#ill stick to my ~magic~ ty

[cthulhusstepmom]

As promised here's a quick guide to the Fae lore I'm using in my Fae!Soap au, most of it is based on some folklore somewhere but there are parts that are exclusively my invention which I'll specify.

The fae are essentially immortal creatures that can split their time between our world and the Other World.

Things that repel fairies: wearing an article of clothing inside out, salt circles, some talismans, horseshoes(if the fae is of the Unseelie Court or has ill intent to your person), tying knots in your hair, etc

Some things depend on the type of Fae(regional differences, what court of Fae they are, where they stand in the hierarchy): most fae are repelled by bread but Scottish fairies love the stuff and accept it as preferred offerings, bells will chase off members of the Unseelie court as well as any Fae that harbors ill intentions towards you (Seelie fae will sometimes wear bells), compliments and gifts have a 50/50 chance of being an effective repellent.

They are beholden to the laws of hospitality, names, invitations etc

Never ever accept a gift from a fae as it is an invitation into your space and they will take full advantage of it.

Iron, specifically in a shape of significance, will protect you from the powers of the Fae and will repel their touch.

Unless I specifically strike it down it's pretty much all folklore accurate

From here down is all my own lore that I've made.

Now gifts in this universe, this little bit is entirely my own thing. (I didn't find much folklore about people wanting to bone the Good Neighbors beyond the occasional pretty boy stolen by a fairie queen). Gifts can be taken by the fae in question one of these ways: they'll find offense in it and leave you alone, they'll accept it as an offering and stick around(mostly in actual folklore this applies to Brownies in Scottish and Irish tradition), or (in specifically Soap's case because I don't think any other member of the Fae would ever allow a human to court them and homeboy is down bad) they'll take it as a courting gesture.

Fae courting is a rather understated affair, a gift is given and amiably received and then they're officially an item. It is highly unusual for most of the Fae to be monogamous and they'll usually drift from partner to partner during their long lives. It is somewhat more common for stricter monogamy to be observed among royalty and they'll more often choose one partner for life.

When Fae mate they essentially have a ton of sex and release magical energy into the world at large, this magic will latch onto a plant and develop the plant spirit into an autonomous fae spirit over time in a pseudo-gestational period. When the spirit of the new fae has fully matured, the magical energy that has been stored within the plant converts into their body and they are born as a functioning, if like basically a baby in most ways, adult. These new fae are sheltered in the Otherworld for the first several hundred years of their existence.

While they don't really die of old age or sickness there are a few things that can kill and injure them. Direct contact with Iron, severe physical wounds(getting shot in vital areas or having limbs removed), Bleach and some other chemicals, etc.

They are omnivores however they cannot process grains, preservatives, or cooked meat very well. They are immune to natural toxins though there are a few herbs that they find distasteful and avoid.

These are some of the major tenets and mainly just my specific lore, there's definitely more and if anyone has specific questions just shoot me an ask or a comment and I'll get you.

@cr4shposts

The reason the subtext is weird is because I completely made that part up lol

[msommers]

10, 18, 33 for elena and riya!

ty alana kees kees kess // 40 oc development questions

How open is your oc to trying new things? Are they the adventurous sort, or would they rather stay in their comfort zone? Why?

ELENA — i'd like to say that she's adventurous because she deserves the fun (all she does is work and then stay in her house lmfao), but i know in my heart that she's set up camp in that comfort zone of hers. it's because she already has to test the boundaries of her comfort regularly vis-à-vis certain social interactions, so once she's finished with that she likes to retreat to what she knows and feels secure in. most open to trying new foods, but nothing too wild or far removed from what she usually has. more amenable to trying new things if she's close to someone who is bringing up the idea(s) tbh. if she trusts them with everything else than she believes they'll have her best interest at heart and have faith in their thinking she'll enjoy something.

RIYA — opposite of miss angel there, riya is always down to try new things. constantly chasing new highs and looking for the Next Thing. she's the type of person who can't stick to a single hobby because she jumps around so much, eager to sink her teeth into whatever interest catches her eye. said new things can be anywhere on the scale of safe to dangerous and it usually doesn't take much convincing to have her agreeing to anybody's suggestions, if she's not the one to propose one first.

How does your oc fare in an emergency situation? Do they panic, do they freeze, do they take charge?

ELENA — she doesn't panic all that much when it comes to danger, there's a calmness and confidence in her during those times because she has faith that things will work out if she (and/or companions) use resources smartly. she's the ding dang daughter of pelor, giver of life and beacon of hope, and she strives to present those things herself, especially during emergencies. she isn't the one to turn to for a battle plan, but she's quick to helping others in need and relaying any information she deems important for reaching safety/peace

RIYA — unfortunately because of what a clown she is presently, she's more the type to charge in first and ask questions later. someone else can certainly take charge but she has already thrown herself forward, probably into combat if it's that sort of danger. only time she may panic is during a medical emergency because she has no idea what to do then, she hasn't done any reading and could never grasp that type of magic. she knows how to shoot lightning from her fingertips but couldn't heal a papercut with a gun to her head lmfao

How does your oc’s own perception of themselves compare to how other people see them? Is your oc aware that other people see them differently (if it’s different)?

ELENA — so here’s a thing about elena. i think that in her formative years there was some kind of encounter with somebody where they reacted poorly (not horribly, but they didn’t address it properly) to elena expressing hesitation about some task she was asked to do, and it formed this huge part of her character right then and there with the natural “oh I don’t like making people sad” response combining with “oh I just have to do this and they’ll be happy”. add that on top of all the other general pressures and anxieties of hers that i’ve talked about before, and it’s created this scenario where elena tries to only present The Sunblessed to everybody. because in her mind they want to see the glowing darling who will cure their illnesses, heal their wounds, support those in need, chase down their damn missing cat if that's the emergency of the day—they certainly don’t want to see the lady who gets nervous in crowds, struggles with insecurities and very very rarely thinks about how life could be different. there aren’t very many people who see her differently from how she presents herself because they’ll only see her for small amounts of time here and there, so they truly only see the sweet divine girl happy to be of service, but for the folk who spend time with and get to know her then they’ll start to put some pieces together. ((the pieces being yeah she positively loves what she does but she doesn’t know how to say No and needs to find some fun for herself somewhere.))

RIYA — unfortunately she thinks that she’s a goddess walking the earth and isn’t very subtle about it, everyone and their mama’s know that riya thinks she’s on top of the world and the hottest person in each room she’s in. and i mean like,,,she’s not Entirely wrong. she’s incredibly popular in her social circles (and the circle itself bc duh) and people love her because she is incredibly fun at events or outings and knows how to put on a great show, plus her confidence and teasing can be quite endearing. there are for sure people who aren’t fans though, the folk who find her cockiness grating and wish she’d just go back to the circle where she’s supposed to be. i think that she’s selectively aware of how people view her if i’m honest lmfao. if she cares about a person’s opinion then she’ll be more open to vibechecking their connection to her, but if it’s someone she doesn’t like or considers an enemy then she straight up doesn’t care. doesn’t waste her time considering it.

and this is all without considering how much of a spoiled, pampered brat she’s going to appear as to the grey wardens :)

[brutal-nemesis]

Inspired by this prompt from @nuttynutcycle

For you, @yet-another-heathen

Ingredients: referenced torture and branding, character death, it’s just very dark!!

Like most nights, it was cold. Cold, dark, and lonely.

Matt had never liked any of these things, but in the time since he’d been kidnapped, he’d come to appreciate them. Cold meant he wasn’t being burned. Dark meant he wasn’t in that horrible room with its sharp instruments. Lonely meant he wasn’t being hurt. Actively, at least. The bruises and cuts that seemed to cover every inch of him were a constant agony, and he really, really didn’t want to think about the throbbing burn on his face, curving initials that weren’t his own. 

He laid on the dirty mattress his captor had generously allowed him, struggling to find a position that was comfortable with the heavy metal collar around his throat. It was chained to a ring in the floor, and he could hardly sit up fully. He hadn’t been given a blanket or even a shirt, and it was all he could do to keep from shivering. As he was finally starting to drift off, Matt thought he heard an unfamiliar creak outside the room he was trapped in. Fear started to claw up his throat. Were they going to come drag him out for some midnight torment? He cowered in the corner as the door opened, but when he saw who was standing there, his jaw dropped.

Lily. It was Lily. His older sister, who he’d never thought he’d see again, had found him after all this time. A look of relief mixed with horror crossed her face when she saw him, and before he knew it she was on him, her arms wrapping him in a tight hug. It hurt terribly, but Matt didn’t care. For the first time in weeks, he felt safe. He felt like things were going to be okay.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to find you,” She whispered in his ear. All he managed in response was a quiet sob. She pulled back a bit, looking him up and down, tears forming in her eyes. “Oh Matty, what have they done to you? Let me see if I can-”

BANG!

One second.

One second his sister was looking him in the eye.

One second later she was slumped in his arms.

“Lily…?” Matt cautiously leaned her away from him, a horrible dread starting to form in his stomach. Her head flopped back, eyes open and glassy. Unseeing. Empty. Dark.

No.

A hand snaked around her throat.

No.

They pulled her away.

No-

Her body thumped onto the dirty floorboards unceremoniously.

No no no-

He reached for her.

No no Lily please you can’t leave me here all alone

The chain was too short, he couldn’t reach her, and she wouldn’t look at him.

“LILY!”

Why wouldn’t she look at him?!

“Lily…”

They stood in front of him. He couldn’t see her anymore. But she wasn’t looking at him.

"Oh sweetheart, was that someone you cared about?" they asked sympathetically, running their fingers through Matt’s hair as he sobbed. They crouched down and cupped his cheek, turning him to face them.

"Maybe it's time you learned your lesson about loving other people."

Lily wouldn’t look at him. 

And she never would again.

[tastyykpop]

Hiii Congrats on reaching the milestone💕💕love your blog btw!! Could you please do a Taeyong smut where he is kinda cold to her before but confesses after he becomes very jealous??

Hii ty so much u have no clue how much this means to me🥺

ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪᴅɪᴏᴛ

Pairings: tsundere!taeyong x reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: d/s themes, jealousy, possessiveness, marking, praising, a dash of spanking, fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex

I finished this at 4am so it's not edited 💔

"Lee Taeyong!!" You chased the dark haired boy down the side walk, never turning to look back as his name was called, "Wait for me please!"

He scoffed. Luckily you couldn't hear him. "What an annoying brat." Taeyong continued on, still ignoring you and your protests of him walking away.

Running as fast as you could to catch up was easier said then done. You held boba and your food from a nearby fast food restaurant in one hand, Taeyongs in another with your purse flopping against you. You wouldn't be in this situation if Taeyong scare you into holding his food for you, threatening you with a cold stare.

Yes, you and Taeyong are friends. It's odd because of how cold and almost rude he is with you, but you're somehow friends, at least you think you are. Some people say he's got a soft spot for you but you're not too sure anymore. One day hes calling you an idiot for not taking care of yourself and the next hes rolling his eyes at you and telling you to fuck off. Coming to the conclusion that maybe he only thinks of you as a friend, you started pushing him away recently and hung out with another friend of yours. Too bad because you may have had feelings for Taeyong too. Something about him made you want to stick around even though most of the time he didn't want you around.

"Goddammit Taeyong...wait up!"

As annoying as it was to be running with food and drinks in both hands, the most annoying part had to be the purse. It was big, heavy, and swayed with every step, bumping into your left arm ever millisecond. Why couldn't you just man up to Taeyong before?

"Bastard."

"Did you say something?"

"Huh- what!? When did you-" you tilted your head upwards to meet Taeyongs arched brow and impatient face. How did you not realize you caught up?

You pushed his food and drink into his chest and grumbled, "Here." And without waiting for Taeyong, you readjusted your purse and walked to your house with expectations that he would follow.

Taeyong frowned yet tailed you like a lost puppy.. He didn't have any plans catching up to you or telling you to wait for him and just admired you from behind. He liked the way your hair bounced over your shoulders with every step, the way your hips swayed as you walked. He even liked how long the skirt made your legs look even though you were tiny compared to him. Taeyong liked you without a doubt, but he wouldnt actually tell you that.

"Are you coming?" You opened the door to your house. Taeyong didn't answer, only pushing you out of the way and beelining it to the table where he placed his food and drink. "I'll take that as a yes..." you sigh.

Placing your food gently on the table, you sat across from the male who eyed you up and down but with no expression crossing his face.

"Y/n." Taeyongs stern voice startled you as you almost choked on a boba pearl. "Whats on your neck?"

"My neck?" Softly, you touched the side of your neck before realizing what he meant. Yesterday, that friend of yours that you've started hanging out with asked you to hang out. And little did you know, hanging out didn't mean just watching movies or joking around. It soon turned to small touches, then kissing, then making out. Before you knew it, he was kissing and sucking your neck, creating the purple mark that now painted your skin. "Oh...it's nothing. Just a bruise."

"What are you stupid? Your telling me you just happened to bruise your neck? Dumbass."

"Then why did you ask if you already know?" You mumbled.

As you took the biggest bite from your burger, Taeyong had to speak up again, "I hate it."

"Its a good thing it's not on you then isn't it."

"I think you would look better covered in my marks." His voice never faltered and you were sure he was joking. Taeyongs always been straight forward with you, but this seemed like a joke, it had to be a joke. Your mind was playing tricks on you and this is what you wanted to hear. It can't be real.

"You're kidding right...?"

"Completely serious."

"So you're...jealous?"

"Stop asking so many questions." He said coldly, shutting you up quickly, but the smirk on your face still lingered.

"I just think it's funny that a small mark on my neck could make someone as cold as you are, jealous." You say, confidence flowing out of you out of nowhere and this time, Taeyong went quiet. "Its cute."

"Cute? You know what's cute is me bending you over this table and fucking the life out of you so you only remember my name and who owns that cute ass."

Heat rose to your cheeks and the tips of your ears, and maybe Taeyong could tell but youre sure your face was starting to show a hint of red, "Now I know you're just bluffing."

Taeyong rolled his eyes, "Come here and shut that mouth, I'll show you I'm not." It had to be the way his voice growled that made you suddenly get out of your seat and stand before the man. It's easy for you to be flustered but it's also easy for you to obey someone that shows more dominance and Taeyong- well he was just overflowing with it.

"We're gonna have a little fun, yeah?" He smiled devishly, "You trust me right?"

"Y-yeah, I m-mean we are f-friends."

Suddenly, your body was bent over the table and your wrists were bound by Taeyongs hand. If you wanted to escape, Taeyong wouldn't let allow it, so you were locked in place.

God, the way this position impacted Taeyong to the point where he just wanted to fuck you all day and night. With your skirt barely hiding your pretty pink panties, he could easily get off by himself at the sight. He didn't need to do that though, he had you after all.

"Did he touch you?" You hear him say, voice low and frightening, enough to paralyze you from moving and speaking. But to his dismay you didn't answer. Moreover, hesitated to answer because of the tone he used. "I asked you a question." He growled, "Did. He. Touch. You."

A soothing hand ran up the sides of you skin, it was cold, almost like a vampires touch compared to your warm skin. "Y-yes."

Taeyong stopped, "Where?"

"Why does it matter?" You say, finding your confidence again though that won't last since your bent over the table with your ass in Taeyongs face.

"I dont want you to remember his touch, only mine. So I'll touch any place he touched." He continued touching where he could reach, the hand binding your wrists let up and rested on your ass as if about to spank you. "Now answer me."

You grumbled and arched your back as a way to tell Taeyong to shut up and fuck you. The pain of something not filling you up was unbearable, you even thought about slipping your fingers inside dripping cunt for relief. "Stop asking me questions and fuck me please."

"God you're so annoying." He spoke. "Im not going to fuck you until you tell me. It shouldnt be that hard since you're so confident." Taeyong pulled you up by your hair and forced you on his lap where your back was pressed against his chest. You couldnt look him in the face, too afraid that you'd break into a blabbering mess.

"H-he touched m-me," you grab Taeyongs hand with hesitation and placed it on your panties that covered your leaking hole, "here."

Almost positive Taeyong could feel your juices soaking through your panties, you pulled your hand away letting his own linger where you needed him most.

"What did he do when he touched you here?" His middle finger went along the slit of your cunt, dragging up and down gently.

"N-nothing."

He crooked his head before pushing your panties to the side and dipping two fingers in, "He didn't do this?" As you body arched into him, he was able to go deeper and finger you slow enough that you were sure it was teasing. And the pain of wanting to be filled up slowly disappeared but not enough.

"N-no, he d-didnt." As he began picking up speed, you cursed a threw your head back. You cried for more, struggling to stay still in his lap and his fingers worked magically inside you.

Taeyong loved every second of this. To finally see you melt in his arms literally when you could so easily turn him down for this. And he'd like to think he was the only one who could make you feel this way. Make you whimper and whine and call out to him for more. He was the only one for you.

"Please T-Taeyong, i want you to f-fuck me so bad," with a third finger slipping inside you, you moaned uncontrollably at the pace. Though you weren't stuffed like you would be with his dick, it was obvious Taeyong knew how to work his fingers to make you act this way. "Please, please, please..."

"Where else did he touch you?" He ignored your please.

It irked you how he didn't bat an eyelash at your desperate self. If you had your confidence again, you would have taken his dick out and sat on it without a question, even so you knew Taeyong wouldn't allow it just yet. He wanted you to fall apart before he even started.

"Mmm Taeyong-" you moaned with content as his fingers curved against your walls, "H-He touched m-my ch-chest."

Taeyong bit the inside of his cheek trying to hide the smirk that formed, "Guess ill just do the same." His free hand worked its way to your mounds where he proceeded to grope you and brush over your sensitive buds. The combination of his fingers inside you and his hands fondling your boobs was sure to bring your to an orgasm soon.

"Youre so beautiful." Taeyong mumbles into your ear, "so fucking perfect."

As carefully as can be, his fingers pulled out of you as a string of your slick connected to his three fingers.

So delicious, Taeyong thought, everything about you was so delicious.

You were flipped around so you faced Taeyong. This time, you didn't look away from him or hide your face from him. Instead, you maintained eye contact with the pretty boy below you before you suddenly pulled him into a desperate and needy kiss.

His heart beat faster than before. His ears burning as his face was flushed. You kissed him. You, the girl that he's been crushing on for years finally kissed him. It only took his jealousy to make this all happen.

"You don't understand how much I love you," he unbuckled his belt, "I cherish every minute and every second I spend with you," soon his pants were unbuttoned, "I can't stand seeing you with someone else," He slipped his dick inside of you with ease, a moan falling from both of you, "Even if you don't love me back, I still fucking do."

You couldnt find words to speak. Your mind was running but not thinking. If you spoke, you weren't sure if it'd be babbling or moaning because of how hard Taeyong fucked up into you. "I-i lo-" No, you couldnt say it back, not while being fucked into a whole new galaxy.

Taeyong on the other hand, was anxious yet pounded into you, enough to bring tears to your eyes. He wanted you to speak, he wanted to hear those three words come out of your mouth, but all he got was your adorable moans and sighs. Yet he wasn't complaining, they sounded lovely apart from the skin against skin. He's just overthinking.

"Youre doing so well, baby." His voice slowly fading, you were so lost in the feeling that anything Taeyong said, went out the other ear.

"F-feels so g-good. Want m-more..." Your greedy hands tugged at Taeyongs locks, but you weren't the only one being touchy. Taeyong was also kneading the plush skin of your ass, giving small taps before digging his nails in, making you whimper.

"Youre so needy baby, huh? So cute and needy for me." He slapped your ass playfully. The smirk on his face was evident that he loved every second of this.

"F-fuck yes, i-im so needy f-for you." You cry, "Youre t-the only one who c-can make me f-feel t-this good."

Of course he is. And Taeyong couldn't be any happier hearing that from you. It gave him energy to fuck harder while now holding your hips still like you were his personal toy. You struggled with keeping the hold on his hair. Your light tugs now harsh pulls but Taeyong didn't mind, in fact he liked how his head was forced to look at your beautiful face.

"Pretty girl." He leaned over the slightest bit and sucked on your necks sweet skin as you tried bouncing on his cock along with him thrusting up. "How much do you love this cock?" He questioned against your neck.

"S-so so much, Taeyong!" Your hips stutter and you know youre close but refuse to faulter, "Y-you h-have the best c-cock."

Taeyong moved back from your neck and grabbed your chin, "Are you ever going to let that guy touch you like that again after this?" You shook your head quickly. "Good girl."

"Im g-gonna cum." You say and without a single thought or word, your body shook as pleasure washed before you. Still, though Taeyong was on the edge of cumming himself, he kept the quick pace from before. But you were so sensitive from the orgasm, and even started screaming Taeyongs name. It wasn't pain, but pleasure, very sensitive pleasure that could easily make you cum a second time.

Seconds before you were about to feel another wave, Taeyong shot his seed deep into you, thrusting slowly as he came down from his high.

"D-did you mean what you said?" Taeyong breathes heavily and raises his brow in question, "About you loving me."

"Duh. I love you, idiot. I wouldn't say that if I didn't mean it." He rolled his eyes. That's the Taeyong you knew. "And what about you? Are you gonna say something or leave me hanging."

"I l-love you t-too." You say quickly. "I mean it."

Taeyong smiles a real smile before patting your head like a puppy and lifting you off his dick, "Lets get you cleaned up, baby, then we can talk about planning a date."

"A date??"

"Mhm," he smirked, "but not after a round two."

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter One

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 2.6k → click here for the next part !

Shock-waves of terror rush through your body. You can feel your heart thump erratically against your chest and your train of thought is a complete mess. All you know for sure is that your fate is certain, you're going to die. The illegitimate daughter of the Rambova family from the Negri Republic is going to be killed and it just so unfortunately happens to be you. Your eyes are coated in a fresh layer of tears and all you can do is sit there huddled in the corner of your room whilst you pray. Pray to who exactly? You're unsure of that detail.

The days of pain and neglect that you constantly endured ended with the war caused by a single man. That man who was rumored to be cruel enough to murder the child of another enemy noble in cold blood. The Duke of the Paradis Empire. Levi Ackerman. By the emperor's orders he took an army to conquer all of the rebelling, independent countries which surrounded Paradis, and unfortunately for you the Negri republic was one of them.

Soon, the Rambova family was the last of the nobles left within the nation.

"Y/N. Even a little pest like you has a role to play. You must stay back and protect the castle." that was the first and last thing your father said to you when news of the war spread. Your father threw you away and so did the rest of your household. Not even a thank you was issued when they all dashed past you towards the palace's back gates. Truth be told you were simply a child born out of convenience, born to marry another aristocrat to strengthen the family's reputation, but the war made you see your position with even more clarity.

No one ever loved you in this palace, it would be futile for you to say they did, lying would not ease the numbing ache in your heart.

"SEARCH EVERY NOOK AND CRANNY!" One of Duke Ackerman's men alerts the other soldiers and that's when you begin to shiver in pure terror. The shrill screams of the palace maids can be heard and are more than audible, they echo back and forth, settling in the shells of your ears. You really are going to die today and no one's going to save you. Who would? The servants who laughed at you because of your shameful origin? Those servants seem to be at deaths door themselves, you don't hold anything against them. Or would it be your "family" who treated you like the dirt beneath the crevices of their shoes? That "family" had ditched you and left you for dead in the palace. Duke Ackerman was a wild animal and you were a piece of bait to everyone else. No one was going to help you and this was the end of the line.

You gaze out your window and see even more of his army approach. There's not enough time for you to run, even if you attempt to do so you'll be killed in no time at all. Your mother's words echo in your mind. No one was willing to keep her around. A toy, that's what she was for your father, a play thing on the sidelines for when his real wife wasn't well. A few years after giving birth to you mother had fell gravely ill but father did nothing to help. The money needed for her treatment wouldn't have even made a dent in his riches but he did not see it fit to spend such a large sum on the likes of her. He wasn't going to help a courtesan who refused to abort what he deemed a nuisance. That's what you and your mother were - problems, issues, nuisances and inconveniences he wanted nothing to do with.

But right now all you can think about are her last words. They ring in your head and you feel your tears creep right back up. However, they subside when you take the true meaning in.

"Listen carefully, when the grim reaper comes for you, act proudly and look him in the eye without fear. You must do so for me." the one time you had seen her force a smile was then, on her death bed she had smiled so daintily it felt fake. Why did she have to act strong even in her last moments? Why did she have to try her damnedest to hide her pain and suffering from you?

Without a seconds thought you decide to follow her last instructions and what she taught you. Deciding to look death in the eyes, it's the way your mother wanted you to leave. To die proud of yourself was a privilege she never received.

Shakily, you walk towards your dresser and throw on your best dress. It isn't amazing considering the fact that your father barely invested any time in you let alone any money but you made do with it. Tying the faded baby blue ribbon that came with it around your waist you play around with the frilled sleeves. Screams are all you can hear but you swallow away your fear. Putting your hair up into a bun and pinning it back as tightly as you can, your face is in full view now, you won't be able to hide behind your hair when you're finally taken away.

With faith and hope in your heart, that is how you choose to exit. Faith that after this something better was coming. An after life with mother, one where she would be treated the way she deserved. A place where you'd be able to see her smile in sincere clarity. As you stick the last pin into your hair the door to your bedroom rumbles. It takes a matter of seconds for it to be knocked down by three soldiers.

Two of them march towards you and yank you away from where you are in front of your mirror, in the chaos a vase full of flowers shatters and hits the floor. The sound of the glass shattering and hitting the marble floor only makes the situation more intimidating.

The soldiers drag you through the hallways of the castle and the way they grip tightly onto your arms irks you slightly. They're quite literally dragging you towards the slaughter house yet they continue to handle you and the other innocent people within the palace's walls with this degree of brute force. You know you don't deserve to die, nobody here does.

At some point you're thrown to the floor of the main hall, a pain shoots up your side due to the impact of your hip hitting the floor but you soldier through it. You try to look death in the eye but it beats you to it.

Multiple bloody corpses are scattered across the floor. A heap of them are piled up in one corner and your eyes water in defense. The Palace's head chef is one of the latest additions to this pile, her guts hang out, she's been sliced open mercilessly. The contrast between her current form and her usual stern but soft face haunts you.

This was your fate, your body was going to be hauled atop of this pile of corpses. How were you to die? Would you be cut up into bite sized pieces? Would your heart be ripped out of your chest, left to bleed out until you and death would meet?

You place your hands in front of you and they land on the floor as you raggedly breathe in and out trying to calm yourself down. Mother said death was scary but you never thought death would be delivered to you in the form of cold blooded murder.

Your haphazard thoughts are suddenly put to a halt when you hear a deep, gravely voice from above your head.

"Child of the Rambova Family." He pauses and your head shoots up to see who's addressing you.

Shaking once again the tears you've been holding back spill out. You are face to face with death himself, the grim reaper in human form. Duke Ackerman. His feline eyes are devoid of any emotion and he looks down at you through his eyelashes as though you're an animal.

Looking you up and down as if you're nothing but a pest you can't help but smile at that. Everyone thought of you that way, you weren't ever good for anything right? Your thoughts make you wallow in even more sadness and you burst into an extensive crying fit in front of the Duke himself.

He murmurs something inaudible under his breath then you see him swing his leg backwards. He savagely kicks your left shoulder and you fly towards the cold hard floor."You're oh so, stupid."  Shrieking, as his boot drives further into you, the lump in your throat hardens. "For not." another kick is delivered to you this time, it hits your right shoulder angularly. "Running away." a final kick lands on the left side of your face and despite his boots digging into the hollows of your cheeks you don't cry out in pain like you did the first time. That is until he swiftly holds you by the neck and firmly slams you up against one of the marble walls to perfectly punctuate his point. Letting go of you midway, you crash to the ground again, gulping and gasping for air.

His eyes. They're stone cold. You can't sense any emotion behind him. Yet he kneels down to your level his slim fingers trace the tear stains across your cheeks. The coarse but warm texture of his hand catches you off guard, you aren't accustomed to human touch and by reflex you unintentionally move slightly closer to his warm palm. He sneers at you absolutely disgusted with the way you react to his touch.

"It's a shame that you're objectively my kind of woman." His eyes snake towards the ribbon which cinches your waist in and the tension you feel increases ten fold. His gaze then meanders to your collarbone which is now crudely exposed after your one sided fight. His eyes darken "What a shame indeed." He mutters.

You begin to think that maybe the man above you has some pity left in his heart and you reach your hand out to possibly negotiate but before you can the fatal sound of him unsheathing his sword is heard.

Not even a knife can cut the tension in the air but somehow the words he shamelessly announce next manage to do just that.

"I shall give you the honor of having me personally see to your death."

Your life flashes before you eyes. He darts towards you and the cold edge of his sword is as close as it can be to your neck.

Don't close your eyes, Don't close your eyes. Look him in the eyes for the sake of mother.

Defiantly, you glare at him through the tears which mingle with the perspiration which coats your face. The tears rain down your cheeks and a droplet lands on his hand.

He flinches at the damp feeling but you see the grip he has on his handle harden.

You hadn't noticed in the previous frenzy and chaos but he's covered head to toe in blood, the ugly sight causes you to try and hold in your external reaction. But you can't fight away the tears, you clamp down on your lips so tightly that blood gradually trickles down your chin.

There were so many activities you wanted to try. You wanted to wear a beautiful dress, you wanted to fall in love, you wanted to marry, you wanted to see the world and all it had to offer. You wish as hard as you can for some sort of help some sort of release. You feel terrible because you aren't facing death in the eye. You aren't proud, you've betrayed your mother. Your blood and tears mix together and you swear you see a glint of something from the corner of your eye, but that's not the issue right now. You're about to die. This is real. This is all real.

You watch in fear as he swings his blade above his head preparing to end it all, right here, right now but suddenly a flash of white light illuminates your surroundings, you and the Duke are both momentarily blinded by it. The light morphs into an intricately beautiful symbol. Then, the clatter of his sword falling to the floor is heard. Your thoughts race, what on Earth is going on? At that moment a streak of light pierces through Duke Ackerman's chest and he groans in pain.

Pulsing from the pattern is a strange, bright light. You watch it flicker, changing colors from silver, to a misty white, then it suddenly weaves itself into a sky blue. You clench your fists, your nails digging deeper into your palms. Threads of silver then engulf both you and the Duke. You both become a part of the stunning floral designs. It's whimsical being trapped inside the kaleidoscope of colour, it's all so beautifully horrifying.

Out of nowhere both you and the Duke are flinged to the floor and the performance evaporates away. Curled up in a ball you're far too fearful to look up and see what has happened. You hear his voice again.

"My lady, please forgive me for my rudeness." The Duke murmurs his words and you can't make out whether or not he's being condescending or is genuinely apologetic.

Then he does the unthinkable, he falls down on one knee.

"And please allow me to receive the pleasure of marrying you." He sticks his hand out gracefully expecting you to hold it but you stare at him in pure horror.

"From the moment I saw you my heart was simple ensnared by your beauty." He holds onto your cheek affectionately, it feels different this time, you can feel the love practically spill out of his voice and touch but you're ultimately confused. He can't possibly love you, you're strangers. Oh, and he did try to decapitate you a few seconds ago.

His eyes are the definition of infatuation, they seem to glint with happiness even in the dimly lit hall and you have no idea what to say to this sudden confession. You don't even know where this confession has come from.

Then realization dawns on you.

It does sound impossible but it's really the only thing you can find remotely believable at this point.

Has someone perhaps cast a spell on the Duke? And is that someone, you?

You stare at his hand apprehensively and you know you've got no other choice. Even if he is joking and ridiculing you, at least you know you've tried to not fall directly into death's expectant hands.

"I...am yet to except. However, I shall give you a fair trial to court me." You awkwardly agree and place your shaky palm into this hoping he isn't fooling around. Much to your relief he isn't, you witness the man's eyes soften as he faintly kisses your knuckle.

Your surroundings are a landscape of dead bodies, you want to jerk your hand away from the monster in front of you, but your goal is survival.

Thinking about what exactly you have got yourself into, it doesn't seem to be pretty at all.

[mommymooze]

A Lesson in Beekeeping

Claude x reader

Warning: bee sex discussed. Honeybees. Bee Stings. The noble worker bee giving up her life for the hive

  Today is a free day. Free from classes and studying and homework. Everyone needs time to themselves to relax and do what interests them. You’re deep in the woods near the monastery, collecting plants, seeds, flowers and mushrooms. Your restful time alone is interrupted as Claude, your house leader, has found you.

“What’s a little girl like you doing out in the dark spooky woods? You better watch out for big bad wolves!” Claude laughs.

“I’m not Lys. This isn’t frightening.  The higher altitude and specific climate divergence varies greatly from what I am accustomed to, as well as the flora has specific diverse qualities that interest me.”

“No need to go all Linhardt on me.” The dark haired male backpedals.

“New place, new plants.” You translate.

“You’re not going to complain about being called little?” Claude elbows you, digging for a reaction.

You roll your eyes. “My stature is undisputed. 95% of the student body is taller than I am. As time passes, the percentage pullulates.”

“So now what am I going to pick on?” Claude shrugs.

“Your pants, most likely, you’re standing amongst cockleburs.” You grin.

Pulling your notebook out, you scribble something on a page, stuffing a few leaves in the book before you return it to your pocket.

The next day, Professor Byleth makes an announcement to the class. “The kitchen is in need of anyone who is familiar with collecting honey or bees.” She continues to read the note and frowns. “Honeybuns no longer available in the kitchen.” She looks panicked.

Dorothea, recently recruited into the house raises her hand. “Ferdinand is much like a bee, send him!”

You raise your hand. “I will assist.” You do not mind missing the afternoon class for weapons training and maintenance, since you are a mage, it does not interest you.

“I’ll give it a shot.” Claude throws his hat into the ring.

“You guys are creepy, wanting to play with bugs.” Lysithia snipes.

Class ends and everyone heads out for lunch. Byleth thanks you and Claude for saving the honey buns.

You finish lunch quickly and head to the back entrance of the Kitchens. Martha greets you and hands you a few buckets and sharp knives. They don’t really have the beekeeping equipment, the keeper left suddenly due to his mother becoming ill.

“Looks like we’re going to have to improvise.” You groan.

“To be honest, I’ve never done this before. Always willing to learn something new though.” Claude confesses.

You frown at him. “You’re just curious because their stings contain poison.”

Claude looks away.

You run over to the Golden Deer lunch table. “Professor, we’re going to need assistance gathering equipment together. I’m going to leave the buckets and knives here, if anyone can add to it bring it here. Dorothea, do you have any stiff wide brimmed hats? I need 2. Leonie, can you bring some scissors, needles, thread and thick twine string or cord. Going to need about 3-4 meters. Does anyone have any thick extra leather gloves? Especially if you don’t want them back because they are going to get messy. A pair for me and a pair for Claude. We also need 2 white long sleeved shirts. Ignatz, if you have a spare that would be wonderful. Need one for Claude too unless he has one.”

You run off to the marketplace to find some dark black diamond netting with the smallest holes you could find. Back at the dining hall the Deer have done the deed and all needed items are acquired.

You create a beekeepers veil from the hat, stitching the netting around the brim of each hat. Wearing the long sleeved shirt you put the hat on, then tie the hat itself on with it’s ribbons so it won’t fall off when you bend over. Then you tie the string over the veil around your neck so that the string goes under the collar of the shirt. Putting on the gloves, you stuff the cuffs inside then wrap the open end of the gloves shut with gauze, pinning then tying it with more string.  At the bottom of your pants you tie them around your ankles keeping them close over your socks. You take extra string and wrap them around bundles of semi dry weeds you pilfered from the compost pile.

You are ready for the battle of the bees.

“How do you know all this?” Claude asks as you head out around the walls of the monastery. The bees are located around the back by the fruit trees.

“Grew up a farmer. Brothers wrangled the larger animals. I was stuck with smaller ones. Chickens, ducks, geese, rabbits and bees. Need bees to pollenate fruit trees.”

“An expert on the birds and bees. Got it!” Claude grins.

“Have you ever been stung by a honeybee?” You ask him.

“Dunno. I’ve been stung by all kinds of bees. Black ones, yellow and black, black and white.” He shrugs.

“Claude! Just like every four legged animal is not just a horse, every flying insect is not necessarily a bee!!” You chastise him. “Honeybees are mostly non-threatening unless you are invading their home or disturb them while they gather nectar.” You stop at a nearby flowering bush. “This bush has all sorts of insects on it.” You take the sharp knife and point at a few different ones identifying them. Bluebottle fly, paper wasp, hornet, sweat bee, carpenter bee, bumblebee and finally honey bee.

“Most of the stinging insects have a sharp, smooth, pointy stinger, like Felix’s sword. The honeybee has a barb at the end of its stinger. Think of Byleth’s fishhook. The smooth stingers, can sting multiple times each putting a little poison in. Honeybees, when they sting, their barb gets stuck in your skin, and it rips off their stinger. When the stinger rips out, the poison sac comes along with it. The bee then dies, they are literally giving their life protecting their homes. Never use your fingers to grab the stinger to remove it, you are squeezing more poison into you. Scrape it off with the blade of the knife.”

“Good to know.” The archer nods.

“We are headed out to work on the bees. As soon as you notice you have been stung, we move away and make sure it won’t kill you. If it itches or swells a little, that’s normal. If you swell up to 10 times your normal size and stop breathing, you’re allergic.” You warn.

“Understood.” The Deer’s leaderman nods.

  At the middle of the orchards are several different tables and boxes.  You put the knife and bucket on the table. Inside of the boxes, with the front completely open, are what look like upside down baskets. They have a small hole in front that the bees are going in and out of at a fast rate.

“First we need smoke.” You instruct, taking out a bundle of semi dry weeds, lighting the ends with fire magic until most of the ends catch fire, then you blow the fire out. The weeds give off lots of smoke.

You tell Claude to wait by the table. You quickly go in front of a hive and lift it, pulling it out of the boxlike shelf and placing it on the table. You lift the hive pulling it to the edge of the table and let the smoke go into the hive for 30 seconds or so.

“Smoke gives the bees something to do besides chase you. When bees smell smoke, they think there is a fire in the hive. That means they have to grab what they can and get ready to leave. The bees are filling their stomachs as fast as they can and will fly off when the heat is too much.  Another benefit of this is the bees will have a full stomach and are less likely to sting you. The bee has to curl its body to the front of it to sting you, like bending itself into a letter C. That is much harder to do when its gut is full, less likely to sting.”

You look underneath again There are several rows of beeswax combs hanging down with bees crawling all over them many bees face first into cells eating. You squat down low so you can look up into the hive. The white beeswax comb on the outside looks like it is empty, the next section of comb looks like it has some nectar or honey in it, and the one after that looks like it is fat with honey that has been covered over by the bees.

“Ok. This is a skep, we try to get bees to build their hives in them. It is thick rope that is bound together in sort of a bell or upside down pot shape. The bees start at the top and attach wax to the top, then create these combs. The combs are built hexagonal cells on each side at the tiniest bit of an angle, facing up in a wide V shape. That is so they can put nectar in it and fill it almost half way. Once the nectar is in, other bees will evaporate the water from the nectar by fanning their wings. Once enough water is evaporated, it turns the nectar to honey. Once it is the right thickness they fill the cell up completely, then bees cover it with wax to preserve it. Then we steal it.”

You stick the knife between the ropes of the skep. You cut through the beeswax at the top and sides of the third comb from the left until it comes loose in your hands. Gently, so gently, you pull it out from the hive. It has some bees on it, but most of them stay inside the hive.

“Honeycomb is made from wax that the bees shed off their bodies. They chew it until soft and build these perfectly symmetrical 6 sided cells. Notice the bottom of the cells on this side matches with where 3 cells come together on the other side. Makes it super strong. This honey is heavy, at least 15 pounds on this one chunk alone. We only want to take honey, and the honey should be covered by wax.”

You tilt the comb to the right and some liquid runs out of a few cells.

“Too watery. Bees didn’t cover it and won’t until it evaporates more. Whatever spills the bees will collect and put into their hive again.”

There is about 16 centimeters of comb at the bottom where there is nectar not covered or just empty. You cut this from the rest of the honeycomb, placing the capped comb in the bucket.

You take the part that is cut off and hold it to the light.

“Sometimes you can see eggs in the bottom of the combs that do not have nectar in them, those are bees of the future. I am not wasting this. I’m going to melt the wax at the cut and put it back where I took the other part out.

Squatting under the hive, you summon magical flames, melting all along the cut edge of the wax and nectar, sticking it into the space you took the top of it from. Holding it up there you wait a bit for the wax to cool and it sticks. You leave the next couple combs alone, looking at the opposite side. You don’t want to disturb the queen or babies. The bees keep their spare honey to the sides of the nest where the queen is laying eggs. You decide to cut another chunk out. Gently taking it out you bring it to the table. There is capped honey about half way down. Then the honey stops and there is different colored darker stuff in the combs.

“The top is capped honey. Bees make it to feed the babies and feed themselves, especially in winter. Next they gather pollen. They even sort it keeping the types of pollen together. Grass, clover, ash, oak, maple, sunflower, if it has pollen bees take it. Heavy protein in pollen. They sort honey too. You’ll see all kinds of colors. Really light colored honey in the spring. Darker honey in the fall. Anyway, cells lower than that is where the queen lays the eggs. When the eggs hatch they look like larvae, you know, the stuff Teach fishes with. The bees feed the larvae honey and pollen. It grows and fills the cell. Once it is big enough it spins a cocoon, the adult bees cover them with wax. They pupate and turn into adult bees, chewing their way out and going to work in the hive.

You continue working as you harvest more honeycomb and try not to destroy any of the hard work of the bees by putting what comb you can back inside the skeps.

“I gotta know. Tell me about bee sex. Everyone talks about the birds and the bees.” Claude grins.

“There are 3 castes of bees. The queen. The worker. The drone. There is one queen in a hive. She is the only female that mates. She mates for maybe 7-10 days of her life, maybe 12 to 16 times. Spends the rest of her life laying eggs. Her body is the longest/biggest in the hive, her abdomen is quite large, swollen with eggs. It sticks out much farther than her wings. Next are the female workers. That accounts for 90% more or less of the population. They gather the nectar, bring it back, put it in the cells, dehydrate it, make wax, build cells, protect the hive, guard the hive, get rid of the dead, feed the queen, clean the queen, pollenate the flowers, collect the pollen and 100 other jobs. If there is work to be done they do it. They have the stingers that sting to protect the hive. Queens have stingers too, but theirs are smooth. They fight other queens, nothing else. That is why there is only one.“

“We can’t’ forget the drones, the males. They have no stinger. They do no work. They contribute nothing to the hive except for the queens genes. They don’t pollenate. Their only purpose is to go out and find a virgin or recently virgin queen to mate with. They mate while flying in the air. The drones hang out in an area looking for their lady love. Their eyes make up 80% or more of their head, go almost all the way around it. Once they see a queen, they fly after her. She flies high and fast and whoever catches her first gets her. He sticks his male part into her female part. Upon his entry, his part breaks off, and he falls to his death. She goes out again for more. Bees don’t mate with their relatives, each has their own smell. So they spread their genes around. “

“Gah!” Claude slaps his arm. “They got me!”

“Get over there by the wall and sit down!” You order him, quickly finishing what you were doing, then rushing to Claude’s side, away from the bees you take off your hat and veil putting your ear to his chest to listen. His heart sounds pretty normal. Breathing sounds good

“Where is the sting?” You’re looking him over.  

He points to his right upper arm.

“How are you feeling?” You’re watching the spot where he was stung, checking his fingers, his eyes, listening to his breathing.

“Talk to me for a bit. Just talk about anything. If your tongue swells up, that’s a bad sign. Talk so I know you’re okay.” You unbutton his shirt and pull it down over his shoulder to where the sting is.

“Gah! Just mention bee sex and you’re all over me!” He laughs.

The bee must have snuck inside his shirt, got into a small hole somewhere. His arm looks okay, the stinger is still in his arm and his skin is red around the stinger, the spot is about as big as a gold coin and slightly puffed up. Pulling a dagger out of your pocket, you scrape along his arm, flicking the stinger out.

All the while Claude keeps talking, counting trees in rows. Asking if you would be taking his pants off if he was stung in the leg…

“How are you feeling now?” You ask. “And that is why your pants legs are tied at the ankles. To keep them out.”

“Doing fine.” He grins. “The sting hurts a little less now. Not sweaty, not a real good poison. Mostly localized.

You put your ear to his chest again, checking on his breathing and heart rate.

“So how many stings before they really get to you?” The master tactician asks, his mind always working.

“If you are allergic 1, if you  are sensitive maybe 20? If you work with them all of the time? Well I had over 75 in a single day and it just made me a bit nauseous.” You say as you help him put his shirt back together. “Want to do more or call it quits? I don’t want to do this when it starts to get dark.”

You both agree to play it safe. Marking the hives that were harvested, you head to the kitchen dropping off the buckets of honey. There’s a few bees hanging out with the honey comb, but the kitchen can deal with them.

Heading back to the hives you finish cleaning up.

“So what did you bring to put bees in?” You ask.

“What?” Claude feigns innocence.

“Don’t be all innocent with me. You want some of their poison.” You grin. “Give it to me. I’ll get some in it and then show you how to get your poison. Oh, remember, male bees have no stingers right? I think we should prank Lorenz. It’ll give him a heart attack.”

Claude laughs heartily, “And here I thought you were nothing but a bookworm with no sense of humor.”

“I can have fun too!” You whine.

“Great, just come by my room any night you want to discuss more about the birds and the bees, eh?” He grins.

“Now you’re sounding like Sylvain.” You groan.

“Oooh, that was a major insult. I am wounded.” Claude laughs.

                                              ***********************

Yes. I am a beekeeper. I love my bees. I could watch them work for hours. The smell of a beehive on a warm summers day is amazing. 

[nevermelting]

My theory on magic in Harry Potter

What is magic in the world of Harry Potter? How was it created? I have some theories about that, if you are willing to listen.

Inherent and commanded magic

Every being possess a natural energy - a magical power, some stronger (wizards) or weaker (muggles, squibs) than others. This is so called "inherent magic" which you have since birth. Two kinds of magic use inherent magic of a person - a patronus spell and animagus ritual. Inherent magic can be a cause of illnesses and destructive phantom when suppressed (obscurus) or slow degeneration into the same animal you'd be if you were an animagus (maledictus). Both are wizarding disabilities.

Inherent magic is closely connected to person's body and its instincts, that's why those instincts give shape to an animagus or a patronus. Dark mark or Harry's scar also mean that person's inherent magic is marked,changed in some way. In Harry's case it can even give him inherent magical ability of parseltongue which is only obtained by those who have close kinship with snakes (and can only turn into snake animagi, in my opinion) and which wasn’t his own.

Purebloods believe that pureblood wizards have strongest inherent magic, it's one of the secrets behind their idea of supremacy. But in reality, just like genes, inherent magic may condense due to pureblood heritage – or it may become unstable, up to producing squibs. Muggleborn inherent magic may be weaker – or it may be very strong due to other, often mysterious, reasons. Squibs can see dementors due to leftover inherent magic of their parents.

Objects also have some inherent magic but (unless it's specially enchanted object) it's passive while human and animal magic is active.

Commanded magic

"Commanded" magic is a concentration of will that uses this magic or other source to direct it somewhere.

 Commanded magic occurred naturally too, when wizard or witch wanted to do something (like light a fire) and it suddenly happened on its own, to their surprise. But this magic was still wordless, too simple and prone to accidents - it needed both more power to feed it and some kind of distinct direction marker to prevent mistakes. Someone figured out that speaking commands directed magic better. That's how, based on these impromptu words, first spells were created. 

But wizards still needed something for fine-tuning magic. A tool. Someone figured that as much as pointing a finger was better and a bit later, a stick came into use.

But after using sticks and rods for a long time, wizards couldn't help but notice that people who used magic extensively looked more weak and ill than those who did not. And the reason was simple - they had used too much of their inherent magic. 

Commanding one's inherent magic is not easy and taxing. They needed an additional source of magic power to prevent exhaustion. However, this opened a whole new can of worms - if one were to use an external source wouldn't that....be too difficult? Conflict with wizard's own energy? Was that really possible?

Indeed, first real wands were simply laughable. They often misfired and even served as cautionary tale not to use them at all. But with time, wandmakers really came into their own and Commanded magic as we knew it was born.

Wands

What is a wand? In my opinion, a wand is nothing else but a borrowed magic source from a magical animal. Animal source must have strong inherent magic preferably two or more times stronger than that of a human being.  But this also causes animal to have a magical resistance - remember dragons and their hide that is impenetrable for spells. That's why wizards love especially ferocious magical animals - the stronger their magical resistance is, the stronger their inherent magic is.

Wand wood, as also magical but less resistant substance, (due to low sentience) serves as a "leash" on an animal core, allowing one to command it. I also imagine wand wood to be a "receptive" substance and wand core to be "active" substance. Wand wood reacts to similarity in person's temperament and yields to them but animal core always needs to be tamed and similarity of a person with magical animal can only mean they would tame it better, not that animal source accepts a wizard. These two contradictory forces form a wand.

Wandless magic

Wandless magic is difficult because it uses your own inherent magic as a core to command and your own body as encasement. 

Depending on use and user's level of  aptitude, it may be taxing or dangerous, or both. Wand cores, such as unicorn hair, tend to "wear down", according to Ollivander and there is no reason to think human bodies are different. However, there are people for whom this method is preferable - those who are naturally strong and possess a lot of energy. It's a shame we haven't seen a single truly wandless villain in HP books because that alone would be a statement on how strong they are. Riddle in his post Harry state is obviously no good without a wand - while still strong and possessing some inherent magic to an extent, he is mostly hollow inside and that's why he needs a strong core - Elder wand.

Spells

Why are spells in Latin? Pull up a chair, kids.

 First of all, not all spells are in Latin. "Mimblewimble" - tongue tying curse and "alohomora" - door opening spell are not. Second, it's because even wizarding world is not free from the influence of Roman Empire which was.. literally everywhere. In medieval times, Latin was  "common language of Europe". Being old-fashioned, why wouldn't wizards use Latin? 

But what about other countries, where there was no Latin influence? 

Of course, those countries use different spells and that's the reason for Triwizard tournament - the three largest schools who are under, at least partly, Latin influence and who use Latin spells. In my opinion, it would be most wise for wizards to learn other magical languages because do you really want to be helpless in front of foreign wizards? 

Technically, Harry Potter's spell books should have been called "Latin tradition spells". They are not universal! In fact, I believe that many english-used spells do not work quite as well abroad due to magical resistance of local creatures, objects, plants and people. (Maybe that's why Bill's curse breaking profession is so difficult). 

Other magical languages are not taught at Hogwarts which is understandable (too big of a subject! There are also foreign transfiguration and potions, etc) but personally, if I could, I'd be a wizarding translator who knew spells in arabic, japanese, hindi, swedish and so on.

Next: Theory oh how spells are made (by Snape and others!) Stay tuned!

[masquerade-story]

Chapter 5 - Commencing Plan

"Earth has magic too. Alchemy and enchantments. Chemistry and technology. Same things, different names." Crystal spoke slowly as she examined the cloth material in her hands, checking for tears or weak points in the weave.

Grey pumped his fist, a triumphant look on his face. "I knew it! No way that backflipping robot was natural science."

"Science is the study of the world around you. It doesn't cancel out the existence of magic, it just helps to understand its rules better."

"Listen here, little miss know-it-all."

"I don't know it all, just more than you."

"Hey!"

Crystal grinned, finishing her examination without sparing an extra glance for the outraged Grey stomping his foot at her side.

"That's a low bar some days," Rayne said with an exaggerated sigh, then promptly ducked as Grey chucked a pillow at her face.

"Lils!" Grey whined, draping dramatically over his sister's lap, interrupting her own costume examination. "They're bullying me!"

"The truth hurts sometimes dearest," Lillian muttered, much to her twin's dismay. He recoiled away as though she'd flung him, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead in distress.

"Betrayal! Mine own blood doth betray!"

"My point," Crystal continued, using a needle and thread to tighten up a bit of beaded tape on a hem that came loose. "Was that when I said magic exists on this world, I mean I don't know what form this world's magic is going to take, so we should be careful until we understand more. It may be familiar, like chemistry and technology, or it could be something more fantastical, like what that Eater pulled on us. Until we know the rules, we shouldn't be reckless."

"What if being reckless is part of the rules?"

"Then we'll find out soon enough and adjust our course of action."

"I hate that you have an answer for everything."

"Then stop asking questions."

Crystal and Grey stuck out their tongues at each other while Lillian giggled, and Rayne shook her head at the foolishness of it all. "Children, please."

"You're the youngest one here!"

"Hard to tell by looking, huh?" Rayne shrugged. She wasn't nearly as useful with sewing, so she'd taken to tying on little chimes and ribbons to decorate her bodhrán since her large acoustic kit was much too large and bulky for their purposes. The small frame drum, just a bit over a foot in diameter and only four inches deep, was much easier to carry and play.

When they brought their main instruments for the music video, they brought along a few supplementary instruments to use for the mixing as well. Actual recording was going to happen in a proper studio, but sometimes having them around and playing them when practicing could spark more natural inspiration than trying to force it during a recording session.

So in addition to Crystal's small harp, Grey's bouzouki, Lillian's electric keyboard and Rayne's acoustic drum kit, they also brought along macho bongos, a bodhrán, a tambourine, a fiddle, a bombard, an ocarina, a zither, enough bell bangles for the four of them, and a kalimba which Lillian was unnaturally proficient with. None of the instruments were particularly large, so it was easy to fit them in alongside everything else in the hand cart. Especially the kalimba - a hand-sized wooden board with attached staggered metal tines, which made an ethereally charming resonating sound when played despite its minuscule size.

"Rayne's got her drum, I'm taking my bouzouki, Lils is bringing..."

"Kalimba."

"Right, right. Coco, which instrument are you grabbing?"

Crystal snipped the thread with her teeth after tying a tight knot. "Since Lils is bringing the kalimba, I'll go with the fiddle."

"Ooh, are we gonna do a jig?"

"Maybe. We have to see what the climate's like in town."

"Climate is cold, Coco. There's snow."

"Emotional climate, Goofus! If something terrible happened recently, if there's an illness going around or a famine or what have you, it'd be inappropriate to run in with a nice cheerful Stick Across the Hob."

"Ah, Morrison's Jig. A classic."

"We can play it if people are friendly to us. Who knows, maybe they hate folk music. There was a time in our own history where the only socially appropriate music was religious hymns, you know."

"Gross."

"Right? So again, we just have to be careful."

"And then once they like us we can do fun songs, right?"

"Maybe slow tempo drinking songs or instrumental sea shanties to uh, test the waters."

"Har de har. Lyrics?"

"I really, really, extremely thoroughly and tragically doubt they'll speak English or any of the other languages we can sing in, and they might be alarmed by foreign languages. Classic orchestral music might be our best bet, honestly."

A potentially insurmountable language barrier was part of the reason their little group hemmed and hawed about heading to town. On the one hand they definitely needed more information about the world, but on the other hand, walking in without any knowledge or method of communication was a terrifying prospect.

So they did what they all did best, and procrastinated productively. The costumes were a good start, but they weren't sturdy enough to withstand frigid winter winds since the things were entirely cosmetic. Lillian proposed they somehow create thicker linings for their clothes, and Grey suggested they make use of the house's ability to restore items in order to do just that. But for that to work, they'd have to understand how it worked.

That night they waited with bated breath after destroying a single pillow, shredding it to bits as a sacrifice to the experimental gods of magic science. As soon as midnight ticked over on the household clocks, a new pillow appeared in its original place on its appropriate bed, and the shredded remains of the sacrificed pillow were still laying sad and limp on the floor.

"Infinite pillow glitch," Grey had whispered with delight, setting the other three to helpless giggling at his dumb joke.

The next day was spent ruining disposable objects around the house to various degrees and moving them around in order to determine the magic house's threshold of accounting damage and item 'respawning' limits. Some items were completely replaced, some were merely repaired, items from outside the property didn't count, and everything else had different thresholds for what counted as damage and what didn't.

While everyone was running around wrecking their house and generally having a good time doing magic science, Crystal put an empty jar outside of the fence to sit overnight. After the reset that night, it was fully replaced complete with its original contents, while the original empty jar remained outside of the property wedged into the snow.

Crystal smiled to herself with this new discovery, and put several small jars of preserves outside the fence in one of the small wooden crates she found in the cellar, covered with a thick towel to help insulate the glass.

"What were you getting up to?" Grey asked, as she stomped back into the house rubbing her arms to fight off the winter chill.

"Wishing we had warmer clothes," Crystal sighed, the mischievous glint in her eyes telling Grey he wouldn't get any answers yet. "Or at least pajamas with sleeves."

"Plotting something sinister?"

"Maybe."

"Rock on. Lemme know if I can help."

"Of course."

With their new knowledge regarding item respawn rules, they set about tearing more pillows and sheets into raw materials for upgrading their silly stage costumes into something functional, and copied the costumes into several spare sets for each of them just in case.

The costumes were inspired by fantasy medieval fashion and Renaissance faire finery, all four virtually identical in styling. Surcoats with silver bead tape and embroidery, high collar tunics with voluminous bishop sleeves, canvas cloaks with deep hoods, leather bracers, leather boots, leather belts with ring clasps, assorted leather bags, gloves, and leggings. Aside from the white tunic, everything was black with silver embellishments such as bead tape and braided fabric trims, or embroidery that shimmered in the light. The cloaks also sported little silver jingling bells attached along the hem, matching decorative bells on the boots and bags.

Most importantly, each of them had a unique Venetian masquerade mask with an attached beaded black face veil. The intricate, ornate masks had little bells dangling from loops on the sides, and were decorated with gemstone accents around and above the eyes; each member of Aos Sí Echtrae used a different gemstone for their stage name to capitalize on all the 'Fairy Rock' jokes they could make.

Plus, Crystal was already named after a shiny rock, so it was convenient all around.

"How are we gonna make these clothes warmer?" Grey asked, holding up his surcoat and raising an eyebrow in Lillian's direction.

"Quilting." Lillian said, gesturing with her hands to try and pantomime what she meant. "Gonna create pocket insulation layers using sheets, fill them with cotton and feather down and foam and whatever else we have to use. Then sew the pocket insulation layer in the middle of the original costume layer and an inner lining, to make the clothes warm without sacrificing their aesthetic!"

"The cloaks too?"

"The cloaks especially. They're already a strong sturdy material and have been water sealed, insulating them will basically turn them into actual quilts to shield us from the wind. In fact, I'll probably use cloak copies to make waterproof pants, since insulating leggings is a bit hard thanks to their thin material..."

"Too bad we can't make better boots too," Crystal sighed, glancing out the window. It hadn't stopped snowing since they arrived, and though most of the layers didn't completely stick, there was still a foot of snow outside they'd have to slog through to reach town. If the weather continued, they would have to put off the visit until some of that snow melted off.

"I'll break the path for you guys," Rayne said, flexing a powerful bicep. "No worries. We should still wait until it stops snowing, though. Walking through bad weather always sucks, even more so if it's over a big distance."

"Remembering high school?"

"God, that hill was brutal."

"Hey, everyone gets to help out with this!" Lillian said, pointing at the other three who were subtly edging toward the door during their conversation.

"I can't sew," Rayne quickly protested, and Lillian held up a finger to shush her.

"The lining doesn't have to be sewn pretty, the stitches just have to be strong. We need to make several copies of the belts, I want to repurpose them into something else... And I wanna keep an original copy of the costumes as well as have several sets of each so this is gonna take a few days worth of resetting to complete. Oh! Rayne, you can find big branches to make into walking sticks, the ground will be uneven under the snow and we don't wanna trip."

"Yes ma'am..."

Under Lillian's watchful eye, everyone got to work on different tasks in order to prepare for their first visit to another world's town, feeling a combination of trepidation and excitement in their hearts.

------

"Hey guys? There's uh. There's something weird." Rayne's voice echoed down the hall, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps as she hurried toward the living room where the others were gathered around the finished costumes and enjoying the last of their breakfast.

"What in the... Is that... Is that a telescope?!" Grey asked incredulously as Rayne rounded the corner with something large and heavy in her arms.

"I was checking out the study and found it in one of the cabinets. So, the study has that windowed alcove bit that sticks out from the side of the house, right?"

"Yeah, like a breakfast nook but for books. Book nook!" Grey grinned, switching his attention from the costumes to the big brass telescope that Rayne was hurriedly setting up in front of the largest living room window. "This thing is ancient! There's no way this isn't some priceless antique or something!"

"Yes yes it's very cool and belonged to a former trade ship navigator about a hundred years ago don't ask how I know that I'm not sure either I understand why this weirds Coco out now, but that's not important!" Rayne wheezed, peering through the eyepiece and adjusting the focus before stepping away. "Look at the town."

Grey peeked through first, too excited about the telescope itself to wait much longer. He stared in silence for a good long moment, then frowned and stepped away to give Lillian room. "That's... You're right, that is weird. But I can't quite put my finger on why... I mean, aside from the architecture itself? But something else is bugging me..."

"It's hard to see detail from here even with the telescope, but I think some of them had glowing symbols decorating them?" Lillian said with a shrug after she had her turn. "They're pretty, and unusual for sure. Either magic or electricity, but I hope it's magic. That'd be cool!"

Crystal took her turn last, automatically touching her face to lift up the glasses that she no longer had to wear. She gave a soft laugh at finding her face naked, shook her head, and peered through the eyepiece.

The buildings were indeed strangely pretty, smooth white or silver constructs with colorful glass roofs, in sleek appealing shapes that more suited a science fiction setting rather than fantasy. Some had glowing symbols etched under arched windows or in rows along walls, but the light was dim and flickering, and it was impossible to tell from afar what shape the symbols had.

"The town has a uniform layout," Crystal said quietly, furrowing her brow. "It's a planned city. Wide roads on a grid, a perfectly arched wall surrounding the whole thing except where the harbor is. The tallest building is in the middle, might be a palace or castle? But... There's no people."

"Wait, what?!" Lillian exclaimed while Grey snapped his fingers in realization.

"That's it! Even though it's winter, there'd still be people moving around and working and stuff, right? But those roads are totally empty! No cars or wagons or pedestrians or nothing."

Crystal swung the telescope around, peering into the empty harbor, then past that toward the horizon where puffy white sails broke the barrier between sea and sky. "Ah, the ships... The city is really sleek and almost futuristic, but those ships are..."

Grey nudged Crystal aside to steal the eyepiece again, bouncing his leg with excitement. "Yo! Those are some real nice maritime vessels, my friends! Four-masted wooden masterpieces, and is that mizzenmast lateen-rigged? Squared raised stern, that's a nice prominent booty on those ships for sure. Those big boys are either carracks or galleons, or whatever they're called in this world. Whew, they're real beauties!"

"Was it an evacuation?" Lillian asked, concern coloring her voice, but Grey shook his head.

"Doubt it. The sails are torn and mended all over the place, and I think I see minor hull damage on the ones up close, but those lads are definitely pointed toward the town, and resting in a recognizable formation at that. They've been through a long journey to get here specifically, I think. In fact..." Grey swung the telescope, adjusting the focus as he went, searching to and fro until he spotted what he was looking for.

"They were further away when we first got here," Rayne said, holding up her fingers in a little pinching gesture. "The sails were like, this big on the horizon."

Grey nodded, then exclaimed aloud. "Aha! Found a pinnace! I dunno why it took them so long to approach, but they're moored in the deeps now, not sheltering in the harbor. And there, by the town wall! There's a little camp. Looks like... Ten people? They used a small pinnace boat to approach so it's probably a landing party scouting the area to see if it's safe to approach."

"I didn't see people! Let me see!" Rayne bumped Grey aside with her hip, stealing the telescope back. "There they are! Oh, they're still unloading the boat."

"It was still snowing pretty hard until like, today. They probably only just sent the team out." Grey said, and Rayne nodded in agreement.

"Looks like it. Hmm... Their clothes do look a little like our costumes, I think? They're tiny colorful blurs, but I think I see a couple people in cloaks, and possibly armor? Using our costumes is probably the best idea after all."

"But now things have gotten a bit more complicated," Crystal muttered, drumming her fingers on her bottom lip as thoughts tumbled around in her mind. "There's no permanent settlement yet. For some reason that city is empty, and we don't know why. The city looks more advanced than anything the people in wooden ships would be capable of making, no matter how nice the ships are, so they probably aren't the same civilization. If they have that many ships, are they colonizers? Are there natives to this land we need to worry about? How would they see us if we, as strangers who don't even speak their language, suddenly walked up while they're trying to settle an apparently empty foreign city?"

Grey and Lillian exchanged glances, while Rayne turned from the telescope and placed a hand on her hip. "Coco. Relax."

"How can I relax? If they're not friendly we're probably boned! They'll definitely come explore the forest for resources and they'll find us and-"

"Crystal!"

Crystal flinched as Rayne grabbed her by the shoulders and gave a gentle shake, bringing her back to her senses. She hadn't even realized she'd hunched over and started scratching at the delicate pale flesh of her arms, bright red tracks screaming their distress under her fingernails. She shivered, forcing her clawed hands to relax, and took a deep breath. "Ah... S-sorry, I... I just..."

"Does it feel dangerous?" Lillian asked, her voice calming Crystal's nerves with its serenity.

She thought a moment, then pressed her lips together and shook her head. "No. It doesn't feel dangerous. I'm just... Worried, I think. Anxious. There's so many unknowns..."

"If they're gonna find us anyway, let's go to them on our own terms," Grey said, giving Crystal's face a gentle tap with his knuckles. "Right? We readied the costumes anyway, and Rayne whittled us some fine walking sticks."

"I even polished them."

"See? She polished them, Coco."

"There was wood lacquer in the maintenance closet."

"Wood lacquer, Coco!"

"Alright, alright!" Crystal threw up her hands in defeat, struggling in vain to hide the growing smile on her face. "You win. Let's get dressed and go make first contact."

"The masks are mandatory!" Grey said, grabbing his off the living room table. "If we're gonna be a minstrel group we gotta look the part!"

"I finished the slings for your instruments, so you can carry the cases on your back under the cloaks. Should make it less of a strain to lug them through the snow." Lillian looked proud as she showed off the repurposed leather belts, carefully measured to fit each of them and evenly distribute the weight of the heavy cases across their torsos. "My kalimba is small enough to fit in a bag so I felt like this is the least I could do to help."

"You're so great Lils," Grey sighed, giving his twin a grateful hug.

"I'll go get the sticks," Rayne said, running upstairs.

Meanwhile, Crystal rolled her eyes and heaved a despondent sigh. "Man... I have to wear actual clothes again..."

"It's too cold to be a nudist, Coco."

"I'm not a nudist, I'm just texture sensitive!"

"You'd be a nudist if it was socially acceptable."

"Eh... Debatable. I'm kinda lumpy."

"No you're just soft and huggable."

"Which makes me lumpy. Oh well, at least the costume materials feel nice." Crystal sighed once more, grabbing her outfit off the living room table. "Alright, everyone turn off their vision for a second."

"We have all seen you naked, Crystal."

"We all took turns washing your back when you went through physical therapy, Crystal."

"Also this is the living room."

"Nudist."

"Exhibitionist."

"Can't hear you guys I'm already naked!" Crystal stuck out her tongue as, contrary to her statement, she headed down the hallway toward the bathroom in order to change in privacy.

"Who's naked?" Rayne called down the stairs, accompanied by the thumping sound of four walking sticks repeatedly hitting the banister as she descended.

"Everyone except you!" Grey called back, his voice muffled as he pulled the blouse over his head.

"I had to get the sticks, no one told me we were having a nudey party!"

"Nudey parties are better fun with guests that aren't basically your relatives," Lillian grumbled, and Rayne nodded as she dumped the walking sticks on the nearest sofa.

"Eh, true. No offense, you guys are our unofficial adopted siblings."

"No no, it's mutual. You both are our sisters, seeing you lot naked does not rustle my jimmies in the slightest."

"Completely unrustled?"

"Not even a jostle."

"Damn."

"Wait, why are we unofficially adopted? There's no birth records in this world for us. We can just be siblings and no one will ever be able to prove otherwise."

"Shit, you're right! Okay, you're all adopted by me now. You can call me Mama."

"Like hell we will, you're the youngest!"

"Respect your elders, young man!"

Crystal laughed to herself as their voices echoed faintly through the closed bathroom door, then focused on getting dressed. Her costume was modified further thanks to a personal request she'd made, adding a long black wrap skirt that went to her ankles to be worn over the leggings. She also added a silver sash around the waist and under the belt, made using one of the spare bedsheets.

She didn't mind pants so long as the material was nice, but she preferred the swish of long skirts and dresses because it felt more fun, and if she had to wear clothes anyway they might as well be layered and interesting. Just so long as the inner layer actually touching her body was a nice comfortable fabric!

Lillian made the skirt match the rest of the outfit using bead tape and braided fabric, and liked the resulting skirt so much she added a shorter skirt and some frilly modifications to her own outfit. Then Grey wanted some fancy embellishments and dangling cloth bits to look more dramatic, so in the end only Rayne kept the original design.

"We look amazing," Grey said with a delighted sigh as everyone gathered together in the living room once more to don their masks.

"Are the masks really necessary?" Lillian mumbled as she tugged on the gossamer veil, causing the beaded decorations woven into the fine material to jingle and shimmer. "I mean... What if not being able to see our faces scares them, or makes them suspicious?"

"Then we can take them off?" Grey said with a shrug, slinging the shoulder strap of his instrument case over his arm before settling his cloak. "But I think it adds to our mystique as wandering minstrels, and we look fantastic rather than threatening. Plus, they're the ones landing near our house, right? We're the ones living here. For all they could know, it's culturally inappropriate to walk around with naked faces!"

"We'll have to get pretty close to know for sure," Crystal said. After a moment's thought, she took out her hairclip and left it on the coffee table, allowing her long blonde hair to tumble free in the brief moment before she put up her hood. She'd spent enough time in cold climates to know long hair was best left protecting one's neck from cold air. "We'll watch their body language as we approach. If they seem hostile, we'll back off. In the meantime, we should bring some food. It's a long hike."

Everyone agreed, filing into the kitchen to pack snacks and sandwiches into their bags. Crystal tucked a few jars of preserves into hers, bringing only those and a couple sandwiches instead of cramming the space with small packs of miniature cookies and potato chips like everyone else. Her choice of foodstuff went unnoticed, since everyone else was busy playing Tetris trying to fit their chosen assortment of snacks into relatively small bags.

Once everyone felt prepared enough for their journey, they took a moment to brace themselves, each grabbing a homemade walking stick, then stepped out of the house into the snow.

[mauserfrau]

Mama’s Rings, Part 1 - Bordertober Fic

Oh gosh.  I confess, I dropped in rather unexpectedly last night.  So, this is all @kingcharon ‘s doing, though I didn’t and up jumping on the awesome prompt list because too much awesome and I’d beat myself up if I didn’t finish.  I’ve got kind of an erratic workload this time of year, so I’m just letting my muse drag me ‘round by the nose as time allows.

There’s a good many people making really cool stuff in these tags, so please do have a looksee and feel welcome to join in.  Makeup weekends are a thing.

That said, tonight is Troy learning his way around his illness. Contains medical situations, mentions of the twin’s early childhood trauma, Typhon existing and small children having digestive issues.  Tonight is 1-4, I’m expecting about 9.  

1.

In his very first clear memory, he’s crying.  A dull, throbbing ache winds through his whole body.  It’s worst around his middle.  There’s this sharp spot on his back too.  He squirms. 

Mama holds him up on the potty chair.  He’s terrified to be there.  He doesn’t have the words for why.  She sings to him, or she says hush with her voice all teary, her big hands stroking his sides or his hair.

One moment when she pauses close to his face, he grabs her thumb in his hand.  He pulls her down.  He picks over her scratched silver rings.  He still hurts, but playing with her keeps his mind off of how much. 

Leda sings again.  She doesn’t hold him so tight.  But she doesn’t let him take his favorite ring off of her thumb.

“That’s mine,” she whispers, hardly missing the words of the song.

~*~

2.

Troy refuses to eat after a bad ‘spell’.  Mama makes a jammy paste out of the almost too old plums to try and tempt him.  Ty munches on glowbugs, the really tangy orange ones, but his head has started to hurt by the time she comes to feed him too.

When she tells him, he whimpers.  “I wanted to play too! It’s not fair.” 

“Just eat! You can’t throw up light!” They never say ‘magic’ about how the two of them work.  ‘Spells’ are ‘magic’, but ‘spells’ are also what Troy has. 

He wonders.  There’s clearly something not OK in his belly.  Maybe he can throw up light.  Maybe it’ll come out of the old IV pinpricks in his veins.  Maybe his Siren markings will bleed it like stuck Djira.

Tyreen tells him she hates him and she leaves.  He thinks she’s whimpering too.  The sound of Mama and Dad arguing drowns it out though.

He starts to figure throwing up light can’t be much worse than crying, listening, being there and knowing this fight is his fault.

After everybody’s gone to bed, Troy rolls over against his sister.  Tyreen throws her arm around him before he’s got any chance to stop her.

There’s light.  His senses fade back into being, one by one.  So, there’s pain too.

He stares up at the ceiling, tasting glowbugs underneath his skin.  He realizes that if he’s magic, magic must be a terrible thing.  It makes people scream and cry.  

He’s four.  Deciding this breaks his heart so badly he can’t sleep even though he’s starving and his whole, hurting little body wants to sleep.

~*~

3.

Mama spends time in the medical suite with him sometimes if the homestead is all set with food and fire.  It’s kind of like how Dad works on the robots.  Well, Mama helps with those too, Troy and his sister soon enough since they have “tiny fingers”.  They both get told no a lot for carrying screws in their teeth, but especially Tyreen since she’s got two hands and no excuse.

Troy doesn’t mind being “worked on” too.  The medical suite is simply part of the homestead to him.  A lot of his other earlier memories start and end there.  None of them scare him as bad as the really old one about the potty chair.  Some are even kind of nice, like the one where he woke up next to Tyreen and Mama had posed them like fish with the very last two of the sparkly bandages.

“It’s your shoulder.  There’s a little more that has to come out,” Mama tells him now, petting his head.  

Troy nods.  He breathes the disinfectant and the steely warmth beneath the lights.  

When he wakes up a while later, the room is dark and something is very wrong.  He knows very well what sutures feel like and he is covered in them.  Also, he’s alone.

He calls for Mama.  Something in his belly stabs with agony.  He catches his breath and holds his hand over his mouth.  Monitor noise fills the room.

It’s Dad who comes to get him.  “There’s my little man,” he says cheerfully.  “Wow, you were really down for the count.  Did a number on Mama too.  She’s dead to the world someplace out back.”

Troy balks, wide-eyed.  He points to where he’s hurting.

“Huh? What about your business?” Dad seems ever so slightly taken aback.

No.  Troy shakes his head.  He ends up clumsily grappling with the bedclothes while his father laughs and laughs.  Like the loop of missing skin on Troy’s stomach and the drain sticking out of the wound perfectly normal.

He can hear Tyreen whispering.  “I think she had to fix his belly button like she did mine.” Then, to him— “Can I see?”

Troy sobs and pulls the sheets up.  Not that Tyreen doesn’t end up seeing anyway.  It’s days before he can walk himself to the toilet.  Tyreen takes him.  She doesn’t complain much.

~*~

4.

Mama dies.  Dad doesn’t let Troy help dig the grave.  He has the robots do it even though they’re too precise and they don’t seem to realize not to laugh about it.

It’s that plentiful season after the rains on Nekrotafeyo when new mantas are born and there’s so much spawn and sprat in the lakes that Tyreen can go wading for supper, though Dad says that’s wasteful. 

It seems deeply wrong for Mama to be gone at all, but especially then.  When everything else is alive and she’s not anymore.

Troy picks around the homestead, looking for where Dad might have put her rings.  He couldn’t have burned them.  Silver doesn’t burn.  But then where are they?

Once again and after dark, Troy goes out to Mama’s grave.  He starts to ask her, but the night is cool and whistling.  His voice seems like too much for the valley below.  Besides, he does know where one of Mama’s rings went.

Troy pulls up his shirt and plays with the round scar she left underneath his belly button.  He wonders if maybe she fixed his spells since he hasn’t had one since.  Part of him knows it’s wishful thinking.  Besides, why didn’t she tell him what she found?  Why didn’t she tell him she was going to?

The same reason she didn’t give him her ring to play with.  Some things were hers.  

When he heads back to the homestead, Tyreen’s waiting for him in the shadows, her arm tucked against the wall so she’s awfully hard to see.

“Was she there?” she asks.  

He thinks at first she’s trying to scare him, although that’s funny stuff to say if she is.  “Ah, no?” he answers like it’s normal.

Next thing, she’s fists balled up and trembling in front of him.  Troy puts his hand up to guard, concerned she’s going to hit him.  

Then she’s gone in the moonlight and he barely sees her for the next few days. 

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @GyoroandUrurun!

Happy Christmas, friend! I tried combining a few of your likes into one story, I hope it's all right <333

Read on AO3

*****

Pluit

"This is a joke, right?"

"One can only dream," Magnus says with a smile, earning himself a sour look from the Shadowhunter at his side. "What?" he demands, turning to better see a scowl that shouldn't be that hot. He lifts their joined arms and shakes them in the Shadowhunter's face. The ribbons tying their wrists together have long, trailing ends, and they flutter with the movement. "You think I wanted this?"

The Shadowhunter just keeps scowling hotly at him, and Magnus continues.

"You think I want to be tied to you?" he asks, ignoring the voice in his head telling him that that might not be so bad. He's been there, done that, and he swore it'd never happen again. And after decades of breaking his own promises to himself, he'd finally, finally gotten this one to stick.

"We'll fix it," the Shadowhunter seethes at him, his voice a low hiss, and an involuntary shiver makes its way down Magnus's spine, igniting a small spark of rage.

"We will," Magnus growls, and he storms off, delighting in how the Shadowhunter stumbles forward after him.

Not so graceful after all, he thinks, and he knows it's unkind but he doesn't much care. If it weren't for him, this Shadowhunter would still be the plaything of what's most likely a trickster demon of some sort. The least he could do is be grateful.

"You could have at least said thank you," he says, pushing through the sand in long strides. They're on a deserted stretch of rocky beach, where Magnus had been enjoying a lovely stroll when he'd come across this Shadowhunter bound from head to foot in gold and black ribbons. He'd sent a bolt of magic flying toward him to cut him loose - he tries to be kind despite everything, after all - and it'd all been fine until the ribbons shot forward, the black ones turning to cobalt blue as they wrapped themselves around Magnus's wrist. He'd been tugged torward the Shadowhunter's side and found to his dismay that the other end of the ribbons were tied firmly around the Shadowhunter's wrist. He found to his greater dismay that no matter how hard they pulled, the ribbons were stuck tight. His magic wouldn't work to cut them free, and neither would the Shadowhunter's weapons.

"Looks like we're in this together," he'd said brightly, trying to remain positive and not give into the panic attempting to claw its way out of him, and all he'd received in return was a blank look. Yes, it wasn't one of his best lines, but still…he surely deserved better.

The Shadowhunter's back to scowling as they're making their way up the beach, and the more they walk, the more irritated Magnus becomes. He doesn't know why, but every little thing's pricking at him. The panic of being tied down, the silence, the anger radiating off the person he's been shackled to, the fact that that person is a Shadowhunter and would very likely have no problem destroying him if it meant that he got the chance to go free.

"What were you even doing?" he asks. He gets a grunt in response. "Were you attempting to do something well? Because if so, I'd say you failed. Miserably."

"You think I don't know that?" the Shadowhunter asks. His voice is low again, and raspy, and there's a note of something almost like heartbreak in it, but Magnus refuses to believe it. Shadowhunters, in his experience, don't hold much with finer feelings.

"I don't know what you think," Magnus fires back. "Seeing as how you've spoken a truly astonishing three complete sentences to me in the brief time we've known each other, and each one of them quite rude." He can't help but laugh. "I don't even know your name. I'm bound to you for quite possibly the foreseeable future and I don't even know what to call you."

The Shadowhunter at least has the decency to look slightly chastened.

"Alec," he says eventually and mostly to Magnus's chin. He swallows, and Magnus watches as his Adam's apple bobs in his throat. It shouldn't look that good. "I'm Alec Lightwood."

"Oh joy," Magnus says, unable to help himself. "I'm tethered to a Lightwood. Could my day get any better?"

As if on cue, the sky opens up, and rain begins to fall. A heavy, drenching rain that apparently knows all the little openings in his clothes, given how quickly he can feel water seeping in. He fights down another shiver as he looks over at Alec.

"I suppose you want to make a run for it," he says dryly, noticing with some small satisfaction that Alec's started to look a bit like a drowned rat.

"You got a better idea?" Alec asks, and actually, Magnus does.

"Of course I do," he says, already bringing up his free right hand to create the portal. He's never tried to do it one-handed before, but it should still work. Hopefully.

It, of course, does not.

No matter how hard he waves his hand, the most he's able to get is a few pitiful blue sparks. He tries snapping his fingers, but they're too wet to be of any use in that department.

"I thought you could just do magic without all the hand gestures," Alec says very helpfully in his left ear. The rain's become so loud that he's had to lean in close and his breath is warm on Magnus's skin. Too warm. Magnus steps away.

"It helps me focus," he shouts, that nasty need of his to always explain himself popping up at the absolute best time. He keeps trying, going so far as to swipe his wet hands across his equally wet trousers, right up until Alec finally rolls his eyes and steps forward, pulling Magnus along with him. He walks fast, and he doesn't once break stride, not even with Magnus doing his darndest to dig his heels in at every available opportunity.

"Where are you taking me?" Magnus yells into the rain and the wind. Alec doesn't answer, and he doesn't stop until they're standing in front of a large, dark house.

"No," Magnus says, as their steps grind to a halt. "I'm not going in there."

"You don't really have much choice," Alec says. He's squinting at him, just as hotly as he'd been scowling earlier.

"You'll ruin...that," he adds, waving his free hand in the general direction of Magnus's coattails, and Magnus can't help but laugh.

"It's already ruined," he says, and there's a note of sorrow in his voice that he really wishes wasn't there. He adores this coat, and he's had a long time with it to adore it, but Alec doesn't need to know about any of that.

"I have alcohol," Alec offers, and that's enough to make Magnus forget about his clothes for a second.

"What kind?" he asks.

"Does it matter?" Alec counters, and no, Magnus supposes it doesn't matter at all.

"Lead on then," he says, plastering a big fake smile on his face and gesturing with his free hand toward the house. Alec blinks at him for a long moment, and then, with a tug at the ribbons binding them, begins to walk inside.

*

The inside of the house is just as dark as the outside of the house, but it's drier, and the alcohol turns out to be a very lovely bottle of Pétrus.

"You don't want to get dried off first?" Alec asks, while he's very kindly holding the bottle firmly between his very nice thighs. He's got his free hand holding the neck of the bottle while Magnus is doing his best with the corkscrew they'd found in a sticky drawer.

"Nope," Magnus says, popping the p because it's annoying and he's still annoyed. His magic isn't working any better inside the house than out of it, and he's reduced to using hand tools. "I want to be drunk."

Alec raises an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't comment.

Instead, he asks, "And what do you want to do after you're drunk?"

"I don't know," Magnus shrugging one shoulder. "Pass out? Wake up to none of this having happened?"

Alec rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, because that's likely," he says, and Magnus gives him a disgusted look.

"I know," he says, turning so he's right in Alec's face. This close he can see flecks of green in Alec's hazel eyes, and it makes him even more annoyed. It's not fair that he's tied to a Shadowhunter in the first place, and it's especially not fair that said Shadowhunter is absurdly attractively his type while at the same time being revoltingly unpleasant personality-wise. "You asked what I wanted, not what I thought would happen."

"What do you think is going to happen?"

"No idea," Magnus says, right as the cork comes free with a satisfying pop. He considers it for a moment, and then tilts the bottle up, taking an even more satisfying swig of wine. It's rich and warm going down his throat and he can't help but sigh after he's finished. "Oh that's good."

He's about to drink some more when Alec wraps his hand around the neck of the bottle and pulls it toward himself.

"Hey," Magnus protests, but Alec ignores him, tipping the bottle up just as Magnus had done and drinking deeply. Magnus watches, mesmerized by the bobbing of Alec's Adam's apple when a thought occurs to him.

"Not so fast," he says, wrenching the bottle out of Alec's hands. "You'll make yourself sick."

"Didn't know you cared," Alec says, his voice suddenly much deeper and his breathing heavier. Magnus absolutely does not think about what that would sound like in other situations, in other rooms.

"I don't," he says, taking another long drink of wine and then gesturing at their bound wrists. "But we are rather tied together at the moment and there's nowhere for me to go if you decide to be violently ill from drinking too much, too fast."

"I suppose that makes sense," Alec says, and Magnus rolls his eyes.

"You suppose," he says, drinking deeply from the wine again. He stops, sputtering, when he feels a sharp kick to his leg. "What the hell was that for?"

"Maybe I don't want you getting sick all over me either," Alec says, and Magnus can't be sure but he thinks he's smirking. Hotly. Unfairly.

"Aren't you just the soul of compassion," he says, flopping down miserably beside Alec on the sofa. Some of the wine sloshes out of the bottle and lands on his hand. He starts licking at it, only because it'd be a shame to waste such good, expensive wine. He starts licking more slowly when he notices Alec watching him.

"See something you like?" he asks, smirking back. He enjoys the way Alec's gaze lingers on his mouth, and because he can't not, he licks his lips. Alec jumps in his seat. Or he tries to, only to get pulled right back down. Magnus tugs at the ribbons binding them, if only to make a point. "Going somewhere?"

"No," Alec says, making a face. Magnus raises an eyebrow at him and the face clears. Alec runs his hand through his wet hair. "I mean, yes."

"There's another one of those in the kitchen," he adds after a long stretch of silence in which they just sort of stare dumbly at each other. "I want it."

"Sure you do," Magnus says, doing his best to get to his feet. Alec wraps a hand around his wrist after a few failed attempts, and it's only because of the promise of more wine that Magnus allows it. "But if you insist…"

"I really do," Alec says, pulling him to his feet in one swift movement, and, even though no one is likely to in this dank, deserted place, Magnus decides that should someone magically appear and ask, he'll just say it's the dizziness keeping him quiet.

*

It's several bottles later when Magnus, sprawled across the, rather ugly once he got a chance to look at it, sofa asks, "So what were you trying to do?"

"On the beach," he adds, noticing the white blur out of the corner of his eye that's got to be Alec turning his face toward him. He'd turn his head to look back, but he'd probably be ill if he did. He's feeling rather...sloshy, his usual high tolerance for alcohol having apparently flitted off after his magic when that ran out.

He doesn't let himself wonder whether he'll get either of them back.

"What were you trying to do?" he asks again instead, and it takes a long, long time, but eventually...Alec answers.

"I wanted a soulmate," he says, his voice low and thick.

"You thought you'd find one at the beach?" Magnus asks, raising his eyebrow even though they're not looking at each other.

"Special beach," Alec says, knocking his shoulder into Magnus's. Magnus swallows down the bile that threatens to crawl up his throat. "S'got magic."

"Uh huh," Magnus says, slowly, "what kind of magic?"

He's never heard of this beach being any kind of magical, whether warlock or Seelie or otherwise.

"Dunno," Alec says, sliding down further in his seat. His head ends up resting on Magnus's shoulder, and Magnus lets him stay there, if only because he isn't too sure he wants to try shrugging him off.

"But you wanted a soulmate so you came anyway," he says instead. Alec nods against his arm. "Not very Shadowhunter-like of you, I must say."

Alec simply hums, poking his nose into Magnus's arm.

"Aren't you supposed to find a nice Shadowhunter girl, marry her, and produce dozens of perfect little Shadowhunter babies?" Magnus asks. "It's been a while since I really cared but I thought that's what your sort did."

"Awww you cared."

"Did not," Magnus says immediately, his cheeks burning, quite against his will, at being caught out.

"You did once," Alec says, and before Magnus can argue, he adds, "I didn't want to marry a girl."

"Why not?" Magnus asks, his heart threatening to climb into his throat.

"Because I wanted to marry a boy."

Magnus swallows and shifts in his seat.

"They don't let you do that?"

Alec shakes his head.

"Can't make dozens of perfect little Shadowhunter babies if you're married to a boy."

"No I suppose you couldn't," Magnus says. He chews on his lip, thinking, and then he asks, "So, magical soulmate beach?"

Alec snorts out a laugh.

"Yeah," he says, "Sister's idea."

"She knows about you?"

"No," Alec says. "I mean, she doesn't...know I'm gay but she said I needed rest."

"Why'd you need rest?" Magnus asks, even though it's really none of his business and also he doesn't care. Much.

"Accident," Alec says, and an inexplicable thrill shoots down Magnus's spine.

"What happened?"

Alec shifts, digging his chin into Magnus's arm until Magnus is forced to look at him.

"I nearly died," Alec says, with an oddly serene smile on his face. "And it wouldn't have been so bad but my sister was there and…"

"And you survived for her."

"Yeah," Alec says, that smile still in place. Magnus keeps looking into his eyes, expecting to see tears, but they never come. He doesn't know if that makes him sad or not. Emotions only get in the way for Shadowhunters. They don't hold much with them, call them distractions, or so he's always heard. He just...somehow thought it'd be different here, in this dark house, after the wine. With him.

"And you decided to come here and rest and get a soulmate while you were at it."

Alec nods.

"Why?"

"Because," he says, after a long pause, "then I wouldn't be so alone."

"I see," Magnus says, because he does. He hates that he does but, well… "You know it's not your soulmate's job to fix your problems."

Alec nods his head again, his eyes slowly closing.

"You shouldn't be with someone just because you don't want to be alone," Magnus says. "Soulmate or not."

"I know," Alec says, so quietly he's nearly whispering. "But it'd be nice to have someone."

"It would," Magnus says, just as quietly. A moment passes, and then he asks, "How much did we have anyway?"

Alec laughs. It's a nice sound, Magnus will admit.

"Too much probably," Alec says. "I won't tell anyone if you won't."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Magnus murmurs. Alec snorts out a laugh. Magnus lets himself enjoy it, lets himself enjoy the way the skin by the corners of Alec's eyes crinkles before he asks, "So any idea how long we're going to be stuck like this?"

"Not a clue," Alec says, and Magnus finds himself laughing.

"We got more wine?" he asks. "I think...we need some more."

He doesn't, really, but he's feeling marvelously...fizzy all of a sudden and he'd rather like the feeling to last a bit longer.

"You know," Alec says, sitting up straighter and smiling brightly at him and oh that is nice. Magnus could look at that for a long, long time. "I think we do."

*

Next thing he knows it's morning. He blinks his eyes open and instantly regrets it, the daylight streaming through one of the windows doing its utmost best to sear his retinas.

"Ow," he says, putting a hand to his aching forehead.

"Took you long enough," says a voice from in front of him, and it's only because he's never heard it before that he opens his eyes again. There's a girl in front of him, a woman really, in a tight red dress and impossibly high heels, and her features are familiar enough that it doesn't take much guessing to figure out who she is.

"You're Alec's sister," he says, doing his best to sit up and instantly regretting that too. Not that he gets far, what with how he's still bound to Alec, but the sloshiness from last night is present in fuller force than before and well, he just hopes there's a lavatory somewhere close by.

"Izzy," she says, coming closer. He half expects her to stick out a hand for him to shake, but she doesn't, settling instead for staring at him with her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed over her chest. "You're Magnus Bane."

"The one and only," Magnus says, a little breathlessly. He swallows as hard as he can to force the bile back down his throat.

"What are you doing with my brother?" Izzy asks, somehow narrowing her eyes further.

"Nothing untoward, I promise you," Magnus says, holding his hands up. Alec's right arm comes up too, still as tied to Magnus's left arm as it ever was, and Magnus can't help but sigh. "I was merely out for a walk along the beach when I happened upon your brother and well…"

He waves his arm and Alec's, and he's surprised when Alec doesn't stir at all. He'd half expected a blade to the chest.

"He didn't," Izzy says, her eyes growing wide.

"He didn't what?" Magnus asks, glancing back. Alec's started to scowl in his sleep and it's...adorable.

"Ugh," Izzy says, dropping her arms and clenching her hands into fists. She stomps over, loudly, and begins trying to shake Alec awake. "I told him not to come here."

"What's so wrong with here?" Magnus asks, watching as Alec bats Izzy's hand away.

"Usually nothing," Izzy says, shaking Alec harder. "But if you come on the feast day of Priscilla and Aquila and speak to the tide, which my brother obviously did-"

"You know what's going on?" Magnus asks, cutting her off when she gestures at the ribbons binding them.

"Yes," Izzy says, right as Alec's eyes begin to open. "I told him we'd figure something out but he just had to come and do this."

"He definitely seems like the type to do exactly what he wants," Magnus says, as Alec blinks at them and then shifts, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes again. "So what exactly did he do this time?"

"You don't know?" Izzy asks, and Magnus shakes his head.

"I just know I was walking along the water when suddenly there were ribbons binding me to him," he says, glancing down at his wrist. "You said something about a feast day?"

Izzy nods.

"Yeah," she says, dropping into the closest chair. It's not lost on Magnus that the chair is the one closest to Alec. "Priscilla and Aquila."

"Who were they?"

"Saints," Izzy says, with a wave of her hand. "Patron saints of good marriages."

"Oh," Magnus says, and Izzy gives him a look he can't make out.

"Yeah," she says again, "and legend has it that if you go down to the beach on their feast day-"

"Which I'm guessing was yesterday," Magnus says, earning himself a smile that reminds him of the one he got from Alec. It takes everything in him not to look and see if Alec's awake.

"Smart boy," Izzy says, "and according to the legend if you go down to the beach on their feast day and stand at the edge of the water and ask, then you'll find your soulmate."

"Soulmate?" Magnus asks, his voice shooting up several octaves. This time he doesn't stop himself from looking at Alec. Alec's awake and looking back at him.

"I didn't think it'd actually work," Alec says, his voice low and gravelly and sounding way too good for this entire situation.

"Apparently it did," Magnus says, but there's no heat in it. He isn't sure why.

"It did," Alec echoes, and there's no heat in that either.

"The ribbons?" Magnus asks, just so he can think about something else for a moment.

"They're like a soulmate mark," Izzy says. Magnus isn't looking at her, choosing instead to focus on Alec. He can't make out his expression no matter how hard he tries.

"Are they ever going to come off?" Magnus asks. "No offense but...it's not very practical being tied to someone at every moment."

"None taken," Alec says, a hint of a smile on his face that actually looks genuine. Magnus can't help but smile back at him.

"It'll fade," Izzy says, and they both turn to look at her. "The more you spend time together, the faster it'll go away."

"The bond will still be there," she continues, and that expression Magnus can't make out is slowly turning into something knowing. "But if you wanted the ribbons gone faster you could always go for coffee together."

"Are you asking me out for him?" Magnus asks, raising an eyebrow at her. Izzy simply shrugs.

"It's a start, don't you think?" she says, brushing off her knees and then standing up. "Anyway, you two can work it out. I'm going to make tea."

She's gone before either of them can reply. Magnus turns back to Alec, and he doesn't know why but it's a relief to see that soft smile still on his face.

"Well," he says, because he can't not at this point, "what do you say to coffee?"

Alec barks out a laugh.

"I could definitely use some coffee," he says, his free hand going up and massaging at his forehead.

"Want to call it a date?" Magnus asks, raising his arm and Alec's and waving them. The ribbons flutter with the movement and in the sunlight Magnus can see bright blue flecks of glitter sparkling in the cobalt ones. Bright blue just like his magic.

"Yeah," Alec says, as a thought begins to occur to him about just where his magic might have went. "I do."

[zephyrises]

character sheet.

full name.  ventus pronunciation.  ven-tuhs (which is not at all how the latin word is actually pronounced but don’t worry about it) nicknames.  venty-wenty

height.  5′5″ age.  verse dependent. 12 in ux, 16 in bbs and going on 17 in post-kh3. zodiac.  taurus, with his new birthday. original unknown. languages.  japanese. everyone understands everyone else in kingdom hearts anyway, though?? doesn’t matter which world they’re on. it’s that Disney Magic(tm), ig.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour.  golden blonde that edges towards platinum. eye colour.  forest green. skin tone.  pale with yellow undertones. body type.  slight, but athletic. accent.  none, per se, but he will shorten words, mash words together and use some slang. dominant hand.  ambidextrous. he tends to stick with his right, though. posture.  very lax and casual. in battle, he uses a unique and antiquated, backhanded stance. tattoos.  none in any of my canon or canon based verses, even though he likes the idea of it! but in my collegeverse, he’s saving up to get lines drawn between the birthmarks on his back so they look like constellations. most noticeable features.  definitely his eyes, freckles, smile and the armor he wears on his feet, upper arm and abdomen. i’d say that the way he moves around is pretty attention catching in and of itself, considering how speedy, floaty and bouncy he is even without necessarily needing or intending to be. he’s also a bit small for his age, both in terms of height and weight.

CHILDHOOD.

place of “birth.”  daybreak town. hometown.  likely daybreak town. birth weight / height.  unknown.. manner of birth.  as weird as it sounds, necromancy. first words.  unfortunately, “yes, master.” siblings.  luxu could technically constitute in uxverse, depending upon how the both of them would view their situation. otherwise, he starts to think of terra and aqua as his older siblings sometime before the events of birth by sleep and then forever onward. parents.  in a terrihorrible way, the master of masters. if he had any parents before his body was re-animated, then it would be impossible to trace them now. he thinks of eraqus as a father figure, but his feelings on the matter are a big ol’ can of worms. parental involvement.  mom locked him up and used him for experiments. eraqus locked him up, good intentions notwithstanding, and tried to kill him. in other words, not the best!

ADULT LIFE

occupation.  post-kh3, he’s a guardian of light and keyblade master in training. the way aqua and yen sid have it slated, he’ll be taking his mark of mastery exam when he turns 18! current residence.  the land of departure, for now. even though he wouldn’t say it aloud to terra or aqua, he’d really like to leave and live somewhere new someday. close friends.  based off current canon, terra, aqua, lea, isa, sora, minnie, stitch, lilo, cinderella, jaq, hercules and peter pan. i see him having really good chemistry with vanitas, kairi, naminé, roxas, xion, ienzo, riku and demyx too, barring some development and circumstances! relationship status.  i don’t portray ven as having been in any romantic relationship or harboring romantic feelings towards anyone up until post-kh3. what happens from then on is a toss up depending on who i’m interacting with. i.e., right now, he’s dating @midnightpapllion​​ and has a budding crush on @rxcusant​​‘s vanitas! he’s a good-natured cutie, though, so other teenagers have flirted with him plenty during his travels. he’s just inexperienced and completely oblivious to the intent unless it’s spelled out for him, which tends to discourage most. financial status.  eraqus left a small fortune that he, aqua and terra use exclusively for groceries and supplies for missions. otherwise, he’s got a modest amount of spending money from traversing the worlds. he just doesn’t spend it on much aside from snacks and souvenirs. driver’s license.  cars are Completely nonexistent in his world. he only rides a keyblade glider and, even though there prrrrrobably should be, there’s no actual license required for that. criminal record.  this one time, he harassed some old men in the woods and beat up a cat about twenty times his size. those instances aside, he’s not necessarily above crime or violence as long as it isn’t Too uncouth and serves a purpose, so he’s probably got at least a little more on his rap sheet.

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation.  pansexual. romantic orientation.  demi and panromantic. preferred emotional role. submissive | dominant | switch |  unsure preferred sexual role.  submissive |  dominant  |  switch |  sex repulsed libido. turn on’s. turn off’s. love language.  even though he’d fail to notice a lot of the patterns himself, ven’s would consist predominantly of physical touch, acts of service and gift giving. as of terra and aqua’s involvement in his life, he’s become a huge touchy feely type. shoulder, arm and back touches, hugging and hand holding are all pretty normal for him in any sort of relationship, but lingering touches would be the big cue where romantic attraction is present. longer or more common hugs as opposed to just short lived hugs of greeting, parting or comfort. increasingly consistent tapping, leaning, nudging or hand holding for no particular reason other than because he gets a random urge to instigate it. acts of service would mostly just boil down to doing a lot of cooking or baking, but if he was in a position to and it wouldn’t be Weird to do so, he’d happily tidy up for someone or do their laundry, too! since the person in question would be on his mind a lot, he’d feel inclined to grab something up if it reminds him of them. probably stuff like flowers, pretty rocks or shells, accessories, snacks, things they’ve mentioned/he’s Noticed they enjoy, etc. etc. relationship tendencies.  mileage may vary for all of this depending on his partner’s personality and boundaries, obviously, but i’m willing to bet he’d be doting and clingy. he’s clingy with pretty much everyone once they give him an inch anyway, so i don’t think anybody would be too surprised or put off if they’ve already been hanging around long enough for him to develop feelings. definitely a little shy when it comes time to say i love you, kiss, go out or snuggle non-platonically, but not awkward or uncertain. the friendship that came before would be the foundation, after all, and he wouldn’t view a romance as something separate from that. more like another layer on top that they can navigate and define together. baseline, his flirting style is a combination of undisguised adoration and big time teasing. aaaand generally, he’d also be very attentive! he accounts for the tinier details, even if he can’t always make sense of them without posing a question or two.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song.  i love the canon version of his theme, but i’m linking project destati’s version in particular because it’s orchestrated and extended and kills me dead. hobbies to pass the time.  adventures, walks, star gazing, star charting, flower pressing, bird watching, cooking, ukulele, and the biggie.... NAPPING. mental illnesses.  depression and ptsd. physical illnesses.  you could definitely argue that having his darkness stripped from him is more of a spiritual or mental condition, but to me, it’s a physical one. i think of it like having an organ removed from your body (say, a chunk of your goddamn HEART) or being on the receiving end of blunt trauma. there are mental and spiritual effects, sure. it contributed to his ptsd, depression, and an amnesiac episode, but xehanort stabbed him to make it happen and he’s got the scar and near death experience to prove it, so we’re calling it a physical illness in my house. a reaaaally strange, completely unparalleled, chronic fantasy illness. left or right brained.  right brained for sure. he’s really imaginative and artsy. fears.  being abandoned, especially by those he holds dear. not being smart or strong enough to prevent someone from getting hurt or worse. being deprived of control over his own body or decisions.  self confidence level.  veeeeeery low. when he acts confident, he’s just faking it until he makes it,.which, unless he addresses the root of the problem, won’t be anytime soon. but i’m behind the wheel so this kid’s not going to let being abused define him forever. mark my words. vulnerabilities.  impulsive and bad decision prone. he’s not very physically strong or durable, either. fast, sure. definitely determined to stick it out until the very end. but once you get a couple of good hits in, he’s down. he’ll also undermine his own value and throw his life and safety away on the off chance that it could help someone else, so jot that one down.

tagged by: @kissafist​​ THANK YOU!! ♥ i had so much fun with this. tagging: in addition to livi and sammi who i already pinged above, let’s do @localmagicalboi​​, @feraliix​​, @galaxycrxss​​, @blackasteriia​​ and YOU! but only if you feel like it!

[jflashandclash]

Tales From Mount Othrys

Why Little Siblings Need Fidget Spinners I

           “Can you believe that he expects me to stay?” Pax whined as Mercedes untied the dangling bells from each of his joints. This was a practice exercise for both of them. He’d done awesome this morning—she even told him so. He had to break into the captain’s quarters, dodging or flirting through the guards until he, without ringing a single bell tied around each of his joints, climbed through the side window, took pictures of a particular file, and climbed back out undetected.

         Once Mercedes discovered Pax’s illiteracy, after several months of Pax claiming he couldn’t remember documents that she kept sending him to practice on, they had settled on this method. He would bring the information back and she would sort through it.

         Then came part II: Mercedes untying the bells from his wrists, elbows, knees, ankles, waist, and neck. She also wasn’t allowed to make the bells ring. She had instructed him to think of them like sleeping fairies that will eat your flesh if you wake them up.

         She said he would be ready for a mission to New Rome soon.

         Pax tried to focus on that and his anger at Axel for leaving, instead of how seamlessly she removed the ribbons from his ankles.

Each segment of bells was attached to the one above—the ankles to the knees and the knees to the waist, so none would slip down. The wrist ones were attached to the elbow and then to the one around his neck. Because no one else could see them during their exercises, they had taken to tying them under Pax’s clothing.

         To put them on or take them off, Pax had to stand in his underwear, alone (other than Mercedes) in the room that she had been allotted to train her spies.

         He swallowed, trying not to notice how pretty her Mediterranean skin tone looked against her olive hijab.

         “As you should,” she said, delicately setting his ankle bells into a small wooden box without the slightest ring.

         Pax blinked, his mind scrambling to remember what he’d just said to her. Right. Axel wanted Pax to stay while Axel went off on some secret mission of awesome—as if Pax couldn’t figure out where his brother was going.

         “How am I supposed to train a proper spy if he can’t work under the duress of a quick response?” she said. Her dark, humorous eyes flicked up to him as she collected the bells from his knees and hips.

         Pax wanted to pout at her. Instead, he glanced up at the ceiling, struggling not to think of her eyes and hoping the only thing rising in him was a blush. He tried to think of things that would keep his head cool—like seeing Morpheus disco. That could kill any engine. Someone needed to remind the gods that disco died decades ago.

         “He acts like I should want to stay,” Pax mumbled.

         “As you should,” Mercedes said, setting the next four bells into the box without a sound. “You’re the inner softness to his hard shell. If something were to happen to you, he’d be coarse and hollow.”

         This was a topic that Pax tried to ignore. It was something both Mercedes and Chris had mentioned, around the same time they began to avoid being alone with Axel.

The Pax brothers had both been terrified Axel would be called back for another cage match. The cruise ship still buzzed about his battle against Praetor Julian.

He had been.

         Pax hadn’t been allowed to go to the next one. Axel forbade it. Pax had been locked in Alabaster’s laboratory while the Witch Boy watched him kick, scream, and sob at the door. Axel could have died without Pax getting a chance to say goodbye or getting a chance to save him. No matter how many times Lou Ellen tried to distract him with magical vials or Alabaster pointed out he’d be more of distraction if he were there, Pax had shrieked.

         Since then, everyone referred to Axel as a natural born killer. As if it was a good thing. As if he had no remorse about whatever demigod he’d had to murder on stage. They didn’t know Axel’s nightmares had gotten worse. They didn’t see how he carefully shined Julian’s medals and polished the new charm bracelet, muttering prayers in Mayan that their souls should safely make it to their afterlife.

         “I’m surprised Luke thinks he can sneak Jack out too,” Mercedes said absently as she untied the bells from Pax’s wrist.

         Pax wanted to be happy for the change of subject. Instead, he jumped, making his neck bell jingle. “What?!”

         Mercedes gave him a smirk.

         Pax whined. Once he proved he could move around soundlessly with the bells, they had a running bet. Whichever of them jingled in their training owed the other a favor. Pax owed Mercedes a lot of favors.

         She set to undoing his elbow bells. “Didn’t you notice that Luke was suddenly concerned about having backup mediators for Jack’s monster meditation classes and other nonsense, ‘in case he got sick,’ even though Jack can’t physically become ill with his power? And how Jack complained that some of his clothing has gone missing—specifically stuff he might use for travel? And how Flynn is shockingly overbooked this week?”

         Pax stared at Mercedes as she removed his shoulder bells. “You’re good,” he said.

         “I strive to have my spy worthiness validated by a munchin,” she said.

         Pax sighed dreamily. “I hope I can talk like you and Alabaster when I grow up. Maybe I’ll absorb it off of you, assuming neither of you starting chasing me out of your wings, although I’m pretty sure Alabaster already wants nothing to do with me.”

         Pax liked to think he had two wings of the ship to enjoy and two wings to carry him: one, Alabaster’s laboratory; the other, Mercedes’ spy barracks. As far as he could see, Alabaster tolerated him on his good days. On his bad days, he chased him out of the lab.

         “Maybe Alabaster and I share something in common. His mistress is his lab. Mine is the spymaster unit. It just takes a little parasite to shake our focus.” Mercedes stood up. The last bell was around his neck. She folded her arms, tilted her head, then reached out a hand and flicked his bell.

         The metal rang.

         Pax swallowed. If it were anyone other than Mercedes, he would have thought she was flirting with him.

         “Now, the favor owing is negated for today,” she said, her face businesslike. “I do this in exchange for you not being stupid and running after Pax One.”

         “That sounds like you’re calling in another favor,” Pax complained, trying to spot how she pinned her head covering. She tucked the pins so well.

         Pax was in the process of making Mercedes a fancy, brown headscarf with pink and yellow embroidery along the edges. As Pax had never embroidered before, and had to sneak a hijab from their spymaster so he could get the proper size, the process had been slow going, much slower than when he’d made Flynn hair sticks with little pandas attached to them. (He didn’t find out until later that she hated pandas. Who would have thought a girl from China could hate pandas? She still wore them sometimes, so he was skeptical when Jack slipped up about that information.)[1]

         Pax hoped Mercedes would wear the headscarf. She always wore simple, plain clothing, no makeup, and no jewelry. What if she didn’t like something ornate?

         Mercedes’ dark eyes felt like they were burning into his soul. “Fine. Use it as a favor, Pax Two. I don’t mind being down two out of a hundred.”

         “It’s not at one hundred!” Pax cried, hoping she wouldn’t notice how he dodged the agreement. There was no way he was about to let Axel rush off on some secret, dangerous mission that only involved Luke and Jack. What if he got in trouble? Or met a hot chick and Pax didn’t get to see the blossoming of their romance? He’d miss months of potential teasing!

         Her gaze narrowed. “I mean it Pax Two. They’re going somewhere you shouldn’t follow.”

         Pax tried to give her a charming smile. Mercedes should know better. Those were the epic words used to warn someone away from an awesome quest. Pax was okay with doing an awesome quest, especially if it meant helping out his brother. Or annoying him. That would also work. He just needed some company questers.

 Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! This is Part I of a Ten Parter about Pax not... thinking things through... So, just a short story of the essence of Pax XD (All shorter chapters and fairly light hearted) Anyway, this entire story hasn’t been betaread, so I hope there aren’t too many mistakes! (I didn’t want to bother my friends with it >.<) I hope you guys are having an awesome weekend!

 [1] As you may have noticed: tiny Pax? Struggles with stereotypes. Older Pax? Struggles with nudity—okay wait. That doesn’t change. Well, at least he unlearns one bad habit.

[awkwardplantwrites]

Finding Magic Chapter Four

Posting early this week! 

Chapter 4: 2090 words / Reading time: 10 minutes

Genre: Fantasy/Adventure/Action

Find the chapter on wattpad (Bippick is my wattpad username)

New to the story? Missed some updates? Find all the chapters here on tumblr

(Artwork by @pe-ersona ~ Reblogs and comments are appreciated :D )

When Renato woke up the next morning, Pepi wasn't sitting by the door. Renato drew the curtains open and looked out the window. People pitched coloured tents in the town center, they hung triangles on strings between buildings, and children (or small people?) dressed in costumes of creatures he recognized from his folklore books. Someone knocked at the door.

"Come in," Renato said, rubbing his eyes.

Helaine walked in holding a hot drink that steamed. "Brought you a hangover cure. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, surprisingly. I don't even have a headache."

Helaine rolled her eyes and tutted. "To be young... Okay, in that case, this is a thank you for finding Rizze."

"Thank you. Or you're welcome? I would've brought him back even if you didn't serve me beverages." He took the drink from her and blew over the top, the liquid rippled. "You're ten years older than me, aren't you? Thirty-three is still young."

"A lot can change in ten years," she mused and sat on the bed. "For example, I travelled here from Bhārat as a merchant, selling my family's spices. Fell in love with a beautiful girl. Found myself at home in this town. Had an argument with my family that spanned hundreds of letters when I told them I wouldn't return. Opened a spice shop. Closed it. Re-opened and began selling flowers. Met a duo with outrageous ideas who pulled them off without a hitch. Earned a headache after a night of celebration..." Helaine grimaced and took a sip from her cup.

"What a wonderful way to spend ten years. Though last night was hardly without a hitch, we nearly got caught. Rizze kept scratching me on the way back too," Renato trailed off. "I think there's something going on with Pepi. He was cheerful last night, but it felt forced. Normally he waits until I wake up to wander off, but..." He gestured to the empty chair. "I'm not sure if I should ask him about it. Pepi's good at talking without saying much of anything at all."

"Kater is similar, I know how you feel."

"Don't you find it frustrating? How can you get along with someone who's like that? I feel like he's lying to me by not telling me the whole truth."

Taking another sip, Helaine was quiet as she thought. "It can be tiresome, having a relationship with someone who avoids issues when you'd rather confront them, get it over with. Kater gets so concerned about hurting my feelings."

Helaine pushed up her glasses. "Sometimes she avoids problems because she's indecisive, and would rather figure it out herself before giving me an answer. It's about trust. Sharing secrets means there's a chance the other person will learn the truth and never speak to them again. Or they'll think differently of that person for the rest of time. It's a vulnerable place to be. And it's not an unfounded fear, as no-one can predict the future."

"Try telling that to Pepi. He visited a diviner the other day."

"Kater tries to read her palms. She's convinced she'll die young because her'health line is shorter than average,'" Helaine chuckled. "You're a nice boy, I reckon Pepi trusts you but isn't ready to take down his emotional barriers. It's like a shield for him. He respects you too much and doesn't want to bother you."

Renato frowned. "Too much?"

"He's your squire, right?" Renato nodded. "That's not quite equal to a knight, is it? Especially not one chosen by a god." She scrunched her nose. "What does that mean exactly? How are you different from regular magic users?"

"Me spells are more powerful, and I'm able to use more magic than the average person. I can speak to Lidion if I stare long enough at some water. It's not all that special. Gives me a lot more work to do though."

"You're doing a great job. No-one would think you're ill," she remarked.

Renato blinked in surprise. "Apart from you, somehow."

"I like to pick up on the little things. They matter the most." Helaine smiled.

Nodding, Renato turned to look out the window again. "What's happening outside?"

Helaine peered out the window. "It's Spirt's Eve already? Oh, Kater will be in a hurry to set up decorations today. She's always leaving these things to the last minute."

"What's Spirit's Eve?"

Searching Renato's eyes, Helaine scrunched her nose. "It's a holiday, where we celebrate the lives of people who lived, and walk amongst beings and creatures from folklore."

"It looks exciting. We don't have holidays in Llantry."

"You celebrate nothing? You don't even have one day to share a feast? Or a day of rest?"

As Renato shrugged and shook his head, Kater's voice resounded through the Inn while she yelled.

"I'm telling you, I've met no one of the sort! Get out of my establishment!"

Pepi appeared at the door, poking his head through the crack. "I may have, uh, tipped off the folk at the manor about our location last night by accident. We should go."

Kater screamed downstairs. A glass smashed.

"Preferably now," Pepi added

Helaine rushed out the room. Renato threw his blanket to the side of the bed. He got dressed, brushing Pepi off when he tried to help, and told him to find a way out instead. Pepi left with Finlay trailing behind him, pulsing black and red light.

Renato stuffed his night clothes into his bag, taking out his pocket mirror for a moment to fix his hair. Pepi opened the door again.

"There's a patch of straw outside the hallway window," Pepi told Renato. "We have to jump, there's no other way out."

Wanting to protest, Renato opened his mouth, but closed it again when he realized he didn't have time to argue. The sound of shouting spurred him on. He clutched his bag to his chest and followed Pepi to the window. When it was his turn to jump, he sent a short prayer to Lidion, hoped he wouldn't break anything a healer couldn't fix, and leapt onto the straw. He landed with a roll and limped to the wagon, peeking at the front entrance of the Inn where Kater kept the Wakefield knights occupied. A man wearing an apron turned at the sound of their horse neighing, which Pepi tried to calm down, and he pointed in their direction.

"That's them! Hurry, before they get away!"

Renato tumbled into the back of the wagon, Pepi climbed into the jockey box and tugged at the reins.

"Bye Kater, Helaine! Nice meeting you for the first time, again!" Pepi yelled. "We'll come back someday. Save me some ale!"

Renato also called out a goodbye, waving from the rear of the wagon, then ducked down when the Wakefield knights started bombing them with spells. The wagon swerved, Pepi tried to dodge the spells and the tents on the street.

"Sorry!" Pepi shouted. "That pumpkin looked swell, carve another masterpiece, kid!"

Renato watched as the knights found a wagon of their own. "Pepi, they'll catch up soon, what do we do?"

"I don't know! You're the hero, figure something out, I'm driving!"

Searching for any tools, Renato noticed children hitting colourful horses with wooden sticks, which exploded with treats after being beaten. He grabbed the next one he found, snatching it off the string as children wailed. Ripping the horse apart, it revealed rock-solid cinnamon buns. Renato threw them at the knights chasing them.

"Are these supposed to be edible?" he cried.

They turned a sharp corner, and Renato lost his grip on the shredded treat filled horse, while Pepi struggled to steady the real horse. Renato watched the corner they'd passed, and a smile formed on his lips. They'd lost their chasers!

That smile vanished when the knights also turned the corner, using magic to propel their wagon to go faster.

"Stopcheating!" Renato made a face at the other wagon.

"Wha- are you a child?!" A knight he recognized from the previous night, who'd invited him to play Bone Crowns, shouted at him. "Stop your vehicle this instant!"

"I thought we were buddies!" Renato narrowly avoided being struck by another spell. "You said I was more fun than regular Larry, and I am! But I won't be if you try to kill me!"

"This isn't a game, you dunce!"

"It is so, now let me win!" Renato grabbed a flower basket, apologized to Helaine in his head, and threw it at the wagon. It hit a knight in the face. "Fifty points to me."

For a second they faltered, but they grew faster, eventually overtaking them. The knights banged the wagon into the side of theirs, tearing at the cover with daggers. Renato yelped and tried to stay on the safe side. Then Pepi cried out, and Renato saw they caught him in a magic rope that tied itself around his wrist. Their cart veered out of control. Renato raced over to the jockey box, yanking at the rope, which flew from the apron man's grasp. Unfortunately, that end of the rope tied itself around Renato's wrist, tying the two of them together. He scrambled for the reins with one hand and screamed with every ounce of energy in his body.

"LIDION, I NEED YOU! PLEASE!"

With a great gust of wind, Lidion answered his prayer; the wind slowed the other wagon down to a halt; the wheels snapped in half, rendering the knights immobile. For the first time in months, Renato laughed. It became hysterical, and he clutched his stomach when he saw the knights still trying to shoot spells at them as they rode away.

Then a ticking grenade landed inside the wagon and it wasn't funny anymore.

"Jump, Pepi!"

"I have to unharness the horse!"

"No time!" Renato pushed Pepi to the road.

The horse screeched in fear, racing on ahead with no-one to guide it. Lying on the road, Pepi and Renato shielded their eyes as the wagon exploded. A sharp, loud buzzing filled their ears. Pepi looked like he was shouting, but Renato couldn't hear his words. Looking back, he noticed the knights followed them on foot. He pulled Pepi up with the hand tied to him and ran past the wagon.

Pepi tried to go back for the horse but Renato had a firm grip on his hand and heaved the other man away from the scene. Glancing back at the knights, he saw they'd stopped running, standing at the outskirts of town where a sign stood, thanking them for visiting. He blew a raspberry at Wakefield and continued dragging Pepi as fast and far as they could go.

As Renato's hearing returned to normal, he noticed both their panting and slowed to a halt, shoving off his bag, collapsing alongside Pepi onto the grass. How far had they ran from Wakefield? He didn't know. It didn't matter as long as they were safe. He couldn't gather the strength to see where they lay. All he knew was: it was raining, the surrounding trees stood taller than any he'd ever seen, and Pepi's hand was warm in his.

"Pepi," he gasped. "Why didn't we take a boat?"

"... Shit. Wait, no, I can justify this! Uh... Do you know anyone who has a boat?" Finlay darted around Pepi, flashing a purple light.

"Well, no," Renato replied.

"Neither do I."

"We could have asked someone who has a boat though," Renato noted. "I don't think your reasoning covers up this plot hole or my wounded pride enough."

"In that case," Pepi breathed. "They enchanted the water around Adhur. See, Adhur's a low floating island. One too many ships bumped into it. So they cast a spell that meant no-one can sail near Adhur," Pepi explained. "Sailors get confused and go around it. The island has griffins that pick up people from the mainland."

Renato sighed. "Could've got a boat somewhere close to Adhur though."

"I get seasick?" Finlay began to turn orange. "Finlay stop giving me away, you're supposed to catch other people's lies not mine," Pepi whispered.

"Okay, and I'm afraid of large bodies of water. So that's why we couldn't sail. That makes a logical argument. I can sleep soundly knowing the plot makes sense."

"We could be sailors in another universe, another story." Pepi squeezed his hand.

Renato laced their fingers. "In another universe I'd be Rizze, sleeping all day in a sunny spot of The Ugly Snail."

Renato and Pepi wheezed with weak laughter, resting where they lay.

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[hopevalley]

What are your favorite and least stories from each Season and why?

Oh man, this is a really thought-provoking question! I’ll try to come up with good answers (even though sometimes the seasons blur together a little bit):

I’ll give some basic thoughts on each season and what worked/didn’t work for me.

Season 1

While I appreciate that they made the effort to have Elizabeth stick out (vs. blending in with all the Poors), she was downright unbearable at times in the early seasons. Her wanting to help and coming up with ideas is pretty decent in terms of story structure and even characterization/character motivation, but holy cow was it intrusive and nosy/patronizing of her sometimes! I think the point might have been to give Elizabeth flaws, which is great, but people just seemed to accept it, and her, too quickly, at least for my liking. A shame because I felt like her struggling to fit in would 1) be good for her character/force her to understand that to be accepted here she has to concede to giving up her former lifestyle, and 2) be a great, GREAT way for her and Abigail to bond and become friends, since this is something Abigail also struggled with!

So basically, the ‘story’ of Elizabeth coming to fit in in Coal Valley? Vaguely rubbish.

So much DID work, though, and could have been expanded upon for even better storytelling!!! This is especially true of the widows/related stories.

Loss of faith/faltering faith

Loss of personal identity

Moving on/past grief

Processing guilt 

Protecting the memory of a deceased loved one

We also had some great smaller personal stories.

Genius child has to work in the mine because there’s no one else ot take care of his family

Young man can’t read and has to work in the mine (and even after he does start learning how to read, probably doesn’t get to leave). Elizabeth still taking the time to try and help him still means something!

Season 2

I will never forgive the series for its convoluted attempt at a love triangle, here. Charles wasn’t unlikable, but he was OBVIOUSLY interested in Elizabeth romantically, and I don’t feel she’d be so stupid as to be blind to that, old chum or not.

Basically, it was one of the worst plots to ever exist on the show, because it just wasn’t believable in any capacity and felt like drama that existed to be a roadblock more than anything.

Also, not to whine, but Bill’s whole ‘counterfeit money’ plotline wasn’t very well-written.

The plot itself makes sense, but the way it bounced around seems to have just confused enough people that no one even remembers this was a thing.

That said, I think it was a good plot for the character... It was just not executed as well as it needed to have been to make a difference/really shine.

There are a lot of small things from S2 that were pretty nice, though.

Abigail’s fight to help Clara was meaningful, but I’m not sure how I feel about the addition of Clara from a writing standpoint. I feel like Abigail should have felt something was off about Peter’s trips from the start... The issue is that Hamilton is VERY far away and it’s VERY doubtful Peter would have ever gone there. Union City makes more sense if we’re talking about picking up shipments.

Tom and Julie were entertaining if nothing else.

I couldn’t tell you a single thing that happened in Hope Valley in S2, but I’m sure there were Events.

Season 3

Honestly I don’t think S3 had anything horrible in it. It just wasn’t very inspiring at times? It was like they had all these really good ideas but didn’t want to fully commit to any of them.

Henry Gowen was a star.

Frank was excellent in this season.

The biggest issue I have with this plot is simply that they didn’t take it all the way. Either he’s a dangerous man to allow to stay in town or he’s not. Saying he is doesn’t make it so. A rock through a window? Okay, sure...that’s threatening I guess. But it didn’t feel like enough to turn the whole town.

And again, having him barely doing anything even though he’d definitely be worried for Abigail and Cody’s safety is just inane.

Still, overall the whole thing was pretty good/well-done. Especially that unexpected turn at the end where Henry helped turn the tide. (I still wish that had gone somewhere and wonder even now if they had an idea they wanted to use and didn’t get the chance to.)

Abigail adopting children was nice. I wish Becky hadn’t been a part of it at all though. Like the IDEA is nice, but I can’t imagine she’d believe in it all as fast/readily as she does? This plotline just seemed great for Cody and meaningless to Becky, IMO.

But hey, the thing with Cody is meaningful enough. My issue is just that he’s like, 8 or 9 and remembers his parents very clearly, so I don’t think he’d be that willing to replace them. I guess it could just be his personality, but it might make more sense for him to be like 5-6 years old instead (less attached with fuzzier memories by this point if they’ve been on the run awhile).

Despite my qualms I think this was a pretty good story for Abigail. Just wish they hadn’t dropped her role as a mom as quickly as it felt they did.

Hattie was a good character and I enjoyed her introduction story. It was sad, but it felt good/satisfying.

Bill buying Henry’s share in the café was a great little thing. Maybe too convenient and itching for a story of its own (instead of it just happening), but overall a good idea.

Jack’s mom coming to town was entertaining. She had some really good lines. Lard in coffee. I mean...this was gold.

Season 4

The peddler was a cute addition but I didn’t much care for the overt magical element.

If it felt a little more real/grounded/down to earth I think I might have been more intrigued. 

Frank getting his original Bible back was a GREAT story but when they tried tying it into his vaguely stalker-like behavior? It just ruined the entire thing.

For what it’s worth, Frank’s character goes downhill pretty sharply in this season.

There were a lot of cute kid storylines in this one. But they weren’t all...great...

Robert telling the lie about the bear? Nice.

The kid with the knee brace? Ugh.

The storyline itself wasn’t bad!

But after Becky miraculously recovered the previous season it just felt like a slap in the face. I live with chronic pain and it’s just one of those things where I’d like a little representation somewhere.

I still think Becky should have stayed wheelchairbound.

I can’t get over how insulting it was that she just MIND OVER MATTER FIXED HERSELF. The writer who put that in there should be slapped, and the writer who wrote the saME GODFORSAKEN STORY AGAIN with this child should also be slapped.

I really feel that if they were gonna let Becky recover like that, this kid should be living with a permanent disability and this episode could deal with kids helping him play/doing activities he could participate and enjoy.

Maybe it’s too on-the-nose but the hardest part about a chronic illness/disability of any kind is the part where you lose things you loved to do that you considered a part of your identity. That’s an awfully deep storyline for WCtH, but they should have gone for it here.

Phillip was in between.

Phillip and his father were great, but Elizabeth was just SO incredibly awful. This is where she and Abigail started always being right about everything and I felt her involvement was unbearable.

They should have just let Faith take over Elizabeth’s role in that plot and it would have been way better. They could have had the eyesight issue earlier and done something great with it.

Frank and Abigail’s relationship at the beginning of this season was pretty interesting. Even though the whole “danger” thing was a little goofy, it was nice to see them communicating and adjusting. 

It felt like a natural issue people would actually have. And it wasn’t smoothly worked out, which is fine.

Also, Rosemary’s interference was hilarious.

RIP to the following:

Frank’s character after his earlier scene, because he doesn’t get anything else that’s actually in character.

Good writing because Carson is now the town hero he’s gonna save Cody from appendicitis because other doctors are just completely stupid!

Also Carson is a surgeon so TAKE THAT, regular doctors!

Doug. You were a real bro, my guy.

I DID like Doug’s role in the story, though. His death made some sense, but it was ill-timed. (How convenient that we only even hear of him moments before his death lol.)

AJ Foster is a highlight of S4 for me. I love her, and for the most part I love her introduction.

She’s such a pain in the neck, but she also talks a lot of sense.

The writing isn’t great for her, or for Bill in these scenes, but at least there was An Attempt™.

I appreciate that they introduced the idea of her much earlier in the season and built up to her actual appearance, which I couldn’t have guessed would be relevant early on.

Considering how the officers at my company hate our IRS auditor, I find the fact that AJ has enemies beyond believable.

Railroad shenanigans were pretty entertaining in this season, too.

Season 5

The last episode at least tried to be kind to the characters, so I appreciate it.

Elizabeth’s conversation with her father before her wedding was a highlight of the entire season.

AJ’s return plot was abysmal.

I’d be terribly embarrassed to have been the one to write this, especially considering how completely whack it feels next to the other plots.

I’ve ranted about this so many times I should have run out of steam but BOY is it cringey. This is the height of Bill-is-a-grumpy-old-man as a Thing in this series and this is probably when it is its worst.

The rattlesnake plotline was contrived as heck, but the only thing to make it worse was how weird everyone acted.

Rhonda was a good character and the plotline, if it wasn’t so rushed, would have actually been really great. I still liked it overall, though.

Frank’s send-off was dumb, but at least he got one on-screen.

I still can’t believe they killed their main romantic male lead off-screen.

What the heck...

Abigail was really, really annoying in this season, and so was Elizabeth. Unbearable.

Also, I still hate the pregnancy oooops~~ ♥♥ plot at the end of the grieving episode. Really? COME ON. I know they wanted to give the fans hope but it was jarring.

Season 6

I still HATE the nativity == baby Jack’s birth parallels. 

Why did they feel the need to do that. Why couldn’t we have just gotten pregnant Elizabeth shenanigans?

They put Jack’s DEATH ON THE TOMBSTONE like how is she popping out a baby less than two months later when she didn’t even know she wa---?F?DJSAFLJDSAFHLDSAL?

Abigail?

DELETED.

Thank goodness.

Bill?

Assassinated. Or at least, his character was.

This is bad. :(

On the plus side he gets promoted to the position of JUDGE...and barely does anything worthwhile with it...yet.

GODFATHER BILL. The best thing in this season.

Fiona?

A goddess. I love her.

Lucas?

Slimy.

But handsome.

The 4th Property Brother. He even tries his hand at renovating.

Nathan?

Honest and good.

Pretty cute.

Works together with Bill once in one of Bill’s only good scenes.

The oil plotline is actually pretty good/fun. Jesse and Clara get more scenes finally. 

Elizabeth isn’t the focus of everything.

Lee and Rosemary got like, no mention in any of these posts but mostly because it felt like they were never really doing anything before, but I did feel like they were given a little more meaningful lines/places in this season.

--

How’s this for an attempt? :P I’m probably missing A LOT but I can’t recall everything too easily!

[millennium-thejiaqiverse]

Chapter 1: The “Angel Plague”

Summary: Inspired by a real life fungus, I present to you the “angel plague”, (a very unofficial name, taken from the shape of the mushrooms). Miles is even infected by this fungus when he’s at school (probably not in the way you’re thinking of). He is rescued by the mysterious young woman from Chapter 0–but her identity is no longer a mystery in this chapter... well, only partially.

“Alright, this is the spot, into the water,” Rose cheers, “way to go everyone! The green flag is not more than 300 meters away in the mangroves, we’re almost there, stay safe!” “Oh, great... gosh you’re loud.” Tyler roles his eyes as the team holds on to the float they built whilst waist deep in water. Tinaye sighs and gives him a pat on the shoulder, “C’mon, let’s tie our float down.” “Last check, we have enough fresh water, handy tools...” Elly checks with everyone, “and we’re right on time; yup, we’re all set.”

Miles cannot really pay much mind to the group assignment, he cannot stop thinking about the cancerous plane, and the mysterious young woman who fueled it.

“Watch out for crabs and alike, just a heads up.” Rose calls out to everyone, poking a stick at the path ahead. “Are we there yet?” Tyler impatiently follows her footsteps. “We have enough time before the tides rise, what’s even the rush dude?” Remarks Adele. Before Tyler can make an annoyed grunt a shadow dashes over their heads, closely followed by Miles’s yelp. “*gasps* Miles!” Rose stops. “Woah are you ok?” Ryan quickly rushes to his aid. Barnacles, of course. “That was stupid, I got startled.” Miles shakes his head. Just as he says this some bird noises sound from above. “Ooh, the pied imperial pigeon agrees with you.” Nick winks. “Cut it out!” Miles snickers. “Sit down on this plank for us Miles,” Tinaye pulls out a wooden plank from his pack and lays it down onto sturdy ground. “We’ll just check your leg,” Ryan calmly gets to work, “Nick, would you take a step back? And watch your step please.” “K I’ll let you two do your thing, take care of my boy!” Nick swiftly backs away. “You’re lucky it’s just a small bruise,” Ryan sighs, “but this will still cost you some points on this assignment, be careful.” “Thanks, I know I need to pay more attention.” Miles agrees. “Ha, looks like the nerd is not always perfect! Now he’s slowing us down!” Tyler boos at Miles. “Hey!” Nick crosses his arms. “Tyler!” Ryan retaliates, “we’ve still got work to do, so the next thing coming outta your mouth better be useful! I’m being serious!” “Pff, fine!” Tyler throws his arms up in defeat.

After that is more wading through the mangrove growth, keeping hydrated and in the end climbing a tree to fetch their flag.

“Is this it for today?” Adele asks. “Yes, we’ll carry on further tomorrow.” Elly confirms. “Wow it’s so easy working with you guys, my last team sucked so hard.” Adele comments. “Haha, we liked you too girl!” Rose smiles. “That’s nice to hear, well I’m going offline.” Adele tells the team. “Catch you tomorrow!” Nick waves to her, “so what about the rest of you? Shall we all log off?” “Finally!” An answer from Tyler. “Sheesh, Ty...” Nick frowns.

After taking off their VR equipment (i.e. everything they experienced was simulated for the assignment, including Miles’s bruise) and exiting the group projects hall, Nick sprints up to Miles.

Miles is now thinking hard about his bday dreams, mindlessly walking forwards. “Hey Miles, what’s up?” Nick nudges Miles with his elbow. “Huh?” Miles jumps a little. “Tell me! What’s on your mind?” Nick presses, “is it your bday dream?” “Yeah, it’s nothing major, do you really want to hear it again?” Miles laughs. “I’ve known you for more than 10 years, I am positive I know everything about you, like how I can just tell something’s different with this last dream!” Nick is very confident. He’s right, but for one Nick never knows about all this “magic” stuff, however that must remain secret for safety reasons, Miles thinks. Only Nick’s constant begging does make Miles tell him about a little of what happened, “... just like that, she woke up, stood up, and before I could react disappeared along with the whole place. I barely got out before all is gone myself.” “Dude, what?” Asks Nick, “that was your dream?!!” Well, it was not exactly a dream, part of it was very real, Miles thinks to himself but decides to go along with it, “yeah, just a regular dream...” “You’ve got to write this down! Like as a novel or something, your dream is crazy stuff! Good stuff!” Nick says with excitement. “That’d be nice, but I don’t want to forget everything else and type away nonstop like a lab monkey all day,” Miles can’t help but think of his writer dad, “guess it’s not my lifestyle.” “Pshh whatevs,” shrugs Nick, “you coming to the cafeteria today?” “Nah, I’ll be in the lounge as usual, I really need some rest.” Miles replies. “Well ok, don’t let those dreams get carried away.” Nick teases him. “I won’t!” Miles says as they go their separate ways.

A few students are napping in the lounge already. Miles finds an empty spot and climbs in for a nap, he gets tired and needs sleep too often, much to his annoyance.

As soon as he’s asleep, Miles exits his body as he usually does—the best way for his physical body to unconsciously recharge when at the same time his consciousness has the freedom to carry out other tasks. With his consciousness out of his body, Miles brings questions about his bday dreams and the young woman to his mentor. While he’s getting the answers universes away, a sense of something being out of ordinary brings him to promptly return to the school lounge. Miles watches as a battered shadow person tries to take over his currently vacant body, one of their hands grabbing onto his ankle. “No, you can’t do that,” he says to them. The being turns to look at his out-of-body consciousness with surprise. “You’re not even supposed to be getting onto this plane of existence, you need to go back to your plane.” Miles tells them as he pulls them away from his body, “people will freak out when they see you, let’s get you back home.” The mention of “home” seems to freak the shadow being out, but before they could retaliate Miles is already on their plane with them. “There you go,” Miles drops them off. The shadow person gets into fetal position the second Miles removed his hand from them. “Huh, ok?” Miles is a little confused at this, “you take care of yourself.” Then he leaves and gets back to his body, not thinking much about the glittery dusts floating around that plane.

Waking up, Miles readies himself for his last personal assignment before midterms, which he planned to complete this afternoon. Unexpectedly, Miles started feeling quite sick before he puts his VR equipment on. “You good Miles?” Nick is right next to him preparing for his assignment. “I don’t know,” weirdly, Miles feels more tired after his nap, “maybe I didn’t rest well this time somehow?” “You look ill, and you’re never ill, *snickers* my mom jokes that germs and stuff burn off before reaching you.” Nick says, “my point being you should take this afternoon off and rest at home, if you still feel ill then go to your doctor. I mean, you are in no condition to nail your last assignment anyway.” “You’re right Nick, guess this is all for me today,” Miles smiles, “good luck.” “Thanks, get well soon!” Nick says as he puts on his headset.

“Afternoon son!” Max calls out from his study. “Hey dad,” Miles slams into bed as soon as he enters his room. He is ready to sleep it all off, however, a little too late for his liking he senses a intruder who’s blended in with the room almost perfectly. Not knowing who’d be there, Miles jolts up and throws an attack at the intruder, only to witness his attack pass straight through her like she’s not really there. “... You?” Miles realizes it is the mysterious young woman again, but before he could ask why she’s here, he’s already suspended in midair. Max doesn’t hear all this commotion as there’s a “bubble of silence” around the room. She then proceeds to pull something white and shining out of Miles’s body, which quickly withers and turns to dust, and afterwards drops him to the floor. “Before you sensed my presence I was going to wait till you’re asleep, as silly as it sounds now as I learnt you’ll discover me anyways;” she explains, “you were infected by a fungus that latches onto one’s consciousness in order to drain one’s life energy to produce it’s spores.” “What?” Miles cries. “Apologies if I frightened you, as I’m only here to help, I’ll be on my way as I have work to do.” She turns to leave. “How was I infected? Wait!” Miles asks. “You were in contact with its spores when you ventured to an infected dimension, the dimension I plan on taking out altogether before the fungus crosses over and grows all over this universe.” She explains in a hurry. “You can’t take out a plane like that,” Miles tells her, “some creatures might need those places to reside at the very least.” “A plane?” She raises an eyebrow. “You call them dimensions, I think,” Miles then suggests, “wouldn’t removing just the fungus be a better option? I’ll help with that.” “Yes, you’re not wrong,” she accepts the suggestion, “this will take longer than my original plan but it’ll do.” She rushes off, ignoring Miles’s offer to help. Well, feeling much better now, Miles decides to follow her and check on things; but how to repel the spores if they infect one’s consciousness? That’s when Miles hatches an idea.

Miles goes out of body again, but this time, using the Junction, Miles sends only his physical body onto the young woman’s trail, to the other plane with the glittery dusts he’s just visited not long ago, his consciousness doesn’t go with it and stays at this plane right in his room.

She’s already busy pulling the fungus off of suffering creatures, and gathering spores from bursting fungus growths, meanwhile making sure no creature is sneaking off to another plane with this ongoing infestation. “This dimension is dangerous for you...” she says, then suddenly pauses, “you sent your physical vessel?” Hearing this question from afar, Miles controls his body to give her a nod with its head. “That’s pretty creative,” she continues drawing all parts of the fungus away from any present consciousness. Guessing what she should be up to, Miles controls his body to make a sphere of fire, meanwhile keeping tabs on the whole plane from the outside himself to make sure nothing exits. She sees the sphere and uses it burn the parts she gathered, very soon the plane is clear of this fungus.

“All done!” She calls out and extinguishes the flaming sphere, “you should have seen this—the growing fungus looks like some messed up angel wings.” Upon hearing her call, Miles quickly gets there, back into his body, “Great job, the problem’s solved.” “Yes, great job to us.” She smiles, “hello Miles.” “Hello Ray,” Miles greets her back. “Funny how we’re now introduced to each other again,” Ray says. “Yeah, considering the fact we’ve met not long before on a cancerous plane, and not to mention in a previous life too.” Miles adds. “You know about your reincarnation.” Ray is surprised to hear what Miles said. “I asked my mentor when I napped today,” Miles says, “well, I asked why I kept having the same dream with you in it every time on my birthday up until we met in person and how I think I know you, I guess I didn’t think too much about that before.” “Your mentor?” Ray wonders. “Atlas.” Miles replies. “Oh,” Ray pauses for a while, “How much do you remember?” Ray asks then changes the subject, “and thank you for waking me up back when we met face to face.” “No problem.” Miles then answers, “I know we were friendly with each other because you wanted to help me, I know you are a very powerful energy folder as Atlas had told me so; but I can probe further, your highness...” Miles probes on, “Crown Princess Ray of... hold on...” his mind blurs out of nowhere. The cause of that was Ray’s interference. “I’m sorry,” Ray turns away. “That’s ok, I don’t really have to know.” Miles shrugs it off, but she’s disappeared away to somewhere else by then. Miles sighs, lowering his head... and sees the same shadow person grabbing onto his ankle, again. “You seem to be doing ok,” Miles looks at them. After staring at each other for a while, the shadow being lets go without incident.

“So how did school go? I assume you finished early today?” Max asks his son at the dinner table. “Well, I didn’t finish my personal assignment yet, I guess I was a little too tired.” Miles digs in to the simple but nutritious meal, “that’s not a issue though, I’ll be fine.” “I’m not too worried there son, we have 2 more days before Orientation Day, I’m sure you’ll manage just fine.” Yup, Miles assures himself, finishing up this assignment is surely easier than almost dying from then having to dispel some angle-wing-shaped-fungus plague.

[bixgirl1]

I think I saw you say somewhere that have a squick of self harming in fan fictions and that's what you don't like right? Do you have other ones and what do you like ?

Hi nonnie!  Yep, a squick is something that, when reading, a person tends to avoid. It can be an outright trigger or simply something that makes the reader crinkle their nose and shake their head before closing out. It’s a fairly universal term in fandom that helps to explain why you won’t/can’t/don’t like reading something, and the beauty of it is that, once the word is used, no further explanation is (or should be) required — because sometimes there is no further explanation, you know? Sometimes you just… don’t like something. 

As for my personal squicks/likes/and dislikes, that requires a longer answer, so I’m going to put it under a cut.

The short answer is yes and no. Self-harm can be a squick of mine — but it very much depends on how it’s handled, and its context. It’s something I’ll usually avoid reading if I see it in the tags and am not familiar enough with the author to feel safe reading it, which is something I take into account. If I see a story posted by an author that I’ve liked but have never read anything from them approaching that tag, I’ll probably wait to see if they’ll post a fic with similar but more gentle tags/content to see if their style/thought processes on the subject line up with my own. Other writers, whose work I’ve consumed to the point where I feel comfortable enough with their headspace, I’ll dive right in.

That being said, honestly, these days I have very few hardline squicks —  scat-play and/or vomit-play are two, and suicide and self-harm edge very close as well (with the caveat from above). When I was less familiar with fandom, more untried, I had — or thought I had — a lot. lol. That can happen, I think; it can be really terrifying to edge out of your comfort zone. But then you read absolutely every long, plotty drarry a writer offers, every short, hot bit of smut, and there are these other ones lingering with tags like incest or dub/non-con or major character death or infidelity, and think “hmmm.” All of those are still listed in my ‘know the author first’ file, but I’ve learned I can love some stories with those tags. But that’s me. Not everyone will want to venture out of their comfort zones, and that’s fine. Great, even! Fanfic allows us a lot of wonderful things, and one of those can be escapism. So never let anyone make you feel bad about sticking to the things you like; this is all just relevant to my personal fic tastes.

And regarding those, in answer to your other question — I know I’ve got a list somewhere, lj or dw maybe, with a pretty full list of my likes and dislikes and squicks, but I haven’t updated it in a long time, so:

(I’m applying these to Harry/Draco, but I’ll read a bunch of other pairings too. Harry/Teddy, Draco/Albus, some Jeddy and Scorbus, Harry/Sirius, a bit of Wolfstar, James Sirius/Albus Severus, Romione, and Pansmione are probably my faves)

Squicks and/or squick-ish content (ie, stuff my friends would never put in a gift fic for me. lol) I’ll only read if I know the writer very well and trust them (asterisks next to the ones I’m more rigid about):

-Suicide**

-Self-harm (especially cutting)**

-Vomit/scat play***

-Major character death

-Unhappily ambiguous endings

-Character bashing*** (to be fair, if a writer does this, I don’t usually like a lot of their stuff)

-Endings (happy or unhappy) where my preferred couple doesn’t end up together**

That’s it. And I make exceptions.

General fic dislikes that I’ll “psh” if I’ve read a couple of the writers things and like them, but that still have the ability to turn me off of a story real quick:

-Non-con

-Massive deviations from canon characterization. (Meaning: Draco is incredibly flamboyant and there’s no explanation or hints as to why/how he’d become so; Harry hates Ron; Ron is stupid; Hermione is a perky prop, etc. I’m perfectly fine reading most things if I understand why they’re that way.)

-Infidelity

-Also, when mental health issues are addressed (I tend to write about them a lot), I dislike grandstanding about them as much as I dislike them being glossed over, if that makes any sense. If I want to read detailed explanations about mental illness, I’ve got about two dozen textbooks I can refer to; alternately, if trauma is brought up in the fic, there needs to be (for me), some exploration of it.

-Permanent disability fics

-Fisting

-Muggle AU’s

-Mpreg — very rarely (usually just because I’m not often in the mood for it)

-Schmoopy fluff. (I don’t mind the sweet, but I don’t want to get cavities)

-Bloodplay

Now, for the fun ones!

Fic likes:

-Tropes. I’m a trope whore, I admit it. I love so many of them they should probably get a subcatagory of my favorites. lol.

-Forced Proximity

-Bed-Sharing

-Eighth Year

-Auror Partners

-Powerful!Harry

-Controlled!Draco (magically, for both; I like ‘em skilled as hell)

-Wandlore

-Master of Death lore

-Aristocratic Draco (or bad boy Draco, or fucked up Draco…I like Draco a lot, okay?)

-Flirting

-UST

-Pining

-Banter and snark

-Friends to lovers

-Lovers to friends to more

-Dub-con where they both enjoy it

-Sex Pollen

-Antagonism

-Veela/Creature Fic

-Smart Harry (let’s give the boy some credit, can we???)

-Harry, Ron, and Hermione staying close

-Rescuing/being protective (I don’t care who rescues and who does the rescuing, though I tend to think of Harry as the rescuer more often than not. But I like when there’s an exchange.)

-Life debts

-Legilimency

-Accidental (or, hell, intentional) bonding

-Humor

-Angst with a happy ending

-Harry’s and Draco’s hair/eyes being described as they are in the books

-The first time they call each other by their first names being significant

-Fics that focus as much (or more) on characterization and relationship development as they do on outside plot

And a bunch more of these too.

Sex and sexual kinks:

-Draco. God yes. Put him in robes or a sharp suit or torn jeans and mmmmmmsfdhdfhlgjhuihghlhd. I like Draco being noticed. (*whispers* Objectified, even, especially if Harry doesn’t realize he’s doing it.)

-Vice versa Harry.

-Rimming

-Spanking

-Rentboys

-Sexual power plays

-One of them being experienced, the other not so experienced.

-Both of them being hella experienced

-Topping from the bottom (and also the top).

-Bottoming from the top (and also the bottom lol)

-Dirty talk

-Trust games (blindfolds, tying someone up)

-Fingering

-Post-sex fingering

-Flaccid cocks getting played with; proprietary touches.

-First times

-Dom/sub dynamics (with clear boundaries and safewords)

-Gentle sex

-Extended foreplay

-Semi-public sex

-Magical sex objects

-Cleaning spells (thank fuck for the magical world, amiright?)

-Messy blowjobs

-Kissing. Lots of kissing.

-Angry sex that turns into more

-Frantic sex

-Partially-clothed sex

-Frotting/grinding

-Teasing

-I might have a bit of a foot kink? lol

-Confidence

-Timidity/nerves

-Coming untouched

-Handjobs

-Shower/bath

Aaannnd most other sexual kinks you don’t see listed under my squicks or dislikes.

So there you go. A non-comprehensive guide to what I like and look for in a fic. Like I said, I’m not too picky about my dislikes these days (if I was, I wouldn’t be reading puppy play or consensual non-con or double penetration, and there are fics with those contents that have blown me the fuck away), but it’s really a personal thing. Kink tomato, and Fic Tomato (which idk if the latter is a thing, but I hope everyone gets what I mean. lol).

Thanks so much for the ask, nonnie!  It was a bit of a treat to stop and really consider how my fic likes and dislikes have changed over the last couple of years. Highly recommend you making your own list — and never letting anyone make you feel bad about it! ;D