#dawn's fur babies

[iloveyanderes]

Yandere idea but longer: warning mature and sexual themes

Imagine a darling that is like gorou or tighnari and has animal ears and tail. Everyone consistently teases them, most of the genshin characters would think of darling as a pet, not a human being. They baby darling and infantilize them to the absolute max.

In mondstadt darling would probably have the most freedom, though you do have to worry about albedo trying to turn you into a in actual animal so he can trap you and pet your ears whenever he wants. Kaeya would constantly tease you and surprise attack you ears and tail whenever you least expect it. Jean and Lisa make sure you never have to work and all of your needs are taken care of like your their dog. Diluc is probably going to trap you in the dawn winery and keep you as a house pet. Pray you have cat features so venti can't go anywhere near you, in a way he is worse then kaeya never leaving you alone, your best bet is diona as she'll take you under her wing.

Liyue would be a financial nightmare for darling, you've got the Richie's like ningguang,Childe, and yelan constantly trying to convince you to wear a collar, ningguang constantly send you gold and diamonds while Childe and yelan may or may not consistently hire treasure borders to kidnap you so they can show up last minute to save you and appear like a hero. Xiao would probably not kidnap you but he would watch you at all time, anytime you try to leave liyue he's suddenly their. For zhongli it really depends if it's morax or current day zhongli. Morax would most likely trap you underground and pet your ears while he's In a meeting with the adepti, Zhongli would probably just blackmail you to lay with him as he monologues about random stories. Baizhu would probably drug you and then inspect your ears for hours.

Now for inazuma, how inazuma I've got the biggest brainrots for this ever and it all comes down to one single man: ayato. This bish is a sadist, gentleman, and Infantilizing person ever. Bro would never talk to you as if you were a human, to him your a pet and he's going to make sure you never think of yourself human again. Have fun being punished whenever you try to speak English, being forced to eat straight from a bowl with your hands tied behind you back, he'll love to push all of your sensitive spots until your nothing but a whining mess as he mercilessly scratches your ears. Yae Miko would probably be the second worst in inazuma despite being somewhat of an animal herself she would still find a way to tease you, maybe pulling another miss hina with you and blackmailing you into going to one of her "fun" public events, where you ears and tail definitely don't get groped by people. Thoma would probably be the best, he would constantly want to brush your hair/fur all the time and bath you, he loves animals so it be amazing. Ayaka would keep you as a handmaid while secretly making you play pet and master behind doors. I really can't think about anything for kokomi but for gorou he would take you as a mate and protect you with his life. Heizou would also be a big tease, he would also make sure small crimes get pinned on you just so he could "interrogate" you and tease yourself until you pass out. Itto would drag you to places and shinobu would probably take pity on you, helping you escape. Ei would drag you to her place and keep you their forever.

In sumeru tighnari would be like gorou but he would never let you out of the house and to collei you would be like an emotional support animal you always calm her down, al-haithem would monopolize all of your time and kaveh would love to dress you up, kind of like how people put outfits on dogs. Cyno would probably share you with tighnari and get really angry whenever al-haithem comes within a 100 mile radius of you. Nahida would be platonic and think of you like a childhood pet. Nilou would make dances dedicated to you and raise money to get you things. Candace and deyha would also team up to keep you in the desert and basically work together for everything.

Bonus:

Beidou, kazuha, and her crew: your officially the cabins pet, people are allowed to pet your ears and brush your tail whenever they want. People play card games to see who gets you the night but most often beidou or kazuha win. Beidou likes to baby talk you while kazuha uses you as a muse for his poems.

Harbingers (not Childe, pierro, captino or puncellia sorry if I spelt it wrong )

Dottore would experiment on you all the time and find ways to morph your human mind into an animal one.

Columbina would sing you to sleep and pet your ears, placing little clips in your hair, don't you dare get up from her lap when's she's singing, bad things will happen.

Arlecchino is automatically your mistress, you follow her orders or else. Anytime you disobey she'll swap you on the bottom with a whip, she mainly makes you take care of orphans and if you ever take off the collar she gave you bad things will happen.

Scaramouche, fatui scaramouche would torture you endlessly with electricity and humiliate you, wanderer would be clingy as heck never letting you be alone or leave.

Sandrome would most likely turn you into a puppet or make puppets of you, don't piss her off she had a bad temper

Signoria would automatically hide you in a house, she's like arlecchino in the way that she's your mistress but unlike arlecchino she never lets you do anything, your only job is to be like a pet and pay on her lap as she does business.

Pantalone would spend billions on you, making sure your clothes were expensive, you haven't worn anything but still for years, he's also very monopolizing, paying people lots to stay away from you and set the two of you up.

Sorry I didn't do all of the harbingers, Pierro and puncellia are to old for me, I really don't feel capitano, and I did Childe in the liyue one.

#genshin impact #genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere ayato #yandere fatui #yandere thoma #yandere diluc #yandere Xiao #yandere venti #yandere tighnari #yandere cyno #yandere al-haithem #yandere arlecchino #yandere yae miko #yandere heizou #yandere gorou #yandere albedo #yandere ei #yandere scaramouche

[youareunbearable]

Its late and im tired so please excuse if this doesn't make sense but lately, I've been thinking about Angry Aredhel must have been

Like realistically, when has this woman made a single decision about her future for herself, and in the few times when she did, when did it not end in tragedy

She must have been so angry, so frustrated and wrathful at her lot in life. She was meant for other things, greater thing! She was a disciple of Orome, the Maiden in White, one of the best hunters in his group along with her cousin.

Yet here she is, caged and trapped like a pretty little canary in a wire house. Stolen from her purpose because of her eldest brother's blind loyalty, her father's stubborn pride, her second oldest brother's blinding grief, and her baby brother's terminal bravery. She's across an ocean, escaped one cage for another by her tormentor and abuser posing as a husband.

The bastard won't even name their child.

She must have be so angry, stuck in that endless darkness, the forest must be such a familiar landscape but so different, twisted and wrong like looking into a warped mirror.

Shes grieving outside her "home" one night, having managed to convince the trees to part their branches just enough that she can glimpse a star or two so she can bask in the starlight. Its been a year since the birth of her son, and nothing has changed. Eol won't look at the boy, and she can feel herself drifting. Without the ability to see the passage of time, without the Light of the Trees or with the Sun and Moon chasing each other across the sky, things are blending together and she feels adrift.

At least when they crossed they ice, they were able to watch the stars move across the endless dark.

The starlight warms her skin, as weak and distant as it is, so she basks. With her eyes closed and face tilted up she feels like a lizard in the mid day sun. Behind her, she hears a noise, a twig being deliberately stepped upon. Aredhel whips around, raising her glowing lichen lamp, wondering if its her husband or one of his servants come to take her back. She feels a little feral at the idea of being dragged away from the pitiful starlight.

A wolf, with a pelt as crisp and clean as the snow dusting Himring's mountain top, slinks into the soft glow. Its fur takes on an almost sickly colour in the green luminescence. The wolf settles at the edge of the light, resting on its haunches as it observes her.

Aredhel thinks she's beautiful, for it is a female wolf. Even in the weak lamplight the beast's silver eyes seem to glow on their own, piercing her very fea and enticing her to come forward, to come closer. There is a power within the she wolf, one Aredhel craves.

The white beast introduces herself as a member of Orome's hunt, and Aredhel believes it, for the she wolf looks like the perfect hunter. The wolf asks her what she, as a fellow hunter, is doing out so far away from her kin and cub.

Momentarily surprised by the ability to speak, for not even Huan can speak so freely, Aredhel responses. She shares her desire for light, her frustration with her "husband," and how she wants a different life for her son. She never wanted this, and she wishes she had the ability to take control of her own fate.

The wolf is sympathetic to her plights, and offers to help her free herself and her child.

"You do have the ability to change your own fate, young one. Asking for help is something no one else could have done for you."

So Aredhel leads the wolf back to Eol's house. They walk through the entry way, both hunters are silent as the dawn as they go. Aredhel heads towards the master bedroom, but hesitates at the door. She can see Eol on his side of their bed, snoring lightly as he does. She hesitates, seeing a vision of what will happen once he realizes she's gone. Fire, doom and death follows her, poison and a flash of fang would flicker in him before he strikes her down for disobedience, for stealing away the son he won't even name.

The wolf nudges her aside, ghosting past her into the room. Aredhel's throat closes up and she slinks away, heading towards Lomion's nursery. She leaves to go strap her sleeping infant son to her chest, then grabs some supplies from the kitchen in a bag. Not even hearing a mouse skittering in the walls, let alone her wolf companion, she steels her nerves to check the master bedroom one more time.

As she passes her bedroom, she can see through a crack in the door and her breath freezes. Standing over the now corpse of her husband, maw dripping red from the freshly torn out throat, the white wolf looms. Aredhel stares transfixed, she can almost taste the blood between her own teeth, feel the rush of the kill, ache of her gums as tendons and tissue would rub against them. The wolf turns to look at her, silver eyes wild, white fur stained with her kill. Aredhel feels the air return to her lungs, she feels lighter and free, a little giggle slips past her lips and the wolf peels back its lips and bares its dripping fangs in a smile.

Aredhel leaves the house, fleeing on foot and all the while she can hear the wolf following her, keeping pace and shadowing her in the darkness, and at some points, ahead of her, leading her out of the woods. Running like this, oh she hasn't done this in years!. The wind snapping at her hair, branches and leaves kissing her cheeks and arms, the rush of a completed hunt with another one ahead of her feels like her first real breath in a long time. It feels like days later, and seconds, heartbeats, when she can see the treeline, dawn's hazy reddish glow peaking through the trees.

Aredhel gives a joyful cry and runs faster. That laughter bubbling up inside of her finally bursts past her lips once she breaks the treeline. The sun on her skin is warm and bright and all she wants to do is laugh and cry and scream until her throat is raw and her tears run dry. But she has to keep moving, she has Lomion still with her, and she is too close to the woods to feel truly safe yet. She walks north, and east, not really knowing where she's heading but knowing that she'll cross into her cousins' land soon. As she walks, she soon realizes that she hasn't seen or heard from her she wolf in a while. Stopping, Aredhel turns to look back, but no where can she see that brilliant white coat, or any tracks that look like wolf paws. She squint, looking back at the distant treeline and sees nothing but shadow. She mourns for her companion, wishing she could have wished her well or at least thanked her for her help. She wonders if Orome set the wolf to free her, not wanting to see one of his hunters in chains.

Its about mid morning when she comes across some of her cousins men, and they're horrified. They ask if she's ok, of she's hurt, they take her to a nearby stream even though she insists she's fine, that she wants to see her cousins.

When she sees her reflection she's scared for a moment. All she can see it blood, dried and crusted down her throat, staining her lips and chin. There is red all along the collar of her white dress, her sleeves, but her hands are clean, and so is her son still asleep strapped across her chest. She looks into her reflection, not yet comprehending. Silver eyes that seem so familiar stare back above the red, above the proof of her freedom.

She bares her bloody teeth in smile.

#Aredhel #silm #silmarillion #Maeglin #i think it would hot if Aredhel pulled a finrod and ripped out eols throat #with her bare teeth like Yes Please Queen Slay lmao #Celegorm is so proud when he finds out like Lmao Still Got It Cuz!!!!! and a bonus new free nephew!!!! #Curufin is disgusted he is related to these ppl but also is supportive of Aredhel going ape shit like she deserves #she chipped some of her teeth on thr bite so like the loving cousin he is curufin makes her mithril fangs #maedhros screams into his hands when he finds out but is also proud. so is fingon! thats his Baby Sister!!! #Lomion grows up Normal and Loved and Nolo adores him and is glad to have a sensible heir for when #fingon inevitability leaves them to marry Maedhros. whenever they get around to it.

[killjae]

leon catdad fluff cause he’s such a cutiepie, this is for you anon!! i hope you see this :3

this is also my second fic, so please enjoy!! special tags :3 @wriosmilk @scorpiolara

ribbon border made by @cherubify !!!

ermm sweet sickle leon, praise and appreciation, catdad leon!!! you’re surrounded in lovebites!!!!!

it was storming outside, the light pitter patter of rain hitting your windowpanes continuously. the sound of thunder booming every now and then, despite the fact you were huddled under a blanket trying to keep yourself warm while watching a movie.

a ring could be heard from your doorbell as it chimed loudly, the sudden noise making you turn your head towards the door and get up.

your soft footsteps making their way across the floor before your hand reached the doorknob and opened it to a small soaked cardboard box with a wet piece of paper attached to it.

what? who would leave this here? you questioned yourself, unsure of what lies inside of the mysterious box. the thought lingering in your head as you carefully peaked over, the sound of rain filling your ears as it was pouring down outside.

there was no one to be found, who could have done this?

a small mew comes out and startles you. what? it was an animal inside, left out in the rain.

you leaned over and opened the box to find a small calico cat, it was soaked with water and mud in it’s fur as it stared up at you. poor thing. you quickly moved to take it inside despite the water leaving a trail as you brought the box inside along with the note attached.

it read. “i’m giving this cat up for adoption, as i cannot hold another one. i don’t have much time left to foster anymore animals so i’ve been sending them out to be adopted by other loving homes. please take care of her, she’s very loving and energetic when you get to know her.”

the feeling after reading the soggy paper left you with a frown and a feeling of sorrow as you looked down at the kitten once again, another meow could be heard.

you grabbed the kitten despite the mud, fleas and murky water coating your hands before bringing her over to a small bowl and filling it with warm water.

giving her a small dawn-soaped bath getting all the fleas and dirt off of her tiny body as she mewled and whined out, not yet used to the feeling of this new warmth.

she was a beautiful calico cat with a brown heart birthmark on her left cheek, almost reminding you of leon with the way you smiled at her. you wrapped her in a small blanket to keep her warm before calling leon, holding the phone to your ear as you rubbed both her sides in the blanket to warm her up faster.

“i-i found this kitten outside left in a cardboard box, with a note about her owner having a limited time left on this earth. i know you said you wouldn’t want a pet, let alone a cat, but she needs us—“

“…are you kidding? you know i’m not very fond of cats.”

“—leon, come on. she’s a baby, she looks barely 4 years old. plus, i kinda gave her a bath and everything, including the flea treatment and now i just have to get some formula that would be good for her to feed on till she gets big enough on her own.”

“..i’m coming home now.”

“don’t be mad, okay? she’s really cute.”

it wasn’t until twenty minutes later you heard the front door open and leon was taking his work boots off and his uniform before leaving himself in a tanktop and his workpants. you were sitting on the couch, keeping the kitten in your lap as she snuggled into your embrace.

“so, where is she?” leon’s booming voice came from behind as he moved from the side of the couch to sit next to you, his eyes instantly going to the small animal sitting in your embrace.

he lightly gasped seeing her fur pattern and genes before leaning closer to her. “..she’s pretty. you said someone left her on our porch? what a shame they can’t take care of anymore but that doesn’t mean we can foster her.”

“leon. she’s just a baby, a kitten literally. why can’t we keep her?” you tilted your head with a frown, looking at him before he huffed.

“we have to get her spayed, her check-ups, and going to the vet.. that’s a lot, plus YOU like her, i’m not into cats like that.” leon gave you a look, although secretly he was considering the possibilities of keeping the kitten.

“i’ll handle all of that, she’s gonna be my baby. she’s gorgeous and such a beautiful breed.” you smiled, lightly petting the kitten’s fur as she yawned before closing her eyes.

“are you sure? i still think we shouldn’t, and we should wait to get a bigger house.” leon spoke, as he crossed his arms.

little did he know.

months later you three are staying at home on a saturday as he’s throwing a squeaky mouse for your cat to catch. you ended up naming her miri, despite leon’s protest on not keeping her. he protested for a long 12 months, eventually coming to like miri.

“you’re a reall, pretty girl. a good one too, you really like this mouse, huh?” leon chuckled as he watched miri repeatedly chase it with excitement.

you stared at the two of them with a smile, remembering how leon went against keeping her a year ago when she was left on your front porch in the soaking wet rain. that stormy night, you’ll never forget the staying up late and having to change schedules because you two were new cat parents.

“shut up, okay? i know what you’re thinking of. i didn’t realize she’s not that bad and she’s actually pretty adorable.” leon spoke out of nowhere as miri was on his shoulder, nibbling his earlobe and slow blinking to signal she was really comfortable around the two of you.

leon felt a sense of pride and achievement in his life, being a catdad despite his previous attitude in the past.

he was happy to have two beautiful girls in his life that he would die for.

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #fluff #cute #cat dad

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲

Bucky had always been an early riser, you knew this from the very beginning, only this time, there was a surprise in store. No amount of coffee could prepare you for it, either. 

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☘︎ Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☘︎ 660

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☘︎ Fluff, heavily implied smut

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ☘︎ This is leading up to something... *runs*

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ☘︎ @pupandkisasaesthetics Aesthetic Challenge —  Masterlist

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The morning air was crisp with the waning cold of winter, and you shivered while the sound of an axe hitting the solid mass of Bucky’s splitting station accompanied the whistle of the old-fashioned kettle.

It was a slow morning, as was every Sunday in the Barnes’ household. Bucky had woken up at the crack of dawn with the promise to be back later, “I won’t be long, bunny, ‘kay?” he mumbled before kissing your shoulder and shuffling out of bed, not to be seen again. 

You replied with some mumbled ascent and promptly fell back asleep, that was until you heard the solid thump, thump, thump of split pieces of wood hitting the snow packed ground, and the low grunts of effort that left Bucky’s lips on every swing of his axe. 

That was how you ended up in the small kitchen of the cabin, protected from the cold by a warm, fluffy gown and matching slippers while you waited for the blessing that was caffeine. 

Sarge was nowhere to be seen and Koda sat at your feet, her mouth open in a doggish-smile while she waited for the possibility of a treat. “Maybe later, baby girl,” you murmured around a yawn. 

Koda let out a small huff and trotted away towards the front door. “Yeah, I’ll let you out,” you called after her just as another thump of the axe sounded. “How can he do that this damn early…”

The coffee finally made and in two steaming mugs, you trudged to the front door and looked out into the sprawling yard – snow covered the ground, soft after the fresh fall overnight and piled in places where neither Bucky nor you walked through often, and Sarge had made a home on one of the latter, his tail wagging at a fever pitch that made snow fly behind him. 

You opened the door with your hip and Koda bolted past you, her brown fur flying with the inertia of a dog that had felt so wronged by staying inside. 

“Koda! Girl–what’re you doin’?” Bucky called, looking up from his station. “I told you to wait for- Oh, hey, sweetheart.”

“Morning, James,” you chuckled. The brunette wandered over and took your offered mug with a grateful smile. “Why and how you can do this so damn early…” A sip of your coffee made you sigh with contentment – the rich and earthy tone of the blend perfectly palatable. “It never fails to shock me. You had a perfectly cosy, comfortable, and warm bed to stay in.”

Bucky laughed. “Is that so, Clover? Maybe you can convince me to stay next time, yeah?”

“There are plenty of ways to keep warm other than firewood,” you said simply, staring into Bucky’s face for a reaction. 

You weren’t disappointed. 

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” Bucky sighed, his neck turning pink with your insinuation. “Say less next time.” 

“No,” you said, poking his chest with your index finger. Bucky raised a brow in challenge. “It seems you need to be explicitly told that there are other ways I would rather wake up than you swinging your axe next to our bedroom window and grunting. Got it?”

Bucky held his hands out in surrender, but there was a glint of something in his bright eyes that made you smirk. “Deal.” He leant in closer under the guise of kissing you on the forehead, but the next thing you heard was, “I’d rather be grunting from fuckin’ you up the mattress while you whine and cry for more–pretty sure my bunny would wanna be woken up with her cock, wouldn’t she?”

“James Barnes!” you spluttered, your coffee almost sloshing out of your cup as you jerked back in surprise. “What the fuck was that?”

“A promise,” he replied simply, a wink sent your way before he turned back to his station. “Keep it in mind, sweetheart–’cos the next time you say shit like that to me, you’re gonna regret it.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fluff #pup&kisasaestheticchallenge #rookthorne's works

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Your Love, Like Birth and Death

cw. jjk faerie au, banshee!reader (she/her pronouns, afab), seelie prince!gojou, mutual pining but gojou's love is heavier, descriptions of blood and injuries

pairing. gojou x reader

notes. i should be working on the unseelie lord toji fic but this concept is still wracking my brain so y'all are getting this right now instead. lovesick faerie prince gojou for you, you and you! (also, spot the furuba and mirai nikki references lol.)

This Court is dyed in the colors of Life, you note this particular morning.

Of course, this is something you’ve noted every morning since you’d been brought to this palace nearly a month ago. Yet you aren’t tired of noting it.

The Court you have found yourself in is beautiful. From the ledge you lean against, it almost feels like you can see everything in Faerie.

You see the royal gardens, a mass of long grasses and moss dotted by colorful wild blooms. Overgrown and yet each flower seems right where it is supposed to be.

Beyond the walls of the castle, you see stretches and stretches of blue spruces and just beyond that a lake that almost seems purple. If this were a palace in Unseelie territory, you might have thought a kelpie lived in it.

Across the courtyard, souls living and deceased move as if in a dance. The living with their duties for the day, unaware of their ghoulish companions drifting about. Some have the ever permanent dribble of poisoned wines falling from their lips, others' have blood seeping into their clothes from their torsos and others are missing limbs although they find no difficult in moving.

The sight of death faeries is one that gruesome. A mixture of life and death, the path you folk walk on until you return to nothing.

Neat yet unkempt, wild yet tame, expected yet unexpected ー that is the beauty of Faerie you’ve grown accustomed to in the centuries since your creation.

A beauty you rarely have the opportunity to appreciate when you often find yourself in the realm of humans, heralding death.

You wonder how much time has passed there since you’ve come to the Court of Reckoning. All while the skies have lost the traces of violet, peach and marigold that painted the dawn skies and have begun settling into a lovely shade of pastel blue. 

“I see I’ve finally found you,” when you look over your shoulder, it’s one of the prince’s advisors that greets you. The one with the long raven-black hair and brown eyes that remind you of humus-rich soil. You see the makings of a black tail with a tuft of fur peeking from his cloak and believe him to be some sort of phouka. “I almost thought for a moment our honored guest had disappeared,” his voice is light and airy, but he seems relieved to an extent. “I’m glad my concerns were proven untrue. Satoru would be quite unmanageable if that were the case.”

You shake your head, smiling politely, “I enjoy watching dawn turn into morning.” You look at the large bouquet in the phouka’s hands ー an assortment of lavender roses, baby’s breath and ferns.

“Our prince is too busy to deliver these himself this morning,” Suguru explains once they’ve caught your eye. You make sure to not let your fingers brush against one another when you reach for the blooms carefully. “Love at first sight, purity and fascination it is supposed to symbolize,” the advisor recounts the meaning of each bloom dutifully. He’s exasperated, you can tell. “Do you like them?”

“Yes, they’re quite lovely,” you believe so truly. Everyday since your arrival to the palace, the prince has had bouquet after bouquet gifted to you. Even if he cannot deliver them himself. “As were the rest I’ve received.”

“I’ve never seen Satoru so smitten,” you avoid the phouka’s gaze. “You should have met him when we were younger. He was adamant that he’d never be besotted with anyone lest he become a fool.” There’s a light pause as Suguru recalls the evening Satoru brought you to this palace. You who are cloaked in death and all of her colors. “Look at him now. He’s certainly caused a stir in his insistence you’ll be his queen. He’s a charming fool, though, I am sure.”

You prefer to think of the prince as a ridiculous fool but you cannot deny that he is charming. Dangerously so. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought him to be a gancanagh, a love-talker.

“Please marry me,” came the soft request as sky blue eyes stared into your very being. “And I’ll love you more faithfully than any man, fae or otherwise.”

You try not to remember the way your chest clenched in surprise. How you were so surprised it almost felt like your skin had warmed. It’s best not to focus on that memory at all.

It’s a ridiculous notion, a seelie prince in love with a banshee.

“The prince is simply confusing gratitude with love,” you return Suguru’s gaze with a polite smile. You hope he believes you. “He’ll realize that soon and I will leave this place.” You know that will bring palace staff a great sense of peace. If there is one thing you’ve learned in your long life as a banshee it is that even if the Folk spurn mortals and their blink-of-an-eye lifespans, there are many things faeries and humans have in common.

A fear of death is certainly one of them.

As such, to the vast majority of faeriekind, Death Folk like yourself are not looked upon favorably. Banshee and dullahans alike, you’re more like pests in their eyes. 

You banshee women who scream and keen if death is near. 

The dullahans who hear those screams and arrive when that final hour has approached.

Yes, you know how death fae are viewed. You’ve heard the whispers in the palace, how you are an omen of malevolence to come. That your kind are like roaches. Should one appear, others will soon follow suit.

This is why you’ve come to appreciate this private ledge on the castle walls that receives less foot traffic than the rest. You’d rather the staff of the palace have peace of mind in your absence while you live in the palace even if their prince insists you can venture the halls as much as you’d like.

Once the promised revel he hopes to throw in your honor comes to pass, you know the prince will lose his interest in you. Then you will leave and continue about your existence until you fade into nothing but a vague memory in his subconscious.

That's what you truly hope when you see the prince in question later on in the day for lunch in the garden.

How his eyes light up and he stands to his feet as Cypress, a lovely pixie tasked with being your attendant, announces your arrival. How he doesn't even wait for you to reach the table before he comes to meet you. You are unused to being treated like royalty and yet their prince insists that you are. "You won't believe how the old hags go on and on," he sighs, remnants of annoyance dancing in his tone but his voice is soft with you. Cypress takes the dismissal in stride. "I couldn't even come see you for breakfast. Did you like the flowers?"

He wraps your hands in his own large palms, seemingly unaffected by your corpse-cold skin, as he has done every time you've met since your arrival. "Yes, they were beautiful," your smile is small and doesn't quite reach your eyes. You hope this ridiculous yet charming fool realizes that loving one such as yourself is more trouble than good. That his love truly is just misplaced gratitude. "You really don't have to send me flowers every morning."

The prince disregards your words the way water rolls off the back of a duck, "next time I'll bring you the flowers myself." He guides you to the table filled to the brim with food you aren't accustomed to eating. "Will you tell me your favorites finally? I've been going out on a limb with my guesses."

"My tastes in flowers are unique, to say the least," maybe it's your nature, but your favorites tend to circle around the prevailing theme of your kind. Lavender to give the dead peace in passing on, calendula for blessing and love. Dandelions in the seed head stage were quite popular with ghost children, still finding them just as amusing as they did when they were alive. "The flowers you send me are more than enough." The prince pouts but he decides to let you skirt around his request once more. You bring focus back to the spread, "it looks like you've demanded everything in the kitchen."

There are strawberry-and-whipped cream filled pastries, cold cut platters and buttery biscuits to name a few things. The tip of the iceberg of everything on the table.

"I wanted to make sure our bases were covered," the prince grins, teeth as white as his hair. "I hope you like lavender chamomile, that's today's tea. I've never had it before." He drops cube after cube of sugar into his cup, drizzles the contents with honey before finally pouring in a splash of cream.

You take your tea plain and enjoy the gentle fragrance. Lavender buds are just barely visible below the tea's surface. You close your eyes as the flavor hits your tongue. It tastes as wonderful as it smells. "Yes, this is quite nice. I really like it."

"Should we have it for tomorrow as well?" He's too eager to curry your favor.

You open your eyes to dissuade him but your attention is instead drawn to a headless hob nearing your table. You've seen this hob before, skirting about the palace bitterly as he carries his head in his hands much like a dullahan. He's old, even by fae standards, with a long beard. There's no question as to how the man died, beheading. You hope it was quick.

His beady eyes glare at you with a quiet rage similar to how most fae spirits do. You wonder how long he has been like this, refusing to board the carriage of any dullahan that may come to collect him and bring him to the Otherworld.

You personally believe that faeries leave behind ghosts more than humans do.

It's why you've often seen ghosts from a distance at revels, dancing from dawn til dusk even if they will not be perceived by the living. Even if they can no longer don the fancy dresswear they were able to dress in.

Time and time again, they will do this. Staunchly refusing death even after they're already in its hold.

"Oh, is there a ghost with us?" The prince notes how your eyes dart between him and the space he perceives as empty. "What's it saying?"

"Tell this lout that I sooner hope his rule is contemptuous and brings the Court to ruin!" The hob's head seethes. "That his many days are fraught with danger! Gakuganji is my name and this is the curse I cast upon him!"

Folk can't lie, but you you prefer not to relay the bitter message. "He hopes your rule is one that is," you lick your lips and raise your cup to your lips. "Filled with exciting thrills," not an exact lie. Perhaps to this radical prince, those sorts of threats are exciting. "He says his name is Gakuganji."

"Exciting thrills, you say?" The prince barks in amusement, shoulders shaking with his laughter. "That doesn't sound like the traitorous scoundrel I know. You don't have to lie, he's probably cursing me and my bloodline for generations to come as we speak." The hob growls at the lackadaisical nonchalance of the elf. But it seems he has had his fill as he stomps off before he can hear more insult to his person.

"Gakuganji has lost his touch even in death," the prince's amused chuckles turn into light sighs "You wouldn't have liked him very much when he was alive," you're sure you can agree with that much of the prince's words. Gakuganji, as you now know him, has been one of the more unpleasant spirits in the palace. "He was very stuck in his ways. What's it like, seeing ghosts all the time?"

Normal?

You can't quite remember what it was like when you were a newly-made banshee and everything was new. Nor can you remember the life you once led as a human. You simply remember your death was a terrible, terrible thing. "It's as normal to me as it's normal for you not to see them," you set your cup down. "If someone asked you what's it like to see the blue sky everyday, it would be a strange question, correct?"

The prince takes in your words thoughtfully, not slighted in the least. "I guess that's true," he nods to himself. "I just wondered if it was something that took some getting used to." The prince removes his darkened spectacles from the bridge of his nose. "I told you before I have pretty good eyes. I'm able to perceive a lot of things no one else can from mana to the shape of one's soul. But the spirits of the deceased are exceptions to my eyes, it seems."

"Your Highness," you begin.

"Satoru," the prince corrects you swiftly.

"Your Highness," you insist. This boundary you won't cross for yourself. "I'm not sure it's really wise for you to tell me about your eyes. I'm not a member of this family or your closest allies."

"But you will be," he tells you as if he's simply remarking on how pleasant the weather is. "I will become king of this Court and you'll be by my side as my queen." You're quite sure that if his mother, the High Queen, has anything to say about it, she'd sooner relinquish her throne to a random nixie than allow a banshee to wed her son. "I trust you as much as I trust Suguru or Nanami."

You wish he wouldn't.

A Seelie prince and his banshee queen? That sounds like the start to a ballad meant to insult him.

It's misplaced gratitude, not love. That's what this prince feels for you. You tell him as such once again as you have everyday since you were brought here. "You'll realize that soon, maybe even before the revel you plan for me," you whisper ー no, you pray. "There will be another you yearn for and you'll realize the difference."

The prince will fall deeply, truly, unapologetically in love with someone and he'll discover the truth.

Perhaps it will be a lake maiden of Spring whose dreadlocks drip with water droplets that fall onto dewy cinnamon-brown skin. Who sings of the beautiful red and pink of the roses and of love.

Or maybe it will be a selkie man who doesn't mind living far from the sea as he's brought a love as deep as the ocean along with him. Whose coat is donned in scars and scratches from battles past, a reflection of his form as a seal.

Or maybe he can grow enraptured with his phouka advisor whom he trusts more than anyone in this life.

Someone dyed in Life's colors.

Someone beautiful.

When that time comes, you'll be happy for him. Maybe then the ache that resonates through your heart and bones will end.

The prince isn't the only fool here, you admit reluctantly. You're just as much, if not more so. But this feeling will come to pass, "this is just gratitude. Fascination. Not love."

"You think I don't love you?" The prince asks quietly, resting his chin on his palm as he looks at you. He says he has good eyes, he wonder what you look like to him through them. You who once was dyed in Life's colors but have since become painted over by Death's brush.

Death folk with death folk.

Life folk with life folk.

"I know you don't," he can't. You can't allow either of yourselves to do so. "A banshee by your side as queen," you want it sound ridiculous to both of your ears. "It's absurd."

There are no rules that state your union is forbidden, this you know. But the laws of nature are simple. Life and Death co-exist separately, unable to exist without one another. But there has never been a tale where the two joined together as one.

Maybe you're just too scared to be the first.

"I want the woman that I love by my side as queen," the prince replies smoothly. "Your species is of little importance to me. All that matters is that my love is returned in full. Please, allow me to be yours," he reaches for your hand once more, stepping out of his chair in favor of sitting on bended knee. "More than anyone has or ever will, I love you. This is an unwavering truth."

The blood of the love-talker must run through his veins. Why else do you feel like this? Your desire for this prince will eat away at you until you become undone and return to nothing. "You're a prince. It's the duty of the royal family to provide heirs," even the smallest sprite knows this to be fact. "Are you asking me to stay with you and have them?"

"Please have my children," azure stares seriously into your pale eyes that were once [color] when you were human.

Your skin feels warm at his unabashed request.

Gojou Satoru has no shame, that you have become sure of in the near month of knowing one another.

He had no shame when he asked you to be his bride when you first met.

There was no shame to be found when he insisted that you stay in the palace as an honored guest he owes his life to.

Nor is there any shame to be found in him now when he cups your cheek in his furnace hot hands to guide your lips down to his, long white lashes fluttering shut.

I shouldn't, your mind screeches at you. I shouldn't allow us to get even one millimeter closer. Yet you make no move to do so as your lips are just barely touching whenー

"Your Highness, your mother is requesting you," Nanami's mild-mannered drawl saves you at the last minute.

You jerk back into your chair in relief, heart pounding. You aren't able to make eye contact with anyone, least of all the overworked horned elf-kobold hybrid brought to receive the Gojou heir.

The prince clicks his tongue in annoyance, glaring over his shoulder at the advisor, "she can't wait? We haven't even begun eating yet."

Nanami looks just as annoyed to be there, "the faster you heed her call, the quicker you can go back to fawning after the object of your desires." He tells his prince. "And the faster I can get back to resting."

The prince with snow-white hair clicks his tongue once more, but he doesn't argue against it. He turns to you regretfully, "I'll have to leave again. Perhaps we'll have more time together at dinner," you hope the wait for dinner is longer still. You know the prince hopes the time passes as quickly as he can blink.

Warm lips press against the back of your hand, lingering for five seconds longer than they should.

The bones of your hands ache.

Extra:

Title comes from a Nizar Qabbani poem: [Your love / Oh you with fathomless eyes / Is extreme /mystic / holy / Your love, like birth and death / is impossible to repeat]

My favorite bit in this is having the reader refused to call Gojou by name even in the narrative dialogue, in a futile attempt to keep distance between you both. I hope you guys found that riveting as well

Part 2? Should there be one? Perhaps there should be... y'all let me know

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk faerie au #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #faeries #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x you #fair folk #mythology #i had a lot of fun writing this

[theold-ultraviolence]

Eddie Munson headcanons nobody asked for but they're jumping around in my brain like bunnies and I need to release them for my sanity

He's actually a very early riser. His body is full of energy so it naturally wakes him up at the crack of dawn. He gets up very early, fixes himself coffee and breakfast, and walks around his trailer doing everything and nothing. He steps out, soaks up the sun like an iguana, steps back inside.

He's a menace and wakes you up and brings you breakfast and he's so annoying about wanting to bang first thing in the morning, even when you haven't even finished eating or even registering the fact that you're awake. He doesn't care. But can you even deny him? When he's so, so warm, his body all soft, with that musky, cozy scent of the sheets clinging to him.

Until he crashes about an hour later. And then he wakes up around noon and does fuck all for the rest of the day.

He's actually a very good cook, contrary to popular belief. He's not working with the fanciest ingredients or tools, so by mere experimentation, he learns how to bring out the best flavors in his food, how to elevate even the simplest pasta or sandwich by adding just the right condiment and seasoning. Once he realizes he's good, and that he enjoys cooking, he spends many an afternoon just hypnotized by the food network, absorbing everything he can to try it out himself.

He has a crush on Tim Curry and Bruce Campbell. In fact, The Evil Dead franchise is his absolute favorite. But his love for Bruce Campbell is just something else. He once invited you to a date to the drive-in because he thought Bruce was in one of the movies, when he realized he wasn't, he spent all evening pouting like a petulant kid lol. When the Sam Raimi Spiderman movies come out, he JUMPS out of his seat at the movie theatre during the Bruce cameos.

He watches Headbanger's Ball on MTV. Like, don't disturb him when Headbanger's Ball is on, especially during the interview segments. Don't disturb him when Elvira's Movie Macabre is on either. And he's most definitely subscribed to Elvira's fan club mail.

On the morning of your birthday, he wakes you up by playing Can't Help Myself by Four Tops, dragging you out of bed to dance with you in the kitchen, as the smell of freshly prepared batter for waffles engulfs the space.

He has a tattoo on one of his thighs, of a pinup with angel wings (this is more self-indulgent and part of my own personal au lore lol)

He loves crafting with you. On valentine's day he prefers to avoid all the rush and traffic and crowded places, to stay inside with a good ole horror movie marathon, pizza, and just sit in the living room floor crafting like little kids, making paper cut-out hearts and cards.

His absolute favorite food ever is pizza, but he always has to order wings with it, too.

His guilty pleasure movie is Road House (1989).

In the 2000's, he's obsessed with Jack Black. It's like, his kindred spirit. And his favorite movies are School of Rock (obviously) and Tenacious D And The Pick of Destiny, which is his favorite movie to watch when he's stoned lol. But seriously, that movie ticks all the boxes for him.

I feel like at that point though, maybe he drifts in and out of several jobs, and it's School of Rock that truly makes him change his perspective on life, and he finds his calling. He's very moved by that movie, and it's what makes him pursue teaching music.

Still debating on whether he'd be into Nu Metal in the 2000's lol. He'd still be listening to the same music from his youth, and he'd gravitate towards bands like Avenged Sevefold and Bullet for My Valentine rather than more of the emo bands of the era. Like I feel like he must have gone to a couple of Warped Tours but by that point he was just too old for that.

He has a baby boy named Lemmy (like Lemmy from Motorhead), and by baby boy, I mean a Terrier Mix doggie with black fur that he adopted from the shelter when he was 9 months old.

Sometimes, when he struggles for cash, he's forced to sell some of his most prized vinyl records, which kills him, but he never wants to admit that he did that to you. He wants to be able to get by, however he can. When he makes a little bit more cash, he always invites you out on dates to the record store to replace the albums he sold. And you're always like, 'didn't you have this already?' and he gets all shy about it, and eventually confesses. It's always your pleasure to buy him the albums he sold to make him feel cherished.

He sometimes cries when he's making love just because he's just so overwhelmed with love and he feels so good. At first he thinks it's silly and he's super embarrassed by it until you ease his worries and kiss away his tears.

He loves to have his scalp scratched - loves laying on your chest to feel your arms and hands cradling his neck and the back of his head as you scratch and massage his scalp so he can fall asleep. (personal au lore, and for all my latinx girlies, you teach him that the slang term for having his head scratched is 'me haces piojito?' and he asks for that ALL the time, with his big doe eyes that you can't resist)

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson headcanons #headcanons #eddie munson hcs #stranger things #joseph quinn #my writing #personal au #eddie munson fanfiction

[generalhumancloudalmond]

Dawn

Platonic!Yandere!Capitano x Baby!Reader

Capitano had no family, but he had an army, which, one might say, replaced this very family for him. He was honored to devote all his time to fatui, to Tsaritza. And until today, such a arrangement of things completely suited him.

However, on the way home, he and the other fatui came across a small group of people, who returning to Mondstadt. Among the adventurers, merchants and ordinary people returning home, a woman with a very small child attracted the attention of the Capitano.

The first harbinger carefully looked into the tent, from where the baby's crying gradually subsided.

"Can I come in?"

For a second, the woman shuddered, but then smiled, giving consent. Fortunately for the first harbinger, and unfortunately for herself, she didn't treat Capitano with the same suspicion as the other mondstadters.

"I heard crying and thought something had happened."

"Oh... It's just my baby. The road is long and hard for Y/n. I'm sorry if it bothers you... And please speak a little lower."

The first harbinger nodded curtly, his gaze closely following the calming child.

"Do you want to hold it?"

Instead of answering, Capitano took exactly one unconscious step to meet your mother and held out his hands. Of course, the position of his hands was soon corrected, and the baby was carefully put in his hands.

The child's eyes immediately became wide open. The soft fur on the coat, the worn helmet on which the reflection is visible and the shiny black crystal immediately attracted the Y/n's attention. Small hands kept reaching out, now to one object, then to another. Capitano tried to stay calm, even though he was nervous, because the child began to crawl in his arms. Overpowering himself, harbinger brings the child a little closer and allows him to touch his helmet.

Hearing the baby whooping joyfully, Capitano can't do nothing but sighs with relief.

"You can pass Y/n to me if you tired..."

"No. It's fine."

Capitano responds too quickly and even a little sharply.

"I'm just holding a baby in my arms for the first time."

Capitano excuses himself when you suddenly pull his hair. Your mom immediately jumps up and starts apologizing, while the harbinger himself doesn't really reacts to such an action. He's just gently trying to unclench your hand and while he's doing it, he's really afraid to exert even a little force. Reluctantly, the harbinger returns you to your mother's arms and leaves the small tent after a couple of minutes.

Returning to the other fatui, he hears the mondstadters discussing tomorrow's return. They cheerfully imagine how they will get drunk on their return and what kind of celebration the Ragniver family will throw in honor of the birth of a child. For himself Capitano notes that they will move out on the afternoon, unlike him and other soldiers, who will begin their journey at dawn.

Capitano spent the rest of the day thinking. He reviewed the map and the route, and also asked some fatui about their experience of interacting with children, since most of them had their own families and it was not something unexpected for them, as for the Capitano. Someone taking care of their younger and older brothers and sisters, and someone is already have their children waiting them at home.

So, with help of his comrades it is possible to transfer such a small weak child to a Snezhnaya... Right?...

#reader #platonic yandere #yandere #platonic #platonic genshin impact #platonic yandere genshin #platonic yandere capitano #platonic capitano #yandere capitano

[plushieanimals]

hello!! i checked your faq and couldn't find this question, but you seem like the person who could answer it. when you acquire pre-loved or vintage plushies, how do you disinfect/wash them? especially beanie babies? like beyond spot cleaning

This turned into my masterpost of how to clean plushies! I also have a tag for plush care where i’ve answered asks about damaged fur, and brush recommendations + more!

How to wash and clean stuffed animals:

🧸 1. Prep! 🧸

I vacuum/lint roll the plush to get any stray hairs/dust/debris etc. I have a soft bristle brush attachment for my vacuum that i bought off amazon that i use exclusively for stuffed animals

I always hand wash my plushies when possible, but i’ve included a section on both spot cleaning for less dirty plush and machine washing under the wash section!

NOTE: if your plushie has a voice box or joints or anything inside that is incompatible with water then don’t submerge it!!

🧼 2. Soap! 🧼

I use Woolite brand soap because it’s gentle and safe for synthetics. You can also use dawn dish soap at even more diluted ratio. I dilute the detergent with water in about a 1:6 soap:water ratio in a small container (i usually use the detergent cap) Be aware that the more concentrated your soap is exponentially increases the amount of time it will take to rinse it out!

A good rule of thumb for your soap:water ratio is you want the solution you are using to be just a little slippery when rubbed between your fingers.

i use woolite but any gentle detergent safe for synthetics will work. Stuffed animal fur and stuffing is generally made of plastic! NO FABRIC SOFTENER! And no shampoo, conditioner, or soap made for human skin! The moisturizers used in these products will never “absorb” into the plastic fibers! These products will all leave a residue!

You can use very diluted cheap conditioner to detangle a plush but you will need to wash out the conditioner with a a detergent afterwards.

🫧 3. Wash! 🫧

Hand washing: I soak the plush under COLD running water first, and then with my hands i apply and lather the soap in to the fur/fabric and make sure i thouroughly saturate it with the soapy water.

For plush that can’t be bathed/aren’t super dirty/only need a spot clean I use a damp microfiber rag dipped in a mixture of lukewarm water + a tiny (like a drop!) of soap (woolite or dawn) and rub them down all over with it. Then I go over them with a rag damp with clean, soapless water until all the soap is gone. If your plush has medium or long fur you still will want to brush it out to make sure the fur dries soft and not clumped up! Check my section on drying/detailing below.

For machine washing put them in a pillow case to protect the eyes, and put some pillows/ blankets/ towels in the machine with the plush to pad it. use gentle detergent and wash it on “delicates” (or your machines gentlest cycle) with COLD water! Top loading machines do best for this and you’ll want to arrange them sitting up with their backs to the wall of the machine if possible. For front loading machines just throw a bunch of extra pillows/blankets to pad it. skip to step 5 if you end up using a washing machine. I find this method works very well for larger, sturdier plush like build a bears. NEVER PUT PLUSH IN THE DRYER!!!

🚿 4. Rinse! 🚿

Use cold running water! Make sure no soap remains. I smell the plushies periodically to be extra certain i’ve gotten the soap out. You can gently squeeze the plushie depending on the stuffing type. Some plush may need to be washed twice or three times depending on the filth-level, or rinsed multiple times depending on the soap concentration.

Beanie babies and some other plush can be squeezed because of their beans, but plush made out of purely soft stuffing can have their stuffing deformed if you squeeze them too much. Some brands like douglas have stiffer plush with beans and stuffing and they actually can be squeezed too. (DO NOT “WRING OUT” ANY PLUSH!!)

🧽 5. Pre-dry! 🧽

after the soap is 100% out and you are happy with the cleanliness of the plushie, you have two options to pre-dry them:

My favorite way is to put the plush in my washing machine and run it on “spin” cycle only, which is very effective at getting excess water out. In my experience the plush barely moves in my top loading machine, but you can always put the plush in a clean pillow case or put a bunch of clean towels in with it to pad/stabilize the plush in a side loader or if the plush is fragile

If you can’t use your washing machine for any reason, then try your best to get as much water out without damaging the plush. Consider wrapping it in a towel and making a sling with a second towel and spinning it around you, lol. It will be okay if you can’t do any of these things, though! You can also just use a towel and press it on your plush to try and soak up as much water.

Only you know how durable your plush is. The more well made it is (think big brands like douglas, jellycat, wild republic, aurora VS an antique) the more your plush can take without risking damaging the seams/parts. PLEASE don’t “WRING OUT” your plushies as this can deform them!

I NEVER put my plush in the dryer, it can melt the fur fibers and cause matting/damage!! Some people use the “air dry/no heat” but i don’t like to take risks

🧺 6. Dry! 🧺

⭐️ This is the most important part, you must set your plush up to air dry thouroughly!! I prefer to use a fan pointed at the plush. but if you don’t have access to any kind of fan then a hair dryer set on cool could work, and plain air drying works too, it just takes longer.

For plushies with medium/long fur (basically anything besides minky fabric) I brush the fur out with a soft bristle brush once or twice while it’s drying to make sure the fur dries fluffy and soft. I use a build a pear paw brush. You can also use a plastic slicker brush and brush backwards with the direction of the fur to avoid pulling the fur fibers out. Don’t use a brush/comb that’s been used on humans or pets without super disinfecting it first, as the skin oils/dirt can damage your plushies fur!

For beanie babies or any plush with beans you must make sure the beans dry completely, they take way longer than the stuffing!

You need to rotate the plush every few hours or so to make sure it’s drying throughly. Make sure the bottom of the plush gets just as much exposed drying time as the rest of the plush, as gravity will pull any water downwards.

Try not to dry it in a humid room, like a bathroom! There is a risk of mold if a plush doesn’t dry completely before being packed up/sealed up.

I also wouldn’t risk drying your plush outside due to sun bleaching and possibly debris from wind/trees landing on it. You can dry it in a window that gets sunlight still as long as you don’t leave it there for weeks on end. Sun bleaching takes quite a while so the risk is very small.

✨ 7. Detail! ✨

(optional) after the plush is completely dry i go back with the brushes and detangle/fluff up the plush! This is almost necessary for any long/medium furred plush to keep the fur soft and detangled. I use the soft bristle brush for all, and plastic slicker brush for long fur. You can get a small plastic slicker brush for kittens/small dogs at walmart for like $3. Just make sure to be gentle with any combs/slicker brushes to avoid damaging the plush/ripping out the fur. ^_^

This was super long! I have hand washed like 25 plushies of all different sizes at this point and this is what works for me. I have a lot of thrifted plush and they dont always come in great shape. you can reply to this post or send me a message if you have any questions!

extra tip from reblogs:

#there’s probably typos #faq #super faq #wash #washing plushies #wash stuffed animals #clean stuffed animals #clean plush #resources #cleaning plushies #plush care

[stargirlsturniololover]

christmastime with husband!spencer headcanons

request: no this is just me being drunk on the idea of hubby spence

warnings: literally none

summary: christmas with spence🫶🏻

also: this is the blow up

also also: this is in no sort of timeline order🦧

songs: (mentioned songs)

fit check: you can’t really fit check in a headcanon but

these are the pjs y’all wear for the christmas photos

• he plays you christmas songs on the grand piano in y’all’s living room, and you sing along.

• y’all host about 10 parties through the christmas season, but the best one is always the party for the bau team.

• you make spiked eggnog for the entire team, but spence and penny specially request hot chocolate because they hate the taste of alcohol.

• he gives you a little trinket every night for the 12 nights before christmas.

• he’s done it since y’all started dating, about 7 years ago, and every year you tell him it’s not necessary but he continues to do it.

• y’all definitely got married during the christmas season, even though spencer hates the cold and wet, but he knew you loved it so he gave in.

• your anniversary is december 13 (shoutout swifties).

• you danced to christmas dreaming by laufey for your first dance, so every december 13th you dance to that song in your living room.

• since you and spencer have no children, unless you count the three fur babies (2 cats and a dog), you don’t have to spend money on your kids.

• that being said, you spend money on your fur kids instead.

• you and spence pick out matching christmas pjs and then get little pet clothes then you go take “family photos”

• you and spencer aren’t much into the crazy outdoor christmas passtimes (snowboarding, skiing, ice skating, etc.) again because spencer hates the snow (so do you)

• instead, you build gingerbread houses, bake, and sip hot chocolate by the fire while he reads you a christmas story he’s memorized.

• you wanted a real tree very badly, but spencer gave you all the statistics as to why fake trees were better, so you folded and got a 9.5 foot tree.

• your tree is very eclectic, you have ribbons woven throughout, spencer’s various nerdy ornaments (books, star wars, star trek, etc.), and your more girly ones (nutcrackers, ballerinas, and various pink, sparkly items).

• the top of your house has christmas lights hanging from the roof, courtesy of derek and hotch.

• you stating“spencer, baby, i love you but you, my little pipe cleaner, will not be climbing that ladder.” was all it took for spencer to get off the ladder and call derek and hotch over.

• the front of your house doesn’t have many yard decorations except for the blow up millennium falcon you and spencer stumbled upon a year into your marriage.

• his favorite christmas movie is miracle on 34th street and his favorite christmas song is christmas (baby please come home) by darlene love.

• when you buy christmas socks, you always get two different sets so that you and spencer can both have one of each pair.

• remember those christmas pjs from earlier, that’s what y’all wear on christmas eve.

• christmas eve, you both open one gift from each other, usually something very nerdy for the both of you.

• a book, a vinyl, a little trinket, just something that you nerd out over.

• christmas day, the two of you just spend most of the day hanging out together.

• you basically just kiss and cuddle and open presents all day long.

• but of course, the two of you still wake up at the butt crack of dawn to open presents.

• your cats and dog wallow around in the wrapping paper while you and spencer tear into the gifts like literal kids.

• of course, there is the white elephant tradition at rossi’s house.

• the whole team gets together on christmas day at dinner time to play white elephant and just eat and drink together.

• after the party at rossi’s, you two go home and immediately go to bed, being very tuckered out from the day’s activities, but first y’all slip into the matching pjs that santa brought you.

• is it obvious that you two love to match?

#spencer reid x feminine girlfriend #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #husband!spencer #christmas tree #christmas #Spotify

[teecupangel]

I have been thinking what about if Desmond turned into a Pegasus, a Hippogriff or even better a Griffin. I just really like the image of Desmond's ancestors riding into battle or just flat out jumps from Desmond's back mid flight leap of faith style.

To be honest I like Griffin Desmond more. The combination of bird of prey and big feline is just so fitting for the Assassin's Brotherhood. Aerial superiority plus the stealth agility and flexibility of a cat. Plus imagine Altaïr finding cub Desmond during AC1 and thinking he is just a cat sized chubby ball of fluff that can fly and claw at the enemies faces (and also curl up with him at night and purr, Desmond's feathers and fur are very soft). Then fast forward a few years where baby is all grown up, can claw through steel and armor, is bigger than most horses and capable of easily carrying two people comfortably on his back and still have space for a third (that doesn't stop Desmond from sleeping in Altaïr's bed much to Altaïr's delight displeasure).

Also could put some AltMal in there with cub Desmond helping mend their relationship (Kadar is alive because I said so, maybe he saved him at the cave). And bringing those two for a nice flight.

Desmond goes down in Assassin history as a legendary creature whose chosen rider/companion goes on to do great things.

I wrote a pegasus idea but I can’t seemed to find it :(

I think I also wrote Griffin version but I’m soooo unsure so… have this little scene instead? XD

.

.

It was the sounds of quick feet hastily walking away that alerted him.

Altaïr raised his head and placed the quill back to the small ink bottle next to the journal he had been writing on, the two pages filled with the ongoing designs for Desmond’s armor with notes all over concerning the materials and possible alternatives.

He stood and waited for Malik to open the door to reach the mentor’s office from the second floor of the main keep. Altaïr kept his face blank, observing Malik’s face.

He was frowning with lips set on a grim line.

But his eyes did not bore any darkness nor blaze.

So… annoyed but not murderous or angry.

Altaïr could work with that.

… he just have to find out what he did wrong this time before Malik’s annoyance boiled into anger.

“Malik…” Altaïr greeted cautiously with a nod.

“Follow me.”

With that said, Malik walked out of the office and Altaïr grabbed the journal, not wishing it to be seen by anyone. He kept it open though because of the ink but followed Malik quietly, ignoring the way the other Assassins and scholars rushed (while walking) out of their way.

Malik led him to their private quarters and Altaïr was trying to remember if he had forgotten something.

Did he leave books haphazardly again?

No.

Altaïr was sure all the books had been organized this morning. He hadn’t even touched any of them, having been woken up by Kadar before dawn because of a new merchant who thought he could pull a fast one on Kadar with the absurd prices he had set for supplies.

Well…

Kadar was the reason why he had woken up but it was Kadar’s assistant, a young Assassin who had to leave the field due to a severe injury, that had woke him up and begged him to intervene before Kadar pushed the merchant off the fortress wall and make it look like an accident.

… not that it ever happened before.

Was it because Altaïr left in a hurry with no time to-

No.

Malik wouldn’t be annoyed by something so small.

They entered the room and Malik led him to…

Ah.

“Care you tell me about your bedwarmer when I’m not here?” Malik asked dryly.

To anyone else, they would probably assume Malik thought Altaïr had been spending the night with another behind his back.

But…

Desmond stared at them, wings twitching slightly as he remained curled on the bed, currently in disarray with feathers all over.

One of the pillows (the blue one that no one really uses anyway) had been eviscerated, its guts flowing out from the telltale talon marks.

“I can explain.” Altaïr started.

It was bound to happen.

Malik didn’t know that Desmond would come into their room and sleep with Altaïr whenever he was away.

Altaïr wasn’t even sure if Desmond did it to comfort Altaïr or if he wanted some comfort but it had been a habit they formed since he found Desmond as a cub, so small he could fit in one of Altaïr’s arms effortlessly.

Malik raised an eyebrow as he said, “Alright, I’m listening.”

Desmond slowly got up and tried to make himself look small (a fruitless effort considering his actual size) while crawling towards the now open door.

“Desmond.”

Desmond froze at the sound of Malik’s voice.

“Stay.”

Desmond stared at Altaïr, his big eyes seemingly becoming bigger, glistening with plea.

Altaïr turned his eyes away.

Desmond made an almost clicking sound before walking towards Altaïr, going on his haunches next to him.

“Well…” Malik glared at Altaïr, “Go ahead, Altaïr.”

Altaïr stared at Malik and wondered.

… what the hell was he supposed to explain?

#desmond is a griffin #desmond is like half a pet and half a brother to altaïr #altaïr always cleaned up after desmond sleeps with him #desmond needs altaïr to open the door for him #otherwise he might just ram it #i just realized that if one doesn’t remember desmond is a griffin in this one #this entire idea feels more soap opera drama lol #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #malik al sayf #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #altmal

[aliasrocket]

Hi! How do you think Rocket would interact with Reader when they wake up after a fun night together? I just need to know what he’d say in his morning voice, how he goes about cuddling, how he’d wake you up. Strictly for scientific research purposes obviously.

There would be a loooot of groaning, I imagine. Especially when both of you are half asleep, and you ask him a question, his morning voice would be so deep and rough.

masterlist. requests.

“Mm, Rocket.”

“What is it baby?”

“Get up.”

“No,” he groaned, curling up against you from your back as his hands further tightened around your torso. His muzzle was curving into your neck, forcing you to lift your chin to make room for him.

Rocket loves being the big spoon. No secret in that when he wanted to feel your hair on his fur, the slow rise and fall of your body at each breath you took against him.

I don’t think Rocket’s an early bird but on the off chance he wakes you up, he definitely has a hot cup of coffee in his hand and he’d shake your shoulder gently and once your eyes flutter he’d cast your hair aside to kiss your forehead.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Sunshine?” You repeat back with a weak chuckle.

“I’m up at the ass crack of dawn for you, it was an appropriate nickname,” Rocket commended himself.

“Mm … for me?” You croaked, still attempting to blink away the sensitivity clogging your corneas.

“Yep. You have work, remember?” Rocket grinned.

“Work … WORK!”

“I had fun last night, princess!”

You zip around the room, gathering your clothes and salvaging what little you could of your messy hair. You simply didn’t have time for Rocket’s quips right now.

But they were fully welcomed once you finish your shift later.

#rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #rocket gotg #ask response #ask reply #gotg fanfiction #rocket raccoon x you #rocket raccoon x reader #rocket raccoon fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfiction #rocket raccoon imagine #.alias.inbox.request. #.alias.drabbles.imagines.

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Smeared Hearts

Credit to @rosellemoon for this oddly, insanely compelling idea about the fluffy, rainbow Storian. I couldn't help myself, so I took her ideas and ran with them.

Here is the link to the original post.

@heyo-428 @cetastars @harmonyverendez Read this, if you’re still interested in the fluffy pen story!

Note:

I did toy around with the order of Rise’s series of events a little, and included elements of Fall. So, be warned: the continuity is by no means perfect, the tone is intended to be more comedic (and sometimes more modern?) than usual, and I wrote this more for the concept than the plot at first. You could consider it a loose chronological series of vignettes, if that’s easier to understand because it isn’t quite a full story. It cuts from scene to scene. Or, rather, it is a story with a lot of scene breaks. Also, this was kind of an impulse fic, so I didn't start with a plan until a little later, but I did edit.

⸻

When Rafal agreed to be named a School Master of the renowned School for Good and Evil, he hadn't expected to become a pet owner, or something of that ilk.

When he initially saw it... it was fluffy and rainbow. Oh, the indignity of it all, of his life. What had he agreed to?

He groaned. The Storian wouldn’t have been his first choice of godlike pens, but he supposed a magical, fluffy pen was better than no magical pen at all.

The Storian drew a heart on Rafal's hand. It was about the size of a coin.

He grimaced.

Why couldn't the pen have chosen a more tasteful mark? A crown, or an ace of spades perhaps. Even an abstract scribble would have been fine, preferable even.

When the Storian drew his brother's heart, Rhian had laughed at its tickle, and the Storian had taken his response as a sign that it was welcome to snuggle up with Rhian every night, beside him in bed like a beloved pet.

Rafal slept alone.

⸻

Rafal had lost all faith in the Storian.

The irritating pen knocked things from tables. It beat Rafal's dish-breaking record within a week. And, it mussed up his hair, and shed all over his robes, slacks, and jackets. If any comparison could be drawn, it was most like a recalcitrant cat, an everlasting thorn in his side.

He couldn't face his students covered in feathery scraps of rainbow fur! The Nevers would ridicule him.

Invest in a lint brush, he noted to himself. That would settle it.

And shave that pen to boot. Not that he could. The little devil was fast, and would punish him for high treason.

Rhian wouldn't mind, he told himself. But, his brother loved that worthless thing. Of course he would mind. The Storian was practically Rhian's child. Rhian's baby talk drove Rafal up the wall. He was so mawkish and cuddly with it, as if it weren't already a combination dust magnet and feather duster that aggravated allergies.

No way would anyone ever see him petting the thing. It was an object, not even a living object, just unusually sentient. It was a patently false imitation of a real animal.

Rafal’s Stymphs were far superior to the pen, and they obeyed him and his commands as any good pets ought to do. Though, he considered the Stymphs more akin to his faithful soldiers, pledged to serve his eternal cause of Evil than well… pets, or whatever the pen was to Rhian.

⸻

Lately, Rhian was becoming obsessed with the Storian, and it worried Rafal.

At least he wouldn't have to worry about Rhian getting attached, only to catch it belly-up, and be forced to fly to the nearest pet store and cosmetic apothecary to replace it with a magic-surgery-modified duplicate before Rhian saw. Getting the last fish to look identical had been one hell of a sleepless night he’d spent in a race to preserve Rhian’s feelings. He’d stayed up to ensure the new pet was in place, and had to bury the old one at the crack of dawn while Rhian was still asleep.

But, with a pen, that couldn't happen. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, he knew the worst had happened far too many times. Rhian tended to kill things with too much love. It was absolutely sickening. He'd overfed goldfish in the past, almost the Wish Fish too, if Rafal hadn't put an immediate stop to it, and he had overwatered various hydrophilic plants from humid, tropical climates.

Rhian didn't have the best track record when it came to pets. Or self-preservation for that matter. He’d struck up conversations with strangers left and right.

A pen could be good for him. It had no expiration date. It didn't even have a mortal life, so no matter how incompetent Rhian was, he couldn't kill it. No responsibility aside from keeping it entertained, no risk of accidentally killing it, something to distract him from Rafal's own wrongdoings. The pen could prove useful in that regard. Yes, he could live with it, he decided.

Then again, maybe the right question to ask was whether it had feelings. Could he insult the pen? And what would happen if he did? He was sure Rhian would be none too pleased. But what about the Storian itself?

⸻

Rafal eyed the heart on the back of his hand. It was glaringly obvious and far too… sentimental. He had to do something about it. Scrubbing vigorously hadn't worked. He'd only succeeded in scrubbing the skin of his hand red, raw, and dry.

Rhian had haughtily told him he needed moisturizer.

Rafal snapped back that he knew. “Go bother someone else with your fussiness, Rhian!”

In the end, he'd bought black, supple, leather gloves, fitting of his look. They molded to his skin perfectly, and they didn't clash with his typical mode of dress.

Rhian accused him of being needlessly "edgy." Well, there was just no satisfying him, was there?

But, Rhian was a squeamish fussbudget, and his opinion held no weight here. So, Rafal wore the gloves. And soon, the years turned to decades, decades turned into a century, and the Woods kept living.

⸻

Rafal wore his gloves every day without fail—until he needed the additional dexterity that could only be afforded by flesh and bone fingers while drowning in the sea amid Night Crawlers.

He tore off the gloves, and in his haste, flashed the rainbow-inked heart at James, James who began to snicker at the thing like it was the most contemptible mark in the world.

"Thought you were Evil. Eh, Master?" James taunted.

"Shut up. It's-it's Rhian’s,” Rafal lied, stuttering through his embarrassment. No need to explain a fluffy pen of all things to James. He'd only think Rafal a dolt.

The heart was so cloyingly sweet, but it still made him feel vulnerable when it was seen, out in the open.

Astonishingly, James’ previously murderous expression softened and its matching intent evaporated. "Guess you wear your heart on your sleeve then. Like the Good do, or as close to Good as you can get, huh? Wouldn't mind saving me then, wouldja?"

Rafal gave the heart a sidelong glance. “Fine,” he muttered unaffected with marked disdain.

In the end, neither of them made it to the underwater prison of Monrovia, which contained the infamous Saders, but no matter. They were both out alive, albeit drenched.

⸻

Suspended aloft, ever an eye, the pen bore witness to a stalemate between the School Master brothers and the Pirate Captain.

The Pirate Captain loped forward. “So, you've got a pen that draws maudlin hearts?” he drawled.

"Yes,” Rafal said through gritted teeth. The leather of his gloves was cracked and split by this point, and creaked when he held a staunch grip. He’d formed fists, but he held himself back. The man didn't deserve a blow to the jaw, yet.

Off to the side, James winced, and drew a great step back to distance himself from his sorcerer friend.

Ferret-boy lolloped into the fray. “Yer magical pen does what?” he piped up, as if he'd been deaf to the Pirate Captain's question.

Him on the other hand—he had it coming for him. Rafal bristled, clenching and unclenching his fist instinctually. His dispassionate gaze morphed into a glare.

“It be drawing that craven, girlish thing on ya hand? Gotta be stark raving mad fer that to ’appen,” Ferret-boy quipped again.

Rhian stiffened, face heating.

Rafal defended, “It's not stupid, fussy, or effeminate. Even if it is, it's my only tie to Rhian at the moment, and I, for one, would prefer to keep it, along with my immortality, if you'll excuse me, pests.” He nodded at James, and turned to leave.

The Pirate Captain lunged for the pen without warning.

The Storian darted away, answering with a sugary jingle. Then, it coiled like a spring, launched, and jabbed the Pirate Captain viciously in the chest.

"Oof," the bested Pirate Captain breathed, clutching his torso.

A true pity that it hadn’t drawn blood, Rafal carped internally.

Self-satisfied, the pen twirled in the air, and flew back to the brothers. It curled up in Rhian's waiting hands like an overgrown, weaselly, color-dyed rodent, its noodly form like a piece of rope gone limp.

Rhian headed back to the School, safely cradling the pen.

Rafal stayed back on the dock to deal with the pirates, and give James a proper send-off.

⸻

Rhian had never taken an interest in women’s undergarments until now, but he was desperate.

He had already sifted through the Beautification classroom’s storage, and had come up with nothing. So, now, he was knee-deep in Dean Mayberry’s dresser drawers that he’d pulled out entirely, and he found himself rifling through her delicates at an alarming rate.

He soon chanced upon what he was searching for, and fished out a pair of airy, white gloves trimmed in lace that she’d worn to a recent soirée. He pressed his lips together grimly. They would have to do. Hopefully, Rafal would be distracted anyway. His new attire could divert Rafal’s attention.

He reasoned to himself that a smudge meant nothing, and hummed to himself nervously. It couldn’t be covering up duplicity. That would be Evil.

He wasn’t Evil.

He buttoned the gauzy, eggshell white gloves up high with their glossy, pearl buttons. Then, he went on his usual rounds over the School grounds, pretending nothing was wrong.

Rhian should have known his brother would first set his eyes on his hands. His glove-covered hands.

⸻

As Rafal flew overhead, approaching the School's clearing, he roughly tugged on his gloves again. Then, he saw something had gone wrong as he glanced down at Rhian from afar.

Rhian clearly had a new, downy, swan-feather outfit, a cloak of pure, shining spun-gold, and something else. Something new. He was wearing dainty, white gloves.

Rafal caught sight of another, unsubtle change through the tower window. He was horrified to find that Rhian had apparently commissioned a golden cage for the Storian while he was gone.

Seemingly, Rhian now tended to it even more regularly, as if he were sure it would grant him a favor, like a genie or a magical creature of that sort would, once caught and released for a wish in exchange for its freedom.

How childish could his brother get?

The moment Rafal's boots hit the windowsill, he peeled off his leather gloves, and noticed that for once, from just minimal friction, the interference of the glove’s coarse fibers, the seawater and his sweat, his heart had smeared.

His heart looked more scrawled than deftly inked. It was a messy blur of rainbow splotches on his pale skin. It didn’t look right, smeared like a stain, an iridescent oil spill, formless and hazy, like liquified beetle wings and mercury.

It was supposed to be as permanent a mark as one from a branding iron. It was a fixed tattoo! It couldn't just be wiped clean away!

Rafal blinked, rubbing at his eyes, trying to clear his tainted vision.

The smudge stubbornly remained.

Something had gone wrong while he was gone. Something sinister.

Rafal stepped into the tower chamber, legging it over the windowsill. He did not observe the cloaked, vampiric man fleeing the scene, memento mori etched on his skin.

Rafal reasoned these circumstances out to himself slowly: Rhian had probably figured that because Rafal never took off his gloves, except in the dark, at night, to sleep, that he'd never notice anything was amiss. But something was. Something grave enough to compel Rhian to cover it up, to erase his mistake.

Their bond had been besmirched by something. By someone. A stranger Rhian had opened his heart to. But was their bond broken?

The implications sank in. If it was broken, he could now be killed.

Rhian flung open the door, and greeted Rafal with cheer, yet he seemed wary.

Uncharacteristically, Rafal reached out to Rhian for a hug, and used the rare moment of closeness to yank Rhian's glove off.

The seams burst with the amount of force he applied and the pearl buttons popped off, catapulted in all directions, clattering to the floor, bouncing and rolling between the stone tiles into every last crack and crevice.

Rhian gasped and tried to shove his hand into a pocket.

Rafal trapped him by the wrist.

Beheld, as sure as day, was a bloodred V slashed in ink, like a scar of rouge in Rhian’s disfigured, melted, rainbow heart stamped around it.

Rhian's hand turned gelid, clammy, and slick in Rafal’s grip.

Someone had replaced him, Rafal concluded, without a word.

Rhian did not even try to offer excuses. It would be too humiliating to explain how he’d let Vulcan violate him during one of their dinners. He blushed at the candlelit memory.

Rafal dropped Rhian’s wrist. “Woe are we,” he sniped bitterly.

Rhian’s eyes welled with tears, but Rafal wouldn’t look at him.

Rafal couldn’t look at Rhian.

In fact, both brothers had fallen silent as the pen scratched away, swishing back and forth like a pendulum.

Rafal glared at the fluffy pen that shivered and flounced and puffed itself up like a fox's tail in the breeze. From across the room he could sense the pen's swift movements as it whisked through the air.

Wisps of shed fluff floated in the sunlight filtering through the silver curtains in spotlit shafts.

He felt the swoosh of the pen's fluff.

It twitched like it was winking at him, and slunk towards his legs like a cat. The pen twined itself around his legs in greeting. For several rounds, it wound itself around him.

He stood uncomprehendingly until his rage got the best of him. He extricated himself from the pen, and couldn’t bring himself to care about brushing the fluff from his slacks.

Rafal jumped out the window, to fly off, and figure things out for himself. The crisp air stroked his bare hands for once, and the sharp wind ripped away the excess fluff, battering his clothes and rippling cloak.

Now, he had to keep his heart in sight at all times, until he reversed this curse. No matter if anyone thought anything while his heart was exposed. They could all go to Hell for all he cared. He was doing this for Rhian.

And to save his own lost heart as well.

⸻

He flew away at full throttle, landed, and set off at a brisk pace, slamming into a boy with golden curls, grey eyes, and a cherub-like face. The exact sort of fellow Rhian would crush on!

“Who are you? Are you the V?” Rafal demanded.

The boy looked confused, and narrowed his eyes, fuming. “Name's Midas," he gruffed, putting up a front. “Who're you?” He stabbed a finger at Rafal's chest.

“Your worst fears,” threatened Rafal placidly.

Midas’ eyes widened.

Rafal shot back up the silver tower, and hurtled through the window, Midas in tow, grasped in his iron grip over the starchy fabric of the boy’s shirt. Coolly, he tossed aside a squirming Midas, who scudded across the room, aided by his sorcery, and left the boy for a moment, vowing to deal with him later.

He turned to Rhian, who stood agape, next.

⸻

Rafal marched deeper into the stone chamber, snatched Rhian's wrist, and dangled his limp hand in front of their faces. “What's this?” he said quietly, menacingly, pressing down on Rhian’s pulse.

He dragged Rhian up to the Storian, and released him.

Rhian stumbled forward, only managing to stay upright with Rafal’s firm hold on his shoulder.

“WHAT'S THIS?” Rafal shouted at the trembling pen, now thrusting his own outstretched, ink-stained hand at the pen.

The Storian, previously backed up against a bookcase, leapt into its cage, and rattled around. It cowered at the back of the cage, against the golden bars.

“This can't be what I think it is. I love him,” Rafal assured the pen feverishly. He sank to his knees in desperation, casting his gaze up at the pen.

Rhian dropped to the floor with him, and looked pleadingly at his pet.

Long and sinuous, the pen performed a twist in midair with a light jingle, as if considering the chastened School Masters before it, contemplating their tale. It moved with broad brushstrokes, white streaks of erasure, fine, gossamer threads spinning through the air, weaving around the brothers’ forearms.

The hearts vanished off their hands.

Rafal flinched, and shielded Rhian.

Rhian quivered, his heart throbbing against Rafal's own pounding rib cage. He gripped Rafal's upper arms, bracing himself behind his brother for the worst, for his precious pet to turn on him.

Yet the pen forgave.

It hovered over their hands, and drew new hearts, the same as it had done a century before.

⸻

Note:

I'd love to know your reactions and thoughts, or if anyone laughed. What specific parts got a rise out of anyone? Did I manage to shock anyone, with anything? I’d love to know what. Feel free to comment anything and ask any questions if there’s confusion.

I hope everything’s up to par. Did anything (specific or not) feel out of character? I didn’t check the books, and I sort of forgot what Hook’s, the Pirate Captain’s, and Midas’ dialogue sound like. If anyone catches any inaccuracies, feel free to let me know. Also, if there's anything else wrong grammatically, or in terms of clarity, please tell me.

#school for good and evil #rise of the school for good and evil #fall of the school for good and evil #rafal #rafal mistral #rhian #rhian mistral #sge #sfgae #the school for good and evil #tsfgae #rotsge #rotsfgae #fotsge #fotsfgae #my post #my headcanons #the storian #storian #man vs. pen #fluffy rainbow storian #my fics #my writing #smeared hearts #sm

[kaciidubs]

my cat is definitely bangchan coded. bangchan is my cat’s bias 😂

y’know that lion king meme, where simba is being obnoxious at the crack of dawn and mufasa turns to his wife and says “before the sun rises he’s your son” (https://youtu.be/gJ0QftpKt8Y?si=1LWc3jEVO67bCUeJ)

i imagine that’s Chan with your pet(s).

barely awake as your pet begs for attention, and he says it with that sleepy raspy voice whispering right into your ear…and you’re just so proud of him for actually sleeping and staying in bed instead of being a workaholic that you get up and take care of it so he can stay cuddled under the blankets. SO CUTE

Lion King is one of my favorite movies, of COURSE I know that scene!!! Little kitty being Chan biased is so amazing of her, I hope she wins a fan call one day 😭

Ohhh I can see it so well, your pet hops onto the bed, a cute little thing you both decided on adopting as a step toward the little family you've always talked about late at night, before starting the little sounds and actions of needing attention.

At first, you're ready to pass it off as a momentary thing but the little baby is NOT giving up and that's when you feel the arm around your waist tighten.

"...before the sun's up, that's your child."

You can't even fault Chris for both wanting to get up, especially given the fact this was the RARE time he went to bed early with you - so, you huff out a tired laugh and wiggle your way out of his arms.

"Alright, alright, I'm up." Scooping your fur baby into your arms, you spare the sleeping man a glance, "We're both coming for you when the sun's up."

And as if to make a point, he snuggles himself deeper under the warmth of the blanket.

I'm nothing but a melted puddle of softness from this, Elle 🥺😭

#✧. ┊ kacii answers #✧. ┊ lovely skz-elle #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐰 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥

A girl’s day out with Koda takes a surprising turn, and you were left with more questions than answers with Bucky’s strange, mysterious behaviour.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☘︎ Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☘︎ 1.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☘︎ Tooth rotting fluff

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ☘︎ I love foreshadowing.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ☘︎ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Snow covered the roads between Bucky’s cabin and the town centre, and the truck tires, chains attached, navigated the terrain with ease — a blessing, given the age of the ancient automobile. 

Next to you, in the passenger seat, Koda sat with her tongue lolling from her mouth and tail thumping on the leather of the seat. Her little barks and grunts of excitement made you smile as you drove, nearing the town. 

The build up to the festive season, at least, in your family, was always a hectic, mind-numbing time. Preparations started early, as early as October, and the habit of having some semblance of festive organisation and creativity allowed the ability to make a plan with some affinity for joy. 

At least, that’s what you told yourself. Bucky, on the other hand, was as laid back as a bear in hibernation. He could not care less. 

“Are you headed out today?” Bucky asked tiredly — the low timbre of his morning voice still sent shivers up your spine. It was one of the rare times where Bucky wasn’t awake and up working before the crack of dawn. 

You allowed yourself only a short amount of time to revel in it. Just because he chose to lie in, it didn’t mean the world stopped. And time was ticking by.

The pop and crack of your bones when you stretched to the ceiling made you wince, and you slumped on the bed with a groan. “Why don’t you meet us in the–” You paused, mulling over the places in town that you could stop at. “What about the cafe? By Wanda’s shop—you remember it right?”

Bucky yawned, and nodded. “A’right, sounds good.” He rolled onto his back and huffed. “Take Koda with you? Poor princess misses her momma—I’m workin’ her too hard, apparently.”

“You are,” you teased, smirking. “I’ll take my baby, we can have a girl’s day.”

“If you come back with her claws painted,” Bucky said, sitting up. “I swear to–” You kissed him full on the lips, silencing his tirade, and he pulled back, brow raised. “Jus’ have fun. I know what you get like with this damn Christmas shoppin’, baby.”

“I always have fun.” 

An hour later, after a hearty, warm breakfast, Koda and you jumped into your truck and there you were, on the road to town, the back tray of the truck prepared for your incoming haul.

Koda huffed next to you, and you glanced over — she was looking out the window at a herd of bounding deer. “No, baby,” you chided, and you put a hand on her back, scratching the fur. “You can’t have them, leave ‘em be.”

A low whine left her muzzle at the scolding, and you chuckled. 

“How about we get you a treat in town, hey?” She turned in the seat to face you, her floppy, brown ears perking up at the word treat. “I knew that would get you, honey,” you cooed, scratching her chin, and you grimaced at the slobber that now covered your wrist. 

The town sign came into view as you rounded the final turn of the road. Sprawling pines and fir trees lined the way, a distinctly thick blanket of snow covering their branches from the previous night’s fall. It was a beautiful sight as the sunlight bounced off the crisp white.

Townsfolk that dawdled on the sidewalks were rugged up to the nines in the chilly breeze. A snow plough had thankfully been through that morning, leaving behind heaped piles on the sides of the roads, and you briefly thought of the mess that Koda would make jumping into one. 

“Koda, baby,” you said, and Koda’s mouth closed as she tilted her head in question — her bright eyes widened from your stern tone. “I need you to behave. You stay next to me, okay?”

She barked once and licked her nose. “I know you can’t understand me,” you mused, and you turned your truck into a free parking space. The grind of the handbrake was loud in the cabin. “Alright, how about we get a couple of things for preserving first, honey?”

A yip was your answer, and you nodded. “Good girl. Now, c’mon.” The air outside was as crisp as it was back at the cabin, but you made your way to the passenger side and opened the door for Koda. “Heel,” you ordered immediately, and Koda stood stock still. “That’s it. Let’s get your lead.” 

With the leash attached to her collar and your bag over your shoulder, you began the journey of Christmas shopping. Koda greeted every person that passed you by, as did you. Life in a small town was the familiarity with everyone, and you felt blessed for that, given the amount of baked goods you received as gifts — and the friendships, of course. 

For hours, you went from shop to shop, buying things on your considerably long list, and you were starting to tire from lugging groceries back and forth. The temptation to text Bucky and tell him to hurry up was overwhelming. 

The cuts of meat in the crate you carried jostled as you walked back towards your truck, when Koda perked up next to you. And having a weighty load of fresh meat in your arms, you were keen to avoid an overexcited dog pulling you down onto the pavement in a glorious face plant. “Girl, heel,” you commanded quickly, looking up and around, “What is it?” 

You searched the street, until you saw a truck approaching — it was identical to the one that parked next to yours back at the cabin, and with an equally familiar brown and white St. Bernard in the passenger seat. Bucky had finally arrived. “Oh, thank–”

Koda barked and launched forward, her paws skidding over the snowy pavement, and you winced at the pull of the lead on your wrist. The crate of meat in your arms tottered and swayed dangerously as the truck pulled up right in front of you, the engine cutting out straight away. Bucky’s head popped out from the driver’s side window as Koda whined, desperate to get to him. 

“I was just about to text you,” you huffed, desperately attempting to get a stable hold on the meat so it would not tumble to the concrete.  

Bucky, who had worn his hair down and covered it with a beanie, while a thick, plaid jacket covered his shoulders, slipped out the driver’s side and Sarge followed suit. “Good thing I have a sixth sense for when my Clover needs help, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled, and Bucky took the crate from your arms. “Thank you. Koda, sit.”

The overexcited ball of fluff did as she was told, and you scratched behind her ears as she looked up at you, then to Bucky, then back to you. Sarge was placidly sitting at Bucky’s heel, his calm disposition making you envious for a fleeting second. “She’s been so excited—seeing all of her friends,” you explained.

“I bet,” Bucky chuckled. He looked at you and grinned. “So, where were my girls off to next? What’s on that list a’yours?”

You sighed, and fetched the sheet of paper that had guided your whole expedition from your bag. “Decorations—I need some for our tree that you got,” you listed, and your eyes scanned further down the page. “Then it is… Well, that’s really it, except for the last of the food.”

“Why don’t we do the food first,” Bucky offered, stepping backwards towards the bed of his truck. “Then they,” he nodded at the two dogs who now sat at your feet, “Will hopefully, hopefully, be tired out—give us less of a damn workout.”

“Good idea.” 

Once the cuts of meat were safely away in the bed of Bucky’s truck, the four of you made your way back down the street towards another grocer, your list and the leash of Koda in one hand, Bucky’s in the other. 

The venture through the grocer’s went smoothly, even with the two dogs in tow, and when you made your way back to your truck, Bucky paused. The sudden tug on your arm made you stop, and you looked back to see what was wrong. “What is– Oh.”

Bucky was staring into the window display of the local seamstress. There were two mannequins, dressed up as Santa Claus, and Mrs. Claus. “They’re pretty,” he said, stepping closer to the glass. 

You followed suit and admired the finishes on the skirt of Mrs. Claus’ dress — beautiful, iridescent whites and ivories were interwoven with deep cherry red. It looked comfortable too; warm from the soft material. 

The Santa costume looked just as well made with woollen accents, and heavy, durable fabric. “You would be so cuddly in that, babe,” you murmured, absentmindedly squeezing Bucky’s hand. “And you could be Santa, even over at the site.”

“We need them,” Bucky said quietly, and before you could say a word of protest, he let go of your hand and walked right up to the entry. There was the sound of Christmas carols when he pulled the door open, and he walked inside, Sarge following obediently after him.  

“Bucky!” you laughed, and you rushed in after him, careful to keep a tight hold on Koda’s leash. “Come back, let’s get all of this in the car first.”

The interior of the shop was cosy and warm. Materials and threads of all kinds and colours lined the space in shelves or drawers; the colours of green, red, and gold most popular, if the giant display in the middle of the floor was any indication. 

You found Bucky at the counter, chatting happily with the worker while they prepared something on the countertop. He smiled at you as you approached, and said to the worker, “We’ll grab the set of outfits on the mannequins.” 

The worker grinned and ran to grab the matching outfit from the mannequins. With them occupied, you looked at Bucky, unable to hide the amusement at his impulsivity. “This wasn’t on my list,” you whispered, smirking.

Bucky shrugged. “Don’t care, bunny. You’re gonna look so fuckin’ beautiful in that, and I need my Mrs. Claus, don’t I?”

You sighed. “You’re not wrong.”

“Thank you,” Bucky drawled, and he kissed your cheek just as the worker came back with the matching costumes. 

A few moments later, all four of you exited the store, cardboard bag in hand with the costumes. Thankfully, both of your trucks were parked not too far from one another. 

With a few grunts of effort, the two truck beds were stacked full from your haul, and everything was ticked off your list, except…

“You do realise, babe,” you said suddenly, now that the reality of those costumes had settled in. “That Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus are married… Right?”

Bucky only smirked. 

Your mouth fell slack at his lack of an answer, and you swore your coat was suddenly too hot. “Bucky!”

He shrugged. “What? Can’t a man dream?” You watched him walk backwards to his truck, Sarge at his heels, and he blew you a kiss before he slipped into the driver’s seat. “See you at home, baby!” he called over the rumble of the engine, and he was gone. 

At your feet, Koda yipped and looked up at you. “Did you– Did you hear him, baby?” She whined in response. “I– Oh my god, okay,” you breathed. Your heart raced in your chest and your mind moved just as fast. “What just happened? No, no—let’s get home, honey. Your dad has a lot to answer for.”

If Koda could have voiced an answer, you would have suspected she would turn around and mention the lack of treats — but little did you know, the biggest treat was yet to come one day soon.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #MB #rookthorne's works

[tumblingdownthefoxden]

"The Assistant and The Star"

Chapter 1: Standard Routine

*11 years later

It was shortly after dawn and the sun was rising. Atop a grand hill stood Asha and another girl. Before them stood easels with canvases where they painted the sunrise.

Asha looked over at the other girl's painting. "Oh, Bazeema. That is an excellent shade of pink. How did you get it?"

Bazeema showed Asha her wooden palette. Using a clean brush, she took a dab of red paint, a dab of white and a touch of yellow before mixing it all in the center. "Oh, I see." Said Asha before she repeated the process. Asha places a few strokes of pink on her canvas before stepping back to admire her work. She thought it was grand. Asha looked around the forest and back to the sunrise before releasing a light sigh. "You were right Bazeema. I do feel better. I really needed this after last night."

The previous night, Bazeema and her mother were working late to finish tending the royal garden when they came across someone trespassing through the moss trees. When asked about their whereabouts, the person simply said they were looking for someone who owed them a favor and tried to push past them. The gardeners kicked out the heckler and would later find Asha hiding under a moss tree. She was hiding from a heckler that was chasing her near the castle. The same heckler that they just kicked out. Bazeema helped Asha get home and invited to take her uphill to paint the horizon before they went to work.

"Hmm. Do you want to leave now? We're a long way from the castle and I don't want to make you late for work." Asked Asha.

"It's still pretty early but we could leave if you want to. I'm finished with my painting anyway."

Asha added her signature onto her canvas before packing up her art supplies. They traveled for 30 minutes before reaching Asha's home. Outside the house, sat Mama Sakina brushing the fur of a baby goat. The goat noticed the two and bounced over to the pair. Excitedly braying as he pawed (hooved?) Asha's legs.

Asha giggled. "Good morning, Valentino. Happy you're awake as well."

"Good morning Asha. Hi Bazeema. How was the sunrise?" Greeted Sakina. "Good morning, mama. It was beautiful. I'm getting better at painting as well." She said as she lowered the canvas to Valentino's eye level. "What do you think buddy?"

Valentino cocked his head and paced side to side in critical thought before giving an approving bah. "Thank you very much." Replied Asha. She raised her canvas and looked back to Sakina. "We're just going to set these to dry and go to the castle." They placed their paintings against the wall of the house.

"You're going into the city now?" Sakina asked, concerned. "Can't you take the day off today? It's the middle of the Summer festival and there's a Wish Ceremony is today. It's going to be crowded in town square. It could be dangerous."

As she said this, Saba Sabino came outside. "Here's some food for thought. Why don't you celebrate your Saba's 100th birthday all afternoon and evening? Take a break from everything happening in the city."

Asha paused at the offer. Two years ago, she was interviewed and accepted to become the King's assistant. A role that allows her to help manage the wishes, prepare magic ingredients, and many other things. Rumor has it that the King's assistant will not only have their wish granted sooner than most, but can get other peoples' wishes granted.

Asha is quite famous in Rosas, but it is a perverted form of fame. Asha had more than her fair share of hecklers and fake friends. It only got worse during the solstice and equinox festivals. Today would be one of the few times that the King will grant wishes on the same night as a Wish Ceremony, and people will do whatever it takes to be sure that the "insurance" will deliver their wish that night.

"I know but this is the most demanding day and I have to help the King. He needs me to help choose the wishes to be granted and test the performance of his new spells." She began stroking her locs. "I know yesterday was… dramatic, but I can find another route and Bazeema can help me get home without anyone noticing."

Sabino sighed, a little sad. "Okay, if you must. But if I may suggest, that soldier fellow you know. The one near the castle. You can ask him to take you home as well."

"Simon? He's a castle guard, not a soldier. And he's on the night shift, I can't ask him to take me home."

"You get off of work near sundown. Simon's shift starts at midnight. He should have time." Bazeema rebutted.

"But he's asleep around that time. It's a long way to and from the castle and it would be rude to interrupt the little rest he gets to-"

"He will not mind." Sakina placed a firm hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Simon is one of your oldest and truest friends. He will not antagonize you for needing his help. He won't ask for anything in return." She smiled.

Asha sighed in defeat. "Okay. I'll ask him." She said before going inside the house. Entering her room and opening her closet, she searched through a set of 10 masquerade masks to wear on her trip. They were a gift from Magnifico to help her travel unrecognized. She picked a golden ibex mask and changed into her assistant's uniform. Asha grabbed her leather bag from a nearby chair and put on a dark hooded cloak over everything.

Walking out to the living room, she heard a gasp from Sabino.

"Oh, stars above! La muerte?! Oh, is it my grand daughter's time already?" He knelt down, trying not to smile. "Oh, please. Have mercy on her. Take me instead."

Asha laughed and rolled her eyes. "I'm not dead yet, Saba."

"You will be if you keep working yourself like a mule." He teased, standing up. "But if you're going into the city, maybe I can take advantage of crowd and play my music for them to hear." -He went to open a cabinet and pulled out a mandolin case- "Maybe, they will pay attention this time." He whispered to himself.

"You know, I could try to get your wish granted tonight." Asha offered. "Maybe find out what it was." Sabino chuckled. "No need to stress over finding it. I wrote it down before I gave it to the King. Now I wait for it and attempt to achieve."

"Oh." Went Asha. "What did you write?"

"It's a secret." He whispered with a smirk.

"Saba!"

Sabino just laughed at her frustration. "Well, what would like for a present?" Asha asked.

"If you find a little trinket in the market that I could add to my collection, that would a great bonus. But all I need is for you to come home in time for cake." He said with a smile.

Asha hugged her Saba goodbye and left the house. She hugged her mama and walked up to Bazeema. "Hey Valentino? Are you coming?" Asha called. Valentino hopped up to follow but Sakina picked up before he could approached. "Hold on there, mister. We can't have you go into that chilly castle without your pajamas, can we?" Sakina sat down on the grass criss crossed and positioned the little goat back on her lap. She pulled tiny pajamas from her pocket and fitted them over his head. "There you go." She chimed as Valentino ran over to Asha and Bazeema. "Watch over her, please. I love you all." She called to them. "We love you too. Goodbye." Asha called back as they made their way through the forest.

A while later and the trio made it to the outskirts of the forest, just outside the city. Asha stood in admiration of the festival decor around the area. Streamers of red and yellow. Banners for the rising and setting sun. Blue, unlit lanterns strung above the street. The streets weren't filled with people yet but enough to dissuade going through town square. They had not noticed a hunter at the edge of the forest looking their way in suspicion. Something about the cloaked figure seemed familiar but they weren't sure why. Then it hit them.

"Hey, are you the veiled assistant?" They called out. "I want to ask you something!" Valentino took notice and headbutted Bazeema's leg to see the hunter approaching. In a mild panic, Bazeema took Asha's hand and they bolted down the outskirts towards the docks. "Hey, where are you going?" The hunter cried after them.

After a short while, they made it to the docks. "Are... Are we... still being followed?" Asha panted, hanging onto her knees. Bazeema looked back and saw no sign of pursuit. "No, we're safe. But we need to find Dahlia and Hal. They can take us down a new route at the docks."

"Okay. Woo... Let me catch my breathe first."

After a good 7 seconds, Asha straightened her back. "Wait, you didn't tell Dahlia about last night, did you?" Bazeema was silent and only interlocked her fingers. "Oh no! Bazeema! She's going to be all over me!"

"But she can ensure you get in and out of the castle!" Bazeema beamed.

They approach the city where two other girls stood by. One with a crutch and anxious look. The other with a basket looking out at the nearby ships on the horizon. The anxious girl looked their way and squealed. 'Oh boy,' thought Asha. "Hi Dahlia. How are y-" Dahlia tackled Asha in a bear hug before she finish speaking. "Great Heavens! Great Heavens! Great Heavens! Please take off your mask!" Was all the girl said. Asha complied with the request and lifted the mask from her face. Dahlia spared no time before taking her face into hands, turning it side to side to check for any bruises. "You're not hurt? They didn't reach you? Oh, I should've been there with you!" Dahlia panicked.

"I'm alright, Dahlia." Asha reassured. "They grabbed my cloak but I got away." The last sentence did anything but reassure Dahlia. "THEY TOUCHED YOU!? Oh ho! No! Do you remember their face? What they wore? Do you have their name?"

Hal came up and tugged at Dahlia's dress with her free hand. "Go easy on the lady, Doc. We still need to take her to the door." Dahlia took a deep breathe and let go of Asha's face. "Sorry. Okay. It should be this way." Dahlia led them past the great bell tower to a large wooden door that she swiftly unlocked with a key hanging on her belt. "This is the delivery route. The cooks use it to quickly bring in new shipments of food and herbs into the royal pantry." She opened the door to a dark hallway. "There are wall windows further down but it's stained glass so people should only see your shadow."

Asha looked inside, worried. "What if I get lost in there?"

"It's a one way path. Wherever it's too dark to see, just feel for the wall and follow it."

The 5 of them jumped as the great bell tower rang out to announce new arrivals coming to Rosas. Hal looked out to the ships about dock. "It's time, Dahlia!" She said. "You'll be fine Asha. See you tonight! And remember, you're the Goat!" She praised with a finger gun. Valentino brayed annoyed. "Oh, right! You too Valentino!" She said, petting his head. Asha placed her mask back over her face and the two entered the hallway, closing the door behind them. Dahlia will lock it once they're inside the castle. The three remaining girls returned to the gate to meet the approaching newcomers.

"Good morning and welcome. Glad you could make it here. My name is Dahlia Akaboshi and I will be your tour guide for today. These are my friends, Bazeema and Hal." She took the basket from Hal's hand. "Would you care for a muffin. Gratuity from my parents, the royal bakers." The guests took a few muffins and looked around. "So, shall we begin? Come this way." Dahlia looked back at the now open gate and the three girls led the new comers into Rosas.

A/N: Tumblr freaked out on me and this got deleted 2 times but things came out better. The story became much more extra than I anticipated but I like how it's coming along. I'm giving my girl a major internal conflict. I'm hoping to draw out my rewrite of "Welcome to Rosas".

@annymation @signed-sapphire @wings-of-sapphire @chillwildwave @kstarsarts @rascalentertainments @emillyverse @uva124 @oh-shtars

#wish au #taats #wish rewrite #wish reimagined #asha the assistant #asha

[bonefall]

you talk about clear sky likes he’s this huge tyrant or something. now i haven’t read dawn of the clans in a long time but was he really that bad? i don’t remember a lot of things that happen in that arc btw. or did you make him even worse with the bonefall rewrite??

i should reread dawn of the clans

Things Canon Clear Sky does;

Throw his disabled brother into the wilderness to die

Reject his only surviving son because its mother died in a building collapse after leaving in protest of all his violence

Come back only once that son is grown and useful

Refuse to care for a clanmate with an infected wound, kicking him out

Tells his son to lick the pus off his friend's wound if he cares about him so much, publicly

A lot of public humiliation in general

Is 1 of 2 suspects in the mauling of a battered housewife who dies of her injuries

General warmongering

Responds to the idea of peace talks by taking a prisoner of war

Starves that prisoner of war to the point of emaciation after promising to care for him while he's detained

Starts the bloody First Battle when the starving prisoner of war catches a bat because he hasn't eaten in days

Dozens of people die in this completely pointless and avoidable fight. They cannot dig the mass grave in one day.

Murders Rainswept Flower during this, saying he "got so mad he didn't know what he was doing". This is accepted as a reasonable excuse lmao something is deeply wrong with these writers.

And that's all BEFORE the "Redemption Arc." He continues to act like this but now the narrative decides he's good now and everyone's mean to him for holding him accountable for his actions, he's so sorry guys :(((

After his redemption arc;

Loudly whines and complains that StarClan is forcing him to take an outsider, Micah, as a doctor

Treats him poorly while he's in SkyClan, shown to be verbally abusive every time it comes up (Micah insists he's not so bad if you give it back to him, though this is shown to not be true)

Foists a Clanborn apprentice onto him immediately, Acorn Fur, with the implication that she will replace him as soon as possible.

Refuses to allow Moth Flight and Micah to gather sap for another Clan, knowing denying medicine will kill someone

Orders Red Claw to fight Micah, getting Micah killed

Refuses to allow Moth Flight to finish Acorn Fur's training

When his baby son gets mauled by a fox, he refuses to allow Acorn Fur to go get help until infection sets in

He blames Wind Runner for this because she held Moth Flight back for like 5 minutes.

Holds Moth Flight as a prisoner of war when she needs that sap again until Wind Runner apologizes for killing his baby

So in short; he is canonically an awful tyrant and I'm barely making him any worse in my rewrite. I'm just making it so he doesn't have a failed 'redemption arc' because he didn't even actually change in-canon.

I don't care how "scared and sad" he was when he was doing war crimes. His motivations are piss poor excuses for justifications and his botched redemption arc is one of the worst plots the writers ever hatched.

#This is a Clear Sky hate blog #All my homies hate Clear Sky #Re: is is a GOOD villain! He should stay that way #It just so happens that like 75% of the Clear Sky asks are inquiring about his redemption arc #I'm guessing it's because it's fun to see me rip into him lmaooo #You are like curious onlookers dipping various meat bones into a pool with 1 very ravenous piranha #Seeing how quickly I strip the skeleton #Warrior cats analysis #Also this post is going around again so I did an edit #I read DOTC again and it's worse than I remembered