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iamthecomet · 6 months

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Comet something you said in an ask you answered stuck with me "Aether & Mountain can't share a bunk together" & ive not been able to stop thinking about like, what if they still tried anyway?

The 2 big boys on tour just suddenly have a real craving for eachother that can't wait & that no one else can satisfy, but they are stuck on the tour bus for the next few nights? Them squeezing in together, pressed so close. Giggling as they whisper & shh eachother as they get eachother off with the minimal movement the tight space will allows them?

I definitely have some thots. (700+ words of them).

They should have probably waited to get to a hotel. But it’s days away, and Aether can’t take it anymore. Can’t take the smell of Mountain reaching him from one bunk away–across the hall. The smell of evergreen and juniper swirling around him but just out of reach.

The bunks are small–too small for both of them honestly. But Aether doesn’t really care. Not with how Mountain is pressed up against him.

They’re face to face, Aether’s back pressed tight to the bus wall behind him. The curtain behind Mountain is just barely pulled closed. Aether should be uncomfortable. He isn’t.

Mountain’s knee is between his thighs, pressed up tight against his clothed cock, hard and dripping already. Mountain’s head is tucked under his chin. Horns glamored away to prevent any unfortunate accidents as he mouths at Aether’s throat, licking away sweat and desire.

Mountain ruts his hips against Aether, whining at the friction–good but not enough. Aether shushes him, laughter on his lips as he does.

It’s late, there’s little risk of waking anyone up at this point. But Aether doesn’t feel like being the subject of one of Copia’s be respectful of each other, the bus is very small morning talks. He tries to pull Mountain a little closer but it doesn’t exist. He digs his fingers into the earth ghoul’s spine and sighs as Mountain shifts, dragging his thigh over Aether’s cock again.

“Touch me,” Mountain whispers.

It takes an incredible amount of effort for Aether to slide his hand between them. But he manages. First shimmying his own pants down just enough to free his cock, then doing the same for Mountain. Just a little. Shifting just enough that he can press them together.

Curling his hand around both of them and stroking. Twisting his hand around their sticky tips. Mountain groans, low, a little too loud but Aether can’t be bothered to worry about it when it sounds so good pressed against his collarbone.

“Help me out, Mount,” Aether whispers, voice already hitching as he rocks his hips into his own fist. He doesn’t have a lot of space to do it, but it’s good enough. The slide of his cock over the hard ridge of Mountain’s is perfect. He feels like his veins are catching fire.

Mountain wiggles a little, shoving his hand down between them and gripping both of them in one big hand just below Aether’s fist. Mountain rolls his hips and keens. Low and wounded and Aether has to shush him again.

“Mount, you gotta–shh,” Aether hisses.

“Can’t help it–fuck–wanted you so bad. Needed this for days.”

Aether nods. He knows. Lucifer does he know. He’s getting close already. Toes curling, pleasure zapping up his spine and through his veins. Balls drawling up as he fucks into Mountain and his own fist. Aided by copious amounts of pre-cum from both of them. The counter rhythm they’ve created makes a slick noise with each thrust. Fuck, Aether really hopes everyone else really is asleep.

Mountain picks his head up, straightens up enough to press his forehead to Aether’s. Aether meets emerald eyes. They breathe the same air, tasting lavender and juniper.

Aether’s going to cum. Right now. The realization takes him by surprise. He feels the whine bubbling up in his chest just as he starts to twitch, to squirt. He surges forward. He seals his mouth over Mountain’s. Letting Mountian swallow his noise as he makes a mess all over their stomachs and hands. Licking filthy into Mountain’s mouth as Mountain follows him over. Whimpering deep in his chest. The worst of the sound muffled by Aether’s tongue.

They could clean up–should. But Aether’s body feels boneless, floating. Content in a way he hasn’t in days. Sleeping together in this bunk is no more comfortable than jacking each other off but Aether doesn’t care. He catches his breath, kisses Mountain one more time. Nuzzling their heads together like he would if their horns were in play.

“Roll over,” Mountain orders. And Aether does. It takes some work but eventually his forehead is pressed to the cool bus wall and Mountain is curled up behind him. Knees curled together. Mountain’s head tipped into the soft hair on the back of Aether’s neck. Mountain kisses him there, soft enough to bring goosebumps to Aether’s skin. “Is this ok?” Aether asks.

Mountain chuckles, breath warm against Aether’s back. “It’s perfect.”

#Comet writes #ficlet #herbal quintessence #Mountain/Aether #Aether/Mountain #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #tour bus sex #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #ghost band fanfiction #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction

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jayhoang-the-astral-idiot · 2 years

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Coat and Gloves (Valorant Fanfic)

I got bored with some severe writers block on Brimstone This Was A Mistake so here's a funni story

oh boy i got writers block on this too oops

———

"Dammit, where'd I put that damn coat..."

Vexx had been looking for his leather coat (and gloves, which he'd put in the coat's pockets) for half an hour now. He had a mission to go on soon and he needed to look the part and have his supplies on hand.

"Vexx, where are you? We need to get going." He heard Brimstone's voice crackle through his communicator.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'..." He circled back around to his room to see if he'd left it lying in a corner or something.

As he walked through the hallway, he overheard something from Skye's room.

"What d'you think, Tazzie?" Skye asked, presumably to her Trailblazer, who she and the rest of the VP (including himself) affectionately called Tazzie.

"Oh, Skye's in her room. I should ask her if she's seen my coat anywhere." He walked over and nudged open the door. "Hey, Skye, you know where my coat i..."

Vexx was greeted by the sight of Skye, wearing his coat, which was a bit too big for her.

Skye’s face began to flush after she turned and realized she got caught. “Uh- It’s not what it looks like!”

Vexx stared at her silently, in surprise at her stealing his coat and how… cute she looked in it… Wait, what is he thinking?

“I- um… Can I… can I get that back?”

“O-oh, yeah, here you go…”

Vexx grabbed his coat and put it on, pulling the gloves out of his pockets and snapping them on after. “Um… by the way…”

“Huh?”

“You- uh-” Vexx stumbled over his words, feeling his face get hot. “You look nice in my coat. I’ll getcha one, if ya like.”

Skye’s eyes widened, and she quickly looked away, trying to hide the fact her face was getting redder. “Uh, thanks, but you don’t have to…”

Vexx smiled at her. “Nah, I insist. I’ll even get a lil one for Tazzie!”

Skye looked back towards him. “You’d do that for me?”

“Why wouldn’ I? That pretty face of yours was positively shining in that coat, and I’d like for it to stay that way!” Vexx beamed. Skye’s face flushed even further, and soon, so did Vexx’s as he realized what he said. “Oh, uh, I gotta go! See ya after my mission!”

Vexx nearly ran out of her room, and down the hallway. Shit, fuck, shit! What in the Sam Hill was I thinkin’, sayin’ that? His face was bright red by the time he got to the jet to head to the mission, eliciting a couple questioning looks from the others he was going with. All he could do was sit down and put his face in his hands.

Meanwhile…

Skye stood in shock for a while, and then walked over to her bed and screamed into her pillows. “He’s so nice... and he said I have a pretty face... Ah, shit, Tazzie, what do I do?”

———

and that’s the fic, some funni herbal liqueur shenanigans

Brimstone, This Was A Mistake chapter 6 coming out soon i prommy

@flooficandii @l-sincline @thecreativewolf heres a litol fic

#valorant #valorant vexx #valorant oc #vexx #valorant skye #skye #valorant fanfic #herbal liqueur #skye x vexx #oc x canon

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catsconflictscopicsandchamomile · 1 year

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anyone have thoughts on using Lamb's Ear (the plant) as a sympathetic-magic substitute for the lamb's blood used in the Passover story?

for context this is for cosplay, fanfic AND my original story

#worldbuilding #writers resources #sympathetic magic #folk magic #herbalism #apotropaic #warding spells #OP Makes Stuff #judaism #christianity #folklore studies #mythology #cosplay #original fiction #fanfic writer #rp #probuilding #mixed-media

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dotster001 · 1 year

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Hello! I really liked your fanfic about mistletoe and I would like to submit my application. Can you write what type of girl the characters in the twisted wonderland like?

What Kind of Girl they Like

Summary: Fem! Reader What girl the twisted wonderland boys say they will fall for, versus who they will be attracted to.

CW: Fem! Reader, some of the boys are assholes with their answers, it's explained away in the who they end up with section, so take it with a grain of salt, also these are just my opinions. If you don't agree that's ok!

A/n:it is truly humbling how few of these I actually fit the description of 😭 also, feel free to send in an ask if you want the staff and non nrc boys, or a masc. Reader version (there are some differences for some of them for a male lover)

Masc Version gn! Version

Heartslaybul

Ace Trappola

What he says

"I dunno, she'd have a great bod and make me sandwiches. Kidding! Sevens, don't glare at me like that, I was just messing with ya! She's probably smart, and sweet as sugar, and let's me get into trouble. And a great bod wouldn't hurt- hey don't throw stuff at me!"

Who he ends up with

Ace is going to be naturally attracted to a girl he can "bring out the worst in." She probably starts out shy and quiet, then Ace adopts her into his friend group, and now they are sassing each other back and forth. She calls him out on his bullshit, and fights against his teasing with teasing of her own. But she also takes care of him when he's down. He's hiding a lot of insecurity under his cool guy exterior, so if she lets him snuggle, and lets him whine, and then whispers how much she loves him, he'll be a happy man. Also, side note, he's fine if you like sports, but if you know nothing about basketball, it means he gets to look really good when you come to his games. Just saying….

Deuce Spade

What he says

"Huh, I've never really thought about it. Um, I guess she's nice and funny, and isn't scared of my past. I'd also want her to be a little like you, Y/N….not that I like you! Well, I like you, not like like you, shit I'm sorry! This isn't sounding any better…"

Who he ends up with

He really means it when he says he wants someone like you. You're one of his first friends, and, in his mind, the person you date/marry should be your best friend. But if it's not you he ends up with, he will probably be attracted to a girl who's book smart, but less street smart. A little "dumb" like him, in a cute kind of way. He likes a cuddler, and maybe a girl who is shorter than him so that he can feel like he's swallowing her whole when he wraps his arms around her. Also, someone who encourages him and helps him with his homework/paperwork.

Riddle Rosehearts

What he says

"I don't have time for a relationship right now….but I think I want someone well behaved who follows the rules- what are you smirking at? Just because you're a rule breaker doesn't mean every girl is. I'd also like her to be in the medical profession. You know, someone who works the same profession as me so we have similar interests."

Who he ends up with

As much as he hates to admit it…he's attracted to rule breakers. Not as bad as Ace obviously, he's not trying to go gray early. But if she says something like "let's have a non herbal tea" when it's time for only herbal tea…damn what a rush. By the time he gets serious with someone, he'll be confident enough in himself to cut ties with his mother, so she has to be strong willed, and willing to live off of a low budget for a while. He'll need someone understanding, who knows he'll have relapses and be too much and too angry sometimes, and she has to be understanding of that, and encouraging of improvement, or he'll live with guilt for the rest of his life.

Trey Clover

What he says

"Someone who's willing to settle down and grow fat and old with me. You're laughing, but I'm going to be running my parents bakery, and feeding people is my love language. Speaking of, you better finish off that slice of cake before the others steal it."

Who he ends up with

Trey isn't that picky. He really means it when he says he wants someone to get old and fat with. That's his dream. Running a bakery with his wife by his side, and growing old together as your own kids grow up and bring home their own spouses. But he also wants a girl he can blindside with his sadistic side. Someone who'll enjoy that side of him, but also someone who easily forgets it's there. It makes things more fun for him.

Cater Diamond

What he says

"Ha ha someone trendy and totes hot. Someone totally cammable. Aw, are you jealous? Don't worry, you'll always be my fave girlie, even if you're not the girl I love."

Who he ends up with

Cater wants someone who won't disappear when he looks away. Yes, if she's "cammable" that's the first thing he's looking for, but when all is said and done, if she seems like she's going to be flaky, he won't take it too seriously either, as a defense mechanism. He needs a girl with mental endurance, because he's going to spend the beginning of the relationship trying to scare her off. Not that he wants to, he just needs to know he won't be left alone like he usually is. He is going to be attracted to a girl who humors his trends and magicam addiction, but who also sees through him. Someone balanced. She sees the real Cay Cay, but she's also willing to be his "trophy wife" online.

Savannaclaw

Jack Howl

What he says

"Oh, I uh, well someone who can keep up on a run with me I guess…"

Who he ends up with

Jack says he wants someone who can work out with him. And he would really be happy if he had a girl who was as active as him…but he'd also be happy with a curvy girl. He gets blushy thinking about holding someone soft and plush against his firm muscles. But he's flexible. In the end he won't choose his future wife based on appearance and activity. Wolf beastmen mate for life, so the main thing he is looking for is loyalty. Loyalty, and someone who would want to raise lots of kids with him. As long as you have those two traits, nothing else really matters to him.

Ruggie Bucchi

What he says

"Girlfriends are expensive, shihihi. Tell you what, you find me a lady with sticky fingers, and we'll eat the rich together."

Who he ends up with

This is a deflection. Ruggie loves the idea of a busy business wife, while he is a trophy househusband, cooking and cleaning for his high powered lady. He wants a strong woman who will scratch his ears and tell him he did such a good job! Then he'll draw her a bath, and massage her feet as she tells him about her day, then they'll snuggle and make out until they fall asleep…that's the dream anyway. He can be a little worker bee until you rise through the ranks, which you will, Ruggie has absolute faith in you. You guys can rob people early on if you have to. In short…Ruggie wants a dommish woman who will call him a good boy and keep him well fed.

Leona Kingscholar

What he says

"Body pillow"

"That's not-"

"Body pillow"

Who he ends up with

He's going to be attracted to a strong woman who whips his ass into shape. Someone who says, "Hey bitch, you're going to therapy, cause I love you and want you to be happy!" And then she actually makes him go. And when he does go, she rewards him with snuggles, and soft kisses. He wants a woman who's never scared of him, who's self assured, and is certain and vocal about her feelings for him.

Also, she has to accept that nighttime is when she's a body pillow. That's an absolute must.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

What he says

"Why do you wish to know? Are you attempting to reach my standards? Ha ha, let's see. A woman who is ethereal, who is willing to dress stunningly, and sit in my lap when I make deals, so that competitors can see what a high value man I am."

Who he ends up with

If that didn't make you want to throw up 🤢. He'll be attracted to someone who makes him feel beautiful in subtle ways. He knows how easy it is to spin a verbal web of lies. But there's some things you can't fake. Like allowing someone to rest on your lap, and caressing their hair. Or squeezing someone's hand gently when you have to let go. Or pressing a kiss to someone's cheek after you help them straighten their outfit. It's the soft romantic moments that'll speak to Azul when he finds his love. Aside from that, he's not looking for anything in particular. Just someone who makes him feel loved and beautiful.

Jade Leech

What he says

"Fu fu who's to say? Perhaps you are the woman of my dreams. Or not."

Who he ends up with

She's a woman who can see through him. She's someone who never compares him or confuses him for his twin. She's smart. Very smart. She eats his mushrooms and goes on hikes with him. She is patient with Floyd. What Jade is looking for….is female Jade. Someone like that is the only one who can truly keep up with him.

Floyd Leech

What he says

"Aw Shrimpy! Are you worried? Don't worry, whoever she is, I'll still squeeze ya!"

Who he ends up with

He's looking for someone fun. That's his only criteria. At least that's what he says. He can't be sure if he loves her because she's fun, or if she's fun because he loves her. In that sense, it's sort of a soulmate situation for Floyd. Whatever will be will be. He'll just know.

…

Also she has to be squeezable.

Scarabia

Kalim al Asim

What he says

"I love everybody!"

"But-"

"Have some of this ice cream, it's amazing!"

Who he ends up with

He wants someone he can spoil, but he doesn't know that. It's something in his subconscious. He doesn't want things in exchange either. So she has to be someone who is okay with being spoiled, and doesn't feel guilty about it. He's going to be attracted to someone who loves life like him, but also helps to keep him grounded. And if she has a spark of danger in her, oh man, he'll be simping so hard.

Jamil Viper

What he says

"I'm not going to even think about it until my freedom is assured. Kalim has promised, but it would be irresponsible to force someone into servitude with me."

Who he ends up with

Jamil is going to be attracted to a hard worker. Someone who's dedicated, and slightly serious. He's also looking for a girl who will see how hard he works, and pampers him from time to time. He's never been in charge of anything, so he likes being the boss of the household. Not that he doesn't see her as an equal! On the contrary, he wants his marriage to be a partnership. But the idea of having somewhere where he is king is definitely something he likes. She can rule the house from as well. They can split the time they rule over the household. They'll take turns being served and pampered.

Pomefiore

Epel Felmier

What he says

"Um, she knows I'm the boss. Wait, that came out misogynistic, sorry I jus mean she knows I'm manly and can support her an all that."

Who he ends up with

He says he wants a cutsie tiny housewife, so that he can be the manly man at the manliest job for mans. He really will be attracted to any girl who doesn't doubt his masculinity, nor call him cute. Someone who tells him that they feel safe and secure with him. He says he wants a short wife. But he's fine with any size or shape as long as she sees him as someone who can care for her.

Rook Hunt

What he says

"Mademoiselle trickster, I can find beauty in every woman."

Who he ends up with

What he says is actually true. He can and will fall in love with every kind of woman. It's hard to say who he will tie himself to, in the end. It'll be someone who he heavily bonds with and imprints on. It's a lot like with Floyd. Essentially a soulmate situation.

Vil Schoenheit

What he says

"Hm. Why do you want to know, potato? I suppose she's professional, and beautiful, and cares about her image enough that she doesn't cause a scandal."

Who he ends up with

The thing about Vil is, he's not that far off from Rook in his take on beauty. He doesn't so much believe in conventional beauty, or societal beauty standards. He knows everyone has an individual definition of health and beauty. When he says he's looking for a beautiful woman, he's looking for someone who's willing to reach her full potential. Or, more accurately, to allow him to help her reach her full potential. Vil never admits it, but he adores pampering and styling people. His love language is helping people look their best. So if she's someone who knows herself enough to know what style she likes, he'll appreciate it, and take up the mantle of doing the hard work, ie making outfits, styling hair and makeup, formulating skin care etc. TLDR, he wants a confident self possessed woman he can dress like a doll, and show off.

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

What he says

"-------------" mutes ipad.

In his head, he doesn't think any woman would ever love him. But his dream woman is a sexy anime cat girl.

Who he ends up with

What he'll be attracted to is someone who is patient, speaks at a reasonable volume, and is assertive enough to make him leave his room. Essentially, winning Idia's heart is a siege. You'll have to starve him out. That's the patience bit. The reasonable volume comes from him being easily scared by loud noises. Assertive enough to make him leave his room…well that speaks for itself. He wants to believe he can be part of the outside world, and the girl he will fall for will be willing to show it to him.

Diasomnia

Sebek Zigvolt

What he says

"She is someone of noble bearing, who shall help me defend my liege!"

Who he ends up with

He'll fall for a woman who is stronger, mentally, physically, etc., than him. A woman who can put him in his place. A woman who speaks, and it makes him shut up, and sit pretty. She's assertive, and can come off as abrasive to others but to Sebek? Sevens, he'd die for a smidgen of her affection.

Silver

What he says

"I don't think it's worth it to try and define the girl I'll fall in love with. There are so many wonderful women, and my father always told me that love is the greatest mystery in this world. Who's to say who I'll fall in love with?"

Who he ends up with

Silver will fall for someone soft. The entire romance will be soft. Soft caresses in the moonlight. Soft kisses in the morning. Soft fingers gently intertwining. She'll be empathetic about his sleep condition, never blaming him since it's not his fault. She'll be gentle with his animal friends. She'll be sweet and kind and the very image of a Disney Princess. I'm picturing Aurora, actually. How ironic.

Lilia Vanrouge

What he says

"Fu Fu Fu wouldn't you like to know."

Who he ends up with

Lilia can and has fallen for every kind of woman. He's lived a long time. He's had the time to romance lots of women. What he'd probably fall for in this stage of his life, is someone he can tease, and play around with, but who is also ready to settle down a little bit. Someone who enjoys the little things in life. He's getting a little old. He wants to build onto his family that he already has. Silver can stand to have three or ten more siblings, right?

Malleus Draconia

What he says

"You."

Who he ends up with

You.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic

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chlorinecake · 22 days

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝟒 — a yang jungwon fanfic

𖤣 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after betraying his trust, yandere!yang jungwon tries his best to maintain a forgiving heart towards you, but things only take a turn for the worse when you foolishly refuse his rules again…

𖥧 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mild-nudity, insinuated food poisoning, abduction themes, suggestive (mentions of self/pleasure and cnc themes), swearing, violence, slow burn, crying, angst

𖡼 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8k ~ Previously ⊱✿⊰

✎ note: In no way does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. I write purely for entertainment and creative purposes. Reader discretion is advised

TWO DAYS HAD passed since Jungwon first confronted you about sneaking out to the greenhouse while he was away at work.

You’re certain your heart nearly pumped out of your chest once those ominous words escaped his mouth, sending a valley of chills down your spine.

Tracing back the steps you took in your mind, you’re not entirely sure how Jungwon even found out about your little adventure anyways…

Still, your soul contented itself to some degree in the simple fact that he hadn’t asked you anything about what you saw in his greenhouse…

Or better yet, what you weren’t supposed to see.

The only time you saw Jungwon in between those days were whenever he brewed you a cup of tea in the morning, or came back home from work to prepare your supper.

A suspicious inkling in your heart remained concerning his reasons for wanting you to drink the mysterious herbal concoction so routinely.

Out of paranoia, you would instead pour the shimmery liquid into the ivy plant on your nightside table, hoping that he’d never find out about it…

At the end of the day, you really did want to trust Jungwon… not that he deserved it or anything… you just felt that trusting him was the very least you could do in return.

…Especially ever since he vowed to never hurt or touch you against your will again…

“I’m sorry,” your voice began at a whisper, somehow sounding loud in the quiet of Jungwon’s presence.

You were currently in the kitchen with him, sitting at the round wooden table while he prepared you a bowl of fresh fruit from his garden.

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, eyes barely visible through his shaggy bangs as his grip around the bowl tightened slightly.

“Sorry for what?,” he asked, not sure as to why you were apologizing.

Did you do something bad without him knowing?

Did you somehow manage to go against his rules right under his nose again?

You could tell from the sudden feeling of tension in the room that Jungwon’s mind started to wander in dark places, so you knew you had to speak fast.

“M-my little incident with the greenhouse… I hope you find in your heart t-to forgive my curiosity…” you stuttered nervously, picking with your nails in your lap.

He remained quiet, breathing pattern still like a wind chime frozen in time as he turned on his heel, eyes still not meeting yours.

You watched as he reached for a spoon to drizzle honey on your breakfast, “Would you like any yogurt or granola with your fruit, love?”

You couldn’t believe he just asked you that, of all things—

“Jungwon, I’m trying to apologize here…”

“I know,” he hummed sarcastically, “and I’m trying to prepare your breakfast…”

“I… I know…,” you repeated with a sigh, hanging your head low now as the tension only grew thicker, “thank you, Jungwon… just the fruit and honey is fine…”

He was pleased with your obedience to his subtle cues, bringing the bowl to you with a silver spoon perched in its side, “You're welcome…”

And with that, the stale morning continued as usual, you and Jungwon barely exchanging any small talk as the nearby sun rose to its fullest extent.

He never explicitly said that he forgave you for sneaking out into the greenhouse that day, but it elated him nonetheless that you took a small step to compliance.

About another hour had passed after you both finished breakfast together before Jungwon received a call from his boss, saying that he could have the day off because of a blackout in the city.

That meant you and him would be spending the entire day together, an occurrence that rarely even happened on the weekends given his busy work life.

Jungwon was always busy, so he claimed… which only made you question how he was able to stalk you all those months before abducting you.

You quite seriously couldn’t believe a single word that escaped his serpentine mouth—

“I want to show you a creative piece I've been working on in my greenhouse for you,” he began with gentle enthusiasm as you two spent some time rearranging the bedroom.

Or more accurately, while you sat on the bed, watching him add three extra locks to your bedroom door.

You didn’t respond yet as you didn’t know what to say, so he busied himself with neatly putting away his work tools before standing up from the ground to meet you.

“I hope you don't mind that I kept the dress you wore on your first day here,” he continued bashfully, “I used it to come up with your measurements for the dress.”

He also used it to please himself in eery hours of the night while he thought of a whiny you squirming beneath him, but he'd rather keep that part private for now...

His freshly calloused hand found yours as he joined the spot beside you on the mattress, pulling you back into the moment with a pleasant expression on his angelic features.

It was a shame how someone so demented could be so beautiful.

“What's wrong, my love? Did you spoil the surprise for yourself that day you went snooping around without my permission?” Jungwon interrogated frantically, worried that the blank expression on your face had something to do with his mentioning of the dress.

And it did, but not for reasons he assumed.

“God, you saw it already, didn't you? Please don't hate me ____, I know it didn't look like much at the time, but—”

“Jungwon—”

“I made a few finishing touches since then, but it looks way better now, I promise... I'm so sorry for not hiding the surprise from you better—”

“Wonie,” you said a little louder this time, making his guilt-stricken eyes soften slightly at your use of a nickname.

He let out a sigh, shaking his head with a light-hearted chuckle before running a hand through his thick brown locks, “Guess I kinda rambled a bit there, didn't I?”

“Just a little,” you agreed, patting him on the back as he rested his elbows on his thighs while sitting.

If only you could feel the way his crooked heart fluttered at your simple initiation of physical touch.

“And I didn't see your project in the greenhouse, by the way... only a naked mannequin and some plants… so please, don’t stress yourself out over that,” you reassured in a soft tone, almost as if cooing to the hurt child inside him…

“I appreciate everything you do for me, Jungwon… you know that…,” you confessed in the stillness, an odd sincerity behind each word.

“Thank you for saying that, my love... but as a committed pair, my duty is to please you, and that's all I could ever aspire to do so long as you keep pleasing me...” his voice trailed off ominously, your eyes watching as little sighs kept leaving his body…

It was a strange thing, really...

Seeing such an intimidating person falter to reverence… insecurity.

You wondered in your mind exactly what Jungwon meant by you pleasing him, but you decided to keep quiet for the meantime instead of asking.

Suddenly, he lifted himself from the bed, turning to face you with a seemingly restored countenance as he spoke, “I can't wait for you to try on the dress though, ____... I just know you'll look absolutely divine once its on you... Ready?”

“Ready,” you smiled, taking his extended hand in yours as he guided you out of the bedroom and to his forbidden greenhouse.

YOUR BODY STIFFENED as stone, your lungs hardly remembering to breathe as Jungwon’s cold hands stripped you of your clothing layer by layer.

You stood in front of him, now only in a washed-out pair of lace panties and thin bralette, a wooden stepping stool placed beneath your feet which strangely resembled a pedestal.

The sound of metal clothes hangers sliding into each other hit your ears as he rummaged through the wardrobe in between one of his gardening shelves.

Meanwhile, your eyes scanned the room before inevitably falling back onto the sight of two mannequins, one whole and another headless.

From the looks of it, you almost couldn’t believe that Jungwon had designed either of the pieces himself, let alone crafted them by hand.

Despite how Jungwon had proved to you multiple times that he was a jack of all trades, his array of skills never seeming to fail.

The red dress you watched him carefully remove from the mannequin was the one that belonged to you.

It’s neckline was made up of fancy lace, dried out field flowers trailing the accented seams.

The waist of the dress was decorated similarly, an array of gorgeous flowers with warm hues floating idly atop the skirt of feathery fabric, ballon-like sleeves completing the look with a mocked neckline.

The piece, in short, was lovely, Jungwon having brought with him a pair of silk white leggings and sliding them up your dainty ankles as would a servant before his queen.

It was evident all over his face that he took such delight in dressing you, hands respectfully adjusting your undergarments and fastening the makeshift zipper up your spine.

With delicate hands, he straightened out the fabric over your shoulders and down your waist as needed before stepping back to get a full look at you.

“My precious blossom...” he began adoringly, observing how the thin material draped over every ethereal curve of your body, and how the coloring palette complimented your natural one as if it were the only dress you were ever meant to wear.

"You're glowing," he almost whispered this time, voice so light that it tickled you when it touched your skin.

“Thank you,” you replied with a similarly gentle tone, not quite sure on how to respond to his enamor for you.

Pacing back towards you, he took your hands in his, looking almost as if he was holding back tears once his feline eyes met yours, “What do you think, my love? Did I do a just job for you?…”

“It’s perfect,” you smiled, abandoning one of his hands so you could swipe the moisture from his eyes, watching as he nearly purred at your action, “I love it…”

“And I’m so happy you do,” he replied, gentle touch grazing your wrist as he continued to admire the view of you in his unique piece.

“I have a question, though,” you started shyly, still watching his face in case there’d be an unpredictable change of emotion.

He simply nodded, feelings as though he was in a sleep-like state from how lovesick he felt right now, “You may continue, my love…”

“Okay,” you went on, swallowing any nerves building up in your throat before speaking, “What compelled you to design such a dress for me in the first place?”

A prolonged silence meddled between you two at the question up until he giggled slightly to himself, confusion washing over you at the sight of his now full-smile.

“Has it really been that long, love,” Jungwon asked in a half-serious tone, “for you to not even remember anymore?”

“Remember what?” You asked back, using the most polite voice you could muster.

“Remember that you’re my little flower, silly,” he smiled eerily, pinching one of your cheeks in a way that triggered a fear response within you.

Fortunately though, you did a good job of concealing it this time…

I’m not a flower, Jungwon, a voice similar to your own weakly choked out in desperation, trying to trigger a memory.

“I…. I’m not sure I fully understand,” you admitted, not even aware of how your legs stiffened, or the way your heart started to pulse as if you’d just been in a fight.

“Your rebuttal,” he clarified, “in the woods that day… it rang true to my ears,” he said, still tracing your skin with his touch.

“Jungwon—”

“Let me finish… please,” he interrupted sternly before tilting his head at you. “You brought something very important to my attention that day… and it was that every flower ought to have petals…”

He stopped in his words, hoping that you would understand, and to some degree, you did.

All of this, from day one… was to make sure that you, as his flower, blossomed accordingly…

The tea he ‘watered’ you with every morning…

The rays of sunlight he valued synonymously with any other form of nutrition you received…

The dress he designed for you with his own hands…

And the initial nickname he graced you with since as long as you could forget…

Jungwon loved you from the depths of his stony heart, and he had a very strange way of expressing it to you at times.

Though, now that you were complete with a set of more petals than he could possibly count, the last step was for Jungwon to make sure he took good care of you so you wouldn’t wither away…

So you wouldn’t have to perish like the last girl did…

THAT EVENING, JUNGWON brought you back to the garden just outside the main cabin on the land lot.

You sat quaintly, hands folded in your lap as he toiled in the flower bed, the knees of his dark blue jeans turning dark with moist soil.

"You look rather bored," he started, a glint of playfulness in his eyes, "care to give me a hand?"

"Sure," you replied apprehensively, getting up from the wooden bench you sat at and joining him at the seedling patch.

"See that shovel over there," he asked, directing your attention to its auburn handle a few feet away from you, "use it to sprinkle a bit of fertilizer over these here flowers, please."

"Okay," you obliged, a little grunt escaping you as you reached forward to grab the shovel, Jungwon's eyes trying their best not to follow the curve of your outstretched figure, the sounds you made doing enough to tingle his imagination.

"Is everything alright? You look warm," you said, observing the slight hue rushing to the apple of his cheeks.

"Oh- No, I'm alright," he said with a reassuring smile, reaching in his side pocket to pull out a pair of gardening scissors.

You busied yourself with sprinkling the flower bed with fertilizer, meanwhile, the distant sound of Jungwon snipping a few plants filled your ears alongside the peaceful melody of songbirds.

Your mind couldn't help but think of the day he made you kill one of their kind... the day he made you steal another creatures freedom, just as he had done to you-

"What're you picking?" You asked, not meeting his eyes as you dusted a bit of dirt from your hands.

"Just some herbs for your tea," he answered in a quiet voice, focusing most of his mind on the task at hand, "the ones in my greenhouse withered out somehow, but I'm glad I had a few back-up plants out here..."

Your eyes followed as he continued to snip, colorful leaf and flower bud remnants falling into the mini mortar bowl he held in his free hand.

"Do you recognize all the plants you farm by name?"

"Pfft... of course I do," he chuckled, "I've been a man of the garden my whole life," he added. "These purple ones here are called valerian, the vibrant ones passion flowers, and the red ones are poppy's... though, I often mix these with berry brews in your tea..."

You took a mental note of the names he listed, "And do you have a botanical book by any chance-"

"You're asking a lot of questions again, love," he said, voice sounding a bit cold even though his face remained just as friendly.

"S-sorry," you apologized timidly, hanging your head low as the evening wind picked up, blowing sprinkles of wildlife into the air as Jungwon turned his head to avoid getting anything in his eyes.

"Let's head back inside now," he said softly, "it's getting late."

You got up from the ground, holding your day-dress at either side of you as if it already hadn't been soiled from the soggy flower bed, Jungwon guiding you back to the cabin with a protective hand around your waist as the wind continued to beat at your backs.

Promptly upon being met with the warmth of the main cabin, Jungwon locked the door behind you two before making his way to the kitchen where he set a kettle on the stovetop.

Meanwhile, he had ran you a bath so you could get washed up in the nearby restroom down the hallway, cleaning yourself with haste and changing into a fresh pair of clothes.

The tea kettle was whistling angrily in a matter of minutes, Jungwon having crushed the collection of herbs and berries with the pestle in his bowl and pouring the scalding water right over it.

With a skilled hand, he drizzled a bit of honey at the bottom of your teacup, transferring the brew right over.

Clink... clink... clink.

Jungwon gave the mixture a few stirs with a metal spoon before deciding to himself that it was ready.

"____," he called after you from your bedroom in a sing-songy voice, waiting for a now-refreshed you to meet him on the mattress.

The feline eyed boy held the warm cup tenderly in his grasp just as you returned with a damp head of hair and natural glow.

"It's time for your tea, love," he reiterated, scooting over on the bed as you didn't hesitate to join the spot beside him.

He opened your hands before placing the cup within your grasp.

There was something about the expression on his face in this moment... a knowing look displayed on his cat-like features as he eyed you fiercely, waiting for you to take the first sip.

"I added a new ingredient to it this time, too," he went on, breaking the odd silence, "not that you'd even notice a difference in the taste since you never drink it despite my instructions to."

Your heart nearly rolled from your chest and onto the prickly wooden floor at his sudden words.

"W-wha... what did you say," you stuttered nervously, tightening your grip around the teacup.

"Oh, please... you didn't think I'd catch on to the ivy's pot and soil being over-soaked so frequently?" He challenged, shaking his head at you in disappointment that you even thought you could get away with lying to him.

Again.

"The poor thing almost died because of you," he continued, taking in your anxious body language even though your eyes failed to meet his daunting ones.

"I... I don't know what to say," you admitted with a shaky voice, knowing that with Jungwon, it was better to say something, even if it was stupid, instead of saying nothing at all.

He hummed at your reply before speaking again, "So I'll ask you a question instead... how come you never drink it? I mean... you're not a picky eater, so there must be some other reason... isn't there?"

You let out a hesitant breath, "Jungwon, I don't know what you want to hear, but-"

"I don't want to hear anything but the truth, ____," he clarified with an exhausted huff, keeping his eyes on you as if pleading.

"Now don't keep me waiting with your nonsense because you already know how I get when you do that to me..."

“I…I just,” you stumbled over your speech, struggling to maintain eye contact with him as his gaze practically pierced you.

“You don’t trust me,” he finished for you, shaking his head at your failure to even deny it. “You genuinely think that I’d do something bad to you,” he scoffed while clenching his jaw, “even after that pathetic little promise I made to you…”

That’s when you felt the cup harshly leave your grasp, a bit of its liquid spilling onto your lap as he abruptly stood up from the mattress.

A scornful look took over his delicate features, throwing his head back before drinking the tea in one big gulp, wiping the remaining residue from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, “There… you see?! Not that hard, right love?”

You meant to respond but he already paced out of the room by now, coming back in less than a minute with the kettle in his hand, refilling the teacup he’d just drank from.

Smiling facetiously at your nervous frame, Jungwon pushed your legs open with his own, now standing dauntingly between them.

You were still sat on the bed, legs trembling at either side of his thighs as his broad shadow nearly consumed your lesser one, eyes rising to meet his nightmarish face thanks to his hand guiding your chin upward.

You didn't like this one bit, the cold air of the room hitting your core now that your legs were spread open, nor his body being positioned right between you.

He tilted his head, your eyes brimming with fearful tears that every bone in your body tried to push down with the growing lump in your throat that you couldn't swallow.

“So do it then,” he went on sternly, voice not raised but just as impactful, “Take the fucking cup and drink it.”

There was a certain beast imbedded behind Jungwon's contrastingly angelic face... it was always hungry, waiting for whatever enticing peep-hole of a chance was provided for him to squeeze through.

And as perverted as it sounds, that same hole of temptation laid right within you, hidden behind a dainty nightgown that acted as wrapping paper to a precious gift.

With every day that passed, Jungwon could feel himself crawling despairingly closer and closer to its rim, praying that he might someday spill over the edge and be basked in all its glory...

The very glory he placed on your purity since day one, seeking after it as if it'd rescue his corrupted soul.

You had no other choice but to heed to his words, parting your lips with a broken whine as his grip on your face tightened.

He refused to bring the cup to your lips, watching as if entertained once you lifted the cup over his hand, letting the tea meet your dry tongue.

“Swallow it,” he ordered, looking into your eyes before the feeling of warmth hit your stomach almost instantly, the teacup now being empty.

“Wonie,” you choked out, a single tear gliding down the supple curve of your cheek as his free hand set the cup on the nightstand, only to find your lips and toy a thumb at it.

“What is it love?” He whispered in a hoarse voice, peering impossibly close to your face as his grip remained tight.

“I’d like to go to bed now,” you yelped weakly, lips twitching with fear that only continued to multiply within you now that he'd pushed your back against the mattress, caging you beneath him.

“And without supper?” He taunted, whispering these words right under your ear as your hands trembled at his chest.

“Yes,” you blurted out with heavy breaths, “I’m no longer hungry, Jungwon…”

He let your words sink in, taking in just how scared you seemed when he hadn't even done anything yet.

The way you feared Jungwon used to bother him, but now he started to see an advantage in it... an advantage in the way you crumbled into submission before him.

“Very well then,” he said, hands finally leaving your chin with a few red marks still remaining on your skin from the pressure, “sleep well, my love...”

☆ Thank you all so much for reading this piece! I always love how interactive you guys are in the comments with this story and it truly brings a smile to my face !! On a side note though, this part turned out much longer than expected, so apologies for the cliffhanger ;-; ... to be continued hehe ;)

☆ taglist: @squoxle @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @kaykay11sworld @gigiramirezsblog @hoonsyo @en-thralled @night-en-shining-armor @cutiejseong @j-wyoung @nikisvanillaccola @bambangan @wonbyf @4imhry @zhangyi-johee @valhrts @lisaaannna @lovelycassy @addictedtohobi @gardenwons @nikipedia07 @tubatusoobs @clarisabutterfliescupcake @yevene @heecries @rosiemiayyxy @jungwonieee @edgykoo @luvmlkw @idkhoomanmaybe @sunsinmyskies @guessm0del @ayadikreino @destairea @jakehooni @jjungwonss @nikilvr @jays-property @moonchus @angelicjungwon @wonniesdoll @rosiemiayyxy @rinirumi @noviadebeomgyu @pochacco-o @hapeynaaa @ikngh @maspire @mamuljji @hnnhj @legendarycowboywinnerlawyer @enhypenlovre @stxrboyjae @f4irynono @03sunoos @itwasrem @laurradoesloveu @lalalalovelalalasworld @honestimage @ro-0327 @stwberrykooki @heelvrr @wonbinisbabygurl @jungwonloveer @jungwonsmybf @kayoiw @lovelycassy @mrswolfhard3 @theothernads @junieshohoho @wonheartz @jongsbie @candewlsy @kotazuken @moonchus @laurradoesloveu @millieinyourarea @straightondryland

#jungwon hard hours #enhypen #enhypen smut #yandere enhypen #yandere jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon ff #jungwon smut #jungwon angst #jungwon hard thoughts

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misscinnamonroll16 · 3 months

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Headcanons I have after writing my fanfics

At one point in time John and Floyd were the same size. So John Dory has a lot of old clothes that he just gives to Floyd bc they'll fit him

Bruce is the only one of his brothers who is a social butterfly. The rest of the boys have no problem socializing but someone else has to start the conversation

If left in a library unattended, Clay will try and check out ALL the books. He's a huge bookworm

Floyd is super ticklish

If John had his way, none of his brothers would drive Rhonda. Branch and Bruce end up being exceptions.

Floyd is the lightest of his brothers, even after recovering from V&V. John is happy about the fact that he can still pick up one of his brothers.

Floyd spent the majority of the twenty years away living like a rock star. Partying, drinking, and dabbling other substances

John Dory's birthday is October 22nd. Bruce's birthday is February 15th. Clay's birthday is November 16th . Floyd's birthday is June 3rd. Branch's birthday is probably the only one that'll have a canon date so I'll leave it alone

Grandma Rosiepuff taught John Dory how to sew at a very young age, she was trying to keep the small child busy while she took care of his brother (this back before Clay was born)

John knows a lot of herbal remedies from his travels, learning things from the people he met.

John has an immune system of steel. Years of taking care of sick little brothers has hardened his immune system. So when John does get sick, he brushes it off until he is literally unable to function. (I'll probably write a fanfic about this eventually)

Bruce is practically a gourmet chef from how much cooking he's learned and practiced

Despite how much of a bookworm Clay is, he hated school. Always eager to be free from the building.

Sometimes each of the boys faked being sick just to get away from each other.

Between all the brothers, JD and Branch have the most scars, then Clay with a good amount and Bruce and Floyd have very little to none.

John Dory has the Disney Princess Affect ™️. Animals and critters love him. He's the type of guy to gain a stray cat's trust in minutes. (Kinda like Milton Moss)

John has a lullaby that he made up for his brothers when they were babies. He sung it when Spruce was crying one night and it calmed him down. John has never named the lullaby or written it down, he just knows it by heart. All the brothers know the tune but can't place from where and it makes them sleepy.

Bruce can read John Dory like an open book. He's able to notice the little changes in John's face as he reacts to things.

John Dory is touch starved! Someone please give him a hug or a cuddle or something!

#trolls #brozone #trolls john dory #trolls floyd #trolls clay #trolls bruce #branch trolls #trolls headcanon #trolls hcs

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haunted-moon · 5 months

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Long Way Home [Part I]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part I

My first glimpse of Azriel had been when he arrived at my doorstep, searching for the High Lord.

My father was famous in Velaris as a healer, and Rhysand had crashed through the front door—heavily injured and seeking the services of him. Unfortunately for him, I was alone in the house as father had gone to the mountains outside Velaris for an errand. I was mainly a chemist, researching herbs, concocting potions and salves; but I had dragged the half unconscious Rhysand towards one of the beds reserved for the patients.

His injuries were mainly on his wings, they were torn through with arrows. The said arrows seemed to be poisonous, because his skin was quickly losing its pallor. It was my first time treating someone without father by my side, but I had steadied my nerves and my hands enough to bandage the wounds appropriately. Then I made him drink a small cup of herbal antidote for the poison in his system and covered him with a blanket to rest.

As he rested, I cleared wooden splinters and pieces of the broken entrance door (Rhys had literally crashed through) and was erecting a temporary barrier of canvas when the commanders Cassian and Azriel appeared.

Apparently Rhysand had sent them some sort of signal to indicate where he was before passing out. They were relieved to see him in a peaceful rest, and I told them that they could take him back after my father did a once over to make sure he would heal well. That meant one of them staying the night, and Azriel had volunteered to do so.

I had noticed the royalties and members of the inner circle around the town, but it was my first encounter with any of them. Rhysand radiated an aura of pure, lethal power even when injured, and Cassian had the rough, fierce power of a wolf.

And Azriel—well, he was the shadow incarnate, his power being in the way he observed and gathered every bit of information about anything that surrounded him. His intelligence shone through the depths of his dark eyes, drawing in anyone like a moth to candlelight. While we waited for Rhys to wake up, he carried in a new door from the carpenter's workshop and helped me affix it to the entrance.

He was a fae of few words, politely murmuring thanks when I brought over blankets and pillows for him to sleep on the bed next to Rhysand's after dinner. He didn't lie down, instead just bundled himself against the cold with the blankets and kept a patient, quiet watch over his High Lord.

My father returned with the first light of dawn, and Rhysand woke up a couple of hours later. After giving him a thorough check-up, father told him that he would heal perfectly without any scars. I had done everything right, and I was proud.

This incident had led Rhysand into inviting me to the House of Wind and joining the inner circle. He was leaning heavily on Azriel's shoulder, but still had the poise of a powerful ruler as he painted a pretty picture if I accepted—having access to the limitless library, using its resources to gain knowledge in a field of interest and using it whenever needed.

I was hesitant at first, since father would be left alone if I left, but he himself had urged me to accept the offer. In the end, I accepted it with all my heart, and moved in to the House of Wind later that week.

When all the belongings I needed were shifted to my new quarters, I was warmly welcomed as a new member of Rhysand's household. Though I was very shy, none of them made me feel like an outsider and happily took me in, which I was grateful for.

The library was paradise for me. Rhysand arranged for a branched off space in one of its floors to be my laboratory to experiment what I had learnt. Amren helped by bringing me the rarest or the most poisonous herbs, and she never told me how she procured them even after me begging on my knees. I began to be happier, but also more knowledgeable with new healing potions. I divided my week so I could spend at least two days with my dad and the rest in the House of the Wind. All day, I made myself useful by studying and experimenting, or assisting the royal physician in her activities.

Dinner had to always be eaten with everybody, and it was filled with jokes (mostly Cassian), laughter (from everyone), eye rolls at the jokes (from Nesta) and quiet smiles (from Azriel). After the meal, I had to walk beside Azriel to my quarters, his being adjacent to mine.

As days passed, I slinked out of my shell of shyness and mingled with everyone. All except Azriel, of course. I mean, he was of a quiet nature, but I felt like he disliked me. I could see smiles and chuckles and small conversations drawn out of him by everybody but me. He never himself started a conversation with me, and when I tried to do so on the way back to our quarters, he gave disinterested one-word replies.

I told myself that it wasn't a big deal. I had other things to worry about. But when I saw him speaking with someone else in the way I wanted him to speak to me, my chest squeezed painfully. It was especially rough when I saw him catering to Elaine.

I never showed this turmoil on my face, though. Rhysand and Feyre were mates, and her older sister Nesta was Cassian's. It made sense if Elaine was Azriel's mate.

Why then, that just the thought of it made me sad and hopeless?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

Read Part II here.

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beloved-blaiddyd · 1 month

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just a few scribbles of Cafe Owner!Reader x Yandere Dog!Gallagher. Honestly kinda wanna steal her away from Gallagher she's such a calming presence in my mind wijdjwks

Quick fluff-ish brainrots for an upcoming "WhoDrankIt?" (tentative title) coffee shop comic au utc. (cw: slight mentions of animal cruelty)

And no I'm not spoiling why cafe owner!reader went missing or any other major plotlines in these brainrots lmao

Kakavasha and Reader are very close friends ever since they heard each other complain about how hard getting a visa is lmao. The two of them admire each other's love for their family.

In this au, Kakavasha's family lives and he's happily venturing out to work for his parents' more smooth sailing retirement like his older sister. (Y/n), meanwhile, works abroad so she could be the breadwinner of her impoverished family. In a sense, they're very similar.

The two corporate slaves coworkers, Kakavasha and Jelena (Topaz) are regulars in (Y/n)'s cafe. Professor Veritas would sometimes drop by, not too often, to drink some herbal tea. Often claiming his visits are in moderation compared to Jelena, but when looking at the records in his bank account...

The three of them rarely pay by cash. Thankfully buying a card reader was a worthy investment...

(Y/n) just takes Gallagher to the cafe so he doesn't get too lonely at home.

And it's not a bad move. Gallagher is incredibly friendly, often mistaken as an actual cafe staff. He claims he is, but (Y/n) would correct people pronto. When Gallagher first met Firefly and Caelus, he immediately introduced himself as the cafe's security personnel... Which later earned him a proper taxi back home.

No matter how eager he is, (Y/n) really doesn't want people to think she's forcing her dog to work... Especially such an older looking one...

When getting pissed, (Y/n) would sometimes go to the backdoor just to heartily scream obscenities in a foreign language before coming back with a customer service smile. Gallagher thinks it's incredibly hilarious whenever she screams "HAYOP KA!" (you animal!) at the garbage bin.

Most of (Y/n)'s anger comes from her interactions with Sunday.

Won't go into detail to that yet but if their life was a fanfic, Jelena would tag it as "coffee shop au" and "enemies to ???"

Whenever (Y/n) gets too upset, it's Gallagher that brews something for her. 80% of the time, it goes on the menu. The other 20% are drinks Gallagher refuses to have anyone else taste but (Y/n). The recipes are also gatekept from her so she wouldn't try to tell it. Not that she would, anyways.

(Y/n) takes a very gentle approach to Gallagher. To her, he's no different than a roommate. Back home, it's common for poor families to neglect their pets- and that never sat right with her.

She still feels guilty about the time she had to watch her father abandon newborn kittens in a plastic bag because their family could no longer sustain them.

(Y/n) doesn't like recalling those memories. It's an era they couldn't help, given the economic decline. It's a period in her life where she's forced to mostly eat pure salt and boiled bananas due to their convenience rather than nutrition. Money was out of reach.

... She doesn't want any other creature to go through all that again.

#I think I'll just refer to Penacony as USA in the comics ejsjiwidjajw #I cant help but make a hamilton reference forgive me lmao #There's something comfy about php!reader and romani coded aventurine being pals idk what to tell you tbh is that controversial to say😭 /gen #yandere gallagher #yandere gallagher x reader #$ whodrankit #gallagher x reader #$ monthly reader's beloved

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inusmasha · 8 months

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Sometimes it’s hard to read fanfic when you’re studying herbalism.. when they have the character preparing a tincture to use that same DAY!!?

Baby those dried herbs need to sit in that jar with high proof alcohol for at LEAST a month!

That’s why before the use of calendars ppl use to prepare their tinctures either on the new moon or full moon. A a full moon cycle is usually 28 days or so. And they would give the moon names so it’s easier to remember when/what month said tincture was bottled.

This is also why herbal medicine is prepare in small batches. You have to take your time preparing your bottles. Making sure everything is clean so you don’t end up with mold. Diluting your grain alcohol. Heckkk knowing when to pick your herbs for max potency! Drying your herbs! That takes a lot of time too!

I didn’t mean to rant lol

#herbalism #I just wanna swoop in there and be like hey hey hey wait hey #do we need writing resources about herbs? cause that’s coming up #I don’t wanna just post random info about plants #I hope like… it’s useful even in a creative sense?#pee usual Im overcomplicating a project lol #ramble

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idyllic-affections · 1 year

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dad!pantalone brainrot (ft. il dottore & baizhu) iv.

summary. when their health issues flare up, there are very few doctors that their father will permit to treat them.

trigger & content warnings. implied canon-typical dottore violence, (empty) threats, chronic illness, blood, mentions of death, etc.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. hurt/comfort. dad!pantalone & reader, il dottore & reader, baizhu & reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader. prev | next

author's thoughts. this series is never ending... in my defense, it was going to be a full-length fanfic but i never ended up pursuing that idea. anyway baizhu and pantalone are brothers here! idc if it ends up being non canon, its canon in my heart 💖 this got... slightly angstier than i intended. whoops!

when it comes to his child's health, pantalone only trusts two doctors in all of teyvat.

(he objectively trusts one far more than the other, though.)

il dottore is an... unfortunately large part of their life. the regrator did eventually accept that it was inevitable, given how "close" he and the doctor tend to be. dottore is one of their many tutors, though admittedly, his teaching methods are probably a little concerning... at least [name] is proficient in anatomy and physiology! perhaps pantalone should reconsider whether or not his child should be left alone with him. he'd somewhat gotten over his initial concerns about leaving them with him and his segments after seeing zeta nearly tear someone's head clean off in their defense, but perhaps it's time to reconsider! the second may not be hurting them, per se, but he is creating a desensitized little thing.

(though... it may very well be for the best, given their harbinger lineage. they cannot afford to be soft or squeamish. pantalone knows this very well.)

the second fatui harbinger is also largely responsible for making sure they're in good health. semiannual check-ups are a standard practice as opposed to annual ones; they did happen to inherit their father's poor immune system. dottore once offhandedly commented that it probably came more from the regrator's brother, as even pantalone isn't as prone to illness as his child is. the doctor has never met baizhu personally, but pantalone knows he's right. they tire so easily... sometimes it makes him sick with worry. regardless, it runs in the family, and some get it worse than others, so check-ups are more common.

(check-ups are always an amusing sight when zeta is around, wordlessly fiddling with a needle suspiciously close to their neck.

"put that needle in my throat and i will tear out yours."

he only smiles at them.

their smug aura does not mock him; contrary to popular belief, he finds it quite funny and endearing! they are the only person that can get away with talking shit like that. not even the other dottore clones can talk to him like that without getting a violent response. he lets it slide with omega because he has to, but beyond that...

he's fond of them. he's just too emotionally constipated to admit it.)

however, sometimes pantalone doesn't completely trust dottore not to harm them when they're seriously ill and vulnerable. he knows dottore would gain nothing by bringing them harm, and yet...

archons, becoming a father has made him awfully protective, hasn't it? surely he wasn't like this before he took them back from arlecchino?

times like those, times in which their illness would act up to the point of leaving them bedridden, making them shiver and tremble and spit up blood... times like those are when he calls upon baizhu.

he'd understand their illness better than dottore ever could, anyway. pantalone was right to make such an assumption.

"has your father taught you nothing of energy management?"

"energy management?" they scoffed sarcastically, the warmth from the cup of herbal tea in their hands soothing the chill in their trembling fingers, "from the man who hardly takes care of himself? please. he acts as if he isn't also chronically ill. he'll literally work himself to death if he isn't more careful. it's... worrying, actually." they tapped their nails against the cup mindlessly, chewing on the corner of their lip.

anxiety was not good for their health, especially not when they were already this ill.

"oh?" baizhu's interest was very much piqued at that, and their lips twitched upwards slightly at the way his hand stroked over their head calmingly. "in that case, i'll have to teach you my methods, but... he's been taking poor care of himself, has he?"

"the poorest."

"i see. do tell me everything, for... future reference."

they knew very well that 'future reference' meant a firm chiding. oh well! it's not like they purposely exposed their father's poor habits, no no. they were a loyal child. they'd never do something so terrible and unforgivable...

unless it was baizhu who asked, of couse. it would be awfully rude to withhold secrets about his own relatives from him, after all!

pantalone may get sick with worry over their health, but the sentiment is very much mutual.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion brainrots 🌸#pantalone x reader #baizhu x reader #il dottore x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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pascaloverx · 25 days

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To Begin Again

TWO

Summary: You're a new teacher at a large and influential school. It's a risky step for you, as you've been running from your ex for almost two years. But when Dumbledore asks you to take on a class at the renowned Hogwarts, you can't refuse. However, your life as a newly arrived teacher won't be easy. Especially when the other teachers don't seem eager to make friends. Or rather, two teachers in particular: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Author's Note: Welcome, dear readers. Please leave your comments if you enjoy fanfiction. This fanfic takes place almost in the real world (with the addition of werewolves) and is not a wizarding fanfic. There will be some differences and changes in things from the Harry Potter story or other fanfics in the HP universe, but I promise to do my best writing this fanfic. There will be a love triangle coming in this fanfic.

ONE THREE

You open your eyes, feeling a strange pain in your head but relief in your back. You're lying on a very soft bed. But you don't recognize the place; it seems to be someone else's room. There's more light in the room, fewer scattered books. The furniture looks expensive, all in a dark tone. You try to get up from the bed, but you end up staggering. Once again, your body is back on the bed. You think it might be best to go back to sleep until someone shows up. It's exactly at that moment that Sirius enters through the door. He carries a cup and is watching you almost without making any noise.

"How long are you going to keep watching me?" You ask while still lying in bed. Sirius laughs, and you feel relieved that you've broken what could have been an awkward moment between you.

"Is that how you're going to talk to the man who saved you from death twice? I thought you'd know how to be more grateful." Sirius responds as he leans his body against the desk in the room. You sit up in bed, after some effort, and stare at Sirius. He's wearing new, elegant, dark clothes.

"If you're expecting gratitude from me, you'll have to wait until I'm in a better mood. My head is a mess. Did you bring me here?" You wonder how you ended up in Sirius's room. Then you wonder where Remus is. Did you hallucinate meeting someone named Remus? And if he does exist, why did he leave you with Sirius?

"Remus and I. It was teamwork. We didn't want you to get hurt anymore. Before you ask, Remus and I are very close. When you're Lupin's problem, you're my problem too." Sirius then hands you the cup. There's what seems to be herbal tea inside, and you don't waste time asking whether you should drink it or not. You quickly ingest the tea, and almost instantly, you feel relief from the pain in your head.

"I'm grateful and offended at the same time. What do you mean, problem? I'm not a problem for either of you. In fact, I find it rather rude of you to refer to me as a problem." You say as soon as you finish the tea. Apparently, you managed to rise and stand up immediately after getting angry with Sirius. He seems to have a talent for irritating you.

"Hey, hey, hey princess. Relax. I didn't mean to offend you, but let's just say taking care of you was an inconvenience. Remus had to go teach, but today is my day off. A day away from the little ones." Sirius says, smiling slyly. You look into Sirius's eyes and wonder how he can be someone's teacher.

"You're a bit childish for a teacher. Not that I'm saying you're not qualified to teach, but..." you say, being suggestive. You notice he's no longer smiling, which is a pity. His smile is beautiful. As beautiful as he is.

"I'll forgive you for the attitude and offer to take you to the room where you should be going to teach. Right now." Sirius says, somewhat arrogantly, and pretending to be modest. At least, that's what it seems like he's doing.

"How? I just arrived, I can't just already have to teach, can I?" You had no idea that there would already be a class waiting for you. Things at Hogwarts seem to happen too quickly.

"McGonagall doesn't mess around. Apparently, you'll be substituting for my esteemed friend Lily Potter. Her health is fragile at the moment. But enough details. Let's go. The brats are eager to meet you." Sirius says, almost excitedly. Then he puts his hand out in front of you as if he wants you to take his hand. And you hold his hand, which is as cold as winter. But soft; very soft. And then he guides you, holding your hand with some firmness.

"Shouldn't I meet with this McGonagall or Dumbledore? Am I just going to arrive and start teaching?" You speak as you practically run through the corridors behind Sirius. He seems focused.

"McGonagall is busy dealing with a student who locked herself in the bathroom, and now everyone can hear her moans, and many students are nervous about it. As for Dumbledore, he's traveled to a meeting between some influential school directors in London. He won't be back for a few weeks. But trust me, you're in good hands." Sirius says, almost breathless as you're both almost running everywhere. Oh dear, how will you manage to teach after sprinting through almost the entire school at this speed?

"Tell me we've arrived. My feet can't handle climbing another staircase. At this rate, you'll have to carry me." You say, letting go of Sirius's hand for a moment and catching your breath.

"Nice way to flirt with me, but we've arrived. You're new here, they probably tried to intimidate you. I hope you survive. Take good care of my godson. See you later, Y/N." Sirius says quickly, with a playful smirk on his face, and then he disappears. How does he manage to be so fast?

Summoning courage, you enter the classroom. It's a room with an old-fashioned style, furniture made of the finest wood, and several students who look at you as if you've committed a crime.You compose yourself as you walk to the teacher's desk. It's a large desk, with a big book on top of it and a attendance list. You look at the class and notice that the boys who were fighting when you arrived are your students.

"So, students. I'm your substitute teacher. I'll be taking over this class until the previous teacher can return. I hope you'll receive me with the same respect that I'll give to you." You speak in a steady tone, neither too loud nor too soft.

"You hear that, Potter? Now you won't be privileged with high grades just for being the teacher's son. Finally, all of Hogwarts will discover what a loser you are." The boy, whom you believe to be called Draco, speaks almost across the room, addressing the dark-haired boy.

"You continue to delude yourself with your nonsense, Malfoy. If you put half as much effort into studying as you do into trying to belittle me, you'd probably be smarter." Potter speaks, and you just observe them with a serious expression.

"You know what? I think you two need to learn to put your energy into something other than taunts and senseless aggression. Malfoy and Potter, pair up and be the first to do today's class activity. For the other students, pair up as you prefer and start drawing. Today's task for everyone is to draw an animal that represents you as a pair. The best pair will earn extra credit. I suggest that Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter showcase their skills if they truly want to measure intelligence." You walk around the room as you write the task on the board and listen to the students forming their pairs. Everyone except the two mortal enemies. Apparently, they really don't want to do this task together.

"Teacher, with all due respect, it's not possible for you to believe that Draco Malfoy and I will do well in this task." Potter says as he adjusts his glasses on his face. He speaks assertively, and you look at him, trying to decide what to respond to him.

"Even though Potter is a fool, he's right. Not to mention that you've just arrived here and are already treating the two of us differently. It's not fair that the others can choose their partners and we have to stay together." Draco speaks, all full of himself, as if he's making a beautiful defense of why he's being unjustly treated. You chuckle lightly.

"I'll be clearer. You're going to work together, you're going to do a good job, and all of this in harmony. Otherwise, neither of you will receive a grade. Now, save all that energy for the beautiful drawing you're going to make. I'll be sitting at my desk waiting to evaluate you and all the other obedient classmates you have." You say, sitting in the comfortable chair designated for the teacher and opening the book on the desk. Malfoy and Potter must have realized that you wouldn't change your mind and decided to pair up. You took attendance, finally discovering that Potter's name is Harry, that the smart girl who draws beautifully is Hermione Granger, and that the boy she's paired with, who spends most of his time distracting her, is named Ron Weasley. Time passes quickly, and soon you're collecting the class's drawings to evaluate later. Draco and Harry did a great job together, but that didn't stop Malfoy from threatening to call his father to the school if you forced him to be near Potter.

"How was your first day?" Remus asks as soon as all your students leave the room for recess, and you stay behind to organize some things.

"A madness. Seriously, I thought my night was a mess, but waking up in Sirius's room in the early afternoon and then coming to teach was insane. Not to mention that the students I separated from a fight this morning are my students. And I think both of them will end up hating me by the end of my time here. And I lost my suitcase. But don't let me overwhelm your ears with my nonsense." You say, feeling lighter when you finish speaking, as if a weight has been lifted off your chest. Remus seems somewhat enchanted by your moment of venting. Or maybe his eyes always look too friendly? The smile is charming too.

"I can try to solve some of your problems. Harry is like a nephew to me, not to mention he's Sirius's godson. I can talk to him about this situation with Malfoy. As for your suitcase, it might be with me. I was walking through the forest a little before I found you in my room, and I saw this strange suitcase there. It was dirty with blood, so I preferred to clean it first, but I can take you to the suitcase. And then, of course, you can have a coffee with me." Remus says in a very sweet way, which leaves you a bit enchanted. For some reason, you feel that being near him is refreshing or comforting, something like that. You can't quite explain it yourself. You feel the impulse to hug him, which is quite strange. But you manage to control yourself.

"I can't refuse an invitation like that, especially when you offer me a solution not only to one but to two of my problems. Lead the way to the cafeteria because I'm dying for a cappuccino." You say, walking with Remus, who is walking quite calmly. Then you go together to the cafeteria, and you feel like you might enjoy your time at Hogwarts, even if it's short-lived.

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verai-marcel · 8 months

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Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 1 of 27)

Summary: Not every adventurer wields a weapon. You, a hearth witch living near the banks of River Chionthar, are witness to a craft falling from the sky, and wondering if anyone needed assistance, ran down to find survivors. That was your first mistake. Going along with the survivors on their crazy adventure? That was your second mistake. Will you survive your next mistake of letting a hungry vampire bite you?

Author’s Notes: Full disclosure: at this point, I’ve only played through act 2 without romancing Astarion. So why the fuck am I writing some wholesome Astarion x F!Reader? Because I’m dumb and got spoiled on Youtube, and now I can’t stop thinking about the poor guy. Also this is heavily influenced by a couple of wholesome manga (“Life in Another World as a Housekeeping Mage” and “The Forsaken Saintess and her Foodie Roadtrip in Another World”), but I won’t be writing an isekai. You (reader) are from Faerun like everyone else. I’m just here to have some wholesome feels and hurt/comfort. Let’s go go go.

Tags: wholesome, cozy camp time, Astarion x F!Reader, slow burn, good alignment, BG3 Spoilers

Chapter Word Count: 1,843

Ao3 Link here, Darling.

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Act I, Chapter 1 - The Beginning

You are a hearth witch, living on the banks of the River Chionthar, making potions and herbal remedies for the small villages nearby. For the past three years, you’d been happier than you’d ever been in your life. You loved helping people, but you made sure not to reveal your real name, nor why you always wore long sleeves and gloves, even in the middle of summer.

But the nearby villages had been emptying as of late. News of the goblin camp that recently appeared nearby had first scared off the traveling merchants, and then the locals. You realized that you too should leave, otherwise you’d either have no more customers or goblins on your doorstep. You only had a dagger and a few spells that did little in ways of actual damage, so defending yourself against a horde of enemies was out of the question. So you began to pack up, figuring out what you could bring with you, and what needed to be repurchased once you reached your new home, wherever that might be.

On a warm sunny day, you decided that this would be your last day here. Your pack was filled, your cottage cleaned out. Tomorrow morning, you would take off to the east, following the river to the next closest town. For now, you decided to grab a few more ingredients for the road, and so, you were out by the river bank, gathering fresh herbs and mushrooms.

A booming sound followed a strong gust of wind that whipped around you, twigs and grass flying everywhere. Then you saw a ship crash nearby, the land and water being torn asunder, debris flung in all directions. After the chaos died down a bit, you went to go check for survivors. You couldn’t, in good conscience, walk away if someone might need help.

That was a poor decision on your part.

The first survivor you found was a young, dark-haired woman, passed out on the shore. She seemed standoffish, but after helping her up and giving her a drink from your waterskin, you convinced her that the best thing to do was to get out of the area and rest at your cottage while she regained her bearings.

A little while later, the two of you came upon the strange sight of a single arm, sticking out of a glowing purple rune. You and the young woman, Shadowheart, pulled the poor man out. He introduced himself as Gale, and also joined your party.

As the three of you continued back to your cottage, you came across another stranger. Skin as pale as marble and hair to match. Had some scars on his neck. Perhaps he got them on the ship? He seemed harmless enough. Another escapee of the craft that fell from the sky.

That is, until he tricked you into looking for something in the bushes.

If only he hadn’t touched your exposed neck with his bare hand. Then you wouldn’t have felt the fear, underlined by a desperation you knew all too well.

The leash is cut.

It made you empathize. And that was one rule that had been burned into your mind at a young age.

Do not empathize with the enemy.

Fortunately, Gale and Shadowheart talked him down from stabbing you. The man even apologized to you, though it seemed more for show than for sincerity.

Astarion was his name. He introduced himself with aplomb and decorum, and your hackles raised at the sight. A noble.

After a bit more conversation, they agreed that their shared affliction was enough of a reason to travel together and find a cure.

Swallowing down your general prejudice against nobles, you ignored him and made small talk with the others as you led them back to your cottage.

***

Your cottage had only one room, enough space for your bed, some storage for herbs and tools, and a work table for your alchemy. Most of your things were packed, but you pulled out enough to take care of your guests.

The yard to the side of the building was set up as a small campground for travelers to rest. You had figured out a couple years ago that for a small fee, traveling merchants would gladly rest on your land where it was safe, while you made them fresh, nourishing meals and cast spells on their bedrolls to make them feel warm and comfortable. You even managed to get a small tub built in the back to provide a warm bath for an extra fee.

It had been a lucrative idea, one that made you enough money to be quite comfortable out here in the sticks.

You may only know a few cantrips, but you had manipulated them beyond what most people did. Your mending cantrip could fix whole swaths of cloth, your prestidigitation cantrip could keep bedrolls warm all night, or baths hot for hours. It was why you had several repeat customers, traveling merchants who would alter their routes to come to your place to rest.

You told them of the surrounding area and cooked a meal for them, a simple stew with seasonal vegetables and herbs.

The noble said he wasn’t hungry. You supposed your poor peasant food wasn’t to his taste.

He can suit himself.

While the others were eating, you set up the campground. While you were quietly casting the comfort cantrip on each bedroll, you sensed someone watching you.

“Yes?” you asked, biting the inside of your mouth to keep from being snippy.

Astarion stepped closer to you. He remained standing, looking down on your kneeling form. “What an interesting way to use prestidigitation.”

You shrugged. You had nothing to say to a noble. You finished your spell and started to shuffle over to the next bedroll, but he remained standing in your way.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all, darling.” He didn’t budge.

You let out a short huff and crawled around him. One bedroll left. Ignoring the man, you began the cantrip.

By the time you finished, you looked up to see all three of them watching you.

“What?” you asked, a little disturbed by the attention.

“I hadn’t thought to use that cantrip like this before,” Gale said as he knelt down to touch the bedroll. “How long does it last?”

“All night,” you responded, feeling a little proud of yourself.

Shadowheart was already crawling into the bedroll. “This feels amazing.” She buried herself into the cloth. “It feels like I’m sleeping on a warm cloud.”

Gale shrugged and followed suit. “Gods, you’re right.” He sat up and looked at you. “I don’t know how you manipulated that spell, but it’s absolutely brilliant.”

You felt a zing of joy. Your little custom cantrip impressed a wizard!

The noble watched you for a few more moments before he too, crawled into a bedroll. His eyes widened slightly. “Oh. My, this is rather comfortable.”

You jutted out your chin, but refrained from being too catty about it. Instead, you switched to being polite.

“Sweet dreams,” you said to everyone, and went about cleaning up around camp. By the time you were done, the three of them were fast asleep.

***

The motley crew thanked you and took off in the morning to explore the area, seemingly never to return.

You looked around at your unpacked things, and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to start off tomorrow morning instead.

Your plans were sidetracked once more, however, when the group returned that evening with a fourth member, grouchy and prickly as a threatened porcupine. After a couple of bowls of your herbal soup, she became a little bit less prickly. Lae'zel was her name, and she punctuated her Common speech with her Githyanki tongue. You found it a bit endearing, the way one finds a stray animal that always hisses at you endearing.

You cast a warming spell on their bed rolls once more, burned incense to keep the insects away, and made sure they were all comfortable in your little camp area outside of your cottage before going to bed.

The next morning, you got up early to make breakfast for them before they left to explore the ruins that they had found the day before. As you checked your rabbit traps, you noticed one of them was tripped, but the rabbit within was a mere husk, as if it had been dehydrated.

Curious.

You reset your trap and returned to camp.

“What’s that?” Shadowheart asked when she saw the husk of a corpse in your hand.

“A dried up rabbit.”

“That doesn’t sound appetizing,” Lae’zel remarked.

You shrugged. “I can at least sell the pelt later. Sorry, you’ll have to make do with another vegetable stew tonight.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “That is, if you’re coming back here.”

The four adventurers looked at each other.

“I think we’ve taken advantage of your hospitality long enough,” Gale said. We’ll start heading west from here.”

***

The group had finally left, and you had finished packing. You had been delayed by their arrival, but no longer. They truly seemed gone now, with the sun setting and no sign of their return. Tomorrow for sure. Tomorrow, early in the morning, you would set off—

You heard your name being called. Off in the distance, you could see Gale, waving sheepishly at you, followed by the others.

You sighed. Biting back your annoyance, you smiled and waved back. A customer was a customer. At least this group was entertaining, and quite generous with their gold. And this time, they brought you back some boar meat.

There was one new face, a man with a stone eye. He introduced himself as the Blade of the Frontiers, Wyll. He seemed nice, charismatic even. Someone who had the manners of a noble but the heart of a commoner.

They set up camp once more in your yard, and you unpacked just enough of your supplies to make them a meal.

"You look like you're ready to go on a journey," Gale commented as you all sat around the campfire, eating a boar roast with herbed potatoes.

"I'm moving. Many people have moved away because of the increase in goblins in the area, and a lot of my business has dried up. And having goblins this close doesn't make me feel all too safe."

“Any plans on where?”

You shrugged. “Not really. I was just going to travel until I found a place to settle.”

"Well, why don't you come with us?"

Everyone looked at Gale in shock, but then they all looked at you.

"You do make camp much more comfortable," Shadowheart finally said.

“And one of us would be standing guard at camp as well, so you would be safe,” Wyll added.

You saw no reason to decline. You liked most of them, save for one snotty noble. A constant flow of income would be nice, for once. You negotiated a decent wage and agreed to head out with them at first light.

That, dear hearth witch, was your second poor decision.

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Chapter End Notes:

Yeah, I basically made up a “hearth witch” class as a combo of druid, wizard, and cleric, but hey, welcome to Dungeons & Dragons, where homebrew classes happen all the time. Hope you enjoyed the fic! I'm actively working on the next chapter!

Update 4/4/24: All chapters are here!

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion #astarion x F!Reader #slow burn #female reader #baldur's gate 3 #your hearth is my home

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dragonagitator · 7 months

Text

Here's a couple handy reference tables from the 5E Guide to Sex for all you smutty BG3 fanfic writers out there:

(Cassil is a herbal contraceptive that prevents you from impregnating someone for 3-to-12 days, and Nararoot is a herbal contraceptive that prevents you from being impregnated for 3-to-6 days when brewed as a tea or 6-to-12 days when chewed raw.)

(I am beginning to suspect that we got hustled like clueless tourists at the Sharess Caress)

#hornyposting #BG3 #baldur's gate 3 #dungeons & dragons #dungeons and dragons #d&d #dnd #5e guide to sex #bg3 fanfic writing resources

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bonefall · 7 months

Note

Obviously nobody should be talking poorly about any of Bumble's competitors but it's insane how people voting for Alex are going 'its a CAT'. Like, okay and? Alex Dewitt is ink on paper and we rightfully take issue with her writing to the point of making it a term, so why is it any different when a fictional cat has misogynistic writing? And these are cats with a society, laws, religion, and understanding of (herbal) medicine. They are on par with people. And, it's a YA series. Shouldn't people take the message "fat, abused women dying isn't a problem because they can't contribute ackshually, and if we acknowledge it is how can the goodboy main character stop licking his brother's kitty boots if he's a bad person :(" as a red flag in any series? Let alone one for kids? Like, did everyone outside of the fandom miss the Ashfur defense? Because I was there for it and it was pretty clear a LOT of impressionable children genuinely believed the "he only loved too much" excuse hook line and sinker, and blamed Squirrelflight for everything. There were so many fans genuinely believing that I literally remember seeing hate art and fanfics portraying Squirrelflight as a horrible person just for asking to stay friends. That alone was a testament to how harmful Warriors can be, all because of that one scene of Ashfur being spotted in StarClan.

And with that fiasco in mind, how can anyone trivialize it to Bumble being 'just a cat'? Especially when kids are reading this, and could really take the harmful message Gray Wing the """Wise""" has for them that if you have nothing to contribute to the people you desperately need help from, you are stupid for trying to ask for it. I was lucky to not take any of the really harmful portrayals relationships in Warriors to heart, but not everyone will be. People should support Alex all they want, she deserves it! But downplaying what happened to Bumble because she's a cat is harmful :(

Alex DeWitt's story is so shocking and straightforward that you're able to sum it up with a single word; "Fridging." It's become the touchstone for a wider discussion about misogyny in media because it is so evocative and so easy to explain as an example.

That IS important. That IS a legacy.

But somehow, if you try to explain how EARLY misogyny in media starts, and how pervasive it is even in "less respectable" mediums like YA xenofiction, they lose their fucking minds. People who refuse to read anything at all going, "what could possibly have happened to a cat?"

You know what, though? I'm GLAD Bumble is winning, and I'm proud of this fandom and our campaigning. I think we actually deserve to be a little smug about this after all the damn "justa cat" comments. Bumble doesn't HAVE a legacy. The book doesn't VALUE HER LIFE AT ALL! "It's so sad Clear Sky is going to have his reputation ruined for killing this useless woman. I never liked Bumble anyway, what matters about this is my poor brother :("

The runner of the Canon Misogyny Tournament mentioned in passing how they kinda take issue with the idea of quantifying misogyny based on suffering because of how it oversimplifies the insidious ways it can express in a narrative, and I've thought a lot about that a lot. They're right.

And Alex is THE posterchild of this because her death is ghoulish. We needed what happened to her as a simple, evocative term, to advance the conversation around media misogyny and get it through people's skulls. But, she has become the conclusion of a sentiment that the more gruesome the death is, the more misogynist that makes it.

but. The fridge was not the misogynistic part of what happened to Alex. THE FACT SHE WAS ONLY INVENTED TO DIE FOR THE PAIN OF A MAN IS. THAT is what the term "fridging" is supposed to point out; The absolute LACK of interest in her as a 3-dimensional character, in women as people, to the point where the writer chose to send Alex out in a gorey, disrespectful way solely as a motivator for her boyfriend. THAT is the bad part.

But instead people have latched onto the fridge half. More violent = more misogyny.

There's a lot of ways for a narrative to be misogynist, though. To downplay the lives, emotions, or contributions of women characters, and to reinforce real-world bigotry.

Warrior Cats does a LOT of this, blaming bad mothers who didn't shut up and accept their 'purpose in life' for Brokenstar's tyranny, making it a TRAGIC thing that Clear Sky is being held accountable for murdering women because his man pain makes it ok, and even blaming Squirrelflight for rejecting Ashfur's advances which caused him to go "crazy" and attempt to murder her children (until, of course, the welcomed retcon of TBC).

Bumble's death, because she is a fat woman, is treated as unavoidable. It's not a terrible thing she died, Gray Wing never really liked her anyway, what REALLY "matters" is that now no one likes her murderer.

She was stupid and selfish to even ask for help, because she is so fat and weak. To be upset at all that her only friend watched her get dragged back to her abuser. Even as she bleeds out, she gets to listen to Turtle Tail making up excuses and wishing she "could have found happiness."

All while Tom the Wifebeater, the fat man who physically assaulted two women, gets a big cutesy redemption death and honored and beloved by everyone and even gets to "lose weight and that's so good :)". Because the books value the lives of men more than the lives of women, plain and simple.

Bumble wasn't just fridged. It's worse than that. Her life doesn't even have enough value to get Clear Sky held accountable for murdering her, because beloved writer favorite Gray Wing hated her for being friends with his wife and doesn't want anyone to hate his poor, innocent big brother :(

Like you said, you can ask anyone in this fandom and they'll tell you about the impressionable kid they were, or have MET, who was badly influenced by the constant misogyny of these books. People who defend Bramblestar tooth and nail as he abuses his wife, the screeds against both Leafpool and Nightcloud for making Crowfeather sad, and the absolutely radioactive Ashfur Defenders who have thankfully died down since TBC's welcome retcons.

It doesn't just end with annoying internet comments. Those kids carry that kind of message with them. It reinforces existing biases and causes them to downplay abused women and toxic men in their real lives.

But sure, "just a cat." Cool way to downplay the 20-year-old bestselling YA fantasy series that is still ongoing but ok. 50000 Bumblesweeps upon ye.

(though i do also have to say, since I started speaking more about it today, I'm seeing more non-wc fans push back against the 'just a cat' comments. Sincerely, thanks guys. It's not every DC fan or Alex voter, just a very vocal section of sore losers willing to downplay misogyny because they're angry.)

#Bumblesweep #Vote Bumble #Misogyny #fatphobia #abuse

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despairots · 7 months

Text

THE ORACLE: ACT 1, SCENE 1

「 i want to touch. i want to be touched. i want to hurt. i want to be hurt. and if you feel the same way, you’re as bad as me 」

CONTENT WARNING: swearing, suicide, suggestive themes, cults, implied self harm, self destructive behaviour, depression, mental health, disorders, sexual assault, blood, canon violence, implied misogyny, reader gets mistaken as a women from men and they get mistaken as a feminine man to women, reader goes by they/them, torture, cult activities, murder, masochism, sadism, manipulation, slow burn, obsessive themes, unhealthy love, religious trauma, etc.

AUTHORS NOTE: first chapter lets gooo!!! :333 my writing might suck but please bare with me it’ll get better. did you guys pick up that reader isn’t exactly healthy and is completely deranged when it comes to their reverse cursed technique. also slow updates i forgot to say this but im not a really motivated writer when it comes to fanfics and long chapters, im okay with oneshots that have 3 parts but anything that goes 4 and beyond drains me so im sorry if chapters are slow :( just please be patient

the way you’ve been dotted and spoiled was too much that you thought you would grow up to be spoiled brat (you didn’t but it would be likely). always littered in white and always clean— they never liked dirt on your skin— so, you were always spotless.

spotless until the sacrifices.

you watched on your throne that was made but thorns, how so many people were restrained and sacrificed for you. their yells and pleads hunted your memories, the cheers and claps from your worshippers made vomit edge your throat but you held it back. they didn’t like it when you were dirty.

if you could’ve healed them, you would, but they were sacrifices for you, you. everything they did was for you, because you deity, a child above human society—when you didn’t mean that much— all because of your technique.

it could only help people if they were on the verge of death. simple wounds like a cut wouldn’t be enough to heal it, so if you restrained them and done enough damage to make them on the verge of death, you could help them and they would be okay.

physically, not mentally.

that’s also a thing you couldn’t heal. someone’s mentally stability. couldn’t heal what they saw, couldn’t heal the mental scar that had cut open their heart and burned itself there.

you weren’t capable of it—you wish you did— then maybe you could heal all the people that had come up to you and asked for you to heal the things they’ve seen, that had went ahead and snapped their minds.

the faces and curses that were shown to you once you had told them you couldn’t help. there was one time where a man had went ahead and sliced your cheek, he was apprehended and sacrificed.

but still.. you couldn’t wipe that moment away. it was a sign that you were only ever good at healing people physically. that in the end, you were actually useless if you couldn’t help them, mentally and emotionally at least.

the worshippers expressed their concern to you, watching you sit on your knees while holding onto your bloody cheek—they don’t like it when you were dirty— they took you to a bathroom. so white and bright.

a white bathtub, which was being filled with warm water, in the middle of the bathroom, herbal essentials being poured into the bathtub as they stripped you from your white clothing and helped you into the bathtub.

washing the impurities from your skin and cleaning the cut on your cheek. staring at the water of your reflection, something that shows you you’re human—anything, please just something that says you’re heart is beating and you’re real.

they had hummed a tune they always hummed when being in your holy presence, it almost seemed like they blushing while touching your skin. were always so smooth? they thought, you were some deity sent from above.

you doubted it.

some simple child with a reverse cursed technique wasn’t special nor were they sent from heaven. you born into a clan that had not visited you once and had given you to an insane clan that worshipped the child who inherited this technique.

but you weren’t a child anymore.

and here you sit. watching your worshippers laugh maniacally and kill themselves or killing eachother—they don’t like it when you’re dirty— so why? why is their blood imprinted on your hands?

did they want you to be impure? did they drag you out for so long that they went and burned these sins on you? you were supposed to be a saint, an angel, a deity.

but look.. you’re followers are dying for you and you couldn’t save them.

you’re no saint, no angel, no deity. you were a sinner, a devil. their blood was shedded for you because you were so special to them, so divine. you couldn’t help but laugh.

laugh to save yourself from sanity as you clenched onto the now stained white clothes. tears were flowing down your cheeks where it started to grow sore from all the painful laughing.

you were free. you were finally free from an endless cycle, an endless addiction that they had said you were. it was a mass slaughter of eachother.

until it went quiet from you. all their bodies were surrounded you, some would assume you killed them, you wouldn’t blame them. it was your fault. it was because you were so divine that they went ahead and sacrificed themselves for you.

your eyes widened when you felt a hand be placed on your shoulder— no, this was moving to fast— just a few seconds ago, your worshippers had killed themselves for the sake of you and now, a impure hand (though it’s ironic) laid their hand on you.

“don’t worry my child.” did you know her? why was she so warm? so motherly? why were you so drawn to her that you had crawled into her arms where you shredded no tears, you already wasted them.

thoughts and words swarmed your head, it almost seemed like you’re going insane. it reminded you off all the people who asked you to heal mental scars, you were turning into them. now you knew why that memory had craved itself in your head.

there was butterfly and spider that had managed to crawl inside the house of divinity, both had positioned themselves beside eachother, waiting for one another to attack. until heels went ahead and stomped on the butterfly, carrying a 13 year old in her arms.

could you ever guess the significance of your life? no, you couldn’t. you didn’t value your life nor did you value the time that was wasted on you. if life and death was given to you, you would’ve chosen death.

after all, you were responsible of so many people’s death and sanity. their blood was still stained on your hands that couldn’t be washed away by the water in the bathtub you submerged into. there was blood all over your body that only you could see through the water.

you couldn’t take it.

sinking your face into the water was the only thing that made the blood wash away from your view. drowning yourself in blood and guilt was relieving and delicious. did you enjoy the sight of their blood?

it made you grin with happiness. you were insane. sharp ends were dragged through your delicate (which was cut multiple times) skin, blood dripping into the bathtub as it turned the water into a wine colour.

your eyes saw black dots—you were dying— until the cuts were healed once again and you popped your head out the water, staring at the now bloody bathtub with empty eyes.

“haven’t i told you? stop staining the bath with red.” a women sat beside the bathtub, holding a towel and waiting for you to stand up—you looked good in red— she held a soft smile that made you swoon.

turning your attention from the large window beside the bathtub to the women, you sighed softly and threw your head back against the bathtub, staring up at the ceiling.

how long has it been since the incident? 2 years— no, it was 3. you were 16 now and with your family. every since the women beside you had found and taken you back to your clan, you were taught more about your clans curse techniques.

they had two techniques you had inherited: stringing art cursed technique and the technique that had cursed your entire cult.

“but it’s beautiful.” you had whispered so softly that people might’ve not heard it but she did. she always did. especially now, when she cleans and wipes the impurities off from your skin.

hearing her light and breathy chuckle made you blush from how sweet she was— and then she proposed a question she always had asked you; “would you like to die by a knife?” and you’d always respond, “i wouldn’t want to die by something so boring—so trivial— like a knife.”

and she would always hold a knife against your throat before drawing it away with no intentions of actually harming you. you had always held admiration towards her, how she can be so cunning, you wished to be like her.

you changed into a new pair of clothing, a black turtle neck, a greyish black blazer over it (that had reached the back of your thighs), and shorts with black tights. a necklace with a ring on it was around your neck, you had almost forgotten who had given that ring to you if it weren’t for the letter that was framed.

my one regret was not being able to marry you.

how childish but yet how sweet. remembering the time you had gotten that letter was the moment that made you cry for a second time but that was year ago… and you hadn’t moved on yet.

maybe one day though. one day— “thinking about him?” her voice had interrupted your thoughts about him, turning your head towards her while she stood at the foot of your door, waiting for you to start walking out.

you closed your eyes with a sigh and walked to her side, “he’s too precious to not think about.” hearing you speak so highly about him made her wonder what would happen if she died. would you speak highly about her?

no. you wouldn’t.

not after what she did.

and she knew that aswell. you wouldn’t have ever forgotten about that, you could forgive but you didn’t dare to forget. rather would take it to the grave then forget—

“oh, look at you, my dear web!” another women had approached you, taken your hands and pulling you close to her. your mother, yuka etō, now you knew where you got your looks from, and your father, arata etō, was the man who you had taken your personality from.

humming softly, one of your hands fingers slid in between hers as you held it softly, “morning.” her other hand went and caressed your cheek—never called you by your actual name— “my lovely and dear web.” her tone was implying something you didn’t want to be hooked into.

she smiled, a haunting look in her eyes that was covered sweetness, “they’ve requested you to come to tokyo metropolitan jujutsu technical school.” oh. she had stated with a slight laugh seeing your eyebrow twitch in irritation.

you wished you could decline, you really did, why couldn’t the women standing behind who’s laughing take the job? a child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort. sighing, you pulled your hands away from her grasp and shoved them into your pockets.

some heavy god has put more pain on you then any other human being.

what becomes of the shepherd when the sheep are cannibals?

couldn’t escape this one now, “yeah, i’ll go.” your tone was evident of clear irritation as your mother cheered and clapped her hands, your father approaching you and patting you on your head—what a sinful touch.

��satoru gojo, huh?” you dangled a photo of the boy above your head, a lollipop being savoured by your tongue as you smirked and threw a leg over the other, leaning forward with a cheek in the palm of your hand.

the women in the driver’s seat had chuckled at your fascination towards the boy. no, it wasn’t fascination, it was more of a short interest, “where’d your sudden fascination for him come from?” she had questioned, not sparing you a glance.

she didn’t want to see the annoyed look on your face when she had said that, knowing it wasn’t a fascination or admiration, “don’t jump to conclusions.” go jump of a cliff instead was cut through your throat, keeping your mouth shut.

though, she already knew what you wanted to say. you had always wanted to say something snarky but bit your tongue back until the blood trickled down the corner of your mouth.

you sighed, rolling the window down and throwing the photo of him away, watching it fly through the air then disappearing from your view. “what’s so fascinating about this boy?” you queried, glancing at the women and tilting your head when she hadn’t responded.

all you heard was silence from her, did you she really not want to say anything about this boy? you knew gojo satoru was important and you had done your research but what’s so fascinating about him?

pouting, you crossed your arms and leaned back—until her mouth opened which got your attention— “you’ll find out.” what a boring answer but it’s better then nothing. you groaned and once again, leaned back into the seat.

you craved knowledge, more then anything actually, you were probably more gifted with knowledge then anyone else in your family. always anticipating someone else’s moves and predicting them aswell, your father had said you were truly terrifying.

knowing the gojo clan and having them technically burned into your head since your parents were teaching you about the most powerful clans out there when you came back, satoru gojo hasn’t been told to you.

a smile appeared on your face while biting your pinkies nail, satoru was cute, just not in a way where you’d expect. more like, you wanted to hold him down, cut him up and study him.

but the corpse still remains.

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