#so many details to hoard

[snekdood]

ppl used to try to make fun of me for using zoo tycoon as a reference for animal shit and idk man like.... the game is literally built off the idea of educating you, it literally has an encyclopedia that tells you not only about the animals but also about the plants too. yeah its a tycoon game but thats only if you focus on it in that sense, personally i dont, I've always liked playing it to learn more about the behaviors of animals. sure things are generalized here and there and not 100% accurate- partially bc it was made in the early 2000's and we've probably acquired more info since then, but regardless its still pretty solid and taught me a lot about certain animals growing up, which other tycoon games dont really offer... anything teach-worthy.

[rainydetectiveglitter]

What Not to Do Based on Your Chiron Placement

Chiron represents our deepest wound and the part of us that feels unhealed, rejected, or insecure no matter how much we try to “fix” it. Instead of embracing and working through this pain, many people unconsciously overcompensate, self-sabotage, or fall into toxic patterns.

I've been thinking about Chiron a lot lately lol and have been diving deeper into it. If you’ve ever wondered why certain issues keep showing up in your life, your Chiron placement could be the key. It might reveal where you're unintentionally making things worse.

So here’s what not to do based on your Chiron’s house placement. Take what connects, leave what doesn’t.

Chiron in the 1st House (Aries)

❌ What Not to Do:

Create a false persona to hide insecurity.

Brag or exaggerate to feel superior.

Constantly compare yourself to others.

Let self-doubt stop you from being authentic.

💡 The Mistake: Trying to “prove” you’re important instead of embracing who you are.

Chiron in the 2nd House (Taurus)

❌ What Not to Do:

Base your value on money, status, or possessions.

Hoard wealth or fear spending out of insecurity.

Self-sabotage financially because you feel undeserving.

Believe that financial success = personal worth.

💡 The Mistake: Thinking material security will fix inner insecurity.

Chiron in the 3rd House (Gemini)

❌ What Not to Do:

Over-explain or talk over people to sound smart.

Fear speaking up because you doubt yourself.

Interrupt conversations to prove your point.

Assume no one understands you, so you stay silent.

💡 The Mistake: Believing you have to “perform” intelligence instead of trusting your natural voice.

Chiron in the 4th House (Cancer)

❌ What Not to Do:

Stay stuck in toxic family patterns out of obligation.

Cut off family without processing your emotions.

Believe you’ll never create a loving home for yourself.

Seek comfort in nostalgia instead of healing old wounds.

💡 The Mistake: Thinking you can either erase your past or be trapped by it—when the real power lies in healing it.

Chiron in the 5th House (Leo)

❌ What Not to Do:

Seek validation through performance or creativity.

Avoid creative risks out of fear of rejection.

Compare yourself to others and feel inadequate.

Pretend you don’t care when deep down you do.

💡 The Mistake: Thinking you need applause to be worthy when true creativity is about self-expression, not approval.

Chiron in the 6th House (Virgo)

❌ What Not to Do:

Work yourself to exhaustion to prove your worth.

Obsess over routines or control every detail.

Fear structure and avoid responsibility.

Believe you’re only valuable if you’re useful.

💡 The Mistake: Tying your self-worth to productivity instead of valuing yourself as you are.

Chiron in the 7th House (Libra)

❌ What Not to Do:

Seek constant validation from relationships.

Fear intimacy and push people away.

Let relationships define your self-worth.

Stay in toxic partnerships just to avoid being alone.

💡 The Mistake: Thinking someone else will complete you when true healing starts within.

Chiron in the 8th House (Scorpio)

❌ What Not to Do:

Fear vulnerability and avoid deep emotional connections.

Use power or manipulation to control others.

Obsess over betrayal and hold grudges.

Avoid intimacy because of past wounds.

💡 The Mistake: Believing power comes from control when true strength is found in trust and surrender.

Chiron in the 9th House (Sagittarius)

❌ What Not to Do:

Play the guru or act like a know-it-all.

Overcompensate with degrees, travel, or “big” experiences.

Dismiss other perspectives out of insecurity.

Give up on searching for meaning out of fear you’ll never find it.

💡 The Mistake: Thinking external knowledge will replace internal wisdom.

Chiron in the 10th House (Capricorn)

❌ What Not to Do:

Define yourself by success or status.

Fear failure so much that you don’t even try.

Chase validation through your career.

Let others’ opinions dictate your path.

💡 The Mistake: Thinking your legacy is only tied to external achievements when true impact comes from authenticity.

Chiron in the 11th House (Aquarius)

❌ What Not to Do:

Try too hard to be liked and accepted.

Avoid social connections out of fear of rejection.

Change yourself to fit in.

Seek approval from the wrong crowds.

💡 The Mistake: Believing you have to earn belonging when true connection happens by being yourself.

Chiron in the 12th House (Pisces)

❌ What Not to Do:

Suppress your pain or avoid deep healing.

Escape into addictions or unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Over-identify with suffering or play the martyr.

Avoid spirituality or dive too deep into illusion.

💡 The Mistake: Thinking you have to either avoid your wounds or be consumed by them—when true healing comes from integration.

No matter where your Chiron is, the biggest mistake is trying to cover up the wound instead of working through it. True healing happens when you stop proving, stop performing, and start accepting yourself. flaws and all.

[temiizpalace]

☆┊MONOPOLY? MONOPOLY.

SUMMARY: monopoly. the game infamous for destroying friendships and relationships. it wouldn’t hurt to play a game or two, right? how do your acquaintances suffer during the game?

CHARACTERS: all dorms (+grim)

GENRE: fluff, crackfic

WARNINGS: cursing

PLATONIC or ROMANTIC, PLATONIC ORTHO + GRIM

NOTES: my sister punched me in the stomach cause i bought her property

reader gender is not specified, reader is yuu

SPENT THE ENTIRETY OF THE GAME IN JAIL

no matter what they did, no matter how many times they wished to try, they always landed in jail. even when he’s finally free after seven knows many turns, he’ll pick up a card, and it says go to jail. jeez, what did he do?! this game sucks, i don’t see the appeal. is he so much of a bad guy the game wants to keep him locked up forever? its hurting his feelings. why do you want to keep playing?? can he just quit? he doesn’t wanna play anymore. fine. he’ll keep playing. just make sure you win or else you’ll get an earful..

spoiler alert: you lose and now he’s disappointed

riddle, deuce, jack, malleus, silver

LAUGHS LIKE AN EVIL VILLAIN WHEN SOMEONE LANDS ON THEIR PROPERTY

oh dear, how poor and unfortunate are you? such a shame really. oh well! fork over the cash, prefect! it’s nothing personal, just a simple game of monopoly. you can spare a couple hundreds, couldn’t you? surely you weren’t planning on winning, right? all is fair in love and war they say! he’ll make it up to you later, but it’s just better to pay— what’s that? no money? BANKRUPT? how sad. you snooze ya lose. better luck next time, you were no match to begin with. he’ll take what’s left, thanks! much appreciated 🫶🫶

he’s just competitive he’s sorry please don’t hit him with the board please— NONO WAIT—

ace, ruggie, azul, jade, jamil, epel, idia, lilia, grim

IS HOARDING ALL THE LITTLE HOUSES

they’re so cute! not very detailed, but he can make a nice village out of them! oh. you need them for the game? can’t you use.. something else? please let him keep them. if you want them back you’ll have to pry them from his cold dead hands. here, use these thumbtacks! they basically look like houses! why’s he so attached to the tiny plastic primary colored houses from this game? unsure, but he likes em. hands off <3

if you play on the floor watch your step

deuce, cater, floyd, kalim, rook, sebek, grim

USING THEIR WAD OF MONOPOLY MONEY AS A FAN

at first, this game seemed.. childish. however, who is he to say no to victory? just look at all the currency he holds in the palm of his hand, practically basking in wealth. tsk, tsk, wipe that pouty face off of your face prefect. he’s just playing the game after all. not his fault you can’t save your money. my, my, it’s getting hot! excuse him as he fans himself off with his hundred dollar bills. he would share if he can, but it looks like his hands are full. needless to say, he is suffering from success over here.

ace, cater, leona, ruggie, azul, jade, floyd, jamil, vil, epel, idia, ortho, lilia, grim (they all on my list. better watch themself)

BRINGS UP PERSONAL SHIT DURING AN ARGUMENT OVER PROPERTY

will bring up moments from each others past mid-argument cause they’re just petty like that. don’t look at him like that! not his fault you decided to ramble about your middle school days— HEY. DONT YOU DARE BRING UP HIS BABY PHOTOS. NO. NOT THE PHOTO. NONONONONONONONONO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

pieces are in fact flung to the ground

ace, leona, azul, epel, sebek, grim

ABOUT TO FLIP THE BOARD

barely holding it together. he is this close to just grabbing the board and throwing it to the ground. he wants to tear up the currency and toss it down the paper shredder while screaming his lungs out. this game is absolutely SHIT. don’t ever bring it in his sights again, he will lose it.

riddle, jamil (depends), epel, sebek, grim

TRYING TO PLAY NORMALLY

it’s just a game guys, relax. sure, it’s not ideal, but let’s not try stabbing each other over a simple game of dice and money? seriously, it’s not that deep. as long as you’re playing together, he’s having a fun time. that’s all that really matters to him in the end! you’re having fun, he’s having fun, it’s a win-win. while chaos ensues, he’s pretty good at being levelheaded and the voice of reason so hopefully it doesn’t blow up in his face.

trey, jack, silver

A/N: monopoly almost got my cousin divorced fun game 10/10 would play again. so many fics in the draft hopefully they come out soon 🧌🧌🧌

date published: 8/20/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[mechncheese]

What kind of brushed and programs do you use to draw?

I am nuts and I alternate between Clip Studio Paint and Procreate, the locker Prowl was drawn in MS Paint and I also do a lot of mixed media (traditional art touched up digitally)

I am a brush Fiend so I also alternate a lot between brushes if you're looking for a specific one you'll have to direct me to a specific drawing because I use waaayy too many

CSP brushes, I have two main ones

For Procreate, I am the Brush Final Boss, i hoard brushes like a dragon hoards gold, here are the main ones I use

Been obsessed with the Gombee brush from this brushpack recently ! It has this rough dotty feel, I love it

This one is also one of my favs, I use it a ton ! I customized a Syrup brush to give it a lot of texture

Also been using this one a lot, it's a custom brush made out of my TF oc's head silhouette

You can grab them both here if you so please

And where would I be without my beloved grain brushes ? I use them for all my backgrounds, gradients and highlights + halftone + grit brushes

This is all done with the lasso tool and grain brushes from this set

the dirty specks and details are from True Grit Supply's Procreate Texture Bundle

I do a ton mixed media as well

the lines are all traditionally done with a thin tipped sharpie, colors are done with highlighters and digitally corrected with the multiply layer and then layered on top with a paper texture + more gritty details from True Grit Supply's Procreate texture brushes again

My traditional tools are not as fancy, it's legit just all stuff I found on the ground

I was also recently gifted a ton of arteza watercolor brushes so I've been trying to utilize those as well, they're very fun !!

overall consensus, I do everything and strike fear into the hearts of many with my artistic process

[yanderecrazysie]

A Dragon's Hoard Part 2 (Yandere Malleus)

Title: A Dragon’s Hoard (Part 2)

Pairings: Yandere! Malleus Draconia x Female! Reader

AU: My Fantasy AU

WARNINGS: yandere themes, dead bodies

Part 1: here

You woke unsure of how long you had been asleep. There was no sunlight in your eyes, like there always was back in the fae kingdom. Deep inside a cave, you couldn’t tell if it was still night or a new day.

Deciding to check for yourself, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up. You still wore what you were wearing the night before- a fairly long, strapless dress made of palm leaves and woven flats. 

In any other cave, you would probably be shivering, your bare arms and ankles exposed to the air. However, the green crystals jutting out of the stone walls seemed to cast not only light but warmth as well.

At first, when you padded out of the alcove and into the main cave, you couldn’t see Malleus. His throne was empty and the piles of gold and gemstones remained untouched. Then, you spotted him, walking towards you with silent footsteps around the corner. 

“Did you sleep well?” the dragon asked you, coming to a stop a few feet away from you.

You nodded, ‘Yes. Um… what time is it?”

“The sun is high in the sky,” Malleus said with an amused smile, “You slept long. I wouldn’t expect anything else, after such a long journey.”

You nodded again, unsure of what to say.

Malleus lifted a black-gloved hand and motioned for you to follow him, “Come. I have prepared a meal for you.”

Knowing dragons were meat eaters, you were apprehensive to see what kind of meal he had prepared for you. Fae were all vegetarians, after all. He led you deeper into the cave and turned into a dark alcove.

In this “room” was a long table with chairs pulled close. There were no crystals on the wall, but there was a crystal standing straight up straight and tall as the tables centerpiece, casting a candlelight-like glow on the room.

At the foot of the table was a gold plate, a gold goblet with rubies encrusted in its carved pattern, and silver silverware. Upon the plate was a variety of fresh fruits and nuts, cozily placed in the crook of a lopsided loaf of bread. 

You could smell the fruit and warm bread from where you were standing and your mouth began to water. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were before seeing this delicious meal set out for you.

“I trust this will suffice?” Malleus asked. When you eagerly nodded, he continued, “I am unfamiliar with the needs of fae, so I will need you to correct me when necessary. However, I have studied all of the species in Wonderland, and know the basics of how to care for you.”

The statement seemed a little foreboding, but you were very thankful for the meal. “It’s perfect, thank you,” you said.

You pulled the chair from the table. There were carvings on the back of it, shapes of dragons in the clouds sticking out to you with great detail. The cushion was velvet-covered and cushy. Taking a seat, you tucked into your meal, biting into a juicy strawberry that spurted juices into your mouth and against your lips, turning them red.

Malleus watched you eat with an unwavering gaze, studying you in fascination as you chowed down on the meal as though it would be your last. Your teeth tore chunks of bread a little too large to be polite. Your wings fluttered in discomfort under Malleus’s stare, but you couldn’t care enough to slow down.

You finished with the nuts, cracking open their shells with the silver knife. As soon as you’d finished, Malleus began to speak, “Tell me, little fae, what brought you to break King Riddle’s rules? Not many fae are able to stand up to the king.”

You hesitated to answer, but finally settled on a safe response, “I didn’t agree with his asinine rules. The Great Ones may have all come up with rules for their descendants, but none set as many as the Queen of Hearts… They’re suffocating. All I wanted was a little freedom.”

Malleus tilted his head, “Freedom,” he echoed, “A noble choice, yet dangerous for a fae.”

You lowered your eyes, feeling the sting of tears in them. It was hard to believe you could never return to your little cottage in the confines of King Riddle’s castle. 

“That’s why I came here,” you said softly, “I thought I could find freedom on my own.”

Malleus chuckled softly, “Freedom is so delicate… oftentimes it is just an illusion.” You felt a little uncomfortable, especially as he continued, “Fear not, you are free from the fae court here. I protect what is mine.”

You met his emerald gaze, “What if I want to leave one day?”

Malleus’s expression froze and tightened. His features grew hard as he said in a deep and rumbling voice, “We shall cross that bridge when it comes to it, little fae.” Then, a smile graced his lips, “I believe that you will find there is no reason to leave soon enough.

The mark on the back of your hand pulsed faintly, as if agreeing with his words. You clenched that hand into a fist and looked down at the dragon carved into your skin.

“I have something to show you,” Malleus said, “A part of my hoard I believe you will find interesting.”

You pushed your chair out and stood up. Malleus was quick to push the chair back in its place and motioned, once again, for you to follow him. He led you even deeper into the cave, passing several alcoves on the way. This passage opened into a small cavern, the sheer amount of green, pulsing crystals causing a warmth that was almost uncomfortable.

As soon as you saw its contents, you screamed.

Skeletons piled high, along with rotting corpses. Whether there was nothing left on the bone, or just a scalp of dead hair or melting faces, they all still had clothing adorning their figures that told stories of what they once had been. 

One skeleton’s bottom half looked like fish bones and another had a spine that curled way too long, coiled over itself like a snake’s tail. Some wore black gothic dresses, reminiscent of vampires, while others wore leather like were-creatures. There were even one or two wearing dragon scales, like Malleus’s black-scaled cloak. None wore fae clothing.

“What is this place?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Malleus smiled and, in the bright glow of the green crystals, his face was lit up in a terrifying way, “This is the most precious part of my hoard. Treasures I’ve gathered over centuries.”

You were going to throw up. You clapped a hand over your mouth and began backing out of the cave, fear pulsing in your chest.

Malleus chuckled, “But these are mere trinkets compared to the treasure I’ve just added to my collection.”

His eyes looked at you with meaning and you let out a squeak of horror. You turned and ran, your wings fluttering madly, too stressed to actually take you off the ground. 

The cave twisted and turned. You could not sense the entrance anywhere, but still, you ran, terror speeding up your legs and filling your muscles with adrenaline. Tears spilled down your cheeks and strange little hiccups left your mouth.

Was he following you? You glanced back and could not see him. While looking back, you rammed your shoulder into a sharp turn and let out a squeal of pain. Stumbling slightly and holding your throbbing shoulder, you desperately looked for the exit.

Finally, as you rounded a corner, you realized you could see a light that wasn’t green. You sprinted out onto the ledge and crouched down. Your wings steadied and you took flight with a leap into the air. 

Suddenly, as if an invisible rope had wrapped itself around your hand, you cried out as a tightening feeling squashed your hand, the dragon on the back of your hand glowing with a green fire.

You were forcibly tugged backward so roughly that your wings folded in front of you and you plunged backwards back into the cave, hitting the stone wall so hard that you heard a crunch as one of your wings was caught between your back and the cave.

You slid down the wall and laid on the ground, panting from effort and terror. Your spine ached, your left wing was slightly bent, and the back of your head throbbed from where it hit the wall.

Malleus walked around the corner and into the sunlight, the scales on his cloak shimmering in the light. He walked over to your crumpled form and crouched down, petting your braided hair with a soft sigh.

“Do not fear,” he murmured, his voice soothing, “I will keep you safe. If you do not leave, you will never know hunger, pain, or loneliness ever again.”

You let out a sob and Malleus’s smile grew a little. “Why?” you asked him brokenly.

“You are the most precious addition to my hoard. More precious than gold or jewels…

…How could I ever let you go?”

[dekariosclan]

Hi!

I saw you had thoughts and recommendations for Dad Gale, which I LOVED.

I wondered if you had any thoughts and recs for... Er.. smutty Gale?

Asking for a friend.

( it's me, I am the friend )

Oh. Oh, sweet Anon! This is the equivalent of asking Smaug if he has a few shiny baubles that he might like to show off? 🙃

Here’s a fun fact about me: I have more BBC miniseries dvds than my local library. I have an entire bookcase dedicated to romance books. I am a romance addict. So, I hope you believe me when I tell you that the Gale smut I have collected is better written AND infinitely hotter than any of the published romance books I paid actual money for. I am not exaggerating. The writing talent in this community is absurd. Y’all are brilliant.

Anon, my friend, come and feast on the magnificent hoard I have collected!

18+ under the cut. (note: that’s both the age requirement AND the number of fic recommendations you are about to receive…)

Purple indicates Female Tav

Red indicates Male Tav

Green indicates Gender Neutral/no gender description

———

@senualothbrok has written so many incredible fics I don’t even know where to start, but in an attempt to keep this list at a manageable size I will only name three:

Gale and Tav use their Words to a very satisfying end

A Tight Fit gives Gale and Tav the chance to get to know one another intimately (whether they wanted to or not)

It’s a lazy morning in bed until Gale gets a little Carried Away (but Tav’s not complaining)

———

@sorceresssundries is a poetry master AND a master of regency-inspired Gale fics. The dashing Mister Dekarios would like to inquire as to whether or not you own a bodice? Because it’s about to get torn off:

Tav gets most deliciously Ruined by Mister Dekarios

A Heatwave gets Gale and Tav all hot n’ bothered

…and Tav gets very very wet in Downpour

———

@orangekittyenergy writes fire smut during the rare moments she is not busy creating absolutely stunning artwork:

Gale getting woken up with a bj

A lovely little ‘ficlet/smutlet’ featuring blindfolded Gale

Gale and Tav finally get to share Indulgent Desires after the orb is stabilized

———

@tumbleweed-run has an outstanding collection of Gale smut, including the incredible Sing Your Praises about a Tav with a praise kink, and Desserts, where Tav is…well…Gale’s dessert.

@lady-sapphyre’s Elerra helps God Gale remember all the mortal pleasures he sacrificed (and helps him come to his senses) in Divine Follies.

@wild-magic-oops wrote the lovely, lovely Worship in Moonlight where Gale gets a well-deserved bj on Mystra’s shrine.

@darlingdekarios proves Tav giving Gale a perfect day—followed by Gale giving Tav a perfect night—is the best thing.

@tociminna wrote about Gale having to…attend to some mortal needs in Pent.

Eternal_Starr on A03 wrote You are beautiful, like I’ve never seen, featuring Gale getting absolutely cherished.

@faerybella219 wrote a 5.3k word feast about Professor Gale coming home from a conference and receiving a very warm welcome. (featuring switch!Gale)

A03 author Arabellandry describes what happens when Gale calls Tav’s name at a rather inopportune moment—or perhaps the perfect moment? In peach, plum, earth, sun.

Vulkinreads on A03 wrote With thanks, Gale which explains in some detail how Gale and Tav stay warm on a cold winter’s night.

———

If anyone has any additional recommendations that I can add to my pile hoard collection please do add them in the comments! 🥰💜

[jmdbjk]

Jungkook telling it like it is...

He did tell Spotify that he'd use the blanket they gave him. Just not the way they probably thought he would: Jungkook's glossy black marble floor shows his bare feet prints on it and he used his Spotify blanket to clean the floor. He says he'll have to always wear socks or slippers. I can see him leaving a pile of toe socks at the door just for him to put on when he's in that room...

He says he briefly and unseriously considered quitting the business to be a full time cook. (JK, you can't do that, you have to make enough money to pay for the utilities and property taxes on your new fortress...) But that's his introvert kicking in, the routine, the comfort zone, the way his job holds his interest enough to make him want to keep doing it. But he is aware and he knows this about himself and knows he has to return to his "spot" as he called it.

He seems to accept the fact his place of residence is going to be known by the fans just like many other aspects of his life such as details of his military service. He seems to take it in stride but he also sets boundaries by asking fans to not come to his house and do not send packages, not only to his house but to his army base. He explains why, that he cannot accept them and that packages containing food are restricted. He clearly instructs to send letters to the company.

How do people know where he lives? Here's the answer, or at least part of it:

We all know if you spend time on Youtube the algorithm will feed you videos and channels similar to what you've watched. If you are restrained enough to limit your viewing to only BangtanTV I applaud you. But if you watch anything else, youtube will serve you similar. We all know that through the anecdotes of Armys talking about being flooded with edited, slo-mo shipping videos.

Personally, I like watching youtube channels that show walking tours of Seoul. The city captured my attention and I've learned so much about it. But because of this interest I have in Seoul and Korea, more "walking tour" and Korean travel type channels are suggested to me. Some are better than others. Some are actually run by K-Army. I am very interested in K-Armys' perspective about life in Seoul so I watch. We get to see the birthday cafe events and such that I'm probably never going to experience.

Inevitably one of these channels is going to walk by the members' homes... because they are Army and can. Streets are public. And this is how other people find out where the members live. The videos show that none of the homes are accessible. They are all behind walls and gates. None of the videos show hoards of fans congregated in front of the homes. The only place you ever see that is in front of the Hybe building.

Yes, it is controversial knowing these things but it is also one of those things that is almost unavoidable. What do I do with the information I gain by watching? Nothing. I satisfy my curiosity and move on.

Jungkook knows we are curious. He knows with his position in life there are things he cannot control and he's aware of it. It's pointless for him to pretend he isn't aware of this. That's why he sets boundaries. And he's very kind about it when he does set boundaries.

Are there bad actors out there who will take advantage of the knowledge? Of course. But that's on them. Are there people who will post every detail they learn? Of course. That's how the information spreads to other social media platforms.

Anyway... the Weverse translations are sort of skimming over what he says. There's a little bit of nuance being left out sometimes.

The Weverse English subs say "We'd sing it every day while taking showers." But Jungkook more accurately said: "We always sing together while taking a shower." (begins at 1:00:00)

The Weverse English subs say "Recently, with Jimin, now during our clean up time I finished up in the kitchen and came back up we talked a lot about music and we'd always be humming (he hums) and I'd go far away and sing songs (he gestures away from him). I'll try to practice more when I have time." But more accurately he said: "So these days I'm with Jimin and now when its personal maintenance time I go upstairs after finishing kitchen work. We talk a lot about singing and we're humming along to each other all the time (he hums) like that and we go far away and sing and stuff (he gestures away from him). I'll practice more in my spare time." (begins at 36:48)

The Weverse English subs say "I've been doing well with Jimin in my military life. I've been well." More accurately he said: "I'm/we are working hard and doing well in military life together with Jiminie-hyung. I'm doing well." (at 8:18)

He showed us his entertainment room, he clearly states he can't show us the upstairs but he does not give a reason why but as he talks he explains he has not "organized" his house. Maybe he won't show it because he doesn't want to or maybe he won't show it because in his opinion, its a mess right now. Regardless, its his choice what he wants to show us and we are privileged when he does so. I'd bet that at some point, we'll see his kitchen because he's Jungkook.

He talked about his job as a cook in the Army. He said he prepares many Korean dishes and they are either boiled or braised. He mentions that they cannot grill food. He says its not easy making large amounts of food. He says he does his best to make them tasty. I've noticed on the timeline the accounts that post military menus that on most days, meals include stews and soups so he is definitely learning how to cook a wide variety of dishes.

He sang about 30 songs including several off Golden. He sounded really good singing Standing Next to You, in fact, his off the cuff live singing of all the songs from his album was pretty exquisite even if he didn't sing most of the songs to the end.

He spoke with a slight reverence regarding only singing BTS songs with the rest of the members. It gave me the impression he knows it will be a special moment for them as well as us.

He picked at his lip, bit his cuticles, touched his lips, scratched his head under his beanie and yawned many times before finally telling us good night. Until we see you again soon, Kookie! Be safe and keep practicing with Jimin!

[revelboo]

Any updates with swindles unfortunate human? I'm still utterly laughing at the improvised "I will lay eggs in you" lie sjdndjdnf

They’re trying to reach an agreement. 18+

Hangman Pt 2

Swindle x Reader

• “What do you mean ‘no?’ Babe, I’m trying to make you a star. Rich and famous.” And himself even richer. Swindle bites back a growl at your little scowl. “Not just Earth famous, intergalactic.” Reaching he tips your chin up with a servo, offering you his best smile. “I can do that for you, but you gotta help me.” Dangling the outfit from the servos of his other hand, he watches you fold your arms. “Would I lie to you, babe?”

• Almost positive he would, you scrunch your nose at him and that ridiculous bit of lace he wants you to wear. Pretty sure that it’s not going to actually cover anything, but also that that’s the point. You’ve seen those fuzzy videos he’s peddling. What he wants is live entertainment. Mainly you. Wearing that. “Yes, you would,” you mutter, but really? It’s not like you have a lot of choice but to go along with it. At least he’s only wanting to record you, not trying to pimp you out to aliens. It definitely could be worse. And he’s not hurt you so far.

• “Such cruelty and after all I’ve done for you? Don’t I feed you? Provide you with lovely things?” Turning, he digs in a bin and comes up with a fistful of jewelry. Watches the hungry way you stare at the gold and glitter. Depositing it near you, he pulls a plush fur coat out of another bin and adds it to his pile of bribes. “Help me out here, babe.” Because you’re his ticket to more shanix than he’d ever imagined. Already has so many patrons on his waiting list eager to see a human in detail.

• Holding up a finger, you crush the luxurious softness of the coat in your fingers. While you don’t really care for fur, it’s warm and probably cost more than your first car. “I’m not fucking any aliens,” you say, chin lifting. “I’m only doing videos.” And he’s turning and walking away to grab a much smaller bin and carrying it over. Suspicious now, you open it as soon as he sets it down. And inhale. “Why would you even have these?” Because this bin seems to have been stolen directly from an adult toy store. You know he’s a bit of a hoarder for anything he can even possibly sell later, but still. Holding up a sealed package, you’re not sure if you’re more horrified and amused.

• “You’re not the only species with a valve, babe,” he says laughing at your expression. “Or the only ones that interface for fun.” Leaning on the desk you’re on, he uses the end of a servo to carefully brush your soft hair away from your face. “You get to play to your little heart’s content, I record it and we both get rich. What do you say? We have a deal?” Because you’re a commodity in high demand out here and he’s the only one with the goods. Again offering you the skimpy little outfit, he watches your shoulders slump as you snatch it from him.

• Crotchless panties. Sheer lace and a feather boa. Eyes closing as you try to gather your strength, you blow out a breath. It’s not like anyone you know is ever going to see this garbage. Or that you’ll ever see them again. This is your life now, just a new possession in Swindle’s hoard of contraband. And as long as you’re making him a profit, you’re not for sale, too. “How famous am I going to be?” You ask as he grins.

Previous

Next

[saphronethaleph]

The Dragon's Fire

Smaug, the Dragon Dread, the Terror of the Lonely Mountain, furled his wings and chuckled slightly as the last of the smoke rose from his muzzle.

That, he was sure, was one wizard who was not going to be sniffing around here again. Gold was scattered all across the floor to the sides of his mighty hoard, coins and artworks that he had piled up to serve as his bed and that had been cast aside when he had burst from the gold, but the surprise had been either total or as near as made no difference at all.

Leaning down, Smaug examined the scorch mark, which was glowing faintly as the stonework cooled and which had a drift of ash around it… unfortunately, his experience with the clothing of mortals was not sufficient to actually work out in any detail what he was dealing with here.

Clothes, perhaps? In the moment’s glance at the wizard, as his intense flames reached out, he had seen… robes, a hat, and a staff that glowed with light and might and power.

Perhaps it was the staff that was part of it?

Regardless, either the wizard was dead or he had received a clear warning to never return. The light was dim, here in the depths of Erebor, and there was smoke aplenty, but the glow from the scorch mark was sufficient that Smaug could identify two of the burning cinders as parts of a snapped wooden staff.

But there was something else odd, as well, and Smaug leaned more closely.

The glow of his scales, sign of the flames that burned within him, flared a little lighter. It illuminated the stonework, and Smaug’s paw picked up the metal circlet.

In the dim light, it looked�� quite pleasant, really. Understated, a golden band with a red ruby set in a housing. Perhaps it was some sort of diadem, if wizards were prone to wearing such things… and, more than that, it was a trophy of his victory.

Toying with it, Smaug realized after a few seconds that it was of a size to fit onto his foreclaw, and slid it into place. It fit quite snugly, and he chuckled.

If wizards were going to bring him such trophies, he could almost look forward to the next visit.

-Smaug awoke with a jolt.

His paws clenched into claws, and he growled, then shook his head.

There had been something he was dreaming about – something that had woken him up.

But what had it been?

He tried to remember, turning his mighty mind to the task, but it was a struggle… for all that he tried, it seemed that the details attempted to slip away regardless of how much effort he put into holding onto them.

It had involved… flying, Smaug was sure. Soaring above the earth below, with clouds all around him, such as he had not done since he had first burned his Devastation many years ago. Flying, wings caressing the air, carrying his immense but light form in sweeps through the clouds.

And there had been… other dragons, as well. Drakes of different sizes and colours, winged cold-drakes and fire-drakes alike, soaring between the mountains that ringed the Withered Heath…

...but as he tried, the last elusive details slipped through his claws, and Smaug’s paw smote the gold of his hoard. Gold coins and halves of gold coins flew everywhere, and there was a minor avalanche, but Smaug cared little.

There was an ache in his heart, and it took him a long moment to work out what it was.

Loneliness.

He growled, and thrashed his tail against the wall.

He was a mighty fire-drake, greatest of the dragons. He should not be feeling this pain over loneliness!

Smaug needed nobody else.

Smaug had nobody else.

And that had never bothered him before.

The faint light filtering into the hall told Smaug that it was during the day. The dwarven hall was well designed, and it allowed shafts of light in so that the burning torches that would have thrown light were an adjunct, rather than truly necessary. They would have needed them by night, but not while the sun was in the sky or even when the clouds veiled it.

And Smaug rested his great bulk up on one of the high places, a mezzanine thirty feet and more above the main hall which was filled with his hoard, and he glowered down at it.

As if it had offended him.

As if it posed an impossible challenge.

Because… in the final analysis, what was he going to do with it?

He was a mighty dragon, that much was obvious. The greatest of the dragons that yet lived upon Middle-Earth. He had won this hoard, mighty gold and treasures almost beyond counting, himself.

It was his.

And yet… since winning it, all he had done was sleep in it.

“This is foolishness,” he growled, then almost winced at the echoing sound of his own voice – so long had it been since he had had cause to speak.

But it was foolishness.

He had everything a dragon could ever desire! As a young drake in the Withered Heath, he had dreamed of wealth, and the hoard of the Lonely Mountain was greater even than he had dared to dream.

And all he had done was sleep on it, sleeping away a hundred years and more. He wasn’t even sure of the exact number, just that… he had dreamed his dragon dreams submerged within the wealth that had been his goal, and it no longer brought him the least pleasure.

It might as well have been a pile of rocks.

After a moment’s thought, Smaug shook his head, for – no, it was not the case! Gold was gold, and rock was rock, and no dragon would ever sleep on a pile of rocks!

Except… all the others.

If there were others.

His thoughts were going around in circles, and he growled, then looked down at the hoard again.

What was he going to do with it?

Sleep here, buried in gold that would never again do anything, until he was too large to fit through the door? Or until the ages of Middle-Earth had turned again, and again, and the Lonely Mountain itself wore away and there was nothing left? Never gaining anything from the gold beyond a sleep that was troubled by unquiet dreams anyway?

Or go elsewhere, use the gold to do something?

The idea felt like a sore tooth.

Anything else he tried to do with it would mean giving it up, surrendering it, letting it slip out of his control. It was… a sickening thought, one that made his stomach roil.

What else could a dragon value but his hoard?

But… in what way could a dragon value his hoard?

It was a bed.

A bed.

Smaug yawned, wings half-flaring, and clambered down from the mezzanine.

He was tired, and sleep might bring him more insight. Or a solution to his conundrum.

Though it would… probably not. He had had these thoughts too often, lately.

The feeling that something was missing. And that what he had was… nothing.

Sunlight slashed into the main entrance of Erebor’s dwarf hold, and Smaug held a fine coat of silvery mail in the light. It was tiny, to him, a mere trinket.

But he knew what it meant.

He knew, roughly, how it would have been made.

Every one of the links was made of mithril, a metal that was difficult to find and difficult to smelt. First it would need to be mined, the ore taken from the ground, by miners who tunnelled through the rock with pickaxe and hammer and chisel, and that would give them rocks.

To smelt the metal would have required… charcoal, or coal, cut and burned once to make it into truly black material that could be used in a forge, and then burned again to fuel the forge. Turning the ore into a bloom of the metal, then shaping the metal into wire, then turning the wire into links of tiny metal.

The links of this particular coat were so fine that Smaug could barely see them, even when he looked his closest, and there were a lot of them.

Then they would all have to be fit together, tens of thousands of rings, all assembled and held together with tens of thousands of rivets.

And it was just one item. One part of his hoard.

The artisans of Erebor had been able to make so many things, with their skills at working wood and metal and stone. Beautiful things. So many things that were so beautiful, not merely mining out gold but then shaping it into the things that were far more appealing.

He would not have been so pleased with a bed of lumps of solid metal. It was that they had been turned into coins, or finer things, that gave them much of their value.

And… he had killed so many of those dwarves. Struck them down with flame and tail and claw, and driven out the rest.

For what?

For his hoard, of course, which was his by right. But… Smaug could not help but look at this tiny, exquisite suit of mail.

And wonder what they could have made for a dragon.

Wonder if something that had been made for him, at his direction… would have closed the ache inside him.

Wonder why he had never even considered it, before.

“Are you sure that this is a good plan, exactly?” Bilbo wondered, looking up at Thorin.

Thorin grumbled.

Bilbo supposed that, really, that was all he could hope for.

The original plan had been for each of them to get an enormous part of the share of a dragon’s hoard, and Bilbo’s role had been… well, to put it simply, to be a thief.

But they had been captured by Elves, and one thing had led to another, and after a rather significant amount of negotiation and a rather more significant amount of arguing between Thorin and Balin and Gloin, with Bilbo’s assistance, the way it had all worked out was that now the shares they were going to get of the dragon’s treasure were somewhat less enormous – but still sounding like quite a large amount of gold, all things considered.

The Elves would be getting some, for their own help – a fine way of saying that they would release the Company from captivity and accompany them to Erebor, while keeping them safe from spiders and goblins alike in the dangerous Mirkwood – but they would not be getting the Arkenstone that Thorin so valued and they would not be getting the mountain itself, either.

Bilbo still remembered the decisive question that had turned the trick – which was when Balin had asked Thorin what he would give to restore Erebor to its old glory.

And Thorin had admitted… he would give much. Even, when pressed, half the treasure from the dragon’s hoard… a deal which Thranduil had rejected, as too generous to the Elves.

Bilbo didn’t quite like Thranduil, because he could only compare the Elven king unfairly to Lord Elrond of Rivendell who was rather more like the sort of Elf that Bilbo liked. But he was rather taking a shine to the Prince.

Not least because Legolas seemed willing to actually tell him things.

“Is it a good plan?” he asked, then, looking back at the noble Elf.

“Perhaps,” Legolas replied, with a slight shrug. “A lot depends on if there is a dragon there.”

“Do you think that likely?” Fili asked.

“It hasn’t appeared in over a century,” Dori noted.

“I think it more likely that goblins have moved in,” Legolas suggested. “And if they have, we will be glad of our outriders.”

He looked up. “...though it seems trouble may be on our way.”

“Why do you say that?” Thorin asked, roused out of his general sullen mood.

“Hoofbeats, moving fast,” Legolas explained, then looked around. “There’s a ridge – there. We should get a good look.”

He scrambled up the rock with a grace that was enviable for anyone, and especially enviable when the one doing the envying was a Hobbit, and Bilbo did his best to follow.

Then Dori picked him up, and did his best to follow, which worked a little better.

By the time they reached the top of the ridge, though, Legolas was already scanning the northern horizon in worry.

“There,” he said, pointing, and Bilbo squinted.

There was a sort of smudge, he thought.

Thorin’s expression was stormy.

“A goblin host,” he said.

“Yes,” Legolas agreed. “I make it eight or nine thousand.”

Bilbo looked back at the Elven army, which was significantly weaker – maybe sixteen hundred, all told. They were better armed and equipped, he knew, but a difference of this size was going to be a large problem.

“We should find a place to deploy,” Balin said. “Set up where they can’t-"

“They’re closer to the Mountain than us,” Thorin pointed out. “If they’re going for it, we need to try and head them off.”

“They have wargs and warg riders,” Legolas warned. “We have scarcely a hundred horse, we don’t want to fight in the open plain.”

He pointed. “Our outriders are coming in. Father will be asking them…”

His voice trailed off.

“What is it?” Thorin asked. “Out with it.”

“Dust, on the horizon,” Legolas said, nodding to the northwest. “There’s another army coming this way – I doubt they’re friendly to us.”

“It’s the wrong direction for the Iron Hills, that much is true,” Balin said.

Then a flash of movement caught Bilbo’s eye, and he turned to look – and his jaw dropped.

A massive creature with red-golden scales was emerging from the mountain, huge wings flaring, rising into the air like a hawk taking flight, and it had to be well over a hundred feet in length though Bilbo didn’t have a great sense of scale. It circled once, then swooped down towards the goblin army, and Thorin made a grim sound.

“We will have to sell our lives dearly,” he said. “Elvish prince – can you or your elves put an arrow through the scales of a dragon?”

“It’s not something I’ve tried yet,” Legolas admitted, as the dragon – as Smaug – hovered over the goblins, presumably having some sort of fell conversation. “But I’m sure I can find my mark.”

He reached for his bow, then paused.

“Look!” he said.

Bilbo followed Legolas’s gaze, and a jet of green and scarlet flame flashed down from the enormous dragon… and doused the goblin army in flame.

“They were loosing arrows at it,” Legolas said. “At him. Then he just… destroyed them.”

Bilbo could only see smoke, now, hovering over the ruin of what had once been a mighty force of goblins. Then Smaug’s wings cut the air, sweeping away the smoke in coils, and he approached them at speed.

It had to be at least two or three minutes that the dragon took, to reach them, but to Bilbo it felt like an onrushing avalanche. Then the massive creature landed on the far side of the slope, wings flaring before they furled like those of a bat, and Bilbo found himself regarded by a head that rivalled for size the largest entire creatures he had seen.

“Greetings,” Smaug said. “Hmm… two Elves, thirteen Dwarves, and a creature I know not. And an army, besides… what brings you to the Lonely Mountain?”

“Revenge,” Thorin replied.

“Revenge, is it?” Smaug asked, sounding quite amused. “Revenge, on me, I’d assume? Well, I’ll admit that I assaulted your mountain, and slew many Dwarves – and Men, as well – but I don’t recall killing any Elves, and nor do I know what that other fellow’s race is at all. So what brings hither the Elves, and their army, terrible with banners?”

Thranduil had ascended the hill, as well, and Bilbo realized that Legolas must have informed his father about the… battle… that had its smoking ruins in the distance.

“We are here in alliance with the Dwarves,” the King of the Mirkwood Elves declared, and Smaug nodded.

“A reasonable thing to do,” he said. “If, that is, you were planning to fight goblins. But one of the goblin armies here has been destroyed, for they made the mistake of attacking me – and that is something I will not abide.”

His eyes flashed. “Of course, I could leave you to fight the other goblin army yourself, if you wished. They seem at least twice as strong as the one I destroyed, and I do not think you would have brought so few to fight so many… so let us dispense with the subtleties. You are here to reclaim the Lonely Mountain, and to take from me the hoard that I took from the Dwarves of Erebor so many years ago. Am I wrong?”

“Revenge is not the least of our motives,” Thorin said, displaying a lack of concern for his own safety (and the safety of everyone else who was in flaming range) which quite worried Bilbo, but Smaug raised a paw to his chin.

“But not the most of it, either, I think,” he replied. “As you would have brought far more if you wished to fight me.”

Incongruously, Bilbo noticed something on Smaug’s forepaw.

It was a ruby ring, which caught his eye, though he knew not why.

“So consider this,” Smaug went on. “What makes me different from someone else, who came in with fire and the sword to conquer a land and make it their own? The Men and Elves and Dwarves did the same, as did the Orcs and the Goblins – history is a long tale of battles fought and agreements made.”

“Do not try to bewitch us with your words, worm,” Thorin said, and Bilbo noticed that several of the other Dwarves were edging away from him.

“Would you prefer we argue?” Smaug replied. “But, very well, then… the mountain is yours, and the contents.”

It was such a sudden shift that Bilbo practically fell over.

“...what?” Thranduil asked, completely baffled, and not the only one.

“However,” Smaug continued. “I will be offering protection, in return for which I would appreciate tribute. Not acres of gold, but… fine things, few in number and wrought with a purpose.”

“You give us back our ancestral home, and then ask for some of our wealth back?” Fili asked. “I’m – don’t get me wrong, I’d rather not be set on fire, I’m just very confused.”

“What is a kingdom?” Smaug asked, his voice stern. “An empire? Any state, or monarchy? It is, at the core, farmers who grow food, and an organization which takes the surplus food from them, in the form of tax. Surplus Men and Elves and Dwarves, to work its armies. And it uses that food to support those who do not farm, for a purpose… and that is how art is made, and how you all can enjoy yourselves, and march to war wearing weapons and armour and clothes that would take you all years or decades to make yourselves… if you can. You offer protection, and you take tax, and sons, and horses, and that is how your kingdoms work.”

He stretched his wings.

“I am proposing the same thing… but I will not demand sons. All else, all the specifics, are negotiation.”

Thorin still did not look happy.

But… Bilbo had seen that expression before.

It was quite possible that the Dwarf could be… brought around.

The peak of the Lonely Mountain was just the right size, and – after decades – there was now a ridge around it, in just about the right place. It was perfect for a dragon to rest on, and to curl around, and that was exactly what was happening.

King Smaug the First, Smaug the Golden, King Over Mountain and Dale and Lake, was looking out over the Long Lake, at the spot about halfway from the nearer end to the further.

Water splashed and fire spurted, and though it was far too far for him to hear, he could imagine the shouts of laughter and growls of protest rippling across the smooth waters of the lake.

Two of the six young dragons down there, he was fairly sure, were his children. His journeys to the Withered Heath had resulted in a few dalliances, and a few recruits only, but… the example was slowly taking hold.

The amount of gold and treasure a dragon got from the new arrangement was far less than it would have been under the old. But he now bore a chain of electrum and gold around his neck, and a mail coat of his own, and they were really quite precious to him.

The other four young drakes down there… cold-drake or fire-drake, they were young, and they were interested. And, right now, they were playing.

Smaug lay his muzzle on his paw, feeling fond, and lounged in the evening sunlight… then his head twitched, as he heard the sound of someone ascending the stairs.

A white-robed figure, white-bearded and carrying a slender white staff with a latticed shape at the top, came into view, and halted some steps below the top of the mountain.

“Greetings, King Smaug,” he said, sounding pleasant enough. “I must ask you the same as I asked King Thorin – have emissaries of the Dark Lord come this way?”

Smaug considered, then nodded slightly.

“They did,” he confirmed. “I bade they leave immediately.”

Smoke leaked from his nostrils. “Then they offered me one of the remaining Dwarven Rings, and I set them on fire.”

The white stranger nodded.

“I see,” he said. “Thank you for your answer.”

Smaug tilted his head, slightly.

“You are Gandalf, aren’t you?” he asked. “At first I thought you Saruman, but the staff is wrong…”

“Quite,” Gandalf confirmed, pleasantly enough. “I also wished to ask you if you were willing to help with the defence of the Free Peoples, beyond the Mountain, Dale and Lake. There is a war coming, and it is not known where the Enemy will strike.”

Smaug frowned.

“I will think on it,” he said. “I have a responsibility here.”

Then something occurred to him, and he raised his paw – showing the ruby ring.

“Do you want it back?” he asked. “I… suspect that this is yours… originally, at least.”

Gandalf smiled.

“I don’t think I do,” he said. “You have been gaining quite the benefit yourself, and I would not wish to punish you for becoming who you always could have been…”

[kiame-sama]

MALLEUS’S GREAT GRANDMOTHER IS ALIVE???? Poor reader is NOT getting a break the moment she steps foot on Brior valley soil LMAO

Also the way you wrote “rook’s ENTIRE family” scared me ngl because god damn I bet he has a large ass family 💀

I can see Cater’s sister’s dressing up reader like a doll like 25 times in one day

The moment Kalim’s family meets the human, reader comes out with new golden jewelry due to the al-asim family gifting her so many like I can just see it now

Malefica and Maleficent are two different dragons. Malefica is his grandmother. Maleficent is his Great Grandmother. Maleanor (his mother) was killed. Malleus is thinking of names that start with 'Malle' or 'Male' for his and the Human's young to keep up the naming tradition (Mallechite for example). That is three Dragons who want to keep the Human, pray the Human never visits Briar Valley because that is three Dragons who see the Human as their Hoard (Given Malleus is part of Malefica's hoard as her grandson, and both are part of Maleficent's Hoard as her descendants) since Hoards among dragon families often overlap. Those Dragons are not letting go of the Human EVER. Practically attached at the hip, especially Maleficent and Malleus. Malleus because that is HIS Human and Maleficent because she misses her Humans.

Rook comes from a large family as he is a Drider and can have several dozen hatchlings if the eggs all survive. Rook is the 8th of 10 siblings. Not to mention his uncles and aunts who have their own families. His siblings are constantly bugging him for details despite the fact he didn't talk with them very much before the Human due to how much his family likes to spread out and live in different places. It is not uncommon for a Hunt to randomly leave home in search of their fixation, but Rook bringing the Human back home to his parents may be the first time the ENTIRE family comes together. They are all almost vibrating with how excited they are. There will be squabbles between siblings over the Human, who is actively hiding under Rook.

Cater has two older sisters, and he is the only Nymph of his family that chose to be male (as Nymphs have no set gender and simply choose what resonates most with them). They will happily use the Human as a dress up doll since cay-cay doesn't like being the doll. They are all Lake Water Nymphs but his sisters have more lake green hair. Cater's two Mothers will adore the Human and will praise their son for finding such a cute little thing. The sisters will ensure they get their fair share of time with the Human, they kay even kick Cater out of dress-up time and this will upset him deeply.

The Al-Asim are attempting to seal a marriage contract between Kalim and the Human, especially after Kalim's father learns Kalim granted a wish for the Human and somehow they didn't die from it. He believes this granted wish is an answer to his prayers and will give any wealth to secure the two in matrimony. Want gemstones? You get gemstones. Want a fancy new car? You get a fancy new car. Want a Diamond lamp (that totally isn't being planned as your and Kalim's child's lamp?) Please, take it! They would rather you have it on hand for reasons. Doesn't matter the Human's gender, Genies can successfully have young with ANYONE regardless of gender or fertility. They want another Al-Asim.

[pursuitseternal]

A “Decadent” treat for Valentine’s Day💝 Astarion x F!Reader with a sweet Sex Chocolate treat💝

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3K aphrodisiac-infused smut

💝Gift for @bhaalbaaby 💝

Summary: You finally make it to Baldur’s Gate, coin burning holes in your pockets, a need to gift your companions to celebrate how much you appreciate them. You get a gift to, a box of chocolates from your Vampire lover, and some alone time in an alley

CW: semi-public sex, aphrodisiac sex, knife play, nipple play, blood kink, blood drinking in detail, panty snatching rogue, one feral vampire who wants your blood and more

Bites series | Ao3 link |Masterlist

“Decadent:”

🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫

At last… out of the crowds of Rivington, you made it. The bottleneck of Baldur’s Gate, the Southspan’s Main Street stretches out before you all. And that gold you have been hoarding like a dragon burns a hole deep in your pack. Everything smells… good and foul. Bakeries and perfumeries and smithy shops and fish mongers…. And you can’t wait to buy something from them all.

After all your party has done for you and with you, a few tokens of appreciation wouldn’t go amiss. Karlach takes you by the arm, and you’re glad she can’t burn you to cinders by now. Because in all her hysteria, she would have certainly forgotten. Gale makes a none-too-subtle move to pull Astarion from your side, begging him to show all the booksellers. “Don’t touch me, Wizard,” he grimaces, mostly for show and humor. But there is a little irritation in his silken voice. “I have my own plans,” he comments towards Gale, but his eyes dart in your direction. That little lowering of his head so he gazes at you like the predator he is… your stomach instantly drops to your knees.

For a man who is horrific at planning, he surely knows how to calculate a breathtaking seduction… and they always begin with him giving you that look.

“Cmon soldier, let’s go find something new and sharp and deadly shiny!” Karlach tugs you towards the closest smithy, and away from where Astarion is eyeing you like you’re his next snack.

Your Cleric loops her arm through yours and giggles. “Yeah and maybe we’ll find you a little something else to wear that isn’t scaled armor and chainmail.”

“Ooooh, yeah,” Karach peers over the top of your head to cackle back at Shadowheart, “find you something Fangs won’t be able to resist.”

You manage one last look over your shoulder before they turn you into a shop, one last glance at that devouring leer from your lover. But you watch that seductive grin instantly swallowed by a scowl as Gale grabs his elbow too. You barely hear the Wizard whining something about books and spell scrolls…

You shrug. Astarion would manage. Some time where he wasn’t trying to bury his cock balls deep in your thighs for once might be good for him.

The shops flash by you, a whirlwind of coin and scents and giggles, mirth and merriment. Something you and your friends haven’t had… ever. You hold too many parcels and pouches. Of course it would be easier to stash most of it into pockets or your pack if you still wore your nice, sensible armor. But no. Karlach wouldn’t let you out the door to the clothing shop without putting on that sweet little gown you bought. So now, you walk down the street, arms laden with parcels, your thighs rubbing together without the practicality of pants, the slits up the skirt over the fronts of your thighs almost too high as you shuffle your load. Not to mention how the sun is beating on your shoulders and the tops of your breasts that hadn’t seen light since you began this journey.

You had too many things: a book for Gale, some soaps for Halsin, a bottle of Baldur’s Grape for Wyll… but you needed to return now. Karlach and Shadowheart wanted to push on, so many more stores around this corner or that one.

But you needed a rest. And someone to carry your shit.

It’s only after you make a right, you realize it’s the wrong turn. Crates line the alley, and your arms are just too sore to keep going. Resolved to rest a moment, you set your gifts down, looking at the end of the narrow way to where it hangs over the Chionthar River.

“Lost, darling?” you feel his breath on your neck even as his words barely leave his lips. Astarion hovers right over your shoulder, how he snuck up on you so quickly, you can only shake your head.

“Typical rogue,” you huff an exhausted laugh. “Just couldn’t help being a prick and being stealthy at the same time?”

“I believe you mean, typical hero, coming to save his damsel in distress, lost in the sea of the City,” he flashes you that fanged smirk that makes your stomach flutter. “How fortunate I am here, with my skills and knowledge…”

Your turn in the little space he’s given you, between that crate behind you now and his looming body before.

“My hero, come to the rescue,” you simper, very much aware of the ways his eyes are dilating as they dart over your cleavage, down your lean but unsunned arms, even to where your new dress sinches at your waist.

“Heroes are usually rewarded handsomely for their efforts, darling….”

You feel him closing in on you, his thighs butting up into your skirts, but you giggle as you reach for one long, wrapped parcel from the stack beside you. “Here, hero,” you tease. “A different sort of weapon you enjoy sheathing than the one I think is on your mind.”

His brow arches, a pleasant smile on his thick lips. He leans back just a bit, reluctant but curious about what gift you’ve set in his hands. The paper and cloth tumbles at your feet, revealing a shining new dagger, a blade nice and light as he pulls it slightly from its scabbard. “My, my,” he tries to sound smooth, trying hard to hide the lump in his throat at the thoughtfulness of your gift. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He smiles, a true grin that deepens the wrinkles by his eyes, but it only happens once he turns away a bit, thinking himself mostly out of view. His hands slip the new blade into his belt, before pulling out something from behind his back. “But this time, you’re not the only one with a surprise, I am not woefully unprepared….”

A small square box in his cold, pale palm, he opens the paper lid.

Eleven little chocolate hearts fill the lining, except for one vacant spot that stares back at you. You feel him pressing closer again, the box basically pushed against the curve of your breasts.

“You got me… chocolates?” you cock your head, picking one up and giving it a sniff.

“I’ve always wanted to have a reason to… indulge in such finery. You’ve given me more than enough reason,” he purrs. Eyes fixed as he watches you bring it closer to your mouth. “They are so… sensual and delicious, I couldn’t help but hurry to find you for a nibble.”

You squint at him, sensing there is some… game at work here. “Seems like you got peckish on your way here,” you smirk at the empty spot. “Thought you didn’t enjoy the taste of anything that wasn’t blood, my vampire.”

“For this… I made an exception,” he grins wider, and you stare into his eyes, eyes almost black as he begins to press you against the rough wood of the crate. “Taste it, my dear… it goes down so smooth, so deliciously, you’ll… burn for more.”

You lick it, feeling a foreign heat that runs right from your tongue to your belly, a sweetness to its cream that you are unfamiliar with….

“They are a specialty around these parts, darling, a little something to, well…” he catches your hand, guiding the small chocolate between your lips, “why don’t you stick it in your mouth and swallow and find out.”

Something about that tingle on your tongue already, you seem to hum with your need for more… more of the chocolate, more of him…. No.

All of him.

You smile softly, closing your eyes and opening your mouth. It’s sweet and warm and… decadent. The little treat that he places on your tongue brings you to life. And you moan with abandon, delicious little noises as you savor its taste, until you do swallow it down. Eyes still closed to the world, you feel nothing now but the way his hands have found the bare skin of your thigh. Ghosting up your flesh, his nails skate beneath the hem of your skirt, drawing it higher… higher.

His touch is warm, you notice, the only thing warmer is your own increasingly burning skin. You pant, looking into his face where he looms above you. “What’s in those… sweets?” you need to swallow midway, and somehow, being so close to him to feel his breath on your cheek only makes the burning worse.

“Aren’t they sinfully good?” his voice is deep, rumbling as his hands find purchase beneath your clothing. It takes him no effort to lift you and set your ass down on that poor, helpless crate behind you. “Lovers’ chocolates… a specialty, an indulgence from the pleasure houses on these streets. And, as I’ve never had a lover with which to share them in two-hundred years…”

You are shaking as he slots himself between your thighs, the skirt of your new dress lifted quickly around your waist. With that infamous dexterity, he slinks his fingers beneath your undergarments and inside your cunt, the chocolates already flushing your skin and soaking your folds. “Seems like the right time to indulge in the decadence?”you are slurring your words.

“Indeed.” His fingers slowly stroke you, slowly pierce deeper into your channel as his other hand pulls you right to the edge of the crate. You don’t care it’s some alleyway… that anyone could see you or hear you. Not now with the chocolate in your blood, not now with his touch crooking and thrusting into your folds.

“You’ve indulged in your own little treats, haven’t you?” he whispers right against your lips. “This dress for one, by the hells, so much easier for me to do… all manner of things now.” Just to prove his point, his free hand steals into the neckline of your bodice, pulling that breast free. Moaning, arching, you writhe as he plucks at the hardening nipple. He smirks at you, a brief little laugh on his lips before he wraps them around it and sucks.

Even his mouth is warmed, his own tasting of the chocolate raging through his body, he did have a head start after all. With how your every nerve burns and your own sex swells to be sated, you marvel at how he’s taking his own godsdamned time right now—teasing out your arousal. As if he ever needed to work hard for you to be ready for him and his cock.

Ugh… the thought of it makes you salivate. You reach for his leathers, fingers shaking and fumbling with the ties. You groan, giving up on the laces completely. Pulling the waistband down, you ease his erection free. Even that beneath your touch is hot. Swollen. Ridged with veins so risen, you can’t look away from its… beauty.

“Even more eager than usual, aren’t we darling?” he rasps against your breast. His teeth, his fangs score slightly on the pad of your nipple, making you bite your mouth shut as you scream.

“Please…” you whimper as you try to pull his hips closer by his cock. But he stands firm, fingers still sweeping inside you, mouth still teasing your flesh.

“Oh I don’t think so…” he lifts his head to place a peck on your pouting lips. “There’s so much more of you to taste first, my little treat.” He grabs into your dress once more, lifting free your other breast before he devours it with the same skill and tenacity as the other.

His tongue is wet as he swirls it, lips so skilled at sucking your flesh, by now he knows every inch of your body. But it’s the way his thumb draws over your clit, a bit harder and tougher and timed to perfection with the lap of his tongue, you burst in a searing wave of climax. Barely a warning, and you are reduced to a moaning, gushing, flailing thing. His fingers are gripped firmly inside you, hard and thrusting as you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

But it’s the little pain you barely register, his fangs cutting into the top of your breast as he now feeds, that makes you almost come again, an aftershock to the intensity of the first. You gasp for air in your burning lungs, somehow you’ve managed to hold his cock through all your throes and shocks of orgasm. And now, he bucks into your fist, growing harder and harder the more and more he feeds.

Astarion’s fingers slide out from in you with a squelch, hips rolling with increased force into your grip. “You just had to treat yourself to a dress but insist on keeping those undergarments? Tch,” he sucks his teeth as he shakes his head in mock disapproval. “You’ll know better for next time, won’t you.”

“Whatever you think best,” you grin, half-unknowing the words coming from your mouth. Your hips buck for more… that heat in your body growing more and more unbearable, despite the soothing warmth from your single climax.

Gracefully, he leans in all the closer, unsheathing that new little dagger you got him. You feel it’s cool, deadly edge press softly at the base of your neck. “Shh, shh, shh,” he smirks with lust-dark eyes. Down to his dangerous smile, he mimics how you first met. “Not a sound now…. But those undergarments of your will just have to go… have to be sacrificed for what I need to do to you….”

You shake in anticipation, eyes fixed on his sultry, arrogant, fang-toothed grin as he slinks lower. That blade leaves your neck, perfectly intact. But as he steals its point beneath your skirts, its sharpened edge cuts the thin material of your underwear. Material ripping meets your ears as he performs the same little flick of his wrist against your other hip. Standing and returning his blade, he pulls the silky band out from under you.

“Seems I’ve done you a favor.” He leers down at you, palming your undergarments, smelling them, and putting them in his pocket. “You’ve already simply ruined these already, at any rate.”

You reach for his waist, the air kissing your wet folds too much now. He could stand there and taunt for so much longer, but it’s too much to bear. You guide that thick, warm, blunted head of his cock between your thighs, wrapping your legs around him until he’s filled you.

He practically mewls your name at the force. “Gods, I should have known not to underestimate what those chocolates would do to you, darling.”

He grunts the last word as you buck against him, trying to make him start taking you. Coaxing him just a bit deeper in. He doesn’t need more encouragement than that. Not with the way your cheeks must be glowing red with how hot they feel… not with the way you feel your arousal soaking the top of the crate now, growing cold as it leaves your burning body.

Hands grip the flesh of your ass beneath your dress, holding you firmly in place as he takes control. Eyes almost black, skin un-undeadly hot where he touches you, he feels so good… better than ever… the pulsing of his thrusts consuming you and sating that fire the chocolate has put in your belly. All you can do is grab him by that sweet ruffled collar, inch your way around his neck, and hold on for dear life.

That tightly held veil of refinement begins to slip, you hear it in the snap of his hips into you and against the crate, in the feral growls he makes each time he pierces harder and harder into you….

You crane your head back, mouth panting and wide as you show him what else you want him to do… you bear your teeth at him with a playful snap.

It’s more invitation than he needs, fangs sinking into the crook of your neck, the top of your shoulder. Bite… suck… swallow. Then he lifts again, repeating the same into your pounding artery. Bite… you moan so loudly…. Suck… his lips pull so hard on your flesh you can feel it bruising… Swallow… he lifts his head to pant for air. The most self-satisfied smirk on his sharp, pale face before he yanks your neck to the other side, leaving you a match set of bites there.

Bite…

You flood with pleasure, cresting over the edge harder than you could imagine.

Suck…

Your walls suck him in too, trapping him as he begins to stilt and buck harder. Climax for him sweeping him away harder too.

Swallow…

You scream into the mass of his silver curls, trying to muffle your cries where he’s lowered to feed on the top of your breast.

But he arches back, letting out his own panting groan, coming and ramming hard into you at last. You pray the crate doesn’t give under you with a laugh. Your hands steal into his hair, caressing down his smirking cheeks.

“How… many more of those chocolates did you get…?” the question barely carries on your breathless voice.

“Not enough,” he groans, licking the last trickles of your blood as he tucks your breasts back into the neck of your dress. What was your new dress. He chuckles, deep in his chest, cock still buried inside you. Reading your thoughts. “Don’t you fret, darling. I’ll buy you another dress. One for each I ruin.”

“Oh because…” you laugh, waving your hand down your front. “This level of violence will happen to my dresses again?”

“Every time you wear one, my love,” he breathes his own laugh before he finally… at long last… catches your lips in a slow and lingering kiss. “Undoubtedly every time.”

You shake your head even as his lips continue to work yours, as his hand winds into the hair at the base of your neck.

“Karlach and Shadowheart are going to give me such grief…”

“Only because they were right… I just couldn’t keep hand or fang off you, my darling.”

[luvdwkki]

Jeongin - Just Us

Jeongin x Gn!reader

Word count: 3,657

Synopsys: When Jeongin comes home from a long day, he doesn’t expect to find a rooftop transformed into a glowing nest of fairy lights, pizza, and love. With nothing but the stars above and each other below, the night becomes one you’ll never forget

The rooftop was magic.

It wasn’t extravagant or Pinterest-perfect, but it felt like something out of a dream. A quiet little world you’d built just for the two of you.

You’d spent the last hour fussing over every single detail, more than once rearranging the same blanket pile before undoing and redoing it again. The fairy lights you’d strung up twinkled softly now, their warm yellow glow casting gentle shadows against the makeshift canopy of cushions and throws. A few strands blinked a little too enthusiastically, no matter how many times you tried to adjust them, but somehow… It worked.

There were mismatched bowls filled with snacks like popcorn, chocolate-covered almonds, sour gummies, and those honey-dipped pretzels Jeongin always devoured like a squirrel hoarding food for winter. Two paper plates sat on a wooden tray beside a large pizza box, still warm. And next to that, two oversized mugs of hot chocolate that were practically overflowing with mini marshmallows, the kind that slowly melted into sweet clouds.

A single candle flickered beside it all, not for light but for vibe. Low, golden, and soft enough to make your heart flutter.

It was casual, but not. Chill, but not. This was something you'd imagined a dozen times. Lying under the stars with him, no real plan except being close. You’d just never thought you'd actually do it. But tonight, something inside you had whispered, why not?

And now it was real.

You checked everything one last time, brushing invisible lint from the blanket, turning the candle a few degrees, fluffing one last pillow. Then you gave yourself a tiny, ridiculous fist pump and padded downstairs to wait for him.

You sat on the couch and tried to act normal with your phone in hand, scrolling through nonsense, but not reading a word. Your fingers were jittery, your heartbeat quick. Every sound outside made you perk up. And when the door finally opened, your head snapped up so fast you almost dropped your phone.

“Jeongin!” you called out, a little too fast, jumping to your feet before he could even step inside fully.

He stepped in with a gust of autumn air behind him, cheeks rosy from the cold, wind-tousled hair falling into his eyes, the strap of his bag sliding off his shoulder in that loose, careless way he always wore it. He froze in the entryway for a beat, blinking at you, and then broke into a wide grin.

That grin. The one that took over his whole face, made his eyes crinkle and his dimples show. The kind of smile that made your knees feel like they forgot how to work.

“Why do you look like you’re about to pull a rabbit out of a hat?” he teased, cocking an eyebrow and kicking off his shoes.

You didn’t answer. You just crossed the room and wrapped your arms around his neck, rising up on your toes as you kissed him. His hair smelled faintly like baby powder. A soft and familiar smell as it tickled your cheek when he leaned down.

He kissed you back slowly, his hands finding your waist with practiced ease, drawing you in as if you hadn’t seen each other in days instead of hours. His touch was warm, anchoring. Steady in a way your nerves weren’t.

When you pulled away, just enough to meet his eyes, his smile lingered. “Not that I’m complaining,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours, “but what’s going on? Did I miss an anniversary or something?”

Your stomach flipped… again. “Nope,” you said, trying to keep your voice light despite the flutter in your chest. “But... I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” His brows lifted, lips twitching.

You nodded, reaching down to take his hand. “You just have to trust me.”

He let you pull him toward the stairs, his fingers sliding easily into yours, warm and familiar and just the right amount of grounding.

“Wait…is it food?” he asked, squeezing your hand playfully. “Because I can smell pizza and now I’m emotionally invested.”

You didn’t answer, just kept walking. You could feel his smile behind you even without turning around.

“…WAIT, are we eloping?” he added dramatically. “Because I really think I should’ve worn something nicer if we’re going to get married on the roof.”

You turned and shot him a look over your shoulder. “Shut up and go with it.”

He laughed. That hearty gaspy laugh he always did when he knew he was getting under your skin on purpose. But his grip didn’t loosen. If anything, he tugged you a little closer, his thumb brushing across your knuckles like he couldn’t help it.

As you reached the rooftop door, you paused for a moment, the nerves fluttering back in your chest. But when you looked back at him, he was already watching you. His eyes warm, smile wide, like you’d just given him the world and he didn’t even know what was coming next.

“You’re smiling like an idiot,” you muttered.

He shrugged. “Can’t help it. You look like a rom-com lead about to change my life.”

You rolled your eyes. “Stupid.”

“You like it.”

You did.

You really, really did.

And as you opened the door, your heart skipped again, though not because you were nervous about what he’d think, but because you already knew this was going to be one of those nights. The kind you’d replay over and over again for years.

The rooftop door creaked open as you pushed it gently, the cold air brushing against your skin in a hush of anticipation. You stepped aside, heart fluttering in your chest like it hadn’t quite decided whether to be excited or terrified, and nodded for him to go first.

Jeongin gave your hand one last curious squeeze before stepping out into the quiet night.

He didn’t say anything at first.

His footsteps slowed the second he crossed the threshold. His hand stayed wrapped around yours, like he needed that anchor as his gaze swept across the space.

The fairy lights glowed softly, casting warm golden halos over everything they touched. Their reflections danced faintly in his dark eyes as he took in the blanket nest you had made, layered and crumpled like something out of a sleepy daydream. The pillows you had fluffed and re-fluffed now looked perfectly, effortlessly undone. The flickering candlelight spilled across the snacks and pizza, the steam still rising faintly from the mugs of hot chocolate nearby. Over all of it, the night sky stretched wide and impossibly deep, stars scattered across the navy expanse like glitter someone had thrown from heaven.

The music you had queued up drifted in softly from your speaker, humming just beneath the stillness. It was mellow and slow, the kind of sound that tugged at the heart even when no one was speaking.

You stood a little behind him, watching his face more than the scene. Noticing the way his eyebrows twitched just slightly as his eyes moved from the lights to the food to the soft, glowy mess of everything. How his lips parted, like he meant to say something but forgot how words worked.

His grip on your hand tightened slightly.

And then he turned to look at you, really look at you, and his whole expression softened like something inside him had melted.

“Wait…” he said quietly, his voice just above a whisper. “Did you… did you do all this yourself?”

You ducked your head a little, suddenly aware of every breath, every sound. You felt his eyes on you like sunlight through a window, warm, gentle, and a little overwhelming.

“Yeah…” you murmured, glancing toward the lights, then back at him. “Do you… like it?”

There was a beat where he didn’t answer. His eyes stayed on you, unreadable at first. You wondered if you’d done too much, or not enough, or if it was weird, or if you should have gone with your original idea of just baking cookies and calling it a night.

But then that look appeared.

That look that only he gave you.

His smile bloomed slowly, tugging at one corner of his mouth before spreading into something wide and dazzling, all dimples and crinkled eyes and a kind of quiet wonder.

“I don’t like it,” he said, his voice steady and warm. “I love it.”

And just like that, your heart turned into soft butter. Everything in you let go at once. The nerves, the overthinking, the little panicked voices that had whispered maybe this was too much was now gone.

Because now he was smiling like you’d hung the stars yourself.

Without hesitation, he dropped his bag beside the pillow pile and turned back to you, eyes still bright. “You’re kind of unbelievable, you know that?”

You tried to shrug casually, but your smile gave you away. “It only took me, like… five Pinterest boards.”

He laughed, the sound low and boyish, and pulled you in by the hand, wrapping his arms around your waist with easy affection. “Worth every pin.”

You felt yourself exhale, and not because you were tired, but because there was something so indescribably peaceful about this moment. Like you had done something bold and brave and he had met it with nothing but love.

Just the two of you. Under the stars. No plan but each other.

“Come here,” Jeongin said, already flopping back into the blanket nest with a dramatic sigh like he was starring in his own indie film. “I need warmth. And snacks. And love. In that exact order.”

You laughed, the sound carried off a little by the breeze as you carefully stepped over a bowl of chips and dropped down beside him.

“You’re so needy.”

“Mmhm,” he hummed, eyes closed like he was absolutely spent from the trials of his day. Then, without warning, he reached out and tugged you closer by the arm, until you were tucked firmly against his side, your head brushing against his shoulder. “You built a literal fairyland on a rooftop. You can’t just not cuddle me. That’s emotional sabotage.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a drama queen.”

“And yet,” he said with a smug grin, reaching into the snack bowl and dramatically selecting a gummy bear, “you’re still very clearly obsessed with me.” Then, with the confidence of someone who had done this before, he pressed the gummy bear to your lips.

You took the gummy into your mouth, chewing slowly, trying not to smile (and failing). Jeongin turned his attention to the snack spread like it was a battlefield to conquer, eyes scanning over the selection like a seasoned professional.

“Okay, let’s see. Popcorn. Cookies. Chips. Gummy bears. Are those honey pretzels? You are spoiling me.” Then his eyes caught something behind the candlelight. He gasped. Actually gasped. “Wait. Is that pizza?”

You smirked. “Obviously. I know where your loyalty lies.”

He turned toward you with mock awe, hands clasped together like he was about to cry. “You really do love me.”

“I literally built you a rooftop picnic under the stars. The pizza is just bonus points.”

He reached for the box with the reverence of someone unearthing ancient treasure. His face lit up as he opened it. “Oh my god, it’s the good kind. The cheesy one with the weird crust I love.”

“Of course it is,” you said, your voice soft but smug.

He pulled out a slice and held it up like a prized possession. “You know I could eat this entire slice in one bite.”

You blinked. “That’s not something to brag about.”

“Don’t believe me?” He raised an eyebrow, mischief radiating off him like heat from the pizza itself.

“Jeongin.”

“Watch me,” he said, folding the slice slightly in his hands like he was preparing a sacred ritual.

“Jeongin, no.”

“Yes.”

“Jeongin, seriously, no-”

But it was too late. With a devilish grin, he shoved the entire slice into his mouth in one go, somehow managing to bite it down with zero hesitation and maximum confidence. He chewed slowly and dramatically, eyebrows raised like he’d just won a gold medal in Olympic pizza consumption.

You smacked his arm, still breathless from laughing. “You are so gross.”

“Gross?” he gasped, feigning genuine offense like you’d just insulted his entire lineage. “Excuse me, that was a survival technique. I grew up with two brothers, remember? If you didn’t eat fast, you didn’t eat at all. It was war.”

“Oh no,” you said, hand flying to your chest in exaggerated concern. “Pizza trauma. The worst kind.”

He nodded solemnly. “I once reached for my last dumpling, my last dumpling, and it was already gone.”

You blinked. “No...”

He held up a hand, eyes dramatic and haunted. “Swear. My older brother didn’t even blink. Just stared me dead in the eyes while he chewed it. Didn’t break eye contact. That moment changed me.”

You gasped like he’d just revealed a deep, painful family secret. “A dumpling thief in your own home?”

“Gone,” he whispered, looking to the heavens like he was still grieving it. “Just vanished. I can still feel the betrayal.”

You giggled, resting your chin on his shoulder, the material of his hoodie soft under your skin. “Well, lucky for you, you don’t have to fight for food anymore. I made you a literal rooftop buffet. All for you.”

“And yet,” he said, turning to you with the gleam of mischief in his eye, “the only thing I want to devour is-”

“Jeongin,” you warned.

“...your heart,” he finished innocently, pressing a hand to his chest like a knight pledging his love.

You gave him a sharp look before grabbing a gummy bear and flicking it at his face.

Without missing a beat, he caught it in his mouth like some kind of pet, then threw his hands in the air in victory. “Talent.”

You rolled your eyes but flopped beside him, letting your shoulder press against his, your knee brushing his. The laughter faded into a soft, comfortable quiet, the kind that only happens when the silence feels safe.

It was warm under the blankets, but it was a different kind of warmth. It was one that came from being next to him. From feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing. From the slight weight of his pinky hooking around yours. The lights of the city glittered far below, distant and dreamy, while the stars above looked close enough to touch.

You tilted your head and watched him for a moment, the way the fairy lights caught in the soft strands of his hair, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips were parted just slightly like he was still catching his breath from laughing.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice a little quieter now, a little slower, “this is gonna be one of those core memory nights.”

You turned your head toward him, still smiling. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded, eyes on the sky like he was trying to memorize the exact shade of it. “It’s just… you. And this. It’s honestly perfect.”

Your heart flipped in your chest, soft and full. You didn’t say anything right away though, you just let yourself take all of him in. The curve of his nose. The line of his jaw. The way his thumb gently stroked over your hand without even thinking.

“I’ve had a lot of loud days lately,” he said after a pause, his voice thoughtful now. “Schedules. Noise. Rehearsals. Managers yelling. Hyunjin hyung eating all the snacks before anyone else even sees them…”

You let out a quiet snort.

He glanced at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “But this? Just being up here with you? It’s like… I don’t know. Everything stops for a second.”

You turned fully to face him now, your cheek brushing against his shoulder. “You’re being soft.”

“I know,” he groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I’m gonna sound so cheesy.”

“You literally unhinged your jaw for a slice of pizza ten minutes ago. I think the line’s already been crossed.”

He peeked at you through his fingers and laughed, his voice low and warm. “Okay, okay. Then I’m saying it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Saying what?”

“I love you,” he said, and this time there was no hesitation, no cheeky tone, just softness and certainty. “Like… a lot.”

Your breath caught, but in the best way. Like the world had narrowed to just this moment. The lights, the sky, the boy beside you.

“Yeah?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he replied, tugging gently at the sleeve of your sweater, eyes locking with yours. “You’re the best part of my day. Even when you bully me for eating pizza like a menace.”

You leaned in, your noses brushing, lips close enough to feel the warmth of his breath. “I love you too, Pizza Goblin.”

He made a wounded noise. “Wow. So romantic.”

But he was smiling so big now, so bright and beautiful, and a little shy around the edges. His cheeks were pink from the cold or maybe from your words. And in that moment, you were absolutely sure, this was the happiest you’d ever seen him.

And maybe the happiest you’d ever been too.

As he looked at you, his hands came up to cup your face. His fingers were warm as they brushed against your cheek, gentle and steady, like he was memorizing the shape of your face. His touch didn’t rush or demand, it simply asked, quietly, if this was okay. His eyes flicked between yours, wide and searching, like he was trying to read your mind or make sure this wasn’t some dream he’d accidentally wandered into.

There was a beat, a breath, where everything paused.

And then, slowly, like he didn’t want to miss a single second of it, he leaned in.

His lips ghosted over yours, a whisper of contact, so soft it almost didn’t count, almost. It was a question more than a kiss, a quiet, are you with me? spoken without words. His breath mingled with yours, warm and a little shaky, and you could feel the way his fingertips curled slightly at your jaw, like he was grounding himself.

You didn’t hesitate.

You leaned into him, your lips pressing back, answering that silent question with a yes that bloomed between you like light. And just like that, the world faded, it all blurred into background noise. All you felt was him.

His kiss deepened, slow and purposeful, like he wanted to make this moment last forever. His hand cradled your face with such care it made your heart ache, while his other arm slid around your waist and tugged you flush against him. Your body curved instinctively toward his, fitting together like puzzle pieces that had always belonged.

And when he finally pulled back, he didn’t go far. His forehead rested against yours, the tips of your noses brushing, breaths coming in tandem like you’d synced without even trying. His chest rose and fell quickly, and you could feel the beat of his heart through his clothes. It was fast and wild, but steady.

You stayed there in the hush between heartbeats, in the quiet intimacy of knowing someone down to their soul. His hand slid up to the nape of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, while his thumb grazed your cheekbone in slow, tender strokes. His gaze was fixed on you, soft and reverent, like he was still trying to believe you were real.

“I love you,” he said, barely more than a breath, but it was the kind of sentence that hit like a wave. There was no teasing in it. No playful undertone. Just truth. “You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he kept going, the words spilling out like he couldn’t hold them in anymore.

“I…” He paused, blinking quickly like he was searching for the exact words, like anything less than perfect wouldn’t be enough. “I could never love anyone the way I love you. Not even close. You’re everything. And I didn’t know love could feel like this… like my chest is too full, like I’m going to explode if I don’t tell you. It’s like… you’re my home.”

Your breath caught.

Because no one had ever said something like that to you, definetly not like that. Not with their whole heart in every syllable.

You reached up, your hands cupping his face, your thumbs brushing the soft curve of his cheekbones. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his lashes fluttering slightly as he leaned into your palms like he never wanted you to let go.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice thick with feeling. “More than I ever thought I could. More than I knew I could.”

His smile bloomed slowly, no smirk, no mischief, instead just something tender, something grateful. He looked like someone who’d finally found what he’d been searching for. Like maybe that something had been you all along.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, soft and sure, then one to your nose that made you smile. And finally, his lips brushed yours again, this time even softer than the first, like a promise.

Then he stayed there, his head resting gently against yours, arms wrapped around you like he had no intention of letting go. And you didn’t want him to.

Not now. Not ever.

The air around you seemed to hum with something more. Not just love, not just comfort. Something unspoken but understood, something that wrapped itself around both of you like the blankets, like the stars, like fate.

Because in that quiet, glowing space between the rooftop and the sky, it wasn’t just a kiss. It wasn’t just a night.It was the beginning of everything.

aurkayyyy i struggled w this. I cant even lie LMAO. when I got the idea for this story i knew that I wanted it to be Jeongin but it was actually so hard for me to make it sound like him and stuff 😭 and when I did include stuff abt him it just felt so like cliche to him like the baby power or the pizza but oh well 😛 also not proofread so if u find any mistakes pls let me know!!!

[s4turns-st4rs]

baby, please come home !

🎁 ﹐ ♡﹒ regulus black oneshot﹒ ᶻ ᶻ

𝐚/𝐧: did someone ask santa for christmas fluff with baby fever regulus? (i did.) well, if you did, merry early christmas! enjoy lovelies xxx

requests are always open <3

in which: when regulus returns to 12 grimmauld place years later, it’s a lot more festive than he remembered…

words: 1.2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none!

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: christmas (baby please come home) - u2

the first thing regulus black felt as he reentered 12 grimmauld place, uncharacteristically decorated for the festive season, was disgust. which he immediately shunned. that was just his parents’ thoughts, haunting and mocking him as he tried to move beyond the cynical teachings of his childhood. it was christmas, and he was safe, and home with his loved one … and the rest of the order, he supposed.

still, his terrible thoughts taunt him.

“this isn’t what mother would have wanted.”

too bad. he thought defiantly. mother can suck my big fat—

well, it’s my house now. and i do what i want with it. and i’ll fill it with as many so called “blood traitors” as i please.

regulus watched as the usual still and stoic rooms of 12 grimmauld place bustled with christmas cheer. it was unfamiliar to him, but so was the feeling of unrivalled joy that came with the lights and wreaths. it had been a stressful time for the order of the phoenix (understatement of the millennium, regulus thought dryly) and everyone was grateful for the sense of holiday cheer.

it felt so new to him, the sight of molly and arthur weasley’s comfortable bickering, and remus lupin and his brother’s usual sense of longing. and, of course, the only remaining sense of the dull house he grew up in, the sound of kreacher’s groans and complaints from upstairs.

and he couldn’t deny the sudden sense of paternalism at the sight of the mass of teenagers running around. which, mind you, he promptly dismissed. he would be just a bad father (hypothetically of course) as his own. although, as he watched you chat animatedly with ginny as you helped her hang the tinsel along the staircase rail, he didn’t mind the thought of having one of your own. or two. or three. or hundreds. he’d sort out the details later.

as the light outside dimmed and molly called the hoard of teenagers into the kitchen to aid with her extensive festive meal preparations, regulus used the opportunity to pull you to the side. which, just so happened to be his childhood bedroom.

as you unknowingly ogled his rather simple and since emptied room, a maelstrom of emotions raged in regulus’ tired brain.

“do you want to have kids?” he blurted suddenly. good god. that was certainly less poetic and romantic than he had hoped.

but a sense of relief (and the stubborn sense of embarrassment) filled his veins as you responded with a kind chuckle.

“seeing all those weasley kids is making you think, hm?” you asked, a hint of teasing in your voice as you spoke knowingly, to which regulus just shrugged sheepishly.

“but seriously? … i’d like that.” you said quietly, intertwining your hand with his, feeling the cool metal of his wedding ring upon your palm.

and regulus couldn’t help the look of absolute elation (and shock) at your response. he instinctively squeezed your hand tighter, pulling you closer to him, so his free hand rested on your hip. the peaceful moment was interrupted by molly’s cry of “dinner’s ready!”, and the two of you watched through the open door as the hoard of kids raced towards the smell of her notoriously mouthwatering food.

the two of you followed, waiting in the doorway as you admired the festive atmosphere of the dining room. it seemed the whole order had coupled off, whether the relationship be “official” or not.

“young love, huh.” he mused, watching ginny and harry, and hermione and ron, respectively.

“… and not-so-young love.” you added, glancing from sirius and remus, to the mistletoe growing above you, the familiar green leaves appearing on the doorframe.

“hey, i’m still in my prime.” regulus protested with a dramatic frown.

you can’t help the laugh that escaped you at your husband’s pouty face. “sure, my dear.” you said, the teasing cynicism dripping from your voice that always made regulus feel some type of way.

he followed your line of sight, admiring the beautiful plant above the two of you. “i’d rather you just kissed me than question my youthfulness that i practically exude—” regulus began, before you did as he asked, closing the distance between you and pressing your lips to him.

it must’ve been the millionth time you’d kissed, but god, regulus still felt fireworks in his bones at the feeling of your soft lips on his. he wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling your body into his, and let his other hand tangle in your hair. you felt yourself shiver at his reverent touch, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

“i can’t wait to have your kids.” you murmured against his lips. he felt his blood rush at the feeling of your warm breath on his lips.

suddenly, a loud cough came from the kitchen, and regulus felt himself pulling away from you. molly weasley gave the two of you a scolding look, but the hint of fondness in her eyes was clear. well, clear to you, anyway.

“sorry, molly…” regulus said sheepishly, letting his hands drop back to his side, looking like a wet, guilty little puppy.

“just the young lovebirds, you two.” she murmured with a doting shake of her head, as she served the christmas ham onto a large plate. “you think your honeymoon would’ve finished after all these years.”

“nope.” you said simply, with a teasing grin, and unsubtly pinch a ‘pig in blanket’ from the mountainous platter of finger food. she gasped in mock offence, and you took your seat at the dining table amongst the rest of the order. regulus followed behind, pulling out the chair beside you, and taking a seat.

he rested a hand on your thigh, his long slender fingers playing absentmindedly with the soft fabric of your skirt as he spoke with remus. you watched on silently, as he reminisced with his old classmate, and his brother occasionally chipping in, rather loudly. it was nice to see him being social, especially with remus and sirius.

“you’re really smitten, huh?” george weasley asked quietly so regulus couldn’t hear, leaning towards you with a little smile.

“how’d you know?” you ask, looking from your husband back to george, resting your hand on top of his that still remained on your thigh.

at that, george gave a teasing chuckle. “you look at him the way dad looks at mum.” with that comment, you look over at his father arthur, who’s making heart eyes at molly, even if she’s just doing mundane kitchen cleaning.

“i s’pose i do.” you murmured, admiring regulus as his speech became more animated, louder and more passionate.

fred leaned over beside his twin, and made a fake gagging sound at the sight of you gazing at your husband. “guess you’re stuck in a long ass marriage.”

“good luck with that.” george added, as a knowing smirk crossed his face.

“thanks, but, as cliché as it sounds,” you said, looking over at your husband fondly. “with him…” he was so swept up in his conversation, vividly waving his left hand to further his point, but his right hand never left your thigh.

“i don’t need luck.”

[flowerofbenevolence]

Queen Maleficia Draconia Headcanons

TW: I have not read CH 7 yet, so this may be inaccurate and will be edited in the future!

"So you are the human that my grandson keeps telling me about."

Appearance:

She is envisioned to be extremely and timelessly beautiful, but also old-looking, like an older version of Maleanor. Like her daughter and grandson, she has dark midnight bluish-black hair, except it is slightly greying, or having grey streaks and is usually tied up into a bun. She also has yellowish-green eyes comparable to that of peridots, with long eyelashes and a few wrinkles beneath her eyes. she also has alabaster moonlight white skin, and of course, the famous, elegant, S-shaped horns that dragons and dragon-fairies are known for. Her attire would typically consist of the silver crown of the reigning monarch of Briar Valley, and long, black robes with green and silver accents as well as jewel and feather details.

Personality:

At first glance, Queen Maleficia seems to be cold-hearted, stern, and regal to the point of approachableness. But underneath that is actually a strong-hearted and passionate queen who loves her kingdom and people dearly, loved her daughter greatly, and is affectionate yet protective and strict towards her grandson. For that reason, many of her subjects praise her for her vast wisdom, knowledge, nobility, and being an amazing ruler. Humans, however, both fear and loathe her for her dark, cold aura and tend to take her inspiration for the villains of fairytales.

Background:

Long before the Human-Fae War started, Queen Maleficia actually had a human lover whom she loved very deeply, and promised to make him her king consort, regardless of how weak he was as a human and how short his lifespan was. However, much to her heartbreak, her human lover left her for a human princess, believing her to be much more beautiful, according to human beauty standards, and being much more "kind, graceful, and benevolent", which really meant her preferred softer, timider, and more insecure girls who suited his ego. Maleficia, following her draconic instincts (which many of us had assumed meant being jealous, possessive, and "hoarding their treasure"), was enraged, but kept her composure, knowing she had an image to maintain, being royalty and all, and tried to reason with him instead. She tried to tell him that beauty, especially human beauty doesn't last forever, and that she was the only one who would love him despite that and how his new human girlfriend's beauty would eventually fade. She also tried to tell him about how he would need someone wise like her to point out his flaws and faults and advise him so that he would be able to learn and grow as a person. When he got angry and continued to insist on leaving her, Maleficia finally snapped and decided her little human boyfriend needed a "punishment". She kidnapped his royal human bride and demanded ransom while torturing her. In the eyes of the fae, this was seen as acceptable, since fairies seek long-term relationships, strongly value loyalty, and believe that it is right to seek revenge when cheated on. Humans, on the other hand, were outraged, since they are more easily prone to cheating, being unfaithful to their spouses, but also moving on, and believed that Maleficia should be doing exactly just that instead of being a "jealous monster". As a result, Maleficia became the inspiration for numerous villainesses and witches in fairytales about "a princess who falls in love with a prince, but is hunted by a witch who is jealous of her relationship with the prince". Green also became a color associated with jealousy and envy since she often wore it, and sayings like "green-eyed monster" became invented. In the end, her human ex-boyfriend managed to rescue his human bride as well as severely injure her and return home where he was glorified as a hero. Centuries passed, and even when her human boyfriend died of old age and Maleficia found herself Malleus' grandfather, she still continues to resent her human ex-lover and the woman he left her for.

Ah, and of course, when the Human-Fae Wars started, Maleficia's hatred of humans increased tenfold, and when they killed her daughter, Maleanor Draconia, it was the final nail in the coffin.

Relationships:

Her daughter, Maleanor Draconia - Queen Maleficia loved her daughter very much and was very doting and protective. Afterall, she was basically a carbon copy of her and she would loathe herself forever if the same heartbreaking fate that happened to her happened to her daughter. That's why she was very wary of her son-in-law but eventually accepted him when he proved himself to her. She was beyond devastated when her daughter died and vowed vengeance against all the humans that caused her demise.

Her grandson, Malleus Draconia - Though she loves her grandson very dearly, she is very strict and protective of him. She acknowledges that he is the only heir left of Briar Valley, and how hard it was to hatch him. For that reason, she takes being his only living relative very seriously and disciplines him to become the perfect ruler that not only she, but the entire kingdom needs him to be. She also strives for his safety above all else and only hires the best guards and retainers to keep him safe. Lastly, she would also be very picky and judgmental if her grandson were to fall in love - not only would she hate to see her grandson get his heart broken, but it would be terrible news if the Crown Prince of Briar Valley was distracted from his royal duties.

Y/N - If Y/N was introduced to her BEFORE the overblot and she and Malleus were NOT dating and just friends, Queen Maleficia would be very cold and wary of her at best, harsh and hostile at worst. She wouldn't like how casual, informal, and intimate she would be with the Crown Prince. However, if Y/N was introduced to her AFTER the overblot while just being friends with Malleus, Maleficia would at first be shocked and refuse to believe it. Afterall, how could a magicless human possibly save one of the top five most powerful mages in the world??? However, over time, when she sees that her grandson isn't joking and hasn't gone insane, she would eventually warm up to you and be extremely kind to you. Afterall, you DID save her grandson's life. If Y/N was introduced to her BEFORE the overblot and while she and Malleus WERE dating, she would be ardently against the relationship. Not only would a dragon fairy crown prince with powerful magic dating a magicless human commoner cause numerous political and social problems, but she knows better than anyone else that humans can leave behind the most devastating of broken hearts even before they're dead. But if Y/N was introduced to her while she and Malleus were a couple AFTER the overblot, as mentioned earlier, she would be very reluctant to believe such a revelation but would eventually come to quite passionately, support the relationship. With that said, the most that you'll be is Malleus' future queen consort, and the least that you'll be is his mistress. If you were to choose the former, she would be overjoyed and along with all your royal fae teachers, teach you all that you need to know to be a member of the royal Draconia family as well as the future queen of Briar Valley.

A like is a punch to Queen Maleficia's human ex-boyfriend!

[cyberclouddream]

How to Spot: Air Signs Edition

Gemini Rising

- come off as if they’re all over the place, shallow, or flaky, constantly changing their appearance or vibe to fit the current trend

- they can charm the room without anyone really knowing who they are, though people can get annoyed with their inconsistency or superficiality

- when they feel good they’re generously spending, but when life gets tough they’re constantly hoarding things

- they overthink their spending to the point of paranoia, tying sentimental value to items and hate letting go of things

- they have an opinion on everything, and want to make sure you know it; they’re overly prideful of their ideas, even when they’re wrong

- home life may feel like a boot camp and family members may find them naggy and hard to please; nothings every clean, organized, or perfect enough for them

- may have a deep interest in family history or genealogy

- they fall in love with an image, not a person or thing, since they prioritize status and looks over emotional connection or creative expression

- either they’re completely dedicated or they’re not interested at all

- they don’t like sharing details about their work or health, and they’re prone to burnout from trying to maintain total control

- they start off hot and passionate but when they feel trapped they either ghost or pick fights to justify their need for space

- they can be hypocritical, demanding freedom while not necessarily granting it to their commitments or partners

- they often seem emotionally distant or rigid, treating emotional vulnerability like business transactions

- they can be too contrary, shoving their “open-mindedness” down other people’s throats; people can see them as someone who likes concepts over real-world practicality

- they can seem flaky or unreliable in their workplace; expect them to “find themselves” through many career changes or false starts

- they’re quick to argue and steamroll others to get what they want; if someone challenges their position in groups they’ll either fight to the top or abandon the group all together

- they can be stuck in their ways, preferring to suffer in silence rather than confront their fears or let go of habits

- they can get too comfortable with their emotional status quo, no matter how damaging it is

Libra Rising

- they desperately want to be liked and admired so they’re always putting on their “best face” in public, too busy trying to make everyone happy

- they avoid conflict like the plague, even if it means letting things fester under the surface

- they hide their true financial state from others, and may hoard money or material possessions; they may pull strings behind the scenes to ensure their financial security

- they dominate conversations, usually lecturing others rather than engaging in dialogue

- they treat family like a job, prioritizing order and structure over emotional connection; they’re not the nurturing type, which make the environment feel dry or lacking affection

- their love and creative life is more about experimenting than connecting emotionally; they want to stand out as different and can be disconnected from emotional aspects

- their daily routines are a disaster and they’re often late, forgetful, or completely checked out; their work ethic is inconsistent and they may overindulge in unhealthy habits, like procrastination or poor diets

- they attract strong-willed partners which often leads to power struggles

- they want harmony but are quick to start a fight if they don’t get their way; their partners may feel confused by the switch from charming to aggressive

- they’re very stubborn and can be slow to make any kind of personal transformation

- their approach to intimacy is sensual and drawn-out, but they’re resistant to any emotional change

- they’re an eternal student, always picking a new subject but never really mastering anything

- may travel often, but more as a form of bragging rights than true adventure

- they’re sensitive to how they’re perceived in their career and can be easily hurt by criticism

- they crave recognition for their compassion but they can also come across as overly emotional or clingy in professional settings

- they can alienate their friends by trying to show off by showboating all the time in social groups, since they’re not good at sharing the spotlight

- they’re secretly very self-critical, always worrying about whether they’re good enough; behind their calm exterior they’re picking apart themselves for every little flaw

- their anxieties may come out in the form of passive-aggressive behavior or nitpicking others in attempt to deflect their own insecurities

Aquarius Rising

- most people find them cool at first, then realize they’re cold as ice and emotional unavailable

- they’re highly unpredictable and refuse to conform to anything, so others find it hard to connect with them

- they often change their appearance or interests without warning, easily getting board with anything mainstream

- inconsistent income is a theme, and they may be confused about where their money went

- they either giving away too much money or floating from one financial mishap to the other

- conversations with then can feel like debates and they’re quick to anger if someone challenges their viewpoints

- when it comes to their personal space they’re not as flexible as they claim to be, they’re borderline possessive; they want stability but are resistant to change

- they’re great at flirting and terrible at commitment, and they often have a half-dozen projects lying around; they love the idea of creation more than follow through

- they let their emotions dictate their routines; one bad mood and their thrown off the entire day

- they create drama in relationships just to feel important; they struggle to balance their desire for independence with their need for validation from their partner

- when it comes to shared resources or intimacy they can be control freaks and micro-manage every detail, demanding perfection from themselves and their partners

- pursue higher education in unconventional philosophies or spiritual practices

- they talk about “justice” and “fairness” but rarely take a stand on anything, using intellectual posturing to mask their lack of depth

- come off secretive and intimidating in their professional life, and can appear ruthless if their reputation or authority is challenged

- they guard their ambitions fiercely and don’t let anyone know their true intentions or how much they crave power

- their social groups seem large and varied, but their connections can feel superficial; they come off as the flaky friend who’s always onto the next big thing

- they’re secretly terrified of failing or losing control, their hidden fear of inadequacy eating away at them

- they pretend everything is fine but behind-the-scenes there’s burnout or self-sabotage

[sipsnettletea]

ohhh my god i saw peter is a dm headcanon and i’m. YES!!

peter alternating between twenty pages of detailed prep, and sessions done on nothing but a joint, a can of redbull and a prayer. peter having a fantastic repertoire of voices and accents to use for npcs. pete having people at his tables crack up and shed tears. he’s a forever dm by choice, loves drawing threads of story and encouraging players. he’s taught so many people how to play. he has a multi-year campaign running with friends from home. he has a Hoard of dice.

he’s so good at knowing what players want. if xeno and pandora, for example, play, they’ll all smoke a joint beforehand and have the most meta, weird ass experience. marlene and sirius, it’s combat heavy. sirius also loves trying to seduce villains. james likes combat, but he also loves flirting with npcs and deepening pc relationships. peter makes it work for all of them!!!