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pxnsneverland · 8 months

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Hellfire Lost | Eddie Munson x oc (part 1)

plot summary: Juliet Henderson has had her fair share of excitement fighting otherworldly monsters in the Upside Down with her brother, Dustin, and his friends. She's ready for her senior year to be a peaceful and pleasant time spent cheerleading and hanging out with her best friend Chrissy. However when Chrissy mysteriously turns up dead and her unlikely outcast crush Eddie Munson is suspect #1, she finds herself back in the fight along with the rest of the Upside Down squad facing their biggest threat yet. Will Juliet and everyone be able to stop dangers of the world below Hawkins and clear Eddie's name? And what happens when the monster starts targeting someone a little closer to home?

pairings: eddie munson x oc

word count: 949

warnings/notes:

Chapter 1

“Dustin! Hurry up! If you’re not ready in 5 minutes, I’m leaving without you!” As I walked through the house, I yelled at my younger brother.

While my mother was petting the cat that was sitting on her lap, she addressed me, saying, "Juliet, don't yell at your brother."

“I’m not yelling at him. But this is my last time cheering for Hawkins High before I graduate and I can’t be late.” I took a quick look at the clock that was hanging on the wall. The basketball game was scheduled to begin an hour from now. Dustin burst into the room at full speed, and I let out an exasperated groan.

He put his hands above his head as a sign of surrender after I gave him a hard stare. “What? I couldn’t find my character sheets for Hellfire.”

I really didn't want to hear it. I took the car keys from the table, kissed Mom goodbye, and walked out the door, Dustin close behind.

Even though we didn't live too far from Hawkins High School, I wish we'd arrived at least half an hour earlier. Hawkins hadn't won a championship in several years. However, the team was stronger than ever before, and everyone was optimistic. Anyone who was still paying attention. Before getting out of the car, I found a parking spot and turned off the engine. As we were getting out of the car, a well-known van pulled up next to us, and loud music could be heard coming from inside. Eddie Munson, the Hellfire Club's leader, jumped out of the vehicle, carrying a box full of items with him. He couldn't help but smile when he saw Dustin and put his hand on his shoulder.

“Henderson, are you ready to perish at the hands of the cult of Vecna?” he asked Dustin in a low, sinister voice. He finished the question with a demonic tone.

Dustin's laugh was as wide as his grin. “Please, I was born ready. We’re going to beat your campaign tonight and I’ll do a happy dance on Vecna’s grave.”

“Watch yourself eat your words, kid.” Dustin accepted the box that Eddie had handed him. “Here, go start set up. I have more stuff in the car.”

“Sure.” He tried to make a quick exit from the scene.

I yelled after him. “Meet me back at the car at 10, Dustin! 10!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Good luck with your cheer thing.” He was already inside the school after that.

I rolled my eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest. I had a lot of affection for the kid, but he could be very narrow-minded at times. He hadn't kept quiet about the end of this Dungeons & Dragons campaign for the past week. I couldn't understand a word he said, but I was relieved that he had found a place for himself at this school. Tomorrow was the start of spring break, and before long, it would be graduation, at which point I would no longer be able to care for him.

“Don’t worry. The campaign will be done and finished by 10.”

I had completely forgotten Eddie was still standing there because I was so preoccupied with my own thoughts. Eddie Munson was typically referred to as "the freak" by everyone. We never really had much of a conversation before Dustin joined his club. As I got to know him better, I discovered that he wasn't nearly as intimidating as everyone had made him out to be.

“Oh, it’s fine.” I made a casual gesture with my hand to show that I was unconcerned. “It's just our mom will freak out if we’re not home by at least 11. She’s a little neurotic sometimes.”

“I don’t blame her with a kid like Henderson. He’s got way too much energy for one person.”

At that, I couldn't help but chuckle. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He scratched the back of his neck and coughed to clear his throat. “Um, I didn’t get to thank you for, um, those math notes you let me borrow. I’m coasting a solid D+ in…”

I raised a brow. “Sounds like the notes weren’t very helpful.”

“Trust me, that has nothing to do with your Olympic level note taking. I’m just a dumb ass when it comes to numbers. I wouldn’t even be at a D without your help so…thanks.” He chuckled nervously.

I'm not sure why I felt the need to blush. “You’re welcome.” I turned around and observed the people entering the gym. “I should go. Good luck with your Vecna cult or whatever.”

“Yeah, have a good…cheer.” He made a motion with his hands that could have been interpreted as a cheer.

I laughed again and dashed off to the gym.

When I walked into the gym, the band was already playing and the seats were nearly full. The other cheerleaders were huddled in front of the stands, and the energy was high. I went to join them.

Chrissy Cunningham, the captain, greeted me right away. “Jules, where have you been? I was starting to get worried. The game is about to start.”

“Sorry, Chris. My brother also had his club thing tonight and he had to come along with me and he was taking forever.” I noticed she had a strange expression on her face and dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept. “Are you okay?”

She smiled as brightly as she always did. “Yeah I’m fine. I guess I’ve just been paranoid lately.”

I had no choice but to trust her because it was time to form up. So I let it go, and the game started.

Stay tuned for part 2!! Click HERE to view!

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annakie · 4 months

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My gaming friends, please give me 5% of the effort I'm giving you.

Hey, just needed someplace to rant about TTRPG stuff outside of a place where those people are likely to find it.

Feeling very frustrated that the last couple of months with two of my groups of friends I have begged, pleaded and quite frankly, nagged at them to please communicate with me and to give me 5% of the effort I have given to them to ensure that the endeavors we're undertaking are successful, especially when I am already very happy to do most of the work, I just need them to communicate with me and to please do the bare minimum.

Every year 2 of my friends and I go to a local gaming con and we run games constantly throughout the weekend. There is a ton of stuff to cooridinate and experience tells us that planning it ahead of time ensures that it goes smoothly. Every year I have to nag and plead with one of them, the one who runs most of the games, to please communicate with me and talk about what games we're running, and planning other things like what materials we're bringing and who from the con that we enjoy playing with are we planning games around etc. I also tell him multiple times every year that I am available to do a lot of heavy lifting in helping him plan his games with things like making character sheets, picking out maps, the last 2 years planning audio accompaniments to enhance the games, etc. I sent him a long message last year begging him to communicate with me and telling him how frustrating it is to have to do most of the planning, which again I'm HAPPY to do, but not hear from him on all the things I NEED TO KNOW to do the planning. He promised to be better. This year I have repeatedly posted the same 10 questions and a few suggestions and reminders that I'm happy to help do MORE in our Discord and one day he answered 4 of the questions vaguely and hasn't responded since. I have reminded him in person twice to please communicate with us more in the Discord so I can plan. Game submissions opened today and I still have not heard one word from him and I am going fucking crazy about it. For the last two years we've had to bug the organizer of the con to please specially set up our games because he waited until the last second to get me any info (and then went behind my back to talk directly to the organizer and gave him some wrong info so I had to go back to him to correct it.)

I love this person a lot and he is a dear friend and this con weekend is one of the things I look forward to most every year but planning this is SO FRUSTRATING. It needs to be planned. I am so happy to do most of the work. But I can't. Posted a message in Discord today trying to gently call out the lack of participation from both my friends (but mostly one) and have no idea how it's going to go over.

--------------

Second thing is that my Sunday night D&D group are starting a brand new campaign.

We've known we're running this campaign since like, late November? I very early posted the campaign guide and said it was mandatory reading. I also said they should be picking out character classes and coming up with general backstories. We took time out of finishing our last campaign and had a session or two just dedicated to character planning.

I sent them several resources in different media formats (video and text) on just the very basics on learning how to play Pathfinder 2e and they promised to help learn the basics and the differences between D&D5e and pf2e. I am almost positive none of them (maybe one, who is the same one as not-the-problem in the Con issue above) have touched any of that. Late December/Early January we did get general character creation done. We started playing the Beginner's Box and every week I remind them that they need to read and absorb the official player's guide for the campaign. Also I posted a pretty general backstory template, some of which they needed the campaign guide for. Also I told them that in their backstories most of not all of them would have been born and raised in this town. So far all of them have submitted "I came here recently" stories except one who came here awhile ago. (convenient, so that way they don't need to really know anyone in town, right? When I have told them repeatedly that having close ties to people in the town is IMPORTANT in this story!) The 5th hasn't submitted his backstory yet. We will finish with the beginner's box next week most likely and start the campaign the week afterwards. Almost positive none of the rest of them have fully read the campaign guide like I asked, except the bare minimum of what they needed to to fill out their backstory sheets.

To be fair, they did put some good thought into their backstories, the 4 that submitted. But only one has really integrated any NPCs into their stories like I asked. I don't want to nag about it, I don't want to force them to rewrite their backstories, it's THEIR characters, but I am very frustrated about it.

I wrote a "Campaign Guide Quiz"of about 20 questions they should be able to answer (things that will be important for them to know during the campaign) and told them there would be a quiz. Posted it late December. Have not gotten any feedback or response on it. I think at this point I'm going to offer them 25gp if they fill it out and send it to me in DMs before the start of the campaign in two weeks. I love these guys, we are all friends from outside the game, all of whom I've known for between 12 and 27 years. When we game, they are FULLY present, they do their best, they LOVE the game and it's SO much fun. Except for asking them to spend time outside the game (except leveling their characters, they'll do that between sessions) it's hard to get them to do things outside of the session, but I really truly don't ask anything besides what I absolutely need them to do to enjoy the game. Again, as the DM I am happy to take on 95% of the work keeping this campaign going, but it's really frustrating when I don't really feel I'm getting that 5% extra effort I need. They're all working adults with children, but right now I need them to just do a thing that will take one hour, and have given them 3 months to do so, and it hasn't happened.

#personal post tag thingy #hey please do not reblog thank you very much

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bluravenite · 5 months

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I have not in fact finished rendering anything since November...

D&D OC art, my changeling unmasked and as a drow with his former elven partner, as well as dracula(? Astarion bite fanart(? because I have a whole timeline with him and a whole separate timeline with gale.

No tags on this one idc too much, rant ahead ↓

Last year started alright, I graduated with an Associates degree of arts before I decided to take a break from school because of burnout, and commissions were going really well, but as is social media, it can burn people out and if you make the wrong comments people will get angry at you.

That's always a learning experience and I don't expect to be able to handle those emotions, I'm only 20 and severely stressed and overwhelmed all the time, I struggle a lot with people online but I adore forming connections regardless. In that same tone I've been running my own D&D campaign for my irl friends, and that's been going wonderfully, it combines all my favorite things into one game.

Still I have a hard time with art, It hasn't been easy at all, and while I miss ghost art I don't know if I can be expected to return to it. I still get very triggered when I see kink or angst content relating to the issues that I have dealt with this past year, which is why I originally distanced myself from the fandom.

Grief also doesn't help but fortunately I am not someone who grieves too outwardly, still it takes a toll on my emotions and my trust with other people and myself, so healing takes it's time. even if it can feel lonely and isolating, I am grateful to have my friends, and my mom's support, even if she's not an ideal mother she has always encouraged me creatively.

I will open commissions soon, but I will not be doing elaborate stuff, no backgrounds, no full body/character sheets, no more than two characters, and with extended time frames, because I can't risk burning myself out again.

I mayyyy also think about some adoptable d&d NPCs, we shall see.

Thank you all for sticking with me through this rough end of the year 😮‍💨 I hope the new one is not so shitty in the end.

And please for the love of all godly and ungodly, just a gentle reminder that when people ask for tags and content filtering it isn't from a place of disgust or hatred towards the content creator, but rather personal safety. some of us are just going through rough patches and that content can hurt us even if it's not meant to. I love you all and I appreciate all of you who did listen and do tag your content, I see you and I thank you.

#raven rambles #my wips

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steddie-as-they-come · 7 months

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blame it all on human nature - chapter 5

ao3 link || part one

☆Tuesday, April 8th, 1986☆

Eddie takes his normal seat at the lunch table, swinging his legs into his chair. Like ducklings, the kids file in around him.

“Whatcha got there, Baby Byers?” Eddie asks, as Will sets something carefully on the other end of the table. Eddie can’t really see what it is.

“Finished your DM screen.” Will explains. “Just gotta wait for it to dry now.”

“Shit, really? Lemme see!” Eddie hops up and circles the table. The thin wooden screen looks much different than he’s used to, but it still looks magical. Instead of glossy black, Will’s decorated it with painted symbols in different colors, glowing like they’re about to come to life.

Eddie lets his hand hover above the paint, not daring to touch the wet paint and ruin it. “Looks incredible, Will.” he says. “You’re a great artist.”

“Thanks.” Will says, and Eddie crosses back to his seat.

“When are we gonna play the campaign?” Dustin asks. “I have an idea for my character already!”

“Oh, really?” Eddie waves at Robin as he sees her enter the cafeteria with some of her band friends, and about half the kids follow his example. The girl she’s walking next to gives her a weird look, probably wondering why Known Ex-Wanted Man Eddie Munson and the entire nerdy freshman population are waving at her.

She waves back.

Eddie refocuses on the table. “You can tell me about your characters now, if you’ve got ideas.” He shuffles papers around in his disaster area of a backpack. “I think I’ve got extra character sheets in here.”

He passes out the sheets to the kids, watching them all get to work. Dustin starts immediately scribbling. Wow, he wasn’t kidding when he said he had ideas for his character. Will and El bow their heads together over their papers, and Will looks like he’s explaining some stuff to El. Mike and Lucas talk together excitedly.

Eddie, for his part, starts scribbling notes to himself on his hand. Make NPCs, he scribbles. No, that’s too vague. He crosses it out. Make tavern NPCs, he adds. Better.

The familiar clicking noises of rolling dice make him jerk his head back up. Dustin’s got out his d20, rolling for various stats. Kid after my own heart, Eddie thinks to himself. Always keep a dice set on you.

Mike snatches Dustin’s d20, rolls for something on his own sheet, then tosses it back, scribbling whatever number he got down.

The harsh jangle of the bell jerks them all out of their D&D-induced trances, and Eddie says, “Keep those sheets and finish them up before you give them to me!” Dustin tosses his dice back into their plastic container and books it out of the lunch room, grinning and waving back at Eddie and the group as they all disperse, much more slowly.

Eddie can’t keep his mind off the campaign for the rest of the day. He pulls out a journal, sketching the different monsters he wants to try to incorporate. His chickenscratch penmanship is crammed around each doodle, a brief description to help him when he’s actually narrating the campaign. As each class passes, his hand turns more and more blue with inked words, reminders for later.

He’s not paying attention in class until he hears the dreaded words: “partner assignment”.

The room is basically empty nowadays, just like the rest of the school. Grant, Gareth, and Jeff weren’t the only ones who left. The school’s population has dropped by the dozens, maybe even hundreds by this point.

Eddie hunches over, hoping if he’s a small enough target, no one will want to be his partner and he’ll end up alone. Normally he’d be more confrontational, but he’s not looking to start anything and be forced to repeat the year for the fourth time.

Someone sits in the empty desk next to him. Eddie can’t see who they are, his hair’s in the way.

“You just gonna ignore me, or…?” comes a familiar voice, and Eddie almost cries with relief, tucking his hair out of the way.

“Birdie, thank god.” he says. “I was gonna do this assignment by myself. You’re my hero. I didn’t even realize you were in this class!”

Robin glares at him. “Okay, seriously? What is with people and not knowing I’m in their class? First Steve, now you?”

“I’m going to level with you, Buckley, I don’t even know what class this is.” Eddie informs her. “I knew you were in a class of mine, so that should give me a leg up on Harrington, right?”

Robin looks unamused. “Are you high?” she deadpans.

“One: how dare you, just because I don’t know where I am does not mean I am under the influence.” Eddie says in a dramatic whisper. “Two: no, I just wasn’t paying attention. Can’t even get weed anymore.”

Robin sits back. “Okay, are we gonna actually do this project? I think I brutally murdered the rest of my school friendships by coming over here.” She looks across the room, and sure enough, there’s two girls Eddie doesn’t recognize glaring at her.

“Of course we are!” Eddie says. “...what’s the project?”

“I’m gonna hit you with a car,” she informs him, and Eddie barks out a laugh.

Erica waves off Eddie’s offer of a blank campaign sheet for her character when they pick her up from the elementary school later that day. “I had my own because I was prepared.” she tells him, passing a piece of paper to him. “My character’s done.”

Eddie’s a bit taken aback. “Well then,” he says. “Good for you.” He takes it from her. “Can’t wait to play with you-” he consults the sheet. “Captain Saral Niserie.”

She scoffs, but Eddie thinks he sees a private, excited smile as she looks back out the window.

☆Thursday, April 10th, 1986☆

“We open in a tavern, settled in the middle of the forest.” Eddie says. He thinks he hears Dustin mumble something about cliches, and levels the little butthead with a glare before continuing. “There are no buildings around as far as you can see, and you are with your party. Starting with…” He places a little figurine on the table, watching Hawkin’s face (they’re an unfamiliar girl, maybe around his age, with short red hair right now) light up. “Hannah Rockebrook, a level eight human warlock.” Eddie walks her across the table and puts her on the board. “Hannah opens the door and ushers the group inside, smiling at the bartenders, a pair of half-elf twins.”

He nods to Dustin, who’s on his left, and Dustin begins to talk. “Zoi, my satyr sorcerer, orders a round at the bar and brings it to the table.” He looks at Eddie. “Can I roll for perception?” Eddie nods. “Seven, with a plus one, so that’s eight.”

“Zoi sees a poster on the wall and points it out to the group.” Eddie says. “Also, you lose ten gold for paying for the drinks.”

Erica, who’s next, says, “Saral Nisarie, my cleric selkie, reads it aloud.” She looks at Eddie, because, right, they don’t actually know what it says.

“Monster hunting!” Eddie announces. “Rewards handsomely for each monster your group kills!”

The group begins to chatter, and Eddie keeps hearing Dustin and Mike talk about how boring the campaign is already. They haven’t even played for longer than a few minutes!

Will bangs the table (Lucas’s miniature falls over, and El fixes it with a sharp jerk of her head). “‘I think we should do it!’ my dragonborn Lytlutyl announces.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Eddie says. “Say that name again.”

Will sounds it out slowly. “Lee-tuh-loo-till.”

“Yeah, I’m not saying that every time.” Eddie deadpans. “Can you give her a nickname?”

Will rolls his eyes. “Fine. What about Lita?”

“Acceptable.” Eddie waves a hand. “Continue.”

The group goes around, introducing themselves. El’s chosen to play a ranger, a Drow named Atierith (Ah-tee-er-ith, nicknamed Rith at Eddie’s request) of House Tema. Mike’s a tiefling bard named Celan the Degenerate. Lucas is a wererat artificer, named Iros Wainwright.

They delay a little bit when Lucas insists on talking with the bartenders (named Ronan and Stella) about the monsters around and learning effectively nothing, but they do manage to make it out of the tavern before the first session’s close, which is more than Eddie had been expecting, to be honest.

Saral lights off Hand of Radiance, and her hand begins to glow so the party can see in the woods. They walk for in-game hours, unable to find the monsters Stella and Ronan insisted were everywhere.

“Wind blows through the trees.” Eddie says. “Uh, Will, make a perception check.”

Will grabs and rolls the d20. “Nat 20!” he cheers.

Well, Eddie wasn’t expecting that, but he supposes he can give it to them a little early. “Some of the trees aren't reacting to the wind. None of their branches are bending when the wind blows, unlike all the other trees.”

“Can I throw something at one?” Mike asks.

“Roll dexterity?”

Mike does. “Eleven, with a minus one, so that’s ten.” El makes a little aborted motion, as if reacting to the number, which Eddie doesn’t really get.

“That hits.”

“I pick up a rock and throw it at a tree.” Mike says.

Eddie mentally runs through who’s where. “Lucas, roll athletics?”

He does. “Fourteen.”

“The tree makes a swipe, narrowly missing you.”

“Mimic!” Dustin shouts, panicked, and Eddie grins evilly.

“As you all watch, eight trees begin to twist and crack, bending at their halfway points and planting their canopies on the ground like legs. The ground underneath you shudders and shakes.” He traces around their minifigures, splitting the group in half. “Saral, Celan, Rith, and Zoi, you get lifted into the air on the back of the monster. Hannah, Lita, and Iros, you’re stuck on the ground.”

“Can I cast Inflict Wounds?” Erica asks viciously.

Eddie looks down at his sheet. The monster’s got a defense of thirteen. “Roll for it?”

She does. “Nine?”

“Sorry, kid.” Eddie says. “The monster feels your attempt to hurt it and growls. The motion shakes its entire body, and you slip off.”

“Can I catch her?” Hawkins says urgently, appearing right between him and Dustin.

“Hannah moves to catch her.” Eddie says before Lucas can jump in, because he can see he’s about to. He picks up the d20 Dustin had picked out for him, black with red inked numbers, and rolls for athleticism.

“She got a seventeen!” Eddie says. “Hannah takes one point of damage from the catch, but Saral, you’re fine, and you land neatly in Hannah’s arms.”

Erica smiles smugly.

Will jumps in. “Can we try to cut down the tree legs from here?”

Eddie nods. “Go ahead.”

“Uh, Lita’s got an axe,” Will says, consulting his character sheet. “So she attacks the leg closest to her.”

“Roll strength?”

“Eight, saving throw adds two.”

“She gets about halfway through the trunk before the monster roars and flings her away. Take five hit points.” Eddie says, and Will marks it down.

The battle’s fun. More chaotic than Eddie’s used to, due to the sheer number of players at his table, but they manage to get through the fight with no deaths. El delivers the final blow, and the table goes wild as Eddie describes the monster curling up and shriveling away.

“There’s something red in the husk of what used to be the monster.” Eddie says, and everyone’s interest is immediately piqued.

“Iros goes to check.” Lucas says.

“Roll perception.”

Lucas winces. “Four.”

“It’s a person with curly hair in a red tunic.” Eddie says. Bare minimum. “They’re lying on their side, asleep.”

Dustin tilts his head, leaning forward. “Were they possessed? Were they turned into the monster?”

Eddie smiles evilly at him.

“Can you heal them, Erica?” Lucas asks.

Erica sneers at him, but rolls for it anyway. “Sixteen.”

“They sit up and groan. ‘What happened?’” Eddie says.

“‘You were a monster,’ Celan tells them.” Mike says. “‘We defeated you and you turned back into this. Can you tell us who did this to you?’”

“‘I don’t remember.’ they say. ‘I was sick, in my bed, and then I woke up here.’” Eddie claps his hands. “I think we gotta end it here for the night, guys.”

The kids all boo, but El sticks around at the end to thank him for the campaign. “It was fun.” she says.

“No problem, kid.” Eddie says. “Happy you like it.”

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #living hawkins au #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #stranger things

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peeta-is-useless · 2 years

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Always the Winner

“maybe maybe maybe it's an overdone idea but idc it's my favorite. reader not knowing anything abt dungeons and dragons but wanting to learn to get closer to eddie and his friends except they just kinda treat it like monopoly and just absolutely think they are winning and doing so well (they're not) but eddie lies straight through his teeth and makes up rules just to make sure reader wins. (idk how dnd works can u even win 😭😭)” - from Anon

Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral reader

Synopsis: You’re playing dnd with the boys and Eddie always lets you “win”. Warnings: lack of dnd knowledge(by me. I did some research but I’m sorry if it doesn’t make sense🥲), Eddie breaking dnd rules, I think that’s all?

“Alright, you’re up.” Eddie said to you, ignoring Mike’s eye roll.

You smiled and stood up, ready to roll the dice. You really were having fun and somehow always ended up with the killing blows. All the boys always shot slightly annoyed glances in your direction but of course the other questers would because you always won. Or that’s the theory that you believed anyways.

You tossed the dice across the table and Eddie leaned over to see the number it landed on before you had a chance to check.

“Too bad for the hill giant-“ he grinned and there were groans around the table. No one ever protested though. They knew what Eddie was doing. He was completely crushing on you and even if you didn’t exactly understand the rules of DND or how it worked, he would always let your character come out alright or as the hero. Sure, on the campaigns that you weren’t there for, all bets were off. However, when you were participating, he wasn’t afraid to tweak a few of the rules or just completely lie for you. It was a ploy for him to spend more time with you really.

“Yes!” You pumped your fist and finished out your turn. Little to your knowledge, the number you had gotten was not even close to 4, the required roll to actually defeat the monster.

There were half hearted “good jobs” echoed around the table until Eddie raised an eyebrow. Then more legitimate congratulations came at you.

Eddie continued with the campaign story. “Your little group has not taken damage because the valiant,” he said your character’s name with a flourish, “bravely defeated the hill giant, Nefel. Will you advance through his cave or go in search of another way to cross the mountain?”

The game went on for some time, your character still being the only one still at the height of health. “Alright, we’ll stop here for today, little hellfires.” Eddie proclaimed, scooping up his binder. “We resume tomorrow at 3:20. Don’t be late.” He glanced at you as the others started picking up their own items. “Sooo, what do ya think?” He asked.

You lifted you head from the character sheet Eddie had helped you start a week ago. “About the game or the campaign?”

“Either. Both I guess.”

“We’ll, okay. I really like them both. I didn’t think I’d catch on this quick but DND is so much easier than everyone says!”

Eddie tried to hide his automatic smirk behind his binder by putting it in front of the lower half of his face. “Yes, right. I suppose you’re just a natural, kiddo.” The use of kiddo really wasn’t valid because you were in the same grade as him and only a year or two younger.

“Maybe I just have a good teacher.” And with that comment, your cheeks start to burn. It was only a little but you could feel it.

Actually you didn’t have a good teacher at all. In fact, he was quite terrible in terms of actually letting you play out the game correctly and quite frankly, falling into traps, loosing health, etc, just like the rest of the party. That didn’t stop him from basking in your compliment. “I have been known to-“

“Oh my god.” Dustin cut him off, completely over Eddie’s beginning attempt at flirting for the night. “We get it. You’re both amazing. Now will you shut up? They’re driving us home!”

You laughed at Dustin’s outburst. “Sorry, Ed, he’s right. See you tomorrow. 3:20 sharp.”

“Yeah, okay.” He was glaring at Dustin as you turned to zip your backpack but the kid only shrugged.

Tomorrow.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #stranger things #dnd #I’m so sorry I tried:’)#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gender neutral reader

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 2 years

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Welcome to the Forgotten Realms | Hawkins Crew

Prompt: Going Inside a Book/Story

Words: 3166

Fandom: Stranger Things

A/N: Writer’s Month is over, but I’m still going to try and finish this, just three more prompts to go. I’m drawing from my limited knowledge of DnD 5th edition and light research on 1st edition, so if some of it isn’t accurate, how many people would actually know the difference between 5th and 1st? Also, while trying to wrap up the ending, it gave ‘Welcome to Jumanji’ vibes and I pictured a Nigel character popping up, but still looks like Rhys Darby. Lol look at me creating lore for a world that I might not visit again. Or won’t I?

Summary: The older group decides to play DnD, much to Eddie’s delight. A sudden storm cut off the electricity in the middle of a session, but when they looked around to find that they weren’t in Hawkins anymore.

Eddie rubbed his hands together gleefully like an evil mastermind as his new friends finished their character sheets. He had minis that he had painted in his spare time that were close enough to what they wanted their characters to look like, each of them standing right in front of each player.

Nancy was more familiar with the mechanics since the kids usually played in the basement, having picked it up quickly and helping the others when they needed it. Jonathan had admitted that Will spoke about their campaigns but never really broke down the mechanics unless he asked him. Robin was catching on, piecing her character together in no time. That left Steve who was frowning at his sheet before sliding it over to Eddie. Dustin had actually helped him build his character beforehand, but he wasn’t sure how to play him.

“Does this look… right?” Steve asked after filling out his character’s backstory.

Eddie leaned over, eagerly scanning through his character sheet and smiled. “Steve, Stevie, Steve-O. I feel like you’ve thought this character through before.”

“Ah, well,” Steve muttered sheepishly, scratching the back of his head with his pencil. “Henderson’s always wanted me to play with them, so… the roleplaying part is kind of… I don’t know.”

“Embarrassing?”

Steve nodded. “This is why I didn’t take drama, man.”

“Well, you should have, or else you wouldn’t be having this problem,” Robin said, giving him a pointed look. “And maybe you would have been less of a douche in high school.”

“Thank you so much, Robin, I appreciated your needed input,” Steve replied sarcastically.

“Hey, everyone’s gotta start somewhere,” Eddie said, patting Steve’s shoulder. “This is everyone’s first game, so we’re gonna take it easy and learn how the game works together. Don’t be afraid to ask questions. DMs love questions, unless they’re dumb.”

“I guess Steve can’t ask anything then.”

“You know what, Buckley, I’m not going to be driving you around anymore.”

“Nice try, dingus. This whole time you still drove me to school and work when you thought I had a license. There’s no way you’re going to suddenly stop giving me rides.”

“Anyways,” Eddie interrupted, “Superior Wheeler. Big Byers. How are your characters coming along?”

“We’re just about finished,” Nancy said.

Jonathan nodded. “Yeah, we figured that it’ll be easier if our characters know each other so we’d have someone to bounce off on.”

“It’s a very common method to do and helps with backstories,” Eddie said, nodding in approval. “What race and class are you?”

“Nance is a high elf ranger and I’m thinking of being a drow rogue.”

“Interesting. Very interesting.” Eddie folded his fingers together and rested his chin on them. “Drows are usually lawful evil aligned, but for my campaigns, I’m not too strict on those things as long as it creates a good story. To have a high elf and a drow know each other, that’s really interesting. Buckley.”

Robin held up her character sheet and shook it. “I think I’ve made it more complicated than it had to be. I made a Forest Gnome Wizard. It’s complicated for me because I just realized how many spells I have to manage. But we’re just level one, right? So, it shouldn’t be that bad for now, but, like, I’ve done this whole backstory that is too similar to Batman.”

Eddie nodded sagely. “Many players, no matter how seasoned they are, have done this. It’s an easy trope to fall on, but if you add your own twist to it, it could work.”

“What if when she talks to animals, instead of the high pitch tone people use, it’s gruffy like a heavy smoker?”

Jonathan snorted. “Is your voice going to be okay after that?”

“See, I made it harder on myself than it should be.”

“What if you made your character’s normal voice high pitched and when you speak to animals it's at a normal pitch?” Steve said, holding back a smile.

Robin scrunched her face. “That’s even worse.”

“I am not going to sit through a two hour session with that voice,” Nancy said firmly.

“Thank you, Nance.”

“Oh! Why didn’t I think of this?” Steve said, facepalming. “The kermit voice!”

“No! I told you to drop that already!” Robin shouted. “What’s your character anyways, dingus? I bet it’s boring.”

Steve glared at her from across the table. “Human Paladin,” he muttered.

“See. Boring.”

“Hey, now. We haven’t started playing yet,” Eddie tried to mediate. “If everyone’s ready, we can begin.” He held his hands out, eyeing them all. When they all nodded, he clapped his hands. “Alright, let me set the scene for you, adventurers.”

“Uh, guys, I don’t know if we should be going in a super scary tower without a plan,” Robin pointed out.

“Haunted, too,” Steve added.

“Yeah. Super scary haunted tower.”

“The guy at the tavern said that something strange is happening here. There’s people going missing and no one has ever used this tower in years until now,” Jonathan said.

Nancy nodded her head. “Exactly. Seeing light in the tower around the same time the first disappearance happened? There’s got to be a connection. We have to at least try.”

“Okay, so what do we know about this tower?” Robin looked down at her character sheet, then at Eddie. “With my wizardry background, would I know anything about this place?”

“Roll me a history check with advantage. You’re quite studious and one of the top of your class,” Eddie said, pointing at the D20 in front of her.

Robin nodded, shaking her hand and tossing the dice carefully. She grimaced, then rolled again, the corner of her lips turning up. “That’s an unnatural 20 for history.”

“Good. Yes, you have heard a considerable amount about this ancient wizard’s tower during your studies. He was a promising wizard that grew his power at an exponential rate. The academy was once proud to call him their own, but now they use him as a cautionary tale.”

Everyone leaned forward as Eddie unraveled the lore of the tower’s creator, Nancy furiously taking notes and Jonathan jotting down what stood out to him. Steve sat, memorized, as Eddie’s soothing voice wrapped around him, painting the picture in his mind. Robin nodded along with his words, pausing when she saw Steve staring at Eddie intensely, marking that down in her mental notes for later.

“He realized that the academy was limiting him. The prospect of harnessing dark magic grew more and more tempting by the day, haunting his dreams at night. It became too much when the academy was attacked. Their mistake was thinking that if they shielded their students from the darkness, they would never be harmed from it. As it were, you cannot protect yourself from something you have no knowledge of. The students fell one by one, overcome by power that they could not understand.”

He paused for effect, a thunderstorm with bad timing rumbled outside, causing the lights above to flicker. They all stiffened, looking up until the lights steadied. The younger kids were at Sinclairs, so they weren’t worried about them galavanting. After their stunt last time with the whole Vecna thing and running from the police, the parents of the Party made it a point to take turns having movie or game night at their houses. This also encouraged the older kids to spend more time together.

Eddie exhaled slowly, seeing the others doing the same as they tried to get back to the game. “Until, finally, our wizard fled into the restricted section of the library and poured through its knowledge. He casted a spell so great that it destroyed all of his surroundings, killing every enemy and every friend. There he stood, in the middle of the rubble, without a scratch on him. Though, he felt his blood boiling, his veins turning black, nails extending into claws, and his eyes bleeding. For a moment, his heart stopped. Within that moment, the power of the darkness took over and flooded his body with unsurmountable power.”

“Who is he?” Robin asked quietly, not wanting to break the atmosphere.

Eddie’s brown eyes scanned over the players as he smirked. Just as he opened his mouth, the power went down. There was a collective gasp around the table and shuffling as they reached over to each other to ground themselves.

“The backup generator isn’t kicking in,” Nancy said.

“You guys have a backup generator?” Robin asked incredulously, feeling Nancy stand up next to her. “Where are you going?”

“My dad was so paranoid about Russians stealing electricity all over the country that he bought this expensive generator thing,” Nancy explained, “He’s kind of late on that, though. There should be extra flashlights and candles somewhere over here if the kids hadn’t gotten to them yet.”

“Here,” Jonathan said, flicking on his lighter.

He found Nancy and helped her look through the cabinets for the emergency supplies. Their eyes adjusted to the dim light, not finding anything familiar in their surroundings. Nancy frowned, reaching out to touch one of the side tables. Her fingers touched something and she tugged on Jonathan’s sleeve to come closer. She had found a candle and he quickly dislodged it from the table and lit it up.

“What the hell,” he muttered, touching the wall that was no longer covered in wallpaper, but cold stone bricks. “Guys?”

He turned and saw that Nancy had done quick work in finding the other candles, handing each of their friends one. Steve scanned the area, scanning the dark corners of the room before announcing that it was clear. Robin ran her hands along the walls until she found a wooden torch hanging from a metal sconce. Eddie, being tall enough to pull it out, brought it over to her to light up.

Now, with a brighter light source, the party could see what had become of the room. Eddie stumbled back with wide eyes, convinced for a moment that he had fallen asleep on the couch of the Wheelers basement and would wake up at any minute. Steve stepped towards the table that they were playing at, frowning as he lifted the object that was now on his chair. A sword. A frickin’ sword.

“We’re not in Hawkins anymore,” Eddie mused, looking at Robin.

“No shit,” she muttered, “What is this? This isn’t the Upside Down. No creepy vines or particles in the air.”

“It’s like we were taken into a dungeon,” Jonathan said, joining Steve at the table where he found a traveler’s pack and knives at his seat.

Nancy looked at the new items on the table, their character sheets and minis gone and replaced with their character items and clothing. She gingerly picked up her new crossbow, testing its weight and how to hold it. She turned to Robin who was flipping through a book filled with runes that she couldn’t understand. Robin’s blue eyes widened, her jaw dropping as she scanned through it.

“I understand what this is,” Robin said in disbelief, “I can read this.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie muttered, “Are we in the game? Not the type of level of immersion I was imagining. I was thinking more like LARP or something, but…”

His eyes caught the sight of a thick leather book, replacing his DM notes and Monster Manual. He ran his fingers along the embossing of the cover, a shiver running down his spine as a whisper tickled the back of his mind. So, the others were their characters, he presumed. Steve was a paladin, Robin a wizard, Nancy a ranger, and Jonathan a rogue. He usually played a bard, but this? This screamed warlock. So, who was his patron?

A noise from above jolted everyone from their state of shock, Steve taking position in front of the group with his great sword held at the ready. Nancy grabbed the nearest bolt and took a minute to figure out how to load the crossbow.

Footsteps neared the top of the stone stairs ahead of them, a warm glow leaking underneath the wooden door. Steve gripped the hilt and planted his feet in anticipation before the footsteps moved away. He exchanged a look with Nancy and Jonathan before moving towards the stairs. Robin jerked forward.

“Be careful, dingus,” she hissed.

Steve grimaced and gave her a nod, making his steps light as possible as he ascended. As he drew closer to the door, he began to hear bustling and chatter outside, like a bar or something. He turned to look at the group with a frown, lowering his sword to peek through the crack of the door. It was a bar. Well, some medieval bar. Tavern, as Eddie would describe it.

He made his way back down and described what he saw. They agreed to go up together, changing their outfits and packing their things before moving. With all the weird shit that they had dealt with throughout the years, they knew it was best to just roll with it and find out what’s going on to stop it. Steve was at the front again with Eddie, Robin, and Nancy in the middle, and Jonathan at the back. They pulled over the hoods of their cloaks and walked out, the sound of the tavern hitting them full force.

“Ah, adventurers!” A man with a full blonde mustache exclaimed, getting up from his table with arms spread open. “I’ve been awaiting your arrival. I am Sir Arthur Calthorn.”

“Have you?” Eddie asked, stepping forward.

“Oh, yes, indeed, Edmund the Banished. I’ve sent a letter to your guild for aid. Have you read it?”

“Guys?” Nancy held out a piece of parchment that appeared in her hand towards them.

“No fucking way,” Eddie muttered as Robin took it from her. “This is the exact letter I wrote out for you guys at the start of the game.”

“So, what? We gotta deal with this evil wizard again?” Jonathan asked.

“Precisely, Pentaxl, known by many circles as Ghostwalker for his quiet deposition and silent and quick movements. Nance Swifttaker, the deadliest and most precise shot of all the realms, a pleasure to see you as always. Magenta Silvertongue, genius polyglot and one of the most powerful spellcasters to ever grace the academy.” The man, Calthorn, nodded over to Nancy and Robin before clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “And the brave Steven Oathkeeper, slayer of beasts and protector of man.”

“Why do you guys have cool introductions?” Eddie whined under his breath. Nancy smacked him in the shoulder, shaking her head.

“You must help us with the darkness that threatens to spread throughout the Forgotten Realms. If the darkness spreads, then all of humanity is lost.”

“Cool. This isn’t crazy at all,” Steve muttered, sharing a freaked out look with Robin.

“And what realm are we in exactly?” Robin asked.

“Abeir-Toril,” Eddie answered before Calthorn could say anything. “One of many planets that exists in the Torilian System or the Realmspace.”

“Sharp as always, Edmund the Banished,” Calthorn said, snapping his fingers.

Eddie grimaced. “Don’t call me Edmund.”

“We need to get back home,” Nancy said, bringing back the situation at hand. “We’re not from here.”

“Of course, Miss Swifttaker, but in order to return to your homeworld, you must complete this mission,” Calthorn said, nodding to the letter. “And a key will be granted to you to take you back. Now…”

He clapped his hands and the group was teleported outside of the tavern where horses and a carriage awaited them. They looked around at the bustling and seemingly thriving city that they found themselves in, a steady traffic of carriages through the main road, market stalls lining the other side of the street, layers upon layers of districts passed that, leading up to a grand building in the middle.

“Now, come along,” Calthorn urged, climbing into the carriage. “We will be needing to meet with the counsel before you five set off.”

“Uh, normally I wouldn’t get in the car with strangers, so what’s the call here?” Robin whispered.

“He said that we will be given a key once we stop the darkness or something,” Nancy said, “And it’ll take us home. Unless we find some other way to get back without having to deal with all of this… whether it’s some kind of dream or whatever, we just have to keep moving and stick together. That’s all we can do for now. If we gain more information about this place, we’ll know where to go next.”

“See, this is why Wheeler, sorry, Swifttaker, is the leader,” Eddie said with a grin.

Jonathan nodded sagely. “So, who’s going in the carriage with the guy?”

“I’ll take one of the horses,” Steve offered, “I’m assuming that carriage can only fit four people, so…”

“I’ve got the crossbow, so I’ll take the other horse,” Nancy said.

“Okay, cool, but do you guys really think that we’ll be attacked in the middle of the city?” Robin asked, looking around. “Do you guys even know how to ride a horse?”

“I learned when I was little,” Steve said with a shrug.

Nancy nodded. “Me, too. It was during a rare Wheeler family vacation.”

“Ugh, rich people,” Eddie teased with a roll of his eyes. “I guess us peasants will take the fancy carriage, then. After you, m’lady.”

He held a hand out to help Robin in and did the same for Jonathan, much to his amusement, after Jonathan squeezed Nancy’s hand and kissed her on the forehead. Eddie turned to Steve and smiled.

“Guard the carriage for us, won’t you, big boy?” he said with a wink.

“I don’t know, am I getting a kiss on the forehead, too?” Steve played along.

Eddie’s grin widened. He leaned forward and planted an obnoxiously wet kiss on his forehead before patting him on his reddening cheek. Nancy raised an eyebrow at Steve who looked dazed until she nudged his shoulder. Once everyone was in the carriage and the other two on the horses, the group set off for what Calthorn called the Guild Quarters.

“God, I feel like I’m going to wake up any minute, having fallen asleep because of how boring the campaign was,” Robin said, her eyes darting around out the window.

“Hey, you guys were totally enjoying it!” Eddie protested.

Jonathan sighed. “Just when I thought I’d seen everything.”

The carriage merged into the traffic, being carried away towards the center of the city. Nothing looked familiar to anyone except Eddie, who’s eyes kept getting impossibly bigger the deeper into the city they traveled, seeing the map he made come to life right before him.

“Well, whatever is happening, hopefully this is a cool send off for you three before you leave for college, huh?”

Eddie turned away, feeling something pinch in his mind. A low growl echoed through his brain, a cold feeling like tentacles wrapping around him made him flinch.

“Eddie,” a familiar voice purred.

#writersmonth2022 #writer's month #hawkins crew #the older Party plays DnD #fruity four plays DnD #background Jancy #background Steddie #the party #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #steddie #jancy #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler

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aplanetaryghost · 1 year

Text

Sucker

I'm pretty sure my best friend's a vampire. I'm aware that opening with that makes me sound delusional, but I promise I'm not.

Maya's been my best friend since middle school. I told her when we were ten that I thought she was the most interesting person I'd ever met, and she gave me a glow-in-the-dark Silly Band and, giggling, invited me to her secret society. And thusly, we were inseparable, as most childhood best friendships go. Through the trials of middle school dances and AP classes. She was the first person I told when I stopped believing in God; I was the first person she told when she got a girlfriend last spring. We keep each other's secrets safe. So Maya's never been scary, never been weird before— I mean, we've both been weird, but in the way little girls are. Inventing elaborate backstories for our fairy characters on the playground, making potions out of sticks and grass.

The weird-weird stuff only started this past summer. Or at least, that's when I first noticed it. I don't remember the date, but it was early August, those dreamy midsummer days when school's not an imminent threat, but a distant memory.

Maya had had a dance recital. She's been doing ballet since she was tiny, way before I knew her. You'd think she'd resent it by now, but she doesn't, isn't the kind of person to lose her love for something because of what other people want her to be. Her dance company was doing The Firebird, and I certainly can't remember the plot, but I remember Maya. A riot of red, a ribbon of flame. You know how there are some people who just— sort of— glow? Maya's one of those people. Like, of course she got the lead, because there's something electric about her, something impossibly magnetic and expressive. I'm the quiet kind of storyteller; I keep it to self-indulgent fanfiction and the homebrew DnD campaign that'll blow everyone's socks off if I manage to finish it before I die. But Maya— Maya's a center stage sort of girl. She's the only one I'd believe playing a creature of legend. She's such a good dancer.

After the show I gave her some flowers; I don't really believe in traditional forms of manners like thank you notes and flowers, but my mom told me to bring them, so. And then Maya beamed as she took them from me, her brown eyes warm, honey-gold. Molten. Like there was fire in her then, too.

Anyway, her mom had work stuff (her mom always had work stuff) so she came home with us. We sat on my bed with the stripy sheets, and she didn't make fun of me for having way too many stuffed animals for a junior in high school, and after we talked for a while she spotted my ukulele leaning against the side of the desk. And she asked me to teach her something.

I mean, everyone and their mom learns "I'm Yours" on ukulele. It's super popular and it's in C, so it's sort of baby's first uke song. I said something mildly mocking about this to Maya and she laughed and said "Well, you don't have to teach me if it's too basic," and I blushed and said no I actually hate pretentiousness, and what kind of ridiculous person would try to gatekeep ukulele anyway, and she just laughed at me again, all airy and unsulliable. Sometimes I think Maya's made of different stuff from the rest of us. Sometimes I wonder why she bothers hanging out with me.

I explained a little bit about how chord diagrams work, but Maya's not really a visual learner, so I handed the ukulele over so she could try it out herself. But she still hadn't quite gotten the hang of how to press the strings down so they don't buzz when you strum them, so I reached over to help. It's sort of instinct to do that— I did it when I was teaching my little sister, Lou, too— because it's hard to explain it any other way. I feel kind of bad for invading people's space, but Maya's a pretty touchy person anyway, so I shifted closer to her on the bed and leaned over her shoulder. I reached to place my fingers over hers on the fretboard.

Her hand was freezing. It was ninety degrees outside, and our AC is super finicky, so it wasn't much cooler indoors. But Maya's hand was icy, and there were goosebumps up her arm. On some sudden fervent instinct, I grabbed her hand in both of mine and rubbed at the skin. "Why are you so cold?" I asked with a little laugh.

She looked down sheepishly and gave a forced chuckle, gently tugging her hand from mine. "Maybe it'll warm up if I actually get this chord right."

She sounded uncomfortable. Nervous, almost. Like I'd caught her out on— what? Having cold hands? Maybe she just hadn't expected me to touch her. Logically, I should have been able to brush it off, but I just couldn't. Everything about that afternoon stood out to me, but especially the feeling of her frigid hand in mine. I just kept thinking about it. In bed that night, long after she'd gone home. In the car the next day, on the way to pick up Lou from summer camp. Practicing ukulele by myself a couple weeks later. The warm line of my shoulder against her back and the slightly-too-closeness of her face and the chill that seemed to pass from her to me when I touched her hand. It was just so fucking vivid, and not in a bad way, exactly, but it was weird.

School started up again. I found Maya in homework and she beamed upon seeing me, and something sort of bubbled in my stomach, some weird nerves-excitement that I guess happens when you don't see your best friend for several weeks. And things were normal. I can't point at anything that was actually, tangibly off in those first few weeks. It's just that every interaction with Maya felt so charged, like now that she'd passed that strange electricity to me once, every time we touched each other that current flowed between us again. And it was unfamiliar and unsettling and also it meant nothing because nothing had actually changed, except for the fact that I was sort of addicted to it now: kept catching her eye in class, kept switching seats to sit next to her at lunch.

But I didn't really have anything to ascribe the feeling to until Mrs. Richmond introduced the first unit of Honors English. Joseph Sheridan LeFanu's Carmilla, like Dracula but before Dracula, and with more women. I'm not really a spooky-scaries person (as evidenced that I say shit like "spooky-scaries"), but it's short and has fantastical elements, both of which are very rare in books you have to read for school. So, fine by me. I know it came out before all those tropes existed— is maybe the reason we have these tropes— but it's funny reading a story that feels kind of like the ultimate vampire archetype. Spooky castle in vague eastern Europe. Beautiful mysterious stranger who hates crucifixes. Sorry Laura, but I think she vants to suck your blood.

I've never read vampire stuff before, though, and there's something compelling about it. There's this intensity to the way Laura and Carmilla talk to each other, a sort of self-destructive desperation that feels like maybe there's a universe where Laura just says screw it and runs off with Carmilla on a whirlwind vampire quest. I always make this joke that if some kind of portal-fantasy door opened up in my life I wouldn't think twice before diving through it— fantastical dangers or no, I want to see a dragon! And there's something sort of like that in Laura. Like she's looking for something she can't find, except maybe Carmilla is it. Just something about the way Laura thinks, feels, talks, there's a flicker of— something— in my mind, in my heart, in my stomach. A sort of recognition, but of what?

It tips over the edge when Maya bites me. That sounds weird, but— well, it's a little weird. Maybe I'm just making it weird.

We're sleeping over Jess's for her birthday and we're marathoning the entire High School Musical trilogy. But we started late so it's 2 a.m., maybe, and we're about halfway through the third one. While Kelsi tries to convince everyone to do one last show to celebrate their senior year, we giggle deliriously and flick popcorn at each other. Maya keeps trying to steal my sour patch kids, but she hasn't got a subtle bone in her body, especially when she's on a sugar high and loopy from how late it is. I hold the cardboard box of candy over my head, my arm flinging wildly enough that it'll probably spill all over the floor anyways. She clambers over me, grasping at my arms, a tangle of limbs and warm laughter, and I stagger to my feet, using my height to my advantage and dangling it out of her reach.

She huffs at my "unfair" use of "tall person privilege" and flops to the floor, declaring "I give up!" I follow suit, giggling softly, but I'm barely settled when she dives toward me again, eyes sparking. I fling the sour patch kids away but she just plasters herself to my side and announces, nonsensically, "I bet you taste better than sour patch kids!" and gives an exaggerated chomp to my shoulder, bare in my pajama tank top. We're all past laughing by now, more of a breathless wheeze, the kind you only get when it's way too late at night and you know each other better than anyone.

Then Jess cackles and says "Why are you two children? I'm trying to watch Troy Bolton's existential crisis over here!" And something about the awareness of another person in the room— what, did I think it was just me and Maya? this is Jess's house— snaps me back to the present, and a cold feeling comes over me. My stomach drops, and there's heat flooding my face, and I don't know why. But Maya just blinks a little and then goes back to chuckling at the movie, and Jess and Margo don't seem put off at all, so I settle back into our nest of blankets on the floor and try to focus on Sharpay singing about her big Broadway dreams.

The Monday after, October begins, and we're still talking about Carmilla, now with a sort of goofy spooky edge. We do a close read of the bit where Laura describes her dreams, but I can't focus on the strategic use of sensory imagery and foreshadowing because something about Laura's words is ringing, is resonating like a tuning fork set to the same note as some strange hidden part of my psyche. A magnetic pull, the rushing of a river. A strange, tumultuous excitement that was pleasurable, ever and anon, mingled with a vague sense of fear…

Mrs. Richmond says the river is the literal sensation of blood leaving her body, but I think it's something else. I think it doesn't matter what's physically happening when you're so wrapped up in a feeling; that Carmilla's consuming more of Laura's mind, or spirit, or something, than she is her blood. I know that intensity of feeling, have felt it before; it echoes the giddiness of that past Saturday, the sense that I was losing my mind in a good way. Maya's mouth on my bare skin.

Well— okay, hang on. That's. That's not normal. Most people don't think about their friends the way they think about vampires.

I'm a pretty rational person, okay, and a skeptic to boot. But something's felt off for a while, and my brain latches onto this idea. Conjures a corkboard in my mind, draws strands of yarn between cold hands and strange attraction and teeth against my skin. Scrawls MAYA IS A VAMPIRE in messy red marker over the top.

There's no fucking way. Right? Except now that the idea is named in my head I can't stop seeing it. Maya shading her eyes in the sun. Maya leaning into me for warmth. Maya not eating any of Margo's mom's garlic bread even though it's fucking delicious. Maya's eyes meeting mine and my brain plunging into some pool of Maya Maya Maya as if there's nothing else. Don't vampires have hypnotism or something?

This is so stupid. I feel like a crazy person. I can't stop thinking about it, though. I go through the rest of the day in a weird haze, passing through class and homework and dinner with my mom and sister like a zombie. I try to distract myself but can't focus on anything because as ridiculous as this idea seems it also feels like an answer, like one I didn't know I was waiting for. I go to bed and toss and turn for a few hours and eventually give in, grabbing my laptop off my desk. The faint glow of the screen casts a ghostly glow on my face in the dark of my room.

I don't really know what kind of search terms would get me where I need to go, and my brain's not really firing on all cylinders right now, so my first search attempt is the astonishingly intelligent carmilla vampire feelings real??? Which, shocker, does not bring up a helpful step-by-step checklist of signs of vampirism in your childhood best friend.

It does bring up an article called "Queer Desire in Joseph Sheridan LeFanu's Carmilla," which takes me aback. I click on the article and read through it, then go back and click on another. The rabbit hole swallows me and suddenly it's 4 a.m. and I'm deep in the YouTube comments of some vlogger-themed adaptation of the book, all of which say things like Carmilla could murder me and I would thank her and me, not knowing I was a lesbian: wow I wonder what it's like to kiss a pretty vampire girl.

At this point the blue light is hurting my eyes a little and, exhausted from my strange fugue state, I shut my computer and stare into the dark of my room. For a couple seconds there's just white noise in my head, my brain overfull with words and snatches of dialogue and flashes of photos. I let it sieve through my brain, the fluttering thoughts settling until suddenly they coalesce into a question I somehow hadn't even thought to ask.

It's four a.m. I sit in my bed. I ask myself do I want Maya to kiss me? And—

Well, shit.

The static fills my brain again, but not— not in a bad way, this time, I don't think. Just that flood of Maya Maya Maya, terrifying and reassuring all at once. Uncertain what to do, I'm left still staring at the ceiling until I fall asleep.

The next day, Maya sits next to me in math, and the world implodes. I mean, it doesn't, not really, there are no external indications that such a thing might be happening. But I feel like someone pumped me full of helium and if I don't cling to reality white-knuckled I'll float away and maybe accidentally burn up in the sun. That sounds like my luck. I just keep looking at her. That Maya Maya Maya chorus has gotten louder, incessant, like my brain has decided it's key to my survival that I be distinctly aware of her presence at all times. We're partners for solving a problem on the board. She grins at me and jokingly names our team after the two of our names smashed together, like we're a popular ship from a sitcom. My insides are fizzing like that time when I was nine and ate five packets of Pop Rocks on a dare.

But the world goes on even after it ends, apparently, because I don't spontaneously combust that day. Or the next. Or the next. I stammer my way through a couple of interactions with Maya, I shift uncomfortably in my seat when we talk about our opinions of Carmilla, but there's no catastrophe. I think this is what they were talking about when we learned about adaptation in bio. Sometimes shit just happens and you just…continue to exist. Reshape yourself around it. The feelings for Maya, unexpected and unrequited as they are, become comfortable. Like a worn-in sweater.

Maya talks about her girlfriend— not the one from last spring, someone new from the grade below us who she's in dance with, her name's Lily— more and more. It seems like she's getting more comfortable, too, and I'm happy for her. At first I think I can never tell her about me, like the fact of loving girls is permanently entangled with the fact of loving Maya, and admitting my sexuality to her would be showing my hand and ruining her relationship and a whole other host of anxious spirals. But weeks go by, and my heart settles a little. When Jess asks if there's a guy I want to take to the winter formal in November, I seize the moment and awkwardly reply "Or girl." And Maya grins and echoes, "Or girl." And then it's done.

And then I tell my friend Parker from band, who's been out to me since freshman year anyway, and who thankfully is not embroiled in this whole mess and therefore is perfectly willing to listen to me lament my unrequited love as much as I need to. And slowly, the crush on Maya starts to feel less like an earth-shattering event or a collapsing star and more like something I can melodramatically gossip about in the band room after school. Then we finish Carmilla a week before Halloween and I get possibly the best idea I've ever had, even though it's literally an inside joke with myself.

There's a party at Jess's on the thirty-first. Maya will be there. So will everyone else. An hour before, I press fangs onto my teeth with cosmetic glue and smudge fake blood across my lips. When I'm done, I grin wickedly in the mirror.

Maybe being a creature of the night isn't so bad.

#original story #writers of tumblr #short story #i don't know how to tag these yet i'll figure it out #i wrote this for a project earlier this semester and absolutely should have edited it again before posting it here but #oh well #creative writing #fiction #vampires and bi awakenings a match made in heaven

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ladyazulina · 11 months

Text

Linney's Campaign

Masterpost

Let's find out!

Though, first of all, I think I'm waiting to pass to the second tick to start posting the first. I have one part ready, the immediate continuation of this one, but... I don't know, don't ask me.

Importance notice, though. I would love to let you all be in control of most creation, but for that, I first need to know who's there waiting for the opportunity. I know I will be able to do it live someday, but until then, here's where we meet.

In the last part I wrote, there was an unknown person, marked as [X] in the writing (was really exciting, though). The only thing I know about them is their job (role: mailperson). What else is there to know? That's what you're going to accompany me today, I will make that townie right now.

First throw, fantastical ancestry; 2d10 dice, 74, and it says they are... an ORC. OMG, they're so BIG. I know an orc I like, it's from a webtoon, 1HP Club.

Now let's see what the Spirit of the Forest says... are they magical or not? The dice said 63, and the Spirit said yes. Let's throw for the kind of magic, yeah? Between the 26 (13) different types of magic, the specified throw (the oracle was the one with all the skills, but I only wanted the magical types) gave me a 17, that one is the ✨🌈 Rainbow Magic 🌈✨

What are the possible names for this Orc? 65, those are... Morel, Orion, or Potoo, and I'm already leaning towards Orion. I love space-ish things, don't judge me.

Their job, we know that already, a mailperson.

Their age is, uh 50- young adult. Everyone is young adult, omg (not that I'm complaining, not at all).

Finally! Their real pronouns are... 42 - AHA! Orion is he / him.

And his gender presentation should go accordingly- 88... Other, again? Linney's already other... Uh, do I want this? It's enough that he's an orc, isn't it? Let's go with masculine without feeling guilty.

Oh, I always throw for how many traits the townies will have with the action dice (1d6), 1-2 means 1, 3-4 means 2, and 5-6 means three, so let's see that first. How many traits, how many traits?~ Ugh, fine! Only one. Which trait, which trait?~ 11, that is... bold! How an orc I think should be~

When's his birthday? 07, pretty soon! Spring 7, in a week! Yikes...

What would be his charm points, uhm? 69, a narrow frame. Uuh, I think I can see that.

Now it's his hobby... 99! Uh, those last 12 hobbies are repeated and I haven't made new hobbies to replace them, so I will throw again. 55, that sounds better, though the matches are putting me on edge, haha! Model trains! Owns, like trains. How patient should he be, uh?

What more can I decide now? Oh! Of course, how he will be his relationship with Linney, that will help me a lot while writing with him. 89, that can be creepy, let's see. Like family! Owwww, that's cute! That means that Orion will likely be really motivated to help Linney in their endeavors! We already have a friend, people!

Something else to find right now? Favorite location? Maybe we can find out about that later, no other Linney's townies have favorites in their sheets right now, so...

Okay, so we finished with Orion! Because yes, he will be called Orion. I'm going to share a proper character sheet when I found him in a picrew. Though now I'm noticing that I did the second townie (the first one Linney encounters) on my own and never shared their character sheet... Uh, am I forgetting things already? How come?

Well! That was all for today's endeavor! Hope you have liked it. I definitely adore making characters at random, they give me their vibes and I can pull things I never thought about before! If you would like to have more control over some townies, let me know and maybe I will let you all make the next one. Who knows, maybe you even can influence their behavior too! You definitely can with Linney, if you're around when I need some ideas.

Hope to come back again soon!

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whyam-here · 2 years

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I wrote a dnd campaign for my friends, and it's mostly original (with a lot of references to other ideas people have posted, mostly on here - see horrible goose and ice skeletons wielding swords of mercury). I let my friends know about it a while ago, and asked them to create characters.

2 friends made characters in a reasonable time frame. Their characters were good, one came with a solid idea and one asked for help I was more than willing to provide.

2 more players, the point of this post, didn't give me anything at the time. Nor, did they provide it a reasonable time after that.

No, a full month later, I asked the players to please provide me the character sheets by that Sunday, as the plan was to play the following week.

Thankfully for them the start date was pushed back by a couple weeks, as one of the two players, a bit after midnight, said they hadn't realized it was Sunday and that they'd work on their character. The other chimed in, saying that they'd be available in an afternoon a couple days later to go over creating the character.

The afternoon rolls around, and the player says nothing (they hadn't specified a time so I was just waiting for them to contact me). Finally, I pinged them on discord asking if they were available. a bit later, they said yes, they were, just give them a sec to hop on their pc. I quickly grabbed my stuff and went to my room so I could vc them without waking other members of my household.

An hour later, I have-jokingly asked if they'd actually, physically jumped on their PC because they hadn't said anything since then(keep in mind I'm now in my room, which doesn't have ac, so I'm quite warm). they respond and say they'll be on soon, they just had to move some stuff around.

they other player lacking a character comes online and starts detailing their character. well, they gives me the characters race - not the most helpful info. they then say they haven't come up with a personality cause they're making homebrew changes to the characters race. .....ok sounds interesting? they give me some background info about how the race came to be (offshoot of existing race) but doesn't even attempt to place the race in the world.

finally, frustrated, I spend less than 10 minutes writing the rest of the backstory for the character's people, where they are living on the map, and some possible reasons the character might have left their community and joined the party. no response.

the other player, the one that didn't jump on their PC, just turned a sec into over an hour, finally chimes in and adds a character sheet they made a while ago (they'd previously mentioned this one to me). the character was not at the correct level (the adventure I'm running requires high-level characters) so we were gonna increase the levels and call it good. except...

this player has never played dnd before (tbf, the rest of the group has only played a couple of times) and so (reasonably) decides not to play a druid and instead choose a different class. We basically had to rewrite the character from scratch.

by the time we'd finished, it'd been about 3 hours and was past my bedtime. I still had chores to do around the house that had to be done that day.

players, if this is you (or if you happen to be one of the people I'm calling out in this post) please either get your character in within a couple weeks of being asked to or just have your dm pull one up for you. if you have an idea but aren't sure how to execute it, I'm sure your dm would be more than happy to pull up a character sheet and explain it to you - I know I would.

In light of these and other events, though, I'm now a bit worried about the campaign. I'm not sure if it'll turn out good or even get finished at all. I might post an update in a couple months if it either really well or if it goes as poorly as I fear, I'm not sure though.

#dnd #dnd player #dnd dm #dungeons and dragons #dnd help #oh god please #send help #im so tired #im going insane #players please just talk to your dm #save them the hassle

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jonnywaistcoat · 2 years

Text

Hi all, it’s Jonny. You remember, from The Magnus Archives? So, we’re in the last three days of the crowdfunder for my latest project, PITCRAWLER, and I really, really want it to do well, so I thought I’d do another plug post to try and nudge anyone on the fence about it to back (or to remind folks who were like “oh yeah, maybe I’ll back that later” - now’s the time!).

I’m not going to post a link ‘cause I know that means Tumblr hides posts, but if you google “pitcrawler” then the IndieGoGo campaign should be the first result.

So what is PITCRAWLER?

It’s a tabletop roleplaying game that I’ve been designing with my partner Sasha Sienna (Georgie from Magnus). It’s an over-the-top fantasy game inspired by old adventure gamebooks like Fighting Fantasy or Lone Wolf, with “wizard airbrushed onto the side of a van” vibes (though much less racist/misogynist/colonialist than a lot of the fantasy of that era, and much more queer-friendly).

It’s designed to be played with two players, one adventurer and one gamesmaster, and has a simple system intended to be accessible to new players who might be curious about roleplaying but find the prospect of big games like Dungeons & Dragons a bit intimidating, or who might not be able to get a half dozen friends together, but can probably convince one other person to play.

In it, you play an adventurer trying to make their way in a world ruled by hyper-powerful wizards who have carved reality up into their own weird domain. Thematically, it’s unsurprisingly anti-capitalist, with the wizards very much standing in for weird, out-of-touch billionaires and oligarchs.

Will I like it?

I think so! It’s a fun, light-hearted adventure romp that requires no preparation or experience to play, with loads of random tables and guidance to help new players find their feet. Plus, it’s got fantastically cool old-gamebook art like this!

Look at that boney fellow! He’s having a great time!

How much is it?

The basic PDF version is only £13, with physical copies starting from £26, though there are obviously higher tiers that get you cooler stuff, like journals to record your adventures and tear-off character sheet notebooks!

Can I try it out first?

Yes! There’s a Quickstart Guide available for download on the IndieGoGo page, which gives you the full basic rules and a small selection of backgrounds, expertises, companions etc, as well as four sample adventures!

How long do I have to think about it?

The IndieGoGo campaign finished on Wednesday 25th May, and while there will be opportunities to pre-order it afterwards, backing it now will mean there’ll be more good stuff in the book itself. Our next stretch goal (which we are tantalisingly close to) will add a whole bunch of extra random tables to the book! So if you’re curious or interested, please consider backing it now!

Can I play an adventurer who used to be a Mayor?

Weird question, but yes! You even get a special mayor’s hat as a starting item!

Can my best friend be a goblin who plays the bagpipes?

Uh, again, yes. That would probably be the Musician companion in the full game, and absolutely they can be a goblin if you’d like.

Can-

Look, I’m going to stop you there, if these are the sort of questions that amuse or excite you, I really think you’re going to love PITCRAWLER, so check out the campaign and back it if you can.

Where did you say I could find it?

Just google “pitcrawler” and it should be the first result.

Right. Cool. Wait, why did you post this in “The Magnus Archives” tag?

Well, uh... You see... Um... Look out! Behind you! A wizard!

#pitcrawler #macguffin & co #crowdfunding #the magnus archives #thirteen storeys #jonny sims #sasha sienna #indiegogo #cynical marketing tags

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hardlystrictlystarwars · 3 years

Text

What happens in Canto Bight (Commander Wolffe x Jedi! F!Reader)

Masterlist || Tag list || Requests/Prompt sheet || Requests

Commander Wolffe x Jedi! F!Reader (Fake Marriage troupe)

What’s life without love?

Concept art inspo(jedi look) // Concept art inspo(Wardobe look) // Concept art inspo(Canto Bight look) People much more talented than I am created the art used for the concept art and gifs

Warnings/Topics: minor character death, canon-typical violence and cursing, some heated kissing(nothing too bad though)

A/N: Happy May the 4th Be With You! I wanted to post something today and this is the latest piece I had been working on. It’s a little different, but I really like it. The Wolffe x Reader comes out later in the second half of this one-shot btw. Also did I use a gif of Coruscant because I couldn’t find one of Canto Bight that I like... maybe but I’ll never tell. Anyways I hope you like it!! Happy Star Wars Day!!

“Careful we must be, when delivering this news to her padawan,” Was the first thing you heard after waking up. Master Yoda’s voice, while calm as always was now only filled with sorrow and dread.

“I will do it” Master Kenobi’s voice responded, “I was the last one with Master Gallia,”

“Wise choice that is,” Master Yoda claimed. The small pats of his cane echoed as you could feel them move closer to you.

You stirred a little before opening your eyes. First feeling the tightness from the bacta patch on your abdomen and the IVs in your arm. Once you managed to open your eyes, they were hit with the blinding lights of the med bay. It took you a few moments of blinking before you were able to make out the two masters at your bedside.

“Master yoda, Master Kenobi ,” You addressed them.

“Young one, a grave blast you have survived” Master Yoda sighed, “But sorrow we feel more for your loss,”

All of a sudden, the events flooded back to you. You and your Master Adi Gallia had been on campaign to take back a Sepertist-ruled planet in the mid-rim. Your assignment was to organize an air raid that she would follow with a coordinated ground assault. While you had been successful on your front, when landing to help your master, the LA-AT you had been abroad was shot down. The last thing you remember was your master pulling you from the debris and calling out for help.

“I am so sorry my dear young one,” Master Kenobi uttered, “Your Master and I left for a mission while you were recovering here-”

“Oh Maker, Masters,” You gasped, interrupting him. You looked up at the two of them, feeling something in the force. It was a terrible sorrow like you had never felt before built up in your chest. Tears started falling down your cheeks as you felt your heart crushed. You didn’t need Master Kenobi to finish giving you the news of what had happened. You could already feel it.

Your master was dead.

---------------- Weeks later

“Hey! Shiny with the sword!” One of the clones called out to you across the dining hall, “Come sit with us!”

You froze looking over at the table where the voice came from, a little shocked at the volume he used. It was the first time anyone of the 104th had interacted with you besides on the battlefield. Even after being reassigned to Master Plo as his apprentice and having been aboard their ship for weeks, you still had yet to make even a friend besides your Master. Instead, most of the time you found yourself in your quarters reading or in the ship’s meditation chamber.

You hesitantly walked over to the group of about half a dozen troopers, hoping that eating with them at their table would be better than in your quarters again.

“Hey! You’re General Plo’s new kid right?” One of the other clones asked, “The one from General Gallia?”

Even though it had been a couple of weeks since your former master’s death, her name shocked you. It sounded foreign rolling off someone’s tongue. However, you quickly hid any shock from your face and just sat down with your lunch tray instead.

“Oh kriff!” One of them exclaimed, “You jedi always get access to the good stuff,”. He peaked at your lunch before taking a piece of jorgan fruit off your plate and popping it in his mouth.

“Please, feel free to have the rest,” You offered, pushing the plate towards them, “I’m actually allergic,”

A couple of the clones immediately dug their hands into the bowl of fruit. Soon after, there were a few murmured introductions over their chewing. As it came down to the last couple of pieces, you couldn’t help but giggle a little at their manners as they fought over who would get it.

“Commander (Y/L/N),” Someone said in a stern voice, everyone’s head looked up to see where it had come from.

All the clones immediately recognized who the voice belonged to and elected to stop fighting. It was Commander Wolffe.

You looked up, startled by his appearance. While the two of you technically shared the same rank of commander, you had yet to actually build up the courage to talk to him in a setting other than front lines of a battle.

“Uh yes Commander?” You uttered, nervously toying with the hem of your sleeve.

“I’m sorry to cut your lunch short, but General Plo has requested to see the two of us on the bridge immediately,”

You stood up giving a small, quick wave goodbye to some of the troopers before following the commander out of the dining hall. It was a quiet few steps with next to him as you tried to keep up with him. It took three of your steps to make up for just one of his.

The silence lasted until the two of you stood in lift going up.

“I see you started fraternizing with my troopers,” He said, breaking the silence. The words came out almost as a threat making your heart stop for a moment.

If you had the courage, you would’ve argued you shared the same rank and they were your troopers as much as his. But you didn’t, instead electing to stay quiet. Anxiously looking up, watching the floor numbers increase and praying the lift would speed up.

“I would have expected you’d come around sooner,” He smirked with his head facing front, “Rumor has it that your old master has a sharp tongue. Something she taught and passed onto you,”

“Had,” You finally spoke in a soft voice, correcting him, “My Master Gallia had a sharp tongue,”

While you admired the compassion Master Plo had emphasized in your training, you missed your old master’s wit and sarcasm. A snide comment didn’t feel the same as when she was alive. So you chose to hold your tongue back ever since her death, figuring any of her humor she had passed down to you had died along with her.

The doors of the lift opened up to the bridge. General Plo stood talking with a couple of deck officers, everything seemed to be business as usual.

“”Commander, my padawan,” Master Plo greeted the two of you, finding you among the the sea of officers, “I have an classified mission for the two of you,”

“Classified?”

“For the two of us?” Wolffe and you said over each other.

“Yes,” You master answered you both, “The Galactic Army has assigned the two of you to go undercover into the Sepertist-ruled city of Canto Bight. We have reason to believe many of the casinos there are fronts for the Separatist’s money-laundering. The GAR’s main goal is to make this war unfinanceable without ruining the city of Canto Bight,”

Taking down a source of revenue for the Separatists would be a huge victory for the Republic. It could be a possible tide-changer in the war. You looked at Wolffe, both of you were sharing the same expression, understanding the weight of this mission.

Your face turned into a frown, thinking and somewhat confused about how Wolffe could be assigned your partner, “Master, with all due respect, but there might be a problem with this plan. Seeing as Commander Wolffe has a recognizable face,”

“That is no worry Padawan,” Plo chuckled, “The jedi recently had some success using facial transformation, vocal moducatores, and holomasks. I think it will work to side-step the issue of Commander Wolffe being recognized,”

“How do you know that it will work against the Separatists?” Wolffe asked, suspicious about the tech mentioned.

“It was good enough to fool General Skywalker and Count Dooku,”

Wolffe nodded, accepting Plo’s answer. If it was good enough to fool the proclaimed “Chosen One” and Master Yoda’s old apprentice, it was good enough for him.

“Your wardrobes and cover identification chips will be delivered to your quarters. The two of you leave tomorrow before breakfast,” Your Master dismissed you.

The two of you bid him goodbye and started walking away.

“Also, Commander and my dear padawan, one more thing,” He called out to the two of you, both you turned once more to look at him, “The two of you are going undercover as a recently married couple,”

----------------

“No, absolutely not,” You said, stepping out from the partition and taking a good look at yourself in the mirror.

“Come on, you don’t look that bad” Boost, one of the troopers you had met at lunch and had delivered your wardrobe commented.

When he dropped off all of the pieces for your new identity you requested him to stay. Asking him to help you sort out which outfits you could actually wear. Glance at most of the clothes the GAR had given you, you were pretty sure they had just raided the closet of a pit dancer.

“I can see why the Jedi stuck to robes,” You said as you picked at the slim fabric that hung around your waist. Having a wardrobe that consisted only of robes since you were a youngling, your innate instinct was to cover up all of your exposed skin.

“You can’t hate it that much,” Boost dragged his voice. He had told you he didn’t know any married women or anything about them, but he did claim to have extensive knowledge on what all the girls wore to 79’s when the 104th was on Coruscant. At the time it was good enough to let him stay and help you.

“Does everything else look like this?” You asked, pinching your face in disgust. While the cover the GAR had assigned you was pretty much summed up to be the life of a just-married noblewoman, the clothing they had sent along with it gave you more than enough detail of who you were really supposed to be.

“What, do you really not like it?” He asked, eyeing you up and down.

“Boost! My boobs are gonna fall out of this!”

“Here, try on this,” He threw you another outfit. This one seemingly longer.

“This one better at least cover my navel,” You complained before walking behind the partition again.

As you undressed you heard the doors swoosh open.

“Whoa commander, you look different,” Boost laughed.

“What, was I too ugly for you before?” A deep voice answered. The voice sounded close to Wolffe’s, but also completely different. It was hardened and more grueling compared to his normal voice. Ever word he spoke was intimidating, like everything he said was an automatic threat.

“What about this one?” You voice tapered off as you stepped out again seeing what used to be your commander.

Wolffe now had an eye patch over his prosthetic, a couple of deep, nasty scars that laid over his skin, his eyes were piercing blue instead of brown and his haircut had been been changed red buzzcut. The two of you stood in front of each other in your new looks, stunned in silence at the site of the other.

“You look nice,” He said, his eyes lingering on you.

“You look different,” You replied, missing the old Wolffe for a reason you couldn’t explain.

Wollfe messed around with the buckle of his belt before his appearance pixelated and suddenly the real version of him was back.

”Better now Commander?” He asked, now standing in the middle of your quarters with just his black on.

“Maybe, depends if your acting skills compete with your looks,” You teased with a smile on your face.

“There’s that sharp tongue,” He smirked, “I knew it was somewhere,”

---------------- Weeks later undercover

“There’s a Republic-disguised cruiser coming to pick us up tomorrow,” Wolffe told you as the two of you prepared to go out one last time, “It should be here by morning to pick us up and take us back to the 104th,”

“So we only get to look like a couple one last time and then it’s all over?” You asked, trying to put the last pins in your hair. Even after several weeks of being undercover with Wolffe and doing your hair on a daily basis, you still struggled.

“I’m afraid you only get to be my wife for one more night,” Wolffe replied, appearing behind you to help.

He hadn’t put on his belt and changed into his disguise yet so you saw his soft, natural brown eyes, instead of the icy blue ones that he had as a part of his cover. You were a little happier upon seeing his honest reflection in the mirror.

“You know, as a jedi we’re told marriage is never an option so I never thought I would actually get to be with someone,” You said with a smile, watching him intently focus on sliding a pin into the perfect place of your updo, “I’m really glad I got to be married to you Wolffe. Even if it was just for a little bit and if it technically wasn’t real,”

You turned to face him once his hands left your hair.

“Well, I’m the luckiest man in the galaxy to have had you just for the time that I did,” He replied.

You suddenly found yourself sentimental at the sound of his words. Realizing that after this mission you would probably have to lie and say that you didn’t miss being undercover with him.

Your gut told you that Canto Bight would always have a significant place in your heart because of a certain someone.

It would be inaccurate to say that you and him hadn’t grown close over the last several weeks. You had opened up to him about your injury and waking up to find you had lost your master. He had talked about almost losing his entire battalion and then losing his eye. Your conversations with each other, having each other’s backs and the amount of times you saved each other's lives while undercover blurred the line of being just friends.

You reasoned that it was just for the mission. However, the more you thought about it, the more clear it became that it wasn’t just that. The two of you had both found simple ways of helping the other. Whether it was Wolffe helping you with your hair each day or you preparing Wolffe’s caf in the early morning just the way he liked it. Both of you could have done the mission without these little ways in your routine, but you liked these little things. They helped to make it not just another mission for the GAR, but rather something for yourself.

“Wolffe, do you think that there’s a chance we might go on another mission like this?” You asked, stepping closer to him and closing the gap between the two of you.

“If the GAR deems our mission successful, I don’t see why not,” He shrugged, welcoming your closeness.

“I would really like that,” You replied.

You knew what you were saying to him was pushing the lines of the Jedi Code. That if any code-abiding jedi heard your words, you would most certainly be punished, possibly even be kicked out of the order. But you reasoned that it was your last night of being undercover. Maybe it wasn’t too harmful to play into what you felt for just a little bit longer.

----------------

“We have a tail,” Wolffe said, looking over his shoulder. His eyes hooked on a pair of Zygerrians sitting at a nearby table. They were clearly still pretending to be playing the same game of sabacc they had started an hour ago.

“We’ve had them tail us for weeks,” You replied before taking a sip of your beer, “It’s no different now if we just keep our covers,”

“We should take care of them now,” Wolffe said, his hand over his pistol in holster. He was probably a little bit too trigger-happy after weeks of not being on the frontlines.

You quickly placed your hand over his, stopping him from pulling out his pistol, “If we engage then we will out ourselves as apart of the Republic, and all the work we’ve done over the last several weeks will be for nothing,”

The stakes of the mission were high, if the Separatists found out that two Republic commanders were shooting up a storm on their occupied planet it wouldn’t take long for them to figure out the Republic’s intentions. They would move their money out of Canto Bight and all the information you and Wolffe had collected on their money-laundering scheme would be useless.

“They’re looking over here again,” He murmured, “They know,”

“If they knew we were Republic we would be dead by now,” You sighed.

“It’s not safe, we’re leaving,” He said, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the bar you had been sitting at.

“Wolffe -my beer!” You exclaimed being pulled away from it.

“I'll buy you another one sometime,” He said, slipping off the jacket he was wearing and putting it on your shoulders as you exited the bar.

As the two of you made your way back to the apartment you had been put up in, the zygerrians had decided to suddenly end their sabacc game and followed closely behind. Wolffe put his arm around you, pulling you in closer to him as he guided the two of you down a few dark backstreet pathways.

“They’re still following us,” You said, looking behind you. It was just the two of you a few paces in front of the linger Zygerrians now.

“Do you trust me?” Wolffe asked looking down at you.

“Of course,” You replied without any hesitation.

Without skipping a beat, his hands were wrapped around your thighs, pinning you up against the closest wall so his back was to the Zygerrians. His lips landing on yours. His hands never letting go of your thighs, instead, giving them a good squeeze that drew out a small gasp from you.

While the two of you had kissed in public before, it was never like this. Never in a way that made your cheeks flush. For a short moment, you forgot that it was all for show. Instead, just letting yourself enjoy it.

You could feel his chest expand with his breath as he pressed against you. His lips traveled down your jaw and then to the arch of your neck. His gentle yet affectionate nature had you withering around him for another touch. You wondered if this was what marriage was really like. If it was this that made the jedi concerned about allowing any attachments.

Gently pressing a few kisses on your collar bone. You wrapped your hand around the nape of his neck, making sure his lips wouldn’t leave your skin.

“Grab my pistol in the holster,” He murmured against you, calling you to the task at hand, “Grab it and shot them,”

As much as you wanted to stay in the moment, you did what he told you. You grabbed one of his dual blaster pistols and raised it at the Zygerrians. They were both unsuspecting, looking away from you and Wolffe. As you fired, they turned just in time to realize they were too late to draw their whips. With two blaster shots, there were two Zygerrians on the ground not moving.

Wolffe let go of your legs, setting your feet back on the floor, “Nice shot commander,”

You were still a little bit too stunned by his actions to reply.

----------------

You had been back on board the 104th star-cruiser a couple of days.

You and Wolffe went your separate ways after giving your reports to the GAR. Everything changed after that. Everytime you and he were in the same room, he stood a little closer next to you. Sometimes you would sneak a quick peck when no one was looking. At nights, one of you would sneak into the other’s quarters.

When you were alone, you could feel how much you wanted to be with him. You knew your Master Plo could feel the change of your state through the force, telling you to meditate on “whatever it could possibly be”.

You followed his directions, walking down to the meditation chambers. As you walked, your baggy jedi robes got caught in between your legs. Something that had developed over not wearing them for so long.

You had returned most of the clothes the GAR had given you, although you secretly kept some of the garments that had grown on you. They were a nice reminder of your time on Canto Bight. Although the outfits didn’t look exactly the same if you didn’t do your hair. Something only Wolffe could help you with.

Your legs crossed over a pillow, trying to relax and connect with the force. Trying to discipline yourself long enough to reestablish a connection with the force like you had before your mission. It seemed like you tried for hours to shed all emotions and attachments. But nothing came of it, your mind kept slipping back to Wolffe. You instead focused on him, what would become of the two of you.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. It slid open to reveal Wolffe.

You smiled at the sight of him.

“You missed dinner, thought you might be hungry,” He said, placing a plate of plums in front of you before grabbing another pillow and sitting down next to you.

“Thanks you,” You replied before starting to eat, not realizing how hungry you had become.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” He said, “You weren’t at the meeting on the bridge this morning,”

“I was with Master Plo. He said he wants me to take my trials within the next cycle,” You revealed. Both of you knew if you passed, you would probably have to leave the 104th and become the General of another battalion. Meaning both of you could be sent to different sides of the galaxy at any point.

There was a lull between the two of you before Wolffe spoke up again, “Do you ever miss Canto Bight?”

Your head tilted at him, flashbacks of memories flooded your mind as you thought about the time you spent there, “Yes, sometimes,” You replied, “Do you?”

“Yes, sometimes, but I find myself okay with what I left with, someone who is much better than the city itself,” He smiled, looking at you.

Your heart melted as you grinned back, “Who is this lucky girl commander?”

“Well,” He sighed, relaxing and spreading his feet out, “They deserve someone much better than me, that’s for sure. Even if they end up choosing a life of solitude, it would probably be better than if they ended up with someone like me. But they’re that kind of person that has convinced me that I’ll die a happy man if I die around them,”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his morbid words, almost choking on the slice of plum in your mouth.

“They sound great Wollfe, but don’t put yourself down like that, I’m sure they’re just as lucky to have you,” You said, placing your hand on top of his, feeling the rough calluses on his fingers, “Have you told this person about how you feel?”

“Not exactly, but I think I’ve made it pretty clear,” He leaned in closer to you, “But every time I want to, I’m reminded that our lives won’t allow it,”

“Huh? And why is that?” You frowned.

“We can’t be together,” He summed up, “If anyone ever found out my feeling for you, I would be decommissioned and you would lose your whole livelihood,”

Your heart sank hearing his words. Though, you knew he was right.

“You know what’s crazy though?” He asked resting his forehead on top of yours, “I love you enough that I would risk it all for you. If you asked me, I would do it in a heartbeat without any regrets,”

You knew what he was suggesting. And you knew you would do it for him if he asked you to leave the order.

“I used to think this war was just a mess of power and glory, but you’ve changed that. Somehow, you’re worth making this mess,” He leaned in kissing you, “Whether you choose to leave it or not, I’ll follow you wherever,”

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #wolffe fic #commander wolffe fic #commander wolffe x y/n #tcw wolffe #tcw fic #tcw #tcw imagine #star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #my writing

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black-metal-bard · 3 years

Text

A few WIPS of my party’s Waterdeep: Dragonheist characters

Eventually, she’s going to become a Necromancer(she killed what was supposed to be a mini-Boss with one shot of Vicious Mockery, so the DM let her take his spell book as loot. She’s going to multi class into Wizard at level 5 to represent the time she spent studying the book. This also made her signature phrase “Sticks and stones may break your bones but Words will Fucking Kill You.” As a Good Aligned Necromancer and Spirit Bard, she’ll often be raising corpses simply by asking spirits to inhabit them.

She’s actually the daughter of a human nobleman and a Tiefling servant, but she has no idea about her father, and doesn’t actually care. When she was born, her father saw her as a Curiosity to show off; The Demon Princess...a talking piece to show visiting dignitaries. Her mother, not wanting her daughter to essentially be an exotic pet, fled the castle with her as a baby. Her mother raised her in a communal society predominantly made up of Tieflings, but also a wildly varied assortment of abandoned children. She has a sister in the commune who is a Goblin.

Here she’s depicted in flat colors in her usual gear, her fancy gear, and her casual wear(what she generally wears around Trollskull)

Balasar: My husband’s Dragonborn* War Cleric. He was a soldier in a war fought largely against a Tiefling mercenary army, but he became disillusioned with the military after being ordered to do so many horrible things. Having no memories of his life before joining the army, he wanders alone for quite some time, becoming a Cleric to Odin so he can use his strength to help people, rather than hurting whoever the generals point his sword at. When he returned to Waterdeep(a place he has called home for a long time), he met Meliora, and mistook her distracted nature for naïveté and innocence. He took it upon himself to look out for her, and considers it part of his atonement for his sins in the military. She thinks he’s neat. She sees a death on his soul that even he’s unaware of, and given her innate pull toward the dead and undead, she’s drawn to that like a moth to the flame.

* Player knowledge vs Character Knowledge, Bal isn’t ACTUALLY a Dragonborn; he’s a half dragon. (This was the DM’s way to explain why Bal has a tail, since we didn’t know Dragonborns didn’t have tails when we started playing this campaign). Balasar’s father(DM rolled for it on a list of notable dragons) is Daurgothoth, The Creeping Death; and Bal escaped him many years ago(losing his wings in the process). The trauma has essentially locked away all of Bal’s memories from before his escape, so he fully believes himself to be a Dragonborn, since that’s what the first traveler he met when he woke up with amnesia assumed he was. Until his memories are recovered, his stats play as though he were a Dragonborn, due to the psychosomatic effects of his belief(Waterdeep’s anti-dragon forcefield does not effect him currently, and he doesn’t have dark vision)

Here he is pictured in not-quite-finished lineart. I’m doing a outfit-concept sheet for him like I did for Mel, but haven’t drawn the other outfits yet. This is his usual gear.

Yevelda Skullcracker: My friend’s half-orc Barbarian. She is my FAVORITE character in our current campaign because...how could she not be. She is VERY stealthy for a Barbarian, and her signature move is to sneak up behind a pair of her enemies and clash their heads together. She’s rolled high everytime she’s done this so it’s always killed. She’s become a legend in Waterdeep for it. NPCs are always ENTIRELY surprised by how nimble and stealthy she is, considering she is a 6’3 wall of muscle. She also has a pet mouse that lives in a small bag of holding sewn into her pocket.

Here she’s depicted in a quick sketch I did of her the other night as a surprise for my friend

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witcherslittledove · 3 years

Text

I Miss You

Joey Batey/Henry Cavill RPF - Also on AO3

Rated: T

Summary: Henry is busy filming in America and Joey really misses his boyfriend.

CW: Alcohol, hangovers

_________

The sunlight was streaming through the window, shining directly onto Joey’s pillow. The brightness pulled him, quite unwillingly from his sleep, and he groaned, rubbing his eyes and scrambling to find his phone in his bedsheets. His head was fucking killing him and his mouth tasted like sandpaper. The way the room spun a little as he looked around suggested he was probably still drunk. Madeleine was snoring next to him, bundled up in a heavy hand knitted jumper, her make-up running down her face in black smudges. He couldn’t remember falling asleep but it wouldn’t have been the first time they’d cuddled up together after too many bottles of wine. It had gotten worse since Henry had flown out to America to finish up some work for Justice League. They’d spent almost two week together at Henry’s house after they were done with the publicity for the Witcher, completely inseparable, enjoying the opportunity to relax in each other’s company. The relationship was still new, and Joey knew they were still in the honeymoon period.

But he really fucking missed his boyfriend.

His boyfriend.

Fuck, that still made him giddy, although perhaps that was still the wine.

He hurriedly unlocked his phone, swiping through the notifications on his twitter without looking at them. Joey paused briefly to check a message from the recording studio, but decided he’d respond later. It was probably still early enough that Henry might still be awake, if he was lucky.

There weren’t any new messages from his boyfriend and he pouted at his phone, running a hand through his hair before falling back onto the pillow. Madeleine grumbled but didn’t stir, snuggling back into the sheets and mumbling as she fell back asleep. With a sigh, Joey stared at his phone, typing out a message and then deleting it.

I miss you.

I want you here with me.

I love you.

It all felt stupid. Needy and pathetic. They hadn’t said ‘I love you’ yet but Joey couldn’t deny how he felt. Falling in love too quickly was an unfortunate trait that he shared with Jaskier, but he’d always lacked the confidence to follow through. Honestly, if he didn’t need to perform both as a musician and as an actor, then he’d probably just hide away from the world, but performing called to him. He was addicted, couldn’t give it up, and oh he’d tried. He’d even tried to study something else at University, but he just couldn’t resist joining the Amateur Dramatics Society.

Well, it had all worked out in the end.

Sort of.

The proposals online could be a bit much, but Henry was helping him handle the sort of being famous thing, and he was getting better. He just needed to be okay when Henry wasn’t there to hold his hand as well. Jesus Christ, he was fucking pathetic.

His phone pinged in Joey’s hands, the vibrations startling him out of his thoughts. “Oh cock!” he cursed as he nearly dropped the damn thing, but he soon managed to unlock it and there it was; a message from Henry.

‘Good morning gorgeous, I miss you x’

Joey’s head was throbbing and his stomach was feeling a little squiffy but fuck, he wanted to cry. Henry was just the most amazing man he’d ever met. He was kind, generous, a huge nerd and ridiculously hot. Most importantly, Henry had possibly the fluffiest dog that Joey had ever seen, and Joey was just soft for fluffy dogs. Animals were easier than people.

Madeleine and Henry seemed to be the exception to this. When Joey had clicked so quickly with Madeleine he’d thought it was a miracle, one that would never be repeated, but then he had met Henry. They’d had such a great time on set, laughing in between takes and struggling to stay in character. The normal anxiety had just never occurred, and then on the last day Henry had stammered and stumbled over his words, asking Joey out on a date.

He’d been convinced it was some cruel joke but it turned out that Henry was really just a big softy, and Joey was completely head over heels. Madeleine thought it was adorable and teased him endlessly, which would have been fine if he wasn’t so bloody needy.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, thinking about how he could possibly express what he wanted to say over text. “Fuck,” he grumbled and hit the call button.

Joey hopped out of the bed, swiping his dressing gown from the floor and shuffled out into the lounge before he woke Madeleine.

“Joey,” Henry said in a low voice, a soft gruff growl in Joey’s ear. Immediately, he felt the tension leave his shoulders and he sunk into the warm embrace of his boyfriend’s voice.

“I love you,” he breathed, not thinking about it until there was a deafening silence on the other end of the line. “Oh shit, fucking, cock balls! I am so sorry. I didn’t.. I shouldn’t, cock!”

When Henry spoke again his voice was barely above a whisper. “You love me?”

“Ah, umm… yes? Rather hopelessly,” he admitted. “Sorry?”

“No,” Henry choked out, half laughing which really wasn’t helping Joey’s anxiety. “no. You don’t have to apologise. I love you too, Joey. I’ve been beating myself up over it.”

“What?” Joey whined, suddenly wishing he could just go back to sleep off his hangover. He did not have enough brain power for this conversation.

“I thought,” Henry paused and Joey heard a long heavy sigh. “I thought it was too soon.”

Relief washed over him and, despite feeling a little like death warmed up, he joined in the laughter. Soon both of them were giggling like bloody teenagers. Henry loved him. Henry fucking Cavill, heart throb of the world, Superman, Geralt of bloody Rivia, loved him. Joey Batey, a nobody.

It seemed ridiculous, completely ludicrous, but this was his life now. He had a dream role in a successful television show, he had fans, his second album was due out soon and his first album had had a second wind with the release of the witcher. On top of that, he still had his very best friend, and a brand new boyfriend. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was bound to break soon, but he was getting better at ignoring that little voice.

“I love you,” he repeated, hugging one of the couch cushions. It wasn’t Henry but it was as close as he could get right now. Fuck, he really wanted to just curl up into his boyfriend’s side, maybe kiss him silly.

He’d never hated Superman more.

“I know Geralt really hates portals, but I really wish we had one,” Henry sighed.

Joey scoffed, rubbing his eyes. Now that he was in the darkness of the lounge, he was starting to feel tired again, and he really needed to sleep off the rest of his hangover. “You’re such a nerd,” he teased.

“Says the man who writes his own Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.”

Joey gasped “Hey now, you love my D&D campaigns.”

“I love you more.”

Joey grinned, snuggling further into his pillow, wondering whether he was in fact dreaming the whole thing. “I love you too, darling.”

Henry chuckled. “Go back to sleep Joey, love. I’ll talk to you when I wake up?”

“You have work,” he whined.

“I can make time for you,” Henry reassured him. “Sleep now, love.”

Joey yawned in spite of himself, he wanted to stay awake, but Henry was right, he was fucking exhausted. He hadn’t even checked the time but he never slept late after a night drinking. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But I love you.”

His boyfriend laughed. “We’ll be together again soon, only another couple of weeks.”

“I just want a hug,” Joey slurred. “Can’t sleep properly on my own anymore.”

“I’ll never let you go.”

Joey hummed, letting Henry’s voice wash over him, lulling him back to sleep right there in the arm chair. “Sounds good.”

He was asleep before he could hang up, just holding his phone close to his chest.

#the witcher rpf #joey batey/henry cavill #joey/henry #rpf

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onetwosevensquad · 4 years

Text

Dungeons and Dragons and... Love?: Dungeon Master

Mark Lee x Reader

Summary: the kind Dungeon Master who helps guide your team through your campaign also becomes your math tutor.

Warnings: none??

Rose: sorry this literally took forever to write. Hope your all still interested in this mini series. Next member is Renjun.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

———

Why were you here again?

Oh right, cause you’re a giant nerd who needs an outlet.

The poster had caught your eye when you were headed to lunch one day. It was a beige poster with a 20 sided dice in the middle. That was what got your attention.

You had played Dungeons and Dragons with some of your friends before. It has been a few months since your last campaign and you didn’t know when the next one would start. So, in fear of not being able to escape to a fantasy world, you decided to check it out.

It was now 3:45 in the afternoon. School had ended 15 minutes ago, the hours ticking by slowly. You now stood outside of the AP Government classroom where Mr. Jung taught.

The poster, you remembered, said that Mr. Jung would oversee the club. He was your favorite teacher because he was funny and the class was enjoyable.

Finally, you slowly opened the door to the classroom and stepped in. In the middle of the room, a few desks had been pushed together to create a large table.

Sitting around the table were seven boys who were all staring at you. You awkwardly shifted your weight from one foot to the other, waiting for literally anyone to say something.

“Is this the d&d club?” You finally spoke.

“Y-yes,” the only boy who was standing said. You recognized him as Mark Lee. The cute, smart boy from calculus. “Yes, uh, grab a seat.”

You nodded and dragged a chair over to the only empty spot at the table. It was right next to Chenle, the loud basketball player you shared chemistry with.

“Well I’m pretty sure that we all know each other,” Mark said clearing his throat. “I’m not gonna make us do ice breakers cause literally no one likes those.”

“I do!” Haechan, the class clown that you also shared chemistry with.

“Only you,” Jeno, the star basketball player and probably the last person you expected here, commented. Haechan pouted and stuck his tongue out at Jeno.

“Anyway,” Mark said. “It’s my fist time DMing, but I have played before. Just so I know, who here has played before?”

You, along with Jisung, the quiet kid from history, Haechan, and Renjun, the kid from math who doesn’t do math but draws, raised your hands. Mark seemed to relax a bit when he saw there were at least a few experienced players.

“Well I guess this first meeting will be going over rules and how to play, then next time we’ll do character sheets,” Mark said.

———

It was now the third session and the first one of the start of you campaign. Last time, everyone made their characters, the atmosphere becoming less tense as time went on.

You made your character an Elf Wizard, something you’ve never played before. Everyone else had their own unique character combos, having fun coming up with the most ridiculous names for them.

Today, the party was slightly buzzing with excitement to finally start their campaign. You all gathered around the table giving character introductions, ready to get this show on the road.

Three hours, several rolls for initiative, and Haechan’s character almost dying later, Mr. Jung had to finally kick you all out of the building. The sun had already set and he was letting you way past what was allowed.

You realized how late it actually was and scrambled to get your stuff. You said a quick goodbye to the boys and Mr. Jung and sped off to get home before your parents killed you.

You get a ways down the hall when you heard someone running behind you.

“Y/n, wait up!” You turned to see Mark jogging to catch up with you. He stopped in front of you, breathing slightly harder. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you said back, smiling at the cute boy. You’ve never really had a full conversation with Mark. He’s quiet and, honestly, talking to someone attractive was a bit out of the realm of your comfort zone.

“C-can I have your number?” He said. Your eyes went wide and as did his when he realized what that sounded like. “So that I can add you to the group chat! Just in case anyone can’t make it or we cancel.”

“Yea, sure,” you said, slightly disappointed. You heard Mark exhale probably in relief that his save worked. You handed him your phone with your number displayed on the screen and he quickly put it in his.

“Thanks,” Mark said, handing you back your phone. You both stood there in the most suffocatingly awkward silence ever.

“Well bye,” you said turning to leave.

“Oh! Yea, uh, bye,” Mark said waving slightly. He turned back towards Mr. Jung’s room and you saw the other six boys crowded around. They were all giggling as Mark shoved that back into the room.

———

Six sessions and three weeks later, any morsel of awkwardness was gone. It was like you have known these seven boys your whole life.

The group chat blew up your phone with memes from that days session but didn’t you mind? No. Though sometimes at ungodly hours in the mornings, you still enjoyed the content.

On this particular day, you weren’t going to be able to join the session. Your calculus teacher was making you stay after school and retake a test that you failed miserably. You felt bad when you hand to text the group.

You: I can’t make it today

Haechan☀️: whyyyyyyy

You: I failed a calc test

You: I have to retake it

Lele🐬: thats stupid

Sungie: good luck Y/n

Injunie: yea gl

You: thanks boys

Marker: hey if you need any help studying for calc, I’d be happy to

jeNO: oh?

You: yea I’d like that, thanks

Minnie: ann I oop-

You laughed at Jaemin’s comment as you made your way to your calculus teachers classroom.

———

Considering the second time you took the test you barely past by the seat of your pants, you took Mark up on his offer to tutor you.

Today was the first day Mark was going to tutor you in the library. You walked in and saw him already set up at one of the tables in the very back.

“Hey,” you whispered. He smiled at you as you sat down next to him.

“Hey,” he said back. “Ready to get started?”

After about an hour and a half of Mark explaining different theorems to you, you were finally starting to get it. Whenever you asked a question, Mark would take the time to explain it to you carefully, making sure you got it along the way.

When he would give you a problem to solve, and you got it right, both of you would get excited, annoying the librarian. She ended up shushing you more than once.

“Hey, you hungry?” Mark asked.

“Not really,” you said. As if on cue, your stomach slightly growled, making Mark laugh. You looked down at your stomach, a pout on your face. “Traitor.”

“Come on,” Mark said between giggles. “Let’s get something to eat.”

You got your things and headed out of the library with Mark to get food.

———

For the next three weeks, this became your tradition. On the days the D&D club wasn’t meeting, you and Mark would study calculus in the library for about two hours, and then go get food. It always felt like a lot less time with Mark, him always making it enjoyable.

Today, you had a study session with Mark. As you neared the library, you noticed him standing outside the doors on his phone.

“Hey, what are you doing?” You asked. “I have a test tomorrow.”

“I know,” Mark said putting his phone away. “But you need a break.”

“Mark-“ you whined.

“No,” he said. “I think that you’re ready. You’ve made a lot of progress over the last couple weeks. Besides, they say you shouldn’t study the night before a test.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” you said crossing your arms.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Mark said waving it off. “But, I do know that you’ve worked hard and whatever grade you get, I’m proud of you.”

You could feel your cheeks heating up at Mark’s words. You bit back a smile as he continued.

“So tonight we are not studying,” Mark said grabbing your hand and leading you away from the library. “We are going to the basketball game with the others to cheer on Chenle and Jeno.”

You didn’t protest as Mark led you down to the packed gym and over to where the rest of the boys were sat, waiting for the game to start.

———

After the game where your boys won, the party went out for dinner. Afterwards, Mark drove you home, the two of you talking about the game, D&D, or literally anything.

When Mark pulled into your driveway, he insisted on walking you to your steps. He said it was the gentlemanly thing to do.

“Hey,” Mark said when you got to your front door. “Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“Tell me how it goes, ok?” He said. You nodded giving him a smile that he returned. “Good night.”

“Night,” you called after him as he went to his car.

———

At the end of the day, your calculus teacher had finished grading the tests. She told everyone to come pick them up before they left school.

When she handed your test to you, she had a big smile on her face. She made a comment about how nicely you did and how much you improved. When you finally saw the grade, you nearly passed out.

You practically ran to Mr. Jung’s room. D&D was today and you wanted to show Mark you grade. You arrived at his classroom, bouncing into the room.

“Well someone looks happy,” Jaemin commented.

“Did something mean happen?” Jisung asked. You stuck your tongue out at the younger boy making everyone laugh.

You made you way to Mark at the head of the table, him watching you with a smile. When you reached him, you slapped the paper with a big 90% scribbled at the top down in front of him.

“All thanks to you,” you said as he continued to stare at the paper.

“I told you so,” Mark said standing up. He caught you by surprise when he gave you a hug. “I’m proud of you.”

“Ugh, just date already,” Haechan commented from his chair. You and Mark pulled apart making a face at the boy, but avoiding each other’s eyes.

It’s not that you were entirely opposed to dating Mark. You just didn’t know if he felt the same way. And he didn’t. Right?

———

You and Mark continued your study sessions even after you proved you didn’t need to. You both agreed that it was to benefit both of you and not just an excuse to hang out.

One day, while walking out of calculus with Renjun, the boy made a comment that rocked your world.

“He likes you, ya know,” Renjun said.

“W-what,” you sputtered turning to him.

“Mark, he likes you,” He clarified. “I know like bro code, I’m not supposed to tell you or whatever, but I see the way you two look at each other. We all do. You should ask him out. He’d say yes.”

You stopped dead in your tracks thinking for a second. On one hand, this plan that you were formulating could embarrass you. On the other, you could get a date with your dungeon master / calculus tutor / crush.

“Y/n?” Renjun said turning to you. You quickly turned on your heel and made a mad dash for Mark’s locker. “Y/n!”

———

As you speed walked to Mark, you saw him in the distance talking to Jeno and Jaemin. Mark spotted you coming to him and waved at you.

“Hey, Y/n what’s-“

“Do you want to go an a date with me?” You said quickly.

“W-what?” Mark said.

“Jeno, I think that’s our cue,” Jaemin said dragging Jeno away.

“Do you want to go in a date with me?” You asked again, slower this time. Mark looked at you wide eyed, like a dear in headlights.

“A-a date?” He asked. You nodded, not trusting your voice not to shake. “Wow.”

“Wow?” You asked.

“Sorry! Sorry, I just never thought you’d ask and I’d have to do it,” Mark said. “But yes, I’d love to go on a date.”

“Oh thank god,” you said leaning against the lockers. Mark laughed at your dramatic reaction. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and turned you around to walk to lunch. As you turned, you and Mark stopped and saw the six other members of your party standing there amused.

“God, finally,” Haechan said.

“Took you long enough,” Chenle said.

As the eight of you walked to lunch, the boys continued to tease you and Mark. But when you looked up at him with his arm still around your shoulder, the teasing didn’t matter when Mark smiled at you.

———

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fanficoutlet · 4 years

Text

The Friend

Ian Lightfoot x Male!Reader

Fandom: Onward

Genre: Fluff

Description: Barley brings the reader over to his house to play Quests of Yore, where he finally meets his brother Ian.

Warning: Ian being all flustered and cute, reader is also an elf, pretty fast developed feelings, dumb pickup lines, forehead kisses 🥺

Words: 1,822

Y/N had never been over to Barley Lightfoot’s house. They’ve been best friends for years, and yet he had never set foot inside.

Until today.

“Welcome to my humble abode, dear friend!” Barley clasped his hand onto Y/N’s shoulder and shook him.

The other elf laughed and wrapped his arm around Barley’s neck, “Thank you, kind sir! Would you escort me inside like the good host you are?” He gestured to the small yet cozy looking home. Barley nodded enthusiastically and practically kicked open the door. The two of them laughed rather loudly as they entered the house. The noise immediately attracted Blazey, who Y/N had seen pictures of in Barley’s phone. The dragon sped up to them in a hurry, tackling Barley to the ground before licking his face like she hadn’t seen him in ages. Barley cackled and gently pushed her off of him. Then the dragon’s attention was turned to Y/N. She lit up like a lightbulb at the sight of someone new, jumping up and into Y/N’s arms. The elf was startled, but immediately took a liking to the pet. He scratched under her chin, “Oh you are just the sweetest!”

“Blazey!” A woman’s voice sounded from down the hall. She ran up with a squirt bottle and squeezed the plastic trigger, shooting water at her, “Get down, we do not jump on people!” Blazey blew a tiny flicker of fire before scurrying off to her lair. The woman from before adjusted her glasses with a smile and raised her hand out, “I am so sorry about that. She’s just easily excited. I’m Laurel, Barley’s mom.” Y/N took her hand and shook it.

“It’s really no problem! I’m Y/N. It’s so great to finally meet you.”

“Right back at you,” Laurel grinned, “Barley’s talked about you and your campaigns quite a lot. We were wondering when you would finally show up.”

Y/N shrugged and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, “My mother… She can be a little controlling. My sister and I aren’t normally allowed over other’s houses.”

Laurel cocked an eyebrow, “So what changed for today?”

“Well I’m eighteen,” Y/N started, “She can’t really tell me what I can and can’t do now.” Laurel nodded her head in understanding.

“I see… Well! We’re happy to have you here.” She set a hand onto Y/N’s shoulder before yelling, “IAN!” Her sudden shout made both Y/N and Barley jump. She didn’t sound mean or angry, she was just trying to get his attention.

“Yeah?” A timid voice yelled back, muffled by the distance between him and everyone else.

“WE HAVE A GUEST!”

“I’ll be there in a minute!”

“Hurry up, brother of mine!” Barley declared. He grabbed a fake sword out of the cane holder near the door and held it triumphantly in the air, “We have quests to begin and people to save!” He then ran to the dining room and began setting up the game. Y/N chuckled to himself and waited by the front door. He didn’t really know what to do with himself. Laurel had already walked away, probably to the living room or her bedroom, and Y/N hadn’t really been to another friend’s house before. He was about to take out his phone when he heard a creak from the top of the stairs. His head shot up and saw a lanky elf walking down. The boy didn’t seem to notice the company as he struggled to fix the flannel he was wearing. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, fighting with one of the buttons on the shirt.

“Hi there.” Y/N said, making the boy jump.

“H-Hey!” His cheeks flushed when he saw Y/N leaning against the front door, “You must be the friend that Barley’s been talking about!” Y/N smiled at how easily flustered he got, “I-I’m Ian, by the way.”

“I’m Y/N. AKA, the friend. It’s nice to meet you, Ian.”

“Yeah, you too!” Ian rocked back and forth on his feet, “So how come I’ve never seen you before?”

Y/N rubbed the back of his neck, “Strict mom. But I’m eighteen now! So that’s why I’m finally here.” Ian nodded. The two of them sat in silence for what seemed like hours. It didn’t feel awkward, at least not to Y/N. Ian on the other hand, felt like the entire weight of the conversation rested on his shoulders. He felt an obligation to keep it going, like he wanted to keep talking, but he didn’t know how or why.

Barley peeked in from the dining room, “Y/N, the game’s almost set up!”

“Alright. Now we just gotta wait for the others to show up, right?” Barley nodded and went back to finish setting up.

Y/N glanced over at Ian to see him fidgeting, “Hey, Ian. You play?” He gestured to the dining room. Ian shook his head.

“No, no, I don’t.”

“Have you ever played?”

“No?”

“Well, if you wanna join this campaign, we could use another party member.” Ian didn’t respond, just looked away from him, still fidgeting. Y/N frowned, “I’m sure everyone would love to have you.” He said, before leaving to join Barley.

•

Later that night, the campaign was in full swing. Y/N was the Quest Master, of course, guiding the travelers through epic quests and dangerous obstacles. Ian could hear everything from his room. He didn’t think he would ever want to play the dumb game, but something about tonight made him want to go downstairs and join the party. Even if it was just for one night. Suddenly, he thought about Barley’s friend, Y/N. He felt his cheeks heat up and he groaned.

“What is wrong with me?” He barely even knew the guy, and yet he had him as flustered as a school girl looking at her crush. A loud groan from downstairs shook him out of his thoughts.

“Oh my god, we need a wizard,” Ian heard one of Barley’s friends say, “if we try to fight even one more monster, we’re done for.”

“You can say that again!” Barley shouted. Ian groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He was going to regret this.

“I-I wanna join the party,” Ian said. He found himself standing in the doorway to the dining room. Barley’s mouth dropped in absolute shock.

“You’re kidding,” he said.

Ian shook his head, “No, I wanna join.”

Y/N’s face lit up, “That's great! Do you have a character?” Ian’s cheeks flushed once again and he nodded.

“Y-Yeah! I wanna be a… A wizard?”

“Perfect,” Y/N smiled and gave him a character sheet along with a pencil. He gestured to the seat next to him, “Take a seat! The real quest is just about to begin.”

That night was one Ian was never going to forget. His first time playing Quests of Yore was better than he ever thought it would be. Y/N seemed to be a great Quest Master, and the rest of the party was happy to take him in. Ian had never felt so accepted into a group before, and he was so happy that Y/N was the most accepting out of all of them, save for his brother.

Time flew by as if it was nothing. It got late, and everyone had to leave. Y/N was the last one to go, as he was helping the brothers clean up.

“This was possibly one of the best campaigns yet,” he said, glancing up at Ian.

Ian gave him a shy smile, then looked down to the character figurines he was picking up, “Yeah. That was fun.” When they finished picking up all the pieces and parts, they realized that Barley was nowhere to be seen.

“Did you see where Barley went?” Y/N asked, Ian shook his head.

“No…”

The two of them leaned onto the dining room table next to one another, in a period of silence similar to the one they had earlier. Ian felt the familiar heaviness of needing to continue the conversation.

“Say something, say anything!”

“You’re really cool, Y/N.”

“No! No, not that!”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, “Really? You think so?” Ian felt a drop of sweat trickle down the side of his head as he tried to avoid looking at Y/N. He definitely just weirded him out.

“Yeah, I do,” Ian nodded and let out a nervous laugh, “You put on a really awesome campaign, and I had a lot of fun.” When he looked up, he noticed that Y/N had inched closer to him, their faces were only inches away from one another’s.

“I’m really glad to hear that,” Y/N gave him a soft smile and slid his hand over Ian’s. Maybe he hadn’t ruined everything. Ian’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink than they were before, making Y/N chuckle to himself, “Maybe we could hang out sometime, without the guys? Would you be down?”

Ian grinned, “Yeah! I mean— Yeah, I’d totally be down…” he tried to play it cool, but failed rather miserably. Y/N laughed, his hand lightly squeezing Ian’s.

“Awesome.”

Barley suddenly barged into the doorway, forcing the two of them to pull away from each other, “Till next time, my friend!” He pat Y/N on the back, “I bid you adieu…”

“I-I’ll walk you out!” Ian stuttered and sped to the front door.

“Such a gentleman, Ian! That’s my boy!” Barley shouted. Him and Y/N said their goodbyes before Y/N walked out the front door. He turned to Ian, taking his hand in his own and putting on his best proper accent he could.

“Till we meet again, sweet prince.” The sentence alone could’ve made Ian laugh, but the effort Y/N put in just to say it made him snort. It was probably the most embarrassing line he had ever heard.

The elf clutched his stomach, his laughter making it almost impossible for him to say anything, “Y-You did not just say that!”

“But I did!” Y/N kept up the accent. He used his free hand to move Ian’s curly hair away from his forehead, leaned in, and placed a small kiss upon it. Ian’s laughter ceased immediately, blush creeping onto his cheeks instead. A chuckle erupted from Y/N’s throat, “Goodnight, Ian.” Before he could say a word, Y/N had let go of his hand and walked away. The moment before he got into his car, Y/N waved goodbye. Ian couldn’t stop himself from waving back with an obvious glee. He didn’t know what it was, but something about that boy made him absolutely thrilled for the next time they met. He sighed and leaned against the front door, watching as Y/N drove off.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

#onward #onward x male reader #ian lightfoot #ian lightfoot x male reader #x male reader #male reader #barley lightfoot #laurel lightfoot #quests of yore #ian onward #barley onward #laurel onward #blazey #blazey onward

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