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m1d-45 · 4 months

Note

just a small idea since you said you had a lil writers block: since wushi (lion dance) is used for important events/occasions and to honor special guests, maybe you could write about how ga-ming does a lil performance for creator?

- curse anon

vanguard’s fortune

note: this is not what you asked ! i thank you so much though

word count: 1k

-> warnings : written prior to 4.4, lots of “if you know you know” spoilers for liyue archon, story, and hangout quests, but nothin big

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept

< masterlist >

despite everything, ga ming knew he was lucky.

he certainly didn’t feel like he was. aside from his continued streak of bad luck at his performances, you never attended any of his shows and your vessels never gave him so much as a second glance. you’ve walked right by him on the street before—and yes, he knows you don’t ‘see’ most of liyue, but he was in the middle of a dance. he’s certain that word must have spread at least somewhat, but even when he put on a show during the last lantern rite, you didn’t attend. it was as if you didn’t even know he was there, skipping his meager stage to meet up with yun jin.

part of him wondered if you simply disliked liyue, but that was easily proven false. you took the time to accompany chongyun on his patrols, xiangling was more than happy to talk about when you’d helped her in a competition in mondstat, and you’d even fetched ingredients for the wangsheng consultant last year. it was the simple fact that you had nothing against liyue, and he was an outlier.

and yet, he was blessed. vision wielders were rare on their own, and only a thin sliver of them had constellations. he was incredibly lucky to be one of the few within your spotlight of attention, but he never felt the love that was supposed to come with it. yes, he had a vision, the lion carved on the back a figure he’s long memorized, but even the latest of liyuen rotations had a chance to exist by your side. though the others always tried to reassure him, their words fell flat. xingqiu had recieved his vision long before he became a vessel, but he had several turns in the sky to try. chongyun was largely ignored and ningguang was rarely missing from the jade palace, but that information didn’t help as much as they thought it did.

he didn’t care that he wasn’t a vessel (as much as one couldn’t care about such a thing) so much as he was ignored. you fought by ningguang’s side and helped yanfei out of the chasm, but he’d never even heard his name thrown your direction. it could be argued that he was being selfish or even egotistical, but he didn’t think so. sword and strongbox secure transport agency was a well-known name throughout liyue, and yet you’d never so much as heard a rumor. it didn’t affect his business—nor did he want your attention for business purposes—but with you helping a film show (at least now he knew you enjoyed theater) in fontaine, he may or may not have been hoping that yilong wharf’s name might have been passed your way.

it hadn’t been, though. his days went on and he continued his rounds as usual, doing his best to promote his dance and maybe getting a few mora thrown his way in return if he was lucky.

but that was fine. irritating, sure, but fine. liyue was in the tail end of preparations for this year’s lantern rite, and he was set on attending. as soon as the ministry of civil affairs opened applications for performers, he’d done his best to secure himself a stage. nobody had given him a secure word, though, saying that it was “up to divine guidance” as if your traveler hadn’t taken the transport up to the jade chamber last week. yes, you often found other things to do during lantern rite, digging into liyue’s past, but you still attended the scheduled events. you still walked the streets and saw the stalls, and there was no way that the entirety of the main road was already taken up when he’d made a point of asking early.

it was because they saw him as a guard first and a dancer second. most people did, and he was lucky they’d given him uncertainty over a guaranteed rejection. the only reason they did at all was because of the constellation etched into his vision, and he was lucky to have that too. he was lucky to have this chance when most street performers could only dream of performing at the lantern rite.

‘lucky.’ it was an accurate word, but one he was beginning to get tired of hearing.

it was fine, though. he was determined—his vision blazed as he left the ministry’s office, a constant warmth at his side—to prove himself, determined to perform for you. he didn’t know when his chance in the stars would be, or when he’d have his time by your side, but he would make the most of each day until then. when, not if, he did, he would do everything in his power to make the best impression possible.

he gave a few polite waves to various merchants as he walked through liyue, making the familiar trek over the bridge and past the gate. the millelith didn’t stop him, and he didn’t stop to say hello, only lingering long enough to acknowledge them with a quick nod. he knew liyue’s hills and they knew he did too, easily navigating to a quiet, flat space of plain. the threat of hillichurls was a constant outside the harbor, but he didn’t let that stop him, confident despite the growing twilight.

ga ming reached into his inventory and pulled on his mask, hands easily finding the controls for the massive puppet. he took a breath, then began to dance, his feet sweeping over the quiet grass.

he had no guarantee when or if he’d receive the chance to chance to win your favor. but if you chose to have him on your stage, he was determined to put on the best show you’d ever seen.

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muzansfangs · 5 months

Text

You always wanted me.

Starring: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader; mention to past relationship with Sanemi;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, modern au, vaginal sex, creampie, unprotected sex, language, use of alcohol, drunkness, drunk sex but consensual, breeding kink, semi-public sex, mention to past relationship with Sanemi, cheating thought in past relationship;

Plot: A night in a pub and a failed date led you to drink away your sorrow. Unfortunately, the main reason behind your problems shows up and your tipsy state does not help you to keep your tongue tied. Too many shots of tequila, the man you have always wanted so ardently and a restroom were the ingredients required to make your heart burn that very night.

Author note: it is rare for me to put the author note on top of a one-shot, but in order to prevent possible drama to happen, I needed to clarify a thing: this fic is an old work of mine posted on my old Ao3 account and my old Wattpad profile. While I cannot log anymore into Ao3 for some reason, I can still log into my old Wattpad profile and I will try to gradually delete my old works as I fix and rewrite them! Do not worry and enjoy this little scrap!

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Another one!” you slurred, slamming the empty glass on the counter before you. It was your fourth shot. You were not used to drink that much, especially in a public place. The thing was you definitely had a good reason to drink down almost a whole bottle of tequila alone. You had just been stood up by a guy you had asked out to forget about your crush.

Your real crush. Or in other terms, the reason behind the loop of failed dates you had fallen into because he was so unapproachable. You wished you could forget about him, but nothing and no one could ever take his place in your heart. Why did he have to he that kind of guy that literally ruin your rationality and the chance to enjoy the company and the small attentions other men could provide you?

Disheartened, you sighed and propped your elbows on the counter in annoyace, waiting for the barman to fill your glass once again. No matter how hard to tried to ignore him, you always found yourself back at daydreaming about his piercing orange and red eyes.

Why could you not forget about him and his dazzling smile?

Whenever someone else had a chance to pick your interest and finally make you move on, something methodically went wrong. Maybe you had been jinxed.

A small smile curved your lips, when the guy in front of you carefully slided the drink in your direction. As soon as the smile appeared, it dropped, though. Someone hastily grabbed your glass and elegantly brought it to his lips, preventing you from enjoying your feast. How dare him steal your drink in such a dreadful night?

You were about to throw a punch at that rude man, but when your head snapped towards him you gaped in shock. Blinking skeptically, you gawked and your mind went blank for several seconds. That must have been a joke.

“What the Hell?” you babbled out, rolling your eyes in despair. If bad luck had a name, it would have definitely been yours. Those combined phenomena were indeed persuading you to believe some witch had cursed you for real.

“Fancy meeting you here, Y/N! Mind if I join you? You seem pretty upset. What's happened?” Kyojuro casually asked, sitting right next to you.

“You happened! - you asserted, darting your eyes on the barman - Another one, please” you asked, or better pleaded him, folding your arms over your chest.

Now you truly were irritated. Not only he pestered your mind day and night, but he also had the audacity of stealing your drinks and clubbing in your favorite place.

The blonde man chuckled and shook his head at you “Come on, don't hold a grudge. I have actually done it on purpose. I have to confess that I have been watching you for a while now. I don't think you should drink that much, you know?” he said softly, his eyes trailing up to your face. For a second, he seemed genuinely concerned.

Kyojuro Rengoku had always had a crush on you. He would have asked you out, if Sanemi had not messed up his plans by fooling around with you. After your break-up, he had noticed some changes in your behavior. You seemed not to care about anyone anymore. It was like you were running away from feelings and Kyojuro could not stand the rumors of you sleeping around with tons of strangers to possibly fill a void in your heart. It hurt him.

He was meant for loving you, not those bottom-dwellers you occasionally spent your nights with.

“So you're a watcher now! How cute! I don't need a babysitter, I can take care of myself” you blurted out, squinting your eyes and trying your best to act cool.

Unfortunately, your body had had enough. Your vision was getting blurry. You hated to admit it, but you were actually glad he was there to watch over you, even if you wanted to rip his face to shreds.

But just like your body, your mind began to wander in the very places you were trying to keep it awat from.

You glanced at him, your heart sinking into your chest at the sight your eyes had been blessed with. Kyojuro, drink in hand, was moistening his lower lip with his tongue. He seemed to be mulling something over. Maybe, he was just offended by your arrogance, or maybe he had a date and he was regretting having approached you.

Actually, you did not care. Happy, sad, angry or thoughtful it was Kyojuro. It was him, the only one your heart desired.

Oh, the things you wanted him to do with his tongue.

It was not a good time for fantasizing, though. You clenched your jaw, reaching your hand out to grab your glass, but you lost your grip on it and the shot slipped from your hand. The liquor inevitably spilled on Kyojuro's white shirt, making him stand up in shock. You wanted to apologize, your mouth was already opened, but you gawked when you spotted the outline of his toned, chiseled chest underneath the material of his shirt.

“Uhm... I— Kyo, I'm sorry! Let me help you” you stuttered, searching for a tissue in your purse. How stupid of you.

He was soaked, how could a tissue solve his problem or make it better?

You groaned in frustration, frenetically rummaging through your bag when Kyojuro's voice stopped you.

“Wait, it's okay, really! Let's go to the restroom. The dryer might help me” he reasoned, suddenly encircling your waist and pulling you towards him. Was it real? You blushed and tried to distance yourself from him, but the only reaction you got in return, was being held even tighter.

You frowned and shot him an interrogative glance, which was returned by a bright smile “Hey, you know, I can walk without you leading me around like a toddler” you pinpointed, rolling your eyes in feigned contempt. How could you deny you loved the feeling of being in such a close proximity with him?

Kyojuro, on the other hand, sighed and pushed the door of the restroom opened to let you in first “If you were fine, we would have not had a problem now. Why do you always have to be a bitch, anyway?” he asked you, undoing the first buttons of his shirt right away.

Not even firing something back, you froze solid and turned your face to the opposite side of the room, trying to ignore the urge to contemplate the celestial vision dazzling you in the restroom of a pub. You were not capable of saying a word. Your brain was fuming.

'What the fuck, Kyojuro?! Can't you just leave?' you thought, rubbing your temples to ease the pressure a tad bit.

“I’m talking to you. Look at me” he said then. You felt his gaze boring holes on the back of your head, but you knew that facing him meant losing your self-control.

“You know, I am fine staring at the wall. Don't you—…”you tried to talk back, but Kyojuro forcefully spun you around. He was done with you and the childish attitude of your drunk self.

Your hair whipped your cheeks, as you found yourself lost into a pair of orange and red orbs scrutinizing your face. Well, that was your end.

Your lips parted and you gulped nervously at the sight before your eyes. A shirtless Kyojuro was holding both your wrists in his huge hands, your eyes travelling down his toned chest and abs. Could it be even worse? Yes, it actually could.

“I'm still waiting for an answer” he stated, arching a thick eyebrow up.

You cleared your throat and shook your head “I'm not going to give you one” you murmured. Was it really that hard to understand that your behavior was your only defense against your love for him?

After all, you had screwed up your long-lasting relationship for him.

Kyojuro stared at you for a few seconds, then he swiftly pushed your back against the wall. Your hands were easily pinned up above your head, as he towered over you in a iron grip. The message was crystal clear. He did not want you to move.

You were stunned in silence, your breath hitched, as his face was now dangerously close to your mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you breathed out, your voice betraying you. You liked this physical contact way too much to keep on fronting.

The blonde man in front of you cracked a smile “I'm trying to solve the problem once and for all. I know why you and Sanemi broke up. — he started — He told me you screamed my name, as you climaxed around him”.

He knew.

You blushed and gawked at his words. He had just thrown facts at your face. You had been exposed. Was it really necessary denying the truth any longer? No, it was not. What about your sense of shame? It was long gone, after the amount of alcohol you had gulped down. You were not even mad at Sanemi for having blabbed out your little secret. This was just above you.

You glared at Kyojuro, tilting your head to the side to contemplate his face properly. He was handsome as Hell. You wanted him and you wanted him now. You had always wanted him.

“Well then, I guess the comedy is over. I should be thankful to Sanemi for having exposed me like that. I finally can get what I wanted from the very beginning” you said, before hungrily smashing your lips against his ones.

It took a moment for him to realize what you were doing, and maybe you were pretty shocked too by your boldness, but once your taste indulged on his tongue he gained courage and kissed you back.

Your tongues danced together, soft moans left your mouth, when Kyojuro inevitably began to lead the way.

You felt like you were on a burning ship, without any lifeboat you could jump in to escape your fate. Still, you did not fight for your life. You were happily embracing your destiny. You had chosen it yourself. You had broken the curse affecting you for years.

When his lips left yours, your breath was uneven but your eyes sparkled with a savage lust he could not ignore and it was enough for him to unbuckle his belt and slip his calloused hand underneath your dress.

Words were superfluous, you both needed your release. Your hunger was fuel to his burning desire. Kyojuro was usually the calm and collected guy everybody got along with. Getting to see what laid underneath that cheerful and respectful façade was sending you straight to cloud nine.

The moment his fingers made their way beneath your panties and reached your slit, he sighed and began to stroke your bundle of nerves in circluar motions “We won't need much foreplay. You are so damn wet” he whispered, drawing invisible circles on your clitoris.

You were breathless. Whimpers and whines erupted from your throat as you bucked your hips against his hand. You were such a mess he envied Sanemi for having got you before he did.

“Please, please, Kyojuro, I need you... Don't waste time” you breathed out, grinding your hips against his hand.

Hearing those words falling from your lips, the blonde man shoved two fingers into your core and slowly pumped them in and out of your entrance. You loved how dominant he was, you loved the way he seemed to ignore you and your needs. Everything he did was magic.

“Gosh, you're such an impatient brat” he joked, watching your mouth resembling the shape of an o. Sinful moans erupted from your throat and you digged your nails onto his shoulders not to collapse onto the floor. You were close and he knew it. He could feel it by the way your walls squeezed his fingers, almost sucking them in. Therefore, he hastily pulled them out of you, much to your dismay.

You whined for the sudden emptiness you were experiencing and your eyes locked with his one in a pleading glance. Kyojuro unzipped his pants and pulled them down enough to allow his member to spring out of his boxers.

You blushed, as his hand found its way to your dripping core again. He easily pushed your panties aside and hooked your right leg up on his hip for a better access.

You could feel his hot breath fanning your lips and his bulge pressing against your entrance, collecting your juices as a lube.

“Are you okay? Can I go ahead?” he asked, kissing you gently then.

You nodded and cupped his cheek in your hand, pressing your forehead against his one “Drunk or not, I love you” you whispered, confessing your feelings after years of fears and tears.

Kyojuro held you close to him and finally entered you, earning a loud moan of pleasure from you. He waited for you to adjust to his size, a strained moan rumbling from deep in his chest as he pushed himself into you slowly, inch after inch. Gasping and moaning softly, you felt your walls adapting to him and once he was buried deep into you, Kyojuro gently pulled out a bit. He started pounding into you slowly but passionately, filling you in places no one had ever reached before.

You screamed his name, not worrying about being in a public place and Kyojuro muffled your moans with his tongue anyway.

“Tell me how badly you wished it was me and not him back in time. Tell me. Tell me how many times you wanted to fuck me on your shared bed” he stated, slamming into you a little faster now.

You moaned his name, your legs shaking as you lolled your head back in ecstasy “Countless times” you said, as he gripped your face by your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“I'm not pulling out, you know that?” he rasped, hitting the perfect spot inside you as your eyes locked.

It was the perfect ending, something long overdue. You kissed him enjoying every minute of it until the very end. You came with a loud moan, he following right after you. You felt his seed filling you up to you cervix, as he peppered your face in small, affectionate kisses. He was perfect, this was perfect.

“You're coming home with me tonight” he breathed out, caressing your cheekbones before pulling out of you.

You were finally his.

AUHTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Welcome to ‘AUTHOR NOTE PART TWO’, lmao. I intended to post this yesterday but I really fell asleep after dinner on the couch. I only woke up when my boyfriend came back home and his dog began to run and bark to tell me he was opening the door. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! I love Kyo with a passion and I wanted to show him some love too!

As per usual, likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreacited!

TAGS: @doumadono @electronicwitchcollection @mrskokushibo

#rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x you #kyojuro x reader #rengoku smut #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n #kyojuro x y/n #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer smut #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader

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samwisethewitch · 8 months

Text

Two Banishing Powders from a Southern Folk Witch

In Southern folk magic, the formula used for a banishing spell varies a little bit based on whether you want to banish an actual person (basically getting them to leave you alone) or a spirit/energy/abstract concept.

Banishing formulas for getting rid of living people tend to focus on causing irritation and discomfort to get someone to leave, which may be less effective if they don't have a physical body. Banishing formulas for spirits/energy are more about deep cleansing and making the space inhospitable for undesirable spirits. The herbs and minerals a practitioner might reach for are different in these two situations.

Below are two all-purpose banishing formulas from my practice: one for living people, and one for spirits.

GTFO Powder

For getting rid of unwanted (living) people.

You will need:

The spiciest red pepper flakes/powder you can find (If you like spicy food, use something so hot you can't eat it in large amounts. I like spice and I use Szechuan pepper flakes, but cayenne will work, especially if you know the person you want to banish doesn't like any spice at all in their food. Discomfort is the goal here.)

Black pepper (Used here to cause mild inconvenience/discomfort/bad luck)

Salt (Good, old fashioned banishing)

(Optional) dried, crumbled wasps nest*

(Optional) dirt from the side of a busy road or highway**

*This is actually much easier to find than you'd think, but be careful not to get stung! This is a traditional ingredient in Southern folk magic because wasps are known for how viciously they protect their homes. Fair warning: this is a mean ingredient (since its purpose is to cause pain/discomfort), so I'll leave it up to you whether to include it or not. If you're dealing with a stalking or abuse situation, wasps nest can give you the extra oomph you need to help keep the abuser from returning.

**Only include this if you're trying to make someone physically leave your space or relocate to a different geographical area. And PLEASE be careful collecting this dirt! My advice is to try to collect it during a less busy time of day and to stay several feet away from the actual road.

How to Use It:

When you mix up this powder, speak over it and state your intention. You can enchant this powder for all-purpose banishing, or you could mix up a batch to banish a specific person. Either way, it is important that you tell the powder what it is meant to do. I like to speak directly to the spirits in the powder and ask them for their help.

Traditionally, you would use this powder by sprinkling some in your target's shoes, but that isn't always possible. You can use it in poppet spells by adding it to the feet of the poppet for the same effect. You can also use it to dress candles, add it to jar spells, or incorporate it into other types of banishing spells. Warning: do not burn this powder, as it can cause irritation or injuries to the lungs.

If you need to get rid of a specific person, you'll want to customize the powder to only work on them. The easiest way to do this is with a taglock (an item that has a physical connection to the target). Some of their hair would be ideal, but you can also use a photo of them or even a piece of paper with their name and address written on it, like you were addressing a letter. You'll want to burn the taglock to ash, then mix this ash into the powder. Make sure you burn it outside, because the smoke will be unpleasant.

You can use this powder to keep someone away from your home or another building by sprinkling a line of it across all entrances to the building. If you do this, make sure you've customized the powder for that person with the method above -- otherwise you may accidentally banish ALL visitors.

Ghost-Be-Gone Powder

For getting rid of unwanted spirits or psychic energy. Can also be used to banish non-physical things, like an illness or a bad habit.

You will need:

Asafoetida*

Salt (Again, used here for good, old fashioned banishing)

Garlic (You know how garlic is supposed to repel vampires? That's basically what it's doing here.)

Rosemary (Used for cleansing and banishing)

(Optional) dirt from a church, temple, or other place of worship**

*Honestly, I've used asafoetida by itself for banishing and gotten really good results. This is definitely the Big Daddy of cleansing herbs in Southern folk magic. You can usually find this in international grocery stores or get it online for fairly cheap, and it's one of the few herbs I think are worth going out of your way to get. Warning: a lot of people complain about the smell of asafoetida, but it honestly just smells like a stronger, more pungent garlic to me so your mileage may vary.

**While dirt from a church is traditional, use something tied to a religion YOU believe in. If you aren't Christian, don't use church dirt. For myself, I might use dirt from the Wiccan temple near my home or from another pagan holy site. The point here is to call on your personal spiritual allies for help. If you are an atheist or agnostic, just leave the dirt out entirely.

How to Use It:

When you mix up this powder, speak over it and state your intention. You can enchant this powder for all-purpose banishing, or you could mix up a batch to banish a specific spirit. Either way, it is important that you tell the powder what it is meant to do. I like to speak directly to the spirits in the powder and ask them for their help.

To use this powder to remove a spirit from your home, use it to clean your floors. You can sprinkle it on the floor, let it sit for a few minutes, and then sweep or vacuum it up.

I don't recommend burning this powder as incense, but you can use it in spells. You can place a ring of it around the base of a black candle or add some to a jar spell, for example. You can also use this to cast a circle around your spellwork if you want to protect it from interference in the spiritual realm.

A Note on Cultural Appropriation

Every time I post some of the more folksy parts of my practice online, I get asked whether it's okay for others to use these spells. Specifically, people want to know if these spells come from a closed tradition or if they have to live in the South to use them.

The folk magic tradition I practice is not tied to any closed cultural practice. I will never post anything from a closed practice online. So yes, you can use these powders no matter who you are or where you are from. You don't have to live in the South or be from the South to practice Southern folk magic, but you will get more out of your practice if you have a connection to the region.

On a related note: some of y'all may have noticed that these powders are similar to formulas used in Hoodoo. The GTFO Powder specifically is very similar to Hotfoot Powder, which is used for a similar purpose in Hoodoo. Hoodoo is a semi-closed African-American tradition that is typically passed down in families or communities. When I post about my practice, I do occasionally get comments accusing me of appropriating from Hoodoo.

Here's the thing: my practice does have some overlap with Hoodoo, because I am in the same geographical region and part of the same regional culture that Hoodoo comes from. Over hundreds of years, ideas get exchanged across racial and cultural lines. Just like some elements of Hoodoo come from European traditions, some elements of white folk magic in the South come from African roots. It's not appropriation -- it's a natural result of living in multicultural communities.

All of this is just to say, what I do is not Hoodoo, but I think of my tradition and Hoodoo as cousins. There's some shared DNA, but also a lot of differences. How I do things might look similar to how a Hoodoo practitioner does them, but the theory or exact ritual process may be different.

#southern folk witchcraft #southern folk magic #folk witchcraft #appalachian folk magic #southern appalachia #folk magic #banishing #banishing powder #banishing spell #witchcraft #witch #green witch #green witchery #kitchen witch #kitchen witchery #long post #mine

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science-lings · 1 year

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Midnight thought of the day: I feel like Wild deserves to be a little annoyed after the whole thing in the doodles where Twilight wouldn’t let him hunt and Legend wouldn’t let him shoot seagulls, like we have to remember that it’s implied that this guy cooks for nine people several times a day. And meat is probably really good for their high exercise kind of lifestyle.

Like he’s perfected cooking while traveling and knows how to maximize meals for days full of cardio without ending up exhausted and it would irritate him that people are trying to limit what few things he can make and make it harder for him to get enough food for them all anyway.

He’s kind of the hunter of the group, he’s the archer, he’s the one Legend worried about getting him when he’s in bunny form. And even when others help him collect ingredients by fishing they do it in the slow way that may not provide enough food for them and get mad when he’s being efficient about it.

#I just don’t think it’s easy feeding nine young men three times a day only using a campfire #kinda want to write a malicious compliance kind of fic where Wild shows them how hard what they’re asking actually is #I still have writing requests open so if anyone wants that just send me an ask #linked universe #lu wild #linked universe wild #this is kind of a rant so I apologize if it’s kinda incoherent and repetitive

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rea-grimm · 6 months

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Werewolf Kid

Kid is a werewolf and owns a bar called Victoria Punk. His entire crew works there and they are werewolves.

Kid can tell by the smell that Reader is his mate. He gets along with you.

The reader has no idea about his world.

You never really went out to bars, but you ended up getting wooed by Luffy who insisted you go with him and his gang. He led you to a bar that was located on the outskirts of town.

The bar was called Victoria Punk - the wolf's den. Werewolves were supposed to gather there, but you didn't believe that.

A skull with flames was drawn on the sign. The interior was dark in vintage style. There were two bartenders at the bar, both wearing black spiked aprons with a fiery skull as a logo. Both had wolf ears sticking out of their heads.

You walked over to the bar and ordered a drink. You noticed that both bartenders had long black fingernails that looked more like claws and wolf ears. A bartender with long blond hair mixed your drink.

But he was pushed aside by the other bartender with fiery red hair, red painted lips and black lines framing his eyes. He was arguing with Luffy about something. But by the way, they smiled, you knew they didn't think so.

During this, the bartender looked in your direction several times

"What would you like to drink?" he asked you as you finished your drink.

"What would you mix for me?" you asked him with a smile.

“Leave it to me,” he grinned smugly and began to prepare your drink.

He sized you up with his eyes before putting all the necessary ingredients into the shaker, shaking it while doing a few tricks with it. Finally, he poured a drink into a chilled glass and sipped. With this, he pushed him in front of you. You blew out the fire and drank. You haven't had a better drink.

After that, he mixed you a few more drinks before you finally learned his name. It was Eustass Kid.

Since then you started going there regularly, for a drink or two. You hit it off with Kid and went there more to see him than to drink. You liked to talk with him there, even if sometimes it was teasing the other, guessing and the like. But you had the impression that it was just some kind of banter between friends.

Sometimes you had the impression that there could be something more between you. Sometimes you caught him staring at you, stopping or not arguing.

You were both single, but Kid never made a move on you, so you tried looking elsewhere. You started texting with a guy through a dating site and you were supposed to meet for the first time at the Victoria Punk bar.

You were at the bar a few minutes early and Kid automatically poured you your favorite drink.

"Why are you so dressed up?" he asked you teasingly while cleaning the glasses. You saw him looking at you.

"What do you think, do you like it?" you asked him, standing up and turning around so he could examine you.

"Not bad. What is the opportunity? You have a date?” he asked.

“I do,” you admitted, sitting down on a chair. you noticed that at that moment, he stopped. "I met someone and we're supposed to meet here," you explained.

Kid frowned at that, his ears straightened and you thought a growl escaped his throat. However, this was lost in the surrounding music.

From that moment, all the good humour disappeared. Kid mumbled something before walking to the other side of the bar. You sighed and sipped your drink.

A few minutes later, your date finally arrived. You sat down at the table and chairs where you had more privacy. Killer served you and brought you drinks.

You chatted with him for a while, but you didn't get along with him. Something was missing and you looked for Kid. Your eyes met a few times, but each time he did, he frowned and looked the other way.

You sipped from your glass, drifting your thoughts away. You didn't expect it to be so boring and one-sided. This one didn't know how to stop and was talking total bullshit.

You sighed as a red-haired bartender appeared beside you with an irritated look on his face.

"Get out!" he growled at your date. He gave him a confused look before waving him off.

"I said get out of my bar!" he thundered again, taking him by the collar and hauling him into the air.

"What's your problem?" didn't understand your date.

"You're bothering my guests," he growled, dragging him to the door. Your date slipped out of his grip, gathered his things and left.

“Thanks,” you told the kid in relief as he walked past you back to the bar. Kid just mumbled something in response and looked away from you. However, after a while, he came back with a new drink for you and sat there with you for a while.

You were glad he was there for you. At first, he scolded a little why you brought such idiots there, but then he calmed down and even asked you how you were doing.

You hung out there with him like that for a little while longer before you decided it was time to go home. You said goodbye to Kid and left.

Then everything went back to normal between you and Kid. You hoped it could be more, but you didn't want to push the saw.

A few days later, you headed to Kid's Bar again in the evening. You looked forward to him and his cheeky remarks.

You walked into the bar looking for red hair. You didn't see him anywhere. You sat down at the bar and Killer walked over to you. He offered you something to drink, but you were more interested in where the owner was.

Killer explained to you that Kid was home. His boss had the day off today. That made you a little sad. You finished your drink and made your way to leave. Killer wore a mask, but the other employees didn't look their best today. As if they were sick or under the influence of some pills.

You headed to Kid from the bar. You wanted to surprise him and maybe you could do something. You walked up to his house and rang the doorbell. However, the whole house was completely dark and it seemed as if no one was home.

You tried knocking on the door again, but again to no avail. You tried to call him, but no one picked up. You finally wrote him a message and slowly walked home. Only now did you notice how the full moon beautifully illuminated your path.

You had barely gone a few meters when you heard a growl. The first thing you thought was that you ran into some street dog. However, when you looked back, what you saw was much bigger than any other dog. You would compare it to a wolf.

You immediately ran away. However, the animal was on your heels. You turned into an alley and realized too late that it led nowhere. You were trapped. The animal was getting closer and threatening to pounce on you.

You were afraid that was the end of you when another werewolf, even bigger than the one that was here now, came rushing from the main road and jumped on him. As they fought in front of you, blocking your escape route. The gravel was rolling next to you along with the bricks. You picked up one brick in case of emergency and planned to defend yourself with it. You put it in your purse for greater efficiency.

The newly arrived wolf won and the loser ran away with his tail down. The winner, however, stayed in the alley, looking at you. You could see in the moonlight that he had fiery red fur. He reminded you a bit of a bartender.

The werewolf was closing in on you. You were scared and didn't want to wait for him to pounce on you. Instead, you waved your purse with a brick in it and smacked him in the head with all your might. Something snapped. You weren't going to find out what it was and instead, you ran away.

You heard the werewolf growl and run towards you. You were afraid he was after you when the werewolf overtook you and stopped right in front of you. You almost bumped into him.

The werewolf growled something at you before taking a piece of your coat in his mouth and starting to drag you towards the apartment where Kid lived. You hesitated for a moment to listen to him, but when he sighed and rolled his eyes like a bartender, you decided to follow him.

The werewolf led you to the bartender's apartment, which was now unlocked. Inside was chaos. The werewolf led you into the living room, motioning for you to sit on the couch. You listened. He lay down on the other half and rested his head in your lap.

As he lay like that, you had no choice but to stay. In addition, he warmed you pleasantly and soon you fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up on the couch in warm arms. At first, you attributed it to a pleasant dream, but then you realized that someone was lying next to you.

You started to panic until you fell off the couch. When you looked to see who was lying there, it was Kid who looked at you angrily because you woke him up with your wink.

He grumbled something to the effect of why you can't sleep. You knew that you were at his house, but he wasn't here yesterday. Moreover, from the way he acted as if nothing had happened, you had the impression that he knew more than you. And also that he knew.

Kid scolded you for being out alone so late because the werewolf could have hurt you. It didn't have to be the werewolf, it could have been something else.

He then complimented you on such a blow. He told you you were strong, but it wasn't enough for a werewolf. And to emphasize his words, he showed you the healing bump on his forehead. As you absorbed all this information, it dawned on you.

Your eyes fell on his wolf ears sticking out of his hair. The whole time you thought it was some kind of hi-tech headband. That it was all just for the image of the bar, Only now did you realize that it was all real.

Kid just laughed at your reaction and stated that as his mate you should get used to it.

Ai inspired by him Character or Dopple

#one piece #one piece x reader #werewolf kid #kid x reader #eustass kid #werewolf #Monster Piece

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yevmarie · 4 months

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Light My Fire | Chapter 4

Masterlist

< Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 >

Plot: having lost everything you are drowned in depression, which had happened to you a year ago. Now you need to struggle with the apocalypse as well with no sparkle in your heart. But there is one man who can light your fire to live.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Pronouns: you, she/her

Warnings:

angst;

mentions of depression;

swearing;

differences from the main plot may occur;

bad English (not my first language).

Honestly, not a big fan of this chapter, but I hope you'll enjoy it. Or at least find it fine.

Taglist: @your-shifting-gurl @bae-live-0

You started feeling worse both mentally and physically as several days had been passed. Not accepting Rick’s death did a bad thing to you leading to crying most of the time, losing proper sleep, and isolating from all the group. Carl was not an exception as Shane started stealing his attention and behaving like a father. The child in turn couldn’t resist it which was natural; you couldn’t blame him.

The only thing that cheered you up a bit was Daryl’s trophy after one of the runs he took part in. He brought you a jezve and a coffee package, asking if he could join you in the mornings. You found it cute and caring. The ritual involved sitting together in silence, sometimes pointless talking. If you both were in a mood you joked causing different looks from the group but Daryl and you didn’t care at all.

To distract you started helping in the camp kitchen because you liked cooking. You also used to spend lots of money on culinary classes to dig into the hobby. Both for pleasure and getting this damn serotonin your brains craved while the therapy.

But the magnificence didn’t last long until Daryl suddenly stopped joining you in the mornings probably for three days in a row. He didn't talk to you during the days and tried his best to avoid you. You didn’t blame him but found it ridiculous. And damn it disappointed you as Daryl was the closest person in the group although you knew nothing about each other. But you didn't push on him, just coped that you would do it on your own. This was definitely you didn’t have to get used to.

One day you joined Carol in the kitchen, helping her cut ingredients for the meal. You struggled to do this, the knives were dull and it irritated you. You missed your ideal kitchen with expensive knives you sharpened masterly. Thanks to the course you knew how to do it right. Not without spoiling the two at the beginning, but no one learns from the first attempt.

“Carol,” you groaned, “I’ll go and sharpen the knives. It’s just torture to cook with them”.

Carol hummed in surprise “Okay. What about gathering the group’s knives as well? I think everyone would be grateful to you for this,” she smiled.

“Why not?” you shrugged your shoulders and headed to your tent. You took a grindstone you grabbed when you were packing your things on the first day of the outbreak and your machete as it was dull too after your several runs in the forest. You decided to sharpen the kitchen knives and the machete first to then offer your help to the group, so anyone could be sure you wouldn’t waste the weapon. After some time you returned to the kitchen.

“Carol, are they fine now?” you asked the woman offering her to try cutting vegetables.

“That’s perfect!” she exclaimed smiling after the first try.

Your face blushed. “Thanks, I’ll go ask the group then,” Carol nodded in agreement.

You turned around and saw Daryl sitting near the kitchen all this time wiping the bows from the blood. Anxiety started to hit you as you decided to come up to him and offer your help.

“Hey, I’m going to sharpen the group’s knives. Do you need..?” you asked cautiously not knowing what to expect from him. As he showed his ignorance you decided to head back to other people.

“Ya ‘re so cliche,” he murmured when you turned your back on him.

“Excuse me?” you asked surprised.

“Jus’ like a manic pixie dream girl,” he almost spitted the words becoming angrier every second.

“Dixon,” you started, “Don’t let me fall for you. You seem much more clever than you pretend. Haven’t ever noticed you being interested in art,” you replied sarcastically already regretting the tone as he stood up in front of you making just several inches of distance so you could feel his body warmth. “What’s your problem?” you crossed your arms as a defense gesture seeing him clenching his jaws and breathing heavily.

“Tha’ coffee on the highway,” he started talking in his low raspy voice, almost whisper, “Tha’ first dialogue on tha’ hill, mornings, knife sharpening, running through the camp pretending to be an ideal bro for everyone,” he made a step towards you as if there was any space for it and it made you step back not to collide with his wide frame, “Swimming naked…” he silenced for a moment to make sure no one heard and returned his gaze now deeply into your eyes. “Your recklessness ‘ll kill ya one day,” he almost growled in your face thankfully not too loud so that no one still couldn’t hear him.

“Haven’t heard you complaining about this before. So it’s your ‘No’?” you just answered as if you were unbothered at all.

“Jus’ fuck off me,” he rasped and stomped back to the log and sat continuing wiping the arrows.

“Ain’ no bloomin' in a heavenly garden?” you heard flirting Merle’s voice as he was approaching you.

“Seems like that,” you replied trying to distract from his younger brother. “Do you need your knife sharpened?”

He took your arm pecking your hand. “I don’t believe these arms are made for it, but something else,” he smiled with the gaze undressing you.

You chuckled in response. “Has it even worked on any woman?”

“Not so often,” Merle replied after several seconds of silence changing his facial expression from seductive to a desperate one.

“I guess I know why. So?” you were waiting for the answer.

“Ya know how to do it properly?” his face and voice are serious now. The Merle you haven’t ever seen before.

“Yeah”

“How?”

“Used to attend culinary classes; was a big part on tools and their service. Wanna check?” you offered him your machete. Merle took it sliding his thumb over the blade making sure it’s straight and sharp. He then went to a nearby bush to do several cuts.

“Ya reassured me. I’ll bring you some,” he answered with appreciation making Daryl uncomfortable to stay longer with you both, so he grumbled something and walked away.

“Someone's jealous,” Merle whispered to you smiling giving your machete back, and walking away to his tent.

---

The white and blue room was filled with the warm sunlight. You were sitting on the chair. Palms crossed and fingers tapping because of the disturbing silence around. A fair-haired woman put on glasses and started examining your answers on the Beck’s test. After some minutes, she put them down and talked.

“Ms. Y/LN, unfortunately, I have to diagnose you with depressive disorder.” the psychiatrist’s voice sounded concerned yet calming. “This is tough as you may know, but CBT therapy in cooperation with antidepressants makes a good team to relieve symptoms and then conquer the disease. But we need your input as well. Nothing will help you without your right attitude and strict followings to guidelines.”

“Okay,” you replied silently.

“So, you need at least eight sessions of CBT and medication for at least a year to avoid probable recurrence.” the doctor said while prescribing a recipe.

“Are there any drawbacks?” you asked anxiously.

“Yes, as many other usual medicines. But if you take it regularly and correctly, nothing similar will happen. As for drawbacks, you may have headaches, nausea, probably vomiting, and anxiety attacks. But this all happens when you quit the therapy incorrectly. I mean when you drop the course without gradual minimization of the dose. Don’t be afraid, I’ll write the detailed plan, and we’ll have regular sessions so I can track your condition. Here it is.” the doctor gave you the recipe sheet.

“Thanks, Dr. Cloyd,” you smiled feeling your eyes become watery.

“Get better, Ms Y/LN.”

---

Another several days passed, perhaps a week, you couldn't remember. Everything you cared about was the permanent headache and nausea as you dropped the treatment course right after the outbreak. Just because you forgot the pills at home and there was no meaning in getting new ones as this could do worse. And you were not satisfied with the idea of someone dying just to get you antidepressants. Also, you got more anxious than before and you isolated yourself again to feel more relaxed.

This time you decided to have a run alone in the woods to find some berries and nuts for children who were ‘suffering’ from the lack of sweets. You grabbed a bag and machete and headed down the forest disobeying Shane’s guidance to walk in pairs. Although he knew you were often out alone, he seemed not to care about you. To be honest, you were happy with this as you didn't like to have any conversation with him.

You were going through the forest trying not to make much noise as the cases of walkers appearing near the camp became often. Having found a bush with berries and started to gather them in the bag, you heard someone’s moan afraid that someone in the group could be injured. You grabbed the machete and followed the noise sneaking between bushes. The moans started to be louder and repetitive which made you confused. Surely, not an injured person was whimpering. You made several steps until you found the picture opened to you and made everything clear in your mind from now on. You saw Shane fucking Lori just on the ground. The two noticed you.

“Y/N,” Shane exclaimed and froze while Lori was panicky trying to hide her bare body.

Your body was flustered with the full spectrum of emotions you couldn’t recognize separately and made two steps back.

Shane couldn't say anything but the stupidest thing that could be ever said in such a situation. “It’s not what you think.”

Your eyes sting with tears blurring the sight of your beloved one and your friend’s wife.

“No way,” you whispered and ran away in another direction. The affective state fogged your mind injecting adrenaline in your blood so you couldn't remember how you ended up at the hill, your personal space once shared with Daryl and Carl. You thanked your instincts they brought you there and didn’t let you get lost in the forest instead. You dropped to the ground and took out a cigarette almost dropping it as your hands were in tremor. Then you found a zippo in your pocket to lit a cigarette but the body wasn’t listening to you. It was too weak to roll the flint wheel. After several attempts, you finally did it and made the first drag when suddenly you felt your warm tears covering your face and sobbing left your mouth.

It was the late evening when Daryl came back to the camp from the hunt. He was too exhausted he decided to have dinner and go sleeping right after it. The man approached Carol who served food as usual.

“Daryl, I know you were on the hunt all day, but maybe you’ve seen Y/N today?”

“Nah,” he replied emotionless and headed to the campfire having got his portion.

“I’m very concerned about her,” the woman continued, her head down. Daryl was still ignoring. His basic need was a priority. “I asked her to help me today…” Carol’s voice was trembling. “I told her not to go away alone in the forest, but…” the woman wiped her tears.

Daryl’s heart flipped and he stepped back to Carol.

“What if she..?” she glanced at the man with watery eyes. “That’s my fault,” Carol covered her face with her palms sobbing.

Daryl returned the meal. “Do you remember the direction she went?” he started biting his lower lip nervously.

“There,” she pointed in the direction, “But I don’t know where exactly…”

“That’s enough for the start,” Daryl answered then went to his tent to take a crossbow.

After taking the weapon the man started from the direction Carol pointed at but he thought what if you had come to the hill or quarry? He decided to check the hill first. As if someone just told him you were right there. He slowly went down the narrow track leading to that place passing by bushes and trees, holding his crossbow but hoping he wouldn’t need to use it.

Daryl’s heart skipped a beat regretting all the shit he had told you. What if you were not there? What if you are a walker already? What if something else bad happened to you? He didn’t notice how he started imagining the camp without you and this hurt him so badly. What if he would never have a chance to tell you stupid jokes while drinking coffee in the morning and you laugh sincerely in response?

Daryl’s heart then raced imagining all the worst cases until he reached the point and saw you sitting right on the hill. The man exhaled relaxed until you suddenly got up and ran away towards the trees nearby.

“Y/N!” Daryl yelled chasing you.

< Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 >

73 notes · View notes

anonymousewrites · 8 months

Text

One Hell of a Love (Book 1) Chapter Fifteen

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Fifteen: One Hell of a Curry

Summary: (Y/N) and Sebastian find humans infected by hate and a strange butler to the Queen.

“Thank you for waiting!” said the announcer to the crowd of spectators at the Curry Festival. Soma, Ciel, Lau, (Y/N), and the rest of the Phantomhive servants stood in the front row as they watched Sebastian and the other chefs come onstage to create their curries. “Welcome to the Curry Festival for the pride of London’s curry shops!” The judges waved.

And there was Viscount Druitt, yet again. Quite the pest.

“Oh, he’s here again,” observed Lau.

“The show off,” said Ciel.

(Y/N)’s nose twitched in irritation.

“Well, then let us begin coo—!” The announcer was interrupted by trumpet fare.

A long red carpet was rolled out, and the crowd parted. Ciel’s eyes widened as he saw a veiled woman in black beside a butler dressed in white.

“Her Majesty,” he said.

“England’s Mother, our beloved Queen Victoria, has graced up with her presence!” said the announcer, bowing with the rest of the people.

“God save our gracious Queen!” declared Druitt as the Queen walked down the aisle. Her butler escorted her as the people sang “God Save the Queen.”

As the Queen and butler passed (Y/N), the butler glanced down at them, and violet eyes met (E/C). Instantly, (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. Their instincts were on edge the moment he looked at them. It was over in a moment, though, and the Queen sat on a makeshift throne overlooking the room.

“Her Majesty declares, ‘We have not seen you in some time and are sorry to have concerned you. However, our constitution has improved remarkably, and now we are even able to come and sample curry. We wish everyone well and hold great expectations for this food that my late husband loved so much,’ ” said the butler.

The crowd applauded wildly.

“Well then, to the cuisine!” declared the announcer.

The people watched in admiration as the cooks began working, adding spices and flavoring to their curries, delicious aromas mixing in the air around them. Agni and Sebastian were already miles above the other competitors in terms of skill, showing their abilities with their usual gracefulness. Agni’s right hand moved with its own mind, adding spices without even having to consider the taste. He knew it by heart. However, Sebastian wasn’t to be outdone, and the aroma of his curry was as delicious as Agni’s. And then…

“Hey! What is he doing?” cried one man in the crowd.

The crowd’s eyes widened, and murmurs ran through the crowd as Sebastian placed bits of chocolate in the curry, just as he told (Y/N) he would. West and several other were quite skeptical and derisive, but (Y/N) could see Agni’s eyes widen. He knew that the taste could work if done right.

“How did you, an Englishman, ever come up with such an idea?” said Agni.

“It was by my Master’s order,” said Sebastian.

(Y/N) grinned playfully as Ciel’s eye twitched.

“As long as my Master gives an order, I will make it happen, no matter what it may be,” said Sebastian. He smirked. “After all, I am one hell of a butler.”

“He has a way with words,” remarked Lau.

“Is that supposed to be sarcasm?” said Ciel.

“He certainly likes to play with his words,” said (Y/N), amused. “How dramatically vague he is.” Sebastian smirked at them from on stage, and (Y/N) rolled their eyes fondly.

Agni’s eyes widened as he saw them interact. To him, he saw Sebastian having someone to cook for. And him…Soma was nowhere in the crowd. Agni was alone. He shook his head and focused, picking up a basket with his next ingredient.

“A blue lobster!” gasped Druitt. “The legendary lobster said to live only off the coast of Brittany. The deep cerulean that even compares favorably to Chartres Cathedral! Wrapped in its delicate, colorful shell, it’s just like a fine lady in a blue dress.” Somehow, Druitt had a blue lobster hat on his head. “Hidden underneath that dress is a delicate sweetness of the highest quality, said to lead people to delirium!”

“As you can see, that is the highest quality ingredient for a curry,” said West in condescending satisfaction. “It is not merely some cheap little additive.”

But even as Agni worked furiously to prepare the lobster, Sebastian calmly continued cooking. He would not be shaken. So through the entire countdown, he worked gracefully until time was called.

“Time’s up! Now the judging with commence!” declared the announcer. “First up is the Persian Tub’s Beef Curry.”

“There are large pieces of beef generously mixed in,” observed one judge.

“Flavors are rather balanced, if a bit missing proper kick,” said another.

“Rather unappealing,” sighed Druitt.

“Next up, Doll Company!” said the announcer.

“This is your own home spice, isn’t it?” asked Druitt as he tasted the curry.

“Y-Yes,” stammered the nervous chef, and (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at the obviously lying man.

“What is it? One thing alone stands out, producing an amazing fragrance,” said Druitt.

“But the overall balance is poor, and it’s overpowered by the fragrance,” said a judge.

“Well, I’ll give you points for trying,” said Druitt.

“Next up is Chef Agni from the Harold West estate,” declared the announcer.

“May I present my curry,” said Agni, taking the lid of his tray off. “Lobster and a seven flavored sauce.”

(Y/N) blinked. He had made seven flavors to be served with the blue lobster. Now that was a feat.

“What amazing brightness!” cried one judge. “D-Delicious! The tender meat spreads a delicate sweetness throughout your mouth the moment you bite into it.”

“Moreover, with a seven-flavored curry, each flavor blends harmoniously with the blue lobster,” exclaimed another judge.

“Ah!” Druitt was damn near moaning. “This is…The graceful beauty I met at the ball. Like seven jewels adorning your overwhelming elegance. A heart-shaped, golden brooch, a sapphire and pearl bracelet, a garnet necklace, a cameo cut pin, and on your fingers a diamond and emerald ring! All of them bring out your beauty even more! I had my heart stolen by you!”

The crowd gasped in amazement at his analysis. (Y/N) was just glad he wasn’t referencing them again.

“Such high class!” cried the announcer. “Will the winner be decided just like that, or will we see an even better appraisal? Our final contestant is the Funtom Company!”

“I humbly present my curry,” said Sebastian, taking the lid of his tray. Three balls of a doughy substance were revealed within.

“Are you toying with us?” huffed a judge.

Sebastian just smiled as he took tongs and dipped the dough balls into a frying pan and allowed the outsides to turn crisp.

“He’s frying it?!” cried the judges. Whispers started up in the crowd.

Leave it to Sebastian to get people talking. Still, when Sebastian glanced up at them in the crowd, they had nothing but pure support for whatever the hell his plan was resting in their eyes.

“It is complete. This is our company’s curry,” said Sebastian, placing the fried dough (with hopefully curry somewhere) on the judge’s plates.

“And I’m saying, where is that curry?” demanded a judge.

“Wait just this second, this is—!” Druitt’s eyes widened as he cut into the dough. Curry, aromatic and beautiful, spilled out from within the fried dough. “From the inside, the curry is—!”

“This is the curry that our company proudly presents,” said Sebastian. “It is called a Curry Bun!”

The judge’s eyes widened as he tasted the dough and curry. “This is-This is delicious! The fried bread’s crunchy and fluffy crust creates a superb gradation together with the thick curry, which is perfectly formed!”

“What’s more impressive than anything else is the architecture that keeps in the taste and fragrance of the curry,” said another judge. “The moment you pierce it with a knife, it is all released!”

Druitt gasped as he tasted it, a blush appearing on his cheeks. He was rearing up for another poetry session. “This is the alluring person I met at the soiree! By day, a beauty wrapped in raven wings, smiling and elegant as the birds, but by night, the true face is revealed, and the teasing raven is wrapped in darkness of sinful perfection!”

(Y/N) had really spoken too soon about nothing being about them.

“I want to embrace you!” cried Druitt to his fantasy. “And yet you are always one step out of reach!”

He needs help, thought (Y/N). They deadpanned as Sebastian raised a teasing eyebrow in their direction.

“Once again, what is this high praise?” said the announcer. “Has the victor become less certain? Now we shall allow the judges time to deliberate on their verdict! During that time, everyone, please help yourself to whichever curry suits you.”

People were instantly heading to the buffet tables to try the delicious curries. Most ate either Agni or Sebastian’s creations, but people still tried the other two companies’ curries out of curiosity.

“Oh, yes, the Queen didn’t try any,” remarked Lau. “Isn’t she going to judge?”

“She probably isn’t judging out of consideration for her health,” said Ciel. “However, there is a possibility she will try a curry she is interested in. Depending on that, the judges’ impressions will change. The bestowal of the Royal Warrant is down to Her Majesty.”

“Well, well, well,” said (Y/N), smirking. “Look who’s being approached.”

Ciel’s head snapped to the stage. The Queen’s butler had approached Sebastian and spoke to him. The crowd murmured as Sebastian bowed and gave a plate with a curry bun to the butler to give to Her Majesty. There was silence as she took a bite.

“Her Majesty declares, ‘A good that is easy for even children to eat, requiring neither knife nor fork, fulfilling both the rich and the poor, allowing both children and adults to partake of it equally is commensurate with my goal of creating a kind and pure country,’ ” said the butler. “Treasuring children and the future, this kind stance moves Her Majesty greatly.

“Don’t make me sick!” cried a woman’s voice angrily, cutting through the respectful silence. An Indian woman ((Y/N) surmised it must be Mina since Agni’s eyes widened as she spoke) stood, glowing with malevolence. “That’s too sugary. Equality? The future? For this bountiful country, where there are no hardships, what a pretentious queen!”

“Mina, stop at once!” said West. “You’re in Her Majesty’s presence!”

“Get lost!” Mina elbowed him, and West went flying back from her empowered strength.

“Restrain her!” said a constable.

“Shut up! Curry is rough and spicy!” declared Mina as she easily fought off the policemen.

“Ah!” cried Druitt as he watched. “With her flowing legs carrying her and her inviting hip pose…She is truly like the Kali statue!” He was giggling happily until a constable was thrown on top of him.

“He and Grell should meet one another,” murmured (Y/N) as they readied for a fight. Around them, more people were beginning to glow with malevolent power and try to force their way towards the Queen.

(Y/N) and Ciel moved towards the dais, but several men blocked their way. “They smell…They smell of hatred and desire!” All the infected people turned towards them.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. So, they can smell demons and contracts…Interesting.

“The stench of filth,” spat a man.

(Y/N) chuckled darkly. “Filth? Darling, I am sublime.” They took the man’s arm and threw him into another few of the infected.

Sebastian leapt into the crowd with a ladle and fought off several people going for his master and (Y/N). “Are you trying to become like Asura, the one who faced Kali?”

“I’m not a demon who’s going to get killed,” scoffed (Y/N). “I intend to rewrite the legend. Join me?”

“With pleasure,” said Sebastian.

“Stop messing around and stop that Kali,” ordered Ciel, eyebrow twitching at the demons’ dramatics.

“Yes, my Lord,” said Sebastian, and he and (Y/N) jumped into action.

Mina was ferocious as she attacked, moving so quickly she truly did seem to have four arms. (Y/N) and Sebastian matched her, though. She was still but a mortal. The rest of the infected continued attacking people until Agni, reunited with his prince, began defending the people scrambling to escape.

“I shall support you!” said Agni.

“You have become even more powerful. Has something happened?” said (Y/N).

“Yes. Right now, I’m invincible!” said Agni.

“Excellent,” said (Y/N).

“Yes, yes, let’s finish this, now,” said Sebastian, interrupting Agni and (Y/N) speaking.

The three attacked the approaching infected before they reached the Queen. Ciel, the Queen’s butler, and the Queen watched.

“You have most splendid servants, do you not?” remarked the butler. “It seems there will be no need for me to make an appearance. But do you not think this peculiar? If that was the power of the spice, then why is it that just one group of people was affected? If that were the case, there should be many more going out of control.” His gaze darkened. “After all, there is no one in this world who is truly at peace with themselves.”

Ciel made the connection with the curries at the precise moment Mina broke past Agni, Sebastian, and (Y/N) as they fought off the other humans. She ran at the dais angrily, shouting at the world.

“Wait, Mina!” Soma threw himself in front.

“The idiot!” cried Ciel.

Agni’s eyes widened.

Mina slipped on a piece of blue lobster and crashed to the floor. Very anticlimactic.

“Forgive me, Mina!” said Soma, pressing a foot down on her back.

“Sebastian, (Y/N)! The curry buns!” shouted Ciel. “Make them eat the curry buns!”

“Understood,” said Sebastian, picking up a platter. “A kind curry created by a demon.” He tossed several curry buns into infected people’s mouths, and (Y/N) joined him with precision.

How absolutely like him. A completely ironic joke, though Ciel. However, if he has decided to imbue it with kindness, then its power is perfect.

As the infected people were forced to eat the curry bun and taste the sweetness and “kindness” of it, the malevolent aura faded, and they were left looking confused at their own actions.

“M-Mina?” asked Soma.

“Soma? You really are the worst…” she said in quiet disappointment before falling unconscious.

“Her Majesty declares, ‘The kind curry bun is able to subdue evil spice and appease the soul of those in the grip of evil. The Royal Warrant’s destination is clear,’ ” said the Queen’s butler.

“What will happen to them?” said Ciel, watching as the infected, exhausted from the ordeal, were lifted away by doctors and constables called in front outside.

“They will not be mistreated,” said the butler. “Master Ciel, you did a sterling job today. Also, for obtaining the Royal Warrant, I, Ash, congratulate you sincerely. I have a word of appreciation from Her Majesty. Her Majesty declares, ‘I have put you through a great deal of trouble. I am ever watching over your work. I am the light and Master Ciel is the shadow.’ ” Ash bowed and delivered a personal message. “Our positions may be different, but I believe our wishes are the same. Please continue to use your strength for Her Majesty’s benefit in the future.”

“I shall,” said Ciel.

Ash bowed his head once more before turning to Sebastian, (Y/N), and Agni. “And to my fellow servants, thank you for your excellent work in protecting the Queen.”

Agni bowed respectfully, and Sebastian put his hand to his heart. “Of course. What butler would I be if I didn’t?” Sebastian said it with a smile, but (Y/N) could see the same wariness in his eyes. Whatever it was about Ash that set them off was kept carefully guarded. Even Angela had given off more of an air of inhumanity that Ash.

“We are here in service, after all,” said (Y/N), putting a curated smile on their face.

“Quite,” said Ash. He bowed, took (Y/N)’s hand, and kissed the back.

(Y/N)’s nose twitched in annoyance at the touch, and Sebastian’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, then, I shall take my leave,” said Ash, turning and walking back to the Queen’s side.

“Thank you, Ciel,” said Soma. “If I hadn’t met you, I would have remained an ignorant, selfish child. From now on, I’ll learn lots more and travel all over England…No, the world, and become a fine enough man not to lose face to anyone!”

“Master Sebastian, (Y/N),” said Agni. He bowed to them. “The Prince and I have gained so much from you all. I could not begin to thank you.”

“Please, raise your head,” said Sebastian. “I merely fought on my own behalf.”

“We have done nothing to be thanked for,” said (Y/N). “Just as the gods you believe in, Kali and Shiva, could take the pain they held and see their mistakes, so it is with both of you.”

Sebastian’s smile turned cruel as he saw Agni’s eyes shining as he looked at (Y/N), and Sebastian took his attention away from them. “Besides, I doubt a bonding experience without pain would be a fruitful one.”

“To be taught my country’s teachings by an Englishman…I am truly humbled,” said Agni.

“Nationality does not matter. Wherever and whenever you are, there are always similarities,” said Sebastian.

“You are all humans, after all,” said (Y/N).

“That’s true. Just as the sunset by the bank of the Ganges and the sunset of England are both beautiful,” said Agni, staring at (Y/N) and Sebastian as the setting sun shone behind them.

Soma’s eyes turned teary at the beautiful scene and words, and he hugged Ciel tightly. “Oh!”

“Let me go!” complained Ciel.

“I am so glad we came to England,” remarked Agni, smiling at the scene. He turned to Sebastian and (Y/N). “The prince and I have both made friends.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened slightly, and (Y/N) blinked.

“Friends, you say?” murmured Sebastian. “That is the first time someone has called me that.

“Friends…” (Y/N)’s eyes went to Sebastian.

“I hadn’t expected a curry festival to be quite so exciting,” said (Y/N) with a chuckle as they finished cleaning the curry pot beside Sebastian. “I’ll say it again, your contract is a magnet for trouble.”

“When it is a soul such as his, trouble is bound to appear,” said Sebastian. “But that is what will make the end all the more satisfying.”

“I suppose so,” said (Y/N).

Sebastian glanced at them. “I forget that you prefer your fun to be with those your contract competes with.”

“ ‘Compete’ is a tame word,” said (Y/N). “But yes. I find my satisfaction in tearing my contract’s enemies apart. And then, once my contract feels the power and has satisfied their own cravings, they satisfy mine.”

“I wonder, would the humans consider my way or yours more humane?” remarked Sebastian coyly.

“There are reasons different demons are drawn to different summoners,” said (Y/N). They smirked. “But I’ll humor you. Let me ask a question instead.”

“Oh?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. He had no doubt this would be interesting. (Y/N) never failed to be.

(Y/N) grinned and picked up a curry bun left over from the buffet. “Which one of us created a curry bun imbued with kindness?” They took a bite as they smirked at Sebastian.

His eyes flashed in enjoyment. He had been correct; once again, they did not fail to match wits and come equal to him. Sebastian leaned forward. “I did. But who enjoyed the sweetness?”

(Y/N)’s smirk turned to a smile, and Sebastian faltered for a moment. “If I were to follow a human’s logic, I’d say a ‘friend’ did.”

Sebastian was silent for a moment as he stared at them. There was a challenging look in their eye, although it disguised something else he couldn’t identify, something he had never seen in (Y/N)’s gaze. When he spoke, his words came slowly as if he was considering them carefully.

“A friend…Yes, I suppose that would be true,” said Sebastian. A slight smile quirked the edges of his lips, genuine. “Friends. Yes.”

(Y/N) leaned their head on a hand and smiled at him. Their heart fluttered. “Friends.”

Two demons, friends. Two demons, whose “non-existent” hearts sought just a bit more.

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@idkhowtoplayhoyoversegames

@iamsexytrash

#one hell of a love #x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #demon!reader #demon reader #sebastian x demon!reader #sebastian x reader #black butler sebastian #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #black butler x reader #black butler fic #black butler ciel #black butler #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji x reader

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crazedauthor · 2 years

Text

Flours for Your Heart

Hehehe... Runaway AU, let’s go! For you @paper-lilypie

~~~~~~

Flour is your mortal enemy.

Waking up at dawn every day sucks. Kneading dough until your hands are numb is an irritating norm. Sitting by a crackling oven, attempting not to burn the loaves or your skin, shouldn’t be as hard as it is.

But the whole fiasco begins at the beginning: with the water, yeast, salt, oil, and God damned flour. The flour that refuses to budge off the floor when you pick it up. The flour that puffs up into your face and sends you into a coughing fit as it coats your throat and nose. The accursed flour… which is now decorating both your body and the bodies of your baker husbands.

Husbands.

Yeah, that word rolls off the tongue as easily as you roll out of bed each morning. In other words, half-dragged out by necessity and the constant thought that things could be worse. You have seen what “worse” looks like. You’re not going back.

Unfortunately, the morning struggle of untangling yourself from the warm sheets feels like eons ago as you stare into the eyes of your… husbands. Your now very pale husbands.

Sun, to his credit, maintains composure like a world-class actor—his hands politely clasped in front of himself with a wide smile. As if the stark white upon his face, concealing his normal, glowing yellow hue, is all but your imagination, fueled by grogginess and a fitful sleep of anxious nightmares. Only the twitching of his rays, unintentionally shaking off several flecks of flour, give away any sense of annoyance.

Moon, on the other hand, wears his irritation like it’s his Sunday best: unashamed and so ready to show it to everyone in the vicinity. His current smile would be dazzling… if not for the fact it’s a thinly-veiled glower, complete with a slight show of sharp teeth at the edge of his lips. The rogue ingredient on his face gives him the appearance of a full moon, instead of his normal crescent shape. He almost looks cute like that. How you wish this was a situation in which you could joke about it.

But it’s not. Flour is a regular occurrence on their clothes, but never in this volume. Two days as their new assistant—their spouse, though the word sits funny in your mouth—and you’ve made nothing but trouble for them.

Can’t knead the dough without destroying its fluffiness. Can’t watch the oven without charring the edges of the bread. Can’t mix the ingredients without triggering a massive flour explosion upon the entire bakery.

Annoying. Useless. Unwanted.

Moon takes a step towards you and you tense. Closing your eyes, you wait for the yelling—for the well-deserved verbal beatdown and demand to leave the room and their lives. But it never comes.

Instead, you feel a hand plop gently onto your hair, ruffling it and causing a shower of powder to fall to the floor.

“Go get the cleaning supplies. I’ll fetch us a new bag of flour.”

Moon’s voice is gruff, but there’s no hint of malice. Within that slight twinge at the end of his words, you think you hear a hint of amusement?

You glance up at him with wide eyes, still waiting for the trap to snap shut and an argument to break out. However, he just looks back at you with a small huff and a cocky grin.

“Be quick about it. Hard to work with flour in your face.” Moon starts to walk away, but the stops like something just occurred to him. With a wider smirk, he turns back to you, eyes gleaming. “And no, Sun will not be helping you. He needs to make sure we don’t get too far behind thanks to this mess.”

With that snarky comment, he exits the kitchen, leaving you with flushed cheeks and a chuckling Sun.

As you try to recover from the unexpected, but not unwelcome tease (at least, not unwelcome compared to the alternative of his annoyance), Sun moves closer to you with gleaming eyes. “You got a little something… right here.”

He drags his thumb across your nose. However, your eyes quickly catch sight of a familiar yellow color breaking through the flour, and you realize too late that he wasn’t wiping off the ingredient: he was painting on the last bit of face not covered in white. If there was a mirror in this room, you have no doubt you’d look like a ghost.

“There,” Sun hums in satisfaction. “Now the coat is even.”

Before you can say anything back, fire off a sassy comment or even prod him about the fact he just made you messier, he twirls in place with his usual flair. Another cloud of flour flies off him and hangs in the air.

“Get going, sunshine! You don’t want Moon to catch you slacking off, now do you?”

You watch him return to collecting ingredients with your mouth open, but unable to produce any words. Eventually, you take the loss and stride over to the closet for the cleaning supplies. As you take in your powdery white arms and messy hair, a small smile breaks out across your face.

Maybe… Maybe you could survive this life after all.

#sun #moon #fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sun x reader #fnaf sun x reader #sundrop x reader #moon x reader #fnaf moon x reader #moondrop x reader #runaway au

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eldritch-thrumming · 1 year

Text

Hawkins, Indiana

January 1987

Max has been home from rehab for about a week and all she’s really been able to do is amble around her trailer watching movies and listening to music. The second semester of the school year doesn’t start for another week, so she’s got a lot of time on her hands.

Sometimes, when she’s really bored, she’ll make her way, slowly, over to Eddie’s trailer and bother him for an afternoon. Sometimes Wayne is there and awake to bother too and it makes her remember what it felt like to have a family that cared about her. It doesn’t make her bitter, just hopeful, because she thinks now she’s found people that could be that for her.

She’s knocking on the trailer now and she can hear Eddie scrambling for the door on the other side. He swings it open, his guitar in his other hand. “Max!” He exclaims, a bright smile lighting up his entire face when he sees her. “Come in. I was just learning a special song.”

Max makes her way up the steps into the trailer and follows Eddie into the living room. Eddie drops into the sole armchair in the room, leaving Max to the plaid couch. It was old and the fabric was a little scratchy, but it was soft in all the right places. She sits with her back against one of the arms, lifting her legs to stretch in front of her. Her ankles were a bit swollen today because of the weather and they were irritated. She was supposed to keep them elevated when that happened.

“So what’s the song?” She asks. Eddie smiles and starts playing. He’d already played her “Running Up That Hill” in the hospital so many times, she was almost getting sick of it, but this time it’s “Hounds of Love.” Max can’t help but smile as she listens.

When the song is over, Eddie says, “I’m making my way through the entire album.” He doesn’t say ‘just in case’ but Max hears it anyway and something inside her swells as she looks at him. It’s been hard for them all to believe that the Upside Down is gone and Vecna with it.

There’s another knock on the trailer door then and Eddie smiles at her, placing his guitar in her hands before he goes to answer the door. She strums the strings absently as she waits for him to come back.

Eddie is trying to keep his voice soft, maybe so she doesn’t hear, but she hears anyway. “Hey Stevie, Max is here.”

She can’t hear Steve’s response but then Eddie’s stepping back, making space for Steve to come through the door. Then Steve is there, smiling, grocery bags in hand.

“Hey, Max,” Steve calls over to her. “Any dinner plans tonight?"

Max just shakes her head, smiling back.

“Good, because I’m cooking the best pasta you’ll ever taste in your life.” Steve’s grinning now as he pulls off his jacket and starts unpacking his bags, arranging his ingredients on the counter in the kitchen. Max’s eyes dart over to Eddie and she can see the way he’s looking at Steve. It’s the same way that she’s seen Will look at Mike or the way that Lucas looks at her when he thinks she’s not paying attention. Eddie’s looking at Steve like he's hung the moon.

“Oh,” she says, almost involuntarily. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You could never,” Steve says, pulling several pots from a cabinet near the stove. Max doesn’t miss the way he seems to know his way around the trailer. “Right, Munson?”

Eddie seems to shake himself from a daze. “Absolutely, Mayfield. You gotta stay. Steve’s, like, a professional chef. Wayne’ll be here too.” Eddie leaves Steve to start preparing their meal in the tiny kitchen and comes back over. “Wanna learn some chords while we wait?”

Max nods and Eddie starts to show her where she’s supposed to put her fingers, how to strum using his guitar pick. At some point, Wayne emerges from his room down the hall, making his way to the refrigerator and grabbing a beer. He makes conversation with Steve in the kitchen while Max and Eddie keep playing. Before long, Steve’s calling them over to the kitchen table while Wayne arranges the place settings.

Max can’t remember the last time she’s had a dinner like this. Her mom wasn’t really the cooking type anymore and she was at work more often than not these days anyway. Max smiles at the way Wayne and Eddie tease each other, how it’s so clear they love each other. She laughs at Wayne’s stories of the guys at the plant, at the dumb shit they do when they’ve been drinking on the nights they have off. She laughs at the way Eddie makes fun of Steve for being popular and playing basketball and how Steve makes fun of Eddie for being a nerd.

She can’t remember the last time she’s felt like this, like there’s something fuzzy flowing through her veins. She looks around the table at the three men and she can’t help but think that this is what a family is supposed to feel like.

The pasta’s pretty good too.

you can read the full (complete) fic “sorry about the blood in your mouth (i wish it was mine)” on ao3 here

#i just posted a different part of this fic but then changed my mind #here’s my Wayne Eddie Steve max tiny little family headcanon #i love them your honor #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #steve harrington #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #max mayfield #multiple povs and nonlinear narrative tho #long post #idk how to add a read more on mobile I’m so sorry #my writing

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marshmallowprotection · 3 months

Note

Kait, do you think GE Saeran would have to deal with drug withdrawal effect during the period between his Good Ending and After Ending? It's highly likely, right? I want nothing more than to be by his side and comfort him during those times :(

Unfortunately, yes.

It's not sunshine and roses when it comes to somebody weaning themself off of the kind of drug he was taking. It was a combination cocktail of all sorts of drugs. The solution that makes up the Elixir is never quite the same each time, and the concentrations can be very different.

As far as I know, everything that's in there is bad for you. The Secret Ending tells us a few of the known ingredients but even the doctors are stumped on EVERYTHING that's in it. I've talked about about how he has to be going through a lot of painful symptoms but the game glosses over it because nobody really likes to talk about that kind of stuff. It's not pretty.

Not only that, but it's hard for people to open up about these particular issues since this is stigmatized no matter if somebody is in recovery or not. A good chunk of his time in the hospital has more to do with his physical symptoms than anything else. That is the case for many victims of Mint Eye. The mental duress and exhaustion are going to take a long time to heal, but as for the physical symptoms, some of those issues can be remedied in the meantime.

It's a mess of migraines, exhaustion, irritability, dehydration, and many other physical and mental symptoms that can differ person to person and substance to substance.

Saeran is going to be dealing with this for a while. Even after he's out of the hospital, I can't see him being comfortable taking any kind of medication outside of something for his migraines. Why in the world would he ever be trustful of medication ever again after he spent so much of his life being forced to take the elixir? Ray called it medicine at one point, you know?

He may not have been taking it for as long as SE Saeran did, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was suffering with the elixir for nearly an entire year.

He mentions once in the after-ending that he has medication he needs to take, and I imagine that offhand comment has a little bit to do with his recovery process. He takes medicine for migraines, that we know, but given that it’s been nearly a month and some change since we escaped Mint Eye, he’s had time to go to a doctor. Hell, I’m certain Jumin had not only helped him get a doctor, but get his proper government documentation as well.

So, he is getting the help he needs for his health, but there's only so much they can do for his sake. They can make sure he has the medication he needs to lessen the severity of what he's going through, but it's not going to stop it 100%. He's going to have good days and bad days going forward, and sometimes there will be an itch he just can't scratch.

If you can do anything for him, you should make sure you have your hand ready for him to hold whatever he feels that ungodly feeling that tells him he needs some kind of elixir to make the pain go away. Even though he said he knew he didn't need to take it anymore, it doesn't change his body's response to no longer taking it. He went off of it cold turkey, and I can't imagine it made him feel good in the days following the aftermath.

Worst case scenario, he keeps up a brave face in front of everybody as you all work together to find his brother, but the minute the two of you are alone, that's when he breaks down and shows you just how bad he feels. It might take a few days for the pain to kick in, but it'll get there, and you'll have to help him talk about… the elixir and what Mint Eye did to him. He may not talk about Rika or V, but he’ll have to tell them why he physically can’t work.

#princessjung #mod kait #mystic messenger #ask #anon #mysme #saeran choi #mm #mysticmessenger #choi saeran #character analysis #ge saeran #saeray #saeran

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ghostherlig · 23 days

Text

boy has it been a bit since ive done one of these but i started this on spring break and got back around to it now that im stuck at Not My House- anyway, enjoy!! <3

this time, johnshi^2 edition 😌 (under the cut bc this, like all of these, got real long 😭)

john is a Stress Baker and will bake into the night if he's stressed out enough (usually cookies to store in the freezer for the rest of the month)

johnny is a Stress Cooker and will cook the most complicated dishes to make himself feel better (ignore his problems)

kenshi mostly cooks for himself and is used to making single-servings of things, so when he makes food it's usually only for him

taka only knows a few recipes, but he has Perfected them. Perfected. They Are Perfect. He makes Takoyaki, Five Flavor Soup, and a few other things that the other three fucking love-

john has a black light tattoo of a smiley face on his ass cheek

johnny has no tattoos

we've all seen kenshi's tattoos, pretty pretty man <3

taka has a few smaller tattoos in fewer seen places, the most common sighted being a small raven on his ankle

johnny owns an industrial freezer and fills it with all sorts of food storage and left-over ingredients that were made in large batches

taka put a false bottom in the industrial freezer to hide his special ingredients for his dishes

johnny teaches physics during summer or winter courses between filming for his movies

kenshi is a big family man and has two older sisters and a younger brother- he has mommy issues 😔

john is also a big family guy, he loves his daughter and his dead wife despite how shitty his childhood was

johnny and taka... arent as big on family-

taka has a bridge piercing that he has a plug in now that he's older, but he still puts in jewelry for at home dates where he doesn't have to wear his sunglasses

john has his ears pierced, but he never wears his jewelry- his collection is a lot of studs, but he has a pair of hoops that he was given by his mom and a pair of jade earrings that taka gave him

johnny had a belly button piercing, but doesnt wear his jewelry anymore 😔

kenshi had several ear piercings but only really wears studs or hoops in his main two lobe piercings

taka wants to get his eyebrow pierced, but just hasnt gone and done it yet

taka uses a hairpin to keep his hair up and despises hair ties despite the fact that johnny always carries them around for him- he has and will continue to grab the pen out of johnny's hands to put his hair up rather than take the offered hair tie.

kenshi usually prefers to navigate without sento at home and in public, and he helps taka get used to using a sight cane and more accessibility devices since taka usually navigates with sento since to him it's easier

when they're all busy working, johnny sets up Very Official Google Meet Meetings and uses his work calendar to hide the fact that he's calling his partners during business hours- the other three do the same thing so they can get at least fifteen minutes together outside of lunch breaks to talk

kenshi NAPS. like, daily naps. he needs his at least fifteen minute lreferably an hour nap per day or else he's a lot more irritable- taka, john, and johnny always look for him around noon, forgetting he's Napping and they usually catch him asleep in his room, on the couch, and often in his office on base-

john will sometimes take midday naps too, usually on weekends, and kenshi will join him on his giant lazy boy recliner and burrow into his side to take a nap

john and johnny are Human Heaters, they never get cold, whereas kenshi and taka Cannot Thermoregulate To Save Their Lives and are constantly cold and usually wear a lot of layers

kenshi and taka also HATE being too hot, both would rather be cold and they despise cali summers since it can get up to the hundreds on really bad days

they all work until they collapse. it's awful. usually johnny and john are better about it, they put work down after 6pm and Dont Look At Work Things until 5am the next day- but taka and kenshi?? they're used to always being on call for things, mundane or not, and that means john and johnny are CONSTANTLY slapping the phones out of their hands when they see an official OIA number

johnny gets bad abt working late when shit gets busy on and off set, esp if he's working on a script or there are all kinds of clerical and scheduling issues and errors- he's had to be dragged away from his desk and/or laptop bc he just wouldnt stop fixing little things- he's pulled all nighters on accident bc he was so focused 😭

john is the most outwardly affectionate- constantly saying it, constant touches, hugs, kisses, little love taps, ass slaps- anyway he can convey his love he's doing it- he's esp bad abt slapping johnny and kenshi's asses since he did it to taka once and taka Stands On Business (slapped his ass so hard the next day john was waddling around the house for thirty minutes)

surprisingly, kenshi is the second most affectionate, though it's more in words and quality time and little gifts- almost daily he leaves all three of them a little note or gift or will cut them fruit- and if he cant he's leaving them or greeting them with a kiss on the cheek or a little peck- he also affirms his love very... aggressively?? john, johnny, and taka all get in moods that scream "would you love me if i was a worm?" and kenshi will always sit there and go "of course i would. i would build you a terrarium and start composting so you would have the best dirt in the world."

johnny is the third most affectionate- it takes him a bit to get comfy just giving hugs or draping himself over someones back, but he does say how much he loves them all the time- constant 'i love you's while he's doing other things, when he comes home, when he leaves, etc. any time he thinks it, he says it

taka is the least affectionate and least affirming, but it's all in his actions. taka will berate john and johnny and kenshi for working themselves sick while he digs in the industrial freezer to make them five flavor soup and some tea- he'll call them stupid or dumb affectionately while pressing a kiss to their temple- he gets nuzzle-y and sometimes just needs to tuck himself over them or hold them to feel normal again- he says 'i love you' the least, but he acts out his 'i love you's the most. he also hilariously sometimes replies to 'i love you' with 'okay.' or '..thanks.' bc he struggles to say it outright, but most oftentimes he hums and presses a little kiss wherever he can- usually the cheek, temple, or if they're already leaving he'll grab their hand and press a kiss to their knuckles

#ghost's ouija board #johnshi^2 #ghosts hcs #i love these guys fr #in case yall couldnt tell 💀 /lh

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clatoera · 4 months

Note

🧸 🫂 💄 🌟 for Clove!!

BESTIE I WAS SO EXCITED TO DO THIS I HAD TO WAIT BECUAS EI WANTED TO MAKE SURE I GOT IT RIGHT!!

These are always in ARWBFB AU bc...I said so :)

Thank you thank you i'm so excited to do this.

🧸 A headcanon about their childhood

-As we know..Clove was raised by a grandmother who resented her and a father who pretended she didn't exist because that was more convenient for him. The resentment of her grandmother, and her often absent guardianship, is why Clove learned to cook at an early age. She was four and a half when she figured out how to crawl onto the counter top and reach the bread and peanut butter, and she subsisted on peanut butter sandwiches for weeks at a time. Her grandmother never questioned when her seven year old grandchild knew how to make fried eggs before school, or when she was ten and would walk by with pan grilled chicken on a plate. She did, however, get questions when eight year old Clove discovered grocery shopping. She came home from school with a backpack full of ingredients for spaghetti, and it isn't until she is walking past later that her grandmother realized she didn't even have noodles int he house that morning. She's self sufficient.

🫂 A friendship headcanon

Cato was Clove's best friend their entire lives. That's well known by anyone who spent more than half a minute with them. However, once Cato's title switches from best friend to something much much more, it is Glimmer who ultimately does claim the role of her best friend. And While Clove would like to pretend she isn't... she is absolutely her best friend. Clove's love language somehow becomes cooking after the war, when all her friends (her family) chose to pile into her home and ask for meals. She pretends it irritates her, but really, it lowkey makes her feel good. In fact, when Glimmer calls her in the middle of the night (or Marvel calls for Glimmer, because she doesn't want to bother Clove) when she's pregnant or has new babies Clove bitches and complains to Cato but she goes every. single. time. (Cato goes too, even on the middle of the night trek to D1, he isn't passing up his chance to hold babies, like it's not fair she gets to go do it just because she's useful). Her love for those friends runs so deep, her loyalty goes so deep, that when the children of her friends are old enough to eat real people food she is over there weekly making them new things to try. She isn't even asked to do so.

💄 An appearance headcanon

Clove was absolutely teased for her size. Compared to D2 girls she is training and competing against she is significantly smaller than most of them in all ways. She is severely underestimated and as a result had to develop that fierceness we all know in love. Not only is she underestimated by girls, she is ignored by boys who do not look at her too long in the way they do the other girls their own age (which, she doesn't mind, she's not interested anyway). It is not until she is an adult that she finds out that the reason those boys never looked at her too long is not because of her size or the way she looks, but because Cato had threatened to break the neck of anyone who did (jealous jealous jealous possessive boy).

🌟 A headcanon about their desires/wishes

Clove's biggest wish/desire/goal her entire life was to go into the games and win. However, once she achieves this, she realizes that she has never, not once, thought about what comes after. It is somewhat of an identity crisis, even more so years after the war when the games were no more. Clove does not know who she is other than a trainee for the games. It is such a dilemma after the games ends. She never even thought about getting a pet. Once she achieved her goal..she was a little lost.

Thank you thank you THANK you my friend this was SO FUN! @bodyelectric77. I love my girly pop.

#arwbfb tag #clato #cato and clove #clove tag #arwbfb au #clove kentwell

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arent-i-the-fairest · 2 years

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𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮?

the reader suffers the effects of a memory loss potion from an alchemy accident and can’t remember who these once familiar faces are.

⚠️ : angst with no comfort

author’s note : realistically, news of your amnesia would spread like wildfire throughout the whole school and you would get cured pretty much instantly (crowley would rather die than let this get in the hands of the press)— but no need to get all theoretical (´・ω・｀)

a class full of idiots + dangerous chemicals + said class being left unsupervised = an alchemy incident bound to happen.

“dude, no! that ingredient doesn’t go with the recipe, what it’ll do is—”

— too late. a thick, strong scented puff of smoke rose from the cauldron. everyone scrambled to cover their faces and sprinted to the opposite side of the room. all except for you, who was too late. you had inhaled too much of it and were feeling strange in a matter of seconds.

your head hurts so bad.

everyone’s stares are burning holes in you, curious what the failed potion had done to you.

raising from your hunched position, you stared right back at them, terrified. you thought out loud, “who are all of you?”

. . .

“… so, who’s gonna tell a teacher what happened to the prefect?” someone asked. dead silence rang across the classroom.

ace trappola

“hey, prefect!!” someone shouted at you. you stepped away from him as he got closer. confused by your reaction, he raises a brow. “what’s goin’ on with you?”

“.. sorry, i think you’ve got the wrong person.”

“huh? of course i got the right person!” he chased you as you walked off. “this is one of your weirdest pranks yet! and distasteful. seriously prefect, amnesia is nothing to laugh about. i’m disappointed, young [man/woman].” he teases, poking your arm.

you stop walking, and he stumbles as he bumps right into your back.

“it isn’t a prank! please leave me alone. you’re really discomforting me,” you hiss, facing him with an irritated expression. you walk off and he’s left all by himself in the hall, the realization that this is serious crushing him.

ace, being ace, doesn’t just sit by. comes up to you everyday and does everything he can think of to get you to remember him. bringing up some of your old adventures, showing you the same dumb magic tricks he always did for you, getting into mischief— all of these not helping at all. it frustrates him, just pushing him more to trying even harder to make you remember him. but with each fruitless attempt, he’s feeling more hopeless. and the feeling is eating at him.

he starts getting restless over this, and it’s easy to notice. those clouded eyes and the bags under them, the way he’s lost his peppy personality, and how he’s just trudging through the day with a smile and more attempts to get you to remember him.

when he’s finally at his wits end, no idea of how to fix your memory loss (or if there even is anything he can do to fix it), he just breaks down in front of you.

“… c’mon, prefect. you and me were so close,” he sniffed. “somewhere in that head of yours has to be some memory of me..”

all you could do was shake your head no and apologize.

“then.. i’ll just have to keep trying! i am not going to lose you.”

deuce spade

he found you stumbling around in the halls. when you met his curious eyes with your own, pure confusion spread across your face. now he’s puzzled too. was there something going on?

“prefect, why are you heading towards the mirror? we’re not allowed to leave yet, the school day isn’t done!” he scolds as he jogs towards you.

“how do you know my name?” you flinch. he skids to a halt at the question, eyes going wide. “i don’t believe i’ve met you before. oh, and by the way, would you mind pointing me to the exit of this building? i don’t know how i ended up here— damn it, i don’t even know where this is!”

“what are you talking about? of course you know this building— and of course you know me! deuce! we’ve known each other for several months now! come here, are you running a fever or something? i told you not to overdo it with the work..” he sighed, extending his hand forward only for you shift back.

“deuce, was it? i assure you, i don’t have a fever. now, i’ll be off.”

“huh? hey, don’t go—!”

deuce handles the situation in a much less constantly-in-your-face, aggressive way than ace. he’s mindful of his behavior around you since he knows you see him as a stranger and it would be strange for you if he treated you as though you were best friends— which you are! but you don’t remember that.

he still hangs around you everyday, trying to bring up and show you things that might make you remember how things once were, asking if any memories have come back to you. he grows more disappointed yet more determined when you tell him nothing’s come to you yet.

no matter how tedious it gets, he always seems to keep going. it’s admirable, but absolutely heart wrenching to watch. all this effort, yet he’s gone nowhere.. and to tell the cold, hard truth, probably won’t end up anywhere.

“you really still don’t remember anything?” he asks sadly, an almost defeated expression on his face. almost.

you shake your head. suddenly, a fierce grin spread over the boy’s face.

“it’s ok, i’ll keep trying! for our friendship! i swear, you’ll get all your memories back, prefect!” he promised, hand over his heart. “i’ll keep trying until the end of time.”

his positive attitude is contagious. you smile and nod, telling him you’re counting on him— but deep down, you’re doubtful. after all, memory loss is not something so simply cured like the poor soul seems to think.

do you have the heart to tell him it’s no use?

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #ace x reader #deuce x reader #gn reader

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qierxing · 2 years

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Venenum

A/N: Yeah this is inspired by the Castlevania anime LOL It may only be September but it’s Halloween vibes time babeyyyy

Yan! Vil Schoenheit x Reader

CW/TW: Domestic Abuse & Violence, Graphic descriptions of gore/blood, nudity, cursing

—

When someone threw open the heavy stone doors of his castle, Vil was fully ready to strike them down for interrupting his skincare routine session.

Well, it wouldn’t be him, but he would’ve sent Rook or Epel to have the idiotic soul escorted out, permanently. But he isn’t sure whether he should be offended or amazed at the fact you march right up to him without blinking an eye at his stunning looks. No, you had the gall to grab his shoulders and look him straight on and ask–no, demand—his help.

He’s had many mortals come to his looming castle to grovel for things. His alchemy and magic skills are rivaled to none in Shaftlands. But throughout all his millennia years of living, no human had the audacity like you.

“You’re the King of Poisons, right? Can you make me a potion?”

And yet, he didn’t leave you drained of blood, your body ran through with a pike on his walls as an example to any intruders. He could’ve. He should’ve, for all the insolence you’ve shown him. But something in him decided to haughtily scoff and shake off your hands and walk back to his vanity, with you trailing after him screeching like an overgrown parrot. It’s only when he whirls around and squeezes your cheeks with an admonishing scowl that you finally shut up.

“Look here, spudling, we are getting one thing straight.” You make an indignant muffled noise in response, but he ignores you. “I will help you, but you are the one making this potion.”

So began the long days of teaching you. There were several nights that made him think about going back on his word. Sometimes, when you end up squandering the few roots left in his supply or shattering his precious glass beakers, he thinks about just giving into his common sense and devouring you as his next meal. But he’s Vil Schoenheit, and there was never anyone he couldn’t transform into the perfect ideal version of themselves. So he keeps helping you pore over large grimoires with inky diagrams and descriptions and stir in dubious ingredients in the large cauldron.

He doesn’t know when and how, but something changed the way he looked at you. You were sometimes slow, but you were not stupid, and your intuition was brighter than any mortal he’s encountered before. And though even Epel had scowled at the way he overbearingly nagged him, you take his criticisms in stride and proactively ask him for his feedback. Usually he hates earnest personalities, but for you, it’s strangely fitting. It came to the point where even Rook would tease him for treating you so sweetly for a ‘lowly mortal’. (Rook was then ordered to hunt several hundred birds in punishment.)

He didn’t think to ask why exactly you needed this specific potion until one dark night you stumbled in with bruises and glassy eyes. For once, he can’t find it in himself to scold you for your unkempt appearance, only taking your shaking body to his room and telling Epel to draw a warm bath. You don’t even protest or voice anything as he undresses you, slitted pupils only dilating at the splotches of bruises and whip marks littering your whole body. But what really, really, truly turns his vision red, is the old scars and faded bruises that are side by side with the new ones.

He gently lowers your battered body into the warm water, filled with mugwort and other herbs to help with the pain, and there’s only silence in the large echoey bath chambers. His mind is racing as he softly wipes away the dirt irritating the wounds: who would do such a thing? Another question comes to replace it before he can help it.

Which bastard does he need to send to hell?

When you are finally wrapped in one of his softest bathrobe and given a hot cup of chamomile tea, Vil finally decides to break the silence.

“Spudling–”

“Please, Vil…” He’s instantly hushed by your cracked voice. “Just…don’t ask. I…I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

He purses his lips, his dead heart finally churning with conflict and anxiety. No potion work is done that night, but you don’t know that after Vil tucks you into bed, he walks out and summons Rook to his side immediately.

“You know what to do.”

“At your command, my King.”

Vil has Epel preside over you while he goes and decides to actually take a look at the potion you were making.

Lead, arsenic, belladonna. These came together to make the most poisonous brew, but something confused him. Why is it that the potion was diluted? And you made barely enough for three doses? This amount wasn’t even enough to kill a fully grown mortal man.

When Rook appears by his side at the cauldron with his usual smirk and bow, Vil only snaps at him to report right away. His nerves have become so frayed in worry that even his right hand man only raises an eyebrow before continuing.

How did he not see it? He wonders to himself, as he gazes at the crude iron ring donning your ring finger. The jewelry, if he can even call the embarrassingly sham that is barely the shape of a ring, lumpen metal clobbered together hastily. The metal was already beginning to rust, leaving chafe marks upon your raw skin.

It tortures him to do so, but he lets you leave in the morning, murmuring your apologies and thanks as you draw in the rough straw cloak around you. As mighty as he is, he is still weak under the harsh sunlight, and he would rather unleash his plan when he is at full strength under the cold moonlight. You don’t see how his eyes darken as your figure walks toward the town center.

You had the potions you needed to make your escape. No more will you suffer under your spouse’s hot anger and fists. After this, you’ll be able to free yourselves from the shackles of marriage that you once willingly put on.

Everything shatters however, once your spouse finds the very bottles for your plans.

“You think you can just leave me?!” You scream in agony as a heavy boot stomps on your leg, and you feel your femur shatter under the weight. “After everything we went through, you think you can just go off and whore yourself out?!”

“Damn you! I’ll kill you! That’ll teach you not to mess with me!!” Sharp glass bits embed in your clenched palm and you close your eyes and brace yourself to the inevitable.

“That’s quite enough.”

The familiar voice has you lurching your head up despite the resistance on your neck. “Vil!...” You can only choke out in relief as the tall vampire kicks back your partner with a disgusted scrunch of his face.

“Vil, thank you so–” Vil’s eyes freeze you in place as something cold runs down your spine. You’re not the target of his wrath, but even then, it’s scary to see his eyes blank and devoid of any emotion.

You can only watch in terror as he slams your spouse against the wall without breaking a sweat, choking him in place.

“Your blood isn’t even worth drinking, dirty pig.” What was he…oh Great Seven no—!!!

The choked scream gets caught in your throat as your spouse’s head quite literally explodes, flinging bits and pieces of his flesh everywhere. You can only flail back as Vil tosses his mutilated body aside, more fresh blood spurting from his cracked open neck and staining the wooden floorboards below.

Vil only clicks his tongue in annoyance. “I can’t believe my robes are now dirtied from that scum.” When he turns to you, his displeased look only deepens at the way you stare emptily at your spouse–nay, your ex-spouse’s– corpse.

He picks your still form up easily, and maybe it’s the scent and the feeling of blood on your skin, but you finally thrash to life, begging him to put you down, to let you go, and he only scoffs at your impertinent attitude making a comeback.

“Dear, I do hate getting dirty. So be a good darling and stay still.” HIs words alone, even if not imbued with curse power, is enough to get you to flinch back and obey. He can only sigh at how far he went just for you. How much has he sullied himself to make sure your beauty could never be lost to time?

He makes quick work of taking your ring and crushing it completely to ash in his hands. But you start to stiffen in true horror when Vil noses at your neck and breathes in deeply.

“Perhaps we can find you a much more suitable alternative to that trash.”

If you could tell yourself that the beatings of your former spouse could not compare to the burning pain of Vil’s fangs within your flesh, would you still have gone to him?

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #my works #guess this is the Halloween series of twst lol #wrote this w a suddent burst of inspiration

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hectic-hector · 7 months

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Encantober prompt #30: Blood

Sweet Sentiments

(Summary: the long-awaited sequel to "Sympathy Pain". It's that time of the month again, but Bruno manages to handle it (and his sobrinas) a little bit better this time. Mild CW for a small amount of blood.)

They were out of salt. Julieta was certain of it. She had searched every shelf of the pantry, as well as each and every cabinet, multiple times. Nothing. Ever optimistic (or simply desperate), she’d searched until Casita grew irritated and began to loudly clack the counter tiles in protest. When that didn’t work, the house resorted to sealing the pantry and cabinet doors shut, refusing to let Julieta open them again.

Annoyed though she was, she knew she couldn’t blame Casita. The eldest Madrigal triplet was an absolute basket case when she didn’t have every single ingredient she needed. She had even dipped her pinky in the sugar bowl and sampled the crystalline powder inside just to make sure it hadn’t been swapped out again. Nope. Still sugar. For the first time ever, she found herself mentally berating Camilo for not playing that classic prank on her. Julieta placed her palms on two jittery tiles to calm them down and heaved a deep, dramatic sigh. “Looks like arepas are out of the question.” There was a soft thud, followed by the rhythmic sound of fluttering tiles, as a coconut rolled along the counter and stopped right in front of her. She looked at it for a moment before smiling. “I guess I could make cocadas instead. Gracias, Casita!” Julieta set to work grating coconut meat. After several minutes of culinary ambiance, the telltale thwap thwap thwap of sandals caught her ear. She didn’t have to turn around to know who had entered the kitchen.

"Bruno, be honest,” she said with her back to him, “did you use up all the salt again?"

Bruno froze, staring saucer-eyed at the back of his sister’s head.

“Nnnot all of it.” “That’s what you said about the chocolate last time." “Yeah, but I only need a small dash of salt when I use it. You try convincing a colony of rats that they don’t need nearly as much chocolate as they think they do!” He walked over to where his sister stood to see what she was working on. Julieta glanced over and noticed the light gray rat on his right shoulder. Or rather, the back end of a rat. It was facing the other way with its front end hidden under peppery locks of Bruno’s hair. “Is that Horacio or Ignacio?” she asked, recognizing the color of the rat’s fur. “Rosalita,” Bruno replied. “She’s their triplet sister.” He lifted her tail up. “See? No huevos. Big difference. S’why I usually don’t let the boys ride on my shoulders. I don’t need those things in my face!”

Julieta couldn’t help but chuckle. “Does Rosalita like coconut?” “Let’s see!”

Bruno reached up and turned the rat around so that she was facing forward. Julieta offered up a cupped palm with fresh shreds of coconut meat in the middle of it. Rosalita sniffed her hand. A moment later she found the treat and scooped up a mouthful before settling back on her haunches. Holding the shreds in her tiny little hands, she nibbled away happily at them. Bruno grinned.

“Yep. She does!” He reached up again to give her a little scratch behind the ears, but Rosalita made an indignant squeak and promptly turned to face the other way, her tail wrapping around Bruno’s throat to steady herself on his narrow shoulder. He scratched her rump instead, earning another squeak of protest.

“It’s alright, Rosie!” he said with a chuckle. “She thinks I’m trying to snatch her food.” “Speaking of snatched food,” Julieta started, and Bruno braced himself, “what did happen to the salt, if you didn’t take it?”

Bruno shrugged his unoccupied shoulder. “I dunno. Maybe Camilo used it on the snails in the garden?” “I doubt it. Antonio caught him doing that once and had an absolute meltdown. I don’t think ’Milo would dare do it again.” Bruno raised a brow. “Can Toñito talk to snails?” Julieta shook her head as she resumed shredding coconut. “He’s always loved animals, even snails. Doesn’t matter if they can speak to him or not. When he was four he found a snail with a pretty pink and yellow shell that he wanted to keep as a pet.” “I remember that. He named it after Casita, didn’t he?” “Mm-hm. He said the snail’s house was as pretty as ours, so he called it Casitita.” Bruno stood beside his sister and picked up the unshredded half of the coconut. “What are you making?” “Cocadas. I was going to make arepas for the construction crew working on the Peña-Suarez house –” Bruno set the coconut down and put his hands up. “I know, I know, but I swear, Juli, I didn’t use all your salt! I’ve got my own private stash. See?” He pulled his ruana aside and showed her the breast pocket of his shirt. “There’s still some left, if you want it.”

Julieta smirked. "The last time you gave me your pocket salt, it had lint in it, so no thank you."

“Eh, your loss.” He reached into his pocket, scooping up salt, then flung it over his ratless shoulder before a look of panic crossed his face. “No, wait! That was the last of it!” “Then why don’t you go down to the market and get some more?” Julieta replied with an arched brow. “I’ve got a lot of work to do here, and you’re not exactly helping just standing around.” “Should I also get some –” “Yes!” “You don’t even know what I was going to say!” “It doesn’t matter,” she said as she shooed him away. “If you think we need it, then we probably do. Use your own judgment.”

It was Bruno’s turn to smirk. “You’re asking the guy who told a priest he’d go bald to use his own judgment?” “The same guy who knew his sobrinas needed chocolate and went out of his way to get it for them.” Julieta turned to face him with a tender smile. “That guy. I trust his judgment.” Bruno couldn’t help but return the smile, though he embellished it with a dramatic sigh. “Alright. I’ll go. But only because you know how to butter me up.” He lifted the rat from his shoulder, planted a kiss on the top of her head, and set her down on the floor. “Off you go, Rosalita! No rats allowed at the market!” “Or in the kitchen,” Julieta reminded him. “It’s one thing when they’re on your shoulder –” “Esta bien, Juli. She knows.” Bruno nodded toward Rosalita, who was already scurrying away to find the nearest hole in the wall. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “Will you please keep it down? You’re being too loud.” “What are you talking about? All I did was grow some orchids.” “Well you’re growing them too loudly! And those flowers are hideous!” “They’re dracula orchids. They don’t have to be beautiful. What is your problem?” Camilo waltzed in between his sister and cousin, shapeshifting into the former. “Oh, don’t mind me,” he said in Dolores’s voice. “It’s that time of the month when everything is my problem!”

Dolores growled and shoved him. Camilo snickered and shifted back into his own form. “What? You make it pretty obvious when you can’t even stand the sound of flowers blooming.” He turned to look at the orchids Isabela was holding. “Whoa, these flowers have faces? No way!” Isabela beamed proudly. “That’s why they’re also known as monkey face orchids,” she said with a snide smirk aimed directly at Dolores. “And what is that supposed to mean?” Dolores demanded, hands on her hips. “It means they can be whatever they want because they don’t care what you think about them!” Isabela shot back as vines began to envelop the nearest column and wall. Twisted crimson flowers burst into bloom on them, coupled with long, needle-like thorns. Camilo raised a brow. “You too, huh?” Isabela glowered at him. “What?” He gestured to the vines. “You always grow these during that–”

THWUMP!

Camilo was silenced by a giant rafflesia flower to the face. “You’re both being too loud!” Dolores snapped.

Having heard the commotion, Julieta poked her head out of the kitchen to investigate. Her fears were confirmed by the sight of the blood red flowers creeping along the walls. She went back over to the oven to keep an eye on the cocadas, casting an uneasy glance out the nearest window. They were low on chocolate, but she knew she could depend on her brother to get more from the market, just as he had the previous month. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Bruno returned with a sackful of goods and a look of annoyance creasing his brow. “I asked Señor Fuentes what he wanted for five pounds of coffee beans,” he said as he unpacked his purchases. “And do you know what he said? He said he wanted a vision. Just a vision. Simple enough, right? Oh, no. Of course not. I invited him back to Casita, but he insisted I give him a vision right then and there.” Julieta set the cocadas to cool on the windowsill and came over to see what Bruno had bought. Salt, cinnamon, coffee, corn, and avocados were laid out on the counter.

“What did you tell him?” she asked, picking up the salt. “I told him he was crazy,” Bruno answered matter-of-factly. Julieta’s eyes widened. “You didn’t!” “Well, no. I didn’t say that out loud. I did tell him he was drinking way too much of his own coffee if he thought I could just conjure up a sand storm in the middle of the marketplace! And even if I could, I doubt anyone else there would appreciate it.” “Did he actually want a tablet, or did he just want a vision?” Bruno shrugged. “I told him I could do it without the sand storm if he didn’t mind taking my word for it, but that if he wanted to see the vision for himself, I would need sand. No sand, no tablet. He finally gave me the coffee and muttered something about coming over tomorrow, so I think he finally got it.”

Julieta nodded and looked over the groceries again. “You didn’t happen to get any chocolate, did you?” Bruno also looked at the groceries. “Uh, no. Sorry, was I supposed to?” “It would have helped, but I didn’t realize until after you’d left.” Julieta glanced over toward Casita’s courtyard, where Isabela had surrounded herself with an array of particularly lethal-looking plants, while twin Doloreses argued with each other nearby.

Bruno followed her gaze. “That time again, huh?” Julieta nodded. “Do all the girls have it at the same time?” “Usually, yes.” The real Dolores stopped bickering with her doppelganger and turned to stare in utter disbelief at her aunt and uncle. The two stared back at her, realizing they’d been caught.

Dolores turned beet red and hurried off to her room, leaving an unfazed Camilo to mimic his cousin instead. Annoyed, Isabela retaliated by encircling him with several large Venus flytraps that immediately began snapping at his legs.

Julieta sighed. “We really need that chocolate.” She went back over to the windowsill to check the cocadas. “I have to go deliver these, so I’ll pick some up while I’m out,” she said as she placed the treats inside a small handbasket, then turned to Bruno. “Would you mind watching the kids?” “They’re mostly old enough to watch themselves now, aren’t they?” “I mean, if there are any problems, can I trust you to be the responsible adult here?” “Responsible is a strong word,” Bruno began, but Julieta was already heading for the door. “Wait! You’re seriously going to leave me in charge? What about Gus and Félix?” “Agustín tends to make himself scarce when he knows the girls are menstruating, and Félix is on the construction crew.” “Pepa –” “–Is doing climate control to make sure the cement sets properly.” “Ma –” “Mamá’s visiting the Guzmáns.” Julieta paused at the door and turned to face her brother with a reassuring smile. “You’ll do just fine, Bruni,” she said, calling him by his old nickname. “I have every confidence in you.” “Not the best decision you could have made, to be honest.” She gave him a good-natured smirk. “I stand by it. And I’ll be back before anyone even notices I’ve gone.” Bruno smirked back. “Excuse me, but who’s the psychic here? I don’t even need a vision to know that the instant Doña Martina sees you, she’s going to invite you in for tea and gossip. And you won’t have the heart to say no.”

Julieta rolled her eyes. “Would you rather run my errands for me?” she asked, holding out the basket of cocadas toward him. Bruno took a step back and put his hands up, shaking his head. “Oh, no. I’ve reached my social limit for the day, thank you very much. If they’re not furry or family, I’m done dealing with them.” Julieta sighed. “Alright then. You’re in charge until I return, but you know the rules: no rats in the kitchen, and sand stays inside your tower.” Casita opened the front door to allow her to step out. Bruno followed, stopping at the threshold. “Don’t your rules kinda defeat the purpose of me being in charge?” he called after her.

CRASH!

Bruno jumped and spun around. A large terra cotta pot lay broken in the middle of the courtyard. He looked up to see Luisa standing on the balcony directly above, gripping the railing with guilt etched across her face. Isabela appeared beside her and looked down with a gasp. “Luisa! That was my favorite cactus! How could you?” “I didn’t mean to!” Luisa replied. “I was just moving it out of the way, but then Mirabel ran right past me and I didn’t want her to run into it, so I just kind of fumbled it and –”

“MIRABELLL!”

“ – and accidentally dropped it over the railing.”

Isabela huffed. “She is so dead!” “It’s not like you can’t just grow another cactus,” Luisa pointed out as the two of them headed down the stairs. “A cactus is a cactus. They’re all the same.” Isabela made it to the ground floor ahead of Luisa, turning on her with an icy glare. “They are NOT all the same! You take that back!” She stood over the broken pot, looking torn between weeping and raging. “Her name was Elenora, and she was my emotional support cactus!” “Then why was it just sitting there on the mezzanine?” Luisa asked. “Why wasn’t it in your room?” “Because she also guarded my door!” Isabela snapped in a tone that said the answer was obvious. “Well it did the job alright, because I got pricked just walking past it!”

“Well maybe if you didn’t lumber around like a gorilla, you could have avoided it!” Luisa loomed over Isabela, teeth and fists clenched. “You wanna repeat that, princess?” Undeterred, Isabela merely smiled and batted her eyes. “Oh, didn’t you hear me the first time?” she purred, “Or do you even have any ears under all those bulging slabs of meat you call muscles?”

Bruno quickly wedged himself between the two girls, holding a palm up in front of each one.

“Alright now, let’s not say anything we might regret!” he said, a little louder than he’d meant to. The sudden appearance of twisted, thorny vines protectively encircling Isabela made Bruno’s skin crawl unpleasantly at the memory of being assaulted by them a month prior. He recalled his poor choice of words with his nieces that had led to the assault and made a mental note to be more tactful. “I understand that you’re both, uh, going through some things right now, so let’s just try to be reasonable here. Isa, do you want to tell your sister how you feel, but maybe try phrasing it a little differently? Lulu, are you willing to give her another chance?” Both girls glared at each other in silence for a moment before Isabela nodded calmly. “Yes, Tío. Of course. I would just like to ask Luisa how many times she skipped brain day, because it seems to be the only muscle in her body that she never uses.” “The brain isn’t a muscle, hibiscus head!” Luisa retorted. “You’d know that if you didn’t spend all day huffing pollen!” Before he could say a word, Bruno found himself on the floor, the exposed skin of his face, neck, and hands stinging with pain. He looked up to see the bougainvillea surrounding Isabela had practically exploded all over the courtyard. He sat up, wincing at the little stabs of pain all over his body. Several thorns had gone right through his clothes, though the added layer that his ruana provided kept them from going very deep. He felt a hand on his arm attempting to help him up and accepted it. Luisa and Isabela were still arguing as Mirabel led Bruno into the kitchen. “I find it best to just stay out of the way when those two start fighting,” she whispered. Bruno nodded agreement. He shook some thorns from his ruana before taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Mamá made cocadas,” Mirabel said as she looked around. She picked up a small dish towel from the counter. “She took them to the construction crew working on the new house,” Bruno told her. “Guess I’ll have to wait ‘til she gets back.” He gingerly pulled at a thorn in his forearm, then gave up quickly with a hiss of pain. Mirabel turned to him with a look of concern that uncannily mirrored her mother’s. “Well, we can’t leave those thorns in. Here, let me pull them out.”

She pulled a chair up to sit down facing Bruno. She began to reach for a thorn in his neck, but he drew back nervously and held up a hand to block her. “M-maybe we should wait for your mother.” Mirabel sighed and took his hand in both of her own. “Please, Tío, let me help you. The longer you leave those in, the more they’re going to hurt.” Without warning, she plucked a thorn from the back of his hand. It happened so quickly that Bruno didn’t even see her do it. He let out a small hiss, but thankfully the pain had already passed. Mirabel gently pressed the dish towel against the skin, soaking up the little dot of blood from the wound. “There, now. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “I guess not,” Bruno murmured. “I mean, as long as you’re that quick with the rest of them –”

He let out another hiss as Mirabel yanked a second thorn from his hand. She pressed the cloth against the wound for a second before moving on to the next thorn.

It didn’t take long for Bruno to decide he didn’t want to see where she would strike next, so he kept his eyes closed. Several yips, hisses, and half-uttered swears later, he cracked an eye open. The first thing he saw was the dish towel, now covered in red spots, moving in to dab at his cheek. He reached up. “You don’t need to do this, Mira,” he said, taking the towel from her. “I appreciate it, but it’s not your job to clean up my mess. I mean, I can barely stand the sight of my own blood, so I can only imagine how this must make you feel.” He nodded to the bloody cloth. Mirabel shook her head. “Honestly, it doesn’t bother me. I have to deal with a lot more blood than that on a regular basis, so…” she shrugged, only now beginning to look the slightest bit uncomfortable. Bruno raised a brow. “Oh?” The girl looked away with a blush, biting her lip. “Oh.” Bruno blushed as well. “Right.”

“And it’s… kind of my fault that this happened in the first place,” Mirabel confessed, taking the towel back from him. “I ran past Luisa on the mezzanine and made her drop Isa’s cactus.” She reached up to pull a thorn from Bruno’s chin. “And why did y– YOWCH! – why did you do that?”

Mirabel blushed again. Saying nothing, she held up the bloodied towel as a hint. Bruno stared at it for a moment before understanding. “I wasn’t expecting it so soon,” she murmured, eyes downcast. She dropped the towel to her lap and nervously twisted it with both hands. Bruno was surprised that his niece was being so open with him, given how she had reacted to his knowledge of the subject only a month before. Now, seeing the way she was hunched over, brow slightly creased, he wondered if she was having cramps. “Your ma will be back soon with chocolate,” he said, offering a small smile when she looked up at him. His eyes seemed to glow faintly for a moment, then his smile grew. “And she’s going to make chocolate tres leches cake for dessert! Don’t tell her I told you, though. It’s a surprise.”

Mirabel tried to give him a scolding look, but failed. Instead, she ended up mirroring his smile. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The cake was even better than Bruno could have foreseen. Julieta gave him a heaping slice, encouraging him to eat more to make up for the malnutrition he’d suffered inside the walls. In the few months since Casita had been restored, Bruno’s health and physique had visibly improved, despite the fact that many of his extra servings ended up being eaten by Camilo instead.

A sprig of mint leaves sprouted on top of Bruno’s cake slice as he picked up his fork. He looked over at Isabela, who smiled apologetically. “Sorry about the thorns earlier, Tío. Have some soothing mint with your cake.” Bruno smiled back, appreciative. “It’s okay, Isa. And thank you.” He took a bite and his eyes lit up. “Wow! I had no idea this could taste even better! That’s quite an achievement! Or should I say, achieve-mint?” Antonio and the girls giggled. Camilo rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should add mint to my desserts more often,” said Julieta. “Your cooking is amazing already,” said Bruno, “but a little improve-mint wouldn’t hurt!”

More giggles, plus a small groan from Camilo. The boy looked miserably at Bruno. “I’m glad you’re back, Tío. I really am, but you’re killing me with the puns.” Bruno smirked at the boy, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Well, thanks, ‘Milo. I appreciate the senti-mint.” Camilo threw his arms heavenward with a loud groan. Mirabel snickered. “About time you got your just desserts!” she teased.

Camilo shot her a dirty look, then sighed. “May I please be excused from this family?” “Not a chance,” said Bruno. “I tried that once, and look where I am now!” Camilo crossed his arms with a huff. “Rats!” “Hey, watch your language,” Bruno warned with a teasing grin. THE END @encantober-official

#encantober2023 #Encanto #Bruno #Mirabel #Julieta #Isabela #Luisa #Camilo #Dolores #Madrigal

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