#sage's portfolio

[sagemonsters]

The Drider & the Shepherd's Daughter

Summary: a fairy tale where Malina, the shepherd's daughter, is tasked with begging a drider for silk for her sisters' dresses... and finds herself desiring more than just the silk.

Status: SFW

Pairing: cis female human x cis female drider

Word Count: 2,579

*

Long ago and far away, there was a shepherd who lived in the mountains with his flock, his dog, his wife, and his three daughters. His name is not important. His dog’s name is not important. His wife’s name is not important either, but his daughters’ names are. The oldest was Claudia, who was fair of face and had eyes more blue than the dreams of sapphires. The middle girl was Isolda, who was fair of face and had eyes more blue than a clear midsummer sky. And the last and least was Malina, who had a face you wouldn’t look twice at and eyes like fog, and who had killed her mother.

The shepherd and the two elder daughters often reminded Malina of this, because they had watched Malina’s mother die of childbed fever barely a week after Malina had been brought into this world.

She grew into a child of average build, weight, appetite, and sensibilities. She wore her sisters’ hand-me-downs and played with the wooden toys that they outgrew. She learned to hold her tongue rather than talk out of turn, and to observe others carefully. She watched the patterns of birds in the air and sheep on the ground, and feared the howling of the winter wolves. She dreamed the dreams of children everywhere who feel that they are neither wholly understood nor wholly loved; dreams of being spirited away to someplace where her real father and sisters welcomed her, a place where her hand-me-down socks didn’t have holes and her father called her by her name rather than “girl” or “you.” She was, in short, neither monstrous nor mad, and although underloved she was never outright rejected by her family as she changed from a child to a woman.

The local lord had three sons, all spirited young men who were fair of face and had eyes as blue as the faraway ocean. Sometimes they rode through the village on market days and gave flowers to the peasant girls in exchange for kisses.

The eldest of the three young men saw Claudia. He offered her a bundle of bright yellow jonquils, and Claudia kissed him. She twined the flowers into a crown to rest upon her golden hair, and told the boy that she would look much better with a crown of metal and a bridal veil. The eldest of the lord’s sons was already captivated by Claudia’s beauty, but knew well that peasant girls didn’t marry into nobility. Nevertheless, he could not deny her.

“Weave and sew your wedding dress, and come to me again,” the eldest son said. “If it is as beautiful as you are, I will marry you.”

So Claudia returned to the shepherd’s home, and carded and wove the bales of soft white lamb’s wool into cloth, and then cut and sewed the cloth into a dress. But she had no pearls or jewels, and she knew that a peasant’s woolen gown could never rival a satin gown made by a master tailor in one of the southern cities, so she called for Malina.

“Girl,” she said. “Go into the mountains and fetch me a bolt of cloth woven from spider silk.”

“Sister, I can’t,” Malina protested. “The drider will eat me from my toes to my head. It’s too dangerous.”

“You killed our mother,” Claudia reminded her. “Fetch the silk so you can atone for her murder.”

Malina hung her head in shame, then packed a basket with bread and cheese and salted mutton, pulled on her hat and shawl, and set out. She climbed the mountain trails, which grew narrower and steeper and stonier with every step she took, until she found a canyon crowded with massive spider webs. Antlers protruded from an equally massive storage cocoon beside the entrance.

Malina waited outside the canyon. Only the wind stirred the webbing, and dusk began to fall as the sun set behind the peaks. A chill descended over the mountains, and Malina pulled her shawl closer about her shoulders.

There was a chittering noise, followed by the sound of too many legs thudding against the ground. “Are you lost, my dearest?” asked the drider who loomed out of the deepening darkness. She had the torso of an elf and the lower half of a spider the size of a pony, with a multitude of glowing red eyes filling her gray face.

“I’m not lost, Mistress,” Malina said. “I came here looking for you.”

The drider paused, then asked: “What is your name, my dearest?”

Nobody had ever asked Malina her name before. She told the drider.

“Dearest Malina, what do you seek?” the drider asked next.

“My sister needs a bolt of spider silk cloth for her wedding dress,” Malina said.

“And what do you offer in exchange for a bolt of my cloth?” asked the drider.

Malina offered her the basket.

“Dearest Malina, I eat my meat raw and wriggling, and I take neither bread nor cheese,” the drider said. “Offer me something else.”

Malina offered her the promise of a lamb from her father’s flock.

“Dearest Malina, a single spring lamb, no matter how tender, is not enough for a bolt of my cloth. Offer me something else.”

“I have nothing else,” Malina admitted. “Unless you desire my life.”

“I do not desire your life,” the drider said. “Will you give me a kiss for a bolt of silken cloth?”

“I will give anything to make my sister happy.”

“Be careful what you say, dearest Malina,” the drider whispered, and approached on her many legs. Malina’s own legs wanted to tremble, but she held her ground. The drider cupped Malina’s face gently with her gray hands, and Malina’s eyes fluttered closed. The human didn’t know if her heart thundered in fear or anticipation, but she could have sworn that it stopped at the soft press of the drider’s lips against her own a moment later. When Malina opened her eyes, the drider presented her with a bolt of silken cloth that shimmered under the moonlight.

“Here is your cloth,” the drider said.

“Thank you,” Malina said. Her lips tingled. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Arachne,” the drider informed her, and sent Malina home down the mountain trails.

Malina arrived before dawn. Her father hadn’t noticed her absence, but Claudia was happy to receive the silk. She cut and sewed it into a dress, and this she showed to the eldest of the lord’s sons. Even with no pearls or jewels, the dress was so beautiful that the young man had no choice but to marry her. Claudia left the shepherd’s home to live in the lord’s castle. 

Malina dreamed of Arachne’s lips and hands upon her, and felt a pang of hitherto-unknown desire in the morning when she awoke alone in her bed.

Another market day, the second-eldest of the lord’s sons saw Isolda in the village, and offered her a bundle of bright crimson roses in exchange for a kiss. Isolda accepted, and twined the roses into a crown to rest upon her coppery red hair. She told the lord’s son how fine she would look with a crown of metal and a bridal veil, and this second son, thinking of his brother’s fortune in finding a beautiful wife, posed the same challenge as his elder sibling had done.

Isolda returned home. She did not bother sewing a dress of lamb’s wool, and instead summoned her sister.

“Girl,” she said. “Go into the mountains and fetch me a bolt of cloth woven from spider silk.”

“Sister, I can’t,” Malina protested. “The drider will not let me impose on her generosity a second time, and I fear…” She didn’t know what she truly feared, however, and could not continue.

“You killed our mother,” Isolda said, not noticing her younger sister’s hesitance. “Claudia may have forgiven you, but I haven’t. Fetch me the silk so you can atone for her murder.”

Malina lowered her eyes to the floor in what might have been shame—but her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The young woman packed her basket a second time, and donned her hat and shawl. This time, however, she took her mother’s wedding band and slipped it into her pocket before heading out the door. Once again, Malina climbed the mountain trails that grew narrower and steeper and stonier with every step she took, until she found the canyon. She waited, and dusk cloaked the mountains in darkness. Arachne emerged from among the webs.

“Dearest Malina, what brings you here?” the drider asked.

“My other sister needs a bolt of spider silk cloth for her wedding dress,” Malina admitted, “and I will do anything to make her happy.”

“Be careful of what you say,” Arachne warned. “What will you offer me in exchange for a bolt of my cloth?”

“Will you take my mother’s ring?” Malina asked, and fished the silver band out of her pocket. She held it out, and Arachne approached to inspect it. Malina’s heart once again began to hammer in her chest as she looked at the drider’s lips.

“I place no value in metal,” the drider said eventually. “Offer me something else.”

“Will you take another kiss?” Malina said. And then she surprised herself with: “I would be happy to give it to you.”

After a moment, the drider smiled. “I will take your kiss, but I will ask this of you as well: will you wear my favor, dearest Malina? Will you wear it always and visit me at least once a moon for a year? If this is acceptable, I will give you the cloth.”

“It is very acceptable,” Malina said, and leaned into the drider’s touch. Their lips met for a second time, and this time Malina knew that the thrill in her heart was something very different from fear. When they finally pulled apart, Arachne gave her the bolt of silk. The drider also gave her a shimmering length of ribbon, and tied it gently around her right wrist. Her hands were warm and soft as they brushed against Malina’s.

Malina returned home with the bolt of cloth before dawn. Her father had not noticed her absence, but Isolda was happy to receive the silk. She cut and sewed it into a dress, and this she showed to the second of the lord’s sons, and was married to him shortly thereafter. Isolda left the shepherd’s home to live in the lord’s castle, and Malina kept her promise to visit Arachne once a moon.

Finally, the youngest of the lord’s sons came to Malina in the village on market day. He offered her a fistful of daisies plucked from the roadside in exchange for a kiss. Malina blushed and accepted, but the kiss felt awkward and forced. Malina pulled away.

“Do you want to marry me?” the youngest son asked.

Malina hesitated, then shook her head.

The lord’s son didn’t seem to recognize this. He continued: “Your sisters’ wedding gowns were amazing dowries. They said that you gathered the silk from a man-eating drider in the mountains. Fetch me three bolts of this silk, and I won’t ask you to make a dress out of it.”

“Sir,” Malina protested. “I cannot marry you.”

“Yes,” the youngest son agreed, “you aren’t beautiful enough. However, you will fetch me the bolts of spider silk. I command this of you, as the son of your lord.”

“But I can’t,” Malina protested. “I can’t impose on Arachne’s generosity a third time, and ask for three bolts of cloth rather than one. It is too much.”

“Arachne?” the lord’s son asked. “It has a name?”

Malina froze into stillness. 

The lord’s son looked at the shimmering ribbon still tied around Malina’s wrist. “What’s this?” he asked, and reached out to examine her.

Malina pulled away again. “It’s nothing, sir,” she said. “I made it from a scrap of leftover fabric from my sister’s dress.”

“You’re lying!” the lord’s son declared. His eyes narrowed. “You’re in league with the drider! Did you enchant your sisters’ dresses so that my brothers would be made stupid with infatuation? They’re married to worthless peasant girls now! I’m no fool, though; I can tell you’re a witch. Guards! Guards!”

Malina fled the village as fast as she could, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She knew her father would offer her no shelter from the lord’s son, the village church no sanctuary, and so her feet took her along the mountain trails that grew narrower and steeper and stonier with her every leaping step. She did not wait at the canyon mouth as she heard the baying of the lord’s hounds, but slipped into the maze of sticky webbing. She slowed as she navigated between them, and struggled not to fall into the silken traps.

Arachne descended along the canyon wall on a silken line from the spinnerette of her spider abdomen. She looked down at Malina with her many red eyes, and listened to Malina’s panting breaths and the growing cacophony of the hounds and guards.

“Dearest Malina, why do you weep?” the drider asked in her soft voice.

“Arachne, Arachne, the lord’s youngest son called me a witch and said I used magic to enchant his brothers,” Malina said. “I think they want to kill me.”

“Dearest Malina, do you wish them to live?” Arachne asked. Her many eyes glowed bright as bloodied garnets.

“Yes,” Malina said.

“Dearest Malina, do you truly wish it so? Do you truly wish it after their cruelty to you?”

Malina hesitated, and the baying of the hounds and the shouting of the guards drew nearer. They had almost reached the canyon. 

“I wish it so,” Malina whispered.

“Then so it shall be,” the drider said, and spun more webs so that neither human nor hound could enter the canyon without Arachne’s assistance. The guards’ swords tangled and caught in the sticky webbing without cutting it, and the dogs refused to come near. After a time, the pursuers gave up and went away, their voices fading down the mountainside.

And now Malina was alone with Arachne. She could not return to her father’s home, or to the village, and she could not call upon her sisters at the lord’s castle. She was, for the first time, without a family, and her tears stung her eyes more fiercely than ever.

“Dearest Malina, what brings you such sorrow?” Arachne asked, and pulled Malina into her strong gray arms. Malina leaned against her.

“I am lost,” Malina said when she had mastered herself somewhat. “I have nothing. I have nobody.”

“Dearest Malina, you have me,” Arachne said. “We can travel far from these mountains, and make a home where none can harm or hate us. We will be safe. We will be happy. I promise you this with the breath in my lungs and the beating of my heart.”

Malina turned in the drider’s arms to look into her face. “Dearest Arachne, how can I thank you?”

“Will you wear my favor always?” Arachne asked.

“Yes, and I already do,” Malina answered.

“Will you kiss me?”

“Yes, and I already have.”

“Will you marry me, dearest Malina? Will you call me your wife and cherish me until the end of our days?” Arachne asked.

“Yes, and I always will,” Malina answered. She reached for the drider and kissed her a third time then, slowly and softly, feeling wholly loved and wholly understood.

*

You can also read this story in the April 2023 edition of the M❤️NSTER magazine, or download a nicely laid out PDF from my own itch.io page (both downloads are free, but please consider tipping where possible).

If you enjoy my writing, please consider buying me a coffee so I can have a warm drink while I write!

#monster romance #monster girlfriend #monster lover #terato #drider #monster x human #sage's portfolio #creative writing #original fiction #fantasy fiction #fairy tale vibes #original characters #queer fiction #wlw fiction #lgbt fiction #sapphic fiction

[missis-maple394]

+SAGE

DO NOT REPOST/EDIT/TRACE my art from other sites.

Author’s comment:

"This is what I’ll say regarding the fact" "That you were born into this world:" "Are all that sacrifice and regret." | Yuyoyuppe - + | Lyrics Translation |

A mysterious girl with cyber features, lived in far away in lone island called Starfall Islands. Something that she tells you to leave the island or face the consequences. I wanted to finish this for final batch of this year's 2022 fan artworks, so I did it! It's quite hard to pull off when her entire theme is Cyber-Box particles and my brush-strokes styles.

I hope you liked it, It was fun to experiment a lot during burnout process so I'm happier to go back drawing during hiatus since few days ago! I hope everyone's having a great day playing this game so far, all best of luck out there!

Author’s note:

Do not start a roleplay using direct messages/comments & replies with my artworks.

Do not tag and marked as a kin/me/morally questionable content etc.

DO NOT claim my artworks belong to you, and removing / cropping my watermarks away.

DO NOT sell my art for monetary profit.

Please DM me for inquiries such as commissioned work or reporting my artwork has been reposted or edited.

Desktop: | Commission/Support Link | My FAQ/Links | Archives |

Mobile: | Commission Sheet | My FAQs |

#missmapleart #msm2022 #my art #myart #MSM-ARTPORTFOLIO #ART-PORTFOLIO #digital art #digital drawing #fanart #fan art #fanartwork #fan artwork #sage #sage sonic frontiers #sonic frontiers #sth #sonic the hedgehog

[thorsenmark]

A Dreamscapes of Snow and a Fairyland Delight (Joshua Tree National Park) by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: A setting looking to the northwest while taking in views across a snow-covered, desert landscape present one afternoon in Joshua Tree National Park. This was at a roadside pulloff along the main park road. My thought on composing this image was to angle my Nikon SLR camera slightly downward and create a sweeping view across the snowy landscape leading up to more distant Joshua Trees. In my mind, the whiteness with the snow, covered sage brush and creosote bushes helped to draw the viewer into the image. The eyes would then be drawn to the Joshua Trees after the open area, and then have the more distant ridges and peaks with mostly cloudy skies as a backdrop.

#Azimuth 312 #Central and Southern California Ranges #Creosote Bush #Day 2 #Desert Landscape #Desert Mountain Landscape #Desert Plant Life #DxO PhotoLab 6 Edited #Joshua Tree #Joshua Tree National Park and California #Joshua Tree Ranges #Landscape #Landscape - Scenery #Little San Bernardino Mountains #Looking NW #Mojave Desert #Nature #Nikon D850 #No People #Outside #Pacific Ranges #Peninsular Southern California Ranges #Portfolio #Project365 #Roadside Pulloff #Rock Formations #Sage brush #Scenics - Nature #SnapBridge #Snow

[garou-art]

🌱  Plant Friend hard enamel pin! 🌱 

Everything that could go wrong did go wrong but I somehow succeeded in making my first ever enamel pin - and who better than Plant Friend itself~

#Plant Friend #enamel pin #merch #oc #sage #portfolio

[ex-vespidae]

ITS DONE ITS FUCKING DONE!!!!!!!!!!!

#sage speaks #NO MORE PERSONAL STATEMENT #NO MORE UNIVERSITY APPLICATION #its only the portfolio but thats not that hard since i have work

[sagewordstarot]

Real Talk Rewind: Before the Beginning

Real Talk Rewind: Before the Beginning

The best place to start is at the beginning. Or in this case, before the beginning. Hello and welcome to TaoCraft Tarot blog and podcast. I’m glad you are here. Picking up where we left off in the Real Talk Rewind blog post and in honor of the Halloween anniversary of re-branding my old Tarot work into TaoCraft Tarot, I’m re-introducing the whole story start to finish. On one hand this is the…

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#ace of swords #how to find a psychic you can trust #how to find a tarot reader you can trust #how to spot a psychic scam #pittsburgh tarot reader #Portfolio #psychic #real talk #Sage Snow #TaoCraft Short Sip Tarot #TaoCraft Tarot Blog #taocraft tarot podcast #tarot #tarot reading #trust your instincts

[theworldsoftolkein]

The Hobbit

This is my favorite book. I would love to live in Bag End, and have a smoke sesh with Gandalf ♥

SAGE WINDFEATHER - ARTIST ALLEY PORTFOLIO

#jrr tolkien #middle earth #tolkien legendarium #the hobbit #gandalf #gandalf the grey #the grey pilgrim #hobbit house #hobbiton #hobitton #bilbo baggins #the shire #tolkien #baggins #old toby #bag end

[justabrowncoatedwench]

So I'm not done lol I wanna rant about how all the god shit in BG3 is connected! Spoilers under the cut...

To preface: all dates are listed in DR, or Dale Reckoning, which is the most commonly used dating of years in Forgotten Realms lore, established with 1 at the signing of the Dale's Compact, creating peace between the elves of Cormanthyr and the human+ civilizations of the Dalelands (notable to current discussions, as Elminster Aumar is equally well known as the Sage of Shadowdale, one such dale in the Dalelands).

So Shadowheart's arc highlights the tug of war between Shar and Selune, but Shar and Selune are ALSO the progenitors of a lot of the other deities INCLUDING the OG Mystryl, born when Selune tore a part of her essence & threw it at Shar during their initial war post-sun creation, wounding them both & casting Shar into the void for a while. Mystryl was that piece of magic torn from Selune and having grabbed up a piece of Shar's as well when she hit, a blending of light and dark.

Mystryl then much later gave her life to save the world during Karsus's Folly in -339 DR. That's how Karsus fucked up magic so bad and so permanently. He almost DESTROYED the Weave, because Mystryl - and in future, Mystra - IS the Weave! And she died - thus also killing him, as she was inside him at the time - to preserve the Weave when he tried to steal some measure of her power!

*And Gale knew this*, knew much of it anyway. How could he not, with his own research that led him to the Orb? And his relationship with Mystra? And friendship with Elminster?

Anywho, Mystryl took time to reincarnate herself using a young peasant girl as her vessel, she then chose to go by the name Mystra instead of Mystryl. Once in this vessel she regained control of the Weave, bringing magic back to Toril (the planet Faerun, a continent, is on), which had been chaotic & largely depowered. After Karsus, she became much more strict/ Lawful in her decrees around magic, banning mortals from using any magic above 9th level spells (Karsus's Folly involved at least one 10th or 11th 12th level spell iirc).

Later, during the period known as the Time of Troubles, which began when Bane & Myrkul (two of the Dead Three) tried to steal the Tablets of Fate from Ao (the Overgod that most mortals don't even know exists). Ao then locked the deities into the Material Plane, forcing them to walk among their followers on Toril. Mystra at one point defied Ao's order, attempting to return to the heavens, and was killed by Helm, who had been tasked by Ao with protecting the gates and ensuring none of the gods disobeyed him. (Good job, Mystra.)

Also during the Time of Troubles the Dead Three got their name in truth, as Myrkul, Bane, and Bhaal were killed (as were several other gods, some of whom Ao chose to resurrect as they perished while fulfilling the obligations of their portfolios, like Torm). The Time of Troubles is also when Bhaal was seeding his Bhaalspawn - including Sarevok Anchev - in the world (the results of which gave us Baldur's Gates 1 and 2).

Anyway, as previously established, Mystra IS the Weave, so killing her fucked magic up again, unleashing the Spellplague (hello 4e D&D and your reduced pantheon & reduced magic). Ao selected several mortals to either ascend into vacated portfolios or rewarded mortals for killing gods who needed killing; Cyric was a mortal who killed Bane, while helping to retrieve the Tablets of Fate for Ao, for example of one such occurrence, who fwiw was the adventuring companion of two other mortals chosen for godhood, Kelemvor and Midnight. Kelemvor took on a portfolio of the dead, and Midnight was who Ao picked to take on Mystra's role and she chose to take on Mystra's name as well. This happened in 1358 DR, and when the Tablets were returned to Ao, he ground them to powder so they'd never be at risk again. This however fucked up the natural laws of Realmspace, which began to unravel, beginning the Era of Upheaval. The Era of Upheavel lasted from its beginning in 1358 DR (BG1 takes place in 1368 & BG2 takes place shortly after) through the Second Sundering (though most mortals only know of it as the Sundering, since the First Sundering happened even before Karsus's Folly by millenia, in -17,600 DR, in the time of elves) which took from about 1482 through 1487 DR. (The Second Sundering and its associated tie in novel series - very good! - brings us from 4e into 5e D&D, in ttrpg terms.) Baldur's Gate 3 takes place in 1492 DR, starting in the equivalent earth month to August, late August specifically.

Considering that Midnight took on the mantle of Mystra in 1358, I'm pretty sure Gale has only dealt with *her*, while Elminster has served Mystra - including being her lover and raising 3 of her 7 daughters - for 1300 years by BG3, which would include both previous incarnations of Mystryl/Mystra.

So in summary, the gods are all Like That, even the ones who used to be mortals (and I'm pretty sure Gale doesn't know his Mystra used to be a mortal, or that any other gods were either, based on dialogue after you get the Tome of Karsus in Act 3).

All the delicious BG3 god machinations are connected and have been for centuries if not eons. The Dead Three like to cause problems on purpose, Shar and Selune are sisters & also kind of contentiously divorced parents who can't play nice & use the kids to fight. Even the Lathander stuff at the gith creche is kind of connected, since the kick off of the big war between Shar & Selune was the creation of the sun to give their first child, Chauntea, the og earth/nature deity, warmth. Lathander (& Amaunator, rip) is the deity of the dawn/sun, among other things, and Silvanus (hello deity of the Druids in Act 1 & Halsin) is the wild nature counterpart to Chauntea's now largely agricultural portfolio. Chauntea has been known to have romantic connections with Lathander, as well. Zariel too - hello Wyll & Karlach's storylines - is connected, because before her fall into Avernus where she became an Archdevil in service to Asmodeus, she USED to be a solar (most powerful type of angel/celestial) in the service of Lathander.

If you've gotten this far, thank you for listening to my lore dump lol. I hope it enriches your experience of BG3 & the Forgotten Realms!

Post-Script: if you're left wondering how the unraveling of the laws of Realmspace got fixed, the Second Sundering began when Ao decided to recreate the Tablets of Fate to fix what he'd broken vis a vis the chaos of the Realmspace.

Additional fun fact: of the 3 of Mystra's 7 total daughters that Elminster raised, Storm Silverhand - renowned High Harper of the Dalelands - was one, and often also traveled with him as an adventuring companion as an adult through the centuries. Another is Laeral Silverhand, current Open Lord of Waterdeep, that big ol' city Gale is from that's right up the coast from Baldur's Gate.

#baldur's gate 3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate lore #faerun lore #forgotten Realms lore #faerun #forgotten Realms #Elminster Aumar #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #shadowheart

[eaglyn]

Strictly A Business Relationship | Alhaitham x reader smut and confession

Warning: drinking, drunk sex, no use of protection Summary: It took Alhaitham several months to warm up to you, but it only took him one night of heavy drinking to actually confess. Not proofread :)

Today was a day like any other. Sitting at your desk, receiving papers, filling papers, sending out papers, making several trips from the library to your office, so on and so forth. All within of your job description as... nobody knows.

You were just Y/n. The Sages knew you as Y/n, the students and researchers know you as Y/n, everyone knew you as Y/n. Some people called you the 'Jack of All Trades', as anything from cataloguing new information to taking care of official papers, occasionally supervising experiments, keeping track of certain area's monthly expenses and research funding was your responsibility. It became a motto within the Akademiya: You have a problem? Go to Y/n!

Since you did practically every job that nobody volunteered to do part-time, you had quite the network. Everybody knew and trusted you, and therefore you could get any information you wanted, only dreaming about having the freedom to turn against this accursed institution and destroy it from within with all the information you had.

It's through this can of baked beans that you call a job that you managed to get acquainted with the Akademiya's Scribe, Alhaitham. At first, you found him rather peculiar. He was completely objective towards everything, and it seemed like he didn't have emotions at all. He just stated factual information in the most indifferent manner as possible, and emphasis on factual, since nothing left his mouth that couldn't be backed up with a ton of evidence and research. He was so smart it surprised you.

Upon some sort of miracle, many of the free work spots that you filled in for were taken, as such the Grand Sage offered you a new position that would give you more opportunities to showcase your own genius. Your title was still basically the same 'Ask-Me-To-Solve-Your-Problems Y/n', but now you at least had a job description, and a higher salary.

Your new job was looking through submissions of findings and categorizing them, supervising experiments and making sure they are done according to the submitted thesis and ensuring that the experiment materials were used and not repurposed illegally, and being a witness any time people from the Akademiya got in trouble and were handled by the Mahamatra, making records of the case in the process and maintaining a portfolio of them.

You could also be called 'I-Just-Stand-Here-And-Nod Y/n', but occasionally you did have important things to do. Like the one time you teamed up with Alhaitham. It was unexpected, but not unpleasant. His job as Scribe and your job as... whatever you were happened to intertwine, leading you to to go on an errand or two together and end up back at your place to go over all the findings.

After a while, he grew to respect the extent of your knowledge, eventually seeing you as an equal. Over the years of having a job as chaotic as yours, you also developed his way of reacting to things, the exception being that you acted like you cared. The way he saw you was an absolute genius who could still lower herself down to other people's level, entertain their menial ideas, pretend to be invested in their meaningless eventual turmoil, without ending up as a gossip point.

You were a beacon of trust within a giant web of people, and Alhaitham being so unconventional, you were like his equal opposite in personality. So modest, graceful, kind and trustworthy, and he started getting drawn to that.

Eventually your attitude of not losing your humanity rubbed off on him, but only when he was around you. He claimed he didn't care about anything or anyone, but when it came to you, he cared.

At first, it was small changes in his behavior like smiling occasionally when he was with you, thanking or complimenting you when he felt it was necessary. Then it became a habit of you two to go out to a bar and have a few drinks after a long afternoon brainstorming session.

You were a lightweight compared to him when it came to alcohol, so he'd act disappointed when placing his arm around your shoulder as he walked you home, only to maintain his image.

After some time, he'd find it easier to loosen up around you as opposed to staying as he usually was. Whenever you two were out drinking, he'd place his arm around your waist, and as he was walking you home, he'd give you a piggyback ride or carry you in his arms if he deemed you too drunk or too tired.

Once the project the two of you had been working on was over, you two once again went out drinking, but having drunk way more than the usual, Alhaitham couldn't be bothered to care about Kaveh's future remarks, he just walked you to his house, as yours was too far away.

After wobbling into his house, he noticed that Kaveh was probably out tonight, as such he grabbed a few beers and headed to his room in case his roommate would come back. You two continued popping bottle after bottle, to the point when even Alhaitham was seriously drunk. He wasn't your type of drunk. You were the type of drunk that found everything way too funny, while Alhaitham was just clingy. He sat on his bed, holding your waist as you laid with the back of your head against his stomach.

"Hehee, you look funny upside down." You said, looking up at him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He raised his eyebrows, leaning closer to you.

"You're still pretty, it's just funny." You said after concluding that upside down Alhaitham was just as pretty as regular Alhaitham. It probably wasn't even the alcohol in your system, after all the angle didn't change the fact that his hair was nice and silky, it didn't change the mesmerizing color of his eyes, or his perfect lips.

"Upside down Y/n isn't bad either." You started giggling after hearing this.

"I'm not upside down, silly, you are. I'm normal." You reached up to tap the tip of his nose with your pointer finger.

"If you say so, normal Y/n." You blinked twice at him after he said this.

"I'm always normal, why do you emphasize?" You raised your eyebrows, and he just shrugged. All the alcohol in his brain added onto the fact that you were there made his natural, arrogant responses turn off.

For a while, you two just sat there silently until you decided that you were bored of your current position, so you sat up beside him, only for him to lean onto your shoulder and hug your torso.

"You're very pretty, Alhaitham." You giggled at him after looking down at his face for a while. Your sudden statement made him look up at you. "You have very pretty eyes, a pretty nose and very nice hair. And you also have pretty lips. 10/10, very kissable looking."

For once, he was blushing. While the look on his face didn't change, the redness in his cheeks was not something you could miss.

"Hehe, you're blushing!" You said before pinching his cheeks.

"Ow... Why did you do that?" His words fell on deaf ears as you just continued to squish different parts of his face with your hand before you just settled on playing with his hair.

"I want to ask you something, Y/n." He said out of the blue, completely seriously.

"What is it?" His tone indicated that it wasn't time for you to start joking.

"What am I... to you?" His question almost made you sober up in a sense as you looked at him in the eyes.

"I mean... you're Alhaitham. We've been working together for a while now, but we also hang out after work. And the way we're just laying here, essentially cuddling isn't quite friend behavior either. I don't know. That's the most concrete answer I can give." He nodded and swallowed. "Why? What am I to you?" You asked.

"When I met you, I was interested to see why you were so popular among everyone despite having a seemingly ordinary job. At first, I didn't think much of you, but as we were working on this case together, I realized that you were insanely smart. You are just like me, you're a genius. But even so you can remain so compassionate. You act so human around other people, despite the fact that even you yourself see their problems as meaningless. Everyone trusts and admires you, and rightfully so. I feel like you've shown me that that the part of me that I've always seen as a weakness, an inconvenience is actually good." He said, and now you were the one with tomato cheeks.

"Aww, I appreciate that." You said.

"Truthfully, I need you, Y/n. You complete me." He said, looking into your eyes with utmost sincerity.

You slowly leaned in, pressing your lips against his, one hand buried in his hair and the other tracing the muscles on his back while he just held you close. The way his lips felt on yours had your head in the sky while your stomach was spinning in circles. He was craving you, evidently so.

His hands wandered to your thighs, easily lifting you onto his lap without even breaking the kiss, then he placed his hands on your hips, pulling you even closer. You hummed against his lips as he squeezed your hips, gripping his hair before finally pulling away, breathing heavily.

"Y/n." He said looking you in the eye. "I have to warn you that if we kiss one more time, I won't be able to stop myself. The decision is yours, Y/n. We either go back to just hanging out or we can give in to our desires. You choose."

You nodded, evaluating whether or not it would be a good idea to sleep with someone in your current state. Then again, it was Alhaitham, not just 'someone'. With that, you crashed your lips against his, wrapping your legs around his waist as you sat in his lap. Suddenly the smell of him was even more intoxicating, along with the fact that he was so close to you.

A few months ago if someone told you that in the near future you'd be sitting in Alhaitham's lap, making out with him in his bed, you would've called them crazy. But now, here you were.

He groaned as you pulled on his hair, squeezing your butt as his other hand wandered up to your breasts, feeling them through the fabric of your dress. Since it was an off the shoulder dress, he could easily just pull the neckline down and expose your breasts. The cool air in his room hitting your exposed nipples made them harden while shivers were sent down your spine as he started fondling them with his hand. In the meantime, you could also feel his erection bulging through the fabric of his pants, and you only wanted more.

You started rocking, rubbing yourself against his crotch, chasing after every bit of friction, almost melting when you heard him groan deeply. The way he had you wrapped around his finger had your mind spinning, and you could only imagine what it would feel like to have him inside you.

He soon break free, but only to strip off his clothes, while you did the same. Lucky for you, you only had your dress and your panties, so you sat back down on the bed, watching him undress. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the way his muscles flexed every time he moved, and you could feel your imagination running free. While you valued your dignity, you totally wouldn't mind being bent over a desk by this man, even if half of the Akademiya saw. And you had him all for yourself.

He finally turned towards you with the last of his clothes discarded, and you felt your eyes being glued to his crotch. It was bigger than any you've seen before. It had to be at least eight inches, thick with veins, and a tip that was oozing with precum.

He just had a grin on his face as he observed the look in your eyes. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle." He said, walking over to the bed. He signaled for you to lay down before opening your legs and getting on his knees.

"You're wet." He said before proceeding to drag his tongue over your slit. He looked you straight in the eyes as he dove in, sucking on your clit while his fingers ghosted over your thighs, making you shiver. It didn't take long before you were moaning at every swirl of his tongue around your clit, and even more so whenever he licked over your opening, teasing to push his tongue in before going back to your clit. You could feel a knot forming in your stomach, but just before you could finally cum, he pulled himself away, once again looking you straight in the eye as he used his thumb to clean his face and lick everything off.

You gulped as he climbed on top of you, nervous because of the size, but also boiling with anticipation because of the climax he robbed you of. He teased your clit by rubbing his tip against it before aligning himself with your entrance and slowly pushing in. He was huge.

He moved very slowly, pushing it in inch by inch and stopping to let you adjust after every inch. The way he stretched you out hurt, causing you to scrunch your eyebrows. Seeing your expression, he leaned down to press a small kiss on your chin before pulling out and slowly pushing you in.

He started moving at a slow and steady pace. It was still a little painful, but the pain was quickly shifting to pleasure as his veins rubbed against your walls. It all felt like a fever dream. He looked insanely attractive as it was, but something about the way his naked body towered on top of you made you want to scream.

"You good?" He asked, looking up at you with a lustful, but patient gaze. You just nodded in response and waited for him to start moving again.

This time his pace was a little faster than before, but it was still overall slow and steady. You were trying to stay quiet which ended as soon as he leaned down to start sucking hickeys onto your neck. He supported himself with one hand while the other kept squishing your breasts and pinching your nipples. This combination was simply too much for your mind and body to handle, as such you quickly turned into a moaning mess as Alhaitham continued rocking his hips against yours.

You barely even realized that he'd moved you when he flipped you on top of him. He was sitting with his back against the bedframe and positioned you on top of him, hands on either side of your butt. You used your hand to direct his dick to your entrance before lowering yourself onto him, releasing a soft moan in the process.

He once again buried his face in your chest, kissing your neck, your breasts, sucking on your nipples all the while guiding your hips with his strong hands. He paired that with the movement of his own hips, and soon you were back to moaning out loud every time your pubes made contact. He was so deep inside you that you could feel his tip kissing your cervix each time. You started craving more, taking control of your hip movements and starting to move a lot quicker, and he soon got the idea, matching his pace to yours.

It was like an itch in inside you that needed to be scratched, but nothing was enough. That was until he held your hips down tightly and started thrusting up into you at an insane speed. Sounds of skin slapping and moaning from both parties filled the room, and you could feel yourself tightening around him as you threw your head back and squeezed your eyes shut.

"You're... so tight." He said, continuing this pace for about ten more seconds before both of you had climaxed. You were seeing stars and your walls were pulsating around him, sucking every bit of his cum out of his dick. The sensation of being filled with cum was something you didn't know how to even describe, but it had you hugging Alhatiham close, still heaving for air.

"That was amazing." You said, resting your chin on top of his head, giving him a face full of boobs.

"Yeah..." He said. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He cleaned you up and gave you one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers to sleep in before he himself put on a pair of pajama shorts and climbed into bed next to you, covering the both of you with a blanked and holding you close. Your mind wandered back to the conversation that lead to this spectacular experience in the first place.

"Alhaitham, remember what you asked me?"

"Hm? Oh you mean when I asked what I mean to you." He responded, almost half asleep.

"I think I have an answer. To me, you are the one I love." You said, placing your hand on top of his hand that laid on your stomach.

"I love you too, Y/n." He said, then placed a kiss on the back of your head.

"Hehe, I'm no longer single." You giggled once again, but this time it was more because of how tired you were. "I managed to bag Alhaitham! Al-fucking-haitham! Can you believe it, Alhaitham?"

You heard him chuckle quietly, which made you do a little victory dance in your head.

"Sleep, Y/n." He said, and you muttered a 'fine' under your breath before closing your eyes and falling asleep within a few seconds.

Both of you were severely hungover when you woke up in the morning, but Alhaitham went to prepare breakfast for the two of you while you stayed in bed, rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes. He soon came back to tell you that breakfast is done, and you got out of bed walking out of his room with a big stretch and a yawn.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Kaveh, his roommate was coming out of his room, to the living room just then. Poor man would've never expected seeing Y/n from the Akademiya being there in none other than Alhaitham's clothes. As such, he screeched. "AAAH! Y/n from the Akademiya? What are you doing here?" You knew Kaveh, there have been times when he had to interact with you for certain jobs.

Alhaitham walked to you and hugged you from behind, looking Kaveh in the eyes before saying: "She's my girlfriend."

"What? Is this true? Blink twice if he paid you to act." Kaveh said, looking at you, but you just blankly stared at him without blinking.

"I'm pretty sure I have a higher salary than him, he can't bribe me with money. So yes, it's true." You finally responded, making Kaveh once again turn his attention back to his roommate.

"But how? When?" He was absolutely, positively flabbergasted.

"I'm simply better at talking to women than you are." Alhaitham said with a completely straight face, and you were just entertained to watch this whole drama unfold.

"No. That's not true. Amani from the Spatamad Darshan is going to confess to me any way now!" He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"You've been saying that for half a year now." Alhaitham responded while you just giggled in his arms.

"You- How dare you?" Kaveh said, storming off, while you and Alhaitham just went to the kitchen to have breakfast.

You were certain that your life will never be boring again.

#genshin x reader #fanfic #confessions #romance #reader insert #female reader #genshin impact #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #smut #eventual smut #drunk #tw drinking #genshin alhaitham #genshin kaveh #kaveh #alhaitham and kaveh bickering

[illubean]

Valorant Protocol as Highschool Stereotypes

Characters: Chamber, Gekko, Iso, Jett, Killjoy, Neon, Phoenix, Raze, Sage, Skye, Viper, Yoru Type: Headcanons

HAHA help me valorant brainrot >.< also this is based off of my hs experience soooo yeah

Warnings: none

Chamber

your typical pretty boy

all the girls love him all the boys hate him

well...most of the girls love him

they follow him around to classes or offer him gifts or ask to sit with him at lunch etc.

and he eats up the attention every time

he's lab partners with Viper in Environmental Sciences and he likes trying to flirt with her

she actually hates him btw

Gekko

canonically he skateboards

but honestly? I can see him being on the dance team

he's so high energy, he needs some sort of outlet

he never misses an opportunity to show off his dance moves

homecoming? prom? he is the center of the dance circle

like Raze, he doesn't know how popular he is

he's just happy to have so many good friends that it doesn't even actually occur to him that he's considered "popular"

Iso

he's an ap art kid

like he walks around with a big ass sketchbook every day

always talking about his portfolio

Iso baby ily but please shut the fuck up about oil paints <3

he probably volunteered part of his summer break to come in and paint a mural for the school

I think he'd also take a piano class as like a schedule filler but he actually gets crazy good at it

Jett

pe tryhard

if you end up on the opposite team as her while playing dodge ball good luck 😓

she's always picked as team captain because literally no one else is excited as she is

she's sorta like Hairo from Saiki K 💀

she gets a lil mad when her teammates don't try

Killjoy

she's in robotics club

she's not very popular but that doesn't bother her at all

she heads straight to and from every class and spends her lunch period in the workshop unless Raze drags her off somewhere

not a lot of people actually know who she is, and if they do they just know her as 'Raze's Friend'

i think she'd remind the teacher about the homework and hit you with the "erm actually 🤓" tbh

Neon

she's on track and field/cross country

after every meet you can find her laying on the floor somewhere ready to puke bc she tries so hard to win 😭

she always ends up top 5 tho

she complains about practice but joins the team every year anyways

she carries her bag around all the time and if you open it there's like 10 water bottles in there

#hydratedqueen

Phoenix

theater kid DUHH

he's probably drama club president or sumn

bro will NOT let go of a specific song from a musical he was in his freshman year and it wasn't even his song 💀

he's been in every show every year and somehow he manages to land every role he wants

he's insanely good at the game 'bang' (mostly because he's louder than everyone else...)

he probably plans/hosts the cast parties too

Raze

she doesn't care much about her grades

she does the bare minimum and gets straight Cs

she's just here to have fun

everyone likes her because of her approachable personality

she doesn't think she's popular but she is

Sage

she's in the medical assistant class

she takes it very seriously, as she plans on going to medical school

even before taking the class she carries a first aid kit and other essentials everywhere she goes

you need a bandaid? ibuprofen? a pad or tampon? she has it all

she's also ASB president

school events literally would not be able to run without her

lets just say her college applications/resume will look REALLY good...

Skye

she also took medical assistant but was less crazy about it than Sage

she just follows her friend's lead

she thinks the skills are useful but she doesn't see herself making it her career

but also I think she would play volleyball

she's a well rounded player but specializes most in defense

still, don't underestimate her bc this girl can SPIKE

Viper

she took every ap science class offered without taking the general ones first

she complains about getting any grade below an A...

"What are you talking about? That test was easy"

sorry not everyone is as smart as you Sabine 😑

she spends all her free time at chem tutoring (even though she doesn't need it)

Yoru

he thinks he looks cool and mysterious when he walks down the halls but he doesn't

everyone just thinks his mad all the time and stay out of his way 😭

randos try to pick fights with him bc he "looked at them wrong" (Yoru wins every time)

he's not exactly a 'quiet kid' but he does lay low when it comes to the social part of school

despite his 'bad boy' look, he has pretty good grades

he's also probably one of those guys that a handful of girls have a crush on but he has no idea

#viper valorant #valorant viper #valorant x reader #valorant sage #valorant #valorant skye #valorant iso x reader #valorant iso #iso x reader #iso x you #iso valorant #valorant yoru #yoru valorant #yoru x reader #valorant phoenix #phoenix valorant #phoenix x reader #valorant jett #jett #jett valorant #jett x reader #valorant raze #raze valorant #raze x reader #valorant killjoy #killjoy valorant #valorant neon #neon valorant #neon x reader #valorant gekko

[sagemonsters]

Though Hell Should Bar the Way

Summary: Bess is a night owl and a college student—a combination that turns out to be dangerous when she realizes she can’t make it back to her residence during an ice storm at 3am. After being saved by a strange, mute motorcyclist who is reluctant to remove his helmet, Bess is eager to uncover his secrets.

Status: SFW

Relationship: cis female human (she/her) x cis male dullahan (he/him)

Word Count: 2,200

Notes: this is a modern AU fanfic of Alfred Noyes' poem "The Highwayman"

Chapter 1 of 1

Bess all but screamed when someone tapped her shoulder in the small study cubicle on the fourth floor of the Holger Library. One of the assistant librarians, Alex, grabbed her half-empty Starbucks cup before Bess could knock it over as she recoiled, and her Beyoncé-induced study euphoria ended as that motion yanked her wired earbuds out of her ears.

“—Closing in five minutes, Miss Noyes,” Alex said.

“Right, yeah… What time is it?” Bess asked. 

Alex set her Starbucks cup back down on the desk. “Five minutes to three o’clock in the morning,” he answered, and then looked down at his wristwatch. “Four, actually.”

Bess blinked, then dived for her phone in her backpack; the time was correct. “Damn,” she muttered. She had an English final—a timed essay—in six hours; she needed to get whatever sleep she could before it started.

“Be careful out there—the snow feels like falling glass, and everything’s iced over,” Alex warned. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I hope you don’t have far to walk to get back to your dorm.”

“My apartment is on Kerr Green,” Bess said.

Alex looked at her in horror for a moment, then gave her a wince of sympathy; Kerr Green was halfway across the city, since Losthaven University had a decentralized campus whose student residences gave grief to the aforementioned students and city planners alike. 

“Get an Uber or Lyft or whatever,” Alex said. “You cannot walk there in weather like this.”

Bess shook her head as she shrugged on and buttoned her navy blue peacoat. “I’m broke at the moment. I’ll be fine, though. Thank you.”

Alex gave her a final, worried look, then left the cubicle and resumed his patrol for other students who had missed the closing announcement. Bess shouldered her backpack and took the stairs to the library’s front door, and then paused.

The pavement outside the library was slick and shining with ice, just as Alex had promised, and she could see more ice coating the streetlamps and the lone USPS box. The plows had already come by, so the roads looked reasonably clear—but snow piled high in dirty, irregular drifts to either side of the street, and more was falling by the minute.

For a few moments, Bess allowed herself to despair. She could call her mother in Florida and ask for twenty-five dollars to get an Uber back to her apartment—but that would be the second time this week she asked for money, and it was three o’clock in the morning, so her pride forbid such a thing. Bess huffed to herself, then pulled on her hat and gloves and stepped outside.

The wind hit her like a broadsword, slicing through her layers and carving straight to her core. This was, without a doubt, a proper New England winter storm, and Bess fancied that she could feel ice crystals making shallow cuts into the inside of her lungs as she inhaled; the air was so cold that breathing hurt. She wobbled in place as the wind threatened to bowl her over on the slick pavement.

Bess managed to get five blocks in the direction of Kerr Green before she realized she should have swallowed her pride and called her mother. She had fallen twice during those five blocks, and her fingers were aching with cold inside her gloves even after she had shoved them into her coat pockets. 

She eased herself into an alleyway for some reprieve from the wind and unzipped her backpack with clumsy, gloved fingers. After some digging, she managed to pull out her phone, and then removed one glove with her teeth to unlock the device with her fingerprint. The cold ache intensified in that hand, so much so that it shook with pain. She could barely feel the phone anymore, but managed to open the CALL app—

The phone slipped out of her fingers and fell to the asphalt at her feet. The screen went dark, and when Bess picked it up she saw a spiderweb of cracks across the screen. 

Crying is useless. Crying is useless. Crying is useless… Bess told herself, but the tears were welling up anyway and stinging at the corners of her eyes. She fumbled her glove back on and turned to trudge back out into the wind. Maybe there was still someone at the library, and she could beg them to let her use the phone at the front desk…

A headlight sliced through the snowy nighttime murk in front of the alleyway, followed closely by the deafening snarl of a motorcycle engine. An all-black bike with a helmeted rider swathed head to toe in black leather gear pulled to a stop in front of the alley, its engine settling into a low, coughing growl. The rider’s helmet, with its shadowed visor pulled down, turned toward Bess. He let go of the handlebar and held out his hand to her.

Bess stared.

The rider curled and uncurled his gloved fingers in a beckoning gesture. After a moment’s hesitation, Bess stumbled toward him. The sidewalk was slippery beneath her boots. She tottered as another gust of wind hit her, instinctively reaching out for support, and the rider grabbed her wrist and helped her upright—helped her the final few steps toward him, too.

“Can you take me to Kerr Green on West River Street?” Bess asked, shouting to be heard over the wind and the engine. The rider was still holding her wrist.

The rider nodded, and Bess was cold and desperate enough to climb on behind him and wrap her arms around his midsection. The motorcycle’s engine howled to life like a thing possessed, and she and the rider tore down the street. 

The wind whipped icy snow into her eyes, so Bess hid her face against the rider’s leather-clad shoulder. At this speed, it was even colder than before, and she was so very tired. She’d have to get her phone replaced tomorrow, and she had her English final too…

When Bess lifted her head after a particularly hard turn, she saw tongues of green ghostfire licking at the motorcycle’s wheels, and more streaming out from the engine like banners. One flame seemed to be in contact with her leg, but it didn’t appear to be spreading to the cloth of her pants and Bess felt no heat. She blinked hard, but the flames didn’t go away. 

This is real, she realized, and a moment later: this isn’t a normal motorcyclist.

“Stop! Stop!” Bess shrieked, and shook the rider’s shoulder. A moment later he swerved into a narrow side street, slowed to a stop, and put his feet down to balance the bike. The green ghostfire dimmed and then faded to nothingness. He looked over his shoulder at her.

“Who are you?” Bess demanded. “What are you?”

The rider said nothing.

“What do you want?”

The rider twisted around as much as he could so that he could face her properly. Bess looked into the visor, but couldn’t see even the faintest shadow of a face beneath it. The rider reached up a hand and brought two fingers to her cold lips in the barest ghost of a touch, then pulled away.

“What does that mean?” Bess asked. And then, more softly, “Are you mute?”

The rider nodded. 

“Okay,” Bess whispered after a moment. “Okay, let’s… let’s keep going, then.”

The rider gripped the hand that she still had wrapped around him, threading their fingers together and giving a light squeeze, then pulled away and started the motorcycle again. Bess tucked her head back down against his shoulder and did her best to endure the cold and wind and ice, but the flaring ghostfire provided no warmth; by the time they arrived at Kerr Green and the student residences that lined the park, she had largely stopped shivering. 

The cold had numbed her mind as well as her extremities, and it was hard to move. The rider had to help her to her door, and he followed her inside when Bess struggled with her gloves in the entryway. He heated water in a bowl in the microwave of the kitchenette, then helped her remove her gloves and submerge her frostbitten hands in the warm water.

“Thanks,” Bess said, and started shivering again as her body thawed. The rider, still in all his leather gear, pulled off her ice-rimed hat and coat and boots, then draped the blanket on the back of the couch over the space heater to warm it up before wrapping it around her shoulders where she sat at the kitchen table. 

“You can take off your helmet if you want,” Bess said when feeling started to return to her fingers and toes.

The rider hesitated, and then the helmet shook from side to side.

Bess attempted a reassuring smile. “I promise I won’t tell anyone what you look like.”

Another shake of the helmet. 

When Bess’ fingers no longer hurt, she pulled them out of the bowl, flexed them experimentally, and then started fidgeting with a tassel on the corner of the blanket.

“Thank you for all your help,” she said. “It really… I mean, I think I might have died without you.”

The rider nodded, then moved toward the door.

“Wait!” Bess said. “Please… please don’t leave just yet.”

The rider paused and looked back at her. Bess stood up, still with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and went to him. She reached out and touched his arm; there really wasn’t a single inch of exposed skin showing among the black leather, not a single smidgen of humanity or clue towards his identity.

“What’s your name?” Bess asked.

The rider shook his head, then reached up and brushed his gloved fingers over her lips again. 

Bess felt her cheeks heating in a blush. “Kiss me,” she whispered. “Kiss me before you go.” She knew it was a ridiculously romantic thing to say, something out of the trashy romance novels she kept hidden under her bed, but what else was there to say in a situation like this? What else was there to do?

The rider reached into a pocket of his jacket and brought out a small, dogeared notebook and a stub of pencil. He wrote for a few moments, then showed the page to her:

I CAN’T KISS.

“Why not?” Bess asked. 

The rider started to move past her, toward the door, and Bess darted in front of him and put her back to the door to bar his path. “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on,” she said. 

There was a pause. The warm yellow lights in the apartment flickered, dimmed, and then died entirely, and that sickly green ghostfire curled out of the lamps and from the burners of the stove. A chill crept in, not as terrible as the storm raging outside but still cold enough that Bess wrapped the blanket tighter around herself.

The rider took off his helmet, revealing empty air; he had no head.

Bess’ eyes went wide.

The headless rider wrote again in his notebook and showed it to her: SCARED?

“No,” Bess said, even though that wasn’t quite the truth. She stepped forward and put her hands on the chest of the rider’s jacket. “Show me the rest of you.”

The rider pulled off his gloves. He had normal-looking hands, although they were room temperature at Bess’ touch and had no warmth of life within them. The high-collared jacket came off next, revealing a plain black shirt that had a human-seeming chest underneath it. When Bess laid a hand over where his heart should be, however, there was no beat beneath her fingers, and his tattooed skin was cool.

“Why did you help me?” Bess asked.

WHY NOT?

Bess frowned. “That isn’t a good answer.”

YOU SHOULD STOP ASKING QUESTIONS, THEN.

Bess folded her arms over her chest. “Absolutely not. You…” She felt her cheeks heat in another blush and forced herself to be brave: “If you can’t kiss me before you leave, then I’m sure there are other things we can do.”

SUCH AS? the headless rider wrote.

Bess’ blush intensified. She reached for the top button of her blouse, but then hesitated. “I don’t know how to start without at least a kiss,” she confessed.

CAN I SHOW YOU?

Bess nodded. “Please,” she whispered, and the long ribbons of emerald ghostfire burned high and bright throughout the apartment as the headless rider set aside his notebook and reached for her.

•

The storm had died by the time dawn arrived, and newborn sunlight glittered atop the ice that sheathed the city in crystalline glory. Bess awoke alone, and found that her final had been postponed via an email from her English professor. She smiled and plaited a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Enjoy my writing? Please consider buying me a coffee so I can have a warm drink while I write.

You can also read this story in the August 2023 edition of the much-loved M❤️NSTER magazine.

#monster romance #monster lover #terato #sage's portfolio #monster x human #monster boyfriend #dullahan #romance writing #romance fiction #the highwayman #fanfiction

[sagecodex]

SOKCHO MOON—MOBILE VERSION

COMMISSION—NOT FOR SALE

Sokcho Moon was a commission that prioritizes a friendly and approachable feel, and was altogether great to work on!

Every page of this skin was fully customized, including pages that are usually ignored (like the registration page, the online list page, etc). 

The staff team of this site had a lot of vision that I just helped make come true, so they get just as much credit for this work as I do!

The mobile version is a simplified version of the desktop skin, which hides some of the unimportant information for ease of use. We don’t use the built-in jcink mobile skin in this house—we build our own!

Features:

toggle light/dark mode;

Increase or decrease font size to your liking;

Scroll to top/bottom buttons;

Sortable member list;

pop out profile with tabs;

Different profiles for ooc accounts;

In-profile auto thread trackers;

Tabbed guidebook;

Auto claims;

Auto member group color changes;

Last poster images on index

Alert notifications+drop down menu;

Toggleable top menu with quick links, search bar, and announcements;

100% Mobile-friendly codes and templates;

Stacked tables in user controls;

Check out the desktop version for the full list of features and more screenshots!

#jcink skin #jcink #sage codes #my codes #not for sale #commission #jcink coder #portfolio #excuse the crappy gif quality

[lmklotusmaidenau]

Lotus Maiden AU

Welcome to the story! This is a fanfiction project that I have been working on for a while now. This page is to serve as the sort of portfolio of the stories. The stories can also be found on AO3. I appreciate any sort of feedback and suggestions, so feel free to leave comments on the chapters.

I don't own or claim to own the characters or the show, they belong to their respective owners. The story is also loosely based off of the manga called Black Bird by Kanoko Sakurakouji.

Hope you enjoy and make sure to always keep your smiles bright!

My Main Blog

Main Story:

Y/N is MK's older sibling. They were used to being on the sidelines, not being the whole 'running into the fray' type like their brother. They were like this even before MK became the Monkey King's successor. Y/N is forced into their brother's new life though when they are discovered to be something called 'The Lotus Maiden', a mortal whose blood bore tremendous power to demons. Now Y/N has to find a way to cope with being tossed into the battles as well, and figure out how to protect themselves from forces who wish to only use their inborn power maliciously. It also doesn't help that now demons are either racing to either devour them whole or to claim them as their prize.

The Lotus Maiden - Female Y/N Pronouns (She/Her)

The Lotus Sage - Male Y/N Pronouns (He/Him)

The Last Lotus - Gender Neutral Y/N Pronouns (They/Them)

Fanfics of the Fanfic:

(I don't know what to call them... 😅)

When the Poppy Blooms

Just A Little Bit Lonely

[thorsenmark]

The Sky Is Low and the Snow Comes Down (Joshua Tree National Park) by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: A setting looking to the northeast while taking in views of a snowy landscape along the Hidden Valley Nature Trail in Joshua Tree National Park. This setting had layers with the rock formations and hillsides that seemingly crisscrossed each other. I used that and then angled my Nikon SLR camera so that I could capture that feel. I also wanted to minimize the overcast and snowy skies as I felt they were more of a negative space and really didn't add to the image captured.

#Azimuth 27 #Central and Southern California Ranges #Creosote Bush #Day 2 #Desert Landscape #Desert Mountain Landscape #Desert Plant Life #DxO PhotoLab 6 Edited #Hidden Valley Nature Trail #Joshua Tree #Joshua Tree National Park and California #Joshua Tree Ranges #Landscape #Landscape - Scenery #Little San Bernardino Mountains #Looking NE #Mojave Desert #Nature #Nikon D850 #No People #Outside #Pacific Ranges #Peninsular Southern California Ranges #Portfolio #Project365 #Rock Formations #Sage brush #Scenics - Nature #SnapBridge #Snow

[drawsomething]

a Page of Sage

I have a confused relationship with posting art online. I don't have much in the way of finished art very often, as I have spent a few years trying to drag myself out of the burnout pit by my fingernails, but I do often have sketches or studies or rough things. Lots of things that aren't really pretty or aesthetic - much more rough than this, even. I find this page somewhat aesthetic to look at, but that might be because Its My Dog laughs. But things that I'm working on trying to understand better, or whatever the interest of the day is, my eternal attempts to draw people better, SO MANY random floating body parts because I am a Practicing Artist. I must Practice. So much practice.

I feel unsettled when it comes time to post things that aren't presentable, finished works. Generally a nice online gallery of art should be a nice online portfolio of things, right? And there's a degree of health in not sharing Everything. But on the other hand... I'm not really trying to sell myself as an artist. I'm not trying to make a gallery. It feels bad to not post anything at all, but also it feels like a weird imposition to post sketches and disjointed things. I don't really know what to do. I've thought about (and tried) doing sketchdumps, where I just post it in big groups, but I will forget about previous sketches within minutes of putting them down tbh. I've thought about grouping things by subject and just doing free mini zines of "look thats the subject matter if you want to search it out." I've thought about just making my bksy or instagram dedicated spaces for art nonsense. I've mostly just ended up not posting anything.

tl;dr I feel very confused about what to share and when and logically I should just do whatever I want, but I don't know what that really is. This is my space but I dont fully know how I fit into it. heck. im trying to figure it out but ... ???

#artists on tumblr #dog #mutt #sketch page #gestures

[monstersdownthepath]

Good morning venerable sage, I fell into the ol' infernal dukes that are vampire patrons rabbit hole this morning and came across Zaebos, Lorcan, and Blood Emperor Ruithvein, first off why aren't these 3 used more often since anything that can utilize both devils and vampirism in a campaign seems to be instant win when it comes to plothooks etc? While secondly it mentions that Ruithvein is the 3rd vampire to exist, factoring in Zura then who would be the 1st and 2nd vampire to exist?

Well with Lorcan and Ruithvein, I agree! No idea WHY those two don't get more of a spotlight, though it likely has something to do with the lack of lore on their part. Zaebos, however, has the divine portfolio of "sexual perversion," which paints his particular cult of vampires in a light I doubt Paizo wants to place in an actual adventure that players can encounter for very long. Ironically, though, he's the only one of the three with an actual appearance in an AP: his brief mention in Ashes of Dawn, where the players actually meet (and can ally with) his followers, only briefly alludes to the Inquisitor at the scene "leading" a pair of nobles in "worship of Zaebos" without further exploration into the implications of that.

Despite their ostensible importance to vampire lore, all three of them have scarcely any lore or even any mechanical details, with only Lorcan receiving any spotlight in the Complete Book of the Damned, Ruithvein having nary a sentence devoted to him, describing him as "withered" but one of the two powers in the Revenant Court of Malebolge (the other being Lorcan) who endlessly battle for supremacy over the souls of Lawful Evil vampires who end up in Hell.

Zura, in multiple sources, is stated to be the first of all vampires (it's NOT stated whether or not blood-drinking, sun-hating Undead that aren't vampires existed before her), but Shadows at Sundown--the most recent book to contain concrete information on vampires, including their original forms as the shadowy Strigoi--leaves it ambiguous as to whether or not she actually learned to pass on her affliction to others by claiming that either Urgathoa OR Zura could have created the ritual to bind a Strigoi to a mortal (the process by which vampirism arrived on Golarion). It's also entirely ambiguous as to how and when Zura became the first vampire, whether she did so as a human Azlanti or only transformed after her death and ascension into a demon.

if you want to get granular and dive even deeper into lore implications, it may be that Zura is NOT the first of the vampires, period, but rather the first of the vampires that could reproduce, able to pass on her transformation into those she fed upon. She is visibly a far cry from the twisted and mangled forms of the Nosferatu, the first clumsy attempts by mortals to bond with the Strigoi that ended with sterile, rotting, bestial bodies, and can indeed create vampires through both her own bite and through ritual.

... It's actually kind of refreshing to see that Ruithvein is just flat out, unambiguously and concretely stated to be "third of all vampires" in every single-sentence appearance he's ever had. His description lends itself to him being a Nosferatu (which lends itself well to being the third), though until we see an actual picture of the guy, who knows!

With Zura as the first vampire and Ruithvein as the third, the second isn't stated anywhere, in any source. Perhaps the second vampire was such a loser that it wasn't recorded, or maybe the second vampire is still around but keeps to itself, and as such hasn't been killed. Perhaps the second vampire fled to another world entirely so its name and fate aren't known to Golarion. My kneejerk reaction, however, is that the second vampire is just Lorcan, as he shares the Revenant Courts with Ruithvein and has dominion over the divine portfolios of "blood and rebirth."

#asks #tar-baphon