mythicmint



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    There are another loud series of beeps, and Alhaitham’s eyebrows are pinched together, his mouth set in a tight line as he turns to look towards the construct, before he looks back at Kaveh, expression pained and tight.
    “I’m sorry,” he says, voice trembling with strain, and no, please don’t leave me, please don’t let me go-

    Kaveh and Alhaitham get trapped in a cavern together.

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    04 Aug 2026

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    “What,” said Crowley, the hinges of her jaw suddenly not quite working the way they should, “are you wearing?”

    Aziraphale startled and immediately drew the open button up pyjama top around her. “Oh, you know. Nothing. Nothing of note. Pyjamas.”

    It wasn’t bright enough to see it, but Crowley could hear the blush on Aziraphale’s voice. But what Crowley had seen in the dull moonlight wasn’t even in the same ballpark as nothing of note. She groped wildly for the lightswitch behind her, her mouth cracking into a grin.
    -
    When 20-year-old Crowley sees Aziraphale for the very first time she's piss drunk, and backed by a chorus of absolute menaces who fancied themselves her friends. An inauspicious start grows into something miraculous. Years after their first meeting, Aziraphale still manages to surprise her.

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    17 Jul 2026

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    Lae'zel and Shadowheart are notorious in their party for two things - being both exceptionally good at their roles, and being, at all times, a hair-breadth from killing one another.

    Or so they would have their party think.

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    11 Jul 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Astarion wouldn't dare compare Gale’s very clearly lovingly maintained kitchen to a campfire and a chest of pilfered cheese and stale bread. But the feeling of it, the easy companionship, sharing the day’s burden of woes with someone who understands? That's familiar. And that, he didn't even realise he missed. Only now, watching Gale potter around his kitchen and chatter in much the same way he used to potter around the cookpot, Astarion feels… settled.
    Maybe even comfortable.
    Oh.
    Oh dear.
    Before he can stand and take his leave, go back to the contract in Calimshan and pretend this embarrassing little episode never happened, Gale sets a goblet down in front of him.
    Just in passing. Drops it off on his way to the teapot. Like he thinks nothing of it.
    But it's blood. Fresh, too. Pig, if Astarion's nose can be trusted, which obviously it can. He takes a tentative sip. Then downs the rest before Gale has finished pouring his tea.
    “It's warm,” Astarion says, nonplussed, staring at the now-empty goblet. It would be beneath his dignity to lick it. He's no starving wretch now. But it is tempting all the same.

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    09 Jul 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 47

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    The bookshop is on fire.

    The thermos is empty.

    I lost my best friend.

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    29 Jun 2026