#nocturnal animals imagine

[rebelliousstories]

Jake Gyllenhaal & Co.

Jake Gyllenhaal

Love and Youth

The right person can make you feel young all the time. And having a relationship in the public can be extremely tough at times. So what happens when you combine these two things?

Edward Sheffield

Favorite Feeling

After a long and hard day, Edward’s favorite thing is the cuddles on the couch with a movie and a bowl of ice cream.

Detective David Loki

Safe In Your Arms

Loki hasn’t been home in days; no problem.

Tall, Dark, and Handsome

There were two things that David Loki knew to be true; 1. There was a mysterious cup of coffee on his table when ever he left the room. And 2. The woman he likes has no clue about his feelings.

The Secret to a Good Relationship

Everyone always says that the secret to a good relationship is communication. Now to see if you can teach an old dog new tricks.

Donnie Darko

Eyes Open

There’s just something creepy about seeing someone sleep walk and talk.

With Friends Like These

Friends should always have your best interest at heart, and should never disrespect the bro code: do not disrespect the girl your friend has a crush on.

Sex, Drugs, Rock ‘N Roll

What was suppose to be a quiet and spooky night in, quickly turned into something a bit scarier, but a bit more relaxed.

Jack Twist

Happily Ever After

Sometimes, Prince Charming is just a few years away.

Partner

A quick trip into town for a few cowboys turns into a trip down memory lane.

Quentin Beck/ Mysterio

Dating Quentin Beck/ Mysterio Headcanon’s…

Some headcanons of mine about dating Quentin Beck

[invinciblerodent]

getting a little bit obsessed with my "cottagecore throuple" here, because the more I think about it, the more disgustingly perfect and idyllic the whole thing is to me.

like... post-game, I like to imagine Shadowheart absolutely thriving. She's a city girl with a deep love for animals, and spotty- to nil memories, most of which are of the worst things to have ever happened in a dank torture-basement: of course a sweet, picturesque forest cottage (so far I like to think that Petyr would call it "The Hovel", even though it's by all means a cozy, nice hunter's lodge) would have her downright giddy, and she deserves every ounce of that happiness ever.

As I imagine it, when not enthusiastically learning all there is to learn about the quasi-self-sustaining life (that she had dropped herself into by shacking up with a literal forest ranger), she spends as much time outside as possible: walks barefoot in the tall grass, stops to smell every flower (and even plants quite a few, just by the vegetables), and lays in the soft underbrush for hours at a time- enjoying the sunlight caressing her face, enjoying a nice novel (and/or a cuddle with Scratch, the cub, or her boyfriend once he sits down for a moment), or just gazing up at the moon and stars in silent worship. She makes friends with every animal that crosses her path, too: SO many potions of animal speaking are consumed, it's absurd. (She's best friends with the chickens. Petyr has to start farming acorn truffles in the basement for her, and that even proves actually very lucrative- in town, that shit sells for like 10-20 gold a pop.)

She'd of course bring home everything that'll let her. Little wildflower bouquets and stuff at first, but also every critter: from juvenile racoons just weaned from their mothers (they look almost like kittens! how cute!), to elderly foxes that just want to curl up in front of the fire and warm their bones somewhere safe for a moment. She's having the time of her goddamn life, she's learning a shitton of life skills she was never taught (finally learning things not meant to make her better at hurting people!), and generally enjoying a life that, while still plagued by remnants of the past (night terrors, perpetrator trauma, loss, grief, pains both suffered and inflicted, all that great stuff), has her feeling actually content with her lot in it.

And with all this, Petyr is... very business as usual, or at least he's trying to pretend that he is. Having someone in what was his space for like 20 years is strange initially, but if there's one thing he's used to, it's adapting. Making things work. (Plus, he's like, happy, or whatever. In love. You know, that sort of rot.)

Then again, he's also used to only having to feed himself with the very little he has, not another (especially another who is inexperienced at this type of thing, and a second another who just... drops by sometimes, always unannounced and unexpected, but never unwelcome), which deep down does have him a bit (a lot) more antsy about not just being the self-appointed guardian of her happiness, but also just... their general survival.

He's keenly aware that winters in the wild are never especially easy, not when you're so far removed from the safety of a community- especially not the way he's used to being alone, without even magic to keep you warm and safe. Usually, he spends most of the year primarily occupied by preparing for winter, and even like that, there have been lean years: years when he got snowed in for tendays, when he did something stupid and all the careful prep went down the shitter, years he had to go hungry and learn to make do with next to nothing.

So he compensates for- (and distracts himself from-) that anxiety by making extra sure that the pantry is stocked to bursting with all the goods there can be, and they often head out into the woods to hunt and forage together- although he's not a great (or even a good) teacher, Shadowheart (usually Shadow, often Heart, lately Jen or Jenny in affection) does make what he used to do out of sheer need, into something also done for fun.

Hunting and foraging are fun now, and soon, the cabinets are overflowing with jars and jars of dry mushrooms, so much homemade deer jerky, jams and jellies and pickles galore... there's mead fermenting, and homemade soap curing before it can be used, firewood stacked to the height of a person... herb bundles, garlic braids, grain corn, and drying peppers are strung up on the rafters like fragrant fairy lights.

Meanwhile, I imagine that Halsin comes and goes as he pleases- not entirely unlike a beloved stray cat. He just shows up one evening as if he had left not tendays, but only a few hours ago, kicks the duff or mud or snow off his boots, and leans his staff into its habitual nook by the door. He sets whatever it is that he brought this time in its appropriate place (be it otherwise unobtainable goods from town, or just a little gift, a treat to enjoy together), and he sinks into the worn-out armchair by the fireplace that was declared his the first time he stayed.

One of the others almost always then strolls by to settle wordlessly on his lap (if not both of them- that poor chair can barely take the combined weight), and just relax as his big, warm fingers slowly work through the knots and ties keeping their hair out of their faces, and, voice rumbling deep in his chest, he tells them all that has happened in Reithwin the past while.

The many smells of dinner and the comforting scent of pipe tobacco mingle with the fragrant herbs and the crackling fire then, and creates something that can only be described as the scent of home.

.............. and then all three just fuck absolute NASTY every day, in every configuration, and on every surface available for the next, oh, month or so.

[pureconancommentary]

First off, excellent talk from Agasa about Shinichi rushing into things being why he got into this mess to begin and why he's not really a mature detective. And it still takes a long time before he starts to take a breath and think things through before taking action. He's fully aware of our tiny detective's biggest shortcoming, and tbh it makes the Kudo parents actions later make more sense. Agasa probably told them that their son just keeps running headlong into danger.

Secondly, the security guard being killed is literally only brought up this once (and has another translation that makes no sense - 'tried to seize the robbers without knowing' is just - anyway it's saying the guard was unprepared or careless like Shinichi tends to be with his confrontations atm). But I suppose this is the best we get for a motive for why Hirota tried to take the money for himself. What was a big payout robbery accidentally involved the death of the guard, and Hirota was the getaway, so he tried to run first and lay as low as he could. We don't know any more details, we don't know if one of the three killed him or if, say, the BO had more involvement than just letting Akemi organize the robbery. So there's also a possibility that Hirota became more aware of other people at play who were more than willing to kill anyone in the way.

[another-lost-mc]

having a brainrot about how it would be if the characters turned into their animal type (is that what that's called?)

like imagine a shady sorcerer happen to accidentally cast a spell that changes them into their animal type how fucking cute and funny that would be

-🪶

a/n: that's so cuuuute. I went with the symbolic animals from their banners.

the wild side | the demon brothers + karasu

0.5k words | sfw | fluff + humor

related: the dateables' version

The Peacock (Lucifer)

How he responds to you vs. how he responds to everyone else:

He can't keep his feathers fanned out on full display as much as he wants to because he keeps getting stuck in doorways.

He walks around the house in a slow strut. Sometimes he spins around to show off all 360 degrees of his exquisitely-feathered beauty.

He doesn't notice that sometimes he smacks you in the face with his plumes if you're nearby.

The Crows (Mammon and Karasu)

They both bring you gifts and intimidate the others that try to get too close.

They're even more clingy than normal too.

It's surprisingly easy to tell them apart: Mammon's feathers are tipped with white, and Karasu's eyes have a deep scarlet glow.

The Snake (Leviathan)

He desperately wants to curl himself around your arm or leg. He'll try to keep his space if you're visibly creeped out by snakes though, he doesn't want to scare you.

An alternative you could try is wearing one of his oversized hoodies: he'll curl up inside the pocket and every once in a while he'll poke his head out and flick his serpentine tongue at you.

If you don't like that either, he'll curl up in the bottom of your closet or under your bed, somewhere dark and warm where he can still be close enough to keep an eye on you.

The Unicorn (Satan)

The House of Lamentation wasn't designed for horses or horse-like creatures.

He's the only one Lucifer won't try to chase away, his hooves look deadly.

Satan doesn't fit in your bedroom easily but he'll follow you in the hallways or inside the larger rooms with more space.

You are definitely going to recreate this movie moment at some point before the magic wears off:

The Scorpion (Asmodeus)

He's a bit bigger than most scorpions which means he's even more cute or gross depending on how you feel about them.

He's careful not to hurt you with his pincers if you pick him up.

He must be powerful even in this form because he releases sweet-smelling pheromones when he senses you're nearby.

He curls in the makeshift bed on you place on your desk for him. He's surprisingly calm even though scorpions are usually nocturnal.

His eyes have an eerie pink glow. You didn't notice it until you turned off the lights at bedtime.

(He stares at you until you fall asleep.)

The Fly (Beelzebub)

He's a bit larger than a normal fly.

He's restless and his wings are so noisy when he buzzes around you.

Most of the time you can hear the faint sound of his wings coming from the kitchen.

When he's not eating, he's usually hovering on or near Belphie.

The Cow (Belphegor)

He barely fits in your room and he snorts irritably when you raise your arms up and remind him that he is definitely not allowed to sleep on your bed like this.

He's even more annoyed because he can't go up to the attic like this either.

He just happens to plop down in front of your doorway to sleep instead. The others can't climb or go around him easily. He flicks them away with his tail when they try. He doesn't mind if you climb over him though.

read more: obey me masterlist

[ambunyun]

DC x DP Prompt (2)

Danny becomes a dreamwalker, and gains another complicated relationship.

It was no secret that Danny had a rocky and awkward relationship with his rogue gallery, especially after his coronation to become the Ghost King. Imagine the faces his enemies made when they learned that baby half-ghost they used to brawl with was now the Eternal Majesty and effectively their boss.

That was mostly how Danny, in a display of abuse of authority, made Nocturn agreed to help him enter a specific person's dream. More specifically, the dream of one Timothy Drake-Wayne.

It all started when Danny got his scholarship to Gotham University after finishing high school. Finally leaving his ghost-fighting life in Amity Park behind, although he still had to fulfill his duty as the Ghost King.

In his first year at Gotham U, he met none other than the Tim Drake - local celebrity, son of billionaire, genius - as his classmate.

Here's the thing, Danny made Tim extremely sleepy for some reasons.

For one, the air around Danny was chill. Unlike the biting cold of winters, this felt more like the cooling of an air conditioner on a summer day. Which made thing way too comfortable, his body just kept dozing off whenever this strange boy was around, like an animal ready for hibernation.

For two, being the Ghost King meant that Danny had the traces of all the Ancients on him. Including Nocturn's trace as the Ancient of Dream, which induced sleep. This was usually unnoticeable when you were awake, but if you were someone who overworked themselves to the limit of consciousness and survived purely of caffein and energy drinks like Tim did, it got much more effective.

So from Tim's perspectice, Danny was just one big sleep-inducing spell. And this was really ticking him off. He kept falling asleep in the middle of classes, or when he needed to concentrate on a vital case during study time. It was almost impossible to focus when Danny was around, everything was just so relaxing.

The batfam was overjoyed thinking that Tim had finally fixed his broken sleeping habits. In reality, this just made Tim even more paranoid and drank even more caffein than before.

Danny, being someone who had listened to Jazz's rants about the effect of lack of sleep on the mind for all his youth, immediately recognized Tim's worsening symtomps when he saw them. Strangely, whenever he approached Tim to give some advice, the boy just paled and skedaddled away as if he'd seen a ghost (hehe).

So, in true Danny's fashion, he asked Nocturn for help putting a poor classmate to proper sleep. He even manifested himself as the Ghost King in Tim's dream to ease the boy through the process.

This escalated when Tim accidentally developed a crush on Danny in his dreams and was now concerned if he had just developed a crush on a supernatural being in his dream. Or if he had just developed a crush on a figment of his imagination (he couldn't decide which was worse).

Danny was completely unaware of this and patted himself on the back for helping someone while Tim had a crisis.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Pray

Faith should not be transactional. Bartered to the highest bidder and sold as the winds shift. Bought with miracles and blessings. Heaped upon powerful champions and gifted at the sweet words of avatars. Perhaps it is old fashioned of me. Or maybe it is "naive" as I have often been accused.

To be honest, I am just not used to The Divine being so active.

Perhaps it is loyalty. Perhaps it is... faith. I do not know. But I can not imagine being swayed from the Goddess I serve. Not when... unlike BEFORE? I can... can actually FEEL Her presence.

I still laugh in disbelief sometimes. In AWE. Can you even IMAGINE? Sitting there, head bowed in prayer, in that quiet little temple of nowhere special, and... while expecting NOTHING? Feeling... feeling love. A gentle, all encompassing, hand that picks you up without moving you. Cradles your soul like a beloved child.

There aren't really words to explain what it feels like. It's somewhere between talking in circles, poetry, and gibberish. But BEAUTIFUL. So utterly, utterly beautiful. I can not comprehend why anyone would ever turn their back on her. Could EVER be bought with showy trinkets and bits of gold. Party tricks.

I am an outlier, in that regard.

Only myself and the Elders remain.

No one comes. Not to worship, not for blessings or wisdom. Not even to rest from the rain. Our humble temple more quiet then it has ever been. There was always SOMEONE. We are, after all, a temple too our Lady the Nox Viatoris. Keeper of those who travel at night, in places of peril, or should the worst occur... their soul's too safe resting. (Also, several small and fluffy nocturnal animals!)

"Night" was rather loosely defined, too. It honestly meant any place of low lighting. So a deep valley or cave worked too. Under belly of a city. Sewer system. We had smugglers, on occasion. They were generous. Honestly quiet devote. And as long as they didn't break the tenets of Our Lady's teachings? Well... what Oddly Weathy Worshiper with Working Knowledge Of Sewer Systems!

It was a well known joke. Everyone ignored them.

But one by one... they stopped coming.

The locals who's families had worshipped here for generations. The merchants who always came "just in case". The smugglers who "could use a bit of luck". Random travelers, guided by our Lady to a place of safety. I began to hear scoffs, as I went into town, from the younger generations. Get "concerned hints" from aunties and uncles I had know all my life.

Fellow priestess started too... drift away.

First seeming distracted, praying more, then praying less, going for longer and longer walks, their ceremonial robes getting increasingly half-hearted, then... after the final, damning stage of "staring off towards town a lot"? They would leave. Some with excuses. Others with vitriol. Our home colder and colder for each one gone.

The Elders heart's were breaking. They were watching the slow death of the only home they had ever known and could do nothing to stop it. The temple was dying. The children they had raised, the little ones who were all but grandchildren, abandoning them without second thought or simple discussion. For some whispered promise of foreign gods.

But I? I intend to stay, no matter what.

I who had been born to travels that did not want me, here in this temple that DID. Loved by these walls and this Lady. Who was given a second chance when my first ended so abruptly. Who would walk with Her one day. Proudly and with love. This was my home. Even if I had to take care of it by myself, I WOULD.

Things in town grew... vitriolic. Tense. Like a simmering heat had spread across the street where once, cool water flowed. It lurked beneath the surface. Volatile and burning, as bright colors seem to spread like sickness across the town. They felt... aggressive, somehow. Those colors. As though anyone NOT wearing them must answer for the crime of it.

I had them pushed upon me.

Again and again.

"It's cheerful!" "Look how bright and sunny they are!" "You'll look GREAT!"

I served a night goddess. The brightest color I was allowed to wear was off white to represent the moon and stars. Night blooming flowers if I could find them and justify it. It wasn't a matter of PREFERENCE. They KNEW this. I could NOT wear their gifts. Not the clothes. Not the jewelry. Not the decorations. None of it. Especially not with...suns... on it.

It was then I did more then just suspect. As I held the most recent gift, pushed upon me by well meaning friends. Struggling to remain patient. The sun sewn into the cheerfully dyed fabric MOCKED and sneered. Gaudy and ugly to my eyes. I turned, back to the temple, the rest of my shopping forgotten.

It could wait.

When I returned? I showed the Elders what I had been handed. Elder Antilla going so pale she nearly fainted. It was all that they had feared. At last, one of the major players had decided to swallow our tiny region whole. We were nothing but a small regional faith. Our Lady a weak but kind Divine in the grand scheme of things. She took care of us.

Could not offer us miracles and silks, honey and splendor. But she could love us. Protect our souls and guide us. The stronger Gods? Oh, they could offer SO MUCH more. Tempt and sway away Her faithful. Starve her into nothingness as they strip her of power. Consume her, as they had so many others before.

We had been safe.

Because we were far away and of little interest, tucked away between mountains that lead to nowhere of strategic worth. Few people to even convert. But seems... our time had run out. One of them had come for us. And oh... oh how EASY it had been for them to pour their power and wealth into swaying our faithful away. Buying their souls for a pittance of power and a laugh.

We had to sit down.

The mood grim.

The Elders would not live much longer, I knew. Perhaps that was why they were ignored. That, or the other God knew they could not sway them. They certainly would not sway me. I refused. Even if I had to worship alone. Became some cultist in the woods. I would NOT leave Her.

I prayed.

The silence felt deafening. But at least I was not alone. My Lady's arms held me close. As though trying to shield me from the world. Shaking, tears of grief that left no marks, dropping one after another upon my hair and skin. Suddenly the arms around me tightened in alarm. Pulled, as though commanding me to stand. To be ready to run. There was FEAR in that action.

I was on my feet at once. Turning towards the open air of the entrance.

Up the road, old and worn with the passing feet of countless travelers, came the crisp step of expensive boot leather. The rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds, all of it, seemed to hush as the sound of footsteps got closer. As though nature itself was afraid to draw attention of whatever was coming.

It was the light that changed first. No longer coming from just above us, yet somehow? It still was. The mid-day's sun was bright, cheerful, yet perfectly ordinary. Natural in the way countless summer day's have been. But the light coming from up the path? Low and shifting like a lantern swings, in a way that can only be ORGANIC?

It BURNED.

The sort of light that purges all in its path. That blinds and maims and burns. So hot everything becomes cold, as nerve endings char away. Like the blinding light off winter snow. Pale and reaching. Hungry. Consuming. W...What WAS that? It was getting closer. I backed deeper into the temple. Towards my Lady's idol.

The hush grew louder and louder, in it's terrible absence of sound.

The light brighter, as whatever IT was, got closer.

My eyes could see no shadows, so it probably wasn't real light. It hurt to look at. Yet it didn't hurt in the way staring at bright lights SHOULD hurt. It was painful because it had... claws? Thorns. Jagged, dragging edges that ripped at the something in me that SAW.

I could See because I needed to See, I think.

She NEEDED me to know what stood before me was not merely a man.

And THAT? That is the form it took. The liar and thief. A burning monster at the threshold of my home. Dressed in the finest silks and satins stolen faith can buy, the jewels glinting from his belt enough to buy several small nations. THAT was not a man. It just looked like one. Wore the face of one.

High Priest? Champion?

Goddess help me, an Avatar?

They were enmeshed. Woven so tightly they were all but an extension of the Divine. And it BURNED. Bright, holy, and terrible. A Sun standing before the Moon's own temple, with purging fire in its heart.

"Hello, little Thing. You've been quite stubborn, haven't you?"

They didn't raise their voice, yet still my bones felt like they rattled in my skin. The few windows we had, shook. Light fixtures swayed. I... I was afraid. I would NOT cower, but oh, Lady, I was afraid. His voice felt like the desert sighing against my skin. The edge of a threat.

"I lay out treats and you do not come. I invite the town and you will not hear me. You brothers and sisters kneel at my feet, yet you? You spurn me, too give your loyalty away for nothing."

I watch as he casually reaches to the air to his side. As though accepting something offered from someone who is not there. A cigarette. He tucks it into his mouth and cups the end, his finger glowing brightly as he lights it.

He takes a drag then exhales.

Letting the smoke whisp, rudely, past the unspoken barrier between us and into the temple proper. It's scent mixes discordantly with the incense. Making what was once lovely a cloying and choking mess. I watch him smirk as he takes another drag. Send more smoke inside.

His disrespect is deliberate.

"What can the festering night give, that the loving embrace of the day can not give better?"

His smirk rolls into the mimicry of a laugh. The monster's head tilted as though to consider my reaction even as the empty sound echoes against the temple's walls. It has the depth of a laugh track. The warmth of one. How... HOW has this CREATURE fooled ANYONE? Destroyed us so utterly? It is cruel.

"Ah~ so THAT'S what it is, you precious little Thing." He whispers, somehow the most terrible sound he has made so far. The power of it drags against me covetously, lingering like hands. "True Faith, given freely. You really do love her so, don't you? That wretched, unworthy, Nothing. Little Thing~, you should love ME instead."

It ended in a croon. As though trying to entice me. But all I could hear was static. The pounding of my heart as fear released adrenaline into my body, bringing the world into hyperfocus. "Me"? My ears had not deceived me, right? That THING in mockery of man's form... said "me"?

Oh, Nox Viatoris, our Lady who guides us, on darkest paths in deepest night... h.. hold my soul with kindness. Walk with me, on this broken, troubled path. That I may not face it alone. I... I am scared.

That... That was An AVATAR.

The extension of the Divine upon this mortal world. Not nearly their full power, but even a fraction of the INFINTE? Is beyond mortal capacity to fight. Only Avatars could handle other Avatars. On rare occasions, Champions, should they band together. But I... I was just a priestess. A humble child of nowhere.

Oh Goddess.

I back up. My back hitting the alter. I... I was probably going to die here. Our faith, wiped from the face of the map. I finally understood. He had come to stomp, like crushing ants, on what few hold outs dared linger at the fringes of his domain. Sent his Avatar to convert and destroy.

Our home would be nothing but rubble, wouldn't it? Generations of faith, gone. Our history, burned before his uncaring purge. At... oh Goddess, dear Lady, at least I would walk that final time with her. Could return the kindness she had shown so many. He was going to kill her. Kill US.

I...I refused to let her die alone.

Against my back, I felt the cool warmth of my Lady, leaning against me. Her unseen arms around me in comfort. For me or herself, I could not tell. It did not matter. I stood taller. Head high, shoulders back, feet shoulders wide. Shaking, yes, but unwilling to cower.

If I died today, I would walk proudly with Nox Viatoris.

The smile had slipped from the Avatar's face as it blankly regarded the spot directly behind me. Like a puppet sliding back into default in that absence of commands. I briefly wondered... who had he been? The faithful man, who gave up his form? Who was hollowed out and USED? He was beautiful. Had he been asked?

Or had he had this terrible thing inflicted upon him?

I would never know.

"That's rather annoying, you useless little parasite. She and I were having a conversation." The puppet's, the AVATAR'S mouth, barely moved. "Can't you go check on those wastes of space of yours? The ones that you've only barely managed to keep? They should be dead soon, you'll need to do your job. I'll take Good Care~ of this bright little soul. Don't bother coming back."

"No need." Came the deceptively soft rasp of the high priest. His normally kind face colder then I had ever seen it. Fierce and determined as he lead the other elders from the where they had been meeting in the gardens. Had the Goddess called them? Or had they simply sensed something was wrong?

"I am afraid that although the temple is said to be open to all, that is not, in fact, strictly true. Those that come here with malicious intent are not welcome. Nor those who come to cause trouble, intent regardless. YOU have caused grief and pain here. We do not welcome you to these halls. Please go."

Elder Lilam was subtly pushing me towards the back of the group. Their eyes somber as they met mine. I... I did not cry. There would been time for such things later, I hoped. I nodded back. Understood. Went, softly, on quiet feet. Past the alter, into the back, down the main hall on swift but not running feet.

To the back, where the wanderers bags were. For those our Lady calls suddenly to travel. To wander the roads in search of lost travelers in need of aid. I grabbed more then my fair share of bags. I... I did not suspect I would be coming back. Then into the back gardens. Where we grew herbs and vegetables for the kitchen.

The front of the temple SHOOK.

A terrible burning light. Heat and death. I barely kept my feet under me. Broke into a sprint. Away from the only home I had ever known. The Elders I was certain our Lady now walked to their rest. Towards the mountains and forests I had explored all my life. I... I could only hope they would protect me.

In my chest, the mantle of High Priestess settled. Heavy and mournful with our Lady's grief. I would have to carry the weight. There was no one else now. They were gone. With her. They had done all they could.

Felt their sorrow, their love, and it was all I could do not to let my tears blind me.

I needed to see the path. Could not risk missteping even once.

Behind me, down further below, and now hidden by the trees, I heard the temple crash and shake. As it was torn apart. Pillar by pillar, room by room, lifetimes of love and memories were destroyed. The murals painted in my childhood were surely gone by now. The hand carved doors that had lasted for centuries. Paint splatters and embroideries from generations of youth who had grown to call that place home.

Gone.

All of us, gone.

I ran.

I ran and I HATED myself for running. What could I DO? What could I POSSIBLY hope to DO? All I had left was to survive. Too carry them forward. It hurt. Worse then any breaking bone or burning skin. I couldn't even cry. I... I didn't have the TIME.

I hit the tree line. Didn't dare go too much higher. Didn't know if Avatars could fucking fly. Didn't want to find out the hard way. So many things I did not do. Was there anything left I DID do? Was GOOD for?

There was.

The shadowed place between two mountains. Mid-day had past. Afternoon was meandering towards days end. It would only get darker from here. Ha ha... where was this? When we need it? Oh, I knew. The monster timed his arrival well. At the height of his power.

But this was MY house now.

He may be stronger then me? But that meant NOTHING. I did not need power here. I needed SUBTLETY. A whisp of nothingness of a breeze of shadows. I could feel him, slow and steady, arrogant in his assumptions, pursuing me. He really did know NOTHING about those he destroyed. We were beneath his notice.

I hope the hubris burns as he chokes on it.

I slip between the mountains, into that deep rift of a valley, more crack then anything, and... VANISH. I am One with the Night. A traveler on Her path. Safe in her care. Sideways and one step removed from reality, as I race forward. No longer stumbling over uneven rocks and clambering on unstable terrain, the path beneath my feet is soft and smooth. I grin, as far away, that bastard falters.

"Oh, you clever little Thing. I forgot you still had tricks. Amusing~"

"It won't keep you from me though, I WILL have you in the end. And you will worship ME. Look only upon ME. And you will be my favorite, I think. I am going to chase you down, little Thing. So go ahead and pray. It will do you no good."

"You are going to be MINE, beautiful in the sunlight. You have no choice."

[drmaddict]

Yogi's Choice

Summary: The CoD guys with a girl who is into yoga.

Characters: Soap, Ghost, Alejandro, König, Rudy

Wordcount: 1.995

Soap

"What are you doing?"

Johnny's voice snapped me out of my concentration. I put my feet on the floor and sat down on the mat beneath me. Slightly annoyed, I looked up at him. "Yoga."

He was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. "And you always look like a pretzel? Apart from that. Why didn't you ever tell me that you can put your feet behind your head? As your boyfriend, I should know that!"

I just rolled my eyes and tried to get into my next pose.

"What's that called now? Warrior something?"

"Super Soldier." I mumbled, concentrating on keeping my balance.

Johnny laughed. "Looks pretty wobbly, soldier.", he teased me.

I didn't let myself be put off. "Then why don't you try it yourself?" I mumbled and changed sides.

I heard him clap his hands. "All right."

I slowly stood up again and watched Johnny trying to sort out his limbs, which only resulted in him standing very stiffly on my mat with his legs a little wide and looking down at himself in confusion.

I smirked. "What's wrong Sergeant?"

He looked at me stubbornly. "Hey I've only seen the pose once. Let me think!"

I grinned. "Legs hip-width apart. Good. Upper body down. Put your weight on one leg and slowly lift the other. Now grab your foot with your hand and-" BOOM. Johnny fell over like a sack of rice. I stifled my laughter with all my might.

"Fuck.", he grumbled, but immediately stood back up and tried again... and again and again.

I watched him sit cross-legged until he looked down at his legs angrily and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Looks pretty wobbly.", I grinned.

He grumbled to himself, his accent becoming so strong again, that I could hardly understand anything. "I'll figure that out!", he promised and quickly left the room.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm getting a stupid yoga mat!", he shouted and I heard the door slam.

Knowing him, he wasn't going to let that down until he managed to hold this not-so-easy pose.

I could have just told him, that he has to bend his knee, but what would be the fun in that?

Ghost

"What are you doing here?" I mumbled, still slightly sleepy.

Simon was sitting on the stairs of the terrace, looking out over the moonlit farm. "Can't sleep.", he mumbled. He tapped his temple lightly. "Too loud."

I sat down next to him. I put half of the blanket I had wrapped around me around his shoulders and leaned against him. "Sorry."

He just mumbled.

We sat there quietly and listened to the nocturnal animals. "Don't you want to go for a walk?" I mumbled into the silence. That was usually his way of dealing with insomnia.

He sighed. "I'm already done."

I looked at him in surprise. "How long have you been awake?"

He shook his head. "Since we went to bed."

"Si." I sighed.

He rubbed his tired eyes. "I'm open to suggestions.", he mumbled devotedly.

"How many nights has it been?"

He looked at his hands. "The third."

"You haven't slept for three nights?", I asked, shocked. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He sighed. "I slept. Just very little."

I rubbed his back. "I'd say do yoga, but-"

He dropped his head onto my shoulder. "I do everything now.", he mumbled devotedly.

I laughed in surprise. "Really?"

He nodded.

He let me gently maneuver him into the house until I sat him down on the soft carpet in the living room.

He followed my little lesson without hesitation. Copied the gentle stretches. Followed the breathing I instructed him to do. We both lay on the floor in shavasana. "Concentrate on your breathing. I like to imagine a circle that gets bigger, when I breathe in and smaller, when I breathe out.", I explained. "This gives your head somthing to do."

He nodded almost imperceptibly and found his rhythm. "Let your limbs consciously become heavy. Push the tension out of them in a controlled manner. Relax your face."

I listened to his breathing and the soft noises that came through the open window. Simon was lying next to me. His eyes closed. His face relaxed.

He seemed calm. I was just hoping, that he would at least get some rest, even if he couldn't fall asleep, when his all-too-familiar loud snoring made me look up.

I grinned. There you go.

As carefully as possible, I laid the blanket over his tall form and trudged to the sofa to lie down again. We could always deal with any back pain later.

Alejandro

I felt a couple of big hands on my bottom.

"Hot." Alejandro grinned down at me.

I stood up again. I rolled my eyes, smirking slightly. "You really use every cliché.", I said and poked him on the forehead. "Weirdo."

Alejandeo wasn't impressed at all and simply pulled me towards him, until there wasn't a hair's breadth between us. "I am a man. We're simple creatures.", he beamed and tampered with my neck while he kneaded my bottom extensively.

"Ale!" I protested with a laugh and pushed him away from me. "I'm not finished yet.", I complained.

He looked at me closely. "I want to watch.", he said.

I just rolled my eyes again. "But shut up.", I admonished, poking him in the chest.

"Whatever my angel wants.", he just grinned and sat down next to my mat.

I ignored the presence of the born macho next to me and resumed my exercises. I let my breathing and movements carry me and felt myself becoming more relaxed with every stretch and every pose, until I almost forgot that Alejandro was watching me.

When I opened my eyes again and got ready for the real world, I saw Alejandro watching me intently. He was smiling gently. Almost like a schoolboy he was beaming.

"What?" I asked, confused.

He crawled up to me and kissed my forehead. "You're beautiful.", he smiled.

I felt the heat in my cheeks. "Shut up." I smiled sheepishly.

Alejandro just grinned. "You'll have to teach me a few things.", he said.

I laughed. "You want to learn yoga?"

"Hm. Some of it would be the perfect punishment for a couple of rookies... And some of it could be very helpful in private, of course." He waggled his eyebrows playfully.

I laughed. "An absolute cliché. You macho."

"You're into it."

"Admittedly." I confessed and kissed him.

It didn't take long for Alejandro to misappropriate my yoga mat.

König (Klaus)

"I'll kill you.", Klaus bit out quietly between his teeth.

Horangi laughed in amusement. "What's wrong, big guy? You said we need to relax more."

"What's relaxing about this, please?", he hissed. Klaus found himself in a very tense version of downward-facing dog, trying to remember what his back should feel like.

"Dig your left heel into the ground and lift your right leg. Keep your hips parallel to the floor.", instructed the yoga teacher of the class, walking through the rows in a relaxed manner.

Klaus knew her. Unfortunately. She lived in his apartment complex. He'd had a crush on her for a while. He had never spoken to her before. He wasn't sure if Horangi had planned this somehow, although he couldn't know anything about it. Klaus just concentrated on not making an absolute idiot of himself and lifted his right leg up with perhaps a little too much momentum. His foot banged against something.

"Hmph."

Klaus quickly pulled his leg back and looked into the face of his neighbor, who was rubbing her jaw. He turned bright red. Horangi next to him almost burst, it looked like, because he was trying to suppress his laughter. He was only partially successful.

"I'm so sorry.", Klaus stammered, but she just waved him off with a smile. "More shock than damage. Normally, the legs I walk past are shorter. I should have been more careful."

Klaus remained silent. Once again, he didn't know what to say. However, she only gestured for him to get back into position.

"Now pull your right leg towards your chest. Move your shoulders over your wrists. Breathe out. Breathe in. Bring your leg back up and forward again. Find your rhythm."

Klaus was still trying to suppress his shame, when he felt two delicate hands on his hips. He flinched slightly. "Hold it straight. You're bending to the left.", she explained gently.

Klaus quickly shifted his hips as he should and looked stubbornly at the mat. "Perfect." He heard the smile in her voice.

"And put it down. Very good. Go into plank and then transition to cobra or upward-looking dog."

She went on relaxed and corrected the contestants. Horangi was still laughing his head off.

Klaus just tried to breathe away his erection. For the rest of the lesson, he stubbornly looked at the floor and prayed that the time would pass more quickly.

Horangi put both their mats away as the teacher moved towards Klaus. His heart immediately raced.

"You live above me, don't you?" she asked cheerfully.

Klaus nodded quickly. Too quickly, he realized. "Uh... Yes."

She smiled. "Say, do you fancy going for a coffee or something?"

His heart skipped a beat. "Coffee? Uh? With you? The two of us?"

She laughed again. "Yes, both of us."

Klaus would have liked to slap himself. "Yes. Yes, that sounds... Yes."

"Okay. This afternoon? At three?"

Klaus nodded.

"Will you pick me up?", she winked teasingly.

A smile crept onto his face. "I hope I'm on time... Traffic."

She laughed. "See you later."

Klaus smiled and looked after her.

Horangi joined him. "You're the only guy I know who can kick a woman in the face and then get a date out of it."

Klaus looked down at him, annoyed. "You have to be over 6'3" for that."

Rudy

"Ow! OW!"

I jerked my upper body forward again and turned to Rudy, who was red-faced and pulling his legs to his chest.

"You said push." I tried to explain myself.

He just nodded. "And I made a mistake with that.",he whimpered.

"Are you okay?" I asked carefully and stroked his head.

Rudy put his head in my hand. "I'm just waiting for my adductor muscles to reattach to the bones."

I grinned and continued stroking his hair. "You really don't have to do this with me. You know that."

Rudy shook his head. "It was my idea."

Rudy had offered to get a little more involved in my yoga hobby and maybe practice a few couple yoga poses with me. Rudy was strong. He had proven that more than once. Many people underestimated him, but he simply had working muscles, not gym muscles. Unlike any man I'd ever been with, he just threw me into his arms and made me feel like I weighed as much as a squirrel. So he had fun holding me into the air, while I let myself fall into the poses, knowing he would always catch me.

Only the stretching exercises weren't his thing. We sat down with our backs to each other and our legs spread apart. First he leaned backwards and pushed me forwards. Then it was my turn. "Realy press yourself against my back.", he had said and then immediately yelped in pain.

"Are you sure everything's okay?"

He opened his eyes, which he had closed due to my stroking. "Everything is fine. I'm just stiff.", he winked.

I sighed. "Injuries are no joke, if-"

He reached for my free hand and squeezed it lightly. "Torn muscles and tendons feel different. Trust me." He grinned. "I'm just old."

I grinned. "At least it's good for the joints."

He nodded, still grinning. "Then we know what we can do together in the old people's home." He kissed me gently.

I smiled. "I'll get you stretched by then."

He laughed. "I'm counting on it."

[mediumgayitalian]

At around half past one, Nico gets a Feeling.

He gets feelings a lot. Nothing he can quantify, just something telling him that something is up, somethings wrong. Or something’s about to be. At this point, he’s learned to trust his intuition, based purely on the number of times it has saved his life; a number he’s long since given up counting. (He’s only ignored his gut feelings three times in his life: when Bianca went on her quest, when his father promised not to hurt Percy before the Titan War, and when he went looking for the Doors. He has learned his lesson.)

So when something at the bottom of his stomach tells him to get up, to check things out — he does.

He knows it could be nothing. (The last time he had a Feeling, it turned out that he had placed a book precariously on the edge of his desk, and it had been about to fall. Not exactly world-saving stuff.) But regardless, he steps out of bed, shoves his feet into his shoes, and creeps out of his cabin.

Camp is kind of beautiful at night.

There’s an eerie calmness to it without so many human disasters running about, and the quiet reflects that. All Nico can really hear is the hooting of owls in the distance, the chittering of nocturnal animals and monsters alike, the distant screeches of curfew harpies, and the pleasant crashing of the waves. The air is clean, when he inhales, and he takes the time to hold it in his lungs for a bit, imagining the sweet breath is healing his burned lungs, turning the scar tissue back to something flexible and normal. Whether or not it actually works, he doesn’t know, but it feels nice.

Under the light of the brightly shining new moon and billions of stars, he starts his patrol. Around his own cabin first — there’s nothing, as he expected, the warning doesn’t seem overwhelming like threats tend to be — and then he makes his way around the circuit, checking behind gardens and shrines and inside braziers. He hums quietly as he walks, something preppy and bright the Apollo kids have been hollering for days, and waves to Lady Hestia, sword heavy at his waist.

“Come sit,” she calls, patting the seat next to her.

Nico does.

“Haven’t seen you out at night in a while.”

He hums, toneless this time, leaning back on his hands and mirroring her gaze at the sky.

“Been sleeping, for once.”

“I’m glad.”

He smiles, knowing that she means it. He watches out of the corner of his eye as she picks up his sword, sliding it from his belt loop, and uses it to stoke the flames. She doesn’t seem afraid of it, or wary. To her it’s just a stick of metal. It’s nice.

“You have you been, my Lady?”

She pokes at the embers a few more times, scooping a few to balance at the tip of the blade for a while. It glows with the heat, and he knows he’ll have to sharpen it tomorrow, but he doesn’t mind. Maybe he can do it while Will is in the archery range. It’ll give him an excuse to be at the armoury at the same time, anyway.

“I’ve been well.” She breathes deeply, small smile pulling at her face. “It’s calmer, and more people wave to me. I like it.”

“Good.”

She dismisses him a few minutes later, sending him off with a promise to chat again soon. She doesn’t need to worry about him promising — he makes a point to sit with her at least once a week — but it’s nice to know someone wants his company, so he appreciates it. He leaves with a wave, walking towards the eastern half of the cabins.

Nothing’s amiss. He can hear campers snoring, and see the odd reading light. Malcolm catches his eye as he walks past the Athena cabin and winks, sending a cheeky salute when he sees the sword held loosely in his hands. So far, everything seems fine. He’s beginning to think the Feeling might have simply been about Lady Hestia, so he decides to do one last check around the Big House and then head back.

Of course, that’s where the issue is.

The infirmary lights are always on. They’re dimmer in the night, more of a glow than anything, but there’s an extra brightness streaming out from the windows, and when Nico peeks inside, he sees Will, standing with his back turned at the nurse’s station.

He takes a moment to check his strength, making sure he has the energy for it — dinner last night was pho and he had three bowls, he most definitely does — and sinks into the shadows by the door. He materializes back in the little alcove by the bandage & wraps cabinet, lurking silently while he blinks the dizziness away.

The first thing he registers is soft singing.

He’s facing Will, now, and can see the glow coming from his hands, enveloping a bowl of some kind. He has both hands coated in some dusky pink substance, massaging and gently pounding it against the sides of the bowl, working it through with great care. As his voice gets higher, the glow gets brighter, fading as he dips lower. He sings something about hills and meadows and the breeze, about wing-song, about the sound of flower stems bending in the wind. For a while Nico stands, listening to the melodious ancient Greek, swaying with every pitch and hold. It’s captivating.

Will is almost haunting when he heals.

There’s a divinity in him — in all of them — but he glows when he sings. Not just his hands, and sometimes his head if he puts enough power in his words, but there’s an almost shimmer to the air around him, a shining warp. His skin gets clearer, and his hair goes more metallic, almost, like spun gold rather than blonde. His freckles make his skin into an inverse replica of the night sky, dark specks surrounded by bright empty between them. His long fingers pluck through bright strands of light like a harpist strums their chords; lightly, carefully, skillfully; like a braider weaves their hair. There’s an undeniable age to his magic, a practice that’s visibly replicated millions of times over thousands of years, as if every healer who has come before him links their arms with his, breathes their strength in his lungs. Sometimes, when he does something truly unbelievable, amazingly beyond reason, he flickers — his orange camp shirt fades into a white chiton, or long robes, or a white coat, or a blue tunic. Watching him heal is like watching the sunrise — breathtaking and unique, every time, but powerful in its cyclic archaism.

It takes Nico a long time to realise Will is swaying.

Snapped out of his trance, he begins to notice Will’s long, slow blinks, the unsteady way he stands, the weight he has leaned on the counter. Even his face looks plainly exhausted under the glow, face pillow-creased and eyes bruised, hair mussed, limbs leaden. Footsteps as silent as he can manage, Nico creeps over to the schedule posted by the door, scanning through the scrawled pen ink.

He curses quietly. Will is not supposed to be awake.

There are really only three people who can work the infirmary to its fully capacity, barring Chiron. Kayla, Austin, and Will are the only ones who can magically heal, as much as the volunteers are imperative, so when the camp is in full swing one of them must be stationed at all times. That’s how Will sets it up. A bit of a waste of time, he acknowledges, but Nico knows he has memorized every time a camper who should have been saved. He carries far too much guilt to ever let it happen again, as inconvenient as his rules may be.

Night shift, though, is a need-be basis. If the infirmary is as empty as it is right now, then there truly is no need to keep one of the three of them awake outside their circadian rhythm, staring at nothing. Instead, they take shifts in the on-call room — asleep, but prepared should anything go wrong, should a monster chase a new camper at an odd hour. It’s Will’s turn for on-call. It’s two in the morning. He should be asleep.

And, yet.

Nico recognizes the look in his eyes. There’s a — frailty, to them, a deep-seated, animalistic fear, one he recognises from the hours after his own night terrors. A single-minded panic that cannot be unseated in any logical way, cannot be comforted with any gentle hands.

Nico handles his fear with slashing swords and bruised knuckles. Will, he knows, handles his fear with obsessive, endless preparation.

Knowing full well nothing is going to drag him away from his focus bar actual cardiac arrest, Nico walks right by him. Will doesn’t move. He settles behind him in the old, creaky leather office chair, curling his legs under him and resting his head on the soft arm. He watches Will, watches the almost machine-like movement to his kneading arms, and falls back asleep to his humming.

———

“…Nico?”

He wakes up warm and a little cramped, in the same position he fell asleep. Sun is streaming on from the many issues, blocked from burning his eyes by Will’s hunched frame, facing towards him now, hands and shoulders shaking with equal violence.

“What time is it?”

His voice is croaky and wrecked from hours of singing. Nico is willing to bet his throat is burned as badly as his hands, cooked from non-stop, sun-borne glowing. The divinity that had emanated from him before has abandoned him and he looks young, lost.

“Early,” Nico says softly. He unfolds himself from the chair, stretching slightly — gods, he is going to ache today — and wraps a slow, careful hand around Will’s wrists. “Probably around six, if I have to guess.”

“I don’t remember waking up.”

“That’s okay.”

“I’m tired.”

“That’s okay.”

His breathing is heavy, laboured.

“I don’t —”

Nico squeezes gently. “It’s okay, Will.”

Will swallows and says nothing.

“Come on.”

Carefully, letting Will’s stiff joints set the pace, Nico guides him out of the infirmary. The sun shines brighter as soon as he steps outside, but he doesn’t seem to notice bar a tiny, almost imperceptible flinch at the change in lighting. Nico switches from holding his wrists to laying a hand on the small of his back, half-worried he’s going to fall over.

Luckily, he makes it to the Apollo Cabin upright, although the stairs take them a while. The hinges of the old screen door creak as Nico pushes it open, and he sees both Kayla and Austin, up and dressed, jump.

“…Will?” Kayla asks softly, eyebrows creased in concern. She walks over to him when he doesn’t answer, frozen still, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Will leans — almost hesitantly — into the touch. The same blankness from before clouds his eyes, although this time there’s less of the fear.

“Hey.” Nico walks over to stand in front of him, waiting patiently for him to meet his eyes. In the minutes it takes, he hears Austin pad over, standing opposite to Kayla, hands clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide what to do with them. “You think you can sleep?”

Will doesn’t answer verbally, but drifts after a moment to his bed. Nico follows, helping him out of his shoes and shirt. After a beat of hesitation, Austin hurries over, turning down Will’s sheets and helping him crawl in. Soft guitar music begins to play, and when Nico looks over Kayla is fiddling with the CD player, turning the dials carefully. Without much fanfare, Will’s eyes flutter closed, and his breathing slows to something deep and even. His twitching fingers still.

“I don’t think today’s an activity day,” Nico murmurs. “I checked up on him a while after midnight; he’d been at it for hours. He didn’t stop ‘til sunrise.”

Kayla rubs harshly at her eyes. “Fuck.”

“He’ll be okay,” Austin whispers. He runs a gentle knuckle over Will’s forehead, then turns his careful, imploring gaze to Nico. “You kept an eye on him?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Nico inclines his head. “Had a feeling.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Kayla admits. “He was —” She trails off, staring at something in the left half of the cabin — the empty half. “He was like this after the Titan War, too. I think he spoke maybe two words for the entirety of September.”

Nico almost can’t imagine it. The very thought of it makes something twinge in his chest, clench in his stomach.

“We’ll figure it out.” He nods, to convince himself as much as Kayla and Austin, who look to him with way more trust than he deserves. “We won’t let it — it won’t get that bad. We’ll help, and if we can’t figure it out we’ll get help. It won’t be as hard as last time.”

It won’t be as hard as last time because there won’t be twelve shrouds, Nico doesn’t say, but he doesn’t need to. Both Kayla and Austin nod, looking at their sleeping brother with firm resolution.

“This time, we’ll be there.”

[moriartyluver]

Can we get vampire william james moriarty x reader?🙏🏻

A/N: vampire liam is so 🛐 would let him suck my blood. Anyways, in honour of Halloween 🤭

Character(s): William James Moriarty x gn! reader

Prompt: Vampire William James Moriarty

Format: headcannons

Genre: miscellaneous/ mildly spicy

Warnings: blood, vampires, reader’s gender isn’t specified, mildly nsfw but it’s mostly me being silly. Vampires can see sunlight it just makes them feel a bit faint. Also they’re allergic to garlic but it doesn’t kill them for the sake of the fic

This man is so fine no matter what but as a vampire???? 🤭

When you first met, he wasn’t like Edward from twilight and trying not to devour you or something but you did attract his attention and smelt nice to him.

He was more attracted to your personality though, not so much the scent of your blood. Don’t get me wrong though, he’d love a bite but he’s a respectful gentleman and wouldn’t say that aloud.

He might keep an eye on your for a bit before you start courting, as a bat. You’d see this silly little bat appearing on your windowsill every night after your first meeting and all it does it watch you. Sometimes he watches you as you sleep considering vampires are a little nocturnal. I mean, he doesn’t sleep much anyways, vampire or not. And when a pretty girl is added to the equation? Yeah no chance.

He definitely has a very vampy appearance, but you don’t think much of it first, when you bump into the handsome stranger at a ball. He asks you to dance, so hesitant you might’ve assumed he was shy.

Dark red eyes and sharp teeth? Aswell as a very chiselled and slim face? Nah, just hot. Nothing to see here.

Obviously he charms you quickly, but before he can even bring up marriage (because that’s what you did back then when a girl was attractive. You asked to marry her after meeting her three times) , he doesn’t know whether to tell you the truth about his situation.

When he does, you don’t exactly care too much. Is it even a flaw at this point? Regardless, you still love him because it’s William fucking Moriarty, who wouldn’t?

Anyways, when you are in a relationship, whether it be betrothed or married, he tried to force a distance between the two of you, out of fear he may lose control and kill you

If he wants your blood, he won’t ask and try to survive off animals, but honestly, if you matched his freak, you might just offer your neck up.

It takes some convincing but he eventually gives in to his impulses and sucks a decent amount of blood out of your neck (wow that’s hot)

I feel like he’d be afraid of what would happen to him after you die. He’s immortal, and you aren’t. You might offer to change, but he doesn’t want to curse you with becoming a vampire.

I can imagine a sort of meeting in every life thing, with Liam. Like as if you keep getting reincarnated, he finds you every time, and then you eventually die.

He might decide to be selfish and let you be immortal with him, after all those times of having to watch you die whilst he continues to love you. It’s more worth it in his eyes to make you suffer with him than continue to watch you suffer for the rest of eternity. That’s when he finally turns you into a vampire. And you never get bored of him.

[intothegenshinworld]

Fate’s Destiny ~ Chapter 11 || Four people, one destiny

You somehow, not being able to explain it, had fallen into the Genshin world you know oh-so-well. You were no new player and had explored most of the nooks and crannies of the world. When you first had woken up in Windrise you wondered; it might be a dream, after all, you were behind your screen usually, and now- here? It made no sense, and the world was keen on keeping it that way.

Warnings: Spoilers for main story.

Word count: 2.7k+

Auteurs note: My health is worsening. This chapter has been prewritten and queued in advance because of it. I hope you can enjoy it

↺ PREVIOUS CHAPTER || ↻ NEXT CHAPTER || MASTERLIST

A resounding crash jolts you from your slumber. It’s not a sound you’d expect to hear in the middle of the night, nor is it something you can pass on to your imagination, and so it plunges your mind into a primal fight-or-flight.

Without a second thought, your body jumps up from the sleeping bag, ready to combat the suspecting intruder. When the moment passes, you realize there never was one. Silence fills the night once more until you hear Lumine call your name, gentle concern lingering in her voice. 

You blink your eyes to adjust to the darkness. A few meters ahead of camp, you see branches stacked in a pyramid formation, set ablaze to keep its company safe and warm. Around it, comfortably on the grass, sits Lumine. She faces camp, and although the shadows obscure her expression, her body is visibly relaxed.  

“Are you alright,” Lumine’s voice, a mere whisper, breaks the night's silence. “Did you have a nightmare?”

You look around the area. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. The world is quiet aside from the occasional winds brushing against the ruins and trees. Even the nocturnal animals and insects seemed absent in this moment.

As you remain unsure of what had awoken you, the person next to Lumine causes concern. “Who is that?”

The stranger is facing away from you and towards the fire. He has to turn his upper body to look at you. Once he does, you‘re able to make out his blonde hair and dark clothes. Half of his face remains hidden—an eyepatch, maybe? And the only thing that stands out is his cape full of shimmering stars. 

While an unsuspecting party member isn’t your favorite way of waking up, Lumine’s relaxed composure makes you feel safe. You move to sit upright more comfortably in the sleeping bag.

“I apologize if either of us stirred you.” Lumine turns her head to the stranger, gesturing at him. “We happened to run into each other and we decided to catch up.”

The stranger lightly nods his head in your direction, now turning around to properly face you. “My name is Dainsleif. We have met before.” 

Your first memories in Windrise appear vividly in your mind. The soft zephyr brushing against your cheeks, the crystal butterflies, Dainsleif.

Then, in Mondstadt, another muddled memory. You recall talking with him, but the topic of conversation is no longer clear to you. He appears to be more focused this time. His eyebrows furrow together and his lips are pulled in a thin line, leaving you to guess how he felt at that moment. 

Another memory breaks free. You remember the cape on his shoulders, and trying to dip your hands into the fabric, wanting to break the stars free. You recall how safe it made you feel when the world started to turn dark, unlike the night, and more like nothingness.

Dainsleif turns his head away from you. With his new position, you only see the back of his head and the black side of his cape. Your mind leaps from side to side, making sense out of nothing and confusing the things that once made sense. Up is down, down is up, under is right, up is wrong. 

You furrow your eyebrows. 

“Who?”

Lumine turns her head to the male next to her. She lifts her shoulders before they fall again. The night hides her face but you notice the change in her expression. She normally seems so neutral, calm, and put-together—but now her eyes seem to scream at you.

You hear the male, Dainsleif–why is that name so familiar—whisper something before Lumine replies in the same hushed manner. Then, the stranger stands up. Without a goodbye, the mysterious man walks away. The further he goes, the more he blends in with the darkness of the night. 

You look at Lumine.

Her voice is gentle as ever, “Try to get some more sleep,” but her eyes scream louder and louder. Something is telling you to run. “I’ll protect you throughout the night,” she says.

You move your eyes towards the darkness once more. 

What had awoken you again?

You decided to listen to Lumine. 

Peacefully, you let your world succumb to the same darkness that swallowed you whole so many times before. The distant crackling of the fire lulls you to sleep and casts a protective warmth over you, though, it might have been Lumine who made you feel this safe—even with the increasing darkness.

Sunlight cuts through the white clouds in the blue sky and paints the ground with warm hues. Yesterday, the start of your journey to Mondstadt started with your departure from Liyue’s main city. You had set out towards Guili Plains, but with your current pace, and the fact you’d been avoiding the main roads, it’d take a few more days before your arrival. 

Right now, you are making the final preparations for your second day on the roads. Up till now you hadn’t encountered anything noteworthy. Hilllichurl camps seemed sparse, there were little to none adventurers present in the wilderness, and the animals seemed more absent-minded—not bothering to run when Lumine had been hunting for dinner.

Perhaps it was a stroke of good luck after misfortune. Perhaps it was the calm before the storm.

You weren’t going to wait to find out which of the two it’d be.

“Good morning!” Paimon greets you with a warm smile, only to cross her arms right after. “Wait a minute, Paimon thinks you look tired. Did you get any sleep?” 

She accusingly points at you, which makes you laugh in the process. “Really? I slept like a rock. It’s as if I caught up to all those restless nights from before, I’m feeling better than ever.”

Paimon hums, not attempting to argue back. You sling your bag over your shoulders as you stand up. Without a mirror it’s hard to check your appearance, however, you don’t doubt that the little pixie began to see what you’ve been seeing the past few weeks. Even at this very moment when you stretch out your bare hands, you seem to fade away. 

You pull your cloak over your head, turning to look at the pixie. “Have you seen Lumine yet?” 

She makes a stressed sound. “She went out to check the surroundings, to make sure everything is safe for Paimon and you, but… she hasn’t returned yet.” 

The little pixie turns her head towards the treeline, whispering below her breath how it shouldn’t take much longer, no doubt a bit worried about Lumine’s delay.

“Oh, Paimon forgot to ask.” She turns her body back to you, “Did you end up reading the book that Paimon and Lumine bought for you in Liyue?”

The bag begins to feel heavier at the mention of the book. Your hand instinctively moves over, and when you graze over the fabric, you feel the item within. When you fish it out, a heavy book yells out the contents of the story through a title. 

‘The Divine Creator’s Demise & the End of Teyvat’

Paimon’s smile falls into an agonized frown, her eyes casted onto the cover. The picture appears to represent the Creator, you, with a star-hilted sword in the back. It gives you an unsettling feeling.

You are quick to force it back into the bag, safe and out of view. “I don’t think I’ve read it yet. It’s been quite hectic, even when it was just me and the gnosis in the inn.”

“Paimon understands. When you first asked for a book, Paimon and Lumine were surprised to only find such a dark one. They should make happier stories for The Creator, y’know!”

You try to recall the moment when you asked for a book. However, nothing comes to mind.

You get ready to defend your past actions but you are interrupted by a familiar voice calling out both your and Paimon’s name. From the treeline, Lumine appears with a stranger by her side. When the two stop in front of you, Paimon puts her arms on her hips. The pixie is quick to recognize the man, calling him by his name, to which he responds with a curt greeting. When Paimon doesn’t further react to it, you realize that they must be well acquainted. 

Your eyes inspect the stranger whom Paimon called ‘Dainsleif’. 

His outfit consists of a black jacket with blue details, a grey vest, and black pants. He seems to be wearing black armored gloves and boots, but you’re not too sure about that since the right side of his outfit was laced with a blue veiny pattern. And while his outfit already made him an easily recognizable figure, his cape seemed to catch all your attention. The stranger’s black cape had a beautiful starry, space-patterned interior that seemed to reflect the night sky, shimmering and dancing behind him. 

Something like that, you’re bound to remember. The way the small stars shimmer and fade, even with the daylight blinding them, has you mesmerized. After a small moment you look over at Lumine for guidance.

“This is Dainsleif,” when Lumine mentions his name, the male offers another nod in your direction. “He felt your aura. That’s how we encountered each other. He offered to join us while we head towards Mondstadt, but only if you’re okay with it.”

An uncanny sense of familiarity wafts over you. “Join us?” 

Paimon floats closer and clings to your arm. “Dainsleif might not seem approachable at first, but Paimon knows we can trust him. After all, he helped us with finding the Adepti.” she quickly adds to it, “Plus, he knows a looot of things. He might be helpful to you as well!”

You take another look at him. He appears a bit stiff, but not in a threatening way. He genuinely seems to have no idea what to say or do. An understandable thing, considering you were The Creator. “I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance in this world.” 

“As am I,” you reply. You’re surprised at how easy the words fall out of your mouth. While you’re not thrilled to have a stranger join you on your journeys, you put your trust in Lumine and Paimon’s judgment. “So we’re all going to Mondstadt together?”

Lumine puts one of her hands on her hip while shifting her weight onto one foot. “With the help of Dainsleif, we could once again use the main roads. If you’re exposed to people who are unable to sense your aura we might land in a troubling situation, but considering how slow our current journey has been, I’m willing to take a chance.”

“Paimon thinks it’s a great idea. We can travel on the road during the day, and set camp further away!” The pixie exclaims her idea with pride. 

You think about the proposition. The gnosis concealed by your cloak is no longer a cause for worry. Ever since you set out towards Mondstadt, it stopped glowing. While its lack of power caused concern, you no longer needed to worry about someone seeing the light it usually radiated. 

Furthermore, on multiple occasions, your cloak had proven sufficient capability of hiding your face. With Dainsleif traveling alongside you, your group had grown big enough for everyone to feel confident with your current camouflage. Unless another aura-sensitive person showed up, you’d go unnoticed.

You can’t help the way your lips curl upwards with excitement. “Sounds like a plan.”

Paimon cheers, floating a little higher as she kicks her feet in the air. While both Lumine and Dainsleif remained neutral, you sensed something different from the latter. He kept looking around him as if he was busy with something else and absent from the conversation. 

You’ve only known him for a few minutes, so you’re unsure if this is another part of his ‘not approachable’ appearance. Thus, you decide to not comment on it. 

When his eyes land on yours, you notice the star-shaped pupil. 

It reminds you of Kaeya.

Paimon’s snores during her evening nap are enough to keep you distracted from your book. 

When you finally decide to stand up for a fresh breath of air outside of camp, you’re met with the sight of Dainsleif well on his way to start a fire. He sits on a fallen tree trunk, having found the perfect spot for everyone to sit once Lumine returns with dinner. 

While sitting, he throws another log onto the pyramid of already burning ones, carefully nurturing the fire until it crackles loudly and has enough fuel to last the entire night. 

He is clearly a step ahead of you and Paimon. The latter had fallen asleep once you finished setting camp with her, and then yourself, gazing in stupor at the new companion with a book in hand.

For a moment longer, you observe his actions. 

His cape flutters behind him onto the grass, the stars within fluttering with each movement he makes. For the first time, he averts his attention from the fire. You instinctively follow his gaze. 

Dainsleif’s blue eyes turn from the treelines, towards the open field with the makeshift camp, until they land on you. Eye to eye, you stand still in your place until you decide to give him a wave. He hesitates but ultimately sends an equally awkward wave back into your direction. 

While the interaction could’ve gone better, it’d be even more embarrassing if you were to turn back to camp, so you approach him.

“Can I sit next to you? Paimon fell asleep after we finished making camp and she snores too loud for me to read.” You lift the item in your hand as you approach him, the cover shining brightly; ‘The Divine Creator: world walker’.

"An interesting title. I did not expect that ‘The Creator’ would read stories about themselves, much less any praising ones." His tone remains the same but his words seem to silently tease you, acting as if he’d known you for a longer time. You smile, sitting yourself next to him at a comfortable distance. You’re close enough for it to seem friendly but far enough for it not to be awkward. 

"It's a study read. I can't sit idle while everyone is working hard to regain my memories. And who knows? I might look like a self-centered god but maybe the book will have answers," you respond.

His eyes stay focused on you. "What makes you confident that the contents are all factual and not made up?" 

When he sees you raise an eyebrow and open your mouth to defend yourself, he adds, "Here is another question. How can you be certain that you are, in fact, 'The Creator' without any memories to support it? Have you ever entertained the idea that ‘The Creator’, as a concept, never existed prior to your arrival?”

Despite the outlandish question, you find yourself trying to answer his questions. After all, your lack of memories have been raising doubts. A troubled sigh leaves your lips when you realize that they have from the moment you entered Mondstadt, up till this very moment. And while he was right on the fact that you’d never be able to confirm anything without your memories, it’d be absurd to doubt the many people who do have memories of you, right?

The fire in front of you dances as thin strands of smoke twirl around. Above the horizon, the sunset was slowly merging from bright colors into a solid dark blue. You’d lose the light to read fast, but you feel like you’ll get more answers from Dainsleif than anywhere else. And thus, you entertain his thoughts.

"If the creator didn't exist before my arrival, it's another thing I won't be able to confirm without my memories. Regardless of what is and what is not true, I have to continue forward—trying to find my memories as I do." You look at Dainsleif, resolve filling your mind as you grow more confident about your past choices. "I will go to Mondstadt, and I will find out the truth. Furthermore, I’ll accept that truth as it is, with or without me being ‘The Creator’."

Dainsleif's lips curl upward for a split second. The moment is so fleeting that you doubt it ever happened at all. You do notice how his shoulder relaxes. Dainsleif lets out a breath that feels like a burden he'd been carrying for a while. Then he turns to the fire once more, poking the stick in his hands against the charred ones. 

He speaks to you, "Then it'll be my pleasure to accompany you once more, so-called creator of ours."

If you liked this chapter and think I deserve a comment, please leave one behind! I appreciate it a lot and it'll make me more motivated to write in the future ♡

© intothegenshinworld. Do not copy, repost, translate or take heavy inspiration from my content. Thanks for reading.

[rebelliousstories]

Favorite Feeling

Relationship: Edward Sheffield x Reader

Fandom: Nocturnal Animals

Request: Yes by @thebasementgirl

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 830

Masterlist: Here

Jake Gyllenhaal & Co. Masterlist: Here

Summary: After a long and hard day, Edward’s favorite thing is the cuddles on the couch with a movie and a bowl of ice cream.

“Honey! I’m home!” Edward called, setting his coat on the hanger by the door. He heard shuffling inside the small home, but it warmed his heart to hear it. Soon, a figure came out from the kitchen, wearing an apron and a smile.

“Hi baby! How was the meeting?” The woman questioned as she wrapped him in a bear hug. Edward leaned into her embrace and took a moment to inhale the scent of her perfume and shampoo.

“It went amazing. They really liked the new book and now we’re in the process of printing copies. And I owe that all to you, honey.” Edward leaned back, keeping the woman in his arms, and dropped his head down to capture a kiss from her. His wife pressed her lips against his more, while her arms squeezed him tighter. Unfortunately, the couple had to come up for air at some point, and she took that as her cue to lead her husband into the kitchen.

“Well, tell me all about it. I’m proud of you, Edward. Really proud.” She once again busied herself around the kitchen, and placed the final touches on dinner.

“Well, my editor finally got my final copy to me last night. He was suppose to have it for me a few days ago, but I’m just glad I had it before my meeting this afternoon. Anyways, publishers loved the premise, and offered me ten thousand copies immediately which was nice. We’ve still gotta talk more stable numbers but, it’s a start. How was your day, honey?” He shifted in his seat and rested his forearms on the table in front of him.

“Hmm, what did I do today? I honestly felt like I haven’t done much, to be entirely honest. Got a little bit of laundry done. Which reminds me, your favorite shirt is back in its spot.” Edward’s smile got instantly wider at the thought that his favorite shirt was back in its spot in their closet.

“Umm… what else? Oh, I finally finished my painting. But I can’t show you until it’s cured. But yeah, I’m super excited. Got a couple online orders done, but other than that, it’s been kind of a lazy day.” Finally, she placed a big bowl of pasta in front of Edward. He muttered a quiet thank you, before she bent done to place a kiss on his head. That was one of her favorite things about the man: his hair. It was perfect in every way to her, and she loved to take a deep breath with her nose buried in it. Grabbing her own bowl and a plate of cheesy garlic bread, the Sheffield’s, husband and wife, tucked in for dinner.

It wasn’t too long until they found themselves on the couch after a long chat over dinner. The bowl of vanilla ice cream sat in front of them on the coffee table as they passed the spoon back and forth. She was tucked underneath his arm, and kept trying to burrow deeper into Edward’s side. The man chuckled softly as his wife tried to move further into his side.

“Honey, if you dig any deeper, we’d be in the same body.” He said humorously.

“That’s fine by me. Then we’re always together.” She chuckled back, causing the man to laugh even more. He pulled her closer, and dropped a kiss to her forehead. The sweet gesture made her relax fully. Edward leaned forward and stole another bite of the sweet and creamy treat, but quickly refilled the spoon when his lover opened her mouth in acceptance. But when he went to grab another bite of ice cream, he noticed that it was all gone. She pouted next to him but neither one made any effort to get up and get more. Leaning forward, she grabbed the remote and turned on a random movie on some random channel.

The movie didn’t matter so much in that moment as the moment did. The tranquility of laying in their lover’s arms after a long day. Silence surrounded them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The comfort of knowing that their spouse was there was enough to fill the void of talking. A dead weight fell on Edward’s chest, and a wholesome sight greeted him below. His wife had fallen asleep on him, in the middle of the random movie. This was it. This is what he had always wanted out of his marriage. Someone to love him and support him, and yes, even sometimes falling asleep right before their usual bedtime. Someone for him to pick up and carry to the bedroom after turning the TV off. Someone to gently tuck into bed next to him, and watch with a full heart as she slept peacefully. Someone to fill his head with the most beautiful images to make his dreams, and ink in his novels.

Yes, this was what he always wanted out of life. Of marriage. This was his favorite feeling.

[talonabraxas]

Owl Witch Talon Abraxas

Hecate and Owls: Ancient Symbols of Wisdom and Mystery

In ancient mythology, Hecate, the Greek goddess of magic, crossroads, and the night, holds a mysterious and revered place. Often depicted as a triple goddess, with three faces representing the maiden, mother, and crone, Hecate is associated with the unseen realms, the moon, and the mystical forces of nature. One of the animals closely linked to this enigmatic deity is the owl, a creature that has captivated human imagination for centuries.

Owls have long been regarded as symbols of wisdom, intuition, and the ability to see beyond the veil of darkness. Their nocturnal habits and keen nocturnal vision have earned them a place in various cultures as messengers between the mortal and spirit worlds. In many ancient societies, owls were believed to be companions of goddesses associated with magic and wisdom, including Hecate.

The connection between Hecate and owls is deeply rooted in the symbolism they share. Owls’ nocturnal nature and their ability to navigate through darkness align with Hecate’s role as the goddess of the night and the underworld. The owl’s piercing gaze, often depicted as penetrating and all-knowing, mirrors the goddess’s wisdom and her ability to see through illusions. Additionally, both Hecate and owls are associated with crossroads, places where choices are made and where paths intersect, symbolizing the liminal spaces between worlds.

In ancient Greek literature, Hecate is often accompanied by a retinue of owls, reinforcing the bond between the goddess and these wise birds. Some stories even describe her sending owls as messengers to guide and protect individuals in their journeys through the darkness of life.

The image of Hecate and owls has persisted through history, inspiring art, literature, and spiritual practices. Even today, many modern practitioners of various magical traditions invoke Hecate’s guidance and the wisdom of owls in their rituals and meditations.

As symbols of mystery and enlightenment, Hecate and owls continue to intrigue and inspire, reminding us of the vastness of knowledge hidden within the shadows and the importance of seeking wisdom in the darkest corners of existence. Their timeless connection serves as a reminder that understanding and embracing the unknown can lead us to greater depths of insight and self-awareness. Just as Hecate guides travelers through the crossroads of life, owls illuminate our paths through the mysteries of the world, inviting us to embrace the magic that surrounds us.

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 3: I Can't Stop You Putting Roots In My Dreamland

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan Author's Note: this chapter does talk about sex with the husband, which isn’t non consensual, but it also isn’t something the reader actually wants, doing it more out of obligation than anything. also chapters will probably start to be longer and therefore take longer to write <3 Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay Chapter List

You rarely smoked. 

The only time you did was after you and Hans were intimate. He would roll over onto his side, asleep, and you would get up from the bed, wrapping your robe around you and heading outside to the front porch, sitting right on the top stair. 

It was comforting to you, because you imagined the flame and smoke from the cigarette would burn the remnants of him from your body. 

You felt them in your pocket, the promise of temporary relief calling to you like a siren. You ignored them, choosing to listen to the sounds of the woods around you. The crickets sang, the frogs croaked, and you heard the chattering of nocturnal animals as they found food for the night. Everything was so peaceful, so why couldn’t you stop yourself from feeling so tense?

It had been two days since the trip into Rhodes. Hans had stayed in his office for most of that time, only coming out to eat and sleep. But as was typical before leaving on trips, Hans wanted you, so you obliged him. 

Sex with Hans felt like a task, no passion between the two of you. He treated it like he treated his business: efficiently. There was no foreplay, no lingering touches, nothing. It was just straight to the point, and done as soon as it started, which came as a relief to you. The less time you had to spend doing it with him, the better. 

However, as much as it shamed you to admit it, your thoughts had not been of Hans during the moment. Instead of cold gray eyes traveling down your body, you imagined they were a certain shade of blue. Instead of pallid skin, you imagined it was tanned, roughened from years in the suns. And when Hans’ hands did touch you, you imagined they were strong and broad, calloused yet gentle. You’d be a liar if you said it didn’t make it easier. 

Disgusted with yourself, you ran a hand down your face, slumping forward where you sat on the stair. Cold air dug into your skin, and you tightened your robe further around your body. The silk felt nice against your skin, but it did nothing to protect against the elements. 

You were about to fish the pack out of your pocket, but the sound of hoofbeats had you perking your head up, eyes focusing on the small path in front of you. Emerging from the shadows was a man on horseback, lantern in one hand that lit up the side of his face. It took you a second to register who it was, not quite believing your eyes at first. 

“Arthur?” You called out. Not only could you not escape from him in your thoughts, but here he was in reality. Not that you minded, but of course the timing had to be terrible. 

He responded with a noise of affirmation, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “What’re you doin’ here? It’s very late.” You knew it was somewhere between nine and ten at night, which is a little late for visitors. “Don’t tell me you’re here to try and rob me again.”

Arthur audibly sighed, shaking his head as he dismounted his horse. “You ain’t ever gonna let that go, are you?” You watched as he secured the reins around a nearby tree before making his way over to you.

“Never,” you laughed, and despite your better judgment, you scooted over to the side to give Arthur room to sit. You patted the stair when he got to the porch, and he sat down next to you. The scent of tobacco and gunpowder wafted over you, and you felt his jacket covered arm brush yours, causing you to shiver.

It was at that point you remembered you were only wearing your undergarments underneath, and you tightened the robe even more around your body, both because of self awareness and the temperature. 

Wordlessly, you felt Arthur shift, taking his jacket and draping it across your shoulders. The outside material of the jacket had been rough, but the inside was lined with a soft pelt, warmed by Arthur’s body. The addicting scent was even stronger now, causing your head to spin, and you resisted the urge to bury your face into it. “You’ll catch your death out here,” he said disapprovingly. You just chuckled in response. 

“What’re you doin’ out here, anyway?” You heard him ask, and you shrugged. 

“I could ask you the same question.” You watched him out of the corner of your eye, and he sighed. 

“Leigh was worried ‘bout the ‘issue’ you’d been having, with the break-ins. He wanted me to come out ‘ere and make sure everythin’ is good.” He laughed lightly, and you felt his eyes on you. “Now will you answer me?”

Finally, you pulled out the pack, holding it gently in your hands. Glancing up at Arthur, he seemed surprised. “Didn’t strike me as the type who smoked,” he commented.

“I rarely do.” You pulled out one of the cigarettes from the pack, placing it gently between your lips. Pulling out your lighter, it took a few too many tries before the spark caught, and you lit the end of it. Taking a long drag, you wordlessly offered Arthur one from the pack.

He accepted it, placing it between his own plush lips, and you shifted closer to light it. Except this time, no matter how many times you tried, the spark wouldn’t catch, and you could hear Arthur chuckle as you grew more and more frustrated. “Piece of shit,” you grumbled, “I keep forgettin’ to buy a new one.”

You tried it a few more times before giving up, shoving it angrily back into your robe. “Sorry,” you grumbled, guilty eying the unlit cigarette that hung from his mouth.

“Can I try somethin’?” Arthur asked, and it piqued your curiosity, so you nodded. “C’mere.” Arthur gestured for you to move closer to him, which you did. The man practically radiated heat, you noticed, and your cold body wanted nothing more than to wrap around him. 

Your brain stopped functioning when you felt him gently grasp your chin with gloved fingers, keeping your head still, but not tight enough to keep you locked there. He leaned forward like he was going to kiss you, but he instead pressed the end of his cigarette against yours. “Inhale,” he instructed, and you watched the end of yours glow with red embers as you did, which ignited his.

He pulled away then, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary, and you were certain he could feel the way your heart hammered. “Resourceful,” you muttered, and Athur laughed, smoke spilling from his open mouth. You couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the light, but his cheeks were a shade darker than they were moments ago.

“Somethin’ like that. I think ‘desperate’ is the right word, though.” Arthur leaned back on one of his arms, the other moving the cigarette to and from his lips. “Haven’t had a good cigarette in a while.” 

Without even thinking about it, you extended the pack of them for him to take, and you watched him switch his attention from the pack to you. “Take it,” you demanded, shaking it gently when he didn’t budge. “I got plenty of them.”

“I appreciate it, but-”

“Just take the damn thing!” You giggled, practically pressing it against his chest, yet he still made no move to grab it. With a quirk of your brow that said really?, you tucked the pack into one of the various pockets of the coat around your shoulders. 

Arthur shook his head with a mix of defeat and amusement, and even in the low light you could see that smile that made you weak. “You’re stubborn.”

“First I’m strange, and now I’m stubborn. Got any other s words you wanna call me?” 

“I can think of a few.” Arthur had begun to lean near you as you spoke, but you watched his eyes flick down to where a ring sat on your hand and he pulled away. “But none of which I should say to a married woman.”

Right. Holding back a sigh of disappointment, you felt the jacket begin to slip from your shoulders, and you swore you saw Arthur’s arm move to fix it before stopping himself. Securing it back around, you took a final drag from your cigarette before stomping it out with your shoe, then kicking the butt under the porch once it had cooled some.

“Are you busy the next couple of weeks?” You asked, not really knowing what you were saying. 

“I’ve got some things. Why?”

“Oh, nevermind.” You immediately felt silly for even bringing it up.

“You sure?”

“Well…” you took a breath. “Hans is gonna be gone for the next week or two, and you especially know how easy it is to get in here,” you gestured to the house, and Arthur shook his head again. “I guess what I’m tryin’ to ask is if you’d swing by every couple of days? Just to make sure nothin’ has happened? I’ll sleep better knowing there's someone out there who keepin’ an eye on things. And I’ll pay,” you tagged on, and Arthur brought the cigarette back up to his lips, almost contemplative. 

You totally weren’t trying to come up with a reason to see him more. 

“Just every couple of days?”

You nodded. “You don’t even gotta talk to me or anythin’. I’ll leave the money somewhere secure and you can just grab it.”

“And if I wanna talk to you?” Arthur’s voice was surprisingly faint, like someone would if they didn’t have complete confidence in what they were saying. 

Cherishing the knowledge that he didn’t dislike your presence, you couldn’t help the small smile as you responded. “Well, I’ll be around.”

Arthur hummed in response, and he took one final drag until he was stomping it out, kicking it under the porch like you did. The two of you sat in silence after that, simply taking in the serenity of the nighttime forest. Arthur titled his head back, eyes locked on to the forest, and the moonlight graced his features. Why did he look even more gorgeous at night? Pale white light highlighted the angles of his face, his high cheeks, the crook of his nose. You were able to make out a scar along the bridge of his nose, and another on his chin. You wondered if the rest of his body was marked that way.

You hadn’t realized you’d been staring at him until he turned his attention on you, and you couldn’t tell if he was amused or concerned. “You alright there?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you quickly responded. “Just tired.” Whether Arthur believed you, you’d never know. 

“Let’s get you inside, then,” Arthur replied, slowly standing up from the step. You almost wanted to grab his hand and pull him back down, not wanting this little moment to end. But that familiar feeling of guilt returned, and so you let the moment go, dissipating in the air like the smoke of your cigarettes. 

Arthur helped you up, escorting you to your front door with a hand barely not touching your back. You slid the jacket off your body, giving it back to him with a soft thank you. After draping it around one of his arms, he held the door open for you. You were about to step in when you heard him murmur your name. “Have a good night, darlin’.”

“Because of you, it is.” You beamed at him, before ducking into the dimly-lit house. A few seconds later, you heard the door latch shut, and the sound of receding hoofbeats a few minutes after. 

You gave yourself a moment to calm your racing heart, fanning your face to try and alleviate the heat in your cheeks. You were giddy and felt lighter than a feather. Like the last time, you felt like your real self had broken free, if not for a moment. That taste of freedom was delicious, and it was addicting. 

But with that freedom came guilt, and you were screaming at yourself in your head, every nasty word under the sun aimed directly at you in your mind. Married or not, you shouldn’t be letting an almost stranger sit that close to you, let him drape his jacket over you, let him hold your face so gently.

You shouldn’t be reacting this way. 

You shouldn’t be torturing yourself by getting close to him. 

You shouldn’t be getting close to him.

There were so many things you shouldn’t be doing, but you knew you couldn’t stop now. You needed more.

Sighing, you slowly began to make your way upstairs, the stairs creaking with each step. You headed into the washroom that wasn’t attached to your bedroom, this one located across the hall a ways down from where Hans was currently asleep. Washing the remnants of smoke from your body, you dared to glance at yourself in the mirror.

Sure, nothing has changed too drastically since you got married, your face still practically the same. But a deep weariness had made itself at home in your eyes. Your eyes, once filled with wonder and joy at the world, had turned dull, much like Hans’. They seemed to have sunken in more, like the life from your body was being sucked from your body. 

Anger boiled your blood, tears threatening to flow as you stared at the husk of yourself in the mirror. You were angry at your family for marrying you off. You were angry at Hans for agreeing to marry you. You were angry at the world for thinking it was okay.

And you were angry at Arthur for breaking into your house and setting off this chain of events in your mind. 

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. This marriage needed to happen, you told yourself, and it provided some small comfort, but it didn’t ease the sense of betrayal. And you shouldn’t be mad at Arthur, because it wasn’t his fault. You just wanted someone to blame for your treachery. Wiping down your hands, you were sure to avoid looking at yourself in the mirror again as you left.

Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom, the familiar sight of Hans’ form beneath the covers causing a lump to form in your throat. Quickly slipping off the robe, you replaced it with a nightgown before joining him under the covers. 

The comforting smell of Arthur still clung to your skin, lulling you to sleep, your dreams interrupted with visions of him. It was the best sleep you’d gotten in a long time.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The sunlight woke you up, beams interrupting your slumber instead of the voice of your husband. 

Sitting up, you placed your hand on the other side of your bed, and you felt it was cold. A smile grew across your face, an almost child-like giddiness bubbling inside of you. He was gone.

You quickly got out of bed, immediately heading to the closet to get dressed, not wanting to waste any of the precious time you had alone. You had no idea what you were going to do, but you were going to savor every moment. You had glanced at the clock on the way over, and you were surprised to see that you’d slept in until ten.

You decided on a thin, flowy skirt and a light blouse, something that would let you move with ease. As you got dressed, a familiar piece of paper caught your eye, tucked in the drawer containing your socks hastily. You picked up the little thank you note that Arthur had given to you, looking over it fondly. It was such a small gesture, but it meant everything to you. 

Tucking it back, you left your closet, heading down the stairs. Even the house seemed happier, sunlight streaming into the windows, and you opened some of them, letting wind clear away the stagnant air. You made yourself a quick breakfast, an assortment of fruits and some bread, cleaning the dishes once you were done. 

You now sat at the dining table, contemplating what you were going to do. Your options were quite limited, as the only way to travel from the house was the carriage, but that was gone. Hans didn’t keep horses, finding the creatures disgusting, leaving you stranded at the house. 

That wasn’t to say you didn't have a way of getting to places. If you really needed to, the main road wasn’t far, about a five minute walk on foot. If you waited long enough, someone would come by with a carriage, and you could ask to hop on. More often than not, they would accept, and you were always sure to hand them a couple of bills for their troubles. It was dangerous, and probably quite stupid, but you enjoyed the thrill of it all. 

But you weren’t in the mood to travel in the city, especially this early, where everyone would be able to clearly see who you were. You slumped back in the chair. Now that the novelty of being alone had worn off, the persistent loneliness was no longer covered up, making you slump even further into your chair.

It was then you finally remembered your little project you’d been working on for some time: your garden. You quickly left the house, a newfound energy in your step as you traveled along the makeshift path you’d made with your steps.Your skirts caught on various plants and sticks, but it didn’t deter you, and you made it to your garden in no time. 

It wasn’t much of a garden, to be completely honest with yourself. Fallen trees stacked up against one side, blocking it from view from the house. You hadn't tended to it for some time, and it showed. All six of your planters were handmade, made from various sticks and planks you’d found scattered about, and you noticed that they were all spilling out their precious dirt, the wood long since rotted. Also, weeds and vines and overgrowth covered over the delicate plants you’d raised, and you made a sad noise. You hoped they weren’t all dead. 

Digging through the thick growth, your fears were confirmed when instead of bright green, you were met with wilted brown. They weren’t anything special, just a few herbs and small vegetables that you’d grown from the remnants of produce you’d used for supper. Still, it was something you’d poured yourself into, and you couldn’t help the way your shoulders sagged, energy wilted just like the plants. 

You were about to move the weeds back over, when from the pile of dead plants, a sliver of fresh green caught your eye. Investigating further, you found a cluster of small growth of thyme and mint, baby sprouts, but still able to become something greater. A victorious laugh left you, and you eagerly began tearing away the invasive greenery, your energy returned.

It took a while, but eventually you’d uncovered everything, the dead plants pulled out, leaving the few remaining live ones in the unstable dirt. Before you could move them, though. you’d have to make new planters. The rest of the day you spent gathering various sticks, planks, and pieces of bark, creating a substantial pile in the garden.

By the time night came around, you were exhausted, covered in dirt and sweat, but surprisingly content. You bathed and, no matter how much you wanted to stay up and wait to see if Arthur would stop by, you went to bed. You said every couple of days, not every night, for God’s sake. 

The next day was spent working on the planters, taking many breaks inside. It took too many tires for you to make one that would stay together, but by the end of the night you’d made one. 

The third day arrived, and you worked again on the planters. It was the end of the third night when you heard hoofbeats come down your road, and you felt your heart beat excitedly. You were still close to the house, so you were able to hear Arthur call out your name. “Over here!” You responded, but you doubted he could see you because your back was pressed against the stack of fallen logs, blocking you from view from the house. “In the woods!”

It took a few moments, but you eventually heard branches crack and leaves rustle, as well as the light noise of his spurs. “Hello, Arthur,” you turned your head back to greet the man as he approached your side. “I’ll get your payment in a moment, just let me finish this.”

You turned back to the planter in your lap, and you saw out of the corner of your eye as Arthur crouched down next to you, watching what you were doing with an unreadable expression. “What’s all this?” He asked as you tied a knot of the rope, testing the stability of the planter with a tug. When it held, you smiled proudly. Another one done. 

“This,” you gestured around you, “is my garden. And this,” you pointed to the now finished planter, “is one of the last planters I need to make before I replace all the old ones.”

“Odd place for a garden,” Arthur noted, standing up again. Again, he helped you up, and you smiled gratefully at him. He wasn’t wearing gloves this time, and you were able to feel the rough skin on yours. 

“I know,” you replied, wiping dirt from your hands on your skirt. “But it ain’t like I got any other place for it.”

“Whaddya mean? You’ve got a whole empty lawn,” he said with disbelief, and you shook your head.

“I guess I mean I can’t. I ain’t even supposed to have this.”

“You… can’t?”

“It ain’t ‘ladylike or proper’ to keep a garden, apparently,” you scoffed, and began to make your way back to the house. “C’mon, let’s get you your money.”

A part of you hoped that he wouldn’t just take the money and leave as you walked back toward the house, but you wouldn’t blame him if he did. The two of you idly chatted, you leading the way back, Arthur not far behind. 

Looking back as you talked, you were able to appreciate him visually as you kept eye contact. He had the same red button up on  from earlier in the week, sleeves rolled up at the elbow, and the top two buttons undone. He had forgone the bandana around his neck entirely today, and you were thankful for it. He kept his hands on his gunbelt as he walked, the act far more enticing than it should be. You had to move your eyes before you could begin to stare. 

Reaching the house, Arthur held the door open for you, hesitantly following in after you. It was strange, seeing Arthur in your house properly. He looked very out of place, the antiquated decorations of high society a harsh contrast of the rugged outdoorsman. 

“I’m gonna go grab the money, so make yourself at home. And,” you pointed to his boots, “take those off. You tracked mud in my kitchen last time.”

He held his hands up defensively. “My apologies,” he chuckled, but he complied, setting his boots next to your shoes. It was almost familiar, seeing your shoes next to his, and a pang of longing for a life you’d never had or will have tore through your chest. 

Heading upstairs, you pushed those feelings away as you entered your bedroom. Reaching under the bed, you grabbed the lockbox you kept stashed, hidden between the mattress and the frame, setting it on your bed. Opening it, you grabbed a few bills from it, totalling to about five dollars. You pulled from your own personal money, not wanting Hans to question why he was suddenly down a bit of money when he returned. Tucking it back under, you hurriedly made your way back downstairs to Arthur.  

He hadn’t sat down yet. Instead, you watched as he traveled around the living room, examining the various photographs that decorated the shelves and the mantle of the fireplace. He was frowning as he looked over your and Hans’ wedding photo, but he broke his gaze from them as you stood next to him. “Here,” you handed him the money. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he murmured, taking the bills gently, putting them away in one of his pockets. 

The two of you stood in silence after that. You weren’t quite sure what to say. A part of you wanted to invite him to stay for a drink, but that was risky, pushing to something less than proper. He took the framed wedding photo into his hands, and the both of you observed it.

You looked like a spooked deer in the photo, your eyes wide and staring into the camera. Hans had his arm linked in yours, and it was the only time you’d seen him smile, even though it was forced. The dress you were wearing was a poofy mess of fabric and ribbon, and you remembered how much it itched your skin.

“The dress is ugly, I know,” you joke, getting a chuckle from the man. “I’d never choose to wear somethin’ like that.”

“It seems like you don’t got a choice in a lot of things,” you heard him mutter, more to himself than anything. You couldn’t bring yourself to disagree with him; it was obvious you’d be lying. 

Arthur set the frame back on the fireplace mantle, and when his hand returned to his side, you felt it brush against yours, but a little too hard to be accidental. It was a simple yet comforting touch, and for a moment that loneliness tormenting you eased. 

But just as it came, it left, Arthur taking a few steps away from you. Turning your head to watch him, you felt disappointment overwhelm you. “I-” he cleared his throat. “I have to go.” 

“Okay,” you whispered as he got his boots back on. 

His mouth opened and shut as he struggled to formulate words, and he ended up just sighing. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.”

Nodding, you turned your attention back to the photo, not wanting him to see the sadness in your eyes. You heard the door latch shut, and like your shoes by the door, you were now alone.

You stayed inside for the rest of the night.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The next day arrived, and with it came rain. Lots of it.

It pounded against the roof of your house, and you found the sound of it comforting, distracting you from your miserable thoughts. Because of that, you spent most of the day in the attic cleaning, where you could feel the rain if you pressed your hand against the roof.

The following day was a clear one, not a single cloud in the sky. You finished up the planters, arranging them how you liked. You rewarded yourself with a long soak in the bath, spending nearly an hour in the tub. 

For both of those days, your mind kept wandering to Arthur, but not on the reason you thought it would. You kept going back to his comment about how you didn’t have a choice in a lot of things. In the back of your mind, you always knew that, but to hear it out loud, it had been staggering. 

You didn’t let yourself think about it for too long, however. The sacrifice of your own choice in life was a necessary one, you told yourself, and itIt was selfish of you to want otherwise. Your family would be out on the street if it wasn’t for you, and besides, you should be grateful for the life Hans has provided for you.

So why was it so hard to convince yourself to believe your thoughts?

You dreamed that night, for the first time in a while. It wasn’t anything crazy, but it still had you gasping when you woke. It was a domestic scene, and you were in the kitchen making breakfast. A sleep-laden Arthur came into the scene, brown hair tousled and in his face. He wrapped his arms around your body, bare chest pressing into your back, and he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck. It felt so real, and you swore you could feel the scratch of his beard on your neck when you woke. 

Getting out of bed the next day had been a struggle. You angrily grumbled at the birds as they taunted you with their lighthearted music, and you debated rolling over a smashing a pillow over your head and going back to sleep. 

Eventually, you managed to leave the bed, getting dressed and eating breakfast like you’d done in all the previous days. The monotony was getting boring, but there wasn’t anything you could do about that. 

Today you worked on filling the planters with dirt, and it took a surprising amount of time to find some that wasn’t too rocky or too muddy, and of course it had to be a significant walk from the planters. All you had to transport the dirt was a small shovel that you stored in a hollow trunk nearby, and you spent the day carrying each precious shovelful across the forest

By the time early evening rolled around, you were exhausted, your hands cramping and shoulders aching from the shovel, but you now had six planters filled with dirt, and the baby sprouts placed in each one. The dirt was still damp enough from the rainfall earlier, so you didn’t have to worry about watering today.

Leaning your back against the fallen trunks, you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of the warm sun rays against your skin. The birds sounded less taunting than they did in the morning, and you let yourself get lost in their songs.

So lost, in fact, that you failed to notice when they stopped, spooked by the sound of a voice and footfalls. You jumped when your name was said rather loudly beside you, your eyes snapping open and staring at the creator of the sound. 

A concerned Arthur stood above you, hand extended like he was about to shake your shoulder. “Oh, hello Arthur,” you grinned up at him.

“You scared me there,” he half-laughed, pulling you to your feet. “I’ve been callin’ your name for a while now.”

“Well, as you can see,” you brushed your hands on your skirt, “I’m still very much alive.” You were afraid that the tense ending of your last interaction would’ve carried over to today, but you’re glad it didn’t. “So, whaddya think?” You gestured to your garden. 

“It’s… cute.”

“Cute?” You scoffed. “You mean to tell me I’ve been working all day for the last week just for it to be cute? You insult me, Arthur.”

Arthur laughed, and that damn smile adorned his lips. Looking away, you felt your cheeks warm.

“I left the money at the house again. C’mon.” 

The walk back to the house was short, like always, and Arthur asked you about the plants you were growing. You explained to him the way you’d found them earlier in the week, recalling the small little sprouts you’d found. 

“Plants are incredible in that way. No matter what the world throws at them, no matter what conditions they’re met with, they always seem to just… come back. Their resilience is incredible!” Looking back at Arthur, he was watching you with an indiscernible expression. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get all poetic there.”

“Don’t apologize,” Arthur shook his head. “I like that, though. Reminds me of someone I know.”

“Oh? Who?” You were genuinely curious, wanting to know more about Arthur and the people he associated with. 

“There’s this amazin’ woman, who, no matter what anyone tells her or what society deems is right, does what she wants, does what makes her happy. And when she gets dragged down, I’ve seen her bounce right back up, ready to take on the world.”

“Maybe you’re the poetic one,” you teased. “She sounds like someone I want to meet.”

You missed the look that Arthur gave you, like he couldn’t believe you weren’t catching on. “I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

Eventually the two of you came into the house, and Arthur lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right back, then you’ll be good to go.” You turned to head up the stairs, but you halted. “Unless…” Don’t you dare. “Unless you want to stay for dinner?” 

When he didn’t respond, you panicked a little. “You don’t have to, I just figured cause it’s almost dinnertime, you’d like somethin’ to eat.” Silence. “You know what, forget I said anythin’,” you looked away, embarrassed, and resumed entering the house. 

“You’re spoilin’ me, darlin’,” Arthur laughed breathlessly with a smile. 

“Is that a yes?”

He nodded, and a relieved but genuine smile fell on your lips. “You know where the living room is,” you laughed, toeing off your shoes. Arthur did the same, setting his boot next to yours again, and he made his way to the living room as you went upstairs. 

The process of grabbing the money was no different this time, and you were about to head back downstairs when you caught a glimpse of yourself in one of the mirrors in the bedroom.

Dirt streaked across your face from where you had wiped away sweat, and your clothes were in no better shape. Embarrassment once again overcame you, the ideals that had been ingrained into your brain for years making you feel so. No woman of your standing should be playing in the dirt, then inviting people into her home while covered in it. 

You quickly changed clothes, then headed into the en suite bathroom to wash down your face and body, even go so far as to fix up your hair, pulling out any debris that got caught in it. Satisfied, you headed back downstairs to Arthur, who sat on one of the various couches. He had taken his hat off, setting it next to him, and you watched him run his hands through it. 

“It wasn’t very nice of you to not tell me I was covered in dirt,” was what you said as you approached him, holding out the bills for him. “Sorry that it took so long.”

Arthur just chuckled, standing up in front of you, leaving his hat behind. He took the bills from you with a thankful nod of his head, tucking them into his pocket. “You missed a spot,” he said as he tucked the money away.

“Really?” You began to wipe at your face, frowning when Arthur began to laugh. “Where?”

“Here,” he muttered, and you felt two hands gently wrap around your wrists, tugging them away from your face. Releasing one, he used the pad of his thumb to wipe at your cheek, the rest of his hand resting on your jaw. His cerulean eyes flicked across your face, like he was trying to memorize the details of it, the curve of your cheek, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips. “There,” he whispered, running the thumb across again for good measure before dropping his hand. 

Arthur stared at you for a moment, like even he couldn’t quite believe what he’d done. All thoughts went out the window, your mind and legs jelly. He took a step back, giving an appropriate amount of room between the two of you. Don’t leave, you were pleading in your head. “I-I’ll get started on dinner,” you stammer out. “If you’d like to get washed up, the bathroom’s upstairs, first door on the left.”

He nodded, taking a few more steps back. “I’ll be right back, then.” And with that, he turned up the stairs, leaving you stunned, alone, in the living room. You ran your fingers over where his hand had just been, and you laughed with shock and delight. You expected to feel guilt, and you did, but it was heavily muffled by the sheer joy radiating in your chest. 

The sound of water rushing through the pipes of the house broke you out of your daze, your hand returning to your side. Right. Dinner. 

Despite the tiredness you felt from hauling dirt everywhere the entire day, you felt energized as you entered the kitchen. You weren’t going to make anything elaborate, mainly because you were starting to run low on supplies. You’d have to run to Rhodes sometime during the next week, using your own money, of course. 

Dinner was going to be two small steaks, with diced potatoes and grilled green beans. The smell of the food quickly permeated the kitchen, making your stomach grumble hungrily. Arthur emerged from the bathroom when dinner was over halfway done, startling you because you had your back to him, and because your mind was constantly distracted with thoughts of him. 

“That smells amazin’,” he commented, causing you to nearly drop the utensil you were using to flip the food. Turning, he held up his hands apologetically. 

“I should’ve had you keep your boots on. Your spurs are loud,” you grumbled lightheartedly. “How are you so quiet?” You kept having to turn your head to talk to him, so he walked up next to you at the stove.

“Years of practice,” Arthur responded, which didn’t clear anything up.

“Practice for what?” 

Arthur hesitated to speak, and you rolled your eyes. “Arthur, I caught you breakin’ into my house. If you’re a thief, just say it.”

“I ain’t a thief.” He replied defensively. 

“Sure, whatever you say. I just sure as hell know you ain’t a deputy.”

Arthur laughed. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“So why are you pretendin’ to be one?”

The man beside you sighed. “It’s a long story… and one I ain’t so sure I can tell yet.”

Silence fell over the two of you, the only sound the sizzling of food as it cooked. It was you who spoke first. “So who are you then, Arthur Morgan?”

Arthur didn’t respond at first, and you watched his struggle to come up with an answer. “I ain’t quite sure,” he finally said, uncertainty lacing his voice.

“You’re… not sure?”

He shrugged. “I’m a lot of things, I suppose. I guess I can’t just put it into one word."

“Alright, how ‘bout this then. Whenever you’re not here, what’re you doin’?”

“I… I’m workin’. Odd jobs and stuff like that.”

“Do those odd jobs include thievin’?”

Exasperated, Arthur  made a noise between a scoff and a chuckle. “I suppose it does. Houses, banks, trains. Whatever gets me money, I guess.”

Grinning at your small victory at his admission, you poked him lightly in the chest. “So you’re an outlaw then.”

“And if I am?”

It was your turn to shrug. “Doesn’t change anythin’, really.”

Arthur noticeably relaxed at your answer. “Good.”

“I’m assumin’ Dutch and Bill are outlaws too, then.”

“Jesus, woman, is this an interrogation?” You heard Arthur mutter, and you laughed. 

“Sorry, sorry, just curious.” Your gaze went back to the food, and you noticed that everything was almost done cooking. “Was I right though?”

“I… Yes.”

You hummed in response. Bill you were expecting, but the other man you weren’t. He looked like he belonged in high society with you, not living a life from the reaches of the law. Maybe appearances aren't always to be believed, then. “Thank you.”

Arthur raised a brow. “For?”

“Answering my questions. And not just brushing them off. Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Arthur responded, not expecting thanks for such a simple thing. “You need any help with this?” He gestured to the food on the stove. “I ain’t much of a cook, but if you need help…”

Never once in your marriage had Hans offered to help you as you cooked, even when you had to make large amounts for dinner parties or guests. A warm smile found its way on your face, and you shook your head. “I think I got it. It’s almost done, anyway. You wanna grab some plates for me?” You pointed to a nearby cupboard. 

“‘Course.” Arthur stepped away from you, fulfilling your request, and your eyes followed him as he moved across the kitchen. Just like the shoes by the door, something about this just felt right, even though everything in your brain was screaming that this was wrong. This domesticity, this familiarity, everything was wrong.

But damn if it didn’t feel good, like something you didn't know was missing inside of you had been returned. 

Arthur returned a few moments later with two plates in his hand, setting them on the counter beside you. You spoke as you began to lead the food onto it. “Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll bring the plates out shortly. Utensils are in the drawer there” You ended with a point. 

“You sure?”

You nodded. “Want anythin’ to drink?”

“Whatever you’re havin’.” Arthur’s voice was distant as he moved away toward the dining room. 

Wine, then. The plates were hot in your hands as you brought them out. Arthur sat at one end of the table, where Hans would sit, and you set it down in front of him. You faltered for a second as you debated where to set yours. Normally, you’d sit on the other end of the table, with four chairs of space between you and Hans, but you figured it would be rude to do that right now. Besides, the selfish part of you wanted to be as close to Arthur as you could.

Leaving a chair’s space, you set your plate down before returning to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine, which you opened, and two glasses. Arthur stood when you returned, pulling your chair out, pushing you in when you sat. “You sure you’re an outlaw?” You joked, pouring out two glasses of the red liquid.

“I’m certain.” He took the glass of wine from you once you offered it. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“Of course.” Picking up the utensils that Arthur had grabbed for the both of you, you both dug in. You kept an eye on Arthur as he took the first bite, feeling self conscious of your cooking. He stilled, mid-chew, and you immediately thought the worst. 

“Holy shit,” he muttered under his breath. You took a bite, and you thought it didn’t taste bad, but you were partial to your own cooking. “That’s really good.”

Oh. “I’m glad.” You tried to not sound overly relieved. 

Arthur took another bite, groaning appreciatively. You really did try not to memorize the sound of it. “This is the best thing I’ve tasted in a while.”

“Do I even want to know what you possibly could’ve been eating that makes this taste incredible.”

“Probably not,” Arthur admitted. 

The rest of dinner was filled with idle chat, until Arthur asked a question that had you stopping mid-bite, fork handing in the air. “This ain’t poisoned, right?” He asked it as a joke, but there was a hint of genuine worry in his eyes.

“I sure hope not,” you responded, finishing the bite. Arthur didn’t elaborate further, only responding with a small noise. “Well, you can’t just ask that and then not explain. Is… is that something that’s happened before?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Arthur chuckled humorlessly. “There’s a pig farm north of here I stopped by two weeks ago. Friendly couple invited me in, we shared a drink, and before I knew it I was wakin’ up in a muddy pit with my money gone.” 

You had stared at him, shocked, as he recounted his story. “You’re kiddin’?”

“I wish I was. Wasn’t the first person they’d done it to, either. You wanna know the worst thing?” Arthur asked, leaning into you. You nodded, leaning in as well. “The couple? They were brother and sister, and their mother was their first victim.”

You were horrified and intrigued all at the same time. “Brother and sister? Oh my God,” you shuddered. “Did you get your money back?” Arthur nodded. “There are some weird folks out there.”

“You meet plenty of ‘em when you’re on the road. I don’t think there’s enough time in the world to tell you ‘bout them.” 

At the mention of time, you glanced out one of the nearby windows, finding it nearly pitch black outside. Arthur glanced outside as well, an apologetic look on his face when his eyes went back on you. “You have to go, don’t you?”

“I’m ‘fraid so,” Arthur sighed. You were happy to see that his plate had been entirely cleared, and he finished off the last of the wine in his glass. Standing, you cleared the table, bringing the items over and setting them in the sink. Arthur followed in behind you, carrying the half-full bottle of wine.

“Thank you, again,” you heard Arthur say, and you waved him off.

“You don’t gotta keep thankin’ me, Arthur. It was truly my pleasure.”

“Do you need help cleain’-”

“Arthur! Go!” You laughed, shooing him away. “I got this.”

Conceding, he headed to the doorway, putting his shoes on. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hat on the couch, about to be left behind. Quickly grabbing it, you set it on his head as he was leaning forward, securing his shoes. He let out a confused noise, but he smiled when he realized what you’d done. Standing up back at full height, he secured it on, flashing you a smile. “How’d I look?” He jested, a playful glint in his eye.

Like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. “Like an outlaw,” you responded. “You just need a cigar or somethin’ and you’d really look like one.”

“That reminds me…” Arthur dug into a sachet strapped across his body. Once he found what he was looking for he presented it to you. It was a small silver lighter, which looked hilariously small in his hands. “Since your last one was a ‘piece of shit’, I figured you’d want a new one.”

“For me?” You asked and Arthur responded with a look that read uh, yeah?

“It ain’t much, I know-”

“Thank you!” You cut him off, beaming brightly at him. “It means a lot that you remembered.”

“Alright, well…” you watched as he rubbed the back of neck, not knowing how to respond to the praise, “have a good night, darlin’.”

“Stay safe, Arthur.”

With a final nod, Arthur left. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to laugh or cry, so you did neither, simply heading upstairs to your bedroom. Dishes could be done in the morning, you decided. 

Your mind raced as you got ready for the night. You knew he didn’t mean anything besides being nice with getting you the lighter, but it left your heart happy that someone not only listened to your grievances, small or large, and did something to fix them. 

Slipping under the sheets, you fiddled with it in your hands. You struck it, the spark catching almost immediately, creating a steady flame. Setting in on the nightstand beside you, you held on to the happiness you’d felt the entire night, and you fell asleep with a smile on your face.

You pretended to not feel a new sensation growing in your heart, something you wouldn’t dare name.

[hannah-louise-97]

COMFORT AFTER DARK 🌙

Just a small comfort story about Noa comforting an anxious reader, I hope you enjoy 🙊

You lay alone in your poorly made bed next to your campfire, listening to the sounds of night creatures in the trees. You had done this every night and usually found it to be fine to fall asleep to, but for some reason, tonight, you're far from tired. On edge and on red alert every time you hear a slight noise. Even the sound of an owl calling above your head makes you flinch in panic.

As you pull the blanket closer to your face, you feel your body begin to tremble from nervousness, your eyes darting in all different directions as you lay there, the nocturnal animals seeming to play tricks on you, their calls and rustling sounding louder than usual.

The sound of a birds wings flapping in the trees above you causes you to cover your head with your tattered blanket and peak through one of the holes, an attempt at trying hard to calm your anxiety, but it just makes it worse, deciding that needing to see completely around you with your peripheral vision is a must.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, you curse under your breath, wondering why, out of all the nights you have stayed out in the forest, why is tonight the only night you feel this way?

Movement in the corner of your eye sparks up your senses completely, making you dart upright in your bed. Looking around quickly and squinting your eyes to see better, you see a large black figure slowly walking towards you. Gasping and closing your eyes tightly, you hope that you're just overtired, and it's just your imagination messing with you, but as you reopen your eyes, you see the figure still stepping closer.

You sit in silence as your chest heaves up and down with your rapid breaths, moving your blanket further up your face. You get the urge to call out and ask what on earth they’re doing here but you daren’t, you know that the way you’re feeling will only make it worse so instead you quickly lean over and take out the knife from your bag.

Clenching the knife in front of you with trembling hands as the figure finally gets close enough for you to see it’s face, you realise that it’s a young chimpanzee. He doesn’t look too threatening compared to some of the other animals you’ve seen wander onto your path, in fact, he looks curious, sniffing the air and wrinkling his nose, but you still struggle to trust that he won’t attack you there and then.

Staring at him, you continue to point the knife at him, finally mustering up the courage to speak with narrowed eyes “I- I’m warning you” but your words come out more like a trembling whisper rather than threatening.

The chimpanzee looks at you and raises and eyebrow with what seems like confusion “I will... not hurt” his voice comes out as a soft rasp whilst he looks around your camp “I was climbing... and saw your fire” he pauses to look at you “I am... Noa”.

You nod slowly, quite shocked at how docile he seems, but not taking your eyes away from him as he sits down next to you and faces towards the fire, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees.

“you should not... be out here alone” he turns to you, his eyes reflecting the orange glow from the flames.

You continue to grip onto your knife tightly, still pointing it at him, your eyes staying wide as your adrenaline continues to coarse through you. In some ways you’re quite liking that you’re not alone anymore but you’re certainly not willing to take any chances at this point.

The chimpanzee looks at your knife and tilts his head. Rolling his eyes and opening his arms to signal his innocence “I will not hurt... I saw you scared... and wanted to see... if you were okay” he looks at you with a raised brow “I can leave... if makes you... feel better?” the tone of his question comes out as though taunting you.

You hesitantly lower the knife, realising that maybe he really isn’t a threat to you at all, and tone honest, you do like how he makes you feel a little safer “N- No... you can stay”. You stutter, feeling your nerves begin to subside. The thought that someone, albeit an evolved chimpanzee was now sitting with you and no longer left to deal with your anxiety alone, you begin to feel a little more at ease.

Noa relaxes his posture and looks at you, his lips curling into a slight smile “how long... have you been... out here alone?” he moves his hands, signing with his question.

You look at him timidly, still a little on edge “my whole life” letting out a sigh and leaning back against a tree, you want to get to know this Noa a little bit more but you just end up smiling back at him and stuttering “I- I guess It’s nice to not be on my own anymore”

Noa lets out a soft grunt “I will stay... as long as... you need-... dangerous out here... alone” he looks back at the fire and frowns, wrinkling his nose while motioning to the dying flames “more wood-... needs more wood” standing up slowly, he is clearly cautious, not wanting to make you feel threatened again.

You grip onto the blanket and pull it back up near your face as you watch the chimp gather pieces of wood from around your camp and throw some of it onto the small fire.

“flames were... fading” he mumbles as he sits back down next to you, a little closer this time “but this... will last a while” he taps the wood that he has put beside him.

You narrow your eyes and raise a brow with curiosity but pretend you didn’t notice him sitting purposely closer to you, staring at the dancing flames, your body still trembling ever so slightly while your nerves continuing to slowly wear off.

He turns to you “I sometimes... find it hard to sleep” he signed with his words and motioned to the trees “went out for a climb... and saw your camp... got me curious”

Moving your knees to your chest and hugging them, you let out a small yawn and look at the ground “I don’t know why, but I’ve felt progressively nervous tonight” you glance up and see him looking at you.

“You need... comfort?” his hands do subtle movements along with his question.

You look at him, too nervous to say yes.

Noa hesitates for a moment then rests his weight on his knuckles to slowly move closer to your body. still being careful not to startle you. He sees you flinching away at first, causing him to pause his movements, but as you feel the warmth of his body next to you, and his fur brushing against the bare skin on the part of your shoulder you didn’t realise was uncovered until now, you end up involuntarily leaning into him, welcoming the physical touch that your body craved tonight.

You let out a quiet sigh of satisfaction as you feel him wrap his arms around you and gently put one of his hands on the back of your head, bringing you to lean into him. As you nuzzle into his chest, you hear his breathing as a slow steady rhythm, the motion of it relaxing you to finally close your eyes.

His words come out a quiet whisper against your hair as he rests his chin atop your head “it’s okay... you’re not alone now”.

[4-ustin]

The Outsiders Mythical Creature Headcanons. because i positively cannot keep this to myself any longer

[The Curtis Bros:]

-Centaurs (because I couldn't just NOT take that opprotunity)

-Their house is HUGE by human standards, but small by centaur standards

-(Edit: all the curtis brothers were gonna be 10 feet or taller but I reaslised how FUCKING MASSIVE 10 feet+ is)

Darry:

-his bottom half is a Clydesdale horse

-Darry is 7'5

-Still works in contruction, but tends to haul around heavy equipment more often than not

-Stomps on the ground really loud with his front hooves to get people's attention

-..Chest hair. Lots.

-Ties his tail up in a bun so it doesn't get in his way while hes working

-Socs tend not to mess with him cause he could buck them into next tuesday

Sodapop:

-his bottom half is a thuroughbred

-Sodapop is 7 feet tall

-Tends to work outside when at the DX because hes big and he likes it better outside

-a bit easier for socs to mess with, as long as you're in front of him

-prances and marches around all fruity (I know what you are, Sodapop.)

-his tail is his baby, he would die before messing it up

Ponyboy:

-Bottom half is a paint horse

-Ponyboy is 6'3

-On the track team but Darry always tells him to "go easy" on the non-centaur kids (he only listens because he'd actually leave half the other kids in the dust)

-Trains for track like a madman, if he doesn't have something to do he's doing laps around the backyard (probably while reading, fuckin showoff)

-Socs find him easiest to pick on, but its still hard because you've gotta get him down before you can do shit

[The Greasers:]

Johnny:

-Merman/sea creature

-is able to breifly get out of the water but he doesn't really do it much because, well, he cant walk

-His scales kind of look like denim

-The scar on his cheek is actually from a fishing hook that accidentally got stuck there

-The others built a little river that connects to a pond next to the curtis house/barn so he could hang out with them, they probably mske him a stupid little fish tank inside the house that they can just carry him to

-sharp teeths :3

Dally:

-Vampire (but like, he can go in the sun and wear silver because vampire rules are lame)

-Red eyes in the dark, white in the sun

-Throws late night parties with any other nocturnal creatures he knows

-Usually drinks animal blood or eats raw meat in replacement of human blood (but if he gets his hands on human blood he wouldn't necesarily be upset..)

-knows ecolocation

Two-Bit:

-Gorgon/Medusa-like fucker

-Why? it's just a feeling, really. And Two-Bit seems like the type of guy to like snakes

-THE SNAKES ON HIS HEAD ARE RED CORNSNAKES AND YES HE'S NAMED ALL OF THEM.

-Blindfolded most of the time so he doesn't turn the others to stone, he can only imagine what the others look like, when Ponyboy wrote his essay (don't ask how johnny ran away and stabbed a kid without being able to walk, maybe it was a 'write a fictional story' essay instead of 'write about an expirience) he actually liked it a lot because it gave him an idea of what the others looked like

-Probably has a walking stick if he isn't helped around by other greasers

Steve:

-Half-minotaur/bull-human type hybrid

-Covered in piercings. It might just be a bull thing but he has earings, nose piercings, septum piercings, piercings on his chest and horns. Bro goes CRAZY

-The only person allowed to ride on Sodapop's back (for convinence, they say.)

-His mom was a human and his dad was a minotaur

-Stamps his feet in place when hes bored or irritated (like a child)

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Meet Lilith🌙✨

Made my own take on the Mighty Queen Lilith for fun! Ngl her designs one of my favs, aswell as the Helluva Boss succbui designs! I mixed them together!

I def wanted to show how she’s not just the first but most powerful succubus. I imagine as Queen of the Succbus she’d have the largest wings of them all aswell as biggest horns. I imagine Verosika looks up to her as an icon figure and tries to emulate her fashion! Also added a bit of night sky glimmer to it🌌 made her skin white as the glowing moon!🌙🌌

Gave her dress a gradient aswell as a slit to show off her legs and feet. I imagine she wears all kinds of different outfits.

Made her hair wavier, more volume! Also added some silver streaks.

Added gradient to her limbs. Was lowkey inspired by Milkymelodie’s song cover.

Gave her gold claws. I imagine they’re actually black like Charlie’s, jsut paints them gold for that glam⭐️👑⚜️

Wanted to make her look more similar to Charlie(perhaps Adam sees a lot of Lilith in her). Blonde hair, fangs, nose white skin, ears, claws etc.

Gave her dark eyes with white details. Like a night eclipse. She and the Goetia def share a connection to the moon ���

Gave her big hoop moon like earrings🌙🌙

Went for a mix of nocturnal animals and goats she’s usually redesigned as(apparently Lilith associated with snakes or shriek owls but goats also represent fertility which also symbolizes Lilith well). Went for lowkey Eda Harpy . Talon like claw nails, wild hair, bat like wings. A true creature of the night/moon and the wild, empowering feminine nature of it🌌🌖🦇🦉🐐

What do u think? How would u redesign Lilith? I’d love to know💖

I’ve done Charlie and the entire gang🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈 Also did Vox and even Mimzy 📺🐤