#i need to spice it up!! even if i come back to something eventually i can't force it!

[causticsunshine]

wanted to share the sentiment here too but didn't feel like rewriting the whole thing lmao so here are some Thoughts i had last night on twt regarding my weird relationship with my art whilst being in fandom:

i know i've definitely talked about this kind of thing in the past but it's been a very recent development that i actually understand what's been going on with me and why i've picked up this habit of letting a fandom i'm in / a piece of media i'm really into fully dictate my creative drive. like, just because i'm very interested or invested in something, it doesn't mean i necessarily feel inspired by it or inspired by it for the duration that it holds my interest, and forcing myself to create relative art or fic or what have you for the vested interest(s) has both dampened my desire to be creative as well as my imagination. i know a lot of people can be super into something or a few random things at once and that can keep them going for ages without them running out of ideas, but in my case, things that hold my interest aren't always synonymous with my creativity and i'm just now learning that despite how obvious it seems!

i also imagine i'm not the only person who functions like this but i personally haven't seen it spoken about very often (if it even needs to idk), so i wanted to bring it up / talk about it a little bit :)

[kurooh]

explaining the basic culinary concepts of thanksgiving to choso goes in one ear and out the other, until you start talking about stuffing something, having to pack it all in so it’s full.

“cho, wait, the turkey’s cooking—”

he shrugs uselessly, yanking your underwear off and making sure to avoid the neat knot of your apron at your back. he’d pulled at your shirt eagerly before eventually deciding to leave you in your apron and whatever was beneath it.

choso spits onto his cock and slicks it up along his length, making his skin glossy and sticky. small beads of pearlescent precum spill from the slit of his cock, only adding to the lubrication and making it better. he gnaws on his lower lip as he guides his cock towards your quivering pussy, exhaling sharply when he pushes in.

that first overwhelming wave of pleasure is always the hardest to stand against—you’re so tight and oh so warm, slick walls squeezing him hungrily. heat burns at the back of his neck and he tosses his head back, shakily grabbing onto your hips in an effort to steady you against the kitchen counter.

“fuck, choso,” you moan, eyes rolling back into your skull. instinctively, your ass presses back into his pelvis, an obvious plea for something more. “it’s—‘s so fucking big.”

“it’s the perfect size for you,” he whines, shaking his head to clear the thoughts of cumming prematurely. “arch a little, please.”

you comply easily, choking on a sound of delight when he finally starts to move inside you. like an older car, it takes choso a little while to get it going, but once he does . .

small glass bottles of spices tumble around the counter when you push your arms forward, nails scratching at the granite as you search for something to get a hold of. his hips help to bully his cock deeper inside you, his tip kissing your cervix almost every thrust.

“f-fuck!” you keen, a sob tearing from your throat.

his fingers stroke over your back and he shakily reassures you, a large hand scooping under your chin: “i know, i—ngh, baby . . you’re t-taking it so well.” a beat of verbal silence is filled with desperate moans and the steady clap of skin against skin; when choso speaks again, he’s so far gone you can’t quite make heads or tails of his words.

“i-i love it—i love this pussy, i love you—o-oh god, ‘m gonna fuck you full, baby. gonna show you what stuffed really means.”

your legs tremble weakly, and your face is pressed against the counter while a few tears spill freely down your cheeks. choso’s heavy balls slap against your clit, begging to be emptied and lavished in attention. your back arches and your puffy pussy starts to flutter hard around his cock, teary cries of delight leaving your lips when he grunts and continues to fuck you.

“i-inside, i need to cum inside you,” choso gasps, hand dropping to your throat and pulling you back against him. the new adjustment makes it more difficult for his cock to slip out of you now, and easier for him to fuck deeper.

“cho,” you stutter out dumbly, not even registering the burning smell spreading throughout the kitchen, “jus’ fill me up, stuff me like you wanted.”

it’s as if the words command his body; choso’s breath comes in fast, wheezy pants as his hips stutter unceremoniously and he’s almost out of time to warn you. “i really will,” he gasps, voice cracking and words splintering, “‘m gonna put a baby in you, too.”

hot ribbons of white spill against your cervix, leaving his cock throbbing and soaking in his mess. choso came so hard you can’t help but wonder how long it’ll take for it to finally spill out of you — an hour, at least. his hand presses down firmly against the softness above your pelvis, and the pressure makes your cunt bear down harder on him, squeezing the last few drops of cum out of his cock.

“l-lemme feel it, baby. cum for me, please, need to—” he can’t even finish his sentence before you’re cumming so hard his cock is pushed out of you. it rests against his pelvis, twitching as he hears you ride out the high. it’s nothing but euphoric, filled with relief and excitement all at once—but the illusion quickly falls away when you smell something burning.

the something is your turkey that had been cooking nicely in the oven, becoming crisp and delicious. now, it’s blackened and reeking. choso lightly presses a hand to the center of your back and apologizes.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t think—”

you sigh disappointedly, unable to recover much of the turkey. “i-it’s okay. there’s just a ton of stuffing for it.”

“stuffing?” he asks, as cum starts to drip from your cunt, making your inner thighs messy.

“it’s just an add on to put into the turkey,” you supply, waving plumes of black smoke away. “it makes it bigger, fuller.”

“so, like pregnancy?”

“i guess?” you ask, utterly confused. “who compares turkey to pregnancy?”

“it makes sense to me. i did fuck a baby into you, didn’t i?”

[charliemwrites]

it is my borfday. I am now 20 whole years. So I ask: 1fur1 reaction to readers borfday? I have 1fur1 thoughts but they aren't ready yet... They're still cooking

Happy Borfday!!!!! Two decades 🎉🎉

Okay just for you, bean - I’ll make it a full part too, even. This is very fluffy up until the end when it gets just a hint of spice.

(No human boys in this one, sorry!)

You haven’t said a word about it all week - and why would you? You live alone with three dogs. It’s not like they care that it’s your birthday; or even understand what time is, really. (Except for dinner time of course.)

But the day of your birthday dawns, a little rainy. You let yourself sleep in a bit, mumbling five more minutes three times in a row when Ghost nudges impatiently at your cheek.

Eventually you do get up though, giving each of your boys a crooning ��good morning” and laying kisses on their precious heads. You stumble to the kitchen to start your coffee, even pull out the fancy beans you reserve for special occasions. While it’s brewing, you start gearing up the boys for their morning potty. The precipitation is mostly mist right now, but you’d rather them not smell like wet dog.

You’re trying to belt a wiggly, impatient Johnny in when your phone rings. Huffing, you tap at the speaker icon and try to wrestle the stupid hood over his big-ass ears.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” your mom trills through the phone.

At the noise, Johnny thankfully goes still. You finish securing his raincoat and turn to Konig. Thankfully, he’s much more cooperative about getting dressed - even if he takes every opportunity to lick your face.

“Uh, thanks,” you answer. Honestly, you were hoping she’d forget.

“What are you doing today to celebrate? Going out with friends? Maybe a date…?”

You roll your eyes as you finish adjusting Konig’s (custom) raincoat.

“Definitely not. I was just gonna stay in, order some food, drink some wine…”

You haven’t even finished before your mother is protesting.

“No, no, no, you need to do something special! Not every day is your birthday.”

And thank fuck for that, you think, shaking your head.

“It’s not that big a deal,” you insist. The boys crowd as you lead the way to the back door and prop it open. They seem oddly reluctant to leave your side. You assume it’s the rain and shoo them off, your mother still on speaker.

“Well if you won’t do anything, I will.”

“Ma, you really don’t need to—“

“Dinner will be at 6:30. Don’t be late!”

And she hangs up. You groan, run a hand down your face. Well. At least it’s only dinner. You can still do the rest of your plans.

“Boys!” you call, noting that they’re mostly just congregating at the edge of the yard. They instantly return to your side, even Johnny - who has a tendency to make you chase him in the rain.

They each file inside, sit and behave while you remove their raincoats and hang them to dry. As usual, they follow and crowd while you make up your coffee. Add a bit of whiskey just for fun; you won’t need to drive for a while.

The boys climb onto the couch with you, happily arranging themselves in a warm circle. Konig at your back like a living pillow. Johnny on your right, head in your lap. Ghost just in front, pressed against your shins and warming your feet.

You settle in with a contented sigh and sip your coffee. Even put on a show you’ve been meaning to get to.

Midway through the episode, Ghost slips off the couch and slinks off. You notice in the back of your mind, but he tends to be the moodiest of your boys and figure he just wants some alone time.

When he comes back, you hum at him, kissing his muzzle as he takes your other side. As the next episode is loading, Johnny hops down.

“Biiiiig stretch,” you coo, grinning as his back legs extend. He wags, licks your hand in parting, and trots off. You hear the doggy door clatter, figure he didn’t do all his business after all.

About an hour later, the doorbell chimes. You jump, but… the boys are oddly quiet. Usually they’d be rioting that someone dares come to the door. This time, though alert, not so much as a growl.

Put off, you pad to the door and check the peephole. Just a delivery man with a… frankly monstrous bouquet.

You open the door, prepared to tell him that he’s made a mistake. But he says your name and address and tells you happy birthday, gently handing it over.

You blink as he saunters back to the truck, almost don’t notice Ghost standing sentinel right beside you.

“Huh,” you muse, finding him watching you. “Who d’you think ordered me flowers?”

He makes a little “ruff” noise. You snort and close the door. It’s a beautiful arrangement, you must admit. All your favorites. It even came in a vase!

You inhale the sweet scent and sigh, unable to keep from smiling. Usually you think flower arrangements are a bit silly, so expensive for something that will last so little time. But it’s been ages since you last got one and someone clearly put thought into it.

You offer each of the pups a sniff, laughing when Konig sneezes a bit. You set the vase on the kitchen counter where it won’t become a casualty of any enthusiastic tails and you’ll get to look at it regularly. Try to look for a card but there isn’t one.

Hopefully, whoever sent it will reveal themselves by asking if you like it.

You settle on the couch again with a lingering smile, scratching at Ghost’s ears when he presses his face against your shoulder.

Another hour passes in peace when there’s another knock at the door. Again, the dogs stay eerily quiet. This time, you’re greeted with a huge bag of items.

You unpack it on the couch, Johnny sitting by your knee. A new plush blanket, a pretty mug, a video game you’ve heard good things about, the next book on your reading list, your favorite candies, and even an expensive new pair of headphones (since Johnny ruined your last ones).

You let him sniff curiously at each item, amused by his involvement in your gift unwrapping.

“Wow,” you breathe, staring at your pile of gifts. “This is more than I’ve gotten in years. I don’t even know what to do with it all.”

You start by eating some of the candies. Johnny’s tail wags furiously the entire time, even when you remind him that candy is Not For Him.

At some point in all the craziness, Konig’s scurried off somewhere. Not surprising, you figure. All the guests must have made him shy. He’s not a fan of really anyone but you.

Eventually he returns, though, and you’re sure to welcome him back with praises and kisses before he climbs into his spot. You happily return to your show, scratching absently at your snuggly pack.

Just around noon, there’s one last knock at the door. Your favorite takeout place, including a box of the really good German pastries that you never let yourself get more than once every other week. Fresh baked too!

You hum happily as you eat, wishing you knew who to thank for it.

“I feel utterly spoiled,” you laugh as you save the rest of the pastries for later. “I definitely don’t deserve all this.”

A deep bark nearly startles you. Konig. He hardly ever makes a peep!

“Listen to you, baby!” you coo, wiggling your fingers to entice him closer. He comes to your side instantly, chin on your stomach, staring up at you with big mismatched eyes. “Such a lovely voice. Ich liebe dich, Herr Konig.”

He wags happily at you, a big, silly canine grin on his face. When you duck down to hug him, he leaves kisses all over your face and neck.

By evening, you’re in a good enough mood that you’re not completely dreading the visit to your parents’ house. You get dressed, kiss each of your boys goodbye, and leave.

It’s not… bad per se. Sure, your mom makes your sister’s favorite meal, and your dad doesn’t even realize why you’re there at first. Your sister’s husband also keeps making weird comments about you being single and your biological “clock” but—

Well, you’re just there for dinner. At least your mom made homemade cookies; a classic you’ve always enjoyed. But not even that is enough to make you stay longer than absolutely necessary, making your excuses that Konig still gets separation anxiety.

The drive home is long and you feel exhausted from putting on the “grateful daughter” song and dance. When you pull up to the house, though, you perk up when you see another package.

It’s a… basket? You carry it inside, too dark to see what it is on the porch. Immediately greeted by the boys, you don’t get a chance to look at it at first. But once you do…

It’s a self care basket, you think. A ridiculously nice bottle of wine, a bath bomb, body cream, sugar scrub… a bottle of the lube you always use. New lingerie. A toy. Not just any toy either. One you’ve been putting off buying because it’s close to a hundred pounds and you’ve got three big boys to feed.

At first you think it’s your ex but…. No. No, everything in this basket is things you’d pick for yourself. Things he never knew you well enough to buy. And he’s too cheap besides - and too much of a stuck up dick to ever dream of patronizing adult toys.

You hesitate over it. But….. well, you’ve already brought it inside. Doesn’t matter if you use any of it or not; and it’s stupid to let it go to waste.

So you feed the dogs and wander to your room.

And it. Is. Decadent.

You linger in the bathtub for way too long, giggling at the sparkles in the water, sipping wine and nibbling on German pastries. Even sacrificed one of the roses from the bouquet to let the petals float in the water. Start the first couple chapters of your birthday book, sigh and talk nonsense to your boys, all of them lingering in the doorway but behaving.

And when you finally get to bed, you run the battery out achieving your “birthday orgasms”. (Remain shockingly uninterrupted by any of the boys.)

Sometime before midnight your dream of gentle hands cleaning you up, pressing kisses everywhere. Voices whispering “love you” and “happy birthday”.

It’s the best one to date.

(Again, happy borfday!! I love you and I hope this was a good gift 💕)

Main Story | Konig pt.2 | Price pt.1

Masterlist

[celestialprincesse]

hi!

could you write a soft (with a hint of spice) story about Simon or Konig where reader is in dire need of getting affection, but doesn’t want to bother them by asking?

please and thank you!! 🫶🫶

Of course I can!! Sorry for letting this gather dust in my ask box!! I keep meaning to go through my asks but I end up getting distracted and yapping!

mdni 🎀 mild nsfw

König doesn't pay you much attention as you sit curled on the worn couch in his office, trying to avoid the springs that dig through the old leather of the cushions, whilst simultaneously trying to get comfortable. At the beginning, the incessant snatching of his rudimentary biro on the obnoxious stack of forms occupying his desk had been soothing. You'd even managed to drift of for a snooze at one point, before being woken up by some sergeant barging into his office. Your positive mood has long since faded. You're hungry, having held out for the promise that he'd take you to your favourite restaurant as soon as he finished filling out his mission reports, said promise having been nearly three hours ago - and the stupid lights of his dingy office have you convinced that you've got a migraine coming on. "Shouldn't a colonel's office be a little nicer than this?" You hum, attempting to catch your boyfriend's attention, an attempt which is promptly thrown back out you when he gives a noncommittal grunt.

You manage to keep occupied with your own thoughts for another ten minutes before you're up on your feet, poring over the books on his shelf in an attempt to find something at least remotely engaging. Unfortunately, your boyfriend's literature is limited to weaponry and maps, neither of which you find particularly intriguing. Eventually you manage to find some dusty biography of some commander with a name you can't even pronounce, settling back on the couch to skim the pages for anything that may be of any possible interest. Unsurprisingly, it comes up naught. For a while, you try to settle with just resting, listening to the rhythmic sound of putting one to paper - a while being five minutes, and then you're at your wits end. König lets out a confused, slightly disgruntled huff as you plop yourself down on his lap, stuffing your face into the crook of his neck with a deep sigh. "Leibe-" He grunts, his pen dropping to the desk as he uses a hand to rub up and down your spine, suddenly sensing your frustration now that he's been ripped from the hyper-focussed state he'd been in. "Been ignoring me all day." You whine, aiming for him to take some pity on you. "You know I didn't mean to, my love." A massive hand stroking through your hair has you practically melting into him as he absently massages the nape of your neck with his strong fingers.

Apparently, having his attention isn't enough, because despite the hand alternating between brushing through your hair and soothing the muscles in his shoulders, you still find yourself grinding down on the sinewy muscle of his denim-clad thigh. "Needy thing." He coos as you rock your cunt back and forth over his tree trunk of a leg, blushing face hidden against his collar. He doesn't mind, of course, not at all. In fact, he gives a helping hand, gently bouncing his leg up and down as your hips cant needily against him, your panties slick soaked and see through as you get yourself off on his leg.

The minute you've finished, he's pressing affectionate, loving kisses to your head and rubbing the taut muscles of your back. "Next time you're bored, schatz, just tell me, hm?"

[sulumuns-dootah]

NSFW Alphabet - Lucifer

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

A/N: Kinda important: This is my impression of Lucifer since I don't have any of his cards and I've only played through the event + the prologue for his Selfie card

Our poll winner! (ngl I was kinda hoping for Belphie but that's just my personal bias)

‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

10/10 aftercare skills. I mean this man literally leads a hospital country. All marks will get healed instantly (if you want them to) and your mental well-being is taken care of too. Hugs are a bit awkward since it's his first time being this close with soemone, but with enough help he'll learn to give the best hugs ever.

   ༺☆༻

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Being the demon of pride, I'd say he loves all of his body. It would even make sense considering that his body was made by God and Luci still adores him. The same thing goes for his partner. Humans were made in the image of God and Lucifer cherishes his creations. Now more than ever. As an angel he didn't get to meet a human up close, so now he's finding out a lot of things that intrigue him.

   ༺☆༻

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Oh, his cum? It's so pretty it makes you wanna bottle it up and keep it on your shelf like a decoration. It's sparkly, iridescent and just the right texture. It does taste a bit weird tho - salty with a bit of tingling at the end.

   ༺☆༻

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Is it a secret? I kinda think that all of the angels are really into God. Only Gabriel has to be the extra middle child and make it his whole personality.

   ༺☆༻

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Since we know about the angel orgies, he definitely knows what he's doing, but he's still kinda sloppy when it comes to cumming. Edging him kinda doesn't really have an effect on him since he's used to it.

   ༺☆༻

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, so he can fully admire how gorgeous his partner is. Other than that, not really a position, but any form of something-job. Those are the only times he gets to thrust without having to worry about how deep he goes.

   ༺☆༻

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? Etc.)

Lucifer is serious in general, so you can't expect any jokes from him. Still, you can get to see him smirk, which is at least something, right?

   ༺☆༻

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

Perfectly smooth just like the rest of him. He doesn't even have the built-in ability to grow hair by his free will like I hc demons to have.

   ༺☆༻

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Intimacy is a bit hard thing for Luci, but he's willing to try it once he trusts someone. It's rare, but it can happen like with Gamigin. Prepare to break down a lot of thick walls, though.

   ༺☆༻

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He' never done it nor has the need to do it. That's until his partner comes along. I imagine introducing Lucifer to the idea by suggesting mutual masturbation as a way to spice up things. At first he needs a bit of help with pushing himself over the edge, but eventually even overcomes the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he's doing something wrong.

   ༺☆༻

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

In cannon it's Dacryphilia and honestly, I'm here for it. For my personal hc's, I'd say Luci is into religious roleplay, maybe even a bit of corruption kink. (Diabolik Lovers anime has this one church scene where one of the vampires has the MC pinned to the altar and that scenario still lives in my brain rent-free)

   ༺☆༻

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

There's still a part of Lucifer that reminds him that sex is something shameful, so he prefers to keep it behind locked doors and preferable when everyone is sleeping. Now I'm not saying he absolutely wouldn't do anything outside of it – I mean we literally have that horse card. It's just that he's the most comfortable when he knows nobody will interrupt.

   ༺☆༻

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing his partner do something adorable/pure. Like playing with and feeding the animals that follow Morax everywhere. Or seeing his s/o excitedly talking to Gamigin about something they're passionate about. Each moment seems to make him fall for them even more.

   ༺☆༻

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Don't. Touch. His. Back. And. Wings. They're still very sensitive and painful. They also remind him of his past, which is a no-no while getting down and dirty.

   ༺☆༻

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oof. Well, good luck taking Luci fully into your mouth. That'll take some serious throat conditioning. It's like no matter which end he goes in, he always end up in your digestive tract. Getting eaten out from the fallen angel is also a kinda a bit of task – in the beginning. Once he's learned how to worship you properly? Oh boy, sign me up! Worshipping is one of the things he was literally made for.

   ༺☆༻

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.)

Lucifer likes to take things slow. The action of sex to him is a form of worship like I already mentioned, so why rush such thing? Plus, if he went any faster, he might accidentally rip your internal organs and healing those can be tricky even for a demon.

   ༺☆༻

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If it's necessary for his partner, then sure, but once again, he likes to take things slow to fully appreciate his s/o. The only benefit quickies have is that there's lesser chance that ingrained shame will kick in.

   ༺☆༻

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? Etc.)

Luci is up to trying new things. It kinda amazes him that after having lived for so long, there's still new experiences for him to have. Most, if not all things you want to try get a green light.

   ༺☆༻

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Stamina vise, he could go for hours. Interest vise? Well, that depends on his partner. I imagine it can be really easy to turn him off, so careful with the things you do/say.

   ༺☆༻

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No toys here. Even if his s/o introduces them, he'll be a bit hesitant at first. Seeing them be displayed alone would make him feel a bit guilty and shameful. Old habits die hard.

   ༺☆༻

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Exactly the opposite, actually. Lucifer is all about giving you more than you can take. Unless seeing him be so handsome while breaking down his walls counts as teasing. Then he'd surely win an award for it in Abaddon.

   ༺☆༻

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Very quiet. Maybe a few grunts here and there. The only time he speaks up is when he's raining praises about his partner's body. They're like small prayers falling from his lips.

   ༺☆༻

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Uhm... I kinda think that he would enjoy cucking. Can I say that? Is that too much? Like for example allowing Marbas to be released so he can watch them get absolutely railed to oblivion. Thinking about it further, he'd be okay with it bc he himself can't give his s/o his whole dick so he'll find someone who can.

   ༺☆༻

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Not really sure if there's anything new I can add. 30cm, very pretty. His dick is so good it even made a horse pregnant by just watching. Good luck finding a worthy competition for that.

   ༺☆༻

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Considering the angel-orgy-once-a-year thing, his body already got used to getting excited only around that time of year. That means he'll most of the year rely on his s/o, but once that time of year comes, oh boy. Good luck leaving his bedroom.

   ༺☆༻

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Our old man doesn't need sleep. Still, idk why but the image of him just rolling off his partner, sitting up on the bed against the headboard, turning the bedside lamp on and pulling out reading glasses to read a book, crossed my mind. Meanwhile they're just laying there, still coming down and processing their intense orgasm. It's funny, so I'll stick to that ig.

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 2

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,899 of 5,084 Prev | Next

AO3 Link

The Markets of Oz are normally packed during the daytime, ladies coming and going to get groceries and maybe a new dress or two, but they are flooded during the night markets of Lurlinemas. If you have the chance to look without getting swallowed in the waves of the crowd, you can see green lights strung from brick building to brick building (the bricks painted green for lack of renovation funds), newly built stalls in the main square that sold roasted quail for a quarter, and a great Spruce that had been brought in from Winkie Country, its top cresting just past the meager buildings that boxed in the square. Emily tugs me along as I admire the great golden star that was perched atop it, emeralds chiseled into the shape of snowflakes adorning each tip.

"If we move any slower they're going to run out of hot chocolate," she says, pulling me by my elbow.

The hot chocolate in the night market is one of a kind, spiced with warm cinnamon and sweetened to the point that it hurts your teeth. If I could have it year-round, I think I would like that very much, even if I did eventually get sick of it. I follow after her in our immediate quest, trying to shoulder oblivious men and women out of the way.

"How many presents do you need to get?" I ask as we get in line for the cocoa.

Emily pulls her green-gloved hands out of her pocket, silently ticking off her checklist on her fingers. "Six," she says.

I try not to drop my jaw at the idea of such wastefulness. I'm not sure there are six people that I could call friends, much less that I would be willing to spend my wages on for silly presents. In truth, there was one, but she would chastise me if I tried to get her anything. Still, I couldn't help but wish for something to get her.

We order our hot chocolate and sip it as we stroll through the sea, dipping and dodging any particularly rude costume choices. We had stuck to our uniforms, hiding them under the woolen pine-colored peacoats that were standard issue for when we had to lend an extra hand in shoveling off any balconies that got covered in snow during the wintertime. There was no option for us to have extra extra wide-brimmed hats or wired puffy sleeves that were the size of small dogs. Even if we had the option, I don't think that I would have done it on a regular market day, much less in the nights leading up to Lurlinemas.

Emily stops at an ornament seller and takes her time browsing the brilliant sun catchers and rhinestone-encrusted baubles. The glass and “sodering” (I’m sure it’s silver-colored glue) look far too flimsy, so I tell her I'm going to the next booth to look at ribbons and laces. The price of laces haven't gotten any better (in fact they had gone up by 6 cents) but I look at them anyway.

Most clothing could be mended, but there was only so much to be done about laces as they became more and more unraveled. If you had a friend in the mailroom, you could persuade them to let you borrow some rubber cement to stick the frays back together. If you didn't, you had to dip the tips of your laces in the wax of your candle at night. The wax didn't last nearly as long as the cement, usually cracking off within a day or two. I wasn’t friendly with anyone in the mail room, so I had slowly been shortening and dipping my laces until they just barely tied in a regular knot.

My eyes flicked over the shades of olive and forest and moss, until they had reached the box of ribbons. There is a skip in my heart as I remember how the Wizard had tied the ribbon in my hair just days ago. If I close my eyes, I can feel his hands guiding the ribbon up from the nape of my neck and the warmth that radiated from them as he tied the bow in place. If it is true or not, in my mind he has a smile when he looks at me after. I wonder if these ribbons would make him smile like the one I still have in my hair, if they would make him...

I have to look away from the ribbons for a brief moment. The thoughts I had of him since that day have not been pure and kind. They are selfish. I know that they will lead me down a path of trouble if I linger on them. I have my sister to think about and it would not do if I were to lose my job at the palace. I could not save her from the children's home, but they still let me visit her and send her things. I don't send her much, most of it disappears within a few days, but I bring her sweets if I have time to swing by the bakery after I am no longer needed for the day.

Looking back at the ribbons, I can't help but wish I could get one for her. I want her to feel as pretty as I did that day in the Wizard's bedroom. The kids would have a harder time taking the ribbon from her if I braided it into her hair, away from their jealous hands. My eyes flick up to the price card that is held in a coily golden wire stand. 200 cents! It's more than double the price of the laces.

I bite my lip, but my mind is already made up. I look at the shop lady, but she has her back turned attending to the till and adding pennies to it from a green paper sleeve. I snatch a pistachio-colored satin ribbon and shove it into the pocket of my peacoat. Quickly, I slip back out into the crowd of people, heading back to Emily in the ornament booth.

I'm jerked back, my forearm locked in an iron grip as it is hoisted high, so high above my head that I'm afraid my shoulder will dislocate.

"Hey!" I shout.

"There is zero tolerance for stealing in the Emerald City," The man says. I scrape my tiptoes against the ground to get a better look at him and realize that I've been detained by one of the Emerald City's Royal Guards. The green coat with gold trim and accents is unmistakable, accompanied by a sharp green officer's cap.

"I didn't steal," I lie.

He fishes into my coat pocket and pulls out the ribbon that I had stashed in there. "Is that so?" he says. My shoulder burns as he drags me back to the lace and ribbon booth, chucking the spooled-up ribbon back to the shop lady. "Sorry about that, Hazel. Street rat."

I can't help it as the words come flying out of my mouth, “I am not a street rat! I work at the palace!"

"Good," he says. "Then I know where to take you. Lets me get off my shift earlier at least."

He lowers my arm, only to twist it up behind my back, his other gloved hand grabbing hold of the collar of my coat. I shout at Emily, trying to fight against him as he marches us past the ornament booth, but I'm not sure she heard me. She has a confused look on her face as I'm dragged off, but she doesn't do anything to interfere. We may share a bed in this cold weather, but she's never been the type to stick her neck out for anyone, no matter how big or small the injustice. I wouldn't expect her to start with me.

By the time we get to the palace the hand behind my back is numb from the position and the cold air. The shame and fight has long since left my body, my mind trying to focus on how I will provide for my sister and me, or even if I will be allowed to see her again. Do they let criminals into the children's home? Would they even let me stay in the Emerald City? I try to remember what happened to criminals that were detained in the palace. There had been a boy in the kitchen who had been caught with a whole ham hock in his bag when the kitchen staff was closing up one night this past summer. It had been such a scandal -- it was all the staff could talk about for two whole weeks straight -- but in the end, I could not remember what had become of him, only his original crime that had been passed on by those who had been in the kitchen when the joint had been discovered.

We don't go through the main doors, neither the servant's entrance, but rather a side door that I had never seen before. It must have been for guard use only. They crawl the castle like an infestation of ants, so it only seems natural that they, like ants, would have cracks and crevices to aid their coming and going. It's dark, but soon I see that we are in the main entryway. If I can remember correctly, the guards' barracks and offices occupy the left wing from the audience room (convenience for removing unruly guests from the days of King Pastoria, I suppose). Most in the Wizard's personal service have no reason to go there.

The Wizard. There's a sort of heavy disappointment that sits like an oversized and cold jewel on my chest, deep beneath the layers of wool and scarves and uniform. It's not the disappointment that a child might feel under the disapproving eye of a parent, no. It is something entirely unfamiliar: an anger at myself that I might never see him again, that my last impression on him will be one of a thief. But wasn't that what I was? I had stolen the ribbon, no intention of paying.

The guard marches me up through the darkened emerald halls, passing the large pillars, the walls carved with their sharp geometric designs. I take in the sight of all of it knowing that it will be my last time seeing any of it. We're crossing the audience room, the heart of the entire palace, and nearly to the other side when I see him.

He's in a deep green almost black suit. The lapels of the jacket are peaked giving him the appearance of being even taller than he already is. He's talking to a stocky man, at least two heads shorter than him and twice as wide, wearing the uniform of the palace guards with a few additional golden cords strung over his chest that my jailer doesn't have.

I try walking faster, dragging the guard who had my arm pinned behind my back. I don't want him to see me like this. Better to just have all of my stuff gathered and thrown out the back door with me than to disgrace myself even further.

"Uh…Guard," a voice calls. I know it's his. I hate that I know that it's his.

My captor stops in his tracks, spinning us around to address the two men. "Captain," he says, giving a nod to the shorter man.

The Wizard has a confused if not irritated look on his face. I can tell that I've made him upset. How poorly must this reflect on the palace if members of his staff are getting arrested in the street? He says, "Are you going somewhere?"

The guard looks to the stocky man who gives him a subtle nod of the head. "Street rat," my captor says. "I caught her stealing in the market. I'm taking her to booking and calling the head of staff for the palace. She said she works here."

"Well, yeah," the Wizard says. "I can see that. Anyone can see that." He approaches me and pinches the thick wool of one of my coat lapels in between his thumb and forefinger. I try not to look too hard at the gold ring on his thumb as he drags it back and forth lazily against the material, stroking it as if to assess the warmth of the garment. "She's wearing a palace coat. Initials on it and everything."

My captor seems tongue-tied by this, I can hear his mouth open, a gasp for air as if to say something but nothing comes out. I dare to look up and see that the Wizard has his eyes locked on him. The way he's looking at him with those amber eyes reminds me of grade school, when we learned about the flora and fauna of Oz in biology. When talking of tigers, our teacher had told us that if you could see their eyes through the grass it was already too late. You had been stalked for hours before even noticing and they never got close enough for you to notice until you couldn't get away even if you tried. Foolishly, he tries, saying, "I need to take her to booking. She is a stain on the image of the palace."

The wizard drops my lapel and walks back to the officer that is now resting his hand on the pommel of his sword. It makes me nervous, but I'm not sure for who. Would they execute me right here in the audience chamber? I wouldn't be the first. The Wizard bends down and whispers something to the officer. I watch his eyes tick back and forth as he processes the secret.

"Guard," the officer says, "Leave her to me. I am sure you are wanted back in the square. Where there is one thief there is sure to be more."

I can't see his face, but I know that my captor is annoyed. He'd been hoping to clock out early and now he had to walk all the way back down to the market square. That brings a smile to my face as I hear the hesitant click of his boots and feel all the blood start rushing back into my arm as he lets me go.

We stand there, the three of us, until we hear the loud echo of the door shutting. The short man salutes the Wizard and makes his exit. The smile drops from my face as I realize what little law and witnesses there were had just walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the tiger.

"Stealing?" he says, cocking his head to the side. Immediately, he sets to pacing around me.

"It was just a ribbon, Your Wonderfulness," I say. My shoes have become infinitely more interesting to me, noticing the way even the stitching of the leather to the soles was starting to fray near the toes.

He laughs and it is quiet and deep, sending a prickling from my shoulders down my spine. "Did you like the first one that much? You could have asked for another."

"It wasn't for me," I say.

I can feel him tug on the braids that wrap my head. I had woven the ribbon into them earlier today. There hadn't been a day where I hadn't worn his ribbon since I got it. It was risky, and eventually Emily or someone else would catch on, but I didn't want to leave it in my nightstand and come back to find it missing, pilfered by someone's sticky fingers. So I had woven it into my hair where no one could take it, where the Wizard was now tracing its crooked and dashed path against my scalp.

"You are a terrible liar, missy" he says. "What are we going to do with you?"

Let me go? Kick me out of the palace? In truth, I wanted things to just go back to the way they were, no ribbon, no staff suspicions, just me and my chores and the shared bed with Emily. My voice quavers as I feel his finger stray from the twisted path of the ribbon, wandering onto the pulse of my bare neck, stopping underneath the corner of my jaw. "I won't do it again," I choke out.

"Oh, I have no doubt of that," he says. "But you can't be trusted. To have a thief in my staff... well, it would just cause too many problems. First ribbons, next other things..." He completes his circle around me and I find myself facing him again.

"Are you going to kill me?" I ask.

He smiles, revealing to me a flash of hungry white teeth. Too late. He says, "Do you want me to?"

I shake my head, my lips stitched together in case any wrong words should fall from them.

"Such a fascinating creature," he says, perhaps to me or perhaps to himself. "I'll deal with you tomorrow. Why don't you go upstairs and get some rest? I have... things to arrange."

He leaves me there in the audience chamber, shaking. If you see them, it is too late. I am standing there, head still on my shoulders, and yet I know that I haven't escaped. If you see them, it is too late.

[channieismyboy]

chanel chance

{dilf!seonghwa x f!reader}

synopsis: How can y/n endure living with Mr. Park for 3 days when all she can think about is him... and he's nowhere to be found

masterlist | chanel chance - part 4

warnings: this one has some small spice (blink and you'll miss it), age difference (y/n is 21, seonghwa is 29), eventual smut, kind of slow burn, sad attempts at humor

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

"Stay with me," I uttered without even fully realizing what I had just said. I can see the slightly shocked expression plastered on her face, doe eye widening, did i go too far?

"I really can't. I don't wish to intrude like that." she says waving her hands nervously in the air while giving a small sheepish smile. Why did I ask her to stay with me? Why is she nervous around me? I cock my head to the side and shrug.

"Unless you have anyone else to turn to, I'm your best bet Ms. L/n. You won't be intruding anyway. I'm not uncomfortable with it and I think Jieun would be delighted to have you over for 3 days." Hopefully this can convince her more.

She exhales while blushing slightly. What is going on inside her mind? And why does she look so cute thinking to herself? I can't be thinking these things right now...

"I'll stay with you."

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

It's been decided. You will be staying at Mr. Park's home. You begin to think about what might occur when staying with him, still shocked at his unexpected kindness.

You arrive at your apartment building after driving for about 30 minutes. Most of the ride was spent on call with both your uncle and aunt explaining the situation. As Mr. Park drives closer to the building you see many fire trucks and police cars located around it. The scene bustling with people going in and out of the building holding suitcases and various bags.

"This must be your place right?" he states the obvious, eyes still on the scene.

"Yeah, it's no mansion," you laugh awkwardly. "Alright, I'll be right back. Just give me about 20 minutes and I'll be done packing," you state while exiting the car. "Let me help you," he says while swiftly leaving the car and promptly joining your side. Once again, you can't say no to the man.

You enter the building, trying to get through the commotion. It's a short walk to your floor. You reflect on your differing lifestyles on the way there. How modest and humble your life is compared to his extravagant way of life. You feel slightly embarrassed that Mr. Park is accompanying you as he now gets a more intimate glimpse into how you live.

"This is it," you say while unlocking the door to your apartment, getting a small peek inside of it. Your eyes widen and you realize that your place is a complete mess. Since your roommate left, there have been many leftover boxes scattered around your place. You don't need Mr. Park to see just how messy your place can get. However, you can't just leave a goddamn ceo waiting outside. You quickly close the door and face Mr. Park. "Uhm, why don't you wait out here for a sec?". He nods in agreement.

Luckily he agreed. "I won't be long," you say then slip inside and immediately scramble to make the place somewhat clean. Stuffing whatever junk you don't need in a distant closet, and cleaning the kitchen counter of any leftover pots and pans. Once you deem the place tidy you open the door for him slightly out of breath. "Please come in."

Mr. Park enters and walks with his hands in his pockets while looking around. You double check to make sure you didn't forget to put away something. "Can I offer you anything, Mr. Park? Tea? Coffee? Water?"

He smiles at your cute attempt at welcoming him. "Sure, I'll take some water," he says and places himself at the small kitchen island. You grab one of your nicer cups, reaching for it as it's on the top shelf, since you never use them. You can feel his stare on you.

Mr. Park's eyes glance at your frame, eyeing you while reaching for a glass and glances at your skirt that is now slightly ruffled up. It barely exposes where the black stockings you're wearing ends, he can't look away, he eyes the lace detail and the straps attached to it. You look so beautiful and- Whoa. He needs to stop thinking about this. Mr. Park averts his gaze and stares at the floor beside him with a faint blush on his cheek.

You place the glass water with two ice cubes in it, in front of him. Mr. Park clears his throat slightly and thanks you kindly while staring at you directly in the eyes. "I'll just be in the other room packing," you say while heading to your room.

Was that? You think it was... A faint blush on Mr. Park's cheeks? Maybe you were imagining it. However, you could've sworn you just saw it...

You grab the biggest suitcase you can find and begin to pack your things. Shirts, bras, underwear, pants, socks, pajamas. All the necessities, neatly folded and placed into your suitcase, cleaning up and closing the opened drawers as you go. You place your skincare in there as well. Then you pack your backpack with your laptop, textbooks and pencil case, along with a variety of chargers. You swear you're forgetting something and look around and then spot your perfume bottle. As you reach for it you hear Mr. Park speak.

"I adore that scent you know; it goes well with you." he says while leaning against your door frame, you smile at his compliment. Why does this man always lean against things? It makes him look too good.

"Really? When I first smelled it, I knew I had to get it. Even though it would make me broke," you said while carefully packing it.

"Looks like you're running low," Mr. Park points out. While staring at the near empty bottle.

"Yeah, I'll have to stop by the store again. Hopefully when I have enough saved up."

You close up the suitcase and place it down on the floor. You reach for your backpack and then head to carry your suitcase, but you notice it's gone. Then you see it's already in Mr. Park's hands and he's reaching our for your backpack.

"Oh no it's really okay, Mr. Park. You do not have to carry my things." you say.

"But I want to Ms. L/N, that's why I'm here." he says and he grabs the backpack out of your arms and heads out of your apartment, leaving a dazed and flushed you inside. You take a moment to recollect and then exit the apartment, locking it behind you before walking with him back down to the lobby. You observe Mr. Park carrying your things with ease, swiftly walking down the stairs with them. You're quite shocked at that. You wouldn't be able to do it as calmly as him, needing some breaks in between steps to catch your breath. He's even holding the suitcase with one hand. It's nice of him to carry your things. He really did own up to his word, you remark.

You both reach his car and you tells you to enter the vehicle. You do, and wait for him to join you after he finishes placing your belongings in the trunk.

All of this is odd to you. You can't believe what is happening to you, and how nice Mr. Park is treating you. Maybe because it's late in the night, but you can't help but feel that Mr. Park might want you around him and intends to keep you close. No, no. You shake your head at your internal thoughts. Mr. Park is just trying to help someone out in need. He barely even knows you. He's just being polite. That's all, right?

The ride to his place is spent listening to the rain from the storm. Suddenly Mr. Park receives a call from one of his coworkers. He glances at you, almost for permission to take the call. You nod eagerly, signaling for him to accept the call.

Mr. Park sounds so different while conversing with his coworker. His tone is more serious and his aura completely shifts compared to that with his daughter. His voice is stern and somewhat commanding. He truly sounds like a ceo. He's dedicating himself to his work by accepting calls even out of working hours. You wonder just how many hours of the day and how many years of his youth he's sacrificed, to get to where he is right now.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

You're currently situated in the nicest guest room you've ever seen in your life. It has modern decorations and beautiful long windows overlooking the huge well-kept garden. You see a pretty array of lilac flowers and they look nice even in the nighttime. You plop on the bed and exhale. You reach for your phone and notice just how late it is. It's almost 12:30 AM. You then see many notifications from Minho and Jisung.

You spring up and realize you have much to share with them. You quickly send them many audios of you explaining what happened to you tonight. You then switch into your pajamas do your skincare while unpacking a few of your belongings into the nearby closet and set your alarm to wake up at 10:30 AM. You have two classes tomorrow and the earliest one starts at 12:30, but you don't want to be a bad guest and sleep in.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

After showing Ms. L/n her room and biding her a good night, I head to my room.

I still can't believe I told her to stay with me. Without a second thought I just blurted it out. I've never done anything like this before. Many of my female coworkers always ask to stay at my place, but I never allowed it, besides Laura. So why her? She's been on my mind non-stop, ever since I first laid eyes on her I felt a shift in myself, like something inexplicable was occurring inside me. Only one thing can be causing this. I feel my heartbeat quicken and my face flush. Do I have feelings for y/n?

I mean sure, she's gorgeous, anyone can see that. But she's also kind and adorable and the way she smiles makes my heart- oh god. I shake my head as I pace around in my room. Okay, maybe I'm just tired, I think while starting to wash my face, prepping for bed. I recall thinking the same exact things about y/n just a few nights ago.

I can't have feelings for her, I barely know her, I think while washing my face. Plus she's my coworker's daughter and Jieun's babysitter, I can't have feelings for her. However, the more I interact with her, the more she stays on my mind. I reach a towel and dry my face.

I head towards the bed and lay on it, staring at the ceiling, I feel a sense of deja vu. The only way to stop her from being on my mind is not not interact with her as much. How can I do that when she's living in my own home!? I'll just stay at work for as long as possible, until her apartment is ready. That way I won't think of her and all will be okay, I nod to myself. Yes, that will work.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

The next day you did not see Mr. Park at all. Not getting the chance to thank him yet again for allowing you to stay with him and Jieun. Your day was quite relaxing and you even got the chance to properly converse with Laura. She's so attentive and caring, you can tell that she genuinely enjoys taking care of Mr. Park's daughter. Heading to your afternoon lecture took a little longer as Mr. Park lives further away for your campus than you apartment, however you managed to arrive and head back safely. Still no sight on Mr. Park. You wonder if this is a normal occurrence as not even little Jieun is fazed by this, she is still her happy-go-lucky self and even more eggar to spend time with you. The day ended with a long call with Minho and Jisung, mouths wide open as you tell them all the details of last night.

-

The next day also passed calmly, the only thing missing yet again was Mr. Park. You swear you never even seen him enter the house or leave since almost two nights ago. You have one more night at Mr. Park's residence and then you are clear to head back into your apartment. You feel quite saddened by the fact you haven't interacted with Mr. Park and you also feel sad for poor Jieun, she seems to be missing her father dearly. As exemplified by the small tantrum she threw a few hours ago.

The day passes similarly to yesterday, attending your lectures, catching up on assignment, and spending time with Laura and Jieun. Laura reminds you of what a grandmother would be like, gentle, nurturing and force feeding. You don't think you can have anymore freshly baked bread she has made, but her face while handing you the next bowl makes you say otherwise. Laura shares a few details with you about Mr. Park. You learn that he does not have much family besides his mother and father. The fact that they are divorced when he was at a young age also affected him while being a lonely child.

You realize that you do in fact barely know much about Mr. Park and his life. You wish you could pry Laura some more and ask additional question about him, but you decide against it. No matter how much he makes your heart skip a beat he's your boss, gotta keep it professional.

The night quickly approaches and you're on the phone with Minho and Jisung at 2:25 AM, which is a big part of your nighttime routine.

"So you miss him?" Minho states after you explain Mr. Park's sudden disappearance. "No I do not," you say unconvincingly. Luckily Minho is still awake to chat with you before he goes to sleep, unlike a snoring Jisung also in the bed with Minho. "Sure, and pigs can fly," he quips back. The call ends soon and you decide to sleep but head to the kitchen to take a cold water bottle from the fridge to help quench your late night thirst. You make your way to the kitchen in just your small pajamas, a tight tank top with some shorts that are just a smidge too short. You figure no one would be up at this hour so you skip changing your garments.

You hear some clatters coming from the kitchen and inside the dark room illuminated via a small overhead lamp, you're face to face with Mr. Park in a tight tank top and some pajama pants. You freeze your tracks and just look into his eyes as he does the same.

When did he get here?

-

a/n: im having sm fun writing this yall!! i had to speed up some of the events in this chapter to get to where i want the plot to thicken and develop. it will get more intense soon i promise! love you guysss

Tagslist: @miamyre @flowersiinherhaiir @vvsmydiamonds127 @prodsh00ky @jhmylove @sunwoosberrie @jenotation @seonghwasstar @zwiehe @nagadiluc @kodzukein @heavenly-mobo @nevieatiny @smeetb0ne3 @yeosxxx @koalakoala8 @imalildelulu @sookacc @lunaa2210 @asjkdk @wal-nutt @iheartyeonjunnn @yoonsanbin @ateez-atiny380 @noiiny @slutologyy @discombobulatedrat @nopension

i may have not added everyone, if you wanted to be on the tagslist and you are not here, pls lmk so i can fix it next time!

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 11: A New Ally

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. (with updated upload schedule) ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 3.3k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ You come to forge a bond with an unlikely ally.

You were caught in a state of reverie as you walked from your room to the sick hall. Helaena had joined you that morning to break one another’s fast. Amara and Liriel were off their duties for the day and Helaena insisted she get you ready. The princess had become oddly invested in what you wore as of late. Likely her way of trying to spend more time with you. Though, if she asked, you would gladly just sit in silence with her if she wanted; it was always comfortable to do that. 

When she left, you were put in a dangerous position. Whenever you were not occupying your mind with work or talking to friends, your thoughts would drift towards Aemond. You would wonder what he was doing and immediately scold yourself. You had no reason for the sudden change in thoughts nor did you wish to even investigate why. It was better to constantly keep your mind occupied to avoid the real truth that hovered on the edge of your consciousness. 

So, when you walked into the corridor outside the sick hall to start your rounds, you were met with immense displeasure - and slight buzz - at seeing Aemond standing just outside the open doors. 

He had his arms clasped behind his back and appeared to be waiting for something. You walked closer and he turned upon hearing you approach. 

“Is there anything you need, your grace? I believe Daeron is in the laboratory.” You questioned. 

“I wish to be filled in on the patients. Seeing as my brother is occupied, I believe you can handle it.” Aemond informed you. Inside your mind, you cringed. Of all the things that would help you take your mind off that very elf, having him visit your place of work was not in the cards. 

“I was just about to make my rounds,” You walked into the hall with Aemond trailing behind. There was a station that the other healers used. In it were the aprons and supplies needed. You tied it around your waist and loaded various tonics, bandages, and herbs into the allotted pockets. All the while Aemond watched you get ready. 

“Is there a reason his grace wishes to invest himself in our research?” As you slipped the last of your needed supplies into the apron, you looked up at Aemond to find him already watching you.

He adjusted his stance from one foot to the next and scanned the large hall with his eye, “I’ve suddenly developed an interest in it.” You could not quite decipher the tone in his voice. Daeron never mentioned Aemond caring too much in this process other than occasionally asking for any significant updates – of which there was never much at all. 

You then gestured to the vast hall filled with rows of patients on cots. The space was illuminated by the large chandeliers and lanterns strung about. You wondered if you would ever get used to the perpetual darkness – a constant night – caused by the elder trees. It was uniquely beautiful, a mix of both eerieness and otherworldly sights.

“I must admit, my expertise when I came was largely on the taint’s effects on nature. Daeron has helped extensively in teaching me the physiological effects,” You began to walk. Many patients were in a deep sleep, so you would check over their body for any signs of symptom intensification while informing Aemond of all you could think about, “The taint infects them through contact with body openings. The speed at which it burns through the body varies and we have yet to figure out why.” 

You made sure to pace away from any of the patient's range of hearing. You leaned closer to Aemond, suddenly overcome by his increasingly familiar scent of burning wood, parchment, and spices. 

You made sure to keep your voice down, “That sectioned-off area at the end of the hall is where the late-stage patients are. Nothing seems to ease their pain and the visual effects of the taint are intense. They typically only have a day or two before…” Your voice trailed off and your face scrunched up in slight pain. Despite working under these conditions for a little over two weeks, you would never get used to the tug at your heart when seeing patients die.

Deciding it was best to move on, you went about treating other patients. All the while Aemond hovered close, occasionally exchanging words with the patients. Many of them were elves from the outskirts of the kingdom and rarely saw the king, so it was rather exciting for them to see him. 

Your mood took a turn for the better when you arrived at Lyra’s cot. She shot up in bed and reached out for you with an excited look on her face. She called out your name and let out a heartwarming giggle. 

“How are you, sweet girl?” You questioned as you sat on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m feeling better than I was yesterday,” She replied, “How is Lady?” 

You pulled the small doll from one of your pockets and positioned her to face Lyra. One of your hands gently picked up the arm and had the doll make a waving motion towards her. Lyra giggled and brushed the doll's hair with one of her hands. 

“Well, Lady has been an incredible help with my work. She likes watching the potions brew in my laboratory. I have also taken her on a few walks in the garden by my room.” You informed her. In the moment, you forgot about Aemond who stood close by and watched your exchange with Lyra. 

Lyra looked over your shoulder and her face paled, “Y-your grace.” She moved to bow but groaned in pain. You stopped her from moving and eased her back to lying down. You looked back at Aemond and tilted your head as if to order him closer. He moved to stand at the foot of the bed but still had a tenseness in his shoulders. 

He seemed to be at a loss for words to address such a young girl being condemned to a death bed, so you spoke up, “The king is here to check in on everyone. He cares deeply for his people and worries if you are all being treated well.” 

Lyra handed the doll back to you and addressed her king, speaking your name first, “She helps me whenever I need it and does the same for everybody else. She’s my best friend.” You sucked in a breath and tried to fight back the tears that pooled in your eyes. Aemond cast a glance towards you, something brewing behind his eye. There was a slight twitch of his right brow as he regarded you.

The sound of boots hitting hurriedly against the floor distracted you. Daeron came rushing down the aisle and stopped by the bed. His chest heaved and he took a moment to compose himself. You stood up from the bed and moved to rest your hand on his shoulder as he coughed. Aemond’s eye once again zeroed in on your hand and you quickly rescinded it from Daeron’s shoulder. You did not want him to get the wrong impression again. 

“The…” He wheezed to catch his breath, “The potions. They’re more successful than the previous ones.” 

His words seemed to catch you off guard and you grasped both of his shoulders, not caring about how it is perceived, “What?”

Daeron reciprocated, his hands resting against your shoulders. He looked into your eyes, “It is not a complete solution, but is damn well close, you genius.”

You jumped back and turned to Lyra, “Darling, I must go, but I will see you later. Then, we can talk about our plans for adventures.” You bring back a previous topic that you had been reluctant to do so again. On a previous visit, you did not want to give her hopes up for a cure but did express your want to take her to visit many places. Perhaps, now, you could fulfill that wish.

“Your grace,” You turned to Aemond, “Forgive me but I must head back to the lab with the prince,” 

The king made a quick motion with his head in dismissal, “I shall not keep you.” 

You and Daeron then shot away, dashing down the centre aisle and towards the laboratory. Emotions bubbled through your body. If Daeron was correct, then the progress made from the potions could be enough to narrow down the possibilities of a cure. 

In this kingdom and its resources, you had made more progress in such a short period than you ever had in your years of past research. It was more exhilarating and rewarding than ever.

It was pure exhaustion that led you to leave the laboratory in the late hours of the night. Daeron had shown you the progress both of the brews made on samples of plant matter. It only paused the deterioration of the taint, but did not get rid of it completely. Regardless, it had been a massive breakthrough. More pots had been made, with some of the other lesser elf healers coming to aid in the creation of them. 

If all went well, those potions could be tested on some of the willing patients late into the next day. Then, with the gods willing, the possible success of the plants can be seen in the body and distributed to the patients to stop them from getting increasingly ill. They would still be sick, but at the very least it would not lead to death. You and Daeron would be given more time to find a cure without the burden of losing patients.

You stayed with the healers in the creation of the potions, but Daeron had made you go after the fifth time of almost collapsing due to exhaustion. You were reluctant but acquiesced. It was, with great misfortune, that a particular elf interrupted your path. 

Criston Cole stood in your way. His armour reflected the torchlight from the walls. You could see the bitter smirk on his face and the intense malice reflected in his eyes. 

“I heard you’ve made some wonderful progress.” He taunted. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. While it was a habit Aemond had, Cole’s attempt at replicating it came across as juvenile. No ounce of command in the king’s presence could ever be mustered in an elf like Cole. 

You put up a strong resolve and prepared to take his pointless insults. While he had only ever directly talked to you in your first week while you were in the garden harvesting herbs, there were occasional moments when the two of you would be in the same area. He had, even from far away, made it easily known that he harboured a great feeling of disdain towards you. 

“We have indeed,” You paid extra care in reminding him that it was not solely you who had worked on the cure. No victory belonged to a single person in this fight. 

Cole got closer, his taller figure imposing, “Ah yes, how could I forget? My apologies, I do not know why I was so foolish to believe your kind could make such a feat.” 

He tried to get under your skin, but you would not let him, “No worries, Ser Cole. I do not blame you for forgetting such a simple thing, with all of your… overwhelming duties on the council.” You stood on the tightrope between civility and discourtesy. 

His eyes narrowed and you could tell his temper had flared. He then stood chest to chest with you and raised his arm. You stood with your shoulders straight, willing to take whatever he threw at you. Cole would not have you act out in violence towards him. Despite having made incredible progress here, your record was not entirely clean since your run into the woods. If you chose to attack an elf – especially a council member – no amount of advocacy on Helaena’s, Daeron’s or even Aegon’s account would save you from harsh punishment. 

As Cole narrowed in to strike you, a voice interrupted, “I hope I am gravely mistaken for what I am witnessing.” 

Aegon came forth from a corner at the end of the hallway. This time, at least for you, his state of appearance was new. He wore slightly better clothing and appeared to be in no state of inebriation. Was this all a dream or some weird hallucination? Was Aegon… sober?

“Pardon, my prince?” Cole questioned. 

“I said,” Aegon repeated as he came up to the elf and stood directly in front of him, blocking you slightly, “I hope I am gravely mistaken that you, an esteemed member of my brother’s council, were about to hit a lady.” 

Cole almost seemed to crumble. He took a step back and plastered on a fake smile. He laughed nervously, “My prince, that is absurd. I was simply pointing her towards her room.” 

“She needs directions in an area of the castle she has frequented for a few weeks?” Aegon raised his eyebrow in a challenge and turned back to you who stood behind him, “Is this true?” 

You looked at Cole and the face he gave you was full of agitation. As much as he mocked you, your answer could decide what would happen to him. If you admitted that he was going to strike you, his punishment could be severe – which is why there was an almost pleading look in his eye. It was incredibly pathetic that you almost felt bad for him. Almost. 

However, it would best keep this under wraps so that possibly in the future, he could owe you, “No, my prince. I am simply exhausted and disoriented. Ser Cole was helping me.” 

Criston deflated slightly, a breath leaving his mouth. Aegon turned to the elf and received a nod of confirmation. You could tell by the look on his face that he did not believe it in any way but nodded his head. 

“Ah, well then I shall escort her to her room. She will not need your help anymore, Ser Cole.” Aegon’s tone got harsher by the end of his words. He hooked his arm through yours and began to move you down the hallway, not even staying to acknowledge any more words from the elf. 

Once the two of you were carefully sequestered in your room, Aegon spoke again, “I have no idea why you would ever cover for such a lowlife craven bastard.” His words seemed to shock you by their intensity, but you could not argue against them. You did not know that Aegon harboured such resentment towards Cole. You thought that perhaps he may be jealous of Cole’s seat on his brother's council. 

“What is Cole’s problem?” You asked. 

Aegon went to the pitcher and cups on the table in your living space. He took the wine and poured himself a drink before settling comfortably into your plush cushions. He waved the cup around in his hand, “I do not even think the gods know.” 

You huffed out a small laugh and sat on the couch across from him. He quickly poured you a cup and you took it with grace. Elven wine had grown on you despite its strong nature and you found yourself preferring it over any of the wines back home. It was an observation you found yourself making a lot; how you tended to prefer things here than back in your home kingdom. 

The two of you spent a good while drinking and conversing in small talk. However, you glanced at the table you broke your fast at and saw your father’s journal lying there. You sat the chalice down on the low table between the couches and sat up from your relaxed position. You clasped your hands together. 

“Aegon?” You got his attention. He turned and saw your serious posture and expression and mimicked it, though more comical in the way his body swayed. “What do you know of Lake Rosmagne?” 

He seemed taken aback for a moment, as if surprised you did not ask an intense question given your serious nature, “Can’t say it is of particular importance. It is a lake associated with light magic, but most of the lakes in our borders possess magical qualities. Why do you ask?” 

You bite your lip and contemplate confiding in him. While not as trustworthy as Daeron, you did not feel like this was something to inform him of nor was he always willing to go along with your ideas. Helaena may not give you the answers you seek in her attempts to keep you safe; something you did not blame her for. 

Aegon on the other hand, does not hold the same intense desire to protect you as Helaena does. He lacked the restraint and composure of Daeron. For a while, he was the perfect candidate to confide in. 

“My father wrote about going to that lake for his studies. It had something to do with a hunch. It was his last entry before his disappearance.” You confessed. You picked up the chalice again and took a sharp swig. The cup was cradled in your lap and your fingernails scrapped against the markings carved in the gold plating. 

“You think my brother had something to do with it?” Aegon asked. 

“Why does everybody always involve Aemond with my issues?” You questioned exasperatingly. 

“I did not specify which brother.” Aegon smirked and took a sip of his drink before continuing, “Look if you think there is something truly awry, I could help you.”

“Why would you want to help? You did not know my father.” Your face scrunched up.

“That is true, but do you see me doing anything else? The duties I do have are impossibly boring.” Aegon yawned and set the cup down. He walked to your door and opened it. He paused and turned back around. “You are also my friend now… and possible good-sister soon.” 

You sighed loudly with frustration, “I wish not to repeat myself to anyone but Daeron is nothing but a treasured friend.” You tried to reason. 

Aegon gave you a coy smirk and repeated his previous words, “I did not specify which brother.” Before you could even think to respond, he left your room and shut the door. You were left in your room, drink in hand, wondering what possible meaning could be behind his words. It was like a cryptic message or some frustrating childhood riddle that could not be solved no matter how hard you tried. 

You decided it was best not to dwell on it and get ready for bed.

It was the next day and you had been skipping down to the hall to get to work. All night the potions had to be brewing and you were excited beyond belief. There was a joviality in your step you had not experienced in many years. You planned to check in on the patients and see if any were willing to volunteer themselves to test different dosages of the potion. Then hopefully, there could be a path to delaying the intensity of the infection in the elves and gain more time for finding a cure. 

You turned the corner to see the entrance of the sick hall. The doors were opened and Daeron stood there. His shoulders were slumped and his expression was brokenhearted. Redness surrounded his eyes and he appeared to be on the verge of tears. When he saw you, he stepped forward to stop you from entering the hall. Daeron’s hand grabbed your forearm gently and his eyes conveyed sympathy with hints of agony. 

Your mood immediately dropped, “What is it?” 

He opened and closed his mouth, unable to get the words out. You spoke again, “Daeron, what has happened?” 

Daeron spoke your name and his voice cracked at the end, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Chapter 12: Death's Sting Preview

Aemond stood tall, his one eye trained on you. There was a determination that swirled in those orbs along with something indecipherable. You were confused as to why he had come to visit so long into your grief or even come at all. 

“You have an hour to pack,” Aemond informed. 

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[azure-cherie]

PAC : How are your guides / angels / God's / ancestors / working for you

Hellooo , how have you guys been ❤️?? Please choose the picture / pictures that resonate with you , know that this is a general reading and everything might not resonate, i hope a lot of does for you ❤️

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Pile 1 :

Dear pile 1 , what I receive is your guides/ spirits gods have been preparing you for a journey , they are throwing on opportunities for you to multitask , travel by air is significant for you guys for the coming months , things are going to spice up now , you will learn how to live , i believe lot of you here are young adults or just got into adulting , they are protecting and teaching you lovingly the ways of the world , they are teaching you how to handle responsibility in the real world .

They are taking in charge to work out some debatable situations so that you can practice your communication skills more , to argue with someone is a thing and to learn to keep your self respect and keep your point is another that's exactly what your guides have been planning on , they are making sure you can always find a common ground in a discussion always keeping your point with integrity

Practicality is something they are pushing you towards if you hear a voice while you study that you can do it it's them the lovely gods !!!! If you are motivated to plant seeds in your garden it's them the lovely gods!!!!! If you hear a voice while overspending that you are infact doing it's it's them the lovely gods !!!! They are keeping this check on you so that you can take valuable decisions in the future

They are lifting you of burdens and tell you to keep going in the journey, protecting you from a person who has been trying to lurk on your energy because they feel victimized from you but you aren't even doing anything to victimiz them , they just need to heal , you should keep going they are working really really hard to keep you on your toes , they are also motivating you to do more things that you love and are offering you a period of transformation, searching and rebirth with the death , fool and Ace of wands in order , it's such a time for you to grow and while the celestial beings give you infinite nourishment belive in yourself and that you are capable of big big thingssss

Ace of wands gives you a new life now it's the time to be courageous you know it all you just have to apply what you know already all the best to you love ;)

Charms : fish , bunny , tambourine, tree of life , sun , ice skater , heart , love letter , four leaved clover , cat , leaf ; letter - T , J ; number - 333 , 666 .

Songs : Brightside by The Lumineers, DNA by Kendrick Lamar , Vanilla Baby by Billie Marten , Fade into you by Mazzy star , Cold water by Justin Bieber .

Pile 2 :

Dear pile 2 , your guides are literally creating space for you , now it's the time to evaluate that what you are doing is really something that you want are you really into it ?! Are your decisions something you will not regret in the future or are you just acting on the spite of the moment , is it worth it ??? I think you guys are choosing a new degree or a new college or a new job in life , a lot of stuff is ending and you are on a cliffhanger whether to take what you already have or aim for more , you know the thing about working for the things we want isn't an act of greed you literally are hustling for it , go on love aim soooo bigggggg

Alright so what I see from the cards is that you might be taking a very big decision in your life thinking about love or thinking about a lover of yours , they are holding you back , I'm sorry to say that but it's the truth , eventually the surroundings and the people have to change , believe in the power of changes and let go of the old stuff there's literally so much more to look forward to , they are teaching you to look for the right thing at the right time , it's hard but this is an essential lesson , be good to yourself

They are making sure that This new phase in your life will bring you new love and new friends that would feel like a family, you will get what you have been longing for . That's so beautiful I'm so happy for you , spirit still wants you to take in less responsibility, one thing about you is you get too much into the lives of people you love some people like it while others don't appreciate it so in the next phase of your life you are required to just focus on the fun and be great with 2-3 people don't get too much into fights, be the mediator take things from one ear and throw it off the other or i believe that you literally will be crying, it's better to be on your own and care about less people, that doesn't mean the love or care you find newly in your life is fake it just means they are very different people with hard exteriors so it will take time to get close to them , take this slow alright.

You have lost only to gain babyyyyyy , whatever has left you has only left you space for so much more , i see more spiritual growth for you , gifts , if you are a reader , more clients , jobs , offers coming your way , all of it is because of your mindset and how beautiful it is , you will be so blessed I can feel it , they made sure that for all the struggles you get a gift and they are creating pathways for you to be in a leadership position you will soon be taking the responsibility and you will take it so well , you know a lot about the world and life in itself and now you are going to use it in such an amazing way !!!!

Charms : pentagram, flower , tennis racket , hammer , pearl , Christian cross ; letters : D, Z , M , P , N ; numbers : 555

Songs : $$$ by Daniela Andrade , Dynamite by BTS , Talk by Khalid , In too deep by Jacob Collier , idontwannabeyouanymore by Billie , Royals by Lorde .

Pile 3

Dear pile 3 , your guides are now teaching you the worth of emotional wealth , the financial wealth is something that you really value but there's some stuff that is literally not worth your time and energy, they are telling you to step in the aura of your authentic heart and how kind it is , how loving it is don't leave it behind , it could also mean that you are spending too much out of kindness , they are making sure you have enough for yourself, you earn to buy things to feel better , don't be guilty while you serve yourself, you truly ardently deserve all of this . They are making ways in which you can make more connections with people to do well in your professional life , if you're someone who's into a psychology profession , they are making ways for you to have more hold on your conversations while working with a client , your advice giving skills are improving so much.

I see them bringing in a new lover in your life , this person is very romantic and loving and caring and giving , i really wanna tell you that your prayers have been heard , if you have ever felt that you are not chosen first this is the time to be literally chosen , you are so so valued rn , this will get you out of sadness or depression, they could be the golden retriever type . I see that you are looking for something long term and they might be the right choice

If you have been looking to travel they are helping you in go for them , by creating pathways , they wanna tell you that a phase in your life has come to an end and how you are to go to a new one and this one will need a lot of courage because there will be malicious people but you will work so hard and take what is rightfully yours , your fire burns greater than their envy and you will rise win and conquer what is yours no matter how frustrating this might seem , you are meant for the greater things.

With the reading ending with the magician, you are gonna alchemise your life all over 360 and they are gonna support you so so so much , all the good things are for youuuu , if you're a tarot reader , you will gain more wisdom, intuition and the power to read others even better now , wish you the besttt !!!!!

Charms : key , stethoscope, leaf , sun , moon , love letter , witch , camel ; letters - S, Y , H , N , V ; numbers - 222, 666 , 555

Songs : Million dollar man by lana del rey, Whispers by Halsey , It's called freefall by Rainbow kitten surprise, Good looking by Suki Waterhouse, Through me by Hozier , Northern lights by Kennie .

Thank you so much for reading i hope you resonated, please let me know if you did it really helps me .

Have a great day/ night ❤️

[rebelliousstories]

Spices

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Marko x Reader

Fandom: The Lost Boys

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,381

Main Masterlist: Here

Lost Boys Masterlist: Here

Summary: Christmas time brings out a variety of smells that Marko’s human girl is more than happy to introduce him too, and even have him introduce her to some.

Consider Donating: Here

Christmas was about being together and sharing. Nothing was easier to share than delicious food and drinks. And when two people come from two different cultures? Oh, now that is a match made in Christmas heaven.

Marko was happily being dragged through the night market the next town over from Santa Carla by his girlfriend one winter’s night. It was a brisk sixty-eight degrees, meaning that she was bundled up ever so cutely. Her customer jacket made by the vampire next to her was holding a hoodie together underneath, and a long sleeve under that. It was not at all difficult for them to find one another considering how eccentric their jackets were, but that was just how they liked it.

“Come on, Marko! The stall is this way.” Her cheerful scream broke free from the ambient noise around them. He continued to follow after her, laughing occasionally as she got more and more excited the closer they got.

The stall she had mentioned was gorgeous. Spices from all over the world sat in large quantities across multiple tables. There were whole spices and herbs, dried and fresh, ground in various grades; it was perfect. It was something that Marko had not seen since being turned. Human food had little effect over him now. His body processed it too quickly to be full from it. And he was pretty sure that, even as weird as the vampire world was, spicing blood was considered odd.

His little human began to peruse the piles for everything that she needed for her own Christmas treats. She was placing normal things into pouches for purchase; cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, rosemary, thyme, oregano, peppercorns, and more. Marko was just enjoying watching her shop, but came to rest along her back with his hands on her waist.

“Hmm… Marko,” he hummed in acknowledgement, “do you think I should get anything else? I have the usuals that I’m low on, but it would be a shame to come here and not try a new spice or two.”

“What are you making this season?”

Her list was rattled off almost too fast for him to keep up with, but he got it eventually. It sounded like the usual menu for this time of year. Roasts, pies, spiced cider, and cookies of different kinds.

“Try that.” He pointed to a pile of what appeared to be dried flowers.

“That’s called Blade Mace. It’s like nutmeg but not as strong. It’s good in savory and sweet dishes when you don’t wanna go too heavy in nutmeg flavoring. Also, get some of that black garlic over there. That’ll change up your roasts in a good way.”

With his suggestions, she made quick work of collecting the items. She made sure to take the time to smell each ingredient and gave her approval with each sniff. Once everything was bagged and ready to go, the couple joined the queue for the checkout. However as they rounded the corner, a specific scent caught Marko’s nose. This was a smell he had not smelled in decades, and was afraid that he would never smell again.

Sitting in a shallow barrel like container, were porcini mushrooms. His eyes grew wide, and his mouth hung open in wonder. The vampire barely registered that his feet were moving him away from his girlfriend, and towards the item that had snatched his attention away. As he allowed his eyes to rake over the mushrooms, and his nostrils to fill with their intoxicating scent, Marko felt a hand through the thick material of his jacket pull his attention back.

“You alright there, ‘Ko,” she softly asked him.

“Yeah,” he breathed a shaky breath, “it’s just… I remember these from when I was a kid. My Nona would use these in our Christmas meals to add this wonderful flavor. Specifically, she used it in a risotto that was served every Christmas feast. It was always my favorite thing on the table and she would make extra so that I could have my own dish of it.” The joy and childlike sparkle in his eyes moved her heart as she listened to her lover.

There was a beat of silence between the two of them. Quiet breathing filled the space, and the line moved again. But she did not care. Reaching for another bag, she grabbed a handful or two of dried mushrooms to take home. The action made the vampire jump out of his skin before looking towards his girlfriend with a confused expression. Tying off the bag, she sent him a wink and a smile as she moved to the end of the line once again.

“Let’s see if I can’t find a recipe for these involving some risotto.” Her teasing smile stunned Marko who just wrapped his arms around her. She giggled as he buried his head into her neck, pressing light kisses to her throat.

“I love you so much, bella.”

The next night, when Marko was able to get away from his brothers, he had made his way up to the steps of her house. His bike was resting outside on the curb. Three knocks was all it took to call her to the door, and the image that greeted him was amazing. She was in an apron that had just a couple of stains from the years. Her hair was up with some strands out, giving her a comfortable appearance. And that smile that stretched across her face? That was the killer for him.

“Marko! Welcome in, sweetheart.” They shared a kiss as he stepped inside, and placed his coat on the back of the couch.

“Smells good, bella.” A symphony of smells greeted him from the kitchen. Marko went to try and help her, but she quickly shooed him towards the dinning room without an explanation.

Sitting at the beautiful wooden table, Marko twiddled his thumbs, and messed with his fingers. Never once had she not let him help her plate or bring food to the table. He did not know whether or not that was a good thing. But the second she started bringing food out, he relaxed a bit.

His favorite roast chicken that she loved to make was joined by various vegetables and mashed potatoes. For all intents and purposes, this was a proper Christmas dinner. Before he could dig in though, Marko’s girlfriend hit him with, “wait one second,” and she disappeared into the kitchen again. When she came backs with a bowl, he did not know what she had. But once she set it down, he was able to see inside.

A simple bowl of risotto. Taking a smell, he could smell those delicious mushrooms that they had gotten the previous night. Before she could properly brace herself, Marko had tackled her to the ground. He had begun pressing lots of kisses to every inch of her skin he could reach.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Marko kept muttering in between each kiss he laid over her face and neck. Eventually he had to lead up as her hands had moved him to allow her to breathe. Her face was flushed and glowing, and her smile was beaming.

“You’re welcome, ‘Ko. Now, do you wanna eat the food that I made before it gets cold?”

The vampire rushed to stand up and helped his girlfriend as well. He took his place once more while she went to make sure everything was off. Marko began to divvy up the food once she got back, and they both settled in to their festive meal. As soon as Marko took a bite of the risotto though? It was all over for him. He legitimately thought he was going to cry over how good it tasted.

“Sweetie, you okay?” Her hand swiped against the droplet that had fallen down the swell of his cheek.

“Yeah, I’m just so- so happy. Bella, this tastes exactly like how I remember,” came his reply. She felt a surge of pride as she rested her hand atop his.

“Well, I can make you this every Christmas from now on.”

“Oh no. Now that I know you can make this, you’re gonna make this way more often. This is gonna be on the table every time now.”

[feybarn]

And I return with some ghost Obi. Thanks @queenaelinwildfire!

Spinning off of Sparky, ghost Obi haunting Jango Ooo bonus points if it’s smol obi wan

When the boy first appeared, Jango had been sure it’d been the spice. Hallucinations were hardly new and the young boy who stared at him with frightened eyes was hardly the strangest thing he saw. In fact, the boy who whispered warnings about when the slavers were coming, and told him that Neeva—the young togruta girl a few slaves down—was dying, and told him stories about men in white armor who died forgotten heroes, was perhaps the kindest hallucination that Jango experienced.

Except the boy didn’t go away. Not when Jango killed the slavers. Not when Jango detoxed. Not when Jango left behind all but the scars of his time with the slavers.

Jango hadn’t quite believed in ghosts before, but he had no other explanation for the boy that followed him unerringly from the slavers’ ship to Concord Dawn to the ugly, worn down ship he eventually acquired.

“You have a reason for haunting me, kid?” he asked.

The boy frowned. His hand came to his neck where a collar rested.

Jango had tried not to think about that particular accessory too much.

“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “I… I don’t remember how I got here.”

Jango was going to guess that the answer included ‘dying’. “You need help moving on?” Jango asked. Though he had no idea how he would help some ghost move on. Jaster would have, though.

Jango blocked out the thought.

“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “I don’t think so. I think I’m here for a reason.”

Great. A reason. That explained so much. “What’s your name?”

The boy’s brow furrowed. “I… I don’t know.” The boy sounded alarmed, as though he’d just realized he didn’t have a name.

Well, there went trying to track down where the boy had come from. All Jango had to go on was the rough mining clothes the boy was wearing, several sizes too large for him, and the collar around his neck.

Mining colonies weren’t exactly sparse in this galaxy. Even narrowing it down to mining colonies that used slavery didn’t help.

The Republic might claim that slavery was outlawed, but that didn’t mean much, Jango had discovered.

“Do you have a name you want me to call you?” Jango asked, because while Jango could keep calling him ‘the boy’ it seemed…

Wrong.

If Myles were here, Myles would have already named the kid. It’d probably have been something meaningful and well thought out.

If Silas were here, he’d have helped the kid come up with a name on his own. He’d have turned it into a game, until the kid didn’t even remember he was upset.

If Jaster were here…

Jango tried not to think about what Jaster would have done.

The boy frowned and Jango could tell he was thinking. “Obi,” the boy said finally. “I think… I think I like Obi.” 

“Obi,” Jango agreed. He wondered if it was the kid’s actual name, hidden in the depths of his mind. “You going to keep following me around?”

Obi tilted his head. “I think so. I don’t want you to be alone.” Obi’s gaze was piercing. “Are you going to go home?” he asked. “Now that you’re free?”

Jango swallowed. “I don’t have a home to go to.”

Obi’s eyes echoed with a terrible sadness. “You’re afraid.”

Jango closed his eyes. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said, words coming out short. 

“Sometimes I dream I can’t go home either,” Obi whispered. “In the dream, I want the desert sands to strip me to my bones.”

Jango flinched, but added the piece of information to the possibility of where Obi had come from. Though, there were a spare few mining colonies on desert planets. The combination was rarely conducive to the most valuable of mining operations.

“It’s not the same kid.”

Obi stared at him. “I think they’d want you to come back.” His hand rubbed at the metal collar around his neck again. “Wherever home is. They… they probably miss you.”

Jango scoffed. He’d gotten so many of their people killed, the ones that remained could hardly want him back. “Not likely, kid.”

“In my dreams, they died because of me,” Obi whispered.

Apparently being a ghost made the kid telepathic. Jango was not a fan. But it was… it was a kid, a dead kid. Jango didn’t have the heart to try to get rid of him, unless it was to bring him home.

“Just a dream, kid.”

Obi looked away. “What if it’s not? Do… do we never get to go home?”

Jango sighed. “Come on, let me teach you how to navigate in and out of hyperspace.” He’d noticed that the kid looked like he enjoyed watching Jango in the cockpit. Sure, the kid would never need the skills himself, being dead and all, but Jango didn’t know what else to do with the dead kid that was stuck with Jango.

Obi nodded, following Jango back to the cockpit. It was the end of the conversation.

Or it should have been. 

The question haunted Jango as the months passed. Would he ever get to go home? With the sins that weighed so heavy on his shoulders? It’d been years. Years as a slave and now nearly a year free.

He looked at Obi, who hadn’t aged since the day he’d found Jango in the hull of the slave ship. Just a kid. Always a kid. A dead kid that couldn’t go home. Whose closest thing to home was Jango and Jango’s ship.

Jango had been determined not to think of it, of what he’d lost, of what was gone, of what he could never allow himself to have again.

Do we never get to go home?

Was that why the kid was stuck as a ghost? Had he told himself he was never allowed to go home? Had he trapped himself in some sort of eternal punishment.

Jango had never heard of it happening before, but he wasn’t a scholar, and this universe was full of things stranger than Jango could believe.

Do we never get to go home?

Was that why the kid had found him? Because he saw Jango’s punishment as his own?

Because this life Jango lived now, constantly chasing the next bounty, with nothing but a ghost at his side… was it a life? Was Jango just as much a ghost as the dead kid that haunted him.

“Where are we going next?” Obi asked when the next hunt finished.

Jango stared at the controls on the cockpit’s dashboard.

Do we never get to go home?

Did he? 

The kid needed a home. Jango… Jango couldn’t give him the one he’d been taken from. But…

“Concord Dawn,” he said.

“Where’s that?” Obi asked. “Is there a hunt there?”

Jango shook his head. “No, kid. We’re going home.”

[ghostybaby000]

Never Yours | Part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Summary: He had seen blood hundreds of times before, but never from you. He didn’t know what to expect while listening to your cry’s on the phone praying you wouldn’t lose consciousness. 

Word count: 800

Warnings: violent theme, future fluff, weaponry use, blood, symptoms of panic.

(Not fully edited, apologies for any inconsistencies!)

He had seen blood hundreds of times before, but never from you. 

He didn’t know what to expect while listening to your cry’s on the phone praying you wouldn’t lose consciousness. 

He had just left. Just left minutes ago to get to the food for dinner tonight, when you called him huffing through tears trying to get air into your fragile lungs. 

‘Si-Simon please come home I can’t…I cant get up please.. please hurry everything’s spinning a-and there’s blood.’  Your sobs echoed through the phone as he fell still only for seconds in the spice isle at the local grocery store. 

He dropped everything he was holding, and sprinted out of the small store, paying no mind to the cars slamming on their brakes almost hitting him as he crossed the lot, or the people who were in his way when getting to the car that tried to curse at him or call him off. 

Now he was driving at dangerous speeds, swerving through cars giving no thought to anything but hearing your breathing through the phone. His world felt as if it were caving in from all sides and his heart felt stuck in his throat. He tried to talk to you as he pushed harder on the pedal to make it through an ending yellow light. 

‘It’s gonna be okay dove, what’s happened?” His voice cracking calling you his dove as he did every day, trying to remain focused on the road. He forced himself to sound as calm as he could, knowing that if he sounded panicked it would only make you more scared. Why did it feel like it was taking so long to get home? The phone clenched in his fists and beads of sweat forming on his face, the speedometer reaching far higher speeds than it should on the back road to your home. 

All he could hear were your distant groans and then a cry out, before continuing to sob into the phone. He had never felt a pain like this before, to feel so afraid for someone- wishing in every way to take their pains all onto yourself. Every groan he could hear, every whimper of his name in between sobs tore at his being in every possible way, making him feel more sick by the second. 

‘I know dove, I’m coming I promise you I’m coming. Don’t worry I-I’m almost there, you just need to stay with me. I’m almost home I promise.’ The tears welting in his eyes began to blur his vision as he wiped them away quickly onto his shoulder. He didn’t know what to say, he could only tell himself that reassuring you was the best thing. He was listening more intently than ever as your groans began to fade. 

‘Dove?’ I need you to talk to me.’ Please you can’t. You can’t stop talking to me, please. Say something.’ 

Nothing.

His foot hit the bottom of the floorboard of the car as he sped down your road. There were no thoughts after that, but simply action. In a matter of seconds, the door and locks he had installed had been beaten in viscously as he scoured the entire house for you, every piece of him torn between desperation of getting to you, and fear of seeing what had happened to you. 

He sprinted upstairs taking 3 steps at a time as he saw a boot mark on the door leading into your bedroom, and then the blood. The trickle of blood leading from the entrance to the bedroom towards the bathroom. Your blood was so much more real, so much closer to him and it made him panic more than ever. The next few moments felt like hours as he saw the splotches and eventual puddle of blood coming out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, you were in there. 

You were in there and hurt and he didn’t prevent it. He was here after you had been harmed and not been the one to prevent it or take it on himself. He couldn’t stop not even for a second to consider these thoughts as he ran to the bathroom door that had been broken in. 

There you were, laying on your back on the tile, the phone begin a foot away ,blood smeared on the screen. His world stopped. His entire body went numb and his blood ran cold. No amount of military or emergency training could have prepared him for this moment. He immediately grabbed you as delicately as he could and rushed down stairs, and out the door to the car. 

Neighbors had begun to come out of their homes hearing the speed of the car and crashing in of the door. Hearing a man yelling as loudly as he could for the name of his loved one through an echoey, quiet house. They saw him, in his blood covered shirt as he put his soul in the back seat of the car and sped off again, nobody was stopping him. 

[lunarw0rks]

OOOOOO, 141 boys + ale n könig—trying to get something but it’s too high up for your reach so you ask them for help but their belt gets stuck to the back of your jeans/pants and you both are in an awkward position….and they’re just like, ‘stop moving so much i’m trying to get it unstuck’ sndjndjdjd

『 simon 』 ── reached to the top shelf, retrieving a box of cereal for you, because he accidentally put it away on the highest one. he didn't notice he was stuck until he was about to walk away. you came with him, stumbling against his chest. "quit fuckin' squirming, i'm trying!" lowkey frazzled, but only because you were pressed so close to him. hates close proximity, with the exception of you, but this was too close.

『 price 』 ── you were trying to be nice. to let him sit back, relax, and have you make him some breakfast. well, nothing ever goes right, does it? you needed his help, and he was insistent on reaching for the spice you needed before you rolled your ankle. so, he did it, promising to sit back down and admire you in the kitchen. well… he ended up stuck to you, and he wasn’t exactly upset. “hm, guess you’re coming with me, sweetheart.” before you could think, he had untangled his belt from you, throwing you over his shoulder, and taking you upstairs.

『 soap 』 ── was standing beside you when he asked, and planned on just reaching up like normal. but you were on your top toes, and you were you, so he had to. he had to press his hips against your backside to retrieve the item. of course, one hand roaming your hip when he did it. then, stepping away, he heard his belt jingle, as well as the faint strain of fabric. this wasn’t embarrassing, not for him. this was another opportunity. “guess we can take ‘em off, then, huh?”

『 gaz 』 ── lowkey found it hilarious, too simple of a request to pass up. not you asking him to reach something [which he found adorable] but when he got stuck. “shit!” he hissed, laughing it off. the close proximity made his cheeks heat up, though. “hang on, hang on, love… god this is bloody embarrassing…” he ended up just taking off the belt, ending up flustered in silence afterward, dating or not.

『 alejandro 』 ── mr. smooth, was practically waiting for you to ask him. he admired your struggle from afar, stalling just so he could savor it. but then he eventually came over and retrieved the item. then, his knees almost buckled when he tried to walk away. instinctually, he grabbed your waist to prevent a fall. it was like that moment when your chair leans back to far and your life flashes before your eyes. yet, vocally he remained calm; "Cálmate, cálmate! I got you, amor."

『 könig 』 ── always, and i mean, always grabs stuff for you, before you can even ask. everything was going as planned, his stature used as your own personal delivery system for items unreachable. his belt didn't get stuck on you because he was standing behind you, no, it was because he was trying — and failing — to whisper something cheeky about the size difference. he ate his words quickly, ending up deeply humiliated as he fumbled with his belt. "let's not speak of this, liebling, hm?"

[mrs-kodzuken]

hard to desire ⨟ kenma k.

chapter one

can I call you tonight? dayglow

❝There's so much time

For me to speak up, but I keep quiet

I'll complicate most of the mantra❞

next chapter

"This is the coffee shop that I was telling you about," Kuroo gestured towards a small building that seemed to have a theme of dark academia and books.

The cafe didn't seem all that bad, you thought. It would be the perfect place to study before a huge exam, the tall windows which showed the beautiful inside were not forgettable. 

"It looks so pretty. Do you come here often after class?" You questioned as the little bell rang when Kuroo held open the door for you. A wondrous smell of coffee, books, and spice wafted into your nose. It could have been a bit overwhelming if you hadn't loved the scent.

It almost brings you to your favorite season of them all, which is definitely autumn. 

"No, only once in a while. This place is kind of pricey, but it gives good beverages and great seats." Kuroo chuckled, looking down at you as you scoured the menu. There were definitely a lot of choices to choose from and yet you still didn’t know what to pick. 

"See anything you like?" He asked as you guys stood off to the side – by the entry way that had a lot of books nearby.

"Hm, I think I would like to try the toffee crunch espresso? It seems good." You pondered on that, not really liking coffee but love to try different kinds once in a while.

"Sounds great. You go pick a seat for us and I'll get our orders." He patted your head and slightly pushed your forward a bit in case you decided to protest on the matter.

You rolled your eyes a bit at that but looked across the cafe to see where you wanted to sit. Eventually you decided on the floral printed sofa that had an antique wooden table to set the drinks on. This place was definitely one for the books.

Kuroo soon came back with the drinks and taking that first sip was always magical – until it gave you the shits later.

"Thank you for this. You didn't have to buy it for me, you know." You made a point at that, even though he knew that too. Your parents still give you an allowance, especially now more than ever too. They don't want you working your ass off in college at a dead-end job when you could be focusing on studies.

"I know, little one. But you're my favorite non-biological sister, so why wouldn't I?" He remarked, sipping his drink as the warmth fogged up his reading glasses that he only wears occasionally.

Your heart strings tugged at the nickname Kuroo used for you.

He had given you that name when you were very young and needed help on something so small at the time that your parents thought it was huge – your writing skills. 

"So, you have other not favorite non-biological sisters?" You snorted, as that sounded weird coming from your mouth.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved you off, rolling his eyes at your dumb question. 

"Okay, so, when can I move in? I was kind of wondering why we aren't there now and instead at a coffee shop." You raised an eyebrow at that. It was kind of weird Kuroo wasn't showing you where you were going to live for the next four years. 

"Well, there is something I was supposed to tell you about, but in all honesty, I kind of forgot."

You urged him to go on.

"So, I have a roommate too. His name is Kenma and he's super chill and goes to uni with me and I've known him since we were young." He spit out all at once, leaving you stunned.

"A roommate? How old is he? I mean, I haven't met him. What if he kills me in my sleep, Tetsu?" You can't possibly move in with Kuroo and his roommate that you don't even know! That's just crazy work, he was trying to get you killed.

"I promise Kenma is a good guy. He likes video games and cats. He used to play volleyball with me in high school. Like I've known him forever, there won't be anything to worry about!" He tried to reassure you. Tetsuro had promised your parents that he'd take extra special care of you once you got accepted into his university.

And right now, he hoped that you would look past not knowing Kenma very well and agree. It never really came up in the past letters about Kuroo’s social life – probably because of the age difference. Not only that but your parents had monitored all of your letter conversations till they got you a phone. 

"I mean... I guess it's fine," You trailed off a bit, wanting more time to think on it but then again, he's right in front of you. And Kuroo would never purposefully put you in danger, he's not like that. You’ve known him since you were in primary too. 

Kuroo blew a sigh of relief, "Great! I swear it will all be fine. Want to go look around a bit? I can show you some good places around this town, so you'll be more familiar with it once you move."

You sipped your coffee, now bitter in your mouth – from how long it sat there untouched or from the conversation? You don't know.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I don't want to not know where a gas station is and have to pull over on the side of the road and a stranger kidnap and kill me." You got up from the cushioned couch to stretch a bit before leaving.

"Did someone make you watch a scary movie lately? You sure are being a bit weird, little one." He chuckled as if it was funny. You're deathly scared of gory, horror movies.

"As if, this is just my regular morbid self." You laughed, exiting the cafe and taking in the scenery of the streets. It wasn't a bad town at all. It looked kind of magical like it came out of a movie or something.

After a bit of sight-seeing, you gathered that there were a lot of thrifting shops, coffee places, a public library and even different kinds of food areas that you'd definitely be trying out once you move.

Your feet started to hurt but you wouldn't tell Kuroo that, he'd make fun of you for being such a big baby.

So, you decided on, "Tell me more about Kenma? I'm still a bit nervous of actually moving in with a stranger I've only heard stories of." 

"I'm not sure what to say. He's a year younger than me, Christmas is his favorite holiday, and he's started a small YouTube channel a bit ago."

He saw the look on your face and then added, "He knows you're moving in; it'll all be okay. Save the worries for your new classes, okay?" He ruffled your head, effectively messing up your hair that you worked hard on this morning.

"Agh, stop," You pulled his hand away, "You're annoying." You scoffed at him as you guys arrived at your small car.

This beauty has gotten you through senior year and you're just praying she'll get you through this year of college. It was a red VW convertible that your parents graciously gave you on your 18th birthday.

You had decked her out with plenty of red accessories and most of which were strawberry or hello kitty themed. What can you say? You're just a girl after all.

"Thanks for the day Tetsu, it was really nice. I'm feeling a bit better about moving here." You give him a genuine smile as you unlock your car door.

"Anytime for you, little one." He reached over to give you a squeezing hug and then released you.

"I'll see you soon then, bye!" You waved once you were buckled in your cute little car. Kuroo gave you a huge wave and a smile goodbye.

As you were driving back home, you couldn't help but to roll your windows down and let the air flow through your hair. At a red light, you connected your phone to the car and started playing your favorite song.

A man crossed the road, you couldn't help but to stare at his outfit. Who in the hell wears a hoodie and sweatpants in the summer? Granted, it was the end of summer, so the heat was slowly fleeting but just barely.

As if he heard you, his head snapped up, locking eyes with yours. His strange golden ones felt like they could have pierced your soul with how hard the expression on his face was. Even with the windows down, in the summer heat, you managed to shiver just from him.

As you drove by, you couldn't get the image out of your mind nor the feeling off your skin. You hoped it maybe was the music that had perhaps made that man stare you down in the middle of the crosswalk.

You turned the music up a little louder, hoping to drown the thoughts out and letting the wind send a different type of chills down your back.

. . .

On the long drive home, you couldn't help your mind from wandering to when you had your first encounter with Kuroo. You had maybe been no older than nine or ten. You remember your parents sitting you down at the kitchen table with serious looks on their faces that had you worried.

They had told you that they had been concerned about the way you had been writing your past few school assignments. However, those couldn't have been not much longer than a paragraph or two, so you didn't really understand.

Anyways, that's when they signed up for a program to help you connect with another grade schooler to improve your writing skills. You had been excited to use the many pretty stationary that your parents had gifted you to get you into writing.

You soon had met a junior high version of Kuroo -- through pen pal letters of course. He had introduced himself and mostly asked about you and gave you tips to correct your writing. And then, well, the rest is history.

Not to mention that you definitely kept all of the letters that Kuroo had sent to you as memories.

As the years blended away, you finally got your first phone when you reached your last year in junior high! That was Kuroo's third year too and after the long wait of your letter sending through the mail with the excitement of your new phone, you finally got a message back.

That is when you both decided to meet up in person, conventionally it was right after Kuroo had a match and won it that same day. It's safe to say that he was exceptionally happy to win a match with his team and meet his pen pal sister.

You still remember cringing away from him trying to give you a hug because you both just now met up in person, but he did just win a match. Over the course of your high school years, he would occasionally come back on breaks from university and take you out for ice cream or help with your science homework.

Kuroo was like the big brother you never got, and you were like the little sister he always wished for. It was the perfect duo.

You wish you could have recorded his face once you facetimed him about being accepted into his college. That was the day that he had sworn to your parents that he'd take excellent care of you if you decided to go there with him.

Safe to say, your parents loved and trusted Kuroo.

You couldn't help but to smile at all the delightful memories that ran through your head. 'It'll be weird for a bit, but I'll have my bro Kuroo, so it'll be fine' you thought to yourself, pulling into the driveway of your house.

Maybe it all would be okay.

synopsis: it's the summer before you go to university, and you decide to become roommates with your pen pal that you've known since you were in primary. big problem arises, he's got a roommate, and it just so happens that his roommate either has a sexual want for you or hates your guts – or probably both?

tag list: [let me know if you’d like to be in the tag list!]

@geektastic84 @lavanderdreamve @hhoneyhan @kirikeijii @marsoverthestars @nymphsdomain @justagirlnamedkai @kodzukein @74zix47 @kakuzone @jaeminaur @3lectraheart

a/n: i hope you enjoyed, and the idea for this entire multi-chapter fic came from @deftrow !! i made the banner <3

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

can you write relationship headcanons for hyugo please? he's so underrated oh my god- btw love your blog, i'm so happy there's more people in the tkatb fandom <33 thank you for your service!!

My Exaltation (Hyugo x MC/Reader - Relationship HCs)

Thank you for the ask, Anon! And especially thank you for the kind words! :D

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer Exaltation: a feeling or state of extreme happiness. Trigger Warnings: NSFW and sexual mentions (nothing too crazy though).

A/N: (Check down the bottom for more info: but here's the server skeleton I've made: Link: TKATB Server).

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

SFW

I see Hyugo as somebody very affectionate, like a puppy. (He literally gives puppy-dog eyes like c’mon). Also is capable of becoming as feral as one.

Definitely will be the type to walk up to you randomly and beg on his knees request to do something, considering I feel like part of the reason he has so much on his plate is due to the fact he can't stand having the same routine day after day. He needs spice. And you'll happily oblige.

Also very protective. Hell, this guy killed someone(s), so he’d be more than willing to defend you if it comes to that. Owns weapons 110%. Is also very capable at using them.

Hides all his suspicious activity from you. Not because he doesn't trust you, but mostly due to the fact he doesn't want you to get involved.

When If you move in together, he will make sure to enroll you in self-defense/weapon training classes (or he'll teach you himself, who cares about the law he's committed about 56 crimes in the span of a month /jkjk).

Is alarmingly strong, for someone of his stature and build, he often ensures to work out, because, well, he never knows when someone will come after him now does he?

Is paranoid about your safety 25/8, he's alert and vigil every waking moment. Ever since the cinema incident, he's been freaking out internally. (What if they find out about you? What if you go missing too?). Will hide it though, he can't afford you to be scared of him, now can he?

Crime hustles aside, Hyugo is genuinely a very loving and #goldenretriever boyfriend. Will use petnames as much as humanely possible, usually the flirty ones like 'darling'.

If you are a clothesnapper, expect him to start stealing back, eventually both your wardrobes will be swapped. You both don't care though, because both your horny asses will be relishing in the smell of each other in secret teehee.

Will be pulling the biggest 'Aww you look so adorable!!!!!' face known to man the first time you stole his clothes (probs a sweater or overshirt). Will tease you about it.

Makes puns 24/7, actually a master at them, it's kind of unnerving.

If you're ticklish, do not, under ANY circumstance, let him find out. You will be on the verge of dying each time he tickles you.

Hyugo's heart melts if you wanna watch his favourite movies with him: "Uh...Oh my God! MC! The new *insert movie title* came out...wanna watch it together this Sunday?" *insert massive puppy dog eyes, a cutesy little pout and two slender hands clasped together in a praying motion*

You agree, because...of fucking course you will.

Doesn't care enough to cook most of the time, but will try for you. :]

If you're cooking (or baking desserts), he'll spawn right behind you and hug you.

Will make you game with him, you don't have a choice, this guy needs action in his life (totally not like he doesn't already have any right-)

He's the little spoon, loves being smushed into your tits/pecs pressed against your torso, it means he can hear your heartbeat. It means he can fall asleep knowing you're safe.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

NSFW (I am aware these may seem short. But. uh. I'm rusty cut me some slack).

I see Hyugo as a power bottom, or even a switch. (Emphasis on the 'power' part, this guy is strong).

Is capable of serving cunt/cock scarily well. Like you have no clue how he got this good.

Don't pull his hair too hard, a bit'll make him whine groan, but he doesn't seem the type to be into hair pulling unlike Sol and Crowe teehee

More funny during sex imo, depending on how intimate it is. If it's a sudden need then he'll be silent as the grave and going all out on dishing his horniness out, but if you're both chill and happy then he's much more jovial.

Masterful at aftercare, will murmur praises for how good you were, how much he loves you, etc. into your collarbone.

You are everything to him, his lover, his vehement source of peace, and his exaltation.

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A/N: So, @hayooni mentioned that we should probably have a Discord server or something, so I made one. It's pretty mid so far, and I'm definitely going to hand off admins to other people who're superior when it comes to Discord server making, but hell, how about we make sure this community is as nontoxic and interconnected as possible. We're the OGs and veterans of this fandom; we might as well make it a fucking good one.

Link: TKATB Server

[lanadelnegan]

My Past, My Future - Part 1

Negan x Reader x Daryl (love triangle)

Part 2 here

Summary: Daryl is in love with you, but you're in love with Negan.

Warnings: 18+, smut, love triangle, p in v, romantic negan, angst, breeding

Note: this was requested from an anon (Negan saying goodbye to Lucille and confessing his love to y/n.) I decided to spice it up and throw Daryl in there. &lt;3

"Lucille, baby. If you were here, you'd be so fuckin' disappointed in me.... But hell, if you were still here, things probably never would have made it to this point to begin with... Turned into a fuckin' monster when the world took you from me. Hope wherever the hell you are, you weren't watchin'. Truth is? I couldn't stand seeing anyone fuckin' happy because you took all my happiness with you when you left. But baby... I think I've found happiness again... "

Negan sighs heavily as he traces the wood grain of his beloved bat.

"She reminds me of you. So carefree and down-to-earth. If you met her, you'd understand... You'd want me to be happy, right? Hell, I've done enough suffering.. even though I probably deserved it. Anyways.."

Negan brings Lucille to his lips, pressing softly as his eyes squeeze shut.

"What I'm trying to say is.. you taught me how to love, Lucille. I'm forever grateful for that. And you'll always have a part of me. You're my past. But y/n... she's my future."

He tosses the bat into the fire, watching the wood burn bittersweetly as it concludes that chapter of his life.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, where've you been?" Carol asks, jogging up to Negan as he arrives back at Alexandria.

"Had to take care of something." Negan shrugs. "You seen y/n around?"

"On a run with Daryl.. They should be back soon... Why?" Carol scrunches her brows at Negan and his jaw twitches at the mention of Daryl's name.

Daryl has been there for y/n since the very beginning, which is partly why Negan spared Daryl and let him live. Y/n begged Negan to let Daryl come back to Alexandria after Negan took him to the sanctuary, and he allowed it because even then, he had a soft spot for her.

Negan grunts. "No reason."

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You and Daryl have been gone for a few hours now and you managed to find some canned goods on your run, weighing down your backpack. The sun is starting to go down just as you see the gates of Alexandria in the near distance and you grunt, adjusting the heavy bag on your shoulder.

Daryl notices your struggling and doesn't hesitate to grab your bag off your shoulder, throwing it over his.

He's been there by your side since the beginning and saved your lives more times than you can count.. helped you when you needed it. Even during the smallest inconveniences, like right now.

"You don't have to carry that."

"I know." Daryl grunts, adjusting your backpack next to his own on his back.

The rest of your walk is silent as the guilt from the secret you've kept for weeks now eats at you.

You started visiting Negan a couple weeks after he got locked up in Alexandria. The first time you did it was to curse him out.. Tell him how you wish he were dead and how your friends didn't deserve what he did to them.

The second time you visited was out of pure boredom. Carol and Daryl had gone on a run without you, and you snuck in to see him out of curiosity.

The third time was because you found that he intrigued you. The conversations you had with Negan had become like no other conversations you'd ever had. You felt like he was the only person who understood you.

Monthly visits to his cell became weekly visits. And weekly visits turned into daily visits. You'd bring him books to keep him company, sneak him snacks, and eventually, one thing led to another.

And now he's your secret boyfriend. You've been sneaking around with him for weeks now, like teenagers scared to get caught by their parents. And while it's thrilling, your feelings for Negan have grown into something much bigger that you ever expected.

"Daryl.. there's something I need to get off my chest."

If there's anyone who hates Negan, it's Daryl. But he's also the one person you trust the most, and he's going to find out eventually. So you decide it might as well come from you.

"Hm?" Daryl grunts, scuffing his feet in the gravel as he walks.

"Promise it won't make anything... different between us?"

He slows down, looking at you suspiciously. "Nah, ain't promisin' nothin'. But now ya gotta tell me."

You sigh, hoping you're not about to make a terrible decision.

"There's... someone I have feelings for..."

His brows scrunch together as he glances at you. When he doesn't answer, you hesitantly continue.

"I... I think I might even love him."

Daryl looks at you again, a softer look in his eyes this time as you continue on rambling.

"I haven't told anyone else. I don't want anyone getting upset with me... Or... judging me."

"Who is it?" Daryl quickly cuts you off as the Alexandrian gates open for the two of you.

"It's.. um.." You sigh as Negan's name stops on the tip of your tongue.

"Y/n.. hey, there you are. We need to talk." Negan is already on the other side of gate as you enter. Daryl stops beside you, refusing to leave your side as he glares at Negan.

"Uh, yeah.. let's go talk over there." You say, widening your eyes at Negan, confused that he's talking to you like this in front of Daryl. You've both done a decent job of keeping your interactions with each other private, so this is out of the ordinary.

"No..." Negan cuts you off. "I'm done hiding. I'm gonna talk and you're gonna listen."

"Negan.." You warn him, noticing the death glare that Daryl is giving him.

"I love you, y/n."

Your mouth drops open slightly at his confession. You want to say it back, because... you do love him. But something stops you.

Negan brings his hand up to rest against your cheek. "That's okay, baby. You don't have to say it back right now. I've waited for you for this long, I've got all the time in the world.. I just.. I needed you to know."

He takes you in his arms, hugging you tightly and resting his chin on top of your head.

"You can't be fuckin' serious." Daryl finally interrupts. "Him?" He asks, looking at you with hurt in his eyes.

You nod, the side of your head pressing into Negan's chest as your arms wrap around his waist. "Daryl... I was gonna tell you sooner. I-"

"Doesn't matter." Daryl grunts, spitting at the ground in front of him. "Whadaya want me to say, y/n? Congrats?" Daryl glares at Negan before angrily walking off.

You glance around, noticing others watching the scene before them. "Negan.. we need to take this somewhere else."

"Okay.. yeah, I know." He drops his head. "I just - I'm so tired of hiding from everyone. I want them to know you're my girl. I fuckin' love you, y/n. More than anything... Why is that so wrong? Why should I have to hide that?"

You search his eyes as a single tear falls from yours. You know you shouldn't want him. You know all of the awful things he's done, but you've grown to know him on such a deeper level over the past few months and you can't help but feel so strongly for him.

If being with him means the rest of the world is against you, then so be it.

You wrap your arms around him and slam your lips to his, kissing him desperately. You're too caught up in the moment to notice the shock on everyone's face around you. You deepen this kiss, savoring the taste of him as your tongues mingle together.

"Negan.. I need you." You say in between breaths as he lifts you up into his arms by your thighs and your legs wrap around his waist.

You can't take your lips off of him as he leads you into your house nearby, not paying attention to the hateful glares around you.

Negan kicks your front door open with you still in his arms and you slam it shut as he presses your back into the living room wall. His lips travel from your lips to your neck as he presses his erection into you. You whine, frustrated at the material separating both of you.

"Negan.. please, I need you.. now."

He carefully lets you down as both of you tear away at each other's clothes until you're naked and he's left in just his black boxers.

He picks you back up, leading you to the couch and sitting down with you straddling his lap. You pull away from his lips long enough to look into his hazel eyes, letting your hands cup his face before running your fingers through his graying hair.

You can't deny that you're head over heels in love with this man, as wrong as it may be. He's changed so much since he was leader of the Saviors, mentally and physically. He's a perfect example that people can change, and you hope that the others and Daryl can finally see that one day too.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful, baby." His cock springs free from the hole in his boxers as he takes your hard nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly.

You hover over him, lining his tip up with your entrance. You slide down slowly, inch by inch until he fills you completely and you feel the tip of him pressing against your cervix. You moan out at the satisfying pain as his fingers dig into your hips.

"That's it, sweetheart. God you feel so fuckin' good." He praises you.

You wrap your arms around his neck to support yourself as you bounce up and down on him and he groans out, looking up at you through his lust-filled eyes. You press your forehead and nose against his own as you continue riding him slow and hard, making sure he hits as deep as possible each time you come down on him.

"I love you too, Negan. So much."

"Yeah? Fuck. Say it again." He says, his breathing unsteady.

"I love you Negan... I'm in love with you."

"Fuck, baby. I'm so fuckin' crazy about you."

You crash your lips to his again as a tear falls from your cheek.

"Baby, don't cry. It's okay, we're gonna figure this out. Fuck everyone else." He wipes your tear away with his thumb as you continue grinding on him softly.

You nod. "I know.. I just.. want them to accept you."

Negan gets up suddenly, laying you down on your back before positioning himself between your legs.

"Only one I need acceptance from is you, darlin'." He says before sliding inside you in one quick motion. He fucks you fast and deep, interchangeably moaning filthy sounds in your ear and sucking at your neck.

After moments of thrusting, he pulls back, settling on his knees as he lifts your leg, placing it on his shoulder. From this new angle, he hits your g-spot perfectly over and over.

"Negan.." You breathe heavily. "I'm -"

"I know baby. Just fuckin' let go."

You come apart at the sound of his words, moaning out his name as your juices rush out of you. Negan looks down between the two of you, watching you soak his cock.

"Goddamn baby, look at that." His voice is low and raspy when he leans over you again. "So fuckin' wet." The sound of his voice right in your ear sends a chill through your body.

"Want you to cum in me.." You breathe out.

"Yeah? You sure, baby?"

You've never let him before, but now that your relationship is public and you've both confessed your feelings to each other, you crave him on a deeper level.

You nod desperately and he kisses you hard, spilling deep inside of you as his hips stop abruptly. He groans into your mouth as his dick pulses over and over and you feel his warm liquid paint your walls.

After a few minutes of snuggling and kissing, he finally pulls out of you and the two of you get dressed.

"Did you mean it?" He asks, pulling his pants up.

"Mean what? That I love you?"

He looks to you, waiting for your answer as you pull your shirt over your head.

Your eyebrows scrunch. "Of course I meant it. Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?"

He shrugs. "Dunno. You coulda been caught up in the moment."

You laugh, walking over to him and sliding your hands around his waist, pulling him in for a long hug. You look up at him to find him grinning down at you.

"Nope... Still love you." You reassure him.

He nods towards the door. "You ready to tell the world that?"

"Fuck this world. It doesn't care about us. Why should we care about it?"

Negan chuckles, kissing your forehead.

Your face grows serious at the thought of Daryl's reaction earlier. "Actually.. I need to find Daryl. Make things right.. He seemed really upset."

Negan nods disappointedly, dropping his head.

"Oh, stop. Don't be like that... You know his opinion is important to me."

"He'll never give us his blessing if that's what you're after, y/n."

"I don't need his blessing, Negan. I just don't want him to hate me. He's been there with me since the beginning. If we want a future together, I need to make things right."

Negan's brows come together as he lets go of you. "If we want a future together? ... So, if he's not okay with us being together, that's it? You're just gonna kick me to the fuckin' curb?"

"Negan.. I didn't say that."

"... but you did." He says.

"Negan, please just.. I didn't mean it like that." You say frustrated, reaching for him again. Your heart drops when he pulls away.

He nods, sliding his hands into his pockets as he waits for your explanation.

"I care about him, too. What he thinks.. matters to me. That doesn't mean I'm going to let it dictate our future. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have worded it that way."

"Okay." He whispers, but the hurt is still clear in his voice.

"Stay here, okay? I want you to sleep here tonight. I'll talk to them.. get them to agree to it. Just give me some time and.. don't leave the house, okay?"

Negan nods as you reach to hold his hands, standing on your tip toes to kiss him. "I love you Negan. This is going to work, I promise."

Part 2 here