#hope you're having a lovely day dear anon!!!!
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madangel19 · 3 days ago
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if you're still doing writing requests
anything fluffy about the fire ghouls maybe 🙏🏼 especially alpha or dew?
my day just got progressively worse haha so I need a pick me up
thank you so much 💗 have a lovely day/night wherever you are
- cupid ghoul but asking from anon bcs I'm NOT putting main on blast here haha >:) 💗
I'm having a rough day as well after dealing with my car stuff. Hopefully some fluffy Dewdrop content will make it all better @cupid-ghoul :' )
Copia rushed through the halls, looking into any nearby room. He had been looking all over for Dewdrop, but he couldn’t find the sometimes elusive fire ghoul.
It had begun to snow outside and he wanted to check in on Dewdrop to see how he was doing, but he wasn’t in the ghoul den when he checked. The rest of the pack was outside enjoying the snow, but Dewdrop often did not go out when it was cold. The poor thing did not enjoy the cold that much.
“Where could that ghoul be?” Copia murmured, crossing his arms as he thought of all the places Dewdrop could be. He had checked multiple sitting rooms where a fireplace was roaring but he wasn’t in those rooms. Most siblings asked for his help with getting a fire going so Copia just had to check all of those rooms. He would find Dewdrop sooner or later. 
After checking several more rooms, Copia was about to give up before he noticed two siblings rushing out of a room, whispering amongst themselves.
“Didn’t know he could do that. How does that not hurt?” One questioned.
“I don’t know. Good thing he took his clothes off. The smell would be awful,” another said. 
That was a hopeful sign. 
Copia put on a smile when the siblings noticed him. They gasped and straightened themselves up, looking frightened for a moment before calming down.
“Good morning, Papa. What brings you here?” The first sibling asked.
“Ah, buongiorno. Good morning. Have you two seen Dewdrop anywhere?” Copia replied.
“He’s in that room. Go take a look,” the second sibling said, gesturing to the open door. 
Copia could already see the glow of a fire from within. His search was quickly coming to an end.
“Grazie. Thank you so much, my dears. Go get yourselves some hot chocolate or something nice and warm for helping me. Tell the siblings in the kitchen that Papa sent you,” Copia chimed, chuckling when he saw the delight on both of their faces. 
“Thank you, Papa!” They exclaimed before rushing away together. 
Copia nodded in approval before turning his attention back to the room. He stepped in and immediately saw the roaring fire in the giant fireplace. The room felt like an inferno, but Copia was unphased. If a fire was this big, it meant only one thing. 
Copia stepped closer and spotted Dewdrop lying in the fireplace, completely at peace and napping away amongst the burning logs. He held a log to his chest, purring away while nuzzling it. His clothes were strewn about the room, safely away from the fire.
Copia had heard tales of fire ghouls just napping in an open fireplace and it was quite a sight to see. Most times, he found Dewdrop laying before the fire and he never flinched when an ember flew out and hit his skin. Sometimes he was a bit too close to the fire for Copia's liking.
Dewdrop yawned loudly, inhaling embers and exhaling smoke as he opened his eyes, looking up at Copia tiredly. 
“Mm, mornin’, Papa,” he murmured, his voice barely heard over the fire. 
“Good morning. Are you comfortable in there, Dewdrop?” Copia asked, smiling as he sat in a nearby armchair.
The ghoul nodded, curling up like a cat in the flames. He looked so cozy in there.
“Can you add some more logs, Papa? It’s fuckin’ cold out there,” Dewdrop said, his tail lazily thumping the floor. 
“Of course, ghoul. Are you making yourself nice and toasty for the others?” Copia chuckled while gathering some logs and tossing them into the flames, making them bigger. 
“Sure am. You want first dibs on cuddles?” Dewdrop asked, making space in the fireplace for him.
“Ah, maybe later. You get your warm rest and I’ll see you later.”
Dewdrop didn’t say anything else as he got comfortable with the new logs that hissed and sizzled around him. He was completely at peace in the fire and Copia was certain the rest of the pack would be all over him once they were done playing in the snow. Copia looked forward to joining that nice warm pile.
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1-victoria-1 · 3 hours ago
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Can I request for homicipher? Especially Mr Silvair maybe a one shot or relationship headcanons? I barely see content of him 😭 I will be very grateful I give you my liver now 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 HAVE A NICE DAY
I will gladly write for Mr Silvair but please keep your liver, i hope you also have a nice day dear anon ^^
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Mr Silvair x Reader
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- Mr Silvair is probably really clueless about what a relationship is or what even loving someone is but no worries with you he will learn all of that.
- If you get sick or even slightly hurt he will examine and patch you up to make sure you're alright and not hurt.
- Because you're a female you still get your period and when you suddenly one day just start whining in pain or it suddenly starts to smell like blood from you, he will take you to his examination room and keep you there until he will learn and understand what's wrong with you, and that was the day he learned about the female anatomy, he touched you literally everywhere to understand the female body.
- Mr Silvair didn't allow you to leave the room he and Mr Chopped stayed in, he didn't want you to get killed by the other ghost like Mr Scarlettela , and if you did leave the room then only with Mr Chopped or Mr Crawling.
- Speaking of, Mr Chopped and Mr Crawling are the sons of both you and Mr Silvair, you can't tell me otherwise.
- I think Mr Silvair would be the type to teach you stuff he likes, for example you literally stayed a whole day in the examination room as he was teaching you about examinations and stuff he has learned that the human body does, and you probably also taught him stuff you like or what you can do in this other world, like dancing! And he honestly loved to dance with you so you both always found time to dance together, or with Mr Chopped and Mr Crawling.
- I would think his love language would be spending quality time or physical touch because he doesn't really understand what a relationship is but his slowly getting there don't worry.
- All three Misters are teaching you their language as best as they can, so you could understand them and they could understand you , and when you learned it to your surprise they didn't have many words in their language so sometimes it was hard to explain them something or understand what they were trying to tell you but you're getting there.
_________________________________________
That's all for now, i hope you all like this little headcanon thingy, i do apologize if i wrote Mr Silvair wrong but feel free to correct me for the future writing ^^
Have a nice day!
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stormyoceans · 2 years ago
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There's a fan theory on twitter that says what if Mork somehow responsible for Day's accident and i so do not want this to happen 🥺 i want them to be completely new to each other, i want snarkiness at the start, unfamiliarity, uncomfortableness even. All this feelings transforming into acquaintance, comfort, love, acceptance. And i have a feeling bl fandom doesn't have enough critical thinking for this kind of ambiguity with its black or white thinking so no please. Tell me your thoughts dear Monica 💓
I MEAN LOVE AND LIGHT TO ALL I RESPECT EVERYONE’S TASTE AND OPINIONS BUT IM VERY MUCH WITH YOU ON THIS ANON
the thing is.. i do enjoy my fair share of angst and drama from time to time, however i do need it to be functional to the story and the characters to like it, and i just don't think that this particular plot point would serve any purpose in mork and day's relationship. don't get me wrong, im not saying that a story about character A causing a life altering accident to character B and the complex relationship that could develop between them isn't an interesting idea to explore, and i know we have no idea what p'aof wants to do so i might be wrong, but i simply don't think last twilight is gonna be this kind of story
mork being responsible for day's accident would also become part of a series of more.. 'controversial' topics that i tend to have a lot of reservations about, mainly for two reasons:
1) while it's true that the fandom tends to have a very black and white mentality (and in my experience this is true for every fandom, not just the BL one), it’s also incredibly hard to write certain kind of storylines in a satisfactory way, because there are just so many things to take into account: the characters, the motivations, what you want to say as a writer, what is perceived by the viewers.... if you don't find the right balance between all these different elements, things could easily go wrong (take dan killing sean's dad in not me, for example: the writers wanted us to sympathize with both characters, but the issue lacked any kind of resolution because they clearly didn't know how to give it a proper one, which only ended up disappointing and dividing the fandom even more)
2) i do understand how this kind of.. extremely dramatic stories can be appealing or even seem more realistic to people, but on one hand i always thought that if i wanted realism i would just watch the news instead of a BL show, and on the other i often find that overdramatic plot points usually add very little to the story itself, except creating unnecessary complications that are hard to deal with. tian not being behind the wheel of the car that killed torfun in a tale of a thousand stars doesn't lessen the guilt that he feels for being somehow responsible for her death, and wen not cheating on alan in moonlight chicken doesn't make their relationship any less complicated (i actually think that showing how you can fall out of love with someone and finding it hard to let them go because in a way you still care about them is far more compelling than a cheating plot, but that's a whole other matter). similarly, i don't think that mork not being responsible for day's accident would take something out of their story
from what we saw in the trailer i think last twilight is gonna be about two very different people being thrown together by circumstances and helping each other rediscovering themselves and life and a future that they didn't think they could have, and like you said that's what i want to see
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coffeeshib · 1 year ago
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Hi! I’ve recently visited your page again, after a longer tumblr break and saw your posts about people’s comments on your fics. It made me both sad and angry. Sad because they’ve managed to take away your joy for writing Supercorp and angry that people feel like they can type out any hurtful thought that goes through their head, for a thing that is absolutely free and made with so much passion and care. 😒🤬
For what it’s worth, I always loved the way you write both of them. AND the fact that you don’t ignore Kara’s trauma and struggles. “i’m spilling all my words (but you keep 'em to yourself)” will forever be one of my favorites. Thank you for the hours of joy and fun you have given us! I hope you know that for every entitled commenter there are ten times more people who love your works! 🫵🏻🤘🏻
ahh thank you so much, i appreciate this. i have to say, sc still has me by the neck, i do plan to finish that fic & maybe write some more but it won't be anytime soon. i had hoped that the fandom would calm down with the kara hate after the show ended but i was wrong, it still hasn't changed.
when you've been writing for sc for so long, the frustration builds up, & there have been many times where i felt like i needed to (& did) restrict myself when writing them. it stops being enjoyable when people are constantly calling kara 'stupid' & insult her in many different ways for not being the happy sunshine kara danvers who takes care of lena all the time.
personally i love reading & writing the reverse situation (lena who's being the patient loving one & also the shoulder for kara to lean on) because the show didn't give us enough of that. unfortunately, people don't respond well whenever kara is struggling with her issues & lena isn't the one who's being comforted.
i write what i like & that's what i'm always going to do, but this build up of frustration over the past years & always anticipating kara hate every fic/chapter killed the joy a lot.
i've seen some authors speak about this too & it's genuinely sad to see! people can like & dislike whatever but it's important to note that there are readers out there who don't realize that their personal feelings against kara also affect authors & their love for writing supercorp
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sherlock-is-ace · 1 year ago
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Bestie, you have to stop being so self-deprecating. In the past like 24 hours I saw you degrade yourself multiple times for different things in the tags. I get it, I 100% do, but you wouldn't say those things about anyone's else art or abilities. You don't have to love the things you create, but maybe start to see that they still have merit to others, and yourself as an outlet if nothing else. Even if you're not that proud of the end result. A more neutral approach, and maybe in the future it could even become positive. I'm sorry for overstepping, I also don't expect or want any response to this, but maybe you can show yourself a little kindness now and then, rewire your brain that way, bc it's going to poison every little thought otherwise. I'm fighting the same fight, so I know it's hard
omg anon you're the sweetest ever, i'm tearing up. Thank you so so much for this, what's scariest is that I didn't even notice... You are so right tho, I know you are and I very much appreciate the reminder.
It's hard and it takes time, but we can do this.
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seohwang · 2 years ago
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I think I found your account at least a few months ago, and I was upset that I hadn't liked your fic or followed your account, but you can't even begin to imagine the absolute joy I felt when I found it again today! I followed so fast, I'm so happy!
Your fics are honestly so wonderful and easy to get lost in! The way you write is so grounding and rooted in a very homey and comfortable- there's more i feel about your writing, I'm just having a hard time wording it lol but I think the best word to describe it would be safe. Yeah, I think that's it~ I feel like I'm safe within the spaces of your fics, and there aren't a lot of fics that give this feeling ☺️
Hi!! I'm really glad you found me again!! And I'm even happier to hear that you enjoy my fics this much!!!! Also, don't worry about not being able to find the right words, even with your description as is I could feel my heart melting whenever I went to re-read your message, haha.
Honestly, while I do enjoy reading some good smut every now and then, I've always been more interested in the fluffy, hurt/comfort-esque genre of fanfics. And for the exact same reasons you described as well! I love to read fics whenever I want to just relax and feel safe and warm, but with the overwhelming surge of pwp smut and overly strong relationship dynamics in a lot of fics, I was having trouble finding anything that would suit my tastes lately. And so, I decided to start writing my own stuff in hopes that it would reach people with the same preferences.
I wasn't sure if many people would be interested at first, considering how scarce smutless stories seem to be sometimes, but the support I've been receiving has been nothing but incredible!! Whenever I hear how my fics make others feel all safe and comfortable, I genuinely can't feel happier. It's one thing to have people read your work, but having them enjoy it exactly for the same reasons you're writing it is amazing.
So really, thank you so much for your message, and I hope you'll like the continuation of my previous fic that's coming out tomorrow <3
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softshuji · 2 years ago
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It's Valentines day my dear girlfriend, are you ready?
-Shion
Oh, Happy Valentine's babe, Ready for what though? Am I to expect something?
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e-m-ma-lmfao · 1 year ago
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I have a request for Astarion ! What if reader is usually the one being seduced by Astarion (because that's how he is) but reader one day does the very chivalrous hand kissing to Astarion after maybe protecting him from an enemy?
Rizz if you will.
It's Called Chivalry, Darling
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pairing : astarion x (gn) reader
summary : astarion makes a point to be chivalrous so you return the favour to distract him from being worried.
warnings :talk about weapons and fighting, reader gets hurt.
a/n: thanks sm for your request :). i tried my hardest to execute this idea, i hope you like it anon :0 (i have not played baldurs gate)
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“I think we could stock up there. ” You point to a row of buildings, signs practically unreadable, grabbing the attention of the others in your group. They all hum in agreement before heading off in their own directions. The only store you assume you’ll be needing is a general store, so you head in that direction. 
You reach for the handle but someone else's hand beats you to it, pulling it open for you. Turning to look, you make eye contact with the ever handsome Astarion, smirk tugging at his lips. 
“Why’re you opening the door for me? What do you want?” You point an accusatory finger in his face, causing him to chuckle. His laugh is so soft it almost makes you drop your finger. 
“It’s called chivalry, my dear. You aren’t familiar?” He follows behind you as you enter the store, rolling your eyes at him. The store is mostly empty, besides a few men looking through the wares available. But even with all the open space for him to walk, Astarion seems to tail you as if the store is crowded. 
“Ooh get some more of that stuff, remember you used it on me? It made that cut on my arm feel like nothing.” He points from behind you at a healing balm in a small, glass jar. You stop in your tracks to grab it, causing Astarion to push into your back, and you look back at him with a confused stare. 
“Why’d you stop? ” His brows are furrowed, face close to yours.
“Why are you walking so close to me?”
“I just can’t stand to be far from you, my love,” He places his hand on his chest dramatically, voice incredibly theatrical as if he wasn’t already dramatic enough. You're sure that people in the store are shooting glances your way but, unusually, you can't bring yourself to care.
Not when Astarion is looking down at you with playful eyes and a giddy smile on his face. He looks so sweet like this, so free of worry and attitude, his guard is down. But you can't let him realize your thoughts, so before he could even notice your staring you force your face to remain as stoic as before.
You once again roll your eyes then continue your search for anything the group may need. Once you finish you head towards the door, making a point to open the door for yourself which causes Astarion to grunt in disapproval. 
The group finds each other once more and you head out of town, fully prepared for what might be ahead. At least that's what you think, maybe a stupid thought considering you're never truly safe on this perilous journey.
As you travel along the trail, your group seems to split off into its own smaller groups. Whispering and laughing with eachother, making far too much noise in your opinion. And Astarion, slowly trickling from the front all the way to the back where you're walking, finds his place beside you. 
“Why do you always walk so far towards the back? That’s a dangerous position for someone as small as you, no one to keep you safe from behind.” He chuckles to himself as he notices your brows furrow. 
“There’s nobody to annoy me either.” His hand flys to his chest, pretending to be hurt once more, his pace faltering ever so slightly then catching up with you again. 
“Ouch. How you wound me so with your cold words darling.” 
“Astarion, if you wish to accompany me in the back I’d appreciate if..” Your sentence is cut off with a yelp of surprise as you trip over a dip in the road, stumbling forwards. But you don’t fall very far, Astarion’s hand gripping onto your wrist and pulling you towards him. Your chest hits his, and you take a moment to regain your bearings before taking a step away from him.
He raises your hand, still in his grip, up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on the top of your knuckles, “You must be more careful, darling. Don’t want you getting hurt.” 
You know your face is pink, you can feel it, and the smirk on his face solidifies your worry, but you remain composed and give him a simple nod as you pull your hand away. 
“Shall I hold your hand to ensure you don’t trip again?”
“In your dreams, fangs.” He smiles, it's always so soft during these moments, and the sight alone almost causes you to take back your words and give in to his offer, but you stand your ground and keep your hands close to your hips. Astarion lets out a small laugh at this.
You continue to walk in peaceful silence, Astarion making small quips so the air is never truly silent around you. You've come to realize that Astarion can't stand silence whenever he's around you, and he makes a point to keep the noise level up. But when his tone shifts, and he becomes quieter, you take a peak around. You notice that the group is much closer than before but you don’t mind. Safety in numbers and what not. 
But something feels off. It’s eerily quiet. Not even the whistle of a bird and you swear the wind has stopped entirely. And you think the rest of your group notices as well, perhaps the reason that they had moved closer was so they wouldn’t be caught off guard. Their hands stay on their weapons ready to take them out. 
And then it happens. A group of goblins jump from the surrounding forest and circle around your party. Usually something as small a threat as a goblin would be no problem but in such large numbers they might prove to be a problem. When they initiate a fight, thrusting their blades towards you, you draw your blade. 
Slowly, you pick off goblins, one by one. They’re stronger than you expected and their weapons are much nicer than the ones you had encountered in the past. But you keep your guard up and they’re unable to land a blow on you. It’s when the amount of goblins in front of you is reduced that your guard is let down even the slightest. And your focus shifts. Not the smartest move.
You look around you, realizing that Astarion is no longer by your side.
In your state of distraction, a goblin is able to strike you, leaving a relatively large cut on your arms and cutting the arm of your shirt into a tattered piece. The pain causes you to refocus for a moment, just enough to kill the goblin before you look back towards Astarion.
When your eyes reach his position, your heart drops to your stomach. He is completely surrounded and you're certain that he is unaware just how shitty his situation is. So without a second thought, you leave the goblins in front of you behind, and rush over to him. 
Swinging your blade with as much force as you can muster, you kill the goblins behind him and grab his wrist to pull him out of his unfortunate position. You kill another, after ensuring he is no longer in the way. The two of you pick the goblins off together, standing back to back. And when the fight is over you finally allow yourself a moment to breathe. 
But it doesn’t last long. 
Astarion pushes at your shoulder, causing you to stumble forward, you hardly catch yourself but you do. When you’ve found your footing you straighten up, turning to him with furrowed brows, “What was that for?” 
“Why would you do that?” His tone is so aggressive it catches you off guard, “You could’ve gotten hurt! How could you be so irresponsible? Look at your arm, Gods!"
He holds your arm in his hands, hesitating for a moment before ripping off a piece of his own shirt. Gently, he pushes the arm of your shirt up to uncover your wound and begins to wrap the piece of cloth around the wound with shaky fingers, muttering curse words under his breath.
“You could’ve been killed Astarion! I would’ve gladly gotten hurt in order to prevent that.” You try to keep your cool. The pain is hardly noticeable with the amount of adrenaline pumping through your body. And you honestly find yourself more worried about him being angry with you Obviously, he’s yelling in your face, but it might just be shock getting to him. 
“Why would you do that for me? That is absolutely ridiculous.” He huffs, throwing his hands in the air, then allows them to fall back down to his sides. And an idea suddenly enters you brain. 
Slowly, with caution to not annoy him further, you reach for his still shaky hand. He stares at you, brows furrowed, but he doesn’t pull away. Gently, you place your lips against his bloodied knuckles, making an effort not to hurt his already irritated skin.
“It’s called chivalry, Astarion. You aren’t familiar?” You notice the smallest change in his eyes as they soften, even a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He isn’t mad, just worried. And you know that all the annoyance has fled his body at your attempt to make fun of him and his flirtatious remarks. Honestly, he's a little flattered you remember what he said, and flustered from you playing his own game against him.
You take a step closer, placing a hand on the side of his face to pull him in closer, to plant a soft kiss to his cheekbone. His curls touch your fingertips, and you take the opportunity to play with his soft hair for a moment. When you pull away, a pink tint lingers on his skin, allowing color to flow on his beautiful face. “You know I don’t want you getting hurt.”
This time he lets out a soft laugh, “That’s enough, darling. I understand what you’re doing, you can stop mocking me.” He turns away from you, but you rush to his side, wrapping your hands around his arms. You lean into him, resting your head near his shoulder as you look up at him.
“Shall I hold onto you so you don’t trip, my dear?” You mock his usual flirty tone, and he pushes your head away gently in an attempt to hide the color rushing to his face, ruffling your hair up.
“What, I'm not allowed to flirt with you but you can do it to me?”
"That's exactly right, my dear."
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pearlymel · 4 months ago
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I don’t know if your request are open rn but I was wondering if you can do Boothill, Gallagher, and Argenti, and Aventurine with an Actor reader, considered the silver screen queen of Penacony and The Robin of “Film”.
If you need inspo, I was thinking the vibe and style of Judy Garland, Audrey Hepburn, and Marilyn Monroe. (No pressed)
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Synopsis : you're the famous person they fell in love with.
Includes : Boothill, Argenti, Aventurine, and Gallagher.
Notes : afab!reader, no pronouns except being called "princess" in Aventurine's. Sfw, All fluff. My dear anon i hope this was what you requested (from what i understood.) Ty for the request, it was pretty creative. Quick reminder that my requests are closed for now!! This is just old requests im trying to finish. feel free to send in your thoughts or thirsts instead. ♡
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↳ AVENTURINE.
You were in the acting industry, a known star across penacony that everyone would scream to have a picture with.
Fairly, you don't even know how you ended up with this gambler. Despite you having the money, he still spoils you rotten.
Aventurine is not surprised (or he acts to) that he managed to bag you with his charmness, even though internally he was just one of your die hard fans at heart.
To this day, he's still confused how you returned back his feelings.
Like many other times, Aventurine leads you out of a shopping mall. He’s carrying some bags, and he always makes sure to pick out the heaviest ones to show off how strong he was. He always liked to make a show of his wealth, especially with you.
“You bought so many things today,” he grins. “What’s the matter? Is your current wardrobe that empty?”
"Just things for my family, and you, of course." You grin back.
You didn't expect Aventurine to spoil you at some yacht this time, he puts an arm around you and guides you forwards. All formal butler's at your service, bowing down elegantly just right outside of it. It’s expensive—he wouldn’t dare to spend money on anything less perfect, after all.
He makes a habit of keeping his hand close to the small of your back. He likes to feel the warmth of your body, the way your clothes feel against his touch. He hums lowly from beside you. “I have a surprise for you,” he comments, his tone low and teasing.
"You're full of surprises today."
“Only the best for a diva like you,” he responds back. He can’t help the smirk on his face as he leads you towards the yacht. He’s certainly proud, because he knows how perfect it is. Every part of the exterior is luxurious to suit your taste.
Aventurine climbs on it and holds a hand out for you. “Careful while you board. You don’t want to trip and ruin your pretty face, don’t you?”
You roll your eyes playfully, taking his hand in a firm grip, "Oh don't be dramatic."
He guides you up the small set of steps and grins, his thumb running over your knuckles.
Aventurine leads you further into the cabin. It’s clean and spacious, a large bed on one side. There’s a door leading to a bathroom, and a large screen on one wall.
He sets the bags down and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the empty side of the bed while giving you a smile. “Come here, princess.”
You laugh, dashing towards him and jumping right on him, pushing both of you down on the bed and he grunts dramatically, but laughs along with you. His hands move to rest on your waist, pulling you closer to him.
He adjusts himself so he’s laying on the bed with you on top of him, and his eyes soften.
"I'm happy," you start, "It's not about this, how thankful i am to be experiencing this. But i love spending every moment with you, the good and bad."
Oh, stop giving him that expression. He's going to melt and giggle like a highschooler.
“And I love spoiling you,” he answers. “I love making you feel loved and appreciated because it’s what you deserve. Especially after dealing with me, princess.” he finishes it off softly, pressing a delicate kiss to your cheek.
"Sooo, you rented this yacht just for both of us to enjoy the view and eat good food?"
"Do you like it? Y'know what, scratch that. I'll buy the yacht if you love it. So we can come back here everytime."
↳ ARGENTI.
To you, You were just a normal dancer, following your love and passion for this field.
To Argenti, you were the most elegant, and beautiful human to ever have the pleasure of laying his eyes on.
He has been admiring you, at a distance, for a while. So when this gentleman approached you on his knee with a rose on his hand, you were pretty shocked and flustered.
"I apologise if I startled you," Argenti gently spoke as he offered the rose, his voice smooth and warm like velvet, his redish-green eyes locking onto yours. "But your beauty caught my eye while you were dancing. It is not often that I am rendered speechless, but your grace in every movement bewitched me."
You take the single rose from his hand with a wide smile, your thumb and forefinger toying with the stem and rolling it as you lift it and near it to your lips and nose to inhale it's fragrance.
"I love it," you whisper in awe.
Argenti's heart melted further as he observed your smile and the way you brought the flower up to your face. It was like a vision straight out of a dream for him, and it fuelled the desire within his heart even more.
"It brings me joy to see you like this," the knight replied, "Might I have the honour of knowing your name?"
And you utter your name out, the words leaving your tongue like it was made of silk.
A name as beautiful as the one bearing it, he thought to himself. "A name that reflects your grace and elegance," he responded, "As for myself, I am called Argenti. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"You may stand up, dear Argenti."
Argenti's heart fluttered at your endearing address towards him, and he immediately obliged to your request. He rose to stand up, his stature proud and imposing.
"As you command, my dear" he voiced, his gaze remaining on you. He made a subtle, respectful bow.
That day, you agreed to go on this little date with him, courting you was his next goal.
The sun finally settled beneath the horizon, casting the world into the soft, silver-tinted embrace of night. A gentle breeze gently ruffled his hair, the faint scent of the rose you held earlier wafting around.
"It appears our meeting is coming to an end, isn't it?" Argenti mused as he silently studied your delicate features, silently committing the image to memory. "Thank you for taking me out today, Argenti."
"It is my pleasure to have spent this time with you." He whispered back, ending it with a murmur of your name.
"This evening has been a moment of clarity for me. May I have the privilege of seeing you again sometime in the future?"
↳ GALLAGHER.
Gallagher was secretly your lover, despite his status as a bodyguard to you; the famous popstar singer.
You chuckle to yourself when you watch how he talked off some unwanted guests prying at your personal business, which was just drinking at some small coffee shop.
Gallagher sensed your amusement, catching your smile in his peripheral vision. He took a step closer to you, his hand resting discreetly on the small of your back. "Something funny, pretty?" He spoke first, his voice low enough for only you to hear.
"Just the scene of you handling the situation is amusing." You say before taking a long sip from your drink. He gave a subtle scoff, his lips forming a wry half-smile. He knew that he probably looked like a protective dog, "just doing my job," he replied in a lax tone.
"Because you're my bodyguard or because you're jealous?"
"Both," he muttered, his eyes flickering over the place, still scanning for potential threats. "I'm your bodyguard, so it's my job to keep others from getting too close. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little...jealous."
You pat his shoulder, looking around before resting your chin on his shoulder, "I'm all yours, nothing to be jealous of." you whisper into his ear.
Gallagher's firm expression softened even further at your reassurance. Your words reassured him deeply, erasing any traces of jealousy from his features.
"You're damn right about that," his hand moving from your back to subtly wrap around your waist, as he drew your seat a little closer. "You're all mine, no one else's."
"And if they start being suspicious of our relationship?"
His grip on your waist tightened slightly, his expression growing a bit more serious as he considered your question. "They can speculate all they want," he shrugged, his eyes flickering over the quiet area before returning to you. "S’not like we're doing anything wrong. I'm your bodyguard, but I can't help how I feel about you. There's no harm in a little...physical closeness. No one's going to catch on as long as we keep it subtle."
And it was your turn for you to turn all soft, "you know.. i wouldn't care if they find out. I'll gladly show you off to the world."
↳ BOOTHILL.
"My love, this is too much."
"Too much? Nah."
But Boothill's demeanor changes as he senses your guilt, your guilt of recieving loads of expensive clothes and gifts just for you. His strong hands gently grip your shoulders, his gaze fixed on you. He hated whenever you tried to protest or object to his generous gestures.
Leaning in a little closer, he adds in a soft voice, "It's not too much if it's for you, darlin'. You deserve everythin' that money can buy. So don't you dare feel bad, alright?"
Everything he brought to you was to your taste, as a fashion designer. How did he even manage to get these majestic attires for you?
"It's my turn to spoil you, i will make sure to look pretty for you." You promise, and his heart skips a beat at your promise to make yourself look beautiful for him. He gives a low chuckle, "Darlin', you're already the most radiant sight a fella like me could ever want." He steps a little closer, his eyes roaming over you for a moment, taking in the sight of you.
"But I'll still be lookin' forward to seein' you all dolled up," he adds with a sly smile.
And you do, entering the bathroom to change then coming out and giving him a private show of you modelling the clothes he got you.
He lets out a low whistle, a smirk on his face as he takes in the sight of you. His eyes roam over your form, appreciating the curves and the elegance you exude.
Boothill's jaw practically hits the floor.
"My sweet darlin', you look like a vision straight from my wildest dreams."
"Mhmm, and you're the chosen man."
"And I've never been more grateful for that title in my life, darlin'. You look like a piece of heaven right here in my arms."
You roll your eyes at his words, your hands on his shoulders as you look down at his seating figure, "You're exaggerating."
Boothill lets out a hearty laugh, enjoying the banter between you. He playfully pulls you even closer, his hands roaming unabashedly over the curves of your body.
"Exaggerating? Sweetheart, I may have a flair for the dramatic, but in this case, I speak nothin' but the truth." His eyes roam over you once again, "You could be wearin' a potato sack, and you'd still be the most beautiful sight to my eyes."
You narrow your eyes at the idea, "i will wear that potato sack next time."
He grins, "and I'd still be achin' to get up close and personal, darlin'." he says, his voice low and sultry.
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arthenaa · 11 months ago
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my love mine all mine— mizu x f! reader
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synopsis: marriage is nigh for someone your age and with society's expectations of you, how long will you have to keep waiting for him?
content: 18+ nsfw, mdni, angst w comfort, fluff, she/her pronouns for reader, he/she pronouns for mizu, patriarchal views on women, arranged marriage, jealousy, use of sex toys, idiots in love
a/n: part 2 of nocturne (interlude)!! this is for that anon who was on their finals week (ur req got deleted i h8 tumblr) and to those who requested for a part 2 !!! a reward for your hard work
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Your relationship with Mizu was ... interesting.
After what happened that day, your relationship progressed into a deeper sense of connection. He was attracted to you as much as you were attracted to him. A fact that made your fingers tingle with anticipation every time he came down to your village under the guise of getting more medicine.
Your father had no complaints as business is business and provided him with what he needed, although you could see the occassional side eyes that your father gives him every time he stays longer than he was supposed to be. It was a comical sight indeed.
Mizu helped you out as much as he could—whether it be mundane house chores or taxing ones that require hard labor or a change of locations, he was down to accompany you in any way.
While yes, his efforts of providing you aid sent a surge of butterflies down your stomach, what ultimately led you to hammering a nail in the coffin was the subtle touches that he gave you.
You knew he knew and he knew that he was being smug about it. While it didn't show on his face, his eyes told it all. Whether it be passing by and gently placing a hand on the small of your back to excuse himself out of your way as if there wasn't a 2-meter space to your right or the brushing of fingers when he lent you something or if he's being bold enough, especially when your father's not looking, outright pretending that there was a fabric stuck on your hairpin and so he leans in close to you only to place a kiss on your cheek—he always has to have some sort of skinship with you during the day. It often left you struggling for words or having a flushed face.
"Dear," Your father furrows his eyebrows as he eyes your flushed cheeks. You tense in his gaze as he glances at Mizu who appears calm as he takes a sip of his drink. The blue-eyed samurai had done it again—saw an opening and took it like he was meant for it. He fooled you into thinking that your hair was out of place and offered to fix it. Your father had stepped out to get the food and you had hoped that he stayed somehow so that you wouldn't have to deal with all this bullcrap. Mizu took the chance to grab your chin and place a kiss on your lips. Your father came back shortly and you haven't relaxed since. "You don't look alright. Do you want me to—?"
"I-It's fine, Dad!" You intercept, hands raised as you shake no. "The soup was just... hot."
You glance at Mizu who looks at you from the side of his eye. He smirks over his cup.
It was safe to say that Mizu was also mischievous by nature. Despite his usual calm and cool demeanor, you didn't expect the man before you to be quite playful when it came to just between the two of you.
You did all these things, said all those things, looked at each other with things unspoken of and you're quite sure that your relationship was susceptible to the one thing you're quite sure would lead to.
Marriage.
A want for some, a necessity for many. You'd think that in your years of living in this town that you'd find a partner suitable for marriage and you did! Just a little bit later than others.
You had expected that... Mizu would propose. After all, what comes after dating but marriage? Your father and mother did that, your aunts, uncles, cousins, hell, even your friends already got married albeit some of them out of their own will.
You dreamed of having a true love marriage. One that you could be yourself and never have to be ashamed of loving someone despite their stature in life. One that you could coexist with and that could never demean your existence as a woman. You knew those things were far fetched from reality but everyone wishes to dream right?
You had tried discreetly asking about it, curious as to why he barely mentions anything but he only casts you an unreadable look on his face then a soft smile.
He kissed the back of your hand with a gentle touch, softness mirroring that of a snowflake's descent.
"... I can't," He says. You're not sure as to why he sounded in pain, like something was troubling him but you knew better than to pry. "Not right now."
So you let it go.
It was times like this that you felt the other half of the relationship. Like there was still a barrier you couldn't decipher between you. Why he often looks secretive with your father at times or why he falls silent at the most random of moments. There was something you didn't know and it often aches you that you couldn't be able to understand him unless you knew the inner workings of his mind.
The first instance that brought up the onslaught of problems that would soon arise was the arrival of a proposal from the south. It came in the form of a letter, writings neatly imprinted on fine parchment—rolled with the delicacy that of a noble.
You could see your father's nervous glance as the messenger read what was sent to him. You could hear bits and pieces of the arrangement, hands wringing each other in anxiety as your eyes trained on your father's back. Mizu had not arrived that day and normally, you would fret over such things but your father casts a glance at you over his shoulder and suddenly everything seems to have changed its course.
"Father," You pant as you gather the ends of your kimono, trying to match the pace of your patriarch as he travels all over the house. He seems to not be at rest from the talk with the messenger—a perpetual stone-cold look plastered on his face. "Father!"
He enters the part of your house you haven't gone to in ages. Not because you despised it but because you were afraid that the spirit that once dwelled in its abode would arise and look at you with those same eyes that once held all the love and memories when you were but a wee girl. You hesitate at the entrance but decide to follow him through.
"Not right now, Y/N," He mumbles, agitated as he crouches over a chest and begins digging through the array of clothes. Your eyebrows furrow.
"What—What did he say?" You stammer as you stand to his left, eyes watching his every move as he frantically rummages through the fabrics. "Father, I have—I need to know."
Your father pauses, defeatedly slumping against the chest as his fingers tap against the wooden surface in thought. Silence ensues between the two of you and suddenly he turns to you with a sympathetic look on his face. Your blood runs cold.
"Lord Shimizu—" He pauses, catching himself stammering as he looked into those eyes that were fruition of shared dreams and a love he hasn't forgotten in ages. "He asked for your hand in marriage."
You stare at him with a shaky gaze, breath going in and out as you tried to process his response.
"Then-Then tell him no," Your eyebrows furrow. Your father falls silent at your words. "Tell him like you've always told the others."
"I can't, Y/N," He whispers, tone shifting into despair. Your shoulders are low as he lowers his head in shame.
"What do you mean you can't?"
"I can't," He emphasizes his words once more, eyes darting up to meet yours. "I have always tried to protect you but I can't this time."
Your face falls in desperation as you kneel down with him. You grab his hands in an attempt to convince him once more.
"Father, please, I can't—I don't even know him!" You plead as your grip on his callous fingers tightens. He looks at you with sadness. "Please Father, I'll do anything, just don't—"
"Y/N," He cuts you off with a stern voice. You fall silent as you wait for his response. "This man is from Kyoto. While the men here fear my stature as a medic, this man has access to professionals far greater than me. He doesn't regard me as someone important and if I dare raise my voice, we might as well be dead."
Your figure tenses at his words. He grabs your arms in an attempt to comfort you. In a last attempt to get him to decline the offer, you say the thoughts that have been at the forefront of your mind.
"I'm in love with Mizu," Your voice comes out in a whisper, eyes wide and tears welling up. He tenses at your confession, eyebrows furrowing at the implications.
"You—"
"Father, I love him." Your voice comes out in a desperate attempt to get him to see you. Your hands raise to touch his arm but he suddenly raises to his feet, taking a few steps back. Your heart speeds up at his reaction.
"Is that why he—?" Your father whispers out in thought. You're not sure if he was angry or disappointed, but you're quite sure that this was a bad thing. His face contorts into a look of anger as he continues to look at you with a hardened gaze. "When was this?"
"You told me you wanted me to have a true love marriage, Father—This is it!" You look up at him with a defiance so strong that it almost gives your father a whiplash of how similar it looked. He falters in his stance but remains rooted to his cause.
"I know but not to—!" He catches himself at the end of his sentence. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. He runs a hand through his face before sighing. "Not like this. Not to him. Not Mizu, Y/N."
Your eyebrows furrow in anger at his words. "You can't dictate what I feel for him."
There's a moment of silence as your father casts you an unreadable look on his face. You thought that your father might approve of Mizu. They after all started at the same steps and eventually grew to the path they were destined for, albeit in different fields. You're not quite sure as to what led to this defiance against your choice for marriage but it already has you intruiged.
"The messenger talks of praises of Lord Shimizu," Your father diverts the conversation. "I also hear that he is a general and part of the Emperor's Kingsguard. He is of noble stature and earned his keep. He is a man fitting of your deserving."
You fall silent at his words before finally rising to your height and dusting off your kimono. You glance at the chest, eyeing the white fabric that pops out of an array of multicolored ones. You turn back to your father.
"You raised me to not be a hypocrite," Your voice is stone cold. Your father flinches at the tone. "I expected you to not be one as well."
With that you left.
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The days were grueling.
Presents after presents were sent to your doorstep and while you wish that you could throw them all away, your father accepted them and kept them in the storage, still neatly wrapped for you to open.
Mizu had also arrived less and less over the past couple of days. He usually stays for more than an hour but now he leaves within the 30-minute mark. You felt like your time had been severed into bits and pieces after your fight with your father. You saw them talking, hushed in the receiving area. You expected your father to berate him for influencing his own daughter but their relationship remained civil. In fact, after his talk with your father was what prompted fewer visits and only coming for business.
He also became distant. Little to no skinship—sometimes even none at all. He talks to you in that cold tone of his and even grunts in annoyance when you try to bother him into coming with you to window shop in town.
You thought they were being unfair. That they could freely do things like this beyond your knowledge. Watch you crumble into a pit of despair at the concept of what you believed was the essence of true love. How naïve were you.
The final straw came when Mizu stayed a little bit longer than usual. He was swift with his purchase but remained seated at the tree located just outside your humble abode.
You approached him with soft steps, eyes trained on his head devoid of his kasa and the usual orange tinted glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome.
"Why are you like this?" Your voice cuts through the silence, direct and swift as a breeze passes through you. You see the familiar curl on his forehead, swishing back and forth before settling down.
Mizu does not reply for a few seconds before finally responding. "Like what?"
Your breath shakes at his nonchalance. "Like everything's back from the start."
Mizu pauses before turning his head to look at you standing behind him. There's a long duration of silence between you, eyes only locked with each other as the breeze fills in the void.
"Y/N," Your name escapes his lips like a prayer. You will yourself not to fold. "I didn't mean to—"
"Didn't mean to what?"
He rises up from his seat on the ground, grabbing his Kasa in the process. He examines the item, eyeing the material woven intricately to form its shape. You could tell that there were a lot of things in his mind. You could only wait until he decided to break down the walls he built up so high.
"I didn't mean it to be this way." He finally looks at you in the eye, those beautiful shades of blue hidden by a tint of orange. He pauses himself before a change of expression is plastered on his face. "I think it's best if we stop here."
Your breath hitches. "What?"
"I said what I said," He mutters in that neutral tone of his, devoid of emotion. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I... I am on a journey and I have wishes to accomplish. I operate on circumstances that prove to be unlawful. It's best that you don't associate yourself with me. I was too distracted to begin with."
Distracted? Is that what he thought all of this was about? Your hands shake in anger as your eyes darted any sort of giveaway that he might just be joking with you. The world was pinning its blame on your shoulders and now you have to receive the consequences of its actions.
You purse your lips, stopping yourself from bawling then and there. You can't give him the satisfaction of seeing yourself in a mess. You refuse.
You turn around without responding, making hasty steps towards your home before halting once more. You turn to see him putting on his Kasa, eyes in a daze. Upon feeling your stare at him, he turns back towards you. His gaze falters.
"I'm sorry." He says.
You could never will out the words you should've said.
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Lord Shimizu came on the 3rd day of the week. He wasn't what you expected him to be.
Naturally, nobles of that standing would appear to be egocentric maniacs who dabbled and flaunted their wealth in various entertainment establishments. They act crass and speak crass as if their authority gives them the pass to be an asshole to everybody.
You thought to yourself, this man could have anybody that he wanted. He was a general, a skilled warrior, and a candidate for marriage to Japan's array of elegant and noble women. Why would he pick a humble medic's daughter all the way from Takayama?
Well, the answer finally came to you in flesh instead.
"L-Lord Shimizu!" Your father stammers over his words as a young man, your age enters the establishment. You take a step back towards the panel of the receiving area, slightly shielding yourself from the onslaught of 3-4 men entering the place. "I didn't expect you to be here."
The man does not respond yet, his eyes wander the interior of the establishment before finally settling on you. You flinch back at the intensity of his stare. Your father notices his attention on you before clearing his throat.
"Y/N?" He calls over, eyes meeting with yours as he beckons you over. You grumble under your breath before making hesitant steps to your father's side. "Ah yes, this is Y/N Gojo. My daughter. Y/N, this is Lord Shimizu Kaito."
Your eyes peer up at him underneath your lashes, trying to take a peek at his face. Shimizu flashes you a soft smile before bowing in greeting.
"Apologies for not having been able to meet before. The Emperor had requested me to attend to several cases in various cities. I hope that you and Y/N can forgive my tardy appearance." His voice is proper and elegant but you could only scoff at his words. Apparently, it was loud enough for him, your father, and the two other guards stationed behind him to hear. Your father elbows your waist.
"Apologies for my daughter," He sheepishly smiles. "She seems to have a... cold."
He eyes you with a strict look on his face which you turn to look away at. Just as you wished for all of this to be over, a wave of a hand catches your attention. You turn to look at Shimizu who softly smiles at you once more.
"I know this proposal is sudden but I hope you can give me a chance." He says, voice and tone genuine. You hesitantly purse your lips at his words. "I'll be staying around this time. I hope I can get to know you."
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Lord Shimizu stayed true to his word. The past few days were nothing but him trying to get to know you as an individual. He was nice, accommodating, and even dare say, a proper friend you could talk to.
He helped you out in chores, got you gifts, had tea with you, learned your ways, and walked with you in town. If you were the person you were before, you could've deemed this man the perfect match for you.
While you appreciated his eagerness in wanting to get to know you, you also can't help but be reminded of a certain blue-eyed boy every time he did something remotely similar. He talks of his travels, his blade, his peers, his interests, and you're brought back to the time Mizu let you hold his blade in your palms, brought you trinkets from his previous adventure, talked to you about his annoying apprentice, or that he prefers his soba to have a little bit more soup in ratio to his noodles.
Everything remind you of him.
Mizu had not visited in a while. You tried asking about him to your father if he ever came to get medicine but your father denies every question.
Sometimes you catch glimpses of a familiar Kasa roaming the town streets but is only mistaken by a wandering traveler. You're not too sure how long it would take for you to lose your wits about everything.
Sensing the troubling thoughts that plagued your mind, Shimizu offered for you both to take a stroll in town at night and shop for trinkets that you might find interesting to place in your room. He tried his best to keep you entertained, asking about your interests, making you laugh, all that stuff.
The question that prompted you at the start of his arrival began to urge you to put forth a topic for conversation. You wait for Shimizu to finish his words before finally dropping the question.
"Why me?" You ask, eyes gazing into his as he halts at the question. He blinks a couple of times, not able to process the question.
"What?"
"Why me, my lord?" You repeat, hands clutching your satchel. "I am but a mere servant's daughter. You could have anyone."
He licks his lips eyebrows furrowing. "But you are someone."
You raise your eyebrows, urging for him to continue. The man takes a breath, looking around before finally settling his eyes on you.
"I..." He starts off, words trailing as he gazes into your eyes. He continues. "I came here before. As a child."
Your eyes widen at the revelation.
"People talk of a man named Gojo-sensei who was able to remedy almost all illnesses. I was sickly and my condition was worsening." He responds. The city lanterns glow beautifully behind his figure, laughter of children, men, and women alike provides solace in the void of silence between you. "I remember coming in there and seeing you. Seeing your father then..."
He trailed off like he was remembering something painful.
"I remember a lady," His face softens at the thought. Your eyebrows furrow. "While your father did the aiding, this woman had brought me comfort. I was never really coddled and treated with such gentleness back home. I was an only child—a firstborn son. Being soft and dependent was out of the vocabulary."
You fall silent at his words as he looks down at his hands.
"She... she stayed by my side. Fed me, clothed me, made sure I was okay." He looked up at you. "I saw you sometimes, clinging to the ends of her kimono."
A chilling realization surges through your veins. Your silence prompts him to continue.
"I heard the news that she passed away years ago. I wasn't able to come due to my duties but I am indebted to her." He says. "Then, when I visited a month ago. I saw you—a spitting image."
Your breath shakes at the words. "You proposed to me because I looked like my mother?"
Shimizu looks down in shame, hands wringing in nervousness. "I thought that if I married you, I'd be able to receive that same love again."
You let out a breath of disbelief. While the topic of your mother wasn't something you detested talking about, her memory still was something you were quite hesitant to approach. You remember her sickly figure, her weak smile, the day your father broke. It was as if you threaded lightly along the edges of her carved path, wanting to preserve what was left of her image.
You take a step back, eyes looking at him in disbelief. Shimizu falters in his stance.
"I'm sorry, this isn't going to work." You softly mutter, shaking your head. Just as you take another step back, Shimizu panics and tries to grab your hand.
"Y/N, let me explain I—"
A swift change of air alerts you of a new presence and suddenly you feel deja vu. You turn your head to meet the familiar stance of a man you didn't expect to see again.
"I believe she said no." Mizu's voice is authoritative and deep, hand encasing Shimizu's wrist. The man furrows his eyebrows at Mizu who squints back a glare.
"Who are you?! Your jurisdiction?" Shimizu demands. He tries to pull his wrist away only to be met by a steel force. Mizu scoffs.
"I won't let you go until you promise to stay 10 meters away from her." Mizu threatens. Shimizu sweat drops, eyes glancing down at the hand gripping his wrist to the eyes shielded by tinted glasses. Your eyes dart back and forth between the two, afraid that a fight might brawl out and you're not in the mood to see blood spilled.
Shimizu was also a general and if word comes out that one of the Emperor's trusted military aides got injured by someone lower of his stature, your father will definitely pay for the consequences. You rush towards them and grab Mizu's hand to break them apart.
"Let him go," You say. Mizu turns to you with furrowed eyebrows. Your eyes soften, and you nod softly in reassurance. "Let him go, its okay.
Mizu hesitantly lets the man go and Shimizu stumbles back, holding his wrist. Mizu turns to you in concern, hand grabbing your arm as he examines you. "Are you alright?"
You nod, flustered by his attention. "I'm fine."
Feeling Shimizu's stare on you, you look back at the man to see hurt and a realization spread across his face. Your gaze falters.
He clears his throat and fixes his stance. "Apologies, Y/N. It seems that I have miscalculated my approaches. Forgive me for my behavior."
"It's alright, my lord," You respond. Mizu stands menacingly beside you, eyes trained on his figure. Shimizu glances at him and then at you. He smiles.
"It was nice being your friend," He says. He bows as respect. You curtsy back, albeit shaky. "I'll leave as requested. I wish you luck."
He leaves without turning back. You watch as he gets lost in the crowd, the breeze gently swinging your clothes back and forth. The lanterns dazzle the streets—performing a pretense of joy. You take a breath before finally facing the last of your problems.
Mizu stands there, eyes already looking at you with an unreadable look on his face. Your eyes soften.
"What are you doing here?" You mumble, lacking the energy to even be angry. Mizu shifts in his stance.
"I came back." He answers vaguely.
"For what?"
There a pause of silence before he moves to remove his Kasa. You can see his face clearly now, albeit those beautiful eyes of his still covered by his glasses.
"For you." He says. He gulps as if nervous and your eyes widen at his confession.
"But I thought you said—"
"I was a coward," He says. He heaves a breath. "I have loved before and shown them everything and yet I have ruined them. I was afraid that I might—that I might ruin you with what I am."
You fall silent at his words. You were confused, you had already seen what others claim to be the worst of him—in fact, that was what you loved most about his features. Eyes that seem to hold the waters—a depiction of nature. Just as he is about to continue, cheers erupt from the central town, you flinch as the others begin to gather to watch the amusement happening. Mizu, sensing your uneasiness, pulls you towards a nearby alley—dark and hidden from the public eye. He places you against the wall, eyes watching for passersby that might lurk in while your eyes are trained on his face.
You watch with admiration as his eyebrows furrow in their usual curl, those eyes that squint into a glare, chapped lips, and the glasses that begin to slowly fall down the bridge of his nose. Unable to resist the urge, you give in.
"Coast is—"
Mizu's eyes widen at the feeling of your lips against his. You cup his cheeks, pulling him down as you encase your arms over his neck. Mizu wastes no time in reciprocating the kiss. He kisses back with the same fervor, hand dropping his Kasa in favor of encasing your waist as he pulls you towards his figure. You whine as you feel his tongue intertwine with yours.
After a few pecks and kisses, you both finally pull away. There's a hushed silence of panting as Mizu places his forehead against yours.
"I am not being truthful," Mizu whispers, breath hitting your lips. "But I want to try. With you."
You smile, hands cupping his cheeks as you rub your thumbs across the surface of his skin.
"I want you as you are," You reassure him. "No matter the flaw, no matter what you tell me. I'll be here with you."
Mizu lowers his head and drops it to burrow against your neck. He hugs you close as bells and instruments begin playing. He pulls back softly before facing you with vulnerability.
"I..." He starts off. "I am not what you think I am."
You tilt your head in confusion as you encase his hands in yours. Your thumbs run over the scar that you've bandaged from before.
"I'm not a... a man." Mizu finally reveals. You pause, eyes blinking as you watch his reaction for any sort of context. Mizu purses his lips before pulling his glasses away, tucking in the side of his clothing before reaching up to pull at his top knot. You watch as his hair—no, her hair flows to her shoulders and then suddenly everything makes sense.
Mizu's breath shakes at your silence. "I-I cannot give you what you want—"
She falls silent as you lean forward to take notice of her features. The flush that adorns her cheeks and the eyes that entranced you from the start. A smile bursts from your lips.
"You're just as I dreamed of," You whisper in awe. Your arms make their way to wrap around her neck as you press yourself close to her. Mizu's face flushes at your words.
Your eyes trace the edges of her features, face contorted in a soft expression. There's a moment of silence before you finally continue. "My father wanted me to have a true love marriage. All my life, the idea of falling in love has always been my dream as a child."
Mizu blinks softly at your words, listening to your every thought.
"And now that I have it, I can understand why my father wanted me to do so," You smile, leaning your forehead against hers. "Marry me, Mizu. I just want to be yours."
The blue-eyed girl erupts into a smile, leaning forward and capturing your lips in hers. You reciprocate with the same intensity, fingers burying in her raven locks. Mizu then pulls away.
"I'll always say yes to you."
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"Do we really have to do this?"
Mizu eyes your figure seated on the tatami, eyes peering up at her as she stands in front of you. You giggle at her hesitance.
"Of course!" You grin. "Consummation between man and wife is a must tradition after marriage—well in our case, wife and wife."
Mizu rolls her eyes as she sits down in front of you. She props her knee up and places her arm on top of it. She grabs the cup of tea perched on the small table beside her and takes a sip. "Consummation is done with the idea of children, love. I'm sure you're well aware of that."
You pout before an idea arises in your mind. You lean forward, going on your knees as you crawl towards her. Mizu pauses mid-sip as she watches you with careful eyes. You grab her cup, placing it down on the table as she continues to watch your every move. You settle on her lap, the slit of your kimono revealing your thighs. Mizu's breath shakes.
You take her glasses off and place them on the table before finally focusing on her, arms propped on her shoulders. You feel her hands cup your hips as you stare down at her with a smile.
"What?" You taunt. "You don't wanna fuck me?"
Mizu pauses, eyes widening before she lets out a groan and lowers her head to your clavicle. You giggle as she takes a few moments to calm herself down. Finally, pulling away to face you, Mizu looks at you with her blue eyes clouded with lust.
"You are one dangerous lady, know that?" Mizu leans forward. You grin as you rub your nose against hers.
"Mhm," You say. "My wife told me so."
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"Ah fuck! Fuck!" You whimper as you grab the sheets behind you, trying to find some sort of stability from the onslaught of ministrations Mizu's giving you. "W-Wait—Mizu-Wai—Ngh!"
You're afraid that the toy one of your close friends gave you as a congratulations gift to your marriage would be too crass for your night with Mizu. You only brought it to tease her after all. You just didn't expect how much she'd be turned on by it.
"Where are you going?" Mizu's voice is deep and taunting as she watches you claw at the sheets, trying to get away from the intense pleasure. She grabs your waist and pulls you back down towards her, folding your legs to your chest. "You wanted this, why are you backing out, hm? You wanted to consummate so here we are."
She watches as the thick girth and length of her strap pushes in and out—coated with your essence. The noises from it are slick and noisy, causing you to flush in embarrassment. God fucking damn.
"So fucking pretty, aren't ya?" Mizu chuckles as she pushes her hips. She lets out a moan, feeling the other end of the dildo pushing deep with her. You whimper as Mizu presses deep, the tip of her cock bumping against that spot of yours. "So so pretty for me, aren't you momma?"
You shiver at the nickname, hands coming down to grab Mizu's lean arms—its muscle flexing as she speeds up her thrusts, making sure that it's the right spot.
"You've been adamant about this all morning. Especially, after the wedding." Mizu growls, slamming her hips against yours. "You want my kids that bad?"
You're too lost in the pleasure, moans, and garbles of her name only coming out of your mouth. Mizu smiles, hair falling down her shoulders and framing her face as she props herself up on top of you.
"If you want it so bad, I'll give it to you," Mizu leans down to bury her face on your neck, sucking a few marks as she begins to speed up her thrusts.
"Oh! Oh!" You whine as the spot inside of you becomes more sensitive with each bump. Mizu pays no mind to your sounds, reveling in the way your nails rake through her back. She smirks against your skin, licking down until she encases your nipple within her mouth. You moan at the feeling, hands reach up to bury itself in her raven locks.
"I'm close! I-I—please!" You plead as her constant torture of your cunt begins to teeter at the edge. Mizu pants heavily as she places a soft kiss behind your ear.
"I am too." Her breath shakes as her hips falter. It doesn't take long before you climax, body arching and shivering from the intensity of the pleasure. Tears begin streaming down your face as you twitch with each thrust she gives you. She smiles placing a soft kiss on your lips. "Good girl."
Mizu follows shortly behind, coming in grunts and low moans before slumping down against you. There's a moment of reprieve before Mizu props herself up once more to take a look at your afterglow.
You smile up at her, hand coming up to brush her hair over her ear. Mizu leans against your touch.
"I love you." You mumble softly. Mizu gazes into your eyes with a love so true that it warms your very being.
"I love you too."
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a/n: mwehheheheheeh hope yall enjoyed that <3 not proofread will do it later mwehe
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knavesflames · 4 months ago
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Hello, I hope your day goes well as you're reading this!
If your request is still open, can I request touch deprived! Arlecchino and Touch deprived! Reader? Like reader is very clingy and affectionate to her closest friends because she's been deprived of physical affection since she was younger, and Arlecchino who's also touch deprived but unlike reader who has no problem with physical affection, she finds it hard to do it, but when she meets reader who's hugs are so comfortable she's grown addicted to it and craves her gentle touches more and more, thank you! Have a great day or night!
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(I realise I’m apologising on every post for the late ones, but I’m almost caught up to a reasonable delay) hi anon!! I feel this hard, I am so affectionate because I was touch starved as a child. Though, I focused this writing piece more on Arlecchino. I love exploring her and her being in character and slightly OOC too. (She’s my comfort character, can you guys tell?) thank you for the ask!
Word count: 1k
Content: fluff, Arlecchino is touched starved, she loves you
Nsft utc!
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Arlecchino and you have come from completely different backgrounds (that are unfortunately all too similar as well). You worked well together even so, your routines matching each other, the same sense of humour. By that, I mean, you joked, her lips barely turned up, and she hummed in response (which is equivalent to your wheezing on the sofa over.. a silly cat?). The point is, you worked. You both made sense together. Except one, tiny little detail.
You loved physical touch, and she despised it. Once you discovered how it felt, you were obsessed. You loved the way your body was enveloped by arms that seemed like they’d block out the whole world for you.
Arlecchino hated physical touch. She isn’t used to it, she grew up with her horrifying excuse for a Mother, and physical affection was used often as manipulation rather than anything else, she saw that much with what happened to her dear, dear friend (who haunts her dreams).
The first time Arlecchino held you was a year into your relationship. She awoke during the night to an empty bed, and when she made her way towards the living room, she saw you, in tears on the sofa. A bad dream, you had said, and nothing more. Arlecchino saw the way your body was almost aching for some sort of touch, and despite the discomfort, her arms wrapped around you. Awkward, clumsy, and a little bit forced, but she hugged you. She had not hugged someone since she was sixteen. Without a word, her thumb stroked against your arm, and she felt the way your body slumped against her body. She felt like a burning fire, you realised, most likely due to the flames running through her veins, but you welcomed it nonetheless.
She began to notice that holding you in her embrace was not as torturous as she assumed. Arlecchino held you until you fell asleep.
Her embraces were few and far between, reserved only for special moments or moments where she can see you need them. Her facial expression never changes, but over time, she becomes slightly more comfortable with every hug. She ended up craving your embraces, the way your hand gingerly caresses her cheek and your lips on her skin, the gentle squeeze on her arm when you go past her. She wanted so desperately to associate touch with you instead, someone she knows could never hurt a spider.
Eventually, she begins allowing it more and more, and even begins silently hinting when she wants one by sighing slightly louder, or grumbling a bit when things go wrong, only to feel a fuzzy warmth inside when you smile at her and give a gentle touch. Both you and Arlecchino wonder if she will one day make the first move.
Arlecchino does not know why she dislikes physical affection so much. She enjoys buying gifts she knows you will cherish and love instead, doing things at a distance. This was never supposed to be anything more than a fling, she didn’t want investment, she didn’t want any affection to be returned, but she fell for you, and hard. She dislikes how vulnerable she has become around you, but a part of her deep down inside of her likes it too. Arlecchino is scared you will leave, that you will ruin her one day, and she feels like it won’t happen if she doesn’t let on how hard she has fallen. (Everyone knows and says nothing.)
Perhaps she prefers affection the way she does, unrequited and with little investment, is because some part of her craves a love so great that it would tear her apart, and that frightens her. She does not know how to receive love, yet she still wants a love that will consume her entire being and burn hotter than the flames that course through her veins with every beat of her slowly-thawing heart. You are thawing her, she knows that much.
The weather chills the way her touch grows warmer, and winter comes quickly. The winter in Snezhnaya was cold and biting, and despite her accommodating her home for you (she clearly does not need it) by lighting the fireplace and leaving you blankets, the cold still finds its way into your bones, leaving you shivering. One night, when it is the coldest night of the year, you find yourself unable to sleep at all. You lay awake in the dark, thinking about your past the way you always do at night, shivering so hard you’re practically vibrating.
At some point, you hear her stirring, and you try to quiet yourself, to make sure she can continue sleeping. She noticed the second she opened her eyes, though. Doesn’t she always? She is glad you are pretending to sleep so you do not see the hesitation in her eyes before she snaps herself out of it and does what you both want her to. Wordlessly, she shuffles a few inches closer and her arm wraps around your midsection, dragging you closer until her body is wrapped around yours. Arlecchino, being the attentive person she is, notices your smile and sigh of relief and the way your shivering stops. She notices the way you nestle further in once you know she’s okay with it, and she notices when your breath falls into a deep rhythm.
It is her turn to stare at the wall, her heart beating faster than usual, the only giveaway of any of her feelings. Slowly, her arms snake around you until she’s holding you so tight you can’t move even if you wanted to. Her breath is visible when she exhales, when she lets her body finally relax in the company of another. Arlecchino buries her face into your hair, smelling your shampoo. The smell makes her drowsy, she tells herself (it is not the smell, it is that after so many years, her walls have crumbled completely), and she finds her eyes drooping until she, too, falls into the throes of sleep.
Arlecchino sleeps the best she ever has. Arlecchino has her first night of no nightmares since she became the poor, mad, cursed knave. Arlecchino does not feel so cursed when you are beside her.
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eustasskidagenda · 1 year ago
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hello!! ^^ this is my first time requesting, so hopefully i'm doing this correctly :;
can I request a trafalgar law/reader hurt to comfort oneshot, where the two of them get into a really big argument or fight and reader decides to leave him alone for a long time, so THAT eventually leads to some problems between the two and Law has to make things right??
(basically reader gives law the silent treatment, and law is too prideful to admit his wrongs)
thank you in advance!!! I've really enjoyed reading your kid works, so i'd be happy to see more of your writing :)
☆Trafalgar Law x Reader giving him the silent treatment after an argument 
Hello dear anon, don't worry, you did it perfectly and thank you so much for your request. I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope it will match your expectation. Enjoy our dear emo boy!
CW : g/n reader, hurt&comfort, Law is bad at express how he feels, let me know if I forgot something
WC : around 2,000 words, whoops, I love Law way too much, I got carried away
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Law is not a man of many words. That's the less you can tell. Always quiet about his plans, sometimes, you still struggle to understand what's going on in this beautiful mind. Usually, you just deal with it, supporting him as much as you can. But today, it's too much to handle. He is perpetually busy all day and night, and sometimes the bed is cold, and you know he didn't sleep with you. It hurts. You just have the feeling to carry on with this relationship alone. 
"We need to talk, Law." Busy with probably another shenanigan you don't know about, he totally ignores you and continues to read his newspaper. Again. Heavy-hearted, you close your eyes and clench your firsts. You can't step back and always try to round the corners. "Law", you insist. He finally drops the newspaper. "What, y/n-ya?" He asks, annoyed by the interruption. 
"Honestly, lately… I feel totally sidelined. You're always focused on your plans I don't nothing about, or busy with your patients. And it hurts" Law looks surprised by your words. Usually, you're more the one trying to smooth the things and trying to be super-comprehensive, because you do love Law, and you know he had been through a lot. Supporting him is the least you can do. But what about you? Your emotions? 
"I've not neglected you, y/n-ya. I'm just busy." Yes. That's the whole point. "You're always busy. If you don't need me anymore, just say it," you snarls, anger slowly heating your chest and burning your cheeks. Communication is maybe the key, but it's a struggle to communicate with someone as reserved as Law. The worst? You know he loves you. He's just… an aloof. Always distrustful. "Answer me," your voice is shaky from both anger and distress. " I have things to do, y/n-ya. Don't act like a child. I still feel the same way about you, and you know. " 
Maybe it's true, but you don't believe him anymore. You don't even remember the last time you kissed that sweet lips on him. And the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, when you redraw the lines of his tattoos, cuddling with him in bed. How can you feel the absence of someone you see every day? "I miss you," you confess. "But I'm right here. With you. I need to get those things done, so please be patient." Why can't he understand? With that unreadable face, he's still sitting on his chair. What's going on his mind? "What things, then?" He sighs. "I can't tell." 
No. It's enough. Now, you're mad. "Stop pushing me away! I miss you. Do you realize the absurdity of missing someone I can see every day? It's been four days since we last slept together! This morning, you didn't kiss me! You're always taking me for granted and I feel like I'm transparent!" At last, you manage to get a response from him. He removes his hat, runs his hand through his hair, and his eyes darken as your anger is about to explode. "Can you not be patient? I need to… finish what I'm working on. "
No.
Not this time.
He has already stated that too many times before. Before Dressrosa. Before Wano. You already waited way too long. Even for someone as patient as you, it's too much. " I'm tired," you confess, the voice which with emotions. "It can't keep going like this. Why am I always the second choice for you?"
Maybe it's because you always give everything you have to him. Supporting him, regardless of what. You had to break his armor several times to get closer to him, despite his distant and detached personality. The moment he finally confessed about his past was beautiful. The nights you spend together, simply talking about your lives, goals, and dreams, are rooted in your heart. A warm memory of two souls bonding and finding comfort through words and confession. Now, everything is just fading away. And you hate how angry and confused you sound, when Law is just as calm as always. Does he even notice what you just said? You can't tell.
"You don't even answer me. Such a shame to be named heart pirates when you don't even have one." you explodes, shouting the words.
"I don’t think it's the right time to talk about this because you're too emotional y/n-ya. "
"And you're too logical!"
The saying goes that opposites attract, but you're not so certain anymore. 
"I'm just so fucking done!" Now, you're screaming and Law growls, "Shh, don't yell, everyone will hear us," he says, caring way too much about his privacy. "I don't care! Just say something! " He looks so tired, with his usual dark rings under his eyes. "Leave me or not, but do something because I'm so done with this shit. I'm the only one trying to communicate and make things right!"
You slam the door of his small office with anger and tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. He doesn't follow you. He remains confined, choking on his own pride. He probably thinks you will be back soon, as always after an argument. But not this time. You're really done. It's his time to make some efforts, to prove that he actually cares about you and your relationship. 
At the diner, he doesn't show up. During the night either. It's not easy to distance yourself from him. But you will not change your mind. After three days, he finally starts to realize that you will not come after him. 
Why aren't you bringing him his morning coffee, massaging his tensed shoulders, and spreading your stupid concealer under his eyes? All those small actions you always do to lighten his burden as a captain… damn, he never felt that lonely. But what can he do now? How can he fix the mess he made?
The Polar Tang's ambiance is as cold as a winter island after a week. Everybody noticed the huge tensions between you and the Law. The captain is irritable, barking orders at everyone and looking for you everywhere, but you're just hiding from him. He's exhausted by this situation. He's starting to understand what you said: he misses you, even if you're here. 
It's becoming too much for his tortured soul after 10 straight days. The pain in his heart is unbearable. In reality, he feels like a child he never had the chance to be: terrified, lost and alone. Are you going to leave him too? Why is everyone around him always dying or disappearing? Is it always his fault? Now, he feels miserable, almost crying alone in his office. He can't even focus when Bepo asks him to bandage a small wound he just made. His hair is messy because he runs his hands through it too much. Law sighs heavily. His nerves completely fading away as he struggles to bandage Bepo. Why the hell is he crying over a poor bandage? 
He's exhausted. Physically and mentally. An he misses you. Deeply. He understands everything you said that day. He understands how you have felt lately and it's a horrible sensation. You didn't deserve the way he pushed you away from everything. He misses the warmth of your body, the passion in your sweet kisses, and your hands redrawing his chest tattoo. 
He needs to make things right. 
In this situation, what Corazon would have done? 
Probably running after you after slamming the door, falling miserably on the ground, and crying pathetically with an ugly nose running. Law frowns. But at this point, he's so desperate that he wouldn't mind crawling and begging for your forgiveness. He stumbles out of his office, tired, and looks for you. How can you hide on such a small ship? "Have you seen y/n?" He asks to everyone and they all they say no. Are they lying? Where have you gone? Did something happen to you? Poor Law is so stressed right now, more than usual. He spent the entire day looking for you and failed. Is it too late? Have you just left? Without a goodbye? No. It can't be. He needs to see, kiss, and hug you. Just one more time, just one last time. Even if feels that he doesn't deserve you. 
He slams the door of the bedroom you used to share with brutal force. As he takes off his hat before laying on the mattress, he sighs and an idea crosses his mind. But he's afraid. Because if his plan is not working, it will mean you have already left the Polar Tang. For good. Hands shaking, he finally moves his fingers and mutters, 'room, shambles'. Your plushie disappears as you suddenly pop on the bed. 
Oh, thank god, you didn't leave. "Y/n-ya" he whispers, his voice thick with emotions. 
Your heart is pounding as you remain silent. Ten days. Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin helped you hide from Law for ten days straight. Giving him the silent treatment was a difficult choice and all you can hope for is that it actually worked. "I'm not a man of many words," he confesses. "But I do love you. I'm sorry for always pushing you away, please forgive me. It's just that... I need to keep you out of trouble. If you don't know my current plan for now, it's safer. " For someone as quiet as him, he's talking a lot. But still not enough."I think I've taken you for granted, but I want to be there for you. Please, let me stay by your side. Don't leave me, please." He almost begs, his voice thick with emotions. 
His gentle touch on your cheek almost melts you.  You missed those beautiful, smooth hands on your face. You get closer, enjoying the warm heat heating up your chest. "You're so beautiful", he whispers. He looks so genuinely innocent, discovering again all the small details of your face. What has he done to be so fortunate in love? Does he only deserve you? You can tell that he's not even sure as he waits for your answer, trying to hide the slight shaking in his movements. 
"I love you, Law." You gently assure him by kissing the tattoos on his fingers. As the solace embraces his heart, Law is melting inside.
He didn't lose you. It's not too late. "I know you're not good at words, so I won't ask for much. What you just said is already perfect. Thank you for confessing to me. I know it's hard for you to open up." you reassure him. "What should I do, y/n-ya? How can I show you that I care about you? I won't repeat this situation twice." His eyes are now shining with pure determination. "Just the small things you used to do before. Sleeping with me, giving me a hello and a goodnight kiss... you remember that? Our routines." Law nods, probably taking mental note. "I have to kiss you twenty times." You raise an eyebrow confusedly. "Why?" 
He shrugs. "It's been ten days since I last saw you. And I'm supposed to kiss you all mornings and evenings." He's so serious right now, you can't help but burst out laughing. He's not joking at all. God, you love this nerd so much. The confusion on his face is even more hilarious. " I love you," you sigh between two laughs. "Why are you laughing? Am I wrong?" That man is so smart, cold and logical, but with love… he's just a mess. A beautiful mess. The one you will always love and cherish. "You're so adorable."
And now, he's blushing. How dare you call him adorable? "Just come here," he sighs, grabs your hips, and sits you on his laps. His lips are sealed to yours, and he kisses you. Twenty times. And he's counting. Every kiss is filled with passion, love, unspoken emotions, and sweet promises. 
And, as always when you're together in the same bed, you end up redrawing the tattoos on his chest. As you gently caress his skin, he falls asleep, the tension finally leaving his face. You cradle your head against his chest. His heart is slowly beating, and he looks so calm right now. 
You are here with him, and his tortured mind can finally get some sleep.
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fraugwinska · 8 months ago
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Since your requests are open… can I request Alastor taking care of his sick wife? The crew noticed their mia and Alastor slinks away to their hotel room to find them dying (metaphorically) in their nest of blankets?
Thank you ;—; I love your writing sm! ฅ(•ㅅ•)ฅ
Whew - that was a first for me :D Switching it up for a little Alastor POV ;> I hope you like it, lovely Anon! (P.S. - The song mentioned is 'Unforgettable' by Nat King Cole)
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
In Sickness and in Health
Alastor's day couldn't get better – adding another, large territory to his nicely growing collection, visiting his dear friend Rosie along the way, and now returning to his diddy hotel, full of entertainment, and with his lovely wife waiting for his return: He was in a rightfully jolly mood.
He'd left so early in the morning, letting his love sleep in deep, heavy breaths, he was wondering what she had been up to this day? On the way back, he stopped by the florist, careful not to touch the delicate, burgundy blossoms of the chrysanthemums, her favourites.
He entered the hotel to find the residents deeply engaged in another of the princess's silly bonding activities – a game of charades, as it seemed. Alastor watched them with curiosity as Angel Dust gestured wildly, while the others screamed in chaos, throwing guesses his way.
„Fuck, man, come on! I'm making it OBVIOUS here!“, Angel moaned, throwing his hands frustrated into the air.
„The hell you are – you look like you're hurlin' yo' last drink like a garden sprinkler.“, Husk replies dryly, rubbing his temples, while the girls just look confused.
„It's fucking MOTORBOATING, jesus christ on a cracker!“
The group groans, exept for Vaggie, who runs over to him and grabs the card the flamboyant spider waves around.
„It's just 'Motorboat', you idiot.“ „Potayto, Potahto.“
Alastor, having heard enough of that nonsense, closed the entrance noisily. Charlies head whipped around to see him.
„Oh, hey Alastor, you're back early.“, she chirped, ignoring the still arguing group behind her. Alastor walked over and smiled down at her. „Business went better than I expected, dear. And you all are as... aspiring as ever, I see?“ He let his gaze fall back to the group, counting – five heads. Not six. „Would you happen to know where my darling doe is?“
Charlie blinked. „Umm.“, she turned to look at the group, as if she expected her to be there. Alastors eyes narrowed as the princess asked timidly if anyone had seen her.
„Nope, not me.“ „Didn't turn up on the bar, either.“ „She missed breakfast, too“ Alastor huffed, feeling anger bubbling up in his stomach at the blatant negligence of his companions. He left Charlie and the others standing without a word, looking rightfully guilty and shouting apologies at his back. He made a mental note to plan an appropriate response to this mishap, and fastened his steps to his suite.
He knocked on the door, softly. No response. He listened intensely. „My love, are you in there?“ A quiet groan, muffled through thick wood and creaking walls, barely audible.
He opened the door his eyes searching through the dimly lit room - the curtains of the windows were still closed, just like he left them this morning.
„Alastor?“, he heard your voice, weak and tired, from inside the pile of cushions, pillows and blankets piled up on the shared bed.
He quickly set the flowers down on the bureau before he peeled layers of fabric off the built fort to reveal his precious doe – face reddened, hair damp with sweat and deep, panting in straint breaths. Her eyes opened slowly, they were watery and dull.
„Hello...“, she said, a small smile on her dried lips. „Hello, my love.“, he answered, brushing her hair out her face with timid fingers – when they touched her forehead, it was burning hot. Alastor frowned.
„You are sick, my doe....“ She hummed in response. A shiver made her pull the blankets around her closer to her. „I think I'm dying again.“ Alastor chuckled softly, cupping her cheek - heat poured from her scorching skin into his cold palms.
„Always so dramatic. No love, you're certainly not dying. Boiling yourself, maybe. You have a raging fever, sweet thing.“
„Potayto, Potahto...“, she murmured. Alastor scrunched his nose – Angel Dust certainly had a bad influence on his wife.
„Now, now, no reason to call for the mortician, love. Let's get you out of these dampened clothes for a start, shall we?“
She whined from the coldness he exposed her to, grabbing his arms as he pulled her out of the many layers of fabric and peeled the sweat-drenched clothes from her burning body. Her usually smooth and tender skin was colored in angered flushes of read, mimicking the blazing temperature she radiated. While he worked on getting her in fresh, clean pajamas, he murmured soft reassurances and sweet words of comfort to her.
Alastor knew she hated the feeling of helplessness a sickness brought with it. Her demise had been sudden, painful and most importantly lonely, having no one by her side while the disease had eaten her alive.
He placed her back into bed, a snap of his fingers had disassembled the abhorrent nest she had built, linens clean, soft and dry. She whimpered when he opened the windows to let some fresh air into the room, but sighed in sweet relief when the cold cloth he conjured for her cooled her forehead.
“Can you play something for me?”, she whispered after he had convinced her to drink some water, her lids heavy and almost out of consciousness.
Alastor brushed her cheeks tenderly.
“Of course my treasured girl.”
He pulled the chair from his bureau next to the bed, settling down with her hand in his. He chose the song carefully – it was the one she and him first danced to, when he and her were two singulars still, instead of one plural.
The soft tunes of the celeste and piano drove the dreadful, deafening silence out of the room, and when Nat King Coles voice started to serenade, her face relaxed into a serene smile, breaths flattening into calm draws of air.
Alastor watched his wife drift into healing slumber, her skin color already fading into her more normal shade. Relieved, he stroked his thumb delicately over her fingers, still safely wound around his. Yes. Alastor knew she hated the helplessness a sickness brought with it. But at least, this time, he could be there to guide her through it.
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stormyoceans · 1 year ago
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If you receive this, you make somebody happy! Go on anon and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. If you get one back, even better! ✨
AAAAAAAAA THIS WAS SO SWEET OF YOU ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!! 🥺 im having a pretty tough week and this gave me the little bit of warmth i needed to get to the weekend, so thank you again for taking the time to send this to me and please know you made me happy too!!!!! 💜
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signedkoko · 10 months ago
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Hello Koko! I Hope you had a good day/night, and that you are doing well and not overworking yourself:)
I think I saw that you didn’t have requests at the moment but that they were open so here a little request for headcanon/oneshot with Vox, Alastor and Angel dust separately with overlord gn!reader? (If you don’t take 3 at a time maybe only Vox & Alastor?)
They Thinks s/o is sweet, like they’re always smiling and being kind of everyone most of the time, they can’t believe they would even be able to hurt a fly even if they’re an overlord
but then they get told she just unalived her colleague (they were both leaders of the entreprise) because she wanted to be in full possession of their entreprise, maybe they owned a model enterprise or were music producers (like they were the one selling every musics in hell or sum like that?) how do they react?
(Really sorry if it’s unclear or if something is wrong, thanks for reading my request!)
-🐚
Alastor | Vox [Romantic]
In which you are their sweet little overlord who'd never be cruel! ...Or so they thought. Reader is genderneutral.
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Your company was your baby, your castle, your absolute everything
And for the longest time, you'd always shared it with the co-founder
They had a lovely personality but worked behind the scenes for the most part while you acted on the main stage
Hell, you'd even introduced them to your otherworldly partner, Alastor, and had only told him of the good
So it was in fact quite a surprise when you turned up home with bloody hands and the most joyous smile on your face, almost as wide as your wedding day
That in itself wasn't out of the norm; you were an overlord after all! Alastor knew you could handle yourself, as much as you opted to ignore it
" Oh Al, I have great news! "
" Do tell, my dear! "
When you explained that the company was all yours, he was quick to catch on
Now that, that managed to surprise him
" I really thought you loved the gal! "
Even more surprising is how you'd managed to hide your true feelings from him for so long; he was sure he could have sniffed out your malice
But you were just that good at hiding it
He probably makes a joke about how you could be plotting his murder as we speak
" Maybe! "
His smile falters a slight bit
But you don't notice
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By Vox's own request, your enterprise was kept unattached from his own; merely partners
This was because it meant better publicity if two companies got along so well, but also because he didn't want you to be overcome with the demands of his two co-founders
Yeah, Velvette and Valentino pissed him off to double hell and back, but he considered them friends
A few times, the V's and you and your co-founder would host lavish dinner parties, discussing economic growth and working together on projects
You never seemed to shy away from introducing your partner in industry, and as far as Vox could tell, you were as close as friends could be before anything got steamy
You were just the friendliest person he'd ever met; the number of fans you had showed that, but you'd even gotten favour from the other two V's with little effort on your behalf
So, of course, he was stunned when you called him in the middle of work
" You know you're the first to hear all my company news; I am now the sole owner! "
He could hear you smile through the phone, which almost scared him, and soon your phone was fizzling as he travelled through it
The first thing he noticed was that you were both standing in a puddle
A red puddle
Fuck
Ok
" Thats great and all, but lets get you out of here, and maybe—yeah, maybe we can call in a cleanup crew. "
He is your number one PR team; your overtaking of the company is seen as 'heroic' because you ' fought against a corrupt co-founder'
It surprises him, but he's almost proud of you; you are crazy strong and crazy capable
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Author's Note - I do accept up to three characters for headcanons, but as per my FAQ I don't write Angel! Either way, welcome to the blog (again) shell/conch anon! Your idea is very lovely 🖤
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kurokawaia · 3 months ago
Text
❛ TOO POLITE ❜
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Shinazugawa Sanemi X Fem!Reader
WC; 1.1k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; no triggers apart from sanemi being a lil mean >.<, reader is very polite and timid, she doesn't really understand the whole concept yk, she's like innocent.
⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Could you please do sanemi with s/o where he tries to degrade her and stuff but shes SO polite and just says Like 'sorry' and 'thank you' and obeys every command without question with like EXTREME politeness that its just too difficult to degrade, and its so cute😭 Im curious to see how he'd react. - ANON
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Sanemi had forever been known for his whiplash tongue and his rough character, he had no time for dribble, no use for sissies, and most definitely did not have the time for anything that even smacked of being very soft and very cutesy, very demure, LMA- sorry in the remotest way.
And that was the major reason it dumbfounded him, completely and absolutely, to have ended up with you-a person so soft, so sweet, and endlessly, impeccably polite that he often wanted to bash his head against a wall. Almost.
It had been a very long day, and all he wanted right now was to come home, maybe blow off some steam, and just bag all the tension built up. You were there waiting as he walked through the door with that same soft smile that chipped away at his gruff exterior.
"Welcome home, Sanemi," you smiled, your voice like honey. "How was your day?"
He grunted in response, not in the mood to answer that question with anything more than a noncommittal noise, and tossed his sword on the table with a clatter. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, trying to ignore how your mere presence seemed to make the knots in his shoulders loosen just a bit.
You reached for his haori, folding it carefully and setting it aside. "Dinner will be ready soon. Would you like to wash up first?"
You always were so goddamn considerate, always trying to think ahead, trying to make sure everything was just right for him. It was. maddening in a way. How the hell was it so easy to be nice, so completely put off by his roughness?
"No," he snapped, sitting heavily at the table. "Just hurry up with the damn food."
"Of course, my love. I'll bring it right away."
You didn't bat an eye at the sharpness of his tone and moved with that calm grace that always seemed to unsettle him. You readied the food, all the while Sanemi watching you sideways for something-anything-to continue acting that way.
Another command was barked out, this one more biting. "But don't scorch it. I'm not in the mood for your usual bland crap.".
"Yes, dear. I will get it soon-the way you like it," you replied quickly in your always-soft respectful tone. You didn't even pause with the job on hand and that soft smile, until you got it to the table, just about perfectly prepared.
Sanemi frowned, attempting to find fault with it, but of course, there was nothing to be found. The food was great- exactly how he liked it. Still, he would never admit that, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath as he started to eat, hoping you didn't pay attention to the slight softening of his features.
You sat down opposite him, your hands neatly folded in your lap, and watched him eat with that gentle expression that drove him crazy, for reasons he could not quite fathom. It wasn't long before his irritation began to bubble up again, this time more at himself than you.
Why couldn't he just stay angry? Why did you have to be so… so…
"Why do you put up with this?" he finally snapped, his head jerking up from his meal, to meet your calm gaze. "Why don't you ever get pissed off? Why don't you ever talk back or tell me to shut up?"
You turned your head slightly, as if genuinely considering his questions, and then you smiled. A soft, warm smile that made something in his chest twist.
"Because I love you, Sanemi. I know you're just trying to cope with everything in your own way. If being rough with me helps you, then that's okay. I just want to make things easier for you."
Sanemi blinked, taken aback by your response. How could you say that with such sincerity? How could you look at him with so much affection after everything he'd said and done?
He opened his mouth for the argument, to say something sharp and biting back, but the words just wouldn't come. Instead, he felt the anger drain out of him, replaced instead by a confusion he couldn't quite shake.
"Easier for me?" he repeated, all but disbelieving. "How the hell is letting me treat you like crap easier on me?
"Because it gets it out," you said, like it was the most painfully obvious thing in the world. "I know you're not really mad at me. You're just frustrated sometimes, and that's okay. If it means that you need to get a little rough around the edges, then I'm cool with that. I know you don't mean it."
Sanemi stared at you, utterly dumbfounded. You seemed to take the wind out of his sails and left him floating, directionless because he did not know what would or should happen next. He was used to people fighting back, to fights and resistance, and you… well, you didn't push back. You don't fight. You just… accept him. And somehow, that was more disarming than any argument could have been.
He sat there, just staring at you for a moment, his brain racing to catch hold of what feeling was moving around inside him. It was annoying and confusing and-strangely comforting all at once.
He'd wanted to say something, to tell you that you didn't have to put up with his bullshit, you could be angry, you should be angry-but the words just wouldn't come. And that was it.
Finally, he exhaled loudly and rubbed his face in his hands. "You're too damn good for me," he grumbled, smiling more for himself than for you.
It was enough for him to see you smile again. "I'm all right, Sanemi. Do what you need to do-I'm here for you. Anything.
"Damn it," he muttered, the tension in his shoulders melting completely.
He couldn't stay angry, not when you looked at him like that. Not when you made it so damn hard to be mad. He stood up, walking around the table to pull you into a rough but heartfelt embrace. "You're too damn cute for your own good, you know that?
You giggled softly, leaning your head against his chest. "Thank you, Love."
"Don't thank me," he growled, though, by now, there was little true anger left in his tone. He tugged you closer, burying his face in your hair. "You're too courteous. It's annoying."
"I'm sorry," you said, but your voice was light, nearly playful.
His eyes rolled but a smile played at the corner of his lips. "Dammit, woman. Impossible.
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Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.
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HONEY A/NOTE :: ill be making multiple parts to this btw !! i find the troupe of grumpy/easily mad x sunshine oblivious reader, so expect more of these!! if any of you have any specific ideas that would be lovely if you could let me know :D
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