#Cure Jasmin

[pinceauarcenciel]

Full page illustration featuring my chemical engineer magical girl Carol x Cure Jasmin, for the @fullsteamzine​! This zine is sooo pretty, full of fabulous OCs, and love for women in STEAM 💙

🚀 Leftover sales are open until Dec. 9, last chance to get your own (digital) copy or some very cute merchs!

※ Kokoro♡Clock Precure • fanseries by @rainbowmiraclestar & @pinceauarcenciel ※ (More infos on the FancureParadise wikia)

[rose-colored-lottie]

[randomminty]

forgot these two were friends in the anime……. Good for them

[arcadian-litterateur]

rivers run dry | gally x oc

masterlist

summary: the four times gally cried in the glade, and one time he cried while escaping it.

word count: 4k

warnings: suicide, death, suicidal thoughts, nightmares, knives, blood, bodily fluids

a/n: so gally is my sweet baby boy and i have a feeling he masks his feelings and never lets himself cry. this one shot started out from that basic idea and then i decided to add in a love interest oc. jaelin is definitely flawed as you'll see, but she's also my baby and i will probably write more about her.

jaelin is named after "jael" from the bible. when israel was getting attacked by (some foreign army), the guy in charge of the israelite soldiers chickened out, and the leader of the attackers escaped, but jael, an israelite woman, lured him into her tent and was like "take a nap here while i make you a snack" and then while he was asleep she hammered a tent peg through his temple (he died lol). so she became the hero of the battle! pretty badass, if you ask me.

jaelin is played by jasmin savoy brown

In all his time in the Glade, Gally had only cried four times. He'd felt close to tears hundreds of times; at least once a week if not once a day, but the tears only fell four times. He only let them fall four times.

The first time Gally cried in the Glade was when he came up in the Box. He was jammed into the tight, confined space with what seemed to be twenty other boys, with no memory of who he was and the sinking feeling that he was hurtling up towards death. The smells of vomit, sweat, and urine mingled in the air, Gally unsure if his neighbor had pissed himself or if Gally himself was the culprit. When the Box slammed to a halt, the possibility that he'd pissed his pants became less of a priority, the crying and yelling of the boys pausing when a tall boy at the front climbed out of the Box to check their surroundings.

“It's a clearing, surrounded by walls too high to climb,” the boy observed, as he scanned the dark, evening-shadowed Glade. “But nothing too dangerous. It looks like it's made to be lived in.” At this affirmation of safety, the sweaty boys started clambering to leave the confined space. Gally hung back, not wanting to be trampled—or, considering his large frame, accidentally trample someone else. Eventually though, he was pulled out of the Box with the other stragglers, a wiry, tall boy with sharp eyes and brown hair taking control. Thin, wire-frame glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. Trying to assess the situation, the boy asked,

“Does anyone remember anything?” A chorus of names rang out but no other information seemed retrievable, some boys still at a loss for what their names were. Gally had remembered his name as an older, dark-skinned boy had helped him out of the Box. “I'm Nick,” the self-appointed leader stated. “That's all I remember, and it seems like whoever put us here might have made us forget everything on purpose.” A murmur of agreement rose amongst the group, one blond boy remarking,

“They've given us supplies to start a homestead in this Glade, whoever they are.” Gally noticed an interesting lilt in his voice. He was British. Gally also noticed that he was right. The supplies in the Box were for building; starting a life here…and that scared Gally.

The dark-skinned boy who'd helped Gally out of the Box was standing next to Nick, obviously taking the spot of Second-in-Command. He addressed the group, “My name's Alby. And I think this blondie here is right. What's your name, Blondie?”

“Newt,” the Brit answered.

“Like a lizard?” another kid spoke up. Newt rolled his eyes,

“No. It's short for Newton. I just have this feeling that I was always just Newt, before. Whatever before was.”

“Newt, it is, then,” the other boy shrugged. “I'm George.”

“Alright, introductions later,” Nick interrupted. “For now, let's unload the Box. Then we'll figure out where to go from there.” In robotic, shocked motions, the boys got to work, Gally's mind numb and void of memories, but buzzing with an odd feeling about something important.

It hit him then, how shitty and confusing this situation was. He felt so utterly alone. He had this sinking feeling that loneliness had been a common variable in his before, and he had a feeling that would remain true even now, in the Glade.

Much to Gally's chagrin, tears pricked his eyes as the panic caused by the amnesia found a grip around his heart. The boy tried to hold the tears back for as long as possible, but the desire—the need—to cry was overpoweringly large, and as quick as they'd formed, droplets were rolling down Gally's face and onto his shirt.

Gally was sobbing, and anyone could see him.

Newt was the only one brave enough to approach Gally. Every other boy in the Glade had shrunk back, obviously intimidated by Gally's height and strength, despite his current state. However, Gally's height advantage over everyone but Alby didn't seem to intimidate Newt.

“Hey, Bud, are you alright?” Newt asked, placing a gentle hand on Gally's broad shoulder. It took Gally a second or two to gain enough composure to whisper,

“Yeah.” Of course, that was a lie; none of them were fine, but Newt let it slide.

“What's your name?” the British boy inquired.

“Gally.”

“Well, it's nice to meet you, Gally. You're pretty strong, it looks like. Care to help move and sort these building supplies?” The offer was an olive branch, and Gally knew that he wouldn't be judged for refusing and staying here to cry some more. But the word “building” seemed to reignite a spark in him; give him a reason to get up.

“I think I'm supposed to build stuff, he mumbled, the epiphany lighting up a once-dull face with hopeful determination.

Newt looked surprised, but then grinned, declaring, “Then build, you will!” He offered a hand to Gally, who let himself be pulled to his feet. Newt looked his age—maybe younger, even—but there was a nurturing air about him that made Gally trust him enough to follow him.

Drying his tears, Gally followed Newt to the building materials, ready to jump right in.

The second time Gally cried in the Glade was when Jaelin told him she wanted to die. Jaelin was the only female Glader, and her intended role was still unclear—at least, as far as what the Creators wanted. However, she'd adjusted well during her first year in the Glade, almost becoming “one of the boys.” She'd made it clear that she wasn't interested in romance, and was badass enough to kick your ass if you tried anything funny. The first two guys were humiliated enough for all the other Gladers to get the memo—you did not mess with Jaelin.

Jaelin could see past Gally's tough exterior to the light within, even when he couldn't see it himself. She had this talent of bringing out the best in him. In everyone. He trusted her with his life. All his struggles, secrets, and slip-ups were hers to know.

He always felt extra special when she'd share something in return, but he never could've prepared himself for the way Jaelin's sunny face dropped, her body slumping against his as she mumbled, “I'm so tired of all of this. Of the monotony. The loneliness. I want to end it.”

Gally's heart immediately skipped a beat, his mind racing as he muttered, “No, no, Jaelin. No, you can't. Jaelin, please.” The teenage girl just looked up at him pleadingly, those doe eyes filled with desperation.

“Gally, you don't get it. You don't understand what it's like.”

“I know I don't, but I care too much to let you give up,” he argued, unsure of how to show her that she was needed. A blurry image of him chiseling a line through her name popped into his head, and he felt tears rush to his eyes, seemingly out of the blue. “I know it's selfish as hell, Jae, but I can't lose you,” Gally confessed. “I don't know how I'd survive without you.”

Almost of their own accord, his arms wrapped around Jaelin, enveloping her in a warm, secure embrace. She didn't fight it, slowly wrapping her own arms around Gally's waist. She could feel his face pressed into her hair—which she didn't mind, seeing as her face was smushed against his chest—and from the vibrations of his sternum, Jaelin had a feeling the boy was crying. She'd never witnessed him crying before. She knew he was being exceptionally vulnerable, all in an attempt to reach her and pull her from such dark depths.

Gally knew his tears were dripping down his face and onto Jaelin's hair, and he truly hoped she didn't mind, because there was no way he was letting go. He'd hold onto Jaelin for the rest of time to keep her safe, if need be.

“Jaelin, please don't go,” he murmured, body shaking as tears poured from his eyes. “I'll do anything.” Gally felt the girl's body go completely lax as a small wet mark appeared on his shirt, right where her eyes were. She was crying, too. “Jae?” he asked, concerned.

“I'm okay,” came the soft reply, Gally becoming hyper aware of Jaelin's warm breath blowing across his chest through his thin shirt. Gally's hand automatically found her hair, running through it in soothing repetition. Of course, he'd done that before, but this was a different dynamic. A different purpose. Not playful or teasing, just “I love you and I'm here.”

“Are you?” Gally questioned. It wasn't that he didn't believe her—far from it—but he just wanted to make sure she had a good grasp on her mental state.

“Well, I'm doing better than a few minutes ago,” Jaelin clarified. Gally nodded,

“Good. Now, is it safe for me to let you go? You're going to be smart, right? You're not going to try to hurt yourself, right?”

“Right,” Jaelin agreed. “I'm going to help you finish Builders' inventory, and then eat dinner with you, and then hang out with you.” As she said this, Jaelin used her long sleeves to dry Gally's face of the remaining tears he'd shed for her, the small but kind gesture making the teenage boy's heart soar.

“That sounds like a good plan,” he chuckled, standing up and pulling Jaelin up with him.

“Where to, Captain Gally?” the girl joked. Gally laughed, accepting her offer to link arms.

“To storage!” And off the mismatched pair went.

The third time Gally cried in the Glade was when he was stung. Now, Gally wasn't stupid—he knew that as a non-Runner, he wasn't allowed to enter the Maze. And Gally, being the stickler for rules that he was, would over the rule of the Glade till his dying breath.

But, of course, everyone has a weakness. Everyone has something that would make them risk it all, just to secure some kind of finality for whatever that something is. Or in Gally's case, someone. Jaelin.

Looking back, it was clear to Gally that Jaelin was just as much of a rule-follower as he was. Jaelin would never enter the Maze when the rules clearly forbid it. She appreciated order; swore by it. No, Gally should never have thought that Jaelin might have entered the Maze. It wasn't in her nature. And he learned from this mistake; Gally did. Yes, he suffered for it dearly.

It had been a few weeks since Jaelin had opened up about being suicidal, and much to Gally's relief, she'd remained open and happy to accept help. She even told Gally herself that she was doing better, which he was glad about. And seeing Jaelin smile again? Gosh, it made Gally's days complete, filling his stony heart with meager fragments of hope. Small, but definitely there. Everything felt as it should be in Gally's book.

But then one day, Jaelin was nowhere to be found. Gally checked all their usual spots and even the obscure ones, several Gladers helping, but the girl seemed to have vanished. No one could figure out what happened. And then Gally found the note on his desk that simply read, ‘“I love you ~J.” His breath caught in his throat, mind racing to connect the dots as he came to the conclusion,

“She went into the Maze to end her life.” Alby just stared at Gally, not moving, and the boy grew impatient, grunting angrily, “Fine! I'll go after her myself!” Before anyone could stop him, Gally rushed into the Maze.

Jaelin, who'd retreated to the tallest tree in the Deadheads in an attempt to be alone, didn't become aware of what was happening until she heard the screams of a stung Glader being rushed to a Med-hut. As a Med-jack, she was supposed to be there. The girl found herself rushing there as fast as possible in order to find out who the unlucky sting victim was.

When Jaelin saw Gally thrashing against his bonds on a medical cot, her heart stopped.

Her first thought was that as a Builder, Gally never should have been in the Maze. So why the hell had he gone into the Maze?

She got her answer when the boys surrounding Gally saw her and gave varying exclamations of,

“Jaelin!”

“Where were you?”

“We've been looking for you!”

Jaelin was confused by this, questioning their concern about her whereabouts with a quick explanation as to where she was, confused and shocked when Newt cussed loudly.

“Will someone tell me what's going on and why Gally got stung?” the girl pleaded. Of course, the answer was not one she expected—or wanted—to hear.

“He was trying to find you,” Minho said flatly. “Found your note, convinced himself it was a suicide note, and ran into the Maze.” Jaelin's jaw dropped, hands coming up to cover her mouth as guilt started to toss and turn in her stomach.

“So why'd you leave a note like that if you weren't going to kill yourself?” Newt snapped. Jaelin winced, knowing this was a touchy subject for the second-in-command. “Jaelin, that's basically the exact note I left Alby, and Gally was here, then, remember?”

“It was a love confession!” Jaelin spat out, embarrassed to admit to it, given the circumstances, especially. “I didn't think of the similarities to Newt's note, so I'm sorry about that, but honestly, it was just a love confession. If he'd flipped it over, he would've seen that it said, ‘If you feel the same, meet me at the tallest tree in the Deadheads.’”

“So you aren't going to commit suicide?” Alby clarified.

“No!” Jaelin exclaimed, walking over to Gally's side sorrowfully. “It's not even an option. I stick with you guys.”

A look of relief passed over the faces of all the boys in the room, despite the circumstances. Jaelin ignored this, too guilty to think of anyone but Gally.

He'd stopped thrashing, instead trapped in his own head, trying to separate nightmares from memories, which is difficult when most of your memories are as horrific as nightmares. Jaelin was able to loosely clap his right hand in both of hers, his hands significantly larger than hers.

“No!” Startled, Jaelin looked down at the boy, who was still trapped in his mind, obviously recalling something awful, because he was whimpering and murmuring phrases like “It hurts” and “Please stop.” Jaelin felt her heart fracture slightly, once again overwhelmed by the thought that this was her fault. It was only made worse when the tears started leaking from Gally's eyes and rolling down his face, sobs becoming more pronounced. The words he'd been muttering became unintelligible, drowned out by his cries.

There he was, Jaelin's strong rock, crying in the middle of the Med-hut.

The girl felt her own eyes start to water at the pained noises coming from Gally's mouth, unable to imagine how much physical and mental pain he was in. Gally's eyes flew open, blue orbs finding her chestnut brown ones, before he screamed,

“Stop! Make it stop!” When he broke down into sobs again, it became clear that he'd been reliving a memory verbally, Jaelin still unable to do anything more than hold his hand and whisper reassuring comforts, placing a cool compress on his forehead to combat his raging fever.

Jaelin used a rag to gently wash Gally's face, removing the tear stains on his cheeks. His tan skin was flushed pink from fever, face breaking out in severe patches of acne from the stress of the Changing. She did her best to treat that, too, even going so far as to wash his hair after his second day, the fever causing extra sweat to find a home in his sandy colored hair. She found herself struggling to leave his side, growing heavy with guilt whenever she tried. So she just stayed by his side, holding his hand, for five days.

“Jae?” came a raspy cough on the afternoon of the fifth day. The girl immediately woke up from where she'd dozed off in the chair next to Gally's bedside.

“Gal? You're back?” she asked, excited but tentative.

“Yeah,” he answered, “I think it's over.” Jaelin let out a sigh of relief, only hesitating for a second before leaping onto cot with Gally to give him the biggest hug she could.

It was Newt, however, not Jaelin, who explained the note and everything that had happened, Jaelin unable to find it within herself to explain again.

When Newt told Gally the vital piece of information he'd missed—Jaelin’s note was a love confession—the boy gasped, a dopey smile landing on his face as he muttered,

“Can you get Jaelin for me?” From the look on his face, Newt assumed the boy returned Jaelin's feelings, but this was confirmed without a doubt when Jaelin walked to Gally's bedside, unable to make eye contact out of nervousness, and Gally whispered, “Jae, look at me.” The girl obeyed, warm brown eyes meeting Gally's deep blue ones. Before Jaelin could say a word, Gally reached up and cupped her face in his hands before guiding her lips to his in a gentle yet passionate kiss.

It was a ‘finally’ kiss, symbolizing two kids finding love against all odds in a place resembling utter hell. And so when Jaelin pulled back for air, a surprised look still frozen on her face, Gally confessed,

“I've had the biggest crush on you for fucking ever.” Newt clucked his tongue, leading Gally to revise his statement. “Sorry, I've had the biggest crush on you for shucking ever.”

Jaelin's face broke into a wide, ecstatic smile. “Really?”

“Yes, Jae, for real,” Gally chuckled.

This was all it took for Jaelin to full-on leap into Gally's arms, the medical cot shifting in protest at the sudden addition of weight. The two teenagers didn't seem to notice or care, too set on colliding with the other's lips again to worry about something so trivial as the integrity of the cot. Jaelin's lips, chapped from nervous biting and dehydration, found Gally's, which were surprisingly soft, mouths brushing in romantic, teasing kisses before she pressed her lips firmly to his, unable to resist the promise of making out with her long time crush.

A low whistle caused Gally and Jaelin to pull apart for a second, observing Minho's triumphant stance in the doorway as he crowed, “Knew it!” Rolling their eyes, the two lovesick Gladers went back to exchanging kisses, all tears from days prior forgotten.

The fourth and final time Gally cried in the Glade was when Jaelin died. More specifically, when Jaelin went crazy and then stabbed herself to death.

Everyone swore they didn't see it coming—didn't expect the self destructive desires in her head to win—but every single one of them was lying. They'd all seen Jaelin start to spiral. But none of them had known how to help her and so, like the cowards they were, they left the girl to sink or swim.Gally hated every single one of them now, himself included.

Jaelin's role as a Med-jack meant that she didn't have one continuous work day, like with the other jobs. Rather, once she finished her daily tasks, she was free until someone called for a Med-jack. She spent lots of time with Gally while he built, and otherwise hung out in the Deadheads to journal. This solitude was good for her—but it ended up being her downfall.

She spent too much time alone with her thoughts, and it made her go insane.

Gally had been working on a building project when it all happened, Jaelin's screams in the middle of the Glade drawing everyone's attention. Gally immediately hurried down the ladder, dropped his tools, and sprinted towards Jaelin, who was holding a knife up to ward off Newt and Alby's attempts to talk her down.

“Jaelin, put the knife down and we can talk about this,” Newt reasoned, Gally falling into place beside the Second-in-Command.

Jaelin's eyes flickered to Gally's for half a second before she turned back to Newt and spat, “No, I won't. I hate it here.” Gally winced as Alby interjected,

“Why do you hate it here?” Jaelin scoffed.

“Why don't I hate it here? I'm stuck in a Glade, surrounded by a Maze filled with monsters, with only guys as company, harboring that knowledge that if at any point you all turned on me together, I'd be powerless to stop it.” Jaelin's chest heaved with emotion as the knife she held in front of her shook.

“We won't turn on you,” Gally insisted firmly, but Jaelin's eyes just flashed,

“Until you do. Until you're all so desperate that you gang up on me and grab me and rape me until I bleed out and die.”

Alby's jaw dropped, Newt shuddered, and Gally's eyes started to water.

“What?” Jaelin screeched. “It'll happen and you know it!” Gally took a step forward, hands outstretched as if to seem unthreatening, but Jaelin screamed again, so he backed away.

“Have you been stung, Jaelin?” Alby asked bluntly, earning a dry chuckle from the girl.

“No, Alby. I'm very much in my right mind at the present. I'm a Realist. I'm thinking realistically.”

Gally shook his head, unable to keep quiet now. “No, Jae! This isn't realistic. And you can't do this. I love you too much, remember?” He got choked up as the first tear slid down his cheek. “I can't survive without you.”

Jaelin's eyes grew cold, “Then die, too.” The girl stabbed the knife into her stomach.

“No!” Gally screamed, floodgates bursting open as Jaelin let a pained yell, yanking the knife out of her body before stabbing again, this time a little further up. “Stop!” Gally begged the girl, who let out some kind of agonized shriek-cackle, her face a confusing mix of defeat and triumph.

As if she was winning and losing at the same time.

She'd stabbed herself at least five times now, blood gushing from seemingly small cuts. Jeff and Clint had rushed over quickly, but she was crazed enough that no one could get close enough to subdue her. Gally tried, but got pulled back by Frypan and Winston right before Jae's knife would have slashed his carotid artery. The blood was coming too fast, anyway. She'd already lost too much.

The girl's grip went slack, the knife sliding out of it in time to hit the ground with her body. She immediately went still, sprawled across the ground, Jeff and Clint hurrying to try and save her, but it was too late. It was only a few minutes later when they got up solemnly, Jeff whispering, “I'm sorry.” Clint practically collapsed into his arms, both boys starting to sob as the death of their fellow Med-jack became real.

Gally stood staring at Jaelin's body numbly for a few moments before trudging over to her still form. He cradled it in his arms so gently that it surprised some of the other Gladers, but he didn't care. All he knew was that the love of his life had just died. Had wanted to die. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead before tilting his head up to the sky and, without warning, letting out a long, loud, anguished bellow.

“Fuck you!” he screamed at the Creators of such a hellhole; such a nightmare. No one had the strength to chastise him for cussing, not even Newt. Then he broke down in pained, heartbroken sobs again, the ache in his chest akin to a thousand splinters driving their way into every vital organ.

Without Jae, part of him—a large part of him—wanted to die, too. And that part grew and grew, slowly taking over until it was almost the only thing left. It ate away at this once untouchable boy, stripping him of his defenses and hope.

The next time he cried, he was barely even Gally anymore; just WCKD's puppet with Gally's face. He had lost the ability to fight their sick programming, and now, it had taken over. No, Gally wasn't truly living that last time he cried.

Without Jaelin, Gally would never truly live again. After all, when you give someone your heart, you place your life in their hands. And so when Jaelin died, Gally did, too.

Two rivers, running dry.

the end

[curemoonliite]

*finds this on eBay*

*sighs and adds this to the list of things i didn't know existed until now but now desperately need*

[phrynewrites]

Already thinking about early on Bosco being a bit of a brat and criticising Jasmine's bold "less-than-subtle" methods while they're planning a job so she slides in, pretending to look over the blueprints with a giggle and casual touches, proving how disarming her methods can be. Bosco acting like they're not affected but doesn't notice until after when they take a sip of their coffee that she's slipped half a shaker of salt into it.

For sure like I see Bosco are far more calculating like they’ve thought through every single detail and see Jasmine’s methods as sloppy and ill planned, like she just relies on luck and beauty to make her way through the world. And Bosco finds it annoying, yet intriguing.

And she’s absolutely out to prove her methods are just as valid, hovering her hand over Bosco’s as they’re pointing to an important air duct in the museum, laughing at Bosco’s offhand jokes about how it’s going to be a tight squeeze. And Jasmine’s brushed their hair out of their way letting her fingers trail over their neck—bosco doesn’t even realize that she’s salted their coffee until they feel the need to occupy themself with something else, something to distract them from Jasmine.

And Jasmine’s standing there, all coy, on her tippy toes whispering that it’s a good thing she needs a partner to work the vents while she’s working the museum curator, otherwise she would have slipped something a touch stronger in their coffee

[barbreypilled]

never and I mean never type the name of a book u enjoy into spotify u will get the absolute most rancid tiktok playlist

[oqulis]

no greater relief than when the candle you made starts actually smelling like the shit you put in there like a week into the curing process. babygirl you had me so scared why are you so Candlescience Petrichor and no 85% sandalwood/jasmine/bergamot

[ro-is-struggling]

The Princess and The Wolf || PART 1 || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: A look inside the complicated love story between the runaway princess and the lone wolf that saved her.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mutual pining, really bittersweet, heavy narration and not much dialogue, female reader (use of she/her pronouns//reader is a princess), mentions of blood and injuries (reader heals Geralt’s wounds), my shitty titles (I’m so bad at it, I’m so sorry)

English is not my first language

Word count: 5000

Notes: Look,  I was in the mood for writing something cute and fluffy and magical (but also it's Geralt so it as to be angsty). I know those are probably not the words that come to your mind when you think of Geralt, but let me change your mind! Also I love writing healers/nature witches. Can you tell my fav character as a kid was Flora from Winx Club? 

This is my first time writing something like this (as in this style of narrative and for this character in particular) so be gentle!

READ PART 2 HERE

Geralt was not used to feeling that way. In his many years of living on this earth, he had never missed anyone the way he missed her. He was a lone wolf who, despite having his pack, enjoyed traveling from town to town with his horse as his only companion. He enjoyed the silence and tranquility, and did not tend to miss home too much —finding that his annual visits in the winter were more than enough to catch up with his brothers while healing his wounds. 

However, he did miss her when he was traveling. He missed feeling the warm touch of her skilled hands on his wounds as she healed him. He missed waking up to the sound of her laughter, talking to her cat as she prepared breakfast. He even missed her scolding and the look of concern she gave him every time he arrived at the door of her cabin hidden in the forest, injured. She made him feel special, often occupying his thoughts and dreams. He knew what it was, but refused to call it by name —if he did, it became real and he didn't know if he was ready for that.

Such was his longing to see her that he was almost happy to be wounded in battle, finding the perfect excuse to show up at her door once again. His wounds were deep, the beast's venom slowly spreading through his system. Were it not for the fact that he was close to her home, Geralt was fairly certain he would not have reached her in time. His healing skills were limited and only served to make his journey to the hut more bearable. Yet, the closer he got to her, the less his body ached. The promise of her company alone was enough to cure his afflictions.

Geralt was weak when he arrived at her door. From the way her natural cheerful expression turned into a worried grimace when she saw him on the other side of the wood, it was safe to assume he was not looking good. She rushed him to bed, asking him a thousand questions as she paced back and forth, gathering the necessary herbs and potions to treat his wounds. He answered no more than necessary, giving her just enough information to treat him and sparing her the details of his journey. 

He was distracted, his mind clouded by the lack of blood and the poison spreading through his body, but also by the sweet floral scent that surrounded him. It was a perfume he could only describe as the very essence of her, a mixture of jasmine, roses and a hint of vanilla that followed her everywhere, leaving a special scent in the air that assaulted the witcher's nostrils, rendering him powerless. 

"Drink this," she told him as she offered him a vial of a pale green liquid. It was a potion that would help with the poison, she explained, though he needed no reason to obey her. Geralt trusted her completely and would have drank anything she offered without question. 

"Try to hold still, this might sting a little." She warned him, pushing his clothes aside so she could treat the deep gash in his chest. She smeared her fingers with a paste that had a peculiar odor, rubbing it over her hands to warm it before directing them to the wound. Geralt was met with a burning sensation that spread from his wound to the rest of his chest as soon as her fingers made contact with his skin. He let out a grunt, fighting the spasms of his muscles to allow her to work comfortably. However, the burning was soon replaced by a sensation of pleasant warmth as she uttered an incantation in the ancient tongue. 

He concentrated on the harmonious sound of her voice, letting the words transport him back to that first time they had found themselves in a similar situation. He had been hired by the king to assassinate the beast that had killed the princess. It was said that it prowled the forest after sunset, it was there that the young girl had met her fatal fate. Her love for nature and the long walks under the moonlight was what had ultimately made her an easy prey for that monster. Geralt did not retain the specific details of that story, only what was useful to analyze his enemy. Had he done so, he might have realized that there were strange things in the story that would make any Witcher suspicious. And perhaps then he would not have been so surprised when he found the princess very much alive and well, wandering through the forest alone.

"Please, don't make me go back there." She had begged him after explaining that she had taken advantage of the beast's convenient appearance to escape from her home. "There's nothing waiting for me back there, only a future of unhappiness and subjugation to a man that doesn't respect me."

"I was hired to kill a beast and that's all I intend to do." Was his reply. He was more than ready to continue on his way, to leave her behind to sort out her fate while he dealt with what he had been hired to do, but the princess did not give him the opportunity. She begged for his help to escape from there, she didn't care where he took her as long as he got her as far away from her kingdom as possible. Her escape had not been planned, but a last minute decision that had not allowed her to pack supplies or even steal a horse from the stable. Still, she had been able to travel a fairly long way on foot, but it was evident that she could not continue like this much longer.

"I can't pay you in coin," she told him. "But I can make sure you survive your battle."

Geralt felt sorry for the young woman and was going to help her without asking for anything in return. He really doubted that she had anything valuable to offer him. He was a Witcher, an assassin highly trained in both combat and the arts of magic, tools he used to keep himself alive in the high-risk situations he lived in on a regular basis. However, his mercy proved useful after the battle, when the young princess demonstrated her healing abilities.

His wounds were deep, he was tired and his skin was painted with the reddish sticky liquid that ran through the beast's veins. But still, he was able to crawl to safety where she waited for him with his horse Roach. When she saw him approaching on the horizon she jumped to her feet, hands full of herbs she had gathered in preparation for that moment. Geralt could see nothing but a halo of light in the distance, a figure of hope running towards him with hair flying in the wind as it called his name.

He collapsed against a tree trunk, his breath hitching as the world around him became blurry and dark. He was not unconscious, but neither was he able to process what was happening around him. His memories of that moment were blurry, like a dream slipping from his mind upon awakening. The only thing he remembered clearly was a sweet female voice calling him back to life as soft hands caressed his skin, spreading their comforting warmth inside him.

Geralt had felt peace for the first time in a long while as her hands worked their magic on him, just as he felt at this very moment as her fingers caressed his skin once again. It always happened, her touch alone flooded his insides with peace and tranquility. Maybe that was why he missed her so much, maybe that was why he found himself visiting her for the simplest injuries that even he could heal. Unlike other healers, she was the only one who could calm his tormented soul, the only one who could quiet his thoughts and remove all traces of bitter negativity from his heart. 

"Rest." He heard her whisper in his ear and as much as he wanted to, he didn't have the strength to open his eyes and look at her one more time. Geralt knew he was tired, but only now, in the quiet of her company and wrapped in the warmth of her body, did he realize just how much. 

When he opened his eyes again it was morning. The rays of sunlight streaming through the window touched his face in a warm caress. His pupils were forced to adjust to the light as he opened his eyes, narrowing to almost two slits identical to those of the black cat resting beside him. The animal meowed contentedly as he shifted between the sheets —letting out a grunt of pain at the heaviness of his muscles. He stroked the cat as it purred at him, scratching its head and behind its ears as he knew it liked, before making an effort to get out of bed. His body ached and he still felt tired, but given what he had been through, he was lucky to be alive. 

Geralt heard the sweet sound of the young woman's voice echoing down the hallway like a melodious murmur that filled his heart with joy. It came from the garden, so that was where he went. He found her having a conversation with Roach, brushing the horse's mane while complaining about him to the animal as if it could talk back. They were harmless comments that he knew she didn't mean, though he'd heard them in the past —complaints about his recklessness and lack of responsibility as a horse owner were never lacking. She was especially fond of animals, so she loved to talk to his horse as if he were a human being. She did it with her cat as well, and with any animal that crossed her path. Geralt found it entertaining, though a bit excessive —especially when they traveled together and she made him stop every so often to pet and chat with every rabbit and squirrel in their path.

"What are you doing out of bed? You need to rest!" She scolded him as soon as her eyes landed on him. As firm as her gaze was, he could see concern rather than anger or annoyance reflected in them.

"I would have stayed in bed if I hadn't felt the need to come out and defend my good name." He played along, the corner of his mouth curving ever so slightly upward in an almost imperceptible movement. "I can't have you filling Roach's head with lies about me."

"They are not lies!" She grumbled, folding her arms in exaggerated annoyance. "You are reckless and you don't give poor Roach enough attention." At her words, the animal thumped its front left paw against the ground as if it understood what she had said and agreed. Geralt huffed, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

"You already turned her against me." She laughed and it was like music to his ears, a melodious tone that awakened happiness within him. 

"I don't have to, she is a smart creature." She fired back, giving the horse a couple of gentle pets before setting aside what she was doing to focus her attention on him. "But seriously, you need to get back in bed."

"I'm fine." It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either. She looked at him steadily and Geralt knew she thought she looked intimidating, but with the way the light of the rising sun framed her figure and the gentle breeze moving her hair, he saw nothing more than a forest fairy. The most beautiful and innocent fairy he had ever seen. He was tempted to challenge her just to tease her and make her grumble. She looked adorable when she pointed an accusatory finger at him believing that something she did or said could intimidate the Witcher. In the end he decided not to do so and instead accompanied her back into the house, though he did not lie down again, but sat with her at the kitchen table. 

She insisted on preparing breakfast on her own, arguing that he was her guest and that he was badly injured, so Geralt had the opportunity to admire her as she moved about the room, humming under her breath melodies he did not recognize. It made him genuinely happy to see her acting so freely around him, thinking about how far their relationship had come. When he had first met her, she was far from the confident, free spirit she was now. She was quiet and reserved, barely asking him questions from time to time to fill the void of silence and always apologizing for everything.

It was more than mere distrust of a stranger, Geralt could see in her eyes that she was trapped inside herself, a cocoon of fears and insecurities that trapped in its intricate net the beautiful butterfly that lurked within. She would show her true colors from time to time, like when he would catch her talking to Roach when she thought he was sleeping, or when she would make them stop to help a wounded animal. But she always apologized immediately afterwards, as if she realized too late that she had done something wrong, something she wasn't supposed to do. It made Geralt wonder what kind of life she had left behind when she ran away from home. 

He was not a man of many words and was used to traveling alone and in silence, accompanied only by the chirping of birds and the crunching of dry leaves under Roach's hooves, but when it came to her he felt a strange need to hear her speak. Perhaps it was the harmonious tone of her voice, or maybe the fact that he could tell she needed to express herself, but he didn't mind when she rambled absentmindedly as they traveled, putting into words every thought that crossed her mind. 

"I was never meant to be a princess, no matter what my blood says." She had confessed to him one afternoon as they walked through the forest. "The traditions, the politics, the expectations... I was never good at any of that."

"Is that why you ran away?" His question took her by surprise. He barely spoke to her so she assumed he wasn't listening to her most of the time. When she turned to look at him she found his yellow eyes fixed on her, making her feel small under his intense gaze.

"I wanted to be free." She answered honestly. "I refused to live trapped inside a castle for another day, pretending to be someone I'm not, pleasing everybody but myself... I want to forge my own path, build my own destiny. I have no idea what I'm doing or if it will even work, but I owe it to myself to try."

Geralt admired her for that. She wasn't sure what she wanted, but she knew what she didn't want and had had the courage to do something about it. That was why he was so glad things were going well for her. She deserved her freedom, she deserved to have the space to find herself and live her life on her terms. Her bravery had been rewarded.

"How are you feeling?" She asked him as she set a plate of food in front of him, her voice bringing him out of his thoughts. 

"I'm fine."

"Are you? Or are you doing that thing you do all the time when you pretend not to need anyone's help?" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, proud of herself for knowing him so well. 

Geralt sighed. "I'm a bit sore and tired, but I'll live." He finally confessed.

"That's normal, you were really hurt. I'm amazed that you got here in one piece." 

"You should have seen the other guy." He joked sarcastically and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm being serious, Geralt. The poison could have killed you."

"It didn't."

"Only because of your slow heartbeat, but what if next time you don't get so lucky?" The tone of the conversation suddenly changed as they looked into each other's eyes. The familiar heavy tension in the air, making it hard to breathe. 

It was her greatest fear. She feared there would come a day when Geralt's wounds would be so bad that even she wouldn't be able to heal them. She feared it almost as much as never opening the door again and finding him on the other side. The thought of him dying, at home or out on the battlefield, terrified her. She knew it was stupid since he was a Witcher, a being genetically modified to face the greatest dangers, whose purpose in life was to kill monsters. She knew the smart thing to do would have been to get away from him in time, before his absence hurt her as much as it did. She knew there was no point in worrying about someone who had made peace with the idea of dying in battle, but she did it anyway. She couldn't help but fear for his safety the moment he set foot outside her home, worrying until he would eventually show up there again.

"Just... be careful." She muttered after a few seconds of silence, swallowing her emotions as a lump formed in her throat.

Geralt could see the pain in her eyes, the fear and worry shining in them clearly. He felt the need to assure her that he would be all right, but they both knew that was a lie. In his line of work one could never be sure of anything. Things could change very quickly and even he could be surprised with the cold caress of death sooner than expected. The best he could do was to assure her that he would do everything in his power to get back to her.

"I will be." 

That wasn't enough to dissipate the young woman's fears, but it was enough to calm her worries for the moment. Instead of concentrating on things she couldn't control, she chose to turn her attention to the things she could. After breakfast she inspected Geralt's wounds once more to make sure they were healing properly. With the help of her magic and the speed with which the Witcher's body regenerated, the deep gash that adorned his chest was now no more than a scratch. The skin was still red and irritated, but it was in better condition than just a few hours ago. The same with the rest of the cuts and scratches that graced the rest of his body, some of which had already disappeared completely, leaving behind a slightly discolored line on the skin.

She sat beside him as she worked, rubbing a healing paste of her own creation over what was left of his wounds. She focused her energy on him, eyes glued to the skin of his chest as she let her fingers work their magic. She knew it probably wasn't necessary, given the rapid evolution of his cuts they would most likely be practically healed in a couple more hours. But she wanted to do it. She didn't like to see him hurt, even if it was something that happened regularly. He always came to her bruised and bloody, but even then she never got used to seeing him like that. She hated to see him suffer, so when he was with her she would go out of her way to heal all the wounds on his body no matter how small or insignificant. She wanted to make her home a sanctuary for him, a place free of pain and danger where they were safe to be together.

Geralt could feel her energy enveloping him, the warmth her body radiated caressing his skin delicately. The scent of her hair flooded his nostrils, filling his lungs with that sweet floral perfume that was so distinctive to him. It was intoxicating, a drug he couldn't quit. He allowed himself to get lost in the moment, enjoying the soft touch of her hands on his chest and shoulders as he admired her work. She was beautiful, like a flower full of color and life that only grew stronger with each of his visits. Her smile, a ray of sunshine that lit up the gray, cloudy sky that was his life. And her eyes... oh her eyes. Geralt could get lost in them for hours, reading in her reflection every little thought that went through her head. To him she was an open book, the most fascinating he had read in a long time.

She became slightly nervous when she looked up and met Geralt's intense gaze fixed on her. They were close, too close to each other for her not to feel intimidated under the watchful admiration of his amber orbs. And yet, she couldn't look away from him. She couldn't help but marvel at the sharp angles of his features, counting the small scars that adorned his skin as her eyes traveled down his face. Those were two traits that people normally found intimidating about him. He had the face of a reckless warrior, a lone wolf with no feelings that augured trouble. But she knew him better than that, she knew the man behind the rumors and knew there was much more to his story and his character. When she looked at him she saw more than the dangerous Witcher. She saw the man who had saved her from her terrible fate, the one she missed and longed for when he was far away, the only man who occupied her thoughts. 

Geralt's eyes strayed to her lips as she caressed them with her tongue. It was an innocent act but he felt it as a temptation, a challenge he had every intention of accepting. He leaned forward, feeling her warm, slightly quickened breath colliding and mingling with his own. He held still for a moment, waiting for her to pull back and move away. When she didn't, Geralt moved a little closer to her until he felt the tip of her nose brush against his. When he looked up one last time, he noticed that she was looking at him with half lidded eyes, completely at his mercy. She was in a trance, lost in the deep amber of his eyes, with no thought in her mind but him. It was the moment they had both been waiting for, the culmination of all the tension that had built up.

But before they could join their lips in the long-awaited kiss, the sound of the cat jumping on top of the table interrupted them. The animal's meow broke the trance and she realized what was about to happen. Embarrassed, she pulled away from Geralt immediately, mumbling something about feeding the cat as she disappeared from his vision. He would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed, still longing to feel her lips on his, but perhaps it was for the best. If he kissed her he would never want to stop or leave again, and he knew that wasn't possible. His place was out there on the road with his horse as his only companion. He was not meant to stay in one place for long, his profession had taken that privilege away from him long ago.

“Your wounds are almost healed.” She stated as she returned to the room, picking up the cat and setting it down off the table. It was an excuse so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye when talking, something to occupy herself so she wouldn't think about what had just happened.

"Guess I'll be leaving tonight then." He was in no hurry to leave, he would gladly stay another week there with her if he could, but he knew that wasn't wise. He could never stay too long with her since he always feared the effects it might have. The more time he spent with her, sharing moments of domestic intimacy, the harder it was for him to get back on the road. The last time he had been there he had ended up running away in the middle of the night, knowing he couldn't leave if he had to look her in the eye and say goodbye. And now he feared that nothing had changed, so he had to get out of there before it was too late.

"I would rather you stay one more night and rest here." She said in a soft tone, trying to hide the true meaning behind her words. She didn't want him to leave, not yet. "Your physical wounds might be healing fast but don't forget that you were poisoned and you almost died. Witcher or not, that's a lot." 

"I'll be fine."

"Maybe, but would it kill you to stay here one more night for my own sake? Because if you walk through that door now, I will spend the rest of my days worrying about you until I see you again." She finally worked up the courage to look at him, pleading with her eyes for him to listen to her. She knew that if he wanted to leave there was nothing she could do to stop him, so she hoped he would have mercy on her. "I just want to make sure that you're alright."

Geralt couldn't refuse her even if he wanted to, not when she was looking at him with big, bright eyes full of love. Not when her voice was almost a whisper, as if she was afraid he would hear her. He understood the feeling, the fear of admitting what he really felt. But it was easier that way. It was the best thing for both of them. Their lives were incompatible as were their personalities. 

She was a nice sunny summer afternoon and he was a harsh winter night. She was a ray of sunshine that with her warm touch awakened life in everything around her and he was the cold, cruel snow that buried everything under a layer of ice. Maybe that was why he felt this inexplicable attraction to her, as if they were connected by an invisible thread that pulled him to her every time he tried to walk away. Her warmth melted the ice around him, allowing new things to blossom in the fertile soil. Only he didn't know if there was anything left under the ice that could bloom. If so, he had to be careful because her warmth, though pleasant and comforting, could lead to his doom.

Still, he ignored his brain's warnings, giving in to her pleas. They spent the day together and Geralt allowed himself to lose himself in the intimacy and domestic bliss of the moment. He indulged in the fantasy of a life by her side as he admired her dancing around the kitchen while cooking or moving among the plants as she tended to her garden, talking to the squirrels and birds that wandered by. He delighted in the sound of her voice as she called his name and enjoyed her melodious laughter. 

When the sun went down, she lay beside him on the bed, talking nonsense until her eyelids began to feel heavy. She denied being sleepy several times, assuring him that she was just resting her eyes. Geralt snorted, but said nothing, listening intently to the story she was telling him about a deer she had saved from death between masked yawns. She didn't get to finish the story, not consciously at least. She mumbled a couple of almost inaudible gibberish before falling asleep, fighting her last battle against her body's need for rest.

Geralt watched her sleep for a good while, his eyes admiring the peace on her face in the dim candlelight. She had never looked so ethereal, with her hair spread out on the pillow like a halo around her head, and her chest rising and falling slowly with her calm breathing. Her skin was soft under his touch, a stark contrast to the roughness of his fingers bruised from all the fighting and constant use of the sword. She was the most beautiful piece of art, a sculpture carved by the gods themselves. He almost felt unworthy to be by her side, the softness of her features reminding him once again how different they were, how wrong his feelings were. 

He got out of bed with a heavy heart, searching for his things while being very careful not to make a sound so as not to alert her. He couldn't stay there one more night, if he woke up in the morning with her by his side he would never want to leave and he knew very well that it wouldn't end well. So, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, just a brush of his lips against her skin as a farewell.

Geralt disappeared into the darkness of the night without leaving any trace of his presence. When she opened her eyes the next morning she was disappointed to find herself alone in bed. She didn't have to leave the room to know he was gone, she could feel his absence in the air. She felt lonely and cold again, already missing the warmth that filled her whenever he was around. Letting out a tired sigh, she dropped into a chair near the door. Her eyes were glued to the wood, her mind filled with thoughts of Geralt. She wondered if he was alright and if he was missing her as much as she was missing him. 

And just like that, the cycle continued, his departure leading the way to the stage of uncertainty and worry that grew in her with each passing day as she awaited his return. Her eyes remained glued to the door at all times, her ears attentive to the sounds waiting to hear Roach's footsteps approaching in the distance. She hated this moment. She hated not hearing from Geralt. She hated not being able to hear his low, raspy voice or feel the warmth of his body against hers. She hated the amount of energy she wasted worrying about him. But most of all, she hated knowing that all her suffering would be worth it the moment he came knocking on her door again.

I have more ideas for these two so if you guys like it let me know!

PART 2 HERE

[campoverlook-if]

Welcome to Camp Overlook, Where We're Stronger Together!

DEMO LINK ll Updated: 4/26/24 ll Wordcount: 70k [W/O Code], 16k [Average]

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Secrets are all around you in the small town of Crescent Cove, and its local summer camp, Camp Overlook. A place where childhood memories mix with the unsettling realities of the unknown.

A place once known for freedom and friendship, is now shrouded in flickering lights crawling around the woods and campers vanishing into thin air. Far hidden in Hudson Forest is the truth of any person's most horrid nightmares.

As a counselor, you are entrusted with guiding a group of youngsters through their formative days of self-discovery as you grapple with the disturbing circumstances around you.

Whether you are a newbie or a returning former camper yourself, the secrets of the woods are still ominous and crippling. Among the cheer of camp, eerie events unfold before you.

Is Mr. Adams, the cheerful camp director, still a jolly man, or is there something now hidden beneath the surface? Is Crescent Cove, the quiet little mountain town, hiding a secret so great that it will do anything to keep it covered? Are the campers, lovable and rebellious, exhibiting behavior that goes against their nature?

Camp is supposed to fun, so why are you running for your life?

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Setting: Crescent Cove, USA (Fictional Small Town)

Genre(s): Horror, Mystery, Drama, Romance

Warning(s): This is an 18+ story for depictions of violence, death, sexual themes, and child endangerment.

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Customizable MC - Name, gender, appearance, sexuality, and personality are all choosable aspects to make your counselor.

Get To Know Your Little Campers - The kids look up to you at the end of the day and their relationships with you reflects on the story.

Discover The Mystery of Crescent Cove - Learn the truth on what exactly happened thirty years ago that changed a small town forever.

Find A Summer Lover - Choose from thirteen ROs all looking for someone to love. Maybe you’ll find more than just one...

Meet Your New Best Friends - Create lasting friendships that survive the test of time. Or lifetime rivals that are ready to hurt you at any chance.

The Camp Needs You - Save your friends and protect the camp, or watch it all disappear before your eyes.

Lucas [M] - The King of the Woods

Stuck up, arrogant, and just one half of an irritating duo. Lucas always has to have the last word and the last thing anyone needs is to hear him whine about not getting it. It doesn’t help that the staff like him, the liar. Just be sure to stay out of his way or else.

Asher [NB] - The Sleeping Angel

Completely checked out of life, or at least, that’s what Asher wants everyone to think. There’s just a little something more hiding under that quiet exterior but Asher isn’t the type of person to open up to just anyone. They’ve got demons in their closet, and they’ve come along to camp for the ride.

Jack/Jasmine [M/F] - The Wise Old Tree

If anybody can round up a group of rowdy kids and teens together its this counselor. Calm and collected, they're there when the situation loses control and everyone needs to be working together on the same page. But this personality wasn’t perfected over night and even the calmest of seas can swallow those around them below.

Ethan/Ella [M/F] - The Friend of None

What some may call everyone’s best friend, they're at this camp for one thing and one thing only. To make a summer that’ll last forever. Leader of the pack, they know how to get the populous together and have a good time. But even the party animal has to get tired at some point and it's those moments when the real them emerges.

Ruby [F] - The Little Red Hen

Soft-spoken, polite, and kind to a fault. Ruby is the person you want when you need a comforting hand. A true healer and guiding life even if she is a little shy around others. But all healers have a story, Ruby just doesn’t have the cure to make it all go away.

William/Willow [M/F] - The Undisguised Wolf

They say if you gaze into the abyss, it tends to gaze back and tells you what you’re made of. That’s how it feels when this quiet storm enters a room, the room grows cold and the fun dies out. No one knows what lurks behind those eyes, and no one knows for sure if they’re the eyes of a monster.

Oliver/Olivia [M/F] - The Two-Faced Lover

Excitable, sweet, just the happiest bubble around. Around most people at least. But really, they're just an actor who knows how to play their part. No one knows the real them and maybe that's starting to have a toll on them. But it’s not like they can suddenly do a 180 and show the world who they really are. At least that’s what they like to think.

.....and seven others to discover! (Character Bios Here)

[pinceauarcenciel]

My copy of the @fullsteamzine arrived and I’m in love with everything! Look at  all these cute merch aaaah (๑>∀<๑) And the zine is so cool too!

You can still grab some while leftover sales are open! (until Dec. 9) 🚀

[tciddaemina]

so i had a dream last night about a svsss bingqiu dating sim story set post-epilogue where Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe hadnt gotten together. idk how that would even be set up but like maybe they stopped Maigu ridge but didnt bone but its still revealed Binghe is into Shen Qingqiu, and now its in the peace afterwards where things have more or less gone back together and Shen Qingqiu has finished his sexuality crisis and decided he absolutely needs Binghe to rail him

and so its this situation of Shen Qingqiu in a dating sim, but his only romance route is Binghe and hes just trying to select the correct dialogue route to getting rawed over the nearest desk except he has no romantic experience except reading godawful stuff like PIDW and so he keeps fucking it up by saying the most unhinged shit, and it keeps making Binghe blush and run away or misunderstand him because hes so used to Shen Qingqiu being dense and misunderstanding all flirting that now that Shen Qingqiu is explicitly and deliberately trying to flirt with him he keeps explaining it away

and so Shen Qingqiu is like tearing out his hair and choosing increasingly more unhinged dialogue options and dressing in increasingly raunchy clothes to try and get Binghe to do something and its just like. 10000% pure crack

And its like

-

Shen Qingqiu sitting across from Binghe, the two them drinking wine together after dinner. The hour is late, the day stretching long and the two of them enjoying their rest after a day of endless meetings. The breeze is sweet with the scent of golden night jasmine, the candle light is dim and intimate.

Shen Qingqiu bites his tongue, an impatient itch running up his spine. It's a fine evening, but he can't enjoy it - all day it's felt like his nerves have been ground down to a find powder. All week, his nerves have been ground down. He just about tastes his impatience now, so thick its grown, its given a physical taste in his mouth.

He glances at the dialogue boxes hovering before him resentfully.

1. BOLD. "This master is tired of waiting. He has wanted Binghe too long." [Lean over and kiss him.]

2. EXTRA BOLD. [Let your actions speak for you! Start removing clothing and reach for him! Get it started!]

3. SUGGESTIVE. "Binghe has been a good boy. Why not allow this master to show his favor?" [Glance demurely at Binghe's crotch.]

4. SLY. "How have Binghe's energy levels been? Is he he still feeling unbalanced from Xin Mo? Perhaps this master can help..." [Offer dual cultivation.]

5. COP OUT. The weather is fine today, is it not?

And Binghe sits up, eyes softening, touched by Shen Qingqiu's concern. A soft ping rings out, an alert appearing in the corner of Shen Qingqiu's vision [+15 affection points]. Still, he appears a bit abashed, ducking his head.

"Ah, shizun need not worry. Mu-shishu has been taking care of this disciple - this disciple has been meditating each morning in the spiritual caves," Luo Binghe says, hurrying to reassure Shen Qingqiu and completely missing the point. "Shizun shouldn't concern himself - he has his own energies to worry about. Has Without A Cure been acting up again?"

Fuck Without A Cure!! Shen Qingqiu almost screams. This isn't about that! Tens of millions of words of Binghe fighting and fucking his way through the plot of PIDW, suave as anything, and yet here he can't see a flag being waved in front of his face! What next? Will Shen Qingqiu get out a flag and wave it, shouting Please fuck me??!!!

Binghe! Please be more conscientious of your poor master and think with your dick a little more!! Where is that insatiable lady-killer when you need him??? Shen Qingqiu is so frustrated he feels like he might spit blood! Please do something about it Binghe!!

Shen Qingqiu just smiles and inclines his head. "It has been manageable," he says, and tries a little harder, attempting to redirect the conversation. "Though... with our energies in such a state, perhaps we might find a way to help one another..." He looks at Binghe shyly over the top of his fan, lashes lowered. He bites his lip, a small thrill of shy anticipation running through him.

Binghe brightens, eyes clearing. He straightens. "Of course!" he says eagerly. "This disciple would be honored in taking over for Luo Qingge in balancing shizun's meridians each week! This disciple will ask Mu-shishu for a lesson on the proper way to circulate energies through the meridians of the wrist!"

So dense!! Shen Qingqiu's jaw twitches, and he almost throws his fan down onto the table. He smooths out his expression immediately, mask serene and implacable. "Ah," he says delicately, because fuck it, maybe he needs to be more explicit. "This master was perhaps thinking another way..."

And Binghe nods, realization washing over his face. "Of course," he says. "If human solutions are not working, but perhaps a demonic method-"

Yes! Like the divine pillar! Please fuck this master! Binghe is finally catching on!!!

"- the demon realm probably has entirely different healing practices and methods! Why have we never thought to look before? Maybe they will have something. Shizun, I will go immediately-"

"That wasn't quite what I-"

"Shizun is so wise! Wait for me shizun! I'll be back before you know it!"

-

Whoops there's a part 2.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #11 The Ice Prince

Imagine dis….

 The plot is always Clockwork reversing Danny’s age to a toddler’s or a child’s age to be found in the grimy alley of Gotham City, to fix a broken family, an overdue vacation, or is it because it was meant to be? But what if they found a child who is nothing more than a mere babe?

 …

 War has consequences whether you are on the right side or not, consequences will come up to you. Death, injury, sexual violence, hunger, disease, and disability are some of the most dangerous physical repercussions of war, while PTSD, despair, and anxiety are some of the emotional consequences.

 Danny experienced all, from the physical damages he had taken to protect his citizen to the emotional as well the phycological effects that will haunt his mind throughout his immortal life.

Jack and Maddie Scientists and the GIW had done it, waging war against the Infinite realms.

 Using ectoplasm, the very being that they have despised to use as weapons to aim and maim.

 Humans tend to hate and fear what they don’t understand.

 In this case, fear caused this war.

 Unlike in the history books whose wars started due to greedy politicians or even the thrill or greed to attain new land, this war was caused by fear.

 The fear of the unknown.

 At 16 years of age, Danny is crowned and alongside his trusted friends as well as his former enemy Vlad Masters all gathered their things and went back to the Infinite Realms to prepare for war.

 At 16 Danny witnessed the horrors as well witnessing the lines humans will cross to satisfy their greed.

 Each day that Danny is planning or even fighting alongside his friends, family, and even ex-rogues for their home and the universe’s and multiverse’s balance, he would feel the pain, sorrow, and sadness of each of his citizens who were captured or even used to be the battery to be used against their people.

 At 16 Danny watched his very own parents, Jack and Maddie, cut open their former best friend to better understand ghost biology all in the name of ecto- science.

 Danny saw the betrayal and grief as well Vlad’s vulnerable state on how Maddie, the kind and caring Maddie whom he fell in love with, do such cruel things to innocent blobs of ghosts, do such inhumane things to him. Cutting him open like a frog in a dissection table, using large hooks to keep the two skin that were cut to show his ribcage, apart to keep them from healing.

 At 16 Danny joined the war alongside Frostbite, Pandora, Dora, and many more. Even Dan and Dani had joined him on the front lines to fight their parents to fight their inventions, their creations, the agents...etc, as well as rescuing many, many ghosts who were captured before this war even started.

 The first one to fall was his beloved sister Jasmine No-Name, who captured and was taken to the basement at the household of the Fenton’s. Each scientist kept drawing blood and kept poking her with needles to “cure” their daughter from any form of ectoplasm possession or mind control. Despite being liminal she was still mortal, freeing the innocent ghosts that were cruelly captured and caged by their parents destroying the lab, taking the blueprints, the weapons, and even the portal at the cost of her own life.

 Brother and sister, together as friends, ready to face whatever life sends.

 Next, was Sam Manson, her mentor Undergrowth and her going to the annex side of the building to create a massive distraction for the rest of their allies to destroy this particular lab as the lab that they were about to destroy is a cornerstone of the ongoing battery flow between the agents thus making this mission top priority. Blood Blossoms were involved causing great pain to both ghosts, as the agents were getting closer, they heard the explosion in the direction of the targeted lab, they were successful, and now all that is left is to retreat. But the pain as well as their inability to move is impossible and even more impossible to fight off the remaining agents who were exclaiming and shouting about the destroyed lab. With what little strength Sam had left in her, she stood up and commanded the plants to rescue Undergrowth as without him nature and flora would have died alongside him. As she saw the silhouette of her mentor/ father she made her last stand as one of the few friends of Danny now her King.

 Last to fall is Tucker Foley, his best friend, leading an army made out of entirely Egyptian culture. Being the right hand of the High King as he led another attack towards their government not only did their government bury their heads in the sand, but instead of diplomacy they have chosen to continue this war. As they were fighting by each other side, Tucker noticed an agent creeping closer to his King/ friend whose head was turned and busy due to the number of agents that kept him busy and unguarded. Tucker Foley did what any friend would do in that situation; he took the bullet aimed fatally at his best friend. Danny seeing that his best friend had just turned limp released his ghostly wail that contains his anger, sadness, grief, and horror as he cradles the body of his best friend as he held his last breath in the arms of his King and friend.

 We’re more than friends but less than a couple

 The government was getting desperate as each day the “ghosts” kept pushing them into a corner as their numbers dwindle each second while the other side’s army kept growing each passing day.

 Didn’t you know, A cornered animal is almost as dangerous as a wounded one?

 A Nuke, they have created a nuke. A nuke that has the combination of Blood blossoms as good ectoplasm as fuel and weapon, that was aimed and trajected to the Infinite Realms.

 But, who spoiled their plans?

 Blobs of ghosts gathered at the hidden base of humans and set off the nuke at their base.

 Blobs that were rescued by Princess Jasmine of the Infinite Realms.

 They didn’t expect the aftermath of such a weapon.

 The shockwave didn’t just end their world’s dimension but it reached the Infinite Realms almost wiping them out, it wasn’t for their King, Danny, who took the brunt of the aftermath and shock to protect the Infinite Realms where his remaining family reside.

 As a result, his form and core almost crack at the mere pressure, and result, Clockwork as his last card to protect Danny from disappearing for eternity turned him into a baby whose age could be merely a month old.

 Now that horrid dimension was gone, permanently, it is now up to the ancients and ex-rouges as well the rest of his family to raise Danny to the best of their abilities as he, Danny Nightgale is the bridge as well the very representation between the two worlds.

 The yetis that have lived in Far Frozen went and found a perfect dimension that has ectoplasm for their young King’s ghost half and human needs for his human half.

 Building a small castle made out of ice in the deepest part of the Arctic region, complete with rooms as well as things that will keep their young King’s attention in case he ever be bored.

 …

 Between the time they thought of settling down in the new dimension, in the DC universe, it had been thousands of years since the ascension of the High King Phantom. For those who have participated in the war it has been only a few months while in DC it has been thousands of years, to the point each magician in the JLD and Shazam knew about King Phantom, his benevolence and mercy shows no bounds. King Phantom who was a ward of the Master of Time and defeated the Pariah Dark to end his tyranny.

 …

 Alarms blared throughout the base of the JL and everyone was at the edge of their seats seeing that the alarm originated from the Fortress of Solitude, the base of Superman containing all the knowledge from his planet Krypton.

…

 Superman alongside Batman flew to the Artic to find out who trespassed, Superman fears the knowledge of Krypton falling into the wrong hands.

 As they were searching around the Fortress of Solitude, they came across a castle made entirely out of ice, Superman tried to look through it but received a headache the moment he tried to use it.

 With no choice left, both Batman and Superman went inside the castle to investigate.

 Passing through a large double door greeted them a large spiral-shaped staircase with the finest designs out of ice. Decorations and sculptures that decorate each nook and cranny of the castle are made out of ice that has the finest details to be mistaken as the real things. The largest chandelier hangs above them that seems to sparkle each passing second due to the little sun that bounces off each glass/ice. That creates the illusion of twinkling stars.

 Hearing footsteps from afar made both Batman and Superman hide in the closet that contains the cleaning supplies, looking through the smallest of cracks, they saw ice-shaped people that have sculpted hair and eyes but no mouth or nose wearing maid and butler outfits carrying books, toys and large folded sheets of clothes.

 All going in the opposite direction of which they have hidden.

 After making sure that those footsteps were no longer heard both Batman and Superman got out of their hiding place and went further deep the castle to investigate further.

 As they are walking along the endless hallways, they suddenly heard a small humming of a tune coming from another large double door with designs of space and stars embedded on the door.

 Peeking through a cracked door there they saw two green-skinned humanoid creatures with dragon-like features looking down, cooing, and humming to something. Due to their large size, they couldn’t see what they were looking for but after a few minutes, one of the human-dragon people turned off the lights and revealed their large wings, gave a few flaps and flew out alongside their companion using the large windows made from the most beautiful stained glass as an exit.

 Making the coast clear Batman was the first to go inside the room while Superman looked for the switch to turn on the lights. Through his cowl, Batman tried to guess the room that their two unexpected guests could have.

 The moment Batman’s eyes adjusted due to the sudden light invading his sight they immediately flabbergasted at the room could be.

 A playroom, complete with safety mats and toys that are either made from ice or silk.

 Looking around there they saw at the very center, a crib made out of glaciers with a space-themed mobile that seemed to spin around above the crib while releasing, looking closer there they saw a few months old human children, if the physical appearance of the child could go by.

 Black hair with the faintest of freckles across his face accompanied by his light skin that can be mistaken as dead.

 Warped in the finest silks as blankets while wearing some sort of Greek clothing as a means to cover the child.

 Fearing that the child was dead Batman turned to Superman to silently ask whether the child has a heartbeat or not.

 Superman stated that the child has a heartbeat a bit slow for his life but a heartbeat none less.

 Superman picks up the child with the resolve to return to the JL base to give the child a full check-up as well as to return him to his rightful parents.

 Batman countered that the humanoid-dragon-like people could be his parents but before Superman could even counter his claim flaps of wings were heard from a distance.

 In a panic, both Superman and Batman fled the room unknowingly carrying the infant.

 …

 At the JL base, Batman is scolding Superman for taking what could be a human-like dragon people’s child. Superman may have countered that the child he was carrying has no features from either of the possible parent and could be a kidnapped infant from the earth so that those humanoid dragons could play house.

 The Green Lanterns try to look for any planet that could be the origin of those dragon people, while the rest of the League are split in siding with Superman or Batman.

 With each passing second the volume of their argument kept getting higher and higher thus waking the infant still on Superman’s arm.

 Blue eyes like the sky and ice greeted them as the infant yawned as of saying that they have disturbed his nap time.

 Flash who was vibrating on his skin to coo at the child immediately ran up to Superman to take the infant.

 But the moment Danny saw the faintest amount of electricity that was being emitted from the Flash immediately started to wail.

 Loud but not loud enough to level the JL base, every JL member present with enhanced hearing covered their ears instinctively due to the noise the unbearable noise.

 Batman immediately snatched the child from Superman’s arm and began calming the child.

 After calming down the infant till he is only whimpering a very pale Constantine, Dr. Fate and Zattana burst into the meeting room scanning each nook and cranny till their eyes landed on the child that was still whimpering in Batman’s arms.

 Constantine demanded why on earth they have a child from the Infinite Realms and began to panic.

 As Constantine was out of commission for panicking Dr, Fate explained what the Infinite Realms is.

 As they were about to get back the child to where the ice castle was located another alarm blared at the JL base.

 Cyborg who was immediately typing across the computer for further explanation as see whether they have another world-ending threat made them double take.

 A blue-skinned man whose hair is unbound by gravity and floats upwards as if it was flames accompanied by two more people.

 One who looks like a vampire removing the avoidance of the sun as well adding a blue tone to his skin. Another looks like a female version of the first one aside from the green eyes and dark skin tone.

Zattana stuttering asked herself in a whispering voice why on earth King Phantom is destroying government facilities alongside the Count Masters as well the Princess of the Infinite Realms in the human world.

 Each time they demolish a facility down to the dust and rubbles they began scanning the area for what?

 A clapping and sound removed them from the carnage shown on the screen and saw the infant still in Batman’s arms reaching toward the people on the screen.

 Constantine mumbled something and began looking at the screen and the infant, and started widening his eyes as if he had just connected the dots.

 A union between a human and a ghost are unheard of but the fact that no new life/ afterlife was introduced since Pariah Dark made every life/ ghost in the Realms are now precious.

 But the resemblance between King Phantom and the infant in Batman’s arms is uncanny and so Constantine reached a possible conclusion alongside Dr. Fate.

 Superman just kidnapped the child of King Phantom.

…

PS: If someone out there wanting to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so don’t forget to tag me though.

[cartyrs]

My piece for ReaperZine 2023!! I wonder who left Alan this bouquet..

I designed these stickers for the physical orders as well :))

If you missed ordering a physical zine, you can still buy a digital copy here! Flowers & all their meanings below cut :)

Alan's bouquet from Eric:

american cowslip “you are my divinity”

amaranth globe “immortality, unfading love”

peruvian heliotrope “devotion”

erica “love of solitude”

milkvetch “your presence softens my pain”

balm of gilead “cure, relief”

Stickers:

Alan & Eric

dandelion “faithful to thee”

Grell

red tulip “my feelings are true / passion, love, & lust”

Othello

white jasmine “love, beauty, purity”

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

ATLA

Divergence of Destiny by Fernandidilly_yo

This is his life now, here on this ship, serving tea with Uncle and the crew. Traveling the world and staying far, far away from the ongoing war.

The Jasmine Dragon is Zuko's home.

Meeting the Avatar does not change that.

It changes absolutely nothing.

(Until, inevitably, it does.)

Tea and Cakes by ghosteyes

Zuko is having trouble pretending he doesn't has a problem with food and through a series of field trips with friends, the gaang starts to pick up on that as well.

Wishful Thinking by mindbending

Right after Boiling Rock, Zuko found Sokka sprawled in his tent with a bouquet of red roses, and a ring of romantic candles, and one final rose set between his teeth. With the littlest twinge of envy, Zuko realized the entire display was for Suki.

The point is Sokka's flirting is about as subtle as a buffalo yak. To miss it, you’d have to be a complete and utter airhead.

Stranger Things

Down in a Dead Man's Town by holyfudgemonkeys (erraticallyinspired)

When Steve nearly runs over Will Byers on that fateful night in 1983, he doesn’t expect offering him a ride home would result in both of them being hunted into another dimension. Surviving there is hard. Adapting to normal life again is even harder. His old self settles like an ill-fitting suit, and there’s no room for nightmares and fear and his new bond with Will in it. As he struggles to find a new normal he can live with, Steve finds himself befriending a bunch of kids and maybe (definitely) falling in love with a local weed dealer.

BNHA

Overcome by redrobin1989

When Izuku accepted All Might's quirk, he never expected to feel this helpless again. Sitting in on the interrogation of a serial killer, he realizes that the past can't always be left behind. Sometimes it comes back and brings with it a body count.

One can either overcome the problem or yourself be overcome.

DC (Batfamily)

Conference Room 2B by motleyfam

And okay, fine, Tim can admit it: his parents paying off a school official to circumvent social services just to see him was sketchy at best—probably illegal at worst. They really shouldn’t have done it. Bruce and Alfred would be furious to find out that they had. Not to mention Jason, who would go absolutely apeshit.

But–

But it was also just really fucking sweet of them.

Tim hasn’t felt this loved, this cherished, this fought for and desired by his parents in years.

Doesn’t he at least owe it to them to hear them out?

(Three months into Tim’s foster placement with the Waynes, Jack and Janet Drake decide they want back into their son’s life.)

Another Mirror by byrambles

It’s over remarkably quickly. The winning Batman leaves the losing Batman on the floor, still and broken, and Superman moves quickly to tie that one up as Winning Batman turns away. Turns toward Damian.

His shoulders slump, and Damian feels numb. This is not his Batman.

Anton Syndrome by Anonymous

Tim's parents have been away for six months and counting—the longest he's ever been left alone at one time—and it's starting to have some unpleasant side effects. Luckily, he has a solution.

OR, the one where Tim attempts prostitution to cure his touch starvation. His plan goes wrong pretty much from step one, but it all works out for the better.

DC/Danny Phantom

I Just Wanna Talk by foldingfacets

John Constantine beat the system of life and death until it fully refused to touch him anymore, and when it did, it never went well. It was a fact that the League had come to terms with, or those that knew, anyways. None of Constantine’s past could explain the kid in fuzzy pajamas that was curled up on a chair in the Justice League’s control room asking for the elusive brit.

Danny had barely made it to high school graduation only to be thrust into dealing with the millennia of bullshit waiting ever so patiently for the King of the Infinite Realms to look at. The fact that there was a weird amount of paperwork filed regarding some dude named John Constantine that looked like the weirdest form of tax fraud he’d ever seen was puzzling, and his parents committed that regularly. He has no idea what the hell he’s looking at.

Alternately: Danny is the inter-dimensional personification of the IRS for Death and the Unliving, and he just has a couple questions.

[cosmicjoke]

Yashiro never owed it to Doumeki to Stay

I know I'm probably gonna' draw the ire of a lot of people by making this post, but fuck it. I'm too exhausted at some of the same, ridiculous rhetoric I see in this fandom, over and over, again and again, and I think it needs to be addressed.

A big part of my problem with the way people talk about what happened between Yashiro and Doumeki pre-time skip, and in particular, the harsh criticism I see lobbed at Yashiro specifically for what happened is that, underlying it, is this presumption that Yashiro ever owed Doumeki anything. The way Yashiro's rejection of Doumeki so often gets framed makes it seem as if Yashiro somehow owed himself to Doumeki, body and soul, and how dare he push Doumeki away. How dare he refuse his advances. As if Yashiro was some sort of possession that Doumeki alone had a claim to.

Because, see, no, Yashiro isn't an object to be attained. He isn't, to quote Jasmine from "Aladdin", a prize to be won. He's a human being, and his previous relationship with Doumeki was that of employer and employee. Yashiro never promised himself to Doumeki. He never made any sort of vow of faithfulness or assurances to him that he alone would be his only partner. He never even hinted at or implied that he wanted to be with Doumeki in any sort of romantic capacity.

And yet, we see so many people raging against Yashiro for rejecting Doumeki's advances, straight up accusing Yashiro of causing Doumeki "trauma" by pushing him away, as if Yashiro was somehow obligated to accept and receive those advances for the sake of Doumeki's own, mental health.

What the hell is Yashiro to these people, I wonder. Do they view him as the catalyst for Doumeki's journey toward mental health? Is he meant only to serve Doumeki in his journey toward self-discovery and self-affirmation?

The reasons for why Yashiro pushed Doumeki away rarely, if ever, get discussed. All we hear about is how Yashiro hurt Doumeki, and how he's now supposed to make it up to him by being magically cured of all his own mental illnesses and embrace Doumeki's sudden reappearance in his life with open arms, confessing his unwavering love and faithfulness to Doumeki alone.

Again, no. Yashiro never owed anything to Doumeki. He didn't owe him a relationship. He didn't owe him his faithfulness. He didn't owe him an acceptance of his advances.

Yashiro pushed Doumeki away because he was trying to protect both of them. He resorted to more and more extreme tactics as the story went on because Doumeki wouldn't stop pursuing him. Doumeki wouldn't take no for an answer, and that made Yashiro more and more desperate. That doesn't make the way Yashiro treated Doumeki right, but it also is important to understanding why Yashiro acted as he did. It wasn't out of malice. It wasn't out of an intent to harm Doumeki. It was out of fear for Doumeki's safety and out of an attempt to protect himself. Yashrio felt threatened by Doumeki's pursuit of him. Not physically, but from an emotional and mental standpoint. Doumeki's presence in his life at that particular time, and his particular way of treating Yashiro, caused Yashiro immense mental and emotional anguish and also undermined his very sense of self-identity. It was devastating to him. He told Doumeki no, and Doumeki didn't listen.

I don't think people want to acknowledge this reality, or take into account that it was wrong of Doumeki to keep pursuing Yashiro when Yashiro told him he didn't want him to. He had no claim on Yashiro. He had no right to intrude on his life without being invited in. Yashiro didn't owe himself to Doumeki in any way, even as a means of healing Doumeki's negative self-image.

And so you see, the way it still gets talked about post-time skip, as if Doumeki's cold-facade is entirely Yashiro's fault and, thus, the onus is on Yashiro to assuage Doumeki's fears of him running away again by confessing his feelings, continues to make the presumption that Yashiro ever owed it to Doumeki to stay in the first place.

He didn't.

I understand Doumeki's fear. I understand why he continues to act indifferent to Yashiro. I understand he's attempting to prevent Yashiro from running away again because he wants to be in a relationship with him. The problem with all of this is, Yashiro staying or leaving is entirely up to Yashiro himself. It's his body, and his life, and whether he wants to stay with Doumeki or not isn't up to Doumeki at all. And so Doumeki attempting to manipulate him into staying isn't the right way to approach the situation. It isn't right to try and trick Yashiro into staying with him.

Obviously, Yashiro wants to be with Doumeki. Obviously he's in love with him. But what I think a lot of people don't want to accept, or admit is that, ultimately, the choice needs to be Yashiro's alone, without any sort of manipulative tactic from Doumeki calculated to keep Yashiro at his side. Yashiro staying at Doumeki's side needs to be consensual on Yashiro's part, and right now, it's not. Right now, Doumeki is lying to Yashiro to keep him frozen in place, because Doumeki wants it. Because Doumeki wants Yashiro. Doumeki is going to have to come to understand, at some point, that the choice isn't his to make. It's Yashiro's.

I think, if he does realize that, and accepts it, that Yashiro should be the one who gets to decide whether he stays or leaves, he can then let go of his fear of Yashiro running away. And if he can let that fear go, then he can start being honest with Yashiro again. And I think Doumeki will be pleasantly surprised at the results if he does. Because Yashiro very obviously DOES want to stay with him. But he needs to be allowed by Doumeki to choose that for himself.