#100 for her 500 for the skin

[terra-tortoise]

i said i wasnt allowed to buy any dragons or skins and all my funds had to go to finishing projects but alas. she spoke to me. so i spent 600g on her -_-

[solitary-traveler]

Ascent to Oblivion part 2 - echoes of regret

He wanted you to awaken, yet he’s not sure why. Maybe he wanted answers. A reasonable explanation for your absurd actions.

Notes: Ahhhhh, I'm finally free again! I'm so sorry for not posting for a while, I was busy. Anyways, thank you so much for being patient with me. Part 2 is finally outttt. Also, tried a new writing style? I decided to go for less editing on this one, I want to see if it's better in terms of writing emotions. Thank you for 100 followers btw. You guys are the best <33

Warning: reader is not traveler btw, scara's pov after the battle, slight angst?

Peace was a luxury that Scaramouche could never afford.

How could he, when the treachery was etched in the steps of his past ?

Yet the solitude that submerged the city of Sumeru leaves a bitter taste resting on his tongue. He settled beside a statue of the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, overlooking the city she once presided over. The region he was supposed to subjugate and bend to his will. 

For once, he’ll be the one exercising control, toying with the strings of his very own marionette play. He’ll devote himself to the role of the puppeteer, finding delight in engineering the people to act according to his words and his words alone. To constrain them to kneel and beg for mercy, manipulating their resolve for his own amusement. 

But alas, it was not meant to be. For he had been defeated by a pesky Traveler and their idiotic companions. 

Scaramouche’s face soured. 

What a disgrace.

His sharp eyes remained its scornful glare at the city. He can not stand staring at the tranquility he yearned to have. The gentle winds that rushed his way seemed to mock him further . It left a lingering caress on his cheek, offering a taste of what he’d been missing for 500 years. He scowls, the hatred evident in his features. A flurry of fallen leaves soon crashed in his direction, dancing away as it avoided him to catch up with the gust of air. One such leaf had landed on your face though, as you lay asleep beside him. He had almost forgotten he brought you here on a whim, despite the Lesser Lord Kusanali’s warnings. 

Their conversation was still fresh in his mind. Having visited you a few times everyday, the Dendro Archon’s attention was caught. She harbored a small smile on her tiny face, her voice warm as usual.

“You don’t have to come here everyday you know?”

He recalls sighing in reply, “I know.”

“But I have to”

Have to, huh?

His answer never really made sense, even to him. He doesn't know why he possessed such a strong obligation to see you. Maybe it had something to do with the turmoil of emotions he was experiencing, raging in his non-existent heart and influencing his thoughts. He wanted you to awaken, yet he’s not sure why.

Maybe he wanted answers. A reasonable explanation for your absurd actions.

Scara still remembers that day. Every single detail. He can’t forget how your body pressed against his, the metallic red a cool contrast to his overheating skin. The way your arms encompassed around him, squeezing him tightly like you were terrified he’d vanish without a trace. He recounts the smash of the debris falling on you, a consequence you suffered for attempting to shield him from danger. 

A stupid move, really. 

He was a puppet, a mere rubble like that was not a threat to his utility. Yet you , with all your mortal characteristics, decided to play hero and shelter him from it. Now look where that got you.

Asleep . 

For two whole weeks. 

Why even bother doing something like that? He wasn’t someone you’d want to save. He had hurt you prior to his fall, yet with no hesitation, you jumped to catch him. 

…You dumbass.

What’s so special about him anyways?

He was nothing more than a discarded puppet, a vessel that was tossed away. A broken doll who's shattered pieces had crumbled to dust, leaving behind a shell of who he once was. 

What part of him was worthy of your adoration? To the point where you disregard your safety just to come to his rescue?

He was insignificant.  A failure . A worthless scrap of metal.

The despairing sobs he vocalized that day served as a reminder that his existence was a mistake. He plummeted to a time in the past when a shed tear sealed his fate to be discarded. He expected you to do the same. 

Yet you didn't .

You didn't abdicate him. You didn't push him away. You simply emboldened your hold and refused to let go. Your touch brought such fervor ardor he had never felt before, a fleeting emotion that loiters within his senses despite the passage of time. Your touch provided him the solace he'd been searching for. But did he even deserve that comfort? 

He eyes your complexion, and his chest burns. What a cruel play by fate, charming the wires of affection out of his grasp and awarding it to you like a trophy.

If only you didn't catch him, then he wouldn't be this troubled.

If only you let him fall.

If only you never cared.

The burn starts to grow, the searing sting tormenting the foundation of his being. His stomach lurches, oh how badly he wants to throw up. Maybe he'll end up vomiting all these useless feelings too.

He wills to change the past, for a preferable outcome in the future. If he never existed, this dilemma would cease to exist. He wouldn’t have to suffer, and you would go on your merry way. Like a parallel line, your paths would never be bound to meet. Maybe then, you wouldn’t be asleep in the first place. Maybe you’d be out there somewhere, roaming Teyvat with the Traveler without the hindrance of his presence.

His existence bordered between pain and fury anyway, and he knew more than anyone how it was certainly a life not worth prevailing. 

With a sigh, Scara narrowed those eyes of his in your direction. How dare you look so peaceful when he's over here, drenched in a scorching passion of self-hatred? The audacity to just remain there, with your pretty eyes closed, and not bother doing anything about it. He huffs, ready to hurl more insults at you. Maybe you’ll wake up from it, returning his jabs as you shoot him a dirty look. And yet… 

“Sorry…”

Something entirely different tumbled out of his mouth. He blinks, barely registering the phrases ripped from his throat. Did he just-

“...I’m sorry”

Why was he apologizing? What was there to apologize for? He wanted to slander you for your interference in his life, not to beg for forgiveness.

A drop of water descends onto your cheek. Huh?

Was it starting to rain?

“...You idiot”

He stops. Has he always sounded like that? Strained… and distressed? 

And why was his vision blurring?

“Please…”

The pang of discomfort bites him without a warning, and it hurts. It hurts so bad. His trembling hands reach out to you. He wants to nuzzle against your arms again, to have you drown out his sorrows in an act of intimacy he’s been longing for.

“Please wake up already”

Taglist: @featuredtofu, @slaylatus, @feikyuu, @yourfavoritefreakyhan, @materialgrowll,

@lxkeeeee, @l4r1n3, @cicil-nema, @alaynac101-blog, @beomtorii2,

@strawbeewie,

@gravy-kfc, @kaeeelie, @pocketdroll, @ladyvelvette, @mmeatt,

@itzshizuyaxd, @swivi

Taglist for (possible) part 3??

[shibaraki]

🍉 ─ SPONSOR A WIP FOR GAZA

Hi friends!! I don't know how this will go but I wanted to participate and help contribute a little bit more to the fundraising efforts for Gaza set up by ficsforgaza. I’m taking things slower on the writing front this year so I only have a few to list, some longer than others. Even so, I hope some appeal to you and encourage you to give a donation.

RATE: $1 per 100 words

INSTRUCTIONS: donate to a vetted fundraiser of your choosing, take a screenshot of the donation confirmation (make sure your private information is censored) and send it to me along with the title of whatever WIP you're sponsoring!

Here’s an example:

hi monty! here's proof of my donation to child mohammed and family's gofundme. I'd like this to go toward the wip 'name your courage' :) ty!! [screenshot.png showing evidence of donation states that $5 was given, therefore 500 words will be written for the wip titled 'name your courage']

Upon receiving your ask (I won't be publishing them) I will amend the list below and prioritise progressing that WIP as well as keeping this post updated weekly. Just for clarity: I’ll be submitting redacted evidence I receive to @ficsforgaza to try and ensure that people are not sending those same screenshots to different writers.

TO AVOID BEING OVERWHELMED I HAVE MADE A DONATION WC GOAL FOR EACH WIP❗️Just to be clear—donations go towards progressing a WIP. The sole purpose of this is to encourage donations and spread awareness. Every little bit helps. Even if a fic doesn’t get completed right away I still appreciate your participation and promise to fulfil the WC goals.

🍉 ─ WIPS AVAILABLE:

↳ NAME YOUR COURAGE — BAKUGO KATSUKI #: GN AFAB reader, post canon au, quirkless discrimination, falling in love, social work, worldbuilding, angst + fluff + eventual smut

determined to reach deep inside himself and reconcile the shame that still lingers there, pro hero dynamight publicly aligns with a well-known quirkless charity organization. what he gains is greater than he could’ve imagined.

current wc: 12,932/20,000+ donated (goal) wc: 5,000/5,000 🎊 ☑️

↳ A MANY SPLENDORED THING — KUROO TETSURO #: GN AFAB reader, divorcee kuroo, best friends to lovers, heavy mutual pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut + romance

you wonder, not for the first time, why tetsuro could never see what was right in front of him. it was as though the compass of his sharp intuition reversed polarity when you were in the vicinity. you’ve been in love with him since you were sixteen and he’s the one person that never noticed.

current wc: 13,962/20,000+ donated (goal) wc: 5,000/5,000 🎊 ☑️

↳ #HEARTBURN — TODOROKI SHOUTO [COLLAB FIC] #: GN reader, meet-cutes, social media + shipping, reader is a paramedic, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff + humour

who knew your run-ins with the suspiciously accident prone pro-hero shouto would capture the hearts of the general public—or that a bit of harmless flirting could have such inconvenient consequences?

current wc: 2,500/5,000 donated (goal) wc: 2,500/2,500 🎊 ☑️

↳ EMERGENCY CONTACT — AIZAWA SHOUTA #: GN reader, friends to lovers, fluff + humour, sexual tension, reader is an underground hero, adopted eri, getting together

when aizawa gives eri a special card with a number to call if there’s ever a big emergency and no one else is around who can help, he doesn't consider the fact that her idea of an emergency is vastly different from his.

current wc: 1,600/3,000 donated (goal) wc: 2,500/2,500 🎊

↳ THE STAG — OKKOTSU YUUTA [RETURNING WIP!] #: AFAB reader, courtesan au (no curses), courtesan yuuta, reader is a tailor, falling in (forbidden) love, fluff + angst, love letters

your hands were made to embroider, to cut fine silks and sew tales into fabric. from time to time they’ll find themselves touching a courtesans skin. it is only to measure, and never for pleasure.

current wc: 649/? donated (goal) wc: 2,000/2,000 🎊

↳ SOMETHING BORROWED — NANAMI KENTO [EVENT WIP!] #: AFAB GN reader, no curse au, neighbours to lovers, single parent nanami, foster kids yuji + sukuna, fake engagement, pining, getting together

the precious little you know about your neighbor is that he’s handsome, unmarried, and he has two long term foster sons. after the twins panic during an inspection and identify you as nanami’s fiancé, you’re left with the opportunity to learn more. 

current wc: 10,288/? donated (goal) wc: 250/2,000 ☑️

That’s all for now, though there is a possibility that I will add more WIPs later. And let me know if you’ve got any questions (or if I’ve missed anything lol).

It’s totally fine if you can’t donate or if none of these fics appeal to you!! Please feel free to check out the other writers on @ficsforgaza’s page if you’d rather sponsor some different fics, or even make requests to those accepting them ^_^ thank you guys!

HERE’S EVEN MORE WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE, AND DON’T FORGET YOUR DAILY CLICKS!

[olivianyx]

UPDATES ON MY JOURNEY

Heyy all! I've been focusing on my senior professional medical year and it has been stressful. So here are some things I manifested effortlessly and a few things without me thinking about it. Long ass post ahead! ⚠️⚠️

1. Getting more pocket money than usual. Like my parents usually transact in my account like a $80 or $100 AUD per month. But in both feb and march this year, they transacted me $500 and $700 AUD! Plus! I occasionally find $10 or $50 cash in my classroom or on the streets sometimes (and they come lie next to my feet 😭) I'd ask everyone in my class if it's theirs, and they say no. What do y'all expect me to do? Like go and give it to the university management?? 😭 hell no, so i kept it lol.

2. MANIFESTED DIOR'S LIP OILS!! 😭😭 LIKE 5 OF THEM 😭 YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH I'VE OBSESSED WITH LIP OILS 😭😭 AND I WANTED THE RASPBERRY ONE SO BAD, AND GUESS WHAT? I MANIFESTED IT ALONG WITH 4 OTHER SHADESS OMGGG 😭😭😭

3. My crush giving me hints that she's obsessed with me 😭 like she literally told me 'you're so sweet and caring, I've never met a person like this after my grandma' cus her grandma passed away recently and she was so depressed. She even had an eye infection, so she stopped coming to the uni. So i had to make sure she's alright, and met her everyday cus she needed someone real bad. Like she needed to talk to someone and get that thing bothering her outta her head. I was there all along whatever she was going through (don't come at me y'all, ik if we help someone they would say all these things but she's my crush lol so) She's also getting real close to me, like she tells me how annoying people are lol. She loves skin ship, physical touch, being clingy around me, and complimenting me 😭😭 so these are the hints 😭 like friends wouldn't do that right? Would they?? (My friends diss me right in front of everyone 😶)

4. I've always been the type to care too much for the silliest things, nowadays I don't really put my energy into it and become all anxious. My anxiety levels have completely gone down like I'm literally cool asf?? Even while being in public?? Literally yess

5. Manifested getting my hair coloured next week! and my mom permitted me! For my cousin's engagement in april, I wanna be there like the hot younger sister I am lol. I just wanna make my relatives and their kids jealous cus they made fun of me when I was younger (my younger self has been dreaming for this moment) so why not a revenge glow up?? 😭

6. Losing weight even though I eat like a pig due to my study stress. Like literally I ate a 5 course meal one day and lost 2 kgs the next day? (cus I randomly checked my weight for 2 days cus I had to submit my height and weight to the university student records)

7. Getting a natural blush on my face! Like it's such a game changer, I look like a movie star y'all 😭✋🏻

8. My teachers complimenting me for my discipline and high scores. As yk uni professors don't even give af bout students and they complimented me??

9. Getting into a new friend group! My old one was too toxic and they would always bully me (verbally) my new friend group is literally soo damn enjoyable! Like they're the cool kids of the year 😭 and now I'm one too!

10. As I mentioned in my older post that I'm moving into an apartment. We moved in and it was too difficult for me to sleep as the place was new and also there we're disturbances in the night time like stomping noises or playing loud music at night. So the neighbors there were too sweet that they introduced and comforted us that it's okay and if something's bothering us they'll take care of it. And they literally made the people who we're causing those disturbances to vacate out 😭😭✋🏻

11. My hair getting shinier! It was brittle before as I was severely anemic, now my baby hair is back and it's shining ✨

12. I overheard my parents conversing that they should make me audition for an entertainment company....like what? 😭😭✋🏻 when I asked them once years back they denied giving me a 4 hour lecture and now they wanna make me audition?? Like literally 😭 y'all watch me at the Grammy's (after 5 years lol)

13. Getting into the void on command or intention.

14. I literally get free foods everywhere I go 😭😭

15. I got free gifts from my uncle who's living in France! He works at a fashion company and he sent me perfumes and a few outfits (I can't reveal it I'm sorry)

I ONLY WAS THINKING ABOUT GETTING MY LIP OIL, GETTING CLOSE TO MY CRUSH AND FOCUSING ON MY STUDIES. THE REST, I MANIFESTED WITHOUT THINKING ABOUT IT.

SO WHAT NEXT?

I've decided to respawn to my waiting next month. I'm still scripting how my waiting room should be... So it might take time for me. So till then I'm gonna be strengthening my self concept even more, and also getting more and more excited to be in my waiting room! I want my waiting room to be like a more like a sci fi movie and a princess fairytale combined 😭 (ik I'm weird). Like I just want my favorite anime characters to be there to help me script my DR ✋🏻 So I'm kinda in a more excited mode lately to script my waiting room! Will give you updates on how my waiting room will be in a future post! So until then take care, love you, byeeee byeeee!

- olivia 🤍

[imaginethesepages]

say my name.

What do you mean you don’t know when she’ll wake up?

Captain, please, the impact on her head when she fell from the attack did a damage to her skull, leading to her current state. There is nothing much we can do but wait.

Huh? What— what’s going on? What are they talking about, and is that… Captain Narumi?

Nothing? No. We have the best facilities and the best equipment. What do you mean there’s nothing we can do!?

Captain Narumi, stop! Let go of the doctor now!

Master Moron, you need to calm down.

Wait— what is going on? Nothing is making sense.

I’m sorry, captain. We did our best; it’s all up to her now.

Every day, I hear them come and go, the soft clicks of a door closing, the tiny creaking noise of a dragging chair, and the constant beeps copying the rhythm of my heart. Sometimes, I can sense the cold wind on my skin or calloused fingers brushing my cheeks and grazing my hand. But I’m not too sure.

Everything is reverberated with dullness, like how I can hear the voices but never make out the words. It’s all muted and unclear.

How long will you keep sleeping? You’re worrying everyone, you know.

I don’t know, I want to say. I’m trying — really, I am. But everything is so heavy, like my muscles are too lazy to function, and every fiber is on a strike, not wanting to do its obligations.

You need to wake up, you hear me. You promised to follow me into battle, to have my back as I have yours. I’m holding you to that promise.

I remember. I did promise him that. 

My finger twitches, and I hear a gasp. Already, moving a single finger feels like lifting an enormous boulder with my entire being only an inch off the ground. But the same calloused fingers grab my hand, warm and encouraging — cheering me to push forward and out of the abyss.

You need to wake up. Who else would pull me away from my games if not for you? Who else would control my impulsive buying? Who else would I listen to? 

Ah, he’s right. Who knows what may happen if I leave the captain alone? He’d probably make Hasegawa-san want to pull out his hair — and that’s saying something when he’s already bald.

I chuckle. It probably sounded like a concerning wheeze. But it doesn’t matter, for all I can think of as I forced my eyes open is, “I cannot let Captain Narumi down.”

And what a sight for sore eyes he truly is.

How bad were my injuries? Did you really try to hurt the doctors who took care of me?

Can I still fight? Will you still let me stand beside you?

Did we succeed with the mission? What else did I miss?

Have you set the First Division up in flames yet? I pray and hope not.

How long have you been waiting, captain? Did I make you wait long?

I’m sorry for worrying you. Though, I can’t promise I won’t do it again.

I want to say so much and ask so many. But all that comes out is…

“He-hey, Gen.”

jeuel, did you just write a 500+ word drabble? well, yes. yes, i did. and let me tell you, it shocked me as well.

if you're new to my inconsistent and random drabble posting, i normally write for whatever fandom i feel like with whatever concept i can think of — mostly angst, not much on comedy. and usually, they only end up within 100 — 300 words, never 500!!

so this, for me, is a monster drabble 🤯

idk what happened, i just kept writing. and when i was editing it, i just couldn't keep it within my preferred word count range. when i took some paragraphs out, they didn't make sense without them. so, i just said, "screw it!! leave it like that."

anyway, enjoy xx

[xdacted]

not here

Pairing: Reader x Carlos Sainz Jr.

Warnings: pure 100% fluff, nothing but fluff, the tiniest hint of angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 500

Status: Completed

Carlos didn’t get to see her as often as he wanted. 

He didn’t even get to see her as often as he needed. There was always something pulling him away. Always a phone call to be taken, an autograph to be signed, an interview to be helped - always something. 

But not now. 

Not here. 

Not in the quiet hours of the morning, just before daybreak, the sun resting below the horizon. The moon cast pure light through the windows, moonbeams dancing across their sheets, stars twinkling beside them. Her arms curled around a pillow, legs tangled together. He didn’t know where he began and she ended, but he liked it that way. The lingering night breeze brushed against his bare skin, sweeping through the windows. The world outside fluttered awake, but Carlos had her here. 

Pressed to her back, arms tucked around her waist, buried in the thicket of her hair. Carlos couldn’t see her face, but he had memorized it. Each shadow, each line, each curve - each beautiful feature was committed to memory. The soft sound of her snores filled their room, her heartbeat steady against his skin. 

Not a thing could reach them here. 

He liked it that way. 

Carlos leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to the exposed skin of her shoulder, “Hermosa.”

His voice was too quiet to wake her, but he liked to see her nose twitch at the sound. 

Beautiful. 

Moments like these, where the world seemed to still for just a second, made the distance agonizing. Separated by oceans, miles of land, hours of the day - it was painful. Race weekends were filled with exhilaration and adrenaline. Race weekends were also filled with a clawing sense of breathlessness. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

But here, laying beside her without a care in the world, he breathed. 

Carlos breathed. 

Inhaling the scent of her shampoo and the dying hints of her perfume, she filled his lungs.

He breathed. 

She turned in his arms with a heavy sigh, burrowing into his chest. Carlos couldn’t help but smile, tightening his arms around her. 

He didn’t see her as often as he wanted, but she was here now. 

Behind him, the sun began to rise, warmth trailing up his back. Soft rays crawled up the sky, spilling across her skin, and coiling in her hair. Carlos leaned down, pressing another kiss to her cheek and neck. She groaned, scrunching her eyebrows together. 

A gentle laugh rumbled from his chest, dropping another kiss to her nose, “Hermosa…”

“...stop watching me sleep…”

Her voice was scratchy and unused, the corner of her lip quirked to reveal the smallest hint of a smile. 

“But you’re so beautiful,” He whispered, nuzzling into her neck, “How can I help myself?”

A giggle fell from her lips like wind chimes singing together - beautiful. 

“It’s creepy,” She stretched, arms winding around his neck, “Better only be for me.”

“Of course,” He said, “No one but you.”

After all, not a thing could reach them. 

Not here. 

_____________________

A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3

Also this is my attempt at trying to get out of my writing slump, it's short, it's sweet. I like it, so pls enjoy

[insipid-drivel]

Toxins, Venom, and Poisons in Historical Western Medicine: How Are We Not Extinct From Doing Some Of This To Ourselves?

This piece is an involuntary piece inspired by @writing-with-sophia's awesome post "Poison list", which is an accurate and succinct list of commonly known (and ancient!) poisons, venoms, and toxins that have been and were used for causing poisoning in ancient and recent history. I wanted to write this because what struck me by their post crossing my dash was, the sheer number of poisons listed that were - and even still are - used as mainstays for healthcare around the world throughout the ages!

OBLIGATORY DON'T BE A DUMBASS PSA: If you're planning on incorporating these poisons into your HISTORICAL-era writing, it's also important to remember that many of them were used for medicinal purposes at one time, too, and it's great you're interested in learning about the subject! And also, you shouldn't try ANY of these! I will not tell you how to do it at home if you DM me, so don't! You are not appropriately trained to do it! You will harm or kill yourself and possibly your loved ones if you fuck around with any of these and it will be 100% your fault and you absolutely should feel bad bout it! I've seen some of you idiots believe 4chan posts about making home-grown crystals using recipes for actual mustard gas and seen you being wheeled into the ER on the news! I will not feel bad if you get yourself hurt if you screw around with any of these plants, elements, or animals!

Resource blog plugs and PSA over, now for the Hilariously Poisonous Medicines:

If you're writing something that's meant to take place prior to the advent of our more modern understanding of poisons, venoms, and toxins, factoring in "this is toxic to me NOW, but what about 500 years ago?" can add a lot of opportunities for interesting plot elements to your story.

These can include someone accidentally poisoning themselves with a toxic drug or substance that wouldn't have killed them if they'd handled it properly - like tansy? Grows all over the place in Europe and England? That'll kill you if you harvest it too late in the season, but it's good for intestinal parasites when it's harvested early in the year and processed right.

Did the lady's maid really kill her mistress with belladonna? Or was she trying to secretly help her mistress get rid of an unwanted pregnancy?

The protagonist's children can't survive to make it to weaning age! Is the wetnurse a poisoner, or does the milkman hide that he sells sour milk by pouring Borax into it so no one could taste it and has no idea he's killing his clients' babies?

Nuance and cultural mores regarding historical views about poisons and toxins can make writing even more fun, dynamic, and interesting! Explore 'em!

Just... please don't try any of this crap yourself. You will poison yourself, it will hurt, you will die, and you will hurt the entire time you're dying. Using OP's master list alone, here's the flip side of these lethal beasts through the eyes of our distant ancestors who believed illness was caused by "vapors", "bad air", and "imbalanced humors":

Hemlock:

Used across multiple different cultures in history. When properly administered to treat a disease, poison hemlock was used to treat asthma, whooping cough, bronchitis, joint/bone pain, muscle cramps, and insomnia. Hemlock was most often used as a sedative and antispasmodic.

Arsenic:

Arsenic is a heavy metal, and so has been used in everything from making specialty dyes for wallpapers (Scheele's green is the most infamous arsenic-based paint; Queen Victoria once had a guestroom in her palace redone with Scheele's green wallpaper. The first dignitary to stay there had to be carried out and taken to emergency care after breathing astronomical amounts of arsenic dust from the wallpaper's paint), to medicine. Arsenic was especially commonly used in history to treat skin ailments ranging from acne, to psoriasis, to syphilis sores. It was also sometimes prescribed for menstrual cramps, upset stomachs, colic, and arthritis, among many, many other things.

Cyanide:

Uh... I have literally never found any evidence of cyanide in medicine, outside of its use in modern medicine as part of certain chemical lab tests for measuring urine ketone bodies that involve no contact with a patient whatsoever. Cyanide literally works in less than a few seconds to render your entire body incapable of absorbing OR using oxygen in your lungs or already existing in your blood. Cyanide is really only good at making things that breathe not breathe anymore.

Nightshade:

There are a lot of different "nightshades", so being specific is essential here. Potatoes are nightshades. Tomatoes are nightshades. Calling anything a "nightshade" does not inherently mean it's lethally toxic. Belladonna is probably the most notorious of the "deadly" nightshades, but to this day, is still used medicinally, and would actually be seen as a health and cosmetic mainstay in historical fiction, especially if your setting is in Italy!

Belladonna is an Italian portmanteau for "beautiful woman", because tinctures (water-based drops) of belladonna were commonly used by Italian women as eyedrops to dilate their eyes and appear more attractive, aroused, and desirable. Today, belladonna's eye-dilating effects are still used by optometrists to dilate the pupils! Belladonna has been, and still sometimes is used as an NSAID, general painkiller, motion sickness treatment, asthma medication, and even as a treatment for IBS.

Ricin:

As OP said, Ricin is derived from the toxin found in Castor Beans, and is surprisingly new as an official "the only reason this is made is to make someone dead" poison. Not only is ricin a popular "nobody would think to test for this!" choice in mystery/thriller writing, but it has been used for political assassinations in real life before. Georgi Markov, a Bulgarian anti-Communist dissenter and writer, was killed in 1978 with a 1.7mm diameter ricin-coated pellet shot into his thigh muscle by an unidentified assailant using a modified umbrella as a gun. He died 4 days later.

Historically, castor OIL has been used for medicinal purposes, especially for treating constipation, inducing labor in pregnancy, and as a topical skin moisturizer. If you've ever watched the opening scene in Disney's "Peter Pan", when the childrens' mother is trying to give them a spoonful of medicine each, she's actually giving them castor oil! Castor oil tastes really bad (so much so that flavorings like cinnamon were often added to try to muffle the taste), so the childrens' reluctance and disgust at their mom making them take their medicine is very realistic for the era the movie came out in!

Strychnine:

Another lethal poison that started life as a medicine/food additive. Strychnine is no longer used medicinally at all today, but historically, it was used to stimulate the heart, treat bladder and bowel incontinence, and limb palsy. Strychnine is a deadly-powerful muscle stimulant that, as a poison, causes horrifyingly painful full-body strictures (spasms) and destroys the cardiovascular system. (Fun fact: Strychnine and hydrochloric acid were historically mixed into cheap vodka to make knock-off gin, especially during the Georgian Era in England if the brewer didn't have or couldn't afford juniper berries!)

Snake Venom:

Seriously, do your research before you write an actual, real snake species using venom they don't produce! The Big 3 Forms Of Snake Venom are: Hemotoxic, Neurotoxic, and Cytotoxic. Specific snake species exclusively generate the same kind of venom (so a hemotoxic snake will ALWAYS produce baby snakes that also make hemotoxic venom). Aristotle himself wrote in 380 BC that certain snake venoms could be applied for treating fevers, smallpox, and leprosy, and there is even some evidence in the historical record prior to the 1800s that different cultures have experimented throughout the eons with using venom for converting into antivenom, but I've never found a source citing anyone making a successful form of antivenom until around the 1850s.

Digitalis:

OP really nailed the important thing about Digitalis, and that is it's cardiac benefits for certain people - particularly for treating congestive heart failure. Vincent van Gogh was actually prescribed epilepsy medication that likely contained Digitalis, aka Foxglove, and there are some prevailing theories about van Gogh's love of bright yellow paint as being either caused or exacerbated by the symptoms associated with digitalis use, which can cause an attraction to and increased visual sensitivity to the color yellow. In several portraits, including one of his own psychiatrist, van Gogh shows subjects presented alongside foxglove flowers. Digitalis is absolutely lethal if consumed or taken without expert guidance, however, because it's the mother ingredient of Digoxin. Digoxin isn't used as frequently as it used to be a few decades ago, but it's still used and prescribed today for certain forms of heart failure and heart disease. Digoxin was also, at one time, was also sometimes used to induce chemical abortions.

Lead:

Dear god, lead. Not only is it so slow to kill you that you'll think that the only way to manage your symptoms is with more lead, but lead poisoning can be a life-long crisis for a person who is regularly exposed to it. Humans have used lead for everything from plumbing, to paint, to our cutlery, to cosmetics, to medicine. While yes, it is very possible to ingest enough lead in a single sitting to die within hours or days, most sufferers of lead poisoning experience it for years or decades before the symptoms become obvious. Some archaeologists believe that the Romans used lead cutlery because lead has a unique reaction when we lick it: when you have lead coating your tongue, it makes EVERYTHING you eat suddenly taste 10x better. I learned this myself from going target-shooting with my mom at a gun rage as a teenager, inhaled gunsmoke (which contains lead), and went for lunch immediately after. Even though I was just eating a $5 meal from In-N-Out, my burger tasted so good I thought I was gonna have to change my pants. When I asked the rangemaster at the target place about it later, he literally said, "Oh yeah, lead makes the worst cooking taste like heaven."

The ancient Romans ate a lot of rotten, spoiled, and sour food, and so lead would've made it easier to eat it back then. But the neurological effects of lead poisoning are nightmarish. It's suspected that, in America, the #1 reason we had so many active serial killers in the country from the 1940s-2000s was because of leaded gasoline. Ever since leaded gasoline was banned? Serial and random violent crime rates have dramatically gone down, especially in metropolitan cities. Ancient Rome, too, gradually became an increasingly violent city as its population went up and its reliance on lead did. We're only just now starting to figure out how toxic lead actually is, so go nuts with using it as a plot element regarding subjects like "Why Are You Like This?"

Mercury:

Mercury is also known as quicksilver, because in spite of being a heavy metal, the temperature at which it melts into a liquid is very, very low compared to most other metals. The first Emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang, was rumored to be so obsessed with the notion of immortality that he would send his doctors on doomed voyages around the world searching for a legendary substance that would, indeed, make him immortal. Legend has it that some doctors who were tasked with the job found out about the last guys, and produced mercury before Emperor Qin Shi Huang and cried, "Here it is! I got it!" so they wouldn't end up doomed to drown at sea. Qin Shi Huang became so obsessed with ingesting and medicating himself with mercury that, when his legendary tomb was being constructed, he had a small-yet-accurate-to-scale map of China+the known world about the size of a football field with every body of water full of fountains of running mercury in his burial chamber. His tomb was rediscovered in the last couple of decades after archaeologists found suspiciously high levels of mercury in the soil on top of a "hill" that had been sitting in the countryside untouched for thousands of years. It turned out to be Qin Shi Huang's long-lost tomb.

Since those days, mercury has closely been associated in early medicine as a sort of cure-all, since it literally kills anything it touches (including people). Captain Blackbeard himself, the most notorious pirate in Western history (Western specifically; google who Zheng Yi Sao was), was known or widely believed to be a syphilis sufferer, and desperately sought infusions of mercury from ships he'd capture (and the doctors onboard) to treat it, believing like everyone did that mercury could cure syphilis. It can't. They just didn't understand back then that syphilis starts off surface-level, and then eats your brain years after the initial infection.

Aconite:

Again, ridiculously toxic outside of specific medicinal applications that still aren't safe today! Aconite, or wolfsbane, has historically been used as a heart sedative (for slowing the heart), diuretic, painkiller, and even used to induce sweating. Evidence of wolfsbane being used for medicinal purposes has been spotted here and there over thousands of years throughout the Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Empires, but its original use came about in Ancient Greece for hunting and culling wolves by poisoning bait-food with it. That form of hunting died out long before the European Middle Ages, but the name "wolfsbane" stuck. Mostly because in the Middle Ages, a lot of people believed werewolves were a huge problem, and kept wolfsbane handy to deter said werewolves.

Thallium:

Today, thallium is mostly used in the production of camera and eyeglass lenses. Before its toxicity was known about, it wasn't strange to hear of thallium being used topically to treat fungal infections like ringworm. Thallium was also sporadically used in treating typhus and tuberculosis, along with a wide array of sexually transmitted diseases.

This list doesn't even touch the tip of the toxic iceberg when it comes to the sheer quantity of hilariously dangerous toxins people have, or still continue, to use for medicinal purposes! In a Victorian-era English London middle-class townhouse setting alone, there were dozens and dozens of ways to poison or otherwise harm yourself just by going about your daily life. So, if you've got a period piece you're working on, or are just bored, you can pick an exact date and time in our history and learn just how terrifyingly comfortable our ancestors were with upsettingly dangerous substances and home remedies. You can also watch a massive docuseries, called "Hidden Killers" and hosted by historian Suzannah Lipscomb, among other historians and archaeologists, which deep-dives into the hidden and unknown dangers of living in eras from Tudor-Era England, to the Post-WWII Reconstruction Age.

As a final note: I am NOT bashing Chinese or Eastern medicinal practices here, and in fact deliberately have gone out of my way to not include any references toward culturally-sanctioned medicinal practices in Eastern and Southeastern Asia. This post is specifically related to the history of WESTERN medicines and their associated history. I am not, nor have I ever been, a doctor of any traditional Eastern medicinal practices, and do not pretend to know better. Sinophobes are unwelcome in my blog space.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Reader | The Beauty of Intimacy

type: smut (& a bit of angst) warning(s): explicit descriptions, curse words, mature language word count: 3.1k words

request: Hi could you write some thing where reader and azriel have been in a relationship for a little bit but whenever azriel tries to like do anything with her she brushed him off and be begins to think she’s not attracted to him but then she tells him that it’s because she’s never really had a positive experience with sex and so azriel shows her how amazing sex with him can be and like just worships her??? Srry this is so specific but I love your writing and would love to read this!!

- all rights reserved -

"Is it because of the scars?" Azriel’s demeanour is solemn, his shadows calm, his eyes empty, sad.

A small crack appears in your heart and you quickly lift your gaze to meet your lover’s. "No," you say. "No, of course not."

Crossing one leg behind the ankle of the other Azriel leans his shoulder against the doorframe. Then his head, and his eyes close for a long moment. 

"What is it then? Y/N, please tell me." He is almost begging you to be honest with him, his tone desperate. As desperate as all his attempts for the two of you to be intimate have been. It isn't that you don’t want to sleep with him. It is way more complicated. You have never found pleasure during sex, you have never had one single positive experience and at this point you think it is because of you. Yes, you blame this lack of sensual heights on yourself. Maybe you simply cannot enjoy it? Maybe you do something wrong? Maybe there is something wrong with you?

"I thought you weren’t a virgin. Did you not tell the truth when we talked about our past? Are you scared? Nervous?” Azriel asks and blinks his eyes open. "I don’t care at all, we can go slow. But please, just tell if it has something to do with me. If it is about me. Are you not attracted to me? Not sexually attracted?"

Gods, you are. There is no male who is only half as beautiful as Azriel, and you are more than attracted to him. 

"I am no virgin and that is not the problem—"

"Then what is the problem? I don’t want to push you. I don’t want to force you to have sex with me, but I would like to understand. That is all. I just want to understand," Azriel says, his voice turning softer and gentler. He pushes off the wall and slowly makes his way over to the bed you sit on.

His throat burns when his mouth parts to ask one last question. "Did someone hurt you? Did someone touch when you didn’t want it? You can be honest with me. Always."

You love Azriel so much. And especially for that. For how good his heart is, how thoughtful he is, how understanding.

Sliding your hands over his, you draw in a deep breath and give your head a shake. "No. Thank you for asking, but no." Azriel exhales a shuddering breath of relief.

Leaning forward, you let one hand slide up his arm to his neck, you lips meeting his in a soft and quick kiss. "I just don’t like…sex."

"Sex is something beautiful," Azriel says and a sheepish smile blooms on his face.

The corner of your own mouth moves up at how adorable he looks. "Is it?” You raise your brow.

Azriel nods his head frantically and places his thumb under your chin, tipping it up. "One oft the most beautiful things in this world, I might say." His eyes have turned darker, the shadows becoming alive around his figure. The shadowsinger’s posture changes from formerly rather reserved to confident and he rolls back his shoulders, sitting straighter now. Your eyes meet, and warmth fills your body.

Nervousness coats your insides, your skin prickling. "I am not sure if I am…capable of having sex. Good sex, I mean. There is not one positive experience I have made and I am over 500, Azriel. It must have something to do with me."

A low chuckle leaves the shadowsinger and he gives his head a tiny shake, silken strands of onyx hair shifting with movement. "There is nothing wrong with you, I am 100% positive about that."

You love his certainty, but you can’t quite agree with him.

"Why don’t I find it… pleasurable then?"

"Because you may have not yet been with the right male," Azriel says, his brow lifting in an almost cocky way. It is this slight arrogance that changes his demeanour that makes your toes curl and the hair on his body stand. 

Your voice becomes a breathy whisper when you feel a shadow dance over your bare thigh and you lean forward. "And now I am?"

His low chuckle reverberates through you, his lips brushing yours and tingling them with the vibrations of his laugh. Azriel pecks you shortly and then says against your lips, "Now you are."

You change your sitting position, stretching your legs. ”And you are going to convince me now that it is something enjoyable?"

The shadowsinger’s scarred hand smoothes up your foot, higher onto your leg and back down again. He lifts his gaze to yours and smirks. "I going to prove to you that sex is one of the most beautiful things in the world," he drawls, his index finger circling your ankle. "Only if you want that, of course."

Wet heat fills your body when you draw in a deep breath and bow your head. "I want that."

You really want to. You want it to be good. You want for yourself to enjoy it. You have faith— Azriel is a phenomenal male, he would do it right, would make you feel right. This is going to be good, Azriel is different to the males before him, he has already proven that many times.

His fingers curl around your ankle and he lifts your leg, carefully sliding closer to you and placing your leg over his lap, your other one behind his back. Azriel regards you, silently assessing you.

"So you’ve never come then?"

"Obviously," you whisper and avert your gaze when heat flushes your cheeks. Azriel’s fingers continue their exploration, dancing over your knee up to your thigh. The spymaster draws idle circles to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs which already makes you want to squeeze them together. "Never made yourself come either?"

You could practically the warmth radiating from your cheeks. "I think…I have."

"Thinking about me?"

Biting down on your lower lip you nod.

"That’s a good girl."

His praise almost has you squirming. Gods, you haven’t known that you would like that. But something about the way he said it, the deep tenor of his voice reverberating through your body, did something to you.

His hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, Azriel leans into you, damp lips coasting over your ear. "I should have known you like that. Should have known my lovely lady likes to be praised for the things she does so well." His lips curl when he pecks the pointy end of your ear, chuckling softly.

“Well, “Azriel drawls, his scarred hands slowly sliding over your skin, the calluses rough against it. "Lean back against the head board," the shadowsinger orders, his voice commanding yet soft.

You do as told, nestling between the pillows and behaving like his good girl. But there is still this teeny-tiny kernel of nervousness in you — what if not even Azriel can make you reach your height? What if it truly is something about your body and he just tries to be nice?

The shadowsinger must have noticed your unease, his smile faltering, happiness slowly fading.

Azriel swipes his thumb over your cheek. "I really want you to know that," Azriel says, his eyes piercing into yours, "you not finding pleasure has nothing to do with you. It is generally more difficult for females to reach their height, but if the male does everything right and takes proper care of their lover it most definitely should work. It has nothing to do with you, you can trust me on that."

Relief truly starts blossoms in your chest at that, the corners of your mouth tipping upwards. You slowly dip your chin and smile.

"I trust you on that."

A low but content growl leaves Azriel at that and he hooks his scarred hands under your knee pits, bracing your feet on the bed and easing your thighs apart. Your nightgown pools at your hips, Azriel’s gaze dropping to your centre. He leans closer and pecks your bent knee before his gaze lifts to yours. "Now," he drawls, "let me worship you. Let me show you how beautiful intimacy can be."

The shadowsinger’s damp lips brush down the inside of your thigh, his silken strands toppling over his forehead and tingling your skin. A strangled sound leaves you when a throbbing feeling starts in your core and you desperately want to squeeze your thighs together. Azriel’s grip is tight, holding your legs spread open. He tips his head back, a brow raising when your gazes met. "Uh-oh."

His tongue poking out he gives your inner thigh a soft lick, descending, savouring your sweet skin. Damp heat pools in your core, soft, quick pants leaving you when your lids start to feel heavy. Your knuckles turn white from how tightly you hold onto the pillows next to you, watching Azriel dip his head between your thighs. Azriel’s nose brushes against your still in undergarments covered core, adding just a light pressure that has you squirming.

The spymaster’s voice is a soft growl, the deep tenor rumbling through you when he says, "Lift your hips, beautiful." Azriel steadies you, helping you, and curls his fingers around the elastic, slowly peeling the undergarment off.

His desire stretches out, making it impossible for you to breathe when his heated gaze lands on the spot between your thighs. A low groan leaves Azriel, the sound so raw and primal it has you turning even more molten, your legs shaking slightly.

He leans into you and kisses your sex. You shudder, never having felt…anything like that.

The shadowsinger inhales deeply, the scent of your arousal beguiling. The strong tendons of his throat stand out when he clenches his jaw, his pupils dilating even more.

Azriel’s throat works on a swallow, his tongue feeling so thick all of a sudden when he says, "Ever been tasted before?"

The heated honey of his eyes meets yours, his need and desire laced into his features. You give your head a tiny shake, holding his gaze. His want, his need, his desire, it does something to you. To your heart. To your core. 

"Good," Azriel purrs and dips his head. He kisses your lower belly, tongue circling your navel, hands skimming over your thighs, before finally lifting them over his shoulders. "Perfect," he breaths, his mouth moving lower. Shadows softly travel up your body when Azriel parts you with his thumbs. It is the first stroke of his tongue, the first broad stroke through your silken folds up to the apex of your thighs, that has you squirming. Your back arches, your hips lift, pressing against his face when a lewd gasp leaves you. 

It is the firm grip of his scarred hands that places you back on the bed, that holds you tightly, that limits your movements. Azriel chuckles lowly, sending vibrations and hot air right into your core. You squirm against him and the shadowsinger tips his head back only an inch. “Sshh,” he cooes, grinning, his lips glistening. “Relax and let me worship you probably. Let me devour you, beautiful.” You get no chance to answer, his head dips again, his tongue poking out and he flicks it against your clit. And then he feasts, his tongue driving deep into. He licks and suckles, holding you firmly, the sounds that leave his mouth feeling like a sin in your ears. Azriel is like a starved male, some primal need fully unleashed, his restraints gone. You wreathe underneath him, something in your lower body squeezing, your walls clenching. It feels so good, it feels…nearly overwhelming. Your eyes roll back and then your orgasm comes crashing in on you. Wave after of hot pleasure overflows you, washes you under. You come with a scream that is a mix of curses and his name. Azriel.

He lets you ride out your height, softly guiding you through it, his tongue and lips still sloppily licking and kissing your sex. Proud at his work and your absolutely disheveled state, Azriel flashes you a full toothy grin when he lifts his head, his face wet with your arousal, with your release. 

Having made you come one time is obviously not enough for the spymaster. Just seconds later you are fully underneath his tall figure. He has only given you a short glimpse at his marvellous body before climbing onto the bed and caging you beneath him.

 Azriel flicks his tongue over the hardened peak of your breast, marvelling at how you shudder underneath him. His lips close around your nipple, licking, suckling. 

“More?” Azriel breathes against your breast. Your hips give a little jerk, moving against Azriel who growls in approval, reveling into the feel of your skin against his. You sigh and dip your chin. 

“Words, sweetheart. Use your words.” 

The shadowsinger takes your nipple back into his mouth, suckling and tugging lightly. It has you squirming and making your unable to form a coherent sentence. 

“Yes, more. Please, don’t stop,” you almost whine, burying your hands in his silken strands. 

“Good girl,” Azriel drawls, pushing himself up on his hands and looking down at you. With something like a predatory gaze he watches you, marveling at the sight of your ruffled hair, the flushed cheeks, the need and desire in your eyes. All he can think is that you are stunning and fully his. 

“Let me make you feel good.” The shadowsinger pushes your thighs apart, settling between them. “I need you to be my good girl again. You want that, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe. His hand reaches down between your bodies and he adjusts himself between your thighs. He lets the tip of his hard cock slide into you. It has you both gasping. Both of you look down at where you are connected. Azriel’s lips part in a silent hiss. “Fucking hell.” He carefully slides further into you, letting you adjust, but at the same time making you feel every glorious inch of his proud length. He leans in, softly brushing his lips against yours. “Tell me if I hurt you. Tell me when you want me to stop.”

Your hands find its place in the hair at the back of his neck the moment your lips close over his. “I will,” you whisper, “but it is perfect.”

Azriel’s lips curl against yours when he moves in to the hilt, stilling inside of you. You angle your hips, gasping at the sudden spark of pleasure when his tip touches one special spot inside of you. “Move, please,” you breathe and Azriel captures your lips, slowly pulling out of you.

He kisses you softly, one hand moving over your lower belly, gently adding pressure. You pull your legs up, curling them around his waist and moan at the feeling of it. Gods, this is perfect. This whole situation is pure satisfaction. And gods, you can enjoy it. It feels good. It is good. 

The shadowsinger has you pinned beneath him, his tall body, covered in a thin film of sweat, hovering above you, him moving inside of you, filling you so perfectly.

He lets go of his restraints, his thrusts turning deeper, harder. He pounds into you, always making sure you feel good and that you enjoy what he is doing. 

“Tell me how good you feel,” Azriel whispers when his lips close over your ear lob and he gives you a tiny bite. Azriel knows he is good at what he is doing. And this confidence, gods, it turns you on. You love it when he is like that, cocky and confident. “So good,” you breathe through gritted teeth, your head thrown back, your eyes squeezed closed, his hips slapping against yours. The sounds are wet, your high-pitched moans and pants the only things that are louder. 

Azriel regards you, your figure, how beautiful you look underneath him, with him inside you. And he feels you getting closer, you clench around him and that feeling, gods! It brings himself closer and closer to edge as well. 

The spymaster decreases his pace, slowly, steadily moving in and out of you. His thrusts are long and coordinated now. A lewd sob parts your lips, your eyes only opening for a split second. Calluses scrape over your soft skin when Azriel’s hand slides up your body, cradling your face. He lowers his forehead to yours, exhaling warm air that feels like a summer breeze against your skin.

"You" -thrust- "are" -thrust- "so perfect."

Your back arches, pressing against the solid body of your lover, your mouths meeting in a sloppy brush of tongues, and lips. Azriel’s stomach flexes, cock twitching and balls tightening. He knows he his close, wants you to come with him. 

Azriel nips at your jaw, his thumb circling your clit, rubbing, adding extra pleasure that brings you closer to edge. You clench around him, rocking against him when a lewd cry breaks through the noises of your panting and moaning.

"Gods," you pant. "I am close, Azriel."

He doesn’t want to make you beg, does not want to torture you, edge you. He wants you to come, to fully enjoy this moment.

"Let go, angel," Azriel says and angels his hips differently to hit that damnable spot inside of you with each thrust.

Your pants come out quicker, your moans turning a pitch higher. You claw at his shoulders, flecks of white and black sparking in your vision when your eyes roll back. 

 You come simultaneously, a loud sob leaving you when a tidal wave of satisfaction washes over you. The shadowsinger trembles above you, his warm release spurting against your walls, his forehead dropping to yours. Your hips rock against each other with sloppy thrusts, riding out your heights together. 

After easing out of you, Azriel collects a wet cloth for you to clean up. He kisses your forehead, his clothed hand carefully sliding between your thighs and over your lower belly. You are still in a blissful steady, knees feeling wobbly, legs numb. Soft pants leave you while your eyes follow your lover until he disappears into the bathroom. You fold a hand over your forehead, grinning to yourself and exhaling loudly. Gods! Love making was good, was enjoyable, was something you wanted more of. And you were were also a tiny bit relieved—there was nothing wrong about you. It was not your fault that you did not enjoy the times before. 

Getting back into bed, Azriel brings you close to his body, wings stretched behind his broad shoulders. You rest your head on his chest, hand placed right above his heart. 

Azriel brings your leg over his hips, holding your thigh tightly. “Could I convince you that sex is not so bad?”

You wiggle your head, mischief glinting in your eyes when you met his gaze. “I believe I definitely need some more convincing.” Azriel’s whole-hearted laugh is like balm to your soul. He cradles you to his body, kissing the top of your head, smiling. “I love you and don’t worry,” Azriel mumbles into your hair, giving your rear a soft smack. “You will get a lot more.”

Feedback and critics are always welcome, as I still try to improve my writing. Please let me know what you think 💙

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tag list (crossed-out I couldn't tag):

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[moonyasnow]

Dancing in the Dark.

PROMPT : Dancing in the dark with him

CHARACTER(S) : Idia

TYPE : short fic (~1.3k words)

CONTENT: nerd references ahoy, Reader implied to be shorter than 180cm, Apparently the Phantom Bride event takes place after Book 6 in this one

After such a close brush with death, even knowing you'd made it in time and he was safe, you still felt anxious not being able to see Idia in the dining-hall turned Wedding venue as the band started up a song meant for dance.

With the newlyweds twirling happily in the air behind you, you ventured out into the dark halls of NRC to find him...

Idia had never breathed a bigger sigh of relief in his life…he'd just been saved from a 100% certain one-hit-kill spell, with barely seconds to spare. Talk about clutch.

The bride got her groom and her happily ever after, sure, yay, whatever— he was just glad it wasn't him. At least this groom wouldn't be on the literal chopping block. He'd already done that 500 years earlier, after all.

…But Idia was still stuck in those fancy duds. Even if the other guys said he looked cool or whatevs he just couldn't see it.

He wandered out of the party as quick as he could, untying his hair to let it flow free and cloak him once more. In every mirror he passed all he saw was fire, sharp teeth, and glowing yellow eyes— accentuated by deep eyebags too. He wasn't generic-looking enough to be an NPC, but not cool enough to be the MC either. Was he the villain, then? He stopped to gaze at the pool-like surface of a mirror in the dark hallway. Sounded cooler than NPC, at least… But he doubted he was that cool. He was probs the throwaway 2nd villain in some tactical JRPG— not remembered as fondly as the introductory first boss, not as interesting as the 3d or those that followed. For every second that passed his scowl deepened in the mirror to match his thoughts.

'Healthy, lustrous skin, lidded eyes, a charming smile…'

LOLOLOLOL Eliza was INSANE if she thought ANY of that applied to him.

The smile he'd forced his face into looked all kinds of wrong in his eyes.

He sighed. Then he heard footsteps and his pulse sped up to what he knew Ortho would call 'very unhealthy levels for only having someone walk past him'.

Standing in the dark corner on the hallway with his hair acting like a glow-in-the-dark lamp, he, and his mortified expression, weren't that hard to spot. He didn't need to be able to see your face to know you were probably smiling. 'Because I look like the free clothing option in those normie cash-grab phone ""VNs""' he thought. But he knew from experience that wasn't the case when it came to you. You were even weirder than him, fwee-hee-hee… Ah, and now he was remembering how you'd stared at him the first time you heard his laugh, how he was expecting you to make fun of him but you just called his laugh 'nice'… And now his hair had started turning pink.

Great. /s

“I wondered where you went.” He was never gonna admit the sound of your voice made his heart race a little. There was a reason he always asked Ortho to leave the two of you alone when you hung out. If you really did find out he thinks he could just die on the spot.

"Away from the party, DUH." He rolled his eyes. You laughed at that. "Ha-ha, go ahead; laugh at my misery."

"No, no, it's just…it's so very like you."

"Uh…yyyup. Shut-in's gonna shut-in." He rubbed at his arm awkwardly. Yet even in the dark you recognized the small smile adorning his face.

You loved that expression of his…you could simply stare at it for hours. Yet you knew if you were to ever tell him that, he might stop talking to you for a week out of sheer inability to handle it. So for as much as you would love to compliment him— felt the urge tugging at you at every second you were with him— you refrained.

"You…you're beautiful…"

…Except for now, apparently. You quickly slapped your hand over your mouth. "I-I'm sorry!" The look on his face was like a cat sadly watching you take away its food bowl. "Not that I didn't mean it! I did!" There came another flare at the tips of his hair, coloring a deeper shade of pink. "I just…I know compliments can be difficult for you, and I—"

"N—np…" his flushed face begged to differ.

Silence filled the space between you. He thought it was awkward as all hell. You found it comforting, using it to work up the courage to ask him what you'd set out to.

"They're dancing right now, in the wedding hall. And I was wondering if…"

"No thanks— I do NOT want some rando to know how sweaty my hands are. I'd just step on their toes anyway."

"Oh, that's..." your face fell in disappointment.

[ Idia.exe is loading... ]

...

WAIT WAIT WAIT THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU MEANT HOLD ON ABORT, ABORT—

"I—" he could feel himself choking, words refusing to unclog from his throat. Here you were, his crush, his #1 Oshi if you will, and you wanted to dance. With HIM. EVEN AFTER HE MENTIONED HIS SWEATY PALMS (Sevens whyyyyyy did he do that)

"…If you don't want to I—"

He suddenly regretted he'd never clicked on those random dance videos he sometimes got recommended. And not taking Ortho's advice of playing one of those dancing games 'for his health'.

"I-I'd just suck at it— I'd moodkill. Big time."

"I don't mind. I'm not a very good dancer either…I've actually never done it before. So if anything, we'd both suck.” you said, cheeks flushed a gentle red he could just barely make out in the darkness.

He considered pretending he didn't see it for a moment; couldn't let himself get his hopes up.

This was probably just some prank, and the second he said 'sure' a laugh-track was gonna start playing and someone was gonna pop out and laugh and put an arm around his shoulder and gesture to some hidden camera somewhere—

"Idia?"

He'd been so stuck in his thoughts he hadn't even noticed you trying to talk to him. And now you'd gotten closer to him. WAY TOO CLOSE—

"EEP!"

All those things Eliza had said: "Bright, shimmering hair! Lips so arresting that you just have to kiss them!"

They'd be much more fitting applied to you, and not him. If it wasn't for the whole '180cm' requirement thing, he can't imagine you NOT being the one picked. It should've been you. Not because he wanted you gone or anything, obvs! You were just…out of this world kinda beautiful.

Out of his league, too.

Obvs.

That of course someone else was gonna come steal you away eventually, so why even hope? Why even try—

"It will always be a zero-percent chance as long as you believe it impossible and refuse to act."

Those words tore at the flesh of his chest like a word knife in that high-school murder trial game franchise he liked. Why were they showing up in his head now, like some kind of cutscene? This was sounding like that part in the 3d act where the hero's been demoralized and remembers the words of their fallen mentor to give them enough motivation to go in and K.O. the BBEG.

"S-so…" you said, nervously looking up at him through your lashes. "Do you want to dance with me?" your voice sounded so shaky, devoid of your usual confidence. You sounded almost scared. Kinda like him. (was this what he always looked like through other people's eyes?)

Maybe... Maybe it was ok to listen to that advice. Just this once. Just a tiny bit.

"S-sure..."

Awkwardly, he held his hand out. And you smiled.

He didn't think he was LI material, probably never would. But maybe, rather than cursing his luck at being an NPC in whatever Otome that had you as the MC, he'd celebrate his luck at being able to dance with you like this in spite of it.

He had you in his arms, and he could barely believe it was real, waiting for it to be revealed as just a dream-sequence. But somehow it was real. His palms were sweaty and his expression twisted in panic as he tried not to step on your toes and he probably looked like the worst 'suitor' ever.

But you were smiling, still holding his sweaty hand, and that blush was somehow still on your cheeks.

If this was just the preview of what his route, or life, rather, might look like were he to break free from the 'non-romancable NPC' category…

He better get to re-coding the game.

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

EDIT: just so everyone who reads this is aware, I do in fact take writing requests!

I'm testing out a new format This isn't exactly a 'headcanon' as much as it's literally just a short-fic

Publishing this as a bit of an experiment If people like it, maybe that'll finally convince my perfectionist brain that not every single thing I write has to be perfect according to my own, almost impossible-to-reach standards I set for my own writing

My friend told me the skull I used for Idia's partition gives "14 year old edgy COD kid vibes" It's perfect.

Also damn writing Idia is so fun. Including all his references is SO FUN. I get to pretend to be an extremely terminally online reddit gaming subreddit guy who hasn't touched grass or spoken to a real person in years, who bases his beliefs of how real life works off of anime. He is SO CRINGE (affectionate) and I LOVE HIM FOR IT.

[bellswlw]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ in the morning ⇨ e. williams

ellie williams x afab!reader

wc: 1.2k

masterlist

summary: as the sun begins to rise, Ellie's hands begin to set lower and lower under the elastic of your underwear until she wakes you completely.

cw: fingering (r!receiving), soft orgasm (r!receiving), kinda top!ellie, fluff and so much touching.

a/n: this was supposed to be like 500 words and is totallyyyyyy not based on any real thing totallyyy 100% fiction….. hope u like it gn! not proofread.

It's 7 am.

The sun has slowly begun to creep up from behind your window, leaving a blinding haze the moment you crack your eyes open and shift against Ellie in your too small of a bed.

she mumbled something against your neck, her head snuggled deep within it before kissing it once.

Her hands were warm on your stomach, hugging you from behind and under the covers you were sharing.

It was below freezing in the room, and even with Ellie's body pressed against you, you shivered when your foot was exposed for too long and you had pulled it back under; touching your leg in the process.

You groggily took a hand from its stiff position under your chin and clasped it with hers. A warm hum vibrated against your skin when Ellie realized what you'd done.

A smile quickly forms onto your lips just before it fades to a slouched line, your breathing falling even as you drift off.

Sometime around 8, the sun has risen further in the sky bringing its shine into your room and heating the top of your head.

"'s so bright," you murmur into Ellie's chest now, nuzzling yourself as close to her as you could to avert the sudden warmth of your scalp the sun had brought. Ellie didn't mind though, the warmth felt nice under her chin.

She didn't say anything that you could understand, just slouched an arm over you, drawing you closer while one leg draped over you pulled the back of your bare thigh closer to her.

You only had a shirt and underwear on. Her as well, although she was in a white tank top and boxers. A slight difference.

She whispered something to you, inaudible at first, but you felt her chin move above you so she must have said something.

"Hm?" you croak, your grip tightening against Ellie's waist, nearly begging to bring her in closer to you. So close that your bodies mend as one, the blistering sun beating in through the window hot enough to do the job easily.

“‘nna feel,” she says again, but the only word you can make out is feel, so you ask her through a whisper to repeat herself one more time.

She clears her throat before she speaks again, and her hand rounds over the shape of your ass, softly letting her fingers graze over the cotton before she gives it a lazy squeeze. "You." is all she says now. And you feel your voice squeak a response.

"Yeah," you say before you mindlessly slot a knee between hers.

The sound of Ellie's heart begins to bold in your ear, its soft and steady beat quickly picking up into a strand of dun dun dun's that make you slowly reel your hand back from around her stomach and place it against her chest, almost as if to soothe it. The sound draws your back, far enough into the mattress that you’re asleep again, just like that.

And it's around 9 that the sun has fully risen, completing its cycle just moments before you let a small gasp slip through your lungs as you feel Ellie's hand slowly creep below the band of your underwear.

You hum against her, her warm skin striking a match against yours when the pad of her two fingers swarm your clit with dizzying circles. They're slow, but effective. Causing you to breathe deep and absentmindedly start to spread your legs for her.

Ellie's right hand continues to move against you before she feels your leg rest against her knee, and silently ushering to let it fall wider she opens her own and pins yours between both of hers.

You let out a sleepy moan, slowly beginning to feel the slick that is starting to form between your legs. Ellie does too because just a moment later, she lets her hand fall flat against you and collects some before dragging it up your folds to tell you you're already so fucking wet.

Ellie's fingers find their place against your clit, beginning to swipe back and forth quick enough to knock all the shallow breaths you had just begun collecting and try to grip onto the fitted sheet of your bed.

Her fingers grazed over and over and over that burning nub, picking up her pace before kissing your neck that had lit itself on fire with her touch. Like you were a piece of paper, so fucking fragile and catching ablaze with the flicker of a lighter.

Your hands are desperate, trying to reach for any part of ellie you can grasp. Her hip catches your fingers first, then resting against the fabric of her boxers that are bunched into your fist as she continues swiping against you.

The moan floats from your lips before you're ready, and the wetness floods through you as Ellie suddenly realizes too, her fingers easily slipping through your drenched folds and curling just at the right angle to drive your eyes open. She's already staring at you.

Your breath hitches when she pumps quicker, sending a hot thrill through your spine and up your throat with a series of shallow breaths that echo in her ears like a song. Her favorite melody.

"Ellie," you breathe, and she silences you with the soft feeling of her lips on yours.

"Shh." she whispers against you, and your eyes hood with the dizzying sight of hers. The emerald green and small hue of hazel that ringed her pupil.

A soft fuck, muttered from your lips a moment later when her hand had shifted against you again and collected more of you in her hands, letting it slide down her fingers and pool against the top of your cunt.

Ellie's slender fingers are musical- striking chord after chord of moans out of you that resemble her favorite song, your voice soaking into her brain like a catchy chorus that is bound to stick around on the inside walls of her head until she can hear it again.

And when she does, there's a click inside that reminds her this is it. You know this sound well.

And she does, oh she does. Because it's not long after that your eyes are clenching closed and your breathing falls heavy with every quick swipe against your clit, rolling you over that edge of an orgasm until you're clenching around nothing and murmuring Ellie's name like it's your own.

"Ellie, Ellie, Ellie."

And she places a piece of hair that has fallen in front of your face back behind your ear and lets her hand linger there until you grab a hold of her wrist to help you come down from your dreamy high.

"I got you," she says, and her voice is so soft, coating you in goosebumps the second it relishes in your ears.

God, she was so good to you.

"That's it," she hums. And her pace begins to slow, meeting you with the rise and fall of your chest as you fall further and further.

One last moan exercises out of you, leaving you to quickly realize what just happened.

And realizing how much you were sweating. the back of your legs were coated along with your chest and exposed collarbone, and you quickly began to cook from the inside out- you needed to cool off.

"Let's take a shower," you whisper, looking up at Ellie who had the same love struck grin plastered across her face that you did.

She nodded once, and then planted a sloppy kiss on your cheek before you broke into a low fit of giggles.

[lilacfiresoul]

cheat, april 2 -- @jegulus-microfic -- 1,144 words

kind of went a little over here lol because this was so fun to write! anyways, enjoy <3

-----

“That’ll be 850, please,” Regulus says smugly.

Lily, rolling her eyes, reluctantly hands over a sheaf of brightly coloured Monopoly money. “And now I’m basically broke. Regulus takes my money yet again.”

Glancing over at his boyfriend, James watches Regulus add the notes to his bank, all of them arranged neatly from highest to lowest in a line next to his properties. They’re already quite far into the game, with several houses on the board and the odd few hotels, mainly on Regulus’ properties. He’s the banker, and James is unsure if that’s the reason for his success, or if he’s genuinely just a good player.

Sirius seems to think the former, as he angrily tosses the dice onto the board and lands, surprise, surprise, on one of Regulus’ properties. Again.

“No!” he howls, slapping his hands on his forehead, earning a bemused look from Remus. “I swear he’s rigged the dice!”

“Sirius, how I can rig dice?” Regulus responds brusquely. “That’s 330.”

“Lily, you shouldn’t have let him be the banker,” Sirius accuses, glaring at Lily. “Whenever he’s the banker, I lose!”

James leans over to Regulus, resting his arm on the back of the chair, mumbling, “Sirius seems to think you’re a cheat, Reg.”

“He’s just a sore loser,” Regulus informs him matter-of-factly. “Every time I’m the banker, he says—”

“—It’s bad luck, Lily, he rigs it—”

“That I’m a liar,” Regulus begins.

“He lies, he schemes, he plots, he—”

“—Plans.” Regulus nods. Sirius flashes him an irritated look, but Regulus doesn’t even sound upset about it, just amused, as if he’s heard all of this before. His fingers are laced together in front of him, a businessman about to suggest a proposal. “You need to get more creative at your insults, Sirius.”

“Oh, shut up,” his brother growls, flinging the money at Regulus in a shower of coloured paper.

James can’t help chuckling, leading to Sirius narrowing his eyes at him. Caught, James drops his arm, straightening in his seat.

“I see how it is,” Sirius announces. “James is helping him.”

There’s a beat, and Regulus laughs. “I don’t need help. I build my Monopoly empire with my own blood, sweat, and tears.”

The game continues. Sirius stews in silence as Remus rolls the dice, missing Regulus’ properties completely and landing safe on an unclaimed plant. Then Mary rolls, grinning as she gives Lily 100.

“I don’t mind giving you my money,” she tells Lily, who swoons.

Regulus goes, where he lands on one of Sirius’ properties. He has to hand over 200 through gritted teeth, like it pains him to part with his fake money, much to Sirius’ delight.

And then it’s James’ turn.

It honestly couldn’t have worked out better. James rolls six, putting his figurine right on one of Regulus’ properties.

With a hotel.

“Ha!” Sirius crows, jabbing a finger at it.

Defeatedly, James asks Regulus, “How much do I owe you?”

Regulus looks at his cards, though James and everyone else at the table knows Regulus is doing it just for show, pretending as if he doesn’t know exactly how much James owes him.

“1150.”

Even though he’s played Monopoly so many times, James has never won at it. One time a few years ago, he’d played with his parents and Regulus. It had gone on for hours, and both him and Effie had lost, leaving it a tense battle between Regulus and Fleamont. James’ dad had won by the skin of his teeth, and has never let Regulus live it down.

James can’t help comparing that time to now, how he only has 500 left, majorly under the rent due, and how the same thing had happened last time. Regulus had let him lose then, hellbent on beating Fleamont, but now he has a mischievous gleam in his eye as James presents him with the last of his money.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Regulus continues. “It’s a hotel. I’ll let you stay there for free, if you give me a kiss to make up for it.”

“What?” Sirius explodes. “That’s not— You can’t do that— Lily—”

Lily holds up her hands. “It’s just my game, I can’t control what he does.”

Scrabbling for the box, Sirius finds the rulebook and flicks it open. “It’s against the rules.”

“I’m the banker.”

“That means nothing—”

Remus and Mary are silently laughing behind their hands, tears in Mary’s eyes as she tries to keep quiet. Lily’s eyes dart between the two of them, pressing her lips together.

“Are you calling my boyfriend a cheat, Sirius?” James asks innocently. “I don’t think it’s in the rulebook.”

“He’s also my bloody brother, James—”

“It’s not in the book,” Remus confirms.

A charged silence falls over the table. Regulus, grinning, hooks a finger under James’ chin to tug him closer. Entranced, James follows, like a dog with a bone, the tide to the moon, the planets to the sun.

The kiss is chaste, sweet, as people are watching, but underneath the table, Regulus squeezes James’ thigh, the promise of more to come later.

They part, and it’s an effort for James not to grab him by the neck and kiss him senseless, but he refrains, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering at the wink Regulus sends his way.

“Cheaters,” Sirius huffs. “Thought you did this alone, Reggie. If you’re doing that, I’m also doing it.”

“Be my guest. You don’t have to hotel yet,” Regulus quips.

The game continues for another few rounds. Mary goes out first, after divvying out her savings to Sirius, of all people. Remus goes out second, unable to pay his debt to Regulus. Lily is soon to follow, tossing her leftover bits of money to Regulus as well. Sirius is the fourth out, coming dangerously close to flipping the board as he also hands all of his money over to Regulus.

It’s just him and James left.

And James, in a cruel, or rather predictable, twist of fate, lands on one of Regulus’ properties. Again.

It’s laughable, honestly.

Sirius puts his head in his hands and wails because his brother has won. Mary, bursting into laughter again, excuses herself to get a glass of wine, and Lily and Remus try to smother their laughter at Sirius’ dramatic reaction.

“You going to steal all of my money?” James whispers. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

“Don’t need to. I’ve already won anyway.”

Regulus kisses him again, and Sirius, mumbling something about cheaters, best friends kissing brothers, and how shitty this game is, flips the Monopoly board.

[hgejfmw-hgejhsf]

Whump Wednesday

So as most of you know, words have...not been coming easily for me lately. In fact, words have not been coming at all lately. There's some stuff I've been dealing with offline that has contributed to my muse's disappearance, and truth be told, I've been a bit afraid of writing, thinking that perhaps my muse has up and gone forever and I just simply will never write again.

But then @thinkof-england shared with me her idea of taking on Whump Wednesday via a virtual spinning wheel, and she encouraged me to give it a shot with her, as perhaps just an exercise in getting back to writing again. So tonight, for the first time, we allowed the wheel to guide us...and the prompt we received was TW: amputation. What the hell was I meant to do with that, as my FIRST WHUMP PROMPT out of the gate?!

I said, "I'm going to try to just do a drabble. Just 100 words, that's all, no big thing. Surely the muse can make that happen." And then once the idea came, she managed a staggering 500 words. I have NO idea if these words are good or not, but they are mine, and they're 500 words more than I had when I woke up this morning. So behind the cut you'll find a small pentadrabble zombie FirstPrince AU featuring TW: blood, pain, mention of zombies, and implied amputation without anesthesia or proper medical care.

Please be kind. If this doesn't sound like your thing, please keep scrolling right on by. It won't hurt me in the slightest. What will hurt me are unkind words.

A strangled cry rips itself free of Henry’s lungs as Cash carries him inside the farmhouse and places him gently on the couch. Despite the proof of his immense pain dripping from his golden hair and written in every tense, taut line of his face, he buries the sleeve of his shirt into his mouth to stifle the sound. Ever their protector.

Alex produces a knife and cuts away the blood-soaked denim concealing his twisted and torn skin. Jagged holes from the rotting teeth of the undead fucker that attacked his husband continue to pour blood, already beginning to soak the floral fabric on the couch where he and Henry had once made love, long after everyone else had fallen asleep upstairs. Alex can still hear the soft laughter ringing out in the dead of night from Henry’s parted pink lips when he teasingly asked if they needed to seek out one of those ancient plastic covers. He blanches at the thought now.

But it’s the draining of blood from beneath Henry’s already pale skin that comes back into sharp focus as the hulking shadow that can only be Cash reappears over his shoulder. Alex, having no idea he’d left at all, turns to find a handsaw, a belt, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol bundled in Cash’s arms. His lips are a thin line as he kneels by the couch and rolls up his sleeves, until Alex stills his motions with a hand over his.

“I’ll do it,” Alex says softly, his voice a weak croak of a sound. He coughs, as if something as simple as the pollen count could be responsible for the paralysis of his vocal cords. He turns to Henry, then, whose blue eyes are bright with fear and pain and knowing, always just a step ahead of Alex despite his perpetual attempts at running as far ahead as he can into the future, to prepare a way for them. Henry’s never had to run. He’s always simply gazed up at the night sky in silence, as if the great hunter in the heavens is whispering and he’s the only one who can hear. Or perhaps it isn’t Orion at all, but a guardian angel.

Why then, Alex wonders, if Henry’s gift is knowledge, and if there’s some all-knowing being keeping watch over him from just beyond the stars, could something like this be happening to him?

“I trust you,” Henry says, his teeth clenched tight as he places a blood-soaked hand over Alex’s to still a trembling he hadn’t yet noticed. Henry’s golden wedding band glimmers in the dusk of another dying day, surprisingly free of the scarlet liquid still flowing freely from his wounded leg.

Alex’s lungs refuse to inflate when he draws air into them, and the minute contents of his stomach churn with the task he’s about to face, but he secures the belt tightly just above the wound, rests one hand on Henry’s knee for stability and support, and begins.

[lovergirly]

the love languages (wednesdays version)

hi my loves! i’m sorry i haven’t been here, i’ve been horribly busy the past couple days. i met the love of my life over break and i’m trying to start a relationship with them so fingers crossed 🤞🏻

this isn’t a request, but feel free to leave me some! <33

they say there are five different ways to display your love to a person. love languages. conventional couples constantly love showering each other with affection and giving each other flowers or go to the drive in for dates. wednesday was the opposite of conventional. she finds it hard to believe she was even capable of loving someone, let alone be able to let herself be vulnerable around someone. even her girlfriend she struggles with showing affections to. her girlfriend however was able to see every single love language wednesday provides for her.

1. words of affirmation

waking up was always the hardest part of your day. who was sadistic enough to make teenagers wake up at 6 in the morning everyday?

“mi amor it’s time to wake up.”

of course your macabre girlfriend enjoyed this torture. you don’t answer her and instead groan into your pillow. unknown to you she rolls her eyes and starts to open your curtains. this doesn’t give her the reaction she wanted as you only hide more into your blankets.

“y/n we have school and i can’t be having you late. get up, my love.” you still don’t move and now wednesday is getting annoyed. “cara mia, if you don’t get up i’ll deny you your kisses for the rest of the day.”

knowing she was 100% serious with that threat, you slowly force yourself out of bed causing your perfectly dressed and composed girlfriend to smile, “you look absolutely miserable.”

“thank you, i am.”

“well even while miserable you look absolutely breathtaking mi amor.”

2. acts of service

after getting ready for your day, you and wednesday had to seperate and go to your classes. the only problem is these kids have been teasing you. a group of three girls tried to start a rumor about you and nearly tripped you just in this period alone. finally after they “accidentally” spilt their drink on you, you run out of the classroom only to see wednesday standing right there with a bag of muffins she got for you. she saw you nearly sprinting out with tears in your eyes and a group of girls all watching you and laughing. she realized she either had the option to kill then now or go check on you and kill them later. knowing you’re worth more than those imbeciles were, she ran after you to see you sitting with your knees to your chest crying in a random corner. she saw how vulnerable you looked, and wished she could take away your pain just as fast as those girls inflicted it.

“querida mia, what happened?”

“wednesday those girls are just awful! they tried to make up a rumor about me and they’re just so mean.” you stuttered while sobbing. her heart broke for you. just because she had thick skin and can easily take down a bully doesn’t mean she knows you get too overwhelmed to defend yourself in situations like this.

“y/n don’t let them get to you. they’re a bunch of clowns who are jealous of what you have.”

“what do i have that they don’t?”

“me. the love and adoration i try to provide for you.” she simple walks away after that and unbeknownst to you, is planning a way to get back at those intolerable girls. it wasn’t until the next day when you saw how your girlfriend sent thing to cut giant chunks out of all the girls’ hair and a horrified expression when they see you with your beloved.

3. gifts

wednesday comes from a rich family. it wasn’t a shock. she was a trust fund kid and often asked her parents to take out money to get you some lavish presents. you weren’t used to the high class lifestyle she had, so she made sure to buy to the most luxurious items. you like that jacket? it’s yours. it’s $500? that’s not too bad, she thought it would’ve been at least $2000. wednesday wouldn’t say she’s carelessly throwing away money, even if your closet had got restocked by her. she just enjoyed the look on your face when you got the newest all black Balenciaga bag or the softest pair of pink pajamas money can buy. the presents you liked the most, however, were when she tried to be romantic with her gift giving.

one night, wednesday walks into your dorm with her hands behind her back.

“hello my love! i missed you so much.”

“i missed you as well y/n. i actually got you a present.” she pulls out two viles and a little needle.

“i want to show you that i am completely enthralled by you and wish to grow old with you until we both face our demise.” she goes to sit on your bed “i want to give you some of my blood that you can wear as a necklace. it’s supposed to represent the deepest trust and love i have for you. you of course don’t need to give me one, but i want to give you one.”

“oh my love of course i’ll give you one. will you do the honors of pricking my finger for me?”

with that you and wednesday spent the rest of the night making and presenting blood necklaces for each other.

 4. quality time

wednesday doesn’t believe in small talk. she thinks it’s a waste of time. she does enjoy a good conversation with you, but she doesn’t want to hear the little details about who said what last friday and why it’s so bad. her writing hour was her time. she frequently kicks enid out during that time because she needs to think and get inspiration. people don’t give her inspiration. she hates people. viper de la muerte hates people. well everyone except her girlfriend. vipers girlfriend who is a little too similar to you. how did she get the inspiration to creat vipers girlfriend? by making you stay in the room while she writes. the first time you stayed in the room it was a nuisance. you were with enid and laughing the full hour. it was torture, and not the kind she enjoys. now, she can’t write without you in the room. whether you’re just reading over her shoulder, she loves your critiques. even if it’s just a simple “i love your writing my love!” or “i like this part!” she needs those words to allow her creative mind to continue. she feels pathetic , relying on you to do something as simple as writing, but nothing makes her happier than seeing your face as you read her writing or give her shoulder rubs the second she finishes her writing hour. even if you’re not reading with her, just you in the room gives her a calm feeling. she loves when you’re both in her dorm alone, doing your own thing silently. it makes her feel like you’re already a married couple and the dorm room is simple your house.

5. physical touch

if wednesday hates one thing the most, it’s physical touch. the only people who can touch her without dying is her family, and even they barley can touch her without her pulling away. you might think you’re an expection, but wednesday addams doesn’t do cuddling. she hates it. not because she gets hot or anything at night. she just simply hates it. the only way you’ll even get her to consider cuddling with you is after constant begging. you literally have to get on your knees in front of her (which she liked more than she’d like to admit) just for her to put her arm around you in bed. she’ll never be caught dead being the little spoon. whether you’re her height or six feet tall, she’ll be the big spoon. she likes the feeling of protecting you at night. you’re her love, it’s her job to keep you safe.

and while wednesday would deny any of this as love and would never admit to “mellowing out”, the wednesday addams found a love. a love she can cherish and treat just as her father treats her mother. she wants to cherish you and protect you from the world in the only way she knows. the love language of an addams.

————————————————————————

i hope you guys enjoyed, i wrote this in one sitting so it might not be the best. i really want to make each of these little snippets it’s own story, but i’m not sure yet. definitely leave a like if you enjoyed though and leave more requests <33

[rendy-a]

I feel like looking at the 500 followers event Idia would bring back ptsd from ghost marriage event...

So, anyway! May I request In a self aware au reader asking Idia out for a dance, because they're low key anxious that he'll be stolen again (that little mf didn't show up after the 100th pull for me T-T)?

Thanks ahead!

~~~🌟🎃

That is so harsh when you miss out on the event SSR at the 100th pull!  It’s not yet happened to me, but I’ve been taken to 100 a few times. (Lilia twice!  That scamp!)  I’m just glad EN is getting the 200 pull guarantee before Glorious Masquerade!

The most interesting thing about this goodwill dance business was meeting students from other campuses.  You hadn’t felt that way in the beginning but, as they spent more time at NRC, you’d gotten used to seeing them around.  Once their bizarre attention toward you cooled off, you found it refreshing to interact with new people, especially the girls from Fair Maiden Academy.  There were just things you could talk about to girls that you’d never dare bring up to the guys.

“Ooh, you know what might be fun?” you begin saying to your new friends from FMA, “We could go over the courtyard at Pomefiore.  They have this well there that is perfect for shouting wishes into!”  Your friend Ace would have laughed right in your face had you said something sappy like that to him but the girls of FMA were another story.  “Really?  Oh my!  That does sound fun!” one of the girls exclaimed.  “I just love making wishes,” sighed another girl in a dreamy tone.  So, you accompanied the gaggle of girls to the wishing well to deliver your wishes to.

When you arrived, one particularly silly girl asked if you intended to make a wish.  “Oh, I don’t know…” you trailed off.  The girls gathered around and insisted that you were the only one who could properly demonstrate how to use the wishing well.  “Oh please, Prefect,” crooned the silly girl, “I think it would be so educational for us to see how YOU deliver your wish.”  Oh, you’d forgotten how intensely interested people were in you, what you thought and what you did.  “Ah, I guess so,” you awkwardly replied with a hand on your head.  So, you approached the well and made whatever nonsense wish came to mind, “I wish Grim would remember to brush his teeth after eating stinky foods.” 

It was a foolish wish, but all your new friends nodded and said what a wise and useful wish it was.  “Oh,” said the silly girl, “I wish I could make such a sensible wish, but I know I’ll just end up spoiling mine on frivolous things like True Love!”  You shake your head with an exasperated smile, “There is nothing wrong with True Love.  In fact, I think that is a perfectly nice wish.”  You yourself had enjoyed a daydream or two since you’d arrived in TWST.  How could you not when it was inhabited by boys handsome enough to be characters in a game.  There were times when you felt like getting closer to one or another, but you always held it in.  After all, you were a player of a game, and they were game characters; the whole thing was just strange.  That didn’t stop you from enjoying a look now and again.

Emboldened by your support, the silly girl went up to the well and made her wish for true love.  “I wish, for the one I love, to find me today.”  You smiled kindly at the girl and gestured for her to step back only… “And!  And!  …I want him to be at least 180 cm tall with an air of nonchalance!  Ohh, oh!  And healthy and lustrous skin, you know?  He’d look at me with those lidded eyes and give a charming smile.  I’d be mesmerized by his bright and shimmering hair before being captivated by his lips, so arresting that you just have to kiss them!  From head to toe, the Perfect Prince!”  Then she backs away from the well, holds both hands to her chest and makes a screaming sound you could only label as a squeal.  It was rather shocking.

“Ooookay,” you trail off with a wide-eyed stare.  That was a little much for you but no one else seemed particularly bothered by it.  The other girls took their turn whispering their wishes into the well and hearing their dearest dreams echo back to them.  You smiled at each of them as they wished but truly you were distracted.  Something about this whole thing was itching at the back of your mind.  It felt like you were overlooking something important.  It was an unsettling feeling that caused you to beg off on your friends when the wishing was done.  You left to walk home alone and think about what you had missed.

You arrived back home at Ramshackle dorm and entered the foyer.  You shrugged off your jacket and took off your shoes.  When you pass into the living room, a voice greets you from above.  “Hi guys,” you smile up at the floating inhabitants of the dorm.  You plopped down on the sofa and spaced out.  Something about this felt familiar.  You, Ramshackle, ghosts…YOU, RAMSHACKLE AND GHOSTS!  How could you have forgotten the Ghost Bride?  She burst onto campus and declared Idia of all people was her perfect prince.  She had a long list of ridiculous requirements he supposedly met, and those requirements reminded you unsettlingly of the wish your silly friend from FMA had made. 

It was just a coincidence, right?  That couldn’t happen again, could it?  You pictured Idia at the dance being cornered by a crazed extroverted girl shouting and squealing about her perfect prince.  It was an unsettling idea.  Idia would freak out and his hair would go crazy; everyone would stare, and it would only get worse.  What sort of impression of NRC would that leave?  Plus, you’d hate to admit it, but you were sort of fond of the shy dorm leader of Ignihyde.  Fine, you would just have to play the knight and rescue this unusual ‘damsel in distress.’ 

Your plan was simple, you’d find Idia and keep him away from the girls of FMA.  It shouldn’t be hard with the way Idia would avoid crowds.  Maybe he wouldn’t even be here tonight, you think as you scan over the ballroom venue.  The gardens were lovely and the magically created dance floor the Third-Years made was glowing in the moonlight.  But that wasn’t the only thing glowing.  There was a blue glow coming from a distant alcove and it appeared you weren’t the only one who’d noticed.  “Wow, your hair is so bright,” the silly girl from FMA said moving deeper into an alcove hidden from your view.  “I insist on a dance!” you shout as you run over, pushing past the FMA girl.  When you round the corner though, you are stopped in your tracks as you see Ortho floating in the alcove.  “Oh,” you stammer lamely, “I thought you were Idia.” 

Ortho looks at you happily and exclaims, “You were looking for my brother, Prefect?  He’ll be so happy!  He is quite the fan!”  The confused FMA academy girl just looks on with a little smile, “What now?”  You laugh and wave your hand in front of your face, “Ah, it was just a misunderstanding.”  The girl smiles and gestures to Ortho, “I found my prince!  He’s a little young but I’ve waited this long!”  Then with a smile she turns back to Ortho and swings him around in a simple dance step.  You embarrassingly hurry away but by the time you reach the end of the alcove, a voice reaches you, “He is in his room, Prefect.  He couldn’t make himself come.  I think he’d like it if you’d visit him though.  He was looking forward to seeing you in your formal wear.  He said he had to get a glimpse of a rare event costume if it was the last thing he did.”

You left the alcove and smiled politely at those watching you exit with interest.  Everyone seemed to want a piece of your attention tonight.  The disappointed looks when you turned down a dance or offer of a drink tugged on your conscience, but you really didn’t feel like risking some event trigger in the middle of this huge dance.  The last thing you need is to start some random isekai event like ‘I met the crown prince at the party’ or whatever.  Avoiding everyone was causing you such stress though, that you suddenly realized that you’d rather just leave early.  So, you quietly back around a corner and slide through a door into a classroom hallway.  Once out of view, you took off running toward main street and away from the trials of Crowley’s party.  At the end of Main Street, you passed the mirror chamber.  Here you hesitate, inside was a path that would take you to Ignihyde, if you choose.  You had no obligation to go, and you were tired, yet you still found your gaze locked on the doorway.  You laugh to yourself, ‘Well, here it is, the time to make a route decision, after all.’

You knocked on the door but there was no answer.  Of course, there wasn’t an answer. This was Idia, he wasn’t about to answer the door.  You tried the knob and surprisingly the door opened.  Inside, Idia was playing a dancing rhythm game with a set of headphones on.  He was so focused on the game that you were able to take several steps inside the room before he noticed you.  When he did, he quickly flung off the headphones and seemed to cower in on himself, “Ahhhk!”  You look at him curiously, waiting for him to ask why you were there or order you to leave his room, but he doesn’t say anything.  Finally, you tilt your head towards the screen, “I love this game.  May I have the next dance?”  He still did not speak but the expression he makes causes you to think, ‘That silly FMA girl was right, he does have a charming smile.’

Idia felt like he’d passed the night in a dream.  He hadn’t needed to attend that awful extrovert torture they called a dance and he’d gotten to see the rare Player Formalwear in person.  Not only that but he’d had a dance (several even!) with the Player.  He felt like this dream would end come morning, so he had to make the most of this magical night.  “Th.there is another game I like.  We..we could play it…IF YOU WANT!”  You looked at him encouragingly, “Sure, what sort of game is it?”  He feels a wave of euphoria wash over him that you hadn’t immediately rejected him, “Oh, it’s a great game made for two.  You can be my Player 2, if that’s ok.”  The sweet smile you gave him when you accepted was all he needed.  He’ll save the video feed of tonight and replay this voice clip on repeat tomorrow.  “Sure Idia, I’ll be your Player 2.”

[ilovecoelacanths]

It’s time for some facts about coelacanths!

I said I’d do this a while ago and I forgot so I’m doing it now because coelacanths are the best and more people should know how cool they are! I did not mean for this post to turn out so long but I promise the facts are very good (how could they not be when coelacanths are so cool)

There are two living species of coelacanth, Latimeria chalumnae, the West Indian Ocean coelacanth, and Latimeria menadoensis, the Indonesian coelacanth.

This is a West Indian Ocean coelacanth, they’re dark blue and each one has a unique pattern of white spots:

And this is an Indonesian coelacanth:

Indonesian coelacanths are noticeably different from West Indian Ocean coelacanths due to their background colouration being more of a greyish brown rather than blue. Their spots also appear more gold due to light reflecting off them :)

Coelacanths are old! The oldest coelacanth fossils date to more than 400 million years ago, and they were thought to have gone extinct about 66 million years ago, until 1938 when one was accidentally caught off the coast of South Africa and found by Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer.

Latimer contacted her friend, the ichthyologist J. L. B. Smith, who confirmed the fish was a coelacanth! Smith was given the honor of naming the fish, and he named it Latimeria after Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer. (Shown below with the coelacanth she found)

After their discovery, people mistakenly described them as the 'missing link' thanks to their leg-like fins, and this myth persisted thanks to the interesting way coelacanths swim, which appears almost like crawling.

Even today they are sometimes called 'living fossils' because of how little they have changed over millions of years. This label is not technically accurate since they are still evolving, but they do have one of the slowest evolving genomes in the animal kingdom, probably because they're already very well adapted to their environment and they don't have a lot of selection pressures affecting them.

Coelacanths can be more than six feet (up to two meters) long, weigh up to 200 pounds, and are estimated to be able to live up to 100 years! They are covered in hard, armor-like rough scales that are themselves covered in tiny spikes called denticles, which help protect coelacanths from rocks and other fish that might want to hurt them.

They also give birth to live young in litters of 10-25 pups and new research suggests they can be pregnant for as long as 5 years! This would mean that they beat out the frilled shark as the record holder for the longest gestation period by more than a year!

(Unfortunately this means that the birth rate for coelacanths is very low, which doesn't help their small populations. The West Indian Ocean coelacanth is critically endangered, and the Indonesian coelacanth is classified as threatened :( )

Coelacanths are what’s called a lobe-finned fish! This means that their fins look more like stumpy appendages than skin that's been stretched over flexible spines. Their closest relatives are lungfish, and that actually means they’re more closely related to us humans than they are to ray-finned fish like tuna or goldfish! Hell yeah!

Coelacanths live in the "twilight zone" which is between 500-800 feet deep. It’s hard to study coelacanths in their natural habitat for extended periods, but they never survive trips to the surface due to the pressure change, so a lot about their behavior is still pretty unknown.

Coelacanths are generally slow moving, nocturnal drift hunters, which means they tend to sort of just eat whatever fish cross their path, but they have a lot of interesting adaptations that make their particular method of drift hunting unique.

First, coelacanths have a hinge in their skull, called an intracranial joint, that lets them open their mouth more than would be possible with just their jaw.

Second, they display an interesting behavior when feeding, where they will float with their head pointed down, almost like they're doing a headstand. They do this while floating along catching prey, and it seems to be working out for them.

Third, coelacanths have a sixth sense! They have an organ in their snout called a rostral organ that functions as an electrosensor to help locate their prey by detecting the electrical signals given off by other animals!

They truly are a unique animal. They even have a caudal (tail) fin with three lobes instead of the two-lobed tail that is common in many fish.

(source for this diagram)

And here you can see the three-lobed caudal fin on a real coelacanth (and also you can have a reminder of how big these guys are. They are not little fish)

It seems coelacanths also have more similarities to their relatives, the lungfish, than we used to think. It turns out coelacanths have a vestigial lung! They have a lung that they don’t use anymore! It’s all shrivelled and wrinkly but it’s there!

They also have a spiral shaped intestine! Some sharks have this too, it’s basically shaped like a spiral to increase surface area for maximum nutrient absorption.

Another way they differ from many other fish is their swim bladder, which is how they control their buoyancy! In most fish the swim bladder is filled with gas, but coelacanths' swim bladders are filled with oil and fat instead!

Coelacanths are also the proud owners of notochords! They don’t have backbones, they’re so old they were around before animals had backbones and they just never got one, they still have their oil filled notochords! Don't fix it if it's not broken, right?

Also, just in case you were wondering, they would not taste good, they are full of all sorts of oils (as mentioned in the above two facts), plus they do have very hard and rough scales. (But also even if they did taste good it would be a bad idea to eat them since there aren't a lot of them left and it's generally considered bad to eat endangered species)

Well, that's the end of my coelacanth facts, so if you took the time to read this whole long post that was just me talking about my favorite animal, thanks for sticking around! Here, have some bonus content!

Coelacanths make a guest appearance in Atlantis: the Lost Empire!

I like seeing them in the movie so I ignore they weren’t discovered when the film takes place in 1914 (easy to ignore) and that they wouldn’t survive the trip to the surface due to the immense pressure change (less easy to ignore but I do it anyway) :)

My friend @thelunarbee even crocheted me one for a Christmas present :’) his name is Milo and I love him so so much

I also drew a coelacanth a while ago, here's where I posted it if you want to see it :) (I mean, I draw coelacanths all the time but those are mostly doodles, this one I actually put effort into)

Alright that's all I have to say, but I hope you liked the coelacanth facts and remember, if coelacanths can survive for 400 million years, you can make it through today. Be kind to yourself :)

[tadfools]

bee hello!! <3 <3 do you have any hcs for astarion's birth family? supposedly if they're elves they could still be alive...

This is longer than I meant it to be but you said my name so I love you anon and have unlocked an info dump that I've been sitting on for 2.5 years. This got away from me but the tldr is his mama's are named Aneirin and Juliana

I actually have a fic cooking right now about after the game's epilogue with his parents in it. Not to get too sidetracked, but my Tav is a necromancer, their son is dead and yet apparently saved all of the gate so... they come a knocking under the pretence that necromancer brought their dead son back as a thrall, pain comedy ensues (it'll be great i promise)

Astarion's only about 240 years old if we're taking the time he's been dead into account (high elves reach full maturity around 100 if you go by 5e rules and can live up to an average of 750)

I think his birth mother is on the soft side of 500 and with him being a magistrate, the Ancunín's come from money. Despite him having a grave in Baldur's Gate, I think his family resides in Evereska (its a big elven city) I've seen a few people ruminate over the possibility of him being a moon elf but... I don't know, there's something about him being ripped from the sun in every possible way that means so much to me. There's a part with the dark urge where he talks about not giving up freedom for all the gems in Evereska (i'm paraphrasing from memory here) I used that as an excuse to have him be from that city

Aneirin is the name I'm using for her in the fic and I think before he was taken from the sun and put under so much stress that his hair greyed, that he looked just like her.

Beautiful brown eyes that shine like copper under the sun but meld into a rich earth in the night. Her suntan skin is covered in freckles head to toe, her long curly hair is always kept within a neat braid which is coiled into a bun at the base of her neck. There’s a streak of grey woven through the curls

She has always been a kind woman, born into the higher echelons of society, she married an older elven man quite young named Tiberius at her parent’s behest to secure a business merger. Aneirin refused to take his last name. While they were always cordial to one another, there was no love shared between her and Tiberius but the son they had, Astarion, was the light of her life. There was no greater joy than hearing that of her son’s laughter. He loved her dearly and had promised to answer the sending spells she would toss his way after leaving Evereska – until he abruptly stopped

I think the Ancunín’s are skilled wizards, though Astarion falls into the arcane trickster category for me. If during the game his last name was ever mentioned, I fully think Gale would have had a wash of dread flow through him. The family keep to themselves yes, but that name is known through higher arcane circles

Tiberius died when Astarion was just a boy, there were never any memories to solidify him as Astarion’s father. But there was a wood elf woman named Juliana who always had a mischievous smile that kept close to the side of his mother. She was the one who taught Astarion on how to pick a lock, to balance on the heel of his foot as to not be noticed. She was the one who showed him how to wield a bow – much to his mother’s chagrin

Juliana has wine dark hair and is hardly ever seen without a ring on each finger. Tall and lithe, she glides through the room as if she were a shadow. Mischief incarnate, little Astarion took to her like a duck in water

Juliana and Aneirin met in their twenties at a ball - or a banquet (the two can never remember) Juliana’s family ran a renowned winery, Aneirin always fancied wine. And while Aneirin’s title forced her to marry Tiberius, the two women were never far from each other. After his death, she became a patron of the winery

I have a story beat where at the Last Light Astarion picks up an old bottle of red wine absentmindly and in gilded font it reads ‘Aneirin Red: dagger sheathed bow no longer notched; may the sunlight guide you home’ It *failed skilled check* strikes no chord in his mind