#ceramic cap for teeth

[shenu249]

The Lowest Metal Ceramic Teeth Cap Price

A tooth cap placed to cover the weak tooth or severely discolored teeth restores its shape, size, and strength. Dr. Garg’s Multispeciality Dental Center in Delhi offers the lowest prices of metal-ceramic teeth caps with the surety of a world-class dental treatment facility.

[drgarg-dental-clinic-delhi]

The Lowest Metal Ceramic Teeth Cap Price

A tooth cap placed to cover the weak tooth or severely discolored teeth restores its shape, size, and strength. Dr. Garg’s Multispeciality Dental Center in Delhi offers the lowest prices of metal-ceramic teeth caps with the surety of a world-class dental treatment facility.

[sabka-dentist07]

Dental Clinic in JP Nagar Bangalore

Sabka Dentist Dental Clinic in JP Nagar Bangalore Are you looking for a relaxed and calming dental experience? Then search no more! Sabka Dentist in JP Nagar, Bangalore is equipped with high-end dental instruments, a plush dental clinic, highly educated best dentists in Bangalore who perform affordable procedures. With the best dentists at JP Nagar, Bangalore, one does not need to fear about his or her oral health. Learned from the best, our dentists put to use their knowledge in a way that also educates the patients and makes them feel nothing is hidden. it is all transparent and right in front of them, whatever is being done. Our dentists at Sabka Dentist in JP Nagar, Bangalore build a foundation of trust, eliminating the fear and the notion of how dental treatment is painful; thus raising awareness about oral health and dental care. One visit to Sabka Dentist in JP Nagar Bangalore is all you need to inculcate the desire for oral or mouth care. We also perform post-treatment follow-ups since we have immense concern for them. Dentistry is something that cannot be done in a hurry. But we, at Sabka Dentist care about you and your time, hence we try to make the best use of your time given to us. For a pleasant dental service, Sabka Dentist in JP Nagar, a dental clinic in Bangalore to visit. Dental treatment at the Sabka Dentist Dental Clinic: -Dental Check-up -Dental Implants -Dentures -Orthodontic Treatment (Braces) -Root Canal Treatment -Teeth Scaling and Polishing -Teeth Cleaning -Teeth Whitening and Bleaching -Overdentures -Oral Health Guide

Email - info@sabkadentist.com

Phone number - 9742270022

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[amddentalclinic]

How much does a ceramic tooth cap cost in India?

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[milkypompon]

Chapter 1 | Midnight Musings

pairing: Marc Spector x Reader (implied Steven Grant x Reader, implied Jake Lockley x Reader)

summary: Even after a year living with Steven and Jake in the headspace, Marc struggles to quiet the buzzing chatter. He finds himself frequenting Coffee for Two, a place where brewing roasts fill the air and the cookies are as sweet as the barista.

content: coffeeshops, fluff, innuendo (thanks to Jake), poor shy and tired Marc who just needs his drink

wc: 1.2k

a/n: HELLO Moon Knight luvers!! I'm sweeping out this fic since I've had it around for some bit!

Moon Knight Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Coffee Doodles Masterlist

< Previous || Next >

—

Working the closing shift has its disadvantages… and occasional perks. 

People weave in and out of the café from the crack of dawn, then scurry away when the moon is at its highest. Rarely did they stay to settle down on the rickety chairs late into the night, ever so eager to drag themselves home after a long day.

You hardly remember the customers’ faces, usually down-turned with a sour look of annoyance on their phones who impatiently tap their shoe on the wooden floors. 

The man in front of you with waves of hair swept back to reveal his gruff demeanor, albeit a ruggedly handsome one, wasn’t any different from the others. Yet, you try to catch his eye as he sends a text. 

“You work the late hours like me?” You ask and crack a smile, immediately regretting it after realizing how wry it must’ve appeared from your exhaustion. 

He merely grunts in confirmation.

You clear your throat and idly tap your fingers on the granite countertop. “What can I get for you then?”

“Just a cup of coffee. Make it black.” He retrieves a leather wallet from his jacket pocket and pulls out a few quid in exchange for the kick of energy he desperately needs. 

“Your name?”

“Marc.” 

You whisper his name to yourself before reaching beside you to grab a paper cup and scrawling it on there.

Marc watches you catch your bottom lip between your teeth in fierce concentration as you doodle a smiley face next to his name. He wonders if you did this for every customer or if it was a way to keep yourself awake.

Before you made your last mark, you saw him through your peripheral vision staring at you intently. Usually, customers appreciate the little pick-me-up from the drawings you made. You inwardly wince for holding him up. “Sorry, you must be in a hurry”. You quickly cap the pink Sharpie and toss it into a small ceramic pot filled with other writing utensils. 

Marc notes how some were more appropriate or journaling, like the bright glitter pens, than for work. But it was well-loved all the same since it was nearly flatlining from use. 

“I’ll have it out for you in a minute.”

He shook his head, the black locks of curls bouncing slightly. “No rush, really.”

You situate yourself behind the coffee machine, tinkering with the buttons and opening the wrinkled bag of coffee beans. The warm scent permeates the air, even more so when the brown liquid dribbles into the cup. You quietly sigh in relief at the simplicity of the process. You’ve had a fair share of blended and iced drinks often brought back to the counter by unamused customers, claiming that it didn’t taste the same as last week even though there was a clear-cut recipe list plastered in front of your face when you made their orders. 

You carefully fiddle the cap over the cup and hand it to Marc with a tired smile. 

Marc felt your fingers brush along his. It was warm, but he wasn’t sure if it was just from the coffee. Regardless, he nodded in thanks and was soon swallowed by the darkness as he left to sip his coffee at nearly 1 a.m.

The London weather constantly nipped at his fingertips. 

He curses under his breath and shoved his free hand into his jacket pocket. He longed to settle back into his flat and curl up into layers of blankets, which was truthfully a sorry excuse for warmth because of the godawful heater he just couldn’t find the time to fix. His mind drifted to your touch, it was light, brief if anything. But it sparked a warmth that a blanket or a cup of coffee couldn’t quite satiate. 

A snarky voice filled his headspace, Fuckin’ touch starved.

Marc rolled his eyes. Shut your damn mouth, Lockley. 

He crosses the road, not bothering to look left or right, there’s only him, the moon, and some bloke smoking a dying cig by a closed convenience store. When he squints he saw Steven picking at the loose threads of his shirt in the window. 

Quite a looker with a pretty voice. 

Marc sighs in response, Not you too. 

He takes one last gulp at the bitter drink before raising it over the tin can filled with other rubbish. The streetlamp’s yellowish light caught your handiwork on the cup, his name with half a smiley face messily written with your pink Sharpie. He chuckled at the unfinished doodle, remembering how your eyes widened when you realized he was watching you closely. 

Like a deer caught in the headlights, Steven remarked.

Marc chuckles at his words.

–

It was another closing shift. 

You begrudgingly accepted it from your coworker who reminded you with a smirk that the pastries behind the glass was up for grabs the moment you flipped the “closed” sign by the window. Anyone with half a mind would have sticky hands for the chocolate croissant dusted with powdered sugar. Just the thought of warming it up in the oven toaster as you wipe the counters and stocked the shelves with mugs made you a little hungry. 

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to be eating sweet treats considering the time, but said sweet treats were going straight into the rubbish-bin if you didn’t house them in your stomach. 

You happily hum a familiar tune you heard on the tube while sliding the glass door separating you and your beloved reward for the hard work.

A pleasant jingle of a bell rang over the front door abruptly ending your monotonous tasks.

You toss your head over your shoulder. “Sorry, we’re closed—” 

The same man (Marc, was it?) nods down in apology for entering after hours. He truly was a man of few words.

“Oh! It’s you. I was afraid you were a customer with a complicated drink coming in at the last second.” You dusted your fingers down the seams of your apron and beckoned him inside. “But, it’s the same as last night?”

Marc runs his fingers through the tufts of his curls, the strands wrapping around each finger. You wondered what it felt like. The thought in passing rises to the forefront of your mind. It left as quickly as it came when you hear him call your name after reading it across the embroidered stitching of your apron.

The corners of his mouth turn up in amusement, hardly an exchange for pleasantries, but it was more than what he’d given before. He slides a few quid on the counter. “Yeah, coffee. Black.” 

You pluck your pink Sharpie and begin to write his name on it. After a few quiet moments of gurgling from the machine, you hand the cup to him. 

He furrows his eyebrows.

You quip with a grin. “Did I manage to mess up the easiest order known to man?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“You didn’t draw on it this time.”

You almost laugh but the serious crease on his face was a testament to his genuine disappointment. “Well it wouldn’t be very good service if I didn’t complete my job, eh?”

His eyes shift to the glass covering the pastries as if seeing something you couldn't. “You wanna talk about good service?” A playful lilt tugs at his voice, almost unfamiliar. 

Before you can respond, he mumbles a thank you and scurries out of the cafe. 

Did he just flirt? And… get embarrassed?

I'd love to hear your thoughts and my inbox is always open for requests or if you want to chat!

[quartervirus]

🦇👻🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEEEEEEENNNN 🎃👻🦇

Halloween really snuck up on me this year. I intended to upload old, vaguely-thematic art throughout the month, then Life Happened and suddenly it was October 31st.

Here's my last-minute fit thrown together from what I had lying around for the company party I didn't know was happening until I walked into the studio on the day to find it done up like a Haunted House!

It's a lot of straps and chains and I definitely have a terrible allergic reaction now, but it was worth it.

I can also finally show off my NEW, TOTALLY PERMANENT VAMPIRE VENEERS!!!

I was 12 when I watched Interview With A Vampire for the first time and I've wanted fangs of my own ever since.

I am now 33.

I'd say 20 years is long enough to safely say it is no longer "just a phase", mom.

Of course, now that I have them and have gotten used to them, I'm already thinking about getting them longer ... and mORe ...

For anyone interested in details or are considering permanent fangs of their own:

These are ceramic veneers capping my existing teeth. There was no filing, extracting, or damage done to the original teeth. If I change my mind and want them removed at some point, it will be possible to remove them without issue using the old scans and X-rays as reference.

Most dentists may not agree to the procedure for personal or legal reasons. I had to really shop around to find these, which is largely why it took me so long to get them done. I finally found a dental practice specialising in cosmetics and prosthetics.

From there it was a simple matter of consulting with a dentist, taking a 3D scan of my teeth (upper, lower, biting), and sending them to the lab. The specialists mocked up a design which I tweaked until we got it looking just right, and barely two weeks later they were ready to pop in. It was so fast!

My dentist was so sweet and lovely and so excited to have such an unusual request. It turns out I'm not even the first person to ask for vampire fangs ... He and the lab made sure to brief me on the pros and cons and potential side effects, but were ultimately very happy to accommodate me.

I've had them for almost three weeks now. Talking was no issue, but I wore pop-ins throughout high school so I had some practice with more cumbersome teeth. It took a little longer to get used to how the fangs felt in my mouth, and I definitely startled myself a few times in the mirror.

Eating, however ... It didn't even occur to me until I was staring down a plate of food that it's not exactly a thing vampires are known for.

We're mostly fine now.

Spoons are sometimes an issue.

I am psyched and very happy with the veneers and 11/10 would get them again. Of course, now that I've gotten used to this bite, I'm already suffering "teeth envy" and considering future alterations ...

💀⚰️🦇 Happy Halloween, little batlings 🦇⚰️💀

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST

Don't Fear The Reaper (Dark!Tommy/ Part One)

Summary: After what was supposed to be a chilled night in with a friend you end up playing a game that unintentionally summons back the dark presence that had haunted you most of your early adulthood. With no way of avoiding the inevitable reunion you are forced to face the otherworldly being and the unfinished business he is set on fulfilling. That unfinished business, you.

Warnings: Language, angst, supernatural themes, dark romance, mentions of blood, stalking, murder, obsessive behaviour, controlling behaviour, dark!tommy (This is a dark series with heavy potentially triggering undertones, please read the warnings before continuing)

Authors note: This series is inspired by the song "Don't Fear The Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult, one of my all time favourite tracks.

November 1923...

" Today we gather in sorrow. In remembrance, as we lay Y/N Y/L/N to rest. A beloved granddaughter..." the Reverend said as he glanced up from his sermon to your grandfather, his eyes filled with unspent tears, a man of his time desperately trying to conceal the grief he felt at the vicious loss of his only remaining family member as he clutched his fingers around the single red rose in his weathered hands, scared and calloused from the years of manual labour he had endured. "a friend..." he continued as he looked at the many people gathered around the freshly dug grave, heads cast down, tears staining their reddened cheeks nipped by the cool November air of winter slowly approaching. "...and a blossoming love cruelly snatched away before it's time" he finished as he looked up across the casket to a man dressed all in black, his face concealed by the dark shadow cast by his peak cap, his eyes fixed on the muddied grass below him as a gust of bitter wind blew a scattering of dried leaves past his boots tumbling into the six-foot deep hole before him. His name, Thomas Shelby, the infamous keeper of Birmingham. " Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done..." the priest prayed, raising his hands as all those present began to recite the Lord's prayer in unison whilst Tommy pulled his gold pocket watch out, his brows knitting together at the lengthy time the service had already dragged out. He had things to do...places to be. "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from, evil" the priest finished casting his gaze down in a moment of silence as Tommy's eyes darted up, met with the glaring stare of his Aunt as she held onto the Black Madonna around her neck. Her tear streaked face was visibly shaken from the anger rapidly coursing through her as her nephew dismissively turned his attention above to a hoard of black crows leaving their nest in a nearby tree, the ear-piercing caw of death parting in search of another poor soul of Small Heath to take to the underworld resonating through the gloomy cemetery. " We therefore commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." the priest hummed as he walked around the grave to the man whose path had fatefully collided with your own. Presenting him with a small ceramic pot Tommy lifted a handful of dirt from within the jar, tossing it into the grave as he bent down on one knee, rubbing the remaining soil that had scattered on the grass between his gloved fingers.

" Let's give 'em a show eh?" Tommy whispered as he stood up wiping his forefinger across the bottom of his lower lash as he locked eyes with his cousin. His jaw tightening his teeth clenched, Michael was one breath away from doing something he would undoubtedly regret as Tommy, who was amused with the whole situation, sent him a playful wink, his cousin's angry demeanour clearly not enough to stop him from riling him further up.

" Tommy..." Ada sobbed as she clutched onto her brother's arm wiping her tears away at the tragic event that had brought this day about as every attendee proceeded to bid their final farewell whilst the coffin was slowly lowered into the ground.

" What even was the point?" Ada sniffed as she walked beside Tommy down the gravelled path. "An empty casket Tommy..." She said stopping her brother as she looked back to the workmen shovelling heaps of muddied dirt back into the grave. The finest casket made in Birmingham, Tommy made sure of it. But weightless, empty, a disgrace in Ada's eyes that her beloved friends body had not been found, the only thing left in its expected place a small pool of blood and a dishevelled flat.

" To say goodbye Ada" he said as he rubbed a cigarette across his lips squinting into the distance as he watched the numerous mourners part from the cemetery, the same cemetery he seemed to have frequented more than any other place in his lifetime.

" Shit. I'm sorry" she said turning back to face her brother and the solemn expression he had conjured up settling on his face. "How are you?" she sighed, concerned with her brother's wellbeing and the persistent stoic demeanour he refused to let falter, even in times such as these.

"As expected" he said flatly as he blew a cloud of smoke to the greying sky, rubbing his brow with his thumb.

" You can talk to me Tommy. I know you hadn't been together for long, but..." she said crossing her arms as she bit her bottom lip trying to hold back the tears welling in her eyes. "...you loved her and she loved you, any fool could've seen that" she finished as she looked down at the ground, a tear slipping over her cheek as she dug the end of her shoe into the grass whilst Tommy observed his sisters turmoil in the corner of his eye, something be had yet been able to muster up himself. " Fuck, who invited him?" she spat looking to Michael as he got into one of the many Bentleys lined up at the bottom of the path.

" Polly" Tommy replied taking one last puff of his cigarette before throwing it onto the gravelled path beneath him, stubbing it out with the flat of his boot.

" Well he has no right" Ada said glaring at her cousin as she took a step closer to her brother. "Y/N was scared of him Tommy. She didn't want to worry you but..." Ada sighed as she watched Polly follow her son into the motor vehicle that could undoubtedly feed the whole of Small Heath for the next five years. "She'd convinced herself it was him following her. And she's not alone, me and the girls from the office think it was him too. You need to do something Tommy" Ada added in a hushed voice, despaired that justice hadn't yet been delivered on behalf of her dear friend.

" And I am, alright?" Tommy replied his brows raised in irritation, his sisters relentless questions regarding your presumed untimely demise starting to get on his last nerve, the beloved boyfriend a far cry from the grieving one he had been trying to portray.

" Wait, where are you going?" Ada asked as her brother turned to leave for his car.

" Away" he replied shortly as his sister stepped in front of him, her brows creasing at the sudden patch of blood staining the collar of his freshly laundered white shirt, snagged by the sharp movement of Tommy's head snapping back to her.

" Jesus Tommy, what the fuck happened to you?" she said as she pulled his collar further down, a large cut that had all but been concealed for the entirety of the service suddenly making itself known.

"Must've nicked myself shaving" Tommy said dismissively as he pulled his shirt back up, hissing at the sharp friction of the cloth grazing against the bloodied wound on his neck.

" Nicked? Was you wrangling a wild animal whilst you was shaving?" She scoffed as she folded her arms eyeing up the crimson stain for a second time, the cut resembling more the grooves of human fingernails scratched into flesh than any injury made by the act of male grooming. " Tommy, what...what about the wake?" Ada called out to her brother as he ignored any further remarks on the suspicious gash to his neck making his way down the path.

" I need time to think, alone Ada. In peace" he called back whilst she watched from afar, an exasperated huff leaving her throat before grief overcame her once more and she headed back up to the grave to say her final goodbye in private.

"Fill her up lads, to the top" he said handing a bundle of King George notes to two more gravediggers in passing on the gritted walkway, his black coat blowing open as a gust of wind cut through the cemetery creaking the leafless branches of a weeping ash tree nearby. Lighting a cigarette Tommy looked up to the top of the graveyard, eyeing up the spot he had chosen for your supposed resting place as a devilish smirk formed on his lips, hidden to those nearby by the cloud of smoke pummelling into the crisp Autumn air. Devilish indeed, manipulative, a wicked lie fabricated for those that would never come to learn the truth of what really happened on that fateful night, all but two of course.

Pulling at your restraints you cried out as your wrists scraped along the ropes, the sharp burn of the twine searing your skin as the all too familiar sound of a car driving along the muddied grass haltered your attempts to call for aid. Cowering yourself into the corner of the small vardo you brought your knees up to your chest as the door opened and the sweet smell of tobacco filled the the room.

" Tut, tut" you heard him say as he grabbed your wrists inspecting your pathetic attempts to escape.

The man you had determined to have been following you, stalking you, now inches from you, his breath hot against your cheek as he leant forward gently untying the cloth from around your eyes, slowly pulling it away. He had fooled you into loving him, convinced you he had kept you from harms way, and he was back again to convince you once more into understanding why he did what he had so selflessly done. Albeit with a wicked grin mischievously playing on the corner of his mouth.

"Tommy..."

" Hello darling"

November 2023...

"Fuck, shit...fuck!" You yelled as you pulled your hand from within the file of papers you had decided to spring-clean, a rather late spring-clean of eight months that was. " Fuck..." You resorted one last time just for the thrills of dramatising the injury you had acquired in your attempts to be an orderly person. Said injury, a bloody paper cut. One that seemed to have amassed it's very own heartbeat in the space of a few seconds. Painful, but not the worst injury you had brought upon yourself. The great stubbing of ones toe in the summer of 2022 when you decided on rearranging your whole flat during a existential crisis had yet to be topped. Avoiding the scattering of crap that now adorned your bedroom floor you headed for the bathroom to wrap your bleeding finger in whatever was available. Toilet paper should do the trick you thought to yourself as you grabbed a roll of Andrex Supreme Quilts from your bathroom cupboard, only the finest for your ass. What on earth made you think this was a good idea? You thought to yourself as you looked around your home that had started to ressemble an episode of hoarders when a small box peaking out under a stack of folders caught your eye, its recognisable pattern embellishing the sides of the cardboard making your heart skip a beat. " What the..." You said aloud as a heavy feeling of dread and confusion settled in the pit of your stomach, your eyes wide at seeing the one item that had all but destroyed any attempts you had made to have a normal life. The same item you thought you had thrown out along with all the memories of the years you had spent trying to understand why they chose you, why it was you their voices never left your thoughts in peace. Is that how it all started? Your ability, or as your referred to it, curse. A stupid board game that had single handedly cast you out from not only your childhood friends but your own family. The same family aside from your beloved granddad that had dragged you to every psychiatrist in the county, every priest, every professional that had prescribed you not with help or sympathy but the label of burden, attention seeker. But a child's imaginary friends were not so imaginary. They would seek you out, knowing you were their connection to the living world for years up until your early adult when another deathly presence appeared, one that stayed in the shadows, always watching from afar. He was not like the others, he stayed back, his gaze always hidden by the shadow his peak cap would cast on his face. And unlike the others he scared you, really fucking scared you. Picking the box up you marched into your kitchen throwing it on the table as you reached into a cupboard for a bin bag. You had been rid of him for years and you would be rid of this game too. After all, it was because of him you shut your eyes from the unliving, ignored their whisperings, determined to live a normal life as normally as you could. That was your plan until the doorbell obnoxiously rang five times in a row and your friends voice reverberated through the corridors of your flat building.

" Open up whore, I brought booze! " she giggled loudly as you heard her stumble forward. Bloody hell, was she already drunk?

" Helena.." you smiled as you opened the door to her standing with a bottle of Smirnoff Ice in her hand, hell-bent on recreating her teen years taking shots from the bottle cap. Oh great, she brought friends, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes at the two smartly dressed men behind her.

" You are a klutz babe" she lovingly remarked looking down at your makeshift bandage tightly wrapped around your finger with a kiss to your cheek. " Barneby and Hugh" she introduced you to the two men that had already made themselves at home, currently splayed across your sofa as the nauseating smell of their aftershave they had doused themselves in filled the room. You would never comment on the name anyone had been bestowed upon by their dear parents but, my god...had they just walked off the polo pitch? Londoners no doubt, private upper schooling you thought to yourself, your suspicions only confirmed when the tall blonde Hugh stood up from your sofa with his hand out for you to shake his accent quickly making itself known.

" Hugh. We work for Goldman Sachs in London, took a detour to take in the local..." he cleared his throat as he looked back at his friend with a smirk. Idiot. What an opening line, was he about to present you with his business card? "...sights of Birmingham on our way up north when one of our associates introduced us to the lovely Helena" he said sitting down on the arm of your sofa as he eyes roamed over your body. Detour... What did he think Small Heath was? The local petting zoo to gawk at, the same way he was gawking at you? Yes there was your average oddball here and there and the man that walked around town shoeless, regardless as to whether it was pissing it down or scorching hot outside. But it was your town, and you wouldn't have any jumped up city boy put it down.

" Hmm, how is the big smoke?" you quipped back as the perfectly groomed man with a suspiciously tinted beard grin widened.

" She's feisty Hughey, just how you like them" his friend laughed as his grin settled into a cocky smirk. Hughey...give me strength.

" Helena, I thought we was just gonna watch a movie get some takeou.."

" What the heck! No no, you're not throwing that out!" She screeched as she bolted up from the armchair to the Ouija board you had intended to bin. She was unusually chaotic than her normal bubbly self. The Smirnoff had clearly already been tasted, enjoyed and partly consumed, you thought to yourself as you eyed up the bottle missing a good chunk of it's contents. " I've always wanted to have a go with one of these. Why didn't you say you had this naughty game in your possession?" she asked clutching it to her chest.

" I prefer strip poker but this could be a laugh " the other Londoner remarked with a chuckle as he stood up taking the box from your friend. Could you will your curse to him, you thought to yourself as your eyes narrowed in on the game in his hand. They were getting increasingly annoying. Could they just, fuck off?

" How about it Y/N?" Your friend smiled with joy at the idea of exploring the supernatural side of life.

" I, I don't think it's a good idea" you said as you snatched the box away from the man who had started rootling through it, feeling overly protective over something you intended to discard of, a sudden longing to be comforted by your childhood companions, your only companions. Would they come back if you let them? Or had too much time passed since you had shut your eyes to the spirit world, since you had pushed them out of your life?

" Don't be a spoil sport Y/N" the blonde said prying the board from your bear like grip as you began to feel as if someone was taking a part of what made you uniquely you away from your whole being.

" We can't do it here, it's not the right setting" your friend said looking around your place wanting a full immersion into whatever overly exaggerated scene she wanted to recreate from one of the many movies or shows she had watched " Ooh let's go to that passing by the riverside. You know, the one from all the story's about the dark mysterious figure that resides down there as smoke blows from the old wagons chimney" she said grinning from ear to ear recounting the story every resident of Small Heath had heard since childhood.

" Helena, that's private property" you said as she began to drag you with her to the front door, grabbing your jacket on the way out as she linked arms with you.

" It's just a bit of fun, please? " she pleaded as she waited for a response. A bit of fun, you could list a whole page of other activities that sounded funner. The first being getting take out and drinking yourself to sleep, the original plan for tonight. Could you risk delving back into the otherworldly land you had cut off? Had your ability vanished for good? What if they reappeared, what if he appeared the one you had been painstakingly avoiding for near a decade. It had been so long, surely he was gone, right?

"Fine" your reluctant response slipped out not wanting to be the that person as you headed out the door when just like any generic horror movie your friend was desperately trying to duplicate an uneasy feeling suddenly settled in your stomach. You had become the very character you would scream at your TV screen, violently throwing popcorn in its direction to not be a cliché and go into the creepy woods with a Ouija board, one slightly pissed friend and two idiot tag alongs. But yet here you was, about to ignore every fiber of your being telling your to turn back.

" Hello Mr magpie how's your wife and kids" you whispered quietly to yourself watching the black and white bird perched on a large log that had undoubtedly fallen during the storm that had come through last week as you clutched the thinnest jacket your friend could have possibly picked out for you around your body. Fashion over functionality, that was Helena's Moto you thought to yourself feeling your fingers go numb from the cool air of the bitter Autumn night. One for joy, two for a boy, how many was it for death...no fuck, that wasn't it. You mentally hummed to yourself as you looked around for a second magpie having forgotten the silly superstition your grandad had always recited to you in the presence of the blue tailed bird.

" Can warm you up if you like?" Hugh laughed putting his arm around you which you automatically shrugged off. " You're as frigid as this weather" he joked as you stormed ahead of you with an irritated huff, catching up with your friend who was a few feet ahead of you as your eyes darted around the open area surrounded by numerous large oak trees, the soft sound of the riverbank gently colliding with the muddied ground pricking your ears. As peaceful as it looked in the silver moonlight casting array of shadows onto the dewy grass you didn't want to be here, something felt...off. You was sure you had never once entered this area In your whole existence but yet, something felt eerily similar about it. What you wouldn't do to be in front of the comforting fire of your late granddads home, watching him nod off in front of the TV with a bowl of striped humbugs in his lap, his dentures floating in a glass of water beside him...not the most poetic image you could've conjured up as your anxiety started to make itself presence, but it was home, and it was where your heart was. Your thoughts had become so tangled, since he passed, uncomfortably intrusive. You felt lonely, so lonely in a world surrounded by people that life had become one long draining experience day in day out. You was desperate for relief from the crushing weight of the cards you had been dealt in life.

"Ooh perfect" your friend said snapping you out of your thoughts as she walked up to an old wooden picnic table in the middle of the passing, the worn emerald green vardo that had fallen apart like the rest of the upkeep of the area feet from you, silently stuck in times from before. " Right come on then, tell us how it works"

" Guys I don't think this is a good..." You started to say when Brian, Barney, Barneby, whatever his name was rudely interrupted you.

"You know what I think sweetie, I think you're scared" he laughed as he went to sit down, his nose turning up at the rotten wood he was about to place his Tom Ford three-piece suit that's trousers looked two sizes too small. If he was trying to accentuate what he was packing he needn't bother.

" You can sit next to me if you like" Hugh winked as you purposely made a point to sit across from him, covering your exposed cleavage with your jacket from his pervy leering eyes. The quicker you got this over with this the quicker you could distance yourself from these two imbeciles, you thought to yourself as you pulled the box In front of you, your hands tracing over the pieces of your childhood. The game in itself was pretty simple you each placed two fingers on the triangular shaped piece of wood and proceeded to ask questions. That was it, what happened after was open for debate.

"We call upon the spirit world and welcome those into the circle who wish to speak with us" you said aloud, your mouth suddenly going dry at the passage you never thought you'd hear leave your lips as the tall blonde seated in front of you scoffed at the words you could only image he thought were nothing more than absurd ramblings of wishful thinking.

" It's not doing anything" your friend remarked, now fully submerged in the game she wholeheartedly believed was more than something teens would play in abandoned buildings late at night, desperate for her own supernatural experience.

" It can take some tim..." You started to say as the planchette started moving, both idiots opposite you nudging eachother under the table as your friends eyes stayed fixed on the moving piece of wood, your own attention startled by the arrival of a dozen people slowly approaching through the wooded area, their deafening whispers muffling out your friends voice. Your eyes darted between Helena and the two men she had brought along with her, willing them to see what you could see as the small crowd of people closed in surrounding the table as they called out the names of their family. Mother's, sister, brothers, fathers, grandparents, begging you to pass message after message onward to their loved ones. "Stop..please..." you said quietly, closing your eyes as you pressed your hand to your forehead. There was too many of them, it was happening too fast. You wanted it to stop to just stop, just fucking stop...

" Enough!" A loud deep voice boomed through the crisp night air as the dead retreated back and the form of a man leaning against a tree dressed all in black came into your view, a cloud of smoke pummeling above his head, his eyes cast down at the ground as he rolled his cigarette between his fingers. It was him, he was back. " Leave" he commanded to the others as he slowly strode towards you.

They couldn't see him, why couldn't they see him? He was standing right there, right fucking next to you. You thought to yourself as your chest heaved up and down from the sheer panic rapidly coursing through you, your breaths coming in ragged shallow ripples as his black tailored coat grazed along your arm sending a burning shiver down your spine. A dumb game, a stupid dumb game. Why did you agree to this? You had unknowingly invited him back, summoned him after all the years you had painstakingly tried to keep his presence at bay, you panicked as you looked in the corner of your eye to see him rubbing his thumb over his forefinger, enticing you to look up, taunting you to meet the piercing glare you was certain you'd be met with if you dared to look his way. But yet you stayed motionless, frozen as your eyes slowly settled on your hand resting over the intricately detailed planchette as your friend beside you giggled at its erratic movements on the board below it, which either one or both of the idiots she had brought along with her were undoubtedly doing.

" Alright I've had enough, which one of you wankers is moving it?" Your friend Helena demanded to know as you looked across to the prick that had been hounding you since the moment he laid eyes on you, a faint smirk playing on the corner of his mouth when a leather gloved hand crept across the table placing itself over yours, slowly lacing it's fingers between your own. Your whole body trembling, you desperately tried to pull your hand away when the sinister figure standing beside you grip tightened, keeping your from escaping his inevitable presence as the wooden triangle started to move.

" Y/N…" Your friend said looking to you as the planchette stopped, your name having been spelt letter by letter in a gentle dance of toing and froing that swept across the board until all those present eyes widened not only in fear but confusion. If they weren't moving it, who was? Releasing his hand from yours he reached up, brushing away a lone tear resting on the top of your reddened cheek that had settled in the midst of the spine-chilling ordeal. "Babe, what's wrong?" your friend asked, your frightened, shaken demeanor concerning her enough to pull her hand from the game as she placed her arm around your shoulders in attempts to comfort you when you felt the very figure you had been evading for near a decade rest his thumb gently on the end of your chin, the sound of his leather gloves creasing sending a nauseating chill throughout your body as he turned your head to face him. And there he was. The man, the presence you thought you'd never see again, his face masked by the shadow of his peaked cap now visible to your eye, his ghostly pale skin brightened by his piercing blue eyes boring Into you as a smile formed on the edge of his lips…

" Hello darling. I've been waiting for you" he said as your bottom lip began to wobble, a cascade of tears now streaming down your cheeks wetting the leather gloved thumb still resting on your chin as he tenderly gazed into your eyes. " Shhh" he hushed your frightened sobs as his hand moved to your cheek cupping his fingers gently around the side of your neck.

" What's with her?" the man opposite your friend said as your gaze stayed fixed on the presence before you, watching the irritation build on his face at the the tender moment he had played through his mind countless times spoiled by he annoying chattering of the man accompanying you.

" You're shaking gorgeous. Offer's still there hm? Can warm you up in that broken down gypsy thing" Hugh snickered along with his friend as Helena glared at him, an array of insults leaving her lips. " We'd be better off naked though, we'll warm up quicker that way" he laughed obnoxiously when the presence before you head snapped in his direction, the blue hue of eyes quickly replaced by a sinister black as he threw the table over in front of you in one quick deliberate motion. With his hand clenched into a fist he turned to the man who had not only embarrassed you but insulted you shamelessly In front of everyone with the suggestion you were as crude as him, landing a brutally violent single punch to his face.

" What...what the fuck! What was that?" His friend stuttered leaping from the bench as he looked down at his dazed friend, blood dripping from an open gash on his bottom lip as Helena screamed in horror at what had just happened, her brain simultaneously trying to compute how it had happened. " We're getting the hell out of here" he said lifting his friend from the ground that was holding his lip together as the being beside you rested his hand firmly on your shoulder, squeezing his fingers into your flesh in a clear message to not dare move.

" Babe...Y/N we gotta go" your friend cried trying to pull you from the bench as you stayed seated and the dark presences grip on you tightened.

" Leave Helena " you cried not wishing harm to come to anyone else. He wanted you, he had haunted you for all those years. Your friend and the two men accompanying you were a mere inconvenience. And after what had just transpired, you feared what he could and would do next.

" What! No come on..!" She pleaded shaking you from what she thought was a state of shock when the man she had invited let go of his bloodied friend and started pulling her away from you. " Y/N!" she cried, the distant sound of her fighting with him as he dragged her out of the gated area slowly disappearing as you was ultimately left in silence, alone, with him.

" Please...let me go" you wept as you turned your head to face him.

" Let you go? I've only just got you back sweetheart" he said as he released his hand from your shoulder, his fingers now brushing through the locks of hair framing your face. " You invited me back love, and that was one invitation I could not refuse" he said as you stood up taking a step back when he reached out and grabbed your wrist." Now now Y/N, we have unfinished business" he said pulling you back to him, his pale ivory face inches from you, lips drained of blood tauntingly close.

" I came in peace, with no intentions to offend. I say goodbye and bid you farewell" you recited the words you had learnt by heart after any encounter you once had speaking with those from the other realm.

" Oh sweetheart, now who taught you that little rhyme eh? I'm afraid it doesn't work like that love" he chuckled cocking a brow at the idea that your silly little riddle would cause him to simply vanish before you. " My girl" he said as his thumb dragged down to the corner of your mouth, tracing the curve of your trembling lips, staring at you like a lover would gaze at their partner.

"I, I don't know you, I'm not who you're looking for" you sobbed as you looked down at your hands, clutching them together from the drop in temperature his presence demanded.

" Oh but you do know me darling. You know me very well" he said as his lips parted and his eyes drifted down to the soft flesh of your neck, down to the curves your blouse beneath your jacket hugged your body. " I've waited a century for this very moment, for us to finally be reunited. And believe me sweetheart, my patience is starting to wear thin, very thin" Is that what this was...He thought you were his dead lover, a reincarnation of her that he had been waiting a hundred years for, an anomaly where everything that makes something uniquely individual to them, their genes their likes their dislikes repeating itself into a second copy days, years, thousands of decades later, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened at the realisation of what he had been waiting for, what he had been watching you for as you turned to make a swift exit.

" I can't let you leave Y/N" he said as the large metal gate to the opening slammed shut making you abruptly stop in your tracks.

" I want to go home. I'm not her, I don't belong here..." You cried in a panic, turning back to face him as he strode forward to you his with his hand out, calmly waiting for you to take it.

" Then let me show you" he replied intertwining his fingers with yours as he gently cupped your cheek with his other hand, the welcoming chill from his leather gloved hand soothing the heat radiating from your reddened tear stained cheek. "Let me show you who you were, who you were in 1923..."

NEXT PART

Tag list: @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @prettywhenicry4 @smayhem

[thesightstoshowyou]

A Trick for a Treat

- A Series -

~~ Over the next few days, I hope to get out a few shorts detailing what my favorite characters are up to on Halloween ~~

Part I

The Man (Hush) x GN Reader

Warnings: Breaking and entering, canon-typical violence, knee trauma

At the end of a dead end street, tucked away behind towering pine and oak, sits your little home. The road isn’t paved, no streetlights in place to light the way. It’s nearly impossible to find even with GPS, which is why you’re surprised when your doorbell rings late one Halloween night.

You freeze in your kitchen. In quick succession, your gaze shifts to the clock—9:30, way too late for a trick or treater—to the pantry—no candy. You never bother buying any these days. No one has ever visited your little neck of the woods on Halloween and then you’re always forced to eat the entire bag yourself.

Maybe it’s someone new to the neighborhood?

Carefully, you approach the front door. The handle is chilly under your palm when you twist it. Hinges squeak as the door swings open to reveal a…someone on the other side.

It’s a teenager, maybe? Or perhaps a short man, judging by his build. He’s broader in the shoulders than a lanky youth should be. Either way, it’s hard to tell with the bland, white mask covering his face and the black beanie atop his head. You can’t make out his eyes through the locked storm door.

You wait for the customary Halloween greeting, curious to see if he will speak with the warbling tone of a preteen or the deep timbre of a man. He remains silent, however, apparently intent to observe you through the screen. Minutely, his head tips to the left. Unease prickles in your chest, creeps along your spine. Is this a prank? Or something more….

“I, uh, don’t have any ca—

The entryway light reveals the tattoo snaking along the side of his throat, more apparent now with the tilt of his head. The light catches something else too, something gleaming in his hand: the sight of a crossbow.

Fear plummets into your belly as the weapon raises. The trigger clicks and the string twangs, deafening in your silent corner of the woods. In the same second you react and half-step, half-fall to the side.

The bolt slips through the screen of the storm door like it’s made of spider silk. Searing pain burns along your waist as the point grazes your flesh. You crash into the entryway table, the lamp and ceramic bowl atop it tumbling and shattering on hardwood just as you plummet to the floor alongside.

Your shriek of terror is drowned out by the squealing of metal when the storm door is booted off its hinges. Heart in your throat, you roll and attempt to scurry away, but a heavy heel to the back of your knee stops your retreat.

Bone collides with the floor and cracks on impact. You feel every shard of shattered knee cap. Nauseating agony replaces all sensation and the scream you loose echoes in its frenzy.

“Where’r you going, huh?” A monotonous, deep voice cuts through the panic buzzing in your brain just as hands seize your arms and flip you onto your back. Something cold and sharp slots under your chin—knife, god, it’s a knife—and a sob rips from your throat.

Heart pounding, side stinging, knee stabbing, sight blurred from tears, you raise your gaze to the uncaring mask as the man wedges you between his legs. A hiss seeps from between your clenched teeth when his knee jams into the laceration in your side.

“Fuck,” he exclaims dryly, his tone as dull as the mask on his face. You can see his eyes now, blue and devoid of all emotion. He continues, “I hit the jackpot, didn’t I?”

Gloved fingers trace through the tears streaking down your face. The wetted tips pinch your quivering bottom lip and you hear the muffled inhale on the other side of the mask when you whimper.

“P-please—

“Uh huh, just like that, sweetheart,” he mumbles, a wry grin in his voice. The man shifts slightly, scoots a little further down. The blade is freezing against the flesh of your abdomen.

“Let’s have some fun.”

[silverinkbottle]

hi! hello! your velvette fic was literally amazing, i read it like at least 5 times haha! the way you write is,, wow.

anywho, i wanna request a rosie fic if that’s alright!! with a reader who’s hellborn and finds a lot of excuses to visit pride ring/cannibal town (totally not just to see rosie) bonus if reader’s a hellhound! i just really loved the way you wrote sphynx reader with velvette, animal themed demons have a soft spot in my heart ❤️ another bonus, the two are incredibly flirty with each other

thanks for your time!

A:N: Hello Anon!!! Thank you so much for the sweet request, I hope you enjoy!!

Summary: Being a Courier of Hell has it's perks; benefits, travel and sometimes the occasional yearning friendship

Warnings: Violence, Cannibalism

Flowers and Other Things

Rosie X GN!Hellhound!Reader

Word Count:3.2K

The scent of rotting meat permeated the air like a thick perfume as you let out the quietest of excited yips. It finally bloomed after months of waiting and watching as you leaned closer to the cream-colored petals of the giant orchid. The inner depths speckled with crimson as the plant seemed to shudder at your closer inspection as if wanting to welcome you inside. It was just as you suspected another carnivorous plant for the books as you hastily scribbled the observation in your notebook. However, it wouldn’t thrive in Hell with it’s slow maturity phase, it would need to be crossbred with more via-

“Taking a little break, my little Bichon?” 

The gentle address startled you from your thoughts as you sheepishly smiled embarrassed at being caught from slacking off your duties. Goods didn’t transport themselves after all in the Seven Rings of Hell. It was a dangerous job, but someone had to do it as you tucked away the small book into your pant’s pocket. Straightening your cap, you clicked your heels together in a quiet greeting as Rosie giggled in amusement. 

“Apologies, mam. It’s just that-”

“Oh my stars. It bloomed overnight, I see.” Rosie’s words cut over your own as she clapped her hands together in excitement, grabbing you by the waist to turn you back around to admire the flower. You could feel your heart leap into your throat at the gentle touch as Rosie cooed over the flower’s progress and vibrant shade. 

“No wonder you wandered into the garden, Bichon. It’s lovely!” Rosie hummed as you quietly nodded your head in agreement. It’s how your unlikely friendship started afterall. Several months ago, picking up a mail order from Cannibal Town, it was impossible to resist the urge to wander about trying to track the unique scent of the Overlord’s garden. A lush bloom of nature and greenery within the Pride Ring that could rival the hanging gardens of Gluttony. Diligently tended by the lady herself as if were her own children.

“But how did you manage to figure it out, mam. Last time it looked so..sad” You asked as Rosie’s smile brightened flashing sharp pointed teeth. 

“All it took was a little bit of positivity, my Bichon. Well, B positive. Seems the soil was a bit too dry for our delicate specimen here.” Rosie explained as the heel of her shoe dug into the brownish dirt. The small impact provoked the faintest puddle of crimson that rapidly retreated back into the earth. The bodies of Sinners had more uses than food in Cannibal Town.

“Now, come with me. I need to give you something.” Rosie insisted as she grabbed you by your paw without hesitation. Once more your heart did that stupid flip flop sensation as you tried to ignore the funny sensation, but even that didn’t stop your tail from giving the smallest of wags. 

“Oh now, don’t get anxious. You’ll like this even more than the flower.” Rosie tutted as she mistook your excitement for anxiety. Still, it was a shame as greenery was exchanged for the ceramic floors of the shop. At least it was well-lit as sunlight flitted through the glass interior as you watched Rosie rifle through various storage cabinets with a determined expression. 

“My offer still stands on helping you declutter, Miss Rosie.” 

There was a clatter of muffin tins and small decorative metal cookie designs as the Overlord swept them aside with a kick of her shoe. She was almost inside the lower cabinet as you leaned further over the counter as your ears twitched at the various noises of shifting items. A bell? Something metallic rubbing against another. A strangely enticing squeak?

“All things are worth keeping, Bichon. You never know when- Ah ha!” 

Your eyes went wide as you smelled the item before it was gently set down on the counter. She wasn’t going-, no, you couldn’t.

“I insist. Think of it as a favor for ol’ Rosie. I know you can make it thrive, Bichon.” Rosie praised as she lightly pushed the small burlap sack closer to your stunned form. Even within the protective material, you could still smell the faint metallic scent of the seedling. It’s what drew your attention to its’ parent in the first place as you and Rosie organized seeds one day. In comparison to its’ dramatic parent, the seed itself was a dull green color with a thin shell. So thin that you worried its protective coating would flake away before the plant grew enough roots to properly set in the hard earth.

“But Rosie what if-”

“It fails to thrive? Then, we’ll come up with another plan, my dear.” Rosie promised as she gently pried open your closed paw to place the small sack in it. Gentle, she was so gentle as you were forced to look anywhere but at her. 

“I’ll give it my best then.” You promised as Rosie clapped her hands together in delight at your acceptance. There was the faintest chim of the shop’s greeting bell as Rosie rushed away to make quick conversation with the new guest. The small seed package in your hand still felt warm as you quickly tucked it away into your vest pocket. Next to your thudding heart as your keen gaze watched Rosie’s exaggerated hand gestures in her explanation to the guest.

“And the poor dearie thought that violet wouldn’t clash-”

Lively. It was one of the traits you admired in the woman, her seemingly endless supply of energy as it was rare for you to see her sit down. Her heels clicked against the floor as she placed another brown package of her guest as her hand idly waved towards you. The guest raised a brow, but nodded all the same before passing a sealed letter over to the shopkeep.

“Now, don’t you worry. It’ll get there within a day or two. Hellhound Couriers haven’t failed me yet.” Rosie chirped as she ushered the guest out with a flourish of her hand. While the other grabbed the letter off the counter without a second look. 

“Where’s it going?” You asked as you opened up the satchel looped over your shoulder. Its contents were depressingly small for the effort it took to get here. Traversing through the Rings could be exhausting and expensive from the impossibly slow crowds of Sloth commuters to the bolder pickpockets of Greed. 

“The Envy Ring. Something about a scorned love affair or something. She wasn’t exactly keen on the topic.” Rosie explained with a huff as the woman was a gossip hound at heart. Even as much as she denied it, stating it was mere conversation over tea and cake with a touch of theatrics. 

“Want me to try and get more info from the other party?” You suggested with a grin.

“Oh, you know me only too well, Bichon.” Rosie praised as she handed over the letter with a knowing look. It was a fair trade in the end as you knew that she too would be benefiting from advertising your services. Currency freely exchanging hands as Sinners weren’t exactly able to travel between the Rings compared to Hellborne.  At least half of your jobs came from the Pride Ring, it would have been even more if you took on more dangerous jobs like weaponry and drugs. Yet, you had seen too many of your fellow Couriers waylaid carrying those sorts of things. No, it’s why you stuck to letters, smaller packages and other less flashy deliveries.

Alarm shot through your form like an unpleasant shock as you spied the time on the wooden grandfather clock in the corner of the shop. Has it been that long? It seemed like merely an hour had passed since your arrival to the garden.

“Shit, Rosie, I’m sorry, I need to-” Your words rambled over each other as you hastily closed up your satchel.  Rosie shook her head with a gentle look, she knew what you meant to say as you quickly dashed out the door without another word.

Somehow, it made the small seed packet feel all the warmer against your chest.

Your quaint morning didn’t last long as another client slammed their door in your face. You could easily hear the curses directed towards your unexpected news through the door. What else did the Sinner expect from a loan shark in the Greed ring, clemency?  At least it was over and done with as you stepped out onto the cracked pavement of the street. It was almost second nature now to ignore the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as eyes followed your trail. 

Hellhounds weren’t unheard of in the Pride Ring, but it was a rarer occurrence. It didn’t help that your company’s logo was stitched on the back of your blue vest ‘Hellhound Couriers. Bones, bags and bodies, we’ll fetch it all.’ in stylized block lettering. At least, the rest of the uniform wasn’t too drastic as you ran a finger over the brim of the knitted cloche hat, smoothing it out. Black slacks tailored for Hellhounds alone as the seams of the ends flared out for larger paws. 

Your grip on the satchel tightened as your path was blocked by a pair of Sinners. Now the hair on the back of your neck was raised as the one with goat-like horns picked at sharp teeth with the tip of a knife. While the other held a casual nonchalant air about him, eyes piercing like serpents, but you could see the defined outline of a gun in his coat pocket. 

“I told you Jack, it’s funny thing.” 

“Oh, is it?” The goat retorted as you took a single step back. 

“Ya, we go looking for Hellhound and lookie here. Satchel n all.”

A low growl vibrated in your throat as the would-be thieves eyed you up and down. Fuck, it wasn’t like you couldn’t fight, but it would risk the packages. That wouldn’t do at all. What would the recipient of the lover’s letter from earlier think if the sincere words were stained with blood. 

“I don’t want trouble.” You hissed through clench teeth as your ears twitched at the loud click of the gun’s safety going off. 

“Well, our associates don’t want debts. So here we are. Now be a good little doggie and hand those papers over.” The goat sinner demanded as he held out his hand, only to pull it back with a sharp scream as your teeth clamped down on flesh and bone. The sudden pull made it even easier for you to vault over the injured man.

“DON’T JUST STAND THERE, SHOOT.” The goat Sinner bleated as you could see him clutching the bleeding stubs of his pointer and index finger while his surprised associate scrambled with the gun.

A single loud crack broke through the air as you took a stuttered gasp of air. Fuck, your lungs burned even though the chase only begun. Blood blossomed over your vest as your shocked brain put two and two together, the bullet had pierced through your back and went out your chest. Hissing through the pain, you did your best to stifle the warm blood with your palm. It still dripped slowly onto the pavement as you scrambled into another alleyway. Copper hazily fogged your sense of smell as you tried to focus on anything but the wound. You needed a plan.

Quickly.

Another bullet thudded into the brick wall above your head as you willed your strained body to move once again. Blood, too much blood had been lost as you could feel the edges of your vision begin to flicker with black spots. Still, hope flickered in your chest as you caught sight of the familiar brass lettering of the gateway, all it was going to take was a few more steps. 

“Fuck.” The curse spilled from your lips half spoken and half in a howl as a bullet tore through your lower left leg. Your sharp nails dragged into the concrete below as you tried to pull yourself forward, even with the numbing sensation spreading throughout your body.

“Could have made this all the easier if you had given us the damn-” The goat sinner growled as you felt the cool tip of the gun brush over the tops of your ears. His words muddled as you feebly tried to shrink away from the weapon. His mocking laughter rang in your head as you weakly held on the satchel as it was ripped from your form. The noise stuttered to a halt as the pointed tip of a knife protruded from his eye, warm blood dripped onto your cold form as you could hear the soft shake of an umbrella.

“Now, now that isn’t necessary.” 

“You crazy bi-”

Another shriek pierced the air as the packed earth beneath you rumbled like a startled beast. Something wrapped around your midriff as it pulled you forward toward the gateway. You could feel the unintentional prick of thorns over your skin as the thing shuddered protectively before carefully setting you upright, still supporting you about your waist. 

Vines? You blinked rapidly trying to clear the fog from your vision as you lightly brushed over the foliage. Yes, vines as the thing shuddered as you accidentally pricked yourself on a sharp thorn allowing dark blood to drip over its’ green-brown ‘flesh’. 

“Now let’s take a look at you, looking a bit peaky, my little Bichon.”

“Rosie?”

Her gentle smile was the last thing you saw as the world was blanketed in darkness.

Soft. Warm. Too warm. You jolted upward as hot fire ripped through your chest from the exertion. Fuck, that was right, you had been shot, your sharp nails digging into your chest felt like a gentle caress compared to the throbbing muscle beneath it. 

“Now, now. Let’s not be hasty.” The gentle voice was melodic in your ears as Rosie’s hands gently removed your tensed nails and held your paws in her own. You tried to speak, but your dried lips went mute as Rosie fussed over you. Holding cool water to your lips as you eagerly wet your parched throat. The back of her hand on your forehead as she tried to gauge the potential on-set for a fever.

She was taking care of you.

In her personal quarters.

In her bed.

“I removed the bullets, don’t fret. Seems like you are already healing up from that little misadventure, lamb.” Rosie tutted as she could see your eyes bounce around the room. It was surprisingly sparsely decorated.The bed, a modest wardrobe, a single bouquet of flowers in a crystal vase on the bedside table. The vase inhabits some sort of snapdragon that flared out with bright crimson petals.

The cool sheets did little to hide your flaming face as Rosie chuckled at your poor attempt to burrow yourself further under the cotton sheets. Anything to hide the pure scalding embarrassment of the disastrous day and having to be rescued by the Overlord of all people. 

“Honestly, those interlopers must have been desperate to get after you for entering the Town uninvited. Whatever could have set them off.” Rosie questioned as you muttered an answer in a half-hearted explanation about Greed Ring loan sharks and bills.  Or well coming due problems as you got a split second glance at the material when it was thrown back at your face.

“Ruffians. The lot of them. Going after my little Bichon like that. Well, Miss Tufele and Mr.Remius were delighted to have the late lunch-in. Gave me the most lovely of little tea cakes that we’ll-”

“I am sorry for causing you problems. Miss Rosie. It’s not becoming of my -”

“Hush.”

Your apology was cut off by a single finger against your muzzle as you went mute as commanded. Delicate, she was so gentle towards you as sharp nails brushed over your face. Treating you with as light a hand as a new sprout ready to be transplanted into the outside soil. Now a different sort of heat brushed through your fur, a slow warm ooze that started from the tips of your ears down to your toes. All because of a simple chaste kiss on your black snout as Rosie’s fingertips ghosted over your alert ears.

“Rosie, can I-” 

“Oh, sweet Bichon, even in your injured state of are all manners” Rosie teased as your tail wagged at the flirtatious inflection in her tone. Her girlish giggles were like the chimes of the most delightful bells as your lips met for a proper kiss. Short, sweet and to the point as her perfume fluttered over your form. She always did smell delightful, but now up close, it was like a banquet. Sweet smelling vanilla and the gentle notes of roses. The faintest taste of copper as you leaned in to deepen the kiss, , but at the same time you whined as your injured flesh twinged from the movement.

The sharper sound ended the kiss quickly as Rosie clucked her tongue at your hasty actions. 

“Now, there will be time for that later.”

You couldn’t help but sink dramatically into the pillows with a sigh as Rosie patted the top of your head with a chuckle.

“I promise.” Rosie muttered against the top of your ears as the sensitive things twitched from the brush of warm air against them. Still, you did as she asked and gave her a winning smile which she winked at. 

“Well, this is a change. Usually I can’t get you to sit and stay for the briefest second of calm. Always underfoot like a cat in the kitchen wanting to help me with something. Although, I do have a request, next time, show up at my doorstep unbloodied, bichon.” Rosie hummed as she flitted around the room. Opening up the window to let fresh air inside as the low rays of the sunset crept into the interior. 

“I’ll promise, Miss Rosie. Thank you..for..the..exciting day..” You promised as Rosie smiled that gentle sincere smile that made your heart flutter like a Hellhound pup over a bone.

“Think nothing of it, Bichon. Now how about a bit of tea?”

That’s how you spent the next few days. Sending apologetic letters to clients about needing to recuperate from unexpected delays. A few hesitant steps around the garden, Rosie on your arm giving encouragement. Piping hot tea and the little ginger cakes that you got to howl your praises over. Most memorable was the gentle kiss on your cheek as you left, satchel on your shoulder and a promise to come visit within the next few days.

Things were looking up in Hell.

[oomisluvr]

YOURS, MINE, OURS (I COULD DO THIS FOR HOURS)

SYNOPSIS: kiyoomi sucks at housework and you are absolutely no help.

WARNINGS: none! probably some swearing, but that’s all :’) useless!sakusa, never-learned-now-to-hang-a-photo!sakusa, also the beginning of domestic!sakusa, sfw!

“It’s a little crooked. Tilt the left side up a bit–No! My left, not yours.”

“We’re facing the same direction, love. It’s the same left.”

“Don’t sass me.” You suck your teeth, “You’re the one that asked for my help.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kiyoomi dismisses you, arms still outstretched to successfully level the small frame, “Does this look any better?”

It doesn’t. It's actually worse now.

“Looks fantastic.” You quip helpfully.

With a final huff, Kiyoomi steps back to look at his handiwork, hands braced on his hips like a proud father. Silence weighs heavy between you two. He sighs.

“I’m gonna burn down this entire building.”

“It’s not that bad, babe.”

“This looks awful. I mean, did I put this up during an earthquake? What even happened?”

“It’s an easy fix. 30 minutes max.”

“Tiktok made it look so easy.” He groans, heading for the kitchen, “‘Quick-and-easy home project’, my ass. This whole ordeal has been lengthy and difficult.”

“You’re not gonna fix it?” You ask, a bit shocked. Kiyoomi’s never been the type to abandon a project of any kind.

“I know my limits. It’s tomorrow's problem.” He decides, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet and hunting for some cereal. Brown eyes peer into your own, “Do I have you for the weekend or are you going home?”

“I think I’ll stay.“ You hum, watching him pour milk into the small ceramic bowl, “Only if we get breakfast in the morning.”

You’ve been told Kiyoomi’s been less uptight since dating you. More friendly. Open-minded. Willing to try new things. You’ve watched him grow significantly since when you first started seeing him, and you’re secure enough in this relationship to say you’ve loved every version of him. You were friends before you were anything more, and dating him has made your relationship even stronger.

“Done.” He nods, capping the milk, “I’ve been meaning to give you something, by the way.” You watch him rummage through the kitchen drawer, a slight tremor in his movements. Whatever he was searching for lands in your hand with a light toss, the object softly clinking when you catch it. “I want you to have this.”

Unequivocal access to his private space. The key to his house. You blink. 

“A key? You want me to start picking up your mail?”

He rolls his eyes, “What I would like is for you to move in with me, but I figured this is the first step.”

“This is…” You swallow, staring down at the metal as if it were alien, “A very big step.”

“I know. I trust you, though.”

To say you’re shocked in an understatement. Your relationship has been nothing short of amazing, but Kiyoomi’s always valued personal space. You expected this stage to come much further down the road.

“My lease ends in a few months.”

“I know.” You see it now, the nervousness radiating off of him. “Believe it or not, I like having you around.”

Shaking your head, “You’ll get sick of me.”

“Impossible. I adore you.”

“I’m messier than you. I’ll leave my clothes everywhere.”

“Then we’ll just have to do laundry together. You wash and I’ll fold?”

“I can’t cook.”

“Me neither.” He suppresses a grin, “But I trust that we’ll figure it out.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m not going to win this, am I?”

He shakes his head, black curls bouncing effortlessly with the movement, “Nope.”

Your expression softens, “I’ll drive you crazy.”

He hums, dipping down to press his lips to yours, “You already do.”

Jumpcut to all the pictures falling off the wall and shattering because Kiyoomi has no life skills :D

THANKS FOR READING!!

[kingofthe-egirls]

LUFFY ANGST

(luffy rejects you, ur sad, sanji sorta comforts you)

“Nope!” Luffy smiles as he rejects your sexual advances. He’s sitting on a crate, kicking his legs against the sides so his heels banged on the wood. There’s printed blue text that says “FRAGILE” in all caps. His calf squishes over it as he leans back on his hands. Both his legs cover a letter each: “G” and “E.” So now it says “FRAIL.”

Go figure.

“Oh, okay.”

The words sour your taste buds like spoiled milk. He smiles, like it’s silly you even asked. He starts tilting his head to whistle a cheerful tune.

It’s so off-key.

****

So you still do your crewmate duties: mending the sails, rigging knots, climbing up the rickety ladder to stay in the crow’s nest for a chilly night’s watch. You sit with a flannel blanket around your shoulders, staring out at the midnight sea with a cup of hot chocolate in both hands.

You blow on the steam.

Someone pokes their head through the small opening: Sanji.

“Sorry, love,” He says, smiling wryly as he climbs up to sit next to you on the small wooden bench. The Going Merry is cozy, but sometimes cramped. Especially with your crush happily spacing himself away from you. It’s been a night since your confession, and his absolute rejection is still wrecking your lungs.

You take a scalding sip of molten chocolate. Sanji sighs.

“So, I heard about your loss in love,” he starts, voice gentle as he swipes his straw hair to the side. His legs stretch out in front of him, black slacks and shiny leather shoes.

There’s a scuff on the side of his left heel. You sniff.

It smells like snow.

“Sucks.”

You mutter the syllables into your drink, the “S’s” hissing through your sharp teeth. You clack them around the edge of the mug: biting down on the ceramic.

Sanji leans his steady weight into your side, his hands clasped between his knees. His fingers are slender, and strong. Frostbite nips at his dry knuckles, the redness blossoming against the cracked skin. You scowl.

“Your hands are dry,” you say, reaching out from your warm mug to softly touch the blistered skin. You stare at him, at sapphire eyes.

He has a regretful look on his face.

“Sorry,” he says, staring down at where your fingers meet his. “Nami let me use some of her hand lotion, but it’s scented so I don’t like wearing it when I cook.”

“Ah,” you say, nodding, “Makes sense.”

His fingers slowly wrap around yours. He turns your own hand over, so he can see your palm. You hold it flat for him, letting him stroke the subtle lines. His index finger traces the long streak you sport down the center. It crisscrossed several other lines, like spiderwebs or trade routes on one of Nami’s maps.

“Long life line,” he says, softly.

“Is it?” you ask, leaning sideways to stare at your own palm in his suffering hands. “What do the other lines mean?”

Sanji shakes his head, smiling conspiratorially. “No idea, sweetheart. Sorry,” he nudges your shoulder with his own. He sets your hand back against the still-steaming mug.

“I have cream,” you say, sipping your hot chocolate. “You can use it after washing your hands. It’s got aloe in it so it’s supposed to help with dry skin…,” you trail off, your own shortage of beauty knowledge showing. You shrug. “I get dry skin, too.”

“Like a dragon,” he says, flirting. You smile, despite yourself, and settle into the weight of his side. He wraps an arm around you, and you sigh.

Steam curls up around your lips.

The chocolate tastes sweet.

“Or a lizard,” you say back.

He snorts.

“Sure, lizard skin.”

“Ew,” you snicker, smiling wide for the first time this evening.

[shenu249]

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[adaptacy]

Can u do Johnny one where we still trying to survive but johhny is obsessed with us and he keeps us to himself but we fell in love with him (stockholm syndrome ofc ofc)

not sure if you meant a drabble or hc so I went for a drabble!

CW: threats of murder/cannibalism, stockholm syndrome

Johnny x Hostage!GN!Reader

The door opened, causing you to life your head and scoot forward on the thin mattress, rubbing your eyes as your focus came-to. Johnny closed the door behind him and presented you with a ceramic plate holding some sort of sandwich. You took the plate from him, the chains on your wrists jingling as you did so. Johnny took a seat on the bed, pushing a strand of your messy hair behind your ear.

"Thank you," you whispered, taking a bite of the sandwich. It was cold, which was actually quite nice, though it didn't taste like any meat you'd ever had before. "What is it...?"

"You don't wanna know," he chuckled, standing up once more. "Eat up. Got stuff to do."

"You do or I do?" You asked, taking another bite, this one a little bigger. You would've normally turned it down, but you were starving, and you were taking whatever you could get your hands on.

"You do, darlin'."

You blinked, swallowing your bite. "What?"

"Few more bites n' I'll show ya." Johnny motioned towards your plate, and you nodded, finishing your meal as quickly as possible. Once you were done, Johnny took the plate and tossed it to the ground, allowing it to shatter, which you flinched at. "Arms up."

Though you wanted to ask why, you knew better, and instead chose to simply obey him. You lifted your arms, and he lifted your shirt, pulling it up to your wrists, but due to the chains it couldn't go any further. Fighting your instinct to cover up, you watched as Johnny formed an two Ls with his fingers and held them in front of his face, looking as though he were taking pictures of you. "What're you doing?"

"Measurn'. Hold still, sweetpea," he directed, leaning in and pulling out some sort of marker from his pocket. He popped the cap off, holding it between his teeth as he marked segmented lines around the bottom half of your breasts. He then leaned to the side, lining a segmented rectangle around your hips.

"Measuring for what?"

"Dinner," he replied, and you frowned.

"What?"

"What?" Johnny pinched his eyebrows in, glancing up at you as he drew the same square over your other hip. "I ain't gonna kill ya. Just wanna taste ya."

"You tasted me last night," you mumbled, rubbing the bite mark on your neck against your shoulder.

"Blood ain't the same. Lay down."

You laid back, your wrists resting against your sternum, and Johnny pulled the thin sheets off of your legs. You really weren't wearing much at all; a large t-shirt and underwear. That was all you'd been gifted. Fortunately, it wasn't that cold in the basement, so you managed. He propped one of your knees up, marking a circle on the back of your thigh. He then did the same with the other leg.

"Roll over."

You did that, too. You could feel the marker on your ass, and then on the upper part of the back of your thigh.

"So well-behaved, ain'tcha? You really are hopeless," he teased, and you leaned your chin on your palm, watching the dirt floor for a moment. Behaving was a good thing, wasn't it? It kept you out of trouble. Kept you from getting hurt. You didn't want to upset him. You felt a hand on your waist as he turned you over, leaning over the bed to kiss you, and you mumbled against his lips. "Keep it up."

"Yes sir," you answered, offering him a soft smile. "Johnny?"

"What?"

"I love you," you whispered, tilting your head at him.

Johnny smirked, dropping the capped pen back into his pocket. "I love your taste, sweetpea. I've gotta feed the chickens. Don't go anywhere," he chuckled, turning around and leaving the room.

You looked down at your chains, doing your best to pull your shirt back on, your mind still a little hazy from when he'd knocked you out. Your eyes followed your chains to where it attached to a post, noticing the shards of ceramic laying on the floor right next to it.

Easing yourself off of the bed, you knelt in the dirt, picking up the ceramic pieces. You picked up as many as you could, though there were some small shards mixed into the dirt, and put them in a small pile so he could take them up with him the next time he stopped by.

You thought about keeping one. Using one to fight back. But that's why it was here, wasn't it? He was testing you. Testing your devotion. Testing your loyalty. So you didn't. You left all of the pieces in the pile and climbed back into the bed, where you curdled your knees against your chest, tracing the places he'd outlined with a finger, curious about what he was planning on doing to you.