#maple trees my beloved

[foldingfittedsheets]

For some reason every time I see that post about your allergies my brain wants to interpret you testing positive for one tree as if it means you're part tree. And I guess two parts weeds? I don't know what's going on with my brain, I just work here.

I went and found my allergy sheet and did math for you about this. (This is my plant percentage, I don't want to be any parts mold or cockroach)

I'm 1/8th tree (maple), 1/4th grass(Johnson, Timothy), and 5/8th weed (pigweed, thistle, sheep sorrel, nettle and ragweed).

[iron-sparrow]

Elftober 【第九天】 Autumn 🍁

ELFTOBER PROMPT LIST

[vixlenxe]

Minor character tags pt. 1/2

[arisharkboi]

Love being awake at 3:20 am for no reason, eating leftover clearance rack easter chocolate and sending my friend barely coherent rants about why the best tree ever is the sugar maple and why sugar maples are all my best friends, sworn sisters, guardian angels, lovers, role models, etc etc, so on and so forth

[heartinhyacinth]

Listen, I love the idea of Hua Cheng finally getting to propose to his beloved special someone after 800 long-awaited years (and correct his previous blunder haha), but hear me out…

After Hua Cheng’s year of absence, hualian reunite, spend some blissful days soaking up each other’s company at the small cottage Xie Lian built on mount taicang, then decide to take a trip to ghost city. They could use the dice, of course, but it’s such a nice autumn day and days as such have become dear to them.

They’re snugged up close in the step-litter when Xie Lian casually asks, “San Lang, wanna get married?” He wears his usual gentle smile—the one he would use as if he were asking if Hua Cheng was feeling hungry or if he’d like to take a stroll through the maple trees.

But there is also the unmissable twinkle of amusement that is present, which Hua Cheng uses to convince himself that Xie Lian is in a silly mood and surely this is just payback—Xie Lian will confirm it any second now. But it doesn’t come. Five seconds, ten, fifteen, and the confirmation does not come.

So Hua Cheng simply sits there, expression bordering between pure terror and pure ecstasy as he tries to dissect the situation for any sign of its true reality. With breathy giggles, Xie Lian finally has mercy on the poor ghost, “You don’t have to say yes, San Lang—I can take it.” Despite his words, it’s exceedingly obvious by the humor in his tone that they’re both aware heaven and earth would sooner turn to dust, and with that, Hua Cheng finally regains control of his brain. “It would…” he takes a deep breath, nearly a millennia of longing crowding his throat all at once, “It would be my greatest honor, your highness”. Xie Lian’s smile brightens and he takes Hua Cheng’s hands in his own, “good—because no more dying, okay?”

The idea of Hua Cheng’s heart and soul asking him to spend their existence together—of Xie Lian affirming that he chooses Hua Cheng and wants him as his beloved forever and always, wants to walk by his side till the end—it’s just…too much to handle. (Him saying yes to Hua Cheng’s proposal would also achieve this but you get the idea).

Bonus: Hua Cheng fully planned to ask him during that same trip but Xie Lian beat him to it

[doumadono]

CONGRATULATIONS !!! Could I please get a cup of vanilla ice cream with maple syrup, preferably for Neuvilette or Wrio or Itto? (I'll take whatever you're offering, your writing is flawless!)

A/N: thank you, dear Nonnie! You're so sweet! Since you didn't specify the plot, I decided to create a few short sweet scenes with the boys

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

Wriothesley

Wriothesley found himself at a loss for words one dreary afternoon as he sat in his study, surrounded by stacks of parchment and ink-stained quills. Lost in thought, he was startled by the soft sound of your footsteps approaching.

"Wrio, darling, are you alright?" you asked, your voice filled with concern as you gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

The man sighed, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of vulnerability. "I fear I won't finish signing all these documents today, my dear. Try as I might, I cannot seem to finish this task that our beloved Neuvilette bestowed upon me."

Your eyes softened with understanding as you took a seat on his comfortable lap, your presence a comforting balm to his troubled soul. "Perhaps you simply need a gentle nudge in the right direction," you suggested with a tender smile. "If I were in your shoes, I'd suggest beginning with the lengthiest documents you have to sift through."

And so, with your encouragement, Wriothesely found himself immersed in a flurry of his stint, his quill dancing across the parchment. As the signatures flowed effortlessly from his pen, Wriothesley realized that his greatest muse that always helped him stayed focused had been by his side all along. As you settled into the comfortable embrace of his lap, his spare hand tenderly tracing the curve of your waist, he found himself consumed by thoughts of his deep affection for you. It wasn't merely your physical beauty that captivated him, but also the profound wisdom that emanated from your mind, weaving an irresistible charm that bound him to you completely.

Itto

Arataki found himself in an unexpected predicament one sunny afternoon. Amidst the chaos of his usual training routine, he stumbled upon a delicate sakura tree in full bloom. Entranced by its beauty, he couldn't help but admire it, his rough hands reaching out to caress the soft petals.

"Hey, Itto! What are you doing over there?" you called out, a spirited warrior with a heart of gold.

Itto turned, a bashful grin spreading across his rugged features. "Ah, just admiring this sakura tree. Reminds me of you, y'know? Beautiful and strong."

Your eyes sparkled with amusement as you approached, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. "You big softie," you teased, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Come on, let's enjoy the blossoms together."

And so, amidst the fluttering petals and gentle breeze, Itto and you spent the afternoon basking in each other's company, your laughter echoing through the tranquil grove.

Neuvilette

The Iudex, the suave and sophisticated man, found himself in a rather peculiar situation one evening as he strolled through the lush gardens of his estate. As he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with you, his girlfriend, a radiant beauty with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes.

"Ah, there you are, my dear," Neuvilette said with a charming smile. "I've been looking for you."

You giggled, a playful glint in your gaze. "I was hoping to steal a moment alone with you, away from the prying eyes of society."

Neuvilette's heart skipped a beat as he took your delicate hand in his own. "My dear, you need only ask, and I would gladly whisk you away to the ends of the earth."

With a soft laugh, you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear. "Then how about we start with a romantic stroll under the moonlit sky?"

And so, hand in hand, Neuvilette and you wandered through the gardens, your laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves as you savored the magic of the night.

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Sukuna’s Wife and Yuuji’s Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) Part 3

TW: pregnancies, miscarriages/spontaneous abortions, and other mature themes ahead

Sukuna can still remember your suppressed whimpers when you believed that he was asleep, how your weight would go up and down every few weeks, and how nothing would interest you, not your foreign books or drawings or koto. No matter how many times you two tried or how faithfully you listened to the advice of your doctors and shamans, children were a faraway dream. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…What’s wrong with me?” You used to cry.

“Nothing,” he always answered, rubbing circles on your back. “Nothing is wrong with you.”

You never seemed to hear him. Sukuna would tirelessly comfort you while reassuring you that spending eternity with only you was his idea of a happy life. However, his words fell on deaf ears. You would always hope, and every single time, your hope would get crushed.

Until you discovered yourself pregnant again for three months. The past pregnancies never lasted for more than a few weeks. Sukuna didn’t want you to hope too much, but how could he resist the brilliant smile of his beloved wife?

He accompanied you to every shop for toys and fabrics and clothes and furniture. He patiently gave his opinions on what the baby’s room should be like. 

You successfully carried to term, your belly round with a healthy child. Sukuna had to admit that it was not an unattractive sight, and despite the protests of the midwives, he stayed by your side, dabbing the sweat from your face and neck as you delivered your precious child. Uraume waited outside with a whole parade of maidservants prepared to help you get washed once everything was over. The cotton blanket which would envelope your baby was washed three times. You wove it yourself, pestering your husband to embroider enchantments for protection and a long, healthy life.

However, as you fell back after giving your final push, you instantly sensed that something was wrong. You had silently turned to your husband. “Ryo?” His head was hanging, unable to meet your gaze. He didn’t need to say anything.

You stopped being you that day.

The Sukuna household, which used to be so full of life and music and cheer, was enveloped in darkness. The one and only madam of the house was given a taste of motherhood like she always prayed, but she was never even able to hear her child’s cry let alone hold them. You stopped leaving the main house. You refused to go down the village to browse for any new foreign products. The maple trees you adored were ignored and the garden you personally tended would have wilted completely if not for Ryomen’s intervention.

You slept on the floor right next to an empty cradle. 

You would have died there too if your husband couldn’t take it and spent three straight days pleading for you to try and go out.

“A merchant passed by and Uraume bought several flowers from him,” he said, trying to make conversation as he eased you into the garden. “I think you’d like them. One species even eats flies.”

It was then, Sukuna recalled, when the two of you heard it.

An inhuman sound came from the bushes.

You hurried to investigate, with Sukuna warily following.

“Oh!” You gasped.

“What is it? Are you hurt?”

As if you hadn’t heard him, you dug into the shrubbery. “Here you are.”

“My love, be careful–”

“Naughty, naughty, you made us worried.” You rose to your feet and started cradling… something. 

Sukuna called your name. He didn’t sense any malicious intent right now but he couldn’t risk you getting hurt.

You turned around. “Ryo-chan, I found him.”

The maids knew better than to show their emotions, but their mouths tingled with the desire to gasp and talk amongst themselves.

Sukuna whispered your name and you walked towards him, arms protectively wrapped around a black-striped overgrown cat. You carried it like one would a newborn. 

You made a fake angry expression at the stupid cat as you scolded it:

“Yuji–” that was the name you and Sukuna agreed on while you were eight months pregnant “–you can’t just disappear without asking permission. You made your father and I worried!”

The cat made a sound that could only be described to be close to a purr, but not quite a purr. 

You giggled and nuzzled its nose. “How can I stay mad at you?”

Sukuna watched as you continued to baby the odd-looking cat. You were the happiest he’s seen you in weeks. He missed your smile.

He no longer cared that it was some stray from some traveling merchant. He didn’t care if the damn thing was eating way too much and growing a hella lot for a simple cat. All that mattered was that you were happy. No servant was allowed to treat your behavior as anything but normal. No one was allowed to even try to destroy the illusion. 

There were times when Sukuna swore he could see clarity in your eyes, when you would watch the sleeping “infant” or when you thought you were alone. A part of you must’ve known.

But because you never stopped treating “Yuji” as your beloved child, he never brought it up.

You were eating, you were smiling. You were happy. That was enough for him.

Though admittedly, he hated the little twerp. 

Not only did “Yuji” get spoonfed and burped personally by the madam of the Sukuna household, you also bathed him, dried and brushed his fur, and let the thing sleep between the two of you. 

It was so annoying.

He couldn’t even embrace his own wife anymore.

Now, over a thousand years later, he still had to share his darling wife with this damn brat.

Part 4: An immediate continuation of this chapter

@laurcad123 @aidanstan @deepinballs @satosuguswife

[lailoken]

No too long ago, I was able to visit the small lake town my mother grew up in for the first time. It was a really lovely trip that included a number of particularly special experiences, which included locating the burial plot for the ancestral line I most directly associate with my hereditary magical practices.

Beyond the awe of being with these beloved dead so presently for the first time, I was also really amazed and humbled to see the botanical company they kept. Along with Lily of the Valley growing amidst their graves, the Family Stone was directly beneath a gigantic old Maple Tree with a perfect hollow for leaving offerings.

What's more, however, the grave plot was directly triangulated by three very special trees.

At one "point" of the triangle resides one of the most massive Birch trees I've ever encountered. I genuinely didn't even think they got this big as singular trunks (I've included a picture of my very tall and broad husband standing next to it for reference). Birch is also my mother's Patron Tree, and so it has always had a special place in my heart.

At another "point" of the triangle is an absolutely enormous Copper Beech Tree. If the sheer majesty and beauty of this tree wasn't already enough, there's also the fact that Beech trees have taken up a role of greater importance in my practice, due to syncretic ties I have built with Saint Joan of Arc in my Faerie Physic work over the last year.

At the final "point" of the triangle, I was most blown away to discover a "Flying Rowan" growing from the crevice of an old Maple. In traditional anglo-celtic folklore, a Rowan tree that has managed to take root and grow successfully without actually being in the ground—such as a sapling that grows from the face of a boulder or the nook of an established tree—is often called a Flying Rowan. I learned, growing up, that said Rowan trees are potent sources of magic, as well as marking areas that are sacred to the Fae. As such, finding one so close to my ancestral burial plot felt extremely meaningful and auspicious. I was even lucky enough to find a couple handfuls of fallen berries that I took back home with me.

Being able to visit and propitiate the graves of my progenitors and their loved ones was a deeply sacred act for me, and I feel blessed that I can bear witness to the beauty and peace of their resting place.

[homocidalpotat]

100 followers milestone!

First off, I want to thank everyone who has got me to this number! I really appreciate every one of you and I'm glad I have created a blog that not only I enjoy, but all of you can too :3

As a celebration of my 100+ beloved followers, I'm making an ask game! I will separate it into two sections- followers and mutuals. If you follow me, you can send me an ask with some of the options in the follower section. If you're a mutual of mine, you can send me an ask from both sections. You can send me as many asks as you want.

I've themed it on European forests, with followers getting object and plant themes and mutuals getting animals.

Followers

Tree bark: I will give you a compliment

Fly agaric: Just get to know me a little bit! You can ask what my favourite colour is or something, tame questions like that

Pinecone: Assign me to a disney character

Maple leaf: I will pick a sweet treat to virtually give you that I think you'd like

Chicken of the woods: I will tell you whatever I'm thinking of at the time I respond to your ask

Tree sap: Recommend a fandom for me to get stuck into

Oak leaf: I will assign a totally random, off-the-top-of-my-head historical figure to you

Moss: I will tell you something reassuring

Pine needle: Give me some constructive criticism on anything

Mutuals

Red-crested woodpecker: We can chat/shout/hc/etc about a shared interest

Great tit: I will tell you an embarrassing story

Fox: Ask me a random question about me (if I don't feel comfortable asking, you can always ask me a different question)

Rabbit: I will send you a picture of Toby or one of my rabbits (Snuggles and Peter)

Squirrel: I will give you a random fact

Song thrush: I will assign a song to you that I think you will like/will fit your vibe. This might end up as me recommending a random song from my playlist...

Roe deer: I will make you a moodboard

Barn owl: I will show you a picture of something cool in my hoarde of stuff

Badger: Play a word game with me (20 questions, word association, etc)

Hedgehog: Give me a headcanon about me

Frog: I will give you a headcanon about you

BONUS FOR MUTUALS I INTERACT WITH A LOT

Nymph: I will plan out a day spent with you! (Or longer, you can specify) (e.g. we go to the mall and then we go to KFC or something)

(Credit to @strangergraphics and @saradika-graphics for the dividers)

Tagging my mutuals: @almosthumanjessi @animal-lover-forever @anglptera @anything-for-my-moony-1971 @bleep-bloop-boo @calypso10191 @chaoticgremlin-1 @cheekyboybeth (btw, thanks for helping me with setting this up, mum!) @dandelionflowery @dracosleftarsecheek @green-001 @here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can @i-eat-so-much-grass @klondyke-the-bear @legaltrashgoblin @lemmeeatacrylicpaint @littlegayduck @maryland-officially @monarchofthequeerpotatoes @mushroom-music @nanochittle @names-confuse-me (love u ducky x) @nyx-taylors-version @onceinalifetimexperiencebuttwice @osmoticneuron @potato276 @ravenwordss @saintperseus @savj2003 @schistostegapennata @sentientballofpeas @silentprincessofhyrule @someone-kill-the-ej @that-dam-heartstopper-fan @touslin @thecrazyalchemist @theetherealraphael @unstableunicornsofasgard @uhmmmmaixllezhere @yourlocalbadgerscales @2xhbergggg @26mayflowers

LINK TO MAIN INTRO POST HERE!!!!

[rederiswrites]

Went for a walk around the big field. Twin goals of getting exercise and seeing cool things were very at odds, as I didn't move fast enough to get my lungs working until the last leg back through the field.

First things first, gotta say hello to Kratos the Soay ram. Hello my beloved butthead.

Beautiful as always.

Next stop is the "park"; the stand of mature trees next to the pond. Picnic benches and stones dot the area, and the ground is liberally sprinkled with hickory nut husks from the shagbark hickories. Here, somebody had been making use of a stone to get their dinner.

Some sights in the woods:

If this place has a guardian spirit, it lives in this maple:

Maple too big for this post! Hang on.

[subskz]

hi ms. rin!! long time no see ☺️

i was always reading your works & all your amazing posts but i realize today it was a long time since i sent an ask >< i hope you’re doing great!

i wanted to ask if you’re still writing the childhood friends to lovers with lee know? ever since butterfly bandage i was craving to read another longfic from you cause you write so beautifully :< & with minho being my bias i think i’ll die if you make a story for him..! not to pressure you of course 💕

-🧸

hello hello omg it really has been a while!! it’s so nice to see you again my dear i hope you’ve been doing well and taking care since we last spoke ♡

you’re too kind thank u so much for your lovely words!! it’s so sweet that u even remember i was writing that lino fic i’m really glad you’re looking forward to it 😭 it’s still very much a wip so i’m not exactly sure when it’ll be out, but i work on it all the time! here’s a few lil sneak peeks just for u hehe

also please note that a lot of this is subject to change since i’m still working on it 😽 these snippets are still a bit barebones

ᓚᘏᗢ — snippet 1

You stared at the crumpled nest; abandoned, with what was left of it quickly being carried away by the wind. Straw by straw. You felt like crying.

Don’t be so sensitive. You told yourself. It's just a stupid bird.

“Wow,” a familiar voice, soft and brusque and not sounding very wowed at all, came from behind you. “That’s amazing, isn’t it?”

You lifted your head, whipping around to find its source. Not that you really needed to, anyway. You knew that voice better than your own, by now.

“Huh?”

“They were just babies, but they already flew away.” Minho crouched down next to you to examine the remains of the fallen nest. His small fingers brushed over it, so delicately that the grass barely shifted under his touch. “Like they know exactly where they’re supposed to go.”

You rested your hands on your knees, unconvinced, refusing to look at him. Your eyes were stinging. You didn’t want him to think you were dramatic. You didn’t want him to make fun of you. He’d put just as much care into looking after them, if not more. He’d stayed with them even longer than you had. How could he be so accepting of it?

“Birds are so cool,” he continued. A gentle breeze ruffled your hair, like it was summoned by his airy lilt. “They can go wherever they want.”

“Why do they have to go?” you muttered.

“Cause the world’s so big, dummy,” he said it like common knowledge, like he’d consulted the birds himself. “And they’re so small. So they gotta start seeing it early before they die.”

You puffed out a half-hearted laugh.

“You’re like a bird,” you decided.

“Mm?”

“You do what you wanna and go where you wanna.”

“I can’t be a bird,” Minho sniffed. “They fly too high. I'm more like a cat, ‘cause no matter where they go, they always know how to find their way home.”

“Like Soonie,” you said.

“Like Soonie,” he agreed. “Remember when he was gone for three days? But then he showed up again like nothing happened?”

“You cried a lot,” you giggled.

Minho huffed, looking away. “I knew he’d come back.” 

It had been one of the only times you’d ever seen him cry in your four years of friendship. He might’ve completely denied crying altogether if the subject were anything other than his beloved cat. His little brother.

“So you’ll always come back, too? Like Soonie?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I'm gonna be here ‘til I'm at least 100, or else someone will take our spot under the maple tree.”

ᓚᘏᗢ — snippet 2

Minho’s hand reached for yours. It was shaking.

“If you're scared, I can stay with you,” he offered. You could tell he was trying to sound casual, but there was an undeniable tremor there. Not breezy, not carefree; thick and heavy with apprehension. It weighed down your conscience. “It’ll be embarrassing if you’re the only one in class left behind, right?”

You remembered how he’d reacted when you traveled up to the mountains last summer, how he’d turned away from the window when the car drove along the edge of the road, with nothing but a flimsy, rusting metal barrier standing between you and several thousand foot fall. You remembered how much trouble he’d had walking straight when you first arrived at the campsite, strangely quiet, muttering to himself about how high up it was. It was too high, the air was too thin, the world was too far away. 

Those were the issues, of course. The issue certainly wasn’t that he was terrified out of his mind. A cat stuck in a tree, longing to accept help without sacrificing his pride. Unsure whether to hiss at whoever came near, or leap into their arms. He’d grabbed your hand the exact same way, back then. 

“Okay,” you replied.

He perked up, features flashing with a hopefulness that was almost enough to break your facade. 

“Hm?”

It would’ve been so easy in that moment, to tease him. To call him out, gain the upper hand on him for once in six years. But looking at those eyes—round and bright and gleaming under his glasses with an innocence that effectively wiped away every annoying thing he’d ever done from your memory, you just couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Let’s skip the rollercoaster,” you said plainly. “I’m scared.”

You weren’t, strangely enough. You wondered if Minho knew that. Of the two of you, he was undoubtedly the risk taker. His mind was too capricious to not explore every possibility there was, to not absorb everything the world had to offer until he found himself in it. It was almost exhilarating for you, to be the adventurous one, for a change. To be the one who didn’t hold yourself back.

You wanted to be bold. You wanted to be fearless. You wanted to impress him. 

But more than any of that, you wanted to stay with him. You didn’t want him to sit alone on the amusement park bench, watching his classmates have fun without him as he fumbled with the wrapping of a snack he couldn’t eat, because the anxiety had made his stomach hurt. 

“Seriously,” his grin was weak, but as he laced your fingers together properly, you could feel the quiver in his hand begin to calm. “What would you do without me?”

You simply grunted, allowing him to tug you along to the bench. You didn’t want to think about it. It was playful, not really seeking a response, but that didn’t stop his question from lingering in the back of your mind. Like a part of you knew that, sooner or later, you’d have no choice but to find the answer.

[lonesomebigmike]

I wish for that night with you

Crickets and a dead city

Grass and a picnic table

Tickets to my anxious, then witty

Managing of my breath

Managing your exasperation

I was only as good as I could make me

But good enough for you to take me

And better than we were

A maple leaf fallen, an oak seed sown

Old bark broken, and a new tree grown

I don't think the crickets minded our song

Even the insects knew of the wrong

That would be anything different than this

Thank you, beloved, for that nights kiss

[yurigalactica]

Her Name

Beneath a blanket of laurel and viridian she lies, Tucked among the roots and ivy. The forest holds her in an embrace of thistles and thorns, Bones of ossified birch, knees sunk into dirt.

Her ghost likes to follow me around, A youthful skip in her gait. She is much more vibrant than I, Eyes azure and gleaming As she darts through the tree line and gleefully squeals "Last one there is a rotten egg."

It's not uncommon for people to see her in me, Or rather, her instead of me. Grown-ups often chuckle and sigh, sugar sweet smiles on their lips, And chitter amongst themselves about how oh-so precocious she is.

Will they ever see me?

She and I are one in the same, people tell me. We have the same smile, same hair, same face. She is all I have ever been and all I ever will be. Anything I think or say or do, no matter how original, She has done it first.

Her name is what people know me by.  It sticks to my skin like maple sap, Burrows itself deeper like a malignant little tick. While it once tasted like wildflowers and pine needles, Now, it is no more than a withered husk That tastes of ash on my tongue.

I do not hate her.

How can I?

She is pure and free and bright, A beam of sunlight born in the burning summer sky. My history is hers, and hers is mine, Identical spirals of cambium etched into the flesh of our arms. When I look into weathered polaroid photographs, Streaked yellow and pink from bygone years, I see her round, youthful face, Lips quirked upward and beaming at the camera.

Her smile is beautiful.

I hold her closely, I carry her on my back. Her arms are looped around my shoulders And her messy caramel curls fall over mine. She clings to me like a moth to a lamp, Sinks her ivory birch roots into my bones, Entwines herself with me. She is a part of me.

But I am not her.

I am alive and she is no more than a memory. Yet when the world speaks to me they call upon her name. When I do not answer, they do not understand why. When I drag them after me, through the woods and to her grave, And show them the brambles growing in her lungs And the sunflowers blooming in her throat, They tell me that she is merely sleeping. For how could a dead thing Bloom so bright?

So I hack off those beloved curls under the cover of the night And stain them the same color as the dawn. If I am ever to become more than the person who wears her face, I must bloom brighter than her corpse. If not an act of rebellion, then call it a desperate plea For someone to softly cup my cheek and, for once, see me.

I am not the little girl with the sunlit smile, But I once was, years ago. It is a fact that is as immutable as death, A law as eternal as life. And though I still carry her in my arms, I am older and wiser now And she will remain forever a child.

We are not the same person. Not anymore. And someday, I hope, the world will look upon us, See our fingers entwined like morning glory vines, And call upon not her,

But me.

[hayleythecannibal]

Twisted Minds: Act II- Chapter Twenty-two Shiizakana

TW: Crime scenes, Gore, Implied Death, Death, Attempted Murder, Cannibalism, Guns, Animal Death, Mental Heath,

Warning this is Fem!reader. You can also find this on Wattpad and A03 under the name @HayleyMarieOfficial. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @punkin-time @miaowkitty @gabriella-aesthetic @urlocalfanficwriter @dilfdemolisher

Twisted Minds Masterlist

In the solitude of the snowbound woods,  WILL GRAHAM Standing, his breath coming in frosted clouds. He stands above a rope loosely coiled on the ground. We follow it to – HANNIBAL LECTER Standing in the snow, tied securely to the base of a maple tree. The rope is looped around his throat, pulling his head tight to the tree, and then continues in multiple turns around his torso before leading back to Will.

“Which answer is it you want to hear, Will?”

“What’s happening now and about to happen is an answer. I want an admission. Admit what you are.”

“Must I denounce myself as a monster while you still refuse to see the one growing inside you?”

Not the answer Will wants. He WHISTLES and the rope begins to uncoil until it SNAPS taut, three feet off the ground. The rope goes taut and, with it, the coils around Hannibal CREAK

as they tighten, slowly rolling round him like a python's coils, until finally the rope tightens on his throat. Will turns and now we see the rope leads several feet to – THE BLACK STAG Facing away from Hannibal, leaning, but not pulling, waiting docilely for direction.

He strains against the squeeze, catching his breath. “Why not appeal to my better nature?”

“I wasn't aware you had one.”

“No one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them. By that love we see potential in our beloved. Through that love we allow our beloved to see their potential. Expressing that love, our beloved's potential comes true. I love you, Will.”

Will has heard enough. He WHISTLES again, shrill and loud. The black stag starts trudging forward. VEINS bulge in Hannibal's forehead, but he doesn't cry out or protest. His eyes never waver from Will's.

“I once promised you a reckoning.” Will arrives at the tree, face to face, not with Hannibal, but --

THE WENDIGO Its eyes stare… HOOVES Clop ahead… THE WENDIGO is Unblinking. Soulless. WILL GRAHAM Stares back, not frightened. Undeterred. “Here it is.”

To which the Hannibal/Wendigo is tied, a final CREAK of rope and PFFT -- an unexpectedly-huge FAN OF BLOOD erupts from the hidden side of the tree.

WILL GRAHAM'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT -

Will awakens, Y/N Beside him, calmly opening his eyes to stare into middle

distance. No solace comes from Hannibal's dream death. Will is sweat-soaked. The dream still real and present.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - NIGHT-

Will sits in the chair across from Hannibal, mid-session. “Do you have any regrets?” Hannibal observes the man in front of him. “With every choice lies the possibility of regret. However, if I choose not to do something, it's usually for a good reason.”

“I'm riddled with regrets.” 

“A life without regret would be no life at all.” Hannibal says insightfully. “I regret what I did in the stables.”

“Then you were lucky Y/N and I were there.”

“Being lucky isn't the same as making a mistake. Allowing you both to stop me was a mistake.” As much as Will loves Y/N the urge to kill itches the back of his skull. Little did he know it scratched hers too.  “Then it's not your actions that you regret. It's the lack there of.”

“That would be more accurate.”

“Did you make that decision on the basis of anticipating the regret you would feel taking another life?”

“Yes.”

“Anticipating regret commonly results in dubious decisions. You must adapt your behavior to

avoid feeling the same way again.” Will adjusts in his seat. “Adapt. Evolve. Become.”

“I want you to close your eyes, Will, and imagine a version of events you wouldn't have regretted.” Will closes his eyes. When he opens them, we are --

ANIMAL RESCUE - LARGE-ANIMAL BARN - NIGHT-

Will stands holding his gun on Clark Ingram. A SERIES OF QUICK SHOTS: A BULLET ROTATES into the chamber. The TRIGGER is SQUEEZED. The HAMMER SLAMS FORWARD. The BARREL EXPLODES. His head SNAPS BACK, blood spraying as bullet exits skull.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - NIGHT-

Will sits opposite Hannibal, as before. He opens his eyes. “What did you see?”

“A missed opportunity. To feel like I felt when I killed Garret Jacob Hobbs. To feel like I felt when I thought I killed you.” Will admits, no emotion emmiting from his expression but pure honesty. 

“And what does that feel like, Will? Excitement bumping in your chest like a cold medallion?”

“I felt a quiet sense of power.” Hannibal studies Will for a brief moment, then: “Good. Remember that feeling.”

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - NIGHT-

Will exits Hannibal's office building, his head down, heavy in thought. As Margot approaches: smiles and it's lovely “I tend to walk out of this building in a similar state. You must be a patient of Dr. Lecter's.”

Will nods. Goes to walk away. Aware Margot is now looking at him intensely. Will knows what is coming and wants to avoid it. “Are you famous or are we friendly?”

“I'm sorry?” Will’s Brows furrow. “You look familiar. Either I know you or I know of you.”

“I'm the guy who didn't kill all those people.” Will moves off leaving Margot considering who it was she crossed paths with just now.

REST STOP - DAY-

Bloodied and sprawled on his back across the cab roof, his head hanging over its edge, throat ripped open. Blood and innards emanate like the spokes of a bicycle wheel. find ZELLER and PRICE atop platforms on either side, inspecting the truck cab roof and the body, respectively. Jimmy takes photos. Zeller inspects the near-empty torso. “No guts, no glory.”

“There Are guts. They're over there.” Jack flanked by Will Graham and Dr. Lecter. Followed By Y/N. “It snowed all night. There are no tracks. You sure it was an animal?” Will asks uncertainly.

“Severance of the jugular and carotids, esophagus destroyed. The bite almost severed his head.” Zeller makes a point. “Evisceration was performed by large, non-retractable claws, so we're looking at a wolf or a bear.” Jimmy says as he tilts his head. 

“Whatever it was, it wasn't afraid of humans. Not anymore.” Will eyes the corpse-icle on the cab of the truck. “Wolves and bears don't eat where they kill. They would've dragged him off.”  I say as i study the body from where i stand. 

“Unless it went mad. A rabid animal attacks its victims at random and doesn't eat any part of them.” Hannibal says with curiousity.  Zeller's gaze darts from the body to the organs spread

around, the torn flesh. “There was no eating here. We found just about everything. Viscera was exposed, belly was laid open, but no sign of gnawing or rutting.”

“Found the same wound patterns on recent livestock mutilations in the area. Evisceration, dismemberment, yet everything accounted for.” Jimmy points out. 

“Since when does the FBI get involved in animal attacks, Jack?” My head Tilts in confusion as i turn to jack. “When somebody's holding the leash of whatever's doing the attacking.” Jack states. I take a deep breath. Well that ones new. 

“The livestock mutilations... that was practice.” Will says in thought next to me. Jack nods. “He's going to kill again and he's going to get better at it.” “He's urbanizing his animal – moving closer to the city, adapting it to bigger prey.”

“He's not denying its natural instincts, he's evolving them.” Jack studies Will and Hannibal's exchange, then adds: “It's blood sport.”

MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY – DINOSAUR ROOM - DAY-

Held delicately in a MAN'S FINGERTIPS. RANDALL TIER fitting the tooth into a sabertooth cat skeleton He's re-articulating. He's bright-eyed and engaged with the predator he's honoring with restoration. He senses a presence in the room and glances behind him. “Museum's closed.” HANNIBAL LECTER Standing in half-shadow. Randall is caught off guard, but he covers quickly and manages a half smile.

“Hello, Randall.” Randall Tier is surprised by his visitor. “Dr. Lecter.”

Hannibal steps out of the shadows. Fossilized bones of all sizes are arranged on display. Hannibal takes them in, his gaze landing on Randall's sabertooth skull. “You'll always be ruled by your fascination with teeth.”

“That's what you said to me when they brought me into your office the very first time.”  Hannibal tilts his head slightly. “Is that what I said?”

“I was crying, dreading telling you what was wrong with me. You made it easy then, and other visits, too.” Tier states as he recalls the memory. “Do you remember what I told you, Randall? If you try, you can remember everything we ever said.”

“You said you felt like you peeked in my ear and could see what I am.” Hannibal draws closer, almost fatherly. “A therapist's life is equal parts counsel and curiosity. We set a patient on a path, but are left to wonder where that path takes them. You've come so very far, Randall.”

“A long time since you treated me.”

“Which is why I wanted to talk to you about your wonderful progress, just for a moment, privately. I've seen what you've done.” Tier tilts his head. “What have I done?

“You bore screams as a sculptor bears dust from the beaten stone. That crying boy doesn't cling to you anymore. What clings to you now? What clings to your teeth?”

“Ragged bits of scalp trailing their tails of hair like comets.”

“Beautiful. They're looking for you.” quiet voiced ”I don't think I can stop.”

“I don't want you to. They're going to find you, Randall. When they do, it's important that you do exactly what I say.” OFF Randall Tier and a response he never expected to hear.

BEACH - DAY-

THE BONFIRE Has been reduced to ash. Around its black smudge, AGENTS process the scene. Zeller confers with Jack over the forensics of the slaughter. Will consults the POLICE REPORT in his hand and walks the periphery of the scene. I look from one dead body, past it to the trees where the attacker hid, lying in wait. I look down the beach to where MORE AGENTS work another body.

Who breathes deep and exhales. He closes his eyes. We hear the slow THUD of his heartbeat. The AMBIENT HUM of his CIRCULATORY SYSTEM. A PENDULUM Swings in the darkness of Will Graham's mind, keeping rhythm with his heartbeat. FWUM. FWUM.

Eyes still closed, the PENDULUM swings behind him. FWUM. Jack, Y/N and the BAU agents are gone. FWUM. THE DEAD FIRE ASH SMOLDERS and GLOWS and FLAMES sprout and grow larger. Daylight FADES FAST, replaced by pitch-black night. FWUM. The YOUNG COUPLE reappear around the flames, alive and talking. The scene has been decriminalized in Will Graham's head and the previous night restored.

He watches the young couple standing near the bonfire, cuddled. As CAMERA PULLS BACK, reveal the BLACK STAG stepping out of the shadows behind Will. Together, Will and his black stag watch the couple on the beach. The man stops, glancing their direction from around

the bonfire. He takes the woman's hand and looks closer. A moment, then: “Kill.”

The black stag charges across the beach. BAM. The black stag HITS the man, hard, his hand snatched out of the woman's hand, violently driving him into the

ground in a vicious POUNCE. Goose down EXPLODES from his coat and his torso is slashed again. The woman SCREAMS. They SLASH THROUGH FRAME, cutting off the woman's 

Warm blood SPRAYS across snow, melting it in crimson streaks. Warm blood SPRAYS into the fire, SIZZLING.

they're attached to Will who is covered with blood -- as it was his antlers that just tore out the woman's throat. He looks down at her dead body, his EYES BLACK. The antlers are RECEDING into his body. He blinks and his EYES RETURN TO NORMAL. Night becomes day. 

BEACH - DAY-

Will opens his eyes and Y/N and Jack nearby. “It's not an animal. It's a man who wants to be an animal.”

“Does he believe he's an animal?” Jack asks the both of us, I glance at Will. “It's not what he believes, it's what he imagines.” I say in an almost thoughtful voice. “Considering the savagery of the attacks, he's clean and organized. Meticulous, even. What does he want?”

“He wants to maul. This isn't personal. He doesn't know them. He doesn't need to know them.

They're just meat to him. Prey.” Will says as he approaches closer to us. “This kind of psychosis doesn't just slip through the system. Someone somewhere would have noticed.” 

“If it is psychosis, he got inside it somehow. Tamed it, made a suit of it. He's an engineer. Or understands engineering. He can build things. He built his beast. He's a student of predators.” Jack taking that in...

BAU – EVIDENCE PROCESSING - DAY-

Brian Zeller and Jimmy Price stand opposite Jack Crawford, between them a CAVE BEAR SKULL and a DIRE WOLF SKULL. “The closest comparative bite radius we could match to the victims' wounds was a cave bear.” 

“Even a dire wolf, which is the largest species in the genus Canis, is itty-bitty by comparison.”

“But a cave bear couldn't do this.”

“Mostly because they're vegetarians and have been extinct twenty-eight thousand years.” Jimmy says with sass. “Mostly because the bite force relative to skull size couldn't do the kind of damage we've seen.” Zeller states as he opens the jaw. “What could?” Jack crosses his arms, Zeller shrugs “Pull-ratchets or pneumatics, maybe.”

“Pretty sophisticated ingenuity for any kind of animal, man or beast.” Jack finds Hannibal and I standing in the doorway. “Animals are far more like humans than we ever realized. And humans are far more like animals. One thin barrier between us.” Hannibal explains with insight.

“For some, that barrier's too thin. Hello, Dr. Lecter, Dr. L/N.  How does something like this present?” Jack asks us, i take a deep breath. “Someone affected by this kind of species dysphoria typically has other conditions. Mood disorders, clinical depression, schizophrenia.” I suggest, when one wants to be beast there are not many  studied. “Typically.”

“They may not present at all. Your killer could have built a bridge between who he appears to be and what he now knows he's become.” Hannibal expresses in his expertise.

“He didn't build a bridge, Dr. Lecter. He built a suit.” Jack explains, my eyes widen. This is a first. Like for the fucking unit first.  “What he seeks is transformation.”

“You ever see anything like this?” Jack asks.  I hesitate, as Hannibal guides me and Jack a few feet away for privacy:

“This threatens to be a violation of doctor-patient confidentiality, so I will tread carefully.” Hannibal says, of course it does. Great. He treated another one of our killers. “You have seen something like this.”

“Years ago, I treated a patient who fits this profile. A teenage boy who suffered from what I would describe as an identity disorder.” Hannibal explains, I adjust my posture. Heels are a bitch. “This boy imagined himself a beast?”

“During our therapy, he reported a moment of clarity. He understood, in that moment, he was an animal born in the body of a man. He kept a solitary life. He'd hide and behave in ways resembling animal behavior. Predatory.” Hannibal describes the paitent. My brows furrow in thought. “He was delusional.”

“Not necessarily. He didn't believe metamorphosis could physically take place, but that wouldn't stop him from trying to achieve it.” Hannibal shakes his head and explains. “He'd be a grown man now?” Jacks brows also furrow. “As he grew in wisdom and in confidence, he would no longer feel he had to meet his needs in hiding.” Hannibal says, His hand grazes my spine. Fuck. 

“What are his needs, Dr. Lecter?”

“Savagery.”

MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY – DINOSAUR ROOM - DAY-

Jack Crawford, Will Graham, and Dr. Y/N L/N the TYRANNOSAURUS looming over

them, wait as Randall approaches them. “Randall Tier?” the man nods “You wanted to speak to me?”

“I'm Special Agent Jack Crawford with the FBI. This is Will Graham and Dr. Y/N L/N. Did you put this together?” Jack gestures to the SABERTOOTH CAT skeleton. Now completed, it stares sightlessly at Will who gazes back. “Yes.” Jack admires a wall of various skulls. “Nice work. What's this one here?”

“A cave bear.” Jack considers that good-naturedly, then: “Ever put one of them together?”

“Put them together, take them apart, put them together again.” Tier shrugs, i notice his nervous body language. “Then you understand their mechanics, how they're engineered?” Jack smiles.

“We understand a lot about cave bears. Their fossils have been found in the tens of thousands, all over southern Europe. They're very common. Common enough you can get one on eBay. "Buy it now."” Tier says with sarcasm.  “I'm asking, Randall, because the skull of a cave bear was recently used as a murder weapon. At least its jaws were. Claws, too.” 

“Prehistoric skulls and claws were designed to do what they do best.” Tier says, I watch as he fidgets.  “Used the right tools for the job.” Will speaks up. “But it's what's inside the skull that tells you what the job is.” 

“You have a history with trouble inside your skull, Mr. Tier.” Randall Tier winces, feeling the slight. “That what this is about? You think I killed someone with a fossil? I had an identity disorder. Doctors told me the internal map of my body didn't match reality. Do you know what it's like when the skin you're wearing doesn't fit?”

“I can imagine.” Irony is it not. Being told whats going on in your mind wwhen youre the one who experiences it. “I know who I am now. I'm much better. I'm socializing. I'm taking my medication. I'm employed. I work very hard. I'm proof mental illness is treatable.” WILL finds legitimacy in Randall Tier's reply, and suspicion.

WILL GRAHAM'S HOUSE - NIGHT-

Will appears in the kitchen doorframe and rattles a spoon in the empty Dutch oven -- as good as a dinner bell. He kissses my temple as I cook dinner. When no dogs come running, he returns and is perplexed by what he sees.

ALL OF WILL'S DOGS Sit facing the front door as one. Is there something outside? Did someone knock? Will makes his way through his pack and slowly opens the door. “Will? Whos here?” I call from the kitchen. 

Will sees Margot Verger climbing out of a LUXURY CAR in his driveway. The dogs erupt into BARKS and Will steps outside, shutting the door behind him, effectively muffling the dogs. “Sorry for the intrusion. We met outside Dr. Lecter's office.”  Margot says as she approaches the house. “I remember. How did you find me?”

“Turns out, you are famous.”

“You're not exactly anonymous yourself, Margot.”

“It's cold. You have any whiskey?”

Will hands Margot a glass of whiskey, taking a drink of his own. I stare at the attractive woman as I take a sip of my whiskey. Will’s hand rests on my upper thigh. “So. What's the heir to the Verger meatpacking dynasty doing at our door?” I ask her with a smile. 

“My brother's the heir, not me. I've got the wrong parts and the wrong proclivity for parts.” there’s Something fresh about her frankness, likeable. “Didn't answer my question.”

“I'm here for a character reference. Patient to patient. What do you think of Dr. Lecter's therapy?” Margot asks simply. But nothing is ever simple with people like her. “Depends what you're in therapy for.” Will says as he take another sip of his whiskey. 

“I'm in therapy for all sorts of reasons. The Vergers slaughter eighty-six thousand cattle a day and thirty-six thousand pigs, depending on the season. That's just the public carnage.” I breath out a laugh. “What's your private carnage?” I ask, i look her up and down. Shes pretty. Very pretty. 

“I tried to murder my brother.” She says, I smile. I Murdered my mother, because she killed my family. Wonder why she wants to murder her Brother. Will studies her, then: “I assume he had it coming.”

“Did he ever. What's your private carnage?”

“I tried to murder Dr. Lecter.” Will says squeezing my  thigh. “I Murdered my mother.” i say blankly. You get used to that reality the longer you live with it. “See, now that's interesting. Did they have it coming?” Will studies her, debates answering that, then decides not to. “What do you think?”

“I can't say that I know.”

“Neither can I.”

“Sounds like we have similar issues. I doubt Dr. Lecter gave you the same advice on murder he gave me.” she smirks, Did hannibal tell her to murder he brother. My head tilts in curiosity. 

“What's that?”

“He told me, if at first I don't succeed, I should try, try again.”

WOODS – NIGHT-

RANDALL TIER Stands on a snowbound rise, concealed by trees. His killing suit is on, the jaw-mask strapped on and primed to work. Hannibal standing in the snow beside him, facing the same direction.

“The solitude of what you do is to be respected and I intend to honor that. I've only come to offer you words of encouragement.” Tier says nothing. In his killing suit, in this state of mind, there are no words. Hannibal senses as much.

“You are becoming, Randall, and this beast is your higher self. Your bodies, voices and wills are one.” Hannibal looks past the killing jaws, into Randall's eyes. “Revel in what you are.”

His words ring of the same encouragement Hannibal has given Will Graham and Margot Verger both. Tier remains silent as he and Hannibal turn to the site they were facing before – WILL GRAHAM'S HOUSE Its windows lit warm and yellow from inside.

WILL GRAHAM'S HOUSE - NIGHT-

Through the kitchen door, Will enters the room to see: HIS DOGS Sitting again, all facing the front door. Will crosses directly to the entrance. But this time the stoop is empty. Nothing but the cold, dark night. Will and his dogs look around, sensing something is amiss.

But ONE DOG takes its instinct one further and BOLTS through the open door and tears off into the darkness. Will and the other dogs pause, uncertain -- until the escaped dog's YELP splits the night. Opening the lock on Will's old gun cabinet. A RIFLE As Will takes it from its rack. He chambers a shell. Two.

WILL GRAHAM'S HOUSE - NIGHT-

Will bounds down his steps in his shirtsleeves, flushed from the safety of his shelter. He follows the line of his DOG'S TRACKS into the deep snow and the deeper darkness. RANDALL TIER

Stands, cloaked in shadow, watching and waiting to face this adversary... and discover how truly worthy he is.

WOODS – NIGHT-

Will enters the trees, armed with his rifle. No movement. No sounds. Tier could be anywhere in the darkness. Behind any tree, concealed by any shadow. Then: SOMETHING MOVES In the snow ahead. Will aims, ready to fire, but sees instead – HIS DOG Lying, injured. Will rushes to the animal to find it slashed and hobbled, but alive. Will scans the darkness around them

and makes a decision. He places his rifle down and scoops his dog up in his arms.

TIER'S SHADOW Flits across a tree trunk. How close to Will, we don't know. WILL Arms full of dog, lumbers fast as he can through the snow.  Tier's shape GLIDES past, searching for the moment to strike. Will and his dog run and stumble, headed for the safety of his house. Tier enters the field behind him and is closing in.

WILL GRAHAM'S HOUSE - NIGHT-

Will BANGS through the door. He places his injured dog down and LOCKS the front door behind him. Will moves from switch to switch, extinguishing the lights before cutting through the sudden darkness to – THE GUN CABINET Where he finds a HANDGUN.

TIER'S SHADOW Crosses the window. WILL'S DOGS Sense his anxiety and they crowd him, uncertain. Sounds come from outside -- a SCRAPE of Tier's clawed feet on the front porch. Will and his dogs face the front door, ready. Will levels his gun at the door. Waits. Then a SHADOW GROWS FAST on the front window and – K-SHHHHHH!

Tier comes hurtling through it in a cascade of GLASS and SPLINTERED WOOD, backlit by the blue moonlight. WILL Recoils and drops, hands flying up to protect his eyes.  His gun Clatters away into the darkness. WILL'S DOGS BARK at the intruder. Will finds his fishing vest on the

floor and fumbles through the many pockets to find – A SHEATHED FILLET KNIFE. Will pulls it out, the narrow blade catches the moonlight.

TIER  Stands, shaking off glass like a dog shaking itself dry. CLAWS SPLAYED, legs apart, ready to face – WILL Rising up, brandishing his knife, facing Tier. his dogs around him, BARKING and SNARLING FURIOUSLY --

A FANGED RESIN MUZZLE AND THE DIRE WOLF CRANIUM Come together to complete the skull. A perfect fit.

SUBURBAN BASEMENT - NIGHT-

Multiple BAU AGENTS sort and bag evidence from the room. Jack and Hannibal walk the length of Tier's workbench. Past air-filling tanks, strips of bear fur, replacement pistons and rods. Jack stops at the reassembled dire wolf skull. “A beast doesn't know it's a beast, but the nearer a man gets to being a beast, the less he knows it.”

“We took the traps from the drains. Found pieces of scalp, hair still attached. Blood, tissue, bone. Whatever he used to kill, he cleaned it here. We have everything we need to convict Randall Tier. Except Randall Tier. He's vanished.”

“That's troubling.”

“You knew it. You knew what he was. He was your patient, Dr. Lecter.”

“Every therapist deals in darkness, Jack. I only learn how accurate my treatments are after the fact. When I hear secondhand that a patient is back on track. Or that they're not. Or that they've taken their own life. Or someone else's. Where's Will and Y/N?” Hannibal asks curiously.

“I haven't been able to reach him.” HANNIBAL tilts his head as he ponders Will's fate...

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE – ENTRYWAY - NIGHT-

The house is empty. The SOUND OF A KEY in the lock and Hannibal enters. He places his coat over a chair and heads into his kitchen. A beat. Then Hannibal returns, his eyes on something. He starts in that direction.

HANNIBAL ENTERS HIS DINING ROOM Focused on his new table -- specifically, its centerpiece. To reveal what exactly the centerpiece is: atop Hannibal’s dining room table lies, sprawled – RANDALL TIER Dead. Still clad in his now-defunct killing suit -- a warrior's battle gear sapped of its mechanical ferocity.

HANNIBAL Walks a circle around the table. He considers the offering. One akin to a mouse left by the cat for its master. Hannibal surprised by Will Graham a second time ---- and pleased.

[your-local-hoemie]

Making out with thoma and tugging on his soft hair mgmfgnfmfmf

Woof woof bark bark-

I like your brain very much yes yes!

This isn’t smut but I still don’t feel comfortable with minors interacting so please avoid if you’re under 18

Warnings: suggestive, making out, grown-up touches, Gn!reader, established relationship, not proof-read.

Characters: Thoma.

It was a warm summers day in Inazuma and the streets were bustling with busy people, going about their day and the atmosphere was buzzing with energy.

You had decided to take a stroll along the harbour to take in the cool sea breeze against your skin and sounds of the waves crashing against the rocks.

It had been a few days since you last saw your boyfriend; Thoma. Inazuma’s well renowned “fixer” and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him dearly.

So when you happened to catch a glance of the friendly ginger helping some sailors with their cargo, (yes he’s still ginger. Fight me) you were ecstatic to say the least!

“Thoma!” You could hardly hold yourself back as you rushed over to his side, wrapping your arms around him with a elated giggle.

“Y/N? What are you doing here??” Thoma replied while a grin beamed across his face at the sight of his beloved in his arms.

“I was just taking a walk and then I saw you and couldn’t resist coming over and saying hello! I’m not keeping you from your work am I?”

“No, don’t worry. I’ve just finished up actually. If you’d like I’d be more than happy to spend the rest of my free time with you!”

With that, the two of you ventured off into the bustling streets all while catching up on the time that you both had missed out on together.

As the sun started to set in the horizon, you both found yourself situated underneath a maple tree overlooking the city.

“You know, you should be really proud of yourself, Thoma. You’ve done so much for this place and the people in it”

Thoma gave you a bashful chuckle, pink dusting his cheeks at your words.

“I really don’t do that much. I just help out where I can. But thank you for your kindness, love”

He was always so humble. You couldn’t help but find this to be an adorable aspect of his personality.

The way his cheeks flushed red whenever you gave him a compliment and the way he’d always give out a little embarrassed giggle, always had a way to make your heart to little flips in your chest.

Unable to resist the beautiful man laying next to you. Dying sunlight giving him an enchanting glow while the soft grass framed his face perfectly. You propped yourself up on your elbow and without any warning; you pressed your lips tightly against his.

Thoma froze for a brief moment at your unexpected action before melting into your affections unable to resist the urge to lay you down on the grass on your back, taking his place on top of you with his lips growing more desperate in the heat of the moment.

The more your lips intertwined with each other, the more everything else around you melted away as your bodies pressed against each other in a beautiful synchronisation of love for each other.

Feeling the heat in your body build up, you couldn’t help but let your hand find its way up to his soft, silky locks. Letting the strands of his sun kissed hair wrap around your fingers, giving it a gentle tug he couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

After a few more minutes you finally pull away, both of you breathless and flushed from the impromptu make out session; you could see the blush plastering his pretty face as his sense come back into play.

“You’re such a troublemaker Y/N. What if someone caught us?”

“Then I’d proudly show them that you belong to me~”

I hope this is accurate because I don’t know how making out works :)

Also I had to rewrite this entire thing because tumblr went weird and didn’t save it istg T^T

[jays-bookmarks]

Falling Leaves (Kazuha x gn!reader)

I woke up today and chose violence >:3c

This was inspired by some hcs I saw that said Kazuha would be too passive and conflict-averse to ever sit down and address the problems in your relationship so the tension would just build until it all falls apart and boy I was thinking about that all night,, so I had to write something about it lol

I might write a part 2 where you guys make up if people want to see it bc goodness knows I can't handle pure angst like this lmao

Summary: You love maple leaves, yet so many goodbyes seem to happen when they turn red. They say if you love someone, set them free... but why does it hurt so much? Words: 927 Warnings: angst w no comfort, Kazuha has attachment issues :(

Autumn was always your favorite season in Inazuma. With it came a break from summer's constant balmy air that always stuck your clothes to your skin, and the farmers' harvest that meant a huge variety of dishes for you to sample. Yet the most important change in autumn was the leaves of the maple trees that dotted the Inazuman landscape. There was something about this last burst of color before the trees shed their leaves for the winter that always left you in awe, and on more than one occasion you had to quickly apologize to someone you bumped into because you were too busy watching the trees.

In recent times, though, the autumn leaves reminded you of something else. Someone else, to be specific.

That someone was sitting next to you, his back leaning against the trunk of the maple tree the two of you were relaxing under. Every once in a while, a breeze rustled through the branches, blowing a few crimson leaves to the ground.

The two of you had spent many afternoons like this, simply enjoying each other's presence. Yet today, as with many days previously, you felt something had changed.

You shot a glance at your beloved. He was silent, a contemplative frown on his face. You had caught him wearing a similar expression on many occasions when he thought you weren't looking, and, after weeks of gentle prodding that got you nowhere, you were determined to get an answer out of him today.

You sighed, prompting Kazuha to look at you with a questioning hum.

"Kazuha, are you… okay?" You asked.

Kazuha smiled, leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead. "Of course. I'm with you, aren't I?"

You bit your lip. This was the same evasive answer he'd been giving you every other time you brought this up to him.

"That's sweet, Kazuha, but…" you paused. "You've been sort of… distant… lately, even when we're together."

"…I'm sorry, my love. It seems I've neglected you yet again."

"No, this isn't about— this is about you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, love."

You sighed as silence fell over you both. You knew he was avoiding the question, but you decided that the issue had gone on unresolved for long enough, so you kept pressing.

"Is it because I asked you to spend more time with me?"

You hated considering the possibility, but you had to be sure either way. Kazuha stiffened beside you. Though it was only a brief pause before he spoke, it told you everything. After all, he wasn't very good at lying, especially not to you.

"Of course not, love. The time I spend with you is the most precious of them all."

Your chest tightened as you took a shaky breath. It's not like this was unexpected. You had felt the distance between you two growing by the day, but you deluded yourself into thinking that you could still bridge the gap. Maybe if you had said something earlier… reached a little harder… but... no, he was too far gone. You should've known better than to cling so tightly to such a free spirit. You were someone who craved stability and reliability, and this was something Kazuha simply couldn't grant you.

With that realization, you asked your final question.

"Am I… tying you down?"

Another pause. Kazuha let out a long sigh. "In truth…"

You drew in a breath, your hands clenching at the fabric of your shirt as you prepared to receive the blow of his words.

"No."

You looked up in shock, the tension deflating from your body as you met Kazuha's gentle gaze. He smiled, but the twinkle in his eyes you had grown to love was nowhere to be found.

You shook your head, pinching your eyes shut so you didn't have to see the pity in his gaze.

"Don't lie to make me feel better, Kazuha," you said. "If I'm really holding you back from being happy, then—"

You cut yourself off, unable to voice the thought that had surfaced in your mind. Tears began to roll down your cheeks, but no hand came to wipe them away.

"Then… is this goodbye?" Kazuha said, his voice soft but steady, just like it always was, betraying no hint of emotion.

"…it doesn't have to be."

You wanted to grab him by the hand and beg him to stay; you wanted to pull him into an embrace and hold him until he promised to be by your side forever; but most of all, you wanted him to smile again, properly, without that distant look in his eyes. So you kept your arms wrapped tight around yourself. They say if you love someone, set them free… but why did it hurt so much?

Kazuha pushed himself from the ground, the soft swish of fabric the only other sound besides your trembling breaths. Even the breeze had died down, as if the world itself was holding its breath to see what would happen next. Kazuha stood before you for a moment. You wished you could see what expression he wore, but you couldn't bring yourself to look up at him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make you happy," he said. "Goodbye."

He turned and started down the path back to Ritou, his footsteps fading with your final shred of hope. You buried your head in the cocoon of your body and sobbed. So this was it. All the time you spent together, over with a single word.

Goodbye, Kazuha. I'm sorry I couldn't make you happy.