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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 9 months

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twst food culture compilation

Please note: this post does NOT include all food-related lore in TWST (for example, you won’t find a lot of information about individual characters’ food preferences or personal experiences with food here). This post ONLY talks about the food culture, notable locations, cultural dishes, and unique foods of the Twisted Wonderland world at large (ie countries, specific towns and cities, etc).

I did my best to scour for info, but I’ll update if I find anything new or details I missed the first time around.

General and/or Unspecified Location

There is a seasoning called “pure azure salt”, which is said to be rare, even in the Coral Sea.

Twisted Wonderland has a fruit called ruby berries (which taste “like freshly picked strawberries”).

There is frozen mint with a “refreshing profile” that grows in icy mountainous areas.

There exists Walrus-brand oyster sauce. Trey uses this to cook hamburger steak for his younger siblings. He says the oyster sauce provides a "nice savory flavor" with considerable depth. Trey also jokes about adding it to chestnut tarts in book 1.

There are mentions of irl Japanese foods such as konjac and takoyaki, but so far no place of origin in Twisted Wonderland has been sited.

Like in the real world, celebrities like Vil and Neige are used to promote products (including food and drink) in commercials, on social media platforms, etc. For example, in book 5, we see Neige advertising Red Apple Soda and Vil using his Magicam account to promote the apple juice made by Epel's family.

There's a popular dish called "pumpkin carriage stew". The insides of a pumpkin are scooped out and the shell is filled with a creamy stew, which made it difficult to carry over to tables. It would sell out every day at the cafe Ruggie used to work at.

Some restaurants call their spaghetti with meatballs "starry night spaghetti", named after the tale of two dogs who shared a spaghetti kiss under a starry sky. It is said that sharing spaghetti with meatballs with someone outside would lead to true love.

Hunting is sport as well as something done for food.

Briar Valley

General

Cotton candy is a classic snack food sold at Briar Valley food stalls. The way it is prepared resembles spinning threads, which is considered a blessed occupation (as there was a period in Briar Valley's history when no one was able to spin thread, so some clever individual tinkered around and made cotton candy instead).

In the battlefield (~400 years ago, during the human-fae war), soldiers would roast rats and lizards to eat if they didn't have rations or other ingredients.

There is little in the way of modern technology and electricity; typically, one would prepare dishes and/or collect ingredients by hand (such as via fishing) or by using magic.

Magic is used to light fires for cooking. There is little risk for fire accidents since magical fires automatically go out when you go to sleep.

Because Briar Valley is located to the north, it can get very chilly. When the snow melts, it turns into very cold freshwater.

According to Lilia, “berries are a must-have, especially at birthdays parties” in Briar Valley. They are famous for its berry juice.

Coral Sea

General

According to Jade, there are no fires in the Coral Sea. Therefore, most of the food consumed is raw.

A month-long land boot camp first established by a mermaid princess that married a human prince teaches merpeople fire safety and how to eat food as part of its curriculum.

It's rare for merfolk to eat anything sweet, as those kinds of foods aren't readily avaliable in the sea.

The Atlantica Memorial Museum has the mermaid princess's "silver hair comb" on display. This, of course, refers to the "dinglehopper"--a common fork. This implies that merpeople (such as the mermaid princess referenced in many stories) fused to be unaware of the eating utensils on land.

Azul's mother owns the "hottest restaurant" in the Coral Sea. It started off as a small place, but has since expanded to have a large staff.

Couples from the Coral Sea frequently request rainbow dessert soup with trident cookies for their weddings. To eat it, you use the trident cookie to stir the sweet sky-blue soup, which then turns the soup into seven colors of the rainbow. This is a dish that is only served for special occasions in the Coral Sea, and it is typically served warm.

Jade says that he was surprised to see that many land dwellers eat their fruit without the peel; this would imply that those from the Coral Sea typically eat their foods with the skin/peel left on, or as-is.

Playful Land Amusement Park

All food and drink are handed out for free.

They serve food in large quantities, such as tuna, entire tart cherry pies (with cinnamon, clove, and crushed nuts in the filling) and a whole peppery roasted chicken. The park encourages consuming in excess.

Other food items being offered include fried tuna fish and sparkling apple juice. The juice comes with an umbrella stuck in the opening to prevent bugs from getting in. You remove it before drinking.

They have ice-cream in many flavors! We see strawberry milk in the related event.

The park had candy and popcorn in “apple core” flavor. Supposedly, this is a taste inspired by the story of the Generous Fox giving a Puppet Boy an apple core instead of a whole apple because “the puppet wished to have a core”.

There is a “Candy Road”, a street lined with shops that have caramel lollipops, chewy candy, marshmallows, cookies, chocolate crunch, and lots of other sugary treats!

Their chocolate crunch has 12 different charms thrown in.

The third most popular souvenir are pasta snacks in the shape of the Friendly Fox and Gentle Cat. The second most popular is a tin of plain cookies in the shape of the Friendly Fox and cocoa cookies in the shape of the Gentle Cat. Finally, the most popular are apple core flavored candies!

Sage's Island

Night Raven College

Pomefiore holds a welcome party for the freshmen, which includes a fancy dinner.

Scarabia regularly holds banquets, typically at Kalim's request.

Heartslabyul holds so-called "unbirthday parties" whenever it is a day that does NOT fall on a Heartslabyul student's birthday.

The dorm members of Scarabia and Heartslabyul pitch in to prepare for banquets and unbirthday parties.

Mr. S's Mystery Shop stocks food items, such as candies (which Floyd often buys), tuna cans, and ingredients for baking (this is where Deuce and Yuu pick up things for the chestnut tart in book 1). Sam also sells food items that he seems to have made himself, like the Mystery Drink (which Octavinelle eventually buys the rights to).

The school cafeteria is said to have delicious breads.

Once a month, a famous bakery from out of town serves their goods at NRC. Their stock includes items such as chocolate croissants, egg sandwiches, yakisoba bread and cream bread ("cronuts and bear claws"), roast beef sandwiches, red bean buns ("hot dog buns"), and deluxe minced cutlet sandwiches ("deluxe ham and cheese"/"grilled cheese" in the localization). They sell out fast!

The cafeteria at NRC serves food buffet style; the cafeteria is kept warm with magic from fire fairies which are supplied with dry firewood every day.

Master Chef ("Culinary Crucible") is an elective course at NRC that teaches students how to cook. It is meant to curb the expenses related to eating out and to help the boys maintain balanced diets and learn how to take care of themselves. Judges for this course are randomly selected from the students and staff (prior to this methodology, people would bribe the judges for extra credit).

While taking Master Chef, students help with preparing meals in the cafeteria in exchange for part-time pay.

The instructors for Master Chef are ghosts who were professional chefs at five-star restaurants when they were alive.

There are various locations on campus where the students go to fetch ingredients for Master Chef. This includes an on-campus farm, ranch, windmill... and even the dormitories themselves!

Octainvelle has the Mostro Lounge, described by Jade as "a meeting place for gentlemen" where fighting between dorms is prohibited. While dining there, students are expected to abide by Octavinelle's rules. It is run by the manager and founder, Azul, who made a deal with the headmaster to get the rights to open the establishment. NRC gets 10% of the revenue the Mostro Lounge makes.

The Mostro Lounge has a one-drink purchase minimum.

The Mostro Lounge also operates food stalls and/or sells food at many school events, such as the cultural festival in book 5 and the interdorm magical shift/spelldrive tournament in book 2.

It is mostly Octavinelle students who staff the Mostro Lounge, but there are occasions when outside students are brought in as extra help. Ruggie has worked there part-time, as well as Jack, Ace, Deuce, and tons of other students.

NRC opens its school gates to the local townspeople for a period leading up to Halloween; during this time, they distribute candy and other sweets (such as Sam's waffles, served with jam made from NRC's apples) to guests. There's also a party on Halloween night where lots of food is served.

The woods behind the campus have chestnuts, which the main crew collect for an apology tart to Riddle.

The Botanical Garden has some edible plants growing there. These include strawberries, which the Science Club cultivates.

Unbirthday Party Rules (related to food)

Rule 25: There must be a tea party on the 5th of every month.

Rule 29: You must not eat the Queen's tarts without her permission.

Rule 153: The only tea you may drink in the evenings is herbal tea.

Rule 186: Do not eat hamburger steak on Tuesdays.

Rule 256: You must not drink lemonade with honey past 8 pm.

Rule 271: You must get up from the table within 15 minutes after eating lunch.

Rule 339: Your post-meal tea must be lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes.

Rule 529: If you eat steak on the night of a full moon, a cat must play the violin afterwards.

Rule 562: Do not bring chestnut tarts to an unbirthday party.

Rule 648: You must brush your teeth 2 times on nights when you eat turkey.

Rule 703: Whoever comes in 2nd place in a croquet match must serve tea to the Queen (dorm leader) the next day.

If the dormouse wakes up at an unbirthday party, you are to paint its nose with jam.

Coffee is forbidden; tea must be served at all occasions except for birthdays.

According to Cater, sweets are mandatory at unbirthday parties.

Dwarves' Mine & Silent Woods

There is an abundance of wildlife in these areas; Jade often goes hiking and foraging, making note of what he finds. He uses the plants to make his own tea blends (which are sometimes added to the Mostro Lounge's menu) and the herbs, plants, and mushrooms to experiment with in cooking.

There are fish to be found at the lake, including massive catfish.

The Foothill Town

There is a port for mainly cargo ships located at the southwest part of town. It's called Crane Port! The east side has a port as well, but that one is moreso for passengers. Crane Port has been getting fewer and fewer people passing through lately (until Port Breeze Fest, in which the NRC boys run food stalls and help to revive business in the area). Group A makes churros, Group B makes waffles, Group C makes salads, Group D makes cotton candy, and Group E makes clam chowder.

A popular restaurant in the Crane Port area serves foods like french fries and burgers. Their signature menu item is a donut made from potatoes. Actually, this restaurant specializes in potato dishes!

There is a chain restaurant on the island that also has locations elsewhere, including in Ace's hometown. He mentions that there are slightly different flavors to the sauces depending on which location you go to.

The town also has other eateries that are more geared towards students, seeing as it exists on an island with two notable magic schools to the north and the south. Cater often mentions going into town to take pictures at cafes.

There is a famous patisserie there. You have to line up early in the morning before opening time to get your hands on one of their strawberry tarts (or anything, really!).

Scalding Sands

General

The Scalding Sands seems to borrow heavily from Middle Eastern cultures. For example, some of the Scalding Sands’ traditional dishes include, but are not limited to: roasted lamb, moussaka, döner kebabs, shawarma, flatbreads, potato and bean spreads, and seafood sautés.

Tea is a popular beverage; it is had at every meal and break. People can drink up to 10 cups of tea a day!

The Scalding Sands specializes in black tea. For entertaining guests, special tea leaves are used.

In the Scalding Sands, they brew their tea leaves loose and without an infuser. This makes the tea very strong and bitter. To counteract the powerful flavor, people add lots of sugar to their tea and drink it with sweets.

“Luxurious” tea is very sweet, since sugar was once very expensive (due to a shortage of it, according to the localization) and considered a luxury.

Due to the hot weather, people often toss herbs into their tea to make it more refreshing to drink.

Coffee is also popular; there are many cafes that serve coffee and tea. The Scalding Sands is known in particular for their spiced coffee, which has a very distinctive flavor. This coffee is brewed without a filter, and some cafes do “coffee divinations” (reading the shapes and patterns of the grounds and the water droplets that remain after drinking to tell the fortunes of customers).

There are a lot of unique spices in their dishes. This is especially true of banquet dishes. However, a variety of dishes are still served at these occasions.

Kalim describes the Scalding Sands as being “big on stewed stuff” like curries.

In Kalim’s hometown, people love to gather around the table and talk over a meal.

Halloween in the Scalding Sands is celebrated by feasting on a variety of dishes. The idea is that the food must be abundant so that the ghosts that return to the world of the living for the night may also have their fill.

It used to be difficult for the people of the Scalding Sands to obtain water due to the lack of rainfall, hot climate, and expansive desserts. However, Kalim’s ancestors utilized the country’s rivers to reach other countries and to trade their textiles, spices, tea leaves, and other local goods with foreign lands. It was particularly impressive at the time, as they were the first traders from the Scalding Sands to sail (back then, accurate nautical maps were not a thing). This maritime pioneering is what would make the Asim family their massive fortune.

The Asims and other merchants heavily invested in technologies and innovations to make the area more sustainable and potable water more accessible.

The waterways of the country eventually developed into canals and communities formed around them as trade hubs. The canals are also used to host ferryboats for locals and tourists to sightsee, boosting the tourism industry. This also made access to water much easier for the residents, and the water helps to cool the temperature.

Silk City

The bazaars in Silk City are where locals do their shopping for various goods and staple foods like vegetables and fish. There are also stalls with gourmet food that cater to tourists.

Camel Bazaar is named after camels, which were used to transport people, goods, and luggage before Silk City’s canals and roads came to be. There also used to be an oasis where the camels would rest and drink after long treks; this oasis became a center for commerce and eventually evolved into a marketplace. To this day, the name “Camel” has stuck, even if people use trucks, ships, and cars more than camels.

There is also Zahab (”Gold”) Market, which is popular with tourists for shopping (especially for souvenirs!) but also has swindlers and pickpockets mixed in with regular customers.

Many snacks are sold! There’s camel milk chocolate, cookies drizzled in syrup, sunflower seeds, pistachios, chickpeas, all kinds of nuts, dried fruits (including dates), jams, jellies, syrups, starfruit, dragonfruit, etc.

(Lamb) shawarma is described as meat roasted on a spit and served on baguettes or pita bread. Because grease drips off while it cooks, it is “surprisingly healthier” than one expects it to be. Shawarma is also customarily served with vegetables (tomatoes, onions, olives, jalapenos, etc.) and sauces (yogurt, garlic, chili, hummus (a paste of garlic and chickpeas), mayo basil, etc).

There is a vendor that can supply large quantities of sweet and refreshing coconut water; this is because they’re used to providing for Kalim’s extravagant and excessive tastes. They create a hole in the top and provide straws to poke in and use to drink the water. The coconut flesh inside is also edible.

There are a lot of bread stalls; bread is also another staple food, and it comes in many sizes, shapes, and textures. Small roadside bakeries have wood-fired ovens which allow them to serve bread fresh to customers.

One stand sells baguettes that are taller than many children; these “tower baguettes” are a famous Fireworks Festival treat. People say that if you eat a big one, you’ll never go hungry again! The saying comes from a story of a young man that shared bread with hungry children. It’s because of that story that baguettes are considered a good luck food that many vendors sell on holidays.

The Camel Bazaar sells an elastic ice-cream (based on a similar irl frozen Turkish confection). It is kneaded on a pole and stretched out; customers are meant to “catch” it in their cups and cones. It’s food performance art! All the stretching makes the texture very unique.

There’s a fruit stand that is only open on festival days which sells a Silk Melon sundae; the fruit is hollowed out to host ice-cream (of the same melon flavor!) and toppings which make it very photogenic.

Starfruit is usually put in salads, according to Trey.

The dragonfruit sold is recommended to be eaten with honey. You drizzle it on top of a slice and eat!

Silk City’s signature fruit is the Silk Melon. It is called that because of its silky texture and sophisticated sweetness. It can’t be found in many other countries. The man of legend that shared his bread with a starving child is said to split a melon with his friend, even though he did not have much money to spare. It’s because of this tale that people started saying if you share Silk Melon with someone, it would make your friendship or romance last forever. Now the fruit is a festival staple and considered a symbol of good fortune.

In the past, water was only used for irrigation due to its scarcity. Some gave up on farming after years of trying to produce crops and failing—but others refused to give up and cultivated the land to made it fertile, something which future generations would reap the benefits of.

The fruits and veggies sold Camel Bazaar are freshly picked and grown locally. Jamil says this is possible because the arid climate actually helps with growing crops of high quality. Produce raised with less water concentrates flavor since the final fruit will have a higher sugar content. Because of this, Silk City’s produce is prized by chefs all over Twisted Wonderland. Of course, you can get them at an affordable prize in Camel Bazaar!

Shaftlands

General

The Shaftlands are famous for its jeweled pineapples.

The Shaftlands spans a large area of land and has drastically different climates depending on the part of it you're looking at. Therefore, we can deduce that foods and customs surrounding food are very different as well.

City of Flowers/Fleur City

The city’s food culture seems to be inspired by real world Paris, or at the very least, France.

Bread is a local specialty, particularly very buttery kinds. As you walk down the streets, you can smell bread baking. The City of Flowers has 10x (or more) the variety of bread that Sage's Island offers, and has an abundance of bakeries too.

Bread-making is popular in the City of Flowers. The windmills at the edges of the city grind grains to produce fresh flour. There are also watermills powered by the Soleil River to assist with making flour.

Because wheat is plentiful in this area, some of it is also used for desserts. One such confection is financier, which is made from a combination of wheat flour, almond flour, and butter. It resembles a gold bar, so eating one is said to bring financial prosperity.

Lately, gluten-free desserts have been trendy.

A dessert that does not use wheat flour is macarons. In the City of Flowers, they are yellow and shaped like bells to honor the Bell of Salvation which oversees the community and provides magic that helps rare plants grow in the area. The filling is a ganache with dried bits of grapes and apples.

Grape juice is popular in the City of Flowers, as the fruit is another specialty. You can buy the grapes raw and eat them as is, or ask a vendor to crush it (skin still on!) into juice for you. Some buy the grapes to give as gifts!

The grapes are grown in vineyards right outside of the city, and the farmers are constantly experimenting to improve their breeds. They taste very rich, tangy, and sweet.

The City of Flowers is also known for its many specialty cheese shops. Together, bread and cheese are called the staple foods of the city, and are sometimes eaten together. One specialty cheese shop the boys visit sells baguettes topped with ham and rich melted cheese.

The city considers goats a symbol of good luck, so they are treated with care. There are many community goats (which are just as common as domesticated cats or dogs) allowed to roam freely in the city. It is said that if you treat the community goats with kindness, they will come rescue you in your time of need.

Goat milk is used in some of the specialty cheeses produced by the city. The grapes mentioned earlier are also made into fruit compotes to go with the cheeses.

Harveston

This village has many dishes that borrow from a mixture of irl Nordic cultures. There’s also an emphasis on having hometown pride and the community itself being very close.

As expected, many of Harveston's dishes feature apples: apple pie, grilled and roasted apples, apple salad, apple pound cakes, etc.

Epel's family has an apple orchard that has been in the family for generations. They grow different kinds of apples throughout the year. Many of his neighbors are older people who also raise produce, and they help each other out when they're short on hands. The community is very tightly knit because of this, and treat each other like extended family.

Harvest season (autumn) is the busiest time of year; once that's over, everyone comes together to have a party. It's a potluck style celebration where everyone brings a homemade dish or homegrown food to share.

Harveston preserves its produce (such as apples and wild greens) by pickling them and serving them in salads. The bright colors are maintained by boiling the produce in a copper pot, which stabilizes the pigments. It's wisdom passed down from generation to generation.

There is also pickled herring, traditionally eaten on bread. Brining preserves the fish while it is still raw and doesn't dry it up. It's ready to eat right out of a jar, no cooking required.

The local stew is not very thick. It tastes sweet because of the added vegetables and savory because of the tender meat in it. There is also a salmon broth sprinkled with herbs which is described as "melty".

Fruits and vegetables can be packed in snow to keep them preserved. This method is called “snow aging” and prevents evaporation. In the old days, the villagers would build whole farms out of snow. In modern day, they just shovel the snow into a barn. This creates a natural fridge that will naturally thaw in the summers. Snow aging in this manner makes the produce sweeter and more nutritious.

The next town over is a three-hour bike ride. The roadside has many apple trees you can enjoy during the trip.

You can easily pick apples off the branch and eat them fresh! Farmers can snack on apples while picking.

Harveston is surrounded by tall mountains that are snow-capped all year, the most famous one being Mt. Moln. The greenery around Harveston is due to the spring water irrigation which runs down from Mt. Moln.

Most of Harveston’s land is used for orchards, and apples are their main produce. They also make many products using those apples like chips, rice crackers, and cookies.

Fall apples are sweeter, while winter ones are more sour. Winter apples are unique to Harveston.

Harveston also grows a lot of garlic.

Harveston farming is done the old fashioned way, as the predominantly older population distrusts chemical fertilizers and biotechnology.

Some villagers like the mayor and Marja (Epel’s grandma) adjust their accent to communicate with people from outside the village. Marja says she switches up when she’s selling goods in another town, since it can be tricky for non-Harveston locals to understand.

Hand washing before eating is a must! They take the act very seriously in Harveston. Stories say the miners of the past used to get very sick due to poor hygiene, but their health improved drastically once they started washing regularly with soap and water. It was difficult for them to get treatment because the town is so remote and far from hospitals or doctors, so the best thing is stressing prevention. This why the townspeople are sticklers about hand washing now.

To wash the Harveston way, you plunge your hands into ice cold water and make it all foamy with soap. You also scoop the water up and splash your face as well (as the miners from the past would also do this).

Apple Square is the main festival venue; it has many vendor stalls in an area called Kokko (which means “Bonfire”) Market. The Sledathon is the most lucrative time of year for the townsfolk.

Many of their products are made locally by the older folks in town. The goods aren’t trendy or very fancy, but they’re high-quality and made with Harveston pride.

The stalls give apple juice, apple tea (which has fruit pieces floating in it), and apple ginger tea for free. The apple juice is one of Harveston’s most popular products.

Giant five-meter apple pies are made for the Sledathon. They’re considered one of the main attractions, and you can get a slice from them free of charge.

There are other stalls that sell regular apple pie too. Every vendor has their own style, from the apples used to the crust and baking technique.

There are other kinds of fruit pies for sale, but apples are the most popular and “special” ones. The Beautiful Queen had a preference for apple pies, so the townspeople do too.

Harveston apple pies have such an entrancing flavor that the nearest city has stores that stock them. Critics say that Harveston apple pies make anyone drool and that the best way to convince someone to do you a favor is to gift one.

Harveston holds an apple competition to find the reddest apple. This is because the Beautiful Queen prized beautifully red apples. In the past, the townspeople would offer the reddest apple from the season’s harvest to the Beautiful Queen. Over time, it evolved into the apple competition.

Kokko Market makes pancake balls from a flour batter and top it with jam. It’s prepared in a pan and with methods similar to takoyaki, coming out crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside.

Pancakes also come in a square form. In Harveston, pancakes are baked in the oven instead of on the stove. Some people cook pancakes in the fireplace too; this makes them tender, thick, and pudding-like.

There are many grains used for bread: sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, oats, flax seeds, sesame seeds, rye, wheat...

Barbeque is served for large gatherings and celebrations.

Cooking tends to be done in the fireplace instead of on a stove, especially in the case for stews. It keeps the room warm in winter while the food cooks.

Harveston has a bean and fruit soup. Most other places serve it cold, but those in Harveston sometimes enjoy it warm. It’s a thick consistency and the fruit in it has been dried.

When setting the dining table, people in Harveston leave one extra plate out. This tradition comes from a story about a traveler visiting a family’s house and being surprised by the messy state of it. The traveler cleaned the house and cooked a nice meal for the family. From this story came the belief that as long as you leave a plate at your table, you’ll never want for food or go hungry.

Sandwich cakes are common party centerpieces. They are made with bread and vegetables, topped with shrimp, deviled eggs, olives, apples, and salmon slides arranged in a rose shape. The frosting on it is made from mayonnaise and sour cream, making sandwich cakes more salad than dessert.

They sell cherries and other berries by volume. Also sold are vegetables and juice, freshly squeezed.

Because Harveston is located in a mountainous region, there are rare varieties of mushrooms to be found. These can be served in a traditional mushroom soup, which can be finicky to prepare (so usually only experts make it). Mushrooms are also cooked in butter and served in sandwiches.

Mushrooms, herbs, and flowers are foraged from the nature (both public mountains and private woods). Locals usually don’t buy plants that are wild when they can pick it themselves. Instead, they’re sold to tourists.

Good foraging spots on Moln Mountain are kept secret so people don’t overharvest. The mountains are dangerous in winter, so foraging has to be done in spring or summer.

Harveston brines raw fish like salmon in a mixture of salt, sugar, pepper, and fill. In the old days, brined salmon was buried in sand to let it ferment.

Fish is dried to preserve it and to enhance the flavor. Before there were proper roads, it was hard to bring in food for the winter, so Harveston relied on foods preserved in the spring. They last for a long time and have many uses (such as in soup stock or to eat straight up). To this day, preserved meats and vegetables are a local specialty and new methods such as roasting have been developed for preservation.

Sunset Savanna

General

The food here appears to be inspired by African cultures of the real world.

There is floral cacao in the Sunset Savanna. It bears fruit only once every 10 years.

Gummy bugs are popular and a Halloween staple.

The people of the Sunset Savanna value living in harmony with nature and will go out of their way to adapt to the land (due to the high population of beastmen, who have animal ancestors). Because of this, they oppose change that could damage the environment. There are some parts of this arid country that still rely on wells for their drinking water needs. They also hold the Tamashina-Mina festival every year to pray for rain.

Sautéed mutton is a common meal in this country. Leona brags that the Sunset Savanna is top notch when it comes to cooking meats.

The bananas of the Sunset Savanna are starchy and resemble potatoes (similar to plantains). They are steamed and served as a staple food. They’re faintly sweet and are actually very light and easy to digest.

It’s easier to grow fruit instead of wheat and rice in their climate.

Rice crepes, another staple, are served with a stew that you pour over it. The stew comes in variants such as a white fish stew simmered in tomato sauce, spinach and potato stew, beef stew, etc. There are also many side dishes you can enjoy with the crepes. The crepes aren’t meant to be eaten alone, as they taste too sour solo.

The phrase “that’s the Circle of Life” is a proverb that has been around for ages. The strong eat the weak, then when the strong die, their bodies become nutrients for the grass which feeds the next generation of prey animals. Life comes “full circle”, and the proverb indicates this delicate balance.

The Sunset Savanna is famous for its coffee. It tastes spicy, not bitter, because the custom is to add spices to the drink.

Food prep performances seem to be common for the wealthy; Leona mentions seeing big fish filleted before being served.

Yogurt is considered a “healthy dairy” and is typically served for breakfast.

Elephant Graveyard

The Elephant Graveyard, once considered a scary and lawless place (the “shadow lands” which were not a part of the original kingdom), has become a tourist destination.

They are known for selling vanilla cookies shaped like bones.

The hot springs at the Elephant Graveyard have kettles hidden by the steam. The hot water vapor cooks onsen tamago (a traditionally Japanese irl dish) and puddings. It imparts a slightly salty and sulfurous flavor and smell to the foods.

Sunrise City

The Raintree Market is a bazaar that features many foods and drinks.

Many snacks sold in the marketplaces are local specialties, so they’re popular as souvenirs.

Wild and cultivated hibiscus flowers are boiled with sugar to produce a red juice. There is also a white juice, which is made using wild baobab (which is full of nutrients; people call it a beauty elixir you can drink). A legends says that, long ago, members of the royal family would have their foreheads painted with baobab juice when they were born. That’s how the fruit became a local specialty.

In the original tale, the juice for marking foreheads was red. It seems that, over time, the color was changed to white by word of mouth, with the latter description fitting more with the white fruit of the baobab. Because of this change, more and more stalls have been selling a mixture of hibiscus juice and baobab juice.

The baobab fruit is also used to make a particular sour candy. The candy is dyed with res food coloring and is then dusted with sugar and chili powder. It’s described as having a “mature” flavor.

Mangoes are a local specialty! Vendors will happily cut open the fruit for you to enjoy on the spot.

Other notable fruits for sale are tart passionfruit and creamy but smelly jackfruit. The latter is considered the largest fruit in Twisted Wonderland and grows on its tree’s trunks.

The Sunset Villa is a luxurious hotel that hosts VIPs and important guests of the state. They offer a large selection of drinks (fruit juice, black tea, coffee…) and serve whole slabs of steak in front of you before serving at luxurious barbecues. After dinners, they have dance performances.

There is an enormous sausage that’s wrapped up in a coil. If unwound, it’s a meter long. It’s meant to be cut with scissors before eating. The sausage’s herbs make it taste refreshing, and its meat is finely grounded to allow its flavors to come through.

Seafood is fresh and cheap, provided you live by the sea or in a coastal region like Dawn City. In more inland areas, seafood is considered a luxury.

Their seafood tends to be cooked with strong spices.

Ruggie’s yet-to-be-named hometown

Because the residents are poor, their food is usually made from collected scraps (such as pumpkin pie made predominantly from the pulpy parts) or prepared with substitutions and without extra flourishes. For example, Ruggie’s grandma prepares homemade donuts for his birthday but they couldn't afford fancy toppings (until Ruggie started working to bring in extra income).

It’s implied that there were instances when Ruggie (and presumably others from his hometown) had to eat rotten food or out of trash cans to get by.

Queendom of Roses

General

There is reference to some irl UK foods in this region, such as the jacket potato.

The Queendom of Roses is famous for its rose jelly rolls. Roses are the flower the country is best known for, of course, but they also have lavender, rosemary, sweet violet, foxglove, bluebells, and many berries.

People from this country eat flowers (which are specifically grown for eating). Flowers are also used for dried flower bookmarks? potpourri, etc.

The Queendom has a good selection of breads.

Apparently, the Queendom also has a strong “tea culture”.

People in the Queendom of Roses eat a lot of different pastries (pies, tarts, quiches, croissants, etc). Croissant donuts (cronuts) in particular have been pretty trendy lately. They’re donuts made with croissant batter, so they come out super flaky. They are sometimes sold with iced tea as a combo.

Potatoes are a staple food.

Jacket potatoes are common at festivals; they are potatoes baked with the skin (ie “jacket”) still on. The standard topping for them is baked beans, but you can also have tuna mayo corn, bean chili, sour cream, avocado, and other things.

Anyone that grew up in the Queendom of Roses has probably done the “cookie smash” at least once as a kid. (More info on this under the “Clock Town” section!)

The Queendom is known for lavender, berries, and rosemary.

Riddle and Trey's yet-to-be-named hometown

Trey's family owns a bakery (called "Patisserie Clover" according to the TWST manga). It seems to be a small "mom and pops" shop with no particular notoriety. However, the manga implies that it was the Clover bakery where Riddle saw the strawberry tarts and became entranced by them. This is also where Riddle would later try his first strawberry tart.

In Riddle and Trey's hometown, people enjoy apple bobbing during the Halloween season.

Before interview: Riddle was worried whether they can start on time and was relieved when Vil showed up and Vil was pretty smug about it lmao

There is a farm not too far from where Riddle lives; it is famous for its ice-cream buns. There is also a cafe located on the farm! It opened shortly after Riddle entered NRC and is so popular that it’s spoken about in magazines and tourists go there just to sample their sweets.

Clock Town

The people of Clock Town value time and punctuality due to the town's connection to the White Rabbit, who was always in a hurry. Many of the foods sold at stalls are things that are easy to hold and eat while walking, such as sliced sandwiches.

The Clock Town Folk Museum mentions a girl that appears in the story of the White Rabbit. She ate cookies that made her grow large; the museum recreates this experiment by projecting a large image of guests that eat cookies they have set out.

The Clock Town Folk Museum also runs a bugle-playing contest. The participation prize is a carrot cookie.

Clock Town sells a brand of potato chips with the White Rabbit logo on them.

The town also sells cookies iced to look like a pocket watch. The icing is made from a mixture of sugar and egg whites (“royal icing”) which hardens considerably. You’re meant to crush the cookie with a hammer to make it into smaller pieces, making it easier to eat. It’s based on the story of the White Rabbit breaking his pocket watch. Others tried to help him fix it by hitting it with a hammer, but it didn’t help at all, only damaged it more!

A lot of people enjoy growing plants, gardening, and horticulture, including stuff that can be eaten like herbs.

Sausage rolls are served in pairs to resemble bunny ears; the container they come in resembles the White Rabbit. They’re sausages wrapped in a pie crust/puff pastry dough, and come in cheese (with a shortcrust pastry similar to what is used for tarts to help hold its shape) and a spicy sausage (with a puff pastry that makes it flaky) variant for the White Rabbit Festival.

There are large mushrooms that grow in Clock Town; eating one side will turn you large, eating the other side will turn you small. The girl in the story of the White Rabbit has eaten these strange mushrooms before. These mushrooms are said to be enchanted and only work in a particular area; its effects last for ~1 minute after eating.

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readychilledwine · 8 months

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Slow Hands

Azriel x Vanserra Oc

Azriel returns from a rough mission very sore. The typical ointments Madja uses aren't helping to relieve the tension, so the healer suggests Azriel goes to see Lyria, a pretty little healer who specializes in massage therapy.

Warnings - NSFW, but nothing is graphic. Accidental orgasm from a service. Some swearing. Unedited. Dearest minors, DNI.

Word count- 2,639

Random author's note - I just believe it should be cannon that the Vanserras give the best massages. They're literally fae heating pads/hot water bottles.

Part Two

Azriel walked beside Rhysand in silence as they made their way to the building Madja had asked Azriel to visit.

The two had not spoken since the incident with Elain, but he could tell Rhys, who had paused hand halfway up to knock on the door, wanted to tell him something.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Do you remember me coming home from the mountain and saying I decided to bring a new friend to Velaris?"

Azriel nodded, refusing to verbally break his silence to his brother, to which Rhys rolled his eyes. "This is her. She is Lucien's sister. Be. Kind. She is doing this for you as a favor to me."

Rhys knocked on the door before winnowing away, leaving Azriel standing there awkwardly. Shock set in as golden light flooded the streets. There, in the doorway, smiling gently was the mirror image of the Lady of Autumn, only shorter.

"You must be Azriel," he stared down at the pretty female, mouth going dry as he tried to figure out how to form words. "Come in. I'm Lyria, by the way." She smiled softly at him and continued walking.

Her home was warm, inviting, and comfortable. It smelled like lavender and something slightly medicinal Azriel could not place. "Rhys doesn't normally have his wings out when we do this." Azriel followed her, admiring her legs and ass in her tight leggings, as she directed him through her home. "Are you able to lay on your back?"

"I am." Azriel was studying her fully as they entered a room with a table centered in it and glass bottles lining a cabinet. Her red hair was pulled into braids and pins with a few pieces falling into loose curls. Her high cheekbones reminded Azriel very much of her mother, and her constellation of freckles lining her nose and cheeks were the only clear sign of her relation to Eris. Her golden sun kissed skin, though, that was Azriel's clear indication of who her father truly was.

All in all, he knew she was beautiful. Truly beautiful, and Azriel felt himself thinking of 100 other things he could do with her besides what Rhysand and Madja describe as a "back rub, but better."

He watched Lyria shift, clearly noting the way he was looking at her. "If you're comfortable, I just need you to take all of your clothing off and lay on that table. We will start with you on your back. Just put the towel where you want it for privacy. I can step out. Let me know when you're ready."

Azriel watched her walk out, eyes glued on her body. Rhys, the tone in his mind was slighly annoyed as he felt familiar claws enter his shields.

Azriel, A laughing purr answered back, Is she to your liking?

You're an asshole. A better warning would have been nice. Azriel slammed him out as he finished removing the leathers and siphons from his body before getting on the heated table. He sighed, shadows slowing down and stilling before opening the door and gently grabbing Lyria.

She moved silently through the room, fae lights dimming as she grabbed a few things. "Rhys said you'd prefer lotion over oil, is that accurate?" Azriel just nodded, a feeling of vulnerability sitting in.

He was naked in the presence of a female related to two males who absolutely hated him. A female who could wield fire as easily as breathing. His only comforts were the sign that she clearly thought nothing of his nakedness, and that his shadows had already told him she had no weapons in her home.

"I'm assuming they explained this to you? And let you know I'd be touching you a lot during this?" Azriel confirmed to her quietly they had. "If anything hurts, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, or you just do not like the way it feels, let me know right away. Is it okay if I start?" Consent. She wanted his consent to touch him. He nodded slowly and felt his shoulders instantly tense as she touched him.

Her hands were warm and so soft. Gently moving along the planes of his tight muscles in slow, long strokes. She was using enough pressure to map out areas of his body that were tighter than others but not being rough enough to hurt him. Azriel groaned as she found a knot near this collarbone. Her hands instantly began working in that area. "Does that feel okay?"

"It feels great." The room was filled with the sounds of water running softly, of animals in a forest. It even smelled like the Illyrian Mountains. The soft scent of magic, her magic, floated in the air as Lyria created an environment the High Lord had told her his spymaster would relax easiest in.

Azriel felt himself giving completely into her hands, melting in her touch, eyes closing. He groaned and moaned occasionally in appreciation and pleasure.

"There we go," she whispered softly. "Just relax. I'll take care of you." He felt his mind drifting as she worked down his arms, his torso, the fronts of his thighs.

Lyria was watching the Shadowsinger's little reactions to figure out where to focus, what areas she needed to work longer, and where the male held the most tension. She was also trying to ignore a growing aspect that had begun to pop up.

She worked her way back up to his shoulders, running her hands below his back, between his wings, causing another moan to leave his throat. This one, though, had her pausing. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she gently ran her hands from the spot they were in and up his neck. "I am so sorry."

Azriel chuckled slightly, eyes opening to look up at her. Her bottom lip had tucked between her teeth. She's nervous, his shadows began whispering to him. She was worried she had hurt him or he was feeling violated. "It's okay. They're sensitive, but that feels amazing."

"I can sto-"

"Please, do not stop."

Lyria nodded, her lip still tucked into her teeth. "You can roll onto your back if you'd like, and are um, able to." It was then that Azriel realized what she meant.

"Please tell me this happens all of the time?" His face was flushed as he threw an arm over it. "You have male clients, this happens all of the time right?"

Lyria was instantly giggling. The noise like soft bells in his ears making him smile and relax. "Of course. Rhys especially. Roll over. I want to use a different lotion on your back." Lyria turned away, grabbing a different glass bottle.

Azriel rolled over taking the time to admire her body again. Thinking of how pretty she'd look tied up in his shadows. She'd look pretty in any position, naked or dressed. He put his head down, trying to focus on relaxing and not his growing need to bend her over the nearest surface.

Lyria moved back to him, warming the lotion she had on her hands, "Are you okay with lotion getting in your hair? You carry a lot of tension here," Azriel shivered as she was near the lowest base of his wings. She was being careful not to touch them, but just the ghosting of her fingers near them was causing his touch starved body to react. It also didn't help that her voice was a siren spell, "through the upper part of your spine and into your scalp. I feel like I can work it all out, but I need to get the tension in your scalp out too, or you'll have headaches all the time."

"You can do whatever you want to me," Azriel felt himself tense back up at the response. He knew he meant it. He knew he'd allow his female to take what she wanted from him without hesitation.

"What a generous offer. You'll have to buy me dinner first." Lyria moved. Starting his massage again at his feet.

"Fuck," Azriel groaned. He heard her chuckle as she worked and he relaxed into her touch once more.

Discomfort hit him again as she began to work up his legs, easing the tension in his thighs. "Is this okay? You are really tight on your legs and hips." Azriel nodded at her question, groaning as she began working out knots in areas he would have never suspected. "Am I hurting you?" Gods no, he thought to himself. "Do you want me to talk to you to distract you?"

"Hearing your voice is making it worse." Azriel bit his lip to hold in a moan as she began to work the other side. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, smiling slightly. "Not hurting you then. You are fine, Azriel. Just relax. It's just your body reacting. It's normal."

His name rolling off her tongue made Azriel feel like his soul was lit on fire and an ache started in his chest. He began to imagine what she'd sound like with his head between her thighs, his hands squeezing her breasts, her legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself so deep into her they became one.

Lyria continued her work, ignoring the growing scent of his arousal as the tension in his lower back released. She then made a rookie mistake, leaning across his back to grab her lotion bottle allowing her breasts to run along his body. She said nothing as his wings fluttered and he slightly shivered. She just continued her work.

Azriel was a piece of art, she had decided. His body reminded her of expertly carved marble. Hard muscled cuts from years of training, but they yielded so easily to her touch. Small twitches began to happen as she hit his mid back just below his wings.

Her eyes flicked to where he gripped the soft sheets of the bed as she pulled a heated blanket over his lower half. "Is it too warm?" She knew the scars on his hands all too well, she was hiding her own that danced along her back.

"No, just everything feels really good." His reply was soft, but raspy and deep. She smiled softly as she continued her work, gently going around the lower base of his wings without realizing the stimulation she was causing him.

Azriel was biting his fist under the table as pleasure shot straight to his cock. His body was so relaxed and everything felt intensified. He had been craving touch like this for years now. Soft, gentle, slow. She was taking her time on his back, working out every ounce of tension, every knotted muscle, every single drop of pain he had. His body hadn't felt this good in years, and he hadn't felt relief like this since his last trip to the brothel.

Her hands were heaven on his skin. They were warm and smooth, grazing him with her nails occasionally. She smelled like heaven, too. The soft scent of apples and salted caramel. He could drown in her scent alone if she allowed him to.

He felt the groan slip his throat as she moved to be in front of him and began to work between his wings. "Tell me if you want me to stop. I don't want to hurt you."

Azriel realized slowly he was drowning. This female was about to reduce him to a puddle with the touch of her hands and that alone. He pushed the feeling down. Doing her job, a shadow reminded him.

She worked in silence, noting his soft gasps, whimpers, and moans as she worked the center of his back and sides of both wings. She was finally at the base of his shoulder blades when Azriel's resolve dropped. His hands came to rest on the backs of her thighs, squeezing the plush skin there every so often as she worked the tops of where his wings connected in.

A rough grasp on her thighs as she accidently brushed the ridge of his wing had her gasping slightly, nails digging into his back, making him growl in pleasure. "I'm sorry," she whispered again and tried to back away, only to find herself locked by his large hands.

"That was my fault," he was smirking and pulled her closer. "Please keep going. I'll behave." Lyria bit her lip, her nervous tick he noted, nodding as she went back to work.

She was focusing on working the muscle tension near his wings. She was hoping he'd be able to ignore his pleasure, but as his breathing picked up, his wings twitched, and he moaned for her more, she knew. Lyria knew what was about to happen, but anytime her hands slowed, he gripped her thighs tighter as if begging her to continue.

He was on the edge at this point. He could feel a peak of pleasure within reach as she began working his shoulders and neck. Azriel was trying to hold it in as the pleasure built, but Lyria sealed his fate.

She did a single long stroke, starting between his wings, up his neck, and gently tugged his hair.

It was his undoing as he moaned out loudly, his grip on her thighs moving so he was cupping her ass and digging his fingers into her. His body was slightly shaking, as she scratched his head and played with his hair through his high.

Lyria had her lip between her teeth again. Trying to hide the feminine smile at her ability to bring one of the deadliest males in History to completion with no more than the touch of her hand.

She moved to sit next to Azriel, dropping his right arm over her thighs as she sat next to him, continuing to massage his scalp as he finished coming down, breathing coming back to normal. Once he turned his head to her, she just smiled.

"I know a few places in Autumn you could get help with that problem," she offered gently. "Eris runs a very clean, respectable one. They have males and females. All there by choice because they like to fuck."

Azriel chuckled. "That obvious, huh?" He looked at her. Enjoying the slight flush of her cheeks as her amber eyes met his hazel ones.

"I don't normally have people finish on my table, so we're going to chalk it up to you had a lot of tension to release." She paused, hand still playing with his hair before handing him a towel. "I noticed it building as I was working in your wing bases, but you didn't ask me to stop, and if I tried to, you squeezed my thighs to prevent me from moving. Rhys just said the wings themselves were sensitive. I didn't realize it was that whole area. I am sorry if I've made you feel violated."

He took the towel, cleaning himself and the table as she looked away. He tossed it into her nearby hamper and laid back down. A shadow grabbed her hair and placed it back into his hair.

"He probably did that on purpose. Fucking asshole. I owe you dinner," he finally said. "I'd like to do this again. Hopefully without that happening. I'm hoping that was a one time thing."

Lyria nodded. "We can do the same time next week with dinner beforehand?" He nodded at her, sitting up and studying her face again. "Also, I don't mind if that happens again." She was blushing and tucked her hair behind a delicately pointed ear. "Maybe in different circumstances though."

Azriel smirked, hand reaching to gently pull at her hair, "That could be rearranged."

#acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel acotar

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cheeseanonioncrisps · 14 days

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Stuck on the idea of vampires as a kind of reverse fae, or like someone's twisted, perverse attempt at moulding humans into fae.

They're repelled by liminal spaces.

A vampire could never enter fairyland, not just because they'd never be welcomed, but because most of the usual entry-ways are naturally barred to them.

They can't cross running water. They can't be seen in mirrors. They will wait forever at a crossroads, unable to pick a direction to go in. They can't even step over a thresh-hold unless there is absolutely no ambiguity about whether they are welcome inside.

They crave human blood, iron and salt, but are repelled by herbs and plants. They are supernaturally prevented from harming you unless the rules of hospitality have been invoked.

A fairy may replace your newborn child with something unnatural and ever-hungry. A vampire will do the same, but with your grandmother's corpse.

The fae are typically associated, even in stories where they're the bad guys, with flourishing and purity. Vampires, even in stories where they're the good guys, are typically associated with decay and corruption.

The fae turn ancient human burial mounds into fancy halls for their courts. Vampires take ancient human castles and let them grow mildewed and cobwebbed, exchanging the beds for coffins, turning them into burial places.

Fae don't tend to live among humans, but can generally pass for them with relative ease if they so choose. Vampires nearly always live among humans, but tend to find not revealing themselves a huge struggle.

I can't think of many stories I've read where fae and vampires even exist in the same universe, let alone ones where they actively interact. I feel like their enmity is almost more inevitable than that between vampires and werewolves, however.

The rivalry between vampires and werewolves is, essentially, the rivalry between two apex predator species who share a territory. (Even in stories where the werewolves aren't actually hunting humans.)

The vampires hate the werewolves because the werewolves interfere with their access to prey. The werewolves hate the vampires either because they consider themselves aligned with humans (the prey species), or because they are also predators and the vampires are competing with them.

By comparison, I think there's some story potential in the fae finding something genuinely creepy and uncanny valley about vampires.

They're immortal, like them, but also dead. They can be beautiful, like them, but that beauty is something they actively require humans to sustain. They like to inhabit beautiful and ancient ex-human dwellings, like them, but they actively work to make those places dark, damp and empty.

Fairies who are unflappable in the face of all sorts of Otherworldly monsters, can look an eldritch horror in the eye(s) without blinking, and have never been phased yet by any human, but will recoil from even the weakest vampire.

Vampires who hate fairies just as much, but in a more envious way. The way that the creature for whom immortality is a curse is bound to hate the creatures for whom immortality is an eternity of sunlight and laughter.

Maybe their touches burn each other. Maybe vampires can't stand physical contact with anything so alive and vital. Maybe immortal fairies become ill from too much exposure to the undead.

Maybe they fight over the human population when their territories overlap. The fairy need for servants and people to make deals with, competing with the vampire need for thralls and blood to drink.

Just… fairies and vampires. We need more stories about them interacting.

#vampires #fae #fairies #fantasy #fantasy headcanons #urban fantasy #now imagine all this in the context of an enemies to lovers story

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b00kdiary · 5 months

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Euphoria | Ithan Holstrom

Ithan Holstrom x Plus Size Reader

Where Y/N finds herself needing to be reminded just how desirable she is, and Ithan Holstrom is more than willing to show her. Here's to all my thick, fat, plus-size girlies who want some SJM men love too xo

Warnings: mature themes (18 +) swearing, body-image issues, eventual smut and the Ithan being utterly infatuated with his thick, beautiful lady.

MASTERLIST

I stared, unblinking, as Ruhn Danaan, Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae, kissed his way down the neck of a gorgeous and dark-skinned Faun. I trailed my gaze along as he sucked and bit gently against her soft skin and perfect bone structure, the Faun's eyes closed, her face a mirror of lust and bliss.

The grip I had on my glass tightened and I willed myself not the shatter it, to not draw attention to myself, to how jealous and seething I was.

The fluorescent lights inside the White Raven danced over the two of them, highlighting their ungodly beauty as they danced and rocked against each other to the beat of music. My chest tightened at the way Ruhn's arms wrapped so effortlessly around her slim waist, resting against the perfectly flat length of her stomach, revealed by her cropped bralette.

She was lovely by most standards and typical of the kind of females Ruhn was seen with- tall with small breasts and a small, yet nice ass and petite enough that there wasn't a single place that sat out or rubbed or curved too much.

Unlike me.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat, taking a long indulgent sip of my drink to drive away the dryness and the sorrow. It was hard not to trail my mind into those uncharted, dark waters, the kind of scary, hollow place of insecurity where I could pick myself apart and rip any sense of security I had to pieces.

Because unlike that Faun, who had turned now, her toned back facing me as Ruhn kissed her, kissed her with so much passion and need that it made me feel sick. Unlike her, I was not petite or skinny and I did not look like the kind of girl that Ruhn Danaan desired.

"You're glaring, Y/N." A deep voice interrupted my pity party and snapped me back into this room, away from all the meanest, cruellest thoughts I had of myself.

I turned, levelling out my eyes and surprise-filled me when I met with honey-brown eyes and a smile that could melt a girl's heart and drop her panties.

My lip kicked up as I took in the golden-brown soft waves of hair and tan sun-kissed skin, my gaze moved down, over the acres of strong, corded muscle that was further accentuated by the form-fitting t-shirt he wore.

"Ithan Holstrom," I mused, cocking my head at him, and seeing his lip tilt into a lazy smile "You're the last person I expected to see here, I didn't think this was your kind of scene."

"It's not, not really but," He shrugged, glancing over his broad shoulder to where a few wolves sat gathered around a table "But the pack forced me."

"You don't strike me as the type of guy who can be forced to do anything," I raised a brow, tossing a long strand of hair over my shoulder and felt Ithan's eyes track each movement. "Don't try and hide it, you came here for a good time, a good fuck maybe?"

He chuckled at my playful words, the sound rough and heady, running over me and prickling my skin. I forced myself to breathe as he stepped closer, close enough that his hard chest brushed against my breasts, and I felt the warmth and scent of him.

"Is that what you came for?" He asked, though his words weren't a question, not as he looked over my head, his stare pointed, straight to where Ruhn and that Faun stood "Or were you planning to glare at Ruhn Danaan all night, hoping he'd notice you?"

"Don't be a prick," I scowled, my lip curling and I pushed at his chest, hearing a rough bark of laughter escape him as he saw the fire burning in my eyes " I might be pining after Ruhn, but it's no different to how you trailed after Bryce like a lost puppy all these years, Holstrom."

His eyes darkened at that- those honeyed pupils shadowing into a starless night sky. Bryce was a sore topic still, even after two years and I felt guilt gnaw at me, hating myself for mentioning her, for the way that smile tilted down now.

"Bryce didn't want me, I knew she didn't," Ithan gritted back, his jaw locked and his eyes hard "Ruhn might want you, he could want you as badly as you want him, you're just too scared to find out."

"I'm not scared," I said defensively, crossing my arms over my chest, and yet again, I didn't miss how his steely gaze fell, something sparking in them as my top lowered and revealed my ample cleavage. I clear my throat, ignoring the twist in my gut "I'm just realistic, I know Ruhn's type, I've seen his type and I know I'm not it."

"His type?" Ithan mused, raising a dark, thick brow at me "What? Gorgeous? Desirable? No, you're definitely not his type." It was sarcastically drawled, accompanied by a sassy eye roll and it was the least serious I had seen Ithan in years- since Connor died.

"Try petite, skinny and perfect," I snort, but my voice isn't as joking as I would like, it's heavier, weighed down by the reality of the words.

"Bullshit, Y/N," Ithan scowls, and the way his eyes glared out in protest, in defence, it was as if he was furious at me for even saying what I did. "If Ruhn fucking Danaan thinks you're not perfect then he's a bigger asshole than I already thought he was."

I felt my face heat, my body turning hot and needy at his words, at the honesty and conviction behind them. He stepped closer, close enough that I smelt the mint and alcohol on his warm breath, and a fire sparked in my core- and I didn't step back.

"You think I'm perfect?" I whispered, my voice hoarse and shaking slightly. I couldn't stop staring into his eyes, couldn't stop watching the lust roil in them, darkening them by each second, we inched closer, drawn together like magnets. "Don't fuck with me Ithan, I mean it."

"Y/N, while you were busy glaring down Danaan and the Faun," Ithan said, his voice slipping into a low timbre, the gruffness clawing over my nerves and making me breathless "I was staring at you."

"You were?" My voice was softer than I wanted it to be, but my defences were wearing down. I had always found Ithan attractive, always wondered what he would be like as more than a friend. And as his hand snaked around my waist, large, veined, and ringed, and slowly dragged me to him, I knew that those feelings hadn't faded with time.

"You might not believe me, but I was staring at you, alongside damn near every other male in this room, Y/N," Ithan muttered, his face inches from mine and when his nose brushed against my cheek, my eyes fluttered. "If you had just looked around you, you would have seen how many wanted you- and how could they not?"

I felt his hand trail down my back and sides, over the rolls and curves of flesh, and I felt nauseous, hating that he could feel it. But he growled, a purely animal sound, his fingers digging into my flesh as if he was holding himself back as if touching me brought him to the edge of his control.

"Ithan," I swallowed, steeling my spine, and forcing back the fierceness and power I was used to wielding with men, "I'm not Bryce Quinlan."

"And I'm not Ruhn Danaan," He shot back immediately, his lip quirking "But that doesn't change the fact that I fucking want you, and I know you want me too."

I inhaled a shaky, long breath, my throat drying out at his words and at all the sinful, dirty images that flashed through my mind, filthy enough that I had to clench my thighs shut.

"Let's walk to yours, no cab," I say hoarsely, ignoring the way he grinned as I grabbed his hand and began dragging him to the exit. He followed dutifully, his fingers interlocking with mine, his thumb brushing soothing, soft strokes against my palm.

"Why?" He laughed, his brow raising at me as I glanced over my shoulder and I didn't miss the way my body ignited, striking, and burning as his gaze trailed over my skin.

"Because I can't promise I won't ride you in the back seat," I said honestly, gnawing on my lip as my eyes met his over my shoulder "And I don't want the night to end before it's even begun."

"Fuck," Ithan swore, low and dirty, and I could smell his arousal.

Just like I knew he could smell mine.

***

We walked through The Wolves Den with ease, silent and quick-paced as we waded through each corridor and climbed floor after floor.

Ithan had wanted to take the lift straight to his floor and had been so on edge that he looked as if he might have taken me against the wall in the goddamn lobby if I had given him the say-so. But I wanted him at breaking point, wanted that wolf inside him to come out clawing, biting and roaring.

So instead, we walked, each second that passed and the silence that stretched drawing the tension tauter and tauter, and I could feel my blood thrum in anticipation. Ithan looked over at me as we walked down the final corridor- and the smirk he wore, the knowing gleam in his eyes, told me everything he wanted to do.

"You have got to be kidding me, Ithan," A voice declared, female and high-pitched, loud enough that it grated against my senses and had both of us coming to a reluctant halt. I eyed the fifth door, which happened to be Ithan's room, with need. "Bringing the trash home?"

"Watch it, Amelie," Ithan growled, his eyes tapering in warning as he turned to glare at the dark-haired, golden-eyed female before him. His pack member- and a total hateful bitch.

"Why? Scared I'll scare away your whore for the night?" She snorted, her arms folding over her chest as she looked at me, amusement and cruelty gleaming in her eyes. I saw her stare trail between us, taking in our interlocked hands, the way our arousals wafted in the air, and she scowled.

Jealous, that much was obvious.

"Hey, Ithan?" I mused, glancing sideways at him, and smiling sweetly. He rose a brow at me, confused and half-amused. "Are the walls here thin?" I stared pointedly, past Amelie, to the open door at her side, number four- right next to Ithan's.

Ithan seemed to catch onto my thought trail and chuckled lowly, nodding his head "Very thin."

"Amelie," I smirked, my hand trailing up Ithan's muscled chest as he punched in the code and pushed open his room door, "When you touch yourself tonight, imagining that Ithan's fucking you and not me, don't be too loud- Ithan might hear it and go limp."

"You fucking-" Her eyes burned, and so did her cheeks, outrage and embarrassment filling her as she stepped toward me.

"Have a good night, I know I will." I winked and Ithan's laughter flittered over to me, caressing my skin like a phantom touch. The door clicked shut behind me, and suddenly, Amelie was gone, and it was just me and him, in his room, together, and alone.

"I don't think I've ever seen Amelie that red before, she's not used to being put in her place like that," Ithan noted, his eyes dancing with amusement as he leaned against the back of his sofa "She's not going to let that go, you know?"

"Amelie's a neurotic, insecure bitch," I scowl, walking a few tentative steps further into his room, "She can get fucked, I couldn't care less."

Ithan doesn't say anything else, remaining silent as my gaze lifts and washes over his room. I take in the four bare walls and the simple brown sofa, glass table and TV, a large double bed at the furthest wall and a chest of drawers and a matching wardrobe at its side.

"Not what you were expecting?" Ithan asked, cocking his head to the side as he observed my expression. I pursed my lips, looking over his folded arms, the way the muscles bulged, and I swallowed.

"I'm not sure what I expected," I say honestly, my voice quiet and when I slowly began to walk over to Ithan, I felt the tension in the air go taut. I paused, standing just before where he sat on the sofa's back, looking at me with a wry smile. "Were you being honest when you said that the walls are thin?"

"I was," He chuckled, revealing two sharp canines on either side of his upper teeth and I shivered at the sight of them. I imagined them against my skin, teasing, scrapping, and biting and I clenched my hands. "Were you being honest when you said you would be having a good night?"

I smiled at the heat in his eyes, at the way we were so close, yet we didn't touch not in one single place, and I knew he was holding out, restraining himself from grabbing on to me, just as I was.

"I plan to have a good night," I say, cocking my head in challenge "But really, it's up to you how good of a night for me it is."

One second, I'm standing before Ithan, smirking, cocky as I watch the lust burning in his eyes, and then the next, his fingers are wrapping around my throat, his ring digging into my jugular as he pulls me to him.

I groan as his mouth collides with mine and my body shakes at the heady, desperate way his lips move against me, tasting me, devouring me, taking me like it's his last night on Midgard. I melted into the strength and solidity of him, his hand at my throat, the firm pressure there, making my body turn weak.

Ithan's lips move against me, deep, languished strokes that fan the embers sparking in my stomach and I dig my nails into his chest, curling my fingers around the fabric of his t-shirt, needing to tether myself to him, to keep myself upright.

I whimper at the feeling of his left hand descending my body, his fingers gripping against every bit of flesh and curve with need, all the way from the top of my spine to the curve of my ass, and he groans as he cups me, the flesh spilling out and soft against his palm.

“Bed, now,” I pull back, my faces only inches from his and we’re both panting wildly, lust and need dancing in our gazes, like a mirror.

“Hm, not sure I’m a fan of being told what to do in my own place, sweetheart,” Ithan smirks, and my eyes flutter as he draws me closer, biting and suckling against my neck, the feeling of his canines against my skin driving me crazy. “Why don’t you try again?”

“Stop trying to be an alpha male, Ithan,” I manage to grit out, desperately trying to force down the moans that threaten to slip past my lips, but his mouth and tongue against my hot skin make it so hard. “We both know you’re really just a puppy- ah-“

A squeal escapes me as both of Ithan’s arms wrap around me, hooking under my ass and there’s a whoosh of air as he yanks me up into his arms, so fast my heart lurches and I’m locking my legs around his waist and holding onto his t-shirt so tightly I’m surprised it didn’t tear.

“You’re far too coherent right now,” Ithan grumbles and fuck if the sound of it doesn’t go straight between my legs. I hold onto him tighter as he begins to carry me over to bed, looking as if my weight is less than nothing to him right now. “I’m going to need to fix that.”

“Please do,” I whisper, tossing my hair from my face and bringing my lips back against his, slower, deeper, the hardness and ridges of his body brushing against my breasts feeling so good and the long, thick length rubbing against my thigh feels even better.

Ithan smirks against my lips as we thump against the bed and true to his word, Ithan drops me on the bed, so hard and fast I grunt at the impact, my body and tits bouncing as I land on my ass. The sight makes him smile, and the way he towers over me, looking like some kind of God has every nerve in my burning.

“You’re fucking incredible,” He mutters, and the honey in his eyes is gone, melted into the darkest chocolate, the kind that told me every filthy, heady, dirty thing he wanted to do to me. I leaned back on my palms as he rested a knee on the mattress, lowering his pleased face down to mine. “But I bet you’d look even better without all the clothes.”

His hand snakes around to the zip at the back of my top and fuck, fuck, fuck- I freeze.

“Or not?” He mutters, a crease forming between his brows at the way my body physically locks up and his hand immediately stops, resting flat against my back, his thumb rubbing softly to soothe me. “We don’t have to do that if you don’t want-“

“No, no-“ I shake my head, clearing my throat as I bring a hand to cup his jaw, loving the way he melts into the touch, “It was just a habit, a muscle memory reaction- No, trust me, I want to, I want you, Ithan.”

“Good, because I want you too, Y/N,” He mutters, smiling as he brings his mouth down, but he doesn’t pull at the zipper, instead he kisses me, tastes me, and enjoys me, and my hands curl into the root of his hair, glad for that moment of reprieve.

I can tell he’s being sweet because he is sweet, and now that he knows I’m hesitating, he won’t make the next move until he’s sure I’m ready- and I am, I am so fucking ready.

I pull back from him, my eyes locking with his and the room is so silent, deadly silent, as I draw my hand back and ever so slowly tug down the zipper to my top. The sound is almost sensual, making Ithan’s face darken, in anticipation, in feral lust.

I gnaw on my lip as the zipper pulls free and still keeping my eyes on his, I draw the top forward, down my arms, every movement deliberate until the fabric is discarded on the floor beside us. Ithan says nothing as he stares down at me, as he stares down at my bare chest, my breasts heavy and aching and I’ve never been gladder that I chose not to wear a bra.

His Adam’s apple bobs and the breath seizes in my lungs as his cold hand traces across my back, around to my chest and he groans, low and deep, the second his hand cups around my breast. I gasp as he kneads the flesh, his fingers slowly and deliberately tugging on my pebbled nipple.

“Ithan,” I growl, I can’t help it, he’s staring at me, looking like he wants to devour me, but he hasn’t bloody moved. “Do something, for Cthona’s sake.”

“So needy,” He croons, and I nearly sigh when he leans forward again and pushes me back to lay flat against the mattress. My body shivered as he climbed onto the bed, his large figure moving to hover over me, and I felt almost small in comparison to him, a feeling that was unfamiliar to me.

He kissed lower down my neck, his mouth inching closer as his hand kneaded my breast, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers and tugging gently igniting so many sparks that I couldn't even speak, merely moaning breathlessly with each sure touch.

I gasped when his head ducked, his eyes shielded by the strands of hair that fell forward as he plucked one nipple into his mouth. My back arched and my fingers dug into his shoulders hard enough to hurt as the raw feeling of his tongue and teeth teased me.

“Ithan,” I moaned when he began biting against my nipple, not too hard, but firm enough that I felt the shock go through every nerve ending, sparking, burning, and throbbing, so hard I felt it in my core.

My head spins as Ithan begins shifting lower, and I cringe when he begins trailing his hands down my stomach, instantly thinking over every roll and stretch mark and flesh that was there- not that he seemed to mind. No, he kissed against the skin, trailing his tongue languidly down, just as infatuated as he had been before.

The tension in the air is thick as Ithan runs his calloused hands down the side of my thick thighs, kneading the flesh and teasing the material of my skirt, his intentions obvious. And with the ache beginning to become unbearable between my legs, I don’t hesitate to lift my hips, glad when he immediately hooks his fingers into the top of my skirt- pulling it and my underwear down in one go.

It’s almost amusing how quickly he discards the excess material over his shoulder, so transfixed on the sight of my naked body before him, sprawled out and burning from the intensity of his gaze.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” He groans, his voice hoarse and the tightness coiling in my chest eases as he runs his hand up my thighs, feeling the cellulite and stretch marks and grins as he spread my legs apart for him to come between.

My heart races in anticipation as he sinks down below my parted thighs, his eyes burning with satisfaction as he comes level to my core, and the urge to clamp my legs shut fills me- which he seems to sense, if his strong grip on either side of my thigh, keeping spread wide apart is any indication.

I feel his hot breath against my most sensitive part and just when I feel like the seconds are dragging into minutes, making me fidgety and restless, I gasp at the feeling of his tongue flicking against my clit, soft and probing, coaxing out quiet moans from me.

“That’s it,” Ithan purrs and the sound vibrates against my core, making me clench my fingers into the duvet under me for purchase. Ithan seems encouraged by my moans, his tongue lapping against my clit in long languish strokes that draw pleasure from me in waves. “Taste so fucking good.”

He grins against me, cocky, sure, and under any other circumstances I’d hate it, but right now, I can’t find it in me. Instead, I reach down, lacing my fingers through his soft hair, tugging, yanking, and scratching, coaxing Ithan to give me more- which he happily does.

“Fuck, oh my-“ Two fingers prod my wet entrance, and the sound is so lewd as he quickly stuffs the two digits inside me, stretching me in the most perfect yet painful way, especially when he curls those two digits, hitting a spot that has me seeing stars.

“There we go,” Ithan coaxes softly, feeling my body start to vibrate and writhe, that pool of pleasure building and building within me, plummeting fast and harder as he fucks his fingers in and out steadily, in tandem with the smooth agile movement of his tongue against my clit. “There we go, such a good girl.”

I cry out, trembling and moaning as a white-hot blaze burns through me, starting at my core and running into my thighs and stomach, all the way down to my toes. I pant, my head fogging with the overwhelming blanket of pleasure that Ithan’s smothered me with.

Ithan groans, his teeth tugging at my sore clit before he eventually lets go, his fingers slipping out of me with ease. I exhale harshly at the loss of contact, sagging back as the euphoria dies down and my body settles into calm again.

Ithan ascends my body, a shit-eating grin on his wet lips and I don’t have time to even speak before he captures my mouth in his, pushing his tongue deep into me, letting me taste myself.

“How’s that for a puppy, sweetheart?” He mutters, biting my bottom lip and I roll my eyes at the sheer masculine satisfaction in his voice, in those bright eyes as he stares at me.

“Don’t be an arrogant prick,” I snipe back, ignoring Ithan’s laughter as I place either hand on his shoulder and the surprise that lights his face as I yank him down onto the bed beside me, flipping us so that I’m straddling him, makes me grin. “I’m still in charge, Ithan.”

“If this is you being in charge, I’m not fucking complaining,” He smirks lazily, his voice heavy with lust as he leans back, his eyes oh so slowly trailing across my body atop his, looking like the cat that got the cream as he enjoys every inch of me.

I smile, soft, as I run my hands against the seam of his t-shirt, my thumbs hooking under the material and slowly dragging it up- revealing inch after inch of tan, smooth skin, so much corded muscle it makes me hot. Ithan easily helps, and it’s not long before the material is over his head and thrown to the ever-growing pile of clothes on his floor.

I drag my core against the front seam of Ithan’s jeans, and our groans mix in the air at the feeling of his hard length brushing against me. I don’t waste any time, Ithan’s eyes never leaving me as I move my hands to the front of his jeans, my fingers fumbling against the button and zipper, almost desperate as I open them, tugging the materials down just a little.

“Shit,” I mutter, my eyes widening as Ithan’s hard cock slips out, breaking free and slapping back against his stomach. Ithan snorts at my reaction, at the sheer surprise on my face at the size of him, and my cheeks heat in embarrassment as he smiles at me. “Shut up.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” His eyes flutter as I grip my hand around his hard length, my fingers struggling to find purchase as I palm up and down, every moan and gasp that escapes him egging me on. “You’re fucking killing me here, sweetheart.”

“Poor puppy,” I tease, smirking and Ithan’s canines expose in warning, his hands coming to either side of my hips, and when he slowly lifts me up, dragging me closer to him, I prepare myself for the feeling of him inside me.

“Shit, shit,” I moan as Ithan’s cock brushes my entrance and I ever so slowly sink down, down, down, until he’s stretching me like he’s going to break me in two, until his tip brushes something far and deep inside me.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Ithan swears, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips and thighs so tightly, I can feel the cut of his nails.

I flutter my eyes as the burn soon seeps into pleasure and we both suck in a gasp of air when I drag up, so deliberate and slow, all the way to the tip, before slamming back down, hard and fast. Ithan swears, his chest rising and falling so fast as I do it again and again, his cock slipping against my wet core like it was made for me.

“Ithan, oh-“ I whimper as I ride up and down his cock, alternating between fast, hard strokes and long, slow ones, Ithan’s hands at my hips guiding me along, helping me chase after the relief, and I know I won’t last long, not with the cord within me tightening so perfectly.

“Look at you riding my cock so well,” Ithan praises roughly, his teeth gritted as he pants and moans every time he sinks into me, and when my eyes lock with his, I’ve never felt more seen, more desired in my life. “Look at those tits bouncing, fuck, taking me so good Y/N.”

He ruts his hips up to meet me, the sound of him fucking in and out of me, so wild and demanding, is like music in the room, mixing with our moans, our low curses, and the way our hands wander over each other, unable to get enough.

My fingers scratch against Ithan’s chest and abs, my body starting to shake and weaken at how good it feels, how he’s hitting against a spot that makes my insides turn to mush, again and again. Ithan must sense my fatigue, sense my head spinning, because he grabs me, and within seconds, we’ve flipped over and he’s on top of me now.

His hand guides my thighs around his hips and my eyes roll, my back arches, as he sinks in even deeper and I whimper into his lips, into his mouth at the brutal pace he sets, slamming into me again and again, unrelenting, and merciless, so fucking good I can’t catch my breath.

My eyes flutter open as Ithan’s hand wraps around my throat, pressing firmly on either side of my neck and when my eyes meet his when I see the burning, commanding, domineering power behind them, it’s like something in me rips in two.

He hits a spot, some magic, fathomless spot inside me and it all shatters to pieces like glass.

“Ithan, I’m-“ I cry out, black dots blurring my vision and my body bucking and writhing against his hard muscles as release ripples over me like a tidal wave. Ithan grunts as I clench around him, suffocating his cock inside me, the orgasm hitting me and lasting longer than I’ve ever had.

“That’s it, that’s fucking it,” Ithan whispers, panting against my lips, and I feel his movements become sloppier, more erratic, more careless, driven to the edge by me coming around him. “Everyone in the whole fucking Dens gonna know whose making you feel this good.”

I whimper at the filthy words he grunts into my ear, my body trembling with the aftermath of my orgasm, edged on by the way Ithan still fucked in and out of me, chasing his own high and when his forehead rests against mine and he groans, guttural and heady and low, I know he’s found it.

The sound he makes, the growl that escapes him, reverberates through the whole damn room and my body is aching as he comes to a gradual stop inside me, our sweaty, panting bodies, melting into each other as we climb down from our peaks.

Ithan groans as he slowly slips out of me, the feeling of his warm cum leaking from me and dripping down my skin making me blush, and the small smirk that lines his lips as he inches back to look at me tells me he finds it both amusing and adorable.

“I can feel your cum leaking down my thigh,” I breathe and Ithan's eyes flutter, rolling as he laughs, burying his face into my neck dramatically, as if I were completely ruining him.

“Keep saying shit like that, Y/N and I might just have to chain you to this bed,” Ithan mutters against my skin, kissing and nibbling across my neck and jaw before he meets my lips again, kissing me sweetly as if memorising the taste and feel of me.

“After that, I’m tempted to let you, Ithan,” I grin, sighing as he rests his weight on top of me, his arms on either side making sure not to crush me, but the warmth and touch is welcome.

“Are you still thinking about Ruhn Danaan?” He muses, cocking his head, and the honey has returned back to his eyes, that smile turning boyish and soft again as he stares down at me.

“No,” I say simply, honestly, dragging my hand up his chest and neck, before settling against his jaw, my thumb drawing lines across the hard ridge there. “Are you still thinking about Bryce Quinlan?”

“Definitely not,” He smiles, earnest and firm and the sight makes my entire body heat again.

“Good,” I let my eyes darken, letting him see just what I was thinking as I wrap a leg around his hip, drawing his hardening cock back down against me- and he grins with feral delight at the action. “Because I haven’t quite gotten you out of my system yet, Puppy.”

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

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

#sarah j maas #sjm books #crescent city #crescent city smut #ithan holstrom #ithan holstrom x reader #ithan holstrom smut #ithan holstrom x plus size reader #smut #plus size reader #plus size smut #plus size y/n #acotar #tog fanfic

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theresattrpgforthat · 3 months

Note

Games with an atypical division of Player/GM responsibilities? For example, in Fellowship, the players have final say in lore/world building questions, not the GM. (Not counting GMless games, which have atypical GM duties by default)

Alternatively, if that's too niche: any games explicitly designed for rotating GMs and/or 'West Marches' style campaigns.

THEME: Unique Player Responsibilities / Rotating GMs

Hello there! I hope to do your ask justice, although I feel more at home talking about the first half of your question than the second. I’ll ask my followers to supply some more suggestions in the tags/reblogs, and throw at you what I have!

Fae’s Anatomy, by Hebanon Games.

Fae’s Anatomy is a comedic storytelling RPG wrapped around a challenging logic puzzle, recreating the high-stakes melodrama of medical procedurals like Grey’s Anatomy, House, and General Hospital.

Anybody can be an expert in Fae’s Anatomy. The game is set in a world where all forms of magic, spirituality, and mysticism are science. Science? Just another form of wizardry. Quackary, superstition, and pseudo-science work, but so does chemotherapy, antibiotics, and sound medicine.

In many ways, I’d say Fae’s Anatomy feels like a typical ttrpg: you have one person giving hints and clues to the rest of the players, who will use certain skills and abilities to solve a problem. But the closest role to the GM role - the Patient - is simply different from the doctors in what limits them. The Patient is suffering from some kind of mysterious illness, and while they have a little bit of information available to their general illness, the app presented to them to help them run through the diagnosis keeps the solution obscured enough to keep them on their toes. The Patient also has to role-play their symptoms well enough to help point the doctors in the right direction. In some ways, it feels like Fae’s Anatomy is an elegant form of charades - and if you want to hear how this game plays, you can check out the special episodes that Lawful Great Adventures recorded using this game!

Apocalypse Keys, by Rae Nedjadi @temporalhiccup

The Doomsday Clock is ticking down and emotions run high as you and your team of DIVISION agents struggle to find the Keys before the villainous Harbingers unlock the Doors of Power and bring about the apocalypse.

As an Omen class monster, you are the only thing capable of holding back the apocalypse. Combat occult threats and investigate supernatural phenomena alongside your team of supernatural agents working for the shadowy DIVISION. But in a world that shuns monsters like you, only your deepest, most heartfelt bonds can grant you the power to stop those who seek to unlock Doom’s Door.

There are two ways in which Apocalypse Keys uniquely empowers the players in ways I consider slightly unorthodox. Firstly, there’s the fact that the lore of DIVISION, the shadowy government agency that holds your monsters leash, isn’t fully fleshed out at the beginning of play. It’s slowly uncovered with each mission and playbook advancement, with the players being presented with questions and workshopping the answers together.

Second is the mystery mechanic, which was popularized by Brindlewood Bay and The Between, and also made its way into games such as External Containment Bureau and Bump in the Dark. While the GM designs clues and thinks about what kinds of Harbingers might be responsible for this specific apocalypse, it’s up to the players to decide what the answer to the mystery actually is - and it’s the player’s roll that determines how accurate they are.

Brinkwood, Blood of Tyrants, by Far Horizons Co-Op.

Mask up. Spill blood. Drink the Rich.

The world is not as it should be. The rich feed, literally, upon the poor, as blood-sucking vampires who barely bother to conceal their horrific, parasitic nature. The downtrodden peoples of the world struggle under the burdens of rent, payable through the sweat of their labor or the blood of their veins. Evil has triumphed. Many have given in to despair. But all is not lost.

In Brinkwood, you take on the role of renegades, thieves, and rebels struggling for freedom and liberation in a castylpunk world controlled by vampires. Radicalized by tragedy, you have taken up arms and fled into the forests, where you were taken in by unlikely allies - the fae, forgotten creatures of myth - who offered a different path and the means to fight back against your oppressors. Masks, forged of old wood and older magic, are the final tool left to fight a war long ago lost. If you wear them, they will take their price, etching themselves upon your very soul. But they will also let you spill the blood of the rich and powerful vampires that now rule the land, and from that blood strengthen yourself and your movement.

There’s a lot of things about Brinkwood that I absolutely love, from the way the mask playbooks are meant to be swapped among the characters/players with every mission, to the slow but steady revolution that you build by fostering connections with various factions in the Bloody Isles. But for the purpose of this request, we need to talk about Your Exquisite Fae.

Your Exquisite Fae is the process by which the group collaboratively creates a faerie patron, otherworldly and uniquely powerful. It’s inspired by the game Exquisite Corpse, which has each player draw a piece of a drawing without knowing what the others have already created. In Your Exquisite Fae, the players receive answers to prompts written by other players but aren’t given hints as to what the context was - and then they elaborate on what those answers mean. For example, one player might state that the Fae has eyes that reflect the night sky, gleaming like a thousand distant starts. The second player might decide that those eyes see the deepest fears of the enemy, giving the group an advantage at finding weaknesses and secrets when spying on vampires.

Ars Magica, by Atlas Games.

Ars Magica is the award-winning roleplaying game by Jonathan Tweet and Mark Rein•Hagen about wizards and their allies in Mythic Europe. This flexible, deeply built world can support games that are historically accurate or fantasy-based, epic or small scale, political or personal.

Players work together to tell the story of their covenant — all of the magi, their companions, and grogs. This history can span decades. It might be heroic, tragic, or both in turn. The covenant could influence the entirety of Mythic Europe or the fates of a small corner of the world.

Spells will be cast. Duels won and lost. Houses may rise and fall. But magic is forever.

The last time I talked about this game, one of my followers pointed out that this was an incredibly complex game that was designed to accommodate rotating GMs. The game styles itself as a troupe-style game, which means you’re not just responsible for your mages, but also your companions and servants. If you want a game with complex relationships and big-picture conflicts, this might be the game for you.

Slugblaster, by Mikey Hamm.

In the small town of Hillview, teenage hoverboarders sneak into other dimensions to explore, film tricks, go viral, and get away from the problems at home. It’s dangerous. It’s stupid. It’s got parent groups in a panic. And it’s the coolest thing ever.

This is Slugblaster. A table-top rpg about teenagehood, giant bugs, circuit-bent rayguns, and trying to be cool.

It may look like a small thing, but during crew creation, each character playbook has specific roles in determining the crew’s resources and relationships. The Grit picks a faction that trusts the crew. The Guts chooses a faction that the crew has somehow annoyed. Each player draws a portal between the known multiverses, but the Smarts draws two. The Chill has final say over where you hang out when you’re not Slugblasting, and The Heart has final say over your crew name.

I’ve drawn direct inspiration from this setup in my own game that I’m playtesting, by giving each playbook final say over some element in the world, and I think it really boosts player agency and gives them control over the kind of story the group wants to tell.

Planedawn Orphans, by Sharkbomb Studios.

Planedawn Orphans is a campaign kit that helps you prepare a campaign for the fantasy role-playing game of your choice. It provides a flexible and versatile framework to start a campaign. The campaign kit will help you get started and provide structure and support, but some assembly is required.

Set in the Planar City, a strange melting pot that connects the vast diversity of the multiverse. You all play Planar Orphans stranded in this city, your original home worlds destroyed, corrupted or lost. A mysterious Patron has brought you together, provided you with a base of operations and tasked you to complete a Planar Key. This key will let you create a new plane for you and your fellow refugees. Your quest will bring you to exotic places filled with strange creatures and bizarre phenomena.

This isn’t a standalone rpg, but rather a campaign kit for whatever system you like - or even multiple systems! I’m recommending this toolkit because I’m actually planning to use it to run a series of rotating-gm games later this year, with a friend of mine. You’re building your own custom dimension by jumping into a series of vastly different worlds, and your home base is built collectively. There’s a lot of player agency and GM agency here, as players have plenty of control over their home dimensions (since they can’t ever go back) and the GMs can take turns designing custom worlds for the party to jump into. I definitely recommend checking it out.

Also Check Out

Asymmetrical Games Rec Post

#rotating gms #unique player responsibilities #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #asks #indie ttrpg

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blues824 · 10 months

Note

characters of your choice with a yor forger like reader/mc? this is for any fandom

We are going to make this a Diasomnia fic. Female-coded reader who is called ‘mama’, and Anya is here because why not.

Malleus Draconia

When someone says the word assassin, he typically thinks of someone who is killing someone just for money. There is no emotion, no words, just a killer. That was, until the first time he met you. He trespassed onto Ramshackle, as he had a love of exploring old, abandoned buildings, when he was immediately tackled to the floor. He looked to see who was now straddling him only to see the most beautiful person in the world.

“If I may ask, who are you and what are you doing here, sir?” The last thing he expected to hear was you politely asking him something. You held no fear in your eyes, but rather curiosity, even as you held a weapon of some sort against the dragon fae’s neck. To be fair, he could easily use his magic to save himself, but he kind of wanted to know what would happen if he let this play out.

“I would rather you not know my identity, but I am here just to explore Ramshackle. I was not aware that it was being inhabited, otherwise I would not have appeared without an invitation.” He watched you as you glared into his eyes, trying to see if he was lying. Well, you deemed him trustworthy and got off of him. You then put your hairpin back in your pocket and awkwardly apologized. He was just glad that his new friend was able to defend themself.

Then, a little girl peaked out from the stairs and called out for you, mama. This surprised Malleus, as he did not know you had a child. Again, he had only had a rather… interesting… introduction with you just a few moments ago. You both could tell that this would be a very intriguing friendship… or relationship in the future.

Both of you grew close over the next few overblots. It was hard not to, especially when he was so helpful in both taking them down and cleaning them up. He grew close to Anya, who also wasn’t afraid of him and knew that he was just a lonely (thus eligible) bachelor. Her and Lilia were totally working together in playing matchmaker. Actually, whenever the dragon prince visited you and your daughter, it would be like a small glimpse into a possible future with you.

He obviously would take over the cooking while you took over the cleaning. You stated your desire to live as normal a life as you could while you were here. The prospect of you, the person who he now sees as his honorary spouse, and Anya, the girl who he sees as his honorary daughter, going back to your original world upset him greatly. You gave him a sense of domesticity, but he knows that you never planned on staying.

Lilia Vanrouge

Maybe he shouldn’t have been going around and scaring the underclassman. To be fair, a lot of them merely just jumped from the sudden surprise of a person hanging from the ceiling upside down. However, that was not the case with you. You not only nearly punched him in the face, but also pulled him down and flipped him to the ground, then proceeded to straddle him and hold a knife to his neck.

“I don’t think this is going to work, my dear,” he said with a smile as he quickly flipped you over and straddled you instead while holding a small switchblade to your neck. “I prefer being on top, but I believe that I should take you to dinner before anything happens.” He stood up and offered you his hand before saying, “I am Lilia Vanrouge, knight of His Royal Highness, Malleus Draconia.”

You introduced yourself as the Prefect of Ramshackle, and told him that you were heading back there now. So, being the gentleman that he was and being kind of sad about scaring you, he offered to walk you back. You agreed, and you both made your way to your rickety, old dormitory. He noticed that you were a bit socially awkward, so he kind of carried the conversation.

Almost immediately upon crossing the threshold of your dorm, a little girl rushed up to you and yelled out ‘mama!’. The sight was adorable for the old bat fae to witness, and he asked who the ‘young damsel’ was. You told him that she was your adopted daughter, and he would have been surprised had you not been already shrouded in mystery.

Over the next few months, Lilia has grown closer to you. You both suck at cooking and while you are trying to get better, he still wants creative freedom. Thus, you often either order in or stick to the recipe. You often ask the ex-general if you are doing alright as a mother, and he often reassures you that there is no correct way to be a parent. You were doing your best with what you had, and you were doing exceptionally well.

You eventually became the mother figure to not only Anya, but also the rest of the Diasomnia crew. They considered your daughter to be their younger sister. Lilia stood next to you as the father figure, which honestly surprised everyone because you both were the exact opposite of each other. Silver has stated that this felt like the set-up to a weird sitcom, but treats you as though you were his mother… especially after you flipped Sebek over your shoulder during a training session.

Silver

When you met, you didn’t actually try to kill him. Instead, you were trying to make sure he was alive. He was asleep under a tree, and you saw him and decided to wake him up. You saw that he was alive as his chest was rising, and when his eyes opened up he was surprised to see somebody. However, his training as a knight had him convinced that you were trying to kill him.

Thus, he grabbed you by the shoulders and tackled you to the ground. He had a knife to your neck as he demanded to know your name and your business in trying to kill him, to which you responded by turning the two of you over and introducing yourself. You held one of your hairpins to his neck instead, and he had to admit that he finally got a good look at you. You then asked, rather politely, to introduce himself.

“I am Silver, a knight of His Royal Highness, Malleus Draconia.” You then got off of him and helped him up, as you explained that you were trying to make sure that he was alive as you had seen him asleep under the tree you were currently standing under. Now he was kind of embarrassed for overreacting, and he thanked you for your concern but assured you that it was a condition that he had that made him sleep a lot.

To apologize, he asked to accompany you back to Ramshackle, as his father has taught him to be a gentleman after making a mistake. You accepted his offer, and so you both made your way to the old dorm in which you resided. However, there was a small girl waiting on the steps to the door once you arrived, and she ran up to you to hug your legs. He asked who she was and you explained that it was your daughter, and she hugged him too out of nowhere. He was surprised, but it made his chest feel warm.

After he returned to Diasomnia, his father noticed that he had hearts in his eyes. The young knight told him that he met the prefect of Ramshackle and his heart was beating against his chest so passionately, and Lilia told him that he was in love. He thought it only existed in fairytales, as he never gave it a lot of thought. But, to be fair, not a lot of people have politely introduced themselves while holding a sharp hairpin to his neck.

So, he desired your company. He would often visit you in your dorm to take over the cooking, mainly because he knew you couldn’t cook and he didn’t want Anya (who he views as his daughter once you two become romantically involved) to suffer through what he had to go through as a child. When he graduates, his dream is to continue being a knight, but to also have a fairytale ending where you live a peaceful life with Anya in a cottage in a forest.

Sebek Zigvolt

Alright, so this is a funny story that you tell Anya later, but you met Sebek when you attacked him because he scared you with his loud voice. You specifically kicked him in the face to make him fall before grabbing one of your hairpins and holding it to his neck as you straddled his torso. However, in a surprising turn of events, you politely asked him to identify himself. Needless to say, he was unprepared for this.

In a slight moment of fear, he told you his name and that he was a knight of the great Waka-sama, and you told him your name before you got off of him and helped him up. He commended you for your amazing display of your skills, and he shouted something about how he was ashamed to call himself an esteemed knight when he couldn’t defend himself in an ambush.

You kind of just awkwardly pat his back as you told him that it would be alright, and you would be willing to help him as an apology for attacking him. He accepted the offer, and he helped you pick up your books that you dropped and you both made your way to Ramshackle. However, there was one more surprise in the books.

Upon opening the door, a little girl ran into you and clung to your legs. Sebek demanded with a loud voice to reveal her identity. She picked up on his very professional attitude (most likely from reading his mind) and she stood straight with her chest puffed out as she stated that her name was Anya, and she was your daughter. The look of shock and confusion in the crocodile’s eyes almost made you laugh, and you explained that she was your adopted daughter from your world.

Hours later, when he returned to Diasomnia, Malleus, Lilia, and Silver each asked where he had been to obtain such bruises. He tells them that he visited the prefect of Ramshackle, who used to be an assassin and thus trained with him. He seemed to be very absentminded, which was very uncharacteristic for the First Year. He reported that his chest felt very warm as did his face, and the bat fae pieced it together: the boy was in love.

To say that he was not accepting of the truth would be an understatement. However, you were not a weak and magicless human. You sought to better yourself as a mother, and he respected that. He would often come over to cook something or give you a recipe, and you’ve even mastered his favorite dish and made it taste decent. However, you still mostly stuck to cleaning and making sure Anya trained well. Sebek never pictured himself with a family, but here he was.

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months

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Ch.1 : The Incident

Yandere Twisted Wonderland x Reader

What do you do when the person you associated with the pinnacle of innocence absolutely shatters your perception of them? When the person you had come to grips with loving for their innocent curiosity and kind demeanor absolutely changes into a violent merciless monster at the drop of a hat? That was what the whole team of Diasomnia were dealing with as they watched you pummel a student black and blue with your friends genuinely struggling to pull you off.

Hours before they had all come to an agreement: that they all loved you and were going to protect you. It was a big step for them as they previously had been walking on eggshells around each other when it came to you. Their developed feelings seemed to clash with their established relationships and their typical atmosphere was tense with competition. But after recalling your own inspiring words for teamwork (not directly said to them) they decided that they'd work it out. But that was when they were all under the impression that you were so innocent and compassionate that you needed their protection-let alone deserved it.

A student had apparently uttered a slur from your world, a seemingly made-up word you would use as you referred to people when you were comfortable. As soon as the word was said whatever expression you had on dropped only for it to morph into intense rage. Launching at them, you had the upper hand knocking away the wand they wanted to pull out. For a good ten seconds you were able to lay into this kid as everyone just kind of watched in awe as the Ramshackle prefect destroyed this student.

Then Deuce and Ace are the first ones to try and assuage you away from your assault only to be ignored and pushed away as you continued. By then others intervened, Floyd with an unusually solemn face held you up by hooking his arms under your armpits leaving you to viciously kick at and wriggle towards the writhing student. Then Rook intervenes hooking his arms around your knees walking with Floyd as they carry you out of the cafeteria. The population of Night Raven is baffled as everyone just listens to the student cry and whimper in pain. Everyone was shocked, that you the sweet Ramshackle prefect actually wailed on a student for saying one word.

Away from the crowd Rook and Floyd bring you to a still where you finally stop, huffing heavily your exhausted. Rook will offer for you to talk about it while Floyd will straight up not ask.

"Shrimp aren't fighters. What the heck was that?"

You'll either cry or just play with the ground as you give context to the word.

"That word is slur for people...who are like me..."

"Correct me if I'm wrong but don't you use this word occasionally?"

"Yeah...but it's okay for me to use it but not them."

"Well that sounds backwards..."

"No it isn't. It's my right, my way to take the meaning back. It used to be a way for people to discredit my existence but now I-my people-own it."

They parrot this, when Crowley and teachers question them. On the investigation that the student had a fair understanding of that and still said it ended up with you both being suspended for a week as well as writing an essay about your feelings.

Needless to say you were hanging around your dorm more often and looking more forward to seeing your fae friend wandering by. But you didn't and as you expected like most there was a wave of fear now, that steered him away. Despite the incident being properly narrated to the masses rumors still spread and your friends were hesitant to visit.

When he did finally come around he looked shocked to see you as if you hadn't been chilling on the property for that whole week.

"I get it, it's cool. I guess everyone's just surprised about me, huh?"

You playfully scoffed waving with your back turned as you went inside Ramshackle. Malleus is met with a stinging pain in his chest; overwhelmed by guilt he finds he's become what he hates most. He, who evaded giving you his identity to avoid being ran from did the running from you when you were open and honest the whole time. He criticizes himself questioning what he truly loved about you. The blank slate? The fresh start? Your naiveté? For a friend he really let you down...and he wonders can he ever bring himself to be forgiven.

Lilia Vanrouge is saddened. While he was more realistic than the rest of his family in their image of you he was still surprised by this. No doubt he listened to your direct explanation right after the event. He comes around appearing behind corners and previously empty rooms acting playful with a gloomy you. Whether you indulge in his antics or get annoyed by him it does cheer you up, distracting you at its best. He finds himself falling harder for you; your not perfect and he loves that.

"All the better to love you my dear!"

"That's not how the story goes."

" I know but don't you think that's better?"

Silver was shocked and it will take him a few days before he can properly sympathize. In fact it strengthens his resolve to be with you; he swore to protect you and that's what he plans to do. All these means is that your willing to fight for what you believe is right. Unfortunately his resolve is not really felt through this time, he so busy contemplating he misses the fact that you are unattended and feeling sad. It's only when Malleus reports his resolve that he realizes you've been suffering.

Sebek is the most shaken up by this. He was already making such a big leap to even consider a human as someone he loved. To find that the one you loved wasn't nearly the deity they depicted beforehand was anything but made it hard for him to accept. But he still continued to follow you around as much as he fought internally with himself about following a tainted human. So there are two ways he can rationalize the further warmth that intensifies when he recalls your pure unadulterated anger as you punched and kicked at the student. Of course he either rationalizes your rage as a justified reaction as grander being or that this was the result of you being tainted and thus its all his fault as he should have been more diligent about his duty.

"Hmm, Malleus?"

You were studying in a corner of the library tucked away from the larger groups of students who had all strictly kept to the other side of the space. The fae prince sat himself across from you staring until you finally looked up at him. He felt like you had stabbed him as you used his given name further spurring him to apologize.

"I wanted to properly apologize for leaving you in your time of need. I was just surprised to see that side of you."

You shrugged avoiding eye contact as you seemed to hyper focus on the words in front of you.

"Yeah, it's cool."

It didn't feel like it was 'cool' to Malleus so he lowered his head before pushing out his seat at the table. You were sure he was leaving for good, feeling the awkwardness of your fake acceptance before retreating.

Coming around the table to your side was Malleus towering over you before getting on one knee as he set his hand on your knee. Your face, blooming in heat, was in a state of shock as you turned to him completely forgetting the book you were reading before.

"(Y/n), I truly am remorseful. I should've have been with you during this time for I know you would have done the same for me-"

He grabbed your flabbergasted hands in his pulling them towards him as you fearfully looked around at the whispering students.

"Will you forgive me, (Y/n)? I want more than anything to reclaim our intimacy. I truly mean it, I have no intention of leaving you in any state if it isn't beside me-!"

"O-okay! I-i got it I got it! I forgive you, everything is fine, I forgive you! Just get up off the floor!"

As quietly as possible you tried to resolve the crowd's uproar of whispers with your forgiveness. Even if you felt pressured to you couldn't deny the sparkle in his emerald eyes as he had your forgiveness. He stands up still clasping your hands in his before declaring that he wished to celebrate.

"I think a sleep over would be a wondrous way to celebrate!"

Seemingly out of nowhere Lilia had plopped his stacks of books on the desk before coming close to you two with a sly smile.

You were about to comment on his sudden proximity before you felt the leaning of someone's head at the small of your back.

*Yawn* "Sleep over sounds nice...zzzz" Going back to sleep was Silver who was now in your seat and forcing you to stay in place lest he fall. Thinking it couldn't get much worse you almost failed to see Sebek appear behind you all before loudly proclaiming to the auspicious onlookers.

"HUZZAH!!! LORD MALLEUS AND THE (Y/N) HAVE RECONCILED!! YOU ARE ALLOWED TO REJOICE!"

"SHHHHHH!!"

"Sebek, please!"

You tried to calm him down but he seemed far to enraptured in whatever celebration he deluded himself into initiating. The best you could do was lead the Diasomnia posse out of the library in hopes to restore the peace.

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dellalyra · 1 year

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Family Formation - Part Ten

Summary: The school’s exchange event endangers your family, but it’s okay, mom and dad are here to help.

CW: swearing, fluff, found family stuff, canon typical violence, I guess some angst ? megumi needs his mom rn

A/N: so!! It seems like nothings showing up in tags!!! If anyone can help pls do i am dumb and confused!! But ! Here is part 10 I have absolutely no impulse control and now you get 2 parts in one night bc adhd. I like this part nd pls don’t forget that requests are open and I love getting them!! Also! Just send shit idc I’m lonely man

Recommended Listening:

In The Woods Somewhere - Hozier

Masterlist

Nothing felt right.

You couldn’t sit still in your chair beside your husband.

There was a twisting in your gut. Akio, now 6 months old, was safe and sound with your parents – Grade One sorcerers and your home were hidden by your husband – so you knew Akio was safe.

But call it mother’s instinct – one of your kids was in danger.

You tried to pay attention to the exchange event, watching the fights but the feeling grew and grew and was soon confirmed when all the student’s lights burned red.

You sprung up from your chair and vaguely heard Mei Mei and Yaga speaking – you gripped Satoru’s arm and soon you, him and Utahime along with Gakuganji were running toward a descending curtain. Gojo reached out only to be violently rejected by the curtain, you frowned in confusion but realised a second too late as you too, were blasted backwards.

You looked at Satoru.

“An anti-Gojo veil, I just don’t think it specified which one.” He said, as you realised this was meant to keep you both out as Utahime managed to slide her arm through the veil.

Panic seized your stomach. Megumi. He was in there, he was in danger. Nobara, Yuuji. What about Maki and Toge, Panda too? All the Kyoto kids? You needed to get in. That anger panic soon turned to anger as you realised someone intentionally made this veil to keep you and Satoru from the kids.

“Utahime, gramps, you two go ahead. Protect the kids. I can break this down, but only with Y/N’s intellect.” He waves a hand at them, he may be calm but you can sense his frustration.

Utahime looks at you.

“Hime, please, get me, my kids.” She only nods and they disappear through the curtain.

“Okay, Satoru. What do you see?” You ask. You and your husband work together like a well-oiled machine by now – techniques working in perfect unison after so long of working together and the intimacy of marriage.

“Veil, the cursed spirit made, specifically meant to keep us both out. 2km radius.” He recites, knowing what you need.

“Okay, I’ll create a diversion – then red?” You don’t even realise it by now but you working on sheer instinct and muscle memory. Trying to clear the emotions swirling through your gut right now is taking everything you have.

“It’s a deal, sweet cheeks.” He replies. God, where would you be without this man beside you?

You activate one of your techniques, one of the more durable and as teenage Gojo when training said ‘damn annoying’ ones, Fae Conjuration, and shape an ancestral spirit’s cursed energy into a gigantic elephant.

“I love your flair for drama, princess,” Gojo says, kissing your hand.

“Go big or go home, right.” You reply, which makes him laugh.

As you send the elephant charging into the barrier, just as it hits and bursts into thousands of small blue petals, Satoru sends a bright red burst of energy into the curtain and you see it shrink back into itself.

You both immediately begin running toward the smoke and dust emanating from where you know the river lies. You pray to whoever might be listening that your kids are safe and that you weren’t, once again, too late.

“Y/N, get them out of the way,” Satoru says from behind you, before branching off behind you. You knew what he meant immediately.

Not far away, a series of flashes come and you see, your Yuuji, sweet, kind, loving Yuuji – has hit the curse with four consecutive black flashes. Pride swells in your chest and a giggle at how Kento will react. Next comes several confusing images which you recognise as Todo switching everyone’s places and before you know it the curse has greatly increased their cursed energy output. Yuuji comes running to Todo and just as the energy reaches its peak, you slid into the riverbed in front of the boys, using your cursed claws as anchors and shouting.

“Cursed technique: Wall of Thorns” comes tumbling from your voice, raw and powerful and the magnitude of energy pulsing from your technique quells the curses own but also wraps it up in piercing tendrils of impossibly thick, strong vines.

You look at the curse, a spirit imbued by nature – a being similar to yourself. You smile sadly at it.

“The Dryad. The monk warned me of you.” The curse speaks in a shockingly gentle voice.

“Hanami. I’m sorry it came to this. Return to the earth, and be at peace.” You say as you’ve spotted a shape lingering in the sky.

You turn as fast as you can, as you spot a figure in the sky and grabbing Todo and Yuuji by the arms you shout again.

“Cursed technique: comments flora.” And with that, you and the boys are standing, by a camellia bush about 100ft away.

“Why have we run? Y/N-Sensei?! Todo?! It’s not dead!” Yuuji shouts and leaves to run but Aoi grabs his arm.

“Hold it, brother!” Todo says.

“Do not go closer, Yuuji. Satoru has it from here.” You say.

“Don’t take another step closer, or you’ll get caught in it.” Todo and you push Yuuji behind you both and just in time as a rumble comes through the ground and you’re all soon swathed in a deep purple light.

You giggle a little, Satoru has had a chance to play a little rough today, he’s probably in heaven.

“Ha, he’s as nonstandard as ever,” Todo says.

As the light clears and you release Yuuji from your grip, you look at them both.

“Where is Megumi? I can feel his cursed energy. Is he safe, is he hurt?” You say, patting them both down and spinning them to assess injuries.

“He’s been taken to Shoko Sensei, he was injured, along with Maki. Panda has escorted them to safety.” Todo informs you as you squeeze the (much taller than you) Itadori into your chest.

“Well, maybe I should have Aoi here as your Sensei if he managed to get a black flash from you.” Coke from behind you, as your husband floats down to stand beside you all. Yuuji immediately starts spouting at him about how cool the ‘purple neon flashy thingy’ was and how he’s ‘so OP Sensei’ and Aoi claps and agrees and admires his panache.

“Satoru – Satoru! Megumi! He’s hurt, Shoko has him.” He whips around and grabs your arm and the next thing you know you’re warping into Shoko’s office and you realise the last time you did that your waters had broken and Akio was on his way. But now, it’s your other son, and it’s fear – not joyous apprehension you’re feeling. Satoru is stock still and stiff beside you. You know you’re both worrying you didn’t get to him in time. Your darling boy.

But much to your relief, sitting up with a scowl in front of you is the spikey-haired boy – seemingly unscathed, with Maki opposite him.

You dive into him, wrapping him in your arms.

“Shoko! Ieiri Shoko! Come here now! SHOKO!” You’re shouting through the room and Megumi is hushing you Satoru is pulling at every limb on Megumi checking for damage and Maki is laughing her ass off at the look on her cousin’s face.

“Jesus, Y/N chill the fuck out, your kids fine. He got a nasty gash in his stomach but it’ll heal fine, was more of a cursed technique issue than a health one. 2 weeks bed rest and some painkillers and he’ll be all good.” Shoko says, wiping her hands on her doctors coat and rolling her eyes at you. A flash of a memory of you and Gojo fussing like this over an injured Geto back in the day with her only learning to heal passes through her mind as she witnesses the scene.

She’s soon knocked back by you tossing your arms around her neck and kissing her hair.

“Thank you, I chose the best best friend ever, thank you I love you.” You finally let her go and then begin to fuss over Maki and Megumi together. Telling them that you’re taking both of them and whoever else needs recovery time to you and Gojo’s house and you’ll take care of them.

Shoko raises an eyebrow at Gojo, wondering how he’ll react to this decision.

“What my princess wants, I’ll give her. And if it’s time to look after her kids, then that’s nothing I’ll object to.” He shrugs, grabbing a candy from her desk.

Shoko leaves to check on Inumaki and Noritoshi Kamo and Maki is given permission to leave back to her dorm, with an open invite to the Gojo Cottage to recuperate if she wants.

You sit beside Megumi, with Gojo sprawling his ridiculously long limbs over the legs of the chair he’s on, playing candy crush with one eye and observing you two with the other.

“You okay, ‘gumi?” You say.

“I’m good, don’t worry Mom.” He says, awkwardly patting the top of your hand.

“You did really good today kid, saved a lot of people. Proud of you.” Gojo says, beaming. “You really take after your old man, and by that I mean me, in your levels of extraordinary talent.”

Megumi rolls his eyes and you just laugh at the two boys. You text your mom that Satoru will be home to take Akio to bed tonight, but you’ll both be staying the night in the chairs beside your eldest before you can take him home to rest tomorrow. She replies, after crying for 10 minutes over him being hurt asking if ‘her darling Megumi needs his Nana’ and he blushes and says it’s okay he’ll see her when he’s home. She tells you she loves you, tells Gojo she loves him, and tells Megumi she loves him the mostest and then you hang up. All of you drifting off, you and Gojo curled together on the armchair beside your kid’s bed.

You guys would be okay.

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

Requests open <3

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avelera · 9 months

Text

So I wrote 7,800 words of an entirely new Dreamling fic yesterday pretty much out of NOWHERE based on a what-if headcanon chat that got ENTIRELY out of hand.

Basically, I’ve always found it weird that Hob is, well, WEIRD for an immortal. And I adore it! There’s basically no other immortals in fiction, or very few, who consistently have a day job, don’t become superheroes of enlightened morality in a couple lifetimes, or otherwise leave normal mortal life behind. Except Hob.

But there’s other weird stuff Hob gets up to in the comics especially. Namely: nothing. He sees a Sea Serpent in Hob’s Leviathan and just sort of… shrugs it off. He supposedly ran into a vampire coven while hanging out with a Constantine and they killed Constantine and kinda left him alone. He seemed otherwise pretty unphased. Between 1689-1889, unless he’s with Dream, very little happens to him. He just seems prosperous in both meetings.

But while Dream is gone, during the Blitz, his wife Peggy dies in his arms. That’s pretty dramatic. That’s main character tragedy.

So what if… Dream subconsciously pigeonholes Hob as not a fellow immortal of increasing antiquity, now over half a millennia old, but… just a guy. Just the guy he met in 1389? That certainly seems to be part of why he reacts so poorly to being called lonely in 1889. He can’t fathom that the human mudpuppy he met in a tavern that was basically a hovel could suddenly have INSIGHT into one such as him. But Hob was over 500 years old at that point! And Dream respects other eldritch creatures like fae and demigods, even if they are younger than him. So what gives that he doesn’t see the 500+ year old immortal human as maybe capable of insight into the life of a fellow eldritch being?

Because Dream doesn’t think of Hob that way.

And Dream IS the human subconscious.

Things get really meta from there because right you’ve got all these Doylist reasons that Hob is Just A Guy who seems allergic to getting involved with any of the grand stories of Sandman except as a bit part. A minor character even in his own story. But since it’s a story about stories, you can make it Watsonian too.

Maybe because Dream doesn’t think HE has a story (he says, in the comic which is ABOUT his story, thus undermining his point with a 4th wall break) and Hob is the only person in his life who is basically a normal friend and not a subject or family member or eldritch colleague… does he mentally pigeonhole Hob as not having a story either but just being witness to other people’s stories, like Jim?

It’s kind of weird isn’t it how in Hob’s Leviathan he spends the whole thing WONDERING what secrets lie beneath the surface of the ocean but when the sea serpent bursts forth he just sort of… shrugs?

It’s a bit weird too, in the show, even though I adore how unexpected the beat is, that after 34 years’ delay, Dream shows up and Hob barely reacts except to quip that he’s late. Though I’m sure Dream was very grateful.

… so I kinda wanted to do a one-shot about how this is actually an eldritch effect Dream accidentally cast on Hob. He sees Hob as just his normal friend despite being immortal. So Hob is Normal. Aggressively normal. He has a day job despite being 600+ years old. He exhibits none of the typical behavior one would expect out of a man who loves life so much he refused to die. And Dream realizes this when he learns that Hob’s 20th century was INSANE, filled with adventures and high drama and lost love and passion. A century where Hob was the protagonist in his own life story again. And it all abruptly stopped and he went back to having a normal human job the second Dream was free.

Anyway, Dream is gutted by the realization. The rest is them figuring out how the fuck this HAPPENED and if it can be fixed.

#dreamling #Maggie’s writing progress

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danikamariewrites · 7 months

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Hello 😊 can you do a Ruhn× shy library reader scenario/headcanon please 💗

I just wondered how he would be chasing after someone more quiet and introvert.

I also want to mention I really like your page, makes my tea break more entertaining 😄

Behind Bookcases

Ruhn x reader

A/n: aww thank you sm I’m happy you like my blog

the way I’ve thought about this before it would be such a cute dynamic 🥰

Warnings: none

You work in the Fae Archives and occasionally saw the Prince when he came by to research something for the Aux or to visit his sister. Your job wasn’t anything fancy. You were simply just the book keeper, making sure things were in there place and helping people find things.

Ruhn had asked were to find certain books and you had always fumbled your words and maybe seemed a little too eager when you brought him to the stacks. He was always so kind to you when he came in. Lately you felt like he was coming to the archives a lot. And he wasn’t even seeing Bryce most of the time.

You could’ve sworn the other week he was trying to flirt with you when he stopped by the front desk during your shift. You didn’t want to look too into it though. He was a huge party guy and your idea of a fun night was something quiet with a small group or just spending time alone at home. What could Ruhn possibly see in you?

One day after a month straight of Ruhn coming to the archives and lingering at the desk and asking you a million questions your confidence seemed to have boosted. You were typically nervous around people you don’t know. Ruhn had been coming to the archives so much you felt like you had known him for years. Even if you just had small, meaningless conversations.

You were putting books back when you heard muttering from the other side ancient bookcase. You know you shouldn’t be eavesdropping but the voice sounded familiar. Slowly taking a book out from your side, you peeked into the other aisle.

Ruhn was pacing back and forth. He looks a little stressed. His phone is pressed between his shoulder and ear as he tries not to yell at the person he’s talking to who is clearly teasing him.

“Dec for the first time I’m not sure what to do. I’m nervous. And don’t you dare tell Flynn what I just said…we’ll take me off speaker then, I called you not the whole house.” What could he be nervous about? Ruhn exuded confidence, not to mention he was a total charmer.

“No I’m not asking Bryce. I want to do this on my own.” You could hear yelling through the phone. It wasn’t angry, it sounded like his friends were cheering him on. You shrugged and gently put the book back going back to your task.

You gently push the cart out the aisle and run into Ruhn accidentally hitting him. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking.” Your cheeks turn beet red as he smiles down at you, handing you two books that fell off the cart. “It’s alright y/n. I was actually hoping to run into you.”

Your eyes went wide and your lips parted a little in shock. He wanted to talk to you? You wondered if he just wanted information on something. “Yeah, what do you need help with?” Ruhn chuckled a little and nervously scratched at the back of his neck.

“Well it’s not…I don’t need help persay…but,” Ruhn never stumbled when speaking. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, that would be embarrassing. Ruhn let out a small groan and dropped his head. Looking back up at you his violet, blue eyes seemed softer.

“I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner with me?” You wanted to jump up and down and scream yes, yes, a thousand times yes! But you reined yourself in. Your face lit up, a wide smile breaking out on your lips. “Yes. I-I’d love to.”

The prince let out a sigh of relief. “Prefect. When are you?” “Tonight,” you responded quickly. You cleared your throat repeating the word softer, “Tonight. If that’s cool with you.” Ruhn’s smile widened as he nodded his head. “Yeah, give me your number and I’ll pick you up tonight at seven.”

After giving your number to Ruhn and walking with him back to the front of the archives you couldn’t stop smiling. You were going on a real date with a real prince! And you couldn’t wait.

#crescent city x reader #crescent city fluff #crescent city fanfiction #crescent city imagine #crescent city #crescent city fanfic #ruhn crescent city #ruhn danaan x reader #prince ruhn danaan #ruhn danaan x you #ruhn danaan #ruhn fluff #ruhn x reader #ruhn x you

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

Note

Dear Headmage

Tsunotaro(a.k.a. Malleus Draconia) seems to be upset being not invited to regular meetings

Therefore, Can I ask you to visit Tsunotaro yourself and tell when the meeting will be held? I believe you can do so, since you are the generous Headmage

Sincerely, Ramshackle dorm's prefect

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

I believe you can do it, since you are our very generous headmaster!

They're right, I AM very generous! Crowley glowed with pride at the recollection of your letter. Its closing, so patently designed to stroke his ego--and it was working.

He swept down Main Street, alternating between the heel of his cane and his polished shoes connecting with the paved road. It was balmy today, the sky cornflower blue with thin wisps of white. Perfect for a stroll.

Crowley nodded to each of the Great Seven as he passed. Even their stone replicas exuded power and authority that far encompassed his own. Oh, I am so very humble as well!

"... Hm?" Crowley scratched his head. He stopped before the statue of the Thorn Fairy. She stood tall and regal in her robes, briar creeping at her feet. “Now what was it exactly that the Prefect asked me to do?"

A sudden shiver ran down Crowley’s back. He sensed a darkness looking behind him, like a sudden chill in the midst of the warmed morning.

"Headmaster,” a low voice crooned.

“Draconia-kun.“

“Good morning,” Malleus greeted. He greatly resembled the Thorn Fairy himself—waxy skin, raven locks, the horns, bright and reptilian eyes. When he smiled, he showed his fangs. “I had not expected to cross paths with you here.”

“I’m paying my respects to the Great Seven. Typically I wait until the afternoon, but the weather was too nice to resist. The early bird gets the work, as they say!” Crowley chuckled, waving a hand. “Presumably you are doing the same?”

“That is correct. We fae are closely intertwined with nature, thus we favor the season in which the world is reborn. On this day, I thought it fitting to give gratitude to the great Thorn Fairy, one of our own.”

“I see, how very thoughtful of you!” the headmaster gushed. “Now, if only more students had the same kind of attitude instead of rushing about willy-nilly! They fail to acknowledge the important accomplishments of the past that allow them to live such carefree lives in the present!”

“I wholeheartedly agree. There is much wisdom to be gained by observing and honoring the past.”

“You understand! Fufufu, to think that I have the privilege of having such diligent students. I shall leave you to your appreciation then. Do be certain you are not running late for your lectures!”

“I would not dream of it, sir.”

They parted ways, the headmaster continuing his trek toward the main school building. Still, the idea of Malleus lingered like a dragon’s shadow over a village. As if lying in wait, as if anticipating an event.

“Such a enigmatic boy, that one…” Crowley muttered to himself. “Hmm? That's strange, now why do i feel as though I've forgotten to do something...?"

But no sooner was that thought banished from his mind.

Oh well, that’s a problem for future-me to deal with! I’m sure it’s nothing important~

Now then, whose class should I crash today? Professor Trein's? Professor Crewel's? Or perhaps Coach Vargas's? Decisions, decisions!

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Dire Crowley #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #Reader #self insert #Two Ravens at the Writing Desk

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intern-seraph · 10 months

Text

mercy, mercy

You await judgement for unknowingly violating the human-fae treaty. The punishment is typically death, but the ever-so-kind General Vanrouge has an alternative proposal. (AKA, "I told my fae boyfriend that thinking about him behaving more like he did as a General is hot and we turned it into a scene??? (Not clickbait) (Gone sexual)")

i need lilia vanrouge to rail me into the bed (he is 3 inches shorter than me) anyways writing out the tags for this was kinda wild lmao please enjoy

originally posted on ao3

cws: BDSM scene, sexual roleplay, dom/sub dynamic, hard dom lilia, elements of consensual non-consent, sensory deprivation (sight), safeword usage, whipping, riding crops, collaring+leashes, degradation, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, spanking, orgasm control, forced orgasm, crying, rough oral sex, blowjobs, deepthroating, rough sex, vaginal sex, creampie, choking, aftercare, safe sane consensual, fem!reader

At this point, you’ve lost track of time. The room is so dark, not a single light turned on; even the windows are covered. You’re shaking when the door finally opens. You wince away from the narrow beam of light that slips through the cracked doorway. It’s quickly blocked, however, by a familiar and terrifying shadow. Your throat tightens, but despite the fear that shoots down your spine, you throw yourself on the floor before your captor.

“Please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean t-to trespass. I swear, General, i-if I knew that I was going to pass through fae lands I —”

The door slams shut. You jolt and curl into yourself, whimpering. A boot presses down on your back, keeping you prostrate before the General. You can feel it as he stares down his nose at you. “Silence.” Your jaw clacks shut. “Intent means nothing. You are a trespasser, and therefore have broken the treaty between our people. Such a crime could be punished with death.”

Another whimper. Despite his command, you whisper, “Please, spare me. I beg of you.”

The pressure on your back increases. You cry out, shaking against the tread of his boot. “I told you to be silent. Do not make me repeat myself again, human. Now, while the punishment for your crime would typically be death, I have leave to do with you what I please.” The boot on your back vanishes. Before you can react, his fingers tangle in your hair and pull you to sit up on your shins. The General’s glowing ruby eyes rake down your body. “I think I know what will please me. It’s been so long since I last had a warm, soft body to keep me company.”

He doesn’t have to elaborate. Your breath hitches in your chest, eyes widening. On instinct, you press your thighs together. “Y-you want…”

“I want you, little human. It’s a far better fate than the alternative, I assure you. A warm bed, good food, fine clothing… and all I ask in return is your body.”

“A pet.”

“A crude way of saying it.”

“But I’m right.”

He yanks your hair, prying out a yelp of pain. “Your freedom or your life, human.”

It’s not much of a choice. You lower your gaze, take your bottom lip between your teeth. “Alright.”

The hand in your hair relents. He laughs lowly, his cruel grip turning into affectionate petting. You lean into his touch without thinking, grateful for the warmth. “Good human. You’ll train up nicely, I think.” Without a word, his hand leaves you. You collapse without his support. The General paces around you, paying no mind to your prone body. Behind you, you hear him rifle through something. He appears at your back in a few strides and slips one hand around your throat. It’s not enough to restrict your breathing, but it still makes you tense up. Gently, he coaxes you to sit back on your heels. A strip of soft leather meets your skin, and you breathe out a shaky sigh as he fastens a collar around your neck. “We’ll start right away.”

He tugs on the lead. You follow the pull, scrambling to your feet. “S-start what?” you ask.

The General laughs. Suddenly, he shoves you face-first onto a soft, springy surface. “Your training, of course. Starting with a punishment for your misbehavior.” He hums as his fingers begin to unlace your blouse from behind to reveal your skin to the chilly air. Your pants go the same way, leaving you in your lacy underthings. He pauses, and you feel the way he drinks in the sight of your pretty underwear before you’re stripped of that, too. A calloused finger trails down your spine. You shiver and press your face into the sheets. “So reactive, how darling! Now, I believe we’ll start with twenty-five lashes.”

“Twenty-five?”

“Mm. One for each year that the treaty you violated has been in place. That seems fair to me. What, do you have any objections?”

You remember the feeling of his boot on your back. Quietly, you respond, “No.”

“No…?”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” He fiddles with something, then the worn length of a leather whip slides along your bare skin. Again, you startle, and he snickers at you. “I’ll keep count. Stay still, will you?”

“Yes, sir.”

There’s no further warning for his first strike. The whip cracks against your back. Again and again, each strike paints a searing line of pain across the bared skin. You grip the bed sheets hard enough for your knuckles to pale, squeezing your eyes shut and biting back the tears. You don’t know when the pain progressed from arousing to just painful, but the moment you realize, you wet your lips and gasp out, “Yellow!”

Immediately, Lilia stops. The soft thump of the whip hitting the floor is followed shortly by the bed dipping. He gathers you up in his arms, checking you over with a worried frown. “Are you alright, darling? Did I go too far?”

You sniffle, burrowing your face in his chest. “No more whipping.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Do you want me to switch to something else or should we move to another kind of play?”

“The crop. But not too much more or I won’t be able to lie on my back.”

“Alright. I’ll fetch it; will you be alright if I leave for a moment?”

“Mhm.” You crane your neck and kiss his cheek before he pulls away. He chuckles, kissing your temple in response. It doesn’t take long for him to return. There’s a faint crinkling sound, then smooth plastic touches your lips.

“I brought some water, too. Drink up!”

Smiling, you take the water bottle and take a few sips, clearing your throat as you hand the bottle back. “Thanks.” You roll your shoulders a little, then roll back onto your stomach like before. “Green.”

Lilia hums, and you resist the urge to look back at him. Then, something whishes through the air, and the crop strikes your ass. You yelp, jolting. He snickers, stroking the impact mark with the tip of the crop. “Ah, humans make such adorable noises. Make more of them for me, pet.”

Another strike. Another yelp. You hiss and press your face into the sheets, sticking your ass up higher without thinking. Three. Four. There’s a pause. You hold your breath and brace yourself.

“That was twenty-five, pet,” says the General. The tension leaves your body, and you go limp. A gloved hand strokes your back, the touch soothing the hot, angry lines criss-crossing your skin. “Tell me, have you learned your lesson?”

You mumble something into the sheets. He tugs on your leash, pulling your upper body off of the bed and forcing your back into an arch as you instinctively escape the choking sensation.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch it.” His voice drips with saccharine kindness slathered atop a mound of derision. “Use your words.”

“Yes, sir!” you wheeze. “I — hah! — I’ve learned my lesson!”

He lets the leash slacken. You fall forward onto your palms, wheezing quietly. The General slips his calloused fingers beneath your collar to stroke the nape of your neck. “Remember: do not make me repeat myself.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Rather than respond, his presence vanishes entirely. You tense up in anticipation. He doesn’t leave you waiting for long. He presses two fingers through your folds, making you jolt. A laugh shakes the air around you as he gathers the slickness that’s built up between your thighs. “Already excited, pet? You know, the whipping was supposed to be a punishment. Yet here you are, dripping everywhere and dirtying my fingers. Is my pet truly that depraved?” Your head drops with shame. Again, the General laughs. His clothed body drapes heavily over yours, erection pressing into the small of your back. He pushes his fingers into your hole and gives a few experimental pumps. When you moan, he shoves them deeper. His other hand flies up to grip your jaw. He wrangles your mouth open with his thumb and presses down on your tongue. You can’t stop your pleasured noises as he pumps his fingers in and out of your cunt.

Your hips jerk sporadically as your body chases his touch. He snickers, thrusting his fingers faster and faster while you wriggle beneath him. “Keehehe… does that feel good?” Squeezing your eyes shut, you nod as best as you can with his hand still keeping your head in place. Fangs and a warm tongue on the nape of your neck are your reward; he teases your skin with little nips and kitten licks that make you shiver and jolt. The General pauses his fingerfucking, then blows a puff of air against your damp skin. You squeak, bucking your hips without thinking. “Think only of this, of the pleasure I bring you, because this is your life now, pet. Your place is beneath me, writhing and squealing while I have my fill of you. You don’t need anything else in that pretty little head of yours.”

Desperate for friction, you start to roll your hips against his palm. He lets you hump his hand for some time, cooing patronizingly even as he indulges you by twisting his hand to rub your clit with his thumb. The fingers in your mouth delve deeper and make you gag — your cunt spasms around the fingers of his other hand and forces out a strangled moan. Finally, he deems you worthy of his effort again and begins pumping his fingers in and out of you once again. You whine out your gratitude, tears pricking your eyes.

“Come for me.”

You obey without a second thought. The General frees your mouth as you convulse beneath him, gripping the sheets so tightly that you fear you’ll tear them. He draws out your pleasure to the point where you beg for mercy. When you try to shake him off, he snarls.

The air whistles with the speed and force of his palm against your ass. You shriek. He grabs your leash at the very base and yanks it back. “I’ve not had my fill yet. Weren’t you listening? We stop when I say so.” His fingerfucking becomes more intense, and despite the pain you can’t help but moan. “See? You’ll come to love it more and more.”

“Sir,” you sob. “Please, sir. Hurts. I’ll do anything else, just please —”

Suddenly, his weight leaves you entirely. You collapse, half-kneeling as your upper body slumps onto the bed. Beneath your head, the fabric quickly dampens with tears. Beside you, the mattress dips. You lift your gaze, meeting the General’s blown-out pupils. By now, your eyes have more or less adjusted to the room’s pitch darkness, and you can just barely make out the silhouette that bears those glowing eyes. They shimmer with equal measures lust and disdain. That is the man you’ve sold yourself to. A tug on your leash shatters your thoughts. “I suppose I’ll have mercy on you for now, since you’ve not been properly broken in yet. Come closer and open your mouth. I’ll use that hole until the other is less sensitive.”

“Thank you, sir,” you rasp out. You shuffle to him on your knees, settling between his legs. A few buttons pop before his fingers curl into your hair, carefully guiding your head to his crotch. The General caresses your cheek as you lean in. You flinch as he taps his cockhead against your parted lips, but take a deep, shaky breath and flick your tongue out. His skin is smooth and soft, with little taste other than a distinct saltiness that makes your face scrunch up. Above you, he groans. His nails scrape your scalp. You continue with little kitten licks, your hands rising up to grip his thighs as you start to move down his shaft.

“That’s it, just like that… mmm, such a good human. Your tongue is so warm…” He lets out a deep, guttural noise as you reach up to cradle his balls in one hand. “Yesss… hah… lift your head and open wide so I can fuck your mouth, now. Don’t stop that hand of yours.”

You obey easily. He guides you to envelop a few inches of his shaft in your mouth, your tongue pulsing against the salty skin. He pushes your head down further. At the same time, his hips surge up, and you gag when his cockhead hits the back of your mouth. Tears spill down your cheeks as he starts a steady pace. It’s hard to breathe, but you pull in unsteady breaths through your nose each time he pulls you up before he shoves you back down to his base. One of his hands sneaks down to your neck and feels at the front of your throat.

“Ahhh, I can feel it. Right here.” He holds your head down and presses a finger against the slight bulge that’s formed. “You make such a good little cocksleeve.”

Squirming, you squeeze your eyes shut and whine around him. The General only laughs cruelly. Only when you begin to swat frantically at his thigh as you start to lose feeling in your fingers does he let you come up for air. You cough and gasp, snot and tears and drool dripping down your face. You look up at him with bleary eyes, his dark silhouette blurry along the edges. There’s a prolonged moment of silence.

Then, he leans down and murmurs, “Color?”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. It takes a few seconds for your foggy brain to formulate an answer, but you rasp out, “Green.”

For a moment, the hand in your hair gives you a gentle pet. Then, it turns hard once more and yanks you back to his cock. You let your jaw hang open, but he still presses his thumb to your bottom lip to keep your mouth open wide as he starts fucking your throat again. You grasp at the fabric of his pants, choking on your spit every time he draws back. When you glance up, you see his shadowed silhouette lounging back, holding himself up on one elbow.

“Hah… I can’t wait… a-ah… can’t wait until you’re properly trained. I’ll take you to — shit! — every function I have to attend. And the nobles will look and… and wish they had a little human whore half as perfect as mine…” Suddenly, his hands fly up to grip your head on both sides and push you down. You make a tiny noise of alarm, jerking against his steel grip on instinct. “Stay still, pet. I want to come down… your… ah —!”

You flinch, eyes going wide as his cock twitches in your throat and pulses on your tongue. Hot come fills your mouth, and even though you try to back off, he holds you in place. One hand drifts over to your face and pinches your nose. You have no choice but to swallow. Only when static starts to crackle in your ears does he let you up. You choke and cough and try to wipe away your tears even though they cover your hot cheeks.

“Good human,” coos the General. You sniffle and duck your head. He clicks his tongue and tugs your leash, forcing you to look up into his glowing eyes. “Head up, now. We’re almost done breaking you in. You should be less tender now, yes?”

Slowly, you nod. He hums in approval.

“Good. Get back on the bed. All fours.”

You open your mouth, try to speak, and cringe when you can only make a raspy noise. You swallow once, twice, then whisper, “Yes, sir.” As you clamber onto the bed, your tingling legs protest. Your face burns as you shuffle gracelessly into position, barely supported by your shaking limbs. A tug on your leash, followed shortly by the mattress dipping behind you, tells you where the General is. He’s still mostly clothed as he settles at your back. Only his hardening cock is bare, sliding wetly along the cleft of your ass.

“Now, I’m going to fuck you. Still… you should thank me, human, for letting your little hole recover.” He teases two fingers against your weeping slit. Your hips jerk.

“Th-thank you, sir.”

Without further warning, he thrusts into your cunt, filling you completely. You let out a startled moan. Falling to your elbows, you use what little leverage you have to rock back into him. He starts a rapid pace, drilling you into the bed as he curls himself over your back. His clothes rub up against the raw stripes of pain criss-crossing your skin, pulling hisses and sobs from you over and over again. It hurts so good, you can’t stop yourself from clenching around him with each pass. For his part, he’s reduced to snarling moans and grunting. He sounds like an animal in heat, and the way his claws sink into your haunches and his sharp teeth scrape over the nape of your neck only add to the impression. You barely register the fingers that creep down to rub and pinch your clit, but when they do you wail, jerking and clawing at the sheets while the General laughs in your ear.

“Do you like that? Make that noise again for me, pet.” He doesn’t let up, and you collapse as your orgasm hits you. Your body going limp doesn’t stop him from fucking you, and you start crying in earnest as he pounds your aching cunt.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! Please, sir!”

“Take it,” he snarls. He reaches up and tweaks your nipple painfully, twisting and squeezing while he ignores your pleas for mercy. You're sure that you'll bruise by the morning. His stamina is almost terrifying; there's no sign that he's anywhere close to coming.

A sudden yank on your leash forces you to sit up, back arching against his chest. Your trembling hands scrabble desperately at the collar around your neck. You gasp for air, your voice strangled as you beg and moan.

You flinch when he takes one of your earlobes between his teeth. "One more. Together, this time. You can do it, can't you?"

You shake your head. Between labored breaths you exclaim, "No! I can't! Oh, god!"

"Shh, you can, you can. Be a good little human for me, now." He starts massaging your clit beneath his fingers, pulling yelps from you. With every forceful thrust, your pussy spasms around his shaft. He groans into the crook of your neck, his fingers working you harder and harder while you struggle against the collar. A guttural growl is your only warning before his hips connect with yours one last time with a wet slap. Heat fills you, overflowing to the point where it leaks out onto your thighs. Even though you feel you can't possibly give the General another orgasm, he rubs you furiously and bites into your shoulder. You tremble in his arms. Somehow, you manage one last weak orgasm. All you do is whimper.

He holds you in place for a minute longer as you both catch your breaths. All at once, the leash goes slack. You fall forward, panting and sniffling softly. Behind you, you feel Lilia shuffle around on the mattress before the collar around your neck is removed. He strokes along your spine with gentle fingers.

"Are you still with me, darling?" he asks, voice breaking through the fog in your brain. You roll onto your back. The sheets immediately irritate the marks left by his whip earlier, and you hiss at the sting. Lilia makes a small, worried noise. He glances off to the side, then snaps his fingers. The bedside lamp flickers on, casting the room in a dim yellow glow. "Oh dear. Let's get something to soothe your skin. I'm going to be right back, is that alright?"

You nod. He helps you shift back onto your stomach, zips himself up, and hurries out of the bedroom. You’re not sure if you fall asleep for a few minutes or if he’s just that fast, but the next thing you know, he’s back. The bed dips behind you, and you shudder with relief as he rubs aloe gel into your back. You sigh and shut your eyes, letting the cooling sensation turn you into putty in his hands. Lilia laughs as you practically purr beneath him, lashes fluttering as you fight back the urge to pass out.

“Good?”

“Mhm…”

“Now, now, don’t fall asleep on me yet! At least let me change the sheets!” He scoops you up, snickering as you grumble and squirm, and sets you down on one of the plush chairs in the corner of the bedroom. You curl up and rest your cheek on your arm to watch him strip the bed of the soiled sheets and replace them with fresh ones. You yawn. He turns to you and wags a finger in mock reprimand. “What did I just say?”

“The sheets’re changed,” you mumble. Another yawn. Grinning, Lilia rolls his eyes and trots over to carry you back to the bed. You wriggle beneath him as he takes a wipette and a washcloth to your crotch, whining and kicking lamely at him. “Can’t we just sleep, Lils?”

“Then you’ll just complain in the morning that we’re ‘all crusty and gross!’” He pinches your thigh and dodges another halfhearted kick.

He finishes cleaning you up, and you immediately squirm under the covers. You watch him change into a pair of briefs from beneath the edge of the blanket. “Maybe I wanna be crusty and gross with you.”

“Oh? Then I’ll take you on your word next time! Crusty and gross under crusty, gross blankets.” Lilia leans back, hands on the small of his back. You hear a series of pops, followed by a groan of relief. With that, he dives under the covers with you. You scoot away from him with a quiet grunt of mock disgust.

“Changed my mind.”

He guffaws at that. He wraps himself around you, rubbing his cheek against your collarbone and looking up at you with those big, affectionate ruby eyes. “You’ll break this old man’s heart if you keep talking like that, my darling.”

“Uh-huh.” You return his embrace, looping one leg around his hips as you settle in. “You seemed a lot taller earlier,” you comment.

“Mmm, I suppose I seemed a lot taller back in my prime, as well.” Lilia gives a quiet, thoughtful hum. “Are you disappointed, then?”

“No. Never. It’s just… interesting.” You run your fingers through his hair. It’s soft and flows easily through your fingers, even the parts that he’s probably bleached and dyed a hundred thousand times before. “Thank you, by the way. For indulging my weird fantasies… ah… did you like it?”

“Very, very much, dear. It made me feel young again, even!”

You laugh softly, closing your eyes. “Did you do things like that when you were younger?”

“No,” he says. You feel a puff of breath against your skin. “There was no time for such things, and my view of humans was far more… uncharitable.”

“So you wouldn’t have fucked me like that in the past. Gotcha.” You burst into giggles when he jabs his fingers into your sides. He tickles you mercilessly until you’re crying with laughter and trying to shove him away to catch your breath. Panting, you roll onto your back and swipe at your tears with one hand. You glance over at Lilia, who’s lying propped up on his side with that smug grin of his.

“Perhaps I would have if it’d shut your smart little mouth, sweetling,” he coos. “And maybe a cute human bed warmer would have done me some good. Who knows!”

“Unfortunately for you, you just have me.”

Lilia shakes his head. He reaches out and pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on the crown of your head. “Fortunately for me, I have a lovely human partner right here.” Pressing your cheek against his chest, you smile shyly. He chuckles and pets your head. “Let’s do another scene like this sometime,” he says. “Perhaps we could even make use of Diasomnia’s old dungeon.”

Your eyes go wide and you squirm in his embrace as you try to look up at him. “Wait, your dorm has a dungeon?”

He doesn’t say anything, instead grinning impishly. With the snap of his fingers, the lights go out. You wriggle more, but Lilia just holds you tighter and refuses to elaborate. “Good night, my dear! Sweet dreams!”

“Lilia!”

#lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twst #twst x reader #twst fic #twst smut #smut #nsft #seriously this is just graphic porned ography #seraph speaks #my writing #he gets to be a little silly goofy at the end as a treat #and why yes i do enjoy using names and titles as a way to show how a character's persona changes

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esoteric-chaos · 11 months

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Midsummer Masterpost - Spoonie witch friendly

Midsummer, also known as the Summer Solstice. This day is the longest day of the year. Typically lands around June 21st (December 21st in the Southern Hemisphere).

Many cultures around the world celebrate the Summer Solstice in their own ways. Marking a very important event for most.

Fire is the main association with this holiday as it marks the sun. This holiday also marks the end of the planting season.

Midsummer Correspondences

Colours

Green

Gold

Light Blue

Yellow

Red

Orange

White

Herbal

Basil

Bay Leaves

Lavender

Mint

Rosemary

Thyme

Chamomile

Mugwort

Vervain

Rose

Honeysuckle

St. John’s Wort

Yarrow

Calendula

Sunflower

Marigold

Jasmine

Oak

Cinnamon

Elder

Edibles

Honey

Berries

Cheese

Lemonade

Lemons

Oranges

Tea

Honey cakes

Mead, Ale, Wine

Ice Cream

Animals

Bees

Cow

Butterfly

Dragonfly

Horse

Summer birds (Wren, Robin, Hawks, Eagles, Swallows, etc)

Crystals

Emerald

Jade

Sunstone

Orange or Green Calcite

Carnelian

Citrine

Amber

Tiger’s Eye

Diamond

Pearl

Quartz

Ruby

Garnet

Metals

Symbols

Sun

Fire, Bonfire, Balefire

Sun Wheel

Sunflower

Phoenix

Fae

Herbal

Summer flowers

Rose

Spirals

Spiritual meanings

Love

Life

Light

Passion

Creativity

Healing & Health

Growth

Empowerment

Lust

Fertility

Power

Success

Prosperity

Warmth

Solar energy

Scents

Lavender

Sage

Lemon

Rose

Mint & Spearmint

Jasmine

Rosemary

Verbena

Coconut

Orange

Gods / Goddesses / Spirits

Gaia

Aestas (Roman)

Aine (Celtic)

Brigantia (Celtic)

Venus (Roman)

Aphrodite (Greek)

Apollo (Roman)

Apollon (Greek)

Zeus and Thor (Thunder Gods)

Ra (Egyptian)

Greenman

Oak King

Anuket (Egyptian)

Benten (Japanese)

Any other sun Gods/Goddesses

Need some suggestions to celebrate? I got you covered.

High energy celebrations

Bonfires

Fae offerings

Create Fae garden

Weave flower crowns

Perform a phoenix ritual

Create a Besom

Dance and sing

Leave offerings to solar Gods/Goddesses

Divination work

Any solar energy workings

Low energy celebrations

Ritual bath

Light a candle in honor

Watch the sunset

Meditate with solar energy

Pray to solar Gods/Goddesses

Create solar water

No spoon celebrations

If you have a sun lamp bask in it

Watch the sunset

Greet the sun at sunrise

Tell yourself kind words

Remember that it’s okay if you cant do much while you are unwell. That you come first and you simply existing is a blessing.

How you celebrate the holiday does not matter. You can choose to do any activity that feels right. These are only suggestions and remember that you're enough no matter what.

#summer solstice #midsummer #chronic illness #chronic illness magic #spoonie #spoonie magic #spoonie witch #litha magic #wheel of the year #witch #witchcraft #summer solstice magic #midsummer magic #summer solstice correspondences

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storiesbyrhi · 2 months

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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Homeward bound. 2738 words.

1986

Every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of Eddie swooping by, keeping pace with your car. It was mid-afternoon by the time he grew tired, burrowing into his front seat nest and sleeping until twilight. As soon as the sun was safely locked away on the other side of the world, Eddie chittered and you responded by turning him back into himself.

He stretched out, making dramatic noises and pulling faces.

“You okay there?” you asked him, laughing at the show of it all.

“Only trying to make you smile, my little witch.”

Damn.

“So, you were right,” you changed the subject. “About not being the only non-witch,”

“Wolf, right? I could smell him.” Eddie’s face screwed up in disgust.

“What happened to the support group for monster lovers?”

“I draw the line at lycans.”

The seriousness of his expression made you laugh. “Well, you’ll have to redraw it, because Ev has it bad for him. The others already knew all about it too,”

“And we believed we were special,”

“I mean… We still are… Witches and werewolves aren’t mortal enemies…”

“Of course. Wolves’ mortal enemy being their own tail and all,”

“Eddie! Stop,” you laughed, hitting him with the back of your hand.

He grinned at you, then looked out at the road. “And the other?”

“That one is a bit more of a secret. Ash is seeing one of the fae folk. It’s still very new. Taking it slow… Making sure they’re not actually trying to lure her into some centuries old curse. You know how they are,”

“Trickster sprites,”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “And then there’s Steve fucking Harrington… who has elected to inexplicably haunt Mel,”

“Why? I assume he never met her,”

“Yep, but she came and asked me if the ghost in her house was him. It was. He says he’ll leave her alone but had this stupid puppy dog look on his face… So… Maybe there is a whole new world of witch romances to come.”

Eddie grinned, he liked the sound of it. Though, he really didn’t want a werewolf as a brother-in-law. “Do you want me to take over?” he asked then, pointing to the steering wheel. “I’ve been practicing,”

“And here I was thinking you disappeared in the middle of the night to eat,”

“Oh, I do. I find the worst person I can. I eat them. Then, I take their car for a lesson,”

“A two birds, one stone, kind of thing, huh?”

Eddie nodded with a disconcertingly innocent smile on his face.

“I was thinking about that actually. I think I can help,”

“With which part?” he asked. “The eating or the thieving,”

“Neither. The choosing.”

The joy left Eddie’s expression. He looked away from you, suddenly studying the hardly visible horizon out his window. “You don’t need to be a part of it. You don’t have to have it on your conscience,”

“Neither do you. Not in the same way, at least. What if I can take some of the guesswork out of picking who is, you know, bad,”

“It’s not guesswork. I watch them. I find them while they’re-”

“I know. But what if you didn’t have to wait for them to do something bad? What if you could tell what they had already done?”

Eddie stayed quiet. There was a gas station up ahead, the lights shining brightly. You pulled in and cut the engine.

“I know it’s always going to be on you. You’re always going to have to make that call, about if they have sinned and if the sins are…”

“If they justify death,” Eddie finished for you solemnly and still not looking at you.

“Yes. But what if you could see them? The sins. If you could, I don’t know, just touch someone and see the worst of them. And only when you wanted to. Would that help?”

He was clicking two fingernails together, pensive or maybe anxious. Eddie got out of the car and looked around. There was a family inside the gas station. The kids were screaming about peanut butter cups and soda.

“Would it help you?” he asked after you’d got out and walked around to him. His hands were shoved into the pockets of the sweatpants he’d been getting in and out of, vampire then bat then vampire then bat. “It might make it more precise. But it’s still conjecture. Still a judgment. Still a human death.”

You tried to read him, but he’d locked you out for the moment.

He continued, “Sometimes it hurts. Or, sometimes I think it hurts. Or, I think it should hurt. I don’t know if I can tell the difference. I don’t want to hurt anybody. I can stop myself from hurting them. But I don’t know, really know, if it weighs on my conscious. I don’t even know if I have one.”

It had been easy to get lost in Eddie’s goodness. It had been the important thing to show your coven. But it was never going away, the darkness. He might have been a good vampire, not a properly made monster, but it didn’t change the fact that he was still a vampire.

“If I say it would help me-”

“Then, I am sure, it would help me. What is good for you is good for me,” Eddie told you. “But I can tell which of them are more like me than you. I can see it in their faces. But if this makes you feel more in control of it, then I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

The neon sign of the station buzzed and crackled, the cicadas trilling back at it. The family got in their car and hit the road again, the radio turned right up to drown out the noise of bickering children.

You could see the station’s clerk watching you and Eddie from behind his counter.

“Loving you doesn’t make me feel guilty. I’m not ashamed of what you are,” you told Eddie then, looking back at him. “I’m not trying to make you into something you’re not.”

He nodded. “I know.” He saw it on your face, a flash of exasperation. “What are you trying to do?” he asked. “Because I’m not ashamed of what you are either… You don’t have to be a lawful, virtuous witch.”

There was a small smile playing on Eddie’s lips and you knew it meant he’d cottoned on to the fact that the seed of darkness that lived inside you was working its magic.

“It’s not just about making things easier for you or for me. It could be… A kind of justice…”

“Ohhh,” Eddie almost laughed. “I am your weapon, and if you can point this blade in the right direction, then well fuck, it might work faster than the humans’ courts and witches’ spells?”

Eddie had only recently started to swear, a habit he was picking up from you most likely. Fuck, in particular, sounded terribly good coming from his mouth.

You looked at him and slowly nodded. He threw his head back and laughed into the night. The gas station clerk sighed in relief at the sudden change of atmosphere around you both.

“Oh, my little witch. You do continue to delight me.”

Eddie pulled you into a rough kiss, letting the tips of his sharpest teeth run along your bottom lip. You were warm and tasted so sugary. He had been itching to eat you up since leaving the Catskills.

“I love you,” you said breathlessly when he let you come up for air.

“I love you too. Entirely.”

…

Waking up alone was bittersweet. Although you missed the weight of Eddie next to you, the immediate crawl of his body to yours, it did mean he was likely up to something. Mostly, it was innocent domestic work.

Pre-turning, Eddie never really had a place to call his own. As a vampire, the idea of home meant something different too. But now, the boy could nest. He cleaned and picked flowers to put in vases and glasses all across the trailer. He was also dabbling in cooking, though he could not eat the fruits of his labor.

So, mostly, it was domestic work, but now and then, you would wake up to him doing something different. A week after returning from the Catskills, you and Eddie had fallen back into routine, but this morning was out of the ordinary.

Eddie had stacks of books crowded around him. Pages of handwritten notes were spilled across the coffee table, your altar supplies stacked neatly below it.

“Looking very witchy there,” you greeted, voice gravelly with sleep.

“Hi, my love,” he replied without looking up. “I’m almost finished.”

Looking around, you realised it wasn’t just the books Eddie had been combing through. Herbs and other potion-brewing bits and pieces were lined up along the kitchen bench.

“Almost finished what?” you asked.

“The spell.”

Nodding slowly at him, you waited for the explanation. It never came. Instead, you let him work on his craft and went about your day.

By mid-morning, he was ready.

“Little witch!” Eddie yelled loudly. You were outside, watering your potted plants and herbs. “Little witch! Come!” There was childlike enthusiasm in his voice and it made you smile.

“Where do you need me?” you asked him, but he was already ushering you to the couch.

“I have written you a grounding spell,” he announced.

“A grounding spell?”

“Yes. Something to reconnect you to the natural world. To promote health and healing.”

Eddie was wide-eyed and on the verge of mania. He had a little dirt smeared across his cheek, and it was caked under his nails. Although his hair was pulled back in a bun, single coils of curls had fallen out throughout the night. He was beautiful.

“Go on,” you urged.

“It starts with malus domestica,” he began.

“It always does,” you noted, already holding back a giggle. He could have just said apple. Still so very dramatic.

“They connect you to the earth. Sacred. Biblical.” He really had been doing his homework. “Then, black hellebore root.” Eddie was at the kitchen bench, holding up a jar that he’d already dug through. That explained the dirt.

“I hope you’ve been careful with that,” you warned.

“I know. Extremely toxic. Even witches sometimes wear gloves to handle it,” Eddie said, reciting one of the books he’d read. “But it is also symbolic of rising from the past. And has a long history of use in witchcraft.”

Eddie had read about hellebore poisoning, how it brought on hallucinations but could also cure mental affliction. He read about how it could be harnessed and used in banishing spells and for purification. About white versus black hellebore and all the folklore surrounding them.

“Okay. What do we do with this apple and root?” you asked, playing the part of a captive audience.

“Core the apple and thread the root through it. Let it air overnight, by moonlight. Come morning, it gets wrapped in willow then cooked,”

“Willow?” you tested.

“Willow that is strong and true. Willow that takes pain and fever and grief and releases you from it.”

You nodded and smiled.

“When the apple is cooked through, falling apart, you take the hellebore root and powder it,”

“Then what?”

Eddie hesitated. “Alas, I do not know…” he admitted. “I can’t find a way to close the spell,”

“Do you have any ideas?” you asked, standing up and coming to the kitchen counter. You looked at everything he had pulled out of the apothecary.

“Moreso, bad ideas. What not to do. Consume it, for example,”

“Yeah. That could kill me. Maybe even turn me into a werewolf,” you joked. The look on Eddie’s face was priceless. “Kidding. Hellebore is an active ingredient in lycanthropic ointment though… Mostly it’s used in what we used to call flying ointment, or magic salve. So no, I cannot consume it,”

“Yes… Well… I thought then, returning it to the earth. Burying it. That didn’t feel right,”

“Mmmhmm… I think you have a clue here,” you told him, pulling a bowl of eucalyptus seed pods forward. “Did you read about these?”

Eddie shook his head.

“They’re kind of amazing. Eucalyptus trees are native to Australia, but are planted ornamentally around the U.S. They produce a highly combustible oil through their leaves. Little fire bombs, basically. They catch ablaze easily. But, these little seedpods are fireproof, and when threatened with fire, they drop lots of seeds and fertilise the scorched ground. Within a couple of years, the burnt earth is already returning to its gloriously green form,”

“Very smart of them,”

“Very smart,” you agreed. “Maybe we can learn from them. We can not just withstand the blaze, but add fuel, let it all burn, and start again,”

“The powder… we let it go free…” Eddie said slowly, catching on to what you’re saying.

“Ah-huh. We give it to the wind.”

Working side by side, you and Eddie cored apples and filled the void with black hellebore root. You set them on the kitchen windowsill ready for the moonlight. (You’d have to take down all the window’s covers though, sunproof house and all.)

Eddie was proud. It was written all over his face.

“Now who’s the little witch?” you whispered to him, stepping up to his body, pressing yours to his.

In reply, Eddie pulled you close, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame. He kissed the top of your head then pressed his cheek to it, resting on you.

“Thank you. Nobody has ever written a spell for me before… Well… Not a good one…” You looked up at him. “You are good, Eddie. And you’re allowed to be. You can be… both. Everything,”

“Everything,” he repeated quietly.

“Yeah… So… What now? We can’t work on them until tomorrow.”

Eddie swept you off to the bedroom by the time you opened your eyes after your next blink.

“But it’s not bedtime,” you said voice saccharine and purposefully dumb.

Eddie grinned. “It’s not. I don’t want you to go to sleep now anyway,”

“No?” You sat on the edge of the unmade bed, looking up at Eddie.

He stood between your legs, reaching out to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs running softly across your skin. He smiled wide, teeth sharp. “I’m very, very hungry.”

Eddie rarely let himself taste your blood, though the occurrences were becoming more regular. He was scared of a multitude of things. Not being able to stop. Seeing something in your magic blood he couldn’t unsee. Pissing off some ancient and unknown creature that would resurrect if ever a vampire munched on a witch.

Sometimes, if you begged pretty enough, you’d get a small bite out of him. But it was better when he came asking for it. The soft inner thigh was his greatest weakness.

Lifting your arms up, Eddie followed the instruction and took your shirt off. You fell back against the bed and let him push your skirt up. He dropped to his knees and kissed the tops of your thighs. Up, up, up, until his mouth was bruising the skin above where the femoral artery was pumping blood.

You still didn’t know how he did it, how he could make it feel so good. You didn’t want to know. It was his own secret vampire magic and it was one mystery that would never appear on your murder board.

Eddie’s teeth sank in and your hot, red blood began to flow. He pushed you further back on the bed, then held your leg up, so the blood would pour down towards where you were already wet. His tongue lapped at blood and arousal fast. He didn’t waste a single drop.

You writhed under him, eyes screwed shut, and body on fire. The vibration of his tongue was pulling you ever closer to climax, but he wouldn’t stay in one spot long enough to let you get there.

Eddie grabbed your hand and smashed it to where he’d bitten you. “Heal it,” he growled, barely able to form words. You did what he said and he licked your palm clean of blood as a thank you. He hooked his arms under your legs and ripped you back to the edge of the bed. Then, he was positioned exactly where he needed to be to let you get there.

End Note: We're back in Hawkins... Now what? Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

Fic Taglist: @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner

#Mine #Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Vampire!Eddie Munson #Bat!Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson x Reader

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