#idk there's just something about picking flowers right from the ground

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

i still can't get over the photo with Edwige holding those daisies AAAAAGHH

[xoxotiamathh]

Seeing You Naked For The First Time: FS AND NEXT PARTNER

Note: NO MINOR. Hi angels! There's 2 topics here, one for FS and one for your Next Partner, you can choose both Piles one after the other. Paid Readings 15 slots are open right now! Please like and Reblog if you like.

FS 1 -> 2 -> 3 | Next Partner A -> B -> C

Masterlist | Paid Readings • Paid Feedback

FS 1 2 3

Next Partner A B C

FS

Pile 1

They may feel a little insecure about themselves after seeing you naked for the first time. They could feel like they are not attractive enough or pretty enough somehow, and it could sow seeds of insecurity in them as well, there is a vibe about feeling inferior to you here as their very first thought because of how attractive you are. After this, their second thought will be related to wanting to pick you up and spin you around, it switches very fast from inferiority to elation, wanting to do anything for you, put the world at your feet and worship you, this is so CUTE I feel giddy as I channel this I feel just free and light and these may be feelings they will be having too, where they feel closer to you and grounded like "wow this is really happening". They would feel like they want a future with you like they will start setting goals I am seeing gowns and tuxes and celebration, possibly thinking about marriage and how beautiful you would look if and when the both of you get married, I am also getting for some of you this could be after you get married, and that is the first time you see each other fully in the nude. They would start feeling protective over you and also very shaken like they could in general be someone who is very rational and structured and in control of themselves but as soon as they see you all of that is going to melt away, they will not know what to do with themselves like they will not know what to do with their hands or how to touch you, for them, you will feel like something that is so out of their world, like your body will be, I am getting pious? idk pious for them, they will not want to touch you because of the fear that they will end up "ruining" or "dirtying" you in some way like they just do not feel like they deserve to touch you almost.

xoxo

Pile 2

Oh they are going to be in ruins when they see you naked for the first time, like they will be like putty in your hands I also heard salivating and salvation, so both are applicable here. They will feel like what they feared most has come true, the fear being they will never be able to keep their hands off of you and that they do not want to let you out of their sight for even a second. You will awaken this primal need for touch and skinship within them that they may not be used to, or they may not have felt in the past. They could also additionally feel like you are their ruin, you are their end, and you will be the one who will they will dedicate their life to with all the passion in the world. I am also getting a strong dominant energy here, extremely fiery and passionate. They will probably end up on top of you or caging you in their arms as soon as they see you in the nude like they cannot resist themselves here, they could also want to frame you in that pose/way for forever because they would feel like they will never ever be tired of seeing you in that way. They will instantly feel this strong need to show off in front of you lol, it's cute actually, and it's also related to showing off how strong they are so they would probably start like picking you up and rolling around with you, I heard "manhandle" but like it's not gender based they would just want to show off how easily they can carry both yours and their weight, I also heard "gym". Lastly, they would feel like they need to spend on you, maybe buy you sexy lingerie or wanting to take off your clothes themselves.

xoxo

Pile 3

As soon as they see you naked, they will want to court you all over again. Like the only thing going on in their head will be the need to bring you flowers, get on their knees and ask you to be their partner all over again. There are a lot of emotions here, they may find themselves come to tears because of how overwhelmed they may feel. Extra information but they may be the one who would have taken your clothes off, and it would be a very sensual moment where the both of you stare into each other's eyes while they touch you, they may still be clothed in that moment. They will feel a psychic connection with you and a warmth spreading through their abdomen as they see you move. It will make them feel like water, flimsy and unable to do anything because of how mesmerised they will be as they just keep staring at you. They will also feel a sort of pain however, like there is a sense of loss here where they could feel like they will never be able to get the moment back again where they see you naked for the first time which will make them feel a little sad, it's like the thing where you watch a movie, and it is so good that you feel sad that you will never be able to watch it for the first time ever again. They will feel like you are above them, I am getting Knight and Queen energy, they will feel as if they are just there to serve you or help you out, you have healed them just by blessing them with your nude form this is very much in the same lane of like putting you on the pedestal here.

ooo

Next Partner

Pile A

Heavy earth energy here, they will feel like you represent nature or everything natural. When they see you naked for the first time, they will feel a little scared, it will make things very real for them. They may feel like now they will have to take more steps and be better than they were previously, sex for them could be something that is very intimate and spiritual, and because they may be flighty in general, as soon as the clothes come off, so does their mask of flightiness. This moment will make them fully committed to you. They will feel like they need to spoil you with luxury, they will also, and I am also getting that they will instantly feel at home with you and want you to take care of them, they would want to lay their head on your lap and want you to lull you to sleep, you naked form makes them feel safe and warm and comfortable. They would just want to hold you there is not a lot of sexual passion here, where it's like fiery, but it is more grounded, they want to go slow with you and take their time. Furthermore, they will feel like they need to cherish you and savour every moment with you, which is why they will not rush into anything and may seem sluggish initially when they see you naked for the first time. They will feel like they have gotten very lucky to have you and that it was destiny that the two of you even met, maybe it was fated to be, and they may feel this intense connection towards you when they see you for the first time and they may wonder if you were a part of their past life, maybe a soulmate from another time that they have had the fortune to meet again.

xoxo

Pile B

Oh, they could be a little judgemental not in a bad way just sizing you up where you may feel small or scrutinised under their gaze, but they would probably just be admiring you or watching you because they will not know what else to do like they will almost be stunned or not know what to do. Even though you will feel trapped under their gaze, they will feel trapped as well because of their inability to move. They will feel a strong need to release and let go, and by release I mean cumming, they will feel a strong need to fuck. They will also feel like their wish has been fulfilled when they see you naked, not only because they will find you stunning and like everything they have ever wished for, but they could also feel like they have been very fortunate they will feel abundant and prosperous, feeling confident that they can provide for you whatever you want and whatever you need. A soon as they get out of their trance, which may feel like years, but I am getting it will only be a few minutes, also a vision is coming through that you will have to break them out of their trance, they may be sitting on a chair, and you will have to go up to them and peer down at them for them to realise they are mobile again. After this they will feel themselves reach a breaking point, as soon as they are out of that they will become greedy for you wanting to consume each part of you with their eyes of course and also go down on you, they want to take all of you in and will not hesitate to pounce you wanting to be subservient both ways.

xoxo

Pile C

Fireeee firey energy they will feel triumphant, they will feel like they have won you over and that this has been won of the biggest victories of their life that they are someone you are comfortable enough with. That you are allowing them to see you in such a vulnerable and raw state, they will also feel like cheering you on. I heard "I'm your biggest fan" oh they will probably cheer you on and maybe holler while you get naked, it's very playful and flirty not as serious as the other piles. They will feel this need to please you and praise you, they will be very vocal and praise your body and you and will probably ask you to pose for them like "give me a twirl". This is so cute, they will get this feeling of relief and a release of pain by seeing you naked because they may be aware of your hesitancy when it comes to bearing yourself to others in that way, and they would feel proud of you as well. A lot of suppressed memories they may have had from their past relationships could also resurface, where they could end up, unconsciously comparing you to an ex of theirs who may have hurt them deeply. There is strong Knight and service energy here too I also saw someone getting on their knees to propose which could be relevant, anyways with the Knight energy I am feeling they may want you to ride them while they are fully clothed as well, they will get turned on by the contrast of you being fully vulnerable while they do not need to, however this could also be related to them being a little scared of you maybe scrutinising or judging their appearance because that could have been a point of contention in their previous relationships.

DO NOT PLAGIARISE, REWORD, REPHRASE, REPOST MY CONTENT ALL RIGHTS RESERVED xoxotiamathh

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ green is the color of envy (and poison)

type of post: fic characters: neige, vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, vague possessiveness maybe angst idk, oooh drama author's note: I wanted a break from headcanons and had this strange urge to do a character study for neige. here I am, writing this at midnight

Neige Leblanche does not hate Vil Schoenheit.

The thought had not even occurred to him.

In fact, if you had even asked as much, his wide, doe-like eyes would fill with pretty tears, and he would ask you, in a trembling voice, if you really thought of him so cruelly.

Neige Leblanche did not hate anyone. On the contrary, he had so much love, it practically overflowed from him, touching the ground at his feet and imprinting itself on everything he held.

He was, for all intents and purposes, a vision of loveliness, a sunrise, morning dew on the petal of a white lily. He would have gladly, if you asked him, plucked each star out of the sky for you, written you a thousand songs, laid himself at your feet in adoration.

He was cupid, a chubby-faced, blushing cherub.

He had been content, for a time. Happy, even, with his little life, the family and career he had built with his own two hands, though you wouldn't know it from their softness.

Then, there was you.

You. You. The magicless prefect of Night Raven College. An otherworldly being. A hero.

You. So kindhearted, always gentle with the first years and animals. So polite, with him and his friends. So brave, facing danger and coming out unscathed. Your hope and gratefulness despite your circumstances reminded him, in a way, of himself.

There was no other explanation for it. You were sent for him.

Neige had simply never been so sure of anything. It felt right. It felt perfect. You were the one he'd been waiting for. You were his.

After the VDC, he couldn't stop thinking about you. You! You were perfect for him, his soulmate, and he didn't need to know you to know that. He'd never felt like this before, after all. It must be love.

You feel it too, don't you?

Limb by limb, he sews together a ragdoll of you in his mind. Something simple. Soft. Beautiful. Something for his thoughts to play with. He gives you a sword, one day, and he makes you a knight. He dresses you in the finest of silks, and he makes you a noble. He pushes up the corners of your sewn-together mouth, and he makes you smile back at him.

You're kind. You're brave. You're loving. You're loyal. You're chivalrous. You're anything he could want or need, anything at all, because you're his.

Why would fate lead him to someone who wasn't already perfect?

And, oh, how he wants to pick you flowers. Neige will make you breakfast in bed, and sing for you. Everyone loves him; and he loves everyone. But it isn't enough. You're his soulmate. Don't you know?

Why do you keep looking at each other like that.

You're so friendly, just like Neige, always so eager to please. Right? That's what it is. Right?

There could be no other reason for you and Vil Schoenheit to look at each other like that. As if you know something that Neige doesn't. As if you're having a conversation with only your eyes. What is that? What does it mean?

Why does he feel so comfortable touching you?

A hand on the small of your back, an arm around your waist. He corrects your posture with both hands on your shoulders. He taps your thigh when you're distracted. He holds your face in both palms to scold you for smudging the eyeliner he had so tediously put on you before coming here...

Why do you smile at him when he lectures you? Why does he smile back?

This strange, dizzying feeling, this tightness in Neige's chest, this unwelcomed weight, can't just be confusion.

He can only lie to himself for so long.

You feel it, too... don't you? Don't you get butterflies when you look at him? Don't you feel dizzy? Don't you think of him?

Vil murmurs something in your ear with a sly smile, and you laugh.

And you haven't even looked at Neige once yet. The thought makes him clench his fists under the table.

As this new, painful weight settles in his stomach, a dizzying thought sits with it.

Neige Leblanche is jealous.

Of Vil Schoenheit.

[st4rc4t]

hasan piker x weed smoking reader hcs

disclaimer! i do not condone underage marijuana usage!! this is just something silly for ppl who do/have smoked weed before. if ur under 21 in the united states don’t do it !!!

cw: marijuana usage, friends to lovers sorta idk the situation is weird, autistic coded reader ? it kinda just happens, semi pining, gn!reader

wc: 1.1k+

a/n: just me and my 3 weed smoking gfs

most of his friends in the youtube/twitch scene also smoke weed so he doesn’t really care

he smokes occasionally but only at night to help wind down a little bit

he doesnt mind the smell but he really hates when his clothes and hair smell like it

so when he’s around you make sure you’re either outside or blowing it out of a window

you never smoke inside his house

he didn’t ask you not to, you just assumed he wouldn’t like it

he doesnt and it makes him blush a little at ur consideration

whenever you get high and he doesn’t, he never says “omg ur so high” while ur trying to talk

cus like . yeah obviously that was the point ! and its not like ur completely different while high, just a little floatier and it takes you a minute to get thru ur sentences

but you talk about pretty much the same stuff and he loves talking to you

and u laugh a lot he likes that too

dont tell anyone tho

you looove getting high with him its such a special treat

ull be gathering ur paraphernalia to take out on the patio and he wanders out of his stream room looking like the sad hamster

he sees you getting ready, getting a bottle of juice and such and asks if he can join u

gasp of course he can !!!!!

asking how fucked up he wants to get so you know the best method of smoke delivery

he wants to sleep Good tonight so indica in the bong it is !

he’s nervous ab the bong so u bring out a bowl too incase he gets cold feet

he watches you get comfy in your seat outside, a comfortable warmth from the california setting sun

arranging everything ready on the table

“you look like a tweaker”

“im gonna make you a tweaker if ur not careful”

he laughs but he keeps watching you carefully pick out a healthy portion from the large bud you have, pushing it into the prongs of your grinder and twisting the two pieces against each other

he watches you pour the contents of a reusable water bottle into the large glass piece, eyeing the level of water

he watches you stop and put it to your lips, taking a pretend hit and making sure the water level is good

he watches you carefully pack the ground up flower into both bowl pieces, using your fingers to pat it level and dusting the excess back into the grinder with each one

you notice him staring but dont say anything until you’re already done

you make him an offering, bong and bowl in each respective hand. eyebrows raised as if to say, “which are we feeling?” but when he continues staring at the contents of your hands, you actually speak.

“dude are you already high, whats going on?” you laugh cautiously, genuinely a little worried but keeping it light hearted. he seems to snap out of it at your voice.

his eyes dart around for a second as he reenters his surroundings, chuckling when your word’s finally register, “no, yeah- sorry… really long day today,” his words fizzle out as he goes along. you cant help but feel bad, you dont know how he deals with streaming sometimes. you also feel weird about giving him a mind altering substance while he already seems spaced out.

setting the pieces down safely on the table, you look at him seriously before speaking, “are you sure you wanna do this? you’re kinda out of it,” you’re hard trying not to sound condescending, but you doubt he can read your tone that well right now anyway.

he smiles the most minuscule amount and looks away, but you see it. “yeah, im sure,” he sighs out gently before continuing, “i need to empty my brain,” he finishes by looking back to you with already tired eyes. you nod in understanding, relishing in knowing exactly how to fix his problem.

picking up the little glass bowl and a lighter, you hand both to him. they instantly look tiny in his hand and you’re not sure how he’s gonna actually do this. after realising you gave him green hit, you remind him to take a small hit. he just rolls his eyes sarcastically and scoffs, like of course he would, but you both know he would’ve blown a lung.

you watch him fumble with the glass, trying to get a good grip that covers the carb and wont burn his hand when he lights it

he eventually gets it and takes a little corner hit

a bit bigger than he was expecting tho so he does that thing where u cough the smoke out

just awful btw

u give him some water hes fine but boy does he love to complain

u just laugh at him and take ur own hit

breathing in deep, holding it for a second, and letting it go watching it escape into the open air

when he sees other people smoke it usually feels more rushed and energetic, like they were trying to ingest as much thc in as little time as possible

but you take your time. gathering everything and getting comfortable, settling into the ritual of the action. you take your time and let yourself feel it, you take your time and make sure he’s fully prepared before offering him anything

oh no he likes you !

he does end up hitting the bong but like the smallest baby hit so it doesn’t even count

he is sooo silly when hes high loves to laugh

he will def devolve into political rants if you let him, but you’re pretty good at making him laugh and redirecting him when hes like this

bc he smoked an indica this time his eyes are even more droopy than they were before and you can tell he’s getting tired

you clean up and follow him back inside amd he goes completely baby mode at the sight of kaya sleeping on the couch

petting her and pressing his face into her fur, going on and on about how soft she is

you laugh and sit on the other end of the big sectional covered in pillows and blankets

when hes done melting into kaya he sits down next to u with his arm around the back of the couch

real smooth .

it works 1000%

watching smth stupid like family guy (genuinely my fave show while high i will not elaborate)

chilling until he decides to go to bed at like 8:30

he convinces u to sleep on the couch bc ur both too high to drive and he would freak out at the thought of u in an uber rn

okay i have to be done i basically wrote a oneshot in the middle bye bye

[iliketangerines]

hii, i really like ur writings and i always binge reading your masterlist because they're just that good lol.

and do you still take requests? if you do, can you please do tomas who is a vampire and is soo obsessed over fem!reader?

Idk why, I've always associated tomas with gothic vibes (he just gives me vampire/dracula vibes). so, i can imagine him living on a castle alone as a vampire until one day when he was wandering around he suddenly finds reader who is lost and kidnaps her and put her on a cell? (im sorry if this sounds really weird lol). oh and please make tomas dominant because honestly dom!tomas is soo underrated 😔

im sorry if this doesn't make sense lol and it's okay if you don't want to do it! thanks beforehand :)

the castle in the woods

a/n: this is...also going to have to be a part 2...originally gonna be nice and short and then...um...got a bit carried away. also, i do NOT condone this behavior in real life

pairing: vampire!tomas vrbada x gn!reader

warnings: nonconseual blood drinking :)

you shiver as the rain soaks your clothing and sends chills down to your very bone, and the tree leaves do nothing but make the raindrops fat and wet as they fall onto you

clutching your basket closer to your body, you move forward in the stormy weather, trying to find a semblance of shelter in this godforsaken forest

all you wanted was to pick a nice bouquet of flowers for your mother’s birthday, and you friend had suggested a meadow deep in the woods straight ahead

your friend was right, and you had gotten straight to picking the flowers and then had lost track of time as you fell asleep, only waking up to complete darkness and the first few drops of rain on your cheek

then, in the dark of the night, you couldn’t find where you had entered the meadow and now you were utterly and completely lost, about to catch a sickness at this point

still, you have to find some sort of shelter or else you will die out here, the coldness already settling into your bones as the wind screams around you

crashing into another tree in the complete darkness of the night with no moon in the sky, you fall down to the ground and contemplate giving up

then, a flash of lightning that beams down from the sky, you can see the faint reflection of metal gates in front of you

immediately, you perk up and scramble to your feet, wiping your muddy hands on your soaked cloak, and you walk over to the metal gates as quick as you can

as you get closer you realize just how tall the gates are, towering over you as you push at the gates, and they creak open under the weight of your push

you follow along the path, only guided by occasional flash of lightning, and you can see a castle in the distance, dark and gloomy and looking much older than you or your village

something inside you screams danger, and you can feel pinpricks crawling up your spine as you freeze in your tracks as you continue to stare at the castle

thunder laughs in the sky above, dark and angry, and the rain pours down harder

without any choice, you walk briskly to the castle and arrive there in a few short minutes strangely enough, it looked like a much more hefty walk, one meant to be traveled by horses

it didn’t matter, you used the knocker to pound on the entrance of the door, and it’s only a few seconds when the door opens and the face of a pale man with gray hair reveals himself

you shiver and shake and ask if you can come inside and warm up, just until the rain passes and then you’ll take your leave

the man blinks slow at you, nose wrinkling slightly, and he opens the door further to let you inside, gesturing for you to come in

you thank him profusely, shivering and tracking water into the castle, and he closes the door behind you, the clicks and clanks echoing in the empty and vast entry way

it’s dark and cold in here as well, drier than the outside, but somehow you feel colder in here than in the swirling storm outside

the man walks up next to you and asks you to follow him to the living room, and he pauses before saying that his name is Tomas

you nod and through chattering teeth, you introduce yourself and thank him once more as water droplets fall from your body and onto the marble floors

the entire castle is dark but is certainly kept well with how the marble shines beneath your feet and how the statues gleam in the flashes of lightning through the arching windows

yet, there’s not a single maid or butler in sight, just this strange tall man who carries himself much older than he looks

he reaches a dark room, dust free and rather clean and regal and holds his hand out, and he walks into the darkness, the sound of rocks clacking against each other

but then the fire roars to life, and the room is bathed in a warm light, seemingly the only light in this dark castle

the floor is a deep red lush carpet and by the wall, books are stacked neatly and precisely on the bookshelf that extends to the ceiling

a large wooden desk with a rather fancy looking chair sits near the edge of the room, and you toe off your shoes before stepping into the room as to not dirty the lush carpet with mud

by the warm fire, there’s a set of couches and a table for snacks and drinks, much more expensive than your entire cottage house if you had to guess

Tomas looks to you and gestures you over, and you can see clearly that he’s dressed in sleep wear and slippers, looking rather tired for his age

you walk over and untie your cloak and set it near the fire flat on the ground and apologize quietly for interrupting his sleep

he waves you off and says that he is okay and that he does not feel tired, and he eyes you up and down and says he will be right back with some dry clothes for you

before you can even protest, he’s disappeared, leaving you alone in the firelit room to warm and dry your clothes

you strip off the outermost layer of your clothes and set them by the fire, looking around the room for something to hang the clothing on, but you find none

as you put your hands near the fire, turning them front to back to warm them, you can feel exhaustion start to replace the cold feeling in your body, the adrenaline sputtering out as you sit in front of the fire

putting your hands in your face and squishing it, you wake yourself up and stand up, looking to the bookshelf to your right, and you walk on over and browse the titles

you needed to stay awake, just long enough for the storm to pass or for the man to come back, and you pick out a book that has a nice title

flipping to the first page, you start to read, trying to keep your attention on the book as the fire warms and dries the clothes sitting on your body

the sound of footsteps padding along the carpet tears your attention from the book as you look up to Tomas holding up a set of clean and dry clothing

he hands them to you, raising his eyebrows at the book you were reading, and he asks if you’ve read the book before

you laugh and say no but that you wish you had, the book really is riveting, the small library back at home doesn’t even compare to the quality of the books here

the man laughs and says with an amused smile that you should see the actual library in the castle then, and you gape at him, asking that he had more

he nods but insists on you changing first, or else you’ll catch a cold and a shiver runs down your body again as your wet clothing still sticks to your clothing

taking clothing from his hands, he slightly bows his head and then leaves the room for you to change, and you do so quickly

rubbing at the material between your fingertips, it feels much nicer than anything you’ve ever owned, even your nicest gown, and it’s smooth and thin but completely engulfs you

you pull off your underwear, soaked down to every fiber, and place it near the fire, hopefully inconspicuous enough that he didn’t notice you weren’t wearing underwear

pulling the pants of its neat folded state, they’re much too baggy for you to wear, falling down to your ankles even when you tie the drawstrings

you forgo them, the shirt was baggy enough anyway to cover you to halfway down your thighs, and you spread the rest of your clothes by the fire

Tomas calls from outside the room to ask if he can come in, and you say that he can as you stand up carefully and make sure the shirt covered everything indecent

he steps in and blinks, hands clenching onto the tray of tea in his hands, and you thank him again for giving you shelter and dry clothes, bowing as you do so

waving you off, he says it’s no problem and takes a seat on the lush couch across from you, and he asks you what your thoughts are on the book

his large hands comes up to pour a cup of dark tea, darker than any that you’ve seen before, and he slides it over to where you’ve sitten down

you take the cup gratefully, letting it warm your hands further as you take a sip, and you let the flavor sit on your tongue, unsure of exactly what Tomas had put into the tea

he takes his own sip of the tea, placing a sugar cube into his cup, and you ask what kind of tea this is

it’s red tea from china, dark and red and delicious, he explains and you nod and take another sip, letting the rich taste settle into your stomach and warm you

Tomas repeats his question from before, and you perk up and pick the book up, saying that you’ve only gotten a few chapters in but it’s quite a fun read

he laughs and tells you to read the book and tell him your thoughts as you read, he hasn’t someone to read with in ages, and you quirk an eyebrow at him, asking why he doesn’t have one of his maids or butlers read with him them

looking to the side, he says that he has none, he takes care of the castle and grounds by himself, but he doesn’t mind it at all, it takes up the time 

you press your lips together and nod, how strange that he took care of the whole castle by himself, even in the distance you could tell how vast the building was and the grounds were expansive

he looks to you and flicks his eyes back down to the book, resting in your hands, and you take another sip of your tea and open the book up to read

it’s not like you had any reading buddies back in your own village either, and the thought of having someone to express opinions about a book you both have read excited you

going through the book, you read quietly and listen to the crackle of the flames, adjusting your position on the couch so that you back rested on the armrest and your legs spread along the cushions

thankfully, the shirt was still baggy enough to hide everything, and Tomas sipped on the rest of his tea before standing up and going to pick out his own book to read

the both of you read in silence, and you let the words of the book envelop around you and bring you into their world

the rain continues to pound against the window as the both of you read and every so often you gasp, and he asks what’s happened in the book

it’s a comfortable routine, and you read about the romance of the two characters in the book, talking to each other and arguing about something

very quickly, the book devolves into something much more raunchier, and your face burns as you close the book to take a second to process what you just read

Tomas asks if everything was okay, and you nod and cross your legs, saying that everything was okay, the book had just made a sudden turn

he tilts his head and asks how, and you turn your head to look at him, finding his eyes trailing up the length of your legs before landing on your face once more

you shift in your seat to sit properly again, feet landing on the soft carpet, and you say that you just hadn’t expected the book to delve into more…sexual topics

smiling at you, he just tilts his head, unblinking as he continues to stare at you, eyes flicking downwards, and you cross your arms over your chest, suddenly cold and uncomfortable in the heat of his stare

he seems to notice your discomfort and says that you could skip a few pages ahead, but you would be missing important plot information if you did that

the story had sucked you in unexpectedly, and you did want to know how the story ended

opening the book back in and leaning back into the couch, you start to read where you had left off, trying to not seem so tense as you read about the two characters

you can’t help as you feel arousal pool in your gut, and you cross your legs tightly to try and get rid of some of the tension as you continue to read

your face seems to burn hotter than the fire you sit next to, and you press your lips together as you finally reach the end of the story

there’s a whoosh of air, and you flinch as you find Tomas standing in front of you, leaning over your body and asking if you liked the scene

there’s a sense of dread settling in your bones, and a sense of danger that screams and coils in your gut as he leans in closer, smiling at you

in the gleam of the lightning, you can see his canines glint, long and pointed and how his eyes are a dark red instead of a brown like you had thought

you had walked into a vampire’s home and conversed with a vampire and drank tea with a vampire and now the vampire stood in front of you, smile growing wider as he realizes that you’ve found him out

he laughs, hand planting by your side, and he licks his lips as you tremble in your seat, frozen to your spot as his other hand comes up to grip onto your chin

tilting your chin up, he says that he can hear your heartbeat, can smell the sweet blood running through your veins, can nearly taste your arousal on his tongue

you’re the first human to come to this castle in decades, and he had been so bored, unable to leave the estate, taking care of the same places over and over again

with inhuman strength and speed, everything had just become so easy and boring, but you had walked right into his home, sweet and innocent as a lamb

he thinks he’ll be keeping for a while, his little pet and treat, and before you can even blink he’s moved you, slammed you onto the couch, one thigh in between your legs

the sudden movement makes your head spin, and your hands finally move, scrabbling to hit and scratch him

his hand easily catches yours and pins them above your head, and you squirm and whimper for him to please let you go as he just laughs in your face

he leans in close to your neck, pressing his nose against the flesh, and he breathes in your scent with a deep breath, letting out a contented sigh at the smell

looking back up at you, he says that you’re his now, as long as you’re on his property, you are his and he will play with you as he sees fit

you can’t help it as you start to sob, the weight of the situation settling in as you realize that you will never be able to escape him and that you had become his the second you had saw him

he coos at you, telling you that he won’t hurt you, or at the very least not too much, and that you’ll be well-taken care of

his castle holds everything, gardens with crops, farm animals in the stables outside, fresh water from the wells, a kitchen for cooking all the food, and if you want something, he can get it for you with no problem

you cry out that you want to go home, and Tomas grins at you, saying that you are home now

leaning his head down, his tongue drags along the length of your neck, and he hums at the taste as you whimper and shut your eyes at the feeling

Tomas laughs against your skin as he continues to lick about the length, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses

this time you can’t stop the whimper that leaves your mouth, and he sighs at the sound, mumbling against your skin to stop fighting, that you were going to stay here forever with him and that you would grow more comfortable with the fact if you just stopped struggling

his teeth press against the pulse in your neck, and your breath catches as you start to squirm again, trying to get away from him

he doesn’t care about your struggle and simply presses his weight further into your body, stilling you just long enough for his teeth to break the surface and drink in your blood

you whimper and cry pitifully as he drinks from you, and blood seeps out of his mouth and down your neck slowly

his hands clench tighter onto your wrists as he moans at the taste of your blood, eyes fluttering shut, and it sounds lewd as he continues to drink from you

the sound is wet and loud as he sucks in blood from your neck, drinking and drinking and drinking, and you can feel your head becoming light and see the world start to spin about you

finally he brings his face away from your neck, licking at the last little droplets dripping down his lips, and you can make out through your hazy vision the droplets of blood that have fallen down to his chin

his eyes seem brighter now, red as your blood as you stare at him, and his lips are a deep shade of red as his tongue darts out to wet his lips

you can see how his face has more color in it, how his skin seems to glow and how a flush grows on his cheeks as he continues to stare down at you

he lets go of you, and you leave your wrists above you, body too exhausted to even think about moving and trying to fight against a vampire

he rips at his own sleep shirt, pressing the cloth against your neck to stop the bleeding

your eyes are drooping close and your body feels so heavy as he brings one of your hands down to press against the cloth at your neck

as your eyes finally close, too heavy to stay open, you can feel him kiss your forehead in the haze of sleepiness filling your senses

you wake up to high ceilings and a dark room, only lit by the torch in the corner of the room, and under the comfort of cool dark silk sheets

struggling to sit up, you fight through the dizziness and to observe your surroundings, pulling the covers off of your body and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed

your legs give out from under you immediately, and you fall to the floor, barely catching yourself with your arms as your head violently pounds at your head

there’s a whoosh of air, and you feel strong arms pick you up to deposit you back onto the bed, mumbling that you shouldn’t be up and about so soon

it’s the vampire, Tomas, and you weakly squirm in his arms to try and get away

he sighs at your weak form of protest and simply places you gently onto the bed and pulls the cover back over you, bowing his head slowly and apologizing

it catches you off-guard as he turns his head to the side and awkwardly coughs before continuing, saying that he shouldn’t have taken so much blood

that was what made him apologize, not the fact that he had taken your blood unwillingly, your voice is shrill and much more higher-pitched as you berate him

Tomas says that he’s been starving for years, that no man ever comes by the palace and that he could only drink the blood of the animals he raised in the farm

he was just so desperate for a taste and couldn’t control himself and that perhaps he had gotten a bit carried away with his actions and in words at the prospect of having fresh human blood

licking his lips for just a second, he pauses and says that he doesn’t have to feed for a week now at the very least but that you truly couldn’t leave the grounds anymore and for that, he was sorry

you narrow your eyes at him and ask him what he means by that, and he rubs the back of his neck as he stares at the ground, saying that first you needed to replenish your blood

and that second, he presses his lips together and points at his neck at his own bite marks, and your hand flies up to touch your own neck

there sits two puncture holes that you know his fangs would fit into perfectly, and your mouth gapes open

you would never be able to return, your village was superstitious enough and returning with puncture wounds would seal your death

picking up the closest item next to you, you weakly throw the pillow at him, and it gently poofs at his face before falling onto the floor at his feet

Tomas sighs and picks the pillow up, brushing nonexistent dust off of it and placing it back on the bed next to you, and he says that it really isn’t all that bad

he hadn’t turned you into one of his spawn, so you would still be able to traverse in the sunlight and take walks out in the warmth of the light, explaining as he sits on the edge of the bed

pressing his lips together, the vampire apologizes, saying that he had gotten a bit too excited when you had come up to his castle, willingly, and had been so…unassuming

it had been so long since he had fresh human blood to invigorate him, he shouldn’t have drinken from you, and now you were stuck with him until you died

the reminder of your position makes you hang your head low and tears well in your eyes as you hands grip on tighter to the sheets

he gives you a mournful look and stands up from the edge of the bed and says he’ll give you some time to process everything and when you’re ready to find him

as he leaves, he pauses by the door and says that if you need anything, just ring the bell by the door and he’ll get you whatever you desire

and with that, the door closes behind you, and you’re left alone with your thoughts and your tears

[stressed-and-queer]

Reasons why Merlins s1 ep4 "The Poisoned Chalice" is one of my favorite episodes (spoilers)

Gaius giving Merlin a fake proverb and Merlin calling him out on it

Merlin: "Someone has to keep the place running"

Gaius: 🤨

Merlin gets so excited he gets to go to the ball and it's adorable

The iconic outfit Arthur picks out for him

Gwen teasing him about the hat

Arthur looking back at Merlin clearly amused

The moment "Clara" confirms that Arthur's cup is poisoned he immediately leaves to save Arthur

Arthur keeps on trying to take a sip of the cup thinking the speech is over only to be interrupted again 🤣

Merlin: *Takes Arthur's cup*

Arthur: #annoyed

Uther asks Merlin for proof about his claims about the cup being poisoned and Arthur immediately goes into protective boyfriend mode

Arthur got so worried when Uther decided he would drink the wine

To the point that he tried to drink it himself knowing there was a possibility it was poisoned.

He was literally willing to do that for a servant he met 4 EP ago

Continuing with the point that they met 4 EP ago, they've known each other for like what, a month at the most and Merlin was already willing to die for Arthur

"but if it's poisoned, he'll die :('

Arthur was so fucking worried when Merlin drank the wine, you could tell just by the way he stood

*Dramatic music playing after Merlin drank the wine for a dramatic pause* Merlin: ...It's fine

The fact that the poison took a few moments to kick in. Idk it made it seem more realistic

You cannot convince me Arthur wasn't planning on somehow getting Merlin back from Bayard

When Merlin starts to choke, Arthur's face immediately drops. There's just a look of pure worry and dread

When Merlin falls to the ground unconscious, Arthur is there by his side in a matter of seconds

Arthur didn't even think twice when he picked Merlin up to carry him to Gaius's physician chambers

Arthur asking if Merlin was going to be ok

Gaius explains how to save Merlin, and how dangerous a journey it would be and Arthur is still willing to go to save Merlin

Gaius: A single drip of venom from the Cockatrice would mean certain death

Arthur: Sounds like fun!

Morgana has so much faith that Arthur would save Merlin she wasn't even worried

She relieved Gwen from her duties for the rest of the night so she could take care of Merlin!!!

"I can't stand by and watch him die!"

" Then don't watch"

The ways those lines are delivered are sooooo good omg

The way Arthur leans against the fireplace

Morgana is the one that convinced Arthur to defy his father and save Merlin

Merlin saying a spell in his sleep

And Gaius having to cover for him because Gwen was literally right there

Gaius immediately knows it's Nimue that poisoned the cup when he finds out the poison has been magically enhanced

"He's just a boy"

"Have you seen your son recently?"

Merlin literally moans Arthur's name in his sleep

"Art-Arthur, Arthur...ngh" -Merlin s1 ep4

Even when Merlin is literally dying and unconscious he's still trying to save Arthur

The whole act that Nimue puts on that Arthur falls for instantly

When Arthur flights the Cockatrice with his sword. I love all the fancy movements Bradley had to learn for the role of Arthur

Merlin moaning Arthur's name pt2

Merlin tries to warn Arthur that it's a trap in his sleep

"Who are you!"

"The last face you'll ever see"

Merlin moans Arthurs name pt3

THE BALL OF LIGHT MERLIN CREATES TO HELP ARTHUR

"Do not let Merlin die because of something I did"

Arthur is willing to be put into the stocks for a month if it means Merlin gets the antidote

Arthur reaching for the flower through the bars of his cell

The way they snuck the flower out of the cell

"That's disgusting, you would be ashamed of yourself you're old enough to be her grandfather"

"I'm proud of you Arthur, never forget that"

Arthur went to check in on Merlin to make sure he was doing ok

"Arthur....thank you"

"You too, get some rest"

[mpsansy]

A View In The Garden

Idk what the heck to title this, I haven't written a fanfic in such a long long time :P

Also this has been sitting in my drafts for too long and I needed to share it already. So enjoy the bond Casper will have with his uncle Stinkie!

___

There wasn't a breeze out on this late morning. And by the off chance there was, the young spirit wouldn't have felt it anyway. Couldn't really feel most things if he was being honest with himself. Especially the three uncles that were currently resting within the manor.

But that wasn't really important to him right now. What was important, however, was the new greenery that was sprouting up. With a little convincing and pleading, both Casper and Kat were able to create a colorful landscape in the garden. Initially looking otherwise devoid of life before they started.

It was perhaps the one thing that caught one of Casper's uncle's eyes before darting off, as if to play off his interest at the display.

___

Casper, alone for the meantime, was in pure amazement. Previously when looking for flower seeds so many months ago with Kat, Casper with much enthusiasm, picked out the best flowers for the garden. All with no assistance needed from her.

For a moment, it was fascinating for Kat to see his understanding of most of these plants he picked out. They must've really meant something to the boy to have been picked out with no hesitation.

Unfortunately, she wasn't here to enjoy the garden with Casper. Something with applying for some big school, but either way, he was happy for her. She's doing all kinds of different things now. Things he was very happy with listening to from time to time.

___

The child didn't realize how far time had passed until one of his uncle's came from within the manor. He didn't seem to be in such a bad mood himself, because his call for his nephew was at a normal volume. Unlike his other two uncles who could practically rattle bones with their voices.

Casper looked up to face the uncle who called him. A smile plastered on his face.

"Oh! Hey, uncle Stinkie." He called back. Smile still present.

"What's the deal, shortsheet?" Stinkie asked, floating a bit closer to his nephew. "Have you really been out here all this time lookin' at JUST flowers?"

Casper shook his head.

"Not just flowers. There's more things I've been looking at!"

"More?"

"Mhm!"

Color the other ghost curious, cause once he got to where Casper was resting at, he saw it. Bugs. For most that would probably be uninteresting, however for these two? It was something mesmerizing.

"I don't think I've seen these little critters here in a long time." Stinkie commented to Casper. A few bees passing by, landing and collecting pollen from the newly bloomed flowers.

The boy nodded.

"I think because of all the gardening me and Kat have been doing. It got their attention."

All around the two, life was booming. And Casper tried to show his uncle all the different bugs that were appearing left and right. Besides the bees, there were others. Ants, beetles, caterpillars, you name it. It was all there.

Matter of fact, Stinkie had a response to all this. He was talking about all the different types of bugs Casper had listed off. It's benefits to keeping nature going strong. Especially for a garden such as this.

And for some reason, it felt like Casper had already heard this kind of talk from his uncle before. But this is the first time they've really had a normal conversation. So it was strange.

"Uncle Stinkie, how do you know all this stuff?"

"Hm, what do ya mean?"

Casper continued, now feeling a bit embarrassed to have temporary interrupted his uncle's lecture on bugs.

"Well, I've never seen you interested in stuff like this. I mean, it's really nice to hear it! Honestly."

Stinkie couldn't answer that question initially. With turning his head to Casper briefly and then to the ground. Bringing a finger to tap on his chin. Thinking.

Finally came a response.

"Casper, I'll be honest with ya. An' don't tell the others about this. But I think I'm startin' to remember things."

Casper looked confused.

"Remember?"

"Y'know, like, remember things before being a ghost."

"Oh..."

Give it a second.

"OH!!"

There it is.

"Really?!" His voice came out louder than it should've, quickly clamping his mouth shut.

"Really?" Casper asked again, quietly this time.

Stinkie couldn't help but snicker. Soon nodding to the boy. Looking back to the bugs who had not a single clue of the spirits viewing them.

"It's kinda weird. Didn't even know I had a feelin' of recallin' stuff like this before."

"Does Stretch and Fatso know?" Casper asked. "That you're remembering stuff now?"

A pause, followed with Stinkie's head tilting to his nephew.

"Mm, nah. Just happened recently. S'ides, I'm sure they'd be bored outta their minds hearing me ramble about this new discovery. Better to not make a fuss about it."

Guess he's right about that. They were usually just fixated on the TV than sitting down to hear a random fact about a topic Casper was interested in.

Still, he didn't think his own uncle was finding his memories. Something to ask him more about later.

"I like this though." Stinkie commented, breaking his nephew's train of thought. "Just somethin' about it feels sorta. Nice."

Casper couldn't agree more. And was so happy to hear such a thing coming out of his uncle. It felt so sincere. Something that didn't come often with any of them.

"Yeah."

___

"Say, Casper?"

"Yes, uncle Stinkie?"

"Would you be interested in plantin' more flowers here? I can help if you don-"

Stinkie didn't manage to finish his question. Because in that instance, the boy immediately answered.

"Of course you can! I don't mind at all! But... uhm..." There comes the nervous tone in the boy's voice.

"You think uncle Stretch and Fatso would get annoyed by us spending time outside? And me not inside doing chores?"

"Ah, fuck 'em." Oops. That came out by mistake. Nothing he could do other than cover his mouth.

"Uncle Stinkie, language!" Casper said with an exaggerated gasp, pretending to be shocked at the use of his uncle's profanity. Honestly he's heard so much throughout the years that he could put them in a book.

"... I think it'd be nice ta change things up though. But maybe keep it between us. The rememberin' part that is."

"Yeah, right!" Casper with such excitement couldn't help but wrap his arms around Stinkie. And instead of shoving the child off. He let it be. Smiling as he went to pat the top of his nephew's head.

"Let's get back inside though." Casper said, letting go of his uncle and beginning to float up. "I really don't want to hear Stretch screech his head off about how long we were outside."

"Good idea, bulbhead." That comment was all Stinkie said before following his nephew's lead back inside.

Hopefully they would get to have this time again soon.

[alittle-toosilly]

I made a small cotl Narinder ficlet. It's my first one, so let me know if I make any slip ups or mistakes. Please enjoy :)

Summary:Narinder receives a gift. Self doubt is annoying and there's a crap ton of fluff. Idk what else to put here.

(Ficlet under the cut)

Children.

A lot of things were children at some point. Narinder himself was a child. And just like any child, so full of curiosity and wonder about this strange world he was brought into. Questions as well. Children ask an awful lot of questions. Maybe too many.

Why do did that bird fly away from me? Why is the sky blue? Where does the moon go in the daytime? Why are plants green? Why did hurt when I fell? What do clouds look like? Why does my tummy hurt? Why won't you play with me? Why are there black things under your eyes? Why this? Why that? Why? Why?

Why.

Many children ask why. Many adults ask why. Everyone asks questions. It's how we come to know about things, after all. 

Today was a day Narinder asked "Why?" A lot.

It all started midday. Narinder was busy farming, pulling roots from the earth, picking berries off bushes, digging mushrooms out of the ground, only to replant them for the next time. Monotonous cycle, wasn't it? Monotony was very common in mortal day-to-day life. Washing dishes for breakfast tomorrow, washing clothes for next week, washing bones for this month's ritual. (He somehow always ended up with the washing jobs.) Maybe routine would be a better word. Monotonous seems to have too harsh a connotation. He doesn't hate every part of his day, not all of it, no-

"Excuse me, mister?"

Narinder looks up. It's a small child. 7 or 8, maybe? Most likely the child of that deer follower. They do look quite similar, maybe a little too similar.

His face softens. This is a child, a sweet innocent soul.

He cannot be irritatable or standoffish, lest he try to explain why he made a kid cry.

"Yes?" He responds. He hopes he doesn't look too annoyed, his face has a habit of doing that. Not ideal for socializing with children.

The kid fidgets with something behind their back.

"Uhm...I uh...made this. For you."

They bring their arms forward, revealing a crudely made flower crown. It's made of many wildflowers they must've picked from the meadows not too far from this here farm. He can identify a few. Daffodils, orange pansies, bluebells, purple crocuses, and some camellias (That were probably stolen from the farm, he thinks. Camellias don't really grow wild here. And some of these flowers probably aren't in season, either.) All in a repeating pattern of lightest to darkest. Simple, but very pretty.

He tilts his head. The child keeps on nervously rambling while their fingers curl around the crown slightly.

"It's for you, uhm...mommy said yellow and orange make red stand out and your eyes are red and uh-" they stammer, looking away frequently.

He places a hand on the flower crown. They let go of it, staring at him with wide eyes. He holds it in his hand gently, careful not to crush it.

"It's beautiful, thank you." He says, a soft smile on his face.

The kid's eyes light up brighter than the night sky, their smile stretching wider than any road ever built. Pure joy is on their face. Pure joy on anyone's face is a wonderful sight, especially if you are the reason it is there.

"Really!?! I kinda smashed a few, so I dunno-" they exclaim, rambling again

Narinder chuckles "Yes, it is. Even the smashed bits. Tell your mother that she was right about the colors for me, okay?"

The child closes nods and scampers off, shouting for their mother. Narinder sighs and shakes his head, a dumb grin plastered in his face.

"Heh, kids."

He stares at the crown, before putting down his trowel and placing it upon his head. It's a little too large, so it slides down a little too close to his eyes, partially obscuring his vision, not to mention the stems and leaves that stick out and make his face itch. But he can't care less. Somebody, a child, had made this for him for no other reason than to be nice. And he would wear this fantastic gift with honor, no matter how silly he may look. (He in fact, looked very silly.) It is a god's...er...ex-god's duty to accept each offering with grace and respect, especially the homemade ones. It would be cruel and stupid not to do so, wouldn't it?

He goes back to harvesting crops, the grin threatening to stay on his face long overdue. Hell, he might actually cry. Because dammit, wasn't this the sweetest thing he's ever been a part of? A child, a sweet innocent soul decided to give him a homemade gift out of the kindness of their heart. No manipulation, no strings attached, no mockery. Just a simple kind gesture to make his day better. They even felt the need to specify how they didn't mean to smush a few flowers, as if the quality of this fine gift mattered to him. He's seen much worse than a flattened dandelion, but he'll humor this child. He needed that today, this kindness.

But why him? Self doubt and hatred are brutal, more brutal than any type of disease (For him in this moment, at least. Whether or not internal conflict is worse than vomitting or stuffed noses is for the philosophers of the future to discuss.)

Did he even deserve this gift? Even after everything he's done? Thousands of sins committed, Millions slaughtered in his name or because of him, a mother separated from her children to curb his own self-infliceted loneliness. He's done terrible, unforgivable things. He's deplorable. His words have often been pejorative and vile. He attempted to use his vessel for his own gain. This mortal body is a prison, right? Why did he get this gift, then? Why did that child deem him worthy of such an exquisite gift, such a meaningful act of kindness?

Why can't his mind just be silent for once?

He huffs, wipes a small bit of moisture from his eyes, and goes back to his duties. Their mother was right, the yellow and orange make the red in his robes pop, and the blue and purple provides nice contrast.

He claws at the earth for crops once more. 

At least somebody's thought of him.

[snarlesofthesewers]

a taste of poison

snarles x reader part 1 - if there's enough demand maybe ill make a part 2 lol idk i hate writing so it would probably take just as long as this one

a while after landing on this strange planet, finding yourself in the dark and haunting forest known as Subcon a spirit known as snatcher steals your soul and forces you to do his bidding unfortunately for you while working to complete one of snatcher's tasks you end up far deeper in the forest then you should have been and end up in someone else's hunting grounds

after searching for nearly two hours you find yourself running into a small clearing leaves rustling and twigs snapping underfoot as you ran towards the rare flower snatcher had asked you to gather for a certain potion he needed to make what kind of potion? you had no idea but what you did know is that snatcher would probably kill you if you came back empty handed you should have been paying better attention to your surroundings while running you weren't exactly paying attention to anything other then the flower leading to you tripping over a fallen tree and planting your face directly in the cold and wet soil of the forest which definitely woke you up but when you realized just how much noise you had made on the way here you could feel nothing but dread something probably heard you no.. something definitely heard you you quickly wipe the mud from your face and come to your knees scanning the tree line and tuning in your hearing as you slowly get up but you see and hear... nothing nothing but the sound of wind howling between the cracks of broken trees the coast is clear and you are alone so you begin to stand and reproach the flower pulling it from the ground with the roots intact and stashing it somewhere safe for the journey back to snatcher's house but just as you pick it up the smell of something absolutely awful fills your nose its hard to stop yourself from puking and you probably would have if you weren't already so used to the constant smell of death that lays thick in Subcon's air... but this wasn't the usual smell of old decaying bodies this smelled far more ripe where the hell was that smell even coming from? "right behind you that's where~" a small crack and snap can be heard in the treetops above with the faint sound of hissing that transitioned into a shrill and wet sounding cackle that followed soon after you run but you didn't get far before you are promptly pinned to the ground by something far larger then yourself with its claws digging into your shoulders causing fresh blood to trickle down the side of your back and onto the cold wet ground and it was at this very moment that you realized YOU BLEW IT YOU TOTALLY SCREWED YOURSELF!~ you feel the smooth and slimy skin of whatever creature had you pressed against the ground began to coil itself around you like a snake ready to suffocate its prey your mind and body had already started to go numb but before you could pass out you were quickly snapped out of it by a voice... and maybe also the claws still stuck in your shoulders like knives but mostly just the voice

"finally.. fresh meat its been days with not a single soul... I was starting to worry that people had finally gotten smart and started to avoid this wrenched forest~"

"...now then.. how about we get started my lost little mouse~ it would be a real shame if I let fresh meat like you go to waste"

you struggle and struggle and struggle some more attempting to worm your way out of its firm grasp but its no use but if you were going to die you at least wanted to get a good look at whatever was about to kill you so you continued to struggle until you could get a good look at its face even if that meant completely exhausting yourself you catch a glimpse of its soulless yellow eyes flickering

"oh how cute the prey thinks it can escape~? you keep making this easier for me I almost feel bad... maybe the hunger is finally starting to get to me or maybe its just that scent.... wait hold on that scent" they lean in close to your face and just stare at you for what felt like an eternity before uncoiling you and towering above your sore body "is... this some kind of cruel joke?" they hissed in frustration before grabbing you by the leg and pulling you close to their face "no this cant be the case... did his previous contractor kick the bucket already? its only been a week there's no way he's dead already" they drool at the thought of eating the remains of snatchers previous victim even if there's no guarantee he was even dead...yet "well well well~ ...might you be snatcher's newest pet? oh ...don't worry about trying to speak.. I have other ways of finding out~" "my little mouse"

[sophswritingthings]

IDK IF YOURE STILL WRITING FOR MIZU BUT HANAHAKI DISEASE WITH MIZU (if you don’t write for her just take this as food for thought, idk if i used that phrase write i’ve only heard it used like 3 times my whole life) LIKE READER JUST STARTS COUGHING UP FLOWERS N SHIT BUT OFC ITS HANAHAKI SO SHE REFUSES TO TELL ANYONE UNTIL LAST MINUTE AND ENDS UP COMFESSING TO MIZU BUT BOOM MIZU LOVES HER BACK SO SHES SAVED‼️

pairing: mizu x hanahaki!fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, mentions of blood, throwing up

a/n: I LOOOOOVE HANAHAKI AS A CONCEPT. I LOVE WRITING IT. THANK YOU FOR THIS.

word count: 708 words/3,783 chracters

the flowers had started a week ago.

you always knew you loved her; ever since the moment she'd protected you in the deep, white depths of the japanese forest-- you knew. the moment you looked in those damn beautiful blue eyes of hers, you knew.

but you knew mizu didn't do "love". you didn't even know if she knew the meaning of the word, since she'd never been shown an ounce of love from this world. this world beat her down, shown her hate, and it had all been instilled in her ever since than.

you hated to see her like that. it hurt your heart.

more so, it felt like the breath was being knocked right out of you; your lungs being squeezed and flattened-- knowing the white lilies growing inside your lungs were the reason.

your love for mizu was suffocating you. and it would probably do so until the end of your life.

but to you... being able to show her that love, even if it did kill you, it was all worth it.

she had no clue about the flowers that'd you'd been hacking up for a week. when you would cough up the flowers, white lilies, you would quickly bury them in the snowy depths of the forest.

recently, blood started coming up with the flowers.

it really was starting to kill you.

currently you were sitting around the fire with mizu and ringo, trying to keep warm in camp. taigen was with you, too, but he was off trying to find something for you four to eat.

you could feel it in your throat. you didn't have enough time to run off and throw up.

placing a hand over your mouth, you weakly coughed, feeling the metal taste of blood on your tongue; and the soft petals of the lily on your cheeks.

"(y/n)?" mizu's raspy voice calls out to you. with your hand still on your mouth, you turn your gaze on her, "what is wrong? you've been acting off all damn weak."

you shake your head, as if to protest. but that was the worst idea you had ever had.

when your head moves, you start hacking up the flowers all over; some petals landing in the fire-- and blood dripping down your lips into the pristine soft ground.

mizu was immediately at your side, tugging you away from the fire to prevent you from falling in, "how long has this been happening?" her voice is firm and almost hostile, but you know better. that was mizu's way of showing concern.

"a-a week," you choke out, eyes flicking up to hers; where her glasses had fallen off in the snow from panic. you thought she'd go and pick them up, situate herself, but she didn't. she kept looking at you, blue eyes swirling with the upmost concern.

"and you didn't think to say anything." it was more of a statement then a question, "you could die," she grumbles out, "why would you just let yourself die?"

"because theres nothing that will fix it," you whisper, "you don't love me."

"you're just assuming things."

"no. I'm right."

"no, you're not," her thumb and forefinger move up to grip your chin, her eyebrows knitted together in an angry expression. not angry; thats the wrong word. frustrated.

"but you can't love me. you don't." you insist.

"but I do, you dipshit," mizu almost laughs. its more of a scoff.

"don't call me a dipshit." you grumble.

"you're acting like one." mizu shoots back, "i've never loved anyone. anything. not truly, at the least," she sighs. "but I love you."

you cough again, feeling more flowers push up from your throat. when they spatter on the ground, there was no blood. you place a hand on your throat, feeling your airway clear. she loved you.

she loved you.

"i-i love you," you whisper back, your tone soft and small tears in the corners of your eyes. her hands are placed on the small of your back, pulling you against her chest. your arms wrap around her neck, letting out a shuddering sigh into her skin.

she was the thing that was suffocating you. and also the only thing that made you breathe easy.

a/n: i kinda went a little off the og idea...... but..... i hope you like...

[theknightmarket]

um i really wanna see a fic where damian takes care and looks after da. idk maybe da is sick but came to work anyways. maybe they were overwoking themself and eventually collapse. maybe they get injured somehow. just our dear mayor being concerned for them and looking after them

"You're too stubborn to die."

In which Damien helps the DA in a compromised state.

TW: angst, injury, blood

Pages: 15 - Words: 6,000

[Requests: OPEN]

A regular Sunday for the mayor of Los Angeles was, surprisingly, incredibly similar to that of any other thirty-year-old working man. It was one of Damien’s only days off in the month, and he treasured them like the holy grail; if his job was to hold endless amounts of paperwork, incessant meetings with countless people, and public speeches to bore the masses and himself, then his day off would be filled with as many relaxing activities as possible. 

Damien wandered around the apartment, a watering can in one hand and his cane in the other. The doctor had long since said that he didn’t need it anymore, and that his insistence that he did was only psychosomatic, but it was more than that. To him, it was a grounding tool. If things got rough, and, in his profession, it was more of a when, he could grip tightly onto the stick and find comfort in the stability of it. Metal is not an easy material to break, and he much preferred it to messing with his jacket’s edges or cuffs. That meant, no matter how many of his veins popped through paled skin, it would always be there for him. 

Now, though, he was content. The sun was shining, the windows let a blissful breeze flow through, and there was the distant hum of the radio from the kitchen. It couldn’t be more perfect. Sundays were always this way, like entering another dimension where famine had been decimated, all wars ended with the flick of a pen, greed, pride, envy wiped off the map. Even the air he breathed felt lighter. 

There was a bounce in Damien’s step as he moved around, singing quietly along to the tune and thinking about his next projects. Getting all of the plants watered was number seven on his checklist – and, yes, it was in his back pocket while he went through the motions – but with only nine left to go, he thought he could get some recreation in. Maybe pick up a new book, you were raving on about ‘The Mysterious Rider’ yesterday, or he could swing by Celine’s place. Though, that place always did give him the creeps…

And you were going to be back in an hour. 

The memory still made him smile, how could it not? He had been so excited but so nervous to ask you on a date, he’d double-checked and triple-checked and one more check for good measure. Hell, he’d planned the day out to a T, given that you’d even say yes. But Celine had convinced him you would, so he prepared flowers, reservations, outfits, all so that nothing could go wrong. 

Then everything went wrong. He didn’t like focusing on that aspect of the story, it only made him wonder how he ever got you to go out with him again, but it all ended in a pretty fun evening, if he did say so himself. You’d assured him that it wasn’t all for naught, and that you’d had a good time, going so far as to ask if he was free a couple nights after. That one night turned into three nights, and then nights turned into days, and then, after a good few months, you’d gone right ahead and moved in together. 

This was your apartment, too, it was where you came back to every evening with a tired smile and ready to have dinner together – and this night was to be no different. 

Or Damien thought, until that hour passed, and he remained the only person in the room. But that was fine! He could hold out, and you probably only got caught in traffic or something. It just gave him time to get started on that book. It was absolutely nothing to worry about. 

After taking it gently from the shelf, he settled onto the couch, a pillow behind his head and comfortable in evening clothes. The first sentence crossed his eyes, and he took in all the information he could as he read through the first chapter. It left him with questions, but that was fine, because you still weren’t back. Another half hour passed, and when he looked back up from the pages, he noticed that he had unconsciously shifted to be angled towards the front door. He tried to tell himself that everything was alright, he didn’t have to worry, work was probably just getting the best of you. Lord knows he wasn’t one to talk.

So, Damien kept reading, and when his eyes started to strain and holding up the book was too large of a chore, he went and made a cup of coffee. This was the first time you’d been late home, and what kind of partner would he be if he was asleep when you, surely, came back. 

Minutes later, he was sipping idly at the kitchen island. The window across from him showed shimmers of orange and red, the cityscape of Los Angeles almost teasing him where he stood. You were out there somewhere, and he felt lousy not knowing where that was. 

He took another sip. 

The wall-mounted clock ticked by. Seconds felt like hours, and every one that dropped into the bucket pushed him closer to the edge. His jacket swayed on the hook, his shoes just below them. It would be so easy to get a cab over to your building and check how you’re getting on – you’d be hunched over your desk, taking a call from precinct cops who couldn’t do their jobs right, and then you’d see him, and you’d apologize for not getting back. He’d be fine with it, of course, and he’d end up helping you in the case that had its claws in you. 

Oh, but he knew that he couldn’t do that. His heart thudded in his chest, his hands shook, but he respected your boundaries. It’d only been a month since you moved in, after all, and he didn’t want to overstep anything that quickly. Heaving a not-so-relaxing sigh, he vowed that he would stay right there in the apartment until you got back, no matter how long it took you. 

By the third hour, he was starting to reconsider that. 

The soles of his shoes were burned into the wooden flooring, his pacing surely annoying the neighbors below, but he could care less. Show him that you were alive and well, and he’d stop, but he had yet to see any clue as to your wellbeing, so they’d have to deal with it. He hated this, he hated this so much. Pointless waiting and irreverent, troublesome thoughts. They had no use to him, but he didn’t know how to get rid of them. They burrowed into his mind like an infestation of roaches or disease. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. He was going to throw that clock out of the window if he didn’t get ahold of himself. But what else was there to do? He’d completed all of his chores, even the ones he promised to leave for the next day, and he found himself waiting like a puppy at the front door. His eyes wavered over it, hoping for it to open just an inch to show he wasn’t stuck in purgatory. 

Whatever higher power there was seemed to take pity on Damien, because not two seconds later, the creak of old wood broke the ticking of the clock. He almost sprung to his feet and launched himself at you when you entered, but he held himself back, if not for decorum, then for the sight of you. You were the most gorgeous person he had ever laid eyes upon, but he was not one to lie to himself; right now, you looked terrible. Your skin tone had lightened so much that you appeared ill, and your chest was rising quicker than before. Were you sick or had working three hours after your shift finally got to you? Damien didn’t know, and he didn’t care. Taking care of these symptoms was his top priority. 

“Darling?” he called out, still restraining himself from rushing to your side. 

You didn’t answer. Instead, you lugged yourself towards the bedroom, completely dismissing hunger. You were far too tired to think about that, the bed, comfy cushions, and a warm blanket calling to you. 

Damien caught your arm before you could get too far, though, with a concerned grimace playing on his lips. “Are you alright?” 

He sounded worried, and that was the last thing you wanted – never mind the fact that it was well-warranted – so you heaved a tiny smile and muttered, “I’m fine, love, just tired.” 

He still wasn’t satisfied, that was obvious, but you weren’t paying attention to that. A kiss on his forehead from you, a noise of discontentment from him, and you were on your way to the bedroom, trying to focus on your feet as to not trip over warping wood. Everything was slowly fading away at the edges of your vision, consumed by blackness and turning the rest fuzzy. 

You knew exactly why this was happening, you knew it was bad, but no way in hell would you let Damien know. You loved him more than anything on the earth, but he was bound to worry about you more than necessary. You’d be fine, you silently promised him. You had to be. 

Nearly six hours later, the moon was high in the sky, casting a shimmer of gray dust across the landscape. Light reflected off of windows, night walkers stumbled over rocks, and dogs howled in the alleyways. Patters of rain caressed against the city, warning of a dreary but calm morning. 

Even with that promise, Damien couldn’t sleep. He had work in the morning, his day off having ended at the stroke of midnight, and yet the thought of leaving you in the apartment was horrifying. You had knocked out the second your head hit the pillow, leaving him to his thoughts, and they centered around just one thing: were you alright? He couldn’t believe you were just tired, since you’d woken up bright and early the morning before. He was almost insulted you thought he’d fall for that, but he was too worried to mind. 

He dragged a hand through his hair. It tickled at the nape of his neck, though he hardly cared. What if something was wrong? Really wrong? His heart thrummed against his ribcage, like if it hit hard enough, you’d wake up and tell him what was wrong. But his ribs didn’t crack, and you didn’t wake up, and Damien was left sitting in the armchair by the window with tired eyes. This wasn’t doing any good, and the sun was due to rise in a few hours; he figured he might as well make you both some breakfast. 

Damien shuffled out of the bedroom, a dark robe swaying across the floor and his cane stepping beside him. He held it tight while he made his way to the kitchen, where he noticed blurry chatter. He started confused, which quickly morphed into fear, and then his cheeks brightened in silent embarrassment. What he had thought was a robber was just the radio he had forgotten to shut off. He was glad you weren’t awake to see him creep around the corner, stick raised to thwack however was in there. 

He turned the volume down and went to work. After so many times missing breakfast, Damien wasn’t sure what to make, so he decided on the only thing he knew how to decently cook – waffles, and even then, there was a chance they would come out burnt. 

The crack of eggs and dust of flour was comforting in a way to him that only a childhood meal could be. In the earliest hours of the day, there would be no consequence to adding a gram more sugar than needed or cooking them for a second too long. The waffle iron steamed and sizzed in front of him once the batter was poured on, almost making him laugh. He let himself smile for the first time that day, the sense of warmth and lightness filling him. 

“It has come to our attention that – last night, at the Dimmock Public Health Centre – the district attorney of Los Angeles was shot in an attempted assassination—”

Damien’s smile collapsed. 

“—The D.A was rushed back to a car that was seen heading away from the scene, while police were contacted to find the assassin. We have not heard back from our sources about their wellbeing, but we have been assured that they are no longer in danger. Despite this, there has been speculation as to their current location and the reaction of federal agents—” 

His own heartbeat cut off the radio, pounding against his head like an overzealous drummer. The smell of burnt food wafted into his nose, his vision toppled over the edge, his hands sweat, his feet moved before his mind could catch up. You weren’t ill, you weren’t overworked, you were shot. And he didn’t realize, and you didn’t tell him, and you weren’t waking up. 

You weren’t waking up. 

His cane slammed against the footboard, but you didn’t stir, not even a huff. He would have begged for you to groan or berate him or say anything, but you didn’t. You stayed quiet, and Damien’s breathing grew louder. 

He tossed himself to your side, strew the bedsheets across the floor and saw, red as a rose, blood. It seeped into the fabric, like bacteria overcoming a wound. God, your wound. Normally, he would ask your permission to lift your shirt, but this was urgent, so he disregarded the crimson staining his hands and pulled the hem up. 

Tears flooded his eyes as fear flooded his heart. A lazy medical patch had been slapped onto the entry hole, half of it having peeled off already and the other bled through. Damien had never trusted the medical professionals present during speeches, and this only deepened his distaste for them – but he’d deal with them later. For now, he had to wake you up. 

First, he whispered shakily, “Come on, wake up, dear.” 

No response. He tried again. 

“Dear, please.”

No response. 

“C’mon, you have to wake up, please.” 

No response—

A cough. 

You were alive, you were panicked, but you were alive. Eyes shot open and limbs rushing to get you out of bed, but you were stopped short by your own hiss. It felt like you had been shot again, more tissue and muscle ripped through with no regard for the nerves there – it made you think the bullet had been laced with something, hellfire, poison, but no. Dismally, you remembered the paramedics removing the metal as quick as they could, but speed was favored over kindness. The hole pricked again in response. 

Coming down from the small adrenaline high, your eyes focused back in on Damien, who kneeled in front of you. He looked worse for wear, and you wondered if he had been injured, too. This wasn’t true, of course, and the drop of his shoulders gave you some relief, though the slight wet patches dripping onto his cheeks had you furrowing your brows. 

“A-are you okay?” you mumbled, tentatively grasping his hand. 

A weak chuckle tumbled out of him, fading like the whizz of a stone dropped down a cavern. He squeezed your hand tighter, remaining wary of your state, and asked, “Are you?”

Your attempt to nod was interrupted by a rack of coughs shaking your very body. They didn’t stop, not even when pain splintered away from your wound and all breath vacated your lungs. You weren’t fine, that much was obvious, but, when you’d calmed down from the fit, you settled on staying quiet. 

Damien had been your friend for the majority of your life, but, after a year at the very most, it was obvious how much he worried. If you told him there was a crack in the pavement, he’d cross the street to avoid tripping – and if you told him that you were at risk of passing out from pain, you’d be suffocated from his fear. He was such a mother hen; the thought nearly made you laugh but you stopped yourself before you could be overwhelmed by coughs again. 

The man sighed at your silence. Unbeknownst to you, not giving him an answer was making him more scared as the seconds ticked by. He pushed away stray hairs that had fallen into your face, trying to see the truth in your eyes. Comforting, obviously masking injury, you stared right back. 

“We have to get you to the hospital.”

If it were Damien in your place, you’d agree in a heartbeat, but you were the one lying in bed, blood sticking clothes to your side. Your partner, however, was the mayor of Los Angeles, they could barely go a day without him. You didn’t want to risk taking up his precious time, when some disaster could strike that he’d have to report on. In your mind, it made the most sense for you to go about your daily lives and for you to just deal with it throughout the day. The shot wasn’t that bad, and you’d seen bills for a paper cut before.

Considering this, you found it in yourself to clear your throat and reply, “No, we don’t, I’ll be fine.” 

“We have to get your wound checked out, I mean,” he gestured vaguely to the stained area, “those medics were clearly frauds- they didn’t even dress it right, and it’s coming off already, and you’re bleeding—” 

You pulled his hands closer to you, fingers curling around his own in a silent reminder to calm down. His volume was steadily rising, which meant his heart rate was, too, and you knew how he got when he was overwhelmed. These past hours had already put more strain on him than you had wanted. 

“I’ll be fine,” you repeated, offering a smile. He responded in kind, but his was more placating than agreeable, “if it was anything to worry about, I’d be in the hospital, now, wouldn’t I?”

Damien mulled this over in his mind. On one hand, your logic was sound, as always, and arguing with you had long since proved a fruitless venture. On the other, he didn’t like the thought of leaving you to your devices, as if you’d never been injured in the first place. What if something happened to you and you didn’t notice? With nothing else to do, he decided on a compromise.

“Okay,” he conceded, and, for a second, you thought yourself safe – you might have even gotten down to the offices for some paperwork – but Damien’s hands darted to the discarded sheets and re-tucked them around you. 

Damien was going to look after you himself.

He was scarily efficient in how he moved around the room, gathering spare pillows, blankets, anything that would make you feel more comfortable in the bed. By the end of his little escapade, you looked more like a bird in a nest than a human. You couldn’t deny how proud he looked, though, and it would be easy to let your eyelids slip down for a few more minutes…

But you snapped to your senses and summonsed your will to talk. “Don’t you have to go into work today?”

He paused, back turned to you, at his position drawing the blinds. “…Not necessarily.”

“Damien,” you drawled.

The hairs on the nape of his neck pricked up and his face felt the power of a furnace. “Well,” spinning around, he did poorly at hiding his blush, “technically, yes, I do – but the office can handle work without me, just for today.” He slid into place beside you, resting a hand onto your shoulder. “You are more important.”

Normally, you’d jump at the opportunity to spend more time with your partner. Your schedules weren’t exactly kind in allowing you to be together, and moments with him were treasured more than those without. However, at this second, your eyebrows furrowed, and your lips pouted. Most of the time, you’d be forced to get rest, confined to bed while Damien ran errands to ease your weary soul. That was the last thing you wanted, and the only way to convince him to hold back would be to get him out of the apartment entirely. Besides, this wasn’t as big a deal as he was making it out to be, you were sure.

As if he could sense your resistance, Damien whispered, “I still have three hours until I go. I’ll take care of you, and then we’ll assess the situation.”  

Sneaky. Damien might have been reserved and shy in public, but you have seen you’ve seen your fair share of his mischievous, sly side. Despite hardly ever getting practice, he was worryingly good at getting what he wanted via cunning means. You both respected and feared that aspect of him. 

He left a kiss on your forehead, now, and rose from the bed to restart his preparations. If he had the time, he would’ve crafted some kind of checklist, but getting you a glass of water and medical equipment was top priority. That, and salvaging what he could from those burning waffles. 

When he was back at your side again, your eyes having slipped closed once or twice, skin being tugged away from muscle caught your attention. The patch had been badly applied, but adhesive remained against the wound that meddled with blood slowly spurting out of the cracks. Divots sprang red and raised flesh curled around the hole like a mountain range. It made Damien’s stomach squirm and flip, but he focused his expression to clean the area.

As you looked down at the man, ruffled dark hair a mess from stressing and still in his robe, your heart swelled with love. He was your partner, and it was crazy to think you were his. Even after four months, everything felt like a haze, a dream you were scared to wake up from, because you knew nothing would come close to this. Carefully, you shifted your arm to caress Damien’s cheek.

He glanced back up at you quizzically, a look you only returned with a smile. Shaking his head, he returned to his work slightly more comforted than he was before. 

Nearly half an hour passed in this fashion; Damien patted off the dried blood, replaced that medical path with a bandage around your waist, and managed to get your mind off of the wound with excerpts from ‘The Mysterious Rider’. You appreciated everything he was doing, down to the way he’d pause when he noticed your eyes drooping. Most of the time, you would shake yourself awake again with a yawn, but there were the odd times when you felt yourself drift off for seconds at a time. These bouts of fatigue never lasted long, and, while you were thankful for the brief rest, the expression on Damien’s face had you staying awake longer. 

Every time the curtains closed even slightly, a mix of emotions spurred in him, melting over his eyes, and giving you a first-row seat to his thoughts. Half of him was glad to see you comfortable enough in this nest, it liked seeing you warm and sappy – but the other half was always scared that it might have been the last time you’d close your eyes, as if he hadn’t done a good enough job to keep you alive, and it would be all his fault that you… slipped. But that all wiped away when they opened again, revealing your familiar and welcoming irises. Full of life. 

Even though you both knew how he felt, he prefaced the start of the next chapter with, “You can fall asleep, you know.” 

You couldn’t deny the fact that you were tired – getting shot would do that to you – but worrying Damien any more than he already was, was at the bottom of your bucket list. So, you lightly shook your head and replied, “Nope, I’m so awake, I could—” 

You were, helpfully, cut off by a yawn. Damien looked at you from his armchair, unimpressed, but you continued, nevertheless, “—I could finish a case. Maybe go back to work, in fact.” 

At this, he became alert, the sharp spike of fear prodding him in the side. “No, not yet.” 

“Damien,” you pleaded.

“I said ‘no’.” As he stood, his cane felt like an earthquake against the wooden flooring. Inwardly, you sighed; you’ve never liked getting into arguments with him, mostly because he was normally the one in the right, but it was unavoidable. Damien had work in two hours, and getting there was a quarter of that, and, before that, there was changing into his uniform. He was neglecting doing any of these to take care of you, and you found it hard not voicing your opinion about that. 

“Look,” you started, sitting up straighter in the bed, “how about we do a test run?”

Damien stopped himself from getting through the doorway to listen to what you had to say. Still, he was thinking through getting a cold rag in case of a fever, but most of his attention was directed towards your proposition.

You continued, tentatively, “You go on a walk, alright?” Disagreement stirred inside him the second ‘go’ came out of your mouth, which you could see and began battling immediately, “And we’ll see how I get on alone.” 

He thought over the scenario, practically moving his head to the direction of his thoughts, until he rushed to your side and kneeled down. Your hand was soon encapsulated in his fingers, warm and worried. “What if something goes wrong?”

“It won’t,” you promised, leaning forward to peck at his lips. Really, you couldn’t be sure it would be alright, but it was worth trying just to see the blissful and hope-ridden look on Damien’s face. “It’s not like I’m going to die if you’re away for two seconds, love.”

With one more sigh and a slightly longer kiss for good luck, he began to get ready for a walk outside.

Five minutes in, Damien was spiraling. 

His tolerance for being away from you had plummeted since the day before, and the glum of the streets was getting to him. It was indeed raining, turning his polished boots gritty from dust swept through the pathways, and it was difficult to discern what were droplets from the sky or from his skin. Despite the cold brushing against him, the worry he was experiencing was sending him into overdrive. He couldn’t tell if he was warm or cool if he was still walking or if he had made it past the first few steps to your apartment. It felt like he was having withdrawals, but there was no way he’d go back. Not only would he still be scared for you, but the disappointment you’d feel seeing him was something he’d do anything to avoid. 

So, he took in a deep breath and tried to steady his beating heart. It was horrible, but he put himself through it. For you. He hoped you’d be proud, but he also hoped you’d be asleep when he returned. 

The day was… nice, he supposed. Not many people were out this early, a few older gentlemen he passed with a wave, but the most popular of the species were stray dogs. One in particular he saw often when he was heading to or from work. The street had a nickname for the poor thing, and they’d elected to keep it there with spare scraps from the table or chew toys out of old pig’s ears. Benjie, if he remembered correctly, a golden lab that had been around for the last three years. 

Fondly, Damien thought back on when you and the dog first interacted. He knew you loved pets, especially the over-active, wholesome ones. You’d requested him stay with you as soon as you saw him, even wagered you’d get him groomed and trained into a proper house dog. He rolled his eyes, you patted on his arm and vowed that, one day, he’d be the most pampered pup in all of Los Angeles. 

But that had yet to come to fruition. Benjie was still out on the street, taking leftovers of roast dinners and maintaining a rough coat. Maybe, when this whole ideal was over, Damien would bring him home. 

It was with that thought that a whole new cavalcade of bad ideas flooded his mind. They stopped him dead in his tracks, and – following that them – paled him beyond recognition. He flopped against a brick house, steadied his cane in the ridges of cobblestone and thought back on the very reason why you were in this position to begin with. 

There was an attempted assassination. Someone had attempted to assassinate you. It hadn’t settled with him, until now, that someone powerful had hired a killer to end your life. And they had nearly succeeded, and you had nearly died, and—

And if they weren’t able to do it the first time, who was to say they wouldn’t try again? 

Damien’s vision blurred together, buildings crumbling together and horses in the distance clicking like the trigger of a gun. He had to get back home, to you. God knows what could’ve happened to you in the time he was gone. You’d said you’d be fine, sure, but you were suffering from massive amounts of blood loss, and he loved you, but you were never the most logical person in the first place. 

His feet were moving regardless of thought or will to. His eyes were clouded with possibilities and his mind overtaken by sorrow. If you weren’t okay when he got back, it would be all his fault. Why did he have to be such an idiot? He should have stayed with you, and he didn’t, and now you were suffering the consequences of his stupid choices. 

He stumbled across the stones, plucked his cane from holes and brushing off the coattails of early risers. They were confused, but he didn’t care; all that mattered was getting back to you as quick as possible. Tears pricked up in the corners of his eyes, those wide windows scanning the street for your front door, and when he came to it, he all but ripped it off its hinges in order to get in. 

Going two steps at a time was too slow for him but falling back down the stairs would be of no use to anyone. Still, he pushed himself to get to your apartment at a record pace. One mantra echoed through his mind while he struggled to your front door. Please, be alright. It was wish, to you, to any higher power, to anything that could better the chances. 

His heart plummeted in his chest when he saw you lying on the ground.

Damien’s eyes whirled around, inspecting, for a second, for any hint as to what happened. Your arms were flattened out in front of, appearing to have cushioned your fall, and the only blood visible was what had leaked through your bandage. 

Nevertheless, he fell to his knees next you, tilted your head up and looked for any other sign of injury. Hope overcoming horror, you seemed okay. Passed out, but okay, so he took his time in carefully drawing a hand up and down your body. Your heartbeat was steady and fine, your skin was barren of unexpected blemishes, and your eyelids were just beginning to flutter open again. 

“Damien…?”

The second that he heard your voice, Damien captured you in a tight hug. Of course, at a hiss of pain from you, he pulled back, but you were going nowhere. The strict shift in temperature from the outside had him in whiplash and waking up with your back against the floor was doing you no better. He buried his head in your neck, both to keep you as close as possible and hide the tears beginning to flow. Not entirely sure of what was happening, you pat his back with one hand and cradled his head with another.

You shushed him and pecked at where you could, in the midst of whispering, “Hey, it’s all okay. I told you I wouldn’t die.” 

Damien sobbed. 

You held him tighter, an embrace solid enough to assure him you were really and truly there. 

Exhale shivering in the air, he mumbled against you, “N-no, you’re… oh, you’re too stubborn to die.”

You smiled, ignoring the situation and thanking you lucky stars that you’d landed such a loving man. 

“I’m here, love, everything’s okay.” Another kiss, and he lifted his head up to stare at you. Despite you being the one to have been shot, have passed out cold on the ground, you were comforting him. How had he ever gotten such a kind soul? He didn’t know, but he knew he was grateful, and that he’d do anything to keep you. 

Shakily, he muttered, “Come on.” He secured his arm underneath your shoulder and lifted you to stand, against the twitching of his cane. The weight of two people was forgiven when you were up fully, and he gently sat you down at the island while he gathered your shoes and coat. “We are getting you to the hospital,” he announced, and that was that.

Being the mayor of Los Angeles had some drawbacks; long working days, the eyes of the press, social obligations – but there were definitely some advantages, not least of all being able to order anything with impunity, whether that was a public car, table at a restaurant, or being to stay in the room while nurses flittered around your partner. At this point, leaving your side felt more hellish than he expected hell to be, and, though he hated abusing his power, he was not about to wait in the hallway for the next hour. 

So, by your side Damien stayed. The nurses poked and prodded at you, uncaringly prescribing you unlabeled medication, and redoing the bandages. He wasn’t ashamed to say he relaxed when they left you along, finally. At least he understood when enough was enough – or, he thought so, because if he told you that, you’d probably regard him unimpressed.

He caught your hand – noticeably less pale than it was before – in his own, and cradled it against his chest, as if fearing you’d disappear when let go. But, with you safely inside a hospital and treated by professionals, he could finally calm down. His nerves had been going haywire ever since you’d been late to dinner, but they found no reason to not settle down under his skin. 

“You know, I love you.”

Damien perked up before sending a confused glance your way. Why were you telling him now? Was there something that he didn’t know? Had you been shot, had someone tried to kill you again—

“I nearly died yesterday, and,” you laughed awkwardly, as if you were telling a crude joke, “I kept thinking, what if I never get to tell you again?” 

Now, he was fully turned to you, and it was then that he saw you were started to cry. He’d never seen you look like this before, wet cheeks and red eyes. His eyebrows involuntarily bent, and he squeezed your hand tighter. 

You continued on, “I don’t want you to forget how I feel, and I think that if I had to live without you, I—” You cut yourself off with a sob. 

Without a second thought, Damien moved to sit next to you on the bed, bringing you into his chest and cradling you as you cried. He peppered some kisses along your ear, neck, anywhere that could comfort you. He thanked his reputation for getting you a private room, lest you have to deal with people looking in to see the mayor and the district attorney communicating affection. 

“I love you, too,” he responded, tone having never been more sincere. 

You stayed like that until the nurses came back in, singing praises of Damien’s handiwork and pointing out your conditions. You would have to stay for a while longer, and you didn’t miss the proud smirk on your partner’s face when they told you that you should’ve come in sooner. Still, you laughed, rolled your eyes, and kissed him on the cheek. That normally shut him up, and this time was no exception. 

Sighing, he sat back in his own chair, hand still caressing yours. “Do you still want me to go back to work?” he teased.

You brought Damien’s hand to you face, planted a well-intentioned kiss on the upper part of his hand, and winked. “Never.”

He felt himself lucky for being in a hospital; he was sure he could have died from a heart attack right there and then. 

[Thank you so much for requesting - I'm sorry this took so long, but I'm glad that I got it out in the end! Gotta say, when I saw that I was allowed to injure the DA, I was already scheming. It did suck that I couldn't put a heart-rate monitor joke in though, since they hadn't been invented yet, but eh, the trade off is that we get nervous Damien waiting for you to come home. Again, thanks for requesting]

[classickook]

more könig headcanons

a/n: i literally cannot get this man out of my head lol i wrote this with civilian!reader in mind and it ended up getting pretty specific (flower shop au???) but i hope y’all still enjoy <3

<< prev | next >>

- idk how the two of you meet but i’m imagining a quaint little town that’s far away from any sort of battle that könig stumbles upon while on break

- let me set the scene: you work in a floral shop or market and spend most of your day planting, nurturing, and arranging a variety of flowers <3

- könig sees you one day and is immediately drawn to your kind smile and sunny aura (no wonder the flowers are so beautiful when they look upon you for sunlight and nourishment, he thinks) and finds himself a bit extremely nervous to introduce himself

- you notice him shuffling awkwardly by the door so you greet him warmly and ask if there’s something you can help him find

- i just know our gentle giant is blushing like crazy at this point; being so close to you and hearing the soft timbre of your voice has his blood pressure skyrocketing

- he shoves his hands in his pockets to hide how shaky they are and tries to act all casual but ends up accidentally knocking over an arrangement next to the door

- the poor guy is BEET RED now and wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole, he’s so embarrassed :(

- he apologizes profusely and feels SO awful for ruining your pretty arrangement, he even offers to pay for it but you wave him off easily as he picks up the broken vase and crushed petals

- “don’t worry about it,” you offer kindly. “it wasn’t my best work anyway.”

- könig still feels like absolute garbage and you can clearly tell by his body language that he feels terribly uncomfortable and kinda curls into that massive body of his to appear smaller

- “did you know that the gladiolus symbolizes strength and integrity like the gladiators of their namesake?” you ask as a way to distract him from the little accident. his pale blue eyes settle on you as you continue, lightly stroking the baby soft petals of the arrangement nearby. “they kind of remind me of you, soldier. valiant and strong yet undoubtedly beautiful.”

- they also represent infatuation is what you don’t tell him, afraid to voice your immediate crush on the man who quite literally stumbled into your floral shop

- “they’re pretty,” he breathes, however, you notice his gaze is not on the flowers you’re showcasing — it’s on you

- your breath catches in your throat at the unwavering contact, stunned into silence as he cautiously reaches forward to brush his gloveless fingers across your cheek; and he’s pleased to find that the velvety-smooth sensation of your skin is incomparable to that of any petal on earth

- from there on out, könig spends most of his free time in your shop, asking about the meanings of every flower, buying a bouquet of your recommendations each day, and carefully placing them on the counter for you before he leaves

- he finally builds up the courage to ask you out, properly, to which you very quickly agree, and the two of you are inseparable after that

- you spend most of your time with him, going for walks in the park, visiting cafes in the area and laughing loudly when könig plops a fingertip of whipped cream on your nose just to lean forward and kiss the sweetness into his mouth, leaving you a blushing mess

- calls you his blümchen (little flower)

- he definitely strikes me as the type who would follow you around like a puppy and do anything you ask! könig aka sunshine/golden retriever bf we all deserve <3

- want him to carry your purse? done

- need some help around the shop? no problem

- you end up buying too much at the store and need him to hold everything for you? you got it

- someone bothering you? consider it already taken care of

- he’s basically your bodyguard and takes your safety very, very seriously; the epitome of scary boyfriend privilege right here

- this man adores you and worships the ground you walk on!!!! enamored doesn’t even begin to express his feelings for you

- literal definition of a simp

- would do anything and everything for you; i’m talking he would kill or die for you (he’s a bit dramatic but we love that about him)

- he loves holding your hand, playing with your fingers, brushing your hair as you lay on his chest ! könig goes crazy for that stuff :)

- especially loves skin-to-skin contact because he wants to get as close to you as possible; he just can’t get enough!

- as i’ve said before, this man’s love language is physical touch and he uses it as a relaxant if he’s anxious or on sensory overload

- extremely observant and can read you like a book (as can you; the two of you just get each other, ya know? match made in heaven fr)

- perfect for cuddling ! literally more comfortable than any pillow or bed, so you end up sleeping on him most of the time and he’s 100% okay with that

- könig loves having you in his arms, especially if he’s just recently come back from a mission, and it makes him so unbelievably happy that you feel safe with him :’)

- has a picture of you in his wallet that he pulls out every single night while he’s away from you on a mission. the poor photo is so wrinkled and faded from the number of times he takes it out but he refuses to throw it away even when you suggest on replacing it; he would never pass up on more pictures of you but i can guarantee he would keep all of them (scrapbook king <3)

- he’s as much of a lover as he is a fighter and i stand by that

- would never ever raise his voice at you; if the two of you get in an argument, he would simply take a breather and maybe go for a walk to clear his head before coming back to hug you and apologize and make things right

- if when he eventually proposes, i know for a fact that it would be with a family heirloom that holds a lot of history and sentimental value (because he’s sweet like that)

- he’s such a good guy, i love him to death!!!! (men all over the world: take notes)

[i-am-a-l0st-gh0st]

One Last Time- Kaeya X Gn!reader

Can you just kiss me? One last time? That's all I ask... T/W- angst, death, slight yelling, blood, fighting, battle

★Masterlist★

Taglist form

You ran towards the battlefield trying to find Kaeya. He ran off and was nowhere to be found. You tried asking around, but no one knew anything. Running into battle may not have been the best idea, but Kaeya was out there. He could be hurt or even worse... dead. There were screams all throughout monstadt, mothers, fathers and children. No one knows how this was started, but many suspected there was a traitor amongst monstadt.

The battlefield was bloody and people were dropping like flies from either side. Blood stained the once-green grass, and blood seeped into starfell lake. Tears stained your cheeks are you ran through just trying to find Kaeya. Or any trace of him, or even any remains. You could hardly see past all fighting. Soon you were gonna have to force them out of your way.

"Kaeya!" You called. It was too loud no one even turned their head.

"Kaeya please...!"

You ran towards the statue of the seven in windrise, with tears streaming down your face. Hiding nearby the tree. Why had Kaeya run off? Why? The more you thought about him the more you became upset. You held on closely to the piece of jewelry he gave you, begging the archons to make him appear in front of you.

You heard two people sneak up behind you, one was the enemy. He raised his weapon and tried to strike you. The second person was none other than Kaeya... He fell to the ground, clucthing his chest.

You ran towards the attacker and struck them with your vison (A/N idk which vision u have or wanna so u pick on). Immediately after said person retreated you ran toward the bleeding man on the ground.

"Kaeya.. come one, breath for me." You kept trying to keep the blood from coming out of the wound but it was no use.

"Y/N, it won't work.."

"Kaeya please no it can't end like this..."

"Y/N, I want you to do something for me."

"Anything." You couldn't hold back your tears.

"Can you kiss me? One last time? Thats all i ask.."

"Kaeya you not dying, i won't let you.

"Y/n listen to me, just one last time."

Y/N without a moment hesitation kissed Kaeya, one final time.

The final time their lips would touch, the final time they'd hug. The final time they cried together. The final time for everything. "Kaeya... It wasn't supposed to end like this."

"I love you... My... beautiful flower..." And with those words he took his final breath. You held on to him for as long as you could. Trying to convince yourself he was alright. It was only 10 minutes later it had finally hit. His final words lingered in your mind. Replaying and replaying as if somehow he would appear right in front of you and say it.

[thatoneao3author]

randomized fic tag game

fuck it I’m creating a fic brainstorming challenge in an attempt to interact with the fandom ig

so I used this au generator to assign you an au, this fan fiction trope generator to give you a trope/situation/sometimes another au, feel free to keep clicking until you get something that inspires you.

then try to come up with the title, plot, vibe, and details of a fic including whatever the generators gave you. you don’t actually have to write it, just put the concept into the world! this is basically just a thought experiment

for example, here’s mine:

The AU generator gave me: summer camp au 

The trope generator gave me: Your characters are neighbors and hold up notes in their windows across from each other to talk all the time and they're both developing huge crushes.

okay okay I GOT this 

title: i’ll beat your ass in the color war, red

- we got teenage!gallavich, i’m talking season one ian-still-has-freckles little gallavich 

- ian gets a scholarship to the camp via a raffle his school did for kids on the honor role. technically, lip got it, but he handed the voucher off to ian because he’s caught up with karen at the time and wants his brother to have a good summer. that’s why ian’s there. 

- mickey is put into foster care for one reason or another, something with terry, and his foster family sends him. that’s why he’s there. mandy’s around here somewhere, too. 

- all the cabins are really close together, but ian + mickey are placed separately. right next to each other, actually. ian and mickey both happened to take the low bunks next to the windows, which are facing each other. 

- ian recognizes mickey as someone from the south side, like him. he also befriends mandy early on, but he doesn’t really speak to mickey. 

- UNTIL! there’s a power outage on the camp grounds, knocking out the lights in all of the cabins. And Ian sees a flashlight in the window across from his when he’s trying to go to sleep. 

- with the chaos of everything, it doesn’t work, and a generator powers up some of the cabins. for safety reasons, they send those without power to sleepover in the cabins with power so that everyone’s together and warm and guess what?? mickey and ian end up together. sharing a bed because there aren’t enough.

- they bond, but their schedules don’t line up the most and they end up doing the notes-in-the-window thing every night while trying to sleep for a week. they also pass this old notebook back and forth, giving each other doodles and thoughts and questions through the pages. they talk about how weird the experience is, how different the kids are from southsiders. 

- then, they get to pick new classes at the beginning of the following week. for the first time since the power outage, mickey approaches him directly and they pick similar classes

- they keep using the notebook throughout the summer, writing down things that are too hard to say out loud like “you’re pretty, red” and “i think i really like you and i don’t know if that’s a good idea”

- they spend free time together in the field, mickey sitting there while his sister and ian make flower crowns. 

- they do other arts and crafts together. ian makes them matching ‘friendship bracelets’ and mickey claims to think that it’s stupid. but he wears it anyway, just to see him smile

- idk man you get a summer’s worth of them being cute but not actually dating. mickey causes some trouble, they end up kissing at the camp fire, some sneaking around is involved, there’s a color war (which is like, fun team-based games like capture the flag or huge water fights) where they’re on opposite teams, maybe a little pride event at some point since we’re in the summer time. generally just huge summer love vibes

- i imagine there’s some issues near the end of camp bc mickey likes what they have but he isn’t sure if it can continue when they go back to chicago, he only feels safe doing their whole thing bc they’re away from literally everyone they know.

- one possible ending is mickey telling ian how much he cares, but they have to wait until they’re older and he’s away from his dad for good/he’s more comfortable in his sexuality. BAM! possible timeskip sequel, bittersweet ending. the other ending is ian offering him a place in the gallagher home, BAM! domestic vibes, some found family, and it’s more happy. either one could work depending on what i want from the fic

alright alright i’m all done now. don’t feel pressured to try it if you don’t want to, but i’m gonna tag @creepkinginc @softmick @gardenerian @lupeloto and @this-is-estrelya​

[mythica0]

Im back with request mine mind was just... idk sleepy? Ok but ANYWAYYYY what if~~~~ Mikey used his paint brushes to tickle Leo beacuse he annoyed him while he was drawing or that leo ruined a art thing and mikey got his revange by tickling him( this took my 2 brainshells to work. Get it? Get it? Brainshells beacuse we talk here about turtles an- u know what nvm Bye bye no rush❤️❤️)

New Canvas

🎂:ROTTMNT

🧁: Leo

🍫:Mikey

Summary: Leo accidentally breaks the Canvas Mikey is using to paint. Mikey finds a substitute.

A/N: Pfft nice pun! Sorry this is late, I’ve been really busy this week, but the weekend is here and now I’ve got time! Thanks for the request and I hope you enjoy!

New canvas

Mikey was painting. Displaying his emotions and thoughts across a canvas as he so liked to do.

Leo was in the room as well, idly chatting with his little brother about nothing in particular.

It was a nice little moment of calm amidst the chaos of the turtles lives and antics, but it didn’t last long.

Eventually, Leo Slipped from where he was pacing and fell right into Mikey’s art piece, tearing the canvas and landing on top of the box shell onto the ground with a loud thud.

Mikey’s breath was knocked out of him for a moment as he pushed Leo off of him.

“Leo! You tore my canvas! It’s all ruined now..” Mikey’s tone was more sad and disappointed than angry.

Leo grimaced. “I’m so sorry little bro! It was an accident I swear!”

Mikey sighed. “I know, I guess I have to restart….” Mikey got a mischievous idea as he spoke.

“…And here’s my new Canvas!” He finished cheerfully as he picked Leo up with surprising ease.

“Wha-?!” Leo exclaimed as he was pinned to the floor, she’ll facing up and Mikey on his ankles.

Mikey quickly grabbed his paintbrush and stroked along Leo’s shell.

The slider quickly fell into laughter because of the tickly bristles being lightly applied on his shell.

The cold paint seemed to amplify the feeling as well.

“Mihihikehehey!”

“Hey, Leo, can you stop moving? Canvases don’t wiggle. Or laugh, for that matter.”

“Yohohohour tihihihicklihihing mehehe! Ohof cohohourse ihim lahahahahaughing!”

“No. I’m painting. Now shhh.” Mikey continued to tease as he moved the brush to the back of his older brother’s knees. He could go for the thighs, but he wanted to save those for later.

Leo’s laughter amplified quite a bit at the new location. That tickled so much! How could something so light be so maddening? Not that he really minded.

It didn’t take long for Mikey to decide it was time for the finale.

“Are you ready Leo?” He smirked with a cheery yet sinister voice.

Leo gulped. “Absolutely not.”

“Too bad!” Came the box turtles response as he dipped the brush again quickly and brushed all over the sliders thighs.

Leo’s laughs quickly escalated into loud cackles and the occasional wheeze. He was pounding his fist in the floor to at least try to make the feeling more bearable, but it wasn’t really helping.

Eventually, Mikey got up and took a picture of the results before helping Leo up.

Mikey handed Leo his phone with the picture open, “Here’s the result!”

It was really pretty, actually. A nice little waterfall surrounded by flowers. Leo smiled.

“At least the painting you tortured me for looks nice”

“You know you like it, don’t try to deny that!”

He had a fair point. Leo didn’t respond.

Mikey left the room for a moment and came back with a bucket and washcloth, and Leo could hear water sloshing in the bucket.

Mikey smirked a bit and lifted up the washcloth in his hands. “Ready for round two?”

Leo gulped a bit, but, oh well. He supposed he would have to deal with being a new canvas.

———THE END————————————————

[tsarinatorment]

TSATS was just. Bad. But there are parts I'm carefully picking out that I did like, for instance that Will is working on developing his photokinesis! Thought it was stupid until Apollo gushed over it, now he's not only taking pride in it but actively starting to test his limits. And... he can make (what are implied to be) Curses of Delos magically start to grow when he sings? That's such a dumb and useless power that Apollo would be completely thrilled over. I love that.

Hello, anon! "TSATS was just. Bad." is a very accurate summary. You didn't need to add the extra sentences and I was worried when the preview showed me that "But-"

But then I read the rest of the ask and [throws aside a large rock] actually I'm not mad at you, because I am actually doing a similar thing. There are some very small details that can be lifted out from this otherwise rubbish tip and repurposed for better use, and Will's photokinesis powerup is certainly one of those!

The "Care Bear" thing is a bit cringey - initially I appreciated the description, because I have fond memories of watching a Care Bears VHS in my childhood and could visualise what Mark was trying to describe there (unlike some younger friends who I had to find old gifs for to show them), but then I did some digging and realised that Care Bears has now been swallowed up by the behemoth that is Disney+ and therefore that this was actually some badly shoved-in marketing, which, urgh. Don't do that. However, I do like that Will has now, effectively, weaponised it (or is in the process of trying to).

You're right that it's a great continuation on from what started in TON - where Will has gone from embarrassment over it, to being proud of it, to actively working on it to see what he can actually do with it, which could well have been inspired by Apollo in TON himself, when he strips Nero's divinity and shatters his fasces. That concept is absolutely fantastic (although we could have done with a better, less cheesy, application; the implication of it being his heart's light is neat but it shooting out of his chest with no real direction like he's got a random inbuilt laser beam there is certainly not where I'd have taken that, personally...) and best of all - it's conceivably tied in to TON already so it's a detail that makes sense even without TSATS and can therefore be utilised without actually having to acknowledge TSATS as canon (win-win!)

On the flip side, the Curse of Delos thing is a little much, imo. I love powerful!Will but he's still got to stay within the constraints of being a demigod, for me (yes, I do believe that if he chose it, Will could ascend to godhood and would deserve it; I also believe he would never choose that). Curse of Delos is explicitly stated to only grow on Delos and around Cabin Seven - Apollo's two most sacred places. There's no way Will, a mere demigod, could literally consecrate ground in his father's name like that. At a stretch, we could say that this scene is actually Apollo hearing Will's hymn (given that it's stated to be one of his healing hymns) and... idk, growing him some flowers as some sort of message? But then that begs the question of where the fuck is Apollo in this story and why is all he's doing, growing flowers when Will sings? It also just doesn't fit Will's general theme, because while in theory yes, music could make flowers grow (especially if sung by a child of Apollo or Demeter), Will is also not a musician. He's very explicit about that back in BOO, so he, of all Apollo kids, being the one to summon flowers when he sings? Doesn't actually track. Give that power to Austin when he's playing the sax or something.

Yes, there are some very small details in TSATS that are worth not discarding (although almost all of them still need reworking, so really I should say concepts that are worth not discarding), but there's not many of them...