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inaconstantstateofchange · 4 months

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Halsin and Silvanus

In the course of my recent research on Bane for a lore request fill, I found myself coming across a lot of very interesting information, previously unknown to me, about the other gods of the Forgotten Realms — in particular Silvanus. There was enough there that it inspired me to direct some extra research hours into this writeup, exploring all the reasons why Halsin is a quintessential Silvanite.

If you would like any more information on anything included here, please feel free to drop a comment or an ask, as there is truly so much that I just don’t have the space to include. (I usually end up with about 12-13 pages of source quotes before I begin one of these meta posts.)

My usual note that, as ever, these writeups will align with current 5e lore, and draw from 3.5e for additional supporting information. On rarer occasions – and always noted – I will reference 1e and 2e, but with the caveats that there is much more in those editions that is tonally dissonant with the modern conception of the Forgotten Realms, and thus generally less applicable.

Silvanus is easily one of the most misunderstood gods of the Faerûnian pantheon. This is even pointed out directly within his section of the 3.5e Faiths & Pantheons (an incredible resource if you are looking for more detailed information on the gods of the Forgotten Realms!):

Nevertheless, most outsiders view the church of Chauntea, as patrons of agriculture, as being favorably inclined toward the expansion of civilization, while the church of Silvanus is the implacable foe of those who would settle new lands. Neither impression is correct, yet the church of the Oak Father is often perceived as little different from those faiths that venerate the Deities of Fury.¹ [emphasis added]

Silvanus is most often perceived as strictly and impassively neutral, and intrinsically opposed to civilization in all its forms. While the former is something close to true – he is a very neutral-aligned deity, albeit not necessarily in a way that matches the popular conception of the term – the latter is certainly not. Humanity (if you’ll forgive the use of the term to designate in broad strokes the non-animal denizens of the Material Plane) is another facet of nature, one given equal consideration to the rest – plant, animal, and other – by Silvanus.²

While as a whole followers of Silvanus have a preference for the wilds and the deep forests, this is by no means a concrete rule. In fact, Silvanite clergy – those known as druids – are not uncommonly found in enclaves in larger cities of the Sword Coast and beyond, including Waterdeep.² Typically these druids will “create gardenlike walled areas of wild forest within the city limits.”¹ Wherever they may find themselves, Silvanite druids work to maintain the Balance of nature around them, through education and direct action both.

Silvanus’s dogma has much to tell us about his philosophy, and that of his followers. I’ll be splitting notable excerpts and their relation to Halsin into sections below.

Hold your distance and take in the total situation, rather than latching on to the popular idea of what is best.¹

Halsin was, from the first moment I met him in-game, so notable for his calm self-possession, and the clear forethought he gave to his actions and those of others. He does not feel bound by the expectations or approval of others – as noted in the dialogue he shares with the player if they compliment his choice of successor – but instead makes his own path following the direction of Silvanus’s wisdom and will.

Resort to violence and open confrontation only when pressured by time or hostile action.¹

This is showcased numerous times throughout the game, but perhaps best evidenced by an in-game note, from an unlikely source: the Priestess Gut. The note that you can find from her, regarding Halsin’s capture, notes the following:

Said he thinks there's somethin' rotten inside us. Inside me. Reckons he can help get rid of the rot. I told him we don't need any help from nobody. Never did. And especially not now the Absolute's taken a shine to us.³

Despite the immediacy of his capture at their hands, and the preceding attack already lodged against himself and Nettie⁴, Halsin’s primary impulse is to attempt diplomacy, and render aid. This only changes when his length of captivity has made it clear that there will be no changing the minds of the cultists, and they must be dissuaded by stronger means.

Banish disease wherever you find it¹

The way Halsin is first introduced to the player is as a healer – and not just any healer, but a masterful one, known throughout the region, who has the best chance of being able to assist with any manner of strange ailment. It is clear in all ways, as well as in the scenario referenced in the preceding section, that this is an aspect of Silvanus that Halsin strives to embody at all times.

Seek out, serve, and befriend the dryads and learn their names.¹

Particularly if we understand the reference to dryads here to extend to all fey spirits of nature, this gives new depth to Halsin’s friendship and devotion to the nature spirit Thaniel. Halsin, as a druid generally, and as an Archdruid in particular, would have a solemn and divinely-ordained responsibility to redress the upheaval of the Balance within the Shadowcursed lands. For that reason alone, it is no surprise that it was his primary motivation and consideration for nigh on a century.

However, even above and beyond that, Halsin had an additional motivator. Even before he became a druid, potentially before he was exposed to the teachings of Silvanus in anything but the most vague and general of terms, he was living them out by befriending the local nature spirit, learning his name, and seeking to understand, serve, and protect him.

Make others see the balance and work against those that would disturb it. Watch, anticipate, and quietly manipulate.¹

The primary source text I am using to draw this connection was written neither by nor about Halsin, yet I believe it still clearly reflects on him, for reasons that will become clear. This text is from a logbook recording activities of the Emerald Grove during the year 1371, 121 years prior to the start of the game’s storyline, and some years before the defining events in the soon-to-be Shadowcursed Lands.

6 Uktar: Sent two druids, some of the newer recruits, up north. Village there has had two years of failed crops and are unlikely to survive the next winter. 9 Uktar: A group from Baldur's Gate arrived. They've set up camp on the edge of the forest. Two bears and a fox came by. Their territory has been burned out. Half the fox's cubs died. Paying this new group a visit tomorrow. 10 Uktar: Visit did not go well. After telling me where to shove it, they said they'd cut down half the forest and burn out any wildlife that dared to stick around. Claimed they were going to 'farm the land and make a new city of their own.' Time to get creative. 12 Uktar: Mudslide did the trick. Buried half their farming equipment and made the rest useless. They won't be back any time soon. Got reports of a Red Wizard in the village south of here. Sending three rangers to investigate. If they catch even a whiff of a red cloak, I'm contacting the House of Silvanus.⁵

Given the timeline, while this is unlikely to have been written by Halsin himself, it seems like a strong possibility that it was written by his master, the previous Archdruid of the Emerald Grove, who perished in the fight against Ketheric Thorm. This is supported by the clear evidence that the author was an individual in a position to give direction and command to those around them, and to make the call for how to deal with various situations. Given too what we know of the druidic leadership structure, Halsin would have been the previous Archdruid’s Second, as Kagha was his.⁶

This man, then, would have greatly influenced Halsin as a druid of Silvanus and as a leader both. We can presume that this watchful duty and deliberation was one that Halsin himself took over, charged with doing his part to maintain the Balance of the region around the grove. This last point especially becomes even more significant in light of the following information, which comes not from Silvanus’s dogma, but rather from a description of his followers and traditions of worship:

Members of the clergy work to redirect development and control populations through covert sponsorship of brigands, breeding and selective placing of predators, and other means. It is essential that such work be as secretive as possible, so that most folk view the servants of Silvanus as essentially benign lovers of trees. Wildlife breeding, nursing sick animals, and replanting trees and wild shrubs are all work that should be done as publicly as possible to support this perception – and as necessary work to redress the slipping Balance, of course.¹ [emphasis added]

It is clear from all preceding evidence, and this excerpt in particular, that the druids as a whole put far more thought and strategy into every aspect of their appearance and the perception of them than they would ever want outsiders to become aware of. Halsin himself corroborates this in-game, noting that, while druids might not like politicking, that certainly does not mean they haven’t the skill for it when called upon.

For the sake of… well. (I have been advised by my legal counsel not to use “brevity” here.) Regardless! For the sake of my sanity and your time, I will refrain from going into further detail on specific instances that show this to be true of Halsin. I will merely encourage you, the reader, to consider the value this brings to his character and druids as a whole, and hope to encourage new appreciation for their refreshing complexity.

In closing, I leave you with one final quote:

Superior patience, natural knowledge, and anticipation are the hallmarks of a worthy servant of Silvanus.¹

¹ Faiths and Pantheons. 2002. p. 63.

² Dragon Magazine #412. June 2012. pp. 22-3.

³ Rancid Note. In-Game Text.

⁴ Halsin’s Journal, Vol I. In-Game Text.

⁵ Logbook XII: 1371. In-Game Text.

⁶ Grove Annals. In-Game Text.

#voidling speaks #my meta #bg3 meta #meta #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #halsin #bg3 halsin #silvanus #realmslore #forgotten realms

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tadpolesonalgae · 6 months

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Soft-dom!Azriel x reader: Dreamy[*]

A/N: this really is a “short but sweet” length fic (I’m so sorry)

Warnings: soft-Dom!Azriel, oral (f! receiving), smut

Word Count: 1,778

A hand spans your hip, keeping you gently pinned to the wall, something hard and stiff poking your middle.

Obscene sounds squish between your mouths as his tongue flicks over your lips, stroking against your own.

A whimper melts on your tongue, eagerly swallowed down as he angles your head, free hand lightly gripping your jaw. Whine when his hips roll against your own, gripping onto his shirt, fingers crumpling the fabric. “Azriel…” you pant when he pulls away, a thin strand of saliva connecting you.

His cock twitches at the sight: feeling the heat from your cheeks, the plump glistening skin of your lips, the dilated pupils that are begging him to take you to bed. And who’s he to resist?

Azriel smiles gently, “on your back tonight.”

Heat bubbles in your middle, watching as he nods toward his bed, already beginning to strip off his clothes. Smooth, tan skin reveals itself, littered with small flecks of scar tissue, speckled with ragged marks. Tongue flicks over your lips, following the V of his hips lower—mouth watering at the prominence of his arousal.

He clicks his tongue in chastisement and you dip your head, hastily murmuring out an apology. A small smile softens his mouth, your heart jumping as you fumble with your dress, then padding over to the bed. Crawl onto it carefully, settling in the middle so there’s room for his wings to drape—should he feel that way inclined.

“That’s good,” he murmurs, prowling up the mattress, settling between your spread thighs. Cups your cheek, your own hands putting themselves over him: one lightly around his wrist, the other gliding over his shoulder. Moan sweetly when your lips connect, how they slant over your own, loving and tender.

“Open,” he mumbles between kisses, tongue dipping deeper into your mouth, stroking against the roof. Moans work their way from your throat, hand sliding to lock at the nape of his neck, fingers grazing the silky strands of hair. Teeth nip at your lower lip, drawing a whimper from you. His own hand settles on your inner thigh, pushing encouragingly. Legs part wider, and he slots in comfortably.

Heat sizzles in your lower tummy as you feel him rest over your heat, hips grinding softly to make sure the entrance is smooth. Arms tighten around him, pulling him deeper to your mouth, spine arching as he palms your breast. Thumb flicks across your nipple; you moan, tugging on his lower lip. You don’t want any teasing tonight. Just him.

Head spins a little as he kisses down your throat, nosing lightly, inhaling your scent. The undoubted arousal that’s also clouding his mind. Tongue licks over your skin, nipping a spot below your jaw, teeth grazing pleasurably. Back curves, nipples dragging over his chest as heat builds delicately.

“You’re a bit out of it today, aren’t you?” He whispers, pulling away to gaze down at you, hair loose upon his pillows. Blink up at him dozily, coming back to reality. Teeth push into your lip, eyes dipping to the side. “Sorry, Az,” you mumble, “I think I’m a little tired.”

A low laugh rumbles in his chest, stars gleaming in his hazel eyes. “It’s adorable,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Do you want to go to bed?” He asks, still smiling. Shake your head, definitely not wanting it to end. “Do you?” You murmur, fingers playing anxiously with the inky strands at the nape of his neck. Kisses your forehead again, “no.”

A smile pulls at your lips as you gaze up at him contentedly. “Good,” you mumble, legs wrapping around his hips. He chuckles again, the sound settling in the pit of your belly, a calloused palm stroking over your thigh, pulling you higher. His head lowers to your chest, kissing between your breasts, your own fingers threading in his hair as he latches over your right nipple.

“I’m sorry if I’m a little…subdued,” you admit quietly, spine arching as he circles the peak, thumbing across your left one. Teeth gently clasp around you, tugging lightly, causing your legs to wrap around him tighter, slippery wetness coalescing swiftly. “That’s okay,” he reassures attentively, pulling away in favour of attending your left nipple. “Just do your best,” he murmurs, delivering a light lap. “And tell me if you get too tired, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, eyes half lidded from pleasure.

“Okay…?” He goads, feeling his lips part in a smile. A helpless laugh bubbles from your chest, raising your head from his pillows slightly to meet his gaze. “Okay, Azzie.” That lovely, rich laugh resonates through his chest, warming your blood as hazel sparks with quiet joy.

“Good girl,” he chuckles, returning to your chest, slowly making his way down your stomach until he’s between your thighs. Begins slowly sucking marks into the skin, drawing whimpers from your lungs.

“Az,” you moan, his lips grazing the apex of your thighs. “Please…”

Mouth quirks in a smirk, “please what?” Roll your eyes at him, hand settling over your stomach as your head falls back into the pillows with exasperation. “Come on…” you groan, unable to fully disguise the laughter in your voice. His mouth parts in a grin, kissing down on your clit. Toes curl, a short inhale sucking between your lips. “Just a little,” he promises, lowering comfortably between your thighs.

Teeth push into your lip, his hot mouth latching over your heat, tongue licking across you, prodding at your entrance. Just a little, he’d said. Just a little; then he’ll be inside of you. Breaths deepen, hips raising for his access. Lips seal over the apex of your thighs, lapping and flicking as he enjoys himself.

You cup your breasts, shadows wrapping over your thighs, both his hands and the darkness rubbing in soothing motions, allowing you time to soften into his bed. Fingers pinch your nipples, playing with them experimentally while he creates a mess between your legs. Shadows join the fun, flicking the peaks of your breasts, gliding like silk across your skin, goosebumps rising in their wake.

He takes his time savouring your wet heat, tongue licking up the arousal, pressing his face deeper, eager to have as much of you as he can. Tongue pulls away from your entrance, suckling to your clit briefly before kissing, finally pulling away entirely.

Heat bubbles in your lower belly as he lines himself up, cock slick from being rubbed over you. Hands link over his shoulders, desperately dragging his mouth to your own. Needing to taste yourself on his lips, feel them ply you apart so he can delve deeper. His tip presses to your entrance and you buck, raising a little, urging him to slide home.

Teeth clasp your lower lip, tugging lightly as he pushes in further, the head of his cock nestling inside. Whimper into his mouth, fingers threading in his hair, nails scraping lightly as you silently beg, pleading for him to push his hips forward.

Azriel’s mouth opens over your own, finally relenting as he slides in to the hilt. Until his hips are pressing tight to the backs of your thighs, ankles crossed at his back. Lips part in a moan that he swallows hungrily, greedily devouring every sound you give. Every short whine, every sharp breath, all of it. Watches as your skin flushes with pleasure, hands gliding further down his back, taking in as much of him as he wants of you.

Finger graze the base of his wings, making his hips buck lightly, pushing you into his bed. Moans spill from the both of you, shadows soothing the heat that’s practically rippling beneath your skin from need. “Azriel,” you plead, desperate to feel him move, to rub against the spots he’s had memorised since the first time you coupled.

He nods compliantly, hand tangling lightly over your hair, sliding between your head and pillows to cup you. So he can watch as he begins moving.

Hips drag back, just a little as to not utterly overwhelm you. Neither of you are in the mood for that sort of play. Instead wishing to simply indulge in one another. Curse beneath your breath as he presses in again, certain you’d be able to feel him should you lay your palm over your abdomen.

Azriel groans with pleasure, moving smoothly in and out: slow but steady. Easing the both of you into the rhythm before he picks up the pace. Moans flow more frequently, exchanging noises on pleasure in a mutual give and take. Hips buck up against him, urging him deeper; you want to feel more of him.

“Az…” you pant, “please. I just want you tonight.” Bumps his nose against your own, increasing the rhythm to something better, something more suitable for the both of you. “Want it straight?” He murmurs, grinding into you, shadows skating across your skin, scraping over peaked nipples, sensitive with stimulation. You nod needfully. “No teasing tonight?” Shake your head, pleading with your eyes, fingers lacing with his at your jaw. Pull his hand away lightly, pressing kisses to his palm, affectionately adoring the scars. Vulnerability stretches between you, suddenly submerged deeper into intimacy.

“Please,” you request, moaning as his darkness makes its way between your thighs, sealing over their apex. A small smile softens his mouth, edges curving upward before nodding. “Okay,” he mumbles, “since you’ve been good.”

Relief has the coil tightening, pleasure frothing in the pit of your belly, tightening as he drives you closer to that edge. Touching the spots within you that he knows make you sob. Vision blurs, heartbeat spiking as that familiar beat drums into your bones, picking up tempo.

Lips part on a quiet, breathless moan, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure breaks, washing across your skin with delicious reprieve. His name pants from your lips, your own like a prayer on his. Hot spurts of cum spill into you, filling you to completion, finally melting across the mattress. Content to seep into his skin, splash as you liquefy with one another.

Wings shudder as pleasure rolls through his muscles, stuttered breath panting from his lips as he grinds into your heat, easing through those last waves of his high before settling at your side. An arm and a wing lay across your stomach, the latter fully concealing your lower body, keeping you contained within his warmth.

It doesn’t take long for either of you to gravitate toward one another, slotting perfectly as sleep weighs down.

He pulls you closer, shifting to his side, your back flush to his chest. Skin pressed to skin.

Content and silent.

Peace and quiet.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @vanderlinde

#Azriel #Azriel x reader #soft-Dom!azriel #Azriel smut #Shadowsinger #Shadowsinger smut #Azriel x reader smut #Dreamy

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erooca · 9 months

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daycare

ellie williams x reader

description: ellie williams is forced to take a shift at a daycare. she knows she’s gonna hate it, that is, until she sees you. 1.9k words

this is very self indulgent cuz i work at a daycare. i’d be so down to continue this storyline if it gets any interactions :)

part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/erooca/725335248989208576/daycare-pt-2

why the fuck am i here? is exactly what ellie was thinking, pulling into the small, but cheery daycare. it was 9:30 in the fucking morning. she should still be asleep, not getting prepared to run around with little kids for the next eight hours.

after feeling sorry for herself a bit longer, she turned off the ignition and headed into the double doors.

“good morning, ellie!” maria said with a bright smile. ellie almost rolled her eyes at the enthusiasm. maria was sitting behind the front desk, clicking away on the computer in front of her.

“morning,” ellie responded back, a complete opposite from the way maria had greeted her.

“i know i’ve already thanked you a million times, but seriously. thank you for coming in,” maria thanked.

right. the reason ellie was here in the first place. maria had mentioned how the daycare she owned was extremely understaffed recently and needed all the help she could get. of course, joel offered up ellie as help. he said it would be good for her. ellie would have shut them both down, but maria mentioned how much she’d pay ellie. ellie was sold.

“yeah,” ellie responded, still not happy about the experience.

“listen, ellie, as soon as i get some more workers you’ll be free to go,” maria comforted.

“i know. so what am i gonna be doing?” ellie asked, praying to whatever’s out there that she won’t have to change any diapers.

“i think i’m going to put you in the big three’s. it’s a good group of kids, so don’t stress. it’s just down that hallway. second door on the right.”

ellie nodded her head and set off to the room. she already knew she was about to have the most frustrating and long shift of her entire life.

as she walked down the hallway, she admired the kids’ art that was strung on the walls. she noticed more of it around the big three’s door. she took a deep breath, and then entered through the door.

and then she saw you. you were kneeled down, ground level with a little girl who was crying. she watched as you gave the little girl a big hug, and how you helped her focus on the tower she was building with the colorful blocks.

when you finished calmed down the kid, you spotted ellie. maria told you that you’d be having another teacher today, but she never mentioned that teacher would be fine as fuck.

“hey. ellie, right?” you asked.

“um.. yeah,” she answered.

you introduced yourself to her and the room.

“they’re doing centers right now. you should go around and try to get to know some of the kids. once we have circle time, we can do proper introductions. that sound okay?” you suggested.

“sure..” ellie said. you could sense the nervousness radiating off of her.

“don’t stress. these kids are fun to be around. at least most of the time. let me know if you need anything,” you encouraged.

she nodded her head and looked around the room. from what she could see, the centers included music, blocks, art, math, science, and a play kitchen.

of course, she felt inclined to visit the art table first. there was only about three kids over there, and it was a topic she knew pretty well. was she overthinking this? probably.

she took a seat on the uncomfortably small chair in front of the table. immediately, the three kids looked up at her.

“hi! what’s your name?” a girl with short brown hair asked her.

“ellie,” she answered, then realized she should probably talk a bit more, “um what’s yours?”

“pippa,” she answered, putting away the green crayon in exchange for a red one.

“what are you drawing?” ellie asked, looking at the mound of colors on the girl’s paper.

“my family!” pippa smiled, “that’s my mommy, and that’s my kitty kat, and that’s daddy!”

to ellie, it looked more like scribbles of different colors, but nonetheless she praised the girl for her creativity.

she felt a light tap on her arm and when she turned she was met with a shy looking boy. he had black braids in his hair and wore a toy story themed shirt.

“hi.” ellie said to the boy.

“can you draw me something?” he asked, handing her his blank sheet of paper.

“okay..” she said, taking the paper from him, “what should i draw?”

the boy thought for a minute, “ooo, i know! a dinosaur!!” he said, excitedly.

this request made ellie’s smile grow. of course she could draw him a motherfucking dinosaur.

“what’s your name?” she asked him.

“king!” he replied, awaiting his dinosaur.

as she drew, king watched intently, and once pippa noticed ellie was drawing, she started watching too.

when ellie was finished, she gave it back to king.

“woah!!! it’s a t-rex! i’m gonna color him green!” he said.

“ellie. can you draw me a mermaid?” pippa asked her.

ellie obliged and soon she had a good line of kids asking her to draw things for them.

as she was working on her third princess drawing, she heard you singing the clean up song.

she didn’t have chance to admire how beautiful your voice was before the kids started singing along. the three year olds started cleaning up their messes and ellie helped them out.

you had them gather on the carpet, where you finally introduced ellie as their new teacher (for the time being). you watched as ellie awkwardly smiled and you had to hold in a laugh.

after doing a couple songs and shit with the kids, they all went outside and played on the playground.

you took this opportunity to talk to ellie.

“hey, so, how you liking it so far?” you asked her, curiously.

“i thought i’d hate it, but it’s actually not too bad,” she said, glancing over at you with a smile. you swear you almost passed out right there.

“haha, yeah. it can take a second to get used to. you’re lucky they didn’t put you with the two year olds. those children make me want to quit my job,” you laughed, “so you know maria?”

“yeah. she’s sort of my- aunt-in-law - i guess?” ellie said, trying to find the right words.

“really? tommy must be your uncle then. gonna be honest, maria scares me,” you admitted.

ellie laughed, and your heart skipped a beat.

“pretty sure tommy feels the same way. she’s not bad once you get passed the cold exterior. how long you been working here?” ellie asked, intrigued to know more about you.

“about a year. its just a steady job while i’m in college,” you answered.

“you’re in college. where do you go?” she asked.

“jackson state!”

“no way, me too. you on campus?”

“yeah, campbell north.”

“no fucking way-“ ellie said, but caught herself, “shit-SHOOT, no freaking way. i dorm there too.”

after you laughed at her slip up, you continued your sweet conversation with her. you felt like you’re falling in love with her by the second, and little to your knowledge, she’s was feeling the same way.

“do you have any favorites yet?” you asked.

“um.. i like king. he’s sweet,” ellie answered, thinking back to the dinosaur drawing.

“yeah. he’s really smart too. he’s actually in the foster care system and can be a bit sensitive about it. try not to mention moms or dads around him,” you told her.

this struck a chord in ellie. she had been in foster care a long time before joel came along. she knew exactly what it was like for king. she hopes he will be as fortunate as her in the future.

when the time came, you and ellie corralled all the kids back into the room. there was a cart at the front of their door that had lunch on it. you explained to ellie that you guys will have to make the plates and then hand them out, same with the milk.

you passed out the plates to each kid who was sitting down at the small tables, while ellie came behind with the bowls of food, placing a nice scoop on each child’s paper plate.

you went to start pouring the milk but soon got distracted. you couldn’t help but watch ellie as her lean figure slid around the room. you liked the way she kneeled down when a child was asking her a question, acting as if that child were her equal. you studied how her hair was sticking up a bit on the sides, probably from being outside and running around with the three year olds. most of all, you loved how she was smiling. how it seemed that she was enjoying herself. the beautiful curve up of her lips was enough for your heart to beat at a rapid pace.

you snapped out of your trance when you saw ellie look up at you. you flicked your head away before she could catch you staring (even though she definitely did and you knew it too). you started actually doing your job and pouring the milk for your children.

as the day went on, ellie was very fond of learning more about you. you both spent nap time learning new things. when ellie told you how much she loved space, you told her how you thought you could be the first person to pluto as a kid, since it was your favorite planet. you guys talked about your favorite constellations and which ones you spot first. you told her how much you liked to read and shared your favorite stories with her. you asked what maria was like at thanksgiving dinner.

you were sat together against the wall, just chatting. the lullaby music played on the tv. the lights were off and curtains were closed. the three year olds were all asleep. ellie was all to yourself right now. you were so starstruck with how easily your conversation flowed. she sat with her knees up, resting ur arms on them as she looked at you. you could see glint in her eyes, even in the dark room. it made you like her even more.

once the kids woke up, it was less talking and more working, much to your disappointment. the rest of the day went by smoothly. you did a fun craft with the children that they enjoyed, and ended the day with tv time. once the number of kids got lower, maria came in to let ellie know she could go home.

“well. i hope all these kids didn’t scare you off. will you- be here tomorrow?” you asked with a hopeful look on her face.

ellie chuckled, “some of them are a bit scary, but they didn’t. i think i will be here tomorrow, but only so i can see you again though,” ellie smirked.

once her words sunk in, your cheeks turned a blushy color. no way the new, hot teacher just flirted with you. you stammered a bit but regained your ground.

“looking forward to it, ellie. have a good night,” you smiled brightly.

ellie have you a slight smile and a wave before walking out the door. you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. holy shit were you in deep.

ellie joyfully said bye to maria, earning her a weird look. she felt on cloud nine as she walked to her car. the day went better than she could’ve ever expected. she was already making a mental list on ways she could win you over.

maybe this daycare job won’t be so bad. is exactly what ellie was thinking as she drove away.

#ellie x reader #tlou x reader #tlou 2 ellie #tlou part 2 #tlou 2 x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfic #the last of us #the last of us p2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #tlou2 ellie

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periprose · 6 months

Note

Ps5 Peter Parker x reader inspired by this?

It's one of my favorite MerDer moments on Grey's anatomy 🙈😭

Peter explains something about physics or an idea for a gagdet...

🤣 this image really cracked me up lol thanks for the ask!! I've set the fic to take place in the first game, Peter and Reader are Otto's assistants at Octavius Industries. Please ignore the science mumbo jumbo in this fic.

Otto's lab was really cold this time of year. He barely had the funds to make rent in Manhattan, let alone provide optimal heating and other luxuries.

Still, you shiver, searching through your locker for your comfy, oversized jumper. You're just pulling it on when Peter pops up from behind you.

"Hey."

"Jesus!" You flinch and then rub your eyes. "Hey, Peter. How do you get behind me so fast? That's the third time this month I didn't even see you come in."

"Uh... I just have good reflexes, I think." Peter's mouth twists a little, as he tries not to laugh at your jumper. "Are you sure that's up to lab standards? Where's your lab coat?"

"Ah, Otto doesn't mind. He knows I'm cold." You explain, and Peter sighs.

"Well, he never gives me special treatment."

"Probably because you're not as cute as I am." You joke, but Peter nods and you feel a callous level of attraction towards him for being so nonchalant in terms of flirting.

You never really know where you stand with the guy. He's a naturally witty person and you refuse to read into anything any deeper, just for self preservation.

"Hey, I can't disagree with that." Peter laughs that quiet, soft laugh that makes you smile on your own. "Here, I got you a cup of coffee. That should help warm you up."

You look down and see, sure enough, Peter's holding a coffee cup tray, loaded with three cups, surely your usual orders- for you, extra black espresso to stay awake, for Peter, usually some kind of healthy tea hybrid, and for Otto, a large, creamy Italian coffee blend that's particularly expensive (Peter always jokes that Otto wastes funding on things like this).

"Oh, I'll pay you back." You reach back into your locker for your wallet, but Peter stops you with a raise of his hand.

"It's free of charge. No worries." He hands you the cup gently, and your hand skirts across his. You think for a moment.

"Nothing is ever really 'free of charge', Peter." You give him a side glance. In the last couple of months you've known this guy, you've figured out when he has an ulterior motive.

"... Alright, alright. You got me." Peter starts pulling you along by the hand, towards one of Otto's offices filled with white-boards and desks and equipment. You take a sip of your coffee and notice that it's still quite hot- Peter must've been really fast to make it so.

Not that you're complaining, and now that you're warmer you do feel more inclined to listen to him.

"Okay. You know how Otto's neural interface for the experimental arms have been glitching out?" Peter's got a firm look on his face, as you sit and listen.

"Yeah. It's a poor prototype, I think he asked us to leave it alone? He said he'd deal with it." You shrug. "I've moved on to his requests for a tighter, stronger arm. You know I deal with hardware."

"Yes, but even so, the neural interface problem still persists. Otto's lying." Peter looks at the whiteboard, and sees that half of it is covered all over with erratically drawn diagrams and equations. It's fine, he knows he can write what he needs in that space.

"Okay, look." Peter begins drawing a diagram of the neural interface's circuitry. "See how the voltage is really high?"

"Yeah- but isn't that what Doc wanted?" You grimace. "Last time I brought up the voltage issue, he told me to mind my business and continue with soldering. He wants so much power for some reason."

"Right, that's what I'm talking about. Notice how Otto keeps having those outbursts?" Peter sighs, a deeply upsetting look overtaking him. "He's getting a bit aggressive as of late, and I think it's because he can't figure this out."

"You're telling me. Just yesterday he chewed me out for clocking in a bit late." You sniff. "Okay, I was fifteen minutes late, but still."

"I've been there, you don't even have to justify it." Peter laughs, and begins drawing squiggly lines. You can't help but notice how his strangely muscular arms are tense and visible through his lab coat as he scrawls, and you take a sip of your coffee, savoring the view. Looking isn't illegal, you try to rationalize, but you quickly banish these thoughts as Peter looks back with a sly glance, to make sure you're paying attention.

"This is the electricity flow... and it should be heading this way, but the neural interface is made incorrectly and the flow of energy is heading back this way... towards the-"

"The battery of the arms, not the interface." You suddenly realize, and take a scrap piece of paper off the desk, scribbling down notes. "Hmm... maybe the wiring used for the arms is absorbing too much energy? Or the batteries are too big?"

"Maybe, but neural interfaces are tricky business." Peter winces as Otto yells at something in the background of the lab. "I told Otto not to get too involved with it- it's far too easy to accidentally mess with your brain, and then suddenly you've got anger issues or worse-"

"Dementia." You finish his sentence with an equally grim expression. "Okay. I hear you, but how are we supposed to fix it, exactly? I can only think of using different, smaller wires, or a less cost heavy battery- but then it won't move at the speed Otto wants it to."

"Yeah." Peter's shoulders slump a little, and you feel bad. He's always just one dude trying to take on the entire world's problems.

"Peter, it's not your problem, really. You can only do so much- the man has made up his mind, he's going to have to take the brunt of the problem." You try to console him, but Peter has that determined Parker Pride you've seen far too often, and you know he's not going to let it go.

"Wait, wait. Okay..." Peter starts frantically drawing on the board, and seeing that he's running out of space, without missing a beat, begins to draw on the wall.

"Peter! You're drawing on the wall!" You admonish him, and to your shock and utter horror, but not to your surprise, he keeps going. "Now you've completely lost it- it'll take two seconds to erase the board-"

But Peter isn't listening, in that overly stubborn, inventor way that you know you've done before. He's too lost in his own thoughts, and you know that spark will disappear if he takes a moment to stop drawing.

"I'll clean it. It's fine. We got to get a move on." Peter points to the new diagram on the wall. "Look at this."

Peter's drawn a rudimentary depiction of the robotic arm prototypes you've built for Otto, but the battery pack has been split up into several, smaller batteries that extend over the course of the arms. Something about the way the arms move in Peter's drawings look a lot more... smooth, silky, like a cephalopod.

An octopus.

But you are amazed at Peter's capabilities, either way. "Using multiple different batteries, so the energy isn't drawn away from the neural interface in a great capacity?" You blink, a bit amused at Peter's eager expression. "It would work, I think, but only if Otto is willing for a slight decrease in power."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong. We don't need to sacrifice power at all." Peter draws a set of gears, interlocking through the squiddy looking arm, and you clap your hands, clambering up out of your seat, finally enthused by his idea.

"Peter Parker, you genius!" You shake his arm excitedly, and he turns a bit pinker as he watches you, grinning. "Otto wanted the arm to be almost entirely synthetic material- but if it has rotating gears, the less it will jerk around. It'll be faster, smoother-"

"Thus requiring less power anyways, and less power will be redirected into his neural interface. And, hypothetically, no more angry Otto." Peter grins, and you smile up at him. "I mean, it'll still take some tinkering to figure out, but incremental improvements are still improvements, right?"

"Definitely. Plus we can always try to convince him about solar power again." You joke as Peter snickers.

Peter opens his mouth, about to say something to you, but he stares for a moment too long and hesitates, especially because in the nerdy excitement, he had gotten so close to you, and he was a liar if he said he had never checked out his cute co-worker. Any second now, you should be teasing as you usually do- but your eyes are wide and Peter gets the sense you've been swept up in this too.

He's never been so... close. He can make out individual eyelashes, tiny scars, imperceptible to normal people, but not to him.

And his phone buzzes with some kind of alert. He looks it over with bright, concerned eyes, while you take a moment to step back, much to Peter's mild irritation.

"Ah... must be MJ?" You ask, trying so very hard not to sound like a jealous girlfriend, just a curious colleague. You have nothing against MJ- you just feel that she and Peter are so meant for each other, and this is exactly why you've been trying to protect yourself.

Who are you kidding? You and Peter are both so busy- you'd never have time to be his doting, adoring girlfriend. You just have to remember him as a friend.

Already you feel the walls coming into place, your expression turning neutral, your heart becoming steely, when Peter looks at you again, surprised.

He can tell you're holding yourself back- and he doesn't like that. He wants you to come back to him, to be close with him again, and it drives him nuts that it has to be your choice, but he respects that.

"Not MJ. We broke up a while ago." Peter swallows, hoping he's saying the right things. "Uh... I don't think we're going to get back together. She's dating someone else now."

"Oh." You squeeze Peter's shoulder as comfortingly as you can. "Peter, I'm sorry. I would've been less of an ass if I'd known."

"No, don't be." Peter fixes a firm, kindhearted glance at you, taking your hands, the warmth of his own making you feel especially treasured. "You're great."

There's a teeny bit of hope working it's way into you, into your silly, girly heart despite all the steel around it, and Peter has a soft smile reserved just for you- you know that smile, you've seen it before when he comforts you when an experiment goes poorly, or when you've had a Eureka moment.

He rubs your hands. "Jeez, you're cold! I know women are usually freezing in the workplace- different body temperatures on average and all that- but I'm going to have to talk to Otto about making it warmer in here."

"Lest I die of hypothermia, right." You snort, and Peter snickers, but he still stays close, as if he's using this as an excuse. "Well, at least I have your hands."

Peter's phone buzzes again, another alert, which he apologetically takes a moment to read after letting go of you. Something about Fisk's thugs making their way through Grand Central Station- he shouldn't leave right now, but he can see your curiosity is piqued.

"Just a news alert. Nothing big." Peter lies, and you don't quite buy it, but you don't want to pry at this moment after he's complimented you and been so nice to warm up your hands.

Otto bursts through the entrance of the room, sighing.

"Will you two lovebirds stop canoodling with each other and test out the circuitry? You know, like I'm paying you to do so with very limited funds?" He barks, and then inhales. "Sorry. Just... try to stay on task. And I know you're young and all... but stop drawing on the walls!"

He leaves, grumbling about youth being too romantic and wishing they would understand sensibility.

You're about to refute whatever Otto said, so Peter doesn't feel uncomfortable, when he speaks first.

"I take it he isn't a romantic." Peter jokes as he grabs some paper towels, and you laugh, feeling that Peter's flirting was more genuine than you thought.

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sevensoulmates · 21 days

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I've never been more convinced then I ever have of Buddie canon and I think we're about to get Buddie canon confirmed in the bachelor party/wedding episode.

I think these 2 episodes, 4 and 5. One told through Buck's the other told through Eddie's are clearly telling a story of two separate queer journeys. One of acceptance(Buck) and the other of repression(Eddie).

I think this episode is going to end with Eddie doubling down on his relationship with Marisol because Buck being bisexual is going to draw feelings inside of Eddie that he is absolutely terrified to explore and he thinks that being with a woman is just going to make those feelings that are getting stronger and stronger for Buck go away, they won't.

Then in episode 6 which is the Bachelor Party/Wedding episode, as Ryan said Eddie is going to let go, have fun and see where it takes him. When Ryan said that I have never been more convinced that something is happening between Buck and Eddie after the bachelor party and it's going to be something very non platonic that will be the reveal that Buddie is canon.

I'm very much inclined to agree with you, especially about episode 4 being Buck's journey of accepting his queerness, and episode 5 being about Eddie's journey of repression. Buck and Eddie have always been narrative parallels on equal and opposite journeys, both heading for the same place but going about it through very different personal arcs.

Like I've said before, I think things are going to get worse for Eddie before they get better. And I think you're so right that episode 5 is going to be things "getting worse" because he's going to double down on Marisol. The more I've been hearing and sussing out with people, it seems like Marisol's sticking around past episode 5 (which sucks, I know! We were all hoping!) but I can see why that choice is being made because unfortunately if we want to explore Eddie's comp-het, then we need a woman around for him to be comp-het with! I think that's likely why they also switched up on Marisol's personal style this season and had her go from tomboyish in s6 to very femme in s7. They needed to represent her being a little bit more of the "perfect woman" for Eddie again a la Ana Flores. Especially in contrast with Buck and Tommy who are very masc-presenting men.

Most of the time when people talk about compulsory heterosexuality in an academic space they are always talking about women because comphet is inherently a byproduct of patriarchy and misogyny. But, as most of us are aware by now, patriarchy has deep-rooted harmful effects on men too. I can't claim to be anywhere near an expert but I would love to see it explored deeper with Eddie given that a lot of his story has also revolved around him deconstructing other aspects of toxic masculinity and hypermasculinity.

Like does Eddie really enjoy going out with Marisol? Or does he like the freeing feeling of being able to cuddle up with a woman in public and know that no one is judging?

There's a lot of academic theory that goes into compulsory heterosexuality but if you look at the "Am I a Lesbian? Masterdoc" and apply everything there to Eddie, it's almost point for point him.

Some examples:

[brackets] are me turning "men" to "women" from the original text for clarity

Deciding which [women] to be attracted to – not to date, but to be attracted to –based on how well they match a mental list of attractive qualities.

I like the idea of being with a [woman], but any time a [woman] makes a move on me I get incredibly uncomfortable.

I do not like the reality of being with [women], only the idea of being with [women].

I like the idea of marrying a [woman]/being in a relationship with a [woman], but I can always pick out a reason to not want to date any [woman] that is interested in me or any [woman] suggested to me

You view relationships with [women] as a chore, burden, or just something you must deal with.

Picking a [girl] at random to be attracted to

Choosing to be attracted to a [girl] at all, not just choosing to act on it but flipping your attraction on like a switch

the [girls] I like are always hyper [feminine] [girl's girls] who embody everything about [womanliness].

Only/mostly being attracted to unattainable, disinterested, or fictional [women] or [girls] you never or rarely interact with.

Reading your anxiety/discomfort/nervousness/combativeness around [women] as attraction to them. Confusing your anxiety around [women] for “butterflies” or being flustered.

Dreading what feels like an inevitable domestic future with a [woman]

You have every reason to be happy in your relationship with a [woman], but you just aren’t / everything is going really well, but something is missing and you can’t figure out what

Thinking you’re commitmentphobic because no relationship, no matter how great the [girl], feels quite right and you drag your feet when it comes time to escalate it

Going along with escalation because it seems like the ‘appropriate time’ or bc the [girl] wants it so bad, even if you personally aren’t quite ready to say I love you or have labels or move in together etc.

Or jumping ahead and trying to rush to the ‘comfortably settled’ part of relationships with [girls], trying to make a relationship a done deal without investing time into emotional closeness

Your relationships with [women] are devoid of passion.

Feeling like you have to have relationships with [women] and/or let them get serious in order to prove something, maybe something nebulous you can’t identify

Getting a [girl]friend mostly so other people know you have a [girl]friend and not really being interested in [her] romantically/sexually

Wishing your [girl]friend was more like your [male] friends

Worrying that you’re broken inside and unable to really love anyone

Having had people think you were gay when you had no suspicion you were gay

That got longer than I intended but I wanted it here anyway because it just proves (at least to me) that this is the story they're doing with Eddie. The only ones I didn't include were the parts about sex because other than Shannon we actually haven't seen how Eddie reacts in sexual moments with women.

As for the bachelor party/wedding, I do think a lot is going to happen there, and likely a lot of Buddie clues, big and small, but I still don't think anything physically intimate (kiss, hookup, etc) is going to happen. The only exception might be hand-holding, a hug or like a slow dance. Those I could see being plausible.

#911 abc #911 speculation #eddie diaz #speculation #buddie speculation #buddie #comphet! eddie diaz #this was a lot more than you originally asked for but when my brain starts whirring it can't stop my bad

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critterbitter · 4 months

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Hi there! I wanted to preface this by saying that your submas and Nimbasa trio art are awesome, and I adore the way you draw them and write their interactions ❤️ . Their expressions, the way they move and interact with each other and the world around them, it's great 👍.

There's something I wanted to ask regarding your comics, and I ask this with the utmost respect 🙏, because it's something I've been wondering: where are their parents? It's awesome that they do all this stuff together, but the parents are, like, never brought up. Not even Elesa's after her introduction to the twins. And Ik that in the Pokemon verse, you're free to do whatever at age 10, but I still wanted to ask in your comics, at least, since they're still so young, if there's going to be any mentions of them.

I don't want you to feel pressured to draw designs for their parents or anything like that! It's perfectly understandable if you've never thought of the subject, I just wanted to know if they're still in the picture or if, for drama effect, they're orphans adopted by uncle Drayden in your lore. (Ofc, if you believe in the uncle Drayden theory, that is).

And once again, thank you for all the work you do! You're awesome, and your art is awesome 👌. And I really hope this ask doesn't come off as mean or offensive, I'm just really curious about anything you'd be willing to give about submas parents. Thank you 😊 for everything once again. Your work is greatly appreciated 🙏.

:0!

Going to be honest, I didn’t really think about them parents much— pokemon treats most parent figures as non-entities, so… yeah. Feral teenagers running around.

If you want to hear my rambling though! (Note that this is all work in progress! Things are inclined to change.)

Worldbuilding for this iteration, I like to think it’s cultural that everybody has a pokemon starter/ ace that they grow with, but it depends on individuals to decide how close their lives intertwine. That in mind,

Ingo and emmet have two moms! Their ma’ is drayden’s twin sister— Kaita, haxorous ace, and a dragon specialist. And their mother, Lucielle, a stoutland ace, works as a full time trainer. The ladies are a bit absent from the twin’s life because they have their own business, but like to send Ingo and Emmet stuff from wherever they roam. (They tried their best when the kids were younger. But talking about having kids, and actually raising kids are two different topics in life.)

Drayden serves as an uncle figure for the twins, but he’s a bit bitter he got two patrats dumped on him.

((Does the lack of parent figures and a distant uncle have lasting effects on ingo and emmet? That’s up for your interpretation. Though it would explain latching onto each other and then later litwick and tynamo…))

As for the pachirisu child—

Elesa’s parents are separated. Her dad, Rin, works a full time desk job. He means the best, but he’s never home. He lost his staraptor a while back and is still dealing with the grieving process, and isn’t really equipped to look after a kid on top of all that. Elesa’s mom, Himawari, is still in Sinnoh and works as a ranger. Her ace is a solrock.

(Why are they separated? That’s for you guys to postulate! I am simply throwing ocs at the wall.)

Elesa was moved to unova partially due to her dad’s new job, and partially due to that Entire Nebulous Situation. She adapts fast, but it’s not a fun adaption.

Anyways, the twins and elesa in turn grew up very independent as a result.

And that’s the barebones!

#asks #mailbox #submas parents #elesa parents #feel free to use these guys! i came up with them in a moment of blind panic when i realized <aah they would have parents… right>#pokemon #critterbitter screams into the void

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swayziiwriter · 8 months

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Forbidden | Pablo Gavi

summary: ahead of the Ballon d'Or winners being announced, Barcelona midfielder Pablo Gavi had been presented the Kopa Trophy at a lavish ceremony that you’ve attended with your brother Pedri, you find yourself stealing glances at Pedri's best friend, Pablo Gavi, whose presence ignited a mix of emotions within you. Pablo's eyes frequently met yours with a hint of a shared secret. As the night unfolded, your unspoken connection deepened, hinting at a shared affection that had long been hidden beneath the surface.

WARNING: 18+, sexual content

NOTE: the forbidden brothers best friend and off limits sister trope is everything, i’m obsessed and back writing

A muted groan left your mouth as Pablo embraced it with his hot lips, hauling them down to your uncovered neck leaving open mouthed kisses down your hot flesh. Your head fell back against the mass of the extravagant washroom, your body shaking as Pablo's cock siphoned all through your trickling center. Each push felt outrageous, an unfamiliar impression that cajoled your body in delight.

Would it be a good idea for you to have been doing this? No. In any case, you were unable to stop, regardless of how frequently Pedri cautioned you to avoid his companion Pablo was a forbidden fruit you were unable to let be.

Pablo was to far gone into this, an actual aggravation in his heart when you were around however distant, so often that he would get the ball really rolling anyplace he could. This time, the washroom of a costly extravagant function. A service that ended up having both your families on different sides of the walls. Pablo couldn't imagine that now, not while your walls were wrapped so intently against his cock.

"Pablo, it feels so good" you murmured into his ear, scarcely perceptible as the frail commotion of you bodies cooperating reverberated through the space. Your bodies were squeezed facing one another, your dress was clustered up to your abdomen as Pablo's pants were pulled adequately down to free his pulsating member.

Pablo's cock kept on penetrating your tight opening, smooth cum covering his part permitted him to slip in and out without any problem. Making an ensemble of your juices and his cock slapping against one another.

"Te ves tan hermosa así, llena de mi polla." You look so gorgeous like that, brimming with my dick. Pablo moaned, carrying a hand to cover your mouth as he calculated his hips to hit that perfect balance within your center that made your whole body shake. You could feel yourself drawing nearer to your peak, the closeness among you and Pablo considering you to get on his hurling relaxing. “I'm-i'm so close Pablo" you murmured, zeroing in on controlling your own relaxing. Pablo simply gestured not having any desire to make any more clamor then fundamental. It was exclusively until he as going to answer that you both heard it, the restroom entryway clicking open.

"No es una oportunidad mi amigo" not a chance my friend a voice said between chuckles. Perceiving the voice quickly both you and Pablo froze, your eyes went wide as Pablo brought a hand over your mouth hushing your relaxing. Pedri was inside the restroom, water running as he murmured a melody delicately cautious to not disturb whoever was in the stall down the line of them.

Pablo remained stilled within you, bodies nearer then ever as the apprehension about being gotten by your more seasoned sibling striking a virus feeling through both your bodies. Pablo looked as you moved your hips gently, so light that he nearly didn't get it. You were all the while attempting to get yourself off, gripping to your climax that was so close.

Pablo inclined his head down, concentrating all over intently prior to inclining toward your ear. “If only Pedri knew the amount of a cockslut his younger sister was for me.” You nearly came at his words gulping your groan that took steps to emerge from your mouth. “Y para su mejor amigo? Me mataría si descubriera lo sucia que realmente estabas." And to his best friend, he'd kill me if he found out how dirty you really were.

Once more pablo's hand tumbled down to your clit, moving his long fingers in a roundabout movement, your head shifting back against the wall. "Please, please don’t stop” you asked unobtrusively, gazing toward Pablo's spellbinding eyes. “Not even when your brother is on the opposite side?" Pablo ridiculed faintly.

You turned your head to take a gander at the slow down entryway concluding that even you remained invisible or heard then doing this present time and place with Pablo merited the gamble. Gesturing brutally you essentially moved your hips onto his fingers, asking for him to proceed. Pablo played with your clit, pushing into your pussy gradually with his cock at times.

Your core held around his cock, spasming hard around the length. Eyes moving to the rear of your head as Pablo quieted your groans with his mouth, interfacing his hips with yours as he considered his doused cock to brave your high. Eyes lustrous, legs frail, Pablo let out a delicate breath as Pedri at long last left the washroom negligent of the wicked demonstrations your were participating in not far from him.

"Mira lo que me haces hermoso." look what you do to me beautiful.

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thefantasyden · 2 months

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Thanks for stopping by~ ♡

If you would like to learn more about me, my content, or my request guidelines, please open this post.

I post fake texts, reactions, drabbles, and full fics (anywhere between 1500 and 6000 words). My texts are most commonly split between Hyung Line and Maknae Line, and they can vary quite a bit on how raunchy they are.

I'm very kink friendly and have been an active member of the bdsm community for 5+ years so I do not shy away from the vast majority of kinks, but they will always be written as realistically as possible. This means if you request heavier kinks or kinks that are on the deeper end of safety risks, I will do my best to write negotiation and consent checks into the story. I know we all love heavy fantasy content, but I personally will not write themes that imply any character is doing something against their own free will. I WILL, however, consider writing heavier themes if it is an idea that really sparks my interest.

I do not write anything involving character death or heavy angst, but I will write things along the lines of Yandere themes and criminal acts. Anything that does not involve the reader or main character being unwilling or having violent acts committed against them is fair game.

I do not write for ships, but I will write certain points of mxm interaction if it benefits the story (such as threesomes etc.)

I am VERY enthusiastic about fantasy creatures and will HAPPILY write your kinky werewolf fanfic if you ask nicely! I also won't shy away from A/B/O dynamics if you're so inclined... or hybrids. I love me some hybrids.

If you're unsure about whether I'd be willing to write your request, please take a look at my list below of wills and wonts. If you don't see what you want on there, shoot me a message or an ask.

Ult group: Stray Kids

Bias: ♡♡Changbin♡♡

Wrecker: Seungmin

Personality: I have been described as Spicy, Witty and Dog Coded. I love deeply and aggressively and usually communicate that through being cheeky, flirty and a little bit of a bully to the people I'm giving affection too.

Personal Account: @bunniebinnie for kpop, @bunniedreams for the uhhhh horny kinky stuff

Favourite Song now: Last Breath - Mark Tuan

Favourite Colour: Pastel Yellow (true yellow, not the orange or green tinted yellows)

Favourite Book: Ultraviolet

Hobbies: writing, photography, collecting plush toys, gaming, drawing

Age: 25 years old

For the astrology hotties: Libra sun, Aquarius moon, Pisces rising

Pet peeve: The sound of chewing gum

How long have I been writing: I have been writing fanfic for about 7 years. I had 2 old blogs, one dedicated to nct and one for stray kids, but I chose to start over after an extended hiatus (moving, work, life).

You may recognise some of the content here, and if you do, please feel free to ask. I will never copy another persons work, but I may repost some of my old work that I enjoyed with some edits.

Do you write cnc?

A: Depends on the context, but generally, I will say yes as long as there is no violence (oitside of impact play) and I can write it with negotiation and context.

Is your favourite content to write?

A: I really like doing drabbles and anything Hybrid related. I love hybrids. Have I mentioned that I love hybrids¿

Do you only write Sub Reader?

A: Nope! I'm a switch through and through so I will write whatever role the people are interested in!

Do our request have to have kink in them?

A: Not at all! I love wholesome vanilla content just as much as the messed up spicy stuff.

How do we send requests?

A: Just jump into my ask box and ramble your idea to me. You can be as detailed or vague as you want, but please include if you want it to be written without the use of pronouns!

Why do you add banners to everything?

A: I just think they're fun! I like my cute lil doodles.

Do you have any other blogs?

A: ooft, quite a few! @thefantasydenarchives for all my asks and polls, etc so I can keep this blog somewhat organised, @bunniebinnie is for my kpop fic recs and anything else kpop related, @markmein for my NCT content (needs work) and @bunniedreams for my personal stuff

Will write:

Edge play kinks, fictional creatures (hybrids, werewolves, ghosts), ot8 scenarios, threesomes and anything above a threesome, dubious consent, unhinged member x reader, violence NOT committed against reader, ftm reader, marijuana use.

Will not write:

Pregnant reader, lactation kink, barely legal, high school, young reader x much older member and vice versa, dad stray kids, parent reader, hard drug use, violence against reader, character death, heavy angst, cheating.

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rainbowbarnacle · 6 months

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HEY TUMBLR

I'm turning 39 on December 3rd, and I realized am critically low on art in my little life. I would like more art, please. (I would have liked to have posted this on November 3rd but that's brain fog for you, making everything all wonky.)

If you are able to and so inclined, 💗 THANK YOU 💗, please consider these three options:

SHOW ME YOUR ART. Any art. Drawing, painting, embroidery, jewelry, making little friends out of sculpey, anything! LINK ME YOUR STUFF. My ask and submission boxes are open, tell me what you're up to. :D

Doodle me something digitally, as simple or complex as you want. It can be anything that pops in your head, (octopuses in teacups and the like are *always* welcome) but art from my more recent FFXIV or TMA fics would make me *deliriously* happy: pick a scene, any scene, show me how you imagine it looks like because I am *dying* to know. <3 I will absolutely credit you and include the art in said fic.

If you know someone doing art commissions, I'd *love* one of those, feel free to nab me a slot or commission them something for me that you think looks cool. :D

In conclusion:

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luveline · 2 years

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hi!! im pretty sure your requests are open, but if they’re not feel free to ignore this. i keep thinking about holding steve’s hand or like holding onto his bicep. especially in public and with a shy reader. i just want a steve and i want him to hold my hand when im feeling anxious

thank you for ur request! ♡ shy!gn!reader | 1k words

Steve can see you hesitating from the corner of his eye. The lunch club (minus its Californian counterparts) have all somehow managed to fit inside the 733i, survive the journey up to Indianapolis city centre, and now meander through a mall that feels bigger than Hawkins' in its entirety.

Robin and Max are talking about something Steve is too 'boy' to understand, apparently, and you're getting your ear talked off by Eddie and Dustin, though their nerd explosion seems pretty self contained. You're more of a bystander than an active part of the conversation.

And Steve knows it isn't their fault that you're anxious. It's just how you get sometimes, especially in places like this: it's loud, it's busy, people rush past and don't stop.

He holds his hand out across the way. You smile at him shyly and move from Eddie's left, almost stepping on Dustin's rubber toes as you cross the walkway and take Steve's hand.

Your hand is cold. He gives your fingers a good squeeze and pulls you close, your elbows brushing with every step forward.

"Look, there it is!" Dustin says excitedly.

Steve looks forward and finds a bad dream in front of him – a nerd store. Dork paraphernalia lines the windows, merchandise and action figures, posters boasting comic books and the newest sci-fi novels.

"Oh my god," he groans, tipping his head back just slightly. The ceiling is out of reach, big glass skylights that showcase the blue sky outside. "I can't believe we're gonna waste one of the hottest days of the year here."

Your fingers jump in his. He pulls his gaze back to you and is less than pleased with what he finds. You're tense, your back a stiff board, your shoulders rising slowly towards your ears and your eyes glued to the floor.

"Don't be a jock," Max says.

"Let's not stereotype our dear Stevie," Eddie says, his voice so smooth he knows what's coming before it happens, "he's not a jock. You have to actually play a sport to be a jock. Steve's more like, a washout." He says 'washout' with feigned perplexion.

Steve knows he's only joking – Eddie's funny, and despite any better judgement Steve really likes him these days. It's the perfect invitation for some bantering back and forth. He can feel something scathing on the tip of his tongue and Eddie looks excited to hear it, but you make this really small sound that stops Steve dead. A ragged inhale.

He smiles at Eddie and the metalhead looks surprised and then understanding, him and Robin ushering the kids inside the store.

You're in your own head enough not to notice their departure.

Steve walks past the store slowly, squeezing your hand in time to a song he can't hear. "Babe, are you hungry? I saw a pretzel stand somewhere on the map."

You blink and look up at him. You finally notice that you're alone and turn in a half circle, your joined hands tugging against your chest as you do. "Where did everyone go?"

"That weird nerd haven. I'm selfish so I thought we'd give it a miss. Do you care?" he asks lightly.

Your smile is chest-aching in its softness. "No. And yeah, uh… I'm hungry if you are."

He takes his hand from yours and draws close, head inclined to yours as he takes your warm cheek into his palm. "Thanks, baby. You're the best."

Your expression slackens. Steve loves to get you like this, loves to melt you to the bone with small, soft touches and pet names that you clearly adore even when you scold him like you do.

"Stop," you whisper. You're smiling so much it barely sounds like a word, more a fond sound, the 'o' completely disappearing.

"Sorry," he says. He moves his hand to kiss your cheek where it had been and then taps your shoulder lightly. "It's this way."

Your hand tucks itself between his torso and his arm, fingers curling around his bicep. Steve worries he might blush at your careful touch, feeling shy himself for once as he walks you both through the crowd to join the line for pretzels.

"You okay?" he murmurs to you.

You step closer until the side of your converse touches his. "It's… yeah, I'm okay."

"No, tell me. Honestly," he says, gentle but pleading.

Your hand tightens incrementally around his skin. He covers your fingertips peeking out with his hand and leans down, waiting. Your head drops into his arm.

"I'm really okay, it's only…" Your voice lightens a little. "My heart's, like, racing."

He isn't happy to hear that. "God, I'm sorry. I'll try to stop being so handsome," he jokes in efforts to get you to smile.

It works. You laugh, bringing your other hand to his arm as you say, "It would be a big help."

And to hear you joking around is always something he can't handle, it makes him weirdly, stupidly happy.

He laughs a riot and you come apart, drifting away from each other to giggle. Your hand stays firmly wedged in that place between his arm and his chest, but your grip relaxes.

"Just- you know. Let me know if you need to find somewhere quiet, okay?" he asks.

"I will. Thanks, Stevie." You say it like you're embarrassed, your eyes to the floor again. He wrinkles his nose.

"You're welcome. If you wanna find somewhere secluded for other reasons, I wouldn't be opposed to that either. For your information only, of course."

"Other reasons," you repeat wryly, giving him a knowing look from under your lashes.

He winks at you. It's not a good wink. You giggle and a lot of the stiffness you'd held before falls away. Not all of it, but Steve thinks it's a pretty good start.

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things

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reesegotnopieces · 9 months

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something i think we as an art community need to get into the habit of doing

gonna be real here.

share artists work. especially work of smaller artists you come across. it helps, you don't understand.

Interact with them.

share their ocs with others

if they take requests/allow asks, ask and contribute something. come back every so often and give ideas

invest in their characters, or their artwork, their stories

retweet their art.

share their art in discord servers,

share thier art with your friends

comment on their work

draw fanart of their ocs

join their discord servers, talk a bit.

join their dtiys

share their commissions

i'm personally getting a little tired of seeing comments of people wishing they could do more, when there are always alternatives when you can support someone. I really feel like nowadays people forget that there are many many many different ways you can support someone that does not involve money.

I'm also personally more inclined to think that, if somebody is getting recommended from someone else, other people are willing to listen rather than the source sharing it themselves. Think about it, it's like finding a funny meme video. a show, a food you find it enjoyable, so you want to share it with others - so why not do the same with art you come across? It's the same sentiment. You're helping the person get out there, and get more eyes on their work, and if it's good enough to share to other people, other people [in my opinion] would be more likely to pay attention to it.

Simply sharing work so it allows more people to see it, can make the smallest of differences.

Leaving a comment on my work can mean the world, it shows how much you appreciate the art.

Not all compliments have to be something deep, you don't have to hyper analyze art to leave a nice, heartfelt comment.

All of these things are free, and I'm pretty sure on at least 90% of websites that allow you to share things, you have the ability to delete them, so it's not even permanent on your profile. You can always delete it later if you choose, but I really feel like people in general should get into the habit of sharing work that they like, talk about it more. There's so many different artists on this platform as well as many others that don't get the opportunity to be seen because people are not taking the initiative.

Because social media have all seemingly gone in the garbage lately, I really think that people should get into the habit of doing these things. Doing more than simply liking the post and continuing to scroll. If something catches your eye, I really think that you should be sharing it. If that character is pretty, considered drawing them something, a random change in pace wish somebody who may never ever receive fanart of any kind, getting something can make a difference.

---

tldr. i think people should get into the habit more of trying to support artists in ways that aren't monetary, especially smaller artistss they come across. I really feel like a lot of opportunities are not given to these small artists (giggles, me!) because people are not taking the initiative to share their work as opposed to popular artists. You can support people in ways that are not monetary, but I genuinely feel like a lot of these things on this list are often neglected or even forgot about because it's not something I tend to see normalized unless the artist is already well known.

#vent #rant #black artist #art ramblings #reese.rambles #psa #artist problems

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unorthodox-oblivion · 1 month

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Namaste, Losties!

With the help of @obsessivedaydreamer, I started Lost Game Nights last year, in November. It used to be just us and our closest mutuals, and we’d have a blast every time. Since then, we’ve expanded a little bit. But we’ve had a few additions to the fandom since, and it feels like a good time to go even further.

For the sake of maintaining anonymity, we use an app/website called Wire (which works on Android, iOS, and browser) and, while it requests your email for sign-up, you’re not required to share any information beyond a username — which might as well be your Tumblr username or anything else of your choice — to participate.

Usually, we go through three games in one game night: Gartic, Gartic Phone (which, I promise, is different), and Stopots. We are open to new online games, as long as they are free, easily playable — or explainable — and follow Wire in their anonymity level.

Our Games

Gartic is a simple draw-and-guess game. The game sorts us into a drawing order and we each take turns choosing a word out of the two options it gives us to draw for the group. You get points as people guess your drawing correctly and if you guess correctly, too, when you’re one of the people guessing, but the order of those correct guesses can mean more or fewer points, depending on how quick you are!

Gartic phone is a cross between Gartic and Telephone. To start, each player writes a sentence. Then, those sentences are randomly distributed across the players, and each person draws a picture inspired by the sentence prompt. When time is done, those drawings are then distributed among the players and each person describes what they see. Then those descriptions go out and you draw a picture and so on. At the end, you get to see each stage of those initial sentences compiled into albums. There are also a few other modes that follow a similar idea.

(drawings and prompts are allowed — and encouraged, but that’s up to you! — to be LOST related)

Stopots is what most people know as Scattergories. There are categories and we all get the same letter at the same time and we have to fill said categories with words starting with the selected letter. Whoever fills every category first gets to press the stop button and end the round for everyone, otherwise, fill as much as you can before the timer runs out! At the end of each round, you get to see all the answers and vote if they are valid or not.

Some general rules and guidelines

RESPECT IS A MUST. While this is Tumblr and we don’t usually have to worry about this, I feel inclined to reinstate that we expect you to be respectful of your fellow fandom-mates and competitors. Racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc., as well as any kind of insulting name-calling, will not be tolerated and you’ll be banned from future game nights.

While the games listed are COMPETITIVE games, it is expected that the main goal is to have fun with friends. Winning is fun, but so is getting to spend time together and getting to have a communal activity. It’s important, for the overall experience for everyone, if the games are played as expected. Don’t be a sore loser and mess with the game just because it’s not going as you wished it to.

#just nalu and zona bringing people together #lost game night #lost #game night #lost tv #lost 2004 #lost abc

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elronds-meleth-nin · 1 month

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Bruinen's Eastern Shore - Part 2: By Mo(u)rning's Light

I know it took a bit, but here's part 2! If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist, please feel free to let me know!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Elrond x Reader

[A/N: I haven’t seen RoP, and I don’t plan to, so this is Hugo Weaving’s Elrond. All of my knowledge regarding this universe comes from the Jackson movies and the books.]

Warnings: Slow burn, Elf x Human romance, age gap (obviously), mentions of combat, death, blood, undefined magic (I'm winging it so don't think about it too hard), injury/recovery, grieving, death of a parent (mentioned not seen), elvish singing.

~*~

My dreams were erratic at first, then they faded into something calmer. The screams of my dying people transformed into the sounds of a nearby waterfall and the gentle hum of a low, soothing voice. Was he singing or speaking? Perhaps both?

A flash of armor - somewhere between red and purple in hue - coupled with a kind, smiling face and pointed ears swam through my mind.

I knew that face, but my mind was too slow and fuzzy to place it with a name. My father would've berated me for forgetting, surely, but, why was I so sure of that when I didn't know who he was? My thoughts were lethargic, as if they were coated with honey as I tried to remember what I'd forgotten.

After a time, the armor he wore was changed for a tunic and a set of robes that looked softer than anything I'd ever before felt.

He was beautiful.

A light, amused laugh trickled over my ears and I wondered if I'd spoken aloud or if he could read peoples' thoughts.

"Sleep, brave lady," he urged, and his voice was so hypnotically soothing that I felt inclined to obey, "sleep and recover your strength. You are safe now."

And so I did. Oblivion was seductive, drawing me in as easily as a moth to a flame. Eventually, the warmth on my face coaxed me into opening my eyes as I wondered hazily whether I had truly transformed into a moth during my slumber.

But, it was not so. The sunlight streaming into the strangely elegant room confirmed my hopes. This place was like no other I'd seen before. There were no Orcs, no bleeding people, no abrupt, terrifying death. Only light, gentle and joyful, whispering its congratulations to me for surviving.

This was the home of Elves. It had to be!

Turning my head slowly, I noted that I was alone in this large, beautiful room. Adorned as though it belonged to a king rather than an injured mortal woman, this room boasted silk curtains fine enough that they were practically translucent. Bookshelves lined two of the four walls, arching over the doorway. Every bit of fabric in the space, including the blanket which covered me, was of the highest quality - not a stitch was out of place.

Cautiously, I tested my muscles, and, finding that there was no pain beyond the vague, lingering soreness that always followed physical exertion, I sat up in the plush bed. Instinct brought my hand to my sternum, and to my relief, my pendant was still there. I hadn't lost it!

As I moved, a nightgown as light and comfortable as a cloud whispered reassuringly over my skin - my clean skin.

I'd obviously been tended, healed, and bathed in my unconscious state. I felt a rush of gratitude for whomever had drawn the short straw and been subsequently tasked with removing the grime and black Orc blood that had dried on my skin and in my hair. I could feel no trace of any impediment as my fingertips ran through the strands near my shoulder. Patting the top of my head lightly, though, I discovered a pair of small braids running along either side of my scalp and merging at the back.

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them back. Someone had taken a great deal of time to care for me.

Rising carefully to my feet, I savored the texture of the warm, smooth stone beneath my feet - a simple pleasure that a life on the run had not afforded me for some time. The closest comparison in recent memory was a large stone on a riverbank that had been warmed in the sun, but even those could cut the soles of one's feet if caution wasn't utilized.

A tall pair of doors composed of wood and glass stood open, allowing a breeze inside and revealing a balcony bathed in sunlight. As soon as I reached the doorway, a gasp escaped my lips.

Laid before me was Imladris in all its glory. The sound I'd heard before wasn't just one waterfall as I'd assumed, but many. Cascading and caressing the landscape, spraying water droplets so completely illuminated that they appeared to be crystals flung from a treasure chest, they joined at the valley floor. Leaves grew from centuries' old trees in all shapes and colors, their rustling creating a symphony when the breeze caught them. More flowers than I could ever possibly count or name bloomed and blossomed, filling the air with sweet perfume, and upon the breeze were a few floating musical notes.

Was I entirely certain that I hadn't died? A place as lovely as this was beyond imagination! Surely, this could not all be real...?

"I am pleased to see you awake, but I did not expect to find you out of bed so soon, híril vuin." A familiar voice called from behind me, soft and soothing, not unlike the silence of his entry. I turned to face my visitor, and my breath caught in my throat.

Truly, even my mother's drawings could not do the Elven lord justice. His beauty was incomparable. The sunlight seemed not only to be streaming into the room, but emanating from within him, as well. His long, dark hair cascaded down his back with twin strands pulled in front of his ears, looping into intricate little patterns. His eyes, though gray, sparkled with joy and life. With the focus of such a gorgeous, regal Ellon solely on me, I could scarcely breathe.

I also felt woefully under-dressed in comparison. There I stood in naught but a nightgown when he was in robes of finer quality than I'd ever seen before.

"Lord Elrond," my voice came out embarrassingly rough and shaky from disuse. How long had I been out? "Forgive me, if I'd known you were coming–"

He held up a hand to halt the tidal wave of apologies that was certain to spill from my clumsy mouth.

"You owe me no apologies," the Elf murmured, giving me a warm smile. "Like your parents before you, I welcome you to Imladris with open arms."

Elrond's eyes were soft as he appraised my appearance. More gracefully than my muscles could have allowed, he walked toward me.

"How are you feeling?" Concern creased his brow as he offered me his hand. I took it without thinking, realizing a beat too late how rough my own fingers must feel compared to his own. "Do you have any lingering pain? Does anything feel wrong?"

"No, my lord. Your healers have done their jobs exceedingly well." At my statement, the Ellon smiled and allowed his thumb to skim over the back of my hand. "If I may, I'd like to thank them in person. I was rather a mess when you saved us."

"Caring for you was no trouble, I can assure you, my lady," he said, and before I could protest, he gave me a mock stern look. "I speak for none but myself. I tended you personally."

My eyes widened at that new piece of information. The Lord of Rivendell had healed me?

"My lord, I am incredibly grateful for your efforts, truly I am, but you needn't have wasted so much time on me."

With an indulgent smile, he looked into my eyes and lifted an eyebrow.

"Mellon-nin, you are well enough to stand on your own two feet again. I do not consider anything that I have done for you a waste of time," his assertion was gentle and sincere, sending butterflies swarming in my stomach. I needed to keep a tight leash on my emotions, otherwise I'd end up looking like an idiot. If I embarrassed myself in front of Lord Elrond after everything he'd already done for me, I was certain that I'd be so mortified that I'd have to leave Rivendell never to return. "Now, my lady, if you might have a seat upon the bed, I would like to check you over once more."

"Of course, my lord." He guided me back to the divinely plush bed with a hand over my lower back. With a soft, affectionate smile, Lord Elrond sat by my side and grasped my hands. Warmth flooded through me, and I couldn't help but wonder if that was magic.

"Your actions in the river...may I ask if you have done anything like that before?" The Elven lord asked as he assessed various points - a bruise on my shoulder that had already mostly disappeared, an angry, fading, red line where an Orc sword had found its mark, and various other places where no evidence was left of what injury had previously existed.

My cheeks burned at how closely he focused on both me and his work.

"In a way," I murmured as he pressed the backs of his fingers lightly against my forehead then my cheek. "Only small things, though. Silly, trivial little tricks."

He lifted his eyebrows in an encouraging, almost playful manner.

"Might I ask about the nature of these little tricks?" His fingers skimmed down my jawline, and I struggled to suppress a shiver.

With a mischievous smile, I took a deep breath to steady myself and looked over at the pitcher of water upon the bedside table. A flick of my fingers, and a bird made entirely of water formed standing atop the pitcher. It tilted its head and fluttered its wings as a real bird would, then took flight, swirling around the room. Its sparkling body whizzed past our heads, flapping its wings, and in a moment of impulsivity, I caught Lord Elrond's hand in mine and turned his palm upward. The bird's tiny water-feet landed in his hand, folding its wings down and looking up at him.

Only then did I allow myself to glance at the Elf lord's expression. The smile that played across his much-too-attractive mouth sent a bolt of satisfaction through me. To actively give a person like him a moment of wonderment...that was a heady sensation. It was very little in repayment for all that he had done for me, but it was a beginning.

"Incredible," he breathed as the bird hopped lightly across his palm. "How much of a strain does this place upon you?"

"Almost none at all. I learned to make shapes and objects with water when I was little, and I practiced whenever I was bored. For a child in a group of nomads, you there is a surprising amount of downtime between chores," I explained allowing the bird to changed into a large, watery, rose bloom upon the lord's hand. It wasn't even half as beautiful as someone like him deserved. "When I got older, one of the other children saw me practicing by the river, and these tricks became a way to entertain the little ones."

The laughter had lifted the entire camp's morale during those long, slow treks through the mountains or across barren stretches of land when setting up tents became monotonous. My father had been afraid of allowing me to use my abilities for quite some time, but even he had to admit that sometimes that bit of levity was just what was needed to lift his peoples' spirits.

My father. My people. So many had died, yet there I sat in a plush bed, creating silly little shapes in water. Had any lived besides myself?

As if he could sense my mood fading, Lord Elrond's eyes met mine just in time to see my own smile droop. With a flick of my fingers, I lifted the water from his hand and allowed it to dampen the soil in a few of the plants on the balcony.

Unable to meet my host's gaze for fear of what I might see, I lifted my chin and asked the question to which I dreaded finally having an answer.

"How many of my people survived?"

"Including yourself, my lady, three still live." Elrond's voice was full of sympathy and comfort, despite the horrible reality of what had transpired. "Five were brought here, but two had sustained wounds too severe for us to treat in time. I am so sorry."

Three. Assuming the other half of our people went unnoticed by the Orc hoard when we split up - and that was a big assumption - that meant there were only fifteen left. We'd been down to twenty four after the initial attack that killed my father. With nine more gone, I didn't know what to do exactly.

I nodded my head slowly, blinking away my tears and forcing myself to look at my host once more.

"The others who lived...may I see them?" He agreed easily.

"Of course, my lady. I shall take you to them," Elrond murmured. Practically gliding across the room, he plucked a soft, light blue robe and a pair of matching slippers from a small alcove.

With my arm looped through his, we walked down a long hallway lit only by the sun. The rest of his home was just as gorgeous as the single room I'd been in, but I did not absorb much of my surroundings that day. My emotions and obligations to my people occupied too much space in my mind for anything else to make an impression.

I heard him before I saw him - the angry, stubborn, gruff man who'd tried to call me away from the water the day we'd gotten into such trouble.

Surprise must have been etched across my features, because Lord Elrond released a quiet huff of laughter as we neared a pair of double doors.

"Ah, yes. Mekor has been asking after you in...his own way," my host stated, and I knew immediately what he meant. Mekor had likely been demanding to see me in a rather less-than-polite way. "Unfortunately, I have not been able to allow him out of bed. His leg will take some time to fully heal. That has not stopped him from embarking upon several unplanned excursions to attempt to find you, however."

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of me. That sounded like him, alright.

When we pushed the doors open, his rather loud promise to one of the healers that he would 'gallivant as much it damn well took' ceased.

"There is no need for such drastic measures. Your lady is awake and quite capable of seeing you now," Elrond called as we walked toward the grumpy man's bedside. His leg was bound and heavily bandaged, laying atop the bedding presumably to keep him from sweating through his dressings.

"Lass, do you know how badly you scared us? What in the name of everything were you thinkin' runnin' back into the water like that? You could've been killed!" He spluttered angrily for a moment, but I was too used to his behavior to be bothered by it.

"I'm glad you're alive too," I said reaching out and grasping his rough, weathered hand in mine. Sitting gingerly beside him on the bed, I nearly fainted when I saw tears gathering in his eyes. He gripped my fingers with a fierce vengeance.

"Foolish bloody girl. What would your father have said if I let you run off and get killed?" Lord Elrond pulled the healer aside, and the pair spoke in hushed whispers on the other side of the room. He was trying to give us a moment's privacy while also ensuring his most stubborn patient didn't try to put weight on his obviously broken leg again.

"There was something different about that last group of Orcs, wasn't there?" I asked quietly, and my friend's gaze turned somber and angry.

"Aye, lass. Those weren't your garden variety filth. I've already spoken to Elrond about them. Those were soldiers. For so many of them to have Warg mounts..." The grizzled man shook his head slowly. "Something is stirring in the dark corners of the world. Something that doesn't want people like you, me, and your father to keep fighting."

I looked at him curiously, and he blinked as if remembering something.

"But, there will be plenty of time to discuss that later," he murmured changing the topic. I tucked that statement away for a day when we were both recovered.

Mekor and I spoke quietly for a few moments, in which I was told that the woman he'd taken a fancy to, Tannen, was the other survivor. The two who had reached Rivendell but died from their injuries were an old soldier called Algun, and a younger one around my age called Garatan. I knew them both in a peripheral manner. I was acquainted with all of my father's fighters and had trained with each at some point, but some I knew better than others.

After several long moments, a few more affectionate scoldings, and a promise that I'd help keep him from going out of his mind since he wasn't allowed to walk around yet, the doors opened once more. A young Ellon walked straight over to Lord Elrond, and after delivering a whispered message, both the lord and his messenger approached our sides.

"Forgive our interruption, but I think you both might like to know that your companion, Tannen has awakened," Lord Elrond said, and I knew precisely what Mekor would do. Pushing him back down on the bed when he tried to get to his feet, I gave him a stern look which paired surprisingly well with our host's continuation. "I realize you wish to see her, and you will be able to on the morrow. I wish to have her rest abed for one more night to be sure of her recovery, but I swear to you that if her health permits, you will see her tomorrow, Master Mekor."

He looked fit to be tied at Lord Elrond's statement, but with a glance at me, he let out a resigned sigh.

"Fine. Fine, but I shall hold you to that, laddie." To his credit, Elrond took his irritation in stride, an easy, amused smile finding its seemingly customary place upon his lips.

"I would be disappointed if you did not. For now, however, I believe your lady is in need of nourishment. Spending nearly four days asleep can take quite a toll on the appetite." I couldn't argue with his logic, and neither did my friend.

I did, however, have a bone to pick with the little somersault that my heart performed when Lord Elrond offered me his hand and a warm smile.

When he went to check on his guest that morning, Elrond had expected to find her awake, yet too weak or tired to get out of bed. She was strong, of course, but since she was mortal, her recovery time would be longer than that of his own people. He'd frozen in the doorway, however, with confusion knitting his brow at the sight of the empty bed before him.

A quick glance around the room nearly made his heart stop. The Elven lord's lips parted in surprise. Standing in the doorway that led to the balcony was not a frail, injured woman as he'd expected to see, but a goddess bathed in sunlight.

And, when he'd broken his silence and she turned to face him, her eyes met his, freezing his breath where it lay in his chest. She'd gazed at him with awe, but he doubted that she recognized that the feeling was very mutual. Elrond had noticed her beauty when he was tending to her, of course, but he'd been so focused on healing her that he'd not allowed his thoughts to linger. To do so would have been highly inappropriate, and was, as such, not the time to allow himself to become distracted.

Nor was it the time when he checked her over, asked about her powers, or took her to see her irritable friend. Elrond had heard of Mekor by reputation, of course, and he was secretly pleased that the ill-tempered Man had survived. Despite the barbs that were tossed his way when he'd put the old soldier on strict bedrest, he was glad that someone who was so determined to get back to his lady - who had fought so fiercely to protect her - still drew breath. Such loyalty could not be feigned.

She'd been more subdued than before when he brought her back to her chambers. Upon their return, the table near one of the windows held a tray of food and a pot of herbal tea which would help her regain her strength. It was a special blend that Elrond had perfected over the years in his capacity as a healer.

As the pair sat and ate together, the Elven Lord could not help but notice the dark mood that settled over her. Although she tried to hide it, she was being tormented by her thoughts.

He had seen that look before - minute flashes of grief that she attempted to keep out of his sight, her shoulders tensing as if she was carrying the weight of all Middle Earth on her own. Many of his warriors had been plagued by the same darkness when they returned from battle, wondering why they had survived when so many others had not. Some recovered. Some sailed for Valinor when they could not find the strength to move forward.

No. He could not allow this to go on. She was descended of both Elves and Men. She had the ability to process her grief and allow her pain to transform into that which would strengthen her. His lady might need some assistance to begin the process, but there was a sort of quiet power in her eyes. Elrond saw it every time he looked at her. By the Valar, he would do whatever it took to ensure that she would not fall. Not to this. Not to grief. That emotion had consumed too many of his people...had sent too many of them sailing to the Undying Lands before their time.

He would not allow this pain to take her. She'd seen so many horrors in her brief time on Middle Earth. If he could take even an ounce of her pain and use it to heal her, the Lord of Imladris was resolved to do it.

But, it had to be soon. It had to be that night, before the pain took root in an irreversible manner. They'd both experienced losses many times, but this was different. This was close to her heart.

When she attempted to hold back a yawn and failed rather spectacularly, Elrond was tugged from his thoughts as a smile played across his lips. She gave a sheepish laugh, and he suggested that she get some rest. They'd been talking for several hours at that point. If he truly planned to help her tonight, she needed to conserve her energy.

Taking the empty tray with him to deposit in the kitchens, the Ellon excused himself and strode down the corridor. He'd made it halfway back to his study when Lindir caught up to him.

"I have done as you asked," the younger Ellon said to his lord.

"Then the preparations have been made?" Elrond asked as the pair continued down the hall.

"Yes, hir-nin, but are you certain that tonight is truly the right time?" Lindir had a point, and if it was anyone else he would risk waiting, but for her he was not willing to place her future in the hands of chance, especially if what he suspected was true.

"I saw her pain...it already hangs over her like a cloud. If she is to move forward, then we must do this." He was accustomed to his own grief - he had, after all, lived for so very long...had known so many people.

"But, is she not still exhausted?"

Pausing before the door to his study, Lord Elrond turned to face Lindir.

"She is tired, yes, but she is more resilient than even I could have predicted. She is ready. She needs this release." Her Númenorian blood was potent, that was for certain. It did not matter that she was descended from the race of Men. She also had Elvish blood in her veins. She was Dúnedain, even if she did not yet know it - perhaps one of the most unique that had ever been born, if he was interpreting the signs correctly. She could handle this.

Soft notes floating upon the night air drew me from the realm of sleep. A strange yet familiar prickling sensation curled across my skin, caressing my face, my neck, and my arms where the sleeves of my borrowed nightgown ended.

As light as a whisper, my mind supplied an answer: magic.

Magic was in the air. The realization was somehow both comforting and intriguing. When I finally mustered the energy to open my eyelids, a voice joined with the faint strains of music, and I looked toward the balcony.

There, with the silver circlet upon his brow gleaming in the moonlight and a set of robes as deep as the night sky adorning his figure, Lord Elrond stood singing. My breath caught in my throat even as his voice danced through the night, filling the Hidden Valley with an aria both gentle and mournful. When we spoke earlier, his voice had sounded lovely and soothing, but this stirred something deep within my soul.

It was ridiculous, because he was on my balcony in the first place, but I felt as though I was intruding upon something incredibly personal.

One-by-one, several other voices joined with the lord's, harmonizing and adding several haunting layers of melancholy dimension, turning his aria into a duet, then a trio, a quartet, continuing on until there was a full-fledged choir of ten. He stood facing not into the valley, but with his left side toward me.

As silently as I could, I slipped out of bed and took a slow step toward him. Cupped gently in Elrond's hands was a smooth, round, stone lantern glowing white. It was obviously fueled by something other than fire. The light caressed his features as affectionately as a lover's fingertips, and before I could even think of moving, his eyes met mine.

The glow of a thousand stars, the wisdom of all the ages of the world, and the grief of a painful loss danced through his irises as I stood paralyzed. Extending a hand in my direction, the Lord of Imladris offered me a silent invitation.

As I approached his place on the balcony, I glanced quietly around, noting that other ethereal lanterns and their bearers dotted various spots around the valley. How many others were involved in this? And what was this, exactly? I didn't dare ask aloud, lest I interrupt the haunting choir of voices in their mission.

When I reached him, Lord Elrond's hand guided both of mine to the lantern in his grasp. Looking between the seemingly living radiance in our hands and his eyes, I watched as the light grew between us, seemingly fed by the addition of my touch.

I knew without asking that this wasn't just a sad melody. This was a lamentation for the nine lost in our flight across land and river.

But, there were ten lanterns...

A single tear spilled down his cheek, and all at once it hit me. The tenth lantern was for my father. Twin tears of my own escaped my eyes as the music swelled, as the voices grew louder.

He saw my grief just as I saw his.

Neither of us looked away from the vulnerability we were both displaying so openly. Neither of us released the lantern between us. The song began rattling around in my ribcage, jostling my heart and shaking free every ounce of pain that I hadn't realized I'd started bottling up. Though I didn't know the lyrics, I caught a few Sindarin words that I recognized, and one that puzzled me.

The light in our hands pulsed brightly as at least a dozen more voices joined in. Smaller lights bloomed to life in their hands all through Imladris, and I must not have been able to keep the wonder off of my face, because a flicker of a sad smile crossed Elrond's lips as he began lifting our hands higher.

His arms were longer than mine, and I had to take a step closer to remain in contact with the strange, magical lantern. As I watched, the light floated up and away from its thin, nearly transparent stone rim and into the sky. The other bearers of the original ten lights were experiencing the same phenomenon, and after a few moments, the fleet of smaller bright dots followed in their wake.

The Hidden Valley was filled with stars, rising ever upwards toward the heavens. As far as I'd heard, very few mortals had ever been honored by the Elves upon their deaths, and never like this.

As the music diminished, voices fell slowly away, taking with them pieces of the heavy ache that had settled in the hollow spot in my heart. First, the many who had joined last, then one-by-one, each of the other nine singers went silent.

Then, it was only Elrond singing the last few mournful notes. But, there was something different about the words, now. They were lighter...more hopeful. Setting the darkened, empty lantern aside, he took both of my hands in his large, warm ones as the last notes flowed effortlessly, beautifully off his tongue and into the night.

The physical contact felt like an anchor point keeping me tethered to the ground when I felt like I could float away in the wake of such an outpouring of emotion. The air still hummed with magic when I found myself reaching up and gently wiping the tears from Lord Elrond's cheeks. I hadn't even meant to do it, but I couldn't help myself. An Ellon as kind as he did not deserve to have tear tracks dry on his handsome face.

It hit me, then, that I had taken an enormous liberty, but instead of batting my hands away, the Elven lord returned the gesture with a soft smile.

His touch lingered for several long moments even after my own face was dry, and something passed between us, then, that made my heartbeat stutter in my chest.

No, I was obviously imagining things. A trick of the light, that's all it was. When he wrapped his arms around me, however, I couldn't ignore how wonderful it felt to be safe, to be cared for...to be seen.

~*~*~

Elvish Translations:

híril vuin = beloved lady

mellon-nin = my friend

~*~

Taglist:

@asksizworld

#elronds-meleth-nin fic #Elrond x Reader

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mamayan · 9 months

Text

Warning: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat•NSFW•Yandere•Dark Themes•BNHA/HxH

Just a short list of yanderes you’d be better off dead than getting taken by, ranked least to worst in my opinion. This is VERY dark, and will describe ways these yanderes may accidentally or intentionally kill you. I keep it theoretical because I don’t like it too much either but you won’t see me willingly write these characters as yanderes much because they are SCARY.

Let me know if you want a part 2, and feel free to throw in comments of those you think would make the “better dead than alive with them” list!

First up on this list is Izuku Midoriya, a delusional yandere with a wildly deranged way of treating you.

He first and foremost, does not care if you love him or not, he’s going to make you act like you do though (which is torture itself). Izuku is a caretaker sort of yandere, but he’s abusive in going about it. Not being good in the bath? He’s dislocated your shoulder so you settle down. Wanna be mouthy and not eat the dinner he’s trying to feed you? He’s dislocated your jaw/slapping you so hard you spit blood/ gut punching you.

He’s also very much into your tears, but it’s up to you how you cry in the first place. Whether it’s from pain, fear, sadness, happiness, or overwhelming pleasure, Izuku loves your tears. He loves any reactions he can draw from you that makes you cute and vulnerable for him. He will absolutely break bones and even make you watch him harm your loved ones to make you comply. He won’t kill you, no never, he loves you, but if you make any sort of mistake… he’ll make you wish he didn’t love you so much.

When you do become compliant and obedient, because he will make you, it’s hell then too. He goes crazy with a power trip when you willingly (not really) submit to him. He will humiliate and degrade you (without ever cursing at your or even using words like slut/whore/worthless/etc.) “You look so cute on your knees like that, and look! You did it all by yourself this time, such a good pet, I’m so proud. You didn’t even wet yourself or make a mess this time!” He’ll remind you of the time he knocked the literal air from your lungs to drop you to your knees, which caused you to be unable to control your bladder.

He’s damn creepy too and won’t let you use the bathroom alone, sometimes won’t even let you wipe. And no, this isn’t just reserved for urine. The first time you held it so long and accidentally pissed yourself out of retaliation, he forced you to wear a diaper for a month until you were “potty trained” again.

Sex with him is not mild either nor does he care if it’s consensual, he makes you beg for your release or risk being edged until you go insane. He won’t let up. He’s also a big man as an adult, and he’s not inclined to be gentle in bed with you.

His treatment is a disgusting combination of infantilization and straight brutality. He will simultaneously make you act/feel like a helpless infant, and if you don’t comply with that treatment or lash out in any way, he’s fucking you up. If you put up a fight long enough, it could enrage him and cause him to accidentally snap your neck in his attempt to force you to calm down.

10/10 a yandere I personally would rather die than have. He’s awful. Delusional and thinks he’s doing nothing wrong, he’s the #1 Hero! He can’t do anything wrong! A literal monster. Comfort yourself inside though that you as a darling to Izuku would act as a barrier preventing him from unleashing his unhinged sadism on the world. Instead it’s you that gets that burden. In your own way, you’re a hero too. Tread with caution.

Next on this list is Shizuku Murasaki, don’t let her cute looks fool you, she is an absolute nightmare to have as a yandere for two very specific reasons.

She’s forgetful and forceful.

Shizuku will kidnap you, lock you away from the world, and then forget about how long she’s been gone from home. In her mind, it’s only been a few days, you should have plenty to eat. What she fails to remember is how impossible it is for you to escape or call her or anyone for help, as all the food disappears and the water shuts off due to her not paying the bill. Starvation and dehydration have nearly killed you multiple times. To the point you cry and beg, have severe panic attacks, when she leaves you for even a moment. Shizuku will also mistake this behavior for love, and while so cruelly cooing and soothing you, tell you she’s only going for a few hours a few weeks.

When you aren’t worried for your next meal and survival, she’s also terrible at providing you with even basic necessities like tooth paste, soap, laundry detergent. Her forgetfulness in paying water/electricity/sewage is also a major downfall in your comfort. You’ll freeze in the winter and possibly die of heat in the summer. She forgot to give you extra blankets.

Oops.

Trash has piled up and grown moldy?

Oops.

No water to shower or drink in days so you’re forced to get water from the toilet and use a bucket for your waste?

Oops.

Passed out from lack of food or nutrition?

Oops.

She’s downright a menace when it comes to taking care of you, but somehow extremely good in keeping you locked up. You have permanent damage to your nail beds from trying to claw your way through the wood of the front door. You might be saved from punishments because she’s lazy in that regard, and while she doesn’t hit or yell at you no matter how nasty your behavior, there is no denying she takes what she wants. You’re hungry and dehydrated? That needs to wait, she wants to cum and she wants to do it on your face. You feel disgusting and caked in your own sweat and grim from a week with no shower? She wants to use her new strap she picked up, so it needs to wait.

You’ll live in constant fear of dying due to her neglect and it will be a painful, lonely, and sadistic end.

11/10 sadistic without even meaning to be. The severe neglect will kill you eventually, it’s a slow and agonizing end you can’t help fighting whether you like it or not. You’ll die in your own filth, maybe from a combination of air toxicity, infection, starvation, and dehydration. Better to off yourself early if I’m being honest. She might even forget you died in her grief when she finds you, so don’t expect a proper burial, she’ll let you rot in the bed until another Troupe Member (sadly likely Phinks) has to remove your corpse and clean up.

Next we have, Overhaul, or Kai Chisaki on this list. Don’t let his handsome appearance fool you, while he may be beautiful, inside he is mentally ill to the extreme. You think he’s a bad man for abusing and torturing a little girl?

Kai is just as strict of a yandere as Izuku, but combined with his warped view of you and his OCD, it turns downright terrifying. He kills everyone you love before he takes you, because in his eyes they are literal vermin that only wish to taint and ruin you. He will calmly explain in detail who he killed and how he did it to you. If that isn’t enough, any pets you have? Dead. Immediately. They’re filthy animals that will taint you. Human contact? Forget about it. You will never feel skin on skin contact again in his care, not even his. I see a lot of depictions of Kai being a sex god as yandere, but as a real one? Even in his own eyes, he’s not worthy of touching you. He exults you to such a degree that you aren’t even really human in his eyes. Of course, you’ll be treated like the finest glass porcelain doll ever crafted, but aside from sitting on a shelf to rot for the rest of your life, then nothing else is happening. You’ll likely go insane in his care, because of the stark white room he’ll keep you in, so devoid of germs or bacteria it’ll be nauseatingly clean. The lights will go off for you to sleep for only 8 hours, but after that it’s fluorescent lights glaring at you for the remaining 16 hours of the day. Your bathroom won’t be any reprieve. You’ll have absolutely no personal comforts. Food will be the SAME THING for every meal, breakfast, lunch, dinner, and so bland and boring you’ll struggle to accept your new life.

Kai, like Shizuku, is also a yandere that wont hit you… but he’ll use his quirk on you. He’s not above taking you apart violently and putting you back together over and over and over.

Eventually you may even try to anger him just for him to take you apart. To feel something. He provides no entertainment. None at all. Have fun with your own mind and solitude in that white room.

Kai is also the most likely to have a mental break, so if you cross a certain line, he may kill you accidentally. Things like trying to seduce one of his men (for escape purposes), trying to harm yourself, trying to harm him, being filthy (you might cringe at the thought of wiping your own feces on the walls, but eventually shame and embarrassment will leave you).

He’s most likely to snap and try and clean you himself, your act of rebellion by dirtying/hurting him/harming yourself will likely leave you in a situation of…

a). He accidentally drowns you in his panicked state of washing you.

b). He uses some type of chemical (bleach) which leaves you severely injured/burned and you succumb to your wounds before medical attention can save you.

Kai is out of his damn mind, thinks of you as if you are a God/Goddess, and if you break that delusion, he will snap. I also think he’d preserve your body somehow, and you’d end up in a Snow White case so he can always look at you.

12/10 batshit crazy and very scary. No human autonomy. I just can’t help but think he’d 100% use bleach to try and “clean” his darling and that’s not a fun way to die at all. Also, his form of worship is so skewed and warped it leaves nothing but a bad taste in my mouth. He’s the idolize and stick on a shelf type, a very lonely and isolated way to live. At least Shizuku let’s you watch TV when the cable/electrical bills get paid. Kai won’t even let you have a book. Prisoner of war PTSD which will eventually lead to real insanity from that white room and isolation if Kai doesn’t kill you first.

#dead dove do not eat #DARK THEMES #YANDERE #MDNI #MENTION OF DEATH #shizuku murasaki #Kai chisaki #overhaul #bnha #hxh #hunter x hunter #let me know your thoughts #i definitely fear yanderes like this #Izuku Midoriya

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