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greyskyflowers · 7 months

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Bits and Pieces of fics I'll probably never finish:

MarcoAce

Reincarnation/magical realism/modern AU

Ace inherits an old house on the coast from Shanks. The house is a mess and full of strange things but he has a great time fixing it up.

Along the way he learns about the people who lived in the house before him, gets a visit from his younger brother and his friends, and meets an odd group of people from town that seem to have adopted him as one of their own. He also meets a man named Marco.

Ace has rarely felt as lost as he does standing in front of his new home.

The house is two stories and a shadow of what it once must have been, with a beautiful porch now all rotten and threatening to fall in. The house might have been painted a pretty slate color at on point but was now a mess of dirt, salt and rot

It was liveable though and that's all that matters. It's with a strong mix of excitement and dread that he opens the door.

Dust bellows out and the shadows peek around the corners to see who's visiting.

The light in the kitchen is on but when he goes in to investigate the room is dark and the bulb broken.

The wallpaper reachs out and tugs gently at his hair when he walks past.

He sweeps the shadows back to their corners, now clean enough for them to begrudgingly stay there

He takes down the old lace curtains and goes to soak them in water, hoping he might be able to save some of them. They're hard with age and grey with dust but beautifully made and look to have been snow white at one point.

He cleans all the cabinets and doors, sweeping out the bad and old, opening the windows to call in the good.

The day tumbles in as sunlight on floor that has been in the dark for years. Spiders tiptoe over the floor to see where they can hang their own lacey and silky webs.

He finds some old wood by the fireplace in the main room and decides that until he gets the heating working again, this will work fine.

The wood catches easily, incredibly dry and old as it is. It burns blue green for a moment before fading to the normal red yellow, the flames cast shadows that look like feathers on the walls.

He shakes out the old welcome mat on the front porch and leaves an iron coin under it when he sets it back down. He keeps the door open behind him.

Each room he enteres for the first time is given a soft greeting and the windows propped open.

He's painting one of the ground floor bedrooms when someone knocks at the door. He's right in the middle of doing the small work around the window though so he debates ignoring it.

The paintbrush slips out of his fingers and lands on the one of the tarps he had put down. Well... he might as well get the door since he was to climb off the ladder now anyway.

Ace feels his breath catch when he looked at it. It was stunning.

"I didn't even know that they came in this color."

Marco uses the hem of his shirt to dry it off.

"The ocean does strange things sometimes. Red pearls hardly seem that odd when you think about it."

He looks at Ace from the corner of his eye and holds out his hand to drop the pearl into the younger man's hand. It falls to his palm like a drop of blood.

"You should keep it. Maybe if we find enough you can make a necklace."

Ace rolls the red pearl around between his finger, it looks like glass in the light and is surprisingly heavy.

"You think I could pull off a whole necklace of these?" He means it as a joke but Marco doesn't take it that way.

"Yes." He says without hesitant.

"Oh."

Ace lets the silence hang between them. He feels like he missed something but isn't sure what it was.

His toes sink into the sand and the water throws foam at his ankles. It's cold and grey today.

"Are you cold?" Marco seems surprised.

"Yeah. I get cold easy, Luffy always made fun of me for it when we were younger. He'd be running around bare chested and in shorts all year around and I'd start bundling up early fall."

"That's funny. You seem more like the type to be warm all the time."

Ace grins. "Are you saying I'm hot?"

Marco laughs and the shoreline doesn't seem as colorless as it had earlier.

Zoro with his thrift shop gold earrings and dyed green hair that only he could pull off. Scars from past fights still color his skin and the scars are silver lines when the sun catches them. He's always half a step behind his brother.

Usopp has his thick curls piled on top of his head in a messy bun and is telling a story about the time he saved someone from drowning to anyone close enough to listen.

Chopper, graduated high school and then college so young but so smart. Losing his way before managing to find a place with Luffy. Every part of him glows in shades of brown and gold in the afternoon sun.

Franky has sleeves of both arms, black and grey ink that makes designs like gears and stars and other pieces of metal. It's stunning artwork that almost looks real, his wife Robin the one who had done all of it.

Robin who always seems to know more than you. She works remote, no one knowing what she does or if they do they're not telling Ace. Whatever it is doesn't need her to work often and pays very well. It's shady but so is Robin, so it works.

Brook, a older man who had outlived everyone he loved. He had been absorbed into the little group quickly and he was thriving. A collection of terrible jokes, beautiful music, and life stories that seems straight out of a fantasy book.

Nami waves her phone around trying to get service. Her peach, gold hair spills down her back in rings and she looks annoyed. Her girlfriend is a blue blob on her phone that's laughing at her, if the airy giggle cutting in and out was any indication.

Luffy has the strawhat their godfather had given him when he was younger hanging from his neck. The man was a menace. Makino and Benn the only people that could keep him in line. His hair looks like ink in the sun and his shoulders are broader than last time Ace had seen him.

It makes something catch in his chest that he'd missed it.

The lock is rusted and heavy. He tugs on it and lets Luffy try his hand at it too.

"Maybe we can pick it somehow?"

The little built in hideaway is interesting and he'd like to keep it if they could avoid damaging it while trying to open it.

Luffy rubs his chin and looks at the opening of the lock.

"Nami!" He bellows.

Ace rears back at the yell right next to his ear and faintly hears something yelled back.

Luffy stands up and goes to the window, leaning out if it.

"We need you to pick a lock!"

Ace tunes them out as he keeps fiddling with the lock until he hears heels coming up the stairs.

Nami is vivid in the bare and dusty room, all bright colors and loud personality.

Ace moves to the side to let her look at the lock.

"Oh, yeah. I can do this."

She unrolls a small cloth bundle she has with her and grabs some tools to work with.

Ace watches her scrap off some of the rust to get into the keyhole and start carefully moving the picks.

"And.. there."

The lock falls to the floor with a heavy thud.

She steps back and lets Ace in front of the little cabinet.

"You think it's food?"

Ace makes a face.

"I hope not. We couldn't eat it anyway... I mean, could we? I guess it depends what it was."

Nami looks disgusted.

"I'm getting Zoro up here to watch you two. I refuse to watch you morons eat whatever comes out of there."

She leans out the window and yells down at Zoro before turning and leaving the room in a kick up of dust.

The little door is still shut and it seems like the house is holding its breath.

The wood has swollen over time, and it takes a decent amount of pulling before it gives, Ace tumbling back on his butt when it suddenly opens.

Old air seeps out in a grateful breath, blowing back his hair and Luffy's hat flutters against his back. The breeze takes off towards the window and is gone.

Enough light shines in to start cautiously sneaking a look into the dark, cool hole in the wall.

"Water?"

He pulls out a few jars with clear liquid in it. He twists the top off and recoils instantly.

"Holy shit, That's moonshine." He takes another tentative sniff. "Nope, I take it back. That's lighterfluid. No human should drink this."

He shoves the cap back on and rubs his eyes. Luffy snags the jar with a whoop.

"Zoro will love these. Gimme."

The jars are swept up in skinny arms and Luffy takes off down the stair already calling for his best friend.

With a shake to clear his head, Ace is back to seeing what he can find.

He pulls out a small cloth bag, some small seeds falling into his hand when he opens it.

He can't tell what they where but maybe he can ask Robin or Usopp when he goes back downstairs. They carefully go back in their bag before being set aside.

He pulls out another piece of cloth. It's soft with wear and ragged like it had been torn from something. There's a skull on the front with maybe smoke curling around it? Ace looks closer, a mustache? He can't help the small laugh that escapes him, what a weird thing to hide away.

There are a few more odds and ends that he pulls out. Some old coins, a wicked knife with a curved handle, a small jar of sand all stuck in a clump, and way in the back was a book.

He pulls it out last, dusty and bulging with pages stuffed between the old leather that binds it all together.

He flips it over and brushes the dust off the cover. It's blank but clearly well loved, with ink and paint along the edges and the occasional stray drop on the front.

He opens it carefully, scared it will break in his hands but it holds strong.

It's a sketchbook.

He turns each page with wonder. Paintings of the sea that smelled of salt and leave his fingers wet, trees that wave their leaves at him as he turns the pages, ink drawings of a couple dancing with a dressed flaring up around the woman as she twirls into the man's arms.

Occassionally a photo was stuck in. The same dark haired man and smiling woman in every one.

They look happy.

The second to last page has a photo of just the woman, sitting on the window seat he recognizes from one of the other upstairs rooms. She looks like she was watching someone out the window, hand held up like she was going to wave and a happy look on her face. The other hand was curled around her belly, a very clear baby bump visible under the blue of the dress.

He turns the final page, not expecting anything else but a dried flower falls into his lap.

Carefully picked up by the stem he holds it up, this he recognizes. It's a hibiscus flower, more of a deep red than the vibrant pink he usually associates with them but otherwise age has been kind to the flower.

It's carefully tucked back into the book and he gathers everything up in his arms before carefully taking it downstairs.

Robin is in the kitchen when he comes down, looking at the stuff in his arms with a raised eye brow.

"Hey Robin, do you know what these are? Like what plant they might be?"

He fishes out the little bag and hands them to the older women. She lets out a hum as she carefully opens it. The seeds are a mix of brown, fuzzy circles like shapes and tiny, ovals with some fluff at the top.

"I think these are hibiscus seeds." She carefully rolls the larger ones to one side of her hand and pokes at the smaller ones. "I'm not sure what these are. Usopp might know."

Almost like he'd been called, Usopp tumbles in the kitchen in a rush of boots on wood and the smell of sunshine.

"Have you guys seen Sanji? I stole some cookies he made for Nami and I think he knows."

"No, we haven't. May we steal you for a moment though?"

"Sure!"

Robin holds out the seeds for him to see.

"Ace would like help identifying these. I belive the one on the left are hibiscus but am unsure of the other one."

Usopp rubs his chin and looks at them closer.

"The one is definitely hibiscus. The other one is a wildflower, maybe goldenrod?"

Chopper run into the room and grabs at Usopp's pants.

"He knows! He knows about the cookies!"

The both take off around the corner and leave Robin and Ace in the dust.

He takes the seeds back and makes sure they're safely back in the bag.

"Thanks. Probably would have taken me forever."

"Of course." She smiles and looks out the window.

"I think your brother has decided it's time for us to move along."

Ace looks out the window and watches everyone climb into their monstrosity of an RV that's 100% not legal to drive but doesn't seem to stop them. There's fruit trees growing from the top and a giant lion painted on the side that they affectionately call Sunny. Luffy hangs from the side while Franky finishes something up under the hood.

He couldn't help the way his eyes dart from Luffy to Zoro and back.

"Umm.. er..." He isn't sure how to ask.

Zoro looks pleased that he'd think that but they both shake their heads.

"No, his name is Tora-o! Besides, Zoro and Sanji are dating."

"Really?" He can't help the surprise in his voice and watches Zoro flush while smacking Luffy on the head. He can't say he saw that one coming but he can kind of see it if he thinks about it.

Sanji is elegant, if you ignore the fact that he can have a hell of a temper when provoked. He's a good balance for the wilderness that live dunder Zoro's skin.

Sanji has a goal and aspirations and while Zoro has goals as well, he's content to go where the flow takes him.

They go together well.

"Sanji spoils Zoro and makes him special stuff to eat but not me."

Ace laughs at the face Luffy makes. Always worried more about food than anything else.

"You like the water a lot than, huh?"

Marco smiles and turns his gaze out to the horizon.

"I think I must have been unable to swim in a past life. I can't seem to get very far from the shore before it calls me back."

Ace pulls his knees up and rests his chin on them.

"You know, most people would have said they were a fish in their past life if they love water."

He knocks shoulders with the other man to show his teasing.

Marco bumps him back and stretches his legs out so the waves can pull at his feet.

"Nah. I think sometimes we love something so much because we must have been denied it at some point."

"So not a fish, maybe a desert lizard or something. Oh! A cactus!"

Marco laughs. "I was thinking more along the lines of maybe a bird. Although I suppose a cactus is possible."

"My mom died giving birth to me, so I never knew her. My dad was.. we were never really close. He was gone a lot. I think he loved me but.." Ace trails off.

Thunder rumbles outside and shakes the window panes.

"I almost drowned when I was younger. My dad lost track of me and I went under. He got me out but the water in my lungs was dirty and gave me nasty infection. It was touch and go for awhile. I think he blamed himself. We were never the same after that and he died 2 years later."

The smell of cedar curls out of the fire to whisper against his cheek.

Marco's eyes burn indigo and gold from the fire, harsh shadows cast across his face.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure your mother loved you very much and your dad too. Sometimes it can be hard to show how much you care."

Shanks was unusually stonefaced at the door, Benn next to him finishing a cigarette.

"Hey Shanks. I didn't know you were coming...?" He leaves his greeting open ended with hopes of getting a clue on what was happening but he doesn't get anything.

"Hey kid. Thought we'd swing by, see how it's going."

He lets them in and a door upstairs slams shut.

They all look up and Ace leds them to the kitchen when nothing else happens.

"You want a drink?"

"Yeah, actually that'd be great."

They don't say anything else while Ace gets the drinks and it's making him sweat.

He puts the drinks down and follows suit, sitting at the old oak table across from the two men and waits. He hasn't hung a clock yet but the sound of one ticking can be heard loud and clear.

A piece of the ceiling that he hasn't gotten around to fixing yet falls on Shanks head, who grumbls and looks up before taking a big drink.

"I know, I know."

He takes a deep breath and looks Ace in the eyes.

"Alright, this is something I should have done years ago but I wasn't sure how to do it. Probably didn't want to if I'm honest."

Ace swallows nervously and shots a look at Benn, who lifts another cigarette and lights it without saying anything.

"I told you when I gave you the house that'd I'd been holding onto it for someone. I was. It was someone who had been like a father to me growing up. His name was Roger and he lived here with his wife, Rouge."

He stops and takes another drink.

"Rouge died and Roger disappeared. If I'm being honest, I think he took off somewhere to die of a broken heart. He was devastated. Rouge would have kicked his ass if she knew what he'd done but he didn't know how to live without her anymore. They'd lived in this house with the intention of raising a family and it ended up empty."

"I'm sorry."

Ace isnt really sure what to say but it's clear this is hard for Shanks.

"It wasn't a good situation and he didn't handle it well. Roger was a good man. People who didn't knew him may say otherwise but he always did right by me. He took care of Rouge and his friends, everyone else was unimportant. Which, I suppose, may make him a bad man in a lot of people's eyes."

He puts the drink down and reaches in his pocket to take out a folded photo. He gazes at it for a moment before setting it down and sliding it over to Ace.

It was the couple. The man and women he'd seen in the sketchbook and now had names for, Rouge and Roger.

"I found some of their stuff. I didn't think about if you'd wa-... would you like it?"

It was hard to look away from the couple but he forced himself to look up.

"No. That's actually why we're here. Rogue and Roger were your parents."

The house is quiet, almost as quiet as the first time Ace had stepped foot in it.

"I don't understand. People always told me that my mom died giving birth to me and I knew my dad."

Benn puts out his cigarette when Shanks doesn't say anything and takes over.

"A friend of your dad took you in. We thought he'd be the best option. As for your mom, she did die during childbirth. Rouge lived long enough to hold you and give you your name before she died."

He wants to deny it. He wants to yell, tell them this was a stupid joke or that it doesn't make sense.

It does though. He'd never asked too much about his mom, already ached for a mother he never got to know and details would just hurt more. The man who he had known as his father hadn't looked like him. He doesn't doubt that the man cared but small things that hadn't made sense at the time now start to.

All of the sudden the photo is cruel. He can see his freckles on her face, his dark hair and stormy eyes on him, can see the shape of his face and eyes in both of them. All of it was looking back at him from a photo older than he was.

"This is cruel." His eyes sting but it wasn't anything to how his chest aches. "This is the cruelest thing you could have ever done to me."

They don't say anything and he doesn't want them to.

"Get out."

"...I'm sorry, Ace."

"Just get out." The front door is already open and he follows them as far as the threshold.

"They loved you." Shanks says.

"What am I suppose to do with that? What's suppose to hurt less in this situation? The idea that mom left because she died and Roger made the decision to leave because I wasn't enough of a reason to live or they loved me and you kept that from me?"

The door closes with a heavy sound and echoes through an empty house.

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chemicalpink · 1 year

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A Yule Ball Celebration | PJM

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre/Rating: magical realism-ish, Harry Potter AU-ish (i say ish bc i took a lot of creative freedom with it), fluff, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, PG17

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: strong language, breakup,

Summary: Park Jimin shines so bright, he often brings a bit of darkness into the lives’ of the people he cares about. There’s nothing that can’t be talked about over winter holidays and a heartfelt gift tho.

A/N: Done for @hobeemin in light of @bangtansecretsantasanta HELLO BEEZY! I’m Sugarplum! I hope you enjoy this little piece and it brings a bit of warmth to you in light of this cold winter!

There is nearly nothing that Park Jimin’s presence wouldn’t alter around campus, the sole mention of his name would spark humongous interest in everyone’s eyes–not that you could really blame them for it. There was just something otherworldly and ethereal about the guy. From the perfectly timed skip in his step to the way that his cloak seemed to dance around him in thin air, the way the light caught onto his platinum locks and how his head gets thrown back as a humorous laugh catches in the back of his throat.

“Morning” the whole place opens up for him as if entranced, the melodious tone of his voice laced with the royal sentiment of the green tone in his robes, Jimin had an aura to him that made him as enticing as lethal as he was– that, you would know– being top tier in class ever since he joined Hogwarts, raised inside a pureblood family, the man was on top of his game as a Dark Arts specialist as soon as he turned 20, now, three years later, he remains as Slytherin’s favourite prefect down the line, continuing his legacy up to the college division.

Winter at Hogwarts had always proved to be on the lonely side as most students got to go home once finals were out, some of them– mostly college peers– were seen around the dormitories up until Christmas Eve when they would leave to celebrate outside the campus. You never really were one to pass the holidays outside of campus, rather preferring to enjoy the quiet and calmness that the school was able to provide during the season, even more so after your family had moved overseas and made it just a tad bit more difficult for you to visit them and be back on time for the new semester.

“Promise to call if you change your mind?” your friend says as you stand by the entrance with her, it had just started to snow that morning, painting the campus white, fairy lights decorating its entirety.

You roll your eyes at your friend’s concern laced in her words– the thought of leaving you behind during this time seemed unfathomable to her “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it”

“I’ll leave a space for you on the table!”

She’s mostly down the street, drowned out by the snow around you as you yell out a faint “Tell your mother I say hi!”

Christmas Eve remains by far the most eerily quiet day on-site– except for the ghostly party that can be heard coming from the walls– it has been years into it, enough for the kitchen to have you a special meal prepared even as the staff has left for the day, which never fails to put a smile to your face.

The heat is blaring inside the library, opposite to the starched white floor-length mirrors that peek to the gardens outside, even in the almost pitch black sky, fire crackling as background noise as you opt to facetime your mother.

“I was really hoping to see you this year-round, Y/N” there’s understanding in her voice even if her eyes get a bit glassy as she lets her facade slip when she lifts your little brother up to her hip. You really can’t blame the sentiment of hers as you watch the background from her side, your whole family gathered up, smiles on their faces as they get ready for dinner; out of the corner of your eye, you don’t fail to catch the empty seat that has been reserved for you at the table. Your brother starts to stir impatiently and your mother sparks a laugh, trying to keep it lighthearted for your sake “Especially this little guy, he’s soon to be all grown up and sent off to school!”

There’s a distinct sparkle in the kid’s eyes as he peers through the screen, grabby hands and all, babbling out barely a word that has your heart skipping a beat “Mimi! Mimi!”

Your mind instantly begins racing as your mother opts to try and change the subject– even if the mere syllable had already brought back the memories of last Christmas, a trip home with your family and the person who you had thought would be by your side for just a little longer. It was hard enough to explain to your parents that you were dating Park Jimin in the first place back when you were in high school, almost freshly dispatched to Hogwarts – a sweethearts for life type of love story, or so was the word that got around as the two of you grew stronger up to college– it was even harder to explain how seven years after, it had all ended. The news never got around to the youngest in the family– not that he would even grasp the idea of what a breakup was supposed to be.

You were different to Park Jimin in more ways than anyone could count, it was surprising how you couldn’t see the impending downfall right from the beginning. There was just something supreme and ulterior that had always seemed to move Jimin forward, opinionated and charismatic, always in the spotlight, a star that shone brightly on his own, while you remained as the moon that was set to orbit around him, a shared spark of his that pushed you into an unwelcomed limelight as his determination to keep moving forward increased.

“Well, you can’t just expect me to decline!”

“You’ve had your taste of fame, Park, this would be your third year as prefect, assisting head of house, teaching assistant, student council president” “Am I missing any other title? When will you actually have time to own up to the title of being my fiancé? Huh? Or is that also getting relegated for another year?”

“We are not kids anymore Y/N, those titles actually mean something to me, to my family’s legacy”

You scruff out a harsh laugh “So us getting married like we planned is not as important? Is it got nothing to do with your ‘family legacy’? I call bullshit Jimin”

“You’re just jealous about everything I’ve been able to achieve while you still get your head wrapped up in fairytales of a better world, feeding yourself lies of getting to change the way that the world works around here, Y/N” you can almost physically feel your heart breaking at his words, the insecurities of it all suffocating you as you think back to all those times he had seemingly encouraged you towards what he considered an unattainable dream, even as his face now remains stoic as ever “For all of ours sakes I hope you fucking prove me wrong Y/N, on your own”

Your mother’s voice bring you back to the present as she keeps her eyes locked on her screen “I thought you said the campus was empty”

“It is” your mother points her finger to your back at the same time as a little mop of hair appears on the screen again screaming delightfully.

“Hey buddy! Happy holidays Mrs. Y/N!”

“Same to you Jimin, I’ll uh- better catch up with your father Y/N! Love you!

The screen was off before you even got a chance to consider your surroundings, stuck with letting the silence seep through for whatever reason Jimin had stayed back for the holidays and on top of it decided to approach you so abruptly. Words weren’t really needed after knowing each other for so long, even after the two of you fell from grace, which is no surprise when he materialises a gift box from thin air, red ribbon perked on top of the golden wrap around it. Your hands are shaking as you take the present from him, a smile on his lips, along with a faint blush that you can’t really tell if it’s from the heated room or not.

Your voice is small even if you expected it not to be, the memories and the feelings all rushing back “I never got around to buying you anything”

“Y/N I’m not gifting you something expecting something in return, that’s- that’s not how it works”

“Well yes but-”

“We broke up at the beginning of the year, I don’t expect you to consider me in your Christmas presents list, I just happened to see this and it made me think of you” his eyes never stop following your hand’s movements as you unwrap the present, there’s a spark in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in so long as he sees your smile as you lock your eyes with his, fingers tracing the cover of one of the rarest books he used to always call fairytales– almost impossible to recover, you aren’t even sure you want to know exactly how he did it in order to place the first magical-mundane peace treaty manifesto in your very own hands.

“Thank you”

The light in the room seems to dim, the fire crackling louder, you even become aware of how close the two of you had made yourselves sit in the heat of the moment, knees touching, his eyes shyly glancing at your lips as a million possibilities run through your head– you can’t really be surprised at the magnetic pull he still holds over you as your breath fans over his mouth, a shy and tender moment of vulnerability in between “Why did we ever grow apart, Jimin?”

He closes his eyes as his hand comes up to cup your cheek, a million sparkles run through your body and you guess, you had always understood the mysticism behind Park Jimin “Sometimes people shine brighter when you admire them from apart and don’t let them burn you, Y/N”

#bss2022 #jimin fic #bts oneshot #bts fanfic #bts fic #jimin oneshot #jimin fanfic #bts x reader #jimin x reader #btshoneyhive #park jimin imagine #jimin imagine #bts imagine

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ao3feed-tododeku · 11 months

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Winter Memories

Winter Memories by GhostlyPages

“You're home!” Izuku murmured excitedly. “I'm home, starlight,” Katsuki answered. Shoto pressed a kiss into Katsuki's temple and he felt himself smile.

Something about the magic being at its highest. “Darling–” “I won't do it again! Promise!” Katsuki huffed quietly, and Shoto chuckled quietly as he grabbed Katsuki's hand. And still, he couldn't believe that he was home again.

“Hot chocolate?” Shoto asked quietly, and Katsuki nodded as he gently led the greenette to the living room. The orange tabby cat that Izuku often bickered with, albeit fondly, followed with his head lowered.

“Happy Yule, Izuku.” Katsuki laced their fingers together, smiling softly as Shoto nuzzled in closer to the two awake beings.

Words: 613, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of TWB MCC Event

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M, Multi

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto

Additional Tags: Witch Midoriya Izuku, Werewolf Todoroki Shouto, Vampire Bakugou Katsuki, Wolf Todoroki Shouto, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Magic, Alternate Universe - Magic, Magical Realism, TWB MCC Event, TWB MCC Event Lime Llamas, TWB MCC Event Hole in the Wall

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47710246

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Todobakudeku #💣#💥#Todobakudeku #♣#R:G #A:GhostlyPages #Vampire AU #Werewolf AU #Witch AU

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carpenoctxrn · 10 months

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Fjall Stoneheart x Reader

A/N: Okay so I just want to say on my birthday my situationship came to my house and we went into the garage where I rode his dick and this inspired by that. And yes you’re wearing panties even though realistically they don’t exist in this fashion during this time period, but let's be honest we don't read these stories for realism but to entertain our delusions. And yes it's the one with chains like the one in this link touch/click this blue text

TW: Mean Fjall, flirtatious reader, reader gets called slurs, choking, mentions of blood, someone gets shot, small fight scene, and smut. 18+ viewers only and minors are not welcomed to engage with this post.

Reader P.o.V

The life of a mage under Chief Balor was prestigious and one of great importance to the crown and the people. Announcing that I was a mage to the crown held a sense of superiority to it that made my family proud. However prestigious my title is, it’s also equally boring and predictable.

Every day I would study the magic again as I did yesterday, go to the potions room to brew some basic elixirs, go to the ward to aid in healing some diseases, and then call it a day. That was my responsibility and duty ever since I came down from the mountains.

As I woke up the night sky was slowly fading into a new day, creating a beautiful dawn before sunrise. I smiled towards the big balcony opening in my small 6 by 8 something ft room. As my feet touched the cold tile-like floor a jolt of shiver ran through my spine. Going to my fireplace in the room I placed a pot filled with water on the mantle to heat it up. As that was heating I grabbed a clean rag to wash my body with and a big bowl to mix the piping hot water with cold.

As the whistle blew from the pot I knew two more and my water would be piping hot and ready for me. During that time I decided to put my hair in a bun as I leaned against the balcony.

The moon was barely visible in the sky and so were the stars. The hue of black and navy were lost to the shades of blue and purple. The morning sky looked more magical than the magic I practiced. Its natural ability to produce something so captivating in order for our survival is a wonder that many should enjoy.

A whistle passed and I headed inside. Preparing my soap solution of butter and some plant based essential oil. Rosemary, sage, and butter for my skin, while for my face I used butter with frangipani, and for my hair I used rosemary and peppermint oils.

The third whistle blew and I realized that I will not be not washing my hair today as my curls were bouncier and it would be a tragedy if I were to wash it. So I put my hair solution away in the storage cabinet as I stripped out of my white lace trimmed white gown. Tying my hair in a bun with a wooden hair pin.

Taking the pot of water I poured some into the bowl and then placed the pot on the floor in front of the fireplace. As I reached towards my bigger storage room temperature water that I asked to be stored for showering and cleaning purposes. Taking a few smaller bowls of the cold water I mixed them into the bigger bowl like a cauldron with hot water. The steam evaporated from the extinguishing heat and became the perfect temperature for me to clean myself.

First I started with applying my soap all over my body. Then I stepped onto my sleeping cloth as I began wetting the white piece of cloth with my prepared water. I washed my face first, the warm water that dripped from the cloth made its way down my body, gathering in a little pool under my feet and soaking into the white cloth. Then I cleaned my neck, shoulder, arms, breast, stomach, thighs, and knees. I then came back and cleaned under my breast, my armpits, and then my private area.

After quickly finishing up my cleaning process, I wrapped a fluffy cloth around myself to dry and keep warm as I decided on what I would step out of my room in. Today I had adorned a Silver dress that was embellished with tinsel thread. The dress had a sweetheart neckline that fought tight against my breast. Lifting it up a bit and giving it a volume.

I wore a necklace that held a small vial of holy water from the temples in the mountain near my village. I opened my hair from the hair bun it was in, letting it fall freely around my shoulders to frame my face and shoulders. Grabbing some hair on the right and left side of my face, I tied it to the back of my head by weaving in a clip to secure the strands away from my face.

Looking outside I saw it was nearing sunset, which meant I had the chance to see Fjall Stoneheart train. Him and his dog clan would wake up at the crack of dawn to train, and at a certain point they would stop for breakfast and shower. But before that happens it's two hours of relenting training. Training that made their muscles swell, veins pop, and body sweat. Making Fjalls swell, veins pop, and his muscles shine in sweat.

His tan like skin would glisten in sun and moon light. The darkness of the sky was perfect for someone like Fjall, his movements always manipulated the light around him to achieve his goal. In a way as predictable as his schedule was to mine, making him my crush that I would admire from afar. In a sense he brought a sense of danger and unpredictableness into my life.

Would he look at me?

Does he know I stare at him?

Does he know I wore this for him?

As obsessive and consumed my thoughts were for Fjall, nothing more than a stare and a nod in the hallways had occurred between us two. Even though I have been a resident here at the castle for three years and him much longer, I just recently began hanging around his presence. I knew he saw my lurking shadows, my long mindless stares on his broad shoulders and his toned stomach. I knew he saw the physical attraction I had for him, but he would just brush it away.

Quickly making way to the outside corridors of the palace, I was greeted with the sound of sword clashing and slurs being thrown amongst the dog clan members. I have been coming here for the past few weeks and my appearance has always brought up questions.

I would respond to the questions, with vague answers that I am studying the morning sky or with a complex and mystique response of astrological terms put in a manner that made sense but was pure nonsense. Or I would say I am studying the constellation, although that response had been seen as an invitation for some of the guards to talk about their love of the stars - so quickly I had stopped saying that. Not wanting the people to know that I truly was studying the anatomy of Fjall Stoneheart.

Fjall Stoneheart who’s scar made him look more like a protector than anything. His wide and defensive stance made it look like he knew what he was doing but in reality he was just messing with everyone. At this point he made silly mistakes allowing his opponent to think they have advantage but he would quickly prove them wrong. In a way he loved giving hope to take it all away. He was sadistic in a way that people wouldn’t see unless they saw him.

I took notes of the star constellation because I did end up having to study the basics of the morning sky for astrology because Chief Balor had caught word about my little pursuit and demanded weekly reports.

Sighing I jolted down some quick notes before using the sextant for some numbers and using those values as numbers for an equation. After doing meaningless and mundane calculations for thirty minutes I realised the noise in the background of swords and shouts had quieted.

“And now Fjall will fight Eredin. Sort it all at once if the clan is stronger or the army.” Announced Fjall’s father.

Out of curiosity I peaked up from my position on the gate walls 25 feet high. The fight commenced and the word to describe it was intense. Fjall would block any attack from Eredin and the vice would be the same for Eredin. For some reason in the word of the two parties fighting caught the attention of the Princess as she made her way down to the arena.

At her arrival the fight stopped but with her permission it continued. Everyone’s attention was drawn to the fight, sweat and small gashes were visible on the two fighters' faces. Their hands bruised and battered. Their chest heaved for air. Everyone was so focused on the fight that they could probably recount how many punches Fjall landed on Eredin and how much Eredin had kicked Fjall.

No one was focused on the princess, except for me. In my sight in order for me to watch the fight I would also have the Princess and her surrounding in my sight. So the black cloaked figure that was already suspicious had my intrigue as it lurked closer to the Princess. I watched as the figure took out a dagger only a few feet away from the princess, making it look like they were about to stab her from the back. Only then did I see the other associates lined up behind Chief Balor and Fjall’s father.

Luckily the wall I occupied had arrows in quivers and bows placed. It was the wall used for archery games to hunt ducks or quails whilst also training. Very common amongst younger trainee’s. Grabbing the bow and an arrow I angled it at the man behind the princess, assessing that her death will be Imminent unless I act fast.

“WATCH OUT! SHE’S ABOUT TO SHOOT THE PRINCESS!” someone shouted from the crowd. I could hear the fight stop as shouts begin.

The princess quickly stood up from her spot making the man behind her jump closer to his target. In the spur of the moment I took aim and fired. The arrow shot past her and hit the men in the shoulder. He fell to the ground while the princess screamed and cowered behind her handmaid.

I took the bow and hit one behind Balor. He didn’t move out of my line when I aimed it towards him. When it came to Fjall’s father, as I aimed it towards the perpetrator behind him, Fjall jumped and got the arrow instead.

Not wanting the perpetrator to escape in the commotion or to injure Fjall again, I hit him with a yellow dusted arrow to mark him. Running down the stairs I was met with shoulders of fearful and scared patrons who were running, others who were fighting the invaders, and some protecting the fallen.

As I approached the cloaked figure with yellow dust on its cape I touched their shoulder for them to turn around. As soon as they did I punched their face with all I got. They fell back with a thud leaving my knuckles with an aching pain feeling.

The commotion that surrounded me died down as more armies came with the Prince in tow. Running over to the huddled group of people near Fjall that also included the Princess I bent down.

“Fjall, Fjall” Sobbed the princess uncontrollably.

“His fine Princess.” I said to her as a means to assure her and to console her as I sat on my knees next to Fjall and beside her.

“Easy for you to say,” Spoke the gruff voice of Fjall, “You’re not the one with an arrow poking out of your chest, are you?” He retorted with an annoying look. His heavy accent laced his words with more character and my ears loved every sound that he made.

“No and you’ll never catch me being delirious enough to stand between an arrow and it's target,” I spoke as I took a dagger laying on the floor nearby and tore his tunic with it.

“When the target is someone from the clan I will always stand in the path of the arrow,” He stubbornly retorted back as his father and some people that surrounded us pushed him on his back flat.

“Well the target of my arrow was the one behind your father about to dagger him,” I said back as I touched and observed the skin around his wound to make sure that it wasn't fatal.

“What?” He asked, groaning in pain when I made a move to take out the foreign object in his body.

“I guess this time you got in the path of justice or salvation,” I muttered mindlessly as I grabbed the cotton pad the Princess was offering me and placed a few around his wound and the rest on his chiseled stomach. After doing so I looked at my patient.

As we held eye contact I could feel myself growing red with his attention.

“It’ll feel better if you scream,” I said as I motioned to my hands that were gripping the arrow in his abdomen.

He just gave me an annoyed gruff in response as he laid his head back.

Taking that as a signal, I counted till three in my head and pulled the arrow out at a steady speed. As soon as it was out of his skin I took the pad that I hadn’t used before and I applied it to the open wound. The blood was oozing out but it wasn't enough to kill him. Weaken him for a day or two but he would survive and be back to normal in no time.

“Healer! Someone get the Healer please!” Screamed the Princess right next to me as she stared at the blood, before standing up to run to someone for help.

“You didn’t scream,” I said, amazed at Fjall, as I stared at my hands that were placed over the clothes applying pressure to his bleeding.

“I prefer to be the one who makes others scream,” He replied back smugly as he lifted both his hands to place it behind his head as cushion.

As I looked up ready to respond to him I saw that I was the only one who was crouched by his figure. The other’s aid in hunting the perpetrators of the event or helping heal those who were injured.

“In pleasure or pain?” I questioned jokingly as I averted my eyes to make sure the cotton pads were not slipping from his subtle movements.

“Whichever one you prefer,” He said back, making me snap my face to his.

A smile formed on my face as I erupted in a small laughter. Before we could continue with our little banter the healer had come by and began helping me in getting him to stand up. The healer and a soldier helped Fjall into a treatment room a few halls away from the commotion. It was closer to the potions room so I announced I will grab some potions and I will be right back. Potions I knew that weren’t available to the healers just at a moment's notice.

Running back I quickly entered the potions room making sure to tell the guard/ clerk what my intentions were. Being a Brewer meant I had a much better and more free reign than healers. Grabbing a few healing and strength potions I brewed yesterday I quickly made my way out showing the potions I had taken.

It had been close to twenty minutes and when I went downstairs to where Fjall was. His treatment room had shelves of medicinal herbs in rows at the front of the room and at the back on the right side of the room was a fireplace. On the wall against the back of the room was a big window that overlooked the mountains and forest a few miles away from the kingdom. It was right by the window that had the cot in which Fjall was lying in. Wearing nothing but his pants.

“Did they stitch you up so fast?” I asked him, amazed at the speed.

“No they just left, saying that one of the prince’s guard’s wives is delivering a baby and the other healer’s don’t have much experience with deliveries so” He paused to look over to me “they reassured me someone would come.” He said annoyed and looked tired.

“I could stitch you up?” I offered him. He just raised an eyebrow at me before an amused look came over him.

“What?” I questioned the look he was giving with furrowed eyebrows of my own.

“Nothing, just didn’t expect you to offer, that’s it.” He stated plainly as he made movements to sit up.

“No, just lay back.” I directed him with a push on his chest to lay back. His skin was coated with stickiness from his sweat. He burned hot maybe from the weather and maybe from his wound.

“You’re burning up Fjall,” I spoke as I poured sanitizing liquid over small sharp needles and the silken thread that was attached to it for me to stitch his wound.

“Maybe because I’ve been bleeding for the past half hour,” He states the obvious with an annoyed look on his face.

“You know in the past hour of our interaction I have seen your face be more annoyed than anyone I’ve known my entire life,” I said as I poured some herbal liquid on a patch of cloth to sterilize the area around his wound.

“Maybe because I don't really talk to someone after they shoot an arrow into me,” He said gruffly in an annoyed tone.

“I didn’t mean to shoot an arrow into you, the arrow was meant for someone else,” I said in a hushed tone as I picked up a vial of liquid herbs needed to wash out the dirt and bacteria in his wound.

“Hmph” He noises out. Acknowledging what I said but not truly adding anything more to it.

“This will burn so try not to move or scream too much,” I said as I pulled out the cork and placed the vile in position to pour it into his wound, making sure to have thick clothes available so the liquid wouldn't get soaked on the cot under him.

He looked at me and just scoffed as I rolled my eyes at his actions.

“I told you I don’t scream, I prefer to make others scream,” He said with a smirk that quickly turned into grimace as I poured a little bit of the black viscous liquid onto the open flesh.

He hissed but he didn’t scream.

“I’m sorry, but the stitches will hurt even more so here,” I said as I twisted body to get him the anesthetic potion that would put him to sleep so I could work on his wound without it becoming a wrenchingly painful gut.

As I handed him the potion at the end of my sentence he just stared at it before twisting to the side.

“I’ll make do without it,” He heaved out.

“Drinking the potion won't make you weak, it'll make you wise to do so,” I said trying to hopefully coax him.

“It’s my choice to not drink, just like how it was my choice to stand in between the arrow and it’s target.” He grumbled.

Sighing I muttered a quick “okay” and “here it comes” as I began stitching him up. More blood left his wound as I pierced his flesh over and over again to close it. In twenty minutes the stitching had stopped and Fjall’s head was still facing away from me.

“The stitching is done but I am just going to clean the wound a bit more.” I said as I stepped away from his figure to get more cloth to clean him up.

“Is that necessary?” He asked as his face turned to look at the ceiling above him.

“Yes, the tip of the arrow was rusted from water and sun damage, so cleaning the wound as frequently as possible and keeping it clean is the priority for two weeks until we remove the stitches.” I spoke as I softly cleaned his wounds.

Making sure to not irritate the skin underneath. As the blood and the impurities were wiped away Fjall just nodded to my words. Silence was heavy between us, as the only thing you could hear were the chattering coming down the hall but that itself was so quiet that it got lost in the walls of the castle.

“So you didn’t answer my question from before,” I spoke as I started to gather a longer gauze-like cloth to wrap around his stomach with other herbs inside for him to heal.

“What question?” He asked me as he continued to look up to the ceiling.

“Do you make them scream in pain or pleasure?” I asked him mindlessly as I placed the herbs inside the long off-white cloth.

“Are you losing your mind Mage?” He questioned me as he looked at me.

“What?” I asked as I looked up at him from my work.

“I already answered you sheep head,” He said as he looked at me with one eyebrow quirked and an amused smirk on his face.

“Oh yeah you did,” I said as realisation hit me.

“I believe you’re the one who owes me an answer?” He said with a smug smile gracing his face as his beautiful eyes stared at my face.

“I believe you’re right,” I said as I inspected the bandage in front of me. Making sure it was full of important and crucial herbs for him to heal properly.

“So?” He edged on as he noticed I wasn't answering him.

“I could give you the answer orrrrr,” I drawled out my word, waiting for him to question me.

“Or what?” He asked with an interested look on his face.

“I could make you work for it.” I said as I lifted the bandage carefully gesturing to it.

“I prefer to work my rewards anyways,” He said as his hands lifted his body enough for me to wrap the bandage around his waist.

His toned muscle was infused with green veins that were a contrast to the tan skin he had earned from training in the sun for countless hours for countless days. He smelled like herbs but also sweat. His scent to my nose was like entering a bakery: sweet and welcoming.

“I am going to make the bandage a bit tight but not too much for it to be uncomfortable for you to move around.” I warned him as I began to tighten the bandgade a bit more, he gave a nod and waited patiently for me to finish up on him.

“So may I have my reward,” He asked with a tilt of his head and a certain excitement in his voice.

“I prefer…,” I said as I came close to his face to wipe some dirt away. His eyes were at the same level as mine, except mine were a bit more half lidded than his. His breath hit my face like a soft summer breeze as his mouth perked open a bit.

“Say it already Mage,” He groaned out in thick annoyness. I stepped away from him, letting my back face him as I stood still. His gaze is still heavy and unforgettable on me.

“If you're so impatient, why don’t you find out yourself?” I said as I moved my hair to one side of my neck, looking at him with my peripheral sights. My neck was exposed. The lace that held up my shape and dress up, vulnerably displayed for him. I could hear him stand up from the cot.

“Fjall!” Screamed out a familiar voice of a woman.

The princess came in with Fjall’s father and some other dog clan members with them. As the princess spotted my figure I turned around, acting like I had not just offered myself to the man seating in the cot.

“Princess” I acknowledged her politely as I bowed a bit before looking at her.

“Is he alright?” She asked loud enough for everyone to stop their interaction with each other and look at me for an answer to the question on their mind.

“He's alright. It was just a flesh wound so his insides are alright. The only worry he has is infection on the outside but with the herbs I have wrapped him with he should be good. Although if he doesn't sweat a lot or works in grime for a few weeks, that will help him heal a lot faster.” I concluded.

“Thank you, you may leave now,” The princess said her words and I left. As much as I wanted to stay I knew I had to report to Balor. He was probably looking for me seeing as how it must have been an hour since the incident.

~~~Time skip~~~

The meeting with Balor was mundane. I gave him my findings from that morning, we discussed my calculations and then he sat me down and thanked me for saving his life. As a thank you he offered me a red silken dress to wear to the mage ball in the upcoming days.

He believed it matched my fire ruby necklace and earrings he had seen me wear on very few occasions. And the colour truly did match. Besides the dress I was also offered a lunch that was cut short for Balor because one of the assassins of today is a former Mage.

With nothing to do I headed back into the potions room and began brewing potions. Since more than normal injuries had occurred today I brewed potions the majority of the time from midday to high noon.

Seeing as the moon had been climbing up the night sky with its little companions shining brightly, I decided that I should pay a visit to Fjall. Obviously I wasn’t going to go wearing what I had been wearing the entire day. But I didn’t want to dress up too much. Fjall had an ego already and I didn’t want to feed into it.

So taking out a white silky evening dress with thin straps and slits on both sides of my legs would be perfect. The body jewelry that I wore everyday added the needed level of mystique and glamour to my simple dress.

As I caught my reflection on the mirror nearby I fell in love with how I looked. Deciding to add a bit of a sultry-ness to my simplicity I took a hair pin that was made of silver steel. I put my hair in a low bun, allowing loose strands to naturally frame my face in a seductive manner.

In a manner that looks as if I was fucked silly but I made an effort to look decent. I put some liquid charcoal goop on my lashes making them look thicker and darker. I took some dried beetroot powder and patted some into my cheeks lightly and a small touch of it on the eyelids and cheeks.

Not forgetting my lips I applied the same beetroot powder mixed with vaseline. Dabbing myself with some gooseberries and lilac scents I began walking out my living quarters.

The mages lived closer to the castle due to some superstitious belief, whilst the dog clan lived further away on the outskirts of the castle. Luckily it wouldn't be weird if I ran into him since as of now he was probably in the dining hall getting dinner. And since I had been busy with potions all day I knew I could get dinner later than the allotted time for dinner for mages. I knew that Fjall was supposed to stay on complete bed rest but I heard earlier from one of the healers that he stubbornly refused to stay still. So 50-50 chance I would run into Fjall but a 100 percent chance I would get dinner.

Walking the ten minute stroll to the dinning hall I was greeted by a few guards with flirtatious hellos and compliments about how I looked. Men are such interesting creatures. If I would’ve worn the most expensive of the silks with the most expensive jewelry I would have gotten a few stares and that’s it in contrast to the mindless horny look I have received from them in my ten minute stroll wearing the simplest of the gowns. I guess in reality a woman dresses in luxury because she can, not to impress a man. No to impress a man she masks her desire in a concoction of flirty stares and statements that mean two things at once.

Although everything about Fjall told me he would have reacted differently. As if he would have gotten one look at my delicious dress and he would know it was for him. How would he know? I wouldn't be so sure but at the same time I am not so coy when it comes to the long stares, the lingering of my presence behind him. In a way I know if this little situation of Fjall seeing me in over top luxury clothes were to come true I wouldn’t be walking strong for a week.

As I entered the bigger mess hall the guards were off duty and many members from the Dog clan were having a feast. I should have gathered since they did have a big fight today that they won. My existence was not acknowledged and something in me preferred that, at least until I knew where Fjall was or what was for dinner.

Unfortunately for me they were all out of meat so I was stuck eating baked buns with mashed potatoes, although a part of me was not complaining. And the unfortunate part did not end there as it turned out that Fjall was not a mess hall, which meant he was in his treatment room.

Usually I preferred to flirt than eat but due to circumstance and lack of food in my room I had to eat than flirt today. I quickly gulped down my food with a few hellos and how are you from guards who were praising me for what I did today to guards who were flirting with me. By guard I meant this one man named Jaskier.

He was a handsome man with a stubbled face, long nose, long hair, and a mouth that did not shut up. He gibbered about everything to anything as I quietly tried to finish my food. Laughing and nodding to his words as he droned on and on about whatever he was talking about. He was a nice person but he was not the man I was hoping to give my attention to. As I finished my food I handed my plate and napkin to the maid with a please and thank you as I stepped up from the table I was seating at.

“Before you go, I would like to show you something,” He said so softly and politely that I whispered okay as I followed him to the front of the mess hall.

“Ladies and gentleman, I wish to share with you the tale of a heart and its desires,” Jaskier spoke in confidence. His voice carried through the halls in a manner that seemed angelic and pure.

There once was a lad,

As true as he can be

Unfortunately for him his heart hid a deed,

The deed said he could never be complete,

Until he found the key that could set him free

Forged in the fires of passion,

Cooled in the rivers of compassion,

And hid in the mountains of attraction,

Will he find the key to complete him

As he completed his little serenade with a bow, everyone’s eyes were on him as he made his way towards.

“Will you be my key?” Jaskier asked as he breathed heavily.

“Jaskier, as darling as you are, the answer is no,” I said. A resounding sounds of ‘no’ and ‘aww’ was heard throughout the room.

Giving him a kiss on his cheek I left him in the hall to sulk and get drunk. Making a mental effort to myself to send over a potion in the morning to him that would aid in getting over hangovers.

As the empty halls passed me one by one, my feet carried me to the treatment room I last saw Fjall in. The hallways around the room were empty, shrouded in nothing but darkness. Except for the light coming from the middle of the room.

I stared into the room through the opening of the entrance. With the shelf of herbs and other necessities for a treatment in my view I couldn't see beyond that. Stepping into the room cautiously I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My throat felt parched from an intense and overwhelming feeling of fear and anxiety. Fear that the possible inside this room is a murderer from early. Anxiety from the thought of being alone in a room with Fjall.

“It’s rude to sneak on people Mage,” Spoke the gravelly voice of Fjall.

“It's called checking in on the wounded,” I said in a teasing tone as my entire body stepped forward into his line of sight. He wasn’t on the cot, instead he was on the ground.

One of his hands was placed in the centre of his body on the ground as it supported the weight of his entire body.

“Fjall! Stop that!” I screamed at him as I got closer to his figure.

He made a ‘tchk’ noise as he continued to be in the same pose. He began grunting a bit to signal something.

“Stop it Fjall, you’re going to open your stitches if you keep up with this madness.” I said to him as I got on my knees besides his figure closer to his left shoulder, the side of his stomach he was stabbed.

He still persisted with his stubbornness. Sighing deeply I began observing his form. He forego his shirt earlier in the day and it looked as if he cleaned himself up. His body that wasn't wrapped in white cloth showed taut hard muscles. Muscles that were ripe for tasting and in need of delicate care. The bandages that I had wrapped were replaced with another set of bandages, this one wrapping across his right shoulder. The wound part of the body just showed blood dripping…

Dripping blood…

“Fjall please stop, I know you don’t like being told what to do or how to do it, but please for the love of stars just listen to me, you're hurting yourself now for something that doesn’t even matter,” I stated in small whispers of concerned words.

His head that was looking straight ahead at the wall in front of him slowly turned to look at me. His greenish grey eyes were fueled with a setting emotion that I could only feel as rage. He stared deep into my eyes and I looked into them. Not knowing or understanding what was expected of me to do. He broke eye contact as he slowly got up and stood on his feet. Mimicking his movements I stood up and followed behind him.

“Fjall, I need to check on the stitches. Bleeding like that is too excessive to go unattended especially so early in the stage,” I spoke slowly from behind him as he ignored my words and grabbed a tunic to put on his naked upper body.

I touched his right shoulder blade. His hot skin against my cold fingers sent a jolt of pleasure through my nerves.

“Please Fjall, just let me look.” I pleaded with him.

His breathing had gotten strangely uneven as he stood still. His head lifted up towards the sky as if his whole being was possessed. Not truly understanding what was happening I let my fingers linger on his body as I walked to his front.

“Fjall,” I said softly as he ignored his name coming from my mouth as he continued laughing.

“Fjall,” I said again but this time a bit louder and again I received no reply.

At this point the bandage on Fjalls abdomen was soaking and dripping crimson liquid down to his feet in a puddle. His demeanor, the open wound, and the wave of rage that came off Fjall made me fear the worst: Possession. It was uncommon but it still occurred.

“FJALL!” I screamed at him, tears gracing my eyes as I feared the worst of the faith for the men in front of me. The tears blurring my eyes a bit and making me sniffle.

A swift brush of air I had felt before my back was pushed against the wall nearby, my stomach and chest pressed up against Fjall, and his huge left hands around my neck kept me in place.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do whore,” Spat Fjall. His anger showed with every word he chose to spat at me.

His eyes however had a hue of light white to them, I knew that he was under some sort of a rage spell that would last a few moments. Although these few moments he was blinded by rage sat off by anything. Or in this case some form of weird crush jealousy. I guess those perpetrators got to the dog clan in a different way than they had thought initially.

“Fjall I-...ahugh!” My words cut short with the feeling of Fjall pressing his hands harder against my throat. His fingers dug into the side of my neck, putting pressure on it that made me light headed. The tears that were blurry before were not dripping down my face.

“What? Having that joker Jaskier wrapped around your fingers isn't enough for a slut like you? Huh?” He spoke as his grip around my throat slowly and slowly began to tighten.

My hands gripped onto his fingers. Hoping, praying he doesn’t do anything drastic before I had a chance to clarify that obvious confusion at play here.

“I rejected him,” I breathed out as I stared up deep into the eyes of the man in front.

“Have some self respect whore, I know it’s hard for a cockloving slut to not lie but I still didn’t expect you to be lie-” His words were filled with amusement as he insulted me in such a derogatory way. His eyes held an emotion that paired perfectly with rage, it was lust.

“I’M NOT LYING ASSHOLE!” I screamed out as I let one of my hands let go of the hold around his hand before I punched him. The punch itself was lucky, as I had exerted little force but it landed right under his jaw.

His head slew to the side as his hands left my neck in a hurried effort to stabilise himself. Pushing him away from me I ran outside the treatment room. The hallways were beyond dark tonight. Even the moonlight was hidden behind clouds of darkness. No guards were in sight. As I was about to turn right and head towards my room, Fjall’s back appeared right in front.

Quickly turning on my heels I turned to the left and began heading deeper into the castle. The area had a network of hallways that connected certain parts of the castle to another part. Thinking on my feet I decided to run towards the throne room. For sure there would be guards there at all times no matter what.

My legs fell heavily against the cold stone floors of the castle, its noise echoing against the barren walls as I passed them. My breath heavy as my eyes tried to brave away any weeping tears of fear that rose. With the injury sustained by Fjall he shouldn’t have been running as fast as he could, but he was. He kept on catching up with me but the last minute turns I would do allowed me to escape his grasp.

As I saw the familiar hallways that led to the throne room I turned back around to see where Fjall was. Only to discover he was no longer there. Not knowing what to do I slowed down my pace to be more cautious but I didn’t stop moving.

A small shuffle sounded to my right, making my neck snap towards the sound as my movements halted. My eyes squinted to see clearly in the dark but no movements were made obvious.

Before I could face towards the throne room my mouth was covered by a hand. The palms of the hands were calloused against my nose and my mouth.

“Calm down Mage,” said a hoarse voice of Fjall from behind me. The hand on my face tight whilst his grip around my belly helped him effortlessly to move me from the corridor to the storage room behind us.

Hearing his voice calmed my senses as I knew who my “assailant” was, but it still struck me with fear. He did try to choke me to death a few minutes ago so fear was justified. But the calmness of knowing it was him was an emotion that I couldn’t justify in the flurry of adrenaline I was experiencing right now.

Fearing the worst I let him manouvere my body into a bridal position as he walked us into the storage room. No scream left my lips only gasps of air that were only heard by us due to the eerie quietness of the room. My back was pressed hard against his front as he pushed forward towards the edge of the window on the further side of the room. The moonlight was visible through the dust that stayed stagnant in the room.

“Turn the fuck around Mage,” Commanded Fjall. He stood three feet away from me, away from the moonlight. He stayed still in the shadows, hiding his body, hiding himself.

Slowly turning around I felt my tears make their way to my face. The part of my face that was smothered by him burned as my tears escaped my eyes. More tears made their way down my face as I turned to look at Fjall catching a glimpse of how I looked at the mirror right next to him.

My long hair disheveled and the pin bent in a weird position. The thin straps of my dress dropped down my shoulders, letting my shoulder glow in the light of the moon. My face was tinted red and glossed in the moonlight from my tears.

Even after turning to face him I did look him in the eye or at his figure. I kept my face down as I sniffled here and there trying not to make a sound that would make him mad.

“Why aren’t you looking at me Mage?” Asked Fjall as he slowly began coming closer to me.

“I- I- uh - I,” my mind felt like a blaze of mush as anxiety rushed over me again. Tears began forming in my eyes so I closed it shut. Slowly shuffling back as I knew Fjall was stalking towards me.

“Please Fjall, don’t hurt me,” I whispered out in small sobs as I felt pathetic. Pathetic for begging for my life.

As a mage hand to hand combat wasn’t required nor was it taught. I was okay at archery because it was my hobby. The man in front broke peoples bones as his pastime. In my eyes he was a barbarian. He was unpredictable. I always knew his true form, the entire dog clan's true form but that never stopped me from seeking him out. Maybe except now.

“Please Fjall, please don’t hurt me, just fight whatever rage you're feeling” I whispered again as my chest was sobbing up and down as I felt his presence in front of me.

His right hands snaked around my waist as he pulled my body into his. Turning my head to the side I sobbed as quietly as I could as fresh tears made their self’s down my shirt and slid down my neck into my chest. Soaking a bit of the white material around the top of my chest, letting the material cling to my breast.

His left hand caressed my face in a soothing manner that just felt eerie to me. Making me shut my eyes even more. His breath smelt like herbs as he exhaled out on to my face after taking a long sniff of my neck. His actions were barbaric and primal making me squirm a bit at how different it felt.

Everything he did made one thing obvious to me. His focus is me. Nothing else, just me. Either it be with anger, sadness, or obsession the focus would be me. As much as he pressed me hard against him, Fjall’s hand on my face was soft. His thumb ran over my features delicately. He traced my cheeks softly, then the shape of my lips before he gingerly touched my eyes.

“Open your eyes Mage,” Softly commanded Fjall as he stopped tracing features and held my face lightly in his palm, “..please,” he begged.

The sincerity I felt from how Fjall was talking and touching me was uncharacteristic to what he had done in just a few moments. Which meant the spell had worn off. But my survival skills had still made me weary of the man in front of me.

Slowly I opened my eyes as I continued looking to the side. Not having the courage to look him directly in the eyes, fearing what I might see. Although Fjall wasn’t satisfied with my actions.

He slowly turned my head to face him completely but my eyes still didn't move from their spot on the stone floor.

“I want to see those pretty eyes of your Mage,” Fjall’s sudden confession made my eyes wide as I slowly began to move my eyes to meet his gaze.

His green grey eyes were smoldering, an emotion that felt familiar but foreign. His eyes held mine, captivating in a maniacal exchange of emotions. My throat felt parched from all the sudden rush of emotions as I gulped down a small mouthful of whatever liquid naturally secreted from my mouth.

“Look at you Mage,” Whispered Fjall quietly as his face came closer to mine, making my eyes widen even more as I pushed myself back into the wall. Trying to embarrassingly cower away from him.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re messed up because of me,” He spoke as he pressed his forehead to mine.

“Fjall,” I whimpered his name as I tried to lightly push him off me by moving the hands that were trapped in between mine and his body against his body.

As his name left my lips a deep groan escaped his throat as he lowered his head to come to my eye level.

“I love it when you say my name Mage,” hummed out Fjall as his hand around my waist pulled me harder into him making me yelp out at his sudden harsh movements.

“Fjall stop please, what are you doing, what do you want from me?” I finally asked out quietly as I squirmed in his grasp trying to move away from him.

“Is it not obvious to you Mage?” Fjall asked as he stood straight in his height, towering over me and shielding me from seeing anything but him.

“What’s not obvious to me?” I asked him in a whisper as I looked up at him through my tear soaked lashes.

“I want you, Mage.” He confessed again for the second time today. His words made my eyes flutter in disbelief and my cheeks redden.

“I want to smell you Mage. I want to hold you in my arms away from anyone else. I want to feel your skin on mine all the time. I want you to look at me and only me. I want you Mage,” He spoke as his eyes bore so deep into my eyes I felt as if he could see my soul. The very soul that felt happiness surge within itself. As I could feel myself become bashful at the situation at hand, confusion shrouded my mind. Why was he choking me like a dummy just a few minutes ago?

“...But that’s not what you want, is it Mage? You’d prefer to be that Jester Jaskier little Mage, huh? That’s why you kissed him, in front of everyone. Let him know, everyone knows, me know, that you're his.” He spat out every word with anger as his hold on my face and waist became harsher and tighter.

“Fjall no, he- he asked me but I said no, I promise, I kissed him like a friend” I squeaked out trying to convince him as I squirmed smartly trying to manouvere a way out of his harsh hold.

Instead he softened his hold a bit as he brought his head down to me with a derisive chuckle he halted right in front of my face.

“And how did you kiss him like a friend Mage?” Fjall asked with a tilt of his head.

“What?” I questioned not understanding what he meant.

“Kiss me how you kissed that jester.” He stated plainly with a tilt of his face to show where he wanted me to kiss him.

Nodding a yes my lips parted slightly as I made my way to his left lower stubble. The prick from his rough shaven hair was a contrast to my soft lips. As I kissed his face a squelching sound emitted from the action making my face turn red. The sound itself sounded so lewd that I knew I didn’t kiss Jaskier like this.

“Did you make that noise with him also?” He asked with a smirk as he looked at me. I nodded a no very slowly.

“Use your words Mage,” Sighed out Fjall.

“No it wasn’t,” I said softly to him as I still looked at him wide eyed and red cheeks.

“Then do it again,” He stated plainly through gritted teeth.

“O-Okay,” I said as I nodded a yes.

I moved my face closer to the spot I kissed him before, and the sound was made as I kissed him.

“Is that how you kissed him?” He asked again, being satisfied with my reaction as the noise still came from before.

“N-no, I don’t know why or how that noise is being made,” I tried to explain and defend myself.

“You really don’t know why?” He asks as he lets me ponder for a moment to give him an answer.

“Maybe because you’re not a friend to me,” I spoke as I lowered my gaze away from him but only for a moment as he brought my face closer to his.

He lowered his mouth to mine and I knew he was going to kiss. He didn’t move for a while as he inspected my face. My lips were trembling in anticipation trying to know what he would taste like. To know how good of a kisser he was. Yes his actions were confusing and rough, yes he did try to choke me to death but the heavens knew that right now in this moment I wanted to feel his lip on mine. To feel if he is slow and soft or hard rough with his kiss.

“Fjall, please…” I whimpered out as I looked him in the eyes, “....please kiss me.”

With a smile on his face he brought his lips to mine and captured my mouth in a slow and soft kiss. As if he was testing the waters when he sucked on the bottom of my lips before I opened a bit for him to push his tongue into my mouth. His tongue caressed the inside of my cheeks in a sensual manner making me emit a moan from how good it felt. His hands left my face and traced their way down my back and onto the exposed flesh of my thighs. He caressed my thighs while the other hand was still around my waist.

Feeling annoyed at the space between us, I wrapped my hands around his shoulders and let my body press against him. As Fjall slowly began to rise up to his true height I would go on my tippy toes to continue kissing him.

“Eager little Mage aren’t you,” He spoke as he broke apart the kiss to come to his full height.

“Fjall,” I said his name in a small whisper as a contrast to me whimpering, “why did you try to kill me a few minutes ago?” I asked a very out of place but reasonable question.

He looked at me for a moment, contemplating how to respond before his ear twitched a bit and he sighed as removed the hand around my waist and ran it through his bald head.

“One of the healer’s younger apprentices gave me a potion that made me only see the face of someone I was furious at, someone I wanted to kill so they could feel my wrath,” He explained as he his hand that left my waist came back to my face, “When I drank the potion I didn't feel like killing so I left to go to the mess hall to get something to eat, but there I saw Jaskier with you and it made my blood boil. How he looked at you, how you looked at him, how he sang for you and how you kissed him. So when you came to me afterwards all I saw was jaskier until you kicked me,” He said the last sentence as he traced over his fingerprints that were lightly shown on my skin.

“I’m sorry, skin like yours will never be touched by hate only love, I promise you that Mage,” he said as he caressed my skin lightly with care and comfort.

“Who’s love?” I asked testing what he could be insinuating, although as his eyes met mine I could feel myself turning red at the stupid question I just asked him.

Logically he wouldn’t be in love with me. Not because of how I look or act or my status. No if I were to say how could he love me for how I looked I would be stupid, as I look like an epitome of lust and love if I would want to. The concept instead is we barely spent time or moments together. We never spoke or touched each other. The basic foundation to establish a relationship of love had never occurred between us two until today. Sexually a night would make sense but love, that does not.

Love was not a word that I wanted to play with. I refused to say those words just for the sake of a night of carnal pleasures. Even with Fjall as handsome, rugged, and the man I would prefer to take to bed with me, this was a line my heart, body, and mind refused to cross.

“Mine, who else's?” Fjall answered coyly as he lowered his head to kiss me again. A kiss I hesitantly accepted which he knew. So he broke the kiss to make one thing clear to me.

“You don’t have to accept it, just feel it for me. You don’t have to do anything tonight you don’t wish for, my Mage,” Fjall spoke as he took both my hands into his palms as he kissed my knuckles at the end of his little declaration.

“I want to do everything you want tonight Fjall,” I replied back as I broke our hand contact to bring down his face to mine as I enveloped him in a kiss. The kiss was just like before sucking lips and exploring tongues.

Feeling a bit of courage through my veins from the adrenaline, I teasingly and lightly bit into Fjalls lips as I moved my body to press against his frame. The noise he made was like a groan and just as I did my little stunt his hands were on the naked flesh on the back of my thighs. His hands strained against my weight as he picked me up in one attempt and pressed me against the wall behind us. The moonlight showed us every little detail of each other's body.

Our eyes were black from the desire to feel the person we saw in front of us. Our mouths wet from the kiss we still haven’t broken from. Our body tangled with one another as we truly understood the extent of the desire we felt in this moment.

As our kiss grew our breath became heavy. The only focus we had was each other, lost in the feeling of our body pressed against one another. We didn’t hear the voice of the guard until he asked loudly “Who’s there?”.

Freezing I break up from our kiss not truly wanting to be caught in such a compromising position with Fjall. I tried pushing Fjall away and attempted to look through his shoulders to see where the owner of the voice was. Unfortunately my scared look was entertaining for Fjall.

“Do you trust me, Mage?” He questioned simply.

“Of Course I do Fjall,” I replied softly as I stared into his eyes.

With that he picked me up from my position against the wall and planted me on his lap as he sat down by the window seat. I gasped a bit but before I could ask Fjall what he was doing he removed my hair pin to let my air fall down my back. He moved the hair away from my right shoulders and began kissing the open flesh there. Just small wet kisses that made my breathe heavier and a part of me wet with desire.

“He-hey youre not supposed to be in he-here!” Shouted the guard as he stuttered at the view in front of him.

“It’s okay, I’ll make sure she doesn’t do anything she isn’t supposed to, so why don’t you leave us alone,” Fjall spoke with a smirk on his face as his hands traced my back, “Unless you want to watch,” He offered as he quickly pinched my side making me let out a moan.

“Nah-no, I trust you,” The guard spoke before he left us, shuffling and tripping into things as he walked out the room.

“Did you really have to offer him?” I asked as I lifted my body a bit to angle myself better on his lap.

“It wasn't much of an offer, more like a warning,” chuckled out Fjall against my chest as he inhaled deeply the scent of me.

“I wouldn’t have minded him watching us,” I said with a smirk as I looked down on his face.

He looked up at me from burrowing his face into my breasts, a smirk plastered on his face as he licked his lips before saying the very words that could make a dignified woman a whore and a whore into a nun.

“You would have minded when I would be driving my hips against yours, touching your little belly button from the inside,” He illustrated so plainly as he loosened the strings of my dress making it loose on me.

“I don’t know Fjall, I think you would perform well when you know you have a competition,” I teased him shyly as I played with his ears.

“Why else do you think I was fighting Eredin?” He asked me rhetorically.

“Be careful Fjall, you're starting to sound like a jealous lover, and we’re not there yet,” I teased him as I ran my finger on the scar on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry Mage, this is just practice,” he cockily said as he mouth pressed the skin right above my chest that it counted as part of my breast from how erogenous his open mouth kisses felt. I could feel his chin slipping against my wet flesh there as he made his way up my neck. Each kiss didn’t falter in making my back arch more into him or to make my pussy wet and hot.

“Just because it’s practice I hope you don’t expect me to be okay if you're only going to put in half the energy,” I teasingly spoke as I began loosening my dress for him. His hands were still keeping me close to him. But as soon as I said those words he halted his movement.

“You’re right Mage,” He said as he looked up at me. His face was serious as he swiftly placed me on the cold concrete of the window seat.

“With my injury I am going to hold back but I know a few ways I wouldn’t have too,” He spoke with a grin as he got on his knees and held my legs in his hands.

He began kissing the flesh on my thighs as he moved upwards, my body began to react with a lewd arch of my back. I knew what he was going to do and a sudden feeling of arousal engulfed my nether regions.

My bundle of nerves swirling with the sweet sensation of lust as I felt myself secreting my familiar liquids of arousal. The only unfamiliar thing about this situation was how without a touch to my clit, I had grown slicken wet.

“I don't even have to touch you mage to know you’re already ready for me,” chuckled Fjall as his mouth slowly began making its way to the inside of my thighs, as I let out a sharp gasp at the feeling of his canine pressing against flesh.

He pulled me forward out of a sudden, making me gasp before giggling as I leaned down to kiss him as he placed my left leg on his shoulders while the other extended away from him. After the kiss he grabbed the slit on right leg and ripped it even more harshly.

“Fjall!” I screeched at him with wide eyes.

“Yes, Mage?” Fjall questioned back innocently as if he didn’t just do what he did.

“Fjall, that was my favourite dress, it made my ass look good and my tits looked fuller,” I complained to him as I furrowed my eyebrows as I explained the purpose of the dress.

“And my abs were a favourite part of my body because no one could ever leave a scar and live to tell the tale,” He spoke smugly as he tore the slit on my left leg.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“I thought we were bringing up pointless things that happened in the past,” He said as he came close to my face to engulf me in a kiss while he removed my dress from my body as I lifted my hands to help him.

“Pointless like tearing my favourite dress for access and then just taking it off?” I questioned him with a smile before kissing his lips, to stifle whatever smartass response he had for me.

His hands began to work itself on my body as my naked chest was welcomed with peppered kisses from Fjall. Each kiss was closer and closer to the sensitive areola of my right nipple. I could feel my nipples become erect at the thought of his tongue swirling or maybe even biting me.

A loud gasp leaves my lips as Fjall grabs my left breast and massages my nipple between his thumb and index finger. While his mouth slightly sucks on the nipple on the right side.

His body heat was lost on my body as the only sensation I could make sense of was Fjall. Fjall’s heavy breathes, Fjall’s rugged beard pressing against the sensitive areola, Fjall’s calloused hands gently resting on my breast as his fingers nimbly worked my body into heat.

“Please, don’t stop Fjall,” I gasped out as I could feel my arousal growing. My body is aching for him. For anything I can get from him.

“Don’t worry Mage, my goal is to make sure you’re a mess and we are nowhere near my intended goal,” Fjall spoke as he slowly stopped his actions on my breast and began moving downwards to my soaking cunt.

“What is this pretty Mage?” Fjall teased as both his hands were placed on either side of my hips, tracing the chains that set pretty on my waist. It kept the white silk linens covering my throbbing clit and wet cavity. He pressed the chain deeper into my skin making me draw in a deep shaky breath as I let it out in the same manner.

“The chains are one surprise Mage but this,” He spoke as his right traced the chain and came closer to my other soaking lips in between my thighs, his hands lightly ran over my clothed clit and down to the wet patch of accumulated arousal that I was oblivious to.

“...this wet patch is a much better surprise.” He stated as he began to work his right index finger on my clit as his mouth made its way to my thighs biting and sucking the flesh there tender. His breath was so close to a place that I was needy for attention but the finger that gently played around my clit, collecting the aroused secretion was enough to smother the want to cry for him.

I closed my eyes as I slid back against the wall behind me, my eyes focusing on the sight of Fjalls beard against my skin. It was harsh and warm like a juxtaposition. Its existence had guaranteed a deep carnal concupiscence feeling within my stomach that made my mind hazed and numbed at the sight of the beard.

The sensation of my clit being rubbed made me open my eyes as my mouth let out a loud gasp of air that I let out in a moan. One of my hands found his shoulder and rested there while the other was placed behind me to support my weight.

“Fjall just do something please, I am going crazy at this little antics of yours,” I cried out with a heavy pant as I began squirming in his grasp, my body ready to release but his undeserving hands were in the way.

Instead of responding to me or saying something he or even acknowledging I said something he continued his actions. His mouth that was on my right thigh has moved to the left thigh. He switched his hands so now his left hand was playing with my clit while his right hand held my waist in place. Besides my occasional whimpers and gasps the only other sound that could be heard were his lips sucking my flesh so wetly. The squelching and hot sounds of his mouth did not aid in my need to finally have a release.

His actions were teasing and in my hot blazed mind I couldn’t piece together what he was doing or why he was doing it. Until my brain said that one six letter word: EDGING. This man was edging me, and he was enjoying my reaction. He enjoyed how I submitted my control to him and became submissive. He probably enjoyed how needy I’ve become with such limited actions. And he most definitely probably enjoyed how much I begged for him with whimpers and gasps.

I didn't know what to do with this information so I stared at him, trying to figure out my next move as he continued his mind numbing actions. Looking at him I saw how his eyes were closed and that's when I heard it. His groaning sounds. And that's when I noticed how his hand on my waist had disappeared between his stomach.

Angling myself slightly I saw Fjalls hands palming his not so little friend underneath his clothes. At the sight in front of me I knew exactly what I wanted to do and I knew exactly how to do it.

In one swift motion I stood up carefully to not hurt Fjall but to stand right in front of him.

“Mage, what the hell are you doing?” He questioned with his words confused and his face looking angry.

Without saying a word I got on my knees in front of him. Even in this position he towered before me but for some reason there was no intimidation, only a sense of power as I held his gaze. I came forward towards his face, gasping his jaw with my right hand as I kissed him. His lips tangled with mine as our tongue explored the depths of our mouth. The other hand I took and placed it on his hard dick. As our kiss grew I massaged the clothes dick, slowly working on unveiling it from the loose trousers. As soon as they were free I broke apart from the kiss.

“Tell me that you don't want this and we won't do anything,” I whispered.

My hand that was on his jaw traced itself lightly to his lips and collected a mixture of our spit. The lubricant saliva from my thumb was placed on the top of his dick. As I marvelled at his hard non-flaccid cock, with one hand stroking him gently I slowly moved the lower half body back to create an arch. An arch that would give him a view of my ass while I suck the soul out of him.

Looking him in the eyes I moved my mouth closer to his cock, collecting the spit in my mouth that I placed on my tongue. Taking my tongue had already guaranteed a few strings of spit spilling down from the side as it made contact with the base of Fjalls cock. The white monster was probably 9 inches tall and as thick as 3 and half inches. It was embellished with veins of pink and green with a narrow head on top blushing pink and wet with precum.

My wet tongue lubricated his dick from the bottom to the top then top to bottom and so on until his dick was able to go down my throat with ease.

“Ahh- Fuck Mage, why are you making me feel so god forsaken good?” Groaned out Fjall as he leaned back on both his hands as his head rolled back when both my hands twisted the parts of him I couldn't put in my mouth as I sucked him.

His big length in my mouth was a foreign feeling, not because of the person but also because of the cock. His dick felt heavy on my tongue while his taste resembled rosemary.

Probably a herbal bath for his injury to stop infections.

“Stop,” He said to me as his face flushed red while I attempted to take more of him into my mouth. Stopping my actions I looked up at him through the few stray strands of hair on my face.

“Or, I could continue?” I teased him as I went back to taking more of him in my mouth. Wanting to test the boundaries my eye held his as I continued my lewd action. The sensation of him curving downwards in my mouth as if ready to enter my throat. This action had brought tears to my eyes while one of my hands twisted the base of his cock.

The other hand however was down in between my thighs. Tracing my wet panties as the feeling of my fingers was felt by my sensitive lips. The sensation I felt made my eyes roll back as a stifled sound left my mouth.

Fjalls hands went straight to my hair. His finger grasped my roots close to my scalp. He neither pushed me forward nor did he stop me. He allowed me to continue swallowing his cock as I touched myself. A sudden brush against my clit made my body jerk, letting his cock escape my mouth and slap itself on his toned stomach.

The actions made me giggle a bit but my giggle stopped as I looked at Fjalls expression. His face was hot and his eyes were focused on my hands between my legs. Before I could do anything Fjall jerked my head back with his hand, not so roughly but the sudden motion made me let out a yelp.

“Now I am going to make you beg for me to stop,” He spoke confidently before sweeping my mouth in a wet kiss. As I was deep throating the white strings of my saliva and his mucus was rubbed all over my mouth.

I knew he could taste himself on my mouth but he continued this kiss. His lips sucked on my bottom lip. His nose pressed against mine. My hands left their locations and placed themselves on his shoulder.

As Fjall broke away from the kiss, his mouth began leaving a trail of wet kisses down my body as he made his way to my pussy. He finally but slowly began taking off my soaking panties.

“Looking at how wet you are, I’d say your obsessed with me,” Fjall spoke as he used his fingers to slide through my wetness testing how wet I felt.

“I thought my presence when you would train already did that,” I tried to quip back with a smirk that quickly turned into a gasp as one of his fingers went deep inside of me.

His fingers were big but thick and as he began moving his fingers in and out, I could hear the wet squelching sound and so could he.

“You look just as you sound Mage,” taunted Fjall as he noticeable to my horny body increased his speed making my back arch a bit more, “...like a slut who can’t get enough of me,”

My breath left my body as his speed kept increasing. His hands were colliding against the flesh surrounding my wet pussy. The noise itself was as loud as my gasps of his name in a desperate chant to show how good he made me feel.

The pace he sat was enough for my craving body to feel the shudders of pleasure beginning to form deep within me. I tried to hold it in thinking that just maybe maybe Fjall would like for us to come together. But the more my pussy became tighter around him as a tell tale sign im close the faster his finger worked on me.

“Fjall I’m cumming!” I screamed as my squirt sprayed it's way to his shoulders and part of his chest. The liquid dripped down on him as an obscene substitute to his sweat.

Unfortunately for me my squirting orgasm wasnt enough for him to stop as he continued on the similar pace of not too slow but fast enough for another orgasm to form.

“OH Fuck Fjall, it's too much for…” my sentence cut short as another squirt like orgasm erupted my body making me squeal as I gasped for air. My eyes were streaming with tears as my body felt overstimulated.

“Now we are getting somewhere close to my intended goal,” Fjall spoke as he continued with his pace making my body involuntarily shift away from him. My eyes staring deep into his orbs that were filled with pride. Pride of making me whimper and scream in pleasure within a few minutes.

“Not so fast mage,” Fjall chuckled out as he pulled me towards him and turned me around in one swift motion.

“Fjall what are you doing…Oh fuck” My incomplete question was answered as one of Fjalls fingers went to my clit as the other went inside me. As his fingers pumped inside of me at the same pace as before, his finger on my clit began circling the engorged organ.

My hands found his chest that was without stitches as I slowly began to push him away. The feeling of Fjall becoming too much to my overstimulated body. However Fjall saw it as an opportunity to use my hand to pull me into his lap. My ass was in the air closer to him as he began playing with me again. He swooped my hair to the other side of my face as he made sure to hold eye contact with me. Every time I closed my eyes he would remove his hand from my clit and spank me.

Every time he would spank me he would soothe it over by kissing it and murmuring “good little mage” but only if I looked at him again. If I didn’t then he would spank me again and this time a bit harder.

If the souls around us thought I was loud before then by heavens the sounds I was now no match for the noises that escaped my delirious mind. I couldn’t stop the loud gasps that turned into moans in mere seconds nor could I stop the third or the fourth squirting orgasm that left my body.

All I could do was beg him to stop just as he said he would make me do. By the end of his little play time, the ground below was wet and so were our bodies. Whether it be from sweat or my squirt only the heavens knew at this point. My eyes were glossed over from the tears that had left my eyes from every orgasm that Fjall forced out of my body.

“Don’t get too excited mage, I am still going to turn those gasps into screams,” Fjall said as I positioned myself on him. Straddling his figure as my head rested on his chest as I tried to adjust my breath.

“Fjall what?” I questioned him as I knew that I looked like in no shape to continue our endeavor whatsoever.

He chuckled at my bewildered look as he moved me off his lap making me pout at the lack of his presence on my body. As he stood up he offered me his hands to stand up. And just as I was about to come to my full height my legs or more specifically my thighs betrayed me. The usually strong limbs had been turned into jelly like limbs thanks to Fjall and I had almost fallen. If not for Fjalls quick hands.

He pulled me close to his brace as he kept me up.

“You really are starting to become my favourite thing to ruin Mage,” He spoke amusingly, obviously smug at my appearance and fucked out disheveled face.

“I'm not a thing,” I gasped out as I tried to steady myself.

“No but you are mine to ruin,” Fjall spoke as he took my lips into a quick kiss between his rough and chapped ones. He held me close to him with his hands around my waist, being mindful of stitches luckily for me and him.

“Hold on tight mage,” Fjall warned me for no reason that my mind could register until he picked me up bridal style. A small gasp left my mouth as I began laughing at the little situation. He carried me back to the window edge where we began our little adventure for tonight. As he was walking us back my mouth carried itself to the side of his neck as I began biting and kissing his stubbled flesh there. His groans were muffled but his gasps were evident to my ears.

He sat down on the edge and let me straddle him again.

“Just say you don’t want this and we don’t have to do this,” Fjall whispered as I paused from my little assault on his neck too look at him.

Holding his face in hands I kissed his lips lightly.

“I want this Fjall, I want you even more,” I whispered as I stared into his eyes.

He pulled my chin into a kiss as I lifted my body up, during this time he took his hardened cock and held it until I slowly sunk down on him.

His size in my mouth was different to his girth inside me in such an intimate way. I couldn’t help the tears that formed at the end of my eyes or the loud moan that escaped my mouth which mixed with his groans.

“Fjall,” I whispered out, as my overstimulated pussy swallowed his member whole with minimum resistance thanks to all the cum and squirt around it.

“Work for it mage,” Teased Fjall as he recited the words I said to him earlier in the day.

“Oh-Okay” I whispered in a whimpered tone as my body tried it's hardest to keep up a pace.

As I would come up and down my pace would waver as I could feel my body getting close to another orgasm.

“I…augh..I can’t Fjall,” I whimpered out as my body slouched on top of him, feeling all my energy drained out of me.

“Then allow me, my mage,” Fjall whispered out, kissing my forehead at the end of his sentence.

He stood up with me in his lap. Walking towards the barren wall that glistened in the moonlight. He placed both my legs on top of his shoulders as his cock was still buried deep inside me.

“Kiss me mage?” Asked Fjall, to which I responded with a kiss on his mouth. The kiss that was supposed to be light ended up becoming deeper as he slowly pushed himself in and out of me.

The kiss continued but Fjalls pace began to change. He went from a slow and sensual pace to strokes that felt deeper and a tad faster. However the tad faster was enough to make my body squirm as his cocks assault was about to warrant another orgasm from my body. And from the feeling of it, it would be the most intense one yet.

The feeling of this orgasm first began in my heart as the beat of my heart began to mimic Fjall’s heart rendering strokes. It then moved on to my eyes and began to blur with tears just as how my reality was beginning to fade away from me. The only one I felt was Fjall and his breathing on my neck which made my toe curl even more.

“Fjall, I’mmm cumming” were the last words my mind remembered saying before my body began to spasm uncontrollably. The tears in my ears were streaming down my face as I sobbed into Fjall’s shoulder from how intense the orgasm felt.

Closing my eyes I once again slumped on Fjall, exhaustion taking over me.

“Fjall, I’m tired,” was the last thing I said.

“Don’t worry Mage, you’re safe with me,” was the last thing I heard as my eyes shut close and I passed out in the embrace of Fjall.

After a few moments in sleeping state I could feel Fjall climbing stairs and the aroma of my room became evident. As he laid me in my bed I rose a bit. Only then did I see that he was wearing his trousers and I wore his tunic.

“Sleep with me?” I asked with a small smile on my face as I reached a hand out to him.

“Anything you wish for my mage,” He said as he closed my chamber doors and climbed into bed with me.

My head on his chest as one of my hands played with his fingers. While his other hand was on my waist. And my other hand was on the side of his face.

“Goodnight Fjall,” I whispered in a sleepy mumble manner.

“Goodnight my beautiful mage,” said Fjall as he kissed my forehead once more for the night.

#fjall stoneheart #the witcher #fjall stoneheart x reader #fjall stoneheart x you #fjall stoneheart x y/n #the dog clan #fjallraven #mage #the witcher: blood origin

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holydivers · 5 months

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talking about my tavs bc i can

ok so soleil is kinda boring bc my first character in an rpg always is <3 it's fine he's a circle of spores druid mephistopheles tiefling which was entirely a coincidence bc i had no clue what the plot was going in. he was very gung-ho about uniting everyone in the grove but mostly everyone hated him. oh well

soleil's a rather city-faring druid, he enjoys nature even amidst the bustle of the city and appreciates weird shit like random mold in alleyways and decay. he also likes hanging out in nature as well, and is a guild artisan cartographer. also brews a mean potion. his parents were probably merchants or something

he's the kind of guy who was sure that gale was scamming him by wanting magic items but gave him the items without any hesitation with the hope that gale would be moved by the goodness of his heart and reform his ways. he keeps letting villains go because he believes in their inherent capacity for goodness and it backfires most of the time. he KNOWS they're gonna betray him but he's ok with it. he's good but kinda chill in a weird way. like he's a little too comfortable with the whole shar-worshipping thing and his reaction to "hey let's take over this evil cult" is "dude...the logistics". it's probably fine. don't worry about it.

he tried to romance wyll but i failed the dice roll and didn't save scum. in-universe i justify this with the fact that wyll just wasn't in the party much so they didn't get super close. i also avoided romancing karlach bc i was waiting for the then-rumored new better ending for her which has since appeared. and then lae'zel completely unprompted was like "btw i will NOT fuck you" so i did not have the typical Horny Party experience with my first playthrough lmao

eventually he ended up romancing astarion. they are both incredibly annoying to everyone both together and apart.

the biggest tragedy is that i somehow completely missed the owlbear and her cub in his playthrough. rip he would've loved having an owlbear friend

xun'e, should've been seldarine drow but i fucked up and made her lolthsworn but w/e, archfey warlock

xun'e was a capable but unremarkable soldier from a lesser drow family. with little ambition, she made no moves to advance her station, only trying to keep her head down and survive. after a surface raid gone wrong, she ended as the only survivor...once she'd finished off the remainder of her wounded sisters-in-arms to prevent them from reporting her as she finally fled the underdark. she caught the attention of hyrsam, who became her patron, granting her abilities allowing her to live on the surface. mostly, she's gotten work doing odd jobs or working as a bodyguard.

xun'e is disciplined, straight-laced, and self-sufficient. she's kind but not particularly nice, with a sense of realism that keeps her from reckless feats of derring-do, and the willingness to make the hard decisions. people tend to find her intimidating, which she uses to her advantage, and most people don't realize just how much she's bluffing. has a bad tendency to overuse detect thoughts on others out of an overabundance of caution, though she's been making a point not to use the tadpole's abilities on her own party

unfortunately drow are so cartoonishly evil her backstory doesn't really have the emotional impact i want it to since drow backstabbing each other is just A Tuesday. it weighs on her though

though they helped with the goblin attack on the grove xun'e decided it was wise to avoid the grove, so the party ended up skirting around it and found karlach before wyll

before she ever came to the surface xun'e knew that people described the underdark as dark and quiet, and thought it was absurd - there was so much color, noise, light! but on the surface for the first time, she realized what a breadth of experience there was that she had no reference for, that she never could've imagined, beautiful even as it's painful and blinding. this is kind of how karlach makes her feel - like she couldn't have realized how emotionally repressed she was until she saw how utterly alive and exuberant karlach was. as soon as karlach exulted over her freedom after they defeated the false paladins, it was basically over for xun'e

wyll eventually showed up at camp hunting for karlach and nearly got his shit wrecked but things de-escalated and he ended up joining the party. between coming after karlach and the fact that he's so into the Daring Hero shtick xun'e was quite irritated with him at first, but eventually his competence spoke for itself and she grew to respect him more.

shadowheart's religious devotion reminds her of lolth worship and annoys her, as does lae'zel's, though she respects the latter more for her straightforwardness. she sees gale as pathetic and overly-emotional, but in a "well he's a man what do you expect" way. she views astarion as something like an annoying but sometimes amusing dog. honestly she respects barcus wroot more than most of her own actual party but they're growing on her. ("it's awful work. especially to me. especially if it's you. i'll fucking do it but christ alive")

karlach's fondness for everyone helps, and karlach makes her want to be a better person

sway by the heartless bastards is a song i associate with her (and witchy poo by the same band w/ karlach)

by contrast i think she's kind of an anchor for karlach - solid, patient, supportive, and adoring even if it's in a quieter way than karlach. also karlach calls her sunny :)

juniper. they/them. half-wood elf, hunter ranger, folk hero background

as a young adult, the small village where juniper lived was caught in the crossfires of a war between local lords. an upstart wizard was sent, ostensibly to enforce the extraction of taxes for the war effort, but more realistically just to get him out of the way. the wizard flexed his burgeoning enchanter abilities by terrorizing the locals, harassing people and seizing resources at his whims. juniper used their hunting skills to help provide game to feed the village, organizing the sharing of resources while avoiding the eyes of the intruding wizard. eventually they helped end the menace by being strategically "caught" smuggling torpor-poisoned wine which was seized.

juniper is reserved and analytical, but soft-hearted. they try to prepare for any contingency and hate being unprepared. they're incredibly wary of magic, especially anything that influences the mind or emotions. they enjoy helping others, but are used to their own small community and can have difficulty with crowds and strangers. they dislike the ambitious, the power-hungry, and the rich.

they were raised by their human father in a human village, with their elf mother having left when they were too young to remember, and still haven't really come to terms with their lifespan or elfiness

they immediately dislike gale and astarion, which gets worse once they find out their Big Secrets. gale eventually grows on them as they realize that he's generally good-natured, though they're quick to shut down his more grandiose wizard-talk. juniper is very wary of astarion, though he has a degree of sympathy after learning about his past.

juniper likes wyll at first, especially compared to the attitudes of the rest of his companions, as he isn't just talk and is clearly committed to helping people. they balk a bit learning that he's a warlock, and again when learning that he's the son of the duke, but see his goodness and is quickly determined to do what they can to thwart mizora.

they respect lae'zel's practicality, and hope to encourage her towards nurturing weakness rather than crushing it, but acknowledges that she's surprisingly tolerant despite all her talk. they enjoy telling her about life on faerun, and hearing about the astral plane

juniper failed their attempt to save shadowheart on the nautiloid, and it set them off on the wrong foot. juniper is really not a fan of the whole shar thing, and gives shadowheart a wide berth, though eventually they gain a camaraderie as it becomes apparent that her actions and feelings don't match her purported beliefs.

they like karlach, though she's a bit too high-energy for them.

they proooooooooobably will romance wyll. probably. we'll see!

#luke plays bg3 #bg3 ocs #oc sharing #oc: soleil #oc: xun'e #oc: juniper

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deadmomjokes · 1 year

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My brain’s tendency to go from an initial idea to something totally different and wildly off-the-rails of the initial scope and premise is both baffling and hilarious. And I swear, it happens every time I try to write something, outline or not.

Pulpy noir murder mystery one-shot but make it urban fantasy >>> dramatic irony laced howdunnit about the saving power of love as a deliberate action and breaking the cycle of apathy by choosing to care, ft double romantic subplots, Southern Gothic Horror but make it magical realism, elves as monstrous instead of ethereal, #acab; wait how did YOU become a main character, you little one-off exposition machine with a placeholder name? guess you need your own set of books now and oops I think I just created a Literary Universe

Chilling backstory of ruthless, manipulative villain from the above >>> Big Gay Tragedy, hero’s fall from grace wherein an angry asexual becomes a literal nightmare monster to save his marginalized people and his BonesMcCoy-knockoff boyfriend, functional commentary on how working within existing power structures to affect change frequently leaves the marginalized in a catch-22 of performative worthiness designed to maintain status quo for those benefiting from the current power dynamic; villain has evolved into tragic Anti-villain/Anti-hero, update initial project to reflect shift, GOSH DARN IT that’s another book we have to add at least

Three immortals hanging out in a cabin in the woods accidentally get found out and have to convince their discoverer not to turn them in to the government >>> depressed and compassion-fatigued immortal wakes up in the middle of his own autopsy, has to convince his coroner and himself both that life might be okay actually, complicated by the fact that he’s accidentally party to kidnapping said coroner, who is definitely having the Worst Day of Her Life but handling it surprisingly well for someone running on caffeine, spite, and the Hippocratic oath

Steampunk Sherlock Holmes but make it a magical realism fantasy roadtrip >>> ... actually that one is basically still the same nvm

Cars, but make it people >>> Oh hey turns out that’s a thing already and Cars is based on a 90s movie that’s based on an obscure book; who knew! anyway >>> anti-imperialist ecopunk Weird West middle-fantasy, once again about the choice to care for others over the convenience of neutrality and safety of apathy (not that I have some strongly held thematic opinions or anything)

Short story written to-market for a SFF magazine competition, maybe drop some allusions/analogs to current world events to make it *~Timely and Relatable~* (I really want to win this thing, I need money, I’m a shameless sellout) >>> Does the end really justify the means, or do the means determine the end? If saving one person means killing five more, is it worth it? If that one person could save ten more, would your answer change? Does that change who you thought you were? Is there ever a right answer to the question of who deserves to live? Is true pacifism even an option in a world where violence is also an option? Oh yeah and some contemporary fantasy I guess, just slap some pointy ears on those dudes or something

Basically what I’m saying is that sometimes your heart knows better than your brain, and you should never be afraid to play around and just Go For It because some of your best ideas may come from asking “What if” about 37 times in the course of a single outline point, and so what if it ends up totally different than your initial starting point, the joy is in the journey, right?

Also you never come up with a plot resolution as perfect as “dying girl tries to stab a demigod with a borrowed demon sword on behalf of an undead terrorist, demigod proceeds to pat her on the head, give her a shiny new powerup that may or may not be cursed, and scoop everyone up in a cup & dump them outside like an unwelcome but ultimately harmless spider”* on purpose, that stuff either comes to you in dreams or at 11pm on a weeknight while attempting a sleep-deprived writing challenge that forcibly shuts off your inhibitions.

Aka, let yourself be weird, it works out way better than you think.

*Yes that is a legitimate plot point I am using in one of my novels. I had agonized over how to solve the corner I’d written myself into for months before the “screw it, idc anymore” kicked in, whereupon this brilliant solution immediately asserted itself like I hadn’t brought myself to tears trying to work it out logically.

#writing #writeblr #one of these days i'll actually start posting snippets and get y'all interested in my nonsense #that way i have someone to yell at about it #the people living in my head need new brains to infest at some point #adventures in novel writing

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literaticat · 2 years

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When agents ask for magical realism is that in the general meaning (magical things happening in the real world) or the traditional meaning (magical things happening in the real world rooted in Latinx stories/mythology/post-colonialism)?

I think it could really go either way. Some agents certainly use the term to broadly mean "basically real world but with some fantastical / magical / folkloric thread."

Some agents would probably be (quite) annoyed by that broad use, and say that only works from Latin America and rooted in that tradition can be so characterized, such as works in the vein of Jorge Luis Borges / Gabriel García Marquez.

This is a topic of some debate in the field of literary criticism and scholarship. Hell, even the Wikipedia article can't decide. And basically every article I looked up for this cites Toni Morrison's BELOVED and Salman Rushdie's MIDNIGHT'S CHILDREN as works of magical realism... So... I am sure that agents fall all over the spectrum of What They Mean By That.

PERSONALLY (and this is just me!!!) -- I avoid it by trying never to say those two words together unless I am talking literature that has been designated as such specifically by like, people that are not myself. If I were giving a talk about 100 YEARS OF SOLITUDE, for example, I'd refer to it as Magical Realism. (Spoiler: I would never give a talk about that book, I haven't read it since high school! But like, IF I WAS! FOR SOME REASON!)

For usage in the broad sense I'd probably say something like "real world, but with a magical twist!" or "Contemporary laced with magic!" or some such. (This is because I used to use it in the broad sense and one time somebody yelled at me about it, and fair enough but like, I am not passionate or smart enough on the topic to want to have that kinda debate.) (Case in point: I could barely parse the Wikipedia article!)

TL;DR - I don't know, I'm sorry there is no one right answer here.

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bestwigoutlets · 3 months

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cartasdecienanos · 1 year

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1. Realismo Mágico y Geopoética

Estimado/a:

“Magical realism combines realism and the fantastic in such a way that magical elements grow organically out of the reality portrayed.” (Faris, 163) This is how Wendy Faris defines magical realism, the most notable literary technique used in “One Hundred Years of Solitude” and a widely celebrated literary tradition in Latin America. Furthermore, Faris argues that this tradition took root in the region and became so prolific in its contemporary fictive works because it was a subversive response to colonization. Through this technique, Latin American writers such as Gabriel Garcia Marquez, create works of resistance and postcolonialism through a process of “dismantling the imported code of realism…” and allowing a “..broader transcultural process to take place…” as Faris notes that European realism is a predecessor to this tradition. (164) Ultimately, this enables these regional works to establish their own identity and leave their own unique perspective and footprint in the world of literature. Additionally, Faris highlights five features of magical realism. They are as follows, along with some examples of this technique being used in the novel:

“An irreducible element of magic” that is “something we cannot explain according to the laws of the universe as we know them (Faris 167) – The ascension of Remedios La Bella is a definitive example of this. Marquez writes, “She had just finished saying it when Fernanda felt a delicate wind of light pull the sheets out of her hands and open them up wide. Amaranta felt a mysterious trembling in the lace on her petticoats and she tried to grasp the sheet so that she would not fall down at the instant in which Remedios the Beauty began to rise. Úrsula, almost blind at the time, was the only person who was sufficiently calm to identify the nature of that determined wind and she left the sheets to the mercy of the light as she watched Remedios the Beauty waving good-bye in the midst of the flapping sheets that rose up with her, abandoning with her the environment of beetles and dahlias and passing through the air with her as four o’clock in the afternoon came to an end, and they were lost forever with her in the upper atmosphere where not even the highest-flying birds of memory could reach her.” (236)

“Descriptions that detail a strong presence of the phenomenal world” or realistic and extensive descriptions that create a fictional world similar to the one we inhabit mixed in with magical events (Faris 169) – Marquez writes, “At that time Macondo was a village of twenty adobe houses, built on the bank of a river of clear water that ran along a bed of polished stones, which were white and enormous, like prehistoric eggs.” (1)

An intentional effect of creating doubt within the reader as they “may hesitate between two contradictory understandings of events” (Faris 171) – Melquiades and his evasion of death can be an example of this because many people thought he died. Then he died again by drowning but only some knew of his immortality and that he continued to live on in the workshop of the house advising the later generations of the Buendía family. Marquez writes, “Over the scandalized protests of Úrsula, who wept with more grief than she had had for her own father, José Arcadio Buendía was opposed to their burying him. “He is immortal,” he said, “and he himself revealed the formula of his resurrection.” He brought out the forgotten water pipe and put a kettle of mercury to boil next to the body, which little by little was filling with blue bubbles. Don Apolinar Moscote ventured to remind him that an unburied drowned man was a danger to public health. “None of that, because he’s alive,” was the answer of José Arcadio Buendía…” (72)

A “near merging of two realms or worlds” (Faris 172) – The realm of death and the living are intertwined in the novel. For example, the haunting of Prudencio Aguilar on the Buendía family after his death sets in motion the events of the novel, forcing Jose Arcadio and Ursula to move away and establish the village of Macondo. Prudencio then ends up looking for Jose Arcadio because he was lonely and spends time conversing with him Marquez writes, “It was Prudencio Aguilar. When he finally identified him, startled that the dead also aged, José Arcadio Buendía felt himself shaken by nostalgia. “Prudencio,” he exclaimed. “You’ve come from a long way off!” After many years of death the yearning for the living was so intense, the need for company so pressing, so terrifying the neatness of that other death which exists within death, that Prudencio Aguilar had ended up loving his worst enemy. He had spent a great deal of time looking for him. He asked the dead from Riohacha about him, the dead who came from the Upar Valley, those who came from the swamp, and no one could tell him because Macondo was a town that was unknown to the dead until Melquiades arrived and marked it with a small black dot on the motley maps of death.” (77)

A questioning of time, space and identity (Faris 173) – Jose Arcadio Buendía’s lament of it always being Monday is an example of this. Marquez writes “A few hours later, worn out by the vigil, he went into Aureliano’s workshop and asked him: “What day is today?” Aureliano told him that it was Tuesday. “I was thinking the same thing,” José Arcadio Buendía said, “but suddenly I realized that it’s still Monday, like yesterday. Look at the sky, look at the walls, look at the begonias. Today is Monday too.” Used to his manias, Aureliano paid no attention to him. On the next day, Wednesday, José Arcadio Buendía went back to the workshop. “This is a disaster,” he said. “Look at the air, listen to the buzzing of the sun, the same as yesterday and the day before. Today is Monday too.” (77)

Kenneth White estableció el Instituto Internacional de Geopoética en 1989 en un lugar llamado Francia. Afirmó que su razonamiento detrás de la creación de la geopoética fue porque la tierra estaba en peligro y que la poética más rica provenía del contacto con la tierra, "de un intento de leer las líneas del mundo". (White) La geopoética también cae dentro de la geocrítica más amplia, una idea estudiada por Bertrand Westphal. Afirmó que la geopoética intenta combinar la biosfera, la poesía y la poética de manera sistemática. (Westphal xi) Sin embargo, también lo critica diciendo que proporciona una mezcla de ideas y carece del marco teórico sistemático que aspiraba a proporcionar. Robert Tally también agrega su aporte sobre geocrítica. A principios de la década de 1990, creó esta idea para enfatizar el lugar y el mapeo en los estudios literarios. También admite que aunque él creó el término, muchos otros han hecho el trabajo de geocrítica antes que él. Por ejemplo, menciona el trabajo de Edward Said en Culture and Imperialism y el trabajo de Kristen Ross sobre Rimbaud en The Emergence of Social Space. (Tally 1) Sostiene que la geocrítica siempre debe permanecer flexible y, como tal, considera válida la visión de la geocrítica de Westphal, aunque difiere de la suya. (Tally 1) Sin embargo, ambos comparten la visión de que el objetivo de la geocrítica es que estos espacios literarios imaginarios deben ser explorados. En Geocriticism de Westphal, escribe que el geocriticismo "opera en algún lugar entre la geografía de lo real y la geografía de lo imaginario... dos geografías muy similares que pueden conducir a otras, que los críticos deberían tratar de explorar". (Tally 2) Por su parte, Tally dice que la geocrítica “explora, busca, sondea, indaga, lee y escribe un lugar; mira, escucha, toca, huele y saborea espacios”. (2)

Además, otro erudito llamado Eric Prieto propone que deberíamos enfatizar un lugar como una manifestación de la interacción de la conciencia y el mundo donde podemos aprender sobre la naturaleza del lugar del hombre en el orden natural. Tally resume la metodología de Prieto afirmando que es la interacción entre el texto y el mundo, la capacidad de la literatura no sólo para reflejar el mundo que nos rodea o incluso para dar forma a nuestra comprensión de él, sino también para influir en la historia de los lugares en una relación recíproca similar a un ciclo de retroalimentación positiva. (3) Usando esta definición, es fácil ver cómo se puede encontrar la geopoética en Cien Anos de Soledad. Acontecimientos históricos colombianos como los incluidos en la novela y exagerados. afirma Gabo. Así ha influido la historia en la literatura. Sin embargo, también ha ocurrido lo contrario, ya que muchas personas han tomado la versión de los hechos de Márquez como historia real. Por ejemplo, Eduardo Posado Carbo escribió “Very few have gone as far as Alvaro Tirado Mejía, whose Introducción a la historia económica de Colombia - in his section on the United Fruit Company- quotes at length Garcia Marquez’s description of some of the circumstances surrounding the strike in Macondo. Yet this is a popular text, widely read by Colombian students in secondary schools. Fiction here has become a major source for a historian.” (398)

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bonvoyagenoona · 3 years

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let’s say the boys secretly read BTS fanfics.

what do you think would be each member’s go-to trope(s) or AU(s) or kink(s) or whatever to read?

like, for example, maybe you think yoongi would actively seek for friends-to-lovers aus. or you think Jimin would actively seek for fantasy aus. or seokjin would actively seek for exes-to-lovers aus with unprotected sex in the tags. maybe you think hoseok would seek for racer aus.

and why do you think that?

Ooooh, I LOVE THIS! We already know Yoongi's written them, so they must have stumbled upon at least one or two. Thanks for the ask! Here's my take on the tropes, AUs, and kinks for each member. Included are some examples of BTS fics that come to mind, plus tags and links to check out!

Q: Namjoon's go-to fic trope / AU / kink? A: Strangers to Lovers / Slice of Life, especially Magical Realism AUs / Gods, Angels, Demons AU / Non-Linear Storytelling / S&M

Namjoon's literary expertise guides him into fics that are out of the ordinary. He likes the idea that people start off as strangers and go on some kind of exporation together, only to find that they want that bond to continue once their journey is over. And throughout that journey, they have some truly out-of-this-world experiences, whether through the bend of time and space, or in revelations of love. What he really loves are fics that play around with structure. He enjoys slice-of-life AUs in which he gets to learn something new. Especially when BDSM comes into play. He's so intrigued. Spanking, choking, collars, leather, lace. That dark kind of sensuality. Throw it into the mix. He wants to see what happens. He also likes non-linear storytelling, with non-human characters, especially ones who are exploring metaphysical aspects like love, or morality. A philosophical, curious fanfic reader, just like he is with everything else. (Examples: @whatifyoulivelikethat's Pause, Roomie's / @mochilatae's The Roommate: Namjoon, @purgatorywriter's Falling into Sin)

Q: Jin's go-to fic trope / AU / kink? A: PWP / Slice of Life / Ass, Breast, and Nipple Play

Jin revels in stories that help him get to where he wants to go 😉 If his ears are red when he's on his phone while he's waiting for water to boil, or when it's someone else's turn to drive, and you'll know he's reading something downright debaucherous. T&A, all day, every day. Give him that vivid, graphic, imagery. He wants to look, feel, grab, taste, pinch, thrust, come. Tell him exactly what angle. Exactly how loud. Double points if he gets to be the main character. Triple points if he's showing off his own skillset. Stories that smirk knowingly, the same way he does. But his secret? His faves -- the ones that earn likes, reblogs, or bookmarks in his anonymous collection -- are stories that have passion and heart, that have something sweet and meaningful behind their eyes. (Examples: @purplehearts1996's Truth or Dare, Trouble, and Sorry Daddy; @floralseokjin's Glazed and Dazed; @jamaisjoons' Good Girl)

Q: Yoongi's go-to fic trope / AU / kink? A: Slow Burn / Angst / Techie AUs, if that makes sense?, and Family Dynasty, Chaebol fics -- hear me out!! / Oral, obvs

First of all, there are countless fics that cover this, but Yoongi’s. Tongue. Technology. He loves reading about people giving and receiving oral. He judges people's dexterity and reactions and compares them to himself. He'll either read an oral scene and smirk at how much better he could do it, or enthusiastically take notes...

ANYWAY, MOVING ON BEFORE I GET COMPLETELY DERAILED -- though I give BTS examples of such fics, I feel like he wouldn't read fics about himself or the guys because it'd be too weird for him? He's into slow burn, angsty fics where things don't always end happily because, well, that's life. The kind of fics that initially grab his attention are stories that are techie in feel and theme. Think futuristic, hacker, android, robot, scientist, steampunky AUs. Or fics that involve some kind of technical aspect, where characters have a highly specialized skillset, and the story revolves around that skillset coming into play somehow. But! I think he also secretly likes reading dynasty / chaebol kinds of fics! This is solely based on the fact that he watched Sky Castle?? Which is apparently about a bunch of rich parents?? Trying to get their kinds into a prestigious university?? So I think what really gets Yoongi hooked is a dramatic, emotional soap opera that also has some kind of framing device, a task or event that brings people together, forcing them to accomplish or deal with something, with an added bonus if some technical aspect is involved. (Examples: @taestefully-in-luv‘s The Island, @reliablesmitten's Bona Fides, @sahmfanficbts's Promise Me, and I just gotta plug Hideaway because I’ve imagined him reading it ever since I learned about him watching Sky Castle)

Q: Hobi's go-to fic trope / AU / kink? A: Drabbles and Reactions / Any AU / Overstimulation

Hobi's so into his body, so rooted in the physical world, that he would really gravitate toward drabbles and reactions, those quick snippets like darts right to his heart before he's off to the next dance practice or rehearsal. The right oneshot can get him in the mood like the right song can, and the rest of the guys will know that he's been reading something particularly hot when he gets to practice and he turns it on at full wattage. He's into any character, any AU, any trope, any situation, but what really sends him over the edge is when there's a scene with overstimulation, a moment that dares you to push past your physical limits and rewards you with a feeling you never knew you could experience. (Examples: @blu-joons's entire imagines masterlist, Roomie / @mochilatae's and @purgatorywriter's #micro drabbles and general drabble battles, @xjoonchildx's Dinner & Dessert as well as Close Call from the Guarded series, @btsqualityy's BTS Kink Series: Denial and Overstimulation, @hazzapapi's dirty bts reactions)

Q: Jimin go-to fic trope / AU / kink? A: Friends to Lovers / Social Media AUs / Praise

Surprise, surprise, the supposed gossip loves a SMAU! He's all about the messy drama. He loves knowing everybody's point of view, getting everyone's reactions in real-time, feeling fully immersed in the world and part of the conversation. He loves judging how people react, to the point where he's almost screaming at his phone screen when someone does something ridiculous. When he gets an appetite for the smut, though, he's all about a praise kink. Based on literally every Run ep, he loves compliments, hearing how good he is, how good he makes you feel. Maybe that's really why, whatever he reads, he's always in such a great mood afterwards. (Examples: basically all of @kimnjss's SMAUs, esp Cyberslut, @burningupp's Remember Me, @sopebubbles' Bulletproof Heart, and @btsrunmylife‘s What U Need)

Q: Taehyung's go-to fic trope / AU / kink? A: Yandere / Mafia and Rich Boy AUs in which he's the STAR! / Huge (Massive) Cock Kink

Taehyung is as much an actor as he is a musician, so when he's not working on a show, and he's got some downtime in the green room or on a flight, he's reading fics to imagine himself as the main character in his own fics. Whenever I think of Tae reading, I think of him looking for an escape, versions of him that he doesn't always get to show but that he enjoys playing around with. So he leans hard into the obsessive, yandere, dominant side of things, with an air of sultriness and danger. And obviously, he loves getting to read about all the kinds of crazy ways he makes you beg for him, scream for him, with his various endowments 😉 (Examples: Roomie / @mochilatae's Sticky Fingers, @flowesona’s Ultimatum).

Q: Jungkook's go-to fic trope / AU / kink? A: Fantasy / Gamers / every kink in the book, so long as there's some kind of Fluff and Romance along with his Smut lol

Jungkook's way into fanfic could be the gamer world, which would extend to fantasy. His love for gaming, anime, and his appreciation for cinematography, would hyper-fuel his imagination at all the incredibly creative fic worlds out there. He doesn't seem like the type to naturally have his head in the clouds, so he'd be enraptured at all the detail that writers put into these universes. He'd enjoy stories in any AU that talk about things from a gamer's perspective, but I think he'd also enjoy stories where he is IN video games, living out different kinds of adventures and exploring different worlds. Also, given that he thinks he'll supposedly hear a bell when he meets The One, he no doubt appreciates sweet, romantic stories that contain more erotica than straight smut. But note that even with this whimsy, I still believe Jungkook is 100% a dom lol. (Examples: @btsrecmylife's Into the Safe Zone, @polyjoon's Sonder, which is a delightfully creative, absolutely magical Jinkook story that blew me away because Jungkook is an NPC!)

More Important Questions

#bangtan #bts #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts ff #bts drabble #bts drabbles #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts x you #important questions #asks #your asks #anon #i loved this question!#what do y'all think?

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encrucijada · 2 years

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DISASTERS TO SLEEP THROUGH by ester cuervos

✶ genre: low fantasy, cosmic horror maybe?? ✶ category: adult ✶ pov: first person referral (marilú as “i”, cruz as “you”) ✶ inspired entirely by this, cartoon saloon’s song of the sea but make it dark and gritty??, also taking inspiration from over the garden wall for the tone, unhinged women all around, set in 1986 just because, let us ignore the technicalities of running a lighthouse, i think this is magical realism but i’m unsure ✶ cw: thalassophobia, body horror, emotional manipulation, mental illness ✶ themes: loneliness, family, fear of the unknown, co-existing with the unknown ✶ tone: eerie, isolated, apprehensive, cutting, blue hour

a b o u t : marilú is a lighthouse keeper, has been for almost a decade now. she could count the people she talks to with one hand, one of those being her older sister galatea. the only consistent company she’s had are her dreams and the creatures of the ocean, shadows under the water, sirens on the rocks. when dealing with her divorce, galatea leaves her daughter cruz with marilú until the matter is resolved. to spare cruz from getting hurt or scared, marilú tries to keep her asleep until galatea comes back.

c h a r a c t e r s :

✶ marilú. a nonbinary aro/ace because i like to live vicariously through my ocs. spends more time with creatures than humans so she has lost all her communication and social skills. “do as i say not as i do.” weird girls simply grow to be weird adults. good intentions but bad execution.

✶ galatea. voted less likely to get caught committing a crime. energy of a sophisticated lady wearing a wide-rim hat tied with lace under her chin, having lunch on a balcony in the mediterranean. suffering from older daughter syndrome. gaslight gatekeep girlboss.

✶ cruz. hard of hearing (wears hearing aids). inspired by lyra silvertongue from his dark materials. bratty and feral the way only little girls manage to be. more like her aunt than she apparently realises. hasn’t had a near death experience yet so feels invincible.

aesthetic: stark white lighthouse on a rocky island, a dark blue ocean and a grey sky, houses so close to the water they get touched by the waves, flickering light bulbs, raindrops on windows refracting light, water so cold it numbs your hands when you wash them, charcoal drawings that make no sense, old music boxes, old plush toys with not nearly enough stuffing, something scurrying within the walls, grainy shows on a box television set, the chill of blue hour, the feeling of minuscule insignificance, a beach of rocks and grey-brown sand, phone static cutting through words, cheap plastic signs of corner stores and restaurants lit from within, driving along a long bridge over the water, a massive figure from the ocean depth, the crushing feeling of loneliness, so many thoughts you can’t breathe

playlist: before we drift away / nothing but thieves ; doing the right thing / daughter ; deep water / american authors ; the lighthouse / halsey ; hiding in the blue / thefatrat ft. riell ; my mother told me / nati dredd ; deep end / ruelle ; arsonist’s lullabye / hozier ; made of stone / daughter ; we must be killers / mikky ekko ; bedtime / annie eve ; sleep / the last bison ; shallows / daughter ; city lights / the hollow man ; black water / of monsters and men ; sirens / fleurie ; you / keaton henson ; neon brother / nothing but thieves ; winter / daughter ; home / daughter ; the weight / amber run ; the ghost on the shore / lord huron ; the unwanted animal / the amazing devil ;

#writeblr #am writing #wip intro #( wip ) dtst #pia.docx

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greyskyflowers · 2 years

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Parts of a fic I'll never finish:

A bunch of scenes from a fic I probably won't finish but thought I'd share anyway in case it inspires someone :) Breaks between scenes are indicated by ~~. This fic made it to rough draft stage only so please ignore any mistakes.

Pairing: MarcoAce ft hints of Lawlu and Zosan

Reincarnation/magical realism/modern AU

Ace inherits an old house on the coast from Shanks. The house is a mess and full of strange things but he has a great time fixing it up.

Ace has rarely felt as lost as he does standing in front of his new home.

It was liveable though and that's all that matters. It's with a strong mix of excitement and dread that he opens the door.

Dust bellows out and the shadows peek around the corners to see who's visiting. The light in the kitchen is on but when he goes in to investigate the room is dark and the bulb broken. The wallpaper reachs out and tugs gently at his hair when he walks past.

He sweeps the shadows back to their corners, now clean enough for them to stay in.

He takes down the old lace curtains and goes to soak them in water, hoping he might be able to save some of them. They're hard with age and grey with dust but they're beautifully made and look to have been snow white at one point.

He cleans all the cabinets and doors, sweeping out the bad and old, opening the windows to call in the good.

The day tumbles in as sunlight on floor that has been in the dark for years. Spiders tiptoe over the floor to see where they can hang their own lacey and silky webs.

He finds some old wood by the fireplace in the main room and decides that until he gets the heating working again, this will work fine. The wood catches easily, incredibly dry and old as it is. It burns blue green for a moment before fading to the normal red yellow, the flames cast shadows that look like feathers on the walls.

He shakes out the old welcome mat on the front porch and leaves an iron coin under it when he sets it back down. He keeps the door open behind him.

Each room he enteres for the first time is given a soft greeting and the windows propped open.

He's painting one of the ground floor bedrooms when someone knocks at the door. He's right in the middle of doing the small work around the window though so he debates ignoring it.

Ace feels his breath catch when he looked at it. It was stunning.

"I didn't even know that they came in this color."

Marco uses the hem of his shirt to dry it off.

"The ocean does strange things sometimes. Red pearls hardly seem that odd when you think about it."

He looks at Ace from the corner of his eye and holds out his hand to drop the pearl into the younger man's hand. It falls to his palm like a drop of blood.

"You should keep it. Maybe if we find enough you can make a necklace."

Ace rolls the red pearl around between his finger, it looks like glass in the light and is surprisingly heavy.

"You think I could pull up a whole necklace of these?" He means it as a joke but Marco doesn't take it that way.

"Yes." He says without hesitant.

"Oh."

Ace lets the silence hang between them. He feels like he missed something but isn't sure what it was.

His toes sink into the sand and the water throws foam at his ankles. It's cold and grey today.

"Are you cold?" Marco seems surprised.

"Yeah. I get cold easy, Luffy always made fun of me for it when we were younger. He'd be running around bare chested and in shorts all year around and I'd start bundling up early fall."

"That's funny. You seem more like the type to be warm all the time."

Ace grins. "Are you saying I'm hot?"

Marco laughs and the shoreline doesn't seem as colorless as it had earlier.

Zoro with his thrift shop gold earrings and dyed green hair that only he could pull off. Always half a step behind his brother.

Usopp has his thick curls piled on top of his head in a messy bun and is telling a story about the time he saved someone from drowning to anyone close enough to listen.

Chopper, who graduated high school and then college so young but so smart. Losing his way before managing to find a place with Luffy. Every part of him glows in shades of brown and gold in the afternoon sun.

Luffy has the strawhat their godfather had given him when he was younger hanging from his neck. The man was a menace and his wife was the only thing that could keep him in line besides his best friend, Benn. His hair looks like ink in the sun and his shoulders are broader than last time Ace had seen him.