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Incoming 𪜠for @ doolb on bksy

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Ridley & Sybil
I've polished Ridley's design up a bit, I wasn't too happy with how he looked in my first post of him so here he is with his lovely wife, lol Though, at this point they're not courting yet Sybil is owned by @thecozykirin
Daily Writing Challenge November Day 1: Sweet
@daily-writing-challenge A story based on our mains from BFA! You'll be seeing them a lot soon <3 Small TW for implied / referenced abuse ________________________________________ The rain came sudden over Boralus that day, heavy and relentless. The kind that clogged gutters and churned filth down cobbled alleys in thick rivulets, black as rot and cold as plucked teeth. A thousand rooftops hissed above as Ridley drew his coat tighter, boots scuffing through puddles the color of ale gone flat. He had gone out on an errand for Merrick. Something small. A message. A package, it didnât matter now. Heâd turned the corner toward the crooked loft and spotted her. Sybil was slumped against the alley wall behind the butcherâs, soaked to the bone, and shivering like a plucked bird. âOi,â Ridley snapped, already striding toward her. âWhatân th'fuck are you doinâ out here?â
She didnât answer, she just blinked at him with those eyes, one lavender, one brown, and tilted her head slow, like she was listening to something only she could hear. ââŚâm fine,â she mumbled. ââM just waitinâ. Waitinâ for th'street tâswallow me.â
âBullshite,â he grunted, crouching. âYou ainât fine. Yer lipsâre blue.â
She made a noise. Not quite a laugh, but not quite a sob either. âHe said I talked too much. So I stopped.â Her voice was thin, breaking at the edges. âNow he says I look too sad. So I came out tâbleed it into the rain.â
Ridleyâs fists clenched.
Fucking Merrick.
He looked her over. No bruises today, at least none he could see, but her feet were bare, red with cold, and her fingers were locked stiff around the frayed hem of her shawl. âCâmere,â he muttered, sliding an arm behind her back. âWe ainât doinâ this out 'ere.â
Sybil didnât resist as he gathered her up, nor did she protest when he hooked his other arm beneath her knees and lifted her like she weighed less than a fawn. She just breathedâshallow, and hitching. âYâreek of pipe smoke,â she murmured against his collarbone.
âAnd y'smell like a drowned rat,â he shot back, teeth grit. âSâpose we make a good match.â
She was quiet for a beat, then whispered: âSweet, that.â
Ridley froze for just a blink. ââŚWhot?â
âCarrying me. All rough anâ ugly anâ angry about it. Itâs sweet.â
He scoffed, but it came out thin. âAinât nothinâ sweet 'bout me.â
âStill is,â she said softly. âEven sugar tastes bitter if you burn it.â
The streets blurred around them, Boralus groaning under the weight of rain and rot, but Ridley didnât stop walking until he reached the loft. The old stairs creaked under his boots, and the door squealed open with a push of his shoulder before slamming shut with a kick of his heel. He laid her down in front of the hearth which was just ash and cold stone now, but itâd doâand stripped off his coat to wrap around her. She didnât move. ââŚYou hungry?â he asked.
âNo,â she whispered.
âYou hurt?â
âNo.â
He paused, then knelt beside her. ââŚWant somethinâ sweet?â
She turned her head. âAye.â
And that night, Ridley stood over the brazier stirring a pilfered tin of condensed milk and stale oats into something clumsy and hot and laced with honey he'd pinched off a stand in the market a week back.
Sybil watched from the floor. Still quiet, but shivering less now. When he brought her the mug, she didnât say a word. She just sipped from it, then blinked. ââŚBurned it.â
âYeah,â Ridley muttered.
She took another sip. âStill sweet.â
Life in Boralus
A little rp sketch. Elu and Deleria secret meetup. Or not so secret?

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Ambient Azeroth: Boralus- Lord Admiral's Rest
Sobie cykam sesyjki w Azerotcie. SwojÄ drogÄ mam pomysĹ na coĹ wiÄkszego w zwiÄ zku z tym. ^^
Proudmoore Admiralty Stallion âThese sleek white stallions are the few mounts allowed to embark on Kul Tiran ships.â