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cavalorn · 1 year

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Eye of newt and toe of frog: what was really in the witches’ cauldron in Macbeth? (CW: torture, death, historical racism, historical antisemitism, animal and human body parts) Ever since Scott Cunningham first made the following claim in the 1980s, there has been an increasingly widely circulated belief that the ingredients of the Macbeth potion were not grisly animal parts at all but merely herbs and plants, concealed under code names:

“every ingredient (Shakespeare) lists as being in the witches' pot refers to a plant and not the gruesome substance popularly thought”

This proposal had not appeared at all in analyses of Shakespeare prior to Cunningham’s Magical Herbalism: The Secret Craft of the Wise but is now extremely popular, especially the often-cited proposal that ‘eye of newt really meant mustard seed’. Lists of ‘herbal codes’ circulate online, purporting to explain all the different ingredients of the Macbeth potion away as plants. Witches, according to these lists, were grossly misrepresented. Their grisly concoctions were nothing but herbal mixtures.

Code-names and substitutions have certainly played a part in magic in history. Cunningham was familiar with, and makes reference to, the Greek Magical Papyri in which a famous list of secret substitutions is given. For example, ‘the tears of a Hamadryas baboon’ are to be taken to mean ‘dill juice’. The concept of a secret herbal code in which grisly-seeming or mythical ingredients are in fact plants – and only the enlightened few are aware of this - was therefore not a new one.

Was Cunningham correct?

First let’s look at the historical context.

Shakespeare wrote Macbeth under the patronage of James VI of Scotland / I of England. The King was paranoid about witches, was personally present at the interrogation of at least one, and wrote a book called Daemonologie all about them. The depiction of witches in Macbeth would have needed to flatter and support the King’s personal convictions. These fictional witches are therefore evil through and through, and we should be suspicious of any interpretation that seeks to lessen their horror.

Other plays were written around the same time that feature witches in similar roles, such as Jonson’s Masque of Queens and Middleton’s The Witch. We will come to those in due time.

Let’s examine the evidence for Cunningham’s claim, line by line. Round about the cauldron go;

In the poison’d entrails throw.

Right from the start, we have a reference to ‘poison’d entrails’. This immediately tells us that the ingredients are characterised both by being poisonous or venomous in nature and by coming from living creatures. Herbs and plants do not have entrails.

Toad, that under cold stone

Days and nights hast thirty one

Swelter’d venom sleeping got,

Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot.

The first ingredient is, quite plainly, a living toad. Specifically, it is a toad that has been secreting venom over a period of time.

The choice of a venom-secreting toad as the very first ingredient cannot have been a coincidence, seeing as the King had himself interrogated an accused witch who had been put to torture, and who had ‘confessed’ to collecting toad’s venom in order to use it in a sorcerous attempt against the King’s life.

The alleged witch’s name was Agnis Thompson, and the King interrogated her in 1591. His account of this is written up in his book, Daemonologie. Agnis Thompson 'confessed' to having taken a black toad, hung it up and collected the venom that dripped from it over three days in an oyster shell. This venom was supposedly intended to be used in a spell that would bewitch the King to death, 'and put him to such extraordinary paines, as if he had beene lying vpon sharp thornes and endes of Needles.'

It is worth noting at this point that the King also recorded his belief that the Devil causes witches to "joint dead corpses, & to make powders thereof" which are then used in spells. This belief can also be found in Daemonologie.

So in the very first ingredient that goes into the cauldron, the live toad steeped in its own venom, we have an immediate disproof of Cunningham’s claim that ‘every ingredient refers to a plant’, along with a clear reference to the King’s own personal lived experience and profound beliefs concerning witches.

It ought to go without saying that King James VI/I was a deluded bigot who had innocent women tortured and put to death in service to his twisted agenda, but let’s say it anyway.

Fillet of a fenny snake,

In the cauldron boil and bake;

As with ‘entrails’, the use of the term ‘fillet’ leaves in no doubt that we are dealing with a dismembered living creature. A fenny snake is simply a snake from the fens.

Convoluted attempts have been made to identify ‘fillet of a fenny snake’ as a plant of some kind, but given that Cunningham’s claim has already been disproved, there seems no point in not taking Shakespeare at face value.

Eye of newt

Let’s get this out of the way: there is zero historical evidence that ‘eye of newt’ ever meant ‘mustard seed’. There are no herbals that give this as a name – not that were written prior to the 1980s, at any rate. The obvious conclusion is that it is modern lore created in sympathy with Cunningham’s claim. The ‘mustard seed’ interpretation is all over the Internet, of course, because sites typically copy one another without bothering to look for original sources.

(I would like to say, for the record, that if I assert here that ‘no historical source says X was ever used to mean Y’ and anyone later provides a historical source that unambiguously DOES say X was used to mean Y, I will print this article out and eat it. With mustard.)

Assertions that eye of newt meant mustard seed usually also assert that it was a popular component of witches’ spells. In fact, Macbeth is the one and only historical instance of ‘eye of newt’ appearing as a spell component. It is famous because the play is famous, not because it was in widespread use. The idea that it was a codename for some other ingredient thus appears even less credible.

Other attempts to interpret Shakespeare according to the Cunningham agenda include the rival claim, sometimes seen, that ‘eye of newt’ actually meant a type of daisy. Just as with mustard seed, there is no historical evidence at all to support this.

We should perhaps expect to encounter multiple claims as to the ‘real meaning’ of the potion ingredients, because the point of these claims is not to provide a definitive substitution code that was actually used by practitioners of the past, but simply to repeat the insistence that Shakespeare’s words do not mean what they say.

It is, of course, possible to assert that the enlightened ‘mustard seed’ interpretation has simply been handed down secretly through the years from witch to witch, never once appearing in print until the 1980s when such things could at last be shared openly within the hallowed pages of Llewellyn books. Claims of this sort are unanswerable.

Incidentally, the typical construction for plant names is not ‘B of A’, but ‘A’s B’ or simply ‘AB’, as we find with names like day’s eye (daisy), baby’s breath, coltsfoot and foxglove. If Shakespeare’s spell had run ‘breath of babe and eye of ox / foot of colt and glove of fox’ then we would be having a very different conversation.

Tongue of dog

This ingredient is the first one where the Cunningham agenda might seem credible, if it had not already been disproven by the very first of the ingredients. There is a herb called ‘houndstongue’, Cynoglossum officinale, which is also known as houndstooth and dog’s tongue.

Was Shakespeare referring to a herb here, then, rather than the tongue of a literal dog? Given the anatomical specificity of some of the later ingredients, there is no reason to think so. Animal tongues have played a part in magic for centuries. The Epistula Vulteris (800 CE), for example, proposes putting a vulture’s tongue in your shoe to make enemies adore you. The 16th century Tree of Knowledge instructs the reader to take the tongue of a hoopoe and hang it on the right side of the body, close to the heart, in order to defeat anyone in court.

Wool of bat

Despite this ingredient being relatively innocuous – ‘wool’ could theoretically be harvested from a bat without harming it – attempts have been made to identify this as moss, or even as holly leaves, via a convoluted train of association that links the shape of bat’s wings with the shape of holly. No historical sources give ‘wool of bat’ or ‘bat’s wool’ as a term for a plant.

Toe of frog

Some modern sources assert that ‘toe of frog’ refers to the buttercup, possibly because the Latin name Ranunculus means ‘little frog’. One is left to wonder what part of a buttercup the ‘toe’ might refer to.

Unfortunately, no historical sources give ‘toe of frog’ or ‘frog’s toe’ as a term for a plant.

Adder’s fork

At first sight this looks like another possible point for Cunningham. Adders have forked tongues, and there are several plants that bear the name ‘adder’s tongue’. However, there is no evidence of the use of the specific term ‘adder’s fork’ to refer to a plant.

We would also have to explain why, given that these ingredients are demonstrably not being presented in an overall context of plant symbolism, any of the plants known as adder’s tongue would be intended here over the surface meaning.

Blindworm’s sting

The ‘sting’ (fang) of a venomous snake, or possibly a slow-worm, which are ironically not venomous. This ingredient is probably intended to pair with the last one: they are both from the mouths of reptiles.

No historical sources give ‘blindworm’s sting’ as a term for a plant.

Lizard’s leg

The leg of a lizard.

No historical sources give ‘lizard’s leg’ as a term for a plant.

Owlet’s wing

The wing of an owlet, or baby owl.

No historical sources give ‘owlet’s wing’ as a term for a plant. (I am getting as tired of typing this as you probably are of reading it.)

Scale of dragon

An ingredient that at first glance appears to buttress Cunningham’s claim, because unlike the others it cannot possibly mean what it says. Dragons don’t exist. However, ingredients that use the term ‘dragon’ in their naming do exist, such as ‘dragon’s blood’.

Excitingly, there is a plant known as the dragon’s scale fern, Pyrrosia piloselloides. Should we concede a point to Cunningham here?

Unfortunately, I do not think we can. The dragon’s scale fern is native to Singapore and was first catalogued by Carl Linnaeus in 1763. There seems no way that Shakespeare could possibly have heard of it. Moreover, ‘dragon’s scale’ is merely an English translation of the term ‘sisek naga’. I’ve been unable to find any use of the name ‘dragon’s scale fern’ in English prior to the 20th century.

Did Shakespeare mean a literal dragon, then? Considering his plays involve literal ghosts (e.g. Caesar, Banquo, Hamlet’s father), literal monsters (Caliban) and literal witches with the power to ‘hover through the fog’ and summon storms at sea, we needn’t worry about Shakespeare depicting things which we now know to be impossible. So yes, literal dragon’s scale. Tooth of wolf

It is tempting to identify this ingredient as the herb houndstooth, but the problem there is that houndstooth is the same as houndstongue, for which see ‘tongue of dog’ above.

No historical sources give ‘wolf’s tooth’ as a term for a plant. Witches’ mummy

Either ‘the mummified flesh of dead witches’ or ‘mummified human flesh, as used by witches’. Bizarre though it may sound, mummified human flesh was used for medical purposes before and after Shakespeare’s time. See Sir Thomas Browne, Hydriotaphia, 1658: ‘The Egyptian mummies which Cambyses spared, avarice now consumeth. Mummy is become merchandize, Mizraim cures wounds, and Pharaoh is sold for balsams.’

No historical sources give ‘witches’ mummy’ as a term for a plant.

Maw and gulf

Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark

The mouth and stomach of a shark.

No historical sources give ‘shark’s maw’, ‘shark’s gulf’ or ‘shark’s stomach’ as a term for a plant. There is a succulent called Shark's Mouth Mesemb that is native to South Africa, but given the additional description lavished on the shark – ‘ravin’d, salt-sea’ – it seems pretty obviously a literal shark.

Root of hemlock digg’d i’ the dark

Here we come to our first actual plant ingredient, which is named as such. Do please note the significance of ‘digg’d i’ the dark’. It’s not just hemlock, it’s hemlock that has been gathered in the ‘proper’ way. Where literal plants are concerned, the time and method of harvesting is magically significant. This suggests that far from everything in the spell being a plant as Cunningham proposed, the actual plants involved are special and treated with particular care.

Liver of blaspheming Jew

Exactly what it appears to be, disgusting historical antisemitism and all.

Gall of goat

The gall (bile) of a goat. (Goat’s gall and honey were used as a treatment for cancer in Saxon times. Who knew?)

No historical sources give ‘goat’s gall’ or ‘goat’s bile’ as a term for a plant.

Slips of yew

Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse

Another actual plant ingredient, named as such. Just as we saw with the hemlock root, when the spell calls for actual plants, the witch is careful to specify the method of gathering. ‘Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse’ means that the yew was peeled off in slivers during an eclipse of the moon.

Nose of Turk

The literal nose of a literal Turkish person. My suspicion is that this mocking of foreign people and their religions was deliberate pandering to the King, almost to the point of pantomime.

Tartar’s lips

See above.

Finger of birth-strangled babe

Ditch-deliver’d by a drab

The severed finger of a baby strangled at birth, having been born in a ditch to a sex worker.

There is a Korean succulent called ‘baby’s finger’ but there is no hope whatsoever that Shakespeare could have meant something so innocent.

Tiger’s chaudron

A tiger’s entrails. Derives from the exact same source as ‘cauldron’, so Shakespeare was frankly cheating a bit to use it as a rhyme here.

No historical sources give ‘tiger’s chaudron’ or ‘tiger’s entrails’ as a term for a plant.

A baboon’s blood

Curiously, ‘the blood of a Hamadryas baboon’ is one of the ingredients in the Greek Magical Papyri which is deemed to be a code name. Unfortunately for Cunningham, the ingredient it is a code name for is the blood of a spotted gecko, bringing us all the way back to lizard’s legs and newts’ eyes.

It’s worth noting in passing that Shakespeare wouldn’t have been familiar with the Papyri Graecae Magicae, given that they weren’t rediscovered and republished until the 19th century.

In any case, no historical sources give ‘baboon’s blood’ as a term for a plant.

In summary, of the twenty-three ingredients that go into the witches’ cauldron:

two – yew and hemlock - are unambiguously plants and named as such, with the method of gathering described

two – tongue of dog and adder’s fork – resemble extant folk names for plants, i.e. houndstongue and adder’s tongue

the remaining nineteen are all animal or human body parts, or in the case of the toad, the entire animal

Cunningham does not seem to have considered that disguising innocent herbs with grisly sounding names would have invited trouble rather than deflecting it. For example, even if ‘wool of bat’ had been a codename for moss, no practitioner with an ounce of sense would have referred to it as such when they could just call it moss. Gathering moss might be eccentric; gathering wool of bat could be seen as diabolic.

Some commentators have taken the view that Shakespeare might have been using ironic humour, by listing ingredients that were grisly sounding but also folk names for ordinary plants, intending the audience to pick up on his clever references. The audience would, so the theory claims, have recognised the wordplay because the folk names would have been in common use at the time. This theory falls apart, however, simply because the vast majority of the ingredients were not folk names for plants, and only two can possibly be considered such. Even in their case it is necessary to use some creative interpretation.

There is an additional problem with the ‘secret herbal code’ hypothesis. Cunningham’s core argument is that ‘witches, magicians and occultists wished to keep secret the most powerful of the old magics’, hence the use of codes. And yet, the arguments advanced for which ingredient represents which plant are based on common folk names, not secret lore unavailable to the masses. One cannot draw a link between ‘tongue of dog’ and the herb houndstongue, insist that the parallel is obvious, and then claim that this was a secret code.

To use the Papyri Graecae Magicae as an example of a genuine secret substitution system, ‘a physician’s bone’ is code for ‘sandstone’. There is no conceivable way a person could have inferred the real ingredient from its code name. And yet, the supposed herbal codenames in Macbeth are all based on inference, such as ‘finger of birth-strangled babe’ being taken to mean ‘bloody finger’ and thus ‘foxglove’.

Media magica in other Jacobean dramas

As mentioned above, it was not only Shakespeare who wrote plays in which witches prepared concoctions that contained human or animal body parts. However, only Shakespeare seems to have been singled out for his alleged use of secret herbal code names (which, as we have seen, does not bear scrutiny).

Ben Jonson’s The Masque of Queens was written for King James VI/I and was first performed in February 1609 (three years after Macbeth) in honour of the King’s eldest son, Prince Henry. Like Macbeth, it flatters the King’s obsession with witches by featuring a gathering of them. They discuss the ingredients they have gathered, such as:

I have been all day, looking after

A raven, feeding upon a quarter;

And, soon, as she turn'd her beak to the south,

I snatch'd this morsel out of her mouth.

This hag has snatched a morsel of human corpse that had been cut into four pieces (as in ‘hung, drawn and quartered’) out of the beak of a raven.

Just as in ‘Macbeth’, we then hear of a miscellany of gruesome ingredients, such as the bitten-off sinews of a hanged murderer, the fat of an infant, the brains of a cat, frog’s blood and backbone, owl’s eyes, viper’s skin and basilisk’s blood, none of which can possibly be taken to be codenames for plants. Moreover, we are fortunate to have Jonson’s own notes on his work, in which he laboriously details the sources he used and the practices he intends to depict:

But we apply this examination of ours to the particular use; whereby, also, we take occasion, not only to express the things (as vapours, liquors, herbs, bones, flesh, blood, fat, and such like,

which are called Media magica) but the rites of gathering them, and from what places, reconciling as near as we can, the practice of antiquity to the Neoterick and making it familiar with our popular witchcraft.

Jonson’s representation of plants is of particular interest here. He has one hag declare: And I have been plucking, plants among,

Hemlock, henbane, adder's-tongue,

Night-shade, moon-wort, libbard's-bane;

And twice, by the dogs, was like to be ta'en.

And offers the following explanatory text: Cicuta, hyoscyarnus, ophioglosson, solanum, martagon, doronicum, aconitum are the common venefical ingredients remembered by Paracelsus, Porta, Agrippa, and others; which I make her

to have gathered, as about a castle, church, or some vast building (kept by dogs) among ruins and wild heaps.

Just as with Shakespeare’s mention of hemlock and yew, there is no suggestion of code names.

‘The Witch’ by Thomas Middleton was also performed by the King’s Men. It, too, depicts witches in exactly the way the King expected to see them depicted. For example, Hecate says to Stadlin: [Giving her a dead child's body] Here, take this unbaptised brat.

Boil it well, preserve the fat

The subject of herbs comes up in this graphic exchange: STADLIN

Where be the magic herbs?

HECATE

They're down his throat:

His mouth cramm'd full, his ears and nostrils stuff'd.

I thrust in eleoselinum lately

Aconitum, frondes populeas, and soot-

You may see that, he looks so b[l]ack i' th' mouth-

Then sium, acorum vulgare too,

[Pentaphyllon], the blood of a flitter-mouse,

Solanum somnificum et oleum.

Middleton even brings a comic touch to the loathsomeness of the witches’ concoctions. Almachildes (who has brought the witches toads in marzipan as a gift) is invited to dine with them, and responds

How? Sup with thee? Dost think I'll eat fried rats

And pickled spiders?

Conclusions

The witches depicted by Shakespeare, Jonson and Middleton for the entertainment of King James VI/I are shown employing animal and human body parts as well as plants in their spells, in accordance with the King’s personal beliefs and with the playwrights’ understanding of magic as depicted in such texts as Cornelius Agrippa’sDe Occulta Philosophia.

There is no evidence to support the suggestion that any of the ingredients named are meant to be taken other than literally. They are not codenames for plants. Eye of newt in particular is not a folk name for mustard seed and never has been.

Scott Cunningham’s assertion that “every ingredient (Shakespeare) lists as being in the witches' pot refers to a plant and not the gruesome substance popularly thought” is simply wrong.

Although Cunningham was wrong, and may well have known it, his motivation is understandable. Modern witches are revolted by the idea of body parts being used in spells and wish to distance themselves from it. The ‘herbal code’ interpretation provided a means to recast the horrific Jacobean witch (who did not exist outside of the popular and kingly imagination) as an enlightened and humane herbalist.

But if we allow ourselves to misrepresent Shakespeare in this way, we risk erasing the memory of the real victims: Agnis Thompson, the accused witch who was tortured into ‘confessing’ her use of a toad, and her fellows. Squeamishness must not be allowed to prevent us from confronting the uncomfortable facts of history.

#scott cunningham #witchcraft #shakespeare #macbeth #eye of newt #herbalism #plants and herbs #witch

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themidnightghoul · 3 months

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Midnight in the Garden

Mountain is working in his greenhouse to decompress at the end of a long day and gets a visit from a very much in pain Rain. Of course he’s going to help his Water Lily, hopefully in more than one way.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2584 CW: Drug use for pain relief

Author Note: My writing has gotten much better since this (it was my first Ghost fic don’t judge me too hard for how bad it is lmao I was so new in the fandom when I wrote this) but in celebration of Mountain March, I’m bringing this back! Chronic pain Rain is my eternal HC so this means a lot to me and I hope you enjoy okay bye!

Read on AO3 or below!

After a long day of practice and dealing with his chaotic Ghoul pack, there was nothing Mountain enjoyed more than being in his greenhouses with his plants. It was his natural habitat, where he thrived most. Getting to dig his fingers into the soil and help his beautiful plant babies grow was nothing short of satisfying and it always made him feel good.

He walked up and down the aisles, fingers gently grazing the leaves and buds on each plant. This was his special greenhouse that he normally had to keep locked up because Swiss and Dew wouldn’t stop breaking in. Mountain was incredibly organized and noticed fairly quickly when the satchels he had made had started shrinking in number. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out just which of the Ghouls was behind it when he saw Swiss and Dew in the common area munching on chips and sweets while watching cartoons, giggling about absolutely nothing. He got a lock the next day, much to their dismay.

As he was checking on the small batches drying out on one of the tables, he heard the door to the greenhouse open and close. Without turning around, he spoke. “If you’re in here to steal some of my stash, I would much rather you just ask.” He picked up a container and inhaled, satisfied with how aromatic it was as it dried out.

“I’m not going to swipe anything, Mounty.” A small laugh made Mountain’s heart skip a beat and he turned around immediately.

“Rain.” A smile broke out across his face and his tail swished happily behind him. He quickly made his way over to his Water Ghoul, taking him into his arms and hugging him tightly.

“Oof, hey, Mounty. Go easy on me, yeah?” Rain tensed up and immediately Mountain stepped back with his arms on Rain’s shoulders, a look of concern on his face.

“What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay? What do you need? How can I help? Do I need to kill someo-”

Rain laughed and put his finger over Mountain’s mouth, shushing him. “Mounty it’s okay, take a breath.” He moved his hand to Mountain’s cheek and brushed it gently with his fingertips. “Just a pain flare up, that’s all it is.”

Mountain’s brow furrowed, taking in Rain’s current state as best he could. He noticed how tense he was, how slowly he moved, how his tail was basically hanging limply on the ground, and he was wearing sweatpants and one of Mountain’s shirts which were the clothes he found comforting when he wasn't feeling well. Gently, he took Rain’s hand, walked him over to the sofa at the back of the greenhouse, and sat him down. He moved to the cabinets and located the container that held the strain he grew for chronic pain management, something that had become increasingly necessary over the years. The bodies the Ghouls occupied tended to be fragile things, and sometimes they reached their limits which caused pain flares. Mountain worked long and hard creating his own strain of weed that was able to help those flares and he was quite proud of his progress.

“Mounty don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.” Now that Mountain had been made aware of it, he couldn't ignore the strain in Rain’s voice. It must have been a rough flare for him and that made Mountain work even faster, determined to help his love feel better.

He grabbed the container he was looking for and a grinder, picking out a handful and crushing it up to roll into several joints for Rain. He worked quickly and brought both a handful of freshly rolled joints and lighter over to Rain in just a few minutes. “Open,” his voice was low and focused, and when Rain immediately parted his lips for him, he smiled. “Good boy.” He popped the joint in between Rain’s lips, noting the blush that spread across his light blue skin, and handed him the lighter.

Rain lit the end of the joint, inhaled deeply and held the smoke in his lungs for a moment, before exhaling and dropping his head back on the sofa cushions. “Thanks, Mounty.” His voice was soft and small and Mountain’s heart ached for his Ghoul. This was really all he could do to help take away the pain but it was something he would do a million times over.

He sat down on the sofa next to Rain, carefully so as not to jostle him and potentially cause him more pain, and gently put his hand on his knee. “I’m sorry.” Mountain hated that there wasn’t more he could do for Rain.

Rain inhaled, held, and exhaled again and smiled softly. “Why are you apologizing?” He held the burning joint between his fingers up in the air. “This helps. I just…I hate bothering you for it. I feel like I should have a hold on this shit by now but…” he trailed off, his voice sad.

“Rainy, no. Don’t ever feel like you’re bothering me. I'm just sorry there isn't more I can do for you, love.” He scooted closer, just wanting to be close to his Water Ghoul. When Rain leaned his head on Mountain’s arm, he felt his heart skip a beat again. There had always been something about Rain that made him feel…different. Sure, the Ghouls shared everything, including each other, and no one was truly exclusive, but the entire pack knew that Mountain and Rain were something special.

Another inhale, hold, and exhale, and Mountain could actually feel Rain’s body finally release any tension it was holding in. Rain lifted his hand with the joint in it up to Mountain, silently offering him a hit, but Mountain simply chuckled and gently pushed his hand away.

“Mounty, you should at least have one tiny hit.” Rain’s voice sounded much calmer than it was previously, the effects of the weed finally taking hold. “For me?” With those two words, he moved his head down to Mountain’s lap, looking up at him with his gorgeous sea glass blue eyes that Mountain could not resist even if he wanted to. He would do anything for his Water Ghoul, no matter what he asked.

“Just one.” Mountain couldn’t hide the smile that broke out across his face when Rain sat up excitedly, his tail perked up behind him. He expected him to simply hand him the joint, but was caught off guard when he sat up on his knees and then swung one leg across Mountain, sitting down on his lap. Rain smirked, inhaling and holding the smoke in, and then he leaned forward with his hands on either side of Mountain’s face and kissed him, blowing the smoke into Mountain's mouth as he did.

It was like Mountain’s entire brain shut down all at once. He inhaled, looking into Rain’s eyes the entire time as he held it in, and then tilted his head back to exhale the smoke slowly. Rain laughed softly, leaning in against Mountain’s lips and whispering, “See? Not so bad, hmm?” He planted a quick kiss before leaning back to finish off the joint, and Mountain pulled him right back as soon as he inhaled, kissing him again and inhaling the smoke once more. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this before, but something about this moment between the two of them in his greenhouse made it different.

Mountain placed his hands gently on Rain’s waist, doing his best not to put any pressure on him until he was certain he was feeling better. “Water Lily…” He wanted to touch him, put his hands everywhere, but he was hesitant.

Rain’s eyes were hazed and he had the goofiest smile on his face, making Mountain’s heart twinge with love even more. “Yes, Mounty?” His voice was a whisper but there was a hint of desire hidden underneath his words that went straight to Mountain’s brain. Rain sat up, his knees still on either side of Mountain’s body, and leaned in towards him, gently kissing his neck.

Mountain cleared his throat, hands still resting on Rain’s tiny waist. “Do you…ahem…do you want another one?” He reached over to the table, grabbing another joint and putting it between Rain’s soft lips again, trying his best to avoid thinking about kissing him. That wasn't why Rain came to see him tonight.

But it didn't help that Rain lit the joint, inhaled, and went straight back to Mountain’s lips.

It didn't help that he rolled his hips as he moved, deliberately slow, making the exhale from Mountain slow and shaky.

It didn’t help that he looked at Mountain like he was ready to absolutely devour every bit of him.

“Fuck it.” He threw his hands on either side of Rain’s face, crashing against his lips like he was the air he needed to breathe. A whimper from the Water Ghoul sent shivers up Mountain’s spine and he groaned, moving one arm around his waist and pulling him closer, desperate to feel his body against him. Rain put the joint in the ashtray on the table next to them and started to unbutton Mountain’s shirt, running his claws up and down the skin he exposed with each pop of a button. Every touch was like lightning, sending tingles up and down his skin.

Rain was smiling against Mountain’s lips as they kissed, and it was clear that he was feeling the effects of the weed they had been smoking together, his body movements slow but more sure as his pain became more manageable. “Mounty…I need more of you.”

Mountain ripped off Rain’s shirt, not caring if he destroyed it, and started to kiss down his chest. He felt the cool temperature of his skin against his lips and shivered. Water Ghouls were naturally cooler and, to everyone's delight, wetter, so he knew this wouldn't be difficult for either of them. Rain raised his body up on his knees and Mountain reached for his sweatpants, purring with delight when Rain made it easier for him to remove them altogether, and nearly losing it entirely when he felt how hard Rain already was.

“Good boy, Rainy.” His voice was low, his speech slightly slowed, his brain feeling like he was on a cloud between the weed and how much pleasure he was already feeling. It was obvious that Rain was in a headspace where Mountain would be the one in control, and he didn’t mind that at all. He liked taking care of his Water Lily, liked hearing the noises he made when he hit just the right spot and had him a bumbling mess underneath him, liked feeling he was the only thing keeping him together while he simultaneously ruined him.

He felt Rain’s hands moving down to the waistband of his jeans and fumbling to grab the button and he chuckled softly, helping him out and popping the button out of place. “Please Mounty, please fuck me.” Mountain shuffled one hand underneath Rain to lift him up and used the other to scoot his pants and boxers down to his thighs. Rain let out a small whine as he felt Mountain’s considerable length get released, trying his best to reach for it between their bodies.

Mountain chuckled and tightened his grip on Rain’s body. “Not yet, Water Lily.” He heard Rain whine again, the sound so soft and needy, as he started to gently bite on Mountain’s neck and shoulder. Mountain took his free hand to the front of Rain’s body, dipping his hand below the waistband of his boxers and gripping his slick covered cock, slowly running his fist up and down the length of him.

“Satanas, you’re such a mess, baby. Fucking love Water Ghouls.” He continued to slowly stroke Rain and whisper soft praises in his ear. Rain was desperate and Mountain had him right where he wanted his little Ghoul. He made him wait just a moment longer, reaching to grab the joint once more and inhaling then sharing the smoke with Rain in a kiss that was mostly just Rain moaning into Mountain’s mouth. “You're being so good for me, love. I think you’ve earned this, yeah?”

Rain wordlessly cried out and Mountain could feel him desperately trying to press down, and this time he didn’t stop him from doing so. He helped him slowly lower his body down, taking Mountain a little at a time so he could acclimate to the stretch. The noises he made were so lovely and Mountain wished he could record them and play them on a loop forever. “Fuck Mounty, you feel so good.” Rain wasn't so far gone that he couldn't speak and his words sent a shiver down Mountain’s spine.

He let Rain set the pace, watching as he rolled his hips, raised and lowered his body, and took what he wanted from Mountain. With one hand in Rain’s hair and the other moving up and down his cock, Mountain was sure neither of them would last very long. He could feel the familiar tightness in the base of his spine that let him know he was approaching the finish that both Ghouls were chasing.

“Such a good boy, taking me so well, Rainy.” He pulled Rain against him and sunk his fangs into the soft skin between Rain’s neck and shoulder, causing Rain to cry out and spill all over his hand and chest. Mountain followed soon after, groaning and feeling Rain return the favor of biting into his shoulder as he spilled into the Water Ghoul with his name on his lips.

The two were breathless and simply sat together for a moment, each of them trying to clean up their bite marks and the mess on Mountain’s chest as best they could in their dazed states. After a few more minutes, which involved much praise and numerous kisses on both sides, Mountain pulled out of Rain as gently as he could and Rain whimpered softly at the loss. He didn’t move from Mountain’s lap, simply adjusted himself so he was cuddled against the giant Ghoul’s chest. The two of them laid down on the sofa together, riding the high of both the weed and the orgasms they just shared. Mountain held Rain against his chest, gently playing with his hair, and Rain purred softly, his tail wrapping around Mountain’s calf.

“Do you feel better now, Water Lily?” Mountain’s voice was calm and blissed out and he tried not to spook Rain in his post-sex daze.

“Much better,” he whispered, and started planting small kisses across Mountain’s chest until he fell asleep, his pain a distant memory and a smile on his face. Mountain kissed the top of Rain’s head and gently hugged him, falling asleep soon after his Water Ghoul.

The two Ghouls were so relaxed sleeping in each others arms that they appeared completely unaware of both Swiss and Dew sneaking their way through the greenhouse, making a beeline for the cabinet that held their prize. As they passed the sofa, Mountain cracked an eye open and grinned.

“If you wake him up, neither of you will see another joint again for as long as you remain in this realm,” he whispered, doing his best to not disturb Rain.

Swiss and Dew turned back around and quickly but quietly left the greenhouse, leaving Mountain to chuckle and fall back asleep, content with how his day had ended.

#midnight writes #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #mountain march #spicy tag #cw: drug use #ghost fanfic #ghostober #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction

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ashdreams2023 · 6 months

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Hiya would you be able to write a one shot Loki x reader with chronic pain (POTS and EDS specifically) for me I struggle with knee pain, cramping, and my hands have become very weak over the years xx and I struggle with fainting, dizziness and migraines (I know this is a lot) ….and if it could be fluffy and spicy that’d be amazing xx

Of course sweetheart!

Summary: loki takes care of you on a rough day (slightly heated at the end)

Silly questions

You sighed in relief, finally being able to sit after that conference, plus it was cold as hell, your joints are killing you.

Everyone had left after the conference to finish personal errands before night time, leaving you alone in the compound.

"How are you feeling?"

Oh and Loki of course.

"I’m alright" you smiled "cuddle with me?"

"Food first, you haven’t eaten yet"

You pouted but got up and followed him to the kitchen, there was already some leftovers from breakfast and you didn’t feel picky that day so you just hoped the pancakes were not soggy yet.

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the dining table and helped yourself "I need Bruce type of patience to survive these conferences" you mumble.

"Believe me even banner can’t stand them….can do that yourself?" He gestured to your hands, they were shaking slightly while holding your knife and fork.

"Oh yes, it’s nothing major, I can manage" And as on cue your winced in pain when you lifted your hand, this wasn’t the worst you’ve experienced but that didn’t make any less painful.

"Ok that’s it, drop the utensils" he stop up and walked across the table and sat beside you.

You tried to protest but ended up hurting yourself more by the sudden movements….maybe he was right. Your arms warped around your middle as you tried to catch your breath and not pass out.

Loki put his hand on your back, he muttered a few words you couldn’t understand, it was probably yet another dead language.

But to your surprise the more his hand stayed there, warmth spread through your body, it defeated the cold you had been feeling all morning.

"Here let me" He picked up your spoon and held it to you mouth "Now eat or do I have to do it baby bird style?" You rolled your eyes through the pain but accepted his help.

Most days than not you’ll feel embarrassed if this had happened in front of people, you didn’t like people to treat you like you’re made of glass, even if it was in a way partly true.

"I’m putting heating charm on your bed and you will take the medicine the doctor has prescribed for you"

"….but I hate taking it, it’s-"

"It’s either you take them willingly or I will magic them up in your stomach, your choice" Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, you hated take medicine but you hated the after feeling of that specific spell.

"Fine…." He fed you until you couldn’t eat anymore then took the plates.

You pushed yourself up and got off the chair but unfortunately a case of dizziness attacked you immediately and before you knew there was only the sound of your body hitting the ground and Loki’s quick feet running towards you.

It was a bit blurry but you could make out Loki splashing water at your face and carrying you to the bedroom where he eventually laid you on your bed and as promised he puts a charm on your bed "will you stay with me?" You asked.

He puts his hand on your head and plants a kiss on each of your cheeks "Don’t ask silly questions" his tone sounded concerned.

Your heart fluttered and the pain was not there for a minute, he laid with you in bed, his body felt unusually warm, he always did this, made himself uncomfortable for your sake, went up and beyond his nature for you to feel alright.

"Are you ok? This isn’t hurting you?" You asked.

He sighed and warped his arms tighter around you "I told you to stop asking silly questions, I’m fine as long as you are"

You wanted to cry, you knew he was also hurting by making his body this warm but Loki was stubborn and no matter how much you begged him to stop he wouldn’t budge.

"Loki" you whined gripping onto his top.

He chuckles lightly and starts kissing your face all over, his hand rubs your sighs, tugging teasingly on the hem of your sweatpants then sliding his hand underneath and grabbing your bottom.

You can feel him hard against your body, it made your face burn.

"Look at you all warmed up, so beautifully desperate"

"Shut up" you hid your face away.

He covered your head with his arm and brought it to his chest, you could his heart, it was racing, the heat wasn’t good for his heart.

"But seeing you hurting is worse so stop thinking out loud and let me heal you"

You bit down on your lip and held onto him, there was yet a silly question in your mind but you had to remember that Loki didn’t like silly questions for the answer is always right there.

#imagine #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki imagine #fanfic #mcu loki #loki/y/n #headcanon #loki layfeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki laufeyson x male reader #loki layfeyson x you #loki friggason

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silvercap · 1 month

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ensnared and strangle perhaps? for the prompt game? pretty please :)

For sure! (For this prompt list)

Ensnared/Strangle

"Leon S. Kennedy," the smooth voice drawls, accentuating every syllable. A shiver runs down Leon's spine as he tugs uselessly at the strange, fleshy vines twining around his wrists and ankles, arms strung above his head and legs forced to spread by the tendrils stretching his limbs as far as his creaking joints will allow. He grits his teeth, thrashing--only to freeze as a dark-clothed figure steps with contained grace out from behind a pillar, orange eyes gleaming in the shadows. Around him, ouroborous tendrils cling to the floor and walls, a grotesque web forming around the spidery man that refuses to die.

"Albert Wesker," Leon mocks, doing his best to mimic the man's controlled tone as the vines begin to wrap more securely up and down his arms and legs, slithering over his clothes until he can barely see through the seething mass. "Mind letting me out of here? I feel like it's a little unfair to fight an enemy who can't move."

Wesker sneers, laughing darkly. "What is the nature of man, if not unfair? Nature itself subsists upon a delicate balance, the process of selection her inherent injustice, bound to--"

"What kind of thesaurus do you use?" Leon asks innocently. "I'd love to borrow it the next time I have to write a report. Or did you just memorize that passage from Shakespeare?"

Wesker slithers out from the shadows, black tendrils writhing in his wake. In the light, his face is a patchwork of twisted scar tissue intercut with patches of rotting, mutated skin the color of coal. Glowing irises stain his sclera an unnatural, bloodshot orange, thin hair slicked back to reveal a high, severe forehead. He sighs.

"Impertinent."

In an instant, the tension around Leon's limbs disappear, his body slamming into the pavement before he can even register what's happening. Dazed, he can only choke on the lack of hair, clawing at the warm, leather-gloved hand squeezing tightly around his throat. Above him, Wesker looms with a snarl, knee planted solidly in Leon's solar plexus.

"You will regret it."

Leon gags, vision blurring. Wesker's strength is superhuman, fingers like iron as something in Leon's throat begins to tighten. His hands scrabble for purchase on thick snakeskin leather, the ouroborous virus beneath Wesker's skin visibly writhing and forcing his skin out of shape. Leon kicks uselessly, head throbbing. God, why does this always happen to him?

The sudden sound of gunfire barely registers over the rush of blood in his ears, a growl echoing strangely as Wesker ducks back. Leon chokes. Shudders. He's on the very verge of unconsciousness when air returns in a rush, ragged coughs stuttering in his throat as he struggles to suck in a pained inhale. An instant later, he finds himself being dragged upright, Wesker's hand fisting in his hair as dark vines wrap him like a fly in a cocoon. Leon's breath catches harshly, senses wavering. He feels like he can't breathe right--something is probably broken.

"Chris," Wesker hisses, bitter hatred and utter disdain audible in his tone. "So nice of you to join us."

#whump #ask game #my fics #drabbles #<33333

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randominji · 3 months

Text

𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝟐: 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐄

: please read the previous chapters before this one if you have yet to have done so!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: None... (maybe spelling mistakes)

You awake, a dull pain underlying the numbness of your bolt locked joints, and the comforting stench of the breezy nature fills your nose. Even before opening your eyes, you already know you're not home. The air around you is free roaming, curling up against you with careless sways of their grown drunken ways.

Groggily, you open your eyes. Your vision is heavily sleep-blurred and misleading, like the shapes of many shades dancing across your vision, colours of both dark and deep play the part perfectly, like the missing picture to the jigsaw base. Bringing your hands up, you gradually rub away that drowsy state of mind and vision with an intense itch at the back of your throat. You let out a tremendous yawn, jaw dropping to the hilt as a gust of warm air escapes past your lips, brushing and caressing the sensitive skin as it does so, tingling your stiffened spine ever so slightly before buckling back up again.

Eventually, the sleep dazed feeling washes back a tide, and the infrastructure of a wooden ceiling greets you with a glare, supporting beams almost cursing at you in the moment. You blink before sitting up. Upon the rise of your body comes the drape of a thin fabric. It was strung from your left shoulder as it stretched beyond your feet, the soft cotton texture of it makes your skin itch slightly, a faint restraint to your relaxation.

You mumble something to yourself as you drag your body to the edge of the large bed, letting your legs plant themselves into the planked flooring below.

Your eyes skim over the exposed vines that reap along the walls and swaddle around the span of the bed frame. How parts of a tree protrude through the walls and twirl around each other. The room you're in is a mess of nature's child. Though, no real identification of life had yet to have been found present.

Dragging the rest of your body off the mattress, you wobble a tad, finding a lack of balance within your knees as you stabilise yourself on a set of drawers. It takes a moment before you find your balance once again, just spending a moment composing yourself when a jiggling sound captures your attention.

Hesitantly, you look up and direct your attention to the sound- your eyes greeting a door as it dauntinly pushes open.

You weren't quite sure what you expected to see, a demon perhaps, maybe even a goblin given the strangeness of your situation, but to see a girl that looked not too different from yourself wasn’t it. Her hair was a silk kissed blend of blonde streaks, soft bangs hanging delicately just over her darker eyebrows. Her face and body were that of clear, pale skin that seemed to shine so delicately under the only source of light. The moon’s faint beams descend through the space behind her- exposed by the open door- and it only makes her look more… ethereal. You didn’t want to be seen as creepy, afterall, you would’ve been punished for doing so at home, but she truly was something out of an old tale your parents used to tell you about. Though, despite your clear interest in the girl's physical appearance, there was something else beyond the small of her nose and the white scraps of her clothing. There was something set dead within the depths of her dark eyes, an uncertain annoyance? Hatred? Fear?

“And where do you think you’re going?”

You quickly straighten yourself, pulling away from the drawers as you pull on the bottom of your shirt slightly, feeling almost intimidated by the deeper of her voice. “Home? I mean, i’m not supposed to be here anyway-”

“No… no, you’re not supposed to be here, and yet you are. Why?” She remains almost statue-like, standing still, arms by her sides as she just stares… and stares… and stares.

“I’m looking for someone” She scoffs, eyes rolling drastically at your words. “What?”

The girl blinks, her face going stale again,”if you’re looking for someone, there’s a good chance they’re gone. Shouldn’t you know that already?”

“Shouldn’t I know that?” You furrow your eyebrows together- forming somewhat of a line “I do know that, yes. But he won’t be dead yet!”

“How can you be so sure?” You could feel a certain heat bubble within you, a feeling of irritation with how she’s remaining so calm and rude at the same time. She was almost cocky with her words, like she’s better than you, like you’re nothing compared to her.

“I can feel it. He’s smart. He’ll be alright… So if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find him.” You had begun to move towards her, taking no notice of the way her eyes narrow slightly as you approach. Though, you had noticed the sudden grasp upon your sleeved arm when you had gone to squeeze past the blonde girl.

“Your friend can wait. I mean, if you're so sure he’ll be alright, then you should trust that thought” She turns her head to look at you, eyes almost burning through yours. “Stay here”

“Stay… here?” You shake your head, tugging your arm away from her grasp, letting the loose fabric of your shirt uncrumple itself. “Why the heck would I do that? You clearly don’t want me here. We both have better things to do”

“You're right, I don’t want you here, but unfortunately for the both of us, I have no say in the matter. If you want to see him again, you will be staying”

“Is that a threat?” You half mumble, looking outside the door, eyes trying to catch a glimpse of something- anything. However, it grows apparent that there is no clear escape, especially since beyond the door appears to just be a balcony of some sort.

“I’m not the threat here”

Slowly, your eyes draw back to the girl, confusion evident within your voice as you open your mouth to speak again “...what do you mean?”

She averts her gaze, eyes searching beyond the door before she steps back outside, residing to her new position by the railing that consists mostly of wooden beams, held together by worn rope and some type of rusted screws. “You’re safe for the moment, but they’ll be back” she states as you step outside of the hut- only now noticing how it was more of a treehouse than a single room.

You join her, looking over the edge of your elevated stance, your sight connecting to the lowly lit ground beneath. A few lanterns light the area around, mostly outlining the base of trees and more noticeably any hazardous items left around- like larger rocks or areas of randomly grown flowers. The placements of these lanterns made it easy to identify the layout of the area- as you’d suspect was their purpose. “For the moment?”

“God, do you always ask so many questions?” She glares at you momentarily.

“I think I have a right to ask questions, especially as you kidnapped me” You glare back, mind wandering to the questioning if that’s why your knees hurt so much. Maybe they had done something to your knees while getting you to such a high place, even more so since the only way up here- from what you can see- is a ladder not too far away.

“It’s not kidnapping if we’re saving you from certain death”

“As if” you sigh, letting your arms rest on the small railing separating you from a twenty foot fall. “And even if that was true, what would cause me such harm? My parents have only ever warned me of getting lost and a few obviously fake monsters. You make it sound like there’s a murderer out here”

“Fake monsters?” She furrows her brows, looking at you curiously,”what fake monsters?”

“Oh… you know, giant wolves, flesh hungry bats, acid spitting worms… that kind of stuff” you nod, looking to the sky. A half moon.

The girl lets out a small sigh of air, one of her hands moving to pinch the bridge of her nose. “You humans are certainly dim-witted. And no, there are none of those here, but there are other things that prevent certain life forms from entering this place”

You drag your eyes away from the star-lit sky as you look back at her “For instance…?”

The girl could only stare at you. Not a single muscle in her body comes close to even being tempted to share what she meant. Her eyes remain stoic, and her posture tall. The moment had somehow grown creepier as you remained awaiting a response from the stranger.

“Minji?” A new voice breaks the thickly grown atmosphere, soft and quiet, making it quite the opposite from who can now identify as Minji's rather assertive one.

“Haerin?” Minji responds quickly as the newer girl shuffles to the side a bit and, in turn, allows you both to gain sights on one another. She’s arguably smaller than Minji and had a more feline-like look to her. Though, what made her stand out was the tranquil look on her face. She didn’t look annoyed or irritated by your existence, but more so welcoming in an odd way. “What are you doing up?”

Haerin balances the lantern she's carrying upon the railing, allowing it to light up the space around you more, and in addition to that, it enchanted her face with warm hues “I couldn’t sleep” Haerin glances between you and Minji before continuing to fill the silence once again,"The human is awake?”

“Human-”

“Annoyingly so” Minji cuts you off, not even sparing you a glance. In retrospect to the girl’s actions, you clench your jaw “She’s giving me quite a headache”

“I offered to have her rest in my room” Haerin smiles, showing off her cat-like grin, her eyes creasing slightly as her pale cheeks raise. She was definitely a contrast to the taller girl in front of you.

“And I said no, it’s best to have the human stay with me”

“I have a name” You’re tempted to cross your arms, a huff having to expand within your throat to prevent it from leaving your lips. You don’t don’t want to come off as rude anyway, especially since these people clearly aren’t humans.

Despite your small surge of confidence, you almost cower into a ball of twisted joints when they both look at you, each with different inquiries and reasons. While Haerin looked at you, her head tilted slightly to her left and eyes reflecting the light of her lantern, Minji had glared at you with a small scowl, and what made it worse was that the lantern was placed at an angle that didn’t reach her face when stood like this, causing her to look menacing. “What?” Minji begins, “What is your name then?”

“Y/n” You smile slightly, ignoring the way Minji’s nose scrunches up at your answer as you focus your attention on the cat-like girl instead. Haerin looked somewhat relieved that she had a name to call you by now- calling you ‘human’ felt oddly disrespectful to her.

“I’m Haerin” she smiles lightly at you “And I doubt Minji would be willing to share her name with you herself”

“Strangely, I doubt so too” you mirror her smile with a small laugh.

Minji rolls her eyes for the second time this hour as she turns back to Haerin,”I’m the oldest, and therefore the most responsible over us. What if the human was to lash out? You know humans aren't to be trusted” of course she’d ignore your name…

“Yeah, but I don’t think y/n would do that. And even if she did, it’s five against one” You almost catch yourself gulping at the revelation of the unknown statistics. If there were two girls here, then surely there would be other people here too "what are you doing out here anyway?”

“The human was acting up,” Minji complains.

“Nuh-uh, that’s it. I am my own organism with my own life, my own rights, my own freedom and name. If you think you can restrict me from those, i’m leaving” You scoff, turning to leave in the direction of the ladder of which you had seen earlier. Although, a familiar grasp on your arm prevents you from moving much further than a step or two away. “What the heck?” You turn back around to see Minji, her arm outstretched as she grasps onto your sleeve once again.

“My hut. Now.”

You barely get a chance to respond before you're thrown back into Minji’s “hut” with a forceful budge. Stumbling forward, any opportunities of being able to say goodnight to Haerin were thrown out of the window, even more so when Minji closes the door behind her, her expression flat with furry.

“Look” Minji huffs,”I’ve told you that I don’t want you here anymore than you want to be here, okay? But you being here, is down to the others”

“Who? What others?” You frown slightly, rubbing your reddening arm soothingly, her grip was a bit harsh…

“There are five of us here. You’ve already met me and Haerin. Fortunately for you, when we all met back up after doing our individual rounds, the others were already surrounding your unconscious body. They basically forced me to help you”

“And you said you wanted to take care of me?”

Minji's face morphs slightly, her eyes slightly widening and nostrils flaring,”want and being the most able is a huge difference. I did this for the sake of everyone else. Who knows how much trouble a human could cause? They could lose sleep because of you, or even go insane-”

“Do you really doubt me that much?” You almost spit out, feeling half offended with the repetitive diss against your kind. Humans aren’t all that bad. You wouldn’t say your family are bad… though, not much else can be said for everyone else you've met.

“I’m coming from a place of concern over my friends. They’re what matter to me, not some lost puppy like yourself”

You take your turn to roll your eyes as you lay back down on the stiff of her bed, letting out a heavy sigh as a light dosage of tension flees from your body. You felt the most at peace in that moment than you had done all day. “I hate it here…”

Minji’s ears had almost perked upon the small of your mumblings, her eyes drifting away from you as she moves around her room. “I hate having you here”

All you could do was listen as the girl shifted around her room, your eyes closed and hearing heightened by the noise she created. You weren’t quite sure how much time had passed before the light fall of fabric fell upon your skin. Your hands move to hold the item.. Or rather items. Half confused, you open your eyes and hold the things up. “What are these?” You ask, looking at the span of it all.

“Clothes”

You stop yourself from cursing her out at such a bland response as you finally get a grip on the top half of what you believe to be a sweater. You weren’t quite sure how to react in all honesty. First of all, they had clothes other than the strange white- almost cultist- outfits? And secondly, was Minji really handing you one of her sweatshirts? “Why?”

“The others would curse me out if I don’t take some level of care over you” Of course, this was for the others and not actually for your sake. “I’m going out to do something, stay here, and don’t snoop in my stuff. You’d be surprised at how well i can identify moved objects”

“What if I get bored?”

Minji opens the door once again, only turning to close it after her, a faint “Not my problem” being muffled by the blockage between you and her. Seconds later, you see her figure walk past a window.

You’ve been left alone. In a stranger's house. With nothing to do… so the question is, what now?

New page unlocked!

: Minji and Haerin!

Additional:

: next chapter is a reader voted chapter. This vote will begin on Monday and will last a week. Therefore meaning the next chapter won't be out for 2 weeks. Sorry for any inconvenience.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: [𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍] [NEW]

@wintersgff @hyein-hyeout

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whatwouldsylwrite · 1 year

Text

hockey!Abby x dancer!reader pt7.75

The morning after.

Tags: modern au, fluff, fem!reader, shy reader, reader is into sexy/girly dances, Abby is a sweetheart, switching pov.

Notes: kissing, non-sexual sex talk, mention of hickeys, kinda suggestive language (they joke). They're just cosy and sappy and in love.

You were the first to wake up today: the sun decided to be annoying and continued to shine in your face until you couldn't ignore it anymore. You frowned and opened your eyes, not pleased with the idea of waking up. Abby was still asleep, but even unconscious she had an iron grip on you, holding you close to her by your waist. She had her nose buried in the crook of your neck, breathing deeply - you didn't know how she wasn't suffocating like this, her face planted in your hair. You smiled like a lovesick idiot and mentally kicked your legs in excitement - it was such a nice way to wake up.

You nestled back in her arms, pressing your butt to her lower stomach to feel Abby against your body fully, to enjoy her warmth and slow breathing. Abby made a small noise and suddenly the grip on your tightened as she moved you closer to her. Your heart skipped a beat, but Abby didn't wake up. That was too cute, how she clang to you even in her sleep. You wanted to nap a little just to bask in her warmth, she made you feel so safe, like nothing bad could get you while you were in her arms, so you genuinely tried to fall asleep, but the sun didn't leave you alone. You were becoming restless, and you didn't want to bother Abby with your moving, so you decided to get up, even though you really didn't want to.

You sighed and gently untangled Abby's hands from yourself, feeling too sad for it to be healthy. Abby didn't notice and you were relieved - you really wanted her to have enough sleep after everything. Memories of Abby’s touch and care flooded back and you blushed, giggling silently as you sat on the bed.

"Ouch." You whispered, feeling the ache between your legs and on your thighs, a triangle of sweet pain.

You looked down and gasped when you saw your thighs: they were littered in hickeys, purple and red marks everywhere. You spread your thighs wider to get a better look and your shock grew: Abby really loved your thighs yesterday. You noticed two bruises closer to your crotch, oddly symmetrical and oddly big - they were not hickeys. How did you get them? Abby wasn’t rough with you, she didn’t hurt-

Oh. Those bruises were here because her hip bones were hitting you hard when she fucked you. Oh. You blushed even deeper, scrunching your nose in good-natured embarrassment - you liked it. And now you had a constant reminder of Abby, because the ache didn’t just go away, no, it was burning in the back of your head at all times.

You stood up from your bed and suppressed a groan - you were so sore as if you did one of Abby’s workouts, every muscle aching.

"Fuck." You whispered when you took your shorts and a top, having to reach for them. "Oh fuck."

You slowly walked to the bathroom, letting your body remember how to use its own muscles to move around. You felt like Tin Woodman before his joints were oiled, all slow and rusty, but when you stood in front of your bathroom mirror, you felt pretty okay already. You put your clothes on the hook rack before finally looking at yourself in the mirror.

Fucking hell Abby, you thought fondly as you ran your fingers down your throat. You thought your thighs had too many marks? Well, your neck looked like it had a choker around with all the hickeys Abby left on you. The left side of your neck was covered fully, your collarbones had a few of them, as well as the top of your chest. It was downright ridiculous how many marks you had, but you revelled in it - you got shy and excited as you brushed all of them with your fingertips. It felt so good to be wanted like that, to see Abby's love on your body, knowing you were hers. It was so amazing to trust someone so completely and get so much back.

You giggled again and went through your morning routine in a little daze. After you showered and washed your face, you put some lotion on to help with soreness, as well as some ointment from bruises on your neck - you really loved them, but you couldn’t go outside like this.

You went back to the bedroom quietly and then you just froze in wonder when you looked at Abby. She was still asleep, lying on her stomach while she hugged your pillow, looking so peaceful and so beautiful. The sun was hitting her face, making her freckles on her cheeks and shoulders stand out more, her face was relaxed and her hair was totally messed up, blonde locks everywhere around her. She looked magical, like a disney princess (for some reason you thought of Elle Fanning as Aurora), and your heart ached from the love and affection you felt for Abby.

You quickly grabbed your phone and took a picture of her, not letting this memory live only in your head - you needed to see this every damn day for the rest of your life. You took a few, not satisfied with an angle; you felt like the camera couldn’t really capture the sheer beauty of your favourite human, but after the fourth try you finally managed to get something close to what you were seeing. You immediately changed your lock screen and smiled at your phone like an idiot. You wanted to kiss her so badly, leave all small kisses on her face and hear her giggles, but you stopped yourself, not daring waking Abby up. You took your laptop with you to the kitchen and started making breakfast while the music played quietly, keeping you company.

Abby woke up alone, but she didn’t have time to get upset about it - she heard the faint music from the kitchen, something upbeat she knew you were probably dancing to. Then she smelled the food and her smile grew bigger, even though she still didn't open her eyes. You were making breakfast, so cosy and domestic Abby wanted to wife you up right away, so she could wake up like this every morning. Abby buried her nose in your pillow, basking in your scent, so warm and familiar. She didn't want to get up, too lazy already, but the desire to see you and check up on you got the best of her. Abby knew she kinda… lost her head yesterday, and even though it was the best night of her life, she still needed to make sure you were happy about it.

Abby rolled her shoulders, getting the joints to move and stop aching, and she surprisingly felt that her skin was tender, as if the sun almost burned her. She sat on the bed and stretched as she looked for her backpack, where she packed her toothbrush and spare clothes. Abby also noticed the strap lying on the floor by her side of the bed and she slapped her forehead. She was so focused on you yesterday she totally forgot to wash it, fuck. That was embarrassing, she wasn't a teen anymore to put the cleaning off for the night. Well, shit happens sometimes, Abby thought philosophically, still scolding herself for such irresponsible behaviour.

She took her backpack and the poor strap with her to the bathroom and got to work. Her shoulders were still tender and she had a look at them in the mirror, grinning immediately - there were faint scratches from your short nails. Previously annoying ache became delicious and made Abby feel high on pride - it was the evidence of how good she made you feel yesterday, and she couldn't stop grinning.

Abby changed into her usual soft shorts and a sleeveless hoodie that was twice as soft - as if she had some kind of primal instinct to make you feel safe, so she picked everything soft just so you could relax in her arms. Abby didn't really understand why she had this need to keep you as safe as possible, but it was impossible to ignore.

Abby left the bathroom and quietly went to the kitchen, not wanting to be noticed - she just wanted to watch you being all housewife-y, doing silly dances. When Abby came closer she heard that you were singing and she smiled - it was too cute. You tried to match the pitch, but sometimes your voice would break and it was even cuter.

♪You think I'm cutest in the morning♪ You murmured under your nose and Abby just needed to come closer. ♪And you don't judge me when I'm all dressed up♪ Abby chuckled and wrapped her arms around your waist. You jumped, but then relaxed and turned around in Abby's arms to face her. You started swaying your hips, making you both slow dance and Abby smiled at you, too happy for it to be real.

"Morning." Abby murmured in your mouth and kissed you, as the song continued playing. You smiled in the kiss and wrapped your hands around Abby's neck, rocking you both. The chorus was coming in, and you looked at Abby with the sappiest smile you had.

♪So what if I let it slip, tell you that you're the only one I'm seeing?♪ You sang quietly, barely keeping your giggles at bay, and Abby's eyes softened.

♪What if I lose my grip, admit that I'm terrified of you leaving?♪ Abby rubbed her nose against yours, grinning, but it didn't stop you from singing the song to her.

♪Would it push you away or would you say the same back?♪

♪What if I let it slip, tell you that, oh my God, I fucking love you♪ Your eyes were sparkling with excitement and love, your cheeks adorably red as you watched Abby's reaction.

Abby's breath hitched as you murmured the last line in her mouth - she knew it was too early, she knew it was just song lyrics, but god she wanted you to mean it. Abby swallowed and looked at you, her heart beating like a rabbit's heart. You looked back, shy, and Abby kissed you again, deeper and rougher, as if she was desperate. She pressed you closer and you melted, letting her hold you all she wanted. Abby caressed your back, sending shivers down your spine and you sighed into her mouth, while the song was getting closer to an end.

"I love you." Abby blurted, surprising you and herself. Fuck, she thought, panicking. "You don't need to say it back." She quickly recovered, but you felt how her hands were shaking on your waist.

You got on your tiptoes and held Abby's face in your hands.

"I love you too." You said quietly and caressed her pink cheekbones.

Your words knocked the air out of her lungs and she blushed, honest to God blushed, her eyes big like saucers. Your smile grew wider and you pressed another kiss to Abby's cheek.

"I guess I found a way to make you blush." You quickly kissed her, admiring her confused face. "What, did you think I wouldn't say it back?"

"I dunno." Abby giggled, shy.

"I love you." You said again and Abby got red in the face, and you laughed fondly. "Prepare to hear it a lot now."

"Gladly." Abby kissed your forehead, revelling in the quiet moment as you rocked together until the song changed. "Do you need help?"

"Nah. Just sit and be pretty." You winked and Abby stopped functioning. As if you knowing you could make her blush unlocked a flirt in you, and Abby wasn't prepared for it.

Abby sat at the table and looked you over, noticing all the marks she left on you the previous night. She wanted to feel bad about it, but the possessiveness was much stronger in her. She really didn't leave a free space on your neck, huh?

Abby's hands itched again, but she held herself back - she didn't want to overwhelm you right away with how hungry she was for you.

"How are you feeling?" Abby asked carefully, a little worried she pushed you past your limits yesterday.

"Sore as fuck." You admitted while you poured tea. "But I like it."

Abby felt proud all of a sudden, her shoulders rolling back. You liked it. She made you feel good. You weren't upset.

"I lost my self-control a little." Abby said bashfully. You laughed quietly.

"It was hot." You shrugged and Abby lost her ability to speak for a moment, not ready for your honesty, given how shy you were before.

You put food on the table and sat down, scrunching your nose in slight pain as your bottom met the chair.

"You okay?"

"Just a few bruises." You shrugged. "I like it." You reassured Abby when you noticed a pang of guilt in her eyes. "But um. I don't think I could handle a road trip today. What if we just stay in and finish the movie?"

"I like your plan."

You finished your breakfast and you watched Abby's hair obsessively. You liked when she wore it down, but she didn't really like it, always tying it so it wouldn't go in her face. You wanted to braid her hair so bad your fingers itched, so you took a brush and a few elastic bands to the living room.

"Can I braid your hair?" You asked Abby after she put her hair behind her ears for a millionth time. Abby took a second to comprehend your words and then she moved closer to you.

"How do you want me?" She had no business sounding so suggestive and making you blush again, and judging by her little chuckle she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Between my legs." You barely kept a straight face while you said it, pointing to the floor. Abby looked playfully offended, and you laughed, not able to keep it together anymore. "What?"

"I feel like something unlocked in you." Abby admitted and sat on the floor between your legs. "I like it."

You laughed, your cheeks hot, and you started brushing Abby's hair. It was thick and heavy in your hands, but you went slow, way too careful not to hurt or tug Abby's hair. She relaxed and leaned back, her shoulders pressing to your inner thighs while she caressed your calves absentmindedly.

"I'm falling asleep." Abby murmured as you ran your fingers through her hair, smoothing it.

"Wait a little, okay?" You asked, cooing at her little pouty huff. "Do you like your braids tight or loose?"

"Tight. Loose braids are the most fucking annoying thing in the world." Abby placed a kiss on your knee and you giggled.

You parted Abby's hair in two parts and started working on her braids, tugging just enough for it to be not loose, but not as tight - you didn't want Abby's head to hurt after. Abby was quiet and she just let you do whatever you wanted, her breathing steady. You finished the first braid and leaned to the side, grabbing the remote and giving it to Abby.

"I'm almost done. Can you find the movie while I'm doing the second one?"

"Yeah." Abby said quietly and concentrated on her task while you braided the second braid.

"Do you want buns?"

"What?"

"Like-" You wrapped one of the braids around itself. "This?"

"Don't really like pins in my hair."

"I can fix them with a scrunchie."

Abby shrugged and you left her braids alone, not sure if Abby'd enjoy buns. Plus, if you think about it, it was not really comfortable to lie on the buns.

"I'm done."

Abby ran her hands over her head, feeling the thick braids you made, and you waited for her reaction, excited. Abby took her phone and switched on the front camera to see what it was like and then she moved her camera up. You were confused at first, but it dawned on you pretty fast and you leaned down, smiling, so Abby could take a photo.

"You're so fucking cute." Abby said and climbed up on top of you, kissing your cheeks.

You giggled and hugged her, tugging her closer. You both took a minute to get comfortable, but you ended up being a little spoon while Abby lay behind you, keeping you close, your head on her arm, her chin on top of your head. It was so comfortable and safe you couldn't help but wiggle happily while Abby chuckled.

You finished watching a movie, laughing your asses off so hard you almost fell from the couch, thank god Abby was holding you. Abby eyed your neck and she couldn't help but to place a kiss on one of her hickeys. Your breath hitched, but Abby didn't do anything else and you relaxed.

"I'm sleepy." Abby mumbled behind you. You chuckled and caressed her hand on your stomach.

"Afternoon nap?" You asked gently.

"Yeah."

"The bed is more comfortable. Let's go."

Abby made a whiny sound when you stood up and you pinched her cheek affectionately. Abby looked at you with sad puppy eyes but you only reached your hand to her, waiting for her to stand up.

Abby sighed and stood up, following you to the bedroom, where you both took the same position you fell asleep in yesterday: you on your back with Abby between your legs, her head on you tits. You gasped when Abby pressed on your bruises, enjoying it, but Abby got worried.

"You sure you're okay? Did I cross a line yesterday?"

"Abby." You said, mockingly strict. "I'm enjoying it. It reminds me of you." You hesitated before asking what was on your mind. "Do you like being rough? I feel like you held yourself back a lot yesterday."

Abby didn't answer right away, but you waited, caressing Abby's shoulders. You liked feeling her warmth and weight on you, even though it was hard to breathe sometimes.

"I uh- I don't like hurting people. And I don't want to hurt you. But I don't want to stop making you cum, and then I get carried away and get more aggressive."

"I think- I think we can figure something out, you know?" You said and Abby looked up, her eyes meeting yours.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want you to hold back and worry afterwards. We can try um. Safewords? Like. You'll have a clear indicator that this is my line. Or like. Okay, don't ask me why I know this, but. A traffic light system?" You felt shy talking about it, but well. If you can't talk about sex you shouldn't have it - you both needed to communicate your needs, otherwise you both would be upset in the end.

"Yeah, I know about it." Abby nodded, considering. "I think it's a great idea."

"You haven't tried it before?" You asked, curious. Abby was definitely intense in bed, did she always have to hold back before?

"Not really." Abby shrugged, just a little uncomfortable with the topic - it was embarrassing to admit she didn't have experience in something. "What about you?"

"No. I just know about it, and I thought it could be useful."

Abby nodded, agreeing with you. This conversation made her feel cared for and free, like something that was bothering her got resolved and she felt relieved. Abby kissed your shoulder and you giggled, kissing the top of her head.

"Love you." You whispered and Abby wiggled in your arms, getting shy.

"You're a menace." Abby murmured, her voice sleepy as she started to drift off.

"But you love me."

"I do."

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #hockey!abby

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princess-of-thebes-1995 · 8 months

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I am sick today with joint pain and I got an ask that lifted my mood. Thank you! I hope you enjoy this drabble.

I think I have pcos. It makes sense. I will ask my doctor when the appointment day comes.

Anyway enjoy reader chans

After the Colonel made you move in with him you noticed how messy his room was. You were an immaculate and a clean freak. You didn't have OCD luckily. (I don't want to offend anyone who has OCD. I know it is a mental illness and liking clean stuff doesn't mean you have OCD) but you couldn't stand ugliness. Especially stains. Not a hair out of place.

Zdog was kind to lift your heavy boxes to Quaritch room

You began to clean and it took three hours. The place cleaned much better and everything looked so brand new as if no one ever lived in the room.

You were ironing his shirts when your new lover walked in. He was surprised by the drastic change.

He felt guilty that you spent energy and time cleaning up after him. But he smiled. You were such a cute housewife. He loved your clean qualities. It made his heart flutter. What a good mother you will be to his future kids.

Quaritch would hold your hand especially in public to show you off in public you belong to him

And he would always make you sit on his lap in the cafeteria. You tried to leave but he would get mad and scare you to stay.

And of course his hands was always on your beautiful shaped ass.

You never dated but you knew this was not a healthy relationship.

But there were perks ...

Your friends got money for their program and science equipment and the Colonel would take you to field trips outside the fence to get rare plants

And the Colonel would brush your hair. Mostly after a shower but also before bed and random times. As if he loved it. Maybe he did. He was always stroking and smelling your long high quality and natural hair.

And he would wash you himself. The others don't have bath to conserve water. Only showers. The Colonel would give you baths on his days off. It was humiliating. You couldn't look at him and you were blushing. You covered your breasts and let him clean you.

So far, The Colonel never forced himself on you. You heard him masturbating very often when he came from work. But then he must be waiting to take you when you want to touch him or the wedding night.

And the Colonel ordered you to always wear the engagement ring he gave you

The soldiers saw it and congratulated the man.

Your friends looked at you with pity

But he had a sweet side.

He would treat you like a baby when you were on your menses or sick.

He would touch your forehead for your temperature and then massage your aching feet

He would even suck them! You found it strange.

But you hated how he would make you sit and watch him at the gym. Like he was trying to impress you. He would punch the punching bag, lift weights and more to maybe scare you to not leave him.

Best of all, Quaritch would protect you from Selfridge. The head boss used to yell at you in public and throw a tantrum before you met Quaritch. And it was humiliating. Selfridge obviously still hated you but would stay quiet. Quaritch must have talked to him.

The Colonel on the other hand was trying to butter you up. He looked up romantic ways to get your attention. Strange how he loved a woman so different than him. Opposites attract. Sometimes he felt like a scientist. He was curious about you and wanted to know you. He was always ogling at you.

Especially when you were sleeping. He didn't force himself on you. He didn't want you to hate him but his patience was slipping. He would masturbate hard but it was not enough. He doesn't know how long he will have to wait. You're driving him crazy.

He makes you dress him in his Marine uniform and iron his clothes and patch them up if necessary. Like a wife. Then he would kiss you and leave for work.

But one day deep in the forest, you did a mistake that changed everything..

#yandere miles quaritch x reader #dark miles quaritch #yandere miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch #avatar #avatar 2009

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aspiringwarriorlibrarian · 2 months

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Honestly it’s a shame that John messed with the gravity of the Houses cause can you imagine the characters if they had the realistic biology of 10,000 years on their respective planets.

The fact that Harrow needs skeletons to sit up in bed makes perfect sense. She’s the scion of thousands of years of living on a rock too small for planethood, I’d be surprised she could handle Earth gravity at all. Gideon, on the other hand, is both very clearly not Ninth (the working theory is either Second or Seventh), and a fucking freak of nature for being able to get ripped in the environment she’s in. When Jeannemary asks her how she gets her biceps so big, it’s not “tell me your workout”, it’s “how the hell do you have visible biceps?”. Old people probably retire to the Ninth to be without joint pain.

Palamedes and Camilla are on the smallest planet, no wonder Sixth cavaliers have such a terrible reputation. Camilla probably trained in a centrifugal gravity room so she could handle fighting on a decent sized planet.

Seventh settled on Venus so they could handle Earth plant life and climbing roses. It’s the perfect amount of gravity for being frail enough to be willowy but not so frail you just die immediately from any sickness.

Second is on Mars because it’s the closest to Earth gravity and everyone else in the universe settled on Earth size planets. They train for higher gravity but they’re used to Earth or near Earth because that’s where they’ll be fighting.

Now we get to the gas giants and things get fun. Magnus and Abigail are from Jupiter, very short but very dense. Abigail could pop someone’s head off with her bicep in Earth gravity . Fourth is probably just as dense, hence why they’re the vanguard: you’d need specialized rifles to just to get through their bones. They probably weigh a lot too, Gideon picks up Jeannemary and actually struggles for the first time in her life.

Eighth is on Uranus. Moving on.

Corona and Ianthe are odd in different ways. Corona because she’s tall, which is a feat in higher gravity, Ianthe because she’s frail. Corona’s genetic lottery really bailed her out on appearing necromantic, while Ianthe probably has to pad her joints a lot as they wear down.

I don’t mind that the people of the Nine Houses have been magically frozen on pseudo Earths, it fits the theme after all, but thinking about the alternative is hilarious.

#the locked tomb

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junowritings · 3 months

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Hello! Could I please get a Baldur's Gate 3 matchup? Any gender is fine ^-^

I'm an autistic girl who also has adhd, asthma and chronic joint pain. I work as a librarian currently and am simultaneously very smart and scholarly and also full of energy. I'm definitely the sunshine person in a group, I love taking care of people and I'm very good at making other people laugh, I have a very dry witty sense of humor. I'm also super short, 4' 10"/147 cm, but I can get kinda insecure about it when dating. I have a very boyish style, long wavy auburn hair that floofs up around my head, glasses and I'm pale and covered in moles and freckles. I also love being out in nature, and if I can't be I bring nature to me, I have tons of houseplants.

Thank you so so much, have a great day!!

I just wanna say now that the line between two characters was so close I damn near considered doing both, but ultimately one boy won out for you lmao.

With that being said, I match you with...

You know who’d give you the love you so rightly deserve? HALSIN.

Halsin’s mere presence exudes a warmth that is difficult to put into words - it’s one of the many reasons others seem to flock to him for guidance or look to him for comfort. Perhaps it is that warmth that leads you to his side.

The first few interactions with the druid, the two of you hit it off like nobody's business. Halsin is the kind of man who with your equally vibrant personality makes it feel as though you’ve known this man for months longer than you actually have.

There’s a fierce focus behind your eyes that speaks of your sharp wit and intelligence, your pursuit of all things knowledge and academic clear from his very first meeting with you. There’s nothing that Halsin loves more than watching that fire kindle when something’s caught your interest, fascinated by the way your whole demeanor seems to brighten when something has managed to spark up your passion. You call yourself a sunshine person, but to Halsin you’re almost akin to the sun; a bright presence who warms up the very air around you as though breathing life into every place and every person you touch. Halsin would find himself wanting to see more of it; compelled to see what else he can do to get you to light up like that and bring out that radiance he’s so quickly begun to associate with you.

He will absolutely visit your workplace in the middle of the day. Of course he’d much prefer to take you outdoors any chance that he gets, but understands that the library is your territory - a fitting workplace, he comments, considering your pursuits. Expect his visits to be spontaneous though; whenever he finds himself thinking or pining for you he just follows the desire to seek you out to spend time at your side. The only warning that you’ll likely get is seeing his unmistakable figure outside of your peripheral before you’re scooped away from whatever task you’re working on; this can be cute but expect a few book based casualties if you happen to be holding any at the time. He’ll try not to disrupt your work, but let's be honest, having this big guy watching you with a gaze loving enough to make ice melt you’re gonna cave no matter how resilient you may be.

You’ll quickly begin finding little gifts left around your workspace, all of them expressions of his affection. Most of them, unsurprisingly, are plants; not only because he finds that nature can breathe a life into even the most mundane of places, but also because your mutual appreciation of nature makes him believe that you would enjoy nature’s gifts. Given your own love of nature you may find your coworkers suspecting you’re the one bringing them in; that is until they catch him on his way to you with a potted ribbon plant cradled in his arms.

You brim with energy, enough so that even Halsin finds himself caught up within the wake of it. His heart swells watching you care for others and bringing them joy as though it’s second nature. The willingness to care and tend to others is a trait so easily overlooked in the world, and given that Halsin has more than once taken on such a role in the past and present he finds a kindred spirit in that kind nature of yours. Dote on him, try to make him laugh, and watch this man melt for you like honey in the sun. Be it with your words or your touch, your care touches a place within his chest; one that carves a place in his heart for you to fill like it was made for you.

With that being said, the role of a caretaker so often comes with the consequence of overlooking your own care. This is a man though who knows that those who love taking care of others need the exact same love and attention lavished upon them in kind; and there is no one more eager to do so than himself. The care of oneself is just as important, and giving yourself time to heal and relax is vital. Taking you out into nature is a predictable date idea for the druid, but he does it to also get you away from the hustle and bustle of your everyday life if only for a few hours. To allow you a moment to breathe, ease some of the burdens from your shoulders, and give you a place away from others to vent and give yourself some peace.

Plus outdoorsy dates in the middle of nowhere gives him the excuse to remain affectionately glued to your side under the pretense of sticking close together - a fact he has no hesitation admitting to if you call him out on it.

His care also extends to your chronic pain. If you suffer from flare ups in your joints Halsin will insist on helping you in whatever way he can, so long as you’re comfortable of course. Balms and healing spells aplenty - anything that he can do to alleviate even a fraction of your suffering he's happy to do without a second of hesitation. He’d wish nothing more than to ease that pain from you entirely, but he does what he can to make the worst days a little more manageable.

Tall king won’t even think twice about your height, nor the potential insecurity that you are dealing with as a result. He strives to be accommodating for you, and there is not an inch of you that is not loved fully and wholly by this guy. If you open up about any potential insecurities, rest assured that he will devote every second of that very day reminding you of his appreciation for your form, and every little mark that makes up who you are.

If you think this man won’t kiss every single one of your moles and freckles, prepare to be proven so very wrong. Literally his favorite pastime when you’re cuddling is to kiss the freckles and marks that he can reach, whether that’s your face, your shoulders, your back, arms, or anywhere else. Has a habit of kissing the marks on your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours and brushing his nose along the top or palm of your hand before planting a kiss. Sometimes gets a little too enthusiastic with the kisses. He’s smushed your glasses into your nose a couple times beneath the barrage of his kisses, but your complaints about it are only met with a rumbling chuckle as he leans up to place an apologetic kiss to the bridge of your nose. Depending on where they are he’ll trace along those freckles and moles, mapping them out reverently beneath his fingertips as though committing them to memory. There’s a softness in his expression whenever he does this, but don’t call him out on it unless you’re gunning for some more kisses.

I do hope you’re prepared for your home to become a greenhouse! With both of your meticulous care your houseplants will practically thrive before your very eyes, and soon will be growing in number the more that Halsin integrates himself around your home. It’s as though he’s bringing the very outdoors inside with him, and he’s in turn deeply impressed by the attention and love which you have poured into the plants that take residence within your home.

#baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 halsin #halsin x reader #bg3 match up #baldurs gate match up #juno art #im telling you now hun Gale was THIS CLOSE #big guy won this time #halsin

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paracosmicparadox · 1 year

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FFXV headcanons / expanded canons Part The Second, because again, I desire character depth like I need it to breathe and if storebought isn't available, I will make it myself with my own two hands. Find Part The First here.

Ardyn: Listens to music solely in the cabaret genre or heavy metal; you can't change my mind on this (like you're flipping through his playlist and one moment its playing Kabaret Sybarit, then it switches violently and without warning to System of a Down and just about breaks your eardrums)

His closet rivals his living room in terms of size and depth (it's concerning; people get lost in there amongst his innumerable trench coats and ruffled shirts)

No coffee, no tea, only wine. Ravus and Verstael have to listen to his drunken rambling every other night and it is ghastly

Gossips like no other

He's a hoarder. You walk into his home and there are trinkets and baubles on every surface---it's gotten quite extreme

Has breakdowns in the shower

Has journals full of half-finished poetry lying about everywhere (he references the story of Julius Caesar and Marcus Brutus a lot because of the parallels to him and Somnus, and bc at this point he doesn't really care if he digs himself deeper into that rut of grief and anger)

Can't keep a plant alive to save his life; not even a cactus

He was a theater kid once upon a time

Luna: Actually legit super athletic. You can't really see it bc her muscles don't bulge, but she can and will judo flip a man effortlessly

Has the smallest handwriting you've ever seen

She's got mad art skills; there's a work-in-progress painting or pastel piece on her desk constantly

Certified history buff. This chick can recall the most obscure bits and details of Eos's past and will infodump to you if you're willing to listen

Actually works really hard to be a good person---it doesn't come naturally to her; she's no saint and she has to make a conscious effort to be as gentle as she is on a daily basis, and that in itself makes her an excellent human being

Names each and every one of her plants

Loves bugs and takes a thrill in the fact that they kinda gross Noct out

Has the "Hydrate or Dydrate" water bottle bc she forgets and needs to remind herself to imbibe H2O

Her Pinterest account is the stuff of legends

Ravus: He's so awkward in social situations---really, he's just awkward in general, but it's most obvious when someone's trying to talk to him and he's glaring daggers straight into their soul

Before his mother died, he was the kindest child. He was the sweetheart of the family and would make flower crowns with toddler Luna and make breakfast in the mornings for his family. When he withdrew, it pained those who knew him immensely

The Super Smash Bros grandmaster (he's horrible at Mario Kart though, which frustrates him to no end)

Already has some arthritic problems in his knuckles and in his knees. He always had bad joints, but it's getting worse with the years

A pro at calligraphy and fancy lettering

His art skills are just as good if not better than Luna's. He only works in graphite and charcoal, but his drawings are the most heartwrenchingly beautiful things you've ever seen

Can regularly be found in a museum or in a library

Plays D&D on the weekends when he can with an online party (the campaign's been going on for nearly 2 years; he plays a level 8 Drow Warlock)

Aranea: Owns a motorcycle---you can't change my mind.

Mixes grenadine with everything. Champagne? She's adding grenadine. Wine? Grenadine time baby. Tequila? Gimme that sweet pomegranate syrup.

AO3 angst fics are her guilty pleasure

Probably has a pilot's license (in all honesty if it was an irl setting instead of Final Fantasy, she probably would've been in the Airforce)

Wears cologne instead of perfume because it makes her seem more roguish and she likes the scent better

She's always wanted a pet snake (one of those white pythons curious faces and boopable snoots)

Raging bisexual

Knows her way on an aerial silk like nobody's business

Major vulnerability issues (she cares so, SO deeply, but no one can EVER. KNOW. except Prompto. Prompto knows.)

Best buds with Prompto ever since the events in Niflheim at the Magitek Production Facility (they facetime each other every Wednesday)

She's a sucker for a good horror flick

#ffxv #ff15 #prompto #noctis #noctis lucis caelum #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #aranea highwind #ardyn lucis caelum #ravus nox fleuret #lunafreya nox fleuret #headcanon #I don't know I finished this game ages ago but I've been thinking about it lately

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piareia · 9 months

Text

The Fire Tides Chapter 1: Firefly in His Eye

According to Richard, we see Drago’s backstory prior to the ‘This is Berk’ dialogue. So here’s my adaptation of a young Drago – quite a solemn tone for the first chapter but I really didn’t want to miss Drago’s backstory. If you find this uninteresting, just start from Chapter 2 as there is huge change in tone and setting.

The fire spread towards the tides, scuttling like a centipede as the multitude of beasts burned the villagers’ homes away. Screams battled against roars and axes struck against claws as the fight between humans and dragons continued on and on throughout the perpetual night.

A young boy, fawn-like and with eyes of an incongruous innocence, ran past the wounded villagers, averting his view from all the bloodshed that was, once again, occurring right in front of him. He shuffled behind a wooden pole, scrunching his eyes and gripping tightly onto his dreadlocks as he listened to the sound of the agonising cries of the islanders.

Humans and dragons cannot live together.

That’s what his father explicitly told him on multiple occasions. However, for some peculiar reason, he could not seem to settle with that statement. Nature always seemed to maintain some sort of cohesive setting, whether it was for plants, animals or humans, there was always some form of equilibrium between living beings.

When he was much younger, a wasp had hovered near him and out of fear, he yelped and instantly threw his hand at it. His mother told him to stay still.

Leave it alone and it will leave you alone.

Why couldn’t the same work for dragons? He could not force himself to perceive it with any other feasible logic. Attacking and harming a creature only led to them attempting to defend themselves. Humans did the same.

The boy continued to keep his eyes screwed shut till he heard a familiar growl near him. Amongst all the throwing axes and flying arrows, a black figure emerged from the shadows. It’s piercing glare shot through the darkness as it's azure eyes reflected the growing flames like the tides attempting to extinguish the rising fire. A night fury. This was a night fury.

The dragon approached him with slow steps, scarred body and all, grunting and gnarling at every stride as he peered strikingly at the boy. He froze. His eyes widened.

The young boy’s arms trembled as he attempted to stand in complete paralysis, just as his mother once told him. And then it happened.

Amongst all the chaos and destruction, there was a noticeable glint within the dragon’s eyes, almost like that of a firefly. It circled his dark iris, one of curiosity, one of pain and one of fear – reflecting the child’s very own thoughts. His grunting began to slow down and take the form of small puffs, gradually connecting with the boy and confirming his question. The same thing can work for dragons.

Time stopped for the two opposing sides as they were stuck in a trance of unspeakable interconnection. But then, sadly, dreadfully, the worst of the worst occurred in a split second and changed everything between the two souls.

“Drago! Move away from that thing!” His father fiercely hurled an axe right at the night fury’s tail, slashing his already scarred flesh. The dragon jostled his head upwards with a shattering cry. The glint from his eyes was gone. The firefly was gone.

With reignited rage, he charged at the child’s arm with thoughts of betrayal, anger and pain. Vigorously biting into his soft flesh, he tore the joint off and soullessly swung it into the flames. The boy let out an excruciating cry.

We’re in an equilibrium now. Isn’t that what nature does? It was as if the night fury was taunting him.

His breath heaved and shook at irregular intervals: his left arm lay desolate in a pool of blood. Echoes of his mother and father’s cries, the villagers’ screams, the dragons’ roars were all clouding his mind. Chaos and destruction. They were beasts. They were killers. They tore people apart. His whole island, burned to the ground. All because of these…dragons.

That night changed everything. Drago was never the same. Just as fireflies died quickly, any remaining glints of innocence vanished in that second, leaving only a trail of fire to fiercely stream towards the tides.

Hi Guys! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter :) I'm kind of new to tumblr but I'm trying to become a novelist in the near future, so I thought I would start off by writing something a lot of the httyd fans want! After watching Audrie Greywind's interview with Richard, I immediately looked for a fanfic for The Fire Tides and was surprised to not find anything! That's when I decided to start writing the whole thing up - so far, we're looking around twelve or thirteen chapters to this depending on how much I write for each one. Hope you guys look forward to this!

@audriegreywind

#httyd #the fire tides #drago bludvist #writing #hiccup haddock #audrie greywind #richard hamilton

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iamthecomet · 3 months

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I'm fine with anyone but Phantom is my favorite so.

Thank you Comet 💜

🕸️

A random assortment of soft Aeon (Phantom) headcanons for you, under the cut. I hope you feel better soon, Webby. ♥♥

Aeon's love language is very much physical touch. Would like to always be touching someone if possible. Also, super snuggly. During movie nights he always finds a way to snuggle into the tightest places he can, bracketed by multiple ghouls. Doesn't matter if he has to contort himself to get there. Talks, a lot and very animated. Loves to talk about things he's interested in, and learn about what other people are interested in. Naturally curious. Spent his first few weeks topside trying to absorb literally everything he could. Shy in that sort of, quiet until you get to know him sort of way. Not super talkative around strangers but as soon as he's comfortable he's good to go. Very touchy. Big hugger. Honed his healing skills early. Spent a lot of time with Aether trying to make sure he was good at them before he went out on the road. Can be a little heavy handed with his quintessence, but when he's healing migraines or joint pain no one seems to care much. Loves to help. Wants to help. Is funny, and reckless, and as devious as any other ghoul. But at his core is sensitive. Isn't really afraid to get vulnerable, but is also so good at bringing levity to hard situations. Cannot cook. Do not let him near a stove. Major green thumb. I HC that he's Quint/Earth, just because I like the idea of Mountain teaching him how to use Earth magic, and Aeon realizing how simliar Earth magic is to quintessence. It's all life. He's teeming with it. Has figured out how to use Quintessence on plants--Mountain's not a big fan. Doesn't like sleeping alone. Is usually curled up with someone as he falls asleep. Especially likes to sleep snuggled up with Copia. Truly a pack driven ghoul. While some (Rain, Dew, Cirrus to name a few) say they could make it on their own without getting too lonely or struggling too much (whether it's true or not is up for debate). Aeon relies on his pack and isn't afraid to admit it. They're his family. He knows the value of having a support system, and isn't (usually) too stubborn to ask for help when he needs it. Gives really good hugs. Just filled with so much comfort and love. Really just the biggest softy, and not even remotely afraid to admit it.

#comet comments #🕸️anon #comet canons #aeon headcanons

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letters-from-dekarios · 10 days

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(you are incredible, truly, if I were to count how often I read the response letter, the number would be embarrassingly high.

I allowed myself some crossovers here because in the game, Astarion quotes Tell-tale Heart so that opens up a loophole for real life works to make some appearances here! And the author's name honestly sounds like it would exist in the world of bg3 xD

I saw multiple cameos of Tim Downie reading poetry and I desperately needed to find an outlet.......)

{There was a restless about him that Gale couldn't quite place a finger on. Busying himself with some tomes or preparations for work serves only as a temporary relief. But when another letter of his old friend arrives, it settles. A warmth then, spreads in his uneasy limbs. Comfort.}

⚝─⭒⭑⭒─⚝

Warm Greetings, Gale Dekarios

A little bit of an ego never hurt anyone, though I sense you might even disagree with me on that. I assure you, I don't mind you rambling on about yourself, especially after not hearing from you personally in so long. I am quite interested in anything you wish to share with me. When I heard of your companions for the first time, I definitely thought their descriptions were exaggerated, but as word of your achievements grew, it became pretty clear you were quite a colorful set of adventurers. I suppose such a variety of lives lived serve as quite the opportunity to learn about new perspectives and yourself.

Though the fact you traveled all that time on foot - I dread to think of the state of your knees! Borage fruits would be beneficial here should you ever find yourself on long walks again and Mandrake leaves for joint pain in general. Courtesy of my father, he insisted I should let you know. Surely there are healing spells for this but my old man is a bit scared of 'witchcraft' as he calls it. (You can't imagine the face he made when I had first told him about attending Blackstaff Academy. Being the sweetheart that he is, he supported me still. There are stories here I will save for when we meet in person. Stay tuned.)

I'm glad Tara and your mother are doing well, even if you had to endure quite a bit of scolding. You can't deny them their caring and at times overbearing nature - it's an expression of love. I've learned as much from my family. I'd be happy to ease your load on baked goods, motherly love is a magical ingredient in on its own after all, or so I've heard.

I'm quite pleased to know I inspired you, I suppose I was rather blinded by all of your talent back then and missed that side to our interactions. Frankly, I'm happy you thought of me at all. There's no denying that I feel a bit flattered even, I count my optimism as one of my greater traits and I've worked hard to maintain it throughout my darker times. See it as smoothing out a dent in the molding of that piece of pottery that is me.

Speaking of which, it has actually become a bit of a hobby of mine. There was a time I used to sit for hours in the basement and work on vases and pots, though usually smashing them was the end result - It's awfully therapeutic. But I have completed a few tiny ceramics that are mainly for decoration.

Currently my projects revolve around making specialized pots for my plants. I've become a bit of a homebody in the progression of my ailment and the greenhouse gives me motivation to drink up some sunlight along the greenery sometimes. I'm tempted to look into the usage of magical plants.

If there is one thing I'm guilty of, it's busying myself with things to fill out any gaps in my days. The more I do the better, lest I wake another day to find my limbs weigh a ton of bricks again.

Moving on, I wish you lots of luck with your professorship. Those nights spent trying to teach me a spell or two will finally pay off. I do hope I wasn't too bad of a student because you were an excellent teacher. You'll be a great professor also, I'm sure. And I wouldn't mind being a translator - there's a satisfaction in being able to explain something to someone else. And I admit I miss hearing you ramble before you put your thoughts into order for the common person.

I do very much hope the allies you've made will deter any enemies that you met along the way.. Although it would be quite bold to mess with someone who has defied both Gods and Devils. Perhaps you're lucky and there's too much of a risk factor to it.

And maybe that's how any potential suitor feels, too. I imagine it's quite intimidating to be with someone who has saved innumerable people from a Mindflayer invasion. Or they have certain expectations of you as a hero while I'm sure you still see yourself simply as a very ambitious mage. With a bit of an ego.

Either way, it's good to see you're not too hung up about it. I was going to joke that you are already committed to your work, but you beat me to it. Fair enough. If I am allowed to demonstrate a small annotation here, I think things like love are found in the most unexpected places. As you've said, you need a foundation to build upon rather than that sudden spark of love at first sight. It might take until the roof is put up or the furniture is being arranged for you to realize you have found yourself at home in the person right beside you, the only thing left to do then is to settle in. I'm also still in the process - an open lot and waiting for a permit, you could say. Those can take quite a while to be granted. But currently unhoused.

As you can tell, I also haven't lost my poetic tendencies. Although I am much more a consumer and commentator than a writer, I dabble occasionally and I am terrible at it. There's already a very good passage on this that I recall from a book I've recently transcribed, but I fear I'll be sending my whole library back to you, considering all the things I can think of that might be of interest to you in there. Perhaps you ought to see it for yourself some day.

I also want to say I was delighted by your sonett at the end. You have an incredible way with words and I find myself continuously quoting you in my mind ("Having everything yet nothing at all", "no longer a block of unused clay", "sui generis, of its own kind. Inimitable. Bespoke.".. you catch my drift). The pictures you paint are that of a skilled brush and they are brought to canvas by a man who has a mind that can put his thoughts into form, and it is commendable. While I am still stumbling over my words, I hope the ones of another that I attached to this letter might resonate with you instead.

Enough of the rambling on (we are awful at this), my family is well. My father has an apothecary here in town, but his assistant is usually the one at the counter while he's off traveling, gripped by a sudden sense of wanderlust. Right now he's trudging through the Misty Forest and visiting Daggerford for new herbs and writes me regularly.

I don't know if you remember my aunt at all, but she's usually the one to stick around and check in on me everyday in case of difficulties. She's also doing quite well, though I think my proneness to worry is definitely something I've inherited from her. Besides that, my friends are similarly busy with work and travel but overall doing quite alright. There's a peace in this stillness that life sometimes offers.

Do tell me all about the Academy once you've resumed your work there, I'm quite curious about the state of things. And if you have another piece of poetry springing from your quill anytime soon I'll be most eager to review it. Are you still in contact with the companions you've met on your journey? And how has your return to Waterdeep been received? I'm sure you were dearly missed. How does it feel to be back home, stationary and warm after being on the road for quite a while? There's likely a bit of getting used to the old ways of things again. Perhaps even some yearning and reminiscing of your travels, although less about the walking and more about the comradery and thrill, I assume.

I'm taking care of myself, I promise you. You better do so as well. Don't underestimate the power a bit of sunlight and a walk outside have on your mood (and health!!). You should know that your letters are a great joy to me and I am just as keenly anticipating your reply. Especially with the prospect of a visit on the table - I'll be glancing out of the window for the arrival of my mail without even realizing it.

~ Warm regards, Theo Rivershade

PS: I audibly chuckled at the part where you threatened to scold me, should I attempt to travel to you. You sounded exactly like my aunt. I think your mother and Tara are rubbing off on you a tad bit. It is amusing and somehow endearing.

PPS: Your "idiotic rambles" will be regarded as the musings of a wise man one day, just you wait. Although I beg of you to tone down on all those complicated words when you teach your students. I know they might sound better than modern synonyms and their etymologies are just so interesting but I assure you that your class will pick up on your favorite words and tease you with them. Coming from firsthand experience.

{Together with the letter, he finds another, smaller parchment on which a poem is written, Theo having made an effort to use his neatest handwriting here as well. The poem reads:..}

"When I compare / What I have lost with what I have gained, / What I have missed with what attained, / Little room do I find for pride.

I am aware / How many days have been idly spent; / How like an arrow the good intent / Has fallen short or been turned aside.

But who shall dare / To measure loss and gain in this wise? / Defeat may be victory in disguise; / The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide."

Loss And Gain - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

{ small annotations are scribbled by the side of the text, as though the half-elf couldn't help himself.}

"> days idly spent, not realizing time was running out. The thought was there but the courage to leap wasn't."

"> arrows are meant to hit a target, falling short or aside as though missing an opportunity, distracted by something or shooting your shot but with not enough momentum. The opportunity passes."

"> defeat/victory, ebb/tide, a low is the sign of a turning point, a second chance, one needed to fail to realize what had been lost and take that regret and reflection to turn their fate around and try again, intending to hit the target this time with conviction."

⚝─⭒⭑⭒─⚝

(let me tell you the way I grinned like an idiot on the train as I listened to the wizard himself read out that poem.. It reflected the way the potential relationship between the two of them slipped out of their grasps so well!!!

And also I'm so happy you like Theo?? I wasn't too sure if I was able to get across his character through text but it seems to be working. Thank you do much for this blog this is so delightful! Don't feel bad for being busy and not replying immediately, we all have lives of our own to take care of and I'm very happy you take time out of yours to indulge us like this. <3)

Dearest Theo,

I can assure you I was the most skeptical of their situations at first! But as the days grew longer and the nights more restless, the stories told made all too much sense for my companions. In an unfortunate kind of way, it put my circumstances into a perspective I’d never considered prior. Call it ignorance, or perhaps man-made stupidity, but I hadn’t thought that there were situations worse than I until I met all of them. It helps to lessen the blow of the anxiety in one’s heart when you recognize you aren’t at your worst as you once thought.

Please, I may be in my later thirties now but long-distance walking is no match for me! Though I must admit, because I can hear your incessant comments about that statement being untruthful, it would take a bit of a toll on these bones of mine. Whatever needs to be done to combat it, I am certain you will find a way.

How could I not think of you? Amidst our childish revelry and academic discourse, you were the one thing within my life that was constant. Even when my world changed so rapidly, you, Theo, you were the same. I could always count on you to be there. Whether it was to poke fun at me or laugh at my haphazard spell-casting, you challenged me in ways that I cannot forget. Oftentimes, I find myself reminiscing over those days as though I could turn back the clock and relish in them all over again. The day I stop remembering the glow of youth on you and how I imagined what you’d be like as you grew up is the day I am buried in with the dirt.

Pottery is an amazing hobby! I do not consider myself talented in the arts, but pottery has always amazed me. It takes a careful, steady hand to not pierce the clay that you’re moulding. Perhaps when I visit I can see the wonderful pots you’ve created, that would be nice. I’m sure your craft has improved much the more you’ve practiced, and I’ll be quite able to recognize the stamp of your originality you’ve placed on it.

Ah, you flatter me so, Theo! I do like to give myself a bit of a pat on the back, so to speak, when it comes to my lectures. Speaking in front of those curious, ever-hungry minds does remind me much of my attempted lessons with you. While my frustrations would get the better of me, it was good practice. I believe that is what has sparked my love for teaching— knowing that, even though it may take some students a bit more effort to grasp, in some way I am affecting their lives to their benefit.

I appreciate your confidence in me. It can be overwhelming sometimes, especially when my desk is stacked high with papers needing to be graded, but it comforts me to know someone believes in my efforts. But if you ever want to seriously consider it, I know the academy can make accommodations for you as you need.

Hah! You amuse me. Or maybe it’s the wine at this hour as I write to you. Intimidation is hardly the word I’d call it, but despite the ego I hold I can’t deny I minimize my accomplishments from time to time. If they are intimidated, I couldn’t imagine why. I suppose you have a point, however.

I guess you could say I cannot measure any potential suitor against my… mental requirements. As aforementioned, it’s difficult for me to allow someone in when they cannot compete with the idea I have in my head already. Perhaps I am stuck on someone or something. I simply cannot get past this roadblock and allow myself to indulge elsewhere. Never mind, though, that is what these pages and ink are for.

“An open lot and waiting for a permit.” My friend, you are as much the poet as you claim me to be. Perhaps we should contact our local authorities to get a move on with granting those permits, hm? It’s an odd sort of feeling, wishing to rush the granting while not wanting to finish the building. When the home is complete, though, the workers go on their way and I am simply left in an empty box. Does it get any simpler in this life? So complex these things are, it almost makes a man want to sell the lot entirely.

You know I am a sucker for good books and transcribed poetry. I would be happy to explore the contents of your library one day when I get the chance to visit.

You would be surprised how long that sonnet took to write! My mind was blanketed and uninspired. But I knew I must deliver for you since it has been so long. The words penned by Henry touch too close to home, your annotations only driving the point closer. I am ever thankful you share such things with me.

“How many days have been idly spent”, “The thought was there but the courage to leap wasn't.” How true your annotation is. It can often feel as though one is wasting away. Despite the efforts one wants to take, fear has a stronger grasp that prevents them from making the move.

“Has fallen short or been turned aside.”, “…shooting your shot but with not enough momentum. The opportunity passes.” This resonates oddly, you could say. Hesitating in letting go of the arrow prevents you from succeeding to the fullest extent, and thus the target has moved on and is no longer attainable. Not unless you can rebuild your momentum again, that is.

“Defeat may be victory in disguise; / The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.", “one needed to fail to realize what had been lost and take that regret and reflection to turn their fate around and try again, intending to hit the target this time with conviction." Ah… I stated that the last one resonated, but this is even more so. Being knocked down time and time again can often blind oneself to the small victories happening around them. In my case, my fall to selfishness provided room for improvement and allowed me to gain a more sensible heart. When the intention behind the aim becomes clear, it is easier for the target to be hit. Failure is not often the last and final step, but it is the first one that allows a person to move forward.

I am glad your family is well! It sounds as though your father is having much fun in his adventures. He would do well to keep that spirit up! I’m sure he’ll find much satisfaction in it. For your aunt, oh I do remember her so. She reminded me of my mother in a way, and I’m glad to hear she hasn’t changed much. Sometimes we need that overbearing, motherly presence to help keep us in line. Sometimes that motherly presence comes in the form of a middle-aged human man. You cannot blame me for my concern!

Believe me, I will write you as soon as I set my eyes on this new generation. I cannot wait to see what attitudes these young ones have and how much has changed since we were once here in their positions.

I do still keep in contact with those that I can! As we have all resumed our new lives, it can be hard to keep up with all that’s changed. Astarion, bless the vampire’s changed soul, visits Waterdeep now and then when the moon is high enough to do so. Wyll, I’m sure you know Duke Ravengard’s son, writes often. As gentlemanly as he is, boy do his words get overwhelming. He’s almost like a small child, needing to write about every detail and every change in the city. The others I met along the way write when they can, as how things usually are. Each are busy with their respective new duties as I mentioned.

As for the welcome parade, once I returned home, it’s safe to say not many were pleased with how it happened, but a majority were relieved. Considering I isolated myself from most of them, choice words were exchanged, a scolding here and there, but for the most part, it was handled well. Having a hero in the City of Splendors makes the spot an even more firey tourist attraction, seeing where the great “Wizard of Waterdeep” once grew up as a normal young boy! Please, the flattery is exhausting. I much prefer being “Gale Dekarios” now. But I know they mean well, most of them do.

Being home, though, despite the gawking and attraction, is refreshing. Sleeping in my bed, with no worry of being attacked in the midst of the night, certainly eases my heart. Not wondering where my next meal will come from or whether I will have the strength to make it through the day is certainly calming, too. Resuming my not-so-normal life has taken some time, I’ll admit, but it’s better than it was on the road.

You’d be correct, though. I sometimes do miss the travels and the good times we’d share around the campfire. Late nights under the stars sharing a bottle of wine like we had no time left to live… the feeling of walking on the edge between life and death, the thrill of knowing you might die a hero without living to see if you would succeed… in its own kind of a way, it was exciting. It brought a sense of adventure that sitting at home grading papers cannot counter, no matter how much I enjoy professorship. But I doubt I’d turn this up to experience that all over again, I’m afraid my body cannot handle that any longer.

Good! You should be taking care of yourself, otherwise I may have to send a mirror image of myself to combat your neglect. I can promise you I am taking as best care of myself as I can. As I said, I’ve got both Tara and my mother to step in if anything happens.

Do you ever miss Waterdeep? Do you ever think you’d return if you had the chance, or would you want to? I know I do miss your presence around here, but I know health concerns can come in the way of that. Are you interested in continuing your studies at any point? It would be fun to see you as a translator and a student at the academy again, I can just imagine you there now.

I promise to send word when I have a moment to head to you. I cannot wait to hear from you again.

From the desk of,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

P.S. Oh, please! I’m sure they’ll do fine with the more complex words. I’m now going to use more of them just to prove you wrong, Theo. I may have shaved down my ego, but you know better than to challenge a stubborn man with his own skills.

text reads: gale dekarios

staaawwwwpppp omg… that poem took so long trying to find words that rhymed and also had the right syllables. i should’ve payed more attention in english class as a kid haha. and yes!! theo is my little baby… i want to hold him and gale like tiny dolls and make them hang out. UGHHH i love the ocs everyone is throwing at me.. but theo has a special little place in my heart right now ~kore

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acermp100 · 2 months

Text

WAWA WEEK PART 6: THE FINAL WAWA

Decided to post my combo tonight. So yeah, I wrapped together the last two prompts: Comfort and Birthday.

HAPPY BDAY WAWA!!!!!!!!

Serizawa is sick and Reigen comes over to care for him.

I have had many a respiratory diseases so sorry for the projecting.

Teen Audience. Seri Rei be here in full force. Depictions of illness and suffering. Dimple sass. Snuggles.

~3000k words

---------------------------------------

Opening his eyes just led to more pain. Light, be it natural or from electricity, seemed to drive toward the back of head, increasing the dizziness before plunging into his stomach to do more damage. It wasn’t that he was hungry; more that he had tried to eat too many times and now lay in failure. And that constant, throbbing ache in his temples didn’t help either.

Serizawa rolled over hoping that lying on his back would provide a fraction of relief. Used tissues had long over filled the little trashcan he had brought to the side of his bed. Groping at the nightstand, he managed to find a clean one but nothing would stop the visceral coughing whenever he took more than a shallow breath. It started out at a little chest cold: a bit of a tickle in the back of his throat and a runny nose. Now a few days later he didn’t even have the energy to take medication let alone keep it down. Weary eyes wandered toward to bathroom door before Serizawa curled up in on himself under the blankets.

Nope. Too hot. He thought he had managed to create a decent homeostasis with his legs outside and his chest protected, but instead all the heat would swell into his head bleed from there, leaving him sweating even with the blankets fully off. Then a shiver would start and he’d have to wake up long enough to bundle himself once more.

Sleep would be nice. That’s what his mother always said- just lie in bed for a day, drink some juice, have some soup and it will be fine. His clouded mind attempted to recall if he ever suffered an illness this severe and long when a kid, however that just brought back memories he’d rather keep buried. A groan as he rotated once more, limbs and joints ever sore.

None of this compared to the shame writhing in his guts at having to call off work. It was day three now and all of his desperate attempts to get back into shape had only made him feel worse. Still, he kept his phone by his head ready to text at the first sign of good news. The weekend lay far away and even then he was missing classes and running out of food and clean laundry. His head seemed to buzz with even more pain and he let out a grunt, one eye opening. It turned out to be his phone.

“Happy birthday, son!” Came the text, followed by several heart emojis. “I hope you feel better soon and the care package I brought helped. Love, Mom.”

He cracked a tired grin as tears weld up in his eyes, not helping his congested sinuses. His birthday. He had forgotten all about it. Lifting his head he could still see the quaint basket his mom had brought over a few days earlier. Cookies he was unable taste now, medication that sadly couldn’t tackle even a half of his symptoms, cans of soup he was too weak to heat up, and a little potted plant that was slowly drooping from lack of water. Wincing, Serizawa buried his face in an arm and began to desperately sob into a sweat drenched sleeve.

His phone buzzed again. Sorry, mom. I’ll reply later. Just assume I’m asleep. But it went off again. And again. On the fourth time, Serizawa gritted his teeth and reached for the annoying thing, laying back into the pillow while his eyes tried to focus on the screen.

“Hey Tsuya. I rang but you didn’t answer.”

“You in there?”

“Please answer or I’m going to kick down the door.”

“KATSUYA PLEASE DON’T BE DEAD.”

A moan followed by slow, heavy footsteps. Serizawa had to brace himself against the wall with an arm before gathering enough strength to even unlock and open the door.

“Heeeey there!”

Reigen stood just outside with arms full of packages and bags. From the reaction, Serizawa assumed his pale face and sunken eyes with a raw, red nose and cheeks wasn’t doing him any favors. Without the will to even crack a welcoming expression, he glared ahead as he took short, rasping breaths. No ill will intended but appearing sociable was not exactly the first thing on his mind.

“Door bell’s broken. Sorry.” A bit of a phlegmy hack followed his words.

“Dude, you look fucking horrible.”

While Reigen still wrestled with figuring out if Serizawa had turned into a zombie or not, Dimple chimed in.

“Wait. What?” Serizawa stumbled back a bit, still holding on to the door frame. “Why are you here? It’s still the middle of the day right?” A panic as he glanced at his phone. 10:23am and still Tuesday. Didn’t lose track of the date yet. “Don’t you have clients to-“

Reigen was already letting himself in and setting down all his bundles, organizing them on the mail covered table near Serizawa’s meager kitchen.

“I brought some soup and medications- the really good stuff I use when I used to get sick running on one meal a day.” Bottles and cans and veggies with other ingredients even a blanket and some cooling pads. “And Shinra send over this charm that is supposed to keep spirits from getting at you when ill.”

“Hmph.” Dimple rolled his eyes at the little golden and beaded tag. “Telling you right now that’s just gonna gather dust.”

Reigen glared up mid opening a bottle of cough syrup. “Can you not for like ten minutes?”

“Just saying!”

Having used his legs longer than he had ever in the past few days, Serizawa limped over to the table and used a chair as a crutch, wincing from muscles sore from both disuse and inflammation.

“Reigen-san. What- what about the office?” He stared down at a week’s supply of food and medication. “How long are you-“

“Nope.” Reigen held a finger against Serizawa’s lips. “I’m here to care for you for as long as it takes. And the office-” A glance away while he tried to come up with the right words. “I decided to close for a bit.” He couldn’t meet Serizawa’s eyes but still managed to turn back. “You need to get back on your feet.”

In the dark apartment it was hard to tell if anyone was blushing, but a confused joy swelled in Serizawa’s chest and he straightened up, only to be taken by a rough spasm of coughs. Reigen frowned. After a few short breaths to catch back up, Serizawa tried to speak again.

“You- you both came to take care of- of me?”

“Hell no.” Dimple pointed at Reigen. “He’s the one doing the gross stuff.” A grin as he started to float backward. “I’m here to wait outside and scare the pants off of any would be solicitors.”

“Yeah. He loves doing that now.” Reigen let out a sigh, brining a hand to his face. “I found out the hard way when MY PAKAGES STOPPED SHOWING UP.”

The angry gripe was not received as Dimple had already slipped through the closed door.

A long sigh. “Welp, start off by taking some of this.” Reigen help up a little clear, plastic cup filled with a bright red liquid. “It helps a ton with keeping coughing down and I assume you have a sore throat too.”

Serizawa nodded back. Even with his sense of smell and taste obliterated, he still winced as the syrup went down his throat. Strong stuff indeed.

“How’s that feel?”

Serizawa let out a shudder. “Like I took a shot of brandy.”

“Good.” Reigen grinned. “That means it’s working.”

He continued unpacking the mountain of supplies. Vapor rub, a small electric humidifier, movie DVDs, more vegetable even packs of noodles and spice containers already opened from his own apartment. The hands normally furiously gesturing in the air were now adept at separating, organizing, and readying everything. Serizawa felt himself growing a bit dizzy at it all.

“Reigen-san.”

“Don’t start that.” Reigen looked over, now finished. “This is far cheaper than a stay at the clinic anyway.” A clap of his hands. “Alright! Let’s get you off your feet.”

Serizawa couldn’t object to being helped back to bed. A few more pillows wouldn’t hurt either.

“No, not there.”

The sudden stop caused Serizawa to stumble but he was caught under the shoulder.

“I meant the couch.” Reigen forced a grin as he bore far too much dead weight. “C-come on. It’s just a bit further.”

Serizawa didn’t mean to, but the dizziness was starting to really get to him. So much congestion and needing to take short breaths left him grateful for the assistance. Now sitting, he brought a hand to his temples to try and alleviate some of the pressure while the room spun around him.

“Wh- why not the bed?

Frowning over at the one pillow, Serizawa just wanted to cocoon under his blankets and go to sleep. The sweating had returned and he wrapped his arms around himself as he began to shiver.

Reigen had walked away but now returned with more pillows and started to form a mound with them at the far side of the couch.

“Here, lay back but keep sitting. That will help the cough and let you eat.”

A grumble. Serizawa’s stomach protested at just the mention of food. “I don’t think I can eat.”

More pillow adjustment as Serizawa sat back, legs finally resting on the couch. He was going to complain more about the many fun times he had in his bathroom but a blanket was tossed over him. A grunt as he pulled it around himself and off his face.

“That’s wool.” Reigen had returned to the table but still spoke over his shoulder. “It’s not going to get soaked from your fever sweats and should keep you from overheating as well.” He returned with the little humidifier and got it plugged in and active. “And you’ll be able to keep the food down.” Their eyes met. “Trust me.”

Serizawa breathed in some of the warmed mist. At first a sneeze but his throat and airways slowly turned from raw and burning to a soothing dampness. He looked up to try and cough out a thank you but Reigen had already set his sights on the kitchen.

Pans, knives, a bit of oil, spices- the man knew where everything was. Soon water was boiling but Serizawa couldn’t smell what was cooking. Judging by the vegetables and large pot he assumed it was some kind of soup. Carrots were peeled with potatoes and onions chopped up all together while the waste and skins went into the pot to start forming a stock.

Serizawa watched with hooded eyelids, no longer dizzy just exhausted. He himself never got too skilled at cooking and cracked a smile watching the master at work. But how did Reigen even learn this when he ate fast food and instant noodles so much? Images and thoughts blurred together as Serizawa closed his eyes and slipped into an uneasy state between dreaming and being awake.

“Almost forgot!”

When he opened his eyes again there were several things cooking and stewing on his small stove now. Reigen was smiling down at him holding Serizawa’s phone.

“Here watch this.” It took a bit for Serizawa to properly take the phone with shaking hands but Reigen remained patient. “The kids all recorded a happy birthday thing for you.”

“Oh.” Serizawa tried to focus his eyes. “Thanks.”

“The soup needs more time so in the meanwhile I’m gonna wash your bedding and do some laundry.” Reigen already had a heap of blankets and sheets in his arms. “There’s some pills and a glass of water on the table, it’ll stop your stomach from going sour again.”

“Wait, Rei-“

Too late. The man was already out the door. His laundry? Serizawa felt terrible. His own boss tending to him like a spoiled child: cooking, cleaning, everything. A little visit would have been enough but this felt wrong. Would this be coming out of his paycheck? Even if his mom was here performing the same chores he’d feel just as guilty. Still, he was glad for the help despite his embarrassment.

After downing the pills, he settled in again, the phone screen glowing back at him as he pressed play.

“HEY SERIZAWA.”

Shou appeared in frame only to be playfully pushed out of the way by Teru.

“Happy birthday!”

Ritsu poked his head in. “Yeah, happy birthday.”

Then the camera focused on Mob. He gave a little wave. “Happy birthday, Serizawa.”

Tome was yelling something in the background. The only word that got through was ‘party’.

“Yeah! Don’t worry about missing anything!” Shou took over again. “You can always move your birthday!”

“No you can’t.” Ritsu mumbled from the side.

“I meant the party!”

There came the sounds of a scuffle. Pens and papers flew into the air as Mob stood in frame expressionless while he observed something off screen. After a bit, Teru refocused the shot.

“Anyway, we wanted to wish you a speedy recovery.”

Mob poked his head over Teru’s shoulder and spoke softly despite all the commotion going on in the background. “When you get better, we can go to that karaoke place again.”

“Karaoke!” And once again Shou forced himself into frame. “I’m so gonna get one of the Kageyama’s up there singing just you wait!”

“Pfff. You should at least go first.” Quipped back Teru.

Ritsu also chimed in. “Oh I’ve heard it. Like a dying bird.”

And there went everyone back to arguing, save for Mob. He smiled a bit and looked into the camera.

“This is getting a bit long so: Happy birthday once again! Hope you get over your cold too. Bye Serizawa!”

A few blurry fumbles before the video ended. There was a smile forming on Serizawa’s face throughout it all, but weariness also spread, leading to the phone and his hand to fall at his side. The throbbing headache faded away to much needed sleep mixing with memories of singing and drinking and laughter. Reigen sat next to him and grinned over. Can’t look into his eyes but the tingle in his chest Serizawa could feel even through asleep lying with sore ribs and lungs from coughing so much. Then he’d see Reigen’s hand on the bar, fingers tapped as a tale was spun. Just reach for it. It’s only a dream.

“Katsuya? Sorry to wake you.”

Serizawa cracked open one eye, mumbling something while the weight of reality pushed down on him once more. It took a bit for dizziness and focus to line up enough but in the end he was staring at a hand in his own. Was he still dreaming? He gave a weak squeeze back before noticing Reigen over him.

“Hey, there you are.”

The soft smile and eyes without a hint of judgment. Serizawa lifted his other arm in his addled state, wanting nothing more than to rest his hand against Reigen’s face. A memory of them on this same couch together, shoulders pushing against the other from the limited space. It would have been so easy to reach around a waist and pull him in for a hug. His arm faltered at his own chest while he jerked, letting out a rough, wet series of coughs.

“Sounds like you might need more syrup.” Reigen released the hand, concern on his face. “At least your fever is down.”

Serizawa held his breath as a palm was placed on his forehead, the thumb tracing through his hair. Thoughts raced back and forth, colliding into to one another until all he was left with was a quiet calm, leaning into the touch. This is nice. His boss here taking care of him when he needed it. But why did he feel so tense still? Muscles and thoughts always resisting. Serizawa let out a raspy exhale.

What had his mother said?

“Don’t give me that face. Just because you’re all grown up now doesn’t mean you won’t need help from time to time. Never think of yourself as undeserving.”

Serizawa smiled up weakly at Reigen. “Thank you.” He had to take another breath in before continuing. “For all of this.”

A soft grin back, Reigen’s hand still gently resting on Serizawa’s forehead.

“No problem, big guy. Now!” He stood up, clapping his hands together, but Serizawa could see his red face. “I got your bed all set up and clean; however, you should really get some fluids and food in you before sleeping. How’s your stomach?”

“Surprisingly well.” Serizawa sat up a bit against the pillows, rubbing at his gut. The only pain there now was from hunger. “I’d like to try eating.”

“Good!”

Reigen turned toward the kitchen. The sounds of clacking plates and pouring liquids could be heard. Though still unable to smell, Serizawa remembered all the fresh vegetables and licked his lips, stomach complaining right along with his brain. The last time he had anything stay down must have been over two days ago, and that had been instant noodles.

“Tada!” Reigen knelt down with a tray, revealing its contents with a flourish of his hand. “Happy Birthday!”

A few lit candles were stuck in some peanut butter plopped between plain, salted crackers. Right next by sat a bowl of steaming soup with some fancy fishcakes floating amid chunks of vegetables and noodles. Reigen had even decorated the plate with shiny paper and crude origami animals he must have practiced just before coming over.

“Well- it’s not a proper cake and everything.” Reigen was grinning down but avoiding eye contact. “But you probably shouldn’t be eating that kind of stuff anyway. Not in your state.”

Serizawa felt warmth against his belly as the tray was placed down. He took up the spoon after a long inhale at the vapors trailing up. For a moment he could smell a bit of spices but mainly just basked in the pleasant sensation of it all.

“It’s wonderful, Reigen-san.”

A quick huff and smoke now rose from the small, colorful candles.

“Did you make a wish?”

Serizawa looked over the decorated tray of food again before glancing up at his boss hovering over him.

“Yeah.” He smiled warmly. “Hope it comes true soon.”

Reigen rubbed the back of his head, turning to look back at the kitchen.

“Oh! I forgot the tea!”

Reigen returned with a mug and set it at the side table. Beaming, he sat down at the opposite table waiting for a response. Serizawa started with a few spoonfuls of broth but soon went straight for some carrots and noodles with some of the fish cakes. The crackers were a bit annoying to chew compared to the steamed vegetables so he had only few, making sure to get his protein in with the peanut butter. After only five minutes, the bowl was empty along with the tray and the tea half gone.

Serizawa let out a pleased sigh. Not a stomach cramp in sight. Now full of food, he started to feel even wearier. He closed his eyes for a moment as Reigen cleaned up the dishes and returned.

“Ha. Guess you’re ready for a good rest.” Reigen held down his hand in offering. “Come on, I’ll help you over.”

There was a mild struggle to get Serizawa’s legs cooperating again until they settled on Reigen bending down a bit with the larger man’s arm slung over shoulders and neck like a drunk being escorted home. Serizawa still felt the annoying spells of dizziness so the going remained slow. Suddenly he froze, covering his mouth after letting out a weak cough.

“Reigen-san!”

Reigen looked up. “Crap, you ok? Don’t have to puke or anything?”

“N-no!” Serizawa pulled back but still couldn’t support his own weight. “I just realized! I’m going to get you sick too!” He turned his head away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Heh.” A nudge from Reigen’s arm. “Why do you think I closed the office? And brought so much food and medication? And that soup’s not going anywhere. Made about two day’s worth. Plus snacks.”

Serizawa kept his hand over his mouth. “Reigen-san.”

“Come on.” Reigen forged ahead. “You need your rest to get any better.”

There was already a bit of swelling in the man’s eyes with some minor sniffles between words. Serizawa flopped into the bed, rolling onto his back now as sore and tired as he’d ever been, yet sated with nutrients and medication garnering a feeling of a coming recovery instead of more suffering. Reigen fluffed up the pillows before bringing the blankets up while he failed to suppress a cough.

“There we go. All tucked in.”

Serizawa watched his boss smile. Reigen was still leaning down, hand feeling against his employee’s neck and forehead again. Nerves danced sleepily at the touch and Serizawa felt a flutter in his hands and chest.

“Fever still feels down.” Reigen started to pull his fingers away. “Need anything else?”

Serizawa took the hand, keeping it just above his face. His grip was light around the wrist while he slowly pulled his boss closer, eyes flicking up to meet flush cheeks and a shocked yet willing expression.

“Wh- you alright?”

Another arm reached out, trembling fingers lingering inches from the back of Reigen’s neck before resting there, waiting. Serizawa could feel Reigen giving into the suggestion, leaning ever closer. Their eyes closed and their lips met; the hand in Serizawa’s grip twitching as he’d force himself forward, wanting more, only to be pushed back with the same need. A gentle caress at his face, the bed creaking when Reigen supported himself with a knee. His taste came back along with being able to smell: a mix of Reigen’s cheap cologne and his heated, desperate breathes. After a few moments they separated, faces still close, both quivering from the sensation.

“Ha. Haa.” Breathing hard, Reigen appeared exhausted, still leaning down with his knee and arm keeping him from collapsing.

“Arataka?”

A sneeze, Reigen turning his head away before he suffered through a brief coughing fit. When he looked back his face was beet red.

“Well. That’s one way to get inoculated.” His entire form was tense, showing in the edges of his smile. “Guess I’m staying here for a few days.”

He stepped back, eyes darting from side to side while stealing glances at Serizawa lying on the bed. Normally animated hands now sat still with one slowly rising to grip his chest no doubt feeling the heart there beating frantically.

Serizawa let out a chuckle before holding up the blanket. “Wanna join me? He found himself saying. “It’s warm, and the couch is pretty uncomfortable.”

Now one of Reigen’s hands was rubbing against his face. “Yes.” He whispered. “Let me take some cough syrup first.”

He downed a cup like a nervous bachelor at a party. Time moved in slow motion as Reigen crawled over Serizawa, settling in against the wall with part of his body resting on the man he had just cared for. A pleasant weight as they laid there, breathing gradually slowing in each other’s arms. Serizawa’s entire body was soaked in bliss from his heart to his stomach, all dancing together. He had started to drift off before feeling Reigen snuggling his shoulder and neck. Never having someone with him in bed before, he was content with cuddling until falling asleep. Still, he knew the illness would hit the worst in a few days and turned, pulling his boss closer.

“Come here.” Serizawa made sure the blanket was fully wrapped around them both. He blushed when Reigen buried his face in his chest. “Thank you for coming over. I’m starting to feel better already.” His hand pet through Reigen’s hair. “Guess I’ll have to take care of you now.”

A few muffled words, Reigen refusing to show his face, but the initial tense muscles had melted away to happy acceptance. Serizawa left it at that, closing his eyes and drifting towards sleep while wreathed in the warm and comfort of another’s hold. Before his brain fully committed he heard Reigen’s voice against his chest.

“Happy Birthday, Katsuya.”

#serizawaweek2024 #dimple has a new hobby #mp100 #fan fic #mp100 fan fic #serizawa katsuya #reigen arakata #serirei #reigen slaps his bag #THIS FUCKER CAN FIT SO MUCH COMFORT IN IT #he got the good stuff #like that cough syrup that makes you pass our for 6 hours #and real anti stomach issues like quality

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