#or warm.... easy to get sick in spring

[plasticsandwich]

heartbroken keygirl sketch i did inbetween my reports

[uglygirltrying]

wolf-hybrid!simon x bunny-hybrid!reader | PT2 | pt1 | pt3 |

he did show you. it was so much warmer, than in your burrow.

it was easy to feel safe and warm enough, in his big arms, to eventually fall asleep. even if he was the hunter, your natural predator, you were basking in a warm hole, filled with his musk. your head went mush and fuzzy, eyes fluttering shut.

the wolf grinned and chuckled above you. what a silly bunny. your legs twitched, as you slowly went under. so compliant, no arguing when he took you, and you so easily went limp in his arms.

oh, you were going to be so much fun when the spring comes. maybe you'd be even more submissive, or on the other hand, maybe you'd get snappy. that'd be fun, simon thought.

he can already imagine the little bunny in heat, constantly rubbing against him, begging for a litter. if he feels nice, he might even give you one. simon smirks at the thought. such a sweet thing you are.

simon felt reluctant to leave. what if you ran? well, he would surely find you, after breathing your scent in so much. but still, it would be a lot of trouble, to track you, and catch you again. he didn't want to go through all of that trouble. he didn't want you to run.

simon signed. he had to find food. some meat for himself, and maybe some bark for you. but he knew that you didn't have a strong enough reason to stay. a warm den? you surely could find another one around. a mate? not really, he basically just snatched you up, against your will. maybe if you fought more, he would feel guilty. but this, this felt like a love story. he found you, brought you home, and here you are, sleeping in his den.

he did have time to linger and think. he did hunt best in the dark after all. simon breathed out again. whatever, he thought. you could run. he'd catch you, and bring you back. whatever.

simon sat up, leaving the bunny girl to lay there. he crawled out of the den, and made his way to the surface. the sun is setting, the rays creating shadows of the surrounding birch trees. the snowfall has stopped. it's so quiet and calm. the snow is beautifully set and hard surfaced, glistening in the light.

the wolf stood up, and began his search for food.

you felt disoriented. where were you? this isn't your burrow. your eyes slowly opened, drowsy, and confused. with a croaky groan, it hit you. where you were. why, and how.

you sniffed the air. the smell is so much lighter now. with a confused expression, you looked around the den. you're alone. huh?

why? where is he? is he hiding behind the opening, waiting to spook you and punish you, when you try to leave?

he's gone. it's your chance now. you can go, leave, run back home, to your burrow. the den is colder without his body pressed against you. it's almost as cold as your burrow. oh. it's warmer here. even without him.

it almost feels shameful to even hesitate leaving. you should! but you can't. you can't get yourself to crawl out and run for your life. how would he feel, coming back, into a empty den? a nest. that feels like an bad word. it's not your nest, not even your den. you're just... there.

why can't you leave? it's his fault, of course, he must've done something to you... are you feverish, why won't you run? maybe you're sick... running would only make that worse. and there's a perfectly good bed just under you.

you sighed. how pitiful. you laid back down. how embarrassing. but it felt so good, to just lay. don't you have a backbone? it would feel better if... it would be warmer. maybe even safer. if he was there. but is he even your protector. is this den a trap, why isn't he here?

thinking felt overwhelming. or maybe it was just the topic. but it felt exhausting. you should just not think. just lay there, and hope for his return. pathetic.

simon's hands were full of bark. he already ate his meal. he didn't want to bring anything bloody into the den, it would surely disturb you. if you even were still there.

simon scoffed. it's useless to assume. he doesn't know anything about you. maybe you're waiting behind the opening, a rock in hand, waiting for him to stick his head in, so you can punish him, for taking you.

he sniffed the air. nobody else is around. at least not around the hole in the hill. the snow's surface was untouched, not counting his own footprints. maybe you were still there. hopefully you were asleep. sweet, and compliant. maybe you were awake, desperately waiting for him to come back and keep you warm.

he almost smirked at his own fantasies. how silly. you already have him dreaming. oh, he is hooked, simon chuckled.

with hands full of bark, just for you, simon stood above the entrance of his den. might as well barge in. and so he did. simon crawled into his den. and there you were. still asleep. in his nest. the wolf felt proud. he kept you around. here he was, bringing you food, while you just slept. that's how it's meant to be.

simon dropped the bark in a corner of the den. he almost rushed. he wanted to cuddle up next to you, hold you in his arms, keep you warm, and protect you. at light speed, he had crawled next to you.

even in your sleepy state, he had managed to startle you. you're eyes narrowed open.

"go back to sleep, bun..." he softly murmured to you. with a tired nod of your head, you closed your eyes, and fell back asleep.

it made simon chuckle. you will never have a reason to complain again. you're his now, after all. his.

either this is my magnum opus, or im delusional ;( heart banner by @roseschoices

taglist: @famouscattale @nappingmoon @distinguishedprincesstrash @tame-the-lion-writes @s-a-v-a-n-a-34

[nausicaaandhermouth]

The Healer

masterlist

viktor x anhedonic!reader [1.4k][AO3]

cw: implied/referenced depression, suicide, suicidal ideation, self harm

summary: Anhedonia set in and the idea of exiting life's stage became all the more appealing. But you've heard about The Healer and perhaps he can save you.

tags: gn reader, S2 Viktor, post-Act 1, anhedonia, angst, depression, suicide, SI, SH, viktor gardening?, reader's just admiring him atp, not betad, not encouraging anybody to join any cult

a/n: idk if vik's abilities extends to making plants appear but for this pretend it does

if you're unfamiliar with what anhedonia is, it's a symptom of a larger condition (can be depression, bipolar, schizophrenia, more), characterised by the inability to experience physical and/or social pleasure. makes existing difficult, like you're dragging so much pointless weight and everything feels high effort, so what's the point.

just a brief description (based on what i've learnt from it in research and experience), so i encourage learning more to get it more in depth if it interests you or sounds too familiar.

You prayed for an easy coax out of the darkness.

The little home of scrap fabric and heartbroken brick you built throughout the years was becoming more and more dilapidated, though its original state had never been of full health to begin with. And like it, your body’s ridges became prominent, visited by unexplained bruises, warmed by the thickened hair on your skin, and yet living on had always been the only option you saw—no, the only option you allowed.

You’d breathed long enough to outlive many of those around you. Whether it was becoming grey-lunged corpses, enforcer punching bags, or a Promenade diver, everybody knew somebody who, sooner rather than later, knelt to kiss Death’s feet. Surrendered. Be it by their own or another’s will.

Then it fell upon you: the swole blanket of indifference, of apathy. It cloaked your mind, buried your defences that was defiance, which had been the only source of survival you’d had left. But snuffed out now.

And how easy it is to think of self-inflicted inexistence when it seems nothing else matters.

Oblivion would whisper in the corner, a demented, deformed dog snarling yet begging your hand’s comfort. Come to me. And you can’t find good reason as to why you shouldn’t.

This… healer—a man whose touch could gild any man’s sick and bestow him a new life, a new body, a new mind—you’re not sure when he arrived. But the whispers morphed to murmurs which morphed to rumours and unfolded itself into your side of the city’s underbelly.

Was he the answer to your prayer?

You made journey to the place you’d heard he’d made camp, and it unfurled before you and stole all expectation and put them to rest. Because for once, the Sumps had colour, had life.

At the centre stood a strange, globular… building? Just like stained glass, its surface was of mute Spring colours, translucent, swirling lattice-work reminiscent of butterfly wing patterns.

He’s a tall thing. A beautiful thing. His metal body cloaked, careful, and coded with grace. Each movement was deliberate, no gaze shared unintentional. How had he come to exist? How had this world birthed your people’s suffering but, as well, him?

You want to laugh at the sick irony. Whoever’s dealing the cards need their hands cut off.

“What ails you?” he asks, giving you such soft regarding you can’t help but be rendered speechless.

In truth, you’re not sure. Physically, you know you’re lacking, but so was everyone so why are you different? In your head there sits a temptress, attempting to lure you to the edge of buildings or blades, but she had no name. No one speaks of her.

The healer tilts his head, seeming to take a better look at you. He looks so kind. Such eyes, opalescent, have seen suffering, and you know it.

“Life,” you give a one-shouldered shrug, smiling. “I… I’m not actually… uh, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” you take a step back.

What had been the point of this? Attempt what? Healing? What’s this man to do?

“No,” he steps closer, his voice swathed in a strange mechanical whir. “Stay,”

You’re sure that by the furrowed desperation on you, it convinces something inside him, as he turns and beckons you with a nudge of his head. So you follow.

Each step he makes creates a heavy thunk beneath him, and though you don’t feel its impact, merely by sound you feel the weight of him. How had he acquired such a body? Modded fingers, let alone limbs, cost years of your wages—you can’t imagine how much his entire body might have cost.

“I can feel something plaguing you,” he begins, shifting slightly to catch a look of you.

You scoff but it doesn’t quite match your face.

“Then what brought you to me?” he shrugs and looks away, leading you to the side of the Sumps where a clear plain rolled out.

You watch as he kneels and reaches for the soil, taking it between metal fingers.

“I’m not sure,” you kneel beside him, shoulders bunching up. “What are you doing?”

He hums, smoothing the ground and creating indents, “I’m assessing,”

You lean forward, folding your arms and hanging your head to look at him.

The metal frames his face, just barely hidden by chestnut waves, curling beneath the jaw and around the ear.

He’s got a rather angular beauty to him, something belonging to scrutiny and studiosity. Even his strong brows follow theme, arched forward in a focused furrow, over narrowed eyes homing iridescent irises. You’re not sure if he’s from this world. Or if the world was gifted him.

Your attention trails back to his hand, and he digs his fingers beneath the soil. Then, hand glowing beneath the metallic muscles, the ground is imbued with a light, where then verdant stems spring alive.

You choke back a gasp, glancing about as the spindly bodies uncurl and reveal yellow petals. Roses?

Whipping back to him, you take note of the glow leaving his eyes, shock threading through your system.

When you glance back at the flowers, now surrounding the both of you, you can’t help but think: logically, how you might have reacted would be with pleasant surprise, glee, even.

Such occurrences, the arcane or a mere flower field, was a coveted sight, and without a doubt you would have felt the surge of optimism. But instead nothing happens. Instead it’s unmet anticipation and expectation sitting at your belly, pooling into grey disappointment.

It’s when you look back to the healer that you realise this disappointment must have shown on your face. He inclines his head so slightly, blinks, as if saying I understand. And he smiles. He smiles and it’s the gentlest thing ever given to you to hold and witness.

You want to crumple, to lay graves for your limbs and disassemble each part that ever dared to exist only to suffer. There used to be anger, and at the very least there was indignation. At topside for their neglect, your parents or finding each other, for finding something beyond the misery and creating you. Where had all such righteous resentment gone?

“Viktor,”

You look up to see the healer’s hand stretched out, asking for yours in return. And you oblige, shaking it gently, before pulling away only to be held with soft restraint.

“You are welcome to stay,” his voice becomes tender, becomes more human almost, aimed purely for your audience. “Even if what torments is not outright seen. I welcome all,”

Your breath comes out long, carrying with it the tired days in the dark. The healer… Viktor makes no acknowledgement of this but just another observant blink, the corners of his mouth slightly tightening.

“Wasn’t gonna die or anything,” you joke, flattening your lips and hoping it registers as a smile, however trying it may appear.

“Eh,” Viktor shrugs, turning his attention to your hand and turning it about as if trying to see new angles. “A slow death is still a death,”

This makes you frown. Why has he assumed? But why is he right?

“The slower it is, the more painful, I think,” he remarks, but he seems almost far away. “As you watch what is left of you wither, and all you can do is… hm, watch,”

Then you understand. Something in your chest tightens as you take in once again all this stranger is. “You’re well-acquainted,” you note, coming out barely as breath and observation, spoken clearer by the narrowing of your eyes than your own voice.

He looks at you again, and something’s changed. His eyes? It seems. There’s something more amber about them, more grounded in this singular hue. “My longest companion,”

You hum, nodding.

There’s a safety in knowing you’re understood, even if they’re not able to fix you. It cloaks you warmer than summer, than any consolation offered in pity—he understands. And perhaps not the very same that brandishes you, but in some aspect he knows.

Which is what makes you ask, “Can you fix me?”

His eyes resume that pearl sheen once again and you’re mesmerised, gaze flitting between each eye in deep investigation—tell me who you are, how you are; tell me how you’ll fix me. Like the field around, the sweet sunshine hues of the roses, to make your land more than just barren.

And he does. He raises his other hand, uncurling, coming to hover by your face. “May I?”

You breath sweeps back in and you nod, leaning forward and connecting his cold fingers to your cheek.

He notes you for a moment, saying nothing, doing nothing. It’s his gaze that makes you feel naked, removed of any pretence crafted carefully. But he shifts his attention and his fingers connected with your forehead, eyes overtaken by a white glow.

Your vision drowns in the white.

a/n anhedonia's been hitting me and this is the only thing i could muster to make so here we gooo. not my favourite, feel like i could've done it better but oh well, least i made something wahooyaaa writing is coping after all 🫵🏼😃🗣️

requests + taglist open!

[this is a reupload, i have no idea why the original post disappeared :''')]

[bnuuys-writing]

Overblot Yuu! (Reader)

Hi guys! Here's the first part to that idea of Yuu overblotting! It is going to be an X Reader! Poll ends in 4 hrs but I wanted to get a head start on it! Considering I have so many votes casted in currently, I might as well make this into a series! But whoever wins first will get the first chapter! Anyway, hope you enjoy!!

-Bunny Out!

This isn't how you imagined how you'd turn out to be. This isn't you. Yet, how could you turn away from this wonderful feeling of something you were denied in this world? The coursing through your veins, the power at your fingertips, the energy swelling within you—

Magic.

———

Spring was coming up, the frosty air was slowly becoming warmer and warmer as sprouts of flowers began to appear. Grass over the courtyards were losing their morning jack frost more and more every day. Soon, finals were going to come up and summer recess would start. Everyone would go home, spend time with family, friends, loved ones.

Everyone but you.

Standing in the courtyard, eyes glazed over as you couldn't help but stare at the morning gym class soaring in the sky. Ortho, who you could tell by his jets and his broom leaving a white streak in the sky as airplanes would back in your homeland. Twirling and playing around with Epel, Deuce, Ace, and Jack, Sebek only tailed along just to reprimand them on proper technique and form of flying on a broomstick. All of your friends but you.

Taking a large inhale through your nose, slowly exhaling it as your eyes closed ever so slightly as your gaze turned from your magically soaring friends to your breath. This was unfair. Everything was unfair. Headmage Crowley still not finding your way home, all your friends will leave you here at the school just to see their friends and families again back in their homes, yet you couldn't go back to yours. All the while knowing after Malleus’ overblot, there hadn't been any sightings or starting of anyone else beginning to overblot.

Grim rested upon your shoulders, his breath coming out easy and slow as he peeked one eye out at you, a small yowl coming from his mouth as he yawned and stretched.

“Nyah, henchman, why have we stopped? It is still cold outside. Shouldn't we be heading to class?” He whined out, cuddling closer to you under your scarf to better stave himself off from the cold. To lean closer to your overwhelming body heat. You fogged over eyes slowly trailed out from the sky where you lost sight of your friends behind some clouds down to the pesky direbeast resting on your shoulder. You felt unnaturally warm in the cold weather, yet you couldn't be getting sick— Not with finals being so close by. You couldn't risk missing one lecture of a world you didn't know and having your grades tank and you fail.

“Sorry about that Grim, I was just observing our friends in the sky.” You mumbled out, the concoction of medicines coursing through your veins of all allergy relievers, cough drops in your pocket and a warm direbeast upon your neck to prevent a migraine from forming.

Grim, in turn, only seemed to frown at hearing the longing within your voice.

“If you want to go flying! You can always ask me, your magically gifted and future best sorcerer of all time!” Grim shouted out loudly into your ear on accident, causing it to begin ringing as you smiled weakly at your companion. Of course, you could always ask. There were plenty of others who were more capable of flying than Grim but you wished you could just do it on your own.

“I'll have to take you up on that offer sometime, Grim.” You hummed out, clearing your throat ever so slightly as you began to finish your trek into your first class with Grim.

Potionology.

Certainly this should've been one of the easier classes, right? Memorizing potions, pouring things into mixtures to get certain elements and components right before adding more in to get different effects, just like chemistry lab back home for you, right?! Well, when you looked at the ingredient lists, you could barely understand at least half of what the requirements were, and most of the time that was just what beaker you needed and if you needed a stirring stick. The newts, apparently there were more than just one. Direroots were hard to cut for you due to them beginning to scream if cut improperly. 

You were sure Professor Crewel was just ready to stop you from attending classes if it weren't from little nudges of your lab partner across the table helping you. Although most of your potions went wrong either due to Grim overheating it, Deuce fighting with Ace, or you just simply were unable to fully grasp the material. 

Then led onto your next class, History.

This should've been easier, right?! Its just more of memorization, pinpointing certain times and dates and their most important. Yet, that was impossible as you learned more about the different countries on the many different continents. For all the points of history had major significant events happening all at the same time. 

The Queendom of Roses beheading of the first King, all the while in the Savannah, the true king found himself home in order to take back the throne from his wicked uncle that ran the lands dry of all life.

But just before all that, some important Princess in the land of Briar faced off a large important Knight? But the City of Flowers, where you recalled meeting Rollo, was dealing with sightings of their first monster who was locked away in the infamous belltower while the city burned.

Not to mention years later, a beautiful woman who locals swore was made of seafoam was actually found out to be a mermaid, hoping to marry the Prince who was already betrothed to a young woman who was labeled the Fairest in The Land. 

Sure, they all counted back to the stories and fairytales back home but the memorization of dates, names, and which came first and after were confusing. You almost found yourself in debt to Azul in order of getting help if it weren't for Riddle stepping in first and offering his help to you when he found you almost near meltdown, head stuffed into a history book in the darkest corner of the library.

After history left your gym class.

Which consisted mostly of running laps until your legs gave out or sitting on the benches, watching your friends and Grim try to operate a broomstick. Coach Vargas didn't want you to feel left out, but to the nurse, stating how you were a liability after Grim dropped you in his large feats of grandeur, causing Deuce and Ace to crash into together in hopes of catching you, Epel grabbing your track vest at first only for the zipper to break and continue your plummet. Jack and Sebek were the ones who caught you by your feet before you could crack your head open on the grass. Ortho was quick to give you a quick scan and escort you to the nurses office after finding your blood pressure skyrocketed through the roof.

So the benches, you made sure were kept warm. And never lonely. Certainly it was never the other way. 

Which is where you reside currently, eyes fixed up at the sky as you watched Scarabia students try to make evasive maneuvers while carrying the magic-disc for a simple game of magicshift but their opponents of Pomefiore made it very difficult. Watching how they seemed to be able to soar without a single care in the world, for if they fell, they could easily catch themselves by calling back their broomstick or with some other magical maneuver.

Never were they in danger of losing their life unlike the school's residential magicless human.

After that was just getting groceries, making dinner for Grim and yourself, homework studying, then to finish off the night; your evening walk with Malleus and chatter about gargoyles. That always left you feeling at least a tiny bit better as you left after every discussion with a small ‘goodnight’ and went to bed.

Yet, it felt like the days were growing longer ever since you went to Styx. This illness you were experiencing felt like it had been slowly accumulating since Riddle's overblot. First starting with small sneezes and allergy like symptoms until now, after Malleus’ overblot, you felt like you were knocking on death's doorstep. Yet, you had to press through. One day missed felt like a whole year of trying to recover whatever material you couldn't grasp and making your grade slip even more. 

And the only reason you were allowed to stay on campus is to keep an eye on Grim. Make sure your precious roommate succeeds in school. Which means pulling your own weight in order for him to succeed and live his dreams. 

“And so, when youre looking at this equation, you have to remember to plug it into the quadratic formula, Grim.” Your voice was slow and scratchy after another long day of schooling and now here you were trying to help Grim pull his own weight. Although, your help didn't seem all too helpful in the moment as the direbeasts hopes felt like they were fading away fast within his paws.

“Nya! I don't understand human concepts of math! I want to learn magic! I want to cast magic! I want to be a sorcerer! The greatest one!” Grim yowled out loudly, a spark of fire magic sparking at the scattered papers of homework, lighting them aflame with shades of blue. 

“Grim! Dont—!” You shouted as you began to pat out the flames, not caring for the burning sensation. Yes, it hurt. Yet, what hurt more is hours of work going up in literal blue flames. “To be a great sorcerer, you have to understand the basics of being human to fit in!” You responded out, trying to sound reasonable in your reply as you were able to save some of the papers of homework. Turning towards a very irritated looking Grim who… Did… He seem bigger than before? Surely there was no way he could've grown a bit bigger sitting next to you!

Yet, his intense yowling could be heard throughout the ramshackle as his magical ink pen could be seen spurting out extra ink. You knew this sight before.

Grim was about to overblot.

“Grim! Just calm down. We can figure this out—!” You reached out to your friend once more only to get swiped away by claws. Blood began to seep down your hand as you felt something more stickier drip down your hand, casting a glance down to your weeping wound, black ink spots to be found seeping into your skin instead of flowing with the rivers of red.

“How can a magicless human like you understand my wants?!” Grim howled out, as your eyes flicked back to his form and indeed. He was growing larger, and larger, and the ink was accumulating more, and more all over his body. 

“Because if I didn't, why do you think I would even still be trying to help you pass?! If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even be attending this school!” You snapped back and paused. No. That wasn't what you wanted to say. That was cruel, and mean. Your eyes flicked down to the wound once more as you began to recall what you remember about human bodies.

Was it human bodies being 70% water? No, otherwise the ink would wash away in the bloodstream.

Was it that human bodies are made up of 99% empty space? No, that wouldn't make sense in this theory.

The body being a collection of matter within a continuous three dimensional space? Physics isn't helpful in this matter either. 

No, it was energy! The human body is energy! And what is most of Twisted Wonderland? Magical energy! You were breathing it in, eating it, absorbing it! Magical energy— overblots— being here in Twisted Wonderland was poisoning you! That's why you've been so sick, you've been absorbing so much energy that wasn't made to fit in your human body—

Another ear shrieking yowl broke you through your thoughts as you snapped your gaze up to Grim, a much larger Grim who was larger than the size of a horse growling at you. Blot surrounding his whole form but that didn't deter you. If you were going to lose yourself, you could lose yourself trying to save your best friend. The one that has been with you this entire time without fail.

Launching yourself at him, a yell ripping through the room as you began to claw, tear, and rip blot away from Grim. Getting yourself coated in it yourself. If you were never meant to go home, if you weren't meant to get magic poisoning, you might as well pass trying to save your best friend.

“We can get through this together Grim! Just believe me! Don't overblot, please!” Yet, your cries were unheard as another deafening roar echoed through the ramshackle as the magic around you felt like it was getting stronger. You could feel yourself getting pulled in slowly now, a sacrifice maybe? A ticking bomb of pent up magical energy storing within you, poisoning you, and now would be beneficial for Grim now. Yet, you weren't going to lose. You just couldn't.

As you felt blot forming from yourself, sparks of something clicking with your stomach as you began to slowly fade out of consciousness. Hearing glass shatter and the panting of Grim bolting as you resided somewhere on his back. You refused to die like this. You couldn't leave him alone like this.

You know, you could always make Crowley look for your way home.

What? Where did that thought come from? You consciousness was fading more and more to darkness, unable to keep both eyes open as you felt your will giving up the fight.

Forget Crowley. You can find your own way home. Just give in. 

We will set you free, Prefect. We will send you home if you just…

Give in to the power.

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo x f!reader. cw food (they’re eating ice cream and reader enjoys *glass shatters* mint chocolate chip). fluff, established relationship, feelings etc. | wc 901, divider thanks to cafekitsune!

Sitting thigh to thigh with Satoru on a park bench not far from your home, the two of you decided to take a bit of leisure time to yourselves. The sweets in your hands were a must according to him and now that you’re sitting to enjoy them, you have to admit that he was correct.

“When I was eight, I told my mom I wanted to marry ice cream someday,” you sigh after scooping a spoonful in your mouth.

The anecdote makes you feel a little embarrassed to share though you recall it easily. Sitting next to her in her car, merrily enjoying the mint chocolate chip scoop topped cone in your little hand, on a day not entirely unlike the mid-spring one you’re enjoying now. You meant every word of it, as big of a lover back then as you are now, even for the inanimate and edible.

“You treat me like I’m ice cream sometimes so maybe you were right.”

He wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, the motion visible over the tops of his sunglasses. You giggle and playfully swat at him, careful to keep your cup and spoon steady. The reference to your pension for enjoying licking every inch of him (as if he doesn’t have the same proclivities...) you possibly can warms your cheeks and you scoop a bite from your cup and into your mouth to cool yourself down, a pleased hum further grabbing his attention.

The two of you aren’t married, not quite yet, but he has told you for years that you will be. It’s you or no one as far as he’s concerned, well aware he’s going to live an easy lifetime listening to that same pleased sigh on repeat for years to come.

“Do that again?”

You scoff and roll your eyes although there is no bite to it. The ability to roll with the punches is one of the things he has always enjoyed the most about you. There is an innate playfulness to you that perfectly compliments his own even though you may pretend to be Miss Serious when the mood strikes you.

Like right now.

“Stop being gross and enjoy this beautiful day, Satoru.

He plays off your displeased warning with a laugh, tossing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. It really is a treat to get to spend this time with him during the daylight hours considering how busy both of your schedules tend to be thanks to, well, the whole sorcery thing and the sun illuminates him enough you can almost see a halo around the top of his head.

This world is beautiful because he’s in it, you think to yourself.

Dreamily, you sigh and glance down at your thighs instead of looking at him which would only further your lovesick feeling. Your heart is so full it feels it may pop like a balloon, a sign you need to let out what you’re thinking about.

“You know, sometimes I think about anything I loved before you and that love feels so shallow.”

That is not what he was expecting you to say. Satoru’s eyes widen and he tilts his head, puffing out air loudly.

“You loved something before you met me? What a betrayal.”

The smile on your face dims and your posture tightens while you turn your face away from him. He has seen you in every vulnerable state a person can be in - naked and clothed, sick and well, broken and whole. Even if you withdraw, he will always bring you back. This time is no different.

Gojo reaches for you, turning your face toward him with his free hand.

“No no no, come back here. I was just kidding.”

His fingers rest against your jaw and his thumb runs over the round of your cheek and your sour look fades in an instant. There are many things you loved before him, people too, and though it stings to know your feelings weren’t preserved until the day he landed in your life he smiles at you softly. From the day he admitted his feelings to you years ago, you were his and his alone. There’s no use in being jealous now and whatever remains of the bitter taste dies within him when he looks at your face and leans over to glance into your cup.

“So are you saying you love me more than ice cream?”

Giggling, you tap his nose with the handle of the wooden spoon in your hand.

“I’m saying that I love you more than anything that has come before or after you at the very least.”

“Then I’ll take this as a sign you don’t want that then.” Reaching for your ice cream, he wiggles his fingers and you hold it out of his grasp with a laugh. “No,” you feign annoyance and sigh loudly. “But I’ll share it with you.”

Reaching into your cup you pull out a scoop and feed it into his open, waiting mouth. He dramatically hums his pleasure, bundling his hands against his chest and shaking slightly. It’s a ridiculous move but you can’t help but laugh at him, reaching for another scoop in to feed him again.

“I love you too, by the way.” He adds after accepting the second bite, mouth still half full and cold. Nodding with a soft smile, you know he always will.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Heyy, Your work is so amazing it makes me beg for more!

So like gp! Donna x Fem! Blind reader.

So y/n have been working for donna for a very long time, also she's blind but she can see like Outline of the place and the story: Donna's so sweet to her also so in love with y/n and one day something happens (you can choose) that's make Donna confess and y/n feels the same.

And Donna si so scared but y/n assures her that she love her more than anything and they make love 💕

Thank youu...also sorry for my grammar again 🤭

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your support and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

A useless maid?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Blind! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, a bit of smut, Minors DNI, fluff, blindness...

Word count: 7,799

Summary: Why keep a blind maid like you?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

Spring was always your favorite season.

The morning sun warmed your face, telling you it was time to get up, and you did, opening the window, letting a floral scent and a fresh breeze wash over your face. It was a good way to start a new day.

Your life was always a constant whirlwind of circumstances, emotions, luck and misfortune. When you were 20, you were completely alone. Your parents were no longer there and you were the only one who could do something so that loneliness wouldn’t become your companion forever.

In some way you still found hard to believe, you ended up obtaining a privilege that only a few people enjoyed, serving one of the Lords.

To be a maid, to cook... All of those were easy tasks for a girl like you. You didn't stand out in them, but at least you were much more willing to do them than some of your friends, those who, involuntarily, ended up working in the castle.

Perhaps your different, cheerful and optimistic attitude was what led you to the job of your life, serving as a maid in a mansion that was the fear of most of the villagers, in that dangerous place from which no one returned, the Beneviento Estate.

A normal, ordinary maid for a not so ordinary woman. Donna Beneviento was the youngest of the Lords, the most discreet, and for many people, the most feared. It was risky to offer your services to that veiled figure, to that woman in black who walked elegantly next to her doll, but the risk was worth it.

You didn’t live with an army of helpful girls willing to do anything. You were alone in that mansion. It wasn’t a euphemism or an exaggerated way of telling your story; you really were in complete solitude.

Your mistress was not known for her intense approach. It seemed that during those first months, all she did was to avoid you. A woman like her, surely accustomed to being served since she was very young, couldn’t bear the mistake she made by hiring you, by letting you share your life with hers.

That apparently irrational fear this sick woman had at seeing her territory occupied by a cheerful and funny girl faded little by little, with the inevitable passage of time.

Donna wasn’t like people said. Yes, she had problems, a mental illness that occasionally you suffer with her, but most of the time she was just a normal woman with a life that perhaps she didn’t want to live.

Reluctant to contact, to words, the lady in black always tried to ignore any of your smiles or your kind questions. But that distant and cold attitude soon disappeared.

The months were a succession of achievements, of timid approaches from the lady towards you, of almost imperceptible whispers. Trust was something difficult to achieve, until, one day, the black veil that covered the doll maker's face fell before your eyes.

It was not the first time you saw Donna without the veil, at least it wasn’t the first time she was aware of it. Her special beauty caused a tremor in your legs, a spark in your eyes that widened your smile.

Apparently, the fear she instilled in the villagers was almost involuntary; the horrible monster they talked about in the tavern didn’t exist, it was an illusion.

Ashamed of her appearance, recognizing that her body had also changed thanks to the gift of the Gods, Lady Beneviento opened up to you, cementing the foundation of your relationship, a healthy relationship of mutual trust and respect that would continue to this day.

Donna, free of her complexes, began to be part of your life in a less discreet way, to cloud your loneliness at the same time that you made hers disappear.

Smiles, laughter, deep conversations… Yes, of course that was much more like what you were looking for as a maid. You couldn't complain and you never would, not even about the childish jealousy that the Angie doll always felt towards you.

But… Yes, your life was still a succession of luck and misfortune. Working for Lady Beneviento had been a luck, but a fleeting one, one that barely lasted a year.

You could still feel the cold of that day, you could remember the snowflakes landing on your clothes and the sound of the crows anticipating what was going to happen. You were never superstitious, but maybe just for once, you should have listened to the signs.

Your days off were usually boring, you didn't have things to do in the old mansion, and you never really liked being guarded by walls. A walk through the woods seemed like a good option, at least until it was time to eat, the time to chat with the lady in black until the sun disappeared.

Your thoughts used to cause you a kind of lucid dream in which you used to lose yourself, letting your legs walk on the snowy ground.

Your memories were your companions, as was the dark figure of the lady. She was an interesting woman, of course, a new curiosity you loved to discover little by little. Soon the darkness began to wake you from your wanderings and the world around you seemed unfamiliar.

You were lost.

Luckily you knew how to orient yourself, even though those rotten branches prevented you from walking normally. You weren't scared, but a pressure in your chest became a much clearer sign of a bad feeling.

Humming, letting the fear disappear with a soft melody, you walked slowly towards what you thought was the exit of that dark forest.

The pain of a strong blow accompanied by a roar would remain in your memories forever. Lycans, those horrible creatures were to blame for the end of the paradise you lived in.

The push of the creature knocked you to the ground, causing your head to hit a rock and your world to plunge into an inevitable darkness.

You woke up shortly after, when the cold of the night was more present and a shrill voice called you. Donna and Angie weren’t long in appearing. You might think they wanted to help you, but they were looking for you to punish you for your audacity, for daring to abandon the sad and mourning lady in black.

It didn't take you long to fight against the irrational rage of the Italian, to explain what your situation had been. The blow to your head throbbed and the humidity in your hair made the lady see your true problem.

Forgetting about her accusations, she took you back to the mansion in silence, healing your wound and apologizing.

In any other circumstances that little crisis could have been considered over but... No, your hell had only just begun.

Your life returned to normal, the tasks you were always happy to do calmed that throbbing pain in your head. Everything had returned to its place, the smile had returned to the brunette's face, and the mockery and jealousy had returned to the doll.

One day… Yes, you remembered that day, that day when the sun was streaming through the windows. You were as always, cleaning the mansion with your cheerful humming until you froze in place, blinking several times.

The painting from which you were cleaning the years of neglect began to blur in front of you, to darken. It could be a hallucination. It could be that Donna wanted to play with you. It was an impossible theory for several reasons, but the most important one was that the lady wasn’t at home.

The dark circle surrounding your vision grew larger, blackening the rays of sunlight, distorting your vision completely. That blow to the head wasn’t just an anecdote; it was the beginning of your misfortune.

You never said anything. You didn't tell Donna that your world was getting darker, that her beauty was no longer perceptible to you.

Going blind would mean the end of that wonderful, peaceful year. You would return to your old cabin to spend the rest of your life alone.

Determined to ignore the increasingly obvious failure of your sense of sight, you tried to go on with your life as normal and not show the lady in black what was happening to you.

At first it wasn't very complicated, but when all you were able to see were timid shadows, when it was impossible for you to act normally, Donna finally noticed.

Crying, screaming, tears... That afternoon was anything but pleasant. Confessing your sudden blindness, you begged the lady not to be rejected.

Prepared to be dismissed, to return to your life with no meaning, you lowered your head. You felt no scorn, just a hand on your shoulder and a gasp of concern. Donna didn’t abandon you. She didn’t give up on you. Unlike scorning you, she went out of her way to help you.

Unfortunately, not even the Mighty Mother Miranda could make you see again. The lady in black tried too, but to no avail.

A blind maid, who would want that?

Against all odds, Donna Beneviento wanted it.

You were not scorned, cast out of her life, no. She kept you in your place. She trusted and helped you to adjust to your new situation so, according to her, you wouldn’t abandon her. It might be a selfish thought on her part, but it was your salvation.

You would never see her beauty again, that bright eye, that stoic look from the portrait on the stairs, that pleasant and warm smile, but at least you could still hear her voice, smell her lavender perfume, touch her when she guided you. You had lost your sight, but you had not lost Donna.

Sweet and pleasant, the lady's behavior became a mystery. Patient and tender, she helped you to see life without being able to see it, so your blindness didn’t prevent you from living like you deserved.

Maybe the Black Gods had taken pity on you or maybe it was simply a miracle.

Time, merciless, passed little by little and this new situation became your new life. You knew the house perfectly well before your problem and, with Donna’s help and even Angie’s, you managed perfectly doing almost all the chores.

The only thing you weren't allowed to do was cooking, but that was an advantage since the lady in black was a much better cook than you.

(Y/N), a 23-year-old blind girl serving Lady Beneviento… it seemed like the title of a novel. A year of light, two years of darkness and an eternity of shadows, a gloomy future that you wouldn't have been able to bear if Donna hadn't been by your side.

Lady, boss, mistress… All those terms blurred even more than your vision. The relationship you had settled as a routine that you appreciated more than anything else, maybe too much.

Of course, any strange thought that had to do with Lady Beneviento always did its best to get into your head, but you, with elegance and professionalism, firmly dispersed it.

She took pity on you, just that… Just that?

Guided by the rays of sunlight, you prepared to face a new day, a new challenge that you increasingly mastered. Your efforts always went beyond your capabilities, but you would do anything to not lose the tranquility that the mansion offered you, that Donna offered you.

“Good morning…” you said to yourself, sighing as you soaked your hands in a softening cream.

Touching, smelling and hearing had become your new way of seeing life, you would have to take care of yourself, emphasize what had remained instead of lamenting what you had lost.

Dressed, combed and ready for work, you timidly went down the stairs, smiling as you noticed the penetrating aroma of the coffee that Donna prepared every morning.

“Hey, watch out!” A sudden squeal made you step back, scared.

“What? What's going on?” you asked fearfully, trying to distinguish the possible danger around you.

Hearing a timid, well-known laugh, you rolled your useless eyes, reaching out your hands to guide yourself through the mansion.

“Very funny, Angie…” you murmured as you heard steps on the wood, surely belonging to the triumphant doll.

“I tricked you,” the puppet mocked, approaching you so you could pick her up, as you always did, on Donna's orders, of course.

“It's very bad to trick a blind person, you know that?” you said amused, letting the doll serve as a guide to the table.

“Oh... Are you a person?” Angie mocked, laughing amused.

“Mm, I think so,” you joked, grabbing the chair with your other hand and sitting down carefully. “One day I'm going to have a heart attack.”

“You should be used to it, silly girl, Angie is always there to scare you,” the puppet hissed, guiding your hand towards the old coffee pot. “Watch out!”

“What? What's wrong now?” you asked, pulling your hand away in fright.

“It's hot…” the doll murmured, getting off your lap with an amused laugh.

“Oh, yeah, right,” you groaned, shaking your head at the puppet's tireless mockery, one that wasn't annoying, but maybe too recurrent.

“Basta, Angie!” Donna appeared with an authoritative and almost furious voice, reprimanding her doll's rebellious attitude.

“What? It was a joke,” the puppet protested, making the smile on your face widen.

You really didn't know exactly why you were smiling… It could be because of Donna's comical relationship with her porcelain counterpart, or because you knew the lady was there like every morning.

“It's okay. Angie's right, I should be used to it,” you said in a sweet voice, apologizing to the doll.

The lady in black sighed, probably shaking her head, and moved closer to you, accompanied by the usual sound of coffee pouring into your cup.

“Donna,” you said, interrupting the brunette who, like every day, helped you get better on the chair while she guided you to breakfast. “Buongiorno”

“Good morning, (Y/N),” she whispered, taking your hand to guide it to the steaming cup, moving away when she made sure everything was properly in place. “Did you sleep well?”

“Oh, yes, I was especially tired yesterday,” you said, blowing on the cup and bringing it to your lips, enjoying that bitter aroma with which you always started the day.

“I'm sorry, I'm sure it was my fault,” Donna said, sitting in front of you. “I shouldn't have kept you that long.”

“It's okay, it was funny,” you murmured with a tender smile, searching with your hand for those perfect toasts that she always made. “I didn't know that “The Tell-Tale Heart” was such a spooky story.”

“Mm, Poe is always very spooky, (Y/N), he was the inspiration for many of the later horror novels,” the brunette explained, talking about your reading night, one of your favorite pastimes for a couple of years now.

“Yeah, I see,” you commented in an informal tone. “I… Well, before… You know,” you said with a slightly broken tone. “I liked to read fantasy novels.”

“I know,” Donna said abruptly, as if knowing things about you was important to her, as if the fact that you knew that she knew that kind of information was something she wanted to point out involuntarily. “I know, (Y/N), I know you loved to read.”

“Oh, okay…” you sighed at that abrupt reaction.

“I'm sorry,” the lady said after a few moments of awkward silence. “I didn't mean to talk to you like that.”

“Don't worry,” you said, downplaying it. “It's not your fault. I've probably told you about it many times, you know I talk too much.”

“You do,” Donna said, with a voice that revealed a beautiful smile. “I'm sorry you lost that... hobby,” she sighed, showing once again a guilt for your misfortune that didn't exist.

No, not at all, she had nothing to do with what happened to you, but somehow, sometimes, she thought she had.

“I haven't really lost it, I prefer you to read to me,” you said amused, biting your lip unconsciously. “You're very good at acting.”

“Do you think so? I guess it's a compliment,” the lady answered, with a slightly lower tone.

“Of course,” you said with a sigh, finishing your coffee slowly, enjoying one of the endless conversations with the lady in black, ones that increased much more after your accident.

“W-Well, I… Oh, it doesn't matter,” she said, regretting something she was going to say to you, a tone you already knew, that was very familiar to you. “If I tell you, you'll laugh at me.”

“No, no, no, not at all, I would never laugh at you, Donna,” you said, wanting to discover something else about that dark woman, something that was still at the top of your priorities and hobbies.

“Well, it's that I… I used to, I used to do… Puppet shows to Josef, my gardener,” she finally explained, with a voice that perfectly matched a blush on her cheeks, something that made you smile.

“Really? How curious,” you said, listening attentively. “With Angie?”

“Yes, with Angie,” the doll answered, with an annoyed and offended voice. “It was humiliating.”

“How were you supposed to know? You weren't alive back then,” Donna protested, addressing Angie in a comical way, something that made you laugh softly.

“Wow... You're a woman of many talents,” you murmured pleasantly, finishing your breakfast.

“Really? Um... I, I don't think so,” she said, with a slightly nervous voice, like every time something resembling a compliment came out of your lips. “I mean, grazie, (Y/N)”

You smiled, nodding formally and guiding yourself to get up from the table.

“Anyway, I should start with my chores,” you commented, saying goodbye to another of those shy encounters with the lady, who immediately got up to help you. “Oh, thank you, Donna, but it's not necessary.”

“Um, okay…” she sighed, making sure that there was no danger around you. “I'm sorry, it's just that…”

“Don't apologize for being nice,” you said softly. “Can’t someone like you be nice?”

“Someone like me?” she asked, helping you around the table again, filling your senses with that intoxicating lavender perfume. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, well, the Lords are supposed to be ruthless and fearsome, right?” you joked, shaking your head.

“That's what you think about us?” Donna asked, guiding you with her arm towards the hallway. “Am I ruthless with you, (Y/N)?”

“Mm, well… No, not entirely,” you said laughing amused, walking next to her. “Wait, where are we going?”

“To the workshop, I need your help,” she said with a cold voice, guiding you towards the elevator. “If you can, of course.”

“Today I had to clean the kitchen but… I suppose I can make an exception,” you said curiously. “If my lady needs my help…”

“My lady… Forget about that nonsense, you've been here for three years,” Donna said, annoyed by that formality you knew she hated, but that provoked funny reactions from the regal and stoic Lady Beneviento.

“I was joking,” you said, laughing discreetly, holding on to her arm as you felt the unpleasant humidity of the basement get into your clothes. “I'm sorry if it bothered you.”

“It didn't bother me,” she said, with a tone just as cold as that place, involuntarily condemning you for a silent walk through those dark corridors.

“What do I have to do?” you asked when the lady guided you through the workshop until you sat on a chair, getting a little closer to what looked like her work table. “Supervise?”

“You make a joke out of everything, (Y/N)…” Donna murmured, sitting down beside you with a sad movement. “You're worse than Angie.”

“Worse than Angie?” you joked again. “I'd rather laugh at myself than complain at every corner. It's something I learned long before blindness.”

“Mm, an admirable thought, (Y/N),” the lady commented, moving some items you couldn't make out and handing you what looked like a sewing kit. “Here, take this.”

“Okay,” you said, securing the objects in your hands.

“Can you sew?” the lady asked. “Maybe I'm forcing you to make too much effort.”

“Not at all, Donna. It's fine,” you said, nodding in a reassuring voice. “I'm still capable of doing it, and very well indeed.”

A shy laugh from the lady raised your lips even more.

“Oh, okay, I would never dare to question you,” the brunette joked, guiding your hand towards what seemed to be several fabrics. “I need you to tell me which one you like the most.”

“Mm, let's see...” you murmured, studying each of the fabrics, not being able to remove the sensation of Donna's hand in yours, a soft and distant contact, shy, pleasant and warm. “This one is too rough.”

“Well, not this one,” she said, discarding one of the pieces of fabric. “What do you think of this one?”

“Mm, yes, much better,” you said, nodding, closing your eyes to feel the soft touch of the chosen fabric even more. “What color is it?”

“Gray,” the lady said, studying your choice carefully and searching the table again. “Is that okay with you?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, picking up another piece of fabric the lady handed you.

“I need you to sew these ruffles on the edge of the fabric, it's for a dress. Do you think you could do it?” she asked, suddenly focused on her work, a very special one, strange but shocking for someone like her.

A doll maker for children who was the nightmare of many of them; it was another of the sweet contradictions you admired about Beneviento.

“Yes, I'll try,” you confirmed, feeling the edge and joining it with that piece of ruffles.

“Well, then… Let's get to work,” Donna sighed, handing you a needle along with its thread. “If you see that you can't just…”

“Relax, I already told you that I'm good at sewing,” you said confidently, running your hands over the fabric, starting your task with mastery.

You couldn't see it, but the movement of the shadows you saw told you that the lady nodded, focusing on her dolls.

It was a pleasant morning. Guided by your instinct, you sewed in silence, humming from time to time. The lady's always nervous breathing was your companion, along with the creaking of the wooden limps hanging from the ceiling.

The lavender was intoxicating and your stupid head turned from time to time, desperately seeking to look at the lady, to ingratiate yourself with her beauty once again, one last time.

That desire to contemplate the light of her dark gaze grew with time. You may not have given it all the importance it required, but little by little that burning feeling made its way, making your heart beat faster and faster in her presence.

“Mm, I think it's done,” you said satisfied, checking with your hands the work you had done.

“Let me see,” Donna said, still focused, extending her hand towards yours as she ran it over the embroidery. “Yes, good work, (Y/N),” she whispered satisfied, letting her hand fall, just enough for it to met yours.

You smiled happy to have pleased her and felt a shiver at the soft touch of her hand on yours, one that abandoned the fabric and focused on your skin carelessly.

“Donna?” you asked, interrupting that curious exploration, the silence that had formed while she caressed you, one in which the lady seemed to have completely lost herself.

“I-I'm sorry,” she said, removing her bold hand from your skin, snatching the fabric from you abruptly. “I shouldn't have done it.”

“No, it's nothing…” you said cautiously due to the lady's apparently nervous attitude. “Do you like my hands?” you asked innocently.

“Um… Yes, they are, they are very soft,” she said, with a voice broken by nerves, by that strange and uncomfortable situation.

“Well, I have to confess that I’m cheating,” you said, rubbing your hands, trying to find in them the softness that Donna appreciated.

“Cheating?” she asked curiously, with a slightly calmer tone.

“Yes, well, I put on some hand cream, you know… Now they are… Well, as if they were my eyes,” you explained passively, preventing memories from haunting and sadden you. “I bought it from the Duke and it seems that it was really worth all those lei.”

“I see,” the brunette commented, looking away. “They are… Beautiful…”

“Thank you,” you sighed with a shy smile, noticing the familiar burning of a blush that was surely betraying your embarrassment. “Yours too.”

“Mine? Oh, well, thank you,” she said timidly, moving to look at them closely because the shadows you saw. “But I'm afraid I don't take care of them as much as you do.”

“No? Well, they are soft,” you said amused, hiding the nervous trembling of those hands that the lady in black liked that much. “May I?” you asked carefully, extending your hand towards her, who took it slowly. “Mm, yes, they are quite soft too…”

Unintentionally, instead of dissipating that tension, you increased it, generating another strange silence that rhythmically accompanied those caresses.

At that moment you felt something else, a look you couldn't see, the gleam in her eye that was nonexistent to you, but that stuck in your chest like an invisible enemy.

“(Y/N),” Donna said after a few more moments of erratic caresses, forcing you to come out of your thoughts and suddenly let her hand go. “I-I need my hand to work…”

“Sorry,” you said, embarrassed for having lost yourself in her touch, one she started and was eager to finish. “I don't know what I was thinking…”

“Don't apologize, I… I…” the lady stammered, her voice getting smaller and smaller, stopping talking before finishing the sentence, leaving you bewildered. “I liked you caressing me.”

“Oh, yes, well… Me too,” you said timidly, trying, unsuccessfully, to interpret those almost inaudible words, marked with a strong accent, as if they were struggling to get out of her lips.

“Really? I mean… Um…” she said nervously again, shaking her head exaggeratedly, surely thinking that you were incapable of seeing her.

She was partly right, but the shadows moved in a way that you could slowly decipher.

“Today is my afternoon off…” you commented, breaking the pleasant silence that formed after that strange conversation, after those strange caresses.

“Certo,” Donna sighed uncomfortable, surely not gathering the necessary warmth to ask you to leave her alone. “What are you going to do?”

“I had thought… I don't know, it's a beautiful day, maybe I’ll take a walk around the grounds,” you said, playing with things on the table that you couldn't see.

Donna stopped abruptly.

“A walk? By yourself?” she asked inquisitively. “I-I don't think it's a good idea, (Y/N), it's, it's dangerous.”

“Yes, but… I need to get some fresh air, you know,” you explained, resting your head on your hand.

“Don't you remember the last time you went out for a walk?” the lady questioned, with a reproachful tone that chilled your blood. “No.”

“Of course I remember,” you said abruptly, offended by that comment, because the memories clouded that tender moment. “But it's been a long time.”

“No,” the brunette sentenced with a stern and authoritative tone. “Forget it, (Y/N).”

“Hey, it's supposed to be my afternoon off, I should be able to do whatever I want,” you protested annoyed, crossing your arms. “Nothing will happen to me, I'm well oriented.”

“I said no,” she repeated through clenched teeth. “You will never leave this house alone again, do you understand?”

“Oh…” you said, backing away from the abruptness of her words. “Well, in that case… Why don't you come with me?” you asked with a brighter tone, with a hopeful smile on your face.

“Io? With you?” Donna asked, judging by the gesture she made, pointing at herself.

You nodded effusively.

“You can show the grounds to me,” you said with a childish, pleading voice, getting a little closer to that lavender scent. “If you’re with me, nothing will happen, right?”

“Do you really want to walk with me?” she asked, incredulous at your proposal. “You… With me?”

“Yes, of course,” you said amused. “What do you think?”

“I think it's a wonderful idea, (Y/N), but… I, I'm afraid I can't,” the lady sighed, lowering her head. “This afternoon I have a meeting with Mother Miranda, and I don't know how long it will take.”

“Oh, wow… I guess that cancels my plans,” you lamented, pouting, causing a concentrated sigh from the brunette, who turned to you again.

“W-Wait,” she interrupted, with a soft tone. “Excuse me for my abruptness… I just don't want…”

“Anything to happen to me, I understand, Donna,” you said with a tired voice, shaking your head.

“Mm…” she murmured. “But, but I might find another solution…”

“Which one?”

The lady laughed shyly, leaving you in suspense until the desired moment arrived.

“I can't believe it, what am I, a guide dog?” Angie protested, reluctantly accompanying you out of the mansion.

Having Angie with you was an unexpected, but funny solution.

“Come on Angie, be nice,” you said, guiding yourself by her footsteps and her wooden hand on your legs. “I'm sure a walk would be good for you.”

“Ha, do you think so? I should be with my Donna at the meeting playing with Moreau but no… The silly doll has to be a guide for the blind girl, I shouldn’t be surprised, after all,” the doll murmured, pulling your dress towards the elevator. “Come on, silly…”

“Shouldn’t you be surprised?” you asked curiously, searching for the button with your hands. “Why do you say that?”

Angie gasped, as if she had said something she shouldn’t.

“No way, you gossipy fool, I was talking to myself, you weren’t invited to this conversation,” the puppet protested, making you laugh again. “Hey, careful, there’s a puddle over there, go to your right. No, not my right… Oh, what have I done to deserve this?”

You danced comically, avoiding the obstacles the doll warned you about, something very funny for her, of course.

“Stop complaining, I heard you talking to Donna and you seemed excited about the idea,” you said amused, searching for the doll with your hands and letting yourself be guided by her wooden arms.

“Were you spying us?” she asked indignantly, crossing her arms.

“No... It's just that you talk too loud,” you joked, earning a grunt from the doll, who continued on her way.

It was a pleasant walk. The shadows you saw were illuminated by the evening sun and the spring breeze was much better for your skin than any cream. The doll amused and guided you correctly, almost as if she really cared about you.

“Mm... What’s that smell?” you asked, stopping to enjoy a sweet floral aroma that began to flood your senses. “Flowers?”

“Of course they are flowers,” Angie said, tugging at your dress. “Over here, blind girl.”

“Wait, wait, let me get close,” you said, guiding yourself by your sense of smell towards that attractive perfume. “I would like to touch them.”

“Are you stupid? Come here, huh!” the doll shrieked when you started walking on your own towards that smell, with your eyes closed, unable to feel anything but the aroma of those flowers.

“Angie…” you hissed when the doll insisted on moving you out of the way. “Come on, let me go.”

“Hey, stop!” she shrieked almost desperately. “Don't come closer there!”

“Why?” you asked, turning towards her voice but without stopping walking, a terrible idea.

Your foot tripped on what seemed like a root, making you fall irremediably forward. On the ground, the scent of those flowers began to be unpleasant, too intense. You had undoubtedly fallen on top of them.

“Oh... Angie, help me,” you protested, feeling the ground with your hands, touching the fine petals of the flowers.

“Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo!” Angie shrieked. “Fool! Are you okay?” she asked, shaking your shoulders as she helped you up as best she could. “Can you hear me?”

That voice began to distort when you felt a strange dizziness. The light you saw completely darkened and you collapsed on the ground hopelessly, fainting.

“Oh... Shit... Donna’s going to throw me into the fireplace...”

That was the last thing you were able to hear before succumbing to a different darkness, to a deep sleep.

Slowly your hearing began to work again, but your body was unable to move.

“Do you realize what you've done!?” a distorted scream was the first thing you could hear.

Your body felt weak, but strangely comfortable.

“Hey, hey, don't take it out on me, silly Donna, it was her fault!” a shriek that belonged to Angie continued that argument.

“Her fault? You're supposed to take care of her!” the lady shrieked, now with the most recognizable voice. “Porca miseria!”

“She was the one who wanted to smell the flowers, you can't blame me for you being a coward and not being able to tell her that…”

“Get out! Get out of my sight or I swear that…!” the lady shouted again, making a terrible and dangerous echo in that unknown place.

Sleep prevented you from continuing to listen. Your desire to sleep overcame the anxiety of not knowing where you were or what had happened.

Consciousness slowly returned again and your body felt somewhat better, being able to understand your surroundings. You were on a bed, that was obvious, the humidity of the environment and the smell of lavender placed you in the Beneviento mansion, next to Donna.

Your limp hand was warm, surrounded by something soft, strange, which you quickly identified: Donna's hand. The lady squeezed it tightly while whispering something that your ears weren’t able to hear, at least for a while.

“Come on... Tesoro, per favore... Don't do this to me...” the lady whispered in a clearer, but sobbing voice.

You squeezed your eyes shut, realizing that you could move a little, that your hands were no longer useless and your fingers, free from hers, could caress the soft silk sheets that you used to wash. It was Donna's bedroom, you were sure.

“The antidote should have taken effect… You should wake up,” she whispered with another sob, squeezing your hand even tighter. “Please… I shouldn't have left you alone, amore mio…”

The desire you had to open your eyes calmed down when you heard that affectionate way of calling you, forcing you to remain still, pretending to remain unconscious due to the curiosity that excessive concern caused you.

“(Y/N) please, you can't do this to me… You can't leave me alone again, not now… Not when I can't live without you…” she continued sobbing, burying her head in your motionless body, pulling at your clothes, scratching them desperately. “It's my fault…”

Once again, you decided not to give yourself away.

“I'm a coward…” she lamented, crying into your clothes, letting your hand go to hit the mattress hard. “I'm a coward! I-I should have told you how I felt about you before… Before… Oddio… You can't leave me, y-you can't… (Y/N), I've been, I've been in love with you for so long…”

You had to suppress the reflex action of opening your eyes at that totally unexpected confession. She loved you.

You'd be lying if you said that the lady in black's sweet and caring attitude didn't seem a bit exaggerated to you. After all, nobody needed a blind maid, nobody could find someone like you useful unless… Unless that person were madly in love with you.

Little by little you began to understand many things, to explain the lady's strange attitudes, her stammering, stuttering and embarrassing escapes after a conversation about love or mutual interests.

You had things to confess too, feelings you never dared to bring to light, emotions that went far beyond pure gratitude for not being scorned when you lost your sight. Donna was a beautiful, intelligent, kind, disturbed but terribly loving and attentive woman.

Before the shadows took over you, you used to be a bit addicted to her smile, to her shy and embarrassed look, perhaps much more than you would have liked to admit.

You, who didn’t know what love was, found it in Donna without even realizing it, without giving importance to the desires of your heart, desires that your head blurred among a thousand ways of saying that it was something impossible, totally improbable.

That addiction didn’t change with the shadows. It was accentuated in the memories, in the image of her beauty always present in your dreams. Maybe you hadn't realized how much...

“Please, wake up... I... I... I love you...” she whispered, interrupting your own ramblings, confirming that those words hadn't been the result of the intoxication of the flowers.

“Donna, I love you too,” you said, unable to hold back any longer, abruptly sitting up and making the lady back away, scared.

“Ah, cazzo!” she shrieked, almost falling off the chair where she was taking care of you. “(Y/N)?”

“I'm, I'm awake, my love,” you said, with a splendid smile. “Those things you've said to me...”

“What? Were you awake the whole time?” she asked in a fearful, almost annoyed voice. “How dare you? Do you know how scared I was?”

“Hey, come on, calm down, everything's okay...” you said, making a gesture with your hands to relax the brunette's embarrassed nervousness.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, nothing's okay,” she said with labored breathing, making an unpleasant noise as she dragged the chair and stood up, walking from one side of the room to the other. “Damn it, (Y/N)! Were you playing with me?”

“No, Donna, I…” you said, preventing with all your effort an imminent crisis that knowing you had heard her confession had provoked. “I-I don't even know what happened to me…”

“Oh, you tripped in the forest and fell on a bunch of Indian anesthetic flowers,” Donna explained, without stopping moving, or so the sound of her heels indicated. “Why did you get close to them? Don't you know how dangerous they are?”

“Well, it's obvious that I didn't know,” you said, crossing your arms. “I didn't see it coming.”

“Stop joking, you could have stayed in a coma forever, (Y/N)… You could have…” she murmured, coming closer again and caressing your cheek quickly, with a trembling hand.

“Here I am. Nothing happened to me,” you said satisfied by your resurrection. “Actually, I'm glad it happened to me.”

“How can you say that!?” the lady shrieked, completely unhinged. “Do you realize what would have happened to me if…!?”

The silence fell heavily on you.

“Yes, I realize, Donna,” you said after a few moments, which luckily, the lady didn’t take advantage of to escape from her embarrassing confession. “I’ve heard everything.”

“You must be proud, right?” she said with a hiss, apparently pointing at you with her finger. “You're… Ugh…”

“If this hadn't happened to me you would never have had the courage to tell me that you loved me,” you said in a low voice, playing with the sheets.

“Forget about that… It's, it's nonsense,” she said, sitting on the mattress and brushing your hair away from your head, intoxicating you with lavender again. “Don't think about it, okay?”

“How can you expect me not to, Donna?” you said, abruptly, furiously. “I've been repressing what I felt for you for three years because I would never think that you could feel the same, now that I know, you can't just do that. You can't ask me to forget the nicest thing that has been said to me in my life…”

“What? You…? Do you feel something for me?” she asked, with a different tone, distrustful. “Are you trying to trick me?”

“No, of course I’m not,” you said nervously. “Donna, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and… Even before I lost my sight I… W-Well… I think, I think I’m crazy about you.”

“(Y/N) I…” she said in a whisper, caressing your cheek while you accompanied the gesture with a soft grip of your hand in hers. “I just can’t believe you…”

“Don't do it,” you whispered, guiding your hand towards her deformed face, running your fingers through her hair, tangling them on it slowly before leaning towards her, placing your lips on hers briefly. “You don't have to believe me right now, but maybe you will over time… No one has ever treated me like you, with you I feel… I feel like I don't need my eyes… That the light of your beauty illuminates my darkness…”

“That's very nice,” Donna said, laughing shyly, resting her forehead against yours. “But, but now it's too soon to… Talk about this… You should, you should rest, you could suffer a relapse,” she said, kissing you briefly again and moving away from you, something that you prevented with a firm grip on her wrist.

“Wait…” you sighed, dragging her back to you. “If that's true... Let me enjoy your love before I return to the darkness...”

With that velvety whisper, you brought your lips closer to hers again in a much more intense way, deepening the wet kiss that the brunette accepted without complaint.

You knew the path of your life, the fortunes, the misfortunes... You didn't know what the future held for you, if those damned flowers would change your destiny again.

The fear of losing what you had achieved was strong in your heart, in the desire that you thought you would never feel. If Donna was your fortune, you wanted to have her. You wanted to feel her before fate played with you again.

Your breathing became agitated as your soft hands roamed over her body, feeling, noticing every inch of her soft, burning skin. The sensations didn't need to be seen, only to be enjoyed.

The trembling of her body at your touch was much more noticeable, the rush and eagerness of her breathing matched the kisses, the timid caresses of your tongues.

Donna seemed worried, but your insistence was strong, it was invincible as you pulled her body to rest on top of yours. Now you too would smell of lavender.

Feeling, hearing, touching, tasting… All those heightened senses were like an ambrosia that accompanied the timid movement of your hips.

Your curious hands scrutinized her clothes, her skin, each one of those parts that you didn't want to forget, that your dreams reminded you of despite your reluctance to ignore them.

Softness, sweetness, love… Those words accompanied each one of your kisses, the caresses that her fingers made timidly on the edges of your dress, asking permission to make their way through your skin.

Her lips tickled your neck and your hips moved impatiently as they brushed against hers. Your eyes remained closed, absent of the shadows that wouldn’t frame in the slightest the blind sensation of her beauty mixing with you.

“I-I don't know if we should, (Y/N)…” the lady murmured, stopping her passionate kisses, looking at you without knowing that you were doing the same with your mind, that you could see her face even though you couldn't really do it. “This is very hasty.”

“I know,” you said, bringing your smart hand to her cheek again, passing over her wet lips, because of yours.

Her hands were guided by the sight before her, by the amazing skill with which your clothes gave way to your bare skin, ready to be caressed only by her hands. Her slender fingers wandered aimlessly over your chest, like curious explorers.

Your chest rose and fell with each caress, with each kiss that was planted on your skin. Her silky black hair tickled you, making you laugh in a playful way, drawing her lips back to where they should be forever, on yours.

Panting, caresses, kisses that became more and more erratic... Any kind of regret disappeared along with her black dress, along with the touch of her erection contradicting her cautious words. You needed her, you always needed her. She never left you, you never would.

“(Y/N)…” the lady moaned when your hands pulled down her underwear, when the desire and rush of your lust completely stripped the lady.

It was a bitter moment. You would have given anything to contemplate her naked body on yours, to be able to stare at it and not through the crack of a door.

Yes, sometimes you did, before… You weren't even aware of how much you loved her.

“Please,” you begged, opening your eyes so the shadows would give you a break, so you could see her blurred figure as she slowly entered you, making you moan from that hot, unmatched and overwhelming sensation. “Donna!”

“I-I'm sorry… Did I hurt you?” the lady said, positioning herself more comfortably as she entered you completely, giving your body enough time to adapt to her trembling, imposing shaft.

“It doesn't matter...” you sighed in relief when that pain turned into thousands of electric currents running through your body.

The shadows were unnecessary, your eyes were useless. The only thing that mattered was what you felt, what you wanted to feel.

When comfort and pleasure forced you to moan, Donna began to move, moaning too in a discreet but terribly erotic way. Her hips moved slowly and her thrusts stretched your walls in a tender, not abrupt way.

Your lips claimed hers while her erection caressed your interior, causing the lustful movements of your hips, a whole world of unique sensations for which you didn’t need your stupid eyes.

Without words, only moans, with caresses, that erotic dance continued at its own pace, swinging your bodies, enjoying the movements that pleasure generated and the reactions of the brunette feeling inside of you.

That romanticism faded when the pleasure forced you to behave wilder, moaning uncontrollably as your body claimed hers even more, squeezing it, not letting her separate from you for a moment. Your muscles tensed after some rougher thrusts, after the scratches of the lady in black, after her loss of control.

Your first shared release was much more than you were looking for, more than you wanted. Your whole body arched, twisting irremediably, held by her firm hands in your back, keeping you close to her.

Donna couldn't resist that sinful embrace of your walls around her and with a less discreet moan she also released herself, filling you with her warm seed, with a wet and slippery caress.

“Donna...” you sighed in relief, hugging her, resting your head on her shoulder and letting your body be cradled by hers. “Never stop being the light of my darkness…”

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter one

close to home | chapter one

plot: a nice introductory to the reader and a sense of who she is

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,287 Warnings: violence, blood A/N: thanks for checking out the first chapter! Just a nice quick introduction to the character :)

You’d woken to the sound of something thumping against the wood floor of your home and the loud meow of Tora. She’d taken it upon herself to catch breakfast for the two of you, a fat squirrel. After the unexpected meal the two of you shared, you knew what needed to be done. Today was run day. And you were out of water. 

So you geared up, an empty gray canvas pack on your shoulders, your one good gun strapped around your leg, a machete at your waist, and a few other knives hidden around your body. You were always prepared. 

The morning spring bite nipped at your cheeks when you stepped outside the tiny home. Your eyes scanned the ground below for any signs of the dead, and you listened for the rustling leaves of footsteps. But there was nothing. You were safe for now. 

It was easier climbing down the tree than up, though Tora made it look relatively easy. But you weren’t lucky enough to have claws to help you, so climbing down the rope was your only option. 

The rope slid easily enough through your leather glovelettes and soon your boots hit the ground. Tora was waiting for you, sitting by the main tree trunk holding your home. 

“Yeah, yeah,” You said to the cat, “Let’s go find water before we die of thirst, huh?” You said to the cat. 

It was silent as you walked towards the lake four miles from your home. The sky above you was full of puffy white clouds, and the trees around you kept you mainly in the shade. A few birds sang above in the treeline, and every so often, Tora chased a squirrel up the tree. By the time you reached the lake, you had two hanging from your belt, and the day was warming up. 

Licking the sweat off your upper lip, your knelt by the water’s edge and started filling up the empty plastic water bottles you had. Tora splashed around in the muddy, sandy mix of the lakeshore and chirped at the little fish that darted away from her. 

You chuckled to yourself and moved on to another bottle. The sun was now at the midpoint in the sky, and you scolded yourself for taking so long to get to the lake. The Georgia heat this spring seemed unforgivable, as if whatever God that sent this plague was sending another sick joke. The idea of summer being around the corner kept you up at night. You hated the heat. 

Just as the fourth bottle was filled, a branch snapped at the tree line. Then came the familiar moaning, and you looked up in time to see two deads headed your way. Tora hissed at the sight of them and darted toward the nearest tree. 

“Good girl, Tora,” You said, screwing the bottle shot and standing. It thudded to the ground, and you grabbed the machete and twirled it once in your hand. Your eyes darted between the dead as you worked out a plan. 

They were moving slowly, no doubt cause of the heat and decaying parts of their body. But still, they were persistent. The closest one attacked first, and you ducked, bending around its outreached arms and kicking it to the ground, just in time for the other one to reach you. Your machete hit the skull first, and the body dropped, giving you a second to pull it out.

Blood speckled your face like freckles as you turned and grabbed the last dead one by the throat. Its arms reached out to hold you, but you quickly ended it before it ended you. Its body joined its partner on the grass, and you flicked the machete before stabbing it into the ground, cleaning the blood off. 

You whistled a three-note tune and heard Tora meowing. The Maine coon cat was among the most intelligent animals you’d ever trained. 

“Come on, baby,” You said, “The day is just getting started.”

***

If your watch was correct, it was nearing four in the afternoon. This meant you had about four hours until sunset and were a long way from home. After the lake, you took the familiar southern trail to a small state park. A few abandoned RVs that you’d picked clean weeks ago told you that you were very close to a small town that was mostly deserted. 

You whipped the seat off your forehead as you approached one of the first buildings you’d have the courage to check out. It was a town hall building with nothing good except a few dead bodies. Apparently, small-town governments weren’t on the top evacuation lists. 

Tora trotted alongside you, her head just below your knee, and her hair matted from today’s journey. You’d have to brush it out for her when you return home. 

You ignored the town hall building and walked through the town's main street. It was utterly silent, save for the scuff of your boots and your cat's occasional meow or hiss. 

“Okay, last time we were here, we checked out the library,” You said to the cat, “I think we should check out the corner store next. Odds were that it’s been picked clean already, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. I also am going to need summer clothes….” You trailed off as you shielded your eyes from the sun. The morning clouds had grown darker, but the hot sun still managed to peak out. You heard some thunder in the distance but couldn’t tell how far or where it was coming from.

“If we need to make camp tonight, we can go to the library,” You said. You’d had to spend the night in the town several times, and the library was the safest place to get to. It was easy to climb to, and Tora was familiar with it. 

The corner store had a few things you could scavenge; a few Tylenol travel packets, some jerky you found underneath the shelves, and an assortment of lights and matchbooks. Tora even found something; the broken shopkeeper bell. 

Still, there was nothing you really needed. There was no ammo or water. Those were your top priorities. 

You checked a few other small shops; a gunshop, nothing, a bank, for the hell of it, and then finally a thrift store, where you found plenty of clothes. You took your time going through the section, trying to weigh out what was best for the summer heat. You needed to keep cool, but you needed to be protected. You found a couple shirts and shorts, new undergarments and socks. Your bag was filled to the brim, and you knew it was time to head back. 

“Crap,” You muttered when you walked back to the front door. Tora meowed in her own disapproving way. 

The sudden downpour and oncoming thunderstorm would keep you there tonight. Tora wouldn’t venture into the rain unless absolutely necessary, and you felt the same way. 

“At least we found some jerky,” You said. 

It wasn’t hard to build up a makeshift camp in the building. Dozens of once-donated blankets provided ample bedding for you and Tora, and there were enough books to get a small fire going in the back of the building. With only four bottles of water, you took ample care of gutting and cleaning a squirrel for dinner for the two of you. It wasn’t long before you put the fire out and settled in for the night. 

[thisisourlovestory]

Daylight

part 3- the chronicles of a stargirl and her sun masterlist

Luke Castellan x reader

Summary- Sometimes you’ve just gotta get up and watch the sun

Word count- 2.8k

Taglist:

@abbersreads @tenshis-cake @lol6sposts if you want to be added just let me know!!

“That the best you've got?” You laughed as you sidestepped the jab of a sword. “C’mon I know you can do so much better. What happened to best swordmaster in three hundred years?” You changed your voice slightly and grinned at the affronted look on Luke's face.

“I do not sound like that.”

“Yeah you do, don't lie to yourself meus sol. You have a baby voice and that's okay.” You twirled out of the way of another stab.

“But seriously you're going easy on me.” He opened his mouth but you continued without thinking. “And don't even try to say you aren’t because I’m actually breathing this time and not lying on the floor trying to get my heart rate down from a million beats a minute so I didn't die.” Luke grinned and lowered his sword.

“Now that was funny and you can't even deny it. You looked like a living, barely breathing tomato.” You glared at him, trying to hide the smile threatening to break out on your face.

“Of course you would take pleasure in my pain. Just like Annabeth you are.” Luke smiled and rolled his eyes.

“So dramatic stargirl. And if you really don't want me to go easy on you then who am I to deny your request.” His smile morphed into a full blown grin, mischief danced in his brown eyes and you immediately regretted your words but held your sword in front of you with one hand, waiting for him to make the first move.

He darted towards you, bringing his sword down as you raised your own up to meet him and they clashed with a loud clang. His eyes met your own as you twisted your wrist to fling his sword away from you. There was a sort of approval in them as he muttered quietly.

“Not bad stargirl. Not bad at all.” Then they were alight with determination as he swung his sword in a wide arc that had you springing back to avoid the sharp end sinking into the skin of your stomach. You retaliated quickly, thrusting your weapon forward only for him to block the blow and kick you back gently. You both continued like this for a while, trading blows one after the other. Strike, block, repeat. Beads of sweat were dripping down your face, pieces of hair coming loose from the plait you had tied it up in earlier sticking to your forehead and cheeks. You couldn't help the way your eyes strayed from Lukes movements to his face, idly taking in the way his eyes sparked with fire, his hair beginning to stick to his own forehead and the grin stretched across his lips as he said something that didn't quite reach your ears. And because you were distracted by looking at Luke, you didn't quite notice in time when his eyes lit with a quiet triumph and he lunged forward.

Pain shot through your arm and you dropped your sword in shock. You lifted your arm up only to see a river of red flowing down, pooling in your bent elbow and spilling over onto the sawdust. You winced as the cut throbbed, the ebb and flow of blood gathering at the surface of your skin and dripping down was quite disconcerting as you scrambled to understand what had actually happened. You blinked, feeling slightly nauseous at the sight of the blood, it wasn't that you were afraid of blood or anything per se, it was just the sheer amount that could come out of your body from the slightest cut that had you feeling sick. You swayed ever so slightly on the spot and suddenly Luke was beside you, wrapping an arm around you and leading you over to take a seat on the steps. You vaguely heard him say something about going to get some bandages but your mind was elsewhere, focused on the pain in your arm.

You felt warm hands on either side of your face, a voice, fuzzy in the darkness of your mind.

“Girl- star- stargirl,” The voice insisted, “Stargirl look at me. Y/N look at me.” You snapped out of it at the use of your name, your eyes finding Lukes immediately. His eyes were filled with worry and regret and something else that you can't quite put your finger on. “Hey, hey, you good?” He asked, keeping his gaze locked on yours as you nodded wordlessly in affirmation. “I need to wrap your arm up okay.” You held your arm out in front of you and he inhaled quickly at the sight before shaking it off and bringing out a wipe. “This might sting.” He warned as he started to clean the blood off your arm, eventually he dragged it over the cut and you hissed quietly at the burning sensation. As soon as the blood was cleared from the cut more started to well up and Luke cursed under his breath. He reached for a roll of gauze and began to wrap it around your forearm, it immediately stained red and he continued to wrap it until the red was covered and all you could see was the plain white of the bandage against your arm.

“I'm sorry,” Luke mumbled, his fingers tracing over the line where you knew his blade sank into your skin as if it were butter, “I'm so sorry stargirl, I didn't,” He sighed deeply, raising a hand to push his hair out of his face, “I'm sorry.” He finished lamely, sitting on his heels in front of you.

“S’alright meus sol.” You managed a smile. “It was an accident.” He shook his head.

“Doesn't matter, I still hurt you even if I didn't mean to and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, I swear to you that I didn't mean for it to happen and-” You cut him off abruptly, leaning forward to grab his hands and twine your fingers with his own.

“You didn't do it on purpose meus sol.” You whispered forcefully. “I'm fine, it was just a small cut and I'll be right as rain in a few days.” You smiled lightly. “You don't need to ask for forgiveness. You have it, always.” Luke looked up at you, his eyes dark.

“But I-”

“Stop being a drama queen Luke, I'm not going to die from a cut made in training. Although I'm not opposed to making you grovel a bit for forgiveness.” You mused, a grin spreading across your lips. “Wait actually if there's ever a next time you have to give up all your strawberry pie to me for a month.”

“A month!” He exclaimed. “No way. I am not giving up that pie to you for a full bloody month.” You pouted slightly, allowing your bottom lip to tremble a bit and your eyes to gloss over with tears.

“But meus sol-” Those three words combined with the look you gave him were all it took for him to fold.

“Okay, you can have my strawberry pie. You can have as much as you want just please don't hate me.” You beamed and threw yourself into him, hugging him tightly.

“Could never hate you meus sol. You're my best friend.” Luke let out a shuddering breath and hugged you tighter, his voice muffled as he spoke into your hair.

“Yeah, you're mine as well stargirl.” You hummed happily, inhaling deeply, the calming scent of what was just utterly Luke washed over you as he moved you both to sit down on the stone steps. He shifted you around in his arms so your head was tilted back onto his shoulder, your legs thrown over his own and his left hand still entwined with yours so you were both comfortably entangled in a jumble of limbs. It was silent for a moment as you sat peacefully, his right hand twisting the loose strands of your hair around his index finger and you tracing circles on his arm. Luke broke the silence first.

“Why do you call me meus sol?” You smiled slightly at the question, your eyes misting over at the memory.

You were dreaming, finally drifting through the realm of Morpheus like a feather on the wind. You settled down on an island filled with mythical creatures- pure white unicorns, golden dragons, grinning mermaids. The noise they made washed over you, screeches and neighs and hissing laughter suddenly interrupted by the whisper of your name, repeated insistently by a disembodied voice until the island faded and you woke up.

You blinked slowly awake as someone poked your cheek, repeatedly saying your name each time. You scrunched your nose and turned over in bed coming face to face with the grinning culprit who woke you up.

“Why?” You mumbled. “Just why?”

“I've got something to show you. So get up.” You turned back over and wrapped a blanket around yourself.

“Go away.” In response you immediately found yourself shivering as the warmth was ripped away from you.

“I’ll take you to pick strawberries later.” You shot up and rolled onto the floor with flailing arms and legs. You glared up at Luke from your new spot on the floor as he doubled over laughing quietly so he didn’t wake anyone else by accident.

“I’m sorry, you just- that.” You rolled your eyes and stood up, brushing dirt off your sleep shorts and tank top.

“Well what do you have to show me that you needed to wake me up at this ungodly hour?” Luke grinned and took your hand, dragging you out of the cabin and through the trees to the beach. He sat down on the cold sand at the shoreline, pulling you down next to him and pointed to the horizon.

“Just watch.” So you watched.

The sun rose slowly, casting a golden glow across the calm waves that sparkled like crystals in the light. Pink, purple, orange and yellow seemed to erupt from the sea, painting the deep blue of the sky in their bright colours as you watched transfixed by the patterns they seemed to form in the air. A small smile spread across your face as you leaned back on your arms, tilting your head up to look at Luke next to you. He was gazing out to sea, the sun hitting his face perfectly, lighting it up gold. He looked happy, free. All at once a surge of happiness hit you, you were happy at camp, you were happy with Annabeth and Luke and the chaos that occurred daily. More than that it made you happy. If you left it would be as if all the happiness was sucked out of your life. Luke turned his head and smiled at you.

“So what do you think?” He questioned softly. “Was it worth me waking you up at such an ungodly hour?” He raised his voice a pitch and you frowned.

“I don’t sound like that.” You protested, smacking him as he laughed.

“Sorry, sorry. But really, do you like it?” Your gaze softened as you looked out over the sea again, silver fish jumping out of the waves and hovering mid air for a second.

“Yeah, yeah I like it.”

“Cool, I hoped you would.” He coughed slightly. “Y’know I think you might be my best friend stargirl.” You hummed.

“Well that's a good thing because I think you might be mine Luke.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever had many friends before.” You shrugged.

“Ditto, the whole weirdo demigod thing always seems to scare people off.” He tilted his head back.

“Shame that.” You pushed his shoulder playfully, your breath catching slightly as he grinned back at you.

You gasped suddenly as a wave of cold sea water ran up your legs and you shuffled back on the sand.

“What stargirl, afraid of a little bit of water?” You gave him an incredulous look.

“No, it’s just cold.” He raised an eyebrow and reached out but you scooted further away shaking your head. “Nuh uh. No way are you making me go in there.”

“Who said I was gonna?” He asked innocently, tilting his head to the side like a puppy. You jumped to your feet and began to run up the beach. He caught up to you in seconds, wrapping his arms around your stomach and carrying your kicking form into the sea. You clung to him like a monkey, staring at him with pleading eyes before he dumped you into the water. You surfaced gasping, clothes stuck to your body and wet hair draped over your shoulders as you splashed water at him. Soon it was a full on battle, each of you drenching each other in water over and over again, ‘It doesn’t really matter if I get any wetter at this point’ you thought as you shrieked when he tacked you, pulling you both beneath the surface.

When you both finally dragged yourselves up the beach after the water fight you were breathless from laughter, salt sticking to your skin as it dried, white crystals appearing to light up under the warm rays of the sun. You collapsed onto the sand, the sun having heated it up slightly sending a tingle up your spine and you shivered as a sudden gust of wind swept across the beach. Luke immediately handed you his sweater and you pulled it on, muttering your thanks as you tugged it over your legs and hugged your knees. He sat next to you, shaking his head so that he sprayed shining droplets of water everywhere and dark, damp curls stuck to his forehead. In that moment he looked so…pretty, you supposed. Eyes crinkled as his smile widened, skin glowing gold as the sun shone down brighter on him making it seem as if he was the one radiating the light. And the longer you looked at him the more you realised just how easily he had managed to worm his way into your life, you had gone from strangers to best friends in just under a month, hell he’d given you a nickname the second time you spoke to each other, you hadn’t allowed anyone to give you one of those since- well since ever. His eyes locked on you as you leaned into him for warmth, his sweater engulfing your shivering form. He wound an arm around your shoulders and realised much the same as you just had. You had carved a little piece out of his heart and inserted yourself in its place; he wouldn’t have it any other way, you just got him like nobody else had. He often found himself looking for you across the archery fields, seeking you out when Annabeth jabbered on about some new fixation and mouthing for help as you laughed at him only to glare when he directed Annabeths attention towards you.

Your voice interrupted his thoughts.

“We should probably go back now, people will be waking up.” He nodded slowly, both of you stood up in sync and began to walk back up the sand dunes, his arm still slung over your shoulder. “That was fun, despite the wake up call you gave me. We should do it more often meus sol.”

He didn’t bat an eye at the name you gave him.

“How does once a month sound?” You grinned and held out your pinky finger.

“Deal.” He linked his pinky with yours and you shook on it.

You shrugged.

“It suits you.”

“Well what does it mean?” You broke out into peals of laughter. “We don’t all have professors for parents stargirl, excuse me for not knowing how to speak a different language.” You nudged him.

“I could teach you.”

“I doubt you’d be a very good teacher stargirl.” You gasped in mock outrage.

“I would be a fantastic teacher thank you very much, it’s you who would be the terrible student.” Luke raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve seen you trying to teach kids archery. It doesn’t end well.” You went silent for a second.

“You might have a point there.” Luke pinched your arm lightly.

“You’ve diverted from the subject. Why do you call me that?”

“Well why do you call me stargirl?” He froze for a moment and brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“Like I said, it suits you.”

“That’s not a proper answer meus sol.” You craned your neck to look up at him.

“Neither was yours.” You huffed and pushed yourself to a standing position, crossing your arms and looking down at him.

“Let’s just say that it’s my way of saying you’re my best friend.” He grinned.

“And I’ll say the same.” You shook your head.

“You’re ridiculous meus sol.” His grin widened at your words as he stood up and slung an arm over your shoulders, starting to lead you over to where Annabeth was waving madly at you both.

“But you love it stargirl.”

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you (I can never look away) I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you (Things will never be the same)

[yellowbunnydreams]

So Bunny Ears won the HeadCannon poll by a fair margin! Don't worry Vamp!Will fans, I'll also do one for him and the AU at a later point, but of course, I must write for our soft husband first.

William loves fruit flavoured candies, specifically gummy candies

However he does keep a bag of jolly ranchers in his desk drawer and enjoys freaking people out when he crunches them rather than letting them melt.

He was punk in college and occasionally puts his tongue piercing back in to stop it from closing. He has however swallowed the ball for it too many times to count.

He loves pecan pie, especially the kind with whipping cream and caramel drizzle

At some point during a drunken dinner, Henry tried to convince him to get matching Fredbear and Spring-Bonnie tattoos. Henry went first and William went home.

When he's sick, William turns into a grumpy(ier) man. Refuses to take sick days and might take some cold-and-flu medication if he feels super ill. Henry and Sarah have absolutely had to drag his ass to urgent care to force him to see a doctor on multiple occasions.

In college he was one of those people who could not revise for anything and then aced all his assignments, even if he didn't turn up to class.

Holds the high-score in 'Fruity Maze' and honestly a shocking amount of the arcade games, and no he doesn't use the cheats even though he knows all of them because he has to debug the machines after kids try to manipulate them for cheats.

His full name is William David Afton, although he usually misses out his middle name because he's not a huge fan of it.

Not an openly humorous man, but he loves inside jokes with people. He particularly enjoys flustering a certain new girlfriend, and gleefully remembers when the whole ID incident occurred between them.

NSFW HeadCannons under the cut

William Afton absolutely goes feral for lingerie. More specifically, he loves ripping it to show off how strong he is, and the more expensive the better as he knows he can just afford to buy you new ones if you want them.

Call him 'sir' and he'll loose that extra bit of control, he likes the authority he has not as your boss, but that he can show you all those skills he's learnt behind closed doors.

That man has SUCH a biting kink. He wants to mark you up and let people see who you belong to and that it was passionate, it's also a bit of a trust thing since it's stupidly easy for a man of his size to accidentally be a little too rough and break skin.

Don't even get him started on cock-warming. He's definitely not fantasised about having you in his lap and warming him up whilst he tries to teach you how to fix the animatronics.

Has an oral fixation. It's part of the reason for loving gummy candies, but he certainly isn't going to complain if he can put that fixation to tasting you in any way possible. Kissing, biting, eating you out. He's all too happy to do it all. When you bit his ring off, he went absolutely feral knowing that your pretty mouth could become fixated too.

[jadeleechsupportgroup]

Bittersweet

malleus as therapy.

cw: mental illness, suicide mention/ideation, overdose mention, psychological trauma. no gore or horror though.

(wrote this a while ago. based on a real life event for me.)

“It is difficult for me to understand.”

Malleus’s voice draws me out of the fog of my own mind and back to reality like the tether of a wayward life preserver. I wonder what he would think of this comparison.

“What is?” I ask, hoping not to make it too obvious that I wasn’t listening. I was, at first. I just have a lot going on right now. I always do.

He slow-blinks, catlike, lizardlike, dragonlike, his spring green eyes focusing on me a bit more purposefully. “That humans treat birthdays as occasions to celebrate,” he says, possibly repeating himself, to my sheepish guilt. “They have such short lifespans, yet they are so eager to lose another year each time.”

“Oh.” I clutch my stomach. I feel sick, and not because I ate too much cake. “Well, it’s not that simple. I-”

Deuce and Ace and Grim have started a conga line. I instinctively wince away from the noise, even though they're my best friends and I love seeing them happy, because the whole room is too loud and too close and I really think I might hurl.

“I, um, I’ll be right back.”

I set my paper plate aside and dart - slink - scrabble away from the chaos. I feel an episode coming on, or maybe it’s been playing for a while now, like a show I put on Netflix and left forgotten on autoplay until it asks me if I’m still watching. The brambles of unwanted memories tug at me with sharp fingers.

I wind up in the Diasomnia courtyard. It has benches under trees. It has a fountain. It has fog because of course it does, it’s Diasomnia. I sit on a bench and shut my eyes and grit my teeth against the acid burning through my stomach.

[ ping ]

My phone wants my attention. Normally it’s superglued/surgically attached to my hand, and muscle memory politely shoves me toward checking it, but I can’t look.

[ ping ] [ ping ] [ ping ]

The messages flicker before my eyes as clearly as when I first read them.

[ ping ]

It was weird, I had thought at the time. A couple vague posts from my friends popped up in my feed at random. Eventually I messaged one to find out what happened.

[ ping ] [ ping ]

Overdose, they’d said. Insulin and antidepressants. A month’s supply of hoarded medications. Suddenly the posts made awful sense. Claws gripped my heart and made it hard to breathe.

[ ping ]

“I had almost forgotten that humans can tell lies.”

Malleus’s voice startles me out of my woeful thoughts. “What?” I ask stupidly.

He gazes down at me. His features are shrouded by the dark, but I can see the downward turn of his mouth and feel the intensity of his eyes. He’s concerned. “You said you would be right back.”

I turn away from him and look at the ground. “Sorry,” I mumble. “You wanna sit down?”

He does. His presence warms the air next to me. I want to isolate myself - it’s so easy - but I make myself scoot closer to him so he can at least hold my hand.

“A lot of people hate birthdays,” I blurt out abruptly. “Like, they gripe about getting older, usually.”

My hand curls up tighter. He’s so different from me, all soothing heat and composure and grace to my sharp edges and cold, jittery nightmare of an existence.

“Is that what troubles you?” he asks quietly. His voice helps.

“No.” My voice wobbles, about to fall off the balance beam. This was not how I pictured having this conversation. In fairness, I had hoped it was a conversation I would never need to have. “A couple years ago. Something bad happened.”

Malleus is yet unfamiliar with many a human habit and social convention, but it seems he has learned at least one from me. He lifts one arm and rests it along the back of my shoulders.

My voice goes strangely cold and steady.

“My friend died. Killed herself. She overdosed and had seizures for ten days until they took her off life support the day before my birthday.”

The words linger like the bitter fog of my breath in the air. He says nothing.

“I hate my birthday now. I’m mad at her for doing this to me. I hate myself for being mad at her. I hate it because it could’ve been-”

My voice hitches as if caught on a sharp edge. If I open my mouth to try again, I know I’ll choke on tears.

“It could have been you?”

He poses the question as delicately as the touch of a fallen petal.

I’ve already cried over this so much that I don’t think I can ever cry again. But I’m finding it hard to breathe, the air escaping from my chest in erratic puffs of visible vapor.

[ ping ]

I hated the group chat they’d made. A dozen semi-strangers propping each other up with worthless promises that she would be okay, even though I knew the moment I heard the news that she wouldn’t make it. So many people lamenting how sad it was. So many “my door is always open”s.

“I think I understand.”

Malleus speaks close to my ear. I fall into his embrace as though collapsing under the weight of my words.

“It is not about celebrating the loss of a year,” he says in a soft murmur, “but the completion of one that might have been lost.” He strokes my hair. “As if conquering a great foe in battle.”

“Mhm. Slaying the dragon.”

It’s out of my mouth before I can stop it. But he laughs.

“I should hope not. It is my birthday, after all.”

“Yeah. Sorry I’m making you miss it.”

“All is well.” He leans his head against mine. “I do not believe I am missing anything.”

I want to accept this as a wistful sentiment, but I make myself stand up. “Well, contrary to popular belief,” I say, taking both of his hands in my own, “birthday parties aren’t exclusively for you.” I give a light tug to pull him to his feet, and he rises with the poise of a dancer. “They’re also for your friends to eat cake and play games and be super obnoxious. So you shouldn’t leave them hanging.”

I never thought I would find the lights and crowd noise of a party welcoming, but I welcome it. Malleus keeps a hand around my shoulders - protective, comforting - until he’s certain I’ve recovered enough to stand on my own. I’m not quite up to joining the conga line, but I help myself to another slice of cake and some bonbons and a cup of punch.

“Feeling better?”

Lilia winks into existence next to me.

I’ve given up asking how he did that or when he showed up or anything else to the tune of fact-checking him against reality. “I forget you two can hear a pin drop in the next zip code,” I say as flatly as I can.

He gives a light laugh and pats my head. “I only want to make sure you are well,” he says.

“I think given my track record it’s safe to say that I’ve never been very well, Lilia.”

A strange expression settles over his eyes. Something knowing. Something…aged.

“It is never easy to face a monster in battle,” he says. “No matter your experience, your skills, your preparation- every confrontation is unique.”

I hold eye contact with him and sense I am speaking to a very different man.

“Do you know the meaning of bravery, young one?”

“Something something not being afraid of things?” I offer.

His smile politely declines my suggestion. “Silver made that mistake as well.” Lilia reaches over and taps me on the nose. “To be fearless is not to be brave, child of man. True courage lies in having fear and choosing to fight regardless of it.”

My gaze sweeps back to Malleus. Sebek is losing any composure he might have had due to a smear of frosting marring his lord’s white blazer. I look down at the half-finished cake in front of me. “It never stops, does it?” My voice comes out in a half-whispered croak. “I’ll never win.”

Lilia ruffles my hair. “You won’t know unless you try, young one.” His smirk never wavers, but it looks more genuine. “Besides,” he says with a knowing glance at my band of idiots - Grim balancing precariously atop Ace’s shoulders and trying to place a birthday tiara around Malleus’s horns - “it is hardly as though you are fighting alone.”

[yandere-wishes]

✾Sweet Like Morning-Glory ✾

💚Summary: There's a melody humming within your bones. A tune Baizhu strums with his needles and drugs. The ballade sings of a love more deadly than any toxin. 

💚Author's note: Requested by my darling @fangirl-katwithclaws hope you enjoy it, Love!!~ 💜

💚Warnings: drugging, intoxicants, narcotics, reader is dazed.  

You wake up wrong. Half dead and half alive with none of the glory. 

You feel broken, cleaved as if someone dissembled you and then tried to re-assemble you in a hurry. Erroneously forging pieces that do not fit. There's a thumping in your head and in your right arm. A reminder of a memory long since forgotten. 

There's a squeaking noise, the door sliding heavily against the wooden floorboards. It's too loud. Actually, now that you think about it, everything feels too loud. The birds, the crickets, the mysterious tune that haunts the Liyue streets. Everything feels like lost notes ambushing your lagging encephalon.

You turn your head to the source of the noise, watch as the door opens ever so agonizingly slow. There's green and gold and a flash of white that enters the room. Him. The only thing that stands out in a sea of blurry colors too vivid to process. Him. The one who's always at the forefront of your brain no matter how sluggish you feel. 

Baizhu sits on the edge of your shared bed, his easy smile ever present on his pale face. He leaves the tray of food on your lap and raises both hands to cup your cheeks, pressing a soft kiss on your cracked lips. 

There's something wrong with the way Baizhu tastes. His kisses are bitter. All molten violetgrass and qingxin flowers. It's like the toxins from his soul are seeping into you, it takes unprecedented self-control you didn't know you possessed to remain still within his grasp. He mutters something against your lips, something lighthearted and sweet. Like the first fresh breeze of spring. Only it's fall now or is it winter? Everything is getting so hard to recall. 

To all of Liyue, you are known as Baizhu's sick bride. The one with limbs stiffer than her stepdaughter's and a foggy memory to boot. In actuality, you do not know how you gained such a title. Your memories tend to be nothing more than faint echos and ebony slates of confusion. You can't even properly recall how you met Baizhu, let alone how you married him. All you remember is a phrase, the first I love you Baizhu said. Albit with diffrent words and a much diffrent phrasing. 

"My what lovely veins you have."

If thoughts would be permitted to linger in your mind for longer than mere seconds, then maybe, just maybe that phrase would have seemed off to you. Something all so wrong about finding beauty under one's skin. But your thoughts are never consistent enough to draw such intricate conclusions. Instead, you nuzzle into Baizhu's touch, trying to ground yourself. Baizhu plucks something small of the breakfast tray and pops it into his mouth. He waits a heartbeat before kissing you again. Slipping something round into your mouth. 

You can almost feel your pulse fade. 

It's warm in Bubu pharmacy, too warm. You feel like your skin is melting off your bones. "it's too warm" you mumble, eyes unfocused staring at the front entrance of the pharmacy. Your mind is spinning, out of control like a crashing bird. 

You lean back against your husband, resting your head on his shoulder. 

Baizhu's hand finds its way to your head, entwining his fingers into your hair. You permit a heavy whine to escape your throat, a dry muffled noise that briefly catches the attention of some of the patrons. "Baizhu, please" you mutter, desperate to leave the lively room. 

Sometimes you vaguely recall a time when the presence of others hadn't been so suffocating. When you'd laughed with the people of the harbor and basked in their sweet company. Only when you had met Baizhu had socializing become so taxing. An exhausting affair your sweet lover helped you avoid. At times, in rare bouts of clarity, it almost felt as if Baizhu had planned this. As if he held the blame for your metamorphosis into a hermit. 

And if you were ever conscious enough to care it may have been a problem... 

Qiqi runs in, leaving her basket of fresh herbs on a chair. She runs over to you, lifting her arms. You wrap your arms around her waist and try to pull her up. She's getting heavier you note, albeit you're sure you are, in fact, the one getting weaker. 

"Qiqi, darling. Maybe it's best you take Mommy to her room. I'll join you shortly once Gui arrives." 

Qiqi nods and reaches to hold your hand. Walking idly by you, hand in hand, as you escape the suffocating room. 

You wonder if Qiqi appreciates your lethargy. Lolls in knowing there is another like her. Someone stiff and sick and with a mind too slow to process nothing more than idle commands. 

There's mold festering inside her. A rigor mortis she can not beat. Her body betrays her at every step. Yet ultimately she is the true traitor, the one who didn't honor her body's dying wish. You wonder if Qiqi even fully comprehends what being a zombie entails. You wonder if you wholly understand it yourself. 

Maybe you had died a long time ago too, maybe Baizhu had found a way to resurrect you. That would account for the constant stiffness and memory lapses. It made more sense than this malady he kept going on about. A haunting hollowness dances across the darker corners of your heart. It twirls and pirouettes to the tune of anticipation. Maybe this darkness has always been a wrathful death. Cheated from claiming you for the grave. 

Your room is quiet, a contrast to the morning. The shadows slither across the walls as you wait patiently for Baizhu. You'd sent Qiqi off to her room. Hoping she'd busy herself with doctor dolls she so fancied. Your eyes trained on the door. Mind empty except for rouge thoughts of him. The way his warm hands feel so good against your burning skin. How gentle he is with you as if you'd been made from glass. You love him. You're sure you do. 

Baizhu slips in quietly. Closing the door and shutting out the world. 

He sits next to you on the bed. Hands ghosting over your body. 

It feels like your skin doesn't fit correctly over your bones. 

"You're so beautiful like this". There's a needle between his fingers, held with all the percussion in the world. Beads of vivid green drip from the tip, a sacrifice to perfection. 

If Baizhu could he'd pluck the flesh off your limps just to catch a glimpse of your porcalin white bones. he'd open their shells and kiss the marrow resting within. You remember him detailing that in a loose breath once. How gorgeous you'd be unskinned. How he'd love to kiss every part of you hidden behind your delicate skin. It's something from the past, or something from the future, too hard to fully remember. He does tend to fanaticize out loud all too often.  

Baizhu pulls you closer, taking kisses from your shoulder to the depression of your elbow. There he sucks, prepping the vein. Another dose gentily spills into you and he kisses your lips passionately. 

Your eyes remain open. Taking him in, in his entirety. 

You blame the archons, the green they used for his hair is much too vibrant. The acid-like tone has surely bled into his soul. Filling it with venoms. Venoms he can't help, in turn, leaking into his lover.

You're mind grows dimmer as Baizhue's kisses grow hotter. His voice a fading star as he breathes out your name. 

"My sweet, sweet darling, out like a wilted rose I see."

[darlingsfandom]

Good Service

Note: This was privately requested . Not proofread

TW: piss kink( IF YOU DONT LIKE IT, DONT READ IT), dirty talk, fingers in mouth !

The sun had set on the horizon which meant that it was time for you to clean yourself up from cleaning all day. Being the Shelby’s maid was pretty easy since they did clean up after their selfs for the most part.

You had put your cleaning supplies away in the closet and had taken a deep breath before making your way down to the end of the hall to hide away in your room until morning came. On your way something made you stop before you heard your name being yelled out. It was normal for one of the members to call for you after hours because they needed something like a drink but this call made you shiver, it was laced with anger.

“Y/N!” You looked over your shoulder to see Thomas standing there with his nostrils flared. He signaled you over to him and you made your way quickly to him. He scanned you up and down before turning on his heel and made you follow him to his bathroom.

“Do you enjoy your job Y/N?” Thomas placed his hands on his hips.

“Yes Mr.Shelby , I’m beyond thankful that you let me work here let alone stay here …”

“Then why can’t ya do yer job!” He pointed to the sink of his bathroom. You batted your eyelashes in disbelief as you seen some grime that you swore you had cleaned earlier. Maybe it was during the delivery? You looked back at Thomas with pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry Mr.Shelby ! I swear I cleaned that earlier! “

“I’m aware ya were in here, everything else looks decent enough. Yer just lucky I’m in a good mood and that I even hired ya because your father gave ya to me as a thank you we’ll call it.” His lips curved into a smirk while he circled you slowly. Suddenly he had you down on your knees looking up at him. “Since ya like to keep things dirty, you should be dirty too.” Tommy unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers to let his cock spring free.

“Mr.Shelby… I don’t seem too… OH MY GOD!” You felt the warm liquid soaking through the top of your dress.

“Shut up you whore, you’ll take my piss and clean it.” He shook his cock a little admiring how you sat there dripping with his piss. Tommy stepped closer being careful not to step in it before he grabbed the back of your head and pushed it close to the head of his cock. “Go on! Clean my piss you disgusting whore!” Your eyes watered a little before wrapping your lips around the head. You could taste the golden liquid that was still on his cock and it made you shiver. “See you’re being useful! This is good service.” He watched in amazement as you suckled the head of his cock but that wasn’t enough, he pushed your head all the way down his cock making you gag. You dug your nails into his exposed thighs while he held your head down. “Take my cock! Only whores like you let their boss piss on them and use them like the little toys they are!” Tommy pulled you off making you gasp loudly before he shoved his fingers in your mouth. “Don’t even try to argue with me.”

You were crying off your mascara as Thomas twisted his fingers in your mouth. He pulled them out before wiping it across your chin. His hand wrapped around your arm and yanked you up to your feet before turning you around to bend you over the sink, flipped up your dress and smirked when he felt the wet spot on your panties.

“What a dirty girl you are, only sick little whores get off on getting pissed on and sucking cock!” Tommy swatted your ass with the back of his hand making you squirm, but he yelled at you to stay still and accept your punishment.

“I’m sorry Mr.Shelby!” You sobbed from the stinging on your ass.

“Damn right yer sorry! Do a better job! I didn’t take ya in out of the kindness of my heart .” Tommy smoothed his hand over your glowing red ass before slipping his fingers into the front of your panties, smirking as he felt your wetness coat his fingers. You held onto the sink tightly as Tommy worked you over with his fingers. He watched in the mirror how you kept your eyes shut as he twisted his fingers in and out. He grinned to himself how you wanted to fight it but all the pretty moans leaving your mouth said otherwise, how your hips were bucking against his fingers, you liked it! And truth be told Thomas had found your journal of dirty fantasies when he went looking for you.

“Oh come on sweetie, I’ve seen that little book of yours…” he whispered into your ear which made your eyes shoot open.

“Mr.Shelby… I…”

“Save it! Who knew my little maid was such a filthy girl ? And don’t you dare think this is the only one I read about your little piss kink… I’m going to make all of your little desires come true.” Tommy bit your ear as he fingered you faster which was enough to send you over the edge. He smirked to himself before yanking his fingers back to suck on them while you laid hunched over the sink. “Now be a good little slut, clean up your mess then come back and finish me off. Show me how good your service really is.”

[dira333]

Sakusa Kiyoomi, please ❤️

Number 15 (because it's one of my favorites and his time skip jersey number) 😚😚😚

Well of course - and thank you for coming through -

Technicolor Beat - Oh Wonder

Come settle down, settle down

let loose your glow

There’s a downside to being successful, cautious, determined.

His brain just won’t shut up.

Can he call it free time if he spends it thinking through possible attacks? 

Kiyoomi’s determined to get as much rest as needed yet falling asleep doesn’t come easy to a mind like his.

Until he meets you.

And I feel life for the very first time

Love in my arms and the sun in my eyes

Your laughter rings in his ears as he tumbles into the cold water. 

Going to the beach for a day sounded great when you proposed it. Even better when you slipped out of your sundress, toes in the sand, hair whipping in the wind. 

The beach is almost deserted, the spring sun barely strong enough to warm the sky. But your eyes could convince him to do greater sins than driving to the beach on his day off.

Kiyoomi comes back up, sputtering, locks sticking to his skin. You’re laughing so hard you’re doubling over. Your guard is down. 

Before you know it, he’s pulled you in too.

The cold water is a lot more bearable with your warm skin beneath his fingertips, your arms slung around his shoulders.

I feel safe in the 5 am light

You carry my fears as the heavens set fire

“Go to sleep,” you mumble, your hands raking through his hair.

Kiyoomi hasn’t had a panic attack in months. He’d hoped to get over it if he kept up the diet, the exercise, the daily journaling, the breathing techniques. He’d hoped you’d never have to see him like this.

But even though he should probably feel like the failure he is, he feels safe.

As if all the germs and sorrows, all the sicknesses and anxieties cannot reach him as long as your arms are holding him. 

“Will you be there when I wake up?” He asks, dares to voice it out loud. 

You kiss the crown of his head. “Where else would I be?”

Jump into the heat

Spinnin' on our feet

In a technicolour beat

You and me

Caught up in a dream

In a technicolour beat

You wouldn’t have come here without him. Which is utterly ridiculous because you’re way better at dealing with crowds, loud noises and the disgusting reality of working in hospitality. Also, your friends had planned all of this. 

But he’s here, with you, swaying to the beat of some obscure song he’s never heard before as you giggle, head pressed against his shoulder.

If Komori could see him now, he probably wouldn’t believe it.

Sakusa Kiyoomi, in a disco, dancing.

But despite his fears and phobias, he’s actually enjoying it. Your dress is so nice, swinging when you move, and your lipstick looks just as good as it tastes. Your body is warm and heavy and reassuring where you lean into him and even though the world around him is bathed in a technicolour light, all he can see… is you.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[rorywritesjunk]

Remember us just like this forever

You made a mistake and Buggy has to clean it up.

Rating: PG

Warning: Bodily fluids, caring for a baby, Buggy is horrified.

Word count: 1620

A/N: My first request since opening them! This was so cute. Buggy taking care of kids and being out of his element is my favorite thing.

Title comes from "Flu Game" by Fall Out Boy

It was all Buggy’s fault this time even though outwardly he wouldn't admit it, internally he knew it was. The water from that spring was said to have magical properties, there was even a damn sign saying do not drink, but he collected some of it anyway. Magical water could come in handy, right?

Why didn't he label the damn bottle? Why didn't he hide it? Why did he leave it out where you would find it and take a drink because you were thirsty?

Sitting before him on the wooden deck of the Big Top was you, surrounded by your clothes as you stared up at him. He stared down his nose at you, wondering what the hell what the hell what the hell -

You smiled a big, gummy grin at him as you lifted your pudgy arms up to be held. Oh, oh, no. Buggy the Clown did not entertain babies. Kids? Sure, easy enough, but toothless little babies? No, no, nu uh. Even if it was you, he couldn't do it. He'd have to get Mohji or someone else to deal with you.

~

Mohji gave up after your three hour long cryfest. He passed you back to Buggy and took off, insisting Richie was sick and needed to be taken care of. At least Mohji dressed you. You had a makeshift diaper on and a rag with armholes and a neckhole cut out of it. It was not something Buggy would ever put a child in. It was not flashy or functional and simply wouldn't do.

You settled down once you were in his arms, letting out little whimpers and the occasional sniffle. Buggy didn't know what to do. Now that you weren't crying maybe he could pass you off to someone else?

He tried multiple times. Any time he tried to hand you over, the waterworks would start and you'd let out this unholy howl as if a demon had possessed you.

It wouldn't work, so he sent someone to find you some baby clothes because he was wondering what the smell was and… what was that warm feeling on his arm?

He moved you to his other arm and hoped you would be grateful he was a Chop Chop man because his arm popped off his body and rushed to the sink to wash off whatever it was you left on him. Were babies this gross? He didn't remember this happening with Oden and Toki’s little snivelling babies, but then again he distanced himself from those little creatures.

You looked up at him innocently as you started to suck your thumb. Buggy thought he was a malicious glint in your eye but maybe it was a trick of the light?

~

“Oh hell no! What did you eat?!” Buggy’s muffled shriek could be heard throughout the ship. “How can something so small make such a big mess?!”

The crew gathered around the door. He had made the loud announcement that he would change you now that he had some clothes and proper diapers for you. Had he ever done it before? No, hell no, but he could figure it out, right? It shouldn't be that hard.

“Are you- are you peeing while I'm changing you?! What is wrong with you!”

The crew immediately scattered, worried the captain would open the door and see them. As they fled, they could hear him let out a horrified scream.

“How did you get it in my hair?!”

~

This was the worst battle Buggy ever had.

He held the spoon against the tightly shut lips, trying to get you to at least have one spoonful of gross, mushy carrots, but your lips were sealed. You would not open them. You stared defiantly up at the captain as you pressed yourself back against his chest as he held you. He had no baby furniture so he decided to be your high chair (with plenty of towels in his lap just in case because he really didn't want to have to bathe again)

“Come on, don't be such a little shit.” He grumbled as he tried again. “You gotta eat something.”

You glared at him and shook your head. He would not be defeated. He remembered seeing some last so this with a kid once before and he hoped it worked.

He raised the spoon up, making it fly around your face, your eyes widening as you focused on it.

“Here comes the News Coo, ready to deliver the… news!”

The spoon buzzed around a bit more, your mouth opening in amazement, and Buggy shoved the spoon into your mouth, letting out a triumphant “Ha!” before you spat it back out.

“Are you kidding me?!”

~

He washed up again while you laid on his bed, babbling and trying to put your fists in your mouth as your eyes surveyed the area. He didn't want to be dealing with this even if you were a pretty cute baby when you weren't some unholy demon sent from the Underworld when you were unhappy. He heard enough demon screams coming from you in one day to last him a lifetime.

Buggy rubbed his face sleepily, wondering when or if you'd change back. He wasn't cut out for raising kids but at the same time, he was glad you were somewhere safe even if he was having to do everything.

The little cry you let out had him spinning around to look at you, wondering what was wrong. He had just pulled clean clothes on and was a little hesitant to hold you, but… you sounded unhappy, more sad than before, so he carefully picked you up, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you gripped his shirt and let out a few sniffles.

“What the hell, you don't make this much noise as an adult.’ He grumbled as he began to pace around his room slowly, bouncing you gently to try and soothe you. You continued to cry, rubbing your face against his once clean shirt, your cries too loud for you to hear his heavy, defeated sigh as his shoulders slumped. How many shirts will he go through with you?

“You gotta cut it out.” He ordered as he pulled you away and held you at arm's length. “Got it? Captain’s orders! You always listen to me!”

You paused for approximately one second before your eyes filled with tears and you let out the most heartbreaking wail.

“Listen, if anyone is gonna cry then it should be me for having to do this!” Buggy complained as he brought you back to him, putting a hand on the back of your head as he held you, once again pacing around his room to calm you. “I… I don't want to do this but I don't want you ending up as Richie’s snack by mistake!”

You snuffled and looked up at him, tears still streaming down your pudgy little cheeks. He wiped some away with his thumb.as he headed over to his bed. “I don't have a bed for you. You gotta share.” He laid you down in the middle before situating himself to one side, his hand resting on your stomach to keep you in place. “No moving around, got it?”

You just stared at him in response.

~

When he was up the next morning, you were gone.

Terrified, he sat up on his bed, head darting around as he looked for you. Did Richie eat you? Did something snatch you in the middle of the night?

Not that… it was a bad thing. You were a baby. He had you for one day and he saw more disgusting things come out of your tiny body during that time than he had his entire life so if you were gone, fine, so be it.

But what if you changed back in front of your kidnappers? They may hurt you or kill you. That certainly wouldn't do.

Buggy threw his clothes on and headed for the kitchen, ready to get the crew to come to your rescue, but to his relief and surprise you were sitting at the table, wearing his clothes (which admittedly looked good on you even if they looked snug). You were helping yourself to some scrambled eggs and toast, looking a little more tired than usual, but Buggy was relieved to see you.

“Mornin’ Captain.” You said with a mouthful of toast. “You're don't have any other weird things lying around that I might drink, do you?”

“How much do you remember?” Buggy asked cautiously as he went to start the coffee. He did hide the bottle after you helped yourself to it. He put it somewhere safe.

“Nothing really. I just… woke up naked in your bed.” You told him as you took another bite of toast. He looked horrified by what you said so you quickly added, “Mohji told me what happened. Thanks for lookin’ out for me.”

“Well, I just didn't want you to fall overboard or get eaten by Richie, that's all!” He said as he brought over some coffee for the both of you and took a seat. “Maybe you'll learn not to drink out of bottles that aren't yours.”

“Lesson learned.” You grinned. “Sorry if I made any messes. My parents told me I was a pretty gross baby, so hopefully it wasn't too bad for you.”

He tried not to think about everything that happened yesterday. He wasn't sure he'd be able to look you in the eyes ever again.

“Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Well, don't get used to it.” He grumbled as he leaned back with his own mug. “Now eat your breakfast. I got work for you to do.”

[bbboo556-blog]

Alright this is my first time writing EVER. Feel free to comment on any writing tips. I literally wrote this at 2am.

18+ MDNI GO AWAY

Toji wasn't a good man, and you knew that. He was almost always late to pay you and or short of cash. But how could anyone say no to cute little megumi. You craved his touch. Through short but longing glances, he knew that, too. But you were just the nanny. How could a woman be kicking her feet and twirling her hair at the thought of his large hands roaming her body? Yet there you were at home thinking about him. You knew that he wasn't thinking about you back. He probably had another woman as you held his son in your arms, trying to stop his poor little tears. You put him to bed and climbed into tojis. He typically never came back until the morning anyway and never complained when he saw you laying there before. Except it wasn't like any other night. He came home earlier than usual. He saw you sound asleep and smirked. As soon as you felt the sheets move, you quickly woke up.

"I'm sorry Toji I didn't think you'd be home so early."

"It's fine, doll face. It's still pretty late, you can just stay here with me. It's much safer that way."

You knew what game he was playing but you also knew he was right. It was a stupid idea that you knew would only end in one way. You climbed back into bed and layed on your side while facing Toji. The last thing you wanted to do was give him an easy view of your ass. It didn't stop his eyes from obviously wandering to your chest. For a moment you wondered if he knew he was being an obvious pervert. You could feel your face get warm after looking down to see what looked like a large bulge from his boxers. After what felt like a few minutes you both finally met each other's eyes. That goddamn smile of his worked wonders on you. Enough to miss him moving closer to you.

"Toji aren't you tired? it's pretty late."

"For you doll I could stay up all week if you want me too."

If only he wasn't your weakness would you have stopped what happened next. It started small with a peck on the lips. You didn't fight it at all. Slowly it became two kisses. By the third you could feel your arousal growing and a sharp shiver go up your spine. You gave up quickly not that Toji would ever complain. The make out session turned hot and heavy very fast. you could feel him pull you closer for a deeper kiss. You just wanted to take off that damn shirt of his. Hiding those precious abs you knew he had. You moved your hands to the hem of his shirt. He pulled away from the kiss to take off his shirt. Your jaw almost dropped from his massive pecs alone. He snapped his fingers to bring me back.

"Hey, don't think I don't wanna see you too. Show me that pretty body you think I don't notice."

You stood up to undress for him. First it was your pants. He made you turn around and bend over for good measure. It was embarrassing but so arousing. He could see the wet patch slowly growing.

"Damn you look delicious. Maybe I should just eat you out until you beg me to stop?"

Your eyes widened as you stood up straight. The next item was your top. You pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the ground. You could feel his eyes all over. Just to be safe you unhooked your bra. His eyes widened at the sight.

"Get back in bed...now."

You quickly jumped back into bed as he climbed on top of you. Soon enough it was back to kissing with his hands on your sensitive nipples. Part of you was nervous about your growing arousal since it was known to ruin bedsheets and panties. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he left hickeys all along your neck and chest. Your moans just added fuel to the blaze. You could feel his bulge growing bigger somehow. You were sick of the teasing so you took matters into your own hands. You pulled down his boxers letting his cock spring free. It was big just like him. He liked to return the favor and pulled down your panties being just as impatient. Your wetness soaking through your panties. He got a wicked look in his eye and put your panties up to his face to sniff them. His moan instantly made you hornier.

"That's the good stuff, pretty girl but I think it's better I eat the real thing."

And eat like a starved man he did. It was sloppy and made your toes curl. For such a fowl mouth he had a very skilled tongue. But you already knew that. You swear you could see stars just as you hit your climax. You tried to keep quiet not wanting to wake the poor baby. However, Toji was ruthless. He moved up to let you taste yourself as his cock moved to your entrance.

"You're so fucking wet I'm sure it'll slide right in. Just the way I like it."

He was mostly right. You hadn't been the most active lately so after a few pushes he bullied his way inside of you. Your back arched as you felt him bottom out.

"Oh fuck Toji"

Your wish was his command. If you were seeing stars before, now you could see the whole galaxy. His thrust started slow but hard and deep. He built up his momentum until he could properly pound away. You tried to return the pleasure by moving your hips with his or leaving scratch marks along his back but he was feral. Every thrust sends shivers up your spine. It was almost too wet, making a big mess on his cock and on his mattress. You felt overstimulated and weak to his power. If only it didn't feel so fucking good.

"Do you like that doll face?"

He said with a shit eating grin. You tried not to cry out or scream as a response but you did it anyway. What were words? unimportant. Your head was filled with nothing but lust. You could feel it in the pit of your stomach again. You were going to cum. He knew it and wanted every fucking drop of it.

"Is my pretty girl gonna squirt for me? I know you can do it. come on pretty girl I know you wanna do it for me".

His lewd words set you off. Suddenly everything became clear and bright. You made a big mess all over his sheets and abdomen. That nasty fucker didn't care. It made him want more. He pounded you through your orgasm until he pulled out and came all over you.

"That was so fucking sexy doll face. I'd go for more but you look fucked out".

You slowly nod your head in response.

"Here let me take care of the mess we made.''

He pulled out leaving you feeling empty. He picked you up and put you down on the counter in the bathroom. You grabbed a rag and wet it to clean yourself off. He changed the sheets and came back to check on you.

"How do you feel?"

"Amazing."

"Good."

He carried you back to bed after cleaning himself off.

"I hope you don't think that'll never happen again because it will." He gave you that same shit eating grin. Your hand gently touched his scar.

"Only if I get a goddamn raise."

You laughed as you both drifted off to sleep in each other's arms. You both had a lot to talk about in the morning.

[attitoadart]

Modern AU headcanon: Jean’s Bear Hat

It all started when Jean’s mom retired and finally found herself with more time on her hands. After beginning a much needed declutter of her house, she found stacks and stacks of pictures documenting her darling boy’s life and decided to join a local scrapbooking circle.

While working on a page dedicated to Jean’s first snow day, an older woman with kind eyes asked about Jean’s bear hat.

“Oh, the hat? I actually made it for him when he was a baby.” She smiles, looking at the picture and remembering how he loved the hat so much he insisted on wearing it past the winter, into the spring, and only relinquishing it in the summer when it became too hot.

“I wish I had one of those this upcoming week, it’s supposed to be freezing,” the old woman commented while bundling herself in layers preparing to face the cold.

This may have been just a passing comment to some, but to Jean’s mom this sparked another idea. She went to the craft store the next day and bought some new crochet hooks and yarn, filling her free time with even more crafting.

“I’m so excited for you to open your gift!” She beamed, handing a gift bag overflowing with tissue paper to her son and pulling him in for a big hug.

“Thanks mom, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Of course I had to, you’re my favorite child.”

“I’m your only child.” Jean smiled, rustling through the tissue paper until he reaches the gift at the bottom of the bag.

His eyebrows quirk inwards as he feels the knit texture and pulls out his new bear hat.

“Do you like it? I made it for you, just like the one you had when you were a baby!” She says, her eyes lighting up.

“I… uh…” Jean nods his head. “I love it, thanks mom.” He pulls her in for a hug and gives her a kiss on the cheek, knowing that his friends are going to tease him relentlessly for wearing his new hat when they meet up later.

“Nice hat, Jean-Bear,” Eren snickers as Jean walks over to meet his friends, everyone chuckling at his newest accessory.

“Shut up, Jeager. I have to wear it, my mom just gave it to me.”

“My mom just gave it to me,” Connie says mockingly, joining in on poking fun at his friend.

Sasha pulls out her phone and snaps a picture with the flash going off right in Jean’s face.

“Cut it out guys. I know it’s dumb, but she would be really upset if I didn’t wear it so I have to. Just pretend I’m not wearing it.”

“That’s not as easy as you think it is,” points out Armin, earning him a high five from Eren.

A gust of wind rips through the air, causing everyone to shiver. “See?” Jean points out, “I’m the only one who’s still warm, so suck it.”

They go through the rest of the day, Jean pretending to be annoyed and purely wearing the hat as an obligation. Secretly though, he loved how special it was that his mom took the time to recreate his bear hat.

He also relished in having bragging rights the next week when all of his friends got sick from the weather but he remained perfectly healthy.

Thank you for reading! This is a little illustration turned headcanon. It was floating around in my mind with the weather being freezing these past few weeks.

Have a drawing suggestion? Leave an ask!