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csidesummit · 5 months

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American Arcadia was so great!

youtube

I've seriously never seen a blending of genres done so expertly as in American Arcadia. It's only outdone by the quality of the narrative and the characters. Give this one a play!

#American Arcadia #Trevor Hills #Angela Solano #Kovacs #Indie games #Cinematic platformers #Second person perspective #CSideSummit #Youtube

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kitsune-oji · 1 year

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Let's Write Again!: #3

"You're a mess." "Thank you for the lovely compliment."

-> Lucifer

Both prompt and character were randomly selected.

Gn! Mc (you /yours)

Readers height is mentioned once (hip at the height of a desk). The relationship between Mc and Lucifer isn't specified as romantic or platonic

It was nothing new for Lucifer to vanish into his study and not come out for days at a time. Oftentimes, he even forgot to eat and as cute as it was to watch Mammon take care of his big brother by worrying over his wellbeing and bringing him food, you wished Lucifer would break that habit of his.

It was fun to spend time with his brothers - sometimes you even forgot Lucifer wasn't there - but you couldn't help but be unhappy. Maybe a part of you was disappointed. Mostly though, you missed him.

Plotting how to get him to take a break was always a challenge. Force wouldn't work and he was too hardheaded to listen to reason. You'd have more luck waiting for him to just collapse from exhaustion but that could take days (and nights) and it wouldn't be good for him either.

On your way to his study, armed with a shadow hog sandwich and a sliced poison apple, you tried to think of what to say this time. Your own worry was good, as well as mentioning his brothers, but it never quite got him to cave. Of course, you could also ask Diavolo to order Lucifer to get some rest but that didn't always work out too well either. You didn't want to strain their relationship even more.

After a gentle knock, you opened the entrance to Lucifer's study. As you guessed, he was sitting by his desk, looking as if he could use some sleep. Some 72 hours might be good.

"You're a mess."

Lucifer looked up from his papers to glare at you. His hair was sort of messy from how often he carded his fingers through it. Deep blue circles had formed under his eyes that he struggled to keep focused, let alone open.

You had no doubt that the only thing keeping him up was tons of caffeine and pure will, fueled by his pride.

"Thank you for the lovely compliment", Lucifer hissed at you through his teeth and snarled.

It would have looked more intimidating if he wasn't so lifeless, slumped in his seat as he was.

"Yes yes, Mr Pride. It's only the truth." - You put down the plate next to the paper he was in the process of reading - "If you'd take proper breaks and actually eat something for once, you wouldn't be a mess. Not to mention..."

With a glance towards the stack he still had to do and another at what he had already finished, you sighed. For someone so intelligent, Lucifer could be so dumb sometimes.

You continued, "Not to mention that you'd get your work done much more efficiently if your brain wasn't all tired and exhausted. I don't understand why you're torturing yourself so much."

He groaned, head dropped into his hands, elbows on his desk as he rubbed his eyes with his palms. You were just tall enough to comfortable half-sit on the edge of his desk, leaning against it and watching him. After giving him a moment and then another, you figured he just didn't have an answer to your question either.

Instead of asking again - you didn't really expect a response anyway - you nudged the plate just a tiny bit into his direction to get his attention.

"At least eat something, please. You can even eat and work at the same time, since you can eat it with one hand. Hm?"

It took a bit, but Lucifer dropped his hands onto the desk again, looked towards the food and then mumbled something before taking an apple slice and biting off a piece of it. As soon as the taste registered in his mind, his stomach growled angrily. Part of you wanted to see if he'd be able to rival Beel with the speed at which he ate it all. Though, it was a lot less messy than when his brother gorged himself on food.

You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips. Especially when you noticed just how much more Lucifer struggled to keep himself awake now.

Food made you tired, since a lot of energy went to digesting it. There was no way he could win now.

You 6 : Lucifer 0

#mine #obey me shall we date #Obey me Lucifer #Drabble #Omeshot #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Ff #Ficlet #Writing #om! swd #gender neutral reader #gn mc #second person perspective #race neutral mc #Lucifer x mc

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s0ftandsad · 7 months

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Another one shot!

I'm honestly so proud of what I wrote. It took me like 10 months to write and perfect it. It might be better than my Tony Stark/reader one-shot. To be fair, I did crank out my Tony Stark/Reader one shot in two days. I was also sleep deprived haha

Back on the topic of my one-shot, it's not really spicy, but spicy stuff is mentioned. It's fluff and angst with a happy ending and somewhat of a rewrite of a scene in CA: CW. If y'all decide to take a look at my one-shot, I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts. I still have a long way to go with my writing, so constructive criticism is always welcome!!

Word Count: 1,879 Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader. (I didn't use pronouns or any physical appearance descriptors. It's for anyone and everyone.)

Summary: After Lagos, Wanda is insecure and feels guilty. You comfort and reassure her.

OR

Wanda cares a lot about what happened in Lagos and what you think of her. She confesses her feelings for you when she's not doing well.

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iamumbra195 · 6 months

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it feels like you stand upon the belly of a ferocious beast. the rumbles knock you to your knees, but the tremors don't cease for a second. the loud hissing and whining from the rocks only seem to grow. the sounds clawing their way into your heart. white hot light. the scalding, red erupts into a towering mountain reaching up into space. it falls. the impact topples trees and twists the terrain into something unimaginable. the air is boiling and the air is heavy with chemicals no one should ever have to encounter. the temperature climbs, and suffocating blankets of ash end any poor creature who was walking at that moment. but you are resilient. you are still here. and as spitfire rains from the darkening sky like stars falling from the heavens, you are sure. you'll make it much longer than anyone thought you ever could.

The terrain is unrecognizable. You hike through a land once filled with man-made skyscapers that towered over the skies themselves, torn down for daring to challenge the mother of creation herself. Where there were once paved streets and the overwhelming stench of humanity, there is warm rock and volcanic ash that hung heavy in the air. You wondered why the molten lava that had cremated everything as you knew it seemed incapable of eating through your mortal flesh but you had never been one to ask questions. It was simpler to adapt, to morph yourself into a creature suitable for your environment. It was the only way to survive. And who was there to ask? The skies? The earth? To gain their attention was to incite their anger; they had never been fond of humanity after all. Your father had alway cautioned against asking unnecessary questions, a lesson he instilled in you through the circular glossy scars that littered your collarbone when the stench of alcohol poisoned the air of your decrepit old apartment. Who's to say the earth would not open itself and swallow you, burning you in its core as it had all the others? You've never been particularly fond of pain.

#I don't even know what I was doing lol #but this was kinda fun #ask #@queenmynx #your writing style is wonderful and poetic #but mine is so different lol #I got a random idea that we can write random snippets of two ppl surviving like the mass instinction of humanity #but it's so vague that you don't really know much #and then they meet #and we just go from there #writing #second person perspective

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goblin-writer · 11 months

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A Choice of Purpose

Their appearance was unexpected. Classically devils are meant to look seductive, powerful, maybe have red skin and horns that curve above their head. And they are meant to smell like sulphur.

Instead, standing before you, was a man in a grey suit. Not shiny or expensive, but drab and threadbare. His eyes listless and his skin looking as paper under office lights. Altogether you weren’t entirely sure that he was a devil and not just another of the many office workers that spent their days listlessly in front of a glaring screen.

“Finally. My colleagues told me about you. In the market for some change in your life? A step up from your wallowing existence? I have just the thing for you.”

His words danced around your mind even as his voice slipped out of your mind in an instant. It wasn’t that he looked unpleasant but you had trouble looking at him as he spoke. Although you had laboured unsuccessfully for months. That fantasy of a starving artist, not romantic but fevered and tragic. They had inspired you as a child, reading of the exploits of Erich Zahn, or Mr Scott, or that unnamed photographer. Now it all seemed to much. That prideful calling toward standing alone in your unacknowledged glory.

But it was too little. And so, you turned to the fourteen sins and virtues. Taking what little money your work gave you and toured the world. Making your way through holy sites and dens of sin. Hoping that an angel or a devil would cut you a deal to alleviate those dreams that burnt you and for which you had very nearly broken yourself over.

None had come. You stood in rose coloured light, walked through the desert, and climbed mountains. You had stood in shareholder meetings, lain in drug dens, and feasted when all reasonable people had gone to bed. Devil and angel had remained steadfastly absent. You had returned home. The streets now unfamiliar and the people pale comparisons to you. Waking with the sun and sitting on a chair until the day was nearly out.

You had stood before one of those steel and glass buildings that was never lit at night and wondered how they manage. People passed you, not noticing you. Glassy eyes glued to their destination or their phones. Moving with rote mechanism. Some people still smiled and looked about with bright eyes, shining, sparking, but there were so few of them.

You were ready to give it all up when that man, in his grey suit waved to you.

“Which colleagues?”

“The devils, and to a lesser extent the angels.”

“Which are you?”

“Does it matter that much? Both sides find me amenable to work with.”

“So you are neither.”

“Not at all. I am firmly devilish.” You nodded

“I had expected you to look different.”

“Most people do – But we aren’t here to discuss the lack of horns. You wanted a deal.”

“I want to feel less. Not emotions but -,” It is difficult to put into words.

“Not emotions but desires. That calling that haunts you, that burns you, that threatens to consume you.” It is all you can do to nod., “Well I can help with that.”

“But you aren’t one of the sins.” His smile didn’t slip even though it was clear that he didn’t like what you had said.

“I am Acedia incarnate.” Your eyes met his lacking all understanding. He sighed, “Take my deal and you will be able to put that fire in your chest to rest. You’ll be comfortable and kept.”

You wondered how that felt. You had a desire to create, to inspire. Not necessarily inspire more creation, maybe fear, maybe even its superior – caution. Looking at the sky you took a deep breath.

And stopped.

The smell of the city was gone. All around you it smelled like fluorescent light and the burning of laser printers. There was a monotony promised with it. But was that what you wanted? A life of dull routine, boredom, and watching your dreams wither. The devil, that much was clear now had extended his hand.

After all was said and done you walked away from the building. Already you forgot the devil that had stood there with his outstretched hand. He faded quickly into the crowd of suits and empty eyes around him. Had you taken his hand? You didn’t quite remember.

Months later, now with somewhat steady work and employment with a newspaper you had a strange thought. Acedia. Taking out a small orange pen you jotted the name down and smiled as you got back to work.

---

Thank you @flashfictionfridayofficial for a lovely prompt. Very much enjoyed writing it.

#flash fiction friday #original writing #devils making deals #to stave of ennui #second person perspective #i sincerely hope you enjoyed #i had a blast #much love delicious reader

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breathofmyown · 10 months

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"I'll never let you die", she'd said once, her eyes alight with a frightening intensity. It had shocked you, the terrible certainty in her eyes then. But then the moment passed and you didn't often think about it, about what it might mean to her.

You wake up not knowing where you are. Strange devices surround the slab you've woken up on. Knobs, dials, arcing electricity, bubbling tanks of fluid, the whole expanse of mad science aimed at your prone form. As your head clears and your eyes focus you see a figure approach, and as she removes her googles you realize it's your wife, but... different. Fear starts to creep into you, heart pounding in your chest, gasping for breath like a startled animal.

Her hair is lank and lifeless, skin patchy and pallid, and something in her eyes seems cracked, broken. A gaunt haunted shadow of the woman you love. Your vision flickers, and for just a moment it seems almost like she's something else entirely, her hands dripping with blood, her eyes alight with a raving madness, but then it's gone. The shadow and the terror fade away, and she's how you remember her. That warm smile she always has for you when you've been away lighting up her face.

Why are you here? You remember something bad... scary. You remember pain. But what came before seems to just slip away when you reach for it. Calm seeps into you slowly, and your heart slows, the panicked panting of your breath evens out. Your wife's here, the love of your life, things can't be too bad right?

#vignette #short fiction #ficlet #came back wrong #or became wrong to bring you back?#second person perspective

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starandcloud · 6 months

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Pretty Little Pictures

The autumn air was crisp and nipped at your skin as you sat on that park bench, you listened to the cars whish by and the distant conversations of couples out on a walk. Your hands clasped a disposable coffee cup tightly, as if to steal the heat from the liquid inside. A scarf danced around your neck as you sipped at the coffee, the warm plastic lid met your lips as you drank the warmth within the styrofoam cup. You enjoyed the chilled breeze as you pressed your legs together, hoping to warm them as you waited. You just hoped he wouldn't take to much longer.

"Hey Lovely!"

A voice sounded, the distinct British accent brought a smile to your heart as you stood up. You picked up the bag that rested gently against the wooden bench, carefully putting it over your shoulders you walked towards him. Happy to see his curly hair and soft eyes, happy to see that camera he always has.

"Mylo, it's nice to see you again."

Mainlist

PLP Mainlist

#Pretty Little Pictures #faeriesberries #Short stories #second person story #second person pov #second person narration #second person perspective

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dearestaeneas · 2 years

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Fraud [Arcana]

word count: 719

we’re back, baby!

reblogs>likes!!

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You’ve been in Vesuvia for just under a week now, skirting from inn after inn, friend’s floor to friend’s floor. You don’t mind it as much as you let on, secretly enjoying the looks from passersby you get, hearing their whispers. There they are! I heard they’re a magician, too! The ‘too’ caught you off guard at first. As far as you knew, the magicians had moved to the outskirts of the city, left alone by civilians.

Truth be told, you were more impressed with the image you’d built for yourself: “Magician” is a far more impressive title to hold than “wannabe Magician.” Anywhere else you’d have been pegged immediately as barely a novice, this newfound respect being something you weren’t eager to relinquish.

“What’re ya here for?” A gruff but not unpleasant voice asks. As you’re coming back to your senses, you’re finally aware of the simple fact that you’ve been blocking an ever-growing line in front of a bread stall.

“Oh, uh…”

The man looks at you kindly, eyes brimming with sympathy for the pathetic little creature in front of him. He’s evidently used to tourists. Thrusting a warm loaf in your hands, he informs you his kindness has cost you 5 gold pieces. “That seems cheap,” you say, shocked to hear that you’ve found your voice just in time to lose money.

“That means there’s something wrong with it,” a voice says behind you and you can hear the smile in it.

The baker laughs. “It didn’t rise the way it was supposed to.”

Before you can react, you’re gently pulled out of line by your cloak to the delight of the dozens of people behind you. “It’ll still be good,” the voice says, its owner still just out of your eye-line. “I swear, even when he ruins a batch it’s still better than anyone else’s in the city.” The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and you feel heat rising in your face.

A man, just taller than yourself, steps into your peripheral, finally free from the bustling crowd of the marketplace. “You must be the new magician. I’ve heard a lot.” You’re struck immediately by just how…pretty he is. Fluffy white hair falling into bright purple eyes, wide dimples punctuating a bright smile. “So they keep telling me,” you offer lamely.

He laughs and the heat returns to your face in full force. Around his neck is a thick blue scarf, the end of which lifts on its own to reveal a face. You jump back, causing him to laugh again. “My familiar, Faust.”

You feel acid rise in your throat as the snake playfully flits its tongue out toward you. There are still magicians in Vesuvia? You try to calm the panic in your chest. There’s still a way out of this without outing yourself as the fraud you are.A look of concern washes over his face. “Are you alright? She’s friendly, I swear.”

Perfect. “I. Oh, I, uh,” you force out a stammer. “I have a phobia.”

He nods quickly, ushering the snake out of sight. Is she…just gone? You stare at him in wonder, forgetting the fear you were trying so hard to convey. “Where is she?” Your voice is at its normal strength suddenly, your feet stepping forward without your brain’s consent. You have just barely enough time to stop your hands from reaching for him, searching for the reptile yourself.

Looking beyond amused, the man takes half a step back, an eyebrow raised to disappear into his hair. “You don’t know?” He’s teasing. He knows. He knows.

Fuck.

Glancing over both your shoulders, you pull him further into the alley beside the bread stall. “You won’t tell anyone,” you say. It isn’t a command, but it isn’t a question. The plainness of the statement hangs in the air.

“Of course not,” he shrugs. “But I’d be careful.”

“Why?”

“The rumors going around these streets? It’s only a matter of time before these good people start asking you to help them and I don’t think you want to be caught in a lie.”

“Teach me.” The words shock you, tumbling out of your mouth before you can even think them. He considers it for a moment, that same bright smile spreading across his face.

“Sure.”

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firestarwrites · 10 months

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Slow Dance

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: None

Song: "Right Here Waiting" by Richard Marx

Extra Notes: None, but I wish this was reality

It was the evening before prom and your heart was racing like crazy. You had never been so nervous but so excited before in your life. Everything you prepared - from your dress to your hairstyle - was for him.

After a huge fight broke out between your friend group, you realized that having a crush on a close friend was not the way to go. Your feelings faded for your close friend but flared up soon after for a guy in your favorite class. Every day, you dreamed of talking to him or hanging out with him. Everything from his hair to the way he held himself was perfect.

You knew he didn't like you back - I mean, it's common knowledge. Everyone at school knew who he liked and they were not afraid to tell you that. You brushed off those people and continued pining over him. Admittedly, you did start talking to him more in the past couple of weeks after getting his phone number. Now, the moment came - prom. You wanted to ask him but thoughts of him rejecting you filled your mind. You decided to ask him to slow dance if you saw him there.

The day of prom was going at a faster pace than you expected. You asked someone to do your hair in a pretty style, which to you looked very nice. Your dress was in perfect condition without any wrinkles. Your friend offered to take pictures of you in your dress and you agreed. While posing on a bench, you couldn't help but dream about him beside you putting an arm around you. You thought about him the rest of day leading up to that night and how you were going to ask him to slow dance. Would you pull him aside during the song? Would you ask him before you even walked in the building? Oh well, you'd find out when you got there.

When you arrived at the school, your eyes immediately sweeped the place for him. You spotted a bunch of other people through the flashing strobe lights and fog machines, but not him. You sighed and thought maybe he would arrive late. Your friends called you over to dance and you did. When the lights dimmed for the first slow song, you sat down at a table and softly sang along. You didn't have a date after all. You scanned the room again for your crush but came up short.

Halfway through prom, they announced the king and queen. The lights were all on at this time and everyone surrounded the catwalk. Your crush was nowhere to be seen. At this point, you assumed he didn't come to prom. Afterwards, you went home feeling dejected. The dark road was calming to you as opposed to the flashing lights at the school. You turned the radio off and drove in silence to your house. After that, you decided to text him. It wouldn't hurt to, would it?

"Hey, I didn't see you at prom tonight. Is everything okay?" you sent.

"Yeah, I decided not to go. I would just be third wheeling anyways." he sent back, not even a couple minutes later. He usually responds hours later.

Suddenly, a thought struck your mind. What if you were able to slow dance with him after all?

"I know it's late, but do you want to hang out? Prom was boring and I didn't have much fun..." you sent, waiting for a reply.

"You know what? Why not. Send me the location and I'll meet you there," he replied. Your heart skipped a beat and you smiled. You sent him your address and waited for him to arrive.

About twenty minutes later, he came dressed up in a suit. You didn't expect him to dress up but you could feel yourself slowly getting weak. He looked so handsome and you couldn't believe he was here, at your house.

"Let's go over here!" You smiled and led him to your backyard, where a small gazebo sat. It was made out of wood and had fairy lights wrapped along the pillars. There was a bench inside - the same one that you posed on earlier. Your crush smiled at the gazebo.

"I know you're probably tired right now, but I invited you here for a reason," you started.

"It's okay, just tell me," he stood beside you, looking at you and smiling.

"I wanted to slow dance with you," you sure were blunt about it.

"Oh! That was... unexpected," he said. Your heart dropped. You felt like it shattered on the floor when he said that.

"You don't have to. I just wanted to offer," you said, trying not to let the hurt in your voice show.

"No no, it's not like that. It's just... I've never been asked to dance before. That's all," he said, trying to comfort you. "I would love to."

Your heart slowly repaired itself after he spoke those last words. He did want to slow dance after all. You took your phone, searched for a song, and placed it on the railing of the gazebo. A few seconds later, "Right Here Waiting" by Richard Marx started playing.

You took your crush's hand in yours and led him up the stairs to the inside of the gazebo. You smiled softly as the song reached the first verse.

Oceans apart, day after day

And I slowly go insane

"Do you know how to slow dance?" you asked him. He nodded and put one arm on your hip and the other on your shoulder. You matched his movements and began to lightly sway. It was this moment you realized what it felt like to be loved. Even though he did not like you, the gesture was enough to feel something.

Wherever you go, whatever you do

I will be right here waiting for you

Whatever it takes or how my heart breaks

I will be right here waiting for you

The moon shined down on the gazebo as you slow danced. You smiled and he pulled you closer. You glanded up at his eyes and found yourself getting lost in the reflection of the fairy lights. He looked so handsome and his smile slowly melted you. The bridge of the song played and you softly sang along.

"Oh, can't you see it, baby?

You've got me goin' crazy"

Your crush laughed slightly and you could see his pupils dilate. You could tell he was having fun. The song ended and you broke apart.

You sat down on the bench and tapped the place beside it, inviting him to sit with you. He sat down beside you and put an arm around you. If you could physically melt, you would have been a puddle on the ground by now. You put your head on his shoulder and sighed softly while looking out into the darkness of the night. The stars scattered across the sky and a shooting star passed through the shining night.

"Make a wish..." you whispered.

"I wish... for this night to never end. I enjoyed this a lot," he responded. You could feel the vibration of his voice from your position.

"I second that," you said, closing your eyes. He lightly hummed and rubbed circles on your back.

At that point, you felt true peace.

I hope you enjoyed! Tag, comment, and reblog if you want!

#first fic #fluff #angst #writing #casual writing #casual #firestarwrites #firestar #welcome #boyxgirl #reader x boy #original work #original content #2nd person pov #second person perspective #Spotify

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alphaori · 11 months

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You are entwined in battle. Just the two of you, atop the roofs of an empty city, in a quiet world. You are winning. Moonlight catches your blade, a prayer inscribed in steel. You are exhausted, and yet, you know he is too, and knowing it will soon be over brings a lightness to your steps. His dark figure is the last thing in the world. You see your chance, and strike. He tries to dodge, but too late, and you feel your blade pierce through cloth, and then flesh.

There is a moment, when you both struggle to believe it, perhaps, and then you say the words. Oh how long have you waited to say them. A light bursts from you, from your blade, all consuming, brilliant light. Does he scream? Maybe for a moment, but you are not sure. But you do know that he steps forward. Into your blade, towards you. You feel it through the hilt and in your hand, the awful tension of moving flesh. And another step. You cannot move, blinded. Another small step, almost like a fall. He rests a hand on your shoulder. You don't see his face, but you remember it well enough, with its dark, impenetrable eyes. He reaches a hand out towards you, and you don't see it, and don't pull away. He rests it on your cheek, softly, and shattering pain tears through your body, your mind, every thread of your being, every atom split cleanly in half with hot, blinding agony. And you both fall, intertwined. And when you land, there is nothing left. The sun rises, bleak, on a world that is finally forever silent.

#a study in shadows #ori's original writing #ori's originals #my writing #microfiction #post in progress #writeblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing #short story #second person perspective #second person pov

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kindpetalapothecary · 11 months

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TW:missed medication, illness

"I thought I had it under control this time"

"Sorry, what was that?" Lobby had been organizing some bottles on the shelf behind her when she heard you enter the room. You reiterated the sentiment, and her face softened.

"Oh, you mean..." She grabbed some bottles on the shelf behind her, and set them on the counter. "Are you okay? Do you need one now?"

It had been a few months now, but you'd developed a chronic condition that sent you to the apothecary every week for medicine. A trip that usually was only made every three months was now a weekly trip. It was painful, messy, inconvenient, and thousands more words that could be hurled into the abyss.

You nodded and she handed you a bottle, which you took, hands shaking and swallowed ravenously. It would likely take a while to set in still, but at least you'd taken the first step and gotten it down, even if a bit late.

Libby watched this and concern lit her features, but she didn't say anything. She went back to organizing the bottles, saying you should stick around a bit to make sure everything was okay. She continued,

"Are you sure you are alright? Missing your remedy is no joke." She said as she placed heart shaped bottles below some long skinny ones.

You thought to yourself for a moment, then voiced that you had simply been disappointed that you missed something so simple. Something you thought you had been on top of.

"Oh," Libby's face lit up in understanding, "Darling, we all slip up from time to time. The more important question is if your remedy is helpful to you and if you are feeling alright."

After thinking of it for a moment you realized it had been helping. It made a world of difference in your day, and for now, it was what you needed. After voicing this to Libby, she smiled a little.

"I am so glad to hear that friend." She said, handing you the rest of the bottles on the table, "Take these and rest."

As you left the apothecary, she called out your name.

"Please be kind to yourself if you forget again." She said, "I know it is urgent you drink them, but you must give yourself the room to love yourself, no matter what."

#kindness #missedmedication #well not exactly #kind to yourself #fantasy rp #second person perspective #apothecary #worldbuilding

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sm0kedfag · 1 year

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the barrel (21st Feb 2023)