#if i haven't made it blatant before
Note
What are good stories for the new gods. And sorry for my last and my mind just thinks stuff randomly sometimes sorry
Don't worry at all, always happy to give comic recs! Sorry for the late reply, I wanted to read the Forever People miniseries I hadn’t read yet to see if they were worth recommending. They were not.
Please keep in mind that this is not a reading list, but rather a rec list of New Gods comics I’d consider good. Unfortunately that’s mostly Mister Miracle. Please pour one out for the Forever People and their complete lack of good comics aside from their debut.
Of course, the original fourth world trilogy — The New Gods (1971), The Forever People (1971), and Mister Miracle (1971) — forms your base and is required reading. (Kirby's run on Mister Miracle ends after #18, and that's when you should stop reading because Englehart's Mister Miracle sucks.)
Others are:
The Hunger Dogs, a graphic novel continuation of the New Gods by Jack Kirby. Kirby was forced to cancel the comic prematurely and this wraps up some (though sadly not all) loose ends, although likely not in the way that was originally intended. Better ending than the original, imo, though far from perfect.
Orion, the only Orion solo run to date and one of my favourite comics of all time. Truly can't overstate how good this one is.
Justice League of America #183-185 isn't solely about the New Gods but I really like Scott and Barda in it. Pre-crisis.
Mister Miracle Special, a oneshot that was intended to re-establish the Mister Miracle canon post-crisis, but really ended up just being a stand-alone story. My favourite Scott outside of the original series.
Mister Miracle (1989) is Scott's second and longest running solo. I have my issues with it, but it's still very much worth reading.
Mister Miracle and the Source of Freedom is a post-flashpoint Shilo Norman miniseries. Again, I have my issues with it, primarily my hatred of N'vir Free as a character concept, but it's a very interesting take on Shilo and has by far my favourite Thaddeus Brown and Oberon.
Also, I’ll rec the Jack Kirby 100th Celebration Collection, which is exactly what it sounds like. As in all collections, the writing varies between stories, and I recommend some but not others, so here’s a quick overview of the New Gods-centric stories in it:
The first one, about Shilo Norman and the Black Racer (unsure of the name), I really can’t recommend because I absolutely loathe its take on the Black Racer. While it keeps to the letter of the canon established by Kirby, I do not feel like it keeps to the spirit. The little ‘Soul of Willie Walker’ blurb by Mark Evanier that precedes it is interesting, though.
The second story, The Resistance!, I very much do recommend! I really adore this story, focusing on resistance efforts on Apokolips, because I feel like it’s one of the few post-Kirby stories that actually does a good job engaging with the fascism Darkseid and Apokolips represent. This story is essentially a better version of the one from the New Gods Secret Files, which I don’t necessarily recommend because it’s far too sloppy to actually be good, but it’s not bad either, so you know, it gets a mention.
The third New Gods story, focusing on Orion (I also don’t know this one’s name), is like, fine? It does that thing where they make specifically Orion xenophobic towards the Bugs, rather than the entirety of New Genesis, which I strongly dislike, but aside from that its characterization is decent and it focuses on Kalibak and Orion, so if you like that dynamic this might appeal to you more than me.
The fourth New Gods story, Teeth of the See: A Tale of Young Orion, I do recommend. It’s short and quickly read, but it’s a fun look at an adventure from a younger, less experienced Orion.
#my posts#fourth world#orion#scott free#forever people#also i haven't read all of the New Gods solos#I know I read Conway's but I barely remember it aside from finding it both amusing and baffling for its blatant lying about previous stories#like it didn't just get facts wrong. it got facts obviously and deliberately wrong and lied to you about them#one that stands out to me is when it said Darkseid kidnapped Dreamer because she had the anti-life equation#which is blatantly and obviously wrong! this is immediately apparent when you read the Forever People!#but dear lord did they stand by it#anyway I think that was Conway's run. I'm not even entirely sure. it wasn't awful I don't think but it wasn't very good either#anyway I also didn't read mark evanier's run bc the first issue was like. bad. one panel made the new gods look like they were posing for an#album cover#evanier did do pretty great work on the jack kirby 100th celebration collection so maybe i should give it another shot#but that panel still cracks me up so idk#then the new gods (1984) appears to just be kirby's run??? idk what's up with that#and then new gods (1995) is quite literally unreadable before byrne takes over and after that it's still really bad!#so yeah. f to the new gods none of these ppl can get a good comic unless their name is scott free and even then he's on thin ice
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Three times you take care of Astarion and one time he takes care of you
[ao3 link]
You were a caring person. That much was clear from the first moment you let him drink off you, almost to death. It was also clear when you tried to cool Karlach down with a rainy spell so you could hug her. Or give Gale every piece of magic item in your inventory so he could eat it. You enjoyed taking care of people.
However, taking care of Astarion wasn't an easy task. As much as you wanted to be there for him and help him, the vampire was a difficult person to handle. He was like a wild animal, constantly on edge and ready to lash out. It soon became clear that Astarion wasn't used to being on the receiving end of caring. Wasn't used for someone to care at all.
So you went little by little, as to not startle him. You started by simply spending time with him. Patiently listening to his endless complaints and blatant flirting, offering a sympathetic ear and a playful response, respectively. It was clear that Astarion enjoyed your company, even if he didn't always show it. He would often make snarky comments or sarcastic remarks, but you could tell that deep down, he appreciated having someone around.
Of course, you let him drain you dry every night, which honestly left you sick and tired through the day, but it was worth the glint in his eyes and the way his cheeks seemed to light up as if he was alive again.
You couldn't help but notice; he always had a book in his hands. Whether you were at camp or out on an expedition, he was constantly reading. So you began collecting every book you stumbled upon and leaving them on his bedroll for him to find when he returned to his tent. No matter the genre- whether it was a history book, poetry or even erotica- you always gifted them to him.
The first times, he would search around the camp in confusion, wondering who had left them there for him. But after the fifth or sixth book, the vampire's expression would light up with a secretive smile as he eagerly flipped through the pages. It warmed your heart to see him so engrossed in a story, his curiosity evident in his shining eyes. However, you kept your identity hidden: if he knew it was you leaving the books, he might become wary again and you didn't want to risk it after coming this far. This went on for a few weeks until one day, as you were leaving another book, a voice called out from behind you.
"Well, hello there. I suppose the game is up."
You froze, the book still in your hands, as you turned around to see Astarion standing with a sly smile on his face.
"I... erm, I just found these books lying around and thought they might be yours," you said lamely.
He smirked, eyes narrowing as if he saw right through your excuses. "Funny, I don't recall owning any of these books you are holding."
You blushed, avoiding his gaze. "Oh...I must have made a mistake then."
But Astarion just shook his head, walking closer to you until he was within arm's reach. "You think I don't know what you're doing? You haven't exactly been subtle, sweetheart."
You felt your face heat up even more, the blush reaching your ears.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as your voice came out a little squeaky.
Astarion chuckled. "Well, if I didn't know any better, I might suspect that you were trying to seduce me. If you wanted to come into my tent, all you had to do was ask, my dear."
"I-It... It's not like that!" you sputtered out, trying to avoid eye contact with him. "I just thought... you like reading."
"Oh, I do," Astarion said in a low voice. "Among other things."
You swallowed hard as your mind raced. Had he just... Was he implying what you thought he was implying?
"I-I should really get going," you said quickly, turning away from him and almost tripping over your own feet.
But before you could run off, Astarion's hand closed around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. "Wait," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. His expression was a bit serious, a stark contrast to the playful persona he usually wore. "Thanks for the effort. It's almost sweet, doing all this for me."
The two of you stood there for a moment longer before Astarion spoke up again.
"Perhaps we could have a little fun and read them together sometime?" he suggested with a raised eyebrow.
You smiled shyly at him, feeling butterflies in your stomach at his offer.
"I... I would love that," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice.
Astarion's smile widened and he released your wrist. "Wonderful. I look forward to it, my dear. And I do hope the next book is a good one."
You walked away from his tent, trying to convince yourself that the thumping of your heart was simply due to your love for taking care of others.
With each passing day, your meetings with Astarion in his tent became a familiar routine. You allowed him to feed on you, then spent time reading together from the books you had collected for him. It was also a chance for you to study him closely, searching for any other way to care for him. One night, as he read aloud to you, the soothing sound of his voice lulled you into a peaceful slumber, curled up on his bedroll next to him. The next morning, as sunlight flooded the tent, you woke up to find Astarion already awake, holding a book in his hands.
"Good morning," you said, rubbing the sleep off your eyes. "Sorry I fell asleep here."
Astarion raised an eyebrow at you. "No need to apologize. I must say, you look quite lovely when you're sleeping. Although you do not sound that lovely, but well, we can't all be perfect."
You rolled your eyes, then sat up stretching your limbs. As you glanced around the room, your eyes landed on the book in his hand - the one you two had been reading last night. It was almost finished now.
"Wait, you haven't slept?"
He let out a soft laugh.
"My dear, I am an elf. We do not sleep; we trance. And to answer your inquiry, no, I did not partake in that either. It's not something I typically find enjoyable."
You looked at Astarion with confusion and concern. "But... why? Don't you need to rest?"
He gave a casual shrug. "If I enter into a trance, the only memories accessible to me are my own life experiences. And let me tell you, those are not pleasant memories."
"But isn't there a way for you to... just rest? Without the memories, I mean?" You asked.
Astarion smirked, his eyes still fixed on the book in his hands. "Why bother learning how to sleep when I can trance instead?" he quipped "Trancing has always been my preferred method anyway."
You couldn't imagine what it was like, being forced to relive your trauma over and over again every night.
"I’m so sorry, Astarion," you whispered, your voice barely above a hush.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Oh well," he said, "It's all in the past now, isn't it? Just another part of who I am."
You nodded slowly but you couldn’t shrug off his words as easily as he could. You recalled the way he looked when he was trancing - peaceful and unguarded. It was hard to imagine that behind those serene features he was being haunted by his memories.
The day was a blur, as you struggled to maintain a cheerful facade and engage in small talk. However, Astarion's words continued to haunt you. As the evening progressed and you both followed your usual nightly routine, you made a decision to do something.
"Astarion." He turned to you, a curious look on his face. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage."I think we could try something different tonight. Do you trust me?"
Astarion looked at you as though surprised by the question, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes.
"Trust is a strong word, darling," he replied, a smirk forming on his lips. "But yes, I suppose I do trust you."
"Good," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart.
You cleared your throat as you settled into the bedroll, signaling for him to join you. Astarion raised an eyebrow but followed your lead, settling into the bedroll beside you.
"Rest your head on my lap," you instructed softly
Astarion's eyebrows shot up once more, but then he shrugged and followed your instructions. He cautiously rested his head on your lap, surprising you with his compliance. Sensing the tension in his body, you refrained from touching him yet, and instead reached for your bag. He watched you curiously as you took out a small jar.
"What's that?" he asked, his eyes glinting with intrigue.
"It's a special blend of herbs and oils that I use to help me relax and sleep better," you explained, opening the tub and taking out a small dab of the mixture. "Can I touch you?"
He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, before he answered, "Yes you may."
You rubbed the mixture between your fingers before gently massaging it onto his temples and forehead. You could feel him tense under your touch, probably not used to this kind of contact.
"Does it help?" he asked quietly, his eyes closed.
"It helps me," you replied honestly. "I'm not sure if it'll have the same effect on you, but I figured it's worth a try."
He nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," you replied, smiling back down at him. "Now just close your eyes and try to relax. Let your thoughts drift you away."
Astarion blinked, his long lashes fluttering against his pale skin. He looked at you with a mix of surprise and skepticism, clearly hesitant to follow your lead. But he didn't protest, didn't push your hands away. Instead, he nodded slightly, closing his eyes once more.
You watched him closely, noticing how the tension in his jaw gradually subsided and the creases on his forehead smoothed out little by little. You continued gently massaging his temples, the rhythmic movements soothing both of you.
The change in his demeanor prompted a fluttering sensation in your stomach that you hastily shrugged away, reminding yourself not to read too much into it.
Eventually, you started running your fingers through his hair and Astarion let out a contented hum, adjusting himself slightly in response. You could have sworn he was purring, and it seemed like he had fallen into a deep slumber.
By the end of the night, you were asleep with your hands still gently stroking his head.
From that moment, a subtle tension seemed to linger between the two of you. It was unspoken, but present every time you were alone together. Astarion would ask for your help to fall asleep each night, and without fail, he would drift off quickly and sleep soundly. You loved watching him relax under your touch, feeling his body go limp and his soft sleepy sounds. But more than that, you enjoyed drifting off with your fingers tangled in his soft curls, your heart feeling light and at ease in his presence.
However, the perils of your journey became worse as your party reached the Underdark. Your main concern became avoiding attacks from shadow monsters, leaving little room for any attention to whatever connection was building between you two.
One night, as you approached Astarion's tent, you noticed him sitting cross-legged in front of his small mirror. His brow was furrowed and his expression was one of deep contemplation. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should disturb him or not.
"Looking at something?" he suddenly asked.
You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to break the silence.
"How did you see me?"
"The only benefit to a mirror when you have my condition. It doesn't quite make up for the lack of a reflection, mind you."
And then it clicked. He couldn't see his own reflection. Why hadn't it occurred to you before?
"Do you miss it? Your own face, I mean."
Of course he did, what a stupid question.
"Preening in the Looking Glass? Petty vanity?" Astarion scoffed, "Of course I miss it."
Astarion's tone was bitter, his gaze fixed on his reflection-less face in the mirror. You sat down next to him, mirroring his position.
"I've never even seen this face not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red"
So he hadn't seen his face in over 200 years. You couldn't imagine what that must feel like. To not have seen your own face in over two centuries. To be unable to remember how it even looked like.
After your conversation, ideas began to circulate in your mind. You considered asking Gale to use his magic to transform your appearance to match his, but that would only be temporary. You wanted something more permanent that would allow him to admire his own face whenever he pleased. The thought of enchanting his mirror so that it would reflect his image crossed your mind. Surely there had to be a spell for that. However, time was limited and you were unsure how much you could dedicate to the task anyway. Then, an answer presented itself at the Last Light Inn when you encountered an artist on your way.
"How long would it take for you to paint a portrait?"
"Like, a month?"
"I will pay you triple if you finish it in a week."
Although the artist was hesitant, the promise of triple payment was too tempting for him to turn down. And so, a week later, you returned to Astarion's tent with a canvas in hand. He arched an eyebrow in question.
"What is this?" Astarion asked, gesturing towards your offering. "Another gift? At this rate, my tent will be overflowing with your generosity."
You grinned and gently set the canvas on the floor in front of him. A delicate, sheer fabric covered its surface.
"This is a special one, though."
His eyes glossed over with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as he leaned forward to unwrap it. An expectant silence filled the tent, the only sound being the rustle of fabric as he carefully lifted the veil. The sight that greeted his gaze left him momentarily speechless - an exquisitely painted portrait of a man, elegantly handsome with sharp, angular features and piercing red eyes.
"What is this?" Astarion asked with a chuckle, clearly admiring the artwork."You've given me a portrait of a handsome stranger? How thoughtful, dear. But the quality could be better, honestly."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you whispered, "That's you," holding your breath for his reaction.
There was a tense moment of silence as Astarion stared at the portrait. You couldn't quite read his expression, and your heart started to race with anxiety. Had you made a mistake? Was he displeased with the gift? Maybe you were intruding too much in his personal life...
After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally spoke. "This is... me?" His voice was barely above a whisper, almost disbelieving.
You nodded, tears welling in your eyes.
"Yes. I wanted you to have something that would allow you to see yourself again, so I asked an artist at the Last Light Inn to paint you."
His fingers traced over the painting, brushing lightly over the likeness of his own face, his own eyes - red now - but still his. He took a step back as if he'd been hit, staggering slightly. There was a moment where he just stood there, staring at the man in the portrait - at himself.
"Is this... is this how I look now?" He asks, voice barely audible.
You swallowed hard and nodded, "Yes."
"I..." he started, then stopped. Shaking his head, he turned towards you with a conflicted look in his red eyes. "I... don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," you told him reassuringly, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
He looked at you for a long moment before nodding and squeezing your hand back. A tear trickled down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away, but not before you saw it glistening in the dim light.
"Thank you," he said finally. It's quiet, almost lost in the silence of the tent, but the sincerity in his voice is unmistakable. You smiled at him, feeling a wave of relief and happiness wash over you.
"You're welcome," you whispered softly.
Astarion's crimson eyes shimmered with tears as he gazed at the painting, struggling to maintain his composure. You gave him a reassuring smile before turning around to give him some space to process his thoughts and feelings. But just as you were about to leave, he reached out and took hold of your hand, stopping you.
"Don't go" he said solemnly. "Please don't go... I'd like to... I want..." slowly, he stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug.
You were taken aback for a moment but then quickly melted into his embrace. After a moment of silence, the vampire spoke softly, his voice raspy.
"I don't know... how to repay you, I..." he murmured into your hair.
"You don't have to," you whispered back, feeling overwhelmed by his sudden display of emotion.
After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally pulled away slightly so that he could look into your eyes. His eyes were moist with tears, but they also held a glimmer of hope, happiness. You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a wave of warmth spread throughout your body from the simple touch. And in that moment, you realized just how deeply you had fallen for this man. It wasn't just a matter of caring anymore; you were deeply and irrevocably in love with him.
And you would tell him, you decided. You would let him know that he didn't owe you anything because you had acted out of love. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your veins. His eyes were still on yours, searching, questioning.
"Astarion...," you started, your voice soft and filled with emotion, "I need to tell you... I..."
However, just as you were about to spill your heart, the sound of someone calling for you pierced through the quiet atmosphere of the tent. With a sigh, you reluctantly untangled yourself from Astarion's arms.
"I'm afraid that's my cue."
He gave a silent nod, his eyes reflecting a mix of conflicting emotions.
"Sure, sure. Wouldn't want to interrupt your exciting duties as our esteemed leader."
You rolled your eyes with a small smile and got out of the tent. However, there was a feeling of disappointed and regret for not being able to express your true feelings to him. You made a mental note to tell him later when you had the chance.
But that night, Astarion didn't come to his bedroll. Nor the next one. Or the one following. You sensed he was putting some distance between you as if something had changed. He continued with his blatant flirting and sly remarks, of course. They just seemed... mechanical. Every time you tried to talk about your feelings, he would deflect or change the subject. Days turned into weeks and still nothing changed between you two. Astarion remained distant and aloof while you struggled with your own emotions, feeling confused and rejected.
One morning, you woke up with a heavy weight on your chest. You initially dismissed it as the usual feeling of sadness that had been lingering for a week now. But after a whole day of choking on your own breath and dizziness, mixed with a deep pounding in your head, you knew this wasn’t the case. Despite your condition, you pushed through the day, determined not to be seen as weak or unreliable by your group.
However, as time passed, it became increasingly difficult to hide your worsening state from everyone else. Your coughing spells were becoming more frequent, and your body was weakening rapidly. You could sense Astarion's worried stare on you from time to time, but he never approached you to inquire about your condition.
That all changed one morning when you couldn't even muster the strength to get out of bed. Your entire body was in pain and your fever was soaring. You heard footsteps approaching your bedrolls and prepared yourself for one of your companions coming to check on you (or more likely, tell you off). However, it was Astarion's smirking face that came into view.
"Well, well, well," he said with a teasing tone, "Seems like our fearless leader is not feeling so fearless anymore. Feeling lazy today, are we?"
You managed to roll your eyes, laying your arm back over them to shield from the morning sunlight peering in through a hole in the tent. "If by lazy you mean sick, then yes." Your voice was weak and raspier than usual. You coughed into your arm, the action causing your body to shake and shudder with discomfort.
"Hmm..." Astarion's voice was no longer teasing. "That doesn't sound good, darling."
His gaze was intense when he leaned down to press his hand against your forehead. You suppressed a shiver at the unexpected coolness it brought and tried to turn away from him. He didn't let you, pushing your hair away from your face with his other hand.
"You're burning up," he said, moving away from you but not before you saw the worry flash briefly in his eyes. He stood up abruptly and started pacing around your bedroll, "What can I do?" He asked more to himself than you.
"Nothing… I just need… rest..." You managed to respond before another coughing fit washed over you.
Astarion shook his head "I'm going to get Shadowheart and Halsin. They will know what to do."
Astarion hurried out of the tent, and surely a few minutes later he came back bringing your two companions. As Halsin handed you the potion and Shadowheart casted her healing spells, Astarion's hand brushed against yours briefly before pulling away.
"Thank you," you whispered weakly before passing out.
A few hours later, after resting and drinking more disgusting beverages than you could count, your fever had finally subsided a bit and your coughing fits were less frequent. Astarion stayed by your side through the whole ordeal, a comforting silhouette against the flickering candlelight. You closed your eyes and felt his cold hand soothingly stroke your forehead. The cool, comforting touch of his skin against yours was a relief from the fever heat radiating off your body.
"Feel any better?" Astarion asked, raising an eyebrow.
You attempted a smile, "Well, I'm not dead yet."
His lips twitched in response, a semblance of his usual smirk flickering across his handsome face. "Good. That would be inconvenient for my dietary needs."
Despite feeling weak and exhausted, you couldn't help but chuckle. It was a welcome distraction from the constant throbbing pain in your head and rattling chest.
He shifted awkwardly on his seat next to you, looking almost hesitant, before he started speaking again. "I... I was scared of losing you," he admitted, "And I have to confess something."
His usually confident and cocky demeanor was replaced with an almost childlike uncertainty.
"What is it?" You asked, your voice still weak but full of concern.
He sighed heavily before meeting your gaze.
"I had a nice simple plan; to manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. And honestly, I thought it would be so easy, with you being so open, so eager to care for everyone..." He frowns, "But that is the thing. You are so kind, so thoughtful. No one's ever cared for me the way you have. And... I don't know how to handle it."
You reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing it gently. "I understand," you said softly. "It's not easy to let someone take care of you, but you don't have to push me away. You deserve love and happiness just like everyone else."
He nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I want to try," he said, determination flickering in his gaze. "I want to let you take care of me. And I want to take care of you, if you let me."
You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words.
"Of course. But first, I feel like I need to tell you something too." You took a deep breath before continuing, "I...I think I'm falling in love with you."
He looked at you puzzled, before letting out a loud laugh.
"Oh, my love. I already knew."
You were taken aback by his words. "What? You did?"
He rolled his eyes "Dear, you were hardly subtle about it. A portrait? Essential oils? Come on..."
You couldn't help but laugh at his response, feeling relieved and embarrassed all at once.
"I guess I'm not as sneaky as I thought," you said, shaking your head.
"But I'm not better." He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I've been falling for you since the moment you started leaving books on my bedroll."
With that, he closed the distance between you and pressed his lips against yours in a soft kiss. It was like a spark igniting, sending waves of electricity through your body. In that brief moment, all the emotions and tensions that had been building between you seemed to dissipate into thin air. The softness of his lips against yours was like a warm embrace, melting away any doubts or fears you may have had.
When you both pulled away, you rested your forehead against his and whispered, "You are going to get ill now."
He chuckled, "How fortunate I am already dead then."
Yet, in that moment, the gleam of his eyes made him seem more alive than you had ever seen him.
#astarion ancunin#bg3 astarion#astarion x reader#bg3#bg3 fanfic prompt#bg3 tav#astarion x tav#baldurs gate 3#astarion baldurs gate#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3 prompts#astarion prompt
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Hello! Can you write for Gale, Astarion and Halsin's reaction to tav wearing the wavemothers robe? Nsfw please😳
An Intricate Jewel
Tales tell of a most wondrous fish, scales resplendent, an intricate jewel that shone beneath the sea. When it died, the Wavemother gifted its hide as a robe to her most devoted follower - and demanded she drown the sailors that killed her gem-bright fish. - Item Description
Halsin, Gale & Astarion x Reader
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3
Format: Headcanons
Gender Neutral Reader
Masterlist
I haven't actually gotten to this robe in my own playthrough yet, but I've seen plenty of it online lmao. This one isn't fully nsfw but it's spicy. -Finn
Halsin
"Oh. You look stunning, my heart."
He is openly admiring you any chance he gets. It is shameless because why would he be ashamed of looking at you? Of admiring all of nature's bounty before him.
He's handsy if you allow it, holding onto your hips where the slits of the dress show off your skin. Pressing kisses to the back of your neck just over the collar. Halsin always loves getting to see more of your skin, and this dress is certainly showing it off.
In general, he is a big believer in wearing whatever you want and enjoying it. He's hardly going to get jealous about others getting to admire you, so long as he's allowed to look as much as he pleases as well.
Even better, when you still have water clinging too you after being healed, dripping down your skin and making the dress cling even tighter.
You'll have him pressed up to your back to murmur in your ear about what he would like to do to you the moment you can both slip away.
And once you get the chance, he'll be between your thighs with the skirt pushed up around your hips. And you'll get to see just how long he can gold off before tearing the dress off of you completely.
Gale
"Oh! Yes, well, um, you look lovely! That sure does, well, show off your figure. Hmm. Yes."
This man is bright red and cannot look away from you. Yes, he can be blatant in his own flirting, but you make his brain shut down sometimes. And in this dress? Oh Gods
He is trying so incredibly hard to be a gentleman. He is NOT staring at your legs or the cut out in the back of the dress or how much it reveals of your chest or the way it clings to you as close as he wants to be. He is definitely not thinking about any of that. He missed his spell for unrelated reasons.
Show off in front of him, put yourself in his line of sight constantly. He will be going insane trying to stay polite and focused. And it's always a fun game to see if you can make him trail off in the middle of a monologue about magic.
Gale will spend an entire day suffering and watching you and trying not to say anything about it, but the moment the party breaks camp, he is dragging you into his tent to show you just how much he likes this dress on you.
You've left him so pent up after the whole day. He can't get enough of you, touching and grabbing and kissing you like you're the air he needs to survive.
The dress stays on until he's made sure you are both fully sated for the night. And he swears that if you wear it again he won't be so patient.
And if he's going to make a promise like that, he shouldn't be surprised when you wear it the next day.
Astarion
"Ohoho, please do say you're all dressed up for me, love."
He thinks this is delightful and would do the same thing if he could find something flattering enough.
Trying to tease him with it? No, that's his game. He's teasing you by letting his hands just barely touch you, appearing behind you to whisper in your ear about how delectable you look. Then slipping away before you can say anything back.
If he's noticing anyone else paying you too much attention, he'll make fun of them for it, but he's also likely to stick closer to your side, his arm around your waist. Showing the world that you're his.
He's the least worked up about the dress, but he likes it when you still stay by his side regardless of how much attention it gets you. He's just as much yours as you are his, and he'll be more than willing to reward you for being such a sweet thing all day.
He wants to see the way the fabric presses into your skin when you arch your back and let him sink his teeth into your neck.
#finnwrites#baldur's gate 3 x reader#baldur's gate 3#bg3 x tav#bg3 x reader#bg3#halsin x reader#halsin#halsin silverbough#gale dekarios x reader#gale x reader#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#gale of waterdeep x reader#astarion x reader#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion acunin x reader#headcanons
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Part two of 'Intruder' <3
'Intruder' Kaz Brekker x Reader (part 2)
Prompt - A few months had passed since you stumbled into the crow club, leaving the crows curious as to who they were. How will the crows react to the most vulnerable secret of Kaz Brekker finally being revealed?
- Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Civilian!Reader (Gender neutral)
- Warnings: none? again just Kaz being soft, some mentions of the break in but literally PURE FLUFF
A/N: Once again i am incredibly grateful for all the love and support, and hopefully i have done justice with this part two! it can be read as a stand alone, some of the context will be confusing, but hopefully still just as cute! if you haven't read the first part, you can find it here!!
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A couple of months had passed since your less than ideal first meeting with the crows. Since that frantic day, your locks had been switched to the latest designs, being inspected thoroughly by your lover until even he, the master of his trade, struggled to crack them.
Although you were still paranoid beyond belief each time you turned the key to your home, the knowledge that Kaz had thoroughly ensured your protection settled the nerves fluttering in your chest. Frequent visits from your husband weren’t unusual, often slipping away from his desk during the earliest hours to bask in your company, allowing you to bathe him with love and affection, something he had slowly accepted and found he thoroughly enjoyed, only on one condition.
It had to be from you.
But since that night, he came over more frequently, stopping off after heists with gifts he had ‘bought’, or dropping in to work on blueprints, stating that there was too much paper cluttering the desk in his usual space, making you smile at his blatant lies just to be closer to you.
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Kaz vigorously battled with his mind on the night you visited the crow club, having to repress his heart's wishes to stay with you, for your safety, and his peace of mind.
However, he dragged himself back, leg stiffening in the frigid air, sending sharp bolts of pain through to his bone. Yet that wasn’t what plagued the man as he limped back to the slat. What haunted him most was the idea that he would have to confront his crows about his one true weakness.
Evidently being you.
Kaz demanded each crow's presence, ordering them to his office as soon as the sun began to slowly bleed its light into the impenetrable darkness of Ketterdam. Once they were situated in the cramped room, he hardened his gaze and lowered his voice, morphing it into a deadly tone.
“I am aware that last night may have surprised you, however you are not to speak a word of it to anyone. Not to dregs, customers, or civilians. Do I make myself clear?” Kaz bit out, leading Jesper to swallow thickly, Nina to shift her gaze to the condensation on the windowpane, and Inej and Wylan to both find wonderfully interesting specks of dirt on the panels of the floor.
The crows remained true to their word, still in awe at the mysterious figure who seemed to have tamed the Bastard of the Barrel, but far more scared of the consequences that may come with disobeying their boss’s order. However, Kaz had made a grave mistake with his command, demanding your existence to remain unbeknownst to the dregs, but never specifying that they were forbidden from discussing you with each other.
You became somewhat of a legend amongst the crows, appearing frequently in gossip which they housed in their cramped rooms at the slat, waiting for the clicking sound of a cane and heavy footsteps to disappear into their owner’s office to begin discussion.
“How long do you reckon they've been together for? I mean, I have never seen Kaz holding anyone’s hand before,” Nina mumbled through a mouthful of pastry, whilst wearing a highly quizzical look.
Jesper smirked at the group, “How did Kaz even manage to find someone like that, furthermore, how did Kaz keep it a secret for so long?” the sharpshooter questioned, one eyebrow raised far above the other. “They seemed so lovely, its surprising Kaz would let someone like that so close to him,” Inej chimed in, sharing a similar curiosity towards you.
As the weeks rolled on, the crows began dropping subtle hints to their leader of their interest in meeting you formally, evidently following the rules of the warning he dealt on the night of the intrusion. Curiosity was consuming the group, and even Kaz couldn’t deny his intensifying wish to display his proudest achievement to his closest friends, his relationship with you.
Unbeknownst to the crows, you too had been troubling Kaz about meeting his friends, desperate to erase your first impression on them and truly show yourself, not the terrified stranger begging for comfort.
After several nights of thorough bargaining with your husband, he reluctantly agreed to introduce his group to you, on the condition that you would be far from the Barrel’s hotspots, somewhere unreachable by rival gang’s watchful eyes. Squeezing Kaz’s hands tight, and giving him an appreciative kiss, you bound off to prepare for tomorrows event, leaving a softly smiling husband in your wake.
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Kaz couldn’t decipher his emotions as they rushed through him at an alarming pace, feeling anxious, excited, and fearful all at once. The pair of you had settled for your favourite café, a small establishment on the outskirts of the city, residing on a flower ridden street, colourful lanterns hanging like falling stars from ropes above the houses. The sight was a direct juxtaposition of the intensity found in your husband’s usual Barrel life, but a contrast which never failed to warm Kaz’s heart whenever he stepped foot there with you.
Dressed in your finest, you waited anxiously at the largest table the cramped café had to offer, adorned with scented candles, besides an array of flowers you had picked early that morning, dew still dripping from a few of the glistening forget-me-nots. You sat beside Kaz, gripping tightly to his gloved hand, the other fidgeting with the edge of his coat as a distraction.
Kaz instantly picked up on your nervous state, squeezing your hand in reassurance and brushing a whisp of fallen hair out of your gently lit eyes, staring long enough to just catch the flicker of the candles within your irises. “They’re only my crew, darling. If they do anything wrong I will…” Kaz began, but he was cut short by your breathy laugh. Apparently, the wrath of your husband against those who threatened you extended even to his closest and most trustworthy companions.
The door swung open, revealing a well dressed set of crows, their eyes steering directly to the couple before they briskly made their way over to you. A sudden fear rose within you, but you refused to display the same expression you had at the crow club, willing to give your best performance until the feeling subsided. You shot each one a welcoming smile, exchanging pleasantries as they made themselves comfortable.
The fear shattered within you as you took each of the crow’s expressions in, which all seemed to strangely resemble awe? Excitement? Your initial confusion was brought to a standstill as Kaz turned to them, stating clearly, “Everyone, this is Y/N, my wife,” offering a tight-lipped smile to his friends.
Nina suddenly spat out her drink, eyes bulging as Jesper made a choking sound somewhere in the back of his throat. Inej and Wylan sat looking dumbfounded, the boy’s jaw hanging slightly open.
“Uhmm. Excuse me, let’s take a few steps back, shall we? Wife?!” Jesper exclaimed, completely in astonishment. Kaz took a deep breath in before tightening his hold on your hand, clearly apprehensive to reveal his most vulnerable softness to his friends, who had rarely seen more than a smirk from their stoic boss. As the crows gathered their thoughts and tried to configure logical reasoning as to what had been revealed, the elderly owner of the café hobbled over, giving Kaz a toothy grin.
“It’s been a while Mr Brekker! I was wondering when we would be graced with your presence again, I have already prepared your regular, peach pie with…” The woman began but was cut off sharply by a “Thank you,” from Kaz, as he turned his head to hide his embarrassment. Nina let out a snort as the other three simultaneously burst into giggles, causing you to fall victim to the contagiousness of the laughter.
By this point Kaz was beyond mortified, being called out as a ‘regular’ at a joyful family-run café at the edge of the Barrel, as well as having his guilty pleasure exposed to his crew who he was positive would never let this go.
Despite this humiliation, Kaz felt a drop of warmth seep into his chest at the sight of you conversing with his friends, immediately connecting with each one of them. He felt something moving inside of him, deciding it was probably you, chipping away at his apparently impenetrable walls.
As the late afternoon clouds faded into the evening haze, the group departed with delighted goodbyes and warm hugs, establishing the beginning of many trips to visit Kaz’s (now) not-so-secret wife. You left them armed with new candles for the slat, baked goods, and most impressively, trinkets from the market which you had bought personally for each crow, going solely off your husband's descriptions of each individual.
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A glowing warmth radiated from the couple as you both walked, fingers entwined, back to your home, taking in the constellations which lit up the tranquil streets you winded through. Kaz decided to reward himself with a rare but well-earnt night in, with the single intent of being doused in your affection.
Kaz smiled lovingly down at you, as you peacefully slept wrapped in his shirt and coat, wiped out by the intense emotions that poured through you that day.
Crouching down slowly, your husband fiddled with a stray piece of your hair, admiring how the serene glow from the fire softened your features, catching in your figure perfectly, framing your face in a halo of light.
He settled down next to you, exhausted but proud. Proud of how far you two had come, which flooded him with a sense of relief. Because as it turns out, his crows could undoubtedly see the same beauty he was blinded by within you.
And it was clear in this moment, both to him and his crew, that Kaz Brekker was more than just in love with you. His entire existence was plagued with sentiment for you, and for once Kaz couldn’t seem to view it as a weakness, rather a sign that something deep inside him was healing.
“I love you, darling of my heart,” Kaz whispered as he kissed you goodnight.
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tag list: @chaoticbeanz @kryptonitewizard @alanis-altair @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy <33
#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x reader fluff#kaz brekker#kaz brekker imagine#kaz brekker x reader imagines#six of crows x reader#six of crows imagine#six of crows#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone#kaz brekker x you#ashessonfire#shadow and bone season 2
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I don't normally like make requests from people if it's obvious I'm sorry for my awkwardness.
Anyway you were saying how you were really into Jordan li recently so am I and I've read every single fanfiction or every rant there is about them and I crave more. I have been in a angst/fluff mood and I haven't seen anyone do this idea either. I was thinking thinking maybe Jordan and reader gets into an argument (not really picky about what) and the argument gets really heated (you know how jordan shifts into their male form to Intimidate or get their point across) Jordan shifts into their male form which scares reader (I'm thinking reader doesn't have a good past with angry men) and reader backs away from them in fear Jordan notices and tries to comfort them but reader flinched when Jordan touches them. Reader then asks them to leave so they do but Jordan spends like a week trying to make the situation better.
(I would also like to put reader isn't scared of Jordan more so the action of the blatant Intimidation tactic they tried to use against reader. Reader is angry that jordan would try to scare them even if it wasn't on purpose it still hurt)
Jordan sorta just spends a week following reader around Like a lost puppy trying to treat reader like a absolute queen even if reader won't really acknowledge them until Jordan has an breakdown while drunk coming to readers dorm begging for forgiveness.
Again if its obvious I don't know how to make requests I'm sorry this has just been on my mind for so long.
A/N: this request is absolutely perfect, and exactly to my tastes. thank you for sending it, doll!
WORD COUNT: 4k+ under cut | hurt/comfort and angst/fluff
It’s hard sometimes, knowing when to push and when to just let Jordan be. Not at all a skill you learned over night. You’d gotten good at the push and pull of bringing them out of their shell back when the two of you had just been friends. Better at it than anyone else, at least. It was a slow process, but every second was worth it.
Now on the good days you don’t have to push at all. A hand on their arm. A coaxing smile or two. Any act of connection, no matter how small, enough to make them tell you what’s on their mind. Even if they scowl the entire time they let it out. It’s the letting it out at all that counts. Progress!
Today you miscalculated. It’s been a bad week. Jordan hadn’t dropped in the rankings, but their points took a small dip. They hadn’t been very active on their socials, busy doing work as Brink’s TA. But the point gap between where Jordan sits at #2 in the rankings, and where Andre sits at #3 is still a wide open chasm.
It’d take something truly disastrous to knock Jordan from the spot they’ve held for three years now. But the rankings are more important than anything to Jordan. No matter how gently you try to bring logic into the situation, Jordan gets irritated quickly, accusing you of not taking it seriously. You often wonder how that could be, considering you’re in the top eight yourself, but you bite your tongue and don’t bring it up.
The group had tried to go out for lunch. It was okay at first, everyone making an effort to ignore the storm cloud Jordan cast over the table as they picked at their food. Then Andre had made some type of stupid joke. Not even about the rankings, but enough to make Jordan snap at him. The situation escalated so quickly that Cate had threatened to take off her glove and make everyone shut up. You paid your portion of the bill and dragged Jordan out before anyone could start up again.
And now you’re here, somehow also on the shit list for not being supportive enough. As if being supportive isn't everything you do. Day in and day out.
“I can’t believe you’re taking his side. You don’t honestly think it was an innocent comment, do you?” Jordan snaps, standing up from your couch to pace the length of your dorm room.
“You know how Andre is. He gets sarcastic when he’s hungover, and he was packing a double whammy. He did coke and got drunk last night. He was just a little off. He wasn’t making a real dig at you.” You defend your friend, knowing Jordan will regret what she said at lunch once she’s calmed down.
“Oh, so we’re all just supposed to tiptoe around his highness? If he was gonna be a dick during the entire thing he should have just skipped coming out with us.” Jordan’s eyes narrow in on your expression, the sudden pursing to your lips and looking away. “What?” She snaps.
You take a deep breath at the tone, “Well, Jordie, if you want me to be honest Andre wasn’t the only one who wasn’t on their best behavior today.”
A beat of silence.
You look up and there goes Jordan rolling her shoulders back, eyebrows practically in her hairline and you sigh. You definitely should have brought up her attitude later.
“You really are taking his side!” She scoffs in disbelief.
“Nope. No, I am not, there are no sides. We’re all friends. Friends fight. I’m just trying to remind you that you actually are friends. You can’t just…” You trail off, uncertain.
“I can’t just what?” She throws up her hands, volume raising.
“You can’t act like this every time the rankings do something that isn’t spectacular for you. I know they mean a lot to you but you can’t take the numbers out on the people who care about you.”
“You just don’t get it-”
“But I do get it! We talk about it all the time. Your feelings are completely valid, the way you react to them isn’t. You’ve been giving Andre looks that could kill all week and he didn’t even do anything. If he was a little snappy at lunch, maybe he’s upset that his friend has been treating him like shit over something he barely cares about.”
“Well if I’m so-” Jordan shifts, pitch of his voice deepening, on the verge of yelling, “-fucking awful why don’t you go run to Andre and cry about it together?”
He only takes two steps towards the couch before you use your powers. It’s instinct, the way the forcefield bubbles up around you.
Whatever Jordan was going to say next shrivels up and dies on his tongue. The only sounds in the room are the quiet hum your powers make when you use them, and the scared, panicked gasp you make from inside the forcefield you put up to protect yourself from him.
There’s a second where the two of you just stare at each other. Both in shock.
“Baby-” Jordan tries taking another step forward, a small, barely there shuffle of his foot. His face falls when the forcefield gets a little louder, glows a little brighter.
Jordan looks close to tears. It’s that expression that pulls you out of the animal state of fear you’d fallen into. You look away from them. Take a few heaving breaths. Do your best to not mix up faces of the past with your present and future.
Your forcefield flickers out slowly. A concentrated effort.
“Fuck, Y/N, I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- I would never ever-'' Jordan shifts again. She rushes too fast into your space to kneel on the ground in front of you, her hands reaching for yours, desperate and clumsy.
When you flinch away, moving so you’re perched on the armrest of the couch, still trying to calm yourself down, she’s left with her hands grasping at air. “Baby, look at me. Please? Look at me, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry. I would never hurt you. I fucking swear I wasn’t-”
“I know, Jordan.” You shake your head, trying to stay calm. “Could you please….leave? I… I can’t calm down right now. I’m trying. I know you didn’t mean to… to scare me, but I need you to go.”
“Baby, wait, fuck. Fuck, wait! I’m sorry. Let’s just talk. I can’t leave you alone like this. I’m sorry.” She’s panicking now, throat feeling like it’s closing up.
She doesn’t try to reach for you again, but her hands feel like they’re burning from the effort it takes to keep them away from you. It’s instinct to hold you, to make it better, to pull you closer. She’s always been the place you run to when you’re scared, the shield you step behind when you need to feel safe. She doesn’t know what to do when you don’t even want to be near her.
“We’ll talk later. I’ll… I’ll have Cate come over so I’m not alone. Just.. leave.” Your voice breaks on a sob, and you’re begging her to leave, and that’s what makes Jordan head to the door, legs shaking. She’s never made you cry before.
She’s glued to her phone the rest of the day, waiting for you to call. You don’t.
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You’ve been best friends since you were freshman. You haven’t gone longer than two days without talking in all that time since. No matter how busy you are. No matter how shitty either of you feels. Jordan doesn’t know what to do with the hours of the day that you usually fill.
She breaks on the second day when you show up to class and move to sit by Luke on the other side of the room instead of with her. You don’t even look at her as you walk by.
Class doesn’t start for another five minutes. The teacher isn’t even here yet, and she’s always late. Jordan moves to get up, already feeling like she’s choking on all the words she needs to say to you to fix this, but is stopped by a firm grip around her wrist. She’s about to snap when she realizes it’s Cate, taking up your usual spot in the seat that isn’t up for grabs because it’s Your Seat.
“Don’t make the situation worse. She just wants to go to class. Don’t hound her, Jordan.”
“Hound her?” Jordan’s voice raises, incredulous. “She’s my girlfriend. I need to talk to her.”
“You need to apologize.” Cate bites. “Dick.”
“That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped me.” Jordan speaks through gritted teeth.
“How about you try apologizing after she’s done all her classes? That way, when you inevitably upset her, she doesn’t hole herself up in her room all day crying. And feel bad about missing class on top of it. You know… the way she spent all of yesterday?”
“She cried all day?” Jordan’s shoulders sag, voice getting smaller.
Cate softens, patting Jordan’s hand. “It’s not just about you, and you know that. Triggers like this really fuck with people. And she’s also pissed that she’s triggered in the first place. Let her cool off.”
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He makes it a few hours before he’s trailing after you.
He can tell by the tension in the line of your spine that you know he’s there. But you don’t outright tell him to get lost, so Jordan can’t stop himself from following you around. Even if you don’t want him there.
He sits across from you as you study in the library. Makes puppy dog eyes at you the entire time. He can’t be bothered to unpack his bag. It’d be useless to pretend he’ll do anything besides watching you.
Two hours in, he gets up and leaves, hating the way your shoulders relax as he turns to go.
He comes back twenty minutes later with your favorite foods and drink from the best local coffee shop. You don’t reach for any of it. He’s always loved how stubborn you are, how you stick to your ideas. Your principles. How steadfastly you make up your mind. Right now he’s just a little terrified of that same stubbornness. Remembers when you’d only been friends, that first year of peeling one another open, feeling each other out.
(“I’ll never do it, Jordan.” You’d whispered vehemently, drunk and mad and beautiful.
“Do what?”
“Be with anyone who tries to fucking cow me into submission. It’s fucked. I won’t do it. I’ve had enough of it.”
You’d passed the bottle you’d just had pressed to your lips and Jordan had tried not to think too hard about it, even when he tasted the remnants of your sticky, sweet lip gloss beneath the vodka.)
He doesn’t get up to leave again until you do.
Jordan walks you to your dorm, but trails a few steps behind you. He tried walking directly beside you at first, but your hands brushed together and the look you gave him was cold enough to freeze blood.
So-
-behind it is.
Jordan doesn’t get the chance to say goodnight before you slam the door in his face as loudly as possible.
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Jordan doesn’t push her luck by trying to walk you to your classes the next morning. She does wake up extra early to buy you the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers she could find. She leaves them outside your door and goes to class, hoping you’ll at least acknowledge her, the next time you see her.
During your first shared class of the day you walk in holding the bouquet of flowers. Jordan perks up in her seat, holding her breath. You do finally look at her. You make direct eye contact as you throw the flowers into the trash can at the teacher’s desk.
Jordan does not break her pen in half when Andre whispers “yikes” under his breath.
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Two more days and Jordan feels like he’s going insane. He knows you feel worse. One glance at the carefully nonchalant expression you’ve worn all week tells him that. Putting on a mask is nothing for you. That look is the first thing you learned how to do in the top ten.
You’d never hidden the way you felt around him before. Not like this. His skin keeps buzzing with the urge to corner you. Jordan needs the two of you to talk about what happened. But he’s already walking the world’s thinnest line.
And he knows he can’t force you, if you’re not ready.
Another thing he knows: when you’re this upset you don’t clean. Simultaneously, when your room gets messy your depression gets worse. He skips one of your mutual classes of the day and lets himself into your dorm with the key you gave him during first year.
Jordan looks around, wincing at the chaos. You never let it get this bad. Not even during your most soul crushing finals. He starts by throwing away the trash. The tissues you wiped your tears with. The takeout containers. Pages of your notebooks you ripped out, carelessly thrown around the room. You take awful notes in class when you’re distracted. He hates that he’s distracting you.
He wipes down every surface with your favorite scented cleaner. Dusts your books. Sweeps and mops. Changes your sheets and grabs the brightest, happiest color comforter you have stashed in your closet to put on the bed. As he adjusts the pillows he thinks about how often you spend the night at each other’s dorms. Jordan wonders if you’ve been struggling to sleep like he has.
He hesitates, but goes to his room down the hall to grab his cologne. He spritzes it lightly over the bed and hopes you still find the way he smells comforting.
Next is your laundry. He starts up a few loads, irons and puts away the clothes that were sitting in a wrinkled heap on your couch. You’ve always hated doing your laundry.
He’s heading back to your room, a full laundry basket of clean clothes under each arm when you run into each other.
“Are those my clothes?” You ask, forgetting that you aren’t exactly speaking to him in your moment of confusion.
“Yeah… I’m… I was cleaning my room. Doing some stuff. Figured I’d do a few of your loads too, while I’m already at it.” He shoots for casualness, knows he fails miserably.
“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, words stiff and uncomfortable.
“I know I just…” Jordan shrugs, relieved to be standing within a few feet of you after days of silence, and feeling pathetic over how happy something so small makes him. “Why don’t you go get something to eat with Cate while I finish up here?”
“Finish up what?” You ask.
“I still gotta put these away.”
You sigh, wanting the conversation to end, “You don’t have to put my clothes away, Jordan. Or wash them. I’m quite capable of doing it myself.”
Jordan takes a step back when you make a reach for one of the baskets under his arms. “I know that! Just let me do it. Doing your laundry always pisses you off. I’ve got it.”
A battle of wills ignited. You, staring him down. Jordan, trying not to squirm. He wants to try apologizing again but doesn’t know if he’ll only make it worse.
“Please, baby? Go somewhere nice with Cate. My treat.” He puts down a laundry basket (behind him, so you can’t take it) to grab his phone from his pocket, and does something you can’t see.
When you hear the particular chime your banking app makes when you get a Zelle deposit you roll your eyes. You don’t bother checking your phone and seeing how much he sent. You know it’s too much. But if you say anything he’ll just say you and Cate have expensive tastes (which…true.)
“Maybe you can catch a movie too? I still gotta finish up with your bathroom.”
“Jordan.”
“Just,” Jordan shifts, putting down the other laundry basket and slowly reaching out to grab your hand with hers. She could almost cry when you let her touch you. “I know you’re fucking pissed at me. And I know you’re still too upset to talk about it. But…. fuck, please just let me take care of you. Please. I have to do something. I can’t just sit around, after I made you feel like this. It’s driving me nuts. I’m supposed to-”
You stop her, putting a hand on her cheek and sighing, “Okay, Jordan. I’ll go hang out with Cate while you finish.”
“Don’t ‘hang out’, go get dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you.” She says, sullen and staring up at you, playing with your fingers while you’re still letting her touch you, the first time in days.
“I’ll head to Cate’s.”
“Nah, head to Luke’s. They’re studying together right now.” Jordan takes a risk, stepping into your space slowly, giving you the time to move away. She leans in and kisses your cheek, gentle. When you don’t move away she can’t help herself, kisses the edge of your lips too.
You don’t kiss her back, but you give her hand a squeeze as you pull away. You stop halfway down the hall before you turn back to look at Jordan. “Call Cate and tell her she better not be fucking Luke by the time I get to his dorm.”
Jordan laughs. Your face is a little more relaxed as you turn away this time.
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On Friday the group goes out to the club. They chose one of your favorite haunts, hoping it would entice you enough to join. You still declined the invitation. Everyone knew you would. They still wanted to try.
You claimed you had a lot of work to catch up on.
“She hates me. She fucking hates me.” Jordan groans into his hands, already three drinks and two shots in.
“Well, let’s not panic.” Luke says.
“Or be dramatic.” Andre snorts, taking a shot of his own. “You two are obsessed with each other. Relax.”
“Relax?!” Jordan tenses, “My girl won’t fucking talk to me. How am I supposed to relax?”
“She talked to you yesterday.” Andre drawls.
“That wasn’t anything. We usually-”
“-Spend every free second of the day together? We know.” Luke teases. When Jordan doesn’t even smile he winces and slides him another shot.
“She’s not even that mad. She’s more upset than anything.” Cate says, cuddling into Luke’s side.
Jordan’s eyes follow the movement and he swallows at the distinct lack of your own weight leaning into him. You always get touchy when you’re tipsy. Climbing on top of him, clinging to him like glue. It’s his favorite part of nights out together. That and the playful booing you guys get from the group.
Andre cuts back in, “I’m serious, dude. Relax! You guys have been together for how long now-”
“Three years.”
“-yeah, exactly. Since the fucking building of the pyramids. You two will be fine. She knows you didn’t mean anything by it. One fight won’t kill you.”
“This wasn’t a fight, though. I fucked up! You didn’t see the look on her face. When she used her powers… I mean, fuck! You know? She was scared of me.”
“You know that’s not true, Jordan.” Luke protests.
Jordan runs his hands through his hair, ruining the carefully slicked back style.
“Let’s just get you another drink. Come on, dude.” Andre wraps an arm around Jordan, hauling him to his feet and pulling him towards the bar.
⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊
You get woken up by the sound of knocking on your door. Loud knocking. You keep your eyes closed, hoping whoever it is will go away. You don’t even want to be awake. Let alone socializing.
The knocking gets louder. Exhausted, you drag yourself out of bed. You glance at your phone on the bedside table as you get up. It’s three in the morning. Now you’re exhausted and pissed.
You stomp over to the door, wrenching it open, prepared to cuss someone out. You deflate when you see who it is. “Oh, hey.”
Jordan is leaning heavily on the door frame, staring at you with watery, red eyes. She looks like the walking dead. “Baby. Fuck, did I wake you up? I thought you’d still be awake. You said you were pulling an all-nighter.”
“I was tired. Just wanted to sleep.” You shrug. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Still at the club, took an uber back. Too fucked up for anything else.” She mutters.
“That’s good, Jordan.” You say.
“You haven’t called me Jordan since freshman year. What happened to Jordie?” She sighs.
Your face softens. “Baby…”
“No, wait, just let me…” Jordan leans her forehead against the door-frame, closing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. I’m sorry that when I get pissed I take it out on everyone around me. I’m sorry that I don’t fucking listen when you’re just trying to make me feel better. I’m sorry I yelled… I’m sorry I shift-”
“Whoa, hey.” You cut her off, shocked. “You shifting isn’t the problem, Jordan. Fuck, come inside, honey.” You say, taking her hand and pulling her inside.
You sit the two of you on the couch, clicking on the light so you can see each other. You move so you’re facing each other, pulling her hands into your lap. “First off let’s set one thing straight. You shifting is never the problem, okay?”
“You got so fucking scared.” Jordan looks away, hair falling into her face.
“Not of you.. Just the fucking… optics of it! I don’t ever want you to be something you’re not. And you’ve got the incredible gift of being able to be whatever you feel like being any time you want to.” You reach out and touch her cheek, guiding her to look at you, “I don’t want you to not do that. I wouldn’t ever want you not to do that, okay?”
“Okay.” She says. There’s a moment of silence, then Jordan shifts. He looks for any sign of fear or hesitation, holding his breath. When he doesn’t see any he relaxes. “But I scared you so bad you used your powers.”
“Yeah, that did happen.” You nod, caressing his cheek with your thumb, “Maybe it’s just a little scary when someone bigger and stronger than me starts yelling like that. Also, invulnerable. Let’s not forget that. Food for thought.”
He closes his eyes, “I’m an idiot.”
“For yelling at me? Yeah, just a little. Don’t yell at me like that no matter what form you’re in. That's always scary. Couples talk. They don’t yell. Most of the time. We can’t be the couple that does that.”
“I’ll never yell like that again. Either form. I promise.” Jordan says, “Can I hold you? It’s been a fucking week. I’m losing my mind.”
You laugh, climbing into his lap and Jordan sighs, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. He tucks your head into his neck. “I missed you like fucking crazy.”
“Missed you too.” You sigh, “Stay the night?”
“You’re not leaving my sight for the next two months.” He laughs, pulling you closer.
“Only two months? That’s fucked up, I thought you missed me.” You tease.
“Shut up.” He scoffs, kissing the side of your head.
You snuggle closer, letting the tension of the week drift away.
“You yell at me like that again and your only hope is being invulnerable, actually. I’ll put you through a wall.” You kiss his shoulder cheerfully.
“I’d do it before you got the chance.”
You burst into laughter and he pulls your head away from his shoulder so he can see you the way you’re supposed to look around him. Happy. Content. He can’t stop himself from kissing you. You can’t stop yourself from kissing back.
#jordan li x reader#jordan li imagine#jordan li#gen v x reader#black!reader#first full jordan li fic! super fun to right nonny i am kissing you on the mouth this was INSPIRING#if you see any grammar or spelling errors no you don't lmao
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Hello! Could I request the bros reacting to an a quiet Mc who’s love language is just silently leaving hand-crocheted plushies/items in their room and leaving wintout saying anything? Kind of like how a cat would leave a dead lizard or mouse for you, but instead it’s small handcrafted stuff.
Some people also head cannon Asmodeus as a crocheted or knitter, and it could be fun to keep that in mind if you want.
Thank you in advance, and have a nice day!
Hello, anon!
Okay so you just happened to hit on something that I have knowledge of lol. I haven't crocheted in a while, but it is something I have done quite a bit of! Though I have yet to make an amigurumi type project, I really should get on that.
Anyway, I didn't know about the Asmo headcanon, but you can be sure it has been fully accepted by me now.
Thanks for the request!
the brothers react to GN!MC who leaves them crocheted gifts
Warnings: none!
Lucifer
The first time he finds a little crocheted item in his office or bedroom, he's slightly perplexed. What exactly is this thing made of yarn? But while Lucifer often acts like he's aloof, he pays close attention to you, and he's seen you crocheting before. This causes him to realize that you've left him a gift. In the privacy of his room, he's going to blush because he can't handle how cute you are.
Confronts you about it. MC, did you make this for him? If you try to dodge the question, it won't work. He knows it was you, he just wants to hear you say it. You might as well indulge him and admit it. If you do, he'll tell you he has a gift for you, too, which turns out to be a hug or a kiss.
If you made him a little plushie, he keeps it forever on his desk or beside his bed. Absolutely glares down anyone who might even think about picking it up. If you made him something like a scarf, he wears it at every opportunity.
He's not going to be blatant about it, but the way he clearly cares for the things you've crocheted for him lets you know how he feels. He's protective of them, but he also likes to show them off.
Mammon
You'll be leaving things for him in his room for some time before you realize how much it means to him. Because every time he finds a little crocheted item you've left for him, he stashes it away like a little treasure. He knows they're from you, but he's too embarrassed about how much he loves them to talk to you about it directly.
You figure it out when you stumble upon the stash. It's in his room somewhere safe and you just happened to find it. A little hoard of every crocheted thing you've ever given him. If he's there when this happens, he's going to insist that it isn't because he likes you or anything. Of course you're makin' stuff for the Great Mammon, MC! He just figured he might as well take care of those things since you spent so much time on them and everything.
If you make him an amigurumi crow, he'll lose his mind. Customize it by giving it gold button eyes, maybe using yarn with little gold streaks in it. This becomes his most prized possession.
Mammon is constantly buying you more yarn to make things with. It's not that he wants you to make new stuff for him! (He does.) He just saw some and thought you might like it! (Please keep making him things, MC.)
Leviathan
Oh? What's this? An adorable crochet plushie version of his favorite anime character? He LOVES IT. It's one of a kind! No one has this but him! It's the most limited of limited editions! Yeah, he's thrilled. Like Lucifer, he figures out pretty quickly that it was you because he's seen you crocheting before. He's so happy to have received this item from you, he finds you instantly to tell you how great it is.
MC! W-would you maybe be willing to make him more? Like if you made a little Ruri-chan, you know he's going to want an Azuki-tan, too. At the very least! He starts a whole collection. Custom crochet character plushies. He makes a blog to show them off to people online.
Make him some fingerless gloves to keep his hands warm while he's gaming. You'll find he almost never takes them off. Gets comments about them when he's streaming, but doesn't ever answer any questions about where they came from.
He might actually ask you to show him how to crochet. He might want to make you something in return. He also might be interested in making crochet clothing items to go with various cosplay ideas. He'll give you all these reasons, but secretly Levi just wants to spend time with you.
Satan
He knows exactly what's happening, but he doesn't say anything to you for a little while. He wants to see how many things you'll bring him first. Eventually he can't help himself, though, and he casually mentions how much he appreciates all the little gifts you've been leaving him. You truly are adorable, MC.
He might actually ask you to crochet him a book cozy. He's probably seen them on Devilgram - little pouches for holding a book to keep its pages safe from getting bent up while on the go. If you make it, you can be sure Satan will never part with it again. Though he may need you to make more than one for different sizes of books.
You can really make him blush like crazy if you make him a bunch of cat plushies. Every time he sees a new one, he's overcome by the cuteness. It's the closest he'll ever get to having his own cats in the House of Lamentation and that means so much to him.
Returns your gifts with things he's chosen for you. Writes you poetry. Gives you books of crochet patterns. Makes you bookmarks with ribbons and pressed flowers. He isn't overly demonstrative in general, so this is his way of letting you know how much he loves when you make him things.
Asmodeus
Since he can also crochet and likely knits, too, this becomes a gift-off. Every time you leave him a little something, you find something from him in your room the next day. They're often on theme - for instance, if you make him a plushie of himself (once he's done swooning over it), he'll make you one of yourself. That way you're always matching.
He likes the secretiveness aspect of this, too. Sneaking in your room to leave you gifts is exciting. But he can't keep it up for very long because he wants to tell you how much he loves what you've made. As soon as he sees you've found his gift, he gushes to you about the one you left for him.
Now listen, MC. You can crochet, he can crochet, the only thing you guys could possibly do is design some crochet outfits and accessories! He wants you to model them all for him, too. Posts everything on Devilgram unless you're too shy and then he only posts selfies you've taken with him. Crochet accessories become a trend in the Devildom after that.
Asmo also just loves to crochet with you. Sitting side by side, watching some TV or listening to his brothers bicker or just chatting while you both work on your latest projects. Teaches you new stitches and patterns that he's created over the years.
Beelzebub
As long as you don't make him a plushie cheeseburger or something, he's going to love them. Any time you make anything food themed, you run the risk of it being eaten before he realizes it was actually made of yarn. It's probably something he figures out after the first few times, but even if he knows it's not technically edible, that might not stop him if he gets hungry.
He has a much easier time remembering not to eat things that are not food shaped, though. Make him a little plushie of himself and Belphie and he'll be over the moon. Make him extra happy by giving him one of yourself, too.
If you make him some kind of accessory like a scarf, it just becomes part of his regular outfit. He rarely takes it off, wears it every day. Beel is really protective of it, too. Keeps it safe when he does take it off, makes sure it never gets crumbs on it.
You're really amazing, MC. He's genuinely impressed that you can make so many cute things with just some yarn. He actually loves to watch you crochet because it looks like magic, but you're not actually casting any spells.
Belphegor
Another secret hoarder, so at first you're not sure he's even getting your gifts until he wears something you made. Enjoys gloves and little pillows, but fully appreciates everything you make, even if he acts like he doesn't. Keeps them all next to his pillow on his bed.
While crocheting a blanket can take some time, if you do this for him, you can be sure that blanket will become his favorite thing in the world. He doesn't like to nap without it. If he's going to get cozy somewhere, he brings that blanket with him. He'll love any pattern you go with, but if you make one that matches his cow print pillow, he'll probably lose his mind.
Absolutely loves to wear any and all items you make for him because there is something so soft and cozy about the yarn. He might use all of them as pillows at some point. They're comfortable and they smell like you.
Belphie likes to sleep on your lap while you crochet. He'll hold the ball of yarn for you while he sleeps. He likes to snuggle up with you and he likes the steady rhythm of your body moving with each stitch you make. Please tell him whenever you're planning on sitting and crocheting for a while, MC. It's kind of his favorite thing.
masterlist | Thank you for reading!
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me nb#obey me swd#obey me fanfiction#obey me fanfic#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me brothers#request#anon request#misc writes
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You Can Be My Daddy Tonight
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Warnings: daddy kink, vouyerism, male masturbation, one (1) cunt slap, vaginal fingering
Authors Note: daddy hotch <3
The building was empty except the two of you intertwined together. You sat in Aaron's lap like a prized possession; dolled up and delicate. A sight to be savored. Your plush lips parted slightly as you leaned into kiss him with such love and passion to make Cupid blush. Hotchner responded by placing a large hand upon your waist while the other snaked its way into your hair.
You moaned softly into the kiss blissfully unaware of Spencer stealthing into the office. His brown eyes looked up from his desk into Hotchner's office and blushed deeply at the sight. Spencer had never put much effort into physical intimacy before. But the sight of you placed so beautifully upon Hotch's lap was enough to send a surge of need through him.
He stood there silently as he continued to watch the two of you feel each other. His eyes didn't remain fixated on one of you - rather shifting between the two of you with a greedy hunger. "Daddy..!" You whined as Aaron broke the kiss and the sound was enough to make both men swoon.
"What is it baby? What do you need from Daddy?" He questioned absentmindedly drawing shapes along your hip bone with his thumb. You blushed and looked between the two of you, down to your panty-clad core covered by a white mini-skirt. Aaron's gaze followed yours and he chuckled before gripping your jaw and tapping it with his index finger. "Words, honey."
Hearing his commanding yet gentle tone Spencer felt a shiver run up his spine. He felt his cock begin to grow hard within his slacks. Shyly reaching down, he rubbed his palm against the growing bulge. He wetted his lips with the flicker of his tongue as his attention went back to you both.
"W-Wanna feel you down here," you mumbled out softly as you rolled you hips sensually against his. A low grumble erupted from Hotch's throat as your cotton panties rubbed against his dress pants. "Please, daddy? I've been a good girl!" You begged with a sultry pout.
Hotchner chuckled at your blatant neediness. Such simple words always managed to turn you into a subby princess with ease. Aaron brought a his lips to your neck and gently nipped at it before kissing it better and repeating the cycle.
You let out a soft hum feeling his mouth against your neck, his teeth grazing against your sensitive spot. "Turn around babygirl." Aaron commanded and you were quick to obey. One thing Hotch had prided himself on was how well he had trained you and your slutty holes.
With your back flush against his chest Hotchner gently traced his hands around your upper body. He continued on for a minute before cupping your breast in one hand, using his fingers to tease your nipple. Aaron's free hand slithered down and he grabbed a handful of your weeping cunt.
The sudden touch made you gasp and lean your head back as you wriggled your hips for more. "Patience." He growled out lowly. Spencer bit his lower lip as he unzipped his pants and freed his aching cock. He quietly spat into his hand before beginning to stroke his throbbing member.
A low whimper escaped his lips which he quickly covered up with his other hand. Spencer could feel his balls tingling as he continued to touch himself at the site. What would the other members of the B.A.U think upon seeing the scene unfold?
Their prized, booksmart Spencer Reid degrading himself to nothing but a peeping tom. The icing on the cake was the fact Aaron knew Spencer was there; yet you remained blissfully unaware. Hotchner was sure to put on a show for Reid he wouldn't be forgetting.
Aaron teased your clit with his index finger. Revealing in feeling it twitch and throb underneath his touch. "I've been neglecting this pretty body, haven't I princess?" Hotchner cooed out with faux sympathy. In truth he had been dotting on you endlessly the past weeks, though that didn't mean you didn't crave more.
You nodded along with his words as you eyes fluttered shut from the pleasure. "Feeling good baby? Put on a show for Daddy, alright?" Eager to please you agreed to Hotchner's words and began to roll your hips against his touch. "P-Please daddy!" You begged with a whimper. Not being one to dissapoint Hotchner abliged and slid his hand underneath your panties. His finger swirled around your hole gathering some of your copious slick before returning to your throbbing bud.
Spencer choked back a moan at the sight unfolding before him. He had fantasized about you and Hotchner before, but he had never imagined it would culminate into something so heavenly. His base increased as his breathy moans became more apparent but still silent compared to yours.
"Daddy~" you whined as Hotch inserted a single finger inside your quivering hole. "M-More, please!" You begged feeling his finger begin to thrust within you at a languid pace. His long fingers reaching your g-spot with ease causing you to gush even more slick around him. A second finger entered as he felt you begin to loosen around him.
"G-Gonna...!" You trailed of feeling the pleasure begin to build up. Spencers bottom lip hurt from the pressure his teeth were putting upon it in an effort to stay quite. Hearing you begin to reach your peak hurtled him closer to his own orgasm.
"Y-Y'/N..." Spencer cried out as his balls tightened and thick ropes of cum erupted from his tip soon after you wailed out a cry of 'daddy' and creamed around Aaron's fingers. Hotchner glanced between the two of you with a smirk before he retracted his fingers and offered you cunt a hearty slap.
"Hope you enjoyed the show, Spencer."
#x you#reader insert#smut#x female reader#female reader#x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch hotchner#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#dr spencer reid
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It's always telling that the only time when transandro bros even dain to recognize intracommunity transmisogyny, it's only when they're forced to distance themselves from the rampant transmisogynists in their community whose transmisogyny is so cartoonish it becomes undeniable. And it's only to preserve image and position themselves as the non-reactionary alternative.
They did it when one of their own sent out rapey sexual harassment copypasta anons to trans lesbians. They did this when already infamous "transmisogyny group chat"/"The TMRA Radfems warned you about" faggotwithopinions/transmascpeterwenz treated becoming mutuals with the CEO who permabanned a trans woman for no reason and followed her off-site to violate privacy data protections in order to paint her as a sex pest as Huge Get. They did this when TERFs felt comfortable with their communities transmisogyny to openly talk about how they plan to use transandro bros specifically to drive a wedge in the trans community, something trans andro bros accuse transfeminists of all the time.
And when I say it's only in these cases it is ONLY in these wildly cartoonish scenarios. Back when the "transmisogyny group chat" was still fresh news, something that usually happens when a queer transmisogynist shows their full ass happened. A bunch of TERFs who stalk these discourses because they're obsessed with trans women went into his anons to send the most vile hate they could summon while pretending to be trans women so our abusers have something they can point to to play victim. And all the transandro bros took these ANONYMOUS HATE MESSAGES sending gendered slurs/sexual harassment at FACE VALUE when they said they were coming from trans women. It got so bad that prominent transandro bro GenderKoolaid when "dissecting and analyzing" a cropped screenshot of a post by Predstrogen (you know the trans woman who was later outsted by the CEO himself) made some wild speculation about how an offhand comment about "transfems taking the piss" was a direct joke reveling in this harassment.
And there are still plenty of blatant transmisogynists that are propped up as prominent members of the transandro community because they haven't had their own "Me and CarExplosionsHammer Photomatt are besties!" moment. There's the aforementioned GenderKoolaid who routinely engaged with "critiquing" transfeminists posts out of context behind their back and alongside spacelazarwolf has promoted the kiwifarms style blog transandrophobia-archive.
They harbor loads of ex TERFs. ftmtftm who left a 31 paragraph college dissertation with proper citations carefully explaining why I'm either purposely unintellectual or actually stupid and what I was saying was radfeminism aktually when I was looking through his blog before blocking him I saw 1) him lamenting about feeling abandoned by the radfem community he was apparently raised by and 2) him sighing with fucking "transmisoginy group chat" faggotwithopinions of all people about how "these Actual Transmisogynists™ make it so hard for us Actually Nice TMRAs and we need to put an effort to come across as considerate to their experiences with them when we engage with transfems" acting like they they aren't the very problem they are complaining about.
An out Ex-TERF nothorses is responsible for cultivating the current transandro echo chamber tried to use his influence in the community he helped create to try and redefine TERF to try to allow for the label to paradoxically include trans women. After that he wrote an anti-transfeminist manifesto that "defined" Beaddelism and cited open TERF sources. And this manifesto is still constantly linked by transandro bros whenever someone outside the discourse asks what a beaddel is.
The transmisogyny is so bad in their community but simultaneously is explicitly an outlier and not representative of them. Every prominent member is transmisogynists Georg and should not be counted but only when you can prove he is unequivocally, beyond the shadow of a doubt, transmisogynist. Up until then everything he does is fine until it's not.
To transandro bros "transmisogynistic trans men" is this Mystical Other problem that can only be solved with better PR and is completely unaddressable and says nothing about their community at all. Something that they've wholly separated from themselves that's only addressed in the theoretical until they're forced to confront it because they've fostered it so much it's become too big to ignore.
Like if your truly "one of the good ones" whose "only trying to talk about specific issues trans men face" then ask yourself why you've aligned with an ideology founded directly in opposition to transfeminis?. Why do you stand with a community whose mest well regarded members are also some of the most rampant transmisogynists on this site? Why you are constantly having to do PR work to not be instantly regarded as on the transmisogynists that you're community has become known for?Why you refuse to address the transmisogyny problem so much that out and proud TERFs feel comfortable enough to walk right in and start proposing "AMAB supremacy" theory?
Like I've said before. The disgusting actions and behaviors from the community alone are enough to not regard any "theory" they put forth to excuse it.
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🌌 astro-gnomey Follow
Some of you don't want to hear it but at some point we're going to HAVE to acknowledge the effects of storm sorcerers (and keiromancy as a whole) on the environment. The wizard council has been pushing for regulations on these practices for years due to its large ecological effect on the realm, and yet it still stays unregulated because of misinformed petitioners who insist on preserve this harmful practice.
x x x
🌬 420haz3it Follow
hey ops ex here. they literally went through my family's tome of spells and destroyed every page that contained keiromancy. spells that were in my family since the Wizardry Renaissance, that saved towns from floods and droughts alike, are now lost to time and space
also as people in the notes pointed out all of those links are blatant misinformation that ignores what storm sorcerers have done to protect not only their local communities but the environment as a whole for centuries, and the people who spread this information are the exact same people who advocated to repeal the wishing star protection act.
hating keiromancy has always been a distraction so astrological mages can push for more unsafe practices in their own field. don't let them lie about their intent, and don't let the wizard council rush the process to earn an astromage liscense.
🪄 tradmage12 Follow
Being from a family of storm sorcerers puts a direct line from you to the Great Calamity that wiped out our magic for a millenia. You deserve to lose that tome and every last spark of magic in you.
🌬 420haz3it Follow
what
🌬 420haz3it Follow
theres no way youre serious. you dont actually believe that.
🪄 tradmage12 Follow
We all know it, the Great Calamity would have never happened if the sorcerer faction had listened to the wizard councils orders and steered clear of dragon hunting. But they didn't listen, and everyone suffered because of it. Don't act like there's no reason to not trust your kind with their own practices. You just can't help yourselves.
🌌 astro-gnomey Follow
I leave for the Berry Harvest and come back to this mess, really funny how you'll mention me taking action against your family's evil dark spells but don't mention that you only dated me for your weird gnomeplay fantasies. Also pay attention to the language used, very Anti Mage rhetoric being spread. What else would you expect of a storm sorcerer, of course they want to keep their powers, I'm going to shut off reblogs if people in the notes cant see how they're being manipulated by keiromancers. Quit trying to be 'progressive' when you just want to keep ruining the course of nature and keep down the mage class.
🌬 420haz3it Follow
get me off this fucking lichsite. there is no 'anti mage rhetoric', that's not a fucking thing. mages aren't some repressed class no matter how much you want to pretend that, they haven't had to deal with magical restrictions since before the great calamity even happened, meanwhile sorcerers to this day are still fighting to be seen as magical equals.
and while im at it 'keiromancers' is a made up term to put all weather magic users under one umbrella, as if forms of keiromancy arent so diverse amongst the realms that you cant even begin to compare them. it is not the same as saying necromancers. dont even start that bs.
also, gnomeplay is perfectly normal and acceptable between consenting partners, which we were, so idek why you bring that up. if i as a half elf want to have gnome partners theres literally no issue with that, youre mad because gneillielle has a more bountiful gourd harvest and far more whimsical tunes than you ever brought to our relationship.
storm sorcerers have done nothing wrong, you're the problem.
perhaps some shadow work could unlodge the staff youve got stuck up your cap and you could see the filthy fuckign system youre supporting as an astromage, im sick and tired of this.
🎱 claire-vances-fourth-eye Follow
op starts posting untagged wizard council x reader failed abjuration content in a year btw
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#fake post#unreality#tw unreality#ask to tag#wizardposting#wizardblr#inspired by my good friend pig and their occeanblr posts :3
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holy- the zhongli request is 🥹💝✨✨✨ idk if its possible but hoping for part 2 maybe when reader purposely didn't pass the exam. i love every word you write 😭🫶 have a nice day/night and stay safe!!
a different method pt.2
teacher!zhongli x m!reader
Synopsis: You were not expecting to end up on your knees when you failed the test.
part 1 | part 3
a/n -> HELP I THINK I GOT COVID AGAIN??? anyways super sorry this took an eternity to get out! also thank you all for 600 followers!
wc -> 1.8k
cw -> facefucking, shoe humping, semi-public, not proofread
"What am I going to have to do to make you take this class seriously?"
You blinked owlishly. It would be a lie to say you were completely expecting such an inquiry. Slightly tilting your head, you pondered your teacher's question. There wasn't much, really. But all of those options weren't significant enough to motivate you.
Reaching a quick conclusion, you shrugged your shoulders. "I dunno. A million Mora?"
He was not amused. With a sigh, he turned away from you and held your test. A somewhat large "40/100" was written on the top of the page in red ink. It obviously wasn't enough to improve your current grade, and might have even dropped it even further. If an F- was a thing, you were positive you'd have it. But, hey, at least it wasn't a zero! There was some effort.
"Did you even try?" Zhongli knows he's not supposed to ask questions like this because everyone learns at their own pace. But you made it nearly impossible for him to teach you. It wasn't even a hard test, either. Everyone managed to acquire a passing grade except for you.
"I mean. Kind of," you replied. You answered the questions you knew off the top of your head and left those that needed you to think. You were sure you could've passed if you put in a bit more effort. It truthfully was an easy test, but who actually tries in a class they don't even like? Not you, that's for sure.
"I noticed that the grades for your other classes are higher. Is there something you don't like me doing?" He seemed genuine. It almost made you feel bad.
"No. Everything's just so boring here." You shook your head. Crossing your arms, you looked around the room to curb your growing impatience to leave.
He hummed. "You're fidgeting quite a lot. Are you expecting something?"
You peered at him with a confused expression. But despite your bemused guise, yes, you were. You swallowed nervously. Was it really that obvious?
Maybe he doesn't know, yet.
"No?" you finally spoke. You mentally cursed the uncertain tone in your voice. Fuck.
"Really?" He beckoned you closer to him. As soon as you were within arm's reach, he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and pulled you to him. "It seems to me you haven't forgotten about what happened two weeks ago. You purposely failed, didn't you?"
You tried to jerk away from him in a surprised panic. "What? No, I didn't!"
He had such a tight grip on your shirt you were briefly afraid that he might tear it. "Do not deny the blatant truth." His eyes flicked downwards. You followed his shameless gaze, surprised to see yourself hardening within the confines of your pants. You were too caught up trying to defend yourself you hadn't realized the intensifying warmth traveling through your veins.
Your mouth was left agape, mind blank and unable to forge an excuse. "I..."
Zhongli raised an expectant brow, waiting for the waterfall of words to pour out of your mouth in a futile attempt to save your dignity and pride, even when he knew it was unlikely. Perhaps that was your attempt?
He kept you at arm's length as he studied your heated face, which only made you squirm further. You could barely stand to look him in the eyes, locking gazes every so often before it was promptly broken to look elsewhere.
It's pitiful, he thought. But he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy your distress. With yet another hum, he used his free hand to pull you to your knees. You stared at him with a surprised expression as if this wasn't exactly what you wanted.
"Well? Go on," he said, leaning back against his chair. Nodding nervously, you removed his belt and unzipped his pants to pull out his cock. You could feel your mouth involuntarily watering at the sight. You flattened your tongue and gave a lick from base to tip. You gently sucked on the head before moving lower, stopping just before he reached your throat.
You relished in the deep groan he emitted, using it as encouragement to go faster. He was thick and made your jaw slightly ache, but he had yet to completely harden. You used the saliva that leaked through the corners of your mouth as a lubricant to jerk off what you couldn't get.
You softly moaned at the taste of his precum, the vibrations of your voice making his cock twitch. You hollowed your cheeks over the tip to gather more of it, but quickly dipped your head back down. You repeated the cycle a few more times until Zhongli deemed himself wanting more.
You looked up at him through your lashes when you noticed his arm rising toward your hair. The weight of his hand could have been mistaken as comforting if it weren't for the fact that his fingers tightly curled around your hair. You could feel your chest buzzing. It was a mix of anticipation, fear, and excitement.
You gagged when he pushed your head down, forcing you to swallow more of his cock. You instinctively tried to pull away, chest beginning to strain from your gags and the sudden lack of air. No matter how much you seemed to persist, it felt as if your strength was nothing compared to his.
You quickly realized this, and made yourself relax as much as you could. It was exhilarating to let him have his way with you, using your mouth without any regard toward your own comfort. You snaked a hand across your neck and lightly squeezed, cock throbbing within the confines of your pants when he let out a groan.
"This is what you're good at, isn't it?" His voice sounded strained. "Is this your way of raising your other grades? Letting your teachers use your mouth as they see fit?"
Of course not! You made a few sounds (though you mostly choked and gagged) in an attempt to reply. A mildly annoyed expression crossed over his face.
"You still don't know how to be quiet even when you're sucking my cock?" He pushed your head down as far as possible, your nose pressing against his pelvis. He held you there until your chest began to burn, desperate for air. The black spots that collected in the corners of your vision faded with each deep inhale. The tip of his cock rested on your tongue, though you sealed your lips around it every so often to swallow his precum.
You could feel him throb rhythmically when you held him in your hand again to lightly tap the head on your tongue. You peered up at his flushed face with a slight grin, and he had the mind to shove you back down. You began to jerk him off fervently as a heat swelled in his abdomen.
He tightly gripped the armrests of his chair and held himself back from thrusting into your fist. The flame of ecstasy intensified further and further until it finally enveloped him completely, hips lightly jutting upwards as cum spurted from his cock. He let out a long, deep groan as he tossed his head back.
You moved back over him to gather his cum in your mouth, gently using your tongue to help him prolong his orgasm and coax out more of his semen. It wasn't until he began to tug you off of him did you back away, licking cum off of your fingers.
You were briefly aware of the ache in your knees as you stared up at him expectantly, which prompted an eyebrow raise from him.
"What?"
"What about me?" You frowned. You couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together in hopes of stimulation.
"You don't deserve it," he said. He internally smiled at your expression. "Especially not after your test score."
He shifted, trying to stand up to fix his appearance when you held onto his leg. His amber eyes met yours so full of ill-concealed desperation.
"Wait-!" You swallowed hard, surprised by your own need. "I-I'll do good next time. I promise! Just... just please let me cum. I'll take this class seriously."
"Tempting offer," he said, tilting his head in thought. He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy treating you like this, but the main reason he was so irritated with you was because you refused to let him help you towards a better grade. He's not one to give up very easily, so he's willing to take your word for it just this once.
"Very well, then." He sat down on his chair and leaned back, pushing one of his legs towards you so his shoe pressed against your throbbing cock. You jolted at the sensation, completely underestimating just how horny you were. Electricity flowed through your body and left your skin feeling tingly and hot.
You felt like you could burst right then and there as you quickly began rubbing your clothed dick against the hard material of his shoe. Oh how pitiful you looked, trying to pull him closer to you as you thrust harder.
"Look at you." He had an amused undertone in his voice. "Grinding against me so desperately. You're just like a mutt in heat, aren't you?"
You had no will to retort, simply focused on reaching your orgasm. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loud, nearly breaking skin. You were very sensitive from ignoring your own pleasure earlier, and you were sure you weren't going to last much longer.
You let out a strained whimper when he straightened his foot, rubbing you with enough force for it to slightly hurt. You mumbled out curses and pleas towards no-one in particular and steadily grew louder the closer you got to your peak.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck..." You cut yourself off with a moan, trembling as the burning sensation of euphoria overcame your senses. Your hips jolted with each pulse of pleasure that ran through you.
With a shaky sigh, you fell back onto your ass and steadily regained your breath. Good lord, that took more out of you than you thought. You grimaced when the patch of your cum slowly cooled, leaving an uncomfortable sticky sensation that you were going to have to walk home with.
You peered up at Zhongli when he spoke, "I expect you to abide by your promise. I do not want to see any more F's in the immediate future."
You wearily nodded. "Yes, sir."
He studied you for a moment longer. "You seem to be driven at the thought of an orgasm."
Now, that caught your attention. You refocused and nearly broke out into an excited smile when he continued.
"Maybe if you pass the next test with a B or higher, I'll reward you."
#zhongli genshin impact#genshin zhongli#zhongli x reader#genshin impact zhongli#zhongli#zhongli x male reader smut#zhongli x reader smut#genshin impact#genshin smut#teacher character#teacher zhongli#reader insert#male reader insert#x male reader#x reader#student reader#reader#male reader#sub male reader#bottom male reader
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Hey!! For the a ship, a trope, a sentence ask game: How about Icemav - accidental secret realtionship with "you guys walked in on us in the locker room, more than once, how did you not know?"
Maverick is nervous. He knows, realistically, that he shouldn't be. DADT had been repealed, Slider did a whole coming out thing for his niece the year before, hell, Maverick's seen Wolf with his hands down Holly's pants. But still, this is different. This clarifies that what he's got with Ice is here to stay, not a relative (well-loved as she is) or a hook-up when it's easy.
A hand slots into Maverick's, a body saddling up next to his in the bar booth. The hand is large, familiar, and heavier with the weight of the ring he'd slipped down Ice's fourth finger without complaint. It slides away just as quickly, old habits worn into the other man, but Maverick doesn't complain, not when Ice puts that same hand on Maverick's thigh.
"Could feel your leg shaking all the way from the door."
Maverick scoffs. "Sure you could."
Ice knocks their shoulders together and doesn't leave space between them when he settles again. It makes Maverick smile, opening his mouth to tease again when Slider's loud and unmistakable voice draws his attention.
"Alright, break it up, love birds," he slides into the space across from them, Hollywood hot on his heels.
"Where's Wolf?"
Slider rolls his eyes, and Hollywood winces.
"Might have accidentally told him the wrong day. He and Cindy took the kids to dinner."
Maverick kicks the other man under the table and doesn't look sorry when Hollywood yelps. All his previous nerves slip, and he pushes menus towards the new arrivals, waiting until their food's put in and they have drinks to try and broach why he and Ice have gathered them.
When he can't manage, picking at the corner of his bottle, Slider sighs.
"Alright, you two gonna tell us what this is all about? Cause if I gotta learn Maverick knocked up some Admiral's daughter, I'm making you pay my part of the bill."
And somehow, Slider's ability to shit talk right through a thick atmosphere has Maverick's tongue loosening.
"Ice and I are gettin' hitched." He doesn't even need to drag Ice's hand out with the simple silver engagement band, the man at his side doing it himself with a raised brow like he's daring either of the other men to say something about it.
They don't, though arguably it's worse than if they had. Hollywood spits out the beer he'd been sipping, and Slider's jaw drops damn near to the table.
"You-"
"I'm sorry, what-"
"When the hell did all this happen?" Slider settles on, waving a hand between Maverick and Ice. It makes Maverick's brows furrow, but Ice drops his arm over his shoulder, too, so what minor irritation had been forcing that expression smooths out, leaving only blatant confusion.
"What the hell do you mean?" There's a bit to Maverick's tone.
"Hey," Holly says, finally done choking, "it's not that we're not happy for you guys, hell yeah, marriage and all that, but... just... isn't it a bit fast?"
It's Maverick's turn for his mouth to slacken. He'd say they're fucking with them, but honestly, Hollywood's a shit liar, and Slider would have made some crack about them being married already.
"Are you both saying you didn't know?" Ice asks, drawing Maverick's eyes to him. He's unsurprised to see an equal amount of surprise pinching Ice's lips into a downturned line.
"I mean... we haven't seen you both in a while." Slider hedges, shrugging, and Maveirk's had just about enough. He throws up his hands.
"We've been together since '92!" comes his exclamation, "You guys walked in on us in the locker room more than once. How did you not know?"
Slider is the one who chokes this time, and Hollywood, flush high on his cheeks, probably remembering something he ought to have forgotten grimaces.
"Whoops?"
Maverick feels even less bad slamming the toe of his boots into the other man's calf a second time.
What a bunch of idiots.
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Happy New Year, Jake
Happy Rosh Hashanah to the Moon Knight system
I haven't written enough for Jake, so he gets an impromptu story this lovely Rosh Hashanah (New Year).
Pairing: Jake Lockley x gn!reader
Word Count: 820
Content: Fluff, slight feelings of unworthiness, mentions of food, alters mentioned, brief reference to past trauma, mentions of religion and religious practices, not beta'd
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
You asked Marc and Steven if you could do this.
Celebrate something with Jake.
Marc had some happy memories of holidays - Passover meals - finding the afikomen and getting a few dollars for it. The food, the wine, the prayers, the traditions.
Hanukkah wasn't quite as big of a holiday, but there were presents and dreidel to play and latkes to eat.
There were candles to light and services to attend.
Then, one day, there was no more happiness.
Steven's memories were spotty at best, but they were happy. His heart was rooted in the traditions of those before him.
But Jake had none of this. He was a shadow - a creature of the night. He had only been in your life for less than a year.
Jake was a difficult man to get to know. He preferred to keep to himself, but he was soft for you - that, he could not fight.
You didn't want to ambush him, or even surprise him. You asked his permission.
"Could...do you think we could have a little dinner for New Year's?" You asked him one night, moonlight spilling across the bed as you drew circles on his bare chest with your fingertips.
"New Year's?" He gruffed out, confused. "In September?"
"Rosh Hashanah," you supplied. "You know...the new year. If you want. I wanted to make you dinner - just something nice."
Jake's calloused hands scratched lightly down the curve of your back. "Not sure, mi vida. Better ask - "
"I did," you interrupted. "Marc's not ready yet and Steven is okay skipping this year - at least the dinner so you and I can share it. Only if that's okay with you. It doesn't have to be anything you're uncomfortable with."
The stubble of his chin tickled the skin of your cheek as he whispered back and forth with you.
"Okay. Yeah. I...I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to do, but...sure."
You were excited, having hoped Jake wouldn't turn you down.
You prepared a savory meal - doing most of the work the night before. You set an elegant yet simple table, with your best dishes, a tablecloth and your grandmother's silver.
A round challah loaf sat on her silver serving platter. You prepared apples and honey to symbolize the hope for a sweet year. You also served pomegranates and some vegetables. You made some brisket for Marc to eat later. Wine glasses and water glasses were set appropriately. You were ready.
You put the finishing touches on the table just as Jake emerged from your bedroom, straightening his tie. Jake was no stranger to wearing a tie or looking absolutely dashing at any given moment.
But this was something else. Instead of his typical leather jacket, he wore a dark suit jacket. Noticing your blatant stare, he ran a hand over the stubble of his jaw.
"I think this is like a...proper dinner," he attempted, sounding a little like Steven. "This too much?"
"Jake," you breathed, floating toward him. "You look incredible." Placing your hands on his muscled chest, you leaned in and brushed your lips tenderly over his.
"Shana Tovah," you wished him, motioning for him to have a seat at the table. But he pulled you back to his side, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.
As you sat down to enjoy your holiday meal, your heart burned within your chest each time Jake seemed uncertain about what exactly to do. The last thing you wanted was make him uncomfortable, or make him somehow feel less...Jewish? Than Steven or Marc.
You only desired for him to be who he was. But you wanted him to feel a part of his history too, if he was comfortable.
"You okay?" You quietly asked, watching as he dipped his apple slice into the honey.
He paused, his warm brown eyes going wide. "Did I do something wrong? Is there like a prayer?"
"Jake, you can't do anything wrong. This is for you. Just...be with me." You reached across the table and squeezed his hand, watching as his shoulders relaxed.
"This is nice, baby," he spoke up after a few minutes. Leaning in, he made sure to catch your eye. "It's really nice. Thank you...for thinking of me."
You smiled warmly. "Of course, I'm always thinking of you."
You shared your special meal and some traditions together, feeling so warm inside and so grateful for this man of yours. When you got up from the table, he pulled you close and told you how amazing you looked.
"Gotta dress up like this again so I can take you out," he roughly whispered against your ear while holding you against him.
Easing back, you brushed your fingers along his jaw. "You mean 'take me out' a date, right? And not...your nighttime job?" You teased.
"Very funny," he mocked, scooping you up into a hug, where you stayed for a while, content in his arms.
"Happy new year, baby," he whispered, feeling like he belonged.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Moon Knight Masterlist
Main Masterlist
#moon knight#jake lockley#jake lockley x reader#holiday fic#rosh hashanah#new year#happy new year#steven grant#marc spector#moon knight system#moon knight fic#jewish holidays#oscar isaac characters
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Here With Me II.
Summary:
Aemond deals with the reappearance of Alys.
Warning(s): Alys, Language, Angst, Drama, Kissing, Allusion to Smut.
AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C BILLIE SKYLARK
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Word Count: 3000
Tag List - @zenka69, @0eessirk8, @dixie-elocin, @wickedfrsgrl, @immyowndefender
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.
Aemond's heart sank as he took in the scene before him, his mind going back and forth between disbelief and rage. "Alys," he said, his voice tinged with incredulity. "What are you doing here?"
Alys' eyes narrowed as she met his gaze, a calculating smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I came to see you, Aemond, to tell you-" she replied smoothly, her voice honeyed with false sincerity.
Aemond's stomach churned with unease as he realized what Alys was implying. "-No," he said firmly, his voice trembling with anger and disbelief. "That's not possible."
But Alys merely laughed "Oh, but it is, Aemond-" she insisted, her tone dripping with scorn. "This child is yours."
Aemond's mind raced as he struggled to comprehend the situation unfolding before him. He knew in his heart that Alys' claims were false, that she was using this as a ploy to manipulate him.
But the sight of her standing there heavily pregnant, with Billie looking confused and hurt, filled him with a sense of dread and despair.
"No," he repeated, his voice growing louder with each word. "I won't let you do this."
But Alys merely smirked, her eyes glinting with triumph. "You don't have a choice, Aemond," she taunted, her voice filled with malicious glee. "You will acknowledge this child, whether you like it or not."
"It's not my child," insisted Aemond, his tone firm and unwavering. "I haven't slept with you in well over a year. I've been in a committed relationship with Billie."
Alys scoffed, her eyes flashing with scorn. "Oh, please," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What about that time nine months ago? Or have you conveniently forgotten that incident in the back your car?"
Aemond's jaw clenched with anger at Alys' blatant lies, his fists balling at his sides as he struggled to maintain his composure. "I never slept with you nine months ago," he shot back, his voice tinged with frustration.
Alys' smirk faltered, her confidence wavering in the face of Aemond's anger.
“Aemond”
"No, Alys," he declared, his words laced with certainty. "The baby is not mine, besides I always used protection with you-"
Alys rolled her eyes, her disbelief evident in her expression. "Oh, please," she scoffed, her voice tinged with frustration. "No method is 100% effective."
Aemond's jaw clenched with frustration at Alys' stubborn refusal to accept the truth. "I'm well aware of that fact," he conceded through gritted teeth. "But what is 100% effective is NOT having sex with you at all. You're a fucking liar, Alys".
Alys' face flushed with anger at his accusation, her eyes narrowing into icy slits. "How dare you!" she seethed, her voice trembling with rage. "You can't just deny your responsibility like this!"
But Aemond remained unmoved, his gaze steady and unwavering as he faced her down. "I'm not denying anything," he replied evenly. "I'm simply stating the truth”.
Obviously realising what she was doing wasn't working, Alys tried another tactic, she smiled sweetly and reached out towards Aemond, her hand running up his arm.
“Aemy baby-please, we were so good together, what we had was special“ muttered Alys.
"No it wasn't Alys-you treat me like shit" snarked Aemond snatching his arm away from her grasp.
"I made a mistake-sweet boy" whispered Alys.
"No-the mistake was mine-I never should have got involved with you in the first place" replied Aemond.
"You were nothing before you met me. I made you the man you are" replied Alys.
"No-Alys. It was getting away from you and being with Billie that made me who I am"
"But the sex we had-the way we were with one another-"
"-It was disgusting" replied Aemond.
"She knows how you like it does she?"
"Alys-don't-" warned Aemond.
"We can have it again baby-remember, how we would-"
"-NO. When I was with you, I felt hollow, I felt disgusted with myself-you want to talk about our sex? how about the times where you would make me feel like I was nothing-how you would belittle and hurt me, then demand I spend hours pleasing you in bed-"
"Aemond" gasped Billie her hand covering her mouth.
"I felt sick to my stomach whenever you wanted me to touch you-the countless times I had to fantasize about someone else to get me through it-" said Aemond wiping his nose on his sleeve.
"You liar-" snarled Alys.
"That's rich coming from you-" quipped Aemond.
"-And you want her?" scoffed Alys.
"Yes-" replied Aemond firmly.
"What does she have that I don't?" asked Alys in disbelief.
"Everything"
"-And you really think that she's going to stick around and help you raise our child?"
"For the love of all that is holy-I'm not the FUCKING father"
"Yes you are-" muttered Alys.
"No I'm not-get it through your head. There's only one woman I've ever fucked in my car and it certainly wasn't you-it was Billie"
"Aemond-" exclaimed Billie.
"She'd spent the day with Helaena, and from the second she was away from me-I missed her. I spent the day imagining how I would make love to her. I got myself so worked up that when I picked her up I couldn't contain myself-I just had to have her-"
"-You-" gasped Alys.
"-That desire, the primal need-the not being able to wait. I was so desperate for her that I tore her clothes from her body and sank my self inside her so deep-I couldn't tell where I ended and she began"
"T-That-" uttered Alys.
"Billie makes me feel like I'm the centre of her world, she makes me feel special, she loves me for who I am-not what I am. You have never made me feel like that" admitted Aemond.
"Aemond-" whispered Billie
"Billie, you have to believe me," he implored, his voice raw with emotion. "I love you, and I would never betray your trust like this."
Billie's eyes softened with empathy, her hand reaching out to gently grasp his. "I believe you, Aemond, I trust you-I know you’re not the father" she reassured him, her voice filled with unwavering certainty.
“What?” exclaimed Alys.
"Aegon is” stated Billie, her voice steady but filled with accusation.
Alys' eyes widened in shock, her mask of confidence slipping for the first time since she entered the room. "How do you know?" she demanded, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Billie's gaze hardened as she explained, "It's your perfume, Alys. I remember smelling it on Aegon the night Aemond introduced me to his family."
Aemond's eye widened in understanding as he recalled the events of that evening—
"You mentioned he had an odour about him," Aemond interjected, his voice filled with realization. "But I thought it was just a joke."
Billie nodded; her certainty unwavering. "It wasn't a joke," she affirmed. "It was the truth."
Alys' face paled as the weight of Billie's accusation settled upon her. She opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out.
Billie's resolve strengthened as she took a step closer to Alys, her senses homed in on the familiar scent that lingered in the air around her. With a furrowed brow, she inhaled deeply, her nostrils flaring as she sought confirmation of her suspicions.
And then, without a shadow of doubt, she nodded resolutely. "I'd never forget a stench like that," she declared, her voice firm and unwavering.
Aemond's patience snapped like a taut rope, his eye blazing with fury as he advanced towards Alys, his fists clenched at his sides.
"How dare you!" he roared, his voice reverberating with anger and betrayal. "How dare you come into my home and spin your web of lies, trying to manipulate me and the woman I love!"
Alys recoiled at the intensity of his rage, her eyes widening in fear as she backed away. "Aemond, please," she pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation. "I didn't mean—"
But Aemond cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand, his anger boiling over like a volcano on the brink of eruption. "Don't you dare try to play innocent with me," he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "You knew exactly what you were doing”
"I told Aegon about the baby, but he refused to have anything to do with it."
Aemond's eye narrowed with contempt as he processed her words, his anger simmering just below the surface.
"Why should that surprise you?" he retorted, his voice laced with bitterness. "Aegon has multiple children with multiple women, and he doesn't accept responsibility for any of them."
Alys flinched at the harsh truth of his words, her facade of defiance crumbling under the weight of her own actions. "I thought maybe this time would be different," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I was wrong."
“You slept with my brother, and when he discarded you like the filth you are, you decide to try and lie to me? There is no way I would ever father a child with you."
Alys recoiled at the venom in his words, her face contorting with a mixture of shock and shame. "I-I didn't mean for any of this to happen," she stammered, her voice trembling with fear.
But Aemond's rage was unrelenting, his anger fuelled by the depth of her betrayal. "You're a liar and a manipulator," he spat, his words dripping with contempt. "You tried to use me to clean up the mess you made with my brother, but you underestimated me. I won't let you destroy my life"
“Aemond-“
"Get out," he commanded, his tone icy with contempt. "Leave this apartment, and never come back. I don't want to see your face ever again."
Alys' eyes widened in shock at the finality of his words, the weight of his rejection hitting her like a physical blow. "But Aemond, please," she pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation. "I-I still love you."
But Aemond's resolve remained unyielding, his gaze unwavering as he met her pleading eyes.
"You don’t know how to love, everything about you is a lie," he declared, his voice ringing with disdain. "Your just a fucking vampire sucking the life out of everything and everyone you come into contact with, and I want nothing to do with you. Now leave, before I make you” snarled Aemond as he wrenched the door open.
With a heavy heart, Alys made her way towards the door, her shoulders slumped with defeat.
As she crossed the threshold, she cast one final glance back at Aemond, her eyes filled with regret and sorrow.
But Aemond's gaze remained cold and impassive, his heart hardened as he slammed the door shut.
Billie stepped closer to Aemond, her heart aching for the pain he must be feeling. Gently, she wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into a warm embrace.
Aemond hesitated for a moment, his body tense with residual anger and frustration. But as Billie's comforting touch enveloped him, he couldn't help but let out a shaky breath, the tension slowly melting away.
With a soft sigh, Aemond leaned into her embrace, allowing himself to be held by the woman who had stood by his side through it all.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his arms encircling her waist as he sought solace in her comforting presence.
Suddenly Bille felt a slight tremble run through his body.
Concerned, she pulled back slightly to look into his eye, and her heart sank as she saw the tears in his eye.
"Aemond, are you ok?" she asked softly, her voice filled with gentle concern.
Aemond took a shaky breath, his voice choked with emotion as he struggled to speak. "I-I had everything planned," he confessed, his words coming out in a broken whisper. "The perfect surprise-for you."
Billie's brow furrowed in confusion, her concern deepening. "What surprise?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Aemond's tears fell freely now, his emotions spilling over in a torrent of anguish. "I was going to cook your favourite meal," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was going to fill the apartment with your favourite flowers-And then, I was going to ask you to marry me."
Billie's breath caught in her throat at his confession, her heart skipping a beat at the enormity of his words.
"And after that," Aemond continued, his voice trembling with sorrow, "I was going to take you to bed and make love to you all night-But now, it's all ruined because of Alys and her fucking lies."
Billie's eyes brimmed with tears at the devastation in Aemond's voice, her heart breaking for the pain he was experiencing. Without hesitation, she pulled him close once more, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace.
"It's not ruined, Aemond," she whispered, her voice filled with love and reassurance. "We'll get through this together. And when the time is right, we'll have our perfect moment-I love you, and nothing can change that."
“I just can’t believe that audacity of her to show up like that-“ muttered Aemond.
“After everything you told me about her and what I just heard-it’s no surprise really” replied Billie.
“Getting pregnant with my brothers child and then trying to pass it off as mine-is there truly no depths that she wouldn’t sink too”.
“I guess she was just desperate-especially if Aegon did cast her aside,” said Billie.
“It’s her own fault-now she has to deal with the consequences, I’m just glad not to be involved in that mess anymore” replied Aemond.
“Did it feel good. Giving her a piece of your mind?” asked Billie curiously.
“It felt fucking fantastic-now where’s the whiskey. I need a drink” retorted Aemond.
In the months that followed Alys’ attempt to manipulate Aemond, many changes happened.
The first was Aemond’s insistence that they move to a new apartment, the second was that he cut ties with Aegon-he promised his mother that he wouldn’t cause any trouble and would remain cordial at family functions but other than that he didn’t want to know.
He was angry, but he was also hurt-he had not really been that close to Aegon, but he'd spent many hours talking to Aegon about his relationship with Alys and everything she put him through, and despite everything that Aemond had told him, his brother had still got involved with Alys.
It wasn't about her-he couldn't give two shits. But it was Aegon-his own brother.
But Aegon had made his bed, now he needed to lie in it. As did Alys. No doubt by now she would have had the baby, but Aemond didn’t want to know, technically the baby was his niece or nephew, but he just didn’t want to be involved.
Alys was the past and Billie was his future.
Aemond had everything he had ever wanted, and he never wanted to let it go.
His little bird, the love of his life and his soul mate.
A truly remarkable woman who was the light of his life, she would spend hours going over different scents for the perfumes she made, often working late into the night, but she always made time for him and Aemond made sure to spend every moment he could between her soft thighs.
His ravenous appetite for carnal pleasures knew no bounds as he made a point to christen every surface in their new apartment.
He would spend many hours fucking her into exhaustion, his cock pounding into her tight wet heat.
Just thinking about bending her over the kitchen counter made Aemond's cock respond in earnest.
But it was probably not a good idea to get an erection whilst he was currently sat at the traffic lights, his fingers gripping the steering wheel of his car so tight they had turned white.
Fuck he needed to get home-he needed his little bird.
Perhaps tonight he would throw her legs over his shoulders and devour her sweet cunt until she screamed his name and then he would have her ride him afterwards.
Yes-that would do nicely.
He just had to get home first.
As Aemond returned home from a long day's teaching and staff meetings, he was met with a surprise that lifted his spirits.
There, standing in the warm glow of the apartment, was Billie, a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"Hey, love," she greeted him, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "I have something for you."
Intrigued, Aemond approached her, curiosity dancing in his eye. "What is it?" he asked, his interest piqued.
With a mischievous glint in her eye, Billie handed him a small, elegantly wrapped box, adorned with a delicate ribbon. "Open it," she urged him, her excitement palpable.
With trembling hands, Aemond carefully untied the ribbon and lifted the lid of the box. And there, nestled within a bed of velvet, lay a small bottle adorned with intricate designs—a bottle of perfume.
Aemond's breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon the exquisite craftsmanship, his heart swelling with gratitude for the woman who stood before him.
"It's-beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with awe.
Billie beamed with pride, her eyes sparkling with joy. "I finished it a few weeks ago, it’s the scent I made in your honour" she confessed, her voice tinged with excitement. "I named it Sapphire".
Aemond's eye widened in surprise at the unexpected choice of name, his mind racing.
"Sapphire?" he repeated.
Billie nodded, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Yes," she explained. "After the gemstone that you have in the place of your missing eye."
Aemond's heart swelled with emotion at the thoughtful gesture, his eye welling with tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Billie-I’m truly honoured" he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
But Billie wasn't finished yet.
With a flourish, she uncapped the bottle, releasing a soft, delicate scent that filled the air with its intoxicating aroma—a scent that spoke of love, of devotion, of the bond that bound them together.
"It's soft with a hint of vanilla," Billie explained, her voice filled with pride. "Just like you."
Overwhelmed by the depth of her love and the beauty of her gift, Aemond pulled her into his arms, holding her close as tears of gratitude streamed down his cheeks.
“It’s perfect my love-“ replied Aemond.
"Guess what, Aemond?" she said, her voice tinged with excitement. "The scent is already trending on social media, and the pre-sales are larger than anything I ever anticipated."
Aemond's eyes widened in astonishment, his heart swelling with pride for the woman he loved. "That's amazing, Billie!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I'm so proud of you."
Billie beamed with joy at his words, her heart soaring with happiness. "Thank you, Aemond," she replied, her voice filled with gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without your love and support."
"I love you-" whispered Aemond.
"-I love you too Issa zaldrīzes" replied Billie smiling (My dragon).
"W-What did you just say?" asked Aemond.
"Oh-did I say it wrong, I know how much you like ancient languages and I ordered a Valyrian phrase book in Braille-and I was practising, oh god this is so embrassing-" stammered Billie fiddling with the hem of her sleeve.
"No-you said it perfectly. I-I was just surprised that's all. What else can you say?"
"Avy jorrāelan issa dārys-" (I love you my King).
Billie didn't get to tell Aemond what else she learned as he hauled her over his shoulder and took her to their bedroom.
Where he spent the night worshipping Zȳhon dāria. (His queen).
Her legs thrown over his shoulders as he devoured her sweet cunt, making her sob with pleasure as she came on his tongue and fingers.
Then he sheathed his hard cock inside her. He had her many times that night, in many positions, filling her to the brim with his seed until she passed out from pleasure and exhaustion-his cock still nestled inside her.
He was going to ask her-he needed to ask her. As he slept that night-he dreamt of seeing her round with his child, his large hand running over the swell of her stomach, the ring on her finger sparkling in the sunlight.
As the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow upon the room, Aemond watched with a smile as Billie slept peacefully beside him.
With a gentle touch, he traced the delicate petals of a long-stemmed rose along the curve of her body, eliciting a soft giggle from her lips as it tickled her skin.
Billie stirred awake, her laughter fading into a contented sigh as she opened her eyes "Good morning, love," she murmured, her voice filled with warmth and affection.
"Good morning, my darling," Aemond replied, his eye sparkling with adoration.
Billie shook her head, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Not at all," she assured him. "What are you up to?"
Aemond's smile widened as he leaned down to capture her lips in a passionate kiss, his heart overflowing with love. "I just wanted to tell you how much I love you," he whispered against her lips, his voice filled with emotion.
Billie's heart swelled with happiness at his words, her eyes shining with unshed tears of joy. "I love you too, Aemond," she whispered, her voice filled with tenderness.
Taking a deep breath, Aemond put the rose on the bedside table and reached into his pocket, producing a small velvet box.
"Whilhelmina Skylark," he began, his voice trembling with nervous excitement. "Will you marry me?"
Tears of joy streamed down Billie's cheeks, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "Yes, Aemond," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "Yes, I will marry you."
Aemond's heart skipped a beat as Billie's words sank in, a surge of joy and excitement coursing through him like a tidal wave.
"I want to marry you as soon as possible, I don’t want to wait" he declared, his voice filled with eager anticipation.
But before he could even finish his sentence, Billie let out a joyful laugh, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Well, you might have too, as I have a surprise of my own," she interjected, her voice laced with excitement.
Aemond's brow furrowed in curiosity as he watched her reach into the drawers beside their bed, his mind racing with possibilities.
What could she possibly have in store for him?
And then, with a flourish, Billie pulled out a small white object, holding it out for him to see.
Aemond's eye widened in astonishment—a positive pregnancy test.
"I'm pregnant," Billie announced, her voice trembling with emotion. "-Helaena knows, she was with me when I did the test."
Aemond's heart swelled with an overwhelming flood of joy and love, his eye brimming with tears of happiness.
"Billie," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond fanfiction#hotd fanfic#aemond fic#aemond x oc#hotd fic#aemond one eye#aemond x original female character#aemond#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut
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...What Are We? | J. Seresin
Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F!Reader
Summary: After four months of being in a whatever the hell it was between you and Jake you finally grow tired of the lack of commitment and give Jake one last chance before he loses you for good.
Warnings: angst, no use of y/n
A/N: I should be working on my research paper but this is more important to me rn. This is based around the song ...What Are We? by Lizzy McAlpine, if you haven't heard it I recommend listening to it (maybe even while reading this but I won't care if you do or not) I was listening to it driving home today and got the idea for this so, enjoy.
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You aren't sure when your feelings towards Jake changed, but you knew they had. In the beginning it was okay, the whole no labels thing. You were the one who asked for no labels to start with, but now four months down the line you knew that you were serious about this.
However, Jake didn't appear to be in the same mindset you were. To you it seemed like he was just fine with what you had. It drove you insane, but you would never force him into anything he didn't want. Which is why you would understand, given the circumstances, if he ever wanted to walk away from this.
What made this all even worse was the fact that, despite your better judgement, when you thought of the future and what it held for you Jake was always in it. Deep down you knew this wasn't the case for Jake, you knew that for him this was only a temporary thing and soon he'd get bored of you and be done. It's what everyone before him had done, so why would it be different now?
But for now you would just stuff these feelings deep inside you until they went away and pretend that everything is okay between you and Jake. For now you would suck it up, go to his house, and be just what he needs you to be for the night.
It had become an everyday ritual at this point, Jake would finish what he was doing for the day and call you to ask if you were free, which you always were for him, and the two of you would meet up for dinner and go back to one of your houses for the night.
"You seem distracted today, what's worrying that pretty head of yours?" Jake's voice pulls you from the precipice of your thoughts. You shake your head and smile a small smile.
"'s nothing, really, just tired. Work was rough today."
Jake wasn't completely satisfied with your answer and you knew that. It was blatant by the face he made as soon as the words left your lips.
"We will talk about it later, I don't want to talk about it here," He still didn't look pleased with your answer so you added a small please to the end, begging him to drop it.
"Wanna head back to your place or mine tonight?" You released a sigh of relief at the slight change in subject before answering his place.
You liked his place more, it made you feel closer to him, and plus it smelled like him. His smell was intoxicating, almost knocking you over anytime he hovered around you. It was the first thing you noticed when you met him that night at the Hard Deck four months ago.
Now it was all you could pay attention to as he helped you into his truck. You sat quietly hoping he wouldn't start up conversation about what was on your mind again and just let the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. However, your hope was useless because you knew Jake too well.
"We're alone now so start talking, what's wrong with you tonight?" You sighed, looking out the window to avoid looking at him.
"Do you think we're wasting time?" Your voice was small when you asked it, Jake took notice and glanced over to where you sat.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean do you think we are wasting time, with this. Is this wasting time? Are we just borrowing time we don't have? Shit Jake I don't know," You were getting overwhelmed by your emotions at this point but you kept going before Jake had a chance to respond. "I feel like we're just buying time before the storm hits and this inevitably falls apart and I end up alone again."
You wipe a stray tear from your cheek, turning to look at Jake.
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like the way you're looking at me Jake, because if you look at me like that then I'm not going to be able to say what I need to say. Besides you should be looking at the road not me." Jake laughs a little before turning his attention back to the road.
"What is it you need to say?"
"Does this mean anything to you, us I mean, like is this actually something or is it just a sorry excuse for love?"
"That's a little harsh, I mean yeah it means something to me. Of course it does, why else would we be here if it didn't."
"I don't know, for fun?"
Jake stopped the truck in his driveway, putting it in park and turning to face you. You found yourself itching to be out of the truck as soon as possible under his gaze.
"Why do you think this doesn't mean anything to me? Do you think that little of me that I would just use you fun?" Jake's expression left you with a pang in your chest.
"I mean it's never stopped anyone."
Jake slowly placed his hand under your chin making you look over at him, "This is more than just something to pass the time until someone new comes around. You are more than that to me."
"You mean it, you aren't just saying that because you think it's what you have to say to shut me up?"
"I mean it." You knew he was telling the truth because of the way his eyes softened when he said it, so you allowed him to pull you in for a kiss. The kiss said everything that Jake couldn't say to you just yet, at least that's what you told yourself.
"I can feel you thinking, its hurting my head." Jake resting his forehead against yours looking into your eyes. "I want strings, I want all the strings if you'll give them to me, I just know that I can't keep going on with this the way it is if it's hurting you."
You smiled to yourself, moving your hand to your jacket pocket and pulling out a string that you'd pulled off your shirt earlier while waiting for your food, placing it in Jake's hand.
He laughed before placing the string in his own pocket, "C'mon lets go inside."
#hangman x you#hangman x reader top gun#hangman x reader#top gun fandom#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin imagine#hangman imagine
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i think a lot of things i agree with are already being said about watcher tv, so instead of focusing on those, i'm going to try to highlight things i think need to be reiterated or haven't been discussed enough.
first of all, i've been a fan of watcher's content for a long time. i followed shane and ryan over to the network after unsolved ended, and since then have made a TON of incredible friends and memories because of their shows. to anyone at watcher reading this, i really hope you're doing alright. thank you for everything you've done to foster this incredible community. and to anyone here in tumblr who's followed me for my watcher content or to any of my mutuals, i hope you're doing as well as you can. drink some water, get outside, and make sure you're getting enough sleep. this has been a rough time for a lot of us, and understandably so.
obviously, watcher tv is a massive change, and everyone who feels upset or disappointed is extremely valid in feeling that way. however, the calibre of hate being sent to the watcher crew is kind of horrific. yes, this could turn out to be a bad business decision for them, but that does make them evil morally bankrupt capitalists who never actually cared about their fanbase in the first place??? honestly, i think this type of commentary is doing a disservice to everyone who's trying to discuss this situation from a genuine analytical standpoint. not only that, but these are real people??? sure, they're on the internet and have probably had people send hate comments their way before, but as a community there are so many more productive things we could be doing instead of tearing down the folks over at watcher.
it is disheartening for content you've enjoyed to suddenly be locked behind a paywall, especially if it's not something you'll be able to afford. i've seen a lot of people emphasizing that artists should be compensated for their art, and i think that definitely applies here, but that doesn't mean people don't have a right to be upset. the fandom community we've built here on tumblr is incredible, it's brought so many people together and overall been so positive, fun, and welcoming to be a part of, so it's understandable that a change threatening the stability of that fanspace would make people upset. i'm not happy about the possibility of the watcher fandom dissipating after this announcement, but i think it's highly likely. watcher TV has created a divide in the fandom, and no matter what it looks like after this is over, it won't be the same. what's going to happen when most people can't access watcher content anymore??? no matter what happens, being in this fandom was absolutely incredible while it lasted.
what's my overall take on the situation??? i don't know how this will turn out for them, i'm not sure the announcement was carried out in the best way (it was hyped up in a way i don't think it should've been, a slower lead up to this could've made it more digestible), i'm sad that a lot of people won't be able to enjoy content that used to mean so much to them, but if this is a business move they think they need to make, then think i understand that. i'm no business expert, i have no idea how this will work out, but i'm absolutely not manifesting their downfall. i think it's very important to discuss this in a civil manner, to critique and analyze the effects of this situation on both the community and the company, but letting that turn into blatant hate and threats to watcher employees is WAY TOO FAR.
these are just some of my thoughts. if you want me to clarify anything or know my thoughts on specific aspects of this situation, please don't be afraid to ask!!! my only request is that this post doesn't turn into a vessel for hating on anyone, whether that be watcher or anyone posting about the situation.
#there's also something to be said about the effects of parasocial relationships on this whole situation#watcher
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[private please, if thats alright]
i used to follow you for your ai stuff back in 2021/22 when things were first kicking off (actually i thought you'd quit because of all the scandal lol) and the models and output were a lot 'sloppier' and kinda illegible but as far as i can see the stuff you're working on now is clearer looking and more coherent, so i was wondering -
do you have any thoughts on the 'aesthetics' of AI and what specifically brings it unique merits and strengths as an art tool? for example i personally find a lot of modern ai art to be boring and soulless looking because it has neither stylistic interest (compared to the blatant 'inhumanity' of older models) nor a human person making base-to-base decisions about what it looks like, but i also havent been really paying too much attention to the AI scene except when it comes up in images searches.
also, sorry if its not a question you want to answer, but do you do any more traditional styles of art as well? i find my art sensibilities are really effected by the mediums i work with so i would love to know if you have any similar experiences wrt ai and non ai works.
thank you!
this is a side account so i can't answer privately, but, that being said;
i actually agree! for general purpose arting i preferred the secret horses style of total illegibility, and my main goal in my secret projects is to be able to reorganize around that style but with sharper, crisper lines and higher resolutions. part of why the whole "secret horses" style of ai medium fell through the cracks was because a: diffusion models were significantly faster and b: diffusion models scale upwards significantly better - they can produce higher resolutions and perform upscaling, which CLIP + VQGAN (the old method that made all the jank we all used to love) can't really do.
i think people whose sole interest in ai is making shitty advertisement images, or giant anime boobs, or some other lowest common denomenator slop, like... okay. you do you, the saying is "90% of everything is shit" for a reason, but obviously i think that's incredibly boring. i think the reason we see a lot of it is because a: the Good Artists who use AI are still effectively social pariahs, particularly on twitter and tumblr, just via dint of their medium, and b: ai puts art making in the hands of EVERYONE and it turns out not everyone has good taste (see: 90% of everything is shit), so you just see a lot more shit by volume.
anyway in terms of "traditional art" i am an author (READ CHUM) and a bassist, although i haven't been in a band in many years as my arthritis prevents me from playing for very long or very well anymore. if you mean traditional art as in like... paint and easel, or pen and paper, the answer is no. i've never had the ability to comfortably grasp anything with my hands even before the arthritis happened and now i lack not only the fine motor skills for it but also the pain threshold. i do like legos though, and i'd love to start making lego dioramas.
thanks for asking :)
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