fic I had permanently left on the backburner?

YEEEES.

IMPERIUM SECUNDUS CAUSE THATS THE MOST CALM ERA TO LIVE IN. PERFECT FOR ROMANCE.

I was going to have a romantic triangle between Sang, Guilliman and the Lion on that one.

BUT NOW.

STICK A HUMAN IN THERE.

FUCK IT.

AND HER, ALL OF THEM.

REVERSE HAREM CAUSE I CAN. WHY ONLY ONE WHEN YOU CAN HAVE THEM ALL?

PERPETUAL WOMAN GETTING 3 METAHUMAN BOYFRIENDS SHE NEVER ASKED FOR.

NONE OF THESE WORDS ARE IN THE BIBLE.

Hell is hot, and is destined for me....🎶🎶🎶

So hi. Hello again.

You reached the end.

I am shocked that you did.

Thank you.

So yeah, the idea has been slapped, stitched and glued together in like. A week.

Breaking new ground, new horizons ahead of me.

That's the thing with all the things I do, its a gamble if it will be good or not.

The important part is for everyone to have fun.

I sure will.

So yeah.

New fic ✨️🎉

A rare thing, since I am terminally uninspired you see.

#warhammer #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #wh40k #fanfic #fanfic writing #warhammer fanfic #hermitcore #yes I do not interact with the world much #like a cryptic all the things I learn are against my wishes but they benefit me anyway #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

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insertsyscoursehere · 6 months

Note

just took a look at Sophie's blog after seeing a post of urs about her on my dash and... holy hell she has gotten so much worse like- she's now saying disorders are a social construct???????

Oh joy, gotta love transID stuff…

Listen, if someone suspects they may have traits of a disorder, it’s not that someone is transdisordered. They are probably showing symptoms of a disorder and should seek treatment or at least alert a trusted person in their life that something is up.

Do I think the way we treat the disabled is a social construct? Sure, that’s why we have mad pride and disability pride— because it wasn’t a choice for those who struggle.

Disorders are a social construct like asthma or cerebral palsy is a social construct— that is to say, not at all. A disorder is, by definition, something that hinders the ability to function, such as holding down a job or mobility or ability to discern between a delusion and reality. There are people who have managed their disorders, but that doesn’t mean they never struggle ever again.

Tbh, I feel like in the case of the claim she’s making, she fails to understand that a psychiatric disorder is the brain being a very smart but very stupid organ. That like any organ it is capable of failure, and that there’s no stopping it, only managing the fallout.

I didn’t have a hard life and get depressed simply through cultural osmosis or nurture. I don’t look within myself and identify as autistic. I was tested, misdiagnosed, retested, properly diagnosed, and they concluded that not only does my autism present as ADHD, but my cortisol levels are staggeringly high and my serotonin levels are lower than a contortionist limbo competition.

I feel like the only reason “transdisordered” became a thing—and mind you I’m making an educated guess here— is because we make fun of everyone who self-dx’s as if they’re all bad actors.

Self-dx is what kept me out of the hospital when I was too far from home and family to be in their insurance network. And it turns out I was right in my assertion— I have BPD and CPTSD.

There’s nothing wrong with the self dx pool, the water’s fine! But my disorders are not an aesthetic— they’re hard to live with and full of breakdowns and delusions that worry my family. To say it’s a social construct is to deny the very real pain that is caused internally and only focus on outward appearances.

Thank you for the ask, I hope your dash clears up soon. This garbage fire discourse sucks but there’s a strange beauty in it.

Most of all, have a great weekend. You deserve it!

#syscourse #transdisordered #leveret speaks

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woolmasterleel · 8 months

Text

Indomitable Vows- Species Guide

Finally, here's a guide explaining what each of the species are in my story!

Below the cut is information and diagrams on humans, angels, demons, LAE, Pseudo-Humans (and their sub species), Temporal Independent Entities, and Core Deital Fusions!

I guess a quick warning for body horror(???). The Pseudo-Humans look a little funky, so a heads up!

Humans

Pretty standard species, as they are in real life.

Cannot use magic alone, however if one has a close bond with an angel or demon (through pact or deal), they are able to channel the abilities of respective angel/demon.

Can be immortalized if the deity is capable. These are usually deities who cannot use magic.

An example within the story: Charlotte Synthealda is unable to use magic, however she is able to immortalize Sophia, protecting her from the progression of time.

The only notable character to stay a human is Sophia.

Angels and Demons

Deities who utilized light or dark magic. These terms are very broad, encompassing a wide range of abilities.

Angels and demons are formed from deceased beings taken to either the “heavens” (angels) or the “underworld” (demons). These realms are not below or above the human realm, but rather exist in the same plane. A gate or portal is required to travel to these realms.

Angel and demon magic are counterparts to one another, but a lot of the magic is similar. For example, corrosion magic is classified as dark/demon magic, however there exists a version of corrosion magic that angels can perform.

An example with known characters: As an angel, Mirror was able to create crystals (with mirror-like surfaces). This creation is usually classified as angel magic, however Avkiran, a demon, can also summon crystals, looking more like large gemstones.

Angels and demons can be created from beings other than humans. Bugs, animals, and plants can become more intelligent deities as well.

For example, Lunah and Bee were both bugs before finding their way to the demon realm. Bee later moved to the angel realm.

Regardless of what is taken to either realm, their new appearance is a result of their surroundings. Some angels and demons may appear more monstrous if they remain in less civilized areas of the light or dark realms. Neither angels or demons will take a human form unless they spend most of their time in the human realm.

This is seen in most angels or demons within the story. Tagashei, Mirror, Akyrah, Yugami, Rukka, and later Alice, all of them lived in the human realm, thus appearing closer to humans.

Lavanya and Magyrah, queen and king of a kingdom in the demon realm, while walking on two legs, appear less human. They used to reside in the human realm, therefore a lot of their mannerisms from that time remain.

Angels and demons are common knowledge amongst humans. They lived around each other, usually, without any issues.

The ability to use magic comes from an extra organ formed when someone becomes an angel or demon. It appears as an extra chamber on the heart, following the spine up to the brain. Here's a quick diagram:

As stated before, not every deity can use magic. There are many reasons why one may not be able to use it, some angels or demons simply never acquire the extra organ, some others have biological issues, among other things.

Notable characters who do not have magic: Kisaki (while a demon), Akyrah (angel), Octavous (demon), Rukka (demon), Charlotte/Motherboard (demon).

Limbo-Altered Entities (LAE)