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writing-zelda-brainrots · 3 months ago

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The Apothecary’s Travel Guide Chapter 1

Quickly, before we begin, I want to set some things straight about this little fic series.

This fic will use Fem!Reader in both pronouns and body descriptions. I usually stick to gender neutral stuff, but this fic just works better with a female main character in mind (or at least I think so).

While I won’t be going into actual nsfw stuff (maybe in the future, I haven’t decided), this fic will still contain sexual themes and scenarios. This fic is meant for older teens and up. I don’t write with a young audience in mind, both for this fic and in general.

For those of you who are not familiar with The Apothecary Diaries (wtf are you doing here, go watch it), the series takes place in a fictional version of Imperial China. You don’t absolutely need to watch it to read this fic, but you will have a better understanding of things if you have (also, it’s just a really good show, very well written with one of the best female protags I’ve ever seen).

Also, this fic starts before Sunset, so the whole “Twilight is Wolfie” and “Hyrule can heal” things are not known yet.

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It felt a little strange to be back in the busy streets of the pleasure district after spending months in the rear palace. But it was the good kind of strange. The smell of grilled meat skewers that you missed so much, the paper lanterns hanging overhead, people haggling for better prices in the street side shops, playing games on the side of the road, or drinking tea in teahouses. And of course, beautiful women calling men over to offer ‘special services’ in the many brothels.

It’s a sight you’re all too familiar with. Having grown up here, raised by the women of the famous Verdigris House, these things did not phase you. One would think that working in the palace would be quite the change of pace, but if there’s one thing that you’ve learned over the past however many months, it is that the palace and brothels aren’t all that different. A beautiful caged garden full of flowers for the emperor to enjoy looking upon.

In truth, if you had the choice, you would not want to have anything to do with the imperial palace, but given your situation, what could you do? You certainly didn’t ask to be kidnapped and sold off to the palace back then and you didn’t ask to be promoted to lady in waiting to one of the four highest ranking concubines. You were doing just fine as an apothecary back in the pleasure district, thank you very much.

You had originally attempted to stay low, worked as a simple, low ranking servant until your contract expired and then head home. You hid any signs of value that could get you promoted; you hid your ability to read and write, as well as hid your ‘true beauty’ so you wouldn’t become a concubine (even if a servant could only ever become a low ranking concubine). Any extra money you would have earned from those promotions would just be swiped by your kidnappers, anyway. At least you still got paid for your regular work.

Had things originally gone according to your plan, you would have worked hard and been released within three years. However, now that goal post has been moved quite a bit.

But you shouldn't be thinking about work right now; it was your day off, after all. You were back home (after managing to haggle your way into them letting you leave the palace) and that’s all that matters right now.

I should get some radishes and chicken for soup tonight. You thought as you walked down the street of the makeshift market. You hoped that your father had been eating well. He was never all that good at feeding himself. If he was starving for a few days, the old lady from the Verdigris House would force something down his throat.

Speaking of the Verdigris House, you should probably head there later. Both to say hello to your ‘big sisters,’ but also so you could take a bath there. They’d likely want some medicine, too, now that you thought about it. The last time you delivered medicine there was the day you got kidnapped.

Heh. Even on my day off I’m running errands.

With your little morning shopping excursion done, you stuffed the ingredients into the basket you carried on your back and started heading to that familiar little shack you affectionately called home. Dad should be in the fields tending to the plants right now. Honestly, he was getting too old for that trek, especially with his busted knee, but you couldn’t deny that he loved that little garden he’s cultivated over the years. Not like you were any different when it comes to your passion for medicinal herbs. As your master, he taught you everything you know about medicine; what herbs work in which situations, what to use and what to avoid, how to make medicine, what plants, mushrooms and animals were poisonous and which weren’t, etc. He was a very learned man, having studied both eastern and western medicine. With a few more years of teaching, you might be as good as him, or you hoped so, at least.

Finally you reached the calm little neighbourhood you grew up in. It was on the very outskirts of the city, not even protected by the tall stone brick walls. Looking at the small sizes of the houses, barely larger than your average shack, told people that this was where the poor lived. It wasn’t much, but it was home. Truth be told, your father was an excellent medical expert, even having worked in the palace before from what you’ve heard, but for all his skill and knowledge, he had terrible luck, which is why he ended up living here instead of somewhere more fitting for his stature.

But when you got to your little childhood home, you were met with a worrying sight. A woman you didn’t recognise, worry and uncertainty written on her face, knocking on the front door of your home. That’s strange, did she need medicine? You didn’t recognise her servant uniform, but she seemed to be from one of the inns in the area.

You called out, catching her attention immediately. “Are you looking for the apothecary? He’s currently out, but I can leave him a message.”

“Please help, it’s a medical emergency! Someone’s been poisoned!”

Your face immediately turned serious as you dropped your belongings before running inside the shack to retrieve an emergency med kit. “Lead me to them.”

People had gathered around the doorway of the inn, clearly all in a panic, but not sure on what to do.

“I brought the apothecary. Please step out of the way.” The two of you moved past the seemingly small army of staff and patrons.

What you saw seemed to match what the woman had told you before. A man lying on the bed, restless, breathing erratically, hands clenching at the fabric of his clothes right over his heart. Immediately you entered your ‘work mode,’ practically diving next to the man. First, a physical check up.

You pried open the man’s eyes, looking into them; you checked his pulse and stuck a finger into his mouth. Judging from the spittle running down his chin and trace amounts of sick on the bed sheets and his blue scarf, it’s safe to say that he had vomited. Still, you pressed down on his solar plexus to induce more of it. It would help expel whatever caused this reaction, but it would also dehydrate him. There was a hrrk, and spit came pouring out of his mouth, which you wiped away with the bedsheets you had gripped.

Suddenly, a new man with brown hair and eyes came running through the door with what seemed to be a waterskin in his hands.

He was just about to offer the water to the man you were tending to, but you shouted at him: “Don’t let him drink that! Charcoal- we need charcoal!” The startled man dropped the item onto the floor, but recovered just as quickly, running off once again to retrieve the required item.

You repeated this process several times on the victim; making him vomit, wiping the bile away ad nauseum until nothing but stomach acid came out. The man was able to breathe much easier now, no longer hyperventilating. Thankfully, at your request, the charcoal had arrived just in time, which you quickly ground up with your mortar and pestle.

“This’ll be rough on his throat, but it’ll flush the toxins out of his body.” You spoke as you poured the fine powder into his mouth. Some of the men, who you assumed to be the patient’s associates, had gathered around the two of you, clearly worried.

“Wa… Water. Please…” Those were the first words you heard him speak, weak, but nonetheless a sign that he was recovering.

“Not yet. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to endure this a little bit longer.”

Though unhappy, he accepted and resigned himself to his scratchy and dry throat for the time being. Finally you were able to remove yourself from the bedside, letting the other men move the patient while the inn’s servant ladies removed the soiled linens.

First damn thing in the morning and I already have to deal with an emergency. I only just got back. You grumbled in your mind as you looked at your filthy hand. Ugh. I really need a bath. You sighed both from relief and exhaustion.

“You doin’ okay, Captain?” One of the taller men with brown hair asked while holding him up so he could stand.

The patient - now identified as ‘Captain’ - took a breath. “Much better.” He then turned his attention towards you. “Thank you. I was certain that I was a goner.”

“I am simply doing my job. There is no need to thank me.” Utilising some water in a pitcher that one of the servants offered, you wiped your hands with a damp cloth.

You then took out a wooden slip, wrote just a couple characters on it and handed it over to the servant woman who you first encountered. “Deliver this to doctor Luomen and bring him here. He should be by the south wall.”

With that, the servant gave you and everyone else in the room a small bow before leaving.

The man with a blue hat turned his attention to the patient, who had once again been laid down onto the cleaned up bed. “Now I know that stuff took you out; you didn’t even try to flirt with your “guardian angel”.”

“So that’s your impression of me?” The sarcasm in his voice was evident. “Glad to know that it took me almost kicking the bucket to change your opinion.”

Within about half an hour, the servant had returned, your father in tow. It took longer than you had hoped, but given your father’s age and condition, it wasn’t all that surprising.

He took a good look at the patient and asked some questions.

“I suppose you did an adequate job here.” He gave you his trademark gentle smile after he was done with his examination.

“‘Adequate’?” You ask, annoyed.

A man who you assumed to be the owner of the inn came into the room. “Thank you, doctor Luomen. You are the best medical expert one could ask for.”

“Don’t thank me. My daughter did all the hard work.”

“Tell me, how much do we owe you? Name your price.”

“There’s really no need-”

You nudge your father’s side with your elbow. “Can you pay rent this month?”

“Ah… Well, in that case, I’ll take the usual fee.”

This was one of his habits; undercharging for his work, or even failing to charge at all, much to your distress. You understood the desire not to take money from people who were already struggling to get by, but this was not the case.

A tall blond man in heavy armour came up to you, holding out a small-ish sack. “Please, allow us to reimburse you as well. We owe you a lot.” Seeing no reason not to, you accepted the item.

With that, your father and the inn’s owner head into another room to discuss payment, leaving you to gather up your tools.

From the corner of your eyes, you noticed a few of the men fidgeting nervously or giving each other glances. They obviously wanted to say something. You didn’t know why they were hesitating. Sure, you might have sharp, mean-looking eyes and you didn’t smile all the time, but there’s no reason for these numerous grown men to act like this around you.

“Can I help you?” You broke the ice. No point in delaying this.

The one who you assumed to be the leader cleared his throat. “Actually, we’d like you to answer some questions we have. We’re travellers from afar, you see, and we don’t know much about this place or nation.”

They came all this way here and they don’t know the first thing about where they are? “You’re in the country of Li, specifically in the capital city of both the nation and the Central Province. I’m not going to judge how you choose to spend your time, but if you wanted to go sightseeing, I wouldn’t exactly recommend coming to the pleasure district first.” You raised an eyebrow. Just who were these people?

You saw that a few of the mens’ faces had turned bright red when they realised where they were. “Ha! Told you that this is where we ended up.”

“Are you implying that you frequent these kinds of places, Captain?” It sure seemed like these two had a penchant for arguing. Even during the time while you were waiting for your father to arrive, you noticed that they kept butting heads.

“Enough, you two.” The oldest shot them a quick glare. “Either way, it’s good we left Wind with Four back at the city outskirts. Both because of the inappropriate nature of this place- no offence…”

You shrugged. “None taken.”

“... But so that they wouldn’t have to see you get in trouble like this.”

“You are the apothecary here, right? If so, then you should be familiar with people who have gotten injuries.” You nodded. “Have you heard anything about encounters with any strong monsters, particularly those with black blood?”

Alright, now you were really confused. Monsters? Black blood? Was this some kind of way of informing you of a new disease spreading among the troops of enemy nations? But if so, why not tell this to an army physician instead of a random apothecary?

“Can’t say that I have.” You spoke up after having given it some thought. “Though I have to admit that I have been working in the inner court for the past few months, so I’m not caught up on the goings on outside the palace walls. But if you are telling the truth, I’m certain I would have heard rumours.” Thinking back, Xiaolan - a girl you had grown a friendship with when you were a simple servant at the palace - sure loved her gossip, and if there was one thing she loved more, it was sharing that gossip with you over tasty snacks and food.

“Thank you anyways.”

While this conversation didn’t seem like it yielded much, it did get your gears turning. It was time to do some espionage- or rather, some investigating. Something you’ve gotten pretty good at lately, if you said so yourself.

“Please wait here while I get you some medicine.” With a quick bow you left the room. In truth you had already prepared the medicine while waiting for your father to arrive, but this was still a convenient excuse.

As quietly as you could you hid yourself behind the sliding door and pressed your ear against it. Sure enough, once the men in the room believed you to be gone, they started talking. Words like “monsters,” “eras,” “shadow” and others got thrown around as if it was common knowledge, yet it only served to confuse - and intrigue - you further. One thing was certain; these were not your regular, run-of-the-mill travellers.

Your earlier talk also gave you an opportunity to scrutinise their appearances. Given their unfamiliar clothes and armour, plus features like light coloured hair and eyes, and their utter lack of knowledge of where they even were, you assumed them to be from a distant land, the west, most likely. But that was before you noticed one curious detail that they all shared; pointed ears.

This one thing had you calling things into question. Sure, the world was a large place, but in all your years of studying medicine and the human body, you’ve never heard of any group of peoples with such a distinctive feature.

But now came the question of what to do. What were you going to do about this suspicious group? Should you report them in case they were here to cause trouble? To be honest, you didn’t want to get involved. No point in sticking your neck out for these strangers and possibly risk getting accused of treason. You’ve done your job, you healed them, and you’re about to give them their medicine and leave. There’s no need to let them occupy your mind anymore. You’d steer clear of them from now on. Yeah, that sounded good.

Finally, you pretended to have returned from your ‘excursion’ and knocked on the door. Given the sudden silence from the room, it was safe to assure that whatever they were talking about was not for others to hear.

Walking up to the Captain still in bed, you handed over a small paper bag. “Please take this for the next few days. It’ll ease your stomach and help with getting rid of any lingering toxins. I would recommend drinking it as tea.”

The one who you had identified as ‘Legend’ from when you were listening in groaned. “Ugh. This whole thing’s been a wash. You guys ready to head back to camp?”

A unanimous ‘yes’ was heard.

Ironically enough, you could not get those men out of your head. Was your intuition trying to tell you that there was something wrong with them? Or were you simply curious? They were certainly the most interesting people you’ve met in some time.

They had already left the inn and you had headed in a different direction. You did finally manage to get that warm bath you were looking forward to. And getting to speak to your ‘big sisters’ at the Verdigris House was nice. But still your mind was occupied with something else. Damn it, this was supposed to be your day off, but you haven’t been able to relax completely!

You kicked a small rock in front of you in frustration. Hopefully having dinner with your dad would help alleviate your problem.

Suddenly you felt an all too familiar feeling of being pulled backwards.

Well, this wouldn’t be your first kidnapping.

And Wars will have to suffer through that dry, ashy throat for the remainder of this fic- lol jk.

A.N Fun fact: did you know that other than Twilight (who has lived among humans for a long time), technically, Legend is the one who has interacted with humans the most? The people of Koholint Island had short, round ears, as did the people of Holodrum (Oracle of Seasons), Labrynna (Oracle of Ages) and Hytopia (Tri Force Heroes).

#linked universe x reader #lu x reader #linked universe imagines #lu imagines #the apothecary's travel guide #ta'stg

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sophswritingthings · 1 year ago

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im so obsessed w ur mizu and wife!reader but what about them finding a newborn in the woods and having to bring it to someone that can take care of it in a nearby village and mizu seeing how good their wife is with babies wondering about them having a little family knowing they never can 😭😭😭 w hurt/comfort

pairing: mizu x fem!apothecary!reader

warning(s): swearing

a/n: ya'll are trying to kill me, aren't you. YOU WANT ME TO BALL MY EYES OUT

summary: you and your wife find a newborn, nestled in crook of the woods, the baby screaming and crying for its mother. but she's no where to be found. you want to take it in so desperately; but you know you can't. you must give it up to someone who can.

word count: 1,096 words / 5,773 characters

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screaming.

you heard screaming.

your head whipped around, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. your eyes landed on a little crook, encased mostly by snow in the little ledge.

you adverted from the pathway, your wife looking at you with the most confused expression.

when you bent down to see what it was, a small newborn, swaddled in white bandages. your eyes widened, a hand covering your mouth in surprise. the fact that someone would leave a baby.. just out in the freezing cold, no mother to be seen.

mizu watched as you lifted the baby into your arms. the way yo rocked your arms to attempt to calm the small child, shushing and cooing to tell them it was okay. you looked so natural doing it.. so kind, so gentle and tender.

it reminded her of how desperately she loved you. how much she would want to just settle down with you, start a family of your own, away from all this madness.

but she couldn't. she had to complete her quest; no matter how much she just wanted to be with you.

she shook her head to shake her out of her own thoughts, gazing down at you through her glasses.

"mizu, could we..." you knew what you were going to ask. you wanted to keep it. you wanted this little child to be loved an swaddled in the warmth of your embrace; of your wife's embrace.

but you knew that could never happen.

you nodded a little, accepting the idea rather quickly. you looked ready to place the baby back. but mizu grabbed your arm, jerking you back to your feet.

"we can at least take it to the village nearby. leaving it in the cold seems.. unreasonable." she murmured, sliding off her overcoat. she wrapped it around you and the child, to keep the two of you warm. she could last until the baby was tucked away safely.

she knew why you wanted to put it back. she knew your way of thinking; if you knew its fate, you'd never think about it ever again. it would never be a worry that plagued your mind ever again.

you trudged toward the village, making sure to keep the little one out of the cold. it had stopped crying, now. the baby would shift and make little coos every now and than, but no cries of pain, thankfully.

mizu kept her arm wrapped around the two of you protectively. she would glance at the baby every so often. she honestly wanted the baby as much as you did, but you couldn't.

you just couldn't.

you stopped outside of an inn, a woman settled at the desk. you approached first and foremost, revealing the baby under your coat.

"we.. found it in the forest," you whisper. "w-we can't keep it. we figured we could drop it off here..?"

"I'll take it down to the orphanage."

the word made your heart sink. knowing that this child would be orphan, with no family to love them.. when you and your wife were standing right here..

"o-okay," you were almost about to hand the baby over to her. but you pulled back. "we can care for it for the night.. w-we'll drop it off before we leave in the morning."

mizu glanced at you. she was wondering why you would do that; trying to not get attached was the goal, right?

but she didn't dare question you. she paid the keeper what she needed to, and followed you back to one of the rooms.

you slipped off her coat, handing it back to her.

"grab some food.. they're probably hungry," you murmur, settling down on the bed with the newborn in your arms. "I can't believe someone would just leave a child alone, in the cold."

mizu scoffs, grabbing some food for both you and the child.

"I can," she replies coarsely. "people are ruthless. if they don't want something, they leave it to die a harsh death."

"yes.. i.. suppose your right," you mumble, taking the food. you took a bit of the broth on a spoon, pouring it down the young ones throat. you fed them as much as you could, before they began to fuss and refuse your food.

"you need to eat too, my love," mizu sat beside you, running a hand through your hair.

"I-im not hungry," you stammer, gazing down at the little one. "I can't eat."

"talk to me," she whispers, resting her head against yours as she wraps an arm around your shoulder.

"ive always wanted a family.. with my.. person," you glance at mizu, your eyes watering with tears. "and you're my person, mizu. I want a family with you. but I know... I know we could never have a family. I know, with.. everything.. we could never have a family."

she listens to your words; and she's sure she can hear her heart breaking. she wanted that too, she wanted that with you so very bad. but you were right. you couldn't have it. you could reach and reach for the stars as much as you wanted, but you could never have it, never touch it.

but here was the little opportunity, presenting itself to you. and here you were, denying it. but it was just what you had to do. you had to let go of that hope.

"I know.. I know," she continues brushing her fingers through your hair, knowing it calmed you.

you buried your head in her shoulder, tears running down your face. you wanted a normal life with your wife so bad. you couldn't even tell how much you wanted it until it was leaving you.

"its okay. its okay," she whispered, "once this is all over, (y/n) we'll figure this out. maybe--maybe one day we could have a family. that time just.. isn't now."

she knew it wasn't possible at all. but she needed you to stay hopeful, to stay the same you that you always were. she needed that. she needed you.

"o.. okay." you murmur.

"lie down, my love. get some rest," she guided you to lie down, resting the baby in your arms as you slept. she wrapped you up in her embrace, brushing your hair until she was sure you were asleep.

she wanted to give you everything you wanted. so desperately did she want to give you the world.

but the world was something she couldn't give you. no matter how much she tried. it would always be out of her reach.

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a/n: SOBS VIOLENTLY

#mizu x reader #mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eyed samurai #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #fic request #request #ask #asked and answered

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bdxpelik · 3 months ago

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Chapter 18 of the 8th LN of the Apothecary Diaries is hilarious simply because Jinshi was pissed.

For context, a Go tournament was held because of this interesting trend that started after Lakan published and distributed a book on Go. The goal was to advance through the tournament and compete against the master strategist himself. If one were to win, Lakan would grant them one favor. So Jinshi decided it was worth a shot and very nearly almost won a game against Lakan by playing dirty tricks, subtly drugging Lakan with tiny doses of alcohol and exploiting his heavenly good looks - this is important otherwise he'd never even have a chance.

Lakan and Jinshi's game was interrupted (again, Jinshi was winning) by an angry buffoon who demanded Loumen to find his missing son (related to a case Maomao and Luomen handled earlier in the novel). So the chapter consists of our gang trying to solve this mystery. And Jinshi fuming in the background because he lost his chance to beat Lakan thanks to some Karen of an old man.

And it is HILARIOUS to me cuz this is one of those rare times where I ACTUALLY feel like he's a bona fide Imperial prince with real authority, barking orders at people and making them cower in fear. It's also really rare for him to openly display his anger in public sans his celestial maiden mask.

I was so entertained. It was hard to focus on what was happening in the chapter cuz at every line I can still feel Jinshi's disgust. Mind you, he had nothing to do with that case but he sat there listening because he was curious (very typical of him) and he needed some compensation for his frustration. So, watching a drama unfold is good enough.

This got me so good: Jinshi was quiet and fiddling with Go stones the majority of the time. But when the discussion was going off the rails, he used his princely authority to redirect the situation, making sure to take extra care to remind the old baffoon that "You interrupted my game". I bet there was a good dose of poison in his voice. Jinshi ordered that old man to shut up a total of 3 times in the chapter, btw lol.

The chapter ended with the mystery solved and Maomao (who at this point thinks about him wayyy too much *wink*) feeling sorry for Jinshi who she believed was the least fortunate person there. NOT the old dude who lost his son, we didn't care about him.

Anyhow, I just really loved this chapter because Jinshi didn't use a fake mask to interact with his subjects nor did he let them walk all over him and I'm like, yasss king. You da boss, make it clear. Also, he validated Maomao's skills and intelligence in front of everyone. That's your dose of Jinmao.

#the apothecary diaries #kusuriya no hitorigoto #jinshi #maomao #I like angry Jinshi and there's nothing wrong with that

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remembrancer-of-heresy · 5 months ago

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Replica (Part 5/Finale)

Summary: You finally accept his love.

Perturabo/fem!Reader

Warnings: incest (kinda), possessive behavior, manipulation, smut, dubious consent.

Word Count: 2426

It was an interesting experience. It's very sad to say goodbye to this story. But there will be others. You know, I thought that my beloved traitor-primarch Konrad Curze. But judging by the way I described these two, probably my favorite is Bo.

Song: Mitski - Washing Machine Heart (I can't even describe how perfect this song is for this story)

You didn't know how much time had passed. A couple of minutes or several hours until your quiet tears turned into sobs. The Iron Lord, who had been lying next to you all this time, looked at you with displeasure. He expected you to either fall asleep or be happily drawn to him after such closeness. But the primarch’s face quickly smooths out after you speak.

"It's hurt".

He carefully examines you from head to toe. A semblance of fear flashes in the eyes. Perturabo quickly gets up and lifts you from the bed as light and gentle as a feather. All you can do is press yourself against his massive chest. Blood is still seeping from between your legs. You almost don't feel them. While belly and bones are almost burning with pain. You wanted to tear off the lower part of yourself and throw it away just to stop experiencing these torments. Your body doesn’t listen and all you can do is close your eyes and fall asleep. Hoping that you'll never wake up.

But the Iron Lord decided otherwise.

From now on you live in the primarch's chambers. According to the man, he needed to monitor your condition, and now there is no point in you living separately. You thought he would call an apothecary or a mortal physician but Perturabo was quite knowledgeable about how to treat you. He gave you the best medicine. He fed his own blood so that the wounds would heal faster. You couldn’t help but think that it tasted exactly the same as your rations.

You could already feel your bones and your hips hardly hurt. The bruises were almost gone, which greatly pleased the primarch, who could not deny himself the pleasure of touching the exposed areas of your skin with his fingertips. A lot of time passed, but the man was in no hurry to make love to you again.

The primarch was too keen on the idea of trampling his main enemy into the mud and spending almost all his free time at work. But you, seeing his gaze, felt how much he longed to enter inside you again. But Perturabo waited, savoring the anticipation of the desired victory. You were supposed to be a reward for his efforts and pains, which no one appreciated.

And if the body gradually developed, the spirit was broken. There was no way you could get his behavior out of your head. How he took you. Appropriated you as his lover. He loved you. But along with this... someone else.

You've never heard this name. Didn't know who this girl was. But one could guess that it was someone important to the primarch. So important that at the moment of closeness he remembered someone else. And the worst thing was that at the same time he called you his... sister. That guess alone made you feel sick, and you desperately hoped you were wrong.

It's no wonder that you soon became withdrawn into yourself. Perturabo did not notice the quiet depression, focusing on your physical state. And of course, in his main goal in life. Creation of the Eternal Fortress. The greatest masterpiece that could break the body and spirit of his sworn brother Dorn.

You lay on his massive bed, putting down the book about architecture that you were reading with interest. But when the primarch speaks, all your attention must be focused on him and only him. No excuses. Perturabo enthusiastically told you how his Legion and slaves were completing the final work on Sebastus IV. Soon the fortress will be ready and the noble Rogal Dorn will fall into a trap. The Imperial Fist will lead his legion to destruction and will finally be humiliated.

“Who is Calliphone?”

You couldn't stand it. No, you couldn't do this anymore. You never asked questions, never contradicted him, and obeyed him in everything. Even when Perturabo lay in bed with you, you didn’t resist, although you were scared.

Silence reigned in the room. Perturabo sat at the table with an unreadable expression on his face. For a second you thought he was going to explode in rage. But he remained frighteningly calm. Moving the drawings aside, the men approached the bed on which you were lying, wrapped in a blanket. Sitting down on the very edge, the man carefully began stroking your knee.

“I see that human memory is failing you. The flaw of your kind, but how can I be angry with you.” - the primarch looks straight into your eyes with a grin. - "It's you. My adopted sister from Olympia.”

You feel a lump forming in your throat. Sister. He called you his sister when... when... You shudder and pull your legs up to your chest. Disgust and denial overwhelmed with renewed vigor. You wanted to hide under the blanket like a little child. You're almost babbling.

"It's not me"

“No, it’s you, my dear sister. Daughter of a tyrant, maiden of Olympia... Forgive me.” - the man, clearly not understanding the whole gamut of emotions, speaks the cherished words almost with a breath. With difficulty and with relief. Completely opening the soul that was closed from everyone. Giving his hearts to you alone. - “Please... forgive me. How could I think that you are nothing to me? You are the only one who has loved me all these years. Not one of my brother primarchs is worthy to spend even a second with you. Especially him.”

Bo moves closer and softly whispers your real name. Almost purring with pleasure, inhaling the smell of your own hair. You look at him in disbelief. Weren't you his sister a few seconds ago? Why did he suddenly remember your real identity now? The man carefully twirled your curl in his hands.

“The False Emperor always preferred Rogal to me. He wore his mark, built him a Palace... and he had you. He dared to hide you from me. To pick you up while a decrepit old woman lived at Olympia. Daring to be insolent to me. A pathetic replica, incomparable to the original. Frankly, now the memory of how I broke her neck brings only pleasure.” - all the primarch’s envy and irritation immediately disappear when he meets your gaze. The man takes your face in his giant hands, smoothing your cheeks with his thumbs. - “I will make them all regret it. They will all suffer. For you. And now I want you to sing.”

Perturabo climbs onto the bed and for a second you think he'll rip your clothes off again. But instead, the man slowly lifts your dress to your knees. You see his steely eyes mist and his mouth moves closer to your lower lips. Oh. You want to pull away, but the man squeezes your thighs forcefully, leaving new bruises that only recently disappeared from your body.

You feel his tongue slowly running along your insides. These were not passionate and uncontrollable caresses, but cold calculations. He knew exactly how he wanted to touch you, how to make you squirm. The primarch kissed you as if he was planning another attack. Measuring every movement, stoically and impartially. As if it wasn’t your moans that caused the pain in his crotch.

If only your soul were as submissive as your body. All this time he saw her. All this time he spoke to her. And in those moments when you were different from Calliphone, Perturabo saw you. And he accepted. Because you are not made of iron, you bend, you curve as it suits him. Melting under his gaze, not challenging him. You are a twisted memory of years gone by. A living replica, an imperfect but improved version. And you can't wonder. Is he kissing her now or you?

But your thoughts are lost as soon as Perturabo accelerates. A shiver runs through your body, you moan loudly, feeling your body relax after a minute of tension. And again you feel the heat, feeling how someone else’s tongue greedily collects your juices, not wanting to leave even a drop. You feel bad, scared and sad. But at the same time it’s so good.

Didn't he promise to take care of you and cherish you? This is exactly what he is doing now. You just need to let go. You no longer wanted to tremble and cry from horror or sadness. You wanted everything to be as before. So that he can show you his wonderful inventions again. So that you can talk again about the books you read, drink wine and eat fruits with him. You wanted to see a smile bloom on his gloomy face and if you are the reason for this. Then why are you still resisting? It doesn't matter who you are. He loves you. And you him?

The man, having finally had his fill and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hovers over you. With one hand leaning on the bed, the other grabbed your waist possessively. Perturabo carefully, almost analytically, watches your tired but pleased expression on your face. The corners of the lips tremble, ready to stretch into a smile of pride.

“I have dreamed for so long that we would become truly close. But I couldn’t even think that it would be so.” - almost growling, he touches your lips with his, tongue penetrating inside. There was little tenderness. Perturabo wanted to subjugate you, appropriate you, brand you so that everyone would know who you belong to. And you…

You kissed back.

***

This place was wonderful. Your little personal paradise. Where you can be safe and no one will ever hurt you. Bo took care of it. He himself recreated your chambers in his native Olympic style. Massive columns supported a gigantic ceiling, and the snow-white walls were decorated with golden birds. Your chambers were exactly like the golden cage you saw on the first day you met Perturabo.

He often visited you after he took care of business. The rest of the time you were devoted only to yourself. Alas, the servants could not entertain your pastime. The Iron Lord took care to rip out their tongues and eyes. Slaves should not offend your ears with their voices. Should not look at the property of the daemon-prince.

You stood on the balcony, leaning on the railing. The Fortress of Hate had the best view of Medrengard. Absolutely black buildings were buried in smoke and fire from constantly working machines. Neither the smell nor the heat could touch you. Perturabo has ensured that your chambers are well protected from the stifling surface temperatures.

You could see the Iron Warriors arriving from the Imperial world with a new regiment of slaves. Frequent guests, the Dark Mechanicum, were already leaving the residence with a very satisfied look. It appears that the meeting with the primarch ended satisfactorily for both parties.

There is no limit to the genius of the Iron Lord. Only he could create such a truly terrifying fortress world. The Imperial fists were not one iota able to create such perfection. Remembering your young years on one of Rogal Dorn’s controlled worlds, you could only marvel at your naivety.

No, you were from Olympia.

You hear the massive door of the chambers open and a menacing voice orders the slaves to leave the chambers. You almost choke on air and with incredible difficulty restrain the desire to joyfully run out to meet the primarch. But until the servants leave, you must save face.

But how happy it was to see Bo again. He has come to you! You can see him again, hear him. Feel the touch on your body. As a sister, as a lover, but you are not his sister either. To feel with every fiber of the soul his demonic presence, his divine greatness. Only when the door closed behind the last servant did you exhale. It turns out you weren't breathing all this time.

A mutated hand, blessed by chaos, rests on your shoulder. Claws gently touch your delicate skin. The blood of a primarch with rejuvenation drugs did not allow you to fade away. Bo said that you, like him, cannot grow old, cannot die. No, not just can't. Should not.

“Another world of the Corpse on the Throne has fallen. Soon the galaxy will be cleansed and you will never feel in danger.” - the mechanical rumbling voice hardly turns to a whisper. - “I remember you saying that you could become a remembrancer of Dorn. How long ago it was. But you became mine. Always was."

Oh, yes, you were his former captive from your homeworld Rudah. You will always be. You've never seen Olympia. It was Perturabo who told you about the wonders of his home world, and you fell in love with his culture. Exactly. How could you forget? Bo himself didn’t remember who you were.

He says your name. It sounded like a cacophony of sounds the most beautiful melody. You turn around and look at him adoringly. He's so handsome. Black flesh with red veins fused with iron. The once human face resembles the symbol of the Iron Warriors.

Perturabo was with you again. You will drink wine, he will talk about his grandiose plans, and then you will either go to the baths or end up in bed. Or maybe all at once. You hug the primarch tightly around his wide waist, unable to clasp your hands.

“Bo, I love you so much.”

The daemon-prince rumbles with pleasure as he allows the frail mortal girl to touch him. The claw gently lifts your chin, forcing you to look straight into the black eyes of the primarch. Perturabo kneels down to be at eye level with you.

“As always, you can’t contain your emotions, dear sister.” - the man pulls your small seductive figure closer to him. Even in his world, in his tower, he strives to hide you from everyone. The iron mask opens slightly and a long black tongue touches your neck. The skin hisses with the primarch's saliva. - “But enough words. It's time to get down to business."

You just smile happily, holding back so as not to moan at the top of your lungs. The personality is bursting at the seams, sticking together again like plasticine, as soon as Bo tells who he sees you. Whom does he desire right now or in the future.

And you will be anything for him.

#primarch x reader #primarch x oc #perturabo x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #tw: yandere #tw: obsession #tw: incest

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i-guess-im-into-this-now · 7 months ago

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The Apothecary Diaries

S1E24 First Watch

Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.

If you want to start at the beginning:

Episode 1

My character/locations cheat sheet:

Master Shishou - Lady Loulan's father

Suirei: court lady who tried to assassinate Jinshi

Final episode of season one let's go!

Lakan: Fengxian. I wanted to be with the daughter we (she)* left behind. That was my only wish.

*There is a mismatch of the words being spoken in English dub and the English subtitles.

Oh does he think Fengxian is dead? Shit. Do I need to retract some of the mean shit I said about him last time?

We see Lakan sitting in the brothel staring at the dried rose that Maomao left for him, and the severed fingers that he treasures. He's thinking of seeing Maomao as a child

Lakan: It's natural for her to hate me, but I still wanted her close by.

So he did try to come and claim Maomao at some point. And why couldn't he? Did the ladies at Verdigris House prevent him from taking her? Did Luomen? Did Lakan ultimately decide he couldn't raise this little girl for some other reason?

Lakan: But that despicable man. I'll never forgive him for placing his hand on my daughter's shoulder three times during our match.

First of all, we are still seeing these creepy game-piece-headed nightmares in this episode. When will it end?

Second of all, I didn't notice that Jinshi was touching Maomao in the last episode. I'm fairly certain it was not shown, which to me indicates that it happened but Maomao didn't take notice of it. Is casual touch so commonplace that it doesn't warrant notice, or was she so focused on the game that it was irrelevant.

Lastly, WTH Lakan? Wasn't he the one cracking jokes about Jinshi and Maomao last episode? And, can no one in this show read the fricking room? Obviously, there is something happening between these two. I suppose Lakan has an excuse with his face blindness, but honestly I expected better from him.

Lakan: The question is how do I exact my revenge?

Well Lakan, I think you'll have to choose between your two goals of having Maomao close by and exacting revenge on Jinshi, because those two goals are in opposition. If Lakan ever wants to have a relationship with Maomao, he will have to leave Jinshi alone, because Maomao is not going to tolerate Lakan screwing with her man employer.

Granny comes to talk to Lakan about picking a courtesan. I had this all wrong apparently. I thought Maomao was intending for him to take care of her mother. It seems he can pick any courtesan that he wants.

Lakan approaches Meimei, who says she would be glad to accept, though her body language says otherwise. She opens the doors to the courtyard where Fengxian can be heard singing. Granny is not happy, but Lakan takes off running towards the sound.

Lakan: A withered flower still retains it's beauty. If that was suppose to be a message... it can't be!

So he didn't know Fengxian was alive then? Which means I can't blame him for not stepping forward to care for her in the past.

Lakan runs, frantic, to where the singing is coming from. He enters Fengxian's room. She's turned away looking out the window, but she's singing a song that Lakan can't forget. And he's stunned. Like seeing a ghost. He's staring at a woman he thought was dead. A single tear falls down his face.

Ah shit. That's some good drama right there.

Lakan picks Fengxian. He'll pay any amount. Granny can't believe this. She's not happy. It doesn't make sense. Did she forget about the history between these two?

And what was granny's role in all of this anyway? Did she give Lakan the impression that Fengxian was dead? Why would she do that? Couldn't granny have taken advantage of Lakan's interest in Fengxian and sold off the otherwise worthless Fengxian? My guess is that Fengxian hated Lakan so much at that point, that Granny thought she needed to protect her from going to him. She's not as avaricious as she would make herself seem.

Fengxian is spacing out. To get her attention, Lakan places some Go pieces in her hand. When she finally turns to him, he asks her to play a game with him, then full on ugly cries.

It's a beautiful moment. After all the problems that kept these two apart, they are finally reunited.

They play on the bed, without a board, but it seems that at least this part of Fengxian's mind remains, because she's making cleaver moves. Lakan reminisces about how they used to play and credits Fengxian for Maomao's strengths. Does she deserve that credit...

Meimei is overwhelmed. She cries. She blames Granny for keeping these two apart.

Lakan says he will buy Fengxian's contract, and when he sees her he sees her as she was in her prime. Beautiful, without the bandages or the disease, or the any of the changes that time has wrought. Does he see her this way because of his love for her, or because of his face blindness?

I wonder how much of Fengxian's mind remains. How much does she understand about what is happening? How much, if at all can she consent to this? Perhaps that is Granny's concern as well. For someone so out of their mind, and at the end of their life, I can't see what Lakan's presence can do to benefit Fengxian. Perhaps he improves her legacy, by giving her tale a nicer ending, but as far as her experience of it goes... he's too late.

This is all for Lakan's benefit. He is reunited with the woman he loved, he get's to finally buy out her contract like he wanted to so many years ago. He gets to erase some of his regrets, correct some of his miscalculations. It's a redemption for him, though a selfish one since he is the only one who benefits from it. Arguably, Verdigris House benefits as well, but he sure as hell ain't doing this for them. I could listen to an argument that he is doing this in part because he believe Maomao wants him to, but primarily, I think this is all for himself.

(I'm sorry Lakan fans. I will try harder on the rewatch to unearth some love for your dude)

Maomao is returning from the Verdigris House with ray-of-sunshine, Basan! They oversee Lady Loulan and her father conversing, and Basan calls the two of them snakes. Maomao, rightly, thinks that's a pretty dangerous thing to say. She doesn't want to lose her head just because Basan can't keep his nasty opinions to himself. And though Maomao always avoids gossip, I very much want to know what Basan knows about Lady Loulan and Master Shishou.

Maomao is dead tired, she has been working her ass off for the last month to grow those roses for the Garden Party, and now she just wants to sleep, but Basan informs her that Jinshi wants to see her first.

Jinshi: You must be tired. Maomao: Not really.

Why lie about this? My guess is that Maomao doesn't want anyone to fuss over her. Her wellbeing isn't important anyway, so why mention how she feels?

But Suiren does worry over Maomao, mentioning how much weight she's lost since the last time she saw her. Good. I'm glad to see this more obvious show of care for Maomao. I really just want everyone to love on this girl and take care of her.

Oh and she's "Xiaomao" to Suiren now too. ❤️She gets a nice big meal and is told to eat up.

Jinshi wants to know what the deal is with Maomao and her dad. Maomao explains that she doesn't hate Lakan.

Maomao: Afterall, I would not even be here if he weren't able to land his shot so to say. ... No courtesan bears a child if she doesn't want one.

And that makes a lot of sense actually. Maomao explains how women can prevent pregnancy, abort unwanted pregnancies, predict their fertility... it all points to the conclusion that Fengxian wanted to use Lakan to get pregnant.

Last episode we saw how Fengxian's plan all came crashing down by unforeseen circumstances. In her rage she cut off both her own finger as well as that of her infant.

Maomao explains to Jinshi about Lakan's face blindness. Jinshi, who has no issues with empathy, thinks that's unfortunate. Luomen was the one who told Maomao about Lakan's condition, and he also thinks the condition is quite sad. I wonder if Maomao knows that Luomen is Lakan's uncle? Maomao thinks that Lakan's obsession with her comes from the fact that she is one of the very few people whom Lakan can recognize.

Jinshi has kept a large vase of the blue roses that Maomao grew for him, because he's in love with her they were just going to be thrown out otherwise, and Maomao reflects while looking at them. She wonders if her meaning was clear enough when she sent the withered rose to Lakan.

She claims again that she doesn't hate Lakan. She's grateful to have been born and have been raised by Luomen. Jinshi pushes back, recalling her intense reaction when Lakan's name came up before.

Maomao: No offense, but you've got a lot to learn Master Jinshi.

You don't know me. Yet.

Maomao is also grateful that Lakan helped her interrupt the ceremony that would have killed Jinshi.

Maomao: It's like he had a feeling something bad was going to happen too.

Gee, almost like he knew somethin about it, or had figured it out already?

Maomao explains that Lakan doesn't need evidence to form his conclusions. He can pick up on subtleties that aren't even conscious, to use gut feelings that are rarely wrong. Maomao regrets that Lakan can't be depended on to actually act on these feelings. She believes she could have stopped Suirei from escaping if Lakan had gotten involved earlier and she would now have the secret resurrection drug that Suirei hinted at.

Maomao is jealous of Lakan. Luomen praises Lakan without caveats, something she can only wish for. Friends. I know you all think I'm too hard on Luomen, and it's probably true. And I feel compelled to say that I don't hate him or even dislike him. I know Maomao loves Luomen and he's done all he can for her. But she's still hurt by his lack of praise. It's had an effect on her emotional and psychological development.

Maomao warns Jinshi not to underestimate Lakan.

Gaoshun adds that no father wants to be disliked by their children. Okay Gaoshun, are you projecting here? Some dads are dicks, and absolutely deserve to be disliked whether they like it or not. Does Gaoshun worry that his children don't like him? Is it because Basan is his son? He really shouldn't take Basan's pissy attitude personally, he's like that with everyone!

Meimei sends a package with a beautiful shawl and news from the brothel. She hopes that Maomao will dance for her when she is bought out. Maomao actually picks up the shawl and spins around with a soft sigh. Does Maomao enjoy dancing? Something she picked up at the brothel perhaps?

Maomao seems inspired by the gift. She sits down in front of her makeup and a beautiful outfit that is on a rack in her room.

Cut to Jinshi watching the sunset. Is the sunset just a transition to a night scene or is it symbolic of closure in the story? We are coming to the end of not just this episode but this entire season, so a sunset is certainly appropriate.

Maomao stands atop the wall of the palace, dressed in her finery, looking out to the bright city beyond. We get a glimpse of Maomao's yet unhealed leg, her freckles, her lovely courtesan's dress, her beauty. An amalgamation of all the different parts that make up Maomao. She is here to dance, as Meimei suggested. Here on the same wall where two other women have stood earlier in the season with drastically different results.

The show revisits a recurring theme from throughout the season: for women who live in a cage there are only two ways out, freedom or death.

First we had seen the concubine who danced atop the wall as she waited for her lover to return and secure her release. Freedom.

Later we saw the servant girl who plunged into the moat to end her life. Death.

And now Maomao, who often walks the line between the two. Over the course of this season we've seen her struggle with both. When the servant girl died, we heard suicidal ideation from Maomao. We've also seen her ingest deadly poison. Always flirting with death, not sure if she should welcome it or fight against it.

And freedom. We've seen her at the crossroads of her life, with decisions ahead of her. Particularly, with whether she should remain in the Pleasure District or return to the Rear Palace. And Maomao struggled with freedom, caught by indecision.

In this moment, under the stars, she doesn't have to think. She's feeling. A deviation from her usual modus operandi. Perhaps with Meimei's letter she can let go of some of the turmoil from her past. Fengxian is with Lakan now, that knot that has finally been undone. Her sisters in Verdigris House are safe and happy for the moment, with hope for each of their futures. Maomao is in the Rear Palace to watch over Lady Gyokuyou and the ladies of the Jade Pavilion. And Jinshi is safe, after both an attempt on his life by Suirei and an attempt on his reputation from Lakan. So for the moment the people Maomao loves are safe, and she can stand on top of a wall and dance under the stars and just feel.

Of course the practical reason behind it is that she's practicing to make sure she remembers the steps. Meimei asked her to dance for her after all.

And Jinshi is here. It's the end of the final episode. I'd be disappointed if he didn't show up.

She's so surprised to see him, she nearly falls off the roof. Maomao... I know you are an anime girl but isn't that a little cliché...

No matter, it offers Jinshi a chance to catch her. He always will.

Jinshi: I got a report about another weird woman who was climbing up the outer wall.

It's a recurring problem in this palace.

Jinshi: You're always causing me trouble.

And you fricking love it. Shut up.

Maomao was recognized by the guard that saw her go up the wall, and the guard was wise enough to go directly to Jinshi. Of course Jinshi came himself.

Maomao explains that in the Pleasure District, that when a courtesan is bought out that it is customary for the others to dance in her honor. Ahh, so she's dancing for her mother then.

That Lakan has bought a courtesan is big news in the Pleasure District, and even in the palace. The number of lamps on the street, as well as the number of banquet days, indicate that a courtesan of the highest status was bought out, though the public never sees her. We get a glimpse of Fengxian in red. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe red is the color of wedding garments. I'm not sure if that's intentional here or not. But in any case, no one, not even me, can mistake Lakan's grand romantic gesture in treating Fengxian with so much respect.

Jinshi questions who Lakan may have bought out at the Verdigris House, and Maomao plays dumb, which is not fooling Jinshi.

Jinshi: Just who did the strategist buy out any way? Maomao: What? As if I should know. Jinshi: Yes. Without a doubt. Maomao: No matter how beautiful she is, she would never be a match for you. Jinshi: That didn't answer my question.

She doesn't want to say. And he's not going to push her. She tries to deflect, and he lets her. He once again is asking her to open up to him, and she is still saying not yet. But Jinshi never gives up on Maomao. He will simply let her have her secrets for now. But he's so steadfast in his pursuit of Maomao that the audience can have no doubt that he will continue to try.

Fengxian won't last long. She's in the end stages of her disease. Maomao reflects on how her birth affected the reputation of Verdigris House. No one spoke to Maomao about who her mother was, because Grams tried to protect that information, but Maomao discovered it anyway. Prideful Fengxian couldn't recover from the shame of her failed plans, her loss of reputation, and she always chased Maomao away. Maomao claims that none of it matters to her. She's just happy being Luomen's daughter. I don't believe she's so unaffected, but that's an issue for a future season!

Maomao's macabre fun facts are not in fact fun for Jinshi, as she explains that you can cut off the tip of your finger and that it will grow back. I'm glad she didn't lose this part of her that was taken by one parent to curse the other. Instead it grew back. She may be scarred from the experience but she is whole. A metaphor.

When Maomao collapses, Jinshi demands to know what's wrong to which Maomao rambles off a list of horrifying truths. Maomao's leg wound won't heal. It has opened up again. She didn't notice it because she has a high pain tolerance. Probably due to all the drugs she's taken. No problem, she can just plop down and stitch it right back up.

NO. That's not happening. Jinshi has fucking had it with this girl. He then picks her up and leaps. off. the. wall. It was a little hot. I'm so used to Jinshi simping and being generally uncool, that I get caught off guard when he's actually being hot. Maomao does too. Especially since he switches to a princess carry.

Maomao gets deadly serious for a moment. She stares Jinshi in the eyes, touches his face and leans in. Jinshi is thinking this is it. It's finally happening. Only for Maomao to ask if she can now have the ox bezoar. Is she trying to provoke him? She gets headbutted for that one. I'm typically against physical violence, but I have to say, this seems justified. Maomao is happy about it too, because now she knows she's dealing with the real Jinshi.

Lady Gyokuyou pays for premium so she gets front row access to her favorite romcom. Jinshi has come to see Maomao. This final interaction is just basically this whole show in a nutshell. The ladies of the Jade Pavilion are teasing Maomao, because they love her, and they know her boyfriend totally platonic employer is watching. Jinshi says something interesting has come up and he thought of Maomao, which of course peaks her curiosity. We don't get to hear what Jinshi wanted to ask of Maomao, but we get the impression that things will carry on much as they have been until we can see these beloved characters again.

The storytellers promise us a second season. So yay!

Thanks to the like 10 people who enjoyed this blog. It was very fun for me to write. Your comments, likes and reblogs gave me life.

I loved getting to know these characters and trying to get inside their heads. The characters are so well written, and the plot is so big and juicy. There seems to be no end to the layers of the story. It's truly fantastic.

The Apothecary Diaries is a new favorite of mine now, and since I've made it to the end of this season, I'm looking forward to not having to scroll past JinMao content on my feed to avoid spoilers!

I haven't decided if I should hold out for more of the show and continue to watch it with fresh eyes like I did for this blog, or if I should just jump into the light novels or manga. Does anyone know, are both of those things complete with a good English translation?

This won't be my last content for The Apothecary Diaries. I'm known to compulsively shit post in the fandoms I follow, so I'm sure I won't be able to resist doing that. But, perhaps once I've had some time to think on this I will have some more meta analysis to offer. I do plan to rewatch the entire season. Though I won't reblog to this degree, I may jump back in the comments on some of these blogs and add some new insights.

If you like this kind of thing and want me to do it for another one of your favorites let me know! My recommendations box is ever open. I love any kind of engaging story, in any format, and am happy (unable to stop myself) to post about it on the internet! Just tell me what you love and where to start.

Until then I guess I'm into this now.

To start at the beginning:

Episode 1

#apothecary diaries #the apothecary diaries #maomao #jinshi #jinmao #jinshi x maomao

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neptunes-sol-angel · 4 months ago

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What's even more hilarious about this video...

Is that one of the main metaphysical properties of chamomile is that it protects and it purifies.

So maybe that cup of tea IS doing a little something for you or even a lot for you by maintaining some peace and calm in your space.

If you want to get more witchier with it, start your day off with chamomile tea with the intent of gaining ways to successfully curve or resolve verbal conflicts that involve people who try to start an argument with you. Another idea is that you envision the tea that you're drinking as this elixir that helps ward away the negative repetitive thoughts that you have about yourself or what's keeping you from being relaxed.

You can get loose chamomile from your local apothecary, chamomile tea bags, or cutting up chamomile tea bags to retrieve what's inside them to add into a spell jar with other ingredients. Wishing for generation peace or purification of generational curses is a possible thing with magic, but it will still take a lot of time. Work through smaller goals and intents like starting with a spell jar that decreases arguments that happen in your home between you and a family member, a spell jar that influences any outdated beliefs that you or a family member may have, a spell jar to make the process of shadow work less painful, or a spell jar to help keep your resilience in believing and going for what's right instead of being intimidated into thinking or doing what's wrong.

#witchblr #witchcraft #spellwork #hoodoo #generational curses #generational trauma #chamomile #herb #herbalism #herbal work #herbal remedies #holistic

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plasticfangtastic · 7 months ago

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A Garden Without Impurity

A Homelander x GN Reader fic one-shot

A/N: Should be working on my other fics but i needed to get this out me system, inspired by a conversation I had in this site and watching the apothecary diaries, not an expert on chinese harem systems but i based this sort of on the Qin Dynasty system bcuz it was like the simpliest, like those emperors got around a lot… this is more drabble than fic-fic but i hope y’all enjoy.

Tags: light smut, 3-some, bilander, dark topics, not proofread I die here, non-canon complaint/canon-divergent, takes place in who knows, traditional polygamy, no dialogue here btw, Homelander being himself, light gore.

Word Count: 5K

Synopsis: You’re a member of Homelander harem, this is but a documentation of that.

Homelander was always a lonely man perpetually hunting after love, for anybody who could give him attention, who would want him. He clung easily to lovers, too young at first to notice how easily he could be tricked into becoming nothing but a trophy fuck, too inmature to notice how his behaviour frightened them in the long run, and the more and more he was hurt the worse he became, all he’d learned was how to hide his anguish– turning him dangerously bitter.

Lovers came easy but just as easily they left– either scared straight by an army of lawyers, handsomely compensated or increasingly more often in pine boxes… crisis management meetings became so commonplace they began to be run on emails.

He was a man desperate for love– so much love to give but nobody could ever give him an ounce of what he needed, an ounce of what he gave, he was hungry for intimate devotion and adoration, the public could only give him bites sizes but it was fading and quick, and his mind steadily warping from this unfulfilled primal need.

Lovers couldn’t handle how pushy he became, how possessive and controlling he could become, how he wished to monopolize everything– so it was a problem, his sickly nature only wisthand by those contractually obligated to tolerate him, Maeve who had been so perfect until the downstairs neighbors logged less and less noise complaints as their passion cool and soured and Madelyn whose allure came in how untouchable she was, how forbidden she was, how much of a special occasion she had to be, and well rumors circulated involving Mr. Edgar but nobody ever dared to discuss it much.

Porn seem to alleviate some issues but the poor team in-charge of monitoring his online usage had filed formal complaint about having to be subjected to so much ‘stepmom porn’ and increasingly bizarre fetishes, whether he watched them to get off or not was unknown but once he switched the porn to browsing r/watchpeopledie– a meeting had to be made and this time it was in person.

It was hard to pin-point the exact moment a suit suggested this solution– it was merely a joke but no matter how thick these walls were it would never be missed by Homelander, who indulge them.

And the project began to take place, with the end goal to provide him with company, and a controlled environment for Vought overseeing… a facility where the damage would be limited to seven floors and 30 large and luxurious condos.

Legally this building was just one of the many owned by Vought– like many other megacorps it was no surprise Vought dab in real estate, owning a couple buildings around the city to provide employee accommodation much like their Silicon Valley competition. After selecting the small building that once simply served as their own service apartments to accommodate shareholders, the project began to take place.

Homelander found it amusing, interested as to what things were going… surprised about how much he was looking forward to this, much to his chagrin– Homelander was very much a man and at the thought of being supplied with sex on tap he was quite happy to play along giving it a fair-go for a few weeks then forget about it after the novelty faded.

The first iteration was an utter failure, simply nothing but a duped “Playboy” Mansion, women who were paid to seduce him and become available whenever he desired– they were boring, they weren’t there for him, they were there for the paycheck and presents, for the free rent and the possibility of becoming his favorite perhaps.

It was dull.

Painfully dull, nothing different from what he was doing, only it was kept behind closely guarded doors and managed by the company that micromanaged everything else in his life.

Dull Lovers who barely pretended to care, who rolled their eyes when he wanted to talk about his interest, who looked at their phones during the good scenes of his favorite films, who signed when he wished to be held, who gave no enthusiastic response at anything but Versace and Jimmy Choo’s.

He felt the ever growing emptiness spread further like a cancerous mass.

As he sat alone sinking on his couch flipping channels in the dark and his eyes finally grew heavy for the night– his fingers stopped in some show about a man trying to balance having four wives, the scenario intrigued him… a man married to several women who seemed enamored with him despite all the drama in the background… These women on his screen weren’t like the ones provided… they weren’t his… They didn’t love him nor wanted to devote themselves to him, they were just high paid prostitutes– even the women at the Playboy Mansion he had met seemed to have a better relationship to the old creep than his own had to him– he wasn’t special or interesting to them.

It was transactional and the affection unconvincing, unlike this man’s wives who seemed to care about him, who didn’t look forward to meeting other men or keep in touch with old John’s and sold their feet pics online to just any guy.

Vought or the public would never allow him to have a dozen wives, he wasn’t even a Mormon, officially he was an Evangelical just in name not in practice so he couldn’t simply adopt the church's views nor was he interested in even more rigid rules… I mean he did enjoy a cup of coffee every once in a blue moon and he certainly had a spicy tongue.

It took a lot of trial and error and plenty of lawyers too.

But a single joke turned into this…

You had been there for quite a long time, you seen plenty of pretty faces come and go, most left because they disliked the system in place– had they simply bothered to glance the wikipedia article on Chinese harem practices before signing the dotted line their grievances would have been lessened… altho calling yourself a polygamist might not even been an applicable label– after all his rules made it difficult to do so.

You had simply been a low-level intern when Homelander first laid eyes on you all those years ago.

He watched you for a long time and you watched him with the same intensity, he was a pretty thing, he had a quirky laugh that veer into cackle territory, his hands were as soft as the rest of him and above all you could tell pretty early on that there was a hunger inside him unmatched by anything else.

No lover before had ever made you feel so wanted, he made you feel as if he was born for you, no lover ever devoured you with a single look… it was desperate.

When have you ever felt this desire before? You asked yourself the more intense this became.

You never experience the titillation and the fear that his hunger inspired in you, the way he touched and explored every inch of your skin inside that broom closet made you fear for your life, as if he would feast on you and gnaw at your bones like a dog with a fresh treat, that one spicy rendezvous after office hours quickly became a regular occurrence and he never had enough.

Neither did you.

His gentleness hid praise worthy self-control, he molded his performance after what made you feel best but you would soon learn it was performance– you were puddy in his hands as he trapped you with this pleasure.

To be yearned for was different, he wanted all your free time to be for him, to ignore all the pretty faces and nameless ass that crossed your sight and devote yourself to him, he was honest about wanting you, about wanting you to love him just as much as he could love you.

Made worse by the fact that you had no qualms with the worst of his personality your fights and arguments as unhealthy as anybody else but always over petty things, never about the nights he soaked the carpet with some miscreant chunky remains, after all you had to be a bit loopy and unhinge to look at him as if he was the only source of light in the cave that was your life.

It was a long courtship before he told you about ‘The Gardens’. At first you simply thought it was another luxury building stuck in Manhattan but behind the doorman and reception clerk was a building only inhabited by lovers.

It wasn’t easy to digest– but floor to ceiling windows, private drivers and Hermes boxes demonstrate to your ego that you might have a price… The 6 figure allowance certainly made your stomach drop as you accepted new found facts about yourself… this was not counting any extra presents– after all your job would be to stay pretty and interesting for him.

You certainly had your suspicions but you had been quite enamored with the Supe, unable to look away from those cornflower blues and the sad expression painting his face as he began to suspect your rejection, the palpable anguish he was trying so hard to contain. Accepting simply to do a few excessive sessions of retail therapy on his dime to recover from the shock, coming in thinking he will grow bored of you soon enough and you could commence the healing process afterwards.

But you never left ‘The Gardens’, the people who ran the building would refer to you as the Noble Consort with the Empress or Imperial Noble Consort reserved for whoever Homelander was dating for the papers (altho you would have given the title of Stillwell for the longest time), to your disbelief you found enjoyment in this arrangement, your were free to pursue whatever you wanted for money was now not a problem– all those hobbies you had abandoned, halted and wished to explore were now back on the table, a new career change or education now a possibility, even pursuing a lifelong passion or dream was available, as long as you kept pretty and keep his favor.

There were other rules of course… Nobody besides Homelander could be in your life. Sex-work was out of the question once somebody took residency in one of the handful of luxury condos. Not involving oneself romantically with any of the other concubines or anybody was also a major rule. He demanded a vow of secrecy as well obviously– telling anybody about the arrangement specially online or the media, and you would have a head on your front door… you would have prefered a finger, a tooth or a kidney like the others on your floor but he left the brainless severed head on yours.

You were certain that Vought kept a dystopian level of watch over your digital footprint while you no longer worked with Vought and did your thing… you heard the rumor of a shadow department whose whole job was to watch this place– it wasn’t really out of the realm of possibility after all Homelander was worth billions to them… and if not Homelander was there watching somehow.

Which is how you end up with having to call somebody to pick up and puzzle the old concubine back together.

He was The Emperor and thus you had to act like a noble, anybody caught breaking his rules would be in more than a little trouble– Homelander was quite cruel once a lover lost his fancy.

But not as cruel as the other residents when they sensed somebody trying to plant the seeds of discourse, threats to the system were ever present whenever he brought a new concubine, those who survived the longer kept the peace.

A mixture of jealousy and self-preservation feed the cruelty… after all these years you liked your comfortable life and so did the others– those with more expensive taste to your own, those whose families were partially supported by Homelander (if he was aware or not was not yours or his problem) those who loved him and didn’t wish to part, and those who needed his support to make sure even if he grew bored with them they had a back-up to their back-up, none who would risk losing it all just because some new lover wanted him all for himself– they had no grace about it and would soon realize that tribalistic nature of humans… unless somebody whispered sweetly in John’s ear and prevented the carnage.

Unsure as to why anybody would want to monopolize him as if this entire building wasn’t a red flag about how pointless that was, you discussed with the others.

He was more than an armful, he was too much even for you who obsessed so easily with him, who demanded his attention and affection but ultimately unable to match just how much he needed in return, you stopped disliking this new life because Homelander would never be satiated, because he would wear you down to a stub, because he would scare you away if you didn’t find a way to get breathing room, more for his sake than your own. You loved him, you wanted to hold tight but if he kept going you would let go of his hand mid-flight and the thought of hating him or falling out of love with him filled you with dread.

You needed him on a cellular level, you joked in the past as you talked to a neighbor, who understood you as he laughed.

It stung for a long time to live this way– You just made it look easy.

But you made it, and it earned you some perks.

You checked your agenda to make sure that time had come around, you weren’t called the Noble Consort for nothing– he would reserve you even outside your birthday week.

8.3 million people in this city and he could make sure you felt like the only one in this town.

Perpetually charming you thought as he landed inthe balcony with your favorite chocolate and flowers.

If Homelander had to explain why he kept you the longest it was how you talked to him earnestly, you treated him as if he was not just a celeb but a husband, how happy you always were too see him, how you always clung to his shoulders even before his boots touched the ground and how quickly you always dragged him inside worried he would get sick from the cold winds, even if he went weeks without seeing you in person you never let him see it, it was as if no matter how long it had pass you couldn’t care less, only the now you experienced together mattered.

He wondered if this was how sailors felt when they came back home after a lengthy tour, if it was warm like this.

No matter how long this had been going on for– your love was genuine, he even thought of you as a weekend masochist for putting up with his whims, but you took him as he was and that was something special… something worth keeping… worth protecting.

He could snuggle in your chest all he wanted, he knew your fingers would scratch his scalp without command, he would find your warmth either gifted by your words or your core.

A perfect spouse to him, he would whisper to himself when you slept or when he missed you, in this intimacy he knew he would stay with you, the only one who understood what this place was all about, who was this emperor’s favorite.

Now when it came to sex–the life of his concubine wasn’t sexless… you doubted the man actually lived in his actual penthouse all the way up in Vought Tower, he might use it to change suits or pick up his mail, for he would share somebody else’s bed every night, if he didn’t you would find out at the lobby, perks of knowing everybody in the building was that rumors traveled quickly and plans of actions would be organized in elevators… so your bed was not infrequent and during your weeks he would always sleep there.

You keep a spare pair of his boots and gloves that didn’t came with the apartment, which said a lot about how infrequently did he slept at his legal address and your longevity in this palace– what did came was a toothbrush, comb, some of his skincare products and extra-creamy milk restocked frequently more so these days.

These private weeks were both sugary and bitter, date nights and cuddling lazily on the couch as he spoke of his day and listened to yours, you spoke a lot catching up with lost time while he washed your back and you washed his hair, knowing he would leave soon enough and return to some girl back in the tower or go downstairs.

And as your week ended he would treat you to something adventurous.

You kissed him in the upper courtyard by the warm dim lights surrounded by whistling shrubs, the night was starting to grow cold, draping his cape around you for your comfort, he moaned as your lips suckled on his neck savoring the feel of your tongue as you drew lines on chin, slowly melting on your sweltering heat, your hand taking his thigh with a firm squeeze teasing him as they came close to his member, kissing until lips bruised and blood inked his tongue, you kissed until his jaw started to numb and his cock leaked with anticipation, being uphere where somebody might see always excited him, he had already baptized every bench in this courtyard but it didn’t lose his splendor just yet.

His hips buckle as your hand finally gave him much needed affection, hearing your muscles push as hard as they could against him, mewling as you chuckled with delight at his reactions, his eyes so hazy.

Trembling as your hand left him, you pulled at his belt watching him blush as he remembered that the one thing you lacked was super strength, you leaned back as he swiftly began to lower his tights, throwing his belt to the ground so the cold steel wouldn’t make you shudder.

His cock was hard, crying rivers into the cold wind until your lips kissed it better.

He made no attempt to conceal his moaning, growling as your teeth grazed the sensitive head, he was unapologetically loud, this was the one place where he forgo all his acting lessons, nor did you want him to be quiet it made you excited to hear him moan, he just sounded so needy– cute too… and tonite he was obscenely loud, animalistic even, grunting and growling as your drooled unto your chin and made his thigh slippery, as you took his cock down to the base, licking down his taint, he lifted his legs adjusting his position to follow your tongue, whining and panting as you pleasured him, aggressively pumping at his cock as you suck gently on his balls.

You look up from half-lid eyes drowning on your own pleasure, he came with ease coating your throat with his thick salty cum but just as quickly as he came he would come back up and just as hard as a minute ago– you made it into a game to see how many times you could make him cum before he begged you to let him do it inside you for that was the only way to kill his battery. Pumping his shaft with short and quick pump focusing on the mid-length as to deprive his crying tip taking sadistic delight in knowing that he wanted you to touch the tip immediately but being too far gone to asks for it clearly as he mumbled incoherently behind his breathy wanton, his hips following the rhythm of your hands and tongue.

A shaky smile crossed his lips as the consort took pity on him, you chuckled knowing you won an unspoken bet with your downstairs neighbor, pulling their hair out of the way as their head went up and down and lips grazed your fingers.

You climbed up letting your fellow concubine enjoy themselves in this debauchery.

Biting on his ears as you whispered what you wished to do with him, calling him by his name with a sweetness that tingled something scary inside him.

Homelander laughed weakly against you, his hand pulling on the other’s hair gently, he spouts his orders, throwing the cushions unto the ground you both give each other giddy looks as the man pulls you down with him with the last bit of composure he had before burying his face with your crotch, one hand kept your hips in place and the other held his other concubine hand, gasping against you as the other took him, you saw red– it was not a competition but you did not want him to only focus on the warm enveloping his cock.

All that filled the air were your choir of moans above his muffled coos and whines as you fucked his mouth, his tongue doing his best to keep up, eyes rolling back as you took fistfuls of his hair pulling harshly distracting him so much that he had begun to run of breath, as he ate everything and swallowed desperately, trying to concentrate on the feeling developing his tongue and lips and the sweet musky scent drowing him, fading with a twsited smile as you fucked him earnestly and harshly, he loved it when he was made into a bitch, he would never say it outloud of course– like many things in this building it went unspoken, but you could tell that all the old residents shared a certain quality to them.

Men and women who provided something everybody was afraid of giving to him before.

You’d seen him cling to men and women who wished to mark him, who told him that he was as much their property as they were his.

That proved their love was not superficial… It was genuine.

Or genuine enough for him.

He moaned and bucked his hips pathetically, yearning to reach the furthest parts of you, filling you, to feel his own cum foaming within you as he fucked you.

Moving you quickly, glad that this time he had thought ahead with these cushions for your knees would be bleeding and burning otherwise– it was all hazy at this point, all you knew was his name, the cold wind hardening your nipples, and the sound of his hips slapping into you as he whimpered with a mixture of desperation and pleasure, he finger fucked your companion, hands fucking his lover just as fast and hard to have the concubine running out of breath begging Homelander to not dare stop, making a mess of themselves on his fingers, coating them as their hole squelched and sucked him right back in, as the man grew pleased with the sight, your hands interlocked squeezing hard as they rode their orgasm to a happy end.

You caught a ruby glimpse reflecting in a metal bench nearby, you gulped knowing you had to think quickly.

Turning your face and arching your back as you begged him to hold you.

Coming loudly letting your knees and elbows give up, letting him push you down with his weight, always surprised how heavy those silly golden eagles are, you couldn’t believe his shoulders weren’t stiff 24/7, with a satisfied chuckle he waits for you both to snuggle with him.

The other urges him to take it into their apartment for it was getting cold and they sure didn’t want to catch a cold.

He half-begrudgingly agreed, wishing deep down to go a few more rounds outside but as he felt your goosebumps he took you both inside urgently.

Your hands never touched after that, Homelander ever so vigilant of both your movements, all you could do was hope the concubine would learn just how stringent and absurd John could be, fearful that anybody would dare hold affections to anybody but him.

You kissed his neck, nuzzling against him as he watched the sleeping concubine coldly, arguing with himself if they had meant to break the rules.

Whispering his name as he squeezed your stomach, soothing his unspoken anxiety he let go of those thoughts.

He returned your affections, easing into him as you fed off his warmth.

You whispered quietly, enjoying each other, easing his worries.

This was a peculiar life but in these quiet moments it was like any other.

In these moments it all felt perfectly normal, the world might never get it entirely and you yourself struggled with it at times but when you woke up to his kisses on your chest as he found a way to turn into the little spoon while the other sneaked to the toilet, you certainly didn’t want to change things.

Not one bit.

#homelander #homelander x reader #the boys fanfic #homelander fanfiction #personal #my fic tag #homelander x you #tempted to write a little series on these but if anybody wants to write about concubines feel free #on my behalf #might come back and re-edit this

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