Comic_bookworm
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Caleb Widogast's life is finally looking like it's on track: he's got a good job, his friends are all doing well, he remembers to take decent care of himself, and his familiar is the most popular figure in the Nicodranas library. Things are finally good. But are things ever truly quiet when your friends are The Mighty Nein?
Dr. Essek Theylss has been exiled to the worst place his mother could think of — bright, sunny Nicodranas. Luckily, unbeknownst to her, Essek has a friend there already. Unbeknownst to him, his friend has been impatient to drag him into her shenanigans for a very long time.
(also known as the peak of self indulgent fic)
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Bookmarked by Comic_bookworm
31 Jan 2026
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Merlin spends fifteen hundred years waiting for Arthur's return.
Luckily, he doesn't have to wait alone.
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- 15,592
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by Comic_bookworm
31 Jan 2025
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Martin makes Jon tea for the first time about a week into his transfer. It’s horrible. Gag-reflex inducing. Somehow sporting all the wrong flavors.
For some reason, he does not have the heart to break this to Martin.
Little does Jon know that Martin actually makes wonderful tea. Just not for him.
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“Sure,” Georgie says, still laughing at him. At least someone is having fun. “Don’t you have assistants for that kind of thing?”
“Yes, but…” He huffs, scratching the back of his neck. “I wasn’t going to ask one of them to download an app called...Lover? Lov-rrr? I don’t know how you say it.” He flaps his hands dismissively. “There are--unions and such. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
*
jon makes a fake account on a dating app to investigate a statement. tim sets martin up with fake account on a dating app to boost his self-confidence. it goes exactly how you might expect.
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“What--” He stops to compulsively lick his lips. His back hits the wall-- he’d started backing up at some point and he hadn’t noticed. He can’t tear his eyes away from the man on his couch. No. The creature. “What are you?”
Martin finally looks up from his book. He looks at Jon. He doesn’t look like Prentiss. He isn’t full of gaping holes that should have killed him, he isn’t covered in squirming, shiny white worms, he doesn’t smell like a moldy, rotting corpse. He looks like a pleasant, normal man. He has freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose, his cheeks. Monsters shouldn’t have freckles, Jon thinks nonsensically.
“I’m your boyfriend,” the monster sitting on his couch says, as if this is a matter that is not up for debate, that Jon has no say in.