#until it LITERALLY cannot be avoided any longer

[29121996]

.

[cameronluvr]

GUESS WHO — rafe cameron x fem!reader x barry x fem!reader

summary: after fooling around with both rafe and barry at separate times, you fall pregnant and have to figure out which of them is the father. you gain the courage to tell both of them with sarah’s help.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, slut shaming (by rafe), kinda toxic!rafe, reader is 18 + rafe is 20 + barry is 22, crying, arguing, mentions of weed, cussing, name calling (whore, bitch, slut, all by rafe ofc), — lmk if i missed any! ≽ܫ≼ ⭒

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you’d been on and off sleeping with both rafe and barry behind each others backs for weeks now. you don’t want rafe to know about barry, and vice versa, as you were afraid of them both killing each other.

sure, there was a chance they could’ve told each other, but they weren’t that close to exchange details about their sex life. they hung out a lot, but they weren’t exactly friends.

you couldn’t pin who was better, though, they’re equally as good as each other. rafe had a slightly longer dick, but barry had thicker girth. you were literally so cock drunk that you couldn’t give up one for the other. you needed both…

… until you’re sat on the bathroom floor three weeks later, crying while clutching onto a positive pregnancy test.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you place your hands on your head after tossing the test across the room, gliding your fingers through your hair to calm yourself down. you stand up now, breathing loudly, quickly and heavily as you can’t help but panic.

you’re pregnant at 18 with two possible baby daddies. how are you possibly supposed to keep calm?

you have zero idea of what to do. you can’t tell barry because it might not be his, for the same reason you cannot tell rafe. fuck. what have you gotten yourself into?

after some more minutes go by of you panting, crying and overthinking, you finally manage to reduce your tears and calm yourself down enough to call sarah, one of your best friends.

“y/n! hey girl” she answered almost immediately, sounding happy to hear from you. she hadn’t seen you in about three days because you were sick, and now you know why.

“hey sar, i uh— can i see you? i kinda need someone right now…” you ask, sniffling and rubbing your tears away. “are you okay? what happened?” she asks in a concerned tone. “uh, i’ll tell you in person… it’s easier.” you gulp, feeling anxious as hell. rafe’s her brother, and you don’t exactly want to tell her you’ve been seeing her brother, as well as barry.

“yeah, that’s okay, you wanna come over?” sarah asks kindly, making you think for a second. what if rafe’s home? you sure as hell don’t want to talk to him about this, not yet anyway… you can just avoid him if he is home, you guess.

“okay, yeah, thanks… i’ll be there soon” you smile, wiping the rest of your tears away as you hang up the phone. you’re glad to have a friend like sarah, she’s always there for you no matter what… you leave your house and begin making your way to tannyhill, arriving around 15 minutes later.

you walk up to the house and knock on the front door, hearing fast footsteps banging down the stairs from inside. sarah opens the door, smiling at you before pulling you into a hug. neither of you let go of the hug, and stood there for a good minute before pulling away. “come upstairs, come on” she holds your hand, walking to the stairs with you.

you both walk upstairs and into sarah’s bedroom, where she closes the door for some privacy. “sit down” she tells you, walking over to her bed and both sitting down next to each other. “what’s going on?” she asks, sitting close to you and brushing your hair out of your face with her fingers before resting her hand on your shoulder, rubbing it to comfort you.

“uh… fuck, it’s quite a lot.” you sniffle, looking down to anxiously fiddle with your hands. “it’s okay, you can tell me anything” she reassures you, seeing you nod. “well, uh… i don’t even know how to say this, but… fuck. i’m pregnant.” you blurt out, seeing her entire face drop. “y—what?!” she widens her eyes, her hand on your shoulder now feeling like a frozen grip.

“…yeah” you nod, gaining the courage to look her in the eyes, which only made you tear up again for some reason. “oh my god— what! with who?!” she asks with utter shock and confusion, and slight excitement.

“uh,” you hesitate. “that’s kinda the thing…” your eyes wander away from hers, wanting to avoid answering but you know you have to say now. “it’s not like, jj, is it?” she asks, snickering to make a joke out of the situation, which seemed to make you laugh.

“no, no, it’s way worse” you reply with a laugh, making her truly wonder who. “pope?” she asks, seeing you shake your head. “… rafe.” you say, too afraid to admit the other possible father right now.

her face dropped more than it did last time. the room falls silent for a second as she takes a while to gather her words. “r—rafe?!” she asks, less excited and more afraid now. “yes, but—” you try to say, but she cuts you off.

“you’ve been sleeping with rafe?! my brother? why?” she asks, feeling sorry for you for even going close to him, given how crazy and mean he is. “i don’t know—”

“but, why rafe? he’s a fucking psycho. he’s my brother, i know him more than anyone. you do not want to have a baby with him y/n—” she tries to advise you, but you haven’t told her the rest yet.

“sar.” you cut her off, “what?”

“it might not be rafe’s, is what i’m trying to say…” you tell her, seeing all sorts of different emotions portrayed on her face. “what the hell do you mean by that?!” she asks, raising her voice but not loud enough for any of her relatives to hear. “i’ve been seeing rafe, yeah, but i’ve been seeing someone else too, but i don’t know who’s worse” you tell her.

“who can possibly be worse than rafe?” sarah asks, not thinking for a second that there’s anyone out there as demented as her brother. “uh, barry… that drug dealer g—”

“barry?!?! y/n!” sarah stands up from her bed now in pure disbelief. “i know, sar,” you sigh, feeling stupid for being with either of them. “so you’re telling me you’re pregnant and you don’t know who the dad is, and it could be rafe or barry?” she asks, repeating the story to you to make sure she got it straight. you nod, seeing her pace around her room in shock.

“y/n!!! you know for a second i thought jj would’ve been a shock, but those two?!” sarah says, thinking about how close you and jj were at one stage. the only reason you never dated him before was because of the whole ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule.

“sar, trust me, i know it looks fucking bad, but i do not know what to do…” you tell her. she sighs, trying to come up with a way to help you. “well, first off, do you want to keep it or no?” she asks, sitting back down next to you on the bed.

“… no, fuck, i don’t know. i don’t want either of their babies, but i don’t know if i can have an abortion… what will my parents think?” you overthink, terrifying yourself even more. “fuck what they think. what do you want?” she asks. you hadn’t thought about it too much before, you didn’t know if you wanted kids or not, you weren’t expecting it so soon…

“i don’t know what i want…” you say, your eyes filling up with tears once again. “do you know how far along you are?” she asks, trying to get as much information as possible to help you. “no…” you shake your head, wiping the tears falling from your eyes.

“don’t cry, come here” she comforts you, pulling you into a tight hug and stroking your hair. you can’t help but cry as you nuzzle your face into her shoulder, trying hard to not break down. “i’m here for you, okay?” she says, feeling you nod against her. “we can book a doctors appointment together, yeah? i’ll help you with whatever you need” she reassures, being the best friend.

“thank you…” you sniffle, lifting your head up to wipe your eyes. all of a sudden, the bedroom door opens, making you both dart your eyes towards it. “what’re you doin’ here?” rafe asks, peeking his head into the room. “get out, rafe” sarah strictly tells him, making him frown. “why you cryin’?” he looks at you, ignoring his little sister.

“rafe, leave her alone!” sarah raises her voice now, picking up a pillow and throwing it at him. “chill out, dude, she’s my friend too” rafe argues back with his sister as he fully enters the room. “i don’t care, get out of my room” sarah is adamant on getting him out, standing up from the bed to try to force him out.

“what’s wrong with you?” rafe asks, pushing her away as she tries to push him out of the open door. “no, what’s wrong with you!” sarah argues, the two of them bickering back and forth until you were fed up. “stop it, guys” you stand up from the bed, attempting to separate them from each other.

they stopped once you told them to stop, which made sarah give her brother a weird look. he’s never listened to anyone that fast before, he really is into you. “rafe, just come in” you say, needing to tell him sooner or later. you pull him by his arm away from the door so you could shut it fully, now standing face to face with him. “what’s wrong?” he asks, seeing how upset you are.

“it’s a long story rafe…” you sigh, not knowing how he’ll react to the baby news, but certainly knowing how how he will to barry. “i’m all ears.” he tells you. “why are you acting like that?” sarah frowns at her brother, wondering why he’s being so soft. “shut up, let her talk” rafe shushes his sister without looking at her, his eyes are on you. sarah had seriously never seen him like this before.

“rafe… i’m pregnant.” you sigh, not wanting to explain all over again knowing he’ll have a completely different reaction to sarah. his eyebrows raise, and mouth drops. “really?” he asks, not seeming entirely happy. obviously he’s going to automatically assume it’s his, considering how many times you’ve fucked over the past month.

“yeah, but…” you say, hesitating again. “but what?” he asks, his tone more serious now. “uh…” you literally don’t know what to say. sarah sees you struggling, and sighs. “it might not be yours, rafe” sarah says, telling him so you don’t have to. the room falls silent for a second as you both watch his face completely change to angry.

“what?” he frowns his brows with squinted eyes, looking at you as if you were crazy. “…you’re not my boyfriend, rafe. i do, y’know, see other people” you tell him, seeing him shake his head. “i don’t care, what the fuck? i’ been fuckin’ you, for you to fuck other guys?” his voice raises now. “rafe—” sarah tries to say, but he cuts her off with a ‘shh’.

“it’s not ‘other guys’, it’s one other guy. besides, i’m not your girlfriend so what i do is none of your business.” you defend yourself, pointing a finger at him. “none of my business?!” he yells, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. “you being a fucking slut is none of my business?” he asks, infuriated.

“rafe!” sarah gasps.

“yeah, i’m definitely a slut.” you scoff a laugh, shaking your head at his idiocy. you aren’t together, he hasn’t asked you out, so what makes him think you belong to him only?

“yeah, you are. if i knew you were a whore i wouldn’t’ve fucked your sorry ass in the first place,” rafe belittles you, always believing he was above you because you’re a pogue. “she’s not a whore, don’t be such a dick!” sarah argues with her brother, not liking the way he’s speaking to you.

“shut up, sar, that’s why you two are best friends. just two little slutty bitches together” he scoffs, shaking his head as he laughs at you both. “oh, and you’re not?!” sarah laughs back at him. “yeah, you’ve literally slept with half the girls on the island, and we’re the sluts?” you add.

“right,” rafe scoffs, finding your words amusing. “who’s the other guy?” he asks, changing the topic, looking at you with an intimidating expression. “…it doesn’t matter.” you gulp, side eyeing sarah for a quick second.

“what the fuck was that for?” rafe caught onto the way you looked at sarah, which made him immediately suspicious. “nothing—”

“what’re you hiding from me, y/n?” he asks, taking a step closer which made you gulp, looking up at him as he towers over your vulnerable self. “i’m not hiding nothing!—”

“then tell me who the hell you fucked.” he demands, his lip quivering in rage. “… barry. there, ya’ happy?” you spill out since he wanted to know so bad. he falls silent for a moment before laughing at you. “barry? drug dealer barry? are you fuckin’ serious?” he went from angry to enraged, yelling at you now.

you don’t answer, you only look up at him with tears in your eyes, which tells him that you are being serious. “you— what the fuck? you been goin’ behind my back and fuckin’ barry?” he yells, making you flinch. “rafe, barry doesn’t know either—” sarah tries to help, seeing him turn to look at her for a second before looking back at you. “you really are a fuckin’ whore, you know that?” he laughs angrily, trying to maintain his sanity. “tell him. go fuckin’ tell him, cause either way you’re gonna abort that thing.” he yells, looking you up and down in disgust. “am i?!” you ask at his audacity. it’s your decision, not his nor barry’s.

“yeah, you fuckin’ are. cause even if it is mine, i don’t want nothin’ to do with it.” he cruelly tells you, his face just inches away from yours. your lips quiver as you can’t help but cry now. his mean words seriously hurt your feelings.

“good luck with barry” he sarcastically scoffs a laugh before turning around and completely walking out of the room, slamming the door shut after him. his angry footsteps lead to his own room, where you hear the door slam shut from down the hallway.

“y/n…” sarah says, quickly pulling you into a hug. you hug her back and sob for a minute, before pulling away to wipe your eyes. “fuck” you whisper to yourself, thinking about what to do now.

“i’m gonna go to barry’s.” you say, grabbing your phone from sarah’s bed and putting it in your pocket. “are you sure? do you want me to come with you?” she asks. “no, it’s okay. i don’t think he’s gotten over the time you supposedly robbed him” you roll your eyes, talking about the pogues. “true” she shrugs it off, seeing your point, he probably wouldn’t react well to seeing her.

— after leaving sarah’s, you head over to barry’s trailer, where you see him sitting out on his porch, smoking a joint. you walk up to him and grab his attention, making him look at you. “hey, pretty girl” he grins once he saw you, removing the joint from his lips. barry’s nickname for you was pretty girl. he always called you it, no matter how you looked.

you smile with a blush, seeing him pat the empty space next to him, motioning for you to come sit. “y’alright? what you here for?” he asks, setting his joint aside on the table in front of him once you sit down. “uh, i need to talk to you actually…” you say, giving him a serious look. “what’ you need to talk about?” he looks into your eyes, giving you his full attention.

“please don’t freak out when i tell you this but,” you sigh. “don’t freak out? what is it?” he asks, frowning at you, kinda freaking out now since you told him not to… “long story short. i’m pregnant,”

“oh shit,”

“but, but… i’ve been seeing someone else too, so i don’t know if it’s yours or not…” you decide to just straight up tell him instead of leading it on.

“damn, who else you been fuckin’?” he asks with an amusing grin on his face, not knowing what to think. he doesn’t know you too well, he’s just your weed dealer, and he isn’t obsessed with you like rafe is. “…rafe.” you awkwardly tell him, knowing he’ll laugh, and of course, he laughed. “country club?”

“damn, girl, you just foolin’ around huh?” he asks with an amused grin. “i guess” you shrug. “so yo’ baby daddy is either me or rafe cameron?” he asks, seeing you nod. “damn.” he says again, running his hand through his hair. his reaction was way less meaner and angrier than rafe’s was, which you were entirely thankful for.

“i know, i’m sorry… i told rafe like 20 minutes ago and he flipped the fuck out. telling me to abort it, calling me a whore and shit,” you sigh. “he can be one sensitive son of a bitch, bruh.” he shakes his head. “what are you gonna do, tho’?” he’s curious to know. “i have no idea. i mean, i don’t want a kid right now, especially not rafe’s,” you say, giving him a crazy look.

“and i mean, you’re a drug dealer… my parents won’t particularly be too happy about that.” you say, seeing him nod in understanding. “well, whatever you decide to do, i’ll be here for you, k?” he looks at you, gently placing his hand on your leg for comfort.

“… thank you, barry, that means a lot” you smile at him, letting him know how grateful you are to have someone other than sarah be here for you right now, given that rafe probably doesn’t want to speak to you ever again.

“no problem, pretty girl, y’want somethin’ to eat?” he asks before standing up and walking to the trailer door, opening it and turning to look at you for your response. “what you got?” you giggle, seeing him motion for you to follow him. you stand up and join him, walking to his kitchen together.

at least one of the possible dads is trying.

a kinda long one for u guys to make up for being gone for a couple of days!! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ i love this one. rafe is always a little bitch 😩 i hope you guys enjoy + thank you for all the support on my previous fics! you’re all the best ㅤㅤᵕ̈ // not proofread. if you spot any mistakes please feel free to correct me 🎀

@cameronluvr

[tired-biscuit]

Cockwarming kiba as a punishment for him being jealous but he literally cannot stand it and instead tries to fuck you wildly 😩

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: cockwarming, jealousy, degrading (reader gets called names), lots of bickering, kind of a sweet ending, established relationship.

↳ you wear a skirt that your boyfriend thinks is much too short for his own personal comfort. after he shares his (mostly unwanted) opinion on it, an argument ensues for which you both end up paying for.

all kiba wants to do is pound your pussy. but instead of doing that, he’s being forced to sit completely still, while you literally soak his cock as punishment.

it all happens so quick, neither of you remembers who had made the first move as a means to connect in the midst of the storm that is your argument. one second you were screaming at him, losing your shit and acting ‘batshit crazy’, and the next you were tasting his tongue in your mouth, experiencing the prickle of his canines tugging on your bottom lip like so many times before.

it’s different this time, however. while the kissing might be something you’re used to by now and is nothing short from a whirlwind of transparent need and an almost ferocious exhibition of love, the air in the room sits heavy; it’s laced with unresolved tension that you’re both secretly dreading for having to sort out.

it’s a sensitive matter. words had been said, poison unleashed, and you can’t take any of it back. panting on the couch, you’re both avoidant when it comes to facing the consequences as you try to cool down after the tense, oddly sexually-charged fight you’ve just had.

you suppose it’s safe to say that it’s not going all that well.

the living room has gotten hot, it’s been like this for the last twenty minutes or so. kiba’s body feels like it’s burning, reaching close to a hundred degrees because of how pissed he is at the fact that you keep on refusing to bounce up and down his dick in that slutty way that you know damn well he’s an absolute sucker for.

your body, meanwhile, has practically been set ablaze as an aftermath of the stretch that you willingly choose to endure between your legs. it makes you pulsate with heat right from within; causing you to simmer with annoyance and pleasure at the same time. he’s so snug inside you, fits you so well.

both of you want to move, it’s making you visibly desperate. but you can’t; at least not until one of you admits defeat first.

“apologize.”

“nah.”

a fed up scoff leaves you at his point-blank denial, at how he really makes an effort to say it as nonchalantly as possible. it’s like he doesn’t care, even if you know that he’d die for you at the end of the day. it’s just the kind of man he is.

you stare at one another; gazes filling to the brim with lust, but also getting intense, heated with bitter disapproval that emits from both sides in nearly equal amounts.

pride truly can be a curse. to an outsider, it would look like you’ve come to despise each other from how venomously you’re currently glaring at him and he at you. there are daggers hiding in your respective stares, though all their cuts are superficial. the blades might be honed, but neither of you lets them cut too deep. years of partnership has taught you well.

still, kiba’s anger is intense, so much so that it’s almost palpable in the room you’re in. the irked look that now sits on his face only fuels your own outrage that you feel for him. it’s no wonder that the longer you stare at your persistently obstinate boyfriend, the desire to spit the outright nastiest, most hurtful words that you’d ever be able to come up with on the spot, gets so profound that it nearly starts to swell within your chest.

they’re getting awfully impatient as they sit on the tip of your tongue, the insults. you can feel them pushing against the back of your teeth as they desperately try to break free so that they can relieve some of the frustration that dangerously bubbles inside you, and can thus cause damage you’d both regret later on.

you want to say them so badly, and yet, one look aimed at his dark brown eyes makes you swallow every bad word. makes you shove them down your throat, that feels way too tight because of the knot that’s currently residing in it. makes you keep yourself in-check and forces your mouth to remain shut, because you’re well aware that it’s not worth it, even if there’s red clouding every corner of your vision.

there’s nothing but love underneath the surface.

after all, you surely wouldn’t end up in this sticky situation if there was no heart, yes?

it’s time to try again.

“apologize.”

“no.”

“c’mon,” you huff, blinking away the merest hint of tears from your eyes. “apologize.”

“mm… stop that.”

the way you readjust ever so slightly then, wiggling your hips in the most careful manner, makes him swallow thickly this time, and causes the vein in the side of his neck to bulge against his tan skin.

kiba exhales loudly through his nose at the little movement, repressing the urge to groan in pleasure that it invokes. his lips press into a firm line when he looks up at you from underneath his dark lashes. he doesn’t want you to cry — he loves you, goddammit — but at the same time, he doesn’t want you to win either.

in his unfortunately small, male brain, he feels like you’re the one that’s in the wrong about the entire situation. just like you must surely feel like he is in yours.

but can you blame him for it, really? he simply isn’t capable of understanding the reason as to why you’d ever want to wear a skirt that short anywhere else but in the safe confines of your home, where he’d be the only one able to lay eyes on it and would consequently slide his hands underneath it just as well.

he’s overthinking it. is wondering if you’re doing it because you’re somehow trying to mess with him on purpose. if you are trying to make him jealous by wearing it, which you’ve indeed succeeded in doing already, and if you are trying to provoke him as well. god, what if you’re doing it to catch someone else’s eye? and whose eye exactly, if you are?

to be fair, he’s well aware of your freedom when it comes to picking and choosing your outfits, as well as every other thing, of course, and he normally doesn’t fuss about it at all but rather supports it instead. but come on; even you must admit that you’re acting straight up absurd this time.

aren’t you?!

the wretched thing is so tiny that it makes your entire ass peek out from underneath the hem. and yes, that’s when you’re not bending over at the middle. he’s made sure.

he could see everything as you’d carelessly strolled past him earlier, telling him that you’re ready to go out. could see the smooth back of your thighs, the fat of your ass. hell, he could even see how plump your fucking pussy looked in your cutesy underwear.

the same plump pussy that he’s sank balls deep into, now. the same fat ass that he’s got his hands full with; blunt nails sinking into the plush flesh as he hikes the piece of clothing that is to blame for all of this higher up your waist.

“i said no,” he mutters quietly, his breathing ragged from how overwhelmed and impatient he’s getting. his cock is leaking inside of you. it makes him twitch all over; he can’t stay still.

you make a note of how he doesn’t sound as self-asssured as he did before, even if his gaze remains unmoving from yours. and sure, while he might be stubborn as a bull, you don’t miss the unsure flicker of a muscle in his cheek when you purposefully squeeze around him, though. the way his dick throbs in response, warming your sensitive walls, causes one corner of your lips to kick upward slightly.

he’s giving in.

“c’mon, ki,” you utter sweetly, trying a different approach whilst squeezing him again just for good measure. “just say you’re sorry and we’ll, umm… forget this ever happened. yeah, baby?”

“fuck no,” he replies in a whisper, furrowing his brow at the sudden sugar in your tone. there’s sweat gleaming on it already.

“why not?”

“because.”

“because, why?”

“just ‘cause.”

“okay, but why?”

“‘cause i don’t wanna say it, all right?!” he frowns. “now stop pesterin’ me.”

you’re getting nowhere.

but what he does want from you, though, is for you to just fucking ride him already. this forced stillness, that you’re making him follow through with as punishment for what he’d said about your outfit earlier, is absolute torture. it’s his own personal kind of hell.

and he wants out.

“why don’t you want to say it?” you press on.

“‘cause,” he insists yet again, swallowing the saliva that’s gathered in his mouth for a second time.

silence stretches between you. your warm slick dribbles down to his balls. it makes his heart race.

“fine, whatever. have it your way, i give up,” you say, clearly done with it.

you start to lift your hips but he stops you. makes you stay on top of him with the help of both big hands wrapping around your curves. the callouses that touch your skin make your chest tighten. you’re getting slippery between your legs.

“keep sittin’.” his eyelids are so heavy when he looks at you and sighs in defeat when you push back against his grip, not listening. you feel so good, it makes him physically ache. he can’t have you running off, it’ll ruin him.

“no, i don’t wanna,” you talk back, scrunching the bridge of your nose. you keep pulling away from him now; pushing at his chest and trying to lift yourself off his lap. all this disobedient squirming that you’re doing clearly hits a nerve within him.

“fine, fine, damn! i don’t wanna say i’m sorry ‘cause i hate that slutty lil’ skirt and how fucking short it is, okay?” he obliges at long last, relishing the way you go still. “your entire ass is out when you wear it, for fuck’s sake.”

you quirk a brow, astounded. “so?”

he blinks. “what d’you mean ‘so’?”

“what does it matter if you hate it? that doesn’t give you permission to be mean to me about it!”

“no, i—”

“last time i checked, i can wear whatever i want. so if i want my ass to be out, then it sure as hell will be.”

now he’s the one that’s baffled. “i mean, it’s jus’ my opinion… why should i have to apologize for having an opinion?”

some opinion.

insecurity is more like it.

“whatever… do you really hate it, though? the skirt?” you look down at the place where you connect; at the glistening little spot where your clit is pressing against his dark pubic hair, now that you’ve settled back down.

“y-yeah.” his stomach is clenched tight, the muscle lines there visible from how strained he is and how badly he’s trying to keep himself from fucking right into you. it’s a struggle for you both, the entire cockwarming situation, but it seems like he’s taking it way worse than you.

“aha. sure, buddy.” he doesn’t miss the way your eyebrows shoot up towards your hairline at his unconvincing answer. you’re clearly more interested in his treacherous body language than what he has to say.

“what,” he nearly growls out. he’s getting frustrated, and the fact that you aren’t giving him what he wants, not letting him cum, is definitely not helping either. “what is it?”

“oh, nothing,” you chirp playfully, giggling a little. “nothin’ at all.”

“why are there always gotta be games when i’m with you?” he glares. snaps his jaw into place. “just say what you wanna say, is it really that hard?”

“mm,” you bring a finger up to your lips as you pretend to ponder. and just as he gets hopeful that you’ll speak your mind, just as he’s nearly delirious with want, all he gets as an answer is you leaning in and gently flicking the tip of his nose as you mock the depth of his voice and say, “and what happens if ‘i don’t wanna say it’?”

before he can respond, you grin and continue, “what if all i wanna do is, oh, i dunno… wear my slutty little skirt, as you’ve called it, and prance around in it right in front of everyone…?”

he stares up at you at your taunt. you watch with a twisted sense of victory as his pupils grow large to the size of a cat’s whenever it finds itself in the dark.

heat rises up kiba’s neck; it makes his face turn so red at your provocative remarks that you’re positive it’d be hot all over if you were to touch it. but the blush does not happen because of embarrassment, like you’d initially thought at the start. no, no.

this is pure, jealous fury.

the lewd embrace that your soft cunt continues to provide around his cock tightens to an almost unbearable degree when he grabs you by the hips again all of a sudden, and holds you in a grip that’s so iron-like that it causes his knuckles to flash stark white because of it.

“what’re you, h-hey— n-no, fuck!” your legs squeeze around him as he slams into you with relentless force, then; with no warning whatsoever. it’s an action he’s rarely seen accomplishing without your approval first, but he doesn’t even think about seeking it out in that exact moment.

he doesn’t think you deserve it, really.

at least not when you act like a brat.

“fuck… this. you can wear that shitty skirt for as long as ya want, sweetheart,” he whispers, every breath laboured. “but lemme just make one thing clear; you won’t even be able to walk, much less sit in it after i’m done with that little whorish cunt of yours that you wanna flaunt around so bad.”

“oh, fu-fuck you!” you repeat with a squeal at the sudden intrusion; mouth popping open, eyes squeezing shut. your fingers twitch as you grab fistfuls of his hair and try to make him ease his ruthless pounding a bit.

he smirks. “you’re doin’ it right now.” fucker.

the squelches are so loud. the slapping of skin against skin stings you. the tears that threaten to spill over your waterline are hard to hide, now. it all makes your upper lip quiver.

and yet, it doesn’t sway him into mercy.

kiba doesn’t listen, nor does he care as he puts his hand on the back of your neck, tangles his fingers into your hair and presses you flush against his chest. ever since your panties had come sliding down your legs, currently clinging for dear life around one of your ankles, he’s turned completely brain-dead.

because no matter how many times you mewl and cry out now, all he does is grunt and grumble into the tender spot where your neck meets your shoulder. he simply doesn’t budge. his pounding has even gotten so ruthless that he’s got you gritting your teeth from how close you’re getting to climax and overstimulation.

“you think i’ll just stay completely still like a good boy while there’s a cute lil’ slut sitting on my cock?” his exhales are warm against your skin. arrogance drips off his tone as he kisses your cheek softly, “baby, who do you take me for?”

you’re both sweating like crazy by the time you start to comply and help him by wiggling your hips again. your walls are just so tight, so wet, and your hole keeps fluttering around his cock in a way that makes his eyes want to roll back into his skull. the fact that your tits are out and are being shoved right into his goddamn face as you sit on his lap and keep your arms tightly wrapped around his neck is pure heaven.

he nearly shivers when you drag your nails through his hair and let your knees sink deeper into the cushions of the sofa you’d shoved him onto long moments prior straddling him in pure frustration.

“i’m sorry,” you whimper through tears and quiet sniffles when the first heatwave of your orgasm rushes through you, shaking you to your fucking core. his thrusts have gotten jerky and sloppy, but he doesn’t stop. just keeps on pushing you through your high.

“m’sorry, too, sweetheart,” he heaves, pulling you in for a kiss that’s more spit and clashing of teeth than anything else. his forehead rests against your own and his eyes are soft. “sorry for being so mean and acting like a prick. i’ll make it up to you, promise.”

“i love you.” your eyelids flutter shut at the overwhelming sensation, the bliss, the fullness. “…god.”

“love ya too.” he chuckles. tries to focus on his movements even if the way you clench around him like a vice wipes his mind entirely clean. “and forget about what i said, yeah? who cares what you wear? i can fight if someone tries shit with you… i’ll knock out their fucking teeth if i have to.”

you grin, all dazed and crooked. “really? you’d fight for me?”

“mhmm,” he hums lazily, hiking your skirt up again as if he wants to prove a point. his gaze fixates on it as he watches how his cock pushes in and out of your drenched cunt, the ring of milky arousal gathering at the hilt of him. “you know, it kind of fits you well… a slutty lil’ skirt for a slutty lil’ pussy.”

all is forgiven with the quiet laugh you share then.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Lmao hi i saw you wanted hsr requests-

(man, its so weird to request off anon im sorry 💀)

I still dunno which characters to choose so its up to you but how about yandere character and an Aeon of Love whos quick to fall in love and adore, but just as quick to throw away things that no longer interest them?

YOU CARVED OPEN MY HEART, CAN’T JUST LEAVE ME TO BLEED !

YANDERE AEONS / VARIOUS! HSR x READER

note: this fic is more of proof of concept rather than an actual fic, if you want a more specific scenario feel free to request one through my asks!

warnings: yandere themes, canon divergence.

status: unedited

“

I met with the Snowbird once.

That was all it took for me to be captured within their spell.

To wish for the ability to fly with their holy being once spring came.

An impossible dream that was.

Yet still its honeyed promises of seeing the snowbird once again lured me into this path.

This path of love and despair.

“

— Pope of the Philian Church.

DATA BANK

DATA LOG 01 - I

[Y/N]. The God of Philandering. Snowbird. The Great Majesty of Romance. Their Wintry Excellency. Avem In Perpetua Fuga.

Aeon of Philia.

Some might call them the Aeon of Love but does love really come with a massive fear of commitment and the ease of which they left their significant others? Many scholars that studied the Aeon think not.

Their fickle, almost apathetic nature however did little to dissuade people and other gods alike from falling in love.

You see, [Y/N] was an expert, quite literally the best, when it comes to persuasion and seduction. In contrast to IX whose presence creates madness, theirs made the normal human being almost fall to their knees in religious fervor. Only those blessed by other Aeons could ever hope to escape or endure such an overwhelming aura.

The other gods themselves weren’t completely immune to their charms. One cannot help but be curious as to how a singular being was able to attain the infatuation of such powerful existences . . .

. . . and who exactly that singular being is.

In any case, as one would expect from an Aeon of Romance, the [Y/N] faith is never short of passionate poetry.

Here’s one I found in the General of Xianzhou’s office of all places. Perhaps he might be a follower of theirs? It is quite laughable to think of the great Jing Yuan dabbling in literature when avoiding duties.

“Your love scorched my mind.

Tortured my soul.

Hollowed my body.

But in this pain,

Thoughts of your presence and light,

Dull the blade you sheathed within me.

I await your return,

and your claim over the heart you’ve carved out of me.”

DATA LOG 2 - ADORETH

Perhaps those scholars were being a bit too harsh. A god of love must have extremely high standards for their partner. Perhaps those partners were simply foolish, delusional to believe they’d be enough for them.

It is a popular theory that all Aeons used to live peacefully amongst one another until the Great Majesty of Romance threw the world into chaos. The youth nowadays have written several essays alluding to their idea that it was what jumpstarted paths such as the Destruction and Elation. No evidence of such happenings have come out so far.

In my opinion? If anything the Aeon of Elation, Aha would be the bringer of chaos not the other way around. I suspect that the bias and warnings taught to the masses against worshipping or even studying [Y/N], has led to this kind of popular belief.

DATA LOG ? ¿ ? - THEE

Why ?

Why is it that they won’t come back ?

I have devoted my entire life to clearing their name. I have spent countless nights agonising on the proper words to use when describing their Wintry Excellency.

Why then would they not praise me ? Why then would they not grace me with their presence once more ? Was it all a mirage ? A tantalising dream made to inflict pain on my soul?

. . . Perhaps it is because I have chosen the wrong path.

. . .

Yes.

Yes it’s all my fault.

I should have devoted my entire life to worship not just studies.

How moronic of me !

A god of love would never be so cruel. No.

They are simply waiting. Waiting for the day, I come to them.

That was where everyone else was wrong. And I . . . will be right.

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[matchabelly]

So I literally just returned to this site last week to follow a person who shall not be named for GO3 updates (worst timing ever ik) and maybe what I'm about to say is a hot take and super long-winded but I need to get it off my chest here since no one in my personal life is as emotionally invested in this as I am. I have been an obsessed fan for almost two decades, but one thing I will not be doing is defending a powerful individual who by their own admission abused said power and is now trying to gaslight the victims. From what I've read these past few days, it seems their inappropriate behavior has been an open secret for some time now. I will no longer support their work. I am thoroughly disgusted and these allegations paint this person's every past word/action in a new, manipulative, and disturbing light for me. That being said, while I will actively be both avoiding any new content from this individual and trying to find ways to "read another book," I cannot overstate the profound effect their work has had on my life and identity. Humans are fallible and complicated. Art is transcendent. Once it is given to the universe it changes into something that is special and unique only to the beholder. It is OKAY to continue enjoying and identifying with art made by a problematic creator, as long as you are able to enjoy it with a critical eye and do not in any way support or promote the individual responsible. And for the love of Someone, do not blame the victims. Here is where things might get spicy but I'm gonna say it anyways. I hope Good Omens 3, The Sandman, and all this individual's other projects get cancelled. Or, at least the person in question is removed from them altogether, since the other artists who have worked tirelessly to bring these works to life should not have to be punished unless they were in some way culpable or privy to these incidents before the news broke. Victims getting justice and a sex offender facing the consequences of their actions is more important to me than getting another season of a TV show, even if it's one I'm obsessed with and adore. Sadly, I don't think the person who did this will be facing justice at all. They are financially and socially powerful enough for this to get swept under the rug. If the mixed responses I have seen across various platforms is anything to go by, their legions of impressionable fans are already prepared to defend them to the death. Wrong hill to die on, folks. All I can hope is that everyone does not let themselves be manipulated by this grown adult who made the wrong choice to violate consent when they clearly know better. Just remember that even though the news didn't come out until this week, this individual didn't try playing the neurodivergence card until after the most recently reported incident occurred. Whatever they are, it does not excuse them of responsibility for what they've done. They are a dangerous, narcissistic, manipulative person and that is their own fault. They do not need you to defend them, they need to recognize they are the problem, face justice, and get help, hopefully while fading into obscurity for the rest of time. I hope that all the hurting people in the fandom out there can find solace in whatever way they see fit, and if that includes continuing to enjoy the art (seriously, though, pirate it instead) that is okay. We are all deeply affected by these events and how you cope is up to you. But lastly, and most importantly, I hope the victims of these awful crimes can move forward from the trauma this has undoubtedly caused, and that the cruel, misogynistic hand of the internet can leave them alone so they can heal. Can't believe I have to say this in 2024, but blaming the victim is NEVER OKAY even if the perpetrator is someone you like.

[birdmitosis]

💔 for the chapter 3 princesses?

💔 An angsty headcanon

Like Tower before Her, Apotheosis cannot really emotionally connect to individual people, but while Tower would be unhappy and lonely if She never had people around Her at all, Apotheosis has trouble with that. Individuals are just so small, even if they wanted to get near Her. The Protagonist would be the only one who could ease that for Her; without him, Apotheosis really is a supremely lonely god.

Den can still hear the cabin and the basement -- Her cage, Her pit -- talks to Her. It's why She's starving, malnourished. It tells Her that She deserves it after what She did.

Eye of the Needle, if Adversary progresses to that point, is far less capable of being able to readjust to a more normal life. She has gotten to a point where She constantly feels unsatisfied by never having the fight She was denied. She might not be forever doomed to that, but She may fall into the trap of eternally searching for it.

Fury's rage is stoked by a severe self-loathing. She hates what She has become and hates the Protagonist for turning Her into it. Without the Protagonist around, that rage is still there, but Her self-loathing eats at Her more. She is less than what She was, She thinks, and She can never get it back. She was denied that. She takes this to mean She can never be better, so She embraces being worse even though She doesn't want to. (As a less angsty headcanon, this makes me think She might get along with Witch/Thorn/that version of Wild.)

Burned Grey remembers trying so hard to accept the Protagonist destroying what few small desires She had: to leave the cabin with him, and to not die. She tried to accept his decision, even with tears in Her eyes, but now She accepts Her desires fully even if they hurt both Her and him. She would, I think, be the vessel most upset about never being allowed Her wish in the end if not for the full understanding that seems to come with reuniting with the Shifting Mound.

Drowned Grey cannot emote and cannot quite access Her own emotions in Her death. Unlike the Burned Grey, where the dry heat that consumes the entire Construct is an expression of Her desire to burn it all down and destroy it all -- which She fully feels and is aware of -- the constant rain in the Drowned Grey's route is Her sorrow fully externalized. She can't cry and She can't even quite feel like She wants to cry anymore, but the Construct itself weeps. She thinks that drowning the Protagonist is making him feel how She choked on Her own blood... It isn't, but She does want him to feel and understand Her: the emotions She can no longer access, She needs him to be fully faced with Her sorrow at being betrayed, at not being trusted, at not being understood.

Moment of Clarity is as broken down as the Protagonist and any of his voices. They are not the only ones who have done all of this over and over and over and over and over again, after all. And they have all exhausted every other option before finally freeing Her solely because they can no longer avoid it. They can no longer do anything else. The tender moment She shares with the Protagonist is almost despite Herself... He is finally, finally letting Her out and it almost looks like he made the choice to do so. She can almost pretend he made the choice to do so. But he tried so hard to put it off until choices just didn't exist for either of them anymore, didn't he?

Thorn still has so much Witch in Her. This isn't the headcanon; it's obvious if you choose literally any of the options other than finally freeing Her. My headcanon is that if She would, of course, sometimes continue to backslide into being more like Witch in negative situations. And She would hate it. There'd be a lot of uncertainty in Her still if She could actually be better, if She wasn't still the worst.

Networked Wild, if She could actually escape like that -- even with the Protagonist and the voices -- would still always feel incomplete and too afraid to ever risk looking at and facing what She'd done, what they had done, and what it might mean for all of them. They would probably always be doomed to fall apart at some point.

Wounded Wild feels incomplete, even if She will always feel grateful for the kindness, empathy, and companionship She receives "despite" being incomplete. Maybe She can work past that eventually, but it will take her a long time, and also a long time to really feel okay facing who and what She had been and done. (Again, a slightly less angsty headcanon, but I think this means Wounded Wild-from-Beast would get along well with Thorn.)

Wraith wants so, so badly to be able to heal Her relationship with the Protagonist and to forgive him and the voices. She wants it so badly She can't let herself realize it. The one moment She allows herself to is when, if they toss themselves and Her into the abyss, She asks "WHY DO YOU HATE ME?" Her laughter that follows is at Herself for Her folly.

SPECIAL CASES:

Arms Race/No Way Out doesn't know how to be anything other than a weapon, doesn't know how to do anything other than hurt the Protagonist. Doesn't know how to want anything else. She is joy in Her purpose, but She is nothing outside of it. She likes him, yes, but She doesn't know what to do with it. She is -- ironically, given the name of the alternate Chapter IV -- empty, maybe even more so than the Deconstructed Damsel.

Mutually Assured Destruction/Empty Cup panics because She does not know how to be anything other than what She is. If She steps out into the unknown -- if She changes -- what is She? Is She nothing if She is not the one who hurts the Protagonist? All She can do when Her armor and sharp edges crumple and strip away is to put Her heart in his hand and trust that he will be able to lead Her to what comes next.

Stranger doesn't have a Chapter III at all, but so They aren't left out entirely: what happened shook Them all up really badly at first. It wasn't just Harsh, Neutral, and Soft all pleading with the Protagonist at the end of their chapter, but Emo and even Monster as well.

[lavenderfluorite14]

A Taste of Plums | Astarion x Female!Tav

Chapter 8: Fight

Summary: Secrets are revealed. Not everyone is pleased.

Rating: PG; Warnings: None

Read on AO3. Chapter 7 ❤️‍🔥. Read from the beginning.

At first light, Lae’Zel scouts smoke off to the west. Judging by the plumes there must be a big encampment close by, perhaps just beyond the ridge. Goblins. The Druid, and hopefully the answers they seek, are within reach.

Gale ladles scoops of a hodge-podge breakfast scramble onto the chipped plates they’ve scavenged. It looks appetizing enough, so Astarion impulsively grabs a plate. He no longer needs to eat but sometimes he tries. It always tastes like ash. The only thing that tastes good to him now is rich, fresh blood. Everyone eats in uneasy silence while Tav finishes dressing in her tent.

“So, Gale,” Karlach begins. “When were you going to tell us that you need magical items as part of a well-balanced diet?”

Gale visibly balks. “That’s none of your business!” He splutters. “Were you spying on me?” Gale demands, leveling an accusatory glare at the group.

“Your tent lit up like a purple beacon. It was less spying and more observing,” Shadowheart lies.

“That’s still no excuse to invade my privacy!” Gale reiterates.

“So you’re not even going to try to deny your insatiable lust for magical trinkets?” Astarion teases.

“I wouldn’t call it an ‘insatiable lust,’ per se,” Gale counters, ever the pedant. “It’s more like a….king, paying tribute to avoid invasion by a powerful neighbor,” he explains.

“What does that even mean?” Karlach asks.

“It means that my condition is serious and should be given proper care and respect,” Gale says loftily.

“You can’t make analogies like that and then expect us to not have questions,” Shadowheart presses.

“It’s a rather personal matter that I would have preferred be kept quiet, but it seems the proverbial tressym is out of the bag,” Gale concedes, deflating a little.

“So how does a wizard become literally addicted to magic?” Wyll asks.

“That is a tale for another time,” Gale answers evasively. “But until then, I just ask that you keep an eye out for any magical equipment that you might discover in our travels. And if there is anything that you can share, I would deeply appreciate it. My condition is not to be-“

“We’ll part with what we can spare. But we are keeping the valuable spoils,” Lae’Zel announces on everyone’s behalf.

“You may want to reconsider that. As I was saying, my condition is volatile at best. I fear that if I do not absorb another item soon, then something bad may happen.”

“Is that a threat?” Astarion starts.

“It’s not a threat. It is unfortunately a consequence,” Gale answers ominously.

“No one is being threatened,” Tav interjects quickly, stumbling over to their huddle. Her hair is still mussed from sleep, her leathers still unbuckled. She looks like she dressed in a hurry. “And no one is going hungry. We still have time to get another item. And now that we all know about Gale’s condition, we can all keep an eye out for one.” She scans the group for any dissent. Astarion openly scowls but does not voice any complaints.

“But he can’t keep giving us sinister explanations and expect us to drop the matter!” Shadowheart complains.

“I thought you of all people, Shadowheart, would have understood the need for privacy and discretion,” Gale says coldly.

“My secrets are my own. They concern me and my life, they don’t threaten anyone else, unlike what you have implied!” Shadowheart accuses.

“So you assume. You can’t remember what they are, can you?” Gale shoots back.

“My memories are-"

“We all have some secrets and that’s ok,” Tav interrupts forcefully. “We can tell each other when the time is right. But until then, we need to respect-"

“Only cowards cannot admit to their deeds,” Lae’Zel cuts in. Shadowheart’s frown deepens and Gale crosses his arms, obviously hurt. Even Wyll shifts uncomfortably.

“Lae’Zel, that is not a fair thing to say,” Tav says.

“But it is the truth,” Lae’Zel counters. “And it’s time you admitted your own secrets.”

“What are you talking about?” Tav demands, her irritation finally showing.

“Kaincha! You used the illithid connection!” Lae’Zel accuses. “We all felt it. You used it to commune with Astarion!”

Astarion freezes. “And what exactly did you feel?” He asks. It’s bad enough that Tav felt how weak and vulnerable he was. He would be mortified if the rest of the group felt it too.

“Not a lot, honestly,” Shadowheart says. “We felt a disturbance, but it was hard to determine what it was.”

“Given our circumstances, there was only one thing it could be,” Gale says derisively.

“You all felt that?” Tav presses. She gestures to Wyll, Karlach, and Lae’Zel.

“Just a little touch. Enough to feel that you were using the tadpole, but not enough to feel what you were doing with it,” Wyll confirms. Karlach looks between them pointedly.

“So. What were you doing with it?” She asks.

“It doesn’t matter!” Lae’Zell exclaims. “These parasites are not to be indulged! The more you use them, the more susceptible you become to their influence. They are to be resisted at all costs, lest you become ghaik!” She narrows her eyes, looking between Tav and Astarion. “There’s nothing that could be so important that it warrants using these abominations.”

“Not even winning in battle?” Tav remarks.

“Especially winning in battle,” Lae’Zel returns haughtily. “If you could not have won on your own, then you should have fallen.”

Tav scoffs loudly, rolling her eyes. Astarion laughs contemptuously.

“What care I for honor,“ Astarion jeers. “If this tadpole gives us an edge, then-“

“It is an edge that you will cut yourself on!” Lae’Zel vehemently asserts. “Your recklessness puts us all in danger. If you give in to the tadpole, you will become ghaik.” She rests her hands upon the hilt of her sword, already strapped to her side. “And if you become ghaik, I will not hesitate to end you.”

“No one is ending anyone,” Tav authoritatively commands. Her words are firm, but Astarion notices that she is making a placating gesture with her hands.

“That remains to be seen,” Lae’Zel threatens.

“Well, then it’s lucky we do not intend to transform,” Astarion parries.

“K'chakhi,” Lae’Zel spits. “These parasites do not care what you intend. They will take until you are no more than a mindless thrall.” Astarion’s lip curls. What does Lae’Zel know of being a thrall.

“She’s right, you two,” Wyll seconds. “These things in our heads are not to be trusted, as tempting as they may be. We don’t need to use these disgusting worms. We already have quite the talented team already.” Wyll shoots them all a valiant, conciliatory smile, but it is met with angry glares.

“Besides, you didn’t exactly use them in battle,” Shadowheart reveals.

“No you did not,” Gale agrees. “You used them to have a private conversation of some kind.”

“It was a necessary private conversation,” Tav insists.

“And frankly it was none of your business anyway,” Astarion sniffs.

“It becomes my business when your secret drags us all into battle,” Gale counters.

“And I shared my secret once the situation had been dealt with,” Astarion smiles thinly. “Such a change from yesterday. I thought we were a team, Gale. So much for supportive friends.”

“I do support you, Astarion, and I’d stand beside you again. But that doesn’t mean that I will tolerate anymore secrets.”

“How about this,” Astarion considers. “I’ll tell you all my sordid little secrets, when you do the bloody same!”

“Alright everyone, let’s take a break,” Tav slowly steps between them. “No one is entitled to anything. We share things when we’re ready and when we feel comfor-“

“Oh, because I was so comfortable yesterday?” Astarion yells. Tav closes her mouth. “I confess to you all that I was a slave to a sadistic vampire lord for two hundred years, and no one else can spare me the same godsdamn honesty?” He glares at Gale and Shadowheart in particular, but is quick to round on the rest too. “And don’t you three play dumb. You weren’t there, but I’m sure you heard all about it.” No one contradicts his suspicion that the camp had been gossiping about him.

“I’m sorry that it happened like that,” Tav says. “You should have had a choice. You should have been able to tell us when you were ready.”

A bolt of rage rips through him, loosening his tongue.

“I’m using the tadpoles,” he declares. “And I don’t care what any of you say. A power freely given is a power freely gained.”

“It’s not freely given. These awful things come with a steep cost,” Shadowheart insists firmly.

“I agree. I do not fancy becoming a Mindflayer, nor do I want to see anyone else become one either,” Karlach adds. She looks Astarion in the eye and he feels a flash of guilt, which he instinctively wrestles down.

“We should at least wait until we know more about them,” Gale offers. “I’m all for a little experimentation, but we need to find out more before we accidentally hurt ourselves irreparably.”

“What you propose is lunacy!” Lae’Zel exclaims. “There is no experimentation. There is no way forward that does not end in your deaths! The only way forward is purification, which can only be achieved at a Githyanki crèche!” Lae’Zel is positively fuming now. “How many times must I repeat myself. And how many more times must I be ignored!”

“And how do we know that we won’t be slaughtered the moment we arrive at your crèche?” Shadowheart asks nastily.

“I have already told you that I will vouch for you as my servants,” Lae’Zel answers shortly.

“How kind of you,” Shadowheart shoots back.

“It is. You would do well to appreciate it.”

“You don’t use our names. You don't even like us! How can we trust you to do what you say?”

“I offer you a cure but you are upset that I refer to you as istik?” Lae’Zel mocks. “You think like an istik. You act like an istik. You are an istik.”

“Ok, we don’t have to all agree, but we do have to be polite to each other,” Tav interrupts. “I won’t tell you what to do with your own bodies. If you don’t want to use the tadpoles then that is fine. If you do want to use the tadpoles then that is fine by me too. Astarion and I want to use them, so that’s what’s happening.”

“After all my warnings. You would still listen to the words of your lover over words of reason.” Lae’Zel says disbelievingly. She regards them both with a deep disdain, pointing to Astarion. “That one will lead you down the road to ruin. And you will follow like a lovesick fool.”

“Aren’t you green with envy,” Astarion says snidely.

Lae’Zel swears in Githyanki and draws her sword with a slick scream of metal. Everyone else immediately follows suit. The campsite hums with magic, the air glints with blades. All of them had come to breakfast armed to the teeth.

“If you turn on one of us, you turn on all of us,” Tav warns, magic crackling at her fingertips. Lae’Zel is formidable, but she’s outnumbered. She sheathes her sword with another swear. Everyone else slowly lowers their weapons.

“This leniency is madness. You are all fools for tolerating this,” she speaks directly to Wyll, Karlach, Gale, and even Shadowheart. She turns to Tav. “And I will not stand aside as your foolishness puts us all in danger. I will not watch as you succumb to the parasite. I am leaving, as I should have done a week ago.” Lae’Zel storms towards her tent, leaving her unfinished breakfast to cool where she left it.

“I won’t stop you, but I wish you’d stay,” Tav calls after her.

“As if you could stop me,” Lae’Zel spits. She doesn’t turn around.

“Then safe travels, Lae’Zel. I hope you find your crèche,” Tav says. Lae’Zel chks and begins packing up her things.

“I told you she would abandon us,” Shadowheart says loudly to Tav. “You were wrong to trust a Githyanki. I’m just glad we all still have our heads.”

“Finish getting ready, everyone,” Tav orders, ignoring Shadowheart. “Today we infiltrate the goblin camp and we’ll need all our wits about us.” Tav quickly retreats, returning to her interrupted morning ablutions. Astarion feels a tug at his mind.

Are these things really worth it? Tav sends to him. He can feel her doubt, embarrassment, anger, betrayal. All the emotions she is trying not to show right now.

Absolutely, my sweet, Astarion sends back. They have to be.

He wonders if she can feel anything from him.

I’m sorry she said that to you. A warmth creeps into the connection. He touches it for a moment, just out of curiosity. Is she trying to comfort him? He recoils quickly in shame.

I’m fine, darling. Lae’Zel’s bark is nothing compared to her bite.

He is used to others looking down upon him, he is used to others disparaging his thoughts and ideas. Of course it stings. But he’s alive and that’s what really matters.

A dark flower unfurls itself inside of him as he realizes that Tav had powerfully advocated for his interests, exactly like he had wanted. It begins to wither when he realizes that it came at the cost of Lae’Zel, who had made it very clear that she doesn’t think he is good enough for Tav.

He can’t say he completely disagrees with her. But this is what he has to do. Tav is a free woman. She made her choice. No one here is innocent.

He plans to thoroughly reward Tav tonight.

With the terrifying efficiency of a career soldier, Lae’Zel is soon gone. Wyll sighs as he watches her disappear over the ridge. “I can’t say I blame her, given her people’s history with Mindflayers,” he says. “But I don’t want our group to keep dwindling. Let’s all promise to do a better job of taking care of each other in the future.”

Astarion shoves another ashen forkful of egg into his mouth.

~

Notes:

Kaincha: An expression of dismay or regret

K'chakhi: Idiot

~

Chapter 9: Derailed

[regular-human-being]

"You've got guts to spill (but no one trustworthy)" notes masterpost

Fic linked here!!!

Here are some notes from "You've got gut to spill (but no one trustworthy)" aka My ctntduo/sbi vampire au, because there are a few things that I didn't include and I wish I had

Note: I'll be updating this as the fic goes along, so there will be new stuff added weekly :D

Vampire logic

General facts

• They have enhanced sight, small, and hearing, which makes it easier to hunt their prey. Despite the fact they can see at night, it isn't perfect (their eyes reflect light much like a dog or cat)

• Vampires have to been invited into places deemed as "homes". It doesn't matter if that person is in the room/building, they still have to be invited in (imagine is one person deems a public library "home" (not literally), unless the vampire is invited in they cannot enter).

This applies to windows/skylights too, as they are another point of entry they have to be invited in either way. Once invited inside, they can entre through any entrance.

• Crucifies affect all vampires differently, based upon: their age, strength, and current energy.

• Older vampires will be less affected than fledglings, due to a tolerance build up. But a cross will still cause them to experience some pain. If a vampire is tired/low on blood, they will be more heavily effected.

• Holding a cross in front of a vampire will cause them to experience paint, and may also start smoking.

• Placing a crucifix (whether silver or wooden) above a door, will not completely stop a vampire from entering an establishment (especially if they have previously been invited in). However, for them it will be like having to wade through an invisible, painful force field.

• Their reflection will show up in mirrors that don't contain any sort of silver. They also show up in videos and photos.

• If their skin is cut, they will bleed if they have recently fed/have a lot of blood in their system. However, the wound will also heal faster, if they have more blood in their system.

But if their skin is cut with something made of silver, the wound will take a human amount of time to heal.

They will also heal fast, unless they are injured by: another vampire, silver, or burnt by the sun.

• Human blood is preferred, but harder to get a hold of, so they can also survive off animal blood. They are also more stable off human blood, and don't have to feed as often as it satiates their hunger for longer.

• Vampires can still eat and drink "human foods". However, their body does not process it the same way, and that food/drink will remain in their stomach until there is too much and they throw it all back up. For this reason, vampires tend to avoid eating "human foods".

However, foods with a higher concentration of blood is more likely to be digested fully.

Alcohol will also not have an strong effect on them, unless is is drank in a high quantity. The quickest/easier way to get a vampire drunk is for them to drink blood containing alcohol.

• They will physically remain the same age that they were turned out, as well as keeping some of the mentality from that age too.

_____

• Vampires will form bonds between them and other close members of their coven. Through this, they can communicate through feelings/emotions.

Coven bonds work like a phone line, you can get a signal from more than one person at the same time, but some are stronger than others; depending on who you're closest to.

The connection may become weaker/unresponsive, if the other person is far away or not paying attention.

_____

• Once turned, the vampire will take on animistic features from one animal. The type and severity is different for each individual, but all have the ability to hide said features for a short period of time.

• They cannot float/fly unless their animal has the ability to do so (giving them wings) (birds, bugs/insects).

_____

• The older the vampire is, the stronger they often are, and the more respected they are.

• Elder vampires will often sire others, or take in loose vampires, creating covens for said fledglings.

• Fledgling transformation (if done correctly) will last around a week to two, for the full transformation. But the vampire will remain in the nest/not go outside of the main coven building, for a few months whilst they adapt.

_____

The Sun

• Going outside during sunlight hours will make any vampire weaker than their full, nighttime potential./

• Cannot go out into direct sunlight (especially in summer) without burning almost instantaneously. Umbrellas/parasols, hats, and sun cream can be used to delay they burns, but with sun cream it will only stave it off for a few minutes at most.

• They can go out in overcast/cloudy/rainy weather, with less repercussions. But will still experience burns (especially in the former two) if out for extended periods of time.

• Reflecting direct sunlight onto a vampire will burn them the same (if not worse) than if they were to stand directly in the rays.

_____

Weaknesses

• Direct sunlight will result in burns and possible burns.

• Cannot enter buildings/rooms deemed as "home" without being invited in.

• Allergic to garlic, and will experience and similar anaphylactic reaction if exposed to it or ingest it.

• Crucifixes will cause a stinging/burning sensation. If exposed for to long, they will start smouldering.

• Cannot walk on holy land.

• A stake through the heart will kill a vampire then and there.

• Silver.

• Ripping out their heart or cutting off their head will kill them.

[gerogerigaogaigar]

I remember seeing someone wonder why no one does literary analysis of popular music. I don't have very many mutuals, but if it was one of y'all then this post is for you.

Title And Registration by Death Cab For Cutie communicates the mental and emotional state of its narrator with such efficiency and precision that I cannot let it go unnoticed any longer. The song, read literally, is about a person being stopped by the police and looking for their title and registration papers in the glove compartment and finding a picture of their ex.

The song is absolutely brilliant for communicating structurally how much the narrator doesn't want to think about their ex. The song starts with an entire verse that is the narrator mentally avoiding the topic. They talk about how you never find gloves in the glove compartment and that it should be called something else. The sentiment is corny and cliched and delivered here with the utmost sincerity. The way that the narrator is avoiding his feelings is shown by the song avoiding the point for the entire first verse. After this verse the narrator admits that he found "souvenirs of better times". The song goes on to get more explicit with each verse until the narrator admits that they stay awake all night thinking about this relationship.

Death Cab are pretty good at starting songs small and building them up into subtle narratives, but this is probably my favorite example. Every line down to the title itself adds to the narrative. Title And Registration gives more context as to why he's looking for a legal document in the rain. After all the song never outright says he's been pulled over but it's heavily implied. In the end the song manages to paint a picture of a person breaking down in the rain in front of a cop because he accidentally saw a picture of his ex. It's such a potent picture that is only gleaned by coming at the song sideways. And yet the song leads you sideways into this interpretation as if it were obvious.

[daphnedauphinoise]

how to stop being addicted to self help contents ?

This is a very valid question and something I struggled with until a while ago. The bottom line is you need to just go out and live life. If you are out living life, you are not mindlessly consuming self-help content. A lot of self-help content is bullshit. It really is just a way to be insecure about things that dont require any of that. I have found that you can't wean yourself off self-help, the promise of a better life is so sweet. Not as nearly as sweet as living a better life so in my opinion, it has to be a cold clean cut away from self-help. At some point you actually have do the routines you have made, check the check lists you have made and all those vision boards.

Why are you consuming self help? Usually it is one of these things:

Your life is shit and you have no clue on how to fix it

You are avoiding fixing your life because lets be honest, work is hard so you rather just keep searching for your magic fix

You are deeply afraid of moving past your shitty current situation because now you have gotten used to it and you do not think yourself as deserving of the life you want. You are scared of the brigh future you can have.

Believe it or not but all of these things are fixable. Those of you who are afraid of the good things in life need to do some soul searching and weed out the root of your misfortunes. If you are avoiding the hard work, then you are doomed. If you are group number one, I will come back to you.

One of my friends has a habit of telling us that anxiety is the stupidest man made concept and I used to look at her weirdly until I finally understood what she meant. She wasn't targeting those with diagnosed anxiety, our friend group knows first hand how delibatating anixety can be. What she means is a lot of our concepts we have about self, we come up with ourselves and those concepts are our downfall. I used to have this horrible notion that I was incapable and i was worth much, guess where my life was? Once I started respecting myself more and flipped that narrative my life has changed so much. Until a couple of months ago I used to go around saying ' i have such bad anxiety', it was an excuse as much as it was a justification. As soon as uni started again and I have been forced to interact, guess whose life has been better? I am not saying my social anxiety has gone but my mental health has improved dramatically. I no longer say I have that anxiety anymore eventhough I do, I dont let that hold me back. Just because I have it, I dont let myself become a victim to it. The things I thought I couldn't do, I do now; all it took was a new outlook and a new mindset. Things do get exponentially better when you actually leave your front door and tackle your problems head on. From my own experience, the more I have labeled myself as an 'anxious' person, the worse my anxiety has gotten. I did a chart and everything and I saw that there was a direct correlation to what I was perpetuating and then how I was feeling and then consequently acting.

Here is how self-help went wrong: people see self-help as the end goal. Making the visualisation board is not the end goal. Making a visualisation board is the start of your journey. I have a board right infront of me now and everyday I wakeup and I look at it and promise myself that I will do something today that will bring me one step closer to one of those pictures. A lot of people who are into manifesting hate actually doing the work but I need you remember Law of Action is literally a universal law. You cannot manifest a schoalarship, if you never apply. You won't meet your billionaire boo if you are at home day in day out. The time to start your journey to your dream life is actually right now! Literally RIGHT NOW. Stop giving yourself excuses and do that 10 minutes of whatever you need to do today. You need to be confrontational with yourself and you need to have self-discipline.

All the girls I know who have had shitty upbringings and me personally, are where we are because we dream hard and work hard. I have seen people leave the wildest pasts behind and move onto the bigger and better. From being abdandoned by her parents to golfing every week and currently she is planning her skiing getaway. I have seen people using their losing deck and win at life. They all work hard. Their work ethic and their dedication to their purpose is a commonality they all share.

daphne xox

[jaesqueso]

member: mark

▶︎ “Currents” by Tame Impala

genre: best friends au

3.5k follower celebration ❤︎

word count: 846

warnings: a little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst, mentions of kissing, parties and alcohol

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

People say a boy and a girl cannot be just friends. Well, you and Mark lived proving all those people wrong. Inseparable since kindergarten, you always went to the same schools, were practically neighbours and ended up on the same group of friends.

Everybody agrees high school sucks, but it’s not as bad if you have someone like Mark Lee by your side to get through it. You talk about anything and everything, family problems, school problems, even girl/boy problems. Not that you any of you actually had a relationship with anyone during that time but you’d talk and give advice about your crushes and hook ups. You could tell him things you couldn’t tell anyone else, and same for him.

On hot summer nights you’d lay down under the stars on one of your backyards and talk about the future. Sometimes he was an ice cream man and you a lifeguard, other times he was an author and you a barista, or he was a music teacher and you were an actress. No matter the scenario you made up, there was always one constant, you and him. Best friends for eternity.

You two even managed to go to college in the same city, not the same one but you still got to hung out. Everything seemed perfect but then things took a turn.

They say people never change but that’s bullshit, they do. He had new friends, you had new friends, so you started to hang out less and less. You used to text all day, now messages would be left unread. It was getting harder to meet up and the times you managed to do you’d either sit in silence or start arguing about some random thing.

After a week of literally no contact you ran into Mark at a frat party. Leaning against a wall, there he was, giggling way to close to some random girl. You don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t look at that so you went upstairs to find a bathroom with no line and take a calm yourself down. Could this be jealousy?

Staring straight into the mirror you told yourself it didn’t bother you but it hit you like an arrow. No, you couldn’t be jealous, you don’t like him. You’re just friends, you’ve always been. But is thare something more than that?

Taking a deep breath, you decide it’s better for you to just go home and think about this another time. But as you exit the bathroom you hear a familiar voice calling your name.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Mark approaches slowly.

“Well it’s not like we’ve been keeping up to each other much.” You don’t know why you’re suddenly so bitter.

“I know.” He sighs. “And I miss it. I miss you. I miss us.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe is was the fact that you haven’t seen him in a while, or maybe your story is not so different from the rest, but when your lips suddenly crashed you didn’t pull apart until you were both naked in someone’s bed.

As hard as it was, that made things worst than before. After that party you actively avoided each other and it seemed like a good solution. You though you could just ignore and fate would decide what happened next but that’s not how things work. All the running around, you couldn’t fight it any longer. You two needed to talk.

It wasn’t ugly, it was just heartbreaking. Two people with so much history deciding to go their separate ways. In the end, your friendship is gone and there’s nothing left to do. You know this is for the best before you hurt each other, but you’re still not sure how you feel about it.

At the end of the semester he decide to transfer to another college supposedly to ‘pursue new opportunities’. Sometimes you wish you could turn him back into a stranger, cause if you were never in his life he wouldn’t have to change it.

The following years you focused on working on yourself and moving on. Eventually you met a nice guy and got to experience what it’s like to fall in love. Well, the conventional way. You also got a nice job and some co-workers that turned into close friends. One day you’re having lunch with one of them when you notice a familiar figure walk into the restaurant.

Mark noticed you right away and wasn’t shy to approach you with a big smile. You were quick to notice the ring on his hand and it made you happy to know he too moved on. Unfortunately, he was actually in a hurry so he didn’t have much time to talk, but he gave you his new number and a promise to catch up.

“Who was that hottie?” Your friend wiggled her eyebrows. “Friend or ex?”

“Well,” you watch him leave and look back at his number with a small smile, “something between a lover and a friend, it was different back then.”

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

taglist: @yokshi-unbeliebubble @nc-teen  @yutahoes @dimplehyunn @iknowyuno @bebskyy @ne0cultur3technology @nurenciye @luvjeongjaehyun @chenleyang @booyouwhore17 @jenoxygen @star1117-archives @neodreamzenie​

unable to tag: @doahflix @criminalmindsz @jaehyunsprincess

[piranhasbreath]

Ahri - About

True Name: Unknown

Nicknames: Ahri, Little Fox, Monster, Man Eater, Last Vesani

Age: Unknown, around 2000 years old

Species: Younger than a Vastayashai'rei yet older than a regular vastaya, being in the middle generation, where she still has some contact with the spirit realm but not as much as the original ones and is more powerful than your regular vastaya.

Abilities:

Shape shifting- Ahri, while not able to stay like that for much longer due to the excess of human memories within her, can make herself look more ' furry', resembling a snow fox like the ones she was raised by.

Life Essense Manipulation - Ahri is able to manipulate and consume the life essense of living beings, absorbing their memories and experiences. She has aquired a particular laste for humans since it does give her a rush of memories and emotions that normal animals cannot provide. If she goes too longwithout feeding off that, her appearence becomes ´dirty´(hair and furr looking lifeless, skin terrible etc) and goes into a frenzy where she will attack anything that moves until she feels satisfied again, those frenesies can lead to two or more lifes ending depending on how long her last feed was. She can also choose to transfer that to someone, applying a healing effect on them but memories won't be transfered.

Fox Fire - It's a magical fire that only those of the Vesani tribe can call upon and manipulate, it can burn the literal soul of the person it touches.

Speed Rush - Ahri can move with great speed, almost disappearing from sight, except from a few flashes of foxfire and her tail.

Charm - Ahri has a special charm magic that allows her to enchant other creatures to follow her or do her biddin, making them easier to manipulate and twist to get her way. One way to tell if she is using charm or not is that her iris get a slight shade of pink and she has a slightly sweeter scent to her, like a pheromone.

Memory Manipulation - Ahri can manipulate memories that she has and absorbs. She can transfer them to objects if she so wishes, but avoids doing so because it requires a special vessel.

About:

My Ahri follows the lore with my own little tweeks. such as listed bellow:

Ahri doesn't have many memories of her life prior to the snow foxes that she lived with, and now she knows it's related to whatever happened to the Vesani, her mind simply shut down after that what caused her to regress and lose her memory due to trauma. Considering she was still a child, it always has to do with the fact a child usually doesn't remember much of her earliest years.

After she killed her first lover, Ahri decided to go after 'bad humans' to try and ease her mind of the senseless slaughter that she caused. She will hunt from the harmless thief to the most vicious serial killer, but since those are still not the easiest to find everywhere, she will go hungry at times. If Ahri goes too long without feeding, she will lose control and go into a freenzy where she will hunt for any and all humans that she sees, going as far as eating body parts until she feels her hunger has been satisfied. Those episodes are often followed by a lot of guilt on her part.

[murmew]

Cakeverse: Cake & Fork Dynamic of Vernetto

Today, I opened up AO3 and caught a glimpse of another C&F fic for Vernetto. Interestingly, I have never seen the AU until very recently, so I was quite surprised. This would be the second C&F fic I've seen for the ship, and it got me thinking about the dynamic a bit. From my understanding C&F is very similar to omegaverse in that people are categorized.

Fork: Regular people can become Forks. When the symptoms begin to set in, the Fork loses the ability to taste regular food and drink, even having the urge to vomit when trying to eat. Their hunger can only be sated by Cake (from my understanding there is one Cake for a given Fork, but I'm simply assuming).

Cake: The object of a Fork's desire and hunger. Their aroma is sweet, their blood and flesh alluring. They are literal prey to Forks who have an irresistible urge to devour them (literally).

Regular: Good ol' regular people.

Now here's where the dynamic get's interesting. For both the fics I have seen: 圣餐 and 【14tk14】强制进食, the roles of Vertin and Sonetto are conveniently swapped around. Both authors do quite well with characterization and provide an interesting exploration in how each person would react as Cake/Fork.

In 圣餐, where Sonetto is the Fork, and Vertin the Cake, we see Sonetto resist the urge to interact with Vertin, locking herself in her room etc. Eventually they are alone together and Sonetto cannot hold back any longer and she lunges. Vertin is shocked and barely manages to push Sonetto away from tearing into her neck. It is now that Vertin discovers that Sonetto had become a Fork, and she her Cake. After restraining Sonetto, Vertin doesn't report it to the Foundation, but rather decides to help Sonetto conceal her Fork nature. The title of the fic is literally Holy Communion, a reference to Vertin's act of absolving Sonetto's hunger through her own flesh and blood. Near the end of the fic, she even says, "All that you desire, ask and you shall receive..." to really drive the point home. Overall, the tone is dark and dreary. Even with the NSFW scene, it is more a desperate entanglement than erotic.

In 【14tk14】强制进食, where Vertin is the Fork, and Sonetto her Cake, Vertin avoids Sonetto with the excuse of a flu for several days. Sonetto being observant concludes that Vertin must have become a Fork. Entering Vertin's office, Sonetto stubbornly insists on getting closer and drugs Vertin in order to tie her to her chair. This is where the title, Force Feeding or Gavage comes into play. Unlike the previous fic, the Fork (Vertin) resists succumbing to her desire through sheer willpower, but it is clear that she is suffering. In this time, Sonetto forces Vertin to drink her blood knowing the risk.

An excerpt that stood out to me:

How would Sonetto react if she really did bite her carotid artery? Try to escape in fear? Suffer in silence? No, perhaps it would be an utterance, "I shall gladly give my life for the welfare of mankind." After all, she was the one who least valued herself.

This line was quite good I'd say. It captures Sonetto's selfless loyalty, and Vertin here knew it just as well. The following NSFW scene was also pretty standard compared to 圣餐.

Interestingly, both authors allow Vertin to take the lead regardless of her role. She is always the one with Sonetto's "leash" in hand. In 圣餐, Vertin acts as a "Savior" who bestows, and in 【14tk14】强制进食 Sonetto acts as the "Pawn" who gives. I had a good time reading these works, and I especially think the dialogue was well done in both of them! I suggest checking them out even with a machine translation!

*Excerpts and dialogue are all translated by me for ease of discussion. The actual fics themselves are in Chinese

[according2thelore]

Love potion no. 9

1, 3, 4, 9(haha), and 11

Literally the 1st fic that introduced me to yall and probably my favorite!(though you have so many good ones, especially when combined with the art🤌🤌)

hi!! :) EEP thank you so much, i'm so glad you like it! i agree--charlotte's art immediately elevates anything it's accompanying into an S-tier item

here's the link to love potion no. 9 on ao3! (quick recap: it's the love potion one, lol)

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

i LOVE love potion fics, especially subversive love potion fics where they don't work how they're supposed to, or work in opposite ways. love potion fic (not sex pollen fics (which are also v fun but mostly don't deal w the icky gross guilty emotions of being in love w someone)) are pretty rare generally, but oooooh i eat them up when i find them.

in this case, i chose dean because a sam who found out he was bewitched would probably avoid dean as much as possible as to not make dean uncomfortable, and i think sam would have the most guilt about taking away/infringing upon someone else's autonomy/true wants. and i loveeee writing angsting winchester narration. it's delicious 2 me.

i also wanted it to feel kinda rom-commy? third act conflict, miscommunication, and all.

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

It’s exactly what he had thought it would be, when he still let himself think about it. He had shared this man’s toothbrush, had shared his bed, had shared his clothes. This isn’t anything foreign, this is Dean. It's the rush of the Impala’s wheels underneath him, the adrenaline of a fight, the spark of Roman candles, the salt of sweat and tang of blood and the depthless, endless night.

this one, i think! i think i have some really solid lines in this fic, but this one makes my chest fuzzy. or this one (also solid!):

Dean’s eyes are soft, and his mouth is pulled into a hesitant smile. He looks exhausted, suddenly. He looks…In his pajamas and bare feet and toast crumbs on his shirt, Sam doesn’t think he’s ever loved anything more. Sam’s throat closes. This is so unfair. This is so fucked.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

“Well, you went on that huge rant about those kudzu-eating goats last month and invasive species blah blah blah. So wildflowers. Y’know.” Dean trails off, and looks at Sam over his shoulder as he wads the empty paper bag into a ball. “They’re wild.”

i don't know! i think this one is fun bc it kinda captures the dean i'm going for in this fic: very purposefully blasé. he cares but he can't let you know, until it all bubbles over. he listens to sam's dorky rants, but cannot tell him that outright lol--what if sam finds out he cares?? no shot.

bonus: i don't know which one to count this as (dialogue or narration), but i like this line because dean's trying to do the math on the acceptable brother-to-woman ratio for sam to have sex with him, which i thought was pretty funny

Dean had been coming around by then, muttering “S’mmy? ‘f there’re two of ‘em…would you do it then? ‘ow many—how many do I have to get?” as Sam hauled him to his feet.

9 (lol): Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

originally (to the surprise of no one, lol) this fic was longer! i had a couple of scenes included in the "montage" in the middle, about an early kiss (in which dean decides to go for it and sam thinks he just assaulted his brother), and a couple other i forget now! i am terrible about wanting to do every single idea a have for a fic, even when they don't fit as well.

i also was originally going to have the potion work the entire time, but it plays out the exact same. dean doesn't feel any more in love w sam than he already is, bc he is already in love with him, and thinks the potion didn't work. he does all the shenanigans anyway, bc like hey why the fuck not? but then it became tricky when it came to how sam finds out that this is genuine emotion from dean and not the potion actually working.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

i think it's fun! besides the end, it's mostly ridiculous and fluffy, and i think i got sam's brain pretty okay! which is not my usual forté. i like the balance it strikes between being fluffy (the flowers, the bar, etc.) and agonizing (sam's running narration abt this being real). i was genuinely shocked that this is one of my more popular fics, but i'm so glad it is! it makes me happy! :)

(send me one of my fics and i'll answer some questions!)

[lunarsilkscreen]

Why Hearthstone Priest sucks

Priest in Hearthstone has several identities given to it by blizzard devs. Holy and Shadow magic, and the key terms; Purification, Conversion, Mimic, and Healing. With the main mechanic being healing.

But why does this class seem underpowered?

The first is that, because of Priest's healing mechanic; the devs probably thought that; like warrior--priest should have a delay until ultimate style of play.

The problem is; Priest doesn't currently have a set Ultimate. There is the devastating dragon deck "Take an extra turn". But this inherently avoids making use of Priest's healing ability.

It's not useless, but it's not great either. Considering Warrior gets to go above the max HP *and* make use of lifesteal, where Priest gets to be the only class seemingly limited to the maximum health.

Now priest *does* utilize an "overheal" mechanic; meaning that characters who deal damage to themselves, and/or have "overheal" abilities, can make the deck very durable. Until the ultimate.

And then the problem is; to balance this priest barely gets any removal... Though... Priest *does* get to use anti-hand-buff tactics, and devastating negatives to players who are trying to be quick weenies.

And yet; Priest isn't as durable as Paladin, who's keywords are Holy Tank. Can't really make use of the "purification" abilities. Such as silencing enemies, which would definitely help balance out the pacifist design.

Instead, being geared towards overheal, Astral Automata, and utilizing minions that have drawbacks.

Despite that particular style having a conflict of interest with the other Priestly mechanics.

Using the "Silence" all your minions gets rid of all their benefits too... But you only get two chances unless you manage to copy the spell.

Which means buff deck and anti-buff deck in priest *do not* synergize well.

Unlike other classes where you can build in all their core mechanics and switch between them as RnG dictates.

And ontop of that; the Astral Automata super nerf from celestial copy cat guy, and removal of Resurrection means that Priest is really far in the red.

Though, one could argue that priest needed that nerf to begin with. That it also needed the common core cards, means that every other deck that could make use of it as an augment mechanism has been nerfed for that as well.

Though ... Warrior really needed that nerf too.

The puppet master paradigm that makes copies of cards you draw is very powerful provided you can protect it for longer than a single turn, or wait until you have max mana. But by then; the opponent's combo is already at full momentum.

This is really the only class that I see struggling in this game. Despite my interest in making off-meta decks and decks that can change strategy or combine strats to throw enemies off their game.

Which inherently makes the core combos weaker while increasing survivability.

Consider that Warrior can combo into any one of it's core mechanics; Taunt Buff, Dynamite, Odyn Aegis, with intense synergy, but Priest cannot.

And, ontop of that; the copy/mimic mechanic is far too expensive to utilize except as a resource generation (weaker than other generative abilities) except for the puppet-gate, which can cheat out cheap titans and battlecrys. But only if the opponent is using that mechanic.

And if they have enough counters? Then this single counter doesn't really reinforce an endgame ultimate, so much as attempts to weakly replace it.

This is also a gripe I have about Rogue, as rogue can combo literally everything, but is outpaced by other fast decks, and can't ensure as long as a Warrior.

But, Rogue has the advantage of being able to utilize an opponent combo *before* they are able to because of the sheer access to all sorts of combos.

And having ridiculous RnG.

Priest has the potential to use an opp's mechanic, but only if they know what's in the opp's hand. Which... They never do.

[literaticat]

To piggyback off the question about MG, are agents willing to take on MG book knowing it's "dead" right now knowing that trends change or do they just avoid MG until they see it coming back? i.e. When they see "Middle Grade" on QueryManager they keep scrolling. If this is the situation, would you advise to hold off on querying MG until things change?

As I said in that last ask, and as I cannot stress enough -- "dead" is not a real thing.

Are MG sales in bookstores hurting at the moment? Yes. Is selling new MG difficult right now? Sure.

And yet: Are new MG coming out every week? You bet.

That means publishers are publishing them, publishers aren't going to STOP publishing them, ergo, publishers are buying them to publish in the future.

Last year, I sold 12 MG books. That's about one a month. This year, I've sold 4 MG books. It's early May. That's about one a month. So from my perspective, while things definitely feel slower than they have been, and projects are taking longer to sell, and some projects that I would have expected to sell haven't sold (yet?) -- that doesn't mean that it is literally DEAD.

IMO, an agent MIGHT avoid MG (or just be EXTREMELY picky about it) if they already have a ton of MG in the pipeline that they haven't sold, because it's like, well, I have to deal with the things on my plate before I add new things to the plate. But that could be the case for ANY category at ANY time, and that's not something you, a random querier, can possibly know or predict.

So, obviously, do what you want, but IMO, if they are open to MG, that means they are interested in seeing MG projects. If your project is ready and great, why not query? Yes, agents will be picky, but they are always picky, and waiting won't make them LESS picky.