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dropsnectar · 2 months ago

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Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x afab!reader

PART THREE

This is a longer part than the rest, but its all necessary dialogue so it should be fine. More fluffy and romance than smut, BUT!! Their will be smut in the next section! I know I said this will only be 4 parts, but it may actually be more like 5 or 6. Anyway, hope you like!

So. You were starting to learn that using large batches of magic back to back weren't ideal for a young witch's health. It seemed like you might have overdone it, as when you woke you found you had been asleep for TWO WHOLE DAYS. So. If you were going to do magic, it looked like you were going to have to pace yourself, or perhaps use LESS magic.

You put yourself to learning more about witchcraft. The thing was, your grandmother's books didn't really go into the basics, and as witches were so rare, information was hard to find. Of course, the internet was full of supposed witch spells, or frameworks, but it was like throwing dice. Some spells didn't work. Some spells took up WAY too much energy. Some were just… fine? But not what you needed.

Next you checked out forum sites. Maybe you could find a community through that way? But all you found were psychics and tarot readers. Nice people, but not what you needed.

Whelp. Maybe you needed to look at the issue differently. The environment used to be a beautiful, thriving area. What had changed between now and then? In order to understand a magic ecosystem, you had to understand ecosystems. So, for the rest of the week you busied yourself with ecology study. It was turning out that this project you had adopted on a whim would need a lot more time and breadth of knowledge then you originally thought.

***

When you met with Rena, under Lyith’s friendly gaze, you found that the magic you had cast hadn't waned at all. The flowers had grown beautifully and continued to give magic nectar that created the best honey. Rena was beside herself. “The elders of the hive say they haven't had honey of this quality since they were children! You are really onto something here, little one.”

Rena had now gotten in the habit of calling you little one. Sure, as a Bee-man she was slightly taller than you, but not by much. Also the constant fluttering and floating didn't help.

“You've been given permission to test your magic on our other gardens as well. As long as we are careful and continue with caution!” Rena babbled. You gave her a small smile and felt Lyiths arm on your shoulder. He laid his head on your other shoulder, leaning his fuzzy head against yours.

“Whats wrong?”

You wiggled a little. “I'm just having a hard time brainstorming how to do this. I know I said I'd help you guys, but I might not be able to use as much magic as last time. To be honest, I don't really know much about my mana and my limits…” you explained your situation. Expecting there to be disappointment, you were surprised to find none.

“I can’t help but think… How long will this last? One spell isn’t going to cut it for that long. I want to create something that will last for you guys, but that might take a while… and doing just this took all the mana I had. I want to do better. But I don’t want to hurt myself either, especially when I don’t know how this could affect my health in the long run…” The bee-men seemed to be catching on.

“Of course, little one. We wouldn't want you to harm yourself.”

Lyith also popped up, his voice almost in your ear.

“Us Bee-men also have something like mana. Our magic is not never ending. We would have fixed this situation ourselves if it was.”

Rena reached forward and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring pat. “We don't have to do anything today. We can commence whenever you'd like. Our flowers have spread out beautifully and even this is enough.”

You frowned.

“I may have to do this every spring. Or even redo it in the summer…”

“You don’t owe us anything. You are trying your best to do us a kindness. And our hive knows and sees that. We are beyond grateful to you… Its… We’ve needed…We are truly grateful.” His expression fell at the mention of his hive, his antennas drooping. Rena moved forward and held Lyith, a sad expression on her own face.

There was a pause in conversation that grew somewhat awkward.

How do I make this better? You tried to brainstorm, but only one thing came to mind.

You went over and gave the both of them a big bear hug. It was a tense one, but you tried to adjust your emotions, instead concentrating on how fond you had grown of the two. You tried to shout it as loud as you could through your brain at them.

This seemed to break the spell, as Rena started to laugh. Lyith looked at you affectionately.

“I know we haven't known each other long, but I just want to say, you can count on me. If you ever need to talk about anything let me know. I'll listen.”

Rena and Lyith hummed in response, returning your group hug with a long squeeze.

Long hugs. The favorite actions of a Bee-men.

After some quiet reassurances, the two of you decided to idle while the two foraged on the edge of the Wood. You walked with them and asked them as many questions you could think of. How old were they? Were they able to do other magics? You had thought Bee-men to be isolated. How come they knew so much about human culture?

Lyith was the one who answered you most of the time. It seemed that bee-man typically lived double the life of a human, with Rena and Lyith being about 45, and 51, Lyith being the oldest. They were in the same season of life as you though!

Bee-man could do some other magics(they didn't go much into what), but they specialized in making their magical honey, which fortified the health and wellbeing of a Bee-men.

They didn’t say it outright but it seemed like the dip in magic had affected the nutrition of their food source. They kept their own bees and shared honey, but it still wasn't enough, so they had ventured out into human society to buy fruit when it was necessary. They also did trade with neighboring beast-men, the Wolfmen being happy to share their fruit for their Bee’s wax waste. I

“What exactly do you guys do for fun though?” You asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Lyith smiled. “Late night flying is fun.”

Rena snorted. “You mean late night spying. Lyith has a habit of looking through people's windows.”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at Rena. “If they did not want to be seen they would have drawn the curtains. It's not strange, I am just curious about human life is all.”

Rena reached forward and pinched Lyiths nose. “Poor thing. So bored he must make mischief.”

You looked at Lyith with surprise. His big eyes grew in concern and he pouted at you.

“You are not going to tease me too are you? I promise, I never see anything scandalous. I'm a good little bee.” He fluttered his eyes at you.

You giggled and pushed his shoulder.

“As long as you're not spying on me I guess it's harmless.”

Lyiths expression shifted to one of his dopey smiles. It always surprised you how innocent he could look despite his size. Was it maybe…

“So… I may have read that you guys are telepathic right?”

Renas face changed into a smirk.

“Yes, and?”

“ Well, have you guys ever… used your powers on me?”

Rena snorted. Lyith gave you an unreadable expression. “We Bee-man are very particular about sharing our heads outside of our hives. But no. We haven't done anything to you if that's what you meant…”

Oh. He was pouting now.

“No! Thats not what I meant! I just… i feel so comfortable around you guys it's almost supernatural. I just. Idk. Wanted to know. Please I didn't mean anything by it!”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at you and Rena continued to seem amused. You felt helpless and got a bit upset with yourself. You did your best to calm yourself down but you were upset. You had so few friends here and you were afraid you blew it. A wave of loneliness swept through you.

Lyith was watching you the whole time, before sighing. “All will be forgiven if you give us some of those fruit tarts you made yesterday.”

You looked at him, shocked.

“I thought you said you didn't spy on me!”

“I wasn't spying, I just happened to be foraging by the window, and smelled something amazing. It was all incidental.”

“There's sugar in the crust. Won’t your tummy get upset?”

He just smiled. Rena laughed. “He named his price. For offending us, we must get fruit tarts.”

Finally feeling better, the three of you walked(they let you walk!!!) Back to your home. You served them up your tarts, when finally the questions started coming about you. Why did you move here? Do you have any siblings? What were you like as a child?

This went on until dinner time, at which point you decided to shoo your new friends away. “ I'll be back to do the flowers tomorrow. We… we will see what I can do.” You admitted. The two of them smiled at you, hugging you tight for a good three minutes. They always lingered, nuzzling your face and hair, as if they were getting a whiff of you. You could smell their own perfume and tried not to think too much. Their goodbyes always felt so intimate.

Rena decided to pepper your face in kisses before they left. Lyith just rolled his eyes at her. When they drew apart you felt empty, like some piece of you was going with them.

***

As always, Lyith picked you up that morning. This time, you made sure to bring a scarf and hat, alongside emergency snacks in your bag. Where he was taking you next was a little longer of a trip, a whole ten minutes to the usual six. That was a long time when you were hurtling through the air.

You were surprised to drop into a small crowd. There were ten Bee-men present besides Rena, who seemed to be communicating silently with them. The air was full of bee noises; humming, purring, the fluttering of wings. The air smelled amazingly fresh, floral and syrupy. It was an odd smell, but it seemed to put you at ease somehow. And maybe a bit peckish.

A Beeman a whole foot and a half taller then Rena fluttered towards you. They bowed, of which you awkwardly returned before they reached forward and took your hand gently. Lyith started,

“This is Elder Bisou. He is the eldest of our hive. He is showing you respect.”

Elder Bisou smiled at you. “Little Witch, I welcome you to our territory. My human is a bit… unused. Please receive our thanks for your efforts.” He took your hand and leaned down so that it met his temple. You could feel the rush of his magic, like your mind was a fish bowl and he was putting a gentle hand on the glass. You could feel his warmth, his deep gratitude through it.

Your back straightened and you felt water prick your eyelids. You gave him a slow nod, becoming acutely aware just how serious this whole situation actually was. Rena and Lyith had been dancing around it, but the Bee-men must be slowly starving to death. That was the only explanation for the depths of what you had felt.

“I will do my best.” Was all you could reply.

Lyith, acting as your translator, took you to each Bee-men he could and introduced you. It seemed that some of the elders, as well as some of those who had free time had come to watch the “little witch” work. Most took your hand gently, and sent you a ghost of what their emotions were. There was a sort of film around the emotions, a barrier of sorts. Whether this was on purpose so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed, or just how their telepathy worked, you couldn't tell.

You did your best to not let your nerves get to you as you dissected the sections of the field where you would be doing your experiments. You didn’t know how these particular flowers would take to your spell, so it was still best to be cautious. The bee-men looked on with interest.

You did your chants in a loud booming fashion, and channeled in as elegant a fashion as you could. Like always, the magic came, and the spell did its work. These flowers were different, like rainbow colored lavender. Rather than letting the magic gush through you, you let it gently trickle out, pacing yourself. When the deeds were done, you still felt sore, and you still held a headache in your temple, but there was no nausea, so growth!

Once you were done with your work, there was a large excited buzzing throughout the forest. There was clapping, dancing, stomping of feet, pumping of many hands, whoops from Rena and Lyith. One Bee, a worker named Aidenn held a small wooden instrument in his hands and started to play. This triggered a chorus from the Bee-men. There was a harmonizing among the crowd and they started to circle each other, laughing and dancing. A circle of flying, spinning Bee-men formed.

Rena grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto her shoulder before joining in the circle of the dance. You giggled as you spun, feeling the giddiness in the air like it was laughing gas. That same pressure filled your mind and a part of your heart started to soar. It was intimate, but not stifling and you loved feeling so close to everyone.

You lifted your hands and, feeling in the spirit, decided to hum along. At some point Rena had taken you in her arms and held you close as they continued to fly in a circle, spinning and perrying, and switching. It was similar to square dancing, where there was a pattern to it.

At one point, the tune changed and Lyith swooped down from above and grabbed you out of Rena’s arms. She snorted at him but let it happen, joining hands with another passing Bee-men. When Lyith gathered you in his arms, he cradled you as close as possible, surprising you. One hand was gripping firmly around your waist and the other crushing you to him. He landed on the ground, and the rest of the bee-men followed, causing something of a ballroom dance.

“You did wonderfully today.” He breathed in your ear, causing them to redden. You pulled yourself back a bit to see his face and he was looking at you with such pride and affection it felt like a weight crushing your chest. You moved your hands from his shoulders to reach his own hands. You were shaky, but you wanted to return his feelings somehow. His palms were soft.

This caused him to laugh, a purring sort of trill coming from his throat. You couldn’t help a silly grin form on your face.

“I’m glad you came to my garden.” Was all you could think to say.

He looked at you, with those big black eyes, then reached forward and kissed you on the lips. It was only a peck, but you could feel his joy through it.

Something complex within you, a mix of happiness, excitement, hope, all of your feelings rose up into your throat. Unable to find the words to express yourself, you took all of those big heavy emotions, wrapped them all up together and kissed him back, right there, in the middle of your makeshift dance floor.

When you pulled away Lyith looked shocked, his bottom lip hanging open. Adorable as usual.

Rena hollered from the otherside of the gathering, sending out a big whoop. There was laughter, buzzing and an echoing whoop from some of the younger bee-men. Elder Bisou made some clicking sounds, but the sides of his mouth were slightly upturned.

It occurred to you then that you were in the middle of a group of very telepathic monster people. Your cheeks grew hot in embarrassment and you pulled away from Lyith a bit. Your shoes suddenly became very interesting.

Lyith eventually turned your chin back up to face him. He held a small peaceful smile, before bumping his forehead to yours. He didn’t share his emotions but the affection was still there.

After you grew too tired to dance, you took a seat under a tree, munching on a granola bar. Another one of the Bee-men, a younger drone named Haven, made his way to sit next to you.

“I don’t know if it was mentioned, but honey production has picked up enormously since you agreed to help us. I haven’t felt this great in… well ever! Thank you little witch!”

“I’m not little, but thank you for saying so.” You were starting to get a bit lightheaded now, and not from the dancing. It was possible that some of the symptoms of mana sickness were surfacing a little late.

“You are strong! That is true! Even elder Bisou has said he hasn’t met a human or beastman with mana like yours!” Haven turned his voice down to a whisper, as if he was sharing a secret, “Your magic smells so much like flowers, really, its a huge blessing! In fact, I would eat you up if I could!” He laughed as if he had made a joke. He sighed and looked up dreamily at the sky. “Alas, I am saving myself for when we find our queen.” He wrapped his arms around himself, as if to fend off imaginary suitors.

You wrinkled your nose. “Queen? You don’t have a queen? Isn’t that super bad for bees, I mean bee-men?”

Heaven tilted his head at you, reminding you of Lyith.

“Of course. That's why we are all so small and weak.” You stared at him in shock. He put up his hands. “We are doing well though! It's been 20 years since our queen died but we are still here! Oh! There is a hive up north! Any day now, one of their queens' daughters might descend and bless us! Or.. Or we--”

“Little One! You seem like you're getting sick!” Rena Descended from above and put a hand to your forehead.

“You are far too warm! Haven, mind if I take her out of your wings?”

Heaven looked up at Rena, his face a mask of confusion. He eventually gave in though and stood up.

“I should check on Elder Bisou! He might need something!” His voice was flat, obviously fake, but he ran away- flew away with gusto.

Rena took your face into her hands, tilting your head back and forth. Your lightheadedness turned full on dizzy. Rena’s face screwed up in an annoyed expression.

“You overdid it. And after that whole speech about not knowing your limits too..” She gently put a hand on your back and picked you up princess style. You would have been embarrassed, if your brain was functioning properly. Instead your gaze fixed on Rena’s beautiful iridescent wings. The lights were so lovely and they helped ground you. Honestly, everything about Rena was lovely. Well, maybe lovely wasn’t the right word. She was rough around the edges. A tease and a know it all. But she doted on you so, it made you feel a bit overwhelmed. Your gaze shifted from her wings to her lovely nose, pretty sharp for a bee-men.

Rena started conversing with Lyith about you, pointing her jaw and humming. Huh. Rena was actually incredibly attractive. You had known that before. Maybe it was something about how dizzy everything was. The last time you had felt this way she had been kissing you, her textured tongue pushing nectar down your thoat-

“Little One”

Your mind immediately focused. She was using a demanding tone.

“Lyith will take you home. Next time, we will only do one spell at a time.” She leaned forward and placed her cool lips to the side of your mouth. Making you blush. Well your face was already heated so you would have blushed. “I will see you again soon. Rest.” And she was off.

You were in Lyith’s arms again. A place you were starting to get comfortable in. He stared at you for a moment, his lips pursed, then sighed loudly. He held your gaze for a moment.

“I do not like this habit you are forming. You will not get sick again, understand?”

You nodded at him, mind hazy. Sleepy. You were sleepy.

You didn’t register the fly home, only that the coolness felt nice. You were carried from the porch, into the living room, up the stairs, and laid on your bed. You were covered in warm, delicious blankets.

You never saw Lyith leave before you passed out. Probably because he tucked himself in right beside you, the cool air washing over both of you from the open bedroom window.

Part Four

#monster fucker #monster lover #monster #monster x reader #terat0philliac #teratophillia #bee hybrid #bee hybrids #bee hybrid × reader #bee hybrids x reader #monster romance #bee monster #monster fluff #fluff

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destieltropecollection · 7 months ago

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Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 15: Witch Magic or Curses

The Language of Wings | @tami-ryver Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,070 Main Tags/Warnings: Cursed Castiel (Supernatural), Wingfic, Angel Wings, Seraph Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Can See Castiel's Wings, Worried Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is Loved, First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Angel Courtship (Supernatural) Summary: Dean gasps. He can't see anything and there is something in the room with him and Cas. Something different. His hand aches to hold a knife, a gun, something to defend himself.

True Love Wins | @bookwithwings Rating: General Word Count: 1,179 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Secret Relationship, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, is it established when it's secret? idk, Cursed Dean Winchester, Spells & Enchantments, fairytale trope, canonverse Summary: After coming back from a witch hunt something is seriously wrong with Dean. Cas and Sam consult Rowena for help. She has an idea what might help.

La Verdad | @thisisapaige Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,432 Main Tags/Warnings: Witch Curses,Truth Spells, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary: Castiel gets hit by a witch's spell on a hunt— a curse that compels him to speak the truth. To keep his deepest secret unsaid, all he has to do is remain silent and avoid Dean. That should be easy, right?

curse and birds | @dcforts Rating: General Word Count: 1,600 Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Comedy, Love Confessions, Accidental Curse, True Love, Men of Letters Bunker, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Christmas fic Summary: Cas shows up on the third day with the french hens and the turtle doves and the partridge in tow.

Of Curses and Bee-Colored Mittens | @Destielshipper4Cas Rating: General Word Count: 3,232 Main Tags/Warnings: Witch Castiel, Strangers to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, First Kiss, Alternate Universe – Magic, Familiar Dean Summary: After Castiel gets cursed by an evil witch, all his once-healing touch does is hurt people. He has learned to live with the fact that he can never touch anyone ever again. But a tenacious alpha doesn’t get the memo that being around him is dangerous.

Conjured | @Destielshipper4Cas Rating: General Word Count: 4,260 Main Tags/Warnings: Witch Castiel, Human Dean, Strangers to Lovers, Pining, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, Alternate Universe - Magic Summary: Lonely and unable to fall asleep, witch Castiel conjures an alpha to cuddle with. Night after night from midnight until one a.m. Falling in love with his own spell is a bad idea on many levels. If only Dean didn’t seem so real…

With Magic All Around | @Destielshipper4Cas Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,500 Main Tags/Warnings: King Dean Winchester, Witch Cas, Commoner Cas, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, First Kiss, Happy Ending Summary: Castiel is King Dean’s court witch. During an inventory of all magical items in the castle, he touches an enchanted golden ball and is now carrying the Winchester heir.

imagine being loved by me | @abi-cosmos Rating: Explicit Word Count: 9,659 Main Tags/Warnings: Porn with feelings, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Awkward first times, Motels, Romantic angst, Canon divergence: season 5, Sexually Inexperienced Castiel, unclear feelings, Castiel gets cursed by a witch Summary: When Castiel gets cursed by a hunger spell, novelty dick-shaped waffles lead to everything that Dean Winchester wants. (Set around season five.)

Virginia is for Lovers | inkdr0p (AO3) Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 10,010 Main Tags/Warnings: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Original Male Character(s), Case Fic, Witches, Dean Winchester Hates Witches, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Nearly Human Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Prayer, Cursed Dean Winchester, Insomnia, Late Night Conversations, Diners, Dean Winchester and Food, Castiel Does Not Care About Gender Norms (Supernatural), Witch Sam Winchester, but not totally; he's just not afraid to admit that hunters do magic too, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel Drives the Impala (Supernatural), Castiel Wears Dean Winchester's Clothes, Castiel Gets New Clothes (Supernatural), Hunt Gone Wrong, Hurt Dean Winchester, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester, Castiel Being Castiel (Supernatural), Idiots in Love Summary: “Oh.” Castiel reaches down and plucks something long and thick and black from the folds of Dean’s shirt, then holds his open palm up to his face, fascinated. “Cas,” Slowly, gingerly, Dean pushes himself up into a seated position, thrilled to be able to finally move but aware of how stiff he is from having lain on the cold ground all night. From his new position he can see something coiling around one of Cas’ fingers. “Forget the centipede, Cas.” “It’s a millipede.” “What?” “It’s a millipede. Centipedes have a single pair of legs per body segment, while millipedes have two." On one hand it’s very Cas of him to get hung up on a bug in the middle of a hunt, but on the other with two very noticeable corpses right nearby and the sun starting its rise in the east, they don't have the time or luxury to let this play out. ---------------- In which Dean accidentally gets himself cursed while on vacation, Cas has to help him work the case while accepting that he's not quite the angel he used to be, and Sam has to explain very basic magic to a guy who really should already know this stuff.

desire (I want to turn into you) | @alulangel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,192 Main Tags/Warnings: Cursed Castiel, Love Potion/Spell, Cosmic Horniness, opposite of cosmic horror, PWP, blasphemy, Castiel’s True Form, blow job, come sharing, anal sex, top!cas/bottom!dean, stabbing to climax, set in some indeterminate time during canon don’t worry about it Summary: When Cas and the Winchesters go after a witch, they wind up in the crosshairs of a misfired spell. Luckily it hits Cas, and surely a love spell will have no effect on an angel. But Castiel has questions. Castiel has doubts. For what might be the first time, Castiel feels... And what he feels is his fascination with Dean Winchester turn into a cosmic, unending, incomprehensible HUNGER.

A Prince's Guide To Wooing A Would-Be Wife (Without The Requisite Curse, Dragon, Kidnapping, Riddles Three, Or Traditional Peril Of Any Sort) | @an-android-in-a-tutu Rating: Mature Word Count: 11,708 Main Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, John Winchester, Naomi (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Princes & Princesses, Arranged Marriage, Curses, Enemies to Lovers, Trans Castiel (Supernatural), Gay Dean Winchester, Hair Kink, Body Hair, Feminization Summary: Dean is a Good Prince, he does what Good Princes do: Rescue Damsels and slay Dragons. As well as solve riddles, preform impossible tasks with the help of animal companions, break curses, collect golden apples, outwit ogres and trolls, and complete any number of oddball tasks (usually in sets of three.) The only thing he can't seem to accomplish is the happily ever after: at the end of the day, of all the Princesses (or Ladies, or Second Cousins twice removed of a Duke, or simple farm girls with oddly specific birth marks) he rescues, none of them ever end up riding home with him on the back of his noble steed to live with him in happily wedded bliss. It was probably only a matter of time before his parents took the issue out of his hands. It's a Fool who plays their hand against Fate, but Fate doesn't seem to be dealing to Dean, and there's the line of succession to consider. Dean hardly minds, he's a dutiful son after all, and he's used to true love passing him by. As long as he and his wife-to-be treat each other with kindness, he's sure they can figure out how to get along. If only Princess Castiel would give him the time of day, he might be able to convince her of that too.

The Hunter's Oath | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 19,895 Main Tags/Warnings: Fantasy AU, Celestial Castiel, Slow Build, Cabin Fic, Isolation, Castiel and Dean Have a Profound Bond, Angst Summary: Tasked with the important tradition of fulfilling an Oath to a celestial being, Dean is feeling the weight of loneliness more and more, after years of isolation on the mountain. Until one night, he is gifted a surprise: the god himself shows up with the desire to explore their bond for a time. Dean goes along with it, having no choice, and prays that nobody notices he might have failed to keep the mountain undisturbed. When he learns more about his new companion and the truth behind the legend, however, Dean finds himself picturing a different kind of life. One that isn’t as solitary. And perhaps, even more peaceful than anticipated.

It's all very complex | @artichokegarden Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20,065 Main Tags/Warnings: First Time, Porn Watching, Masturbation, Castiel Has a Sexual Awakening, Sex Pollen, Fuck Or Die, Dubious Consent, Hand Feeding, Spanking, Roleplaying, The Pizza Man, Dean Winchester Wears a Cowboy Hat, Doctor Kink, Sex Toys, Angelic Possession, Angelic Grace Sex, Sex in/on the Impala, Porn with Feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Humor Summary: “You don’t have to turn it off,” said Cas. “Humans get unnecessarily embarrassed about sex.” “Yeah well. Blame the bible. Angels have been known to get pretty judgy about it all.” Dean twirled the remote control distractedly. A thought seemed to strike him. He looked at Cas curiously. “Have you ever – I mean after April and all – did you ever … go on a journey of self discovery?” Cas stared at him. “Tamed the snake? Spanked the monkey? Made the beast with one back?” Cas looked at him. Dean made a small furtive gesture with his hand. Realization dawned. “No, Dean. That’s not something I ever felt the need to do.” “Right. Yeah." Dean turned away. "Well, angels are missing out.” After walking in on Dean's private time, Cas decides to do a little research and experimentation of his own and gets magically trapped in a book about sexual fantasies. And if that means Dean has to go in after him, well what are buddies for, right?

The Silence of Souls | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Mature Word Count: 33,685 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent, Season 13, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Godstiel, Dean Bears the Mark of Cain, Team Free Will 2.0, Trauma, Angst, Mentioned Past AU Rowena/Sam Summary: After receiving an unexpected phone call from Patrick, a witch who Sam and Dean encountered years ago, Team Free Will 2.0 leave Dodge City behind and rush to meet him in Wichita. The reason: He claims to know a way that could help Mary cross back to their universe. His demands are reasonable and the spell is simple, but Patrick warns them that the spell is not without risks. After all, the universe always has a way of balancing itself out. Not thrilled at the idea of potentially releasing something bad into the world, they nevertheless think that Mary’s safety is worth the risk. So, the original Team Free Will cast the spell, with Jack by their side, ready to assist them against any surging danger. Unfortunately, what is unleashed upon them is far more troubling than anything they had anticipated. It’s the spell-casters’ darkest versions of themselves. Namely, Godstiel, the Boy King of Hell and Deanmon, bearer of the mark of Cain. And all three of them are determined to make themselves very comfortable in their new home.

Strawberry Moon | @casblackfeathers Rating: Explicit Word Count: 115,403 Main Tags/Warnings: bottom!dean, bottom!castiel, reunion, slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff, angst with a happy ending, familiar!dean, witch!castiel, hurt!dean, hurt!castiel, protective!dean, protective!castiel, jealous!castiel, john winchester being an asshole, soft!dean, soft!castiel, neighbors Summary: As a child, Castiel used to fall asleep with his mother telling him bedtime stories of the prophecy she had foreseen for him — how the Strawberry Moon would one day reveal the familiar he was destined to be with. However, it’s been twelve years since the heart-wrenching day Castiel last saw the one he hoped was meant for him, and at twenty-eight, with his magic quickly dwindling, he knows better than to keep believing in such foolish dreams. Castiel's resolve falters with the return of his long-ago teenage crush, Dean. The familiar’s evergreen eyes and rainbow aura are still as captivating, but his past is shrouded in mystery, one that could hold the answer to what drove them apart all those years ago. Maybe the peculiar tabby cat who seems to have taken a liking to Castiel is what it takes to make Castiel believe in the moon with shades of pink again.

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2024 #destiel #fanfic #supernatural #witch magic #curses

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thedvilsinthedetails · 10 months ago

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Rosekiller band au microfic!!!

hey guys, I wrote the first microfic in the lil series I’m doing, you can find the original idea for it here

ik I’d said I’d wait but I’m impatient hahaha

(some of the ppl that asked to be tagged if i ever wrote it: @always-reading @blu3stars @chaoticgaywitch @1284646imjusthere @depressedtheatrekiddo @idk-what-to-put-here-123)

anyway just wrote this pretty quickly so it might have some mistakes n stuff sorry abt that I don’t do grammar or punctuation anyway here you go, enjoy:

(EDIT: link to part 2)

••• Pink lipstick stains, cigarette butts

I lie in bed, I hate my guts

A day in the dark

A muddled afternoon, yeah

Barty pressed his cheek close to Evan as they sang into the same microphone. He could feel the buzz of the music through the vibration of the stage below him.

Oh baby darling how I long

To become your suicide blonde

He ran a hand through Evan’s platinum curls as he sung the line. Evan leaned into it, eyes meeting Barty’s, grinning as he sung.

To lie beside my Romeo

Oh what a wicked way to go

Evan’s fingers moved deftly on the guitar, he lifted a hand, twirled the pick in his hand before resuming immediately, he didn’t take his eyes off Barty the entire song.

•••

“Ah fucking hell look at the comments Bee.”

Evan was sat at the base of the sofa, scrolling through the comments on a video of their performance last night. He held the phone up to Barty on the sofa, who squinted before taking it and reading it out to the room.

“Skittlefiend57 says ‘omg Blarty and Evan! I’m so gone 4 them u guys’”

“Blarty?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve been getting my name wrong all these years guys. Wow that’s a crazy thing to discover at 23.”

“Bad spelling aside, there’s way more. And it’s not all good stuff.”

Evan said and Barty looked back down at the comments.

“Barty and Evan are queerbaiting, they act so gay but they’re not dating. It’s all clearly faked to get attention. Fucking pathetic. Why thank you peenisonapizza. Glad to see you know us personally and can therefore speak on our behalf.”

“Don’t know why they’re obsessed with accusing a band with two trans guys of queer baiting.”

Evan pinched his furrowed brow and shook his head in disbelief.

“They don’t even care about the fucking music, just us and whether we’re dating or not.”

Barty laid down on the sofa, dropping one arm around Evan and resting his chin on Evan’s shoulder.

“Hey cheer up Rosie. They care about the music. There’s a few assholes but that’s a given. If they weren’t talking about us acting gay they’d be talking about whether my tattoos are real or fake.”

“Or some conspiracy theory that Reggie’s not actually lactose intolerant.”

Pandora chipped in.

“I’m not lactose intolerant!”

Regulus replied indignantly.

“Is that you talking or your obsession with chocolate?”

Dorcas rolled her eyes as she spoke. Regulus avoided her gaze as he mumbled out a half hearted response.

“Remus got me hooked on Tony’s chocolonely.”

While the rest of the group squabbled Evan leaned his head back against Barty’s shoulder, he pulled out his phone.

***

Evan.Rosier✔️

Hey everyone, I’ve noticed there’s a lot of speculation about me and @Barty.Grouch.JR and I wanted to say that it’s none of your business, you can think what you like but please don’t ask us or spam comment sections with theories. As always thank u so much for listening to our music, the skittles luv u x

***

Evan breathed in and passed the phone to Barty.

“You think this is good?”

Barty read it over and nodded.

“You’ve been really nice about it too.”

Evan huffed out a laugh.

“I was normal about, not my fault you would have said something like-“

“Roses are red, violets are blue, you are a cunt and I hate you @peenisonapizza.”

Barty took a small bow, flourishing his hand dramatically. Evan turned around and flicked him in the leg, which only succeeded in making him laugh.

“Ok I’ve posted it.”

Evan clicked post and watched as the ‘likes’ number quickly began to climb.

“Now I’m just not gonna read the comments on that post.”

Evan huffed out a laugh and Barty patted his shoulder.

“Good on you Rosie. Now who wants to watch a movie?”

Evan clambered onto the sofa next to Barty who leaned against him immediately, head resting on his shoulder.

“Rosie.”

Barty whispered.

“Yeah Bee?”

“Give me your phone. Look we both know it will bother you all evening not reading those comments if you have your phone on you. Just- out of sight out of mind, I’ll give it back to you once the movie is over but you deserve to have an evening off.”

Barty’s eyes were wide, expression genuine as he spoke. Evan hesitated then reached in his pocket for his phone.

“Don’t spam it with photos alright?”

A smirk spread on Barty’s face quickly, eyes sparkling.

“I make no promises Ev.”

Evan rolled his eyes but handed the phone over.

The movie was something Pandora had picked, something from the late 80s, a strange mix of fantasy, reality and meta theatre that Evan actually didn’t hate.

Still he drifted to sleep at some point watching it, the stress of the day had clearly gotten to him and something about the way the top of Barty’s head made for a great pillow probably didn’t help.

Either way he woke up to the feeling of Barty shaking him.

“Come on sleeping beauty, let’s get you to a real bed. Here’s your phone back.”

Evan rubbed his eyes and got up, stumbling to his room as thanked Barty in a half asleep murmur.

He got to his room and turned on his phone, wincing at the glaring brightness, turning it down quickly. He opened his photos app, just as he’d suspected his camera roll was filled with new photos.

He began to scroll through them. There was one of his friends, all waving at the camera. A zoomed in shot of Inigo Montoya‘s face on the TV screen from a funny angle. Himself, looking dumb, sleeping with his mouth slightly open. He scrolled to the next picture and stopped. Barty with that cheeky grin of his, curled up against Evan, flipping off the camera. Eyes twinkling in that way that always made Evan feel a little warmer, a little brighter. He fell asleep again dreaming of a body pressed against his in a hug, the hum of a movie no longer playing, soft hair tickling his face and mischief painted in big brown eyes.

For info about the position they’re sat in (it’s clear in my mind but I’m not sure how clear it is in the description), the song that they are playing and the movie they watch, look below the read more:

Position they are in before Evan gets on the sofa, red is Evan, green is Barty - yes Barty is uncomfortable, yes he would sit like that anyway bc Barty will do fucking contortion to be able to hug Evan argue with a wall

Don’t question the drawing skills, I can’t draw and did it in a moving vehicle

the song is EVOL by MARINA

the movie is the princess bride suggested by the lovely @lulublack90 who u shld defo check out bc she’s rlly amazing at writing

(Oh also Evan and Reggie are both trans in this)

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animelovelover123 · 7 months ago

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V's Yandere Alphabet v2.0

Synopsis: An updated and improved version of my original with more content. For those who have read the original, the big changes can be seen in entries L, P, Q, V, X, and Y.

Author's Note: I wrote the original during a troubling time and it resulted in the project taking 6 months and me hatting it by the end. However, after being encouraged by someone asking me if I would write for the other guys and my completionist side being bugged by how the original alphabet was not complete, I went back in and felt more motivated. I actually kind of want to write for the other guys now! Still no promises though.

The yandere alphabet I am using is an edited version of one made by no gender bee on tumblr. I added missing letters, changed some of the letters/descriptions, and altered some of the grammar (like using Canadian spelling).

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction for personal entertainment. If you are reading this, please understand that drawing/writing/reading/imagining things of this nature does NOT equate to desiring or supporting real-world assault.

Abuse = Could they ever hurt you physically or mentally? What would be the reason?

Physically? No. Mentally, kind of. He would not do it with the intent of causing harm, but some of V’s mental manipulation can hurt. He’ll pull at your heartstrings, saddle you with guilt, and talk in circles to get you to comply with his wishes all while using flowery language to mask the manipulative web he is weaving.

A big one, and the most common form of mental strain he gives you, is when he is desperate for attention and at the end of his rope. He will plead for it, reminding you that neither of you knows how long he has left to live and that he only wants to spend it with you. He does this to show you how much you mean to him, but he is also aware that he is inciting guilt in you. He does not realize how deeply and long it can affect you though until you tell/show him.

Both = You are a Yandere too, what’s their reaction?

V is intrigued and finds it amusing at first. His obsessive tendencies take longer to form, and he also does not believe he will live long so he sees your invasive and manipulative actions as entertaining with no fear of long-term repercussions. Even if you think you are being sneaky, he sees everything you are doing and he enjoys watching your reactions as he either plays along with your schemes or effortlessly evades them.

But once he finds himself falling for you in return, he gets rather depressed. He sees how desperately you want him, yet he knows, no matter how much he wants you as well, that all of your attempts to show your love will be in vain. He’ll try to pull away from you, but the more you chase, the more he wants you.

Then he finds out a way to live longer and his restraints are finally broken. You and he revel in your shared obsession, happily lavishing each other with love and attention. He sees your quirks and views them as romantic gestures. He finds out you have been stealing his things? How it warms his heart to know you want him close at all times even when home alone. Why don’t we move in together darling to save you the trouble? You’ve cancelled his plans with others behind his back? Well, why didn’t you tell him you wanted a night alone? He would love nothing more. You’ve killed a supposed love rival? Snuffing out another's life just because they threatened to take his love, though not necessary as you already have his heart, is such a beautiful display of adoration that he just has to give you a reward~

Crazy = How easy do they enter crazy mode? How do they act when they are in it?

It takes a lot for this man to snap. He is the essence of calm and collected, able to keep his composure in circumstances where most would panic and/or become angry. You could rage at him before walking out the door claiming you will never return, and though he will put up a bit of a fight, he knows deep down that you are just lashing out. After you have time to calm down you will be back in his arms soon enough. Whether by your own means or his, that was yet to be seen. This man could be in the middle of getting arrested and he would comply because he knows that this is not the end. He could easily escape prison and find his way back to you. The only true end is death, and that is what will cause him to snap.

Not his own death per se as that mental break will be directed and contained to himself. If his plan for extended life starts failing, he will fight tooth and nail to survive while rushing through the stages of grief. The most this will affect you is that he will disappear for a while as he tries to find a solution before returning when he realizes there is no hope for him and begs you to stay with him until his last breath.

The true snapping point would be a result of your life almost being lost, particularly if you try to take your own. Knowing or, worse, catching you trying to end your life flips a switch in him. He already had a lot of stress from trying to preserve his own life, but when he realizes that he could lose the primary reason he fought so hard to live all of that effort, panic, and stress gets funneled into caring for you. Now that he perceives a proverbial ticking clock for both of your lives, he will no longer allow a single second to go by without you. He will lock you up in his home and become your caretaker, tying you up so you can’t hurt yourself and taking care of all of your needs himself like feeding you and bathing you. You are his everything, and he will not let a second of both of your possibly short lives not be spent together. (see Kidnapped)

Difference = When can you notice a difference in behaviour in them? What are the first signs that their love for you is unhealthy?

At first V’s yandere tendencies were subdued and easily hidden. For the first couple months of knowing you he was under the belief that he was not long for this world. His body was actively deteriorating and soon he would have to return to Vergil.

But then he found a way that he could continue living as his own person. Maybe through killing and absorbing Urizen’s life force rather than merging with it or by somehow stealing it from others. Either way, there was a chance for him to survive and pursue a relationship with you. That is when he changed and that is when you start noticing his obsession with you.

He won't totally indulge in his attraction to you until he has proof that this lead is viable, but he will suddenly become more affectionate. Where he once kept any compliments and flirtatious remarks shrouded in flowery language so that you could not quite tell if he meant it that way became more direct and regular. The few feet he always put between you two was shorted as much as you would allow.

When he does gain evidence that his plan for a longer life is working, all restraints are off. He immediately goes to you and confesses his love. He may even tell you right then his true origins, why they resulted in him being distant at first, and how now that he has a long life ahead of him he is excited to spend it with you.

Enjoy = Do they enjoy what they’re doing to you, your life and the people around you? Do they show it?

V does worry about how some of his actions affect you. He is a bit of a philosopher type, often getting lost in thoughts or conversations about the deeper meanings and effects things have on people and the world as a whole. He is also introspective so he will occasionally worry himself over what he is doing. This line of thought doesn’t only trigger when you show hints of discomfort or hesitation. You could be perfectly happy, but he is privy to the manipulation and trickery of his that you are falling for. He considers and speculates on how his actions could warp your mind in the long run. And when he pictures the worst-case scenario, he might just guilt himself into admitting to, and apologizing for, a recent misconception he gave you.

He did not say those things with malicious intent, he just wanted to protect you from the cruel world and keep you loving him.

Force = What, if any, kinds of things will they force on you? Isolating from friends and family? Going on dates? Physical affection and/or sexual acts?

If you are a demon, to any extent, V will force you into a contract with him, assuming he is unsuccessful in his initial attempt at convincing you to join willingly. Depending on your battle prowess he will even call you to (relatively easy) fights along with his other familiars. Seeing you in battle is just as beautiful as seeing you dance to him so he will gladly do it as long as the risk of permanent harm is practically nonexistent. No matter how skilled you are in combat though, your primary duty as one of his demons is as a companion. With you being bound to him he can call you to him whenever he wishes to be with you, which is most of the time. He’ll try to offer you space and as much free will as he can, but the more obsessed he becomes the more he will abuse this power over you. One thing to note though is that he will not force you into romantic or sexual acts, even if he technically could through your contract. No matter how much he desired you, he would never hurt you in that way.

Alternatively, say you were a human. He would force you, again assuming you don’t fall for his flowery words, to take on a demon familiar. Not just any demon though. Specifically, he wants you to bond with one of his familiars. If you want more than that that is your prerogative, the more safety you have and empowerment you feel is only a boon, but being partially bonded to one of his familiars is his requirement. He tells you that he wants to keep you safe by giving you access to one, or more, of his demons for protection, and this is true. Though V is their primary master, V will willingly put himself at a disadvantage in battle by allowing you to call one of his familiars for protection. And if you don’t call them V will send them to you. He also advertises the practical benefits of having creatures at your beck and call. One aspect that he does not fully disclose though is how being bonded to a demon under his command also acts as a tracking device for when you try to run. (See Hide)

Gross = What is something they think is really romantic/sweet but is actually horrifying?

He writes letters and notes to you using his blood as ink. Sometimes it is just his signature coloured burgundy, and other times you find whole notes or poems scrawled in thin, inconsistently faded cursive which he delivers to your home or work with a bandaged arm.

He already puts his heart and soul into these letters. To him, offering part of his body with them shows you his complete devotion.

Hide = How easy is it to hide from them?

Depends on if he has bound you to one of his familiars yet.

First, let's assume he hasn't. Then, honestly, it’s pretty easy as he is but one man with not a lot of connections. He can send out his familiars to scan the area for you, but they can not go too far from V. That is only if he works alone though because the few connections he does have are with people who hunt down living creatures as their profession. Sure, hunting a demon is not quite the same as hunting a person down and his friends will initially question why you would run off, but V just has to string together a tail of how you are being influenced by a denizen of hell and that they must find you before it is too late. Sure enough, he will convince the morally just crew of demon hunters to find his love and now half a dozen people are calling in favours and travelling the country looking for you. And when they do find you, even if you try to tell them that you ran away from V willingly, V’s story has already cemented itself in their brains so they will drag you back anyway. A caveat to this plan is that the crew will get more and more suspicious if you run away multiple times and V keeps asking them for their help.

One of the benefits of binding you to one of his demons is that he won't have to risk growing doubt within his friends. With you bound to one of his demons (see Force), no matter where in the world you run V can track your location by getting his familiar to appear around you, scan the area to gather information, and relay it to him. And when he is close enough, the familiar can just pin you down and call out like a siren so V can easily find you.

Improve = Will they be willing to recover from this psychotic state for their lover?

Working off of E for Enjoy, V can find the conviction to be better for you. The problem is that he does not really know how to be better. He has only existed as his own entity for a relatively short time and has no experience with having a healthy relationship. He has only ever had you and the, sometimes maddening, urges to be with you. But because of his overwhelming love for you and the fear that his actions risk harming you, he will work towards being better.

He has to look to healthier relationships, like Nero and Kyrie’s and what little memories of Sparda and Eva’s he retains from Vergil, to understand what they look like and how he himself is failing. And if he can’t make the headway he wishes, being unable to stop himself from telling you subtle lies and trying to monopolize your attention, he will talk to someone about his feelings and urges. He understands that he does not yet really understand how to be human and is not above asking for aid in learning, for his own well-being yes, but mostly for yours.

Justification = Why are they acting like this? When and how did it start?

Upon being created, V knew that he did not have long to live. Soon he would join with Urizen and become Vergil once more. When he first started to fall for you, he knew it would not last due to his minuscule lifespan so would not pursue a romantic relationship. He could not, however, stay away from you. You were like a work of art, so utterly perfect that it was a miracle you even existed in such a cold and cruel world. He tried to accept the brief moments of connection you shared as enough to have him return to Vergil without regrets, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

His body was failing though, crumbling away. Perhaps when he becomes whole again Vergil will be able to be with you. But that would not be the same for you or V, and he knew that.

And then, he found a way to continue living as his own person (See Difference). Now he had a chance to have a life with you. But always lurking in the back of his mind is the fear that this means of sustaining his body and life will fail. He does not know when he will disappear or how quickly it could take him. This is why he needs to always be with you. He doesn’t know how much time he has left and he wants to spend as much of it with you as he can. You understand, don’t you darling?

Kidnap = Are they willing to kidnap you? If so, how will they do it? For how long will they keep you and where?

He will kidnap you if you make the drastic decision to try to end your own life (see Crazy). He has given you the freedom to do what you want, far more than most yanderes would, despite the dangers in the world because he trusted you and himself to keep you safe. But now that even you are a danger to yourself, that shattered any trust V had.

When he finds out what you were trying to do, whether it be through catching you in the act or finding out in the aftermath of a failed attempt, he will bring you to his home. He will tell you, and anyone else privy to your attempt, that he wanted to give you a safe place where you can be monitored, rest, and offer an ear to which you can discuss your feelings and thoughts without judgment. And with him being your partner, if other people knew of your attempt, they would trust him to watch over you and stop you from trying this again. And that was exactly what he would do.

So you spend the night with V in his home where he refuses to leave your side for more than a minute at a time. It was understandable though, right? He was just shaken from what you tried to do. But when you woke up you found your wrists belted together, as were your ankles, and were chained to the bed’s headboard and one of the bed’s end legs respectively.

“My love, you are awake.” V greets as he enters the room, a bowl of oatmeal in his hand. “How wonderful it is to see your beautiful eyes finally open.” You can ask him what is going on, but no matter if you question him in fear, anger, or confusion, he will smile sympathetically as he helps you sit up. “I know this may be a bit frightening my dear, but this is all for your safety. You have somehow come to the heartbreaking and erroneous belief that you should not live and have become a danger to yourself because of it. But worry not, for I love you unconditionally and will care for you in your stead. Now, open up~” He coos as he holds out a spoonful of oatmeal.

V keeps you bound for as long as it takes for him to trust you not to attack him. Still, whenever he leaves the house he chains you to the bed to make sure you don’t try anything. Soon enough he stops going out, instead spending every waking moment coddling you. He feeds you by hand, dresses you, bathes you, and loves you through any bout of emotions, be they positive or negative. You don’t get to step foot outside until after you are knocked out by drugs and discreetly transferred to a new home out in some forest. Once there he will be willing to take you on walks, if you can prove you can behave. Even if you do try to escape though, the forest is enchanted so any human without a demon guide will be lost to endlessly loop through the same areas.

After years of living like this and proving that you don’t intend to leave him or harm yourself, you may just be lucky enough to find out how V was able to keep you locked up and disappear without anyone coming to look for you. You see, your friends and family were devastated when they heard from V that you had killed yourself by running off into a demon nest and letting yourself be eaten. And then it was unfortunate but unsurprising when V, now without the love of his life, spiraled into depression, became a recluse, moved away from the city where he and his love spent their time together, and soon after joined you in the afterlife.

“What a tragic tale, isn’t it dear?” He asks you with a proud smile on his face as he feeds you your lunch.

Lonely = They are feeling lonely but you are busy with something else, what will they do?

V is a patient man. If you are busy with an activity or responsibility, he will wait patiently for you to finish. He has his limits though (See Non-Stop). Also, depending on how urgently the task must be done or the rules regarding it, V would like to get involved.

“What are you doing my songbird? Watching something? May I join you?” “What is that craft you are making? How fascinating… Would you do me the honour of teaching me how to do it?” “What are you so furiously researching love? I would so dearly like to hear all about it, and perhaps I can help you search.”

V wants to learn everything he can about you and be involved with your interests and hobbies. And even if you are doing something that he can not assist in, such as writing a paper for school or work, then he will still insert himself by delivering to you snacks, drinks, messages, or simply his silky voice reading out his poetry to calm you and act as white noise while you focus. As long as it does not harm you or put you in danger, then V wants to support you and uplift you in any way he can.

Moving On = If you die or escape, will they be able to move on? How easy will it be for them?

You are his light, his world, and the number one reason that he fought to stay alive. If you were to leave him, he would be devastated. With you gone so is his will to live, and so he will follow you into the beyond. However, one deciding factor for how he will come to his end is how you met yours. If it was some unforeseen tragedy then he would chase after you into the next world immediately. But if your death was in any way his doing, he would drag out his death. Whether it be through starvation or letting his body deteriorate, whichever was more painful and a fitter punishment for the sins he has committed.

Alternatively, if you were to escape and he could not find you, his will would slowly drain. He would spend more time and energy looking for you and despairing over not being able to find you, he would neglect what he needs to do to stay alive. Slowly his failing body would wither away or, if the option is still available, he may just make a last-ditch effort to become whole again. He knows that death would be an easier option than reforming, but his lingering feelings may unconsciously drive Vergil to keep looking for you and you wouldn’t hide from Vergil, right? Knowing you were at least alive would give V’s broken heart and soul some levity while it rotted away somewhere inside Vergil.

Non-Stop = How clingy will they be when you’re in a relationship? How possessive are they? And how much free space do they give you?

V will give you a great deal more space than most yandere’s. He is fine with you spending time with others, whether he is present or not. He will even allow you to go on multiple-day-long trips, like road trips or vacations, with others. Seeing you happy and hearing you excitedly recount your outings was a joy in it of itself for him. Hearing you talk with exuberance and seeing your radiant smile as you describe the event you attended, the activity you did, and the conversations you had was just enough to make missing you worth it. It also helps that he is an introvert so is more than okay with spending some time for himself.

There is a limit to this though. If you have a job or attend school then he can get by with having you in the morning and evening. He will encourage you and praise you for your hard work before and after each day while enjoying having you all to himself. But if, on top of this, you are going out with friends two or three days a week then he’ll get antsy. He won’t get in the way, but he will get a bit needy and clingy, doing things like wanting to walk you to and from places just to spend more time with you and inviting you on more dates and activities to offset how much you go out with others.

But if others try to take up more of your time than that, V will become a lot more proactive. Suddenly you start ‘forgetting’ your phone in the other room all the time, meaning you miss calls and texts. Your calendar and alarms start messing up more, giving you incorrect times and dates causing you to miss events. V seemingly becomes more worried about your well-being. Do you have a bit of a cough? Feeling warmer than usual? A bit of a headache? Well, then it is best if you stay home. Even if it seems small now, exserting yourself by going out could just make things worse. Besides, the weather report said it might rain. So just rest at home today, V will be there to care for you.

Other = Someone else speaks to or flirts with you, how will they react?

V is usually very confident and trusting of you to not betray him so does not mind when others speak to you. He doesn’t blame the person either because you are a truly fascinating person that V can’t get enough of, so others wanting to get to know you is only logical. Other’s flirting with you is usually a similar story, as he trusted you implicitly. But that does not mean he is always complicit. If you or the person give him a reason to worry, such as you seemingly reciprocating that flirtation or the person overstepping boundaries, then V will act.

It won’t be a full-on assault, physically or verbally, it will be a subtle, insidious poison that he seeps into the bothersome person. Through his words he will gracefully belittle and insult the person while showcasing his superior knowledge and sharp wit. Most of his comments don’t even immodestly register as insults, instead, they will weigh the person down bit by bit until their confidence is but dust in the wind and they realize that they have no chance in besting V in his control over your heart.

Persistent = You have rejected/ignored their first attempts at gaining your attention. How many more times will they try and how quickly will their actions ramp up in intensity?

Before discovering a means of sustaining himself, he will see your rejection or obliviousness to his signs of affection as signs and reminders to not pursue you as it will only end in heartbreak. However, if, after proving to himself that he can indeed survive his once-set expiration date and he confesses to you (See Difference), you somehow misunderstand his confession, perhaps as some kind of bout of manic joy from being able to extend his life, then he will take time to calm down so you know he is being serious and tell you honestly and blatantly. He has already waited for so long, suppressing the calling of his heart and soul, and he will not waste another moment of his life not cherishing and worshiping you as you so deserve.

Questioned = How do they react if someone catches on to their odd behaviour and questions them?

V is calm, composed, levelheaded, and a master at manipulation and the ways of the English language. If someone starts questioning his actions then he can easily lead, twist, loop, and end the conversation like a conductor to an orchestra with the other speaker left satisfied and a bit confused on the topic and point of the conversation.

Risk = How risky will they be with getting rid of rivals?

V has no intention of killing anyone. He loves you and, though you may not see it now, he knows you love him too. But if he really feels the need to dispose of someone, he has to be careful. Not so much because he fears the police or the friends and family of the victim. They could easily be tricked and manipulated into cooperating. It was his own family and friends that posed a problem. Dante, Nero, Kyrie, they would never understand. They don’t understand how deep his love is for you. If they found out he killed someone to protect his relationship with you, they would try to intervene or, worst of all, try to get you away from him. V can’t risk that.

So he carefully plans out his assassination. He can’t use his familiars because there is a chance that as soon as the police/family realize the murder was done by a demon they may call Lady or Dante’s businesses for help and they can spot Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare’s work easily. And a physical altercation, even with the aid of weapons, would cause too much of a scene. So instead, V will kill with discreet methods, such as poison, or a disposable method, such as forming a contract with a demon, sending them out on their elimination mission, and then killing the new demon familiar so it could not be traced back to V.

Sweet = Even when they’re Yandere they can be sweet. What’s their sweet Yandere side?

You are his world, his everything, and he will tell you that often. Every day he tells you and shows you how much he appreciates you and all you do, for him and others. Being able to wake up beside you, spend time with you, and hold you at night is a blessing that he will always cherish, no matter how long you are together.

Type = What type of Yandere are they?

Going off of the Yandere Fandom Wiki’s list, V would mostly be a Manipulative Yandere (Focuses on working a series of situations to prevent losing their love.) with a bit of a Submissive Yandere (Only in love with one specific person and will carry out any task asked of them.).

V has a way with words and with his ability to stay calm and collected no matter the intricate lies he is weaving, he will subtly manipulate you into things like spending more time with him and fending off anyone who seriously threatens your relationship (See Other). He won’t just have you wrapped around his finger, as he will also make others question themselves or change their mind through his poetic, complex, cryptic wording. This can range from telling your family and friends that they should not make you go to some even, claiming things like how tired and stressed you are when in reality he just wants more time alone with you, to even beneficial things like convincing your teachers or boss to treat you better because you are such an amazing student/worker.

There is also little he wouldn’t do for you. He will of course do small things if you ask like taking you to and from appointments no matter the ungodly hour it is happening and taking you on dates to all the places you are interested in. But he will do so much more if only you ask it of him. For example, if you come to him for help, telling him about some person or group that is hurting you somehow, either directly or through association, and ask him to get rid of them, he will.

Unsure = How much trust do they have in you? What happens if you break it?

V trusts you a great deal, more than most yandere. Even when you make small mistakes he will quickly forgive you and assure you that he understands that you are doing your best and don’t truly mean any harm. If you do something drastic though, that is different. There is what will happen if you try to hurt yourself (See Kidnapping), but if you do something like cheat on him he will be devastated. He will blame himself for the most part, assuming he has failed to provide you with the love and affection you desire and is determined to be better. He will follow you without being too pushy, not quite a stalker but he will reappear in your life every couple of weeks to try to win your heart back. And between each meeting, he would work on improving himself in any way he thinks he is failing you, from physical to social to financial. At times he may even consider leaving you be, letting you go free, but he can’t help but be drawn to you. In the end, he would rather give up on life rather than give up on you.

Vexation = What is the one thing that you could do to piss them off or worry them the most?

V does not really get angry, being levelheaded enough to stay calm and give you and himself some space if he is getting frustrated. As for worrying him, the thing that will unsettle and worry him the most is if you suddenly, without plausible reason, start claiming that you love him and saying overly sweet things. If you were to say ‘I love you’ without complete sincerity he would see it as the complete opposite. You must be upset and/or unhappy in some way. Though he does not want to pry, if you keep forcing words of affection out it will eat away at him until he pleads for you to stop and instead tell him what it is that is driving you to hurt him like this.

Welcome = Let’s say they’re Yandere for you but you’ve not had your first meeting. How do they initiate it?

If you two have not officially met but you have caught V’s eye, he will avoid approaching you due to the belief that he will return to Vergil soon. He does not wish to hurt you by charming you and then disappearing, though that does have a romantic air to it. So perhaps he will allow himself to be seen once or twice if the situation requires. For example, if you are attacked by demons he will jump in to save you, maybe take a moment to let his mysterious and alluring aura seep in before disappearing like a masked hero, never truly known but leaving a sense of mysticism. At least this way, when the being known as V does disappear from this world, he will live on in you to a small extent.

If/when he knows that he can prolong his life, he will search for you right away. He’ll want to keep up his dark, mysterious, romantic aura as much as possible to make a good impression. This includes not giving you all the answers right away, slipping into the shadows and reappearing for the first few meets, and not letting you meet the blabbermouth Griffon or the horrific Nightmare, at least not at first. Shadow you may meet because he trusts her to not ruin the moment and may even add to his allure as he has a powerful jungle cat at his whim.

He has read countless poems and stories of romance, and he will use that to his advantage to make your introduction to him as perfect as possible.

Xeric = What is an innocuous thing you do that hits a nerve in their twisted mind and really turns them on?

Whether it is done casually during a time when you are relaxing and holding each other or if he is in the middle of something and your wandering mind leads you to do it, having you lightly trace the patterns of his tattoos sets his body and heart on fire faster then he is able to ask you why you are doing it. Having your fingers delicately glide along his skin has him twisting, arching, and bending into your touch, trembling slightly as soft gasps that sometimes sound more like moans, slip from his lips.

Yearning = They want you but you are already with someone else. How will they win you over/steal you from your current partner?

V will not even try. He is already hesitant to get close to you with his mission of becoming Vergil again. You being in a happy relationship with another offers him a melancholy peace as he knows that once he is gone you will be taken care of. In this circumstance, he will not even bother looking for a way to extend his life and simply complete the task he was created to do.

Zealot = If everything fails, will they be able to kill their partner? For the most part, no. Even if you fight, run, reject, and abandon him over and over he will never be pushed to kill you. The only circumstance in which he would take your life is if you have been irreparably damaged, physically or mentally. If, because of a demon attack, the cruelty of the world infecting you with an incurable disease, or you have lost your mind, if your life is nothing but suffering, he will mercy kill you. And he would follow you soon after, to be able to hold you in the afterlife and watch you be free of this pain.

#devil may cry imagine #devil may cry x reader #v x reader #devil may cry #yandere v #v dmc #v devil may cry #yandere v dmc #yandere #yandere male #soft yandere #male yandere #yandere devil may cry #dmc v x reader

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cottoncandyafterdark · 7 months ago

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Parenting Heacanons - Chuuya, Atsushi

Character(s): Chuuya Nakahara; Atsushi Nakajima (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Tags: SFW, fluff, familial, headcanons

Warnings: Mention of pregnancy

Notes: AFAB reader; originally posted on ao3 here; this is old and I'm not caught up with the manga now so sorry if anything seems strange

Chuuya

I'm not going to lie, Chuuya's initial response to finding out his partner is pregnant is not going to be very positive. He's not angry or anything, but he didn't really want kids and doesn't feel the slightest bit ready to be a father. He isn't going to run away, though; he knows it's sorta his fault you're in this situation to begin with so he's going to swallow his pride and stick around for your sake.

He spends the whole pregnancy low-key dreading having to take care of a baby. Mostly because he's got no clue how to do that. That's not to say he isn't trying to find out how; if you check his browser history at this point, it'll probably be a lot of parenting articles.

He'll say he wants to leave naming the baby to you but if you come up with name ideas and ask him for his thoughts on them Oh Boy will he have some opinions for you.

As soon as the baby is born and he gets to hold it, it's like all his apprehension just vanishes into thin air, he is immediately in love. Like, he looks this tiny, helpless human he helped make in the eyes and immediately knows he would kill and die for them.

I think that it would be a more interesting dynamic if he had a daughter; he'd still be a good father to a son, but with a daughter, he would truly be wrapped around her little finger. That little girl will be SO spoiled, she'll be the one all her classmates want to be friends with because she has all the newest video games and the best dolls.

Lord have mercy on anyone who tries to bully his daughter, not just because he'll be more than willing to beat them up but if she's inherited any of her dad's personality, so will she. If she gets in trouble at school for fighting back against a bully, she will get high fives and ice cream from Chuuya.

When she's old enough, he'll teach her to fight for real. He knows he won't always be there to protect her, so he wants her to be able to keep herself safe.

Once she's old enough to start dating, Chuuya will do the entire protective dad routine to any boys she might bring home. He will all but do a full interrogation about what they're planning, make it known that he knows how to hide a body, and if they bring her home even a minute late he is going to lose it.

Word will get around about this. It is not going to be easy for Chuuya's daughter to find a prom date.

Atsushi

In the early stages of pregnancy Atsushi is going to feel sicker than you.

This poor boy is straight-up terrified to be a parent at first because of what his own childhood was like. It isn't that he doesn't want to have children, exactly, he just doesn't want to end up continuing the cycle of abuse. Of course, the fact that he's worried about that at all is enough to tell you that he'll be a fine father, but good luck convincing him of that.

Once his child is born, all his worries are going to lead him to go so far in the opposite direction, he's probably never going to so much as raise his voice at the kid. He is a major pushover of a parent, Atsushi's child could get away with murder.

He's also going to have a hard time denying them anything they want. This is going to be another spoiled child for sure. The kid's probably going to end up as a bit of a brat because of this, and Atsushi can't even get mad because he knows it's no one's fault but his own.

On the positive side of things he's going to be such a supportive dad as well. He'll be in the front row of any recitals, plays, spelling bees, anything like that his child participates in and he is going to clap the loudest because he's so proud of them!!!

He'll try to help them with their math homework at some point, but quickly realize that he doesn't really know how to do math either. Much frantic googling will ensue as Atsushi tries to quickly learn long division for his child's sake.

When they get old enough to start hanging out with friends on their own, Atsushi is going to be so worried if they stay out later than they said they would, even if it's just by a few minutes. He'll also want to know exactly who they're with and where they're going. He isn't trying to be overbearing, he just has anxiety.

Voted most likely to cry when his child moves out. Empty nest syndrome is gonna hit him so hard. His child is probably going to get daily texts from their honorary aunts and uncles at the Agency reminding them to call their dad.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs x reader #atsushi nakajima #bsd chuuya #bsd atsushi #bsd headcanons #old fic

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ikkosu · 8 months ago

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REWIND / CHROMEDOME

(adopting gn!human reader)

a/n : been wanting a cute fluffy request I hope I wrote them uh satisfactorily 😭😭 I actually enjoyed writing about baby and cdrw maybe I’ll write more scenarios with this little family ughhh so cute

"Alright folks, we're leaving in thirty minutes!" Rodimus's voice echoed through the speaker.

"It's either you get on or get off the ship forever— Er, ah...oh what's that? We're not allowed to leave when— Damn it. Apologies, there's been a restatement by Ultra Magnus declaring it's illegal, you guessed it, for whatever reasons I'm not bothered enough to care. Blah, blah blah. Oh, shut it drift. Anyways, latecomers are welcomed in the brig. Buckle up in thirty! Rodimus out."

Rewind swivelled his gaze from the rock nestled on the grass, then to the ship, hovering not too far from where he's crouching. "Huh, guess I'm taking a detour." Then, his camera skims over the verdant fields of rolling hills. Red lights, blinking. "Won't hurt, would it?"

The LL had a short break stopping on Earth, mostly for refuelling, fresh air, stretching limbs,,,totally not because Brainstorm blew up the left wing again and The Science Team had to patch things up discreetly

Seriously, where is HR when you need it?

And, obviously, the Archivist is not missing the opportunity to explore, of course. It's earth! Home to,,,well,,,,the most complex (derogatory) kinds in the cosmos. And, this rock he's been examining? It's an extraterrestrial mineral. Figments of rocks from asteroids, comets, and the like originating outside of the Earth. Crazy, huh.

Better keep that for safekeeping.

Aside from, ah, well wandering where he's able to film stuff, occasionally animals and cows of the like, it's more like a need, at the moment, for a bit of (lets put this gently) space away from his conjunx — since, he's been acting like an ass of late.

Ahem, going behind his, ahem back to doing ahem Mnemosurgery....again.

It's not even an 'again' anymore, it's just borderline often

Why does he even bother to listen? You can't break old habits, as Ratchet would say. They'd break themselves before they could ever stop.

"So that's it? You're just going to ignore me like that?" Footsteps pattered behind him

Rewind huffs, walking faster. "Took you long enough to figure it out, genius."

He groans. "Oh for— Primus sake, Rewind, come on. Don't do this. We can talk."

"Oh sure, sure! Talk." He threw his hands up, whirling around to face his conjux. "That's what you always say, promising me like you're going to get your eyes gorged out if you didn't. What else, tell Red Alert to stop being paranoid and Whirl, a psychopathic ass?"

Chromedome palms his face. Primus, this apology isn't going well as he expected it to. "Look, I messed up. I breached a trust you had in me. I shouldn't have done it. That was very... inconsiderate....of me..."

"What is this, eight grade? Spelling bee on who's responsible?"

"That's not the point! You can't just—"

And, so it begins. The bickering. The blaming. Hand pointing. Arguments ablaze, never listening. Voice raising — just the tip of the iceberg, not even close to it's full potential.

"I bet my words doesn't mean anything to you now, does it?"

"It's does, Rewind. It does!"

"Hey! Stay there! Don't even come any closer or I swear to Primus I'll—"

A cry gurgled out amidst the bushes.

The Mnemosurgeon stiffens. He looking around for the source of the cry when he notices conjux was staring at him. "What?"

"Wow. Wow. Low blow, Chrome dome." Rewind puffs and presses his fists on his hips. " Low blow. I didn't think you'd do this. You're gonna resort to mocking me, now?"

He sputters. " You think that was me?"

"Yeah, blame it on the cows. Blame it on 'em like you do when avoid all responsibility."

"What's even a cow? Oh, for—" Then suddenly he lets out a surprised sound, dropping to crouch next to a bush. Rewind doesn't bother to look. Why would he? He's busy sulking and he wants that Mnemo-no-to-the-o to see it. Though, his audials tuned into a rustle of leaves when—

"There! Primus, Rewind look at this."

Said Archivist was still sulking, arms crossed, looking away. "Nuh, uh."

"Don't you nuh uh me." CD chuffs and figured actions were bigger than words so he scooped up the bundle of blankets and shoved it up his face. "Well? Still got film for this?"

Rewind takes a moment to register the visage.It was, if he knew his terms correctly, a human child. No, wait. A baby. It's the size of a sparkling but....smaller. And, significantly softer.

Most of all, it's crying. Coolant— er, tears streaming down the side of it's cheek. Gently, his servos curled around the scoop, nestling it softly against his chassis. He felt a kind of pull in is spark. Something fond pulsing. Chromedome loosened, looking away. What's the point? The mask already hid his smile.

"Seems pretty far from it's residential zone." Chromedome peers across the horizon searching for even the most recognizable specks of rooftops.

Nope, nothing.

Just rolls and rolls of green foliage.

"Hey there little fella." The Archivist coos, digit caressing the cheek to soothe it. The baby sniffled then blink, lifting up it's tiny fingers to bap his index. "What's a baby doing here of all places?Aren't human, uh, carrier, sires are very protective of their offsprings?"

Chromedome doesn't know what to say, he's not Ratchet or Percy, but he's sure as hell relieved their argument took a turn into park. "Misplacement, maybe."

"...How do you misplace a baby in a bush?"

"Things like that can happen, you know."

"If anything, it seemed like it's deliberately thrown in there. Look! It's even wrapped in a blanket."

He held it up for the Mnemosurgeon to see who, in turn, simply shrugged.

"Yeah. To keep it warm."

"Until someone finds them."

Chromedome narrows his optics. He's got a bad feeling about this. "Rewind. What are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is that this child is deliberately left here to be found. We can't just leave it out here—"

"Are you saying we should steal it?''

"I'm not saying we should- ugh yes! I'm saying we should steal it—"

"You're kidnapping children now?"

Ratchet cuts through both of their comms, immediately barraging them, "Are you two idiots done squabbling with whatever stupid problem you have or are we gonna have to wait another fraggin' hour until you both make up and kiss?"

They had to take the baby, much to CD's dismay.

Ultra Magnus was losing his mind. What do you mean you found a baby in a ditch, in a bush, in a field of all places?! Even worse, literally miles and miles away from the nearest habitual region!

Purely, coincidental. He'll have to look in his files for crimes like this lest another is let loose for havoc. The young are the future for society! Something Cybertron is severely lacking in

Unacceptable. Simply unacceptable. Oh, and by the way, you're both going in the brig. You're late.

"Chromedome stalled me."

"Here, we go again."

Everyone is busy cooing and taking turns prodding the bab, and can someone please keep whirl away from the child he's armed, (with the exception of Megatron, the medics and UM) who didn't, mostly for the fear of passing diseases to it, mostly stood far with unimpressed looks on their faces.

First Aid, though, eventually took matters into his own hand,,, by taking it into his own hands and putting it in a glass box (shut up Brainstorm we're not using your stupid Polyhex Quadrilateral Box or whatever) to scan it's vitals and conditions

Everyone was outside, peering through the glass, prodding, helms jut at odd angles to see through the crowd — while the medics delicately assessed its condition.

Ratchet had to explain poor Rewind that not everyone wants children and not every parents are deserving of it so. He's seen this a lot in human culture.

"So they abandon babies just for the fun of it?!"

Well, he's got a point. Most of it at least. "Rewind.... no."

When they were done ensuring the baby is in optimal condition, Ratchet comes up to the, er couple, if he had to put it that way and crossed his arms, a brow raised.

"Do you trust yourselves enough to look after the child?"

"Might as well." CD sighs. ".... I've got enough responsibility on my plate, already."

"Nobody forced you to go back and take it." Rewind mutters.

Ratchet held up a servo to cut off another argument brewing. " I'm going to put this out clear."

A digit points to them. Ratchet grits his dentas and every word that spooled out of his vocalizer, more intense.

"You both are going to have to put your differences aside. You're going to resolve that problem of yours, and resolve it clean — not in front of the child, but behind. Go hide in a broom closet for all i care. Mutilate or incapacitate each other's limbs, if it helps. Fight all you want, kill each other if you have to. But this baby? This baby? You're going to give this child the most loving, caring family it can have. You hear?"

Shenanigans ensue.

Obviously, given they're Cybertronians, human anatomy isnt a topic they're very well versed with. Rewind does know a thing or two. But consulting videos are not really the best way to go when neither of them have the tools to feed the baby

Percy and Nautica (because he doesnt trust brainstorm) are tasked with concocting the milk formula. They're seen tinkering away in the lab, barring the other scientist against a let-me-in charade. Lab doors are locked and padlocked with a specific colde — suck it BS.

All elements, minerals and resources as such are to be provided Rodimus (begrudingly), then fact-checked by the medics, very, very carefully.

They're like guts deep in space and very far from earth. A quantum jump to said planet, in case of an emergency, can affect the only organic living onboard.

Moreover, Ratchet doesn't trust CDRW to learn the stuff themselves, so he holds five hour long sessions daily on how to provide sufficient needs for the baby. You know, handling them, playing with them, learning their gestures, mannerisms,,,etc

CD loves holding baby by the armpit, and especially loves it when he does that, baby tries to bap his face, squealing and babbling, trying to reach him— he finds that his chassis always melts a little.

Rewind, on the other hands, adores cradling baby in a blanket. He likes how warm and soft it is against his arms. And how easily it his to nestle baby under his chin as he walks.

He is the most affectionate from the two. And definitely records everything. Soccer mom-esque, cheering loud whenever baby does something' monumental, for instance, blabbering dada coherently. But also the most rigid. Like, lattice structured rigid.

''Rewind you watch snuff films you hypocrite, a Sunday cartoon getting a liiiiittle violent is nothing compared to the archives you go through." Rodimus wags the CD in front of the Archivist, an upturned pleading pout, pulling his features. He looked comical hunching to regard the smaller Archivist with baby nestled under his chin.

It was an obvious ploy to fiddle with the baby. Everyone's trying to get a nab of their little squeals, these days. Why wouldn't they?

Those adorable fats for cheeks, soft and cuddly, crawling around the habsuite like a cretin, gumming on everything they could find.

Skids managed dodging through the vents after a successful glimpse of peek-a-boo (Rewind forbids physical touch. He's not risking any disease that can be transferred.)

He slinked down and baby immediately latched onto his pedes, babbling for an upsie. It took him a while, and much restraint, not to take it through the vents

Swerve almost poisoned baby with the engex again because, in his own words, what's a little harm in trying new things?

He's now locked up in the brig, banned from touching baby ever .

This entire crew is a hazard and Rewind wasn't having it.

"Is this the same captain known for illegal conduct of meteor surfing?"

"....Oh, shut it."

Chromedome's not very affectionate but is less-rigid when it comes to baby. He's the type to cave in when they want something. Sweets? Oh, you want sweets? He doesn't care if the Lost Light is miles away from the nearest planet. He's going there and he's going now.

Stop him and he'll plunge those long, needle-like nails into mecha's skull, their ancestors could see Primus's aft whole again.

Hoards like,,,,around fifty satchels of sweets. It was only until Ambulon had a private chat with the Mnemosurgeon, that, yes, the baby is going to die eating that much.

So, he offered safer alternatives if baby wanted something sweet. Boiled potatoes, ripe avocados and fruits could help. (They'll have to frequent the nearest planets)

CD is like the most cynical ass ever to exist so Rewind find himself with an existential crises, staring off into a wall, when baby would scrunch up their face, the way CD does when he's displeased.

"That mask stays on."

"But I didn't even—"

"It stays on."

But he also finds, a little begrudingly, that CD is a lot more understandable these days. Mostly always cradling baby and humoring the little cretin . Arguments are close to nill. He barely has to raise his voice

Cybertronians naturally have harsh edges, given they're metal (duh), so their rooms would be congruent in terms of features as well. Not exactly a pleasant thought when an organic is dawdling about.

So to be safe, in their habsuite, Chromedome installed padded cushions everywhere. Even the ceiling is padded, mecha's kibbles are also padded (much to Rodimus's chagrin)

And, every inch and crevice of that room is filled with scribbles. (Scribbles only Swerve can decipher, but he's busy lounging in the brig so there's that.)

Red Alert, during a habsuite check, once blacked out inside the room because he didn't recognize the new change. It was so pastel-ish, bright and soft, he justs goes away

Chromedome finds the poor mech on the ground, baby on top with their crayons, assaulting said mecha's face while squealing at the teal green against stark red paint

"A new paint job, huh."

"Chromedome, get the poor guy up for Primus's sake!"

Baby is limited to the Library and Med-bay (as per Rewind's request). Library because Megatron is there and they know for a fact he's more trustworthy with the baby than anyone. And, Med-bay because, well, medics

But obviously, baby is like, a little cretin who thinks rules are a no-go and said social construct a danger to society. And, by who's declaration? Rodimus. It's Rodimus.

Rewind is going to murder that speedster of a captain

So , it's a given mech's will see CD scampering across the halls upon spotting baby dangling off a goddamn beam. Or, hanging off someone's shoulder, (said bot doesn't know, because baby is so small, the sensors didn't pick up), then sees the mnemosurgeon slumping onto the ground in relief, passed out for a minute

What's baby doing there?!

Rip CD's spark rate.

And, since they've got to play the part of a happy family, Rewind has to sleep in the same berth as his conjux. Not that they didn't ever

After the reveal (CD going behind his back doing unethical things w/ his fingers) Rewind was obviously displeased so they sported separate berths. Now? They'll manage squeezing in the same bed.

Rewind tried to act all huffy about it, glancing to one side, as though he doesn't want to be there. He does. He's just sulking.

Chromedome silently stares at the ceiling. Baby is between them, chewing on a miniature Rung figure (that Rung gave because, somehow, it calms the little thing)

Baby notices the silence and wants attention, so they bap their hands on the surface when both mechs weren't listening. And does it again for the fifth time. CD sighs and decides to humor baby, a little.

"It's past bed-time." He says quietly, patting their head

With a squeal, baby plays with CD's servo and curls it over their head. He scoops the little bundle up into his arms and loosened up a little.

Rewind swivels to find baby nuzzling his conjux, both deeply asleep. Something soft thrums in his spark, and while he’d rather bash his conjux’s a skull with a hammer, he can’t deny the lovely visage of him cuddling their child. So, he scoots over a little, resting his helm on CD's shoulder. He doesn't flinch when a servo lands on his shoulder plate, pulling him close.

Maybe, it wasn’t so bad.

#chromedome x reader #rewind x reader #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #idw chromedome #idw rewind #WOOOOO finally one request done urgh #Chromedome #rewind #Ratchet #idw ratchet #Idw First aid

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kirisaki-daichi-scenarios · 5 months ago

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girls just wanna have fun | nash gold jr + younger sister!reader

for anon who asked “Since you did a Nash with a little brother headcanons, could you do Nash with a little sister? (Maybe like a 2 year difference)” … yeah so much for that. in my defence i did start writing hcs with a 2 year difference, but then i had a Vision and suddenly words started flowing through my head for the first time in weeks so i had to type at the speed of light to get them down before my phone died. then my phone died anyway so the second half of this was originally written on a napkin. being sat on a train floor writing fanfiction on a napkin is possibly the most loser-y thing i’ve ever done but hey, at least i had fun. you might still get some hcs - it depends on if i can be bothered / how well this au does, but i hope you like this oneshot anyway!

“Practice more next time,” is what 12-year-old Nash tells you, age seven, after you’re eliminated in the first round of the school’s spelling bee.

Then he sees your lip start to wobble.

He rolls his eyes and adds, “but they gave you the hardest word. Totally.”

As he listens to you complaining about how unfair life is, whilst knowing that, at your age, he could have spelt “rosette” backwards, Nash just keeps biting his tongue. Lets you rant and nods in agreement whenever you check to see if he’s still listening.

He’s a big brother now, that’s how his parents put it, he has to be a good role model. And - this is what Nash is thinking to himself - he has to be an extra good big brother to make up for the useless parents who should have been here for their daughter’s first spelling bee. He has to be the one promising he’ll take you to the ice cream shop round the corner so that, in years from now, it’ll be the vanilla that sticks in your memory, and not the two empty chairs with “reserved for the Golds” on the seats. He doesn’t want you to think of your childhood years like how he thinks of his.

Nash Gold tries hard to keep his little sister happy.

But once Nash goes into high school, and starts taking his basketball, water sports, boxing, and everything else more seriously, there’s less time for being the stand-in parent attending all your events.

The good news is that you start doing less anyway. The preteen years have made you shy away from the world, flitting from hobby to hobby without anything to really bury your soul in. There was the anime-inspired volleyball obsession that died as soon as you finished your binging the seasons; the brief craving to join the basketball club until you realised just how incompetent your teammates were compared to Nash, how boring and difficult everything was when it was not your big brother doing it; the desire to be the West End’s next star that was crushed by receiving the role of tree in the school play and tripping over in your only scene (how Nash had laughed! And then scowled at the people laughing at you next to him); and then the single-day infatuation with joining the chess club, the infatuation dying as soon as you realised your chess-playing crush already had a girlfriend.

To fill your time, you start accompanying Nash to Jabberwock’s practices. No one wants you there. Nash has forbidden them from swearing around you, and any sex jokes are an even bigger no: given these two things combined are 90% of the usual Jabberwock conversation, it’s not a surprise that there’s grumbling when they see you walking behind Nash.

But Nash silences any grumbling with a glare as cold as ice.

Because, sure, he doesn’t want his little sister following him around everywhere but he’d much rather you were doing your homework in the corner of a street ball court instead of sat alone in an empty house.

Nash’s priority is always that you finish your homework. Only then will he let you help out as the team’s mini manager: topping up water bottles, fetching balls, collecting the boy’s hoodies when they get too warm. And, over time, your place in the team feels more secure. You’re good in your role as the little helper. You crack a “that’s what she said” joke that gets everyone guffawing - everyone but Nash, that is, who scolds you the high heavens, demands to know where you’ve been hearing jokes like that, whilst, in his heart of hearts, being thrilled that you’re coming out of your shell. You sit down with Nick during breaks to ooh and aah over his Animal Crossing Island, trembling with excitement when he hands you the Nintendo and lets you design a room of your own. You beg Zack to teach you to spin a basketball on your finger, and hug him overjoyed when you manage it for the first time. You fetch fresh headbands for Allen while looking down at the ground, blushing frantically: your crush on the boy lasts several months, though you never notice how Nash burns holes in Allen’s head whenever the two of you are talking, or how awkward having a middle schooler crush on him makes Allen feel.

Then, one day, you decide you want to learn how to do a dunk. After spending an hour watching you struggle to jump even one foot up in the air, Jason lifts you up onto his shoulders. Tells you to “try now - just tell me where you want me to go and hold on tight.”

Looking around from over 7ft tall, you feel like you’re the queen of the world.

By the time you’re in high school, you’ve become more confident. You don’t come to Jabberwock’s practices as often. You’ve got friends to hang out with instead, a study group that you always attend, and, inspired by your brother’s prowess in everything fisticuffs, you’ve signed up to be member of the school’s taekwondo club.

Nash never makes you to come to practice. Though it hurts seeing your corner of the court empty, devoid of the rucksack and textbooks that used to fill it, he knows that this is for the best. A teen girl shouldn’t be living in her brother’s shadow. Hell, a guy shouldn’t have his little sister in his shadow either.

But Nash still finds it hard to hold back a grin when you see him grabbing his basketball bag and ask if you can “come with?” And when you’re at practice, it’s like nothing’s changed. You join in with everyone else teasing Zack over his newly shaven head; you still get a little shy when talking to Allen; and you whoop and gush over Nick’s high arc shots as if you’ve never seen them before.

“You’re my number two favourite basketball player ever,” you tell Nick, rushing over to him as he awkwardly runs his hand through his spiky blonde hair.

Overhearing, Allen says with a little hope, “he’s not number one?”

“Obviously not,” you roll your eyes, “Nash is my number one. Duh.”

No one loves Nash as much as you do, and no one loves you as much as he does.

It turns out Nash is an anomaly, and that combat sport skill does not run in the family. You are horrible at taekwondo: your kicks are accurate - surprisingly so given how bad your balance is - but, no matter how many drills you do, or how many times you insist Nash comes up with a workout routine for you, they never develop much power.

But you’re trying hard to improve, forever inspired by your brother, and you take any chance to kick that you’re given.

“Taekwondo?” asks Jason one morning, as practices a free throw. “They don’t have any good martial arts clubs at your school?”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d felt the pain of my kicks,” you retort, hands on your hips.

Jason turns to you. “Go on then.”

You ready yourself, check your footing’s correct, and then swing your leg out. With a thud, your foot makes contact with Jason’s side.

He stares at you, almost in pity. “That’s it?”

But Nash is walking by and he’s glaring like he normally does whenever someone that’s not him makes him little sister look inadequate. So, dutifully, Jason falls backwards in slo-mo and pretends to roll on the floor in agony, crying out for his mother and claiming that he’s never known such pain, while you give him another kick in his side for being a jerk.

(Nash never scolds you for kicking his teammates, though, of course, he’d have a fit if any of them even looked at you wrong.)

Of course, you’re not an idiot; you know you’re not good at taekwondo. But, unlike all your previous school clubs, you’re not planning on leaving this one. After all, without the club, you’d have no opportunities to say good morning to star of the Taekwondo club, Ryuu. And you’d never get to feel his fingers brushing against your arm as he corrects your posture; you’d never get to see his grin and thumbs up as he tells you he’s sure your kicks are improving; and, more importantly, you would have never got the opportunity to wait for him outside the dojang, see him walk out looking more handsome than ever, and ask him if he’d ever think about going out with you.

“Think about it?” Ryuu replies. “Man, I dream of it!”

Smiling from ear to ear, he reaches out to intertwine his fingers with yours, and he doesn’t let go of your hand until he’s walked you all the way home. The feeling of his touch lingers, the warmth flooding through your veins, and keeping your smile fixed on your face.

Nash is sitting on the sofa when you walk in. He looks up from his phone and frowns, “who was the guy?”

“I’m dating the coolest guy in the whole school,” you gush, racing to your brother’s side to tell him all about Ryuu, and you’re still talking about the boy - enthusing now about his Taekwondo prowess - by the time Nash starts preparing dinner.

Nash says he’s happy that you’re happy, grunts occasionally in agreement with your rambles, and accepts the fact that this is probably all he’ll be hearing for the next few hours.

“You’re not upset with me, are you?” you ask eventually, noticing how your brother’s gone quiet.

“Never” replies Nash. “Why would I have an issue with you dating a guy who’s made you this happy?”

But it’s funny how often you bump into him when you’re out with said boyfriend. And not just Nash: it’s like the whole team starts appearing out of nowhere at cafes, parks, funfairs. And these chance encounters always follow the same trend: the boys are happy to see you, chatty and joking, and then they look at Ryuu and their faces take on a cold sneer, every inch the vicious Jabberwock archetype they’re known for.

Nash tells him, “you look after my sister, yeah? Or else.” And if looks could kill…

Zack pretends to be polite, saying “well, I’ve got no problem with you - for now. You make sure to keep it that way.”

Nick has to hold back a snicker as he replies to your boyfriend with “yeah, nice to meet you man, whatever.” Then he turns to you and whispers, “you would have been better off with Allen.”

Allen wipes the sneer of his face when you ask him to be nice; he smiles at you, but then, as he meets your boyfriend’s gaze, he mumbles to you, “you’ve got my number if you ever need me to sort any problems out.”

Jason says, “this guy? Seriously? Shit, I could snap in two him like a twig.”

By the time he meets Jason, your boyfriend’s long fed up of the slander. He stands up from the bench, even though it only makes him look smaller against Jason’s muscular 6ft11 frame, looks up into the other man’s amused expression, and replies, “with all due respect, I was the Taekwondo state champion last year.”

Jason’s laugh is so loud and booming it practically triggers an earthquake.

Ryuu’s a good boyfriend. Nash never learns to genuinely like him, but he stops disliking him as much as time goes on. He orders pizza for the three of you when you and Ryuu are doing a study date at the Gold household; he drives you to Ryuu’s Taekwondo tournament and grudgingly claps when he wins; or he throws a couple condoms at Ryuu when you’re snuggling against your boyfriend on your bed, watching your favourite movie together.

“You should be grateful I’m such a good brother,” Nash laughs when you start punching him for embarrassing the two of you like this. “You know, when I was your age…”

“Go away, Nash!” you screech, pushing him out of the room, “God, you’re such a nuisance.”

“All I’m saying is use protection,” comes Nash’s sniggering voice as you slam the door shut behind him.

You walk back over to Ryuu. “I’m sorry about him. Honestly, he’s the worst.”

“Nah, your brother’s cool,” says Ryuu, but he’s still blushing a bit as he gives you that golden grin of his that makes you feel like you’re his entire world.

But all good things come to an end.

Ryuu moves to a new state where he’ll be able to get better Taekwondo instruction. His coach thinks he’s got Olympic potential - they don’t want him to be wasted in this city where nothing good ever happens - and his parents are in agreement.

“They said the sooner I leave, the better for my future,” quotes Ryuu as squeezes your hand, looking down at the ground beneath the swings you’re sharing. “But I wanted you to be my future.”

Nash had told you not to interfere - that you don’t want to be the person holding Ryuu back from his dreams - so you encourage Ryuu to go, tell him that you’ll still be his future, it’s just a few years of separation.

And it’s Nash who drives you to the airport and watches from a distance as the two of you hug for the final time, promising to say in contact, promising that you’ll be able to make long distance work.

When you walk back to Nash, your lip’s wobbling like it did back when you were seven. As soon as he wraps his arm around you, you burst into tears, sobbing into his shirt. Your brother hugs you tighter, like he’s the only thing in the world keeping you from falling into pieces. His voice is quiet and calm and betrays none of the pain he feels looking at your crying figure.

Into the top of your head, Nash mutters, “As soon as the season’s over, you and I will go on a road trip to go see him, alright? And you can call him every night if you want. And if he even thinks of looking at another girl, or ignoring a single text of yours, Jason and I will fly over and deal with him. Or we’ll kidnap him and bring him back to you if that’s what you want.”

You’re crying harder, fingers clutching onto Nash’s shirt even tighter.

“I’ll skip practice today if you want; we can do a movie night instead.”

Voice muffled by how your face is pressed into Nash’s chest, so none of the passersby might see you crying, you reply, “no. You should go to practice.”

“I’m not gonna leave you alone like this.”

“Can I come?”

“What - to practice? Yeah, ‘course. The boys are always happy to have you around.”

You look up and force a smile, biting on your tongue like it might stop you crying, as Nash matches your smile with a sad grin of his own.

“It’s gonna be rough, but you’ll get through it,” he says, “you’re the toughest kid I know.”

And he pulls you in for another hug.

fun fact: the original plan was for the boyfriend to cheat on reader who breaks up with him, and then for jabberwock to go teach him a lesson. but then i thought “why the need for all this violence?”, me of course being the admin of a blog dedicated to a team that’s known for their non-violent ways. but anyway i figured it was an overused trope and why not show nash being an actually good supportive brother, so here you go. (and if anyone enjoyed reading about the lesser known jabberwock members, then you might also like these hcs) (and if you wanna read the nash little brother hcs, you can find them here)

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just-another-star-47 · 6 months ago

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@kiwiplaetzchen made this wonderful template and I couldn't resist to fill it out, now that I try to focus mainly on Luscinia and her story. 😊

(And yes, I need to draw her wand, but I'm still not sure about the design 🙈)

So let's get a little more into detail, shall we? 😁

Luscinia is the Latin name for nightingale (So the c is spelled like the ones in Accio). During the big witch hunt in Europe, big wizarding families started to give their family members Latin names as an act of rebellion against the Christian church, that used Latin for their holy textes. Till this day, the Plonbraw family keeps that tradition alive, much to Luscinia's regret.

Luscinia's family originated in the eastern part of (modern) Germany, a part that is part of Prussia in the 1890s. The family of her mother still lives there, so she regularly visited her old homeland, even though the Plonbraw family fled into the far north of Norway centuries ago.

In a wand ceremony in her old home town the wand of one of her ancestors choose to be with her - made out of willow wood, around 20 cm long, somewhat flexible. (Read about the wand ceremony here)

I don't want to spoil too much, because I think it will be a part in my story, but let's just say her Patronus is a special dragon. 🤫

Rosalie was a gift from her older brother, right before her first year in school. He bought it from the money he got from selling potions to his classmates. (Maybe I have chosen the name after a little owl in one of my favourites films, that always broadcast around christmas in Germany. 😊)

Speaking of her brother, she has three siblings. Her older brother Corvus is four years older than her, her sister Alauda is three years older and her brother Alcedo is two years younger.

The relationship with her parents is.. complicated. Her father is an Auror, that isn't at home very often, her mother sees the worth of her children only in their achievments.

Luscinia is shy, because she doesn't trust other people and overthinks way too much, what they could do with the informations she gives them. She also often times feels pressured to regulate the people around them, making sure nobody gets hurt or upset.

She's rather lazy when it comes to homework, or other academic duties, but she needs to do things. Boredom makes her go crazy and you really don't want to come across her, when she's bored. It's one of the rare occasions, where she'd be very rude.

The only reason why her room is somewhat tidy, is because she gets overwhelmed very quickly, when there are too many distracting things in her surrounding. Other than that, she has simply no interest in beeing overly neatly, one of the reasons why she's so bad in Potions and Transfiguration - the need to be overly exact is nothing for her.

Luscinia tries to be friendly to everyone, because she never want to make someone feel bad or unwelcome. That beeing said, she's not a big philanthropist and especially in her teenage years she can get grouchy in social gatherings.

Typical Gryffindor here - brave to a point were it borders on dumbness.. 😅 Her playfulness doesn't make it any better. It's a trait not many are allowed to witness, but if she feels safe with someone, she loves to tease, play, do dumb shit and get lost in small details.

Luscinia is clumsy, because in her mind she is often elsewhere - already doing the next task, daydreaming or talking with herself. So no, she doesn't even notice it, when she bumps into objects, or that it's predictable that she pushes the vial with the liquid from the table to the ground by how hastily she works. 😅

#hogwarts legacy #about luscinia #luscinia plonbraw #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy fanart

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physalian · 6 months ago

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On Writing Characters That Don't Or Can't Speak English

This such a fun dynamic, honestly and more fantasy and sci-fi should implement it. You don’t even have to design a fantasy language, although writing that character’s un-written dialogue constantly as narration might get old.

I haven’t done this with any real-world languages or cultures but a tiny advisory: Take care in how you describe the cadence, tonality, and gesticulations of characters meant to represent real world cultures speaking in their languages. You can get unintentionally discriminatory very quickly, so do your research and hire sensitivity readers.

With that said!

There’s a few points I want to cover here.

1. How your characters communicate without dialogue

This also concerns characters that cannot learn the dominant language, whether they’re a fantasy character that just can’t make those sounds, or they’re deaf or mute or have another disability that makes verbal communication difficult.

You have so many options and you can have so much fun with it. You can make your own version of a sign language or a code language that only your core characters or a group they belong to can communicate in. Create your own pidgin or medium of communication, like a soundboard of different tonalities or a thought-to-speech translator like a Speak n’ Spell, or an Etch A Sketch, or have a magic hologram subtitle display before them. Or like the Q*Bert dialogue bubbles in Wreck it Wralph where the translation is never given, only the detailed response so you can fill in the blanks.

One of my favorite cartoons is Transformers Prime. It’s based off the character designs from the Bay live action movies, not the original cartoons, so the machines they transform into are modern and updated and there’s a few references to the Bay movies’ lore sprinkled about, but not a required watch for appreciating the show.

In it, Bumblebee carries over his inability to speak due to a damaged voice box. I imagine he now communicates in a series of beeps and bleeps because the cartoon didn’t want to pay the licensing fees for Movie Bee’s jukebox dialogue, but it works way better here. Why? Because, I think, and I do not suffer from any speech impediments, that it better conveys the struggles of a disability.

Bee never speaks and his dialogue is never subtitled. The audience is only clued into what he’s saying when other characters respond to him in an unambiguous way so, like Q*Bert, you can fill in the blanks. He isn’t universally understood, either, only one human and the other transformers can understand him, so when he’s with other humans in a dangerous situation, their inability to bridge the language gap becomes a very real problem (that no one ever blames Bee for).

Also, Bee is never once insulted, belittled, demeaned, or mocked for his speech impediment and he’s a badass character in his own right. He’s not “the robot with the speech impediment” he’s “the badass sportscar scout with a heart of gold, and who also has a speech impediment”. The only time it’s talked about negatively is by the main villain, who’s trying to be an asshole about it, but even then, Megatron never thinks Bee is less capable for it, he just thinks everyone is lesser than himself across the board (Megatron is also responsible for his disability ‘cause Bee was captured and his interrogation went poorly, if you needed another exhibit of the Big M’s sadism).

Bee’s damaged voice box is almost never central to his arc, either. He gets one two-parter where he loses his ability to transform and takes it super hard, since he’s already damaged and sees himself as less useful than the rest of the team without this critical ability.

Again, I don’t have this disability so I can’t comment on how respectful it actually is to those who do, but from an outsider’s perspective, I think Bee is a fantastic example of empowering disabled characters and giving them substance beyond their disability—cannot comment on how they ended his arc and resolved the impediment, or that it was resolved at all.

2. How you describe those unwritten words

Doubling down here: Do your research so you aren’t stereotypical and insensitive, please.

Still going off the assumption that you aren’t just writing this dialogue in the other language for now, like a character who only speaks in Spanish and you have the dialogue there in Spanish that I may have to translate separately, like in Spiderverse, or the Gaelic in Outlander, neither of which were subtitled for non-native speakers.

Since you don’t have the dialogue there, you are relying entirely on tone of voice, gesture, volume, and facial expressions, so dial your descriptions of those up to eleven—especially if this is a character who over-gesticulates to better get their point across.

You can also have the characters they’re closest to pick up on a few of their common or significant phrases to convey the connection and friendship they share.

In Outlander, at least the first season when they’re actually in Scotland (easily the best season), there’s entire scenes in Gaelic and all you have as an audience member is their tone of voice and gesticulations, and sometimes you just have to presume the gist of the scene because an English speaker isn’t present and they only give the gist a few scenes later. One in particular comes at the end of the season after an extremely traumatic event that happened to Character A, arguing over why he wants to end his life to Character B. One would think that this gut wrenching dialogue would be critical to understanding the scene but the two actors go above and beyond conveying the critical emotions behind what they’re saying, so the words don’t even matter. If you were deaf, you’d understand the scene as effectively as someone who doesn’t speak Gaelic.

Can’t confirm but I think they did this very much on purpose because Gaelic isn’t getting any more commonly spoken and you’re meant to feel a little alienated by it and only those who know Gaelic can get the full scene, like it's just for them. Can’t confirm the accuracy of the dictation or translation of the language, either, but the ‘alienating’ effect always leaves me utterly fascinated by the language. You cannot ignore the Gaelic to just drone through the subtitles, you have to pay attention.

3. How that character bumbles through the dominant language

This one is for non-disabled bi or multilingual characters or those who could learn the dominant language but haven’t had the time or opportunity. Depending on the character’s skill with the language, they can Spanglish their way through with awkward parsing still using their native languages grammar rules.

I can’t speak to this, I only know very clunky Spanish. I can say my efforts to speak in Spanish are always done in excitement as I get the chance to practice this language, and then the pressure to translate on the spot has me forgetting words I definitely know how. I get by, even if my conjugations are botched, and me, looking as I do, definitely catch people off guard when I respond to them in Spanish, generally followed by smiles at my attempts.

Just recently I had to perform tech support for a family in my apartment complex. They needed to print a thing and the printer wasn’t connecting. We gestured and pointed our way through getting their files onto my USB drive and plugging that direct into the printer, and doing one copy at a time, it was a whole thing with me bumbling through printer tech support in basic Spanish because they didn’t know a single word of English. But by god, we did it.

4. The conflicts that arise from mismatched dialogue

On a more big picture level, miscommunication through to a mistranslation can range from comedic to critically life-threatening, and it can be a recurring hurdle for the character or team to consider and plan for.

Comedy wise, mistranslations can be hilarious. Characters blanking on the word they need and being entertainingly frustrated, or taking a roundabout way to get to the word they need by piecing it together. Characters who don’t get a joke that only native speakers would know, or translating a joke in their language that isn’t as funny in another language without the other parlance.

Or just two characters who have to cooperate to survive and who don't have a common language to make that cooperation easier. I *love* gratuitously violent action movies and just the action genre in general, even if the story is cheesy or dumb. One of those movies is Alien vs Predator. In it, eventually, Protagonist 'enemy of my enemy's her way into an alliance with one of the Predators, against the much larger Xenomorph threat.

He doesn't speak anything other than growls and she only speaks English and though the movie overexplains many things (probably because the producers didn't trust the audience like the writers did), they have several moments together where he has to give her critical survival information, like "I have a failsafe bomb with a very short delay we need to run right now" and "Use this meat shield to protect yourself against their acid blood" and "You're an honorary Predator warrior now I must do this ritual for you" and can only mime his way through it, and through the power of gesture and charades, they make it work.

Drama wise, I live for big problems coming unexpectedly from small, human mistakes. One translation error can snowball into some horrible consequences.

—

Big picture, though, you do your fantasy or sci-fi world a disservice by not considering multiple languages, even if you don’t write them, or multilingual characters and the problems and world biases that arise from these different groups. Dead languages, rare languages, languages associated with the villain group or minorities. Languages that only one character is fighting to keep alive, or a language that, when spoken, comes with some sinister side effects (like Parseltongue or the Black Speech, the language of Mordor).

It really adds to the immersion when you have an expansive story that doesn’t just assume English/Common is the law of the land, or that all your fantasy/alien species can or want to speak it.

#writing advice #writing a book #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing #writeblr #fantasy #scifi #fantasy language #worldbuilding #outlander #transformers prime #bumblebee #alien vs predator

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my-pjo-stuff · 3 months ago

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AU where Hades never cursed the Oracle of Delphi, and it not taking a new host really was just a weird anomaly case of no one "fitting" coming around. When May comes to camp and attempts to become the Oracle, she succeeds without any major issues. Apollo even allows her to raise her son- in her spare time where she isn't acting as his oracle, ofcourse. May's fine with it, overjoyed even. She moves into camp permanently together with Luke, Chiron allowing Luke to stay with his mother instead of going to the Hermes cabin while he's so young. Hermes meanwhile resigns himself to keeping his distance. He loves May- so seeing her like this, unattainable to him without risking the wrath of Apollo- well he simply can't bear it. Best not to risk it at all.

The dream comes crashing down for May much quicker than she expected though- turns out there's a lot more expected of her as Oracle of Delphi than she originally thought. She has to learn ancient greek, the culture of Camp Halfblood, and how things work. She has to advise people, and remain composed as she serves Apollo faithfully. (A younger Oracle would have had more time- would have seen less responsibility as she is allowed to grow into it. But May? She's a grown adult, and she does not have any of the leniency someone younger would get)

Years pass in the blink of an eye- and despite not spending as much time with her son as she wished she could- May does generally say that they are happy. She doesn't think much of it when Luke moves into the Hermes cabin at the age of nine. It's where all his siblings are, and kids to grow up quickly these days. It's note like he'd bee too far away either- all that really changes is Luke sleeping in a different spot! Chiron has been mentioning it anyway that Luke should join his siblings- Hermes had claimed him as soon as he moved into Camp with his mother permanently, and the boy's been kept from his cabin long enough.

It's not like she couldn't use the extra room and time for herself anyway. Being the Oracle of Delphi is a busy job after all. As the years go by May grows into her role more. Luke starts being independent from her more and more- spending more time away from her and with other campers. But there's no reason to be concerned about that, right? It's normal for children to grow independent as they age. And May is so proud of her baby boy when he becomes Hermes head counselor. His failed quest was...well, it was a low point. Especially when she had to look Luke in the eyes and give him a prophecy spelling doom. Believe her when she says that she spend every single day worrying about and praying for her child to return safely.

Especially when her brave boy refuses to take any companions with him, not wanting to endanger anyone else. It doesn't matter to May that Luke returns with a scar and no apple- all that matters is that he's alive. Her baby boy is alive and safe and that is all that matters. It concerns her when Luke refuses any of her attempts to comfort him. Turning his back anytime she approaches him, telling his mother "not to worry" and that "she surely has more important stuff to worry about than him"

May learns soon enough that her son needs space now. All her attempts are met with rejection and bitterness, so clearly Luke does not need- nor want- his mother right now. It's fine, May is sure her son is fine. Or at least she thought so until one day, on the last day of summer, Luke leads Percy into the woods and sticks a pit scorpion on him. Telling him about how horrid their parents truly are- mortal and godly. Afterall, no matter how much they say they "love" their children- there's always something more important. Another prophecy to speak, another camper to advise, another ritual for Apollo to perform. All that matters to them are the gods- a half-mortal child simply isn't important enough. And he's not gonna take it any longer. May is the Oracle of Delphi. Luke hates both his parents. And fate is unavoidable.

#is every mortal parent a neglectful asshole?#nope!#woukd Luke know that in this AU?#ALSO NOPE #Like litteraly he's tossed into the cesspoll of negelect that is Hermes;#most the stories he's gonna hear are either dead parents or shitty ones #and that combined with being just straight up accidentally neglected as a kid by May being overwhelmed with her oracle duties?#yeah that is NOT a good cocktail #oh May- you poor: poor woman #you truly loved your son #you truly wanted to raise him #if only you had knows what you were getting yourself into becoming the Oracle of Delphi #there are REASONS why they don't really have kids or lovers #the heartbreak she'll feel realizing she negelected her baby boy and that he grew to resent her #the gut punch when Luke starts calling er “The Oracle” instead of “Mom” post TlT <3333 #pjo #luke castellan #may castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson

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sevenpoyo · 1 year ago

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this got deleted like 5 times this version is nothing like the original and i don’t know how tumblr works

By time you meet denji, he know you you work at the noodle shop or bakery and feed him and pochita. Or maybe he’s seen you with the yakuza guys he owns more money than he’s ever seen to, or maybe some t.v show or porno he watched second hand. Either way he knows you, but when you’re introduce yourself, saying the name that is distantly familiar to him, and looking at him with the most captivating eyes he’s ever seen. When you’re giving him a look so warm and all encompassing that makes him feel full like a hot meal from the old guy who thinks that denji is his grandson.

Your smile spells out warm fresh bread and sweet fruit jam as you ask his name once, twice, three times and the concern that overtakes your features at the fourth time you ask him, makes that full feeling turn into nausea. Like finding a bee hive and gourging himself on too sweet honey. He nearly collapses when your voice actually reaches his ears and he hears you talking to him, the gentle melody of “are you alright? are you feeling well? what the hell!? can you even here me?!?” You step closer looking for any indication of injury besides his despondency, and he’s knocked back into reality.

He has to say something back! You’ll probably get sick of standing here with him if he doesn’t! You’ll leave! every alarm in his brains is screaming it over and over and over! You’ll leave. You’ll leave! You’ll leave! You’ll leave! You’ll leave! You’ll leave. Look at you! Of course you weren’t sticking around!

You’re leaving! He feels that warm kind look leave him and he feels exactly what he is again, he’s a poor starving street rat who’s missed his chance of someone like you looking at him with soft, warm, nice feelings that he’s never felt and will likely never feel again. His one shot at being something to someone. lost. wasted. you’re turning around to leave the skinny mess of a teenage boy in front that couldn’t even respond when you asked him the most simple questions. Using all the strength in his body he sputters, forcing out breath that reeks of hunger into your face and finally coughs up his name.

“i’m uh- my names Denji. i’m fine! i can hear! i’m Denji and- this is pochita!” please look at him again. denji leans closer to see over your shoulder, please look at him. then you dig up a water bottle, and a granola bar and he’s in love. you’re staying, your gonna feed him, and he feels closer to heaven then he’s ever been. Maybe he’s dead, and you’re an angel. Denji didn’t much believe that he deserved to go to heaven- or that pochita would still be with him. but he thought all devils were inhuman looking, and you just looked lovely to him.

“ok then Denji, i’m gonna need your full name. i’m worried that you may be concussed. do you know what year it is? do you feel nauseous?” now he thinks it make sense if you were and angel angel’s use big words.

“huh? what’s concussed mean? and nas- noushis?” his mouth was watering as he fumbled to unwrap the granola bar.

“oh god! denji can you tell me where you live? are you parents home?” shit! he can’t take you back to his shack! you’ll leave for sure if he takes you to that shithole!

“i lost my house keys! that’s why i’m outside! and my head is fine! i’m just really hungry!”

“ok, i’ll just stay to make sure. do you want to go somewhere to eat or something? this place gives me bad vibes.” Wow, this has to be heaven. there’s not other way that this could happen to denji.

“sure! but uh.. i don’t have any money on me. ” he didn’t have any money at all, but why get stuck up on details?

“that’s fine! i’ll pay since we’re friends now, and we could put your little friend in my book bag!” you said referencing pochita. who is now running laps around the two of you,

that makes denji take back what he said earlier. this wasn’t heaven, you were.

#denji csm #csm x reader #denji x reader #denji hayakawa #denji my beloved #yandere csm #yandere denji

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fountainpenguin · 2 months ago

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i know youve mentioned that the dimmadomes have adhd but are there other characters in your fics that are neurodivergent? :0 if that makes sense

It's not usually mentioned in-story, but here are some that have shown up in my writing:

Humans

- You brought up the Dimmadomes having ADHD/OCD comorbidity. They're some of my favorites just in terms of me developing those headcanons somewhat separately for each one of them... starting with Dale, not Dev, actually. But Dev was a logical conclusion afterwards.

Detail I think is cute: Both Dale and Dev like Sims games because they like building nice, organized things that are under their control (Yes, Dev does have a computer in his bedroom and I imagine he uses it mostly for games). Dev likes cleaning and organizing simulators. Dale played a LOT of Sims during the 50 years of frozen time. I like to think Sims was an awakening for teen Dale in terms of same-sex relationships, but he will never, ever tell you that. Come to think of it, there's no way boy x boy manga-loving Dev is not also exploring same-sex relationships through his Sims world. Like father, like son?

Realizing how funny it would be if Doug had ADHD and OCD and that's why he jumps from one business to another and why his dream in "Mooooving Day" is a suburbia of people dressed in identical outfits living in identical houses in many identical rows still has me on the floor. I'm sorry, I just think my realization of that when I'd already headcanoned both Dale and Dev with ADHD/OCD was extremely funny. Big "Wait a minute" lightbulb moment.

Dale has several interesting things we could talk about, and they're discussed in detail in the character profile I'm posting for him next week. On his list are complex PTSD, hypervigilance, and dissociation. He also has misophonia as part of his OCD (and so does Dev).

- My OC Hadley Harrington also has ADHD/OCD comorbidity. Her big thing is hoarding OCD. I discussed it more in her character profile and we saw it in action in "50 Words of Dev and Hazel," where Dev dug through his mom's stuff to rescue an au pair that had been crushed under her hoard.

In that story, Dale told Dev he was allowed to go to a Christmas party with his peers as long as he brought back some of their wrapping paper so Dale could wrap Hadley's present. She actually likes her presents when they're made of scraps because the recycling helps her feel better than paper being wasted, plus she thinks it looks fun in videos, and Dale knows that. Just a little detail I thought was cute.

- Chloe has mild OCD. She sometimes has anxiety attacks and experiences dissociation.

- Timmy and Mikey Munroe are two other characters who have ADHD in my works and I LOVE playing them as foils for each other, with Timmy being less attentive and Mikey being more hyperactive.

- Mikey also has dyslexia (Heavily implied by canon where he struggles with the spelling bee), which is interesting. I am still obsessed that his crush (Sophie Sanders) seems to have dyscalculia. Boy who struggles with words, girl who struggles with numbers, what crimes will they commit?

- Peppy Happy Betty has severe anxiety. In the original version of "Solo" (which was posted and up for a while), she said Sanderson helped her through her self-harm struggles. I later tweaked it so she says she's been scratching herself as I didn't think the original phrasing fit with the rest of my T-rated content (and I didn't want to catch people off guard with it).

Pink and Gray is supposed to delve into her self-harm, which is part of why I plan to raise its rating when it comes off hiatus (and I'll update the tags accordingly). This is one of the stories that I expected to censor most from its original draft, but since I want to raise its rating for other reasons anyway, I'd like to explore her self-harm arc too. Carefully and with proper tags as mentioned. Betty gets into tattoos later as a way to redirect some of those feelings. I... think she has bat (Anti-Fairy) wings tattooed on her back, but I'll have to double check. Pretty sure it's bat wings.

- I'd also like to write Hazel as autistic- I've seen autistic writers talk about the many things they relate to with her and I like their portrayals.

- I've been waffling over making Kevin Crocker neurodivergent because it feels right to me, but I haven't nailed down exactly what I want to do with him. Open to suggestions, but still doing research and trying to find what feels right :)

Non-Humans

Disclaimer - My non-humans have non-human brains; I'm translating a few things from their in-universe diagnoses for clarity.

- Goldie has Harm OCD. Her species (will o' the wisps) are stereotyped as "damsels force drakes into harems" and she has a lot of paranoia regarding that.

Enter Goldie-Poof dubcon arc where Poof feels awful about expressing his relationship concerns to Goldie, knowing she'll panic about them, so he keeps hiding his feelings. "Watch and Learn" was a story where Poof broke up with Goldie, only to take her back almost immediately.

- Anti-Cosmo has bipolar disorder (hand in hand with mania, depression, dissociation, and hypersexuality). Specifically, he has a parallel of it that applies to his specific species- In-universe, he has multiple diagnoses for his condition.

Anti-Fairies refer to him as "having a lightning spirit in his head" (and those he grew up with used they/them pronouns for Anti-Cosmo in his youth because of this, in accordance with Anti-Fairy culture). Fairies diagnose him as "being a Fairy in an Anti-Fairy's body" since his mood changes are arguably similar to those of a drone without pheromone exposure.

In Fairy terms, Anti-Cosmo has divus displacement disorder, which is treated by rubbing pheromones on his face every day. This is referenced again in the sideblog post I'm putting up tomorrow (about pheromones), but Anti-Cosmo throws off a lot of people because he always smells different due to those pheromones. Fairies consider him to have a shifting identity and don't trust him.

- Anti-Cosmo's mother (Anti-Florensa) and brother (Anti-Robin Jr.) have a magical parallel of schizophrenia. His brother experiences hallucinations of the past while his mother has hallucinations about different future timelines.

Anti-Cosmo had a bad falling out with his brother around the time he figured out who he's a reincarnation of (Frayed Knots), as Anti-Robin's struggle to remember who Anti-Cosmo is in this lifetime (and react to him appropriately) strained their relationship.

In Anti-Fairy culture, they're also considered to have their souls entangled with nature spirits and are referred to as they/them by many people (though their enjoyment of being addressed that way fluctuates).

- Foop has dissociative identity disorder. I don't really have anything more to say about it. Lots of trauma going on there. Definitely some PTSD. And again, as an Anti-Fairy, his culture also diagnoses him as having a nature spirit tangled with his soul.

Unfortunately, Foop doesn't get a lot of the help he needs because Anti-Fairies tend to wave his situation off as a genetic condition rather than something trauma-related, seeing as several members of his family tree are also diagnosed with nature spirit conditions. This actually plays into why Foop connects with Fairy culture in a lot of ways (and why he has a pixie therapist, not an Anti-Fairy one).

- I think Poof has a little PTSD too and/or some anxiety, seeing as he had a panic attack at the end of "All I Ever Wanted" when talking about life with Goldie.

- Two characters of mine (a fairy named Rupert Roebeam and a pixie named Walter Keefe) have dysolfactya, which is a parallel of dyslexia I created for the inability to organize scents in your head (Not exactly the easiest thing to live with in a world that relies on pheromones to keep you from wandering into dangerous areas).

- I... usually refer to Longwood's and Poof's lack of interest in preening as a parallel of asexuality for a world where licking necks and faces is a big deal, but it's kind of interesting to think about. In-universe, they'd probably be diagnosed in some medical or psychological way.

Very pre-DSM update vibes, which absolutely fits the time period I have the cloudlands set in. Something akin to "diagnosed with critically low libido" for sure, but for licking.

- H.P. has OCD (Imo, this is implied by the song he sings in the Musical about how he doesn't hate the Fairies and doesn't want to take over, but can't stop himself from doing so because he "must cater" to his urge to be "the world's administrator," not to mention his insistence on 37-year plans).

He hates untidy notes- There are several scenes where he rewrites his entire note page because he doesn't like marks on his notes (including crossed-out words). He also has issues with lying and his athazagoraphobia (fear of being forgotten), leading to the winning combo of making it explicitly clear when he plans to enact a takeover plan. There's a whole thing about how he has to justify his takeovers in terms of "It's their fault for not stopping me; I warned them I'd do it."

H.P. also experienced zoochosis during his time at the Eros Nest (zoo run by Cupid's family), leading to repetitive behaviors with no clear end goal. That probably affects him even now in a PTSD-adjacent way.

There might be characters I didn't mention - I feel like I'm blanking on something Anti-Marigold experiences - but those are the ones that come to mind for FOP 'fics!

#Me holding 2 characters & looking back and forth in surprise between the list of neurodivergent conditions and them #“Can't believe these two don't count. I am a fool.”#FAIRIES!#ridwriting #asks #idk if I want to add character tags but maybe later #Cherry lemon ship tag #Long post

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4n0therp4intb4llepis0de · 9 months ago

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I genuinely have no clue if its the same in the original version of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee but in my school’s version, during the I Love You song, William Barfee actually sang too on the line “I love you, I love you, I love everything about you dear, And I swear it’s true, I love you” and that means so much to me. He didnt get up and start singing with her parents or anything, he stayed sitting down, but he fixed his posture, tapped his foot to the beat and sang it and stared at her the whole time. Seriously the person that played him (i wont be saying their name for privacy reasons) did amazing. They understood the assignment fr.

#the 25th annual putnam county spelling bee #william barfee #olive ostrovsky

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bolognamayhem117 · 3 months ago

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Title: Rat-holed Memories.

Length: 4500 words

POV: Astarion

Pairing: Astarion/M!Elf!Tav(Rorik), rogue/paladin

Rating: MATURE 18+

Themes: mlm, consent, clarity of expectations, dissociation, manipulation, setting boundaries, light erotica, internal conflict.

Content Warnings: References to rape, incest, broken family dynamics, murder, slavery, mild knife play, anger, emotional outbursts.

Author notes: First and foremost, I created this character on my first playthrough after Robert and I bought the game a year ago. I picked up the controller with zero knowledge of the game's contents after being told you could play as a vampire. I said "That's bold of the developer, fuck it, I'll make Rorik's dumb ass and Smegol my way through the forgotten realms or whatever..." Turns out the person who told me that was referencing the Astarion Origin playthrough. I said "Screw It I'm Doing It Anyway! With the power of IMAGINATION." To my delight and surprise it really wasn't all that hard to use paladin spells, items, scroll hoarding, and armor to very closely model the homebrew build of Rorik the Degenerate Dhampir Sun Worshipping Paladin. He has his own issues which this ficlet hints at. He's cringe, be gentle.

@ghostkingart wrote a post desiring that the fandom wrote more fic about Astarion being denied intimacy due to concerns about intent and whether he's actually in the headspace to do so, with emphasis on his canon tendancy to go somewhere "a million realms away". I thought I could oblige. Digging in my docs for inspiration revealed that I'd basically already written this exact piece, give or take a few details. Decided to put on the Big Boy pants and be brave enough to post this.

I think healing is going to be messy for him. He's a big personality and these are some big complex feelings for a man who's been on the world's shortest leash for 200 years and also has had to solve every problem with either his body or a blade.

This fic also heavily implies that some healing and learning has already taken place so bear with me. Enjoy

“I don't know. It's veiled from me… I can't remember that clearly. Just. Parts… I think so.” Rorik told Astarion.

"Nothing? You remember nothing of circumstance or even who delegated to you at all?” Astarion scoffed and crossed his arms.

Astarion had been warned that some questions he might have may not have much of an answer, for Rorik was good at burying memories too sharp to hold. Knowing of the predilection toward purposeful forgetfulness didn't make this conversation any less frustrating. He wanted to know if Rorik had ever been sent to Baldur's Gate on loan, as Rainar often ordered him to do if a nobleman or another vampire lord bid high enough. He said he'd been to the city during that time, but maintained that he couldn't remember why.

“You want to know if Cazador ever paid Rainar to have someone vanish, don't you?” Rorik asked a new question rather than answer one they both knew the answer to.

“You told me the name Cazador Szarr was familiar, once.” Astarion probed.

“It is.”

“Then you should understand why that would concern me.”

"I do.” Rorik assured him with a single nod as he half-dozed, sprawled on his back.

Silence fell upon them as they lay still but restless in Astarion's slightly tidier than usual tent. Fitting two bedrolls in it necessitated some level of order. Frankly, Astarion hid the trash and used glassware behind his temporary abode. Rorik probably knew where the mess was, but said nothing.

“What would you say if you found out tomorrow that we passed like ships in the night long ago? What would it change?” Rorik inquired, appearing curious toward the demeanor of the bees in Astarion's bonnet.

“I'd ask what Cazador would have paid to have you do. I have to lay there, every damn night, wondering if that bastard sent the Gur down the street where I lost everything. It could just as easily have been you.” Astarion explained irritably. Sometimes Astarion felt like he had to spoon feed Rorik his thoughts. He should be able to string together the pieces by now.

"I have an opinion, Astarion, but it might not be a thought you want reinforced.” Rorik offered with a warning.

“give it.”

The dhampir spoke as if reading off law rather than opinion, the gravity of his tone leaving little room for argument. “Vampires are known to stalk a target for days. You should know, to a point. But lords, or true vampires, looking to create spawn for their own uses are different. They assign much, although sometimes arbitrary or even nonsensical, ritual to their pursuit. I'm certain, if he didn't send the Gur himself, he was already watching your every move for months.”

“...You're telling me he was inevitable.” Astarion muttered with venom and a curl of his upper lip.

“...I'm saying: vampire lords aren't spontaneous.” Rorik clarified.

“Well, all I'm saying is: you're missing my point. I wish you remembered. So I could be sure.” Astarion complained with a flick of his hands in the air above them.

“If it reassures you at all, I know for a fact that Cazador didn't send me. I'd have proper fucking killed you too completely to bring back.” Rorik abruptly stated.

“What!? Exactly what makes you so sure of that.” Astarion spat.

“Beating the guts out of a magistrate but not enough that a vampire cannot turn him sounds like a miserably delicate chore… I was never bought for things like that. I'm too heavy handed.” Rorik asserted bluntly.

In mostly mock hurt, Astarion went on the defensive. “No, I mean: what in the hells makes you think I was an easy mark?”

“Hmm? How much do you weigh?”

“Eh?”

Rorik sat erect to turn and loom over Astarion, arms caging the other as he held himself up with palms pressed flat to the floor by each of the elf’s shoulders.

He huffed through a smile full of sabers, he was about to tease, “Couple sacks of grain, if you were soaking wet, I’d guess. I could toss you over my shoulder and run up a hill without losing my breath. I imagine you wielded a quill and inkpot then. The sharpest thing in your arsenal might've been a letter opener.”

How dare this often bald cunt of a man wear that disgustingly smug grin, smear insults, and manage to be bizarrely charming all the while?

“Wrong,” Astarion rebutted, “men of Baldur's Gate are required starting at age nine to learn archery, and it is short sighted for an individual of my former station not to be prepared for scorned citizens challenging him to a duel over an unfavorable ruling. You would've bitten off more than you thought.” Astarion stubbornly asserted, completely guessing although he wouldn't admit that. He had no idea what he used to do in his spare time as a mortal, or where he lived, or even what his favorite food used to be…

“Hmm, you make a good argument, sure. But your hands wouldn't have known much hardship. Could they have fended off these ragged mits?” Rorik's right hand slid against the reed mat until fingertips found Astarion's elbow, from there encircling his forearm and following its shape until he met a wrist, then the hand he meant to squeeze.

Rorik's hands were square in their shapes, knuckles scarred until the skin remained thick and rough, crooked fingers from many breaks, and strange knots of bone that betrayed how many times he'd fractured his dominant hand as he gripped his sword and struck a shield or armor rather than flesh and bone. Astarion could feel every callus like a knot under the skin of Rorik's leathery palm. Their textures were jagged and would pull runs in fine silk.

Such a gnarled paw might've repelled Astarion a month ago. His always empty guts used to twist at the touch of a victim with hands like these. Those nights and those marks did feel as though they pulled vicious runs in the silk of his skin.

Rorik was just, as per fucking usual, the one outlier. Terrible hands on him, but they squeezed his fingers carefully, they were almost warm, and their textures were becoming nuanced to Astarion's touch. He was starting to think, perhaps, if you queued up ten men of the sword, whose hands were all terrible, he could pick out Rorik's while blindfolded.

He brought Astarion's knuckles to his lips, dragging them across his cheek with a sigh that teased a quick flash of his maw of ruthless thorns.

Rorik's eyes flickered an uncanny glimmer from the candlestick glow, the eyes of a smitten predator fixed to Astarion's equally haunting gaze.

“So soft now, softer still long ago I bet, but not as soft as your eyes.” Rorik cooed down to him from behind a finger he selected to kiss.

It made Astarion's throat itch dryly to hear that. His thirst always doubled when Rorik spoke of his eyes.

The bastard grinned against his hand with too many teeth showing. Rorik's way of flirting and giving a compliment was very different from Astarion's well practiced methods. He was much too frank. Rough cut gems was what the rogue called these moments in the relative privacy of his thoughts. Rorik was getting too cocky, however, so strange charms couldn't go unpunished.

Astarion hooked a heel into Rorik's knee, kicking that load bearing joint out from under him and destabilizing him just enough that the edge of a palm clapped around his jaw easily pulled him over. This allowed Astarion to roll with him, reversing the pin. His dagger, kept tucked under his pillow, was gathered in the lightning swipe of searching fingers and brandished at Rorik's jugular.

And Rorik? He simply went limp and chuckled. The Jackass had offered no resistance and gone slack under him, hands thrown back in surrender. It offended Astarion to be allowed to win their grapple, but Rorik's implicit trust in spite of the blade threatening him always made Astarion ache somehow. The inveterate crank under him snapped his jaws at anything that pressed his boundaries, but never Astarion. Adorable Idiot. To be fair, Rorik knew that these jabs and tussles were only fun and games.

“I was not entirely defenseless, and certainly no guileless lamb. Besides, you were no different than a spaw- pardon, but you were under the complete control of Rainar. If you were ordered to destroy a man without outright killing him, you’d have no choice but to comply.”

“I think you'd remember me. I'm not something you'd mistake for Gur. Unlike some people, I shall not name them, I actually look like an undead wretch.” Rorik shook his head -foolish to do with a blade pressed near to skin- and laughed softly against the cold kiss of Astarion's dagger.

The way the apple of his throat bobbed under the razor edge could wring any vampire’s stomach with hunger.

“...True, but not quite so any longer.” Astarion dragged a finger led by a languid arm from Rorik's navel to the space under his chin.

He meant to tilt this face for a closer appraisal. Rorik's expression changed, glazing over as Astarion's thumb followed the shape of his lower lip.

“You've turned rather pink since we began this little jaunt,” Astarion reminded him.

Interesting creatures, dhampirs. One foot in the grave at all times and a hand clawing a stubborn grip on life. Apparently, if they've been behaving like their undead half they will look the part, but Astarion had yet to observe Rorik feeding. That abstinence from the sanguine was reflected in his freckled, peachy skin. He might've been a touch sunburned across the bridge of his nose and the tip of each notched ear.

Rorik gazed up at Astarion, eyes searching, questing about his shapes. He stared as though he were looking upon that sun god he claimed not to love. Silly beastly thing. Blindly devoted damn fool.

“...Would you let me kiss you?” Rorik breathed.

What could one more impossible moment hurt? Who knew when Rorik would wake up and realize Astarion had no precious light to offer him?

“Mm, just this once, darling,” Astarion hummed with lips pulling into a loose smile. It was his turn to tease.

Rorik waited so very patiently, licking his scar streaked lips with what could be perceived as lewd eagerness, but eyes wide and full of something else that called softly.

Astarion retracted the dagger, slowly, making a show of it as he held it away from their bodies. Then, Casually, as he leaned back and settled his weight over Roriks lap, he allowed the blade to slip from his fingers and pierce the mats and dirt below. He left it sticking there, at the ready, but easily forgotten as he pitched forward to claim his companion's delectable mouth.

Rorik had tried to lift himself to greet Astarion, but palms clapped over his shoulders sent him back to the floor with a hollow thud resonating from his chest. The dhampir let slip the faintest moan of approval as his jaws parted for Astarion, offering the warmth within and the taste of his nightly herb brew. His arms wove themselves all about high elf.

Rorik always squeezed, held, stroked the rogue. It briefly repulsed Astarion that first time, when Rorik held so tightly and explored him so earnestly, but that had changed. The paladin longed to be close. He didn't want Astarion's body, Rorik wanted Astarion. That came with its own new form of revulsion. How could Rorik's standards be so low that he actually wanted all of the filth under Astarion's perfect surface?

Astarion knew the answer to that. He winced silently and masked the upset by delving deeper into the pleasures of Rorik's gasping mouth the moment he was done stealing a breath.

The ex-wife, Zarla, must surely be why Rorik found Astarion an acceptable partner. Astarion himself had uttered the perfect analogy for it once before. When you're accustomed to drinking from the sewer, even plonk is a marked improvement.

Anything at all must be better than being forced to swallow every last drop of misery to survive a borderline incestuous arranged marriage to a complete and whole nightmare of a woman.

Rough fingers massaged up the back of Astarion's neck, soon cradling the back of his head. Rorik seemed to like playing in his hair, since he had none of his own until very recently.

The moment Astarion thought of it, he moved to push his fingers though that scant half-inch of strawberry blond. Rorik had still been shorn up top the last time they… But he'd thought about it, curling his fingers in it, gripping it so tight, using it to shove Rorik's keening face in the pillow to muffle him.

Once, it was their second late night encounter, Rorik had mewled things in a tongue Astarion didn't know, both betraying the wellspring of his faint accent and revealing his patron god. A heathen sun diety which pre-dated Lathandor. That night many moons ago, Astarion had delighted in watching the paladin slap both hands over his gaped jaws to keep that holy name out of his mouth while he behaved profanely.

All Astarion could think about was gripping that short ginger crown and pulling Rorik’s head up from a pillow to hear his name mingling with half formed prayer. Oh, the things which come unraveled from Rorik's disciplined tongue when Astarion fucked him were always delectable. There was something sinfully gratifying in defiling a holy man. It must be the same thing which kept Rorik coming back for more and more of Astarion. He must crave to be engulfed by the elf’s tainted touch, like an addict who craved the deadly bliss in his own destruction.

Astarion slipped his curious tongue between the split halves of Rorik's. Maybe after, he'd ask why the man had his tongue sliced. Could be a faith thing, or perhaps a fun story, but hopefully not another rat-holed memory from worse times. He set aside the thought and chose instead to be gratified in the way Rorik arched under him.

Rorik's hands curled in hair and slid down Astarion’s spine, but that left claw hesitated at his waistband and instead formed a self-restraining fist in the elf's untucked shirt. No, no, he wanted Rorik to go further. He wanted to give Rorik his hit of destroying bliss, keep him close, keep him asleep and unaware of how unfit his favorite “pain in the ass” was for him.

His guts were grinding acid at the wolves playing tug-o-war in his silent chest. Rorik aroused Astarion's dead flesh and dead heart, that was true, but it repulsed him that the only catharsis he could summon for that were the things he could do to Rorik's flesh to lure him closer. It made it feel like working one of his marks, the men and women who’d walk and blush at his side without knowing they were good as dead. This felt like raping himself and Rorik with a predatory false self.

Astarion wanted to sink through the floor into the dirt and become beetle shit, he wanted to make Rorik wail his name, and he wanted to drag all of the beauty in the world through the tar in his soul for revenge. He hated feeling it all at the same time, but most of all, his worm-holed brain screamed to keep Rorik in place, with him, blind to his truth but with him.

Gods, five minutes ago he'd accused Rorik of potentially being involved in his murder, then held him at knifepoint while the fool giggled at the game. It was only a matter of time before he saw it all for what it was. The flailing of some irreversibly ruined creature. But he could keep Rorik coming back...

I just need a little more. Stay a little longer. A few more moments to last me once you-

Astarion flattened himself to Rorik's sprawled body to let him feel the arousal he’d inspired. Putrid. Rorik's lips stretched open to drag in a much needed breath, face screwing up as his head fell back while he was ground upon. He submitted to the desire to crush Astarion closer. His arms would snap taut about Astarion so fast when he became overcome by desire. This yearning squeeze was the signal of victory for Astarion every time. He'd won. Rorik was his. He'd pushed him to the-

Rorik broke from the embrace of their lips and turned his face away, sucking down two great breaths between his words “Solan's tits… Astarion?... Astarion, Wait.”

Rorik's arms loosened from him, then carefully lifted away. He put them at his sides and flattened his hands against the reed mat in a calculated manner. Astarion's command over the situation had slipped away. He could feel warm breath heating his cheek and sense eyes trying to find his own. Astarion didn't meet the other's gaze, he couldn't because he didn't want to see Rorik's bloody concern. It was worse than the most depraved leer.

“What? Darling, you're souring the mood. Wouldn't you rather…” Astarion tried to put them back on course by laying a perfectly placed kiss at the space just under Rorik's right ear.

Predictably, the man shivered at that delicate affection and his hands clapped over Astarion's thighs to apply their crushing squeeze of approval. Gods, you're easy. Right back on the road, like recalling a loyal mutt gone sniffing too far ahea-

The thought nauseated him the moment it completed itself in his head, comparing Rorik to an animal to be commanded. The revulsion turning his stomach gave him pause, stopping him dead in the middle of suckling a decadently soft earlobe between his lips to hiss mournfully.

Rorik's hands pressed over the mound of each shoulder. He pushed slowly, putting space between them. Chaos erupted within Astarion like a crowd of men shouting over one another.

No! Not yet… Gods, thank you… Don't leave!?

Astarion was made to sit up with Rorik as he rose from the mat. He was then seated in the paladin's lap, but there was nothing titillating about it. Rorik's eyes bore through him like drill heads. His stare made Astarion feel naked when they were like that, stripped, but not erotically. He just saw him. Through him. Into him. He used to hate that and it still unnerved him, being seen.

“Astarion, let's talk about this first,” He spoke much too softly, like addressing a sniffling child. It made Astarion feel infantile.

“Talk? Why? Don't you want to forget where we are? For just a moment?” Astarion pivoted, sliding a palm over Rorik's cheek to hook his fingers over the back of his neck, bringing him close again.

If he kissed and nibbled just right, between the scars, Rorik would offer a feed. Bastard loved pain. Probably needed it to get off at this point. A bite would put a stop to this nonsense, all Astarion needed was permission. It was time to bring a sword to a knife fight.

“Ast-... Oh my….- wait, wait! No.” Rorik forced his hands between them again to put a foot of distance between his neck and Astarion's fangs.

Gods damn it. Astarion's stomach twisted, but not out of hunger, at the word no. A word he barely knew how to use. He couldn't ignore it. Rorik had refused him. He had to stop.

“Astarion, I don't-... I want to be told what you want. I don't want to guess. We agreed not to, I want to be sure this is really what you want.” Rorik told him, again too gently, and let his hands settle at either side of the other's waist.

“I would have thought I seemed damn sure of what I wanted eight seconds ago, but I'm starting to think you've gone and robbed me of even that!” Astarion swatted at Rorik's hands to banish them from his body and spat bitterly before he could think better of it.

He’d lost at his own game, all because he couldn't hold his disgust at bay anymore. Rorik must have sniffed it out. Bastard had ruined him. Taken away the one thing he truly was good at. Or good for.

Rorik said nothing and only looked at him, brows pinching and turning upward just as his eyes revealed his exhaustion. Astarion had to look away. It hurt. It was fucking agony to be looked at that way and see how lost Rorik appeared on what to do or say.

I'm projecting. Fuck.

No, Rorik knew exactly what he wanted to do. He'd wanted clarification on what Astarion wanted and expected and asked. Astarion on the other hand…

“I-... I don't know what I'm trying to do.” Astarion lied and told the truth at the same time. Felt disgusting, hiding intentions but admitting uncertainty in the same breath.

“What do you not want to do?” Rorik asked, but Astarion wasn't sure what to make of the phrasing.

Ah! Yes, a reference toward Astarion's lurid tendencies. Yes, he used to pretend to “want” just about anything to hook a mark and gain their implicit trust. Astarion's palm struck Rorik, albeit not as hard as he deserved, upon the cheek and jaw to shove him away. Bastard's hands clenched in his shirt on reflex, making escape more difficult than it should be. “The hells is that supposed to mean? Do I have to spell it out for you again?! I played the role of a prostitute. It was all lies and-”

“No no! I meant that: Sometimes it's easier to know what you don't want.” Rorik barely restrained a bellow as he rushed the words past the hand which muffled him. He continued, more mindful of his voice. “Which is. I don't know… Something to go on.”

Gods, Astarion loathed to do it, to let go of the misfired anger, but the wisdom Rorik spoke was sufficient. He felt foolish for the misunderstanding, too, and he burned with renewed anger and irritability. He knew one thing he didn't want, and it left him feeling that he appeared inordinately needy as he dropped his hands into his lap uselessly.

“I don't want to be alone… Tonight I mean. I don't want to be alone tonight.” Astarion admitted part of the problem, painfully.

“And I am happy to resolve that. Anything else you don't want?”

Astarion was reassured, a little. Trying to think about what he wanted was, indeed, fucking impossible. He was too shameful to admit that he was trying to pick up where he left off seducing Rorik for fear he would one day leave him in the absence of sex. Astarion tried to figure out how to tell enough of the truth not to hate himself.

“I don't want to… I don't want to hate it. Sleeping with you. I don't want sex. But I want it.” Astarion gripped Rorik's shoulders tightly and mimed jerking him close, but his eyes soon had to crush shut to hold back tears. “...But I can't. The thoughts, the loathing. It comes when I used to be able to just. Put myself away and do what I came to do.”

Rorik's hands covered the back of Astarion's fingers where they pressed red marks into his shoulders, pulling them down to be held tightly between their bodies. Thumbs stroked over his knuckles so tenderly. It was far more than Astarion felt he deserved.

Rorik kept his eyes on their entwined hands. “I understand, I think.”

“I don't… Want to treat you like a victim. But I don't want you to..-” he lost his words in his throat.

Rorik lifted Astarion's left hand to his lips, as he so often did. He was starting to wonder if the man had a hand fetish. “You can tell me anything, I swear that I'll try to understand. What don't you want me to do?”

Why are you good to me?

“I just. Don't want you to leave… Tonight.” Astarion wasn't ready to tell Rorik that he was waiting for him to wake up one morning jaded and too exhausted from this game to carry on playing it.

lips pressed to the inside of Astarion's wrist. “Then you have me until Sol calls me to prayer, and then you'll have me again if you wish it. And you may do, or not do, whatever you like with me... And changing your mind is perfectly legal."

That made Astarion's chest tight. Bastard was getting too good at quelling the storms in Astarion's head. It scared him, the possibility that Rorik could use that new talent to manipulate just as he'd been manipulated. Drag along the carrot of innocent affections. But, to gain what? Rorik had offered it countless times with almost no gain. He just didn't seem work the way Astarion did.

I don't deserve this.

At least, for now, Astarion knew what he wanted after a moment more watching Rorik tenderly worship his hand with a savage mouth. He longed for more of that specifically.

“Would you let me kiss you?” He parroted, then added after another moment of careful thought, “...I want that. With certainty. I want to kiss you until our lips bruise, actually,”

Rorik smiled in Astarion's favorite way. His head tipped to one side while a silent laugh left him through a grin which pressed his eyes closed.

“I could gladly piss away the whole night with that if you let me, you should be careful what you wish for,”

“Oh? You're dealing with a professional. I doubt you'd last ten minutes.” Astarion goaded.

“Sounds like grounds for a bet. Loser has to be the big spoon.” Rorik taunted back.

“Done,”

Arms clenched tight under Astarion's weight, scooping him under the rump to smash him close. Rorik slotted his face under Astarion's chin for a kiss at the join of his clavicle.

“Cheeky,”

“You never specified where I was to kiss you, care to offer further instruction?” Rorik murmured into his skin.

Smart bastard, “You're tricking me into setting boundaries again, aren't you?”

“Yep,” was Rorik's shameless, one syllable admission of guilt.

“Fine, nothing below the neck.”

“And not my ears, please.” Rorik added.

“... Because that gets you-”

“Unreasonably hot, yes.”

A kiss brushed under Astarion's left jaw as Rorik's arms relaxed to let him sink again. It made him shiver.

“So, we have an accord?” Astarion had to beg one more assurance just because he knew he'd be given it freely.

Lips pressed dryly over his own before he got his answer. “Yes,” he heard right before another peck landed right between his eyes, followed by a chuckle.

“This isn't exactly what I had in mind.” Astarion complained softly, unsure what to do with the squirmy, restless feeling in his core. Rorik was being too endearing. That's what got them into this mess. Fucker kept making him feel- well…. Making him feel.

“Then, I will require another round of your instruction on how, precisely, Mr. Ancunin wishes to be kissed?”

“Gladly.” Astarion promised.

#astarion ancunin #astarion #bg3 tav #tav(rorik)#fanfiction #mature themes #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfic #male tav

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