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delicateflowerss · 7 months

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Dark Paradise

You try to adjust to a new life, married and living in a manor. But you quickly realize that not everything is what it seems, including your mysterious and devilishly handsome husband, Michael Langdon.

Warnings: 18+, DUB-CON, violence, murder, demon!Michael, blood kink, pain kink, breeding kink, dacryphilia

Word Count: 4.2k

You’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to the dark corridors where shadows dance in your periphery, or the damp smell that makes you feel like you’re underground. It smells of rotting fruit, a slow and lingering decay, almost like death surrounds you.

As long as it doesn’t reach you.

You’re also not sure if you’ll ever get used to the man that haunts these grounds. This tall, dark manor that sits in the middle of nowhere.

He’s not dead, he’s just your husband.

His appearances to you are scarce, only really seeing him at mealtimes and occasionally passing him in hallways.

He’s elusive, mysterious to you in ways you cannot comprehend. Ever since you arrived at the manor, all you’ve had are questions.

For an unknown reason, you can’t remember your life before this place. All you know is you were married off to a man named Michael Langdon.

Sometimes, you have the strangest dreams with a house that feels like the complete opposite of here. One filled with love and light and white walls, and not this frigidness that wraps around you now.

The days almost feel like they go on forever, blending together as nothing surprising happens.

Until one night, you’re pulled out of a peaceful slumber by a piercing scream.

It takes you a moment to blink away the sleep, wondering if it was real or part of a dream.

It doesn’t take long before another one echoes throughout the manor. It’s shrill, a seemingly female scream.

You clutch the soft sheets under you, your heartbeat loud in your ears.

You think about whether you should lie back down, ignoring it and going back to sleep. But you don’t think you could even if you wanted to.

Perhaps against your better judgement, you leave your bedroom, with only a candle lighting your path through the dark hallways.

Your white nightgown sways as you step between walls covered in paintings. The dim candlelight casts shadows on the faces, giving them a particularly ghoulish look.

You keep walking, hoping to find some sort of sign of what it is that woke you up. You’re not even sure where the scream exactly came from.

Before you can reach Michael’s room, a chill sweeps past you, extinguishing your candle, leaving you shivering in the dark.

A disembodied voice calls out your name in the form of a question.

“What are you doing out of your room?” he asks.

You instantly recognize the voice, and it stops you in your tracks. You swallow as he steps closer to you. Michael is holding a candle, illuminating the glare on his face.

“I thought I heard something. It woke me up,” you say nervously.

“I didn’t hear anything,” he replies, his brow furrowing.

“It sounded like a scream. I thought someone might have gotten hurt.”

“Are you sure you didn’t just have a nightmare?” he asks in an almost mocking manner, a cruel smirk growing on his lips.

“No-.” You sigh, stopping yourself. “No,” you say again, this time quieter.

“Come on. I’ll tuck you in and look under your bed for monsters,” he says, trying to step past you with a teasing grin on his face.

“I know what I heard, Michael.”

He stops, mere inches from your face and he can see the seriousness that settles in your eyes.

It doesn’t stop his own icy blue eyes from growing colder.

His gaze rakes over you before he leans in closer, warm breath fanning over your lips as he says, “you didn’t hear anything, Y/N. Time to go back to bed.”

You think your own breathing has stopped before he leaves you, going back to his bedroom.

That’s when your goosebumps return, Michael taking all warmth with him.

You’ve sat in the library all day, reading by the window as rain hits the glass. You decided that you’ll read every book in this place since you don’t have much else to do. You’re on 28 out of 11,200. Thunder rumbles above you as you turn the page.

Nothing has happened since you heard the scream, helping you to believe that it was either a dream or your sleep-addled imagination. You tried asking your handmaid if she heard anything that night, but she said no, giving you a strange look like you might be going mad.

You quickly shut up about it.

Michael hasn’t brought it up, which you’re somewhat grateful for because if he did, it would probably be to make fun of you some more.

Even if he has been polite enough about it, it’s been difficult to be around him. He’s always had an intense gaze but something about it has changed. It lingers for too long.

You think that’s always been the case. But now you react differently, a heat growing in your cheeks and a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach.

“Are you hiding from me for a reason?”

You practically jump, startled by the deep voice near your ear.

You close your book and look over your shoulder, finding Michael standing behind you. Amusement lights up his face and his hands are clasped together behind him.

“Do you normally spend your time in here?” he asks, eyes scanning the room, finding books from floor to ceiling and a fire raging, keeping you warm.

“Sometimes.”

You stare at him, still confused as to why he’s bothering you. Shouldn’t he be busy with something?

“So why do you seem to be in here more than you used to be?”

He steps over to the chair you’re sitting in, wood creaking underneath him. He looks over your shoulder, reading the title of your leatherbound book.

You swallow, able to smell the rich scent he wears. It’s musky with a dash of sweetness, like a piece of fruit being harvested from the earth.

“Just reading more, I guess,” you finally answer his question.

“Hm, well I wanted to apologize for the other night.” He pauses, like it’s hard to get the words out. “You were obviously shaken, and I could’ve been nicer.”

Even if his apology could be more genuine, at least it’s an apology.

“I also want to give you something,” he says before placing something on a side table near you.

You pull your brows together as you take in the gift.

“A pomegranate?” you ask, moving your gaze to him, eyebrows raised.

He picks the piece of fruit back up, mischief dancing in his eyes. In one motion, he cracks the rouge skin open, revealing hundreds of little seeds.

He gathers exactly four seeds in the palm of his hand, setting the rest of the fruit back down.

Without saying anything, he brings his hand closer to you, offering it as if you have no choice but to accept.

You hesitate for a moment before reaching to grab them from the palm of his large hand.

But when your skin brushes against his, a gasp falls from your lips, an image flashing in front of you.

It’s Michael, but he looks different…wearing different clothes than he wears now, almost like a school uniform.

The pomegranate seeds fall to the floor before you look up at him.

There’s a question in his eyes that almost matches yours. But it’s just a flicker of confusion before it disappears, turning into irritation.

He clasps his hands together again before leaning down to you and saying lowly, “if you make a mess, you must clean it up. Remember that.”

You keep your eyes away from him, not able to look at him. You can faintly hear him walk away, but your mind is too focused on the words that seem to have another meaning to them. A meaning that makes heat swirl inside you.

The sun is out today, but just barely. It peeks slightly behind gray clouds. You’ll take it over nothing, deciding it called for a stroll in the garden.

Except, as you look around, you realize there isn’t much of a garden. The flowers seem to be withering away, drooping without life and leaves almost crumbling to dust.

It must be the lack of sunshine, you think as you frown.

It’s so hard to find beauty in a place like this, instead only finding death and tragedy.

Without intending to, your mind wanders to a certain someone. You suppose not all beauty is lost.

You still have been avoiding Michael to the best of your abilities, still unsure what happened that day in the library.

You’re also unsure of your growing feelings for him. He is your husband, but it’s also true you two never consummated the marriage.

He never wanted to, and at first, you were grateful. But now, as you think of his golden curls and sharp jawline that could have been crafted by the gods themselves, you wonder if it would help ease the tension between you. Maybe it’s what you need to do in order to have a normal conversation with him.

But nothing about him is normal. He might be beautiful, but you can’t ignore the darkness that lies in his eyes and makes up his entire being.

You stop, finding a faded yellow flower sprouting from the ground. You bend down, pulling it up. Standing up, you stare at it in your hand, and you can’t help but wish it was alive.

You sigh, eyes closing, almost in defeat. But when you open them, you can’t believe what you see.

The flower is now a bright yellow, looking like it belongs in a vase full of fresh-cut daffodils.

It’s like the flower was resuscitated right between your fingers, finally getting the oxygen it so desperately needed.

There is no way you did this, so how is this possible?

Dinner is mostly eaten in silence. Some small talk is exchanged but you can tell Michael can barely bare it, gritting his teeth as you ask him how his day was.

Michael enjoys more intellectually stimulating conversation. It just so happens that usually means arguing with you or teasing you about something. So, you’re not very fond of it.

Once the plates are taken away, you think you can finally breathe, ready to take your leave to your room.

Just as you’re getting up, Michael stops you.

“Sit down. You haven’t had your dessert yet.”

“Dessert? We only have that on special occasions,” you retort, sitting back down.

“Well, you didn’t get to finish it the other day.”

You part your lips to question him again, but it’s answered when a maid places a plate in front of you.

A pomegranate split in half sits before you.

Michael seems to be waiting for your reaction when you lock eyes with him.

“What is with you and pomegranates?”

“They’re in season. I just want you try it.”

He leans back in his chair, giving a smile that doesn’t exactly reach his eyes. Instead, you find a glint there instead.

You nervously look down at the fruit, mulling over what he wants you to do.

You blink and you suddenly see that the red fruit has turned into a human heart, bloody and still beating.

You gasp, eyes widening as you push back your chair.

You look back to Michael, wondering if he sees it too. You’re met with a cold stare, his finger impatiently tapping on the table.

You frown, your eyes going back to the plate only to find the pomegranate.

Tears spring to your eyes as you consider the real fact that you’re losing your mind.

You don’t notice Michael getting up to stand next to you, your broken mind too caught up with all the peculiar things happening in the last couple of weeks.

He gently puts his hand on your shoulder, taking you out of the torment you’re putting yourself through.

By the time you turn to look at him, he has a few pomegranate seeds on his fingertips. You can smell the sweetness as he brings them closer to your lips.

“Don’t think about it. Just eat them,” he says as two of his fingers move past your lips and into your mouth.

You hum lowly in your throat as you taste how delicious they are, lips clasping tighter around Michael’s fingers, your tongue swirling around them.

He breaks the seal, removing his fingers before you swallow. He watches your throat move up and down, taking his offering.

You don’t miss the satisfied smirk on his plump lips.

It’s a night of tossing and turning. You’re able to sleep but it’s restless. Thoughts of Michael still lingering hours after he fed you the pomegranate.

When you’re finally able to sleep for more than an hour, you’re woken up by a scream similar to the one that woke you up weeks ago.

You know you heard it. It’s not in your imagination. No matter what Michael wants you to believe.

You don’t even think about it as you leave your bed, practically storming down the hall, deciding to leave behind a lit candle for light.

You pass Michael’s bedroom, getting closer to the faint sounds of cries and screams.

At the end of the hallway lies a singular door painted blood red.

You’ve never dared to go through it because when you arrived at the manor, you were told it is off limits.

Every time you would look at it, the hairs on your neck would stand up, giving you reason enough to never investigate it.

But now, you know you have to, tired of not knowing the truth.

When you step through the doorway, the air feels heavy, like all the light has been sucked out, only leaving a darkness that sits on your chest, making sure you cannot take a breath.

It’s pitch black, stairs going down to seemingly nowhere or possibly the pits of Hell. So, it’s either idiotic or suicidal why you decide to go down them.

Once you go down the stairs, a sweltering heat is the first thing you feel, like fire blistering your skin. It’s so bright down at the bottom of the stairs that it reflects in the irises of your eyes.

Hundreds of candles are lit with a few fires alongside them. The walls seem to be made of the earth, like a cave.

You don’t exactly understand what is going on, crouched at the bottom of the stairs spotting Michael walking toward a man sitting on the ground.

Cries and screams of “no” fall from the man as Michael brings a small knife to the man’s throat.

He slices it open, like a bleeding smile, his cries ceasing.

A sadistic smirk paints Michael’s lips, a satisfied one that is so similar to the one he had when he fed you the pomegranate seeds.

That’s when you notice everyone else. Bodies littered around the room, both alive and dead. Blood seeping from their various wounds. The ones who are alive seem to be chained to the floor or the walls, like they’re being tortured.

You can’t help the strangled cry that leaves your mouth, your stomach churning, thinking of the horror that the man you’re married to has been enacting.

You catch yourself, slapping a hand over your mouth. But it’s too late. He heard you.

Michael meets your gaze, and it only takes you a split second to get up and run back up the stairs.

You rush through the house, finding the front doors that keep you trapped inside this prison from the rest of the world.

You fling them open, running barefoot past the garden into the trees that border the manor.

Except just when you think you’re getting somewhere, you’re entering another door, one that goes right back inside the manor.

You look around with bewilderment, your mind racing to try and figure out what is going on. But you just end up hitting a brick wall, wanting to collapse into tears while nothing makes sense. You feel like the floor is moving, like your world has been tilted.

“Don’t cry, little witch.”

You turn to find Michael at the top of the main staircase, looking at you with a sort of curiosity and feigned sympathy.

“What?” you ask, voice cracking.

He continues down the stairs, stepping closer to you.

“Stay away from me,” you yell, voice still thick with tears. “I’m getting out of here.”

“You can try as long as you want to get away. But you’ll always end up back here.”

His looming figure is blurry as you blink away the tears.

You let him get closer, his thumb wiping your tear-stained cheeks.

“You poor thing.” You hear him mutter like you’re some naïve little lamb that needs to be protected.

“You’re stuck here,” he explains. “Those seeds you ate bound you here forever. With me, little witch,” he adds with a grumbling chuckle.

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“You don’t remember,” he observes, tilting his head at you, like you’re his science experiment.

He thinks for a moment before continuing, “I suppose it would be better if you remembered. Then we really can have fun.”

Before you can protest or say anything, everything goes black.

Certain details are still fuzzy when you regain consciousness, but you remember it all.

You were a powerful witch in a coven. You remember your sisters and your Supreme, Cordelia.

You also remember him.

Cordelia made a deal. She knew who Michael really was, so she did anything she could to send him away, lock him up within the gates of Hell.

She had to make a sacrifice, and it just so happened to be you.

She came up with a loophole for you. The problem is that you couldn’t remember what it was when you arrived here.

You look around at your surroundings for the first time, finding yourself inside a circle of lit candles.

You try to move outside of the confines of the circle, but it’s like an invisible barrier is up.

You lie back down in defeat.

There is no fighting him or getting out. You ate the seeds of the pomegranate.

If enough time had passed without you eating them, you could’ve gotten away from here like Cordelia wanted.

Now you’ve sealed your fate. You’ve been promised to The Beast.

It’s not long before a door creaks open. The man you’ll be forced to spend eternity with, walks through the door.

“I imagine that was an enlightening nap,” he says, fighting off a mocking grin.

You swallow, keeping your eyes anywhere but on him.

“I was right that it would be better if you remember. I can feel the hatred coming off you. I like that more than indifference.”

He pauses, his eyes raking over your body, like he’s hungry and you’re his next meal.

“Of course, other feelings haven’t changed. You know, it was so hard not to say anything that day in the library when I could smell how wet you were.”

You finally turn to look at him, eyes widening at his casual vulgarity.

“Or any of the other times you were clenching your thighs together. And all because of me,” he adds, eyes full of mirth.

“You’re lying,” you argue, but you can’t deny how warm your cheeks are getting.

“Am I?” he challenges. “It really wouldn’t matter. You’re mine to do as I please with.”

You try to hide the waves of heat you feel, but you can’t successfully hide anything from him.

“What would your Supreme think if she knew how easily you gave into me? If she knew how much of a whore, you are?”

He walks around you in circles like you’re prey that he’s just playing with until he’s ready to feast.

It’s dizzying.

“Maybe I couldn’t stop Cordelia from trapping me here, but I knew I wasn’t going to let you go. Her silly plan with the pomegranates,” he laughs. “I was going to pull you down to the depths of Hell with me. Which is where you’ll be for the rest of eternity.”

You shake your head, wanting him to stop taunting you.

“You’re a monster, Michael,” you harshly say. “I’m sure you feel more at home here.”

He just gives you a humorless laugh, something cruel settling in his eyes.

“Cordelia doesn’t care about you. Her hatred for me outweighed whatever love she had for you. She’s probably forgotten all about you.”

You try to pretend that his words don’t claw at your chest.

“But if I’m going to have my little witch by my side,” he continues. “She can’t be an insolent one.”

You instantly regret hurling any insults at him.

“I think it’s time you learn how things are going to work around here.”

He steps inside the circle, barely giving you time to move out of his way.

“On your knees. Now,” he says, his voice sounding gravelly.

You scramble to kneel at his second command.

“Tell me, little witch. Who’s your God?”

You look up at him, confusion in your eyes.

“What?”

The palm of his hand meets your cheek, moving your head to the side. A slight sting burns your skin.

“Let’s try that again. Who is your God?”

You just shake your head, trying not to let the tears fall from your eyes.

His palm slaps your other cheek, the same biting feeling spreading through your face.

“We can keep doing this until you get it right.”

At least when Michael walked the earth, he had many people to subject his torture too. Now, he just has you. And any other sorry soul that might cross his path, you think. The image of crimson pouring from that man’s neck is still burned into your mind.

“You, Michael. You’re my God,” you defeatedly say.

“And how should you worship your God?”

You catch his gaze, unsure how to answer.

All he does is move his hand to undo his pants, unzipping them until you get what he means.

Your eyelashes flutter as you move your face closer to his cock.

He’s already hard, so you give a small lick to his tip, tasting the salty evidence of his arousal.

He watches you start to put his cock into your mouth and down your throat.

A groan falls from his lips as you begin to fuck him with your throat, spit spilling out of your mouth as you choke on his size.

He puts a hand to the back of your head, helping you to take almost all of him. You can feel your own arousal coating your inner thighs.

“I knew you were good for something,” he says as you gag a little.

He surprises you by pulling you off him, letting you fall onto your ass while your drool hits your chin.

He’s quick to grab you, pinning you to the floor as he puts his weight on top of you.

“I want you to feel me cum inside you.”

He doesn’t waste any time before he rips your white nightgown off you, seeing your naked body for the first time.

His own clothes come off and you hate that even if you know how much of a monster he is, all you can think about is him fucking you.

His hands have your wrists underneath them, pushed into the cold hard floor. You can’t move if you wanted to, but you don’t think you would anyway.

All you do is blink, and his face has changed. His skin is paler with cracks running through it, almost like cement. And his eyes have gone black, no light or emotion to be seen, just darkness, an overwhelming evil you’ve never seen or felt before.

It frightens you. His body is colder as he pushes inside you, a growl coming from deep in his throat.

He doesn’t care to wait for you to adjust, he’s rough in his thrusts, setting a pace that already leaves you gasping for air.

“Michael,” you cry out. “It hurts.”

You know you sound pathetic which is almost worse than how full you feel, your cunt stretching to accommodate the size of him.

“Good,” is all he says.

He licks and bites at your breasts, playing with your nipples between his fingers. It’s both pain and pleasure and it drives you insane. You can feel him deep inside you, the tip of his cock hitting that soft spot nestled in you.

You wrap your legs around him, your walls clenching around him.

He kisses your cheeks, wet with tears from the pain you have felt. He just licks it up, finding your pain to be delicious.

His lips drag against your throat, teeth nipping at the delicate skin.

He whispers, “I can’t wait to see you swollen with my baby. Evidence of how you belong to me.”

You can feel your pussy squeeze him at the thought, the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter.

He captures your lips in a sloppy kiss as he moves his hand down to rub your aching bundle of nerves.

It’s enough for the coil to snap. It’s only moments later when you feel him twitch inside you, coating your walls with his cum. He bites down on your shoulder, and you cry out in pain as he laps up the blood that seeps from the wound, soothing it with his tongue.

He’s breathless as he collapses on top of you, his skin going back to its usual color.

Your mind isn’t clouded with pleasure anymore, but you bring a hand to the curls on his head anyway.

He moves his head slightly to look at you, a smirk forming on his lips.

“If only Cordelia could see you now.”

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon fanfiction

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danikamariewrites · 7 months

Note

Can I request a headcannon where the reader is mated to Cassian, Azriel and nesta. And she's a total cutie somehow she always has some sorts of snacks on her hands like literally all the time ( giant sweet tooth) and they are wondering where she gets them from.

Like Cassian loses his mind because she just one moment doesn't have a cookie in her hand and the next she's eating one.

Also she's a total cat, she disappears in the middle of the day and they can only bring her out when they leave a plate of cookies in the kitchen. ( she can smell it ) she's always sleeping and likes to cuddle whenever one of them is sitting or working.

Mated to Az, Cass, and Nesta headcanon

A/n: I would give anything to be with all three of them tbh like this would be such a slay

Warnings: none just fluffy ☺️

When you felt the bond between all 4 of you, you guys didn’t know what to do at first

You were confused bc you thought the pull you felt to always be around Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel was just your friendship

You’d also be lying if you said you weren’t in love with them

The three of them love you so much

Not much has changed except that you move into the house of wind permanently

You have your own room but you spend most nights with Azriel, he’s your favorite to snuggle with

But there were nights when you wanted to cuddle between Nesta and Cassian

Nesta found she was very possessive and protective of you

And Cassian treats you like a princess

You were a big napper

You can fall asleep anywhere whether it’s on the couch, leaning against Cassian, or even at the table

The boys have found you and Nesta lightly snuggled on the floor of your at home library surrounded by books

One of your favorite nap spots was the couch. Especially when Nesta would read to you and run her fingers through your hair while resting your head on her lap

Something that always drove your three mates crazy were your snack habits

How did you always have one in your hand? How was it always candy? Where did you hide them?

At first you were really good at hiding snacks around the house

A small bag of chips under a throw pillow here

A bag of chocolate covered popcorn in the back of the cabinet

But then the House started helping you by making small compartments in the wall for snacks

If you were in the sitting room but wanted the snack you hid there in the upstairs library the house would bring it to you

“Ok, I know you don’t have those because they weren’t in the snack cabinet. Where did you get the snack?” You just giggle and shrug at Cassian’s question

Nesta would always give you a questioning look and then demand you share

Your dresses and skirts always had pockets not just so you could hold your things but for snacks, the important stuff

Cassian would always beg you for one healthy snack, “Just some fruit that’s all I’m asking.”

“Cass you make sure we eat healthy meals. Occasional junk food won’t kill me baby.” He’d just huff and cross his arms while Azriel laughed and stole a bit of whatever you were munching on

One time it was dead silent in a meeting, except for Rhys bc he was talking about important court stuff

You sneakily pulled a cookie from your pocket, you swiped it from the batch Elain just baked, and took a bite. What you didn’t know was that the cookie would betray you and make a loud crunch sound

Everyone looked at you and Cassian took it from you and gave it back once the meeting was over, “What did we talk about? No disruptive snacks.”

You also value sleeping in

If you didn’t get enough sleep the night before thanks to some ppl 👀…or just from not being able to sleep you liked a few extra hours of peace

Cassian and Azriel, being early risers, never got that about you

You could only be bribed with food

Breakfast is your favorite meal so they use that to their advantage

Always taunting you with the smell of sweet savory bacon, pancakes and maple syrup, eggs, muffins, anything they could cook they would make it for you

You would creep into the kitchen and swipe pieces of bacon before everything was ready

The boys would pretend to be annoyed but secretly love it

Sometimes during the day they could never find you

It was a true mystery where you went or what you did with your time

Nesta would leave your favorite treat out on the counter hoping you’d sense it was there

Azriel would totally have his shadows carry the scent of it to where ever you are

Sometimes they’d miss you and come back to half the plate gone and no you

Other times you’d be perched on the counter chewing happily on your treat

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captain039 · 9 months

Text

Stains of red

Astarion x omega!reader

Warnings: Vampire things, blood, light gore, witch things, fantasy things, swearing, age gap, heats, smut, shameless flirting, virgin reader, indulging in pleasure xD, pining, jealousy, possessiveness

I can’t wait for the game I must write. I’ve watched too many TikTok’s on him🤣 so I may not get his characteristic. But I have an idea on them lol.

No spoilers for the game cause I haven’t played it lol

The raven awoke you as he did all mornings, cawing on your window seal making you huff and almost throw your pillow at him.

“Must you?” You said and he just cawed flying into your house and landing on your bedside table.

“Good morning” you chuckled and Pax cawed in response.

“Any hostile creatures lurking?” You said and he just cawed again fluttering his wings slightly.

“Helpful” you rolled your eyes and stretched. You started your day as you always did, some tea and toasted bread with jam, sitting on the front porch watching Pax fly away back to his family. You saved Pax when he was a baby bird, ugly little thing really with no feathers, but you raised him and now he wakes you every morning and watched the forest for you. Though you didn’t understand him, he understood you well enough. The forest felt cold somehow today though, like something cold was lurking within it and feeding off its emotions, same feeling you got from a certain vampire. Ever since your parents died to a vampire, Astarion has apparently made it his duty to check on you. He wasn’t the one who killed your family, but he was the one to tear the other vampires head off in a craze. You’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he did, nor will you forget the softness he showed younger you. You practically grew up by yourself, self sustaining beyond measures, Astarion didn’t know a thing about children, yet he didn’t let any of the village members come. He brought you food, books, clothes, anything you needed till you got old enough to take care of yourself. Your teenage years were hard, a lonely omega presenting wasn’t ideal for anyone and you felt like the gods truely hated you in those times of your heats. Astarion was neither alpha, beta or omega, you supposed it was due to him being practically dead. He just had a simple cold smell, like snow if snow smelt like anything. Due to him being the only male around you’d ever see your teenage lust was after him, a man however many years old who raised you, sort of. You cursed the gods daily because of this lust, now thought it simmered deeper within your heart and you hated it.

“Why’re you looking so thoughtful?” You heard a hum in front of you and jumped seeing Astarion there.

“Gods sake Astarion!” You glared and he laughed.

“Darling, you should be aware of your surroundings” he huffed with a smirk and you rolled your eyes. Pet names, boy did he love his pet names, darling, sweetheart, dearest, sweet thing, whatever his mind could think of and it drive you insane.

“Why’re you here?” You asked frowning slightly at his scent, a woman’s scent, a beta, gods had he bedded and fed someone before coming here? You glanced to his mouth, no red stains or signs of feeding, he bedded her then. That was somehow worse.

“Can I not see you? I am hurt” he pouted and you sighed standing up and grabbing your plate and cup.

“I have not seen you in months” you didn’t mean to snap, but you did as you walked into your cottage, him following.

“Were you not in heat?” He said casually and you flushed. You were in heat, how the hell did he manage to know your cycle?

“I was” you grumbled going to the sink.

“Not that it affects you” you scoffed, why were you angry?

“Why’re you angry sweetest?” He asked leaning against the counter beside you, tilting his head.

“I’m not angry” you lies washing your cup and plate before drying them.

“You’re also a terrible liar” he huffed. You turned abruptly and huffed at him before a knock came. He snapped his head to the door alerted, eyes narrowing.

“It’s just one of the villagers probably” you rolled your eyes at the vampire and opened the door. A villager indeed, only his fingers were missing.

“Gods what happened?” You asked.

“I was chopping some wood I got distracted by something, I was putting the wood down and left me hand there!” He said and you gulped.

“Right” you said turning around seeing Astarion staring at the man’s fingers.

“Astarion” you said softly and he snapped his head to yours mouth slightly agape. He snarled and went to your room while you took the man to your other room. You were a witch of sorts, you knew few spells, mainly healing ones, hence why the villagers came.

“Sit down” you said and the man sat down. You recognised him as the butchers son, a handsome young alpha, not to sharp though apparently. You made him hold his hand on the table and began chanting softly. You moved your hands around, watching the yellow glow emit from them and swirl around his fingers. Soon enough they were back and normal apart from the blood stains.

“There” you smiled.

“Thank you so much miss” he smiled softly a slight flush to his cheeks.

“Idiot” you heard and turned to glare at Astarion in the door way.

“Excuse him he has no manners” you huffed and cocked your head at the vampire who huffed and left.

“I can’t thank you enough miss” the alpha said still flushed as he shook your hand.

“It’s alright, just don’t do it again” you laughed lightly.

“Course, I was wondering-“ he stopped mid sentence glancing to something behind you and gulped.

“Thank you” he said and disappeared quickly.

“What did you do?” You turned to Astarion who shrugged.

“He’s a perfectly nice man!” You growled and went to clean up the blood.

“He was clearly trying to fuck you” Astarion said with a scoff and you flushed and froze.

“Excuse me?” You said as you scrubbed the blood a little harshly.

“Fuck you darling, bed you, a night of pleasure?” He said like you were stupid.

“I know what it is!” You said voice going higher.

“Have you still not had someone bed you?” He said voice teasing almost though something was strange about his tone. You threw out the rag and briskly walked past him to avoid that conversation. He scared off half the village! and you were in love with him for gods sake!

“Get out my house” you huffed turning and pointing to the door.

“I just got here” he huffed.

“I don’t care” you pointed to the door again.

“So dull” he whined, but left making you sigh in relief.

You watched the firefly’s over the small lake you had in front of your house. Nice clear spring, perfect in any weather it truely was a blessing. Sometimes if it was a warm night you’d go out for a swim with little clothing, enjoy the water under the warm night sky. It was a warm night and you felt like you could use a swim. You finished tea and changed into a robe and grabbed a towel. You laid the towel by the bed of the lake and glanced around before slipping your robe off and stepping in. You walked out a bit before resting on your back and sighing, eyes closing and tuning your ears into the wild life. You could hear critters scurrying around to grab their nightly meal, an owl nearby hooting softly, a few rabbits hoping along the ground and- footsteps? You lowered your body back into the water and glanced around, you couldn’t see anyone even with your heightened senses. You listened closer, two footsteps one heavy and one extremely light, the heavy one sounded like they were running. Then you heard a scream and blocked out the noise by covering your ears quickly before the smell of blood floated on the wind. You quickly left the lake and put on your towel before rushing inside and locking the door. You panted harshly missing the red eyes that watched you through the window.

Next part ->

#astarion x reader #Astarion #vampires #fantasy #x reader #aob #witch reader

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a-magpie-in-gravesfield · 4 months

Text

Just me nerding out about fragrances

I was asked about the scents I picked for the fragrances I use on my letters/the other sents I came up with, so I decided to make a whole document nerding out about my thought process behind each one XD I might come up with a few more in the future, I'll put a "keep reading" so this post doesn't clog your timeline because it's VERY long XD

EMPEROR'S COVEN

Scent description :

This is what I imagine the castle/Philip to smell like - it's the scent I use for the first couple letters I send with Etsy orders. It’s not too overpowering, it’s fairly calming and reminds me a little bit of scents from old historical buildings.

Thoughts behind the scent :

Incense is often used in churches, which I thought would be pretty fitting for the character, especially considering the castle is, well, a coven ahah. The incense scent also has notes of sandalwood, which according to google "Because of sandalwood's purifying properties, it is believed to help clear negative energy from our surroundings. For this reason, spiritual ceremonies often use it to create a sacred space." Considering Belos says he wants to purify the isles from wild magic, this seemed to fit his vibe too (Obviously I don’t agree with this, but I was trying to pick scents that would be fitting the vibes of specific locations, so I tried my best to represent them the way they were intended to be portrayed, if that makes sense !). "Library" scent was because I can see the castle having a lot of these, Philip seems to be the kind to enjoy books a lot. The scent also has undertones of leather, dark musk and teakwood which I thought were scents that could go well with the castle too. For the "sage and cypress" cents, I found on google "Sage is also a symbol of protection, a guardian that stands sentinel against unseen forces that may seek to disrupt one's state of balance.", and that also fits the way Philip portrays his coven, where everything is always in order etc. The cypress tones were mostly because the castle is surrounded by a forest, but cypress also represents "everlasting life" and is also "used in rituals with the dead", also very fitting for the character ! "Golden Santal" had a really fitting name because of the gold part, cedar also represents "protection, wisdom and strength", lavender is told to have calming properties (and Philip often has a calm demeanour), amber and musk also contribute to those castle vibes.

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GRAVESFIELD

Scent description :

This smells a little like after it rained outside, and has a sort of sad/gloomy vibe to it.

Thoughts behind the scent :

"Rainy Morning" is a scent I wanted to use because rain seems to have significance to Philip, but also because rain scents can give a kind of sad/gloomy feeling, which I thought would be pretty fitting for 1600s Gravesfield "Noble pine" is a scent I picked because the town was surrounded by a lot of forest areas, Incense was used for the same reason as it was in the Emperor's coven scent, because church was very present in Gravesfield at the time. Sandalwood is "Said to bring people closer to the divine, inciting calmness and clearing the mind, it is the most commonly used incense for meditation, prayer, and other spiritual practices across multiple religions.", which also felt fitting for the town.

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PEACEFUL MEMORIES

Scent description :

It smells really really sweet, it has a very “cheerful” and floral vibe to it.

Thoughts behind the scent :

This scent isn't something I imagined a specific area to smell like, but was more meant to represent a certain mood, when I made it I was thinking about the good memories Philip and Caleb would have when they used to play as kids. Firewood is a scent I picked because I imagined this is what they used a lot to cook, and the scent also has undertones of sandalwood and incense. Even tho in that case the religious memories aren't the best for him, I thought that since these scents would have been a huge part of their upbringing, it would still bring memories of home. Moonflower is a scent I picked for two reasons, one of them was that during my research, I found "Moonflower is an essence that supports the heart in healing deep wounds of abandonment, rejection or betrayal.", which is probably what both of them felt when they lost their family (parents), but also being outcast by the town, and then how Philip specifically felt like when Caleb left. But the main other thing I found while looking it up was "Since they bloom in the darkness, moonflowers are also symbols of the ability of beauty to emerge in dark times. They can provide hope for people who are going through tough times and encourage them to seek positivity.", and I thought this was extremely fitting regarding the two brothers trying to make the best of their lives in a dark town like Gravesfield. Red roses can have many meanings, but in that specific context, I was thinking of "On a spiritual level, red roses symbolise passion and sacrifice.", so I was thinking about Caleb sacrificing his own childhood to raise his little brother. Red roses are known to represent love, but in that context I was definitely thinking of it in a familial sense. "Noble Pine" was meant to reference their time playing together in the woods.

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LORD BELOS

Scent description :

It has a strong smell of spices, like if you walked in an old caravan and a lot of spices had been left to dry there.

Thoughts behind the scent :

This scent was specifically thought of in the context of the caravan I designed for Philip's preacher era, aka what I imagined the inside smelling like. "Mountain Mist" was definitely a reference to the outdoors, him travelling through mountains and snow from town to town. Sage and cypress are there for the same reason as they are in the Emperor's Coven scent, I was thinking of Philip seeing his quest as "bringing order", plus this is a very woodsy scent, and the caravan is mostly made out of wood. For Smoked Oud, I read "Eastern culture often uses Oud during moments of prayer with the aim of getting close to God. The extremely intense smell is linked to the sacred, in fact oud is called “the wood of the Gods” in the Old Testament." I imagined Philip burning a lot of incense-like scents in the caravan as if to remind himself why he was pursuing his "holy quest" as he would see it, the general "Lord Belos" fragrance has a very "spicy" smell which I found fitting for that. "Frosted Juniper" is mostly there because I wanted the woodsy sent to be really present and also have a "winter-y" feel because of the snow we see in the preacher era memory flashback.

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PREACHER

Scent description :

It’s definitely not a sweet scent, it’s very citrus-y with a lot of forest type scents (think if you get really close to a pine tree for example)

Thoughts behind the scent :

This one is more of a "vibe" scent than a location scent, I was trying to think of the mood from his preacher era. "Firewood" definitely had to be in there because of the burning cities, "woodland snow" was there for the snowy landscapes. "White Birch" also has Eucalyptus notes which is often associated with winter, and Pine and Cypress both have the same sylbols as mentioned in previous paragraphs, but Philip seemed to travel through a lot of forest-like areas, so wanted the woodsy scent to be very present too. Sandalwood as mentioned above was used a lot in religious ceremonies and incense, it also has undertones of "amber" and "dark musk", and I wanted to make sure this scent didn't really smell "sweet" in any way.

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BEAST

Scent description :

It smells like mossy wet dirt, it doesn’t have any “perfume” type scent to it. It’ll really smell like it just rained and you opened the window very wide.

Thoughts behind the scent :

I know there are a lot of different interpretations of what Philip's beast form would smell like, some think it would be more like rotting flesh and some think it would be more like moss-type scents.

Personally I went with the moss interpretation (I felt like if the smell was as bad as rotting flesh we would have seen characters like Luz react to that when standing close to him, but there was no indication of that), and his curse spreading also seemed very plant/mushroom like. I also didn't want to create a scent that was fully repulsive because no one would want to smell it ahah

But in any case, with that explanation out of the way, the "cut grass" and "rainy morning" scents are there for that exact reason. Cedarwood is there because cedar, at least to me, has a very "dusty" kind of smell - I wanted to have some kind of woodsy scent that wouldn't be too floral in the mix, and Leather is there because I have some leather fragrances of my own, and I wanted something a little stronger that would balance out the other "peaceful" scents like cut grass. (Plus, the leather scent also has undertones of incense, so that was a bonus too ahah)

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The scents after this one are more of "vibe scents" I created that aren't reflective of a specific moment from the show, so you can see those are more of my own things. (I picked the scents for every category, I meant more in the sense that these are my own original scenes/vibes ideas).

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HOME

Scent description :

It has a VERY overpowering smoky scent. Think if you just walked in the old Wittebane house but the window had been left opened and there had been fire outside. If you get it in candle form it won’t come off as strong as in pure fragrance form, but definitely think old medieval type outdoor house instead of modern time house.

Thoughts behind the scent :

I wanted to have a scent vibe for what I could "home" smelling like for Philip. Library definitely had to be in there because Philip most likely enjoyed books and writing a lot, "Lush Linen" was because of the other fancy clothes he owns, like waistcoat etc, and I find the smell of linen very clean, enjoyable and calming. (Tho the more peaceful scents are first definitely overpowered by the smoky scent, you can only pick up on those when the scent settles a bit, if that makes sense). It also has undertones of white tea in the scent description, and I can definitely see him as a tea person. Lavender embers is a little different from the lavender scent I used in "Peace" later, but lavender is also calming, and "smoke" is a smell I thought would be fairly present in Gravesfield (mostly referring of people cooking over firewood outside). "Redwoods" is a very woodsy scent, and the outdoors would probably be a very home-y feel as well (more in the sense that it would seem familiar to someone from that time period rather than what a current home would smell like).

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FREE

Scent description :

It has a very floral and outdoors type scent, but it doesn’t smell as overpoweringly sweet the way “peaceful memories” does, it gives me way calmer vibes.

Thoughts behind the scent :

I was thinking of this as more of an AU type scent of, what if things had never gone bad, the moonflower scent is there for the same reason as it is in "Peaceful Memories" ("Moonflower is an essence that supports the heart in healing deep wounds of abandonment, rejection or betrayal.", which is probably what both of them felt when they lost their family (parents), but also being outcast by the town, and then how Philip specifically felt like when Caleb left. But the main other thing I found while looking it up was "Since they bloom in the darkness, moonflowers are also symbols of the ability of beauty to emerge in dark times. They can provide hope for people who are going through tough times and encourage them to seek positivity.") Incense usually has a church feel to it, but a lot of people also use it for things like meditation, and I find the smell very calming personally. Library definitely had to come back once again ahah

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PEACE

Scent description :

It’s a very soft and calming scent. When I smell it I really think “peace” ahah. You can definitely smell the lavender, it also has a very clean and fresh type smell.

Thoughts behind the scent :

That one was more of a vibe scent as well. I'm guessing that back in Gravesfield, Philip had some moments to indulge in his hobbies such as writing, drawing, creating things in general. I was picked a lavender based scent because lavender has calming properties, tho the lavender scent doesn't feel too present to me. Library is there because I definitely picture him as a bookworm. The scent is super calming as a whole and something I love having around when I draw, probably one of my favorites actually ! Cedar and wood are also some undertone scents I could see him have in his old house.

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WITTEBANE

Scent description :

It has a very soft scent, very outdoors-like. You can smell some floral smells, it has a very mossy undertone.

Thoughts behind the scent :

I know Violet can seem like a strange choice of scent, but I didn't want to re use too much of the other previous scents, and in my research I found a lot of little facts : Violets have a symbol of "faith and spiritual passion", there are also superstitions that "Carrying violets keep malevolent spirits at bay". Another interesting thing I found was "The ancient Romans gave the violet flower a sombre interpretation. They perceived the deep colour of the flower as an image of spilt blood while its soothing scent lent a peaceful aura to proceedings.".The color of (blue) violets also feels very similar to the Wittebane coat (my interpretation of that is that it belonged to their father, was then passed down to Caleb and then Philip). Saffron was also a scent undertone of the "Violet" fragrance, and saffron has a lot of spiritual meanings such as "being closer to the divine". Another meaning of saffron is "courage and sacrifice", which Caleb would have definitely went through for his brother. But even tho we know Philip didn't make the right choices, he probably saw himself as doing those exact same things for Caleb when he went after him to "save" him (since well, going to the demon realm was probably the same as going to actual Hell to someone from his era). Saffron is also a very expensive spice, and I felt like it was fitting to the vibe the Wittebane statue gives off (considering the clothes they are represented with, even tho we know they had a very difficult upbringing). Leather is another scent that I liked being used as an undertone, because it balances out the floral sweetness a little. "Redwoods" is there mostly because growing up surrounded by the forest is a big part of the characters, so I wanted a woodsy smell to be very present. Cedar, Moss and Embers also balance out the rest of the scents.

#philip wittebane #emperor belos #belos #candles #fragrances #scents

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blooming-violets · 2 months

Note

Hii! Can I request a Joel miller x fem!reader where Abby goes to golf town on reader instead of Joel and Joel is in Ellie’s position watching her get killed. Just utter angst💔🥲thank youuu❤️

An Eye For An Eye || Joel Miller x fem!Reader

A/N: I meant to do this from Joel's pov but somehow ended up in Reader's pov. Enjoy some death! (Also threw in a little Glenn from the Walking Dead winkwinknodnod in there, too)

Fire rained down on the infected as the people surrounding them tossed molotovs over the wrought iron gate.

The heat of the flames bathed over their skin to push the wintery chill from their bones.

Joel could feel your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, clinging protectively onto him, as he slowed their horse next to Tommy’s. When your grip didn’t loosen to climb down, he gave your hand a gentle pat of encouragement.

“I don’t like this,” you whispered in his ear. There were too many people. More than you were anticipating. Large groups of strangers were never a good sign.

His head tilted back towards you, his eyes closing peacefully at the feeling of your cold breath against his cheek, “You worry too much. We saved that woman’s life. It’s fine. We need a place to ride out the storm. Just behave yourself.”

You replied with a quiet laugh. Joel Miller was the king of worrying too much and the master of bad behavior. Who was he to tell you otherwise?

“You’ve gone soft, grandpa. I blame Ellie,” A kiss was placed to his gray peppered beard before you jumped off the horse. There wasn’t even that big of an age gap between you two but you were still fond of the nickname, simply because it made Joel groan every time he heard it.

Joel smiled, following you off the horse, “I blame you both. I only have this gray hair because of the shit you two put me through.”

The moment the garage doors closed to block off the incoming swell of snow flurries, a weight of dread settled in your stomach. You ran a mittened hand over the hind haunches of your horse to wipe away some of the snow in an attempt to help soothe your unease.

“Hey, I heard you guys saved Abby?” A short haired woman approached you with a warm, but hesitant, smile. “Thanks for bringing her back to us.”

You looked over and did your best to flash her a smile of your own. Trust had to be built somehow. You might as well try to start here.

“Oh, yeah. No problem.” You tugged off your mittens, stuffing them in your jacket pocket, and reached out your hand to shake.

“I’m Mel,” she spoke softly. “Nice to meet you.

You returned the greeting. She seemed nice enough. For now. First impressions meant nothing in this world. Everyone could act kind until they weren’t. You’d been fooled one too many times to take that sort of chance again. The moment she let go of the hand shake, she turned to Tommy to repeat her introductions. Your guard was on high alert, trying to take stock of anything you could use as makeshift weapons and plot the best hiding spots.

Joel slipped his arm around your waist. He could sense your worry and pressed his lips against the side of your head, smelling your hair, as he spoke.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled into your hair. “Tommy and I got this covered. We’ll hang out for the night. We can take turns staying awake so someone’s always on watch. Then we’ll be gone in the morning after the storm.”

“That sounds like some famous last words,” you grumbled.

The three of you were led into the room off of the garage. A large wooden bar sat against the wall and you took note of the half filled bottles of alcohol cluttering the surface.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad afterall,” you nodded to the drinks, giving Joel a cheeky wink.

He hid a smile by scratching at his beard and turning to the new people, “What are y’all doing out this way?”

A man with a baseball cap answered, “Oh, just passing through. You three live nearby?”

Tommy took that as an invitation to invite them back home to restock their gear. As if you wanted these people anywhere near your family.

It was clear neither party really trusted the other. There was a tension in the air as each individual tried to make sense of the other. Both parties were searching for hidden dangers. Your eyes sought out everyone, studying them, trying to find their strengths and weaknesses. It was Abby quietly conversing with another man in the corner that caused your heart rate to spike. You didn’t like the way they were whispering. From behind, you could tell her body language was tight, nervous. Your stare stayed trained on the pair as they whispered back and forth. Even as they stood quietly in the shadows, trying to appear relaxed, you could tell she was mulling over something in her head.

Your hand found Joel’s and you gave it a small squeeze. You leaned in closer, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Maybe we’re better off risking it in the snow? We can find some place to stay that’s not here.”

Before he could reply, Tommy was throwing around more introductions.

“I’m Tommy,” he announced to the group. He was too calm for your liking. Too friendly. Something was wrong. This wasn’t right. They had to leave. “This is my brother…Joel. And this is his partner-”

You couldn’t hear his introduction of you. You were too busy watching the change in Abby. The entire room fell silent. Her shoulders tensed. Her jaw tightened, flexing subtly as she ground her teeth together. Her back straightened up to attention and she shifted the shotgun in her hands.

You knew it the second Joel did.

This was bad.

“Y’all act like you’ve heard of us or somethin’,” he muttered, trying in a last ditch effort to soothe out the peace. His arm instinctively pushed you protectively behind him just as gun shot rang out.

“That’s because we have,” Abby said as the trigger was pulled.

You let out a scream of terror, watching Joel yell in pain, his leg shooting out from under him, and tumbling to the ground.

“Joel!” You collapsed down to his side, throwing your body protectively over his head to block him from any more bullets.

“No!” Tommy shouted.

Two men were on him before he could even move. They pinned his arms down, throwing him back against the bar, and struggled to hold him steady while he thrashed wildly against them. You couldn’t help him. You refused to leave Joel. All you could do was watch in horror as Tommy was bashed repeatedly in the top of the head with the grip of a pistol until he went limp. You had no idea if he was dead or knocked out. Thick lines of blood trailed out from under his hairline and waterfalled down his vacant face.

You reached for the knife hidden in your back pocket. The second someone grabbed your arms, you slashed out, making contact with someone’s cheek.

But there were too many of them and so little of you.

The knife was wrestled out of your grasp. You were being dragged away from Joel with two men clamping down tightly to your arms and throwing you up against a window. The back of your head bounded against the glass pane causing a shooting pain to ricochet through your brain.

“No!” You could hear Joel cry, his voice deep with worry. “Get off her! Don’t fucking touch her!”

He struggled to get up but his leg was useless under him. Blood spurted from his thigh and soaked into his tattered jeans. He tried to take down the person closest to him but all it took was a bullet whizzing by your left ear, instantly deafening that ear, and shattering through the window behind your head for him to stop.

The howling wind burst through the broken, jagged hole to swirl snow around the room. The cold caught in your lungs, mixing with your panic, to make it difficult to breathe. You gasped for air, eyes watering, as you stared helplessly back at Joel. The look of anguish you found staring back at you was enough to break your heart. He knew you had been right. He knew he should have listened. They couldn’t trust these people. He knew.

But it was too late.

It took two men to pin his arms up against the back wall as if they were about to crucify him. His ragged, angry breaths filled the room to meld together with the howling wind.

“Don’t hurt her,” he panted out with a hiss of pain. “Don’t hurt her. Me. Hurt me. Not her.”

It was hard to hear him. You reached your hand up to cup over your left ear where the bullet had shot past. You could feel the stickiness of blood leaking from your burst eardrum. Subtly, you tilted your right ear towards him so you could better understand what they were saying.

Abby had leaned down in front of him. She was breathing nearly as heavily as he was. Fury etched into her every crease and a burning hatred scalded Joel in her sights.

“Joel Miller,” she whispered. Not asking. Not confirming. A statement.

“Who are you?” He shot back.

“Guess.”

Your eyes slipped close with dread. You knew Joel had no idea who this woman was. Joel’s past was filled with all colors of evil. She could have been anyone. It didn’t matter who she was or what Joel had done to her. Everything he’s ever done to survive, every horror, every act of ruthless murder would be flashing before his eyes right this very moment. He could pick any one out at random and it would be enough for someone to want revenge. He didn’t care who she was. She had her reasons and she was probably right for wanting his life. His past was bound to catch up to him eventually. He was just sad you had to be here to bear witness to his end.

The resignation you saw settle slowly onto his face was enough to push the tears stifled in your eyes down your cheeks.

“Why don’t you say whatever speech you got rehearsed and get this over with,” he spat out at her with a scowl. “I’m the one you want. Neither of them ever did anything to you. They’re innocent and deserve to live. Kill me and be done with it.”

“No!” You cried, begging them for his life. “No! Please. Please. I need him. Please. Don’t do this.”

Joel turned to your cries and gave you a half hearted smile. If they killed him, the one they were clearly looking for, then there was a chance that you could go free. If there was a chance to save you, he would take it. Always.

Abby took notice of the look on his face when he stared back at you. She turned between the two of you and a dark smile grew across her face. She stood up, walking from Joel over to you.

The move was all it took for Joel’s panic to immediately kick in, “Wait, stop! Leave her out of this! I’m the one you want!”

Abby grabbed a fistful of your hair and jerked your head back to expose your neck. She leered back at Joel, “Do you love her?”

He tried to lunge forward to reach them but was held back by the men. The blood loss from his leg was making him weak. You could see the color paling from his face. His eyes were turning bloodshot.

“Leave her alone!” He shouted, his voice coming out like a pained roar. “She didn’t do anything to you!”

Abby tossed your head back and walked over to the bag of golf clubs at your side. You watched her browse through each one before pulling out the one she wanted. She held it up to the light from the broken window to admire the view.

“I said,” she whispered, the sound deadly. “Do you love her?”

A scream of rage ripped out from Joel’s throat, “Yes! Fuckin’ dammit, yes! I love her!”

A look of sorrow flashed across Abby’s face like she wasn’t entirely sure this was the plan she originally wanted to go through with. She down at you with regret, “Then I’m sorry to do this. It’s not your fault. But revenge is revenge. An eye for eye, if you will.”

You swallowed, eyes widening as you stared at the end of the golf club, realizing exactly what was about to happen but being useless to stop it.

You were not going to leave this cabin alive.

“Joel Miller killed someone I loved,” she sighed. “I am going to kill someone he loves.”

“No!” Joel screamed. From behind Abby, you could see him thrashing violently against the men. He caught one of their hands in his mouth and bit down as hard as he could, mauling his head to the side with a jerk, as the sound of snapping bones echoed through the freezing air. The man shouted in pain as his finger was nearly ripped straight from his hand thanks to the death grip Joel had with his teeth.

Another gun shot rang out to silence everyone. This time it flew over Joel’s head and the bullet lodged into the back wall.

“Enough!” Abby shouted. “Hold him down, dammit.”

“Then hurry up and get this over with!” The man standing at your shoulder yelled back. “Before he bites off more of Jordan’s fucking fingers.”

The sound of your cracking skull was all you could hear as the club came straight down to make perfect contact with the top of your head. You hadn’t even seen her lift it over her to strike. You had been too busy trying to keep Joel in your sights.

You slumped forward, falling onto your knees and holding yourself up with your arms.

“Joel,” You mumbled through the delirium setting in. Your brain was rattled. Hot blood washed away your blurring vision until all you could see was red. “Joel…stay…me…with me…stay…”

Wack.

Crunch.

Wack.

Splash.

Your breath strained in heaving, gasping wails as your brain function rapidly declined. Blood showered down around you, seemingly falling from the sky like rain drops on a dreary evening. It reminded you of the way rain clings to the leaves to roll down their waxy surface and drip in warm drops down onto your forehead. A pleasant, familiar feeling. If you looked skywards, you wouldn’t see a ceiling, but a forest canopy of wet, green leaves.

Your arms shook under your weight to hold you up and pushed you back into a kneeling position. Your body swayed on unsteady legs, unable to focus on any one particular part of the room. The socket of your eye had been shattered. Your eye bulged in your head and hung loosely out of your skull.

You remembered the first time you found Joel. Over a decade ago. Smuggling supplies back and forth into the Boston quarantine zone. He had hated you. Thought you were annoying and never shut up. You’d pester him with a million questions, desperate to learn all his survival techniques. Somehow he never managed to shake you from his gasp. At some point along the way, you had weaseled your way into his hardened exterior and made a home inside his heart. He could complain all he wanted. He enjoyed your company.

Crack.

Your body gave out. You slumped onto your side.

From this position you could make out the hazy vision of Joel through your one working eye. There were tears streaming down his face. You’d never really seen him cry before. Not like this. His mouth hung open in a scream but you could no longer hear what was being said. You didn’t need to hear to know he was wailing out in agony for you. This was the kind of torture being inflicted on him that was meant to destroy his soul. This was worse than his own death. This was going to break him.

Oh, Joel.

He was on his stomach, arm outstretched, desperately trying to reach you.

You remembered the late nights of sitting around a campfire, with a cup of stale, weak coffee shared between you two, out in the woods. Joel always hated campfires at night. They were dangerous, easy to be seen, but you had convinced him to give it a try just this once. Just long enough to heat up your coffee. The coffee had tasted watery and bitter but his lips tasted sweet and soft. The risk of the fire was worth watching the way the warm orange glow danced across his skin.

Your fingers twitched out to reach for him.

If only you could touch him.

One last time.

You stretched your arm as far as you could.

Crack.

You were reaching blindly. Both your eyes are gone now. No sounds. No sights. No pain. Only Joel.

In the darkness, you reached for him.

His calloused tipped fingers brushed across your bloody hand. He was only close enough for your fingertips to reach but they laced together the best you were able.

A smile flashed onto your dying lips.

Crack.

You didn’t need to see him to know him.

His face exploded behind your blinded vision to greet you in the dark. Always sweaty and covered in dirt. Salt and peppered hair. Eyebrows tugged low in a permanent frown. The slope of his strong nose. Pouted lips peeking out from under his unkempt beard. The frown lines etched into his forehead that would soften whenever he caught sight of you. The warmth of his arms wrapped tightly around your body to keep you safe from the chilly nights.

His quiet whispers of “I love you” spoke into your ear when he thought you were sleeping.

He hardly ever said those words out loud to you when you were awake but he never had to. You could see his love through his every action.

Even now.

His last act of love he could ever give you was to fight against his restraints and reach far enough for his fingers to graze yours. So you knew you weren’t alone. So he could keep as safe as he was physically able to.

So he could touch you one last time.

I love you, Joel Miller.

Crack.

This was fun a little side step away from my usual beloved Andrew Garfield muse. I don't think I'll write for Joel much in the future. Not because I don't adore him but because I just write for a different fandom and struggle to do both at the same time. But I enjoyed a little peek into some Joel angst for my Sunday afternoon.

#the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller one shot #the last of us spoilers #the last of us fic #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfic #tlou #joel tlou

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faeries-child · 3 months

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No place for love

(I got inspiration from Thomas Shelby's line: "Everyone's a whore, Grace. We just sell different parts of ourselves")

Pairing: Azriel x reader / (y/n) / oc

Warnings: Mentions of sex, drugs and prostitution.

Enjoy :) (I'll maybe make part two)

Azriel didn’t really prefer places like this. Not at all. Even if he, Rhys and Cassian had been really stupid and young once, the male was not going to indulge himself in those activities anymore. Azriel remembered the time when he and his brothers used to have females at the same time, in the same room. Azriel however had grown fully past that phase centuries ago. But the spymaster would play this role, if not for Velaris’ sake then for his high lord and lady.

Before him now rose the dark and luminous red light district of the court of nightmares. The path that now opened right before him was crowded and the most unwelcoming. For when it came to the court of nightmares the so called road of lust offered far more than just satisfaction for bodily urges. Azriel could see vendors selling illegal substances, suspicious looking jars filled with dead things and he could as well see things sold, alive. Spymaster also noticed females and males alike leaning in the doors of buildings in very little clothing to cover themselves with, trying to lure people into entering. The Whole place had a sinister feeling but Azriel didn’t have any other choice than to wander deeper into the streets.

Rhysand had sent him to gather information about a mole that had been delivering crucial information to their enemies, Beron included. Spymaster had heard from an important source that his suspect visited the den of sin often. Especially a particular brothel. He had also heard that the brothel in question was one of the more expensive ones, they would provide their clients with anything that they asked for, almost anything.

It was not hard to spot the brothel in question. Building was bigger and grander than the others surrounding it. However no females were outside luring men in.

Building was made of stone, painted black and there were curtains in the windows, so the only thing that one could see was candles that shone through the light fabric.

Spymaster blended into the shadows and approached the brother. Front doors were open, so one could see what really was happening inside. There was carving over the door in the wooden frame. It read: “There is no place for love here”. In Azriel’s mind that was a weird thing to be carved in the doors of a pleasure house, but that wasn’t important now. He set a foot into the building and was met with the smell of scented candles, wine and to no surprise, sex. Music could be heard, someone playing instruments, sensual tune that matched with the atmosphere of the place. There were mostly men, drinking and indulging in activities that Azriel did not stay to watch for any longer than necessary. What he did point out was that the place certainly seemed to be on a more expensive side than the brothels he had visited in the Illyrian mountains.

“What is it that you're looking for, lord of shadows?”´

Hearing the voice Azriel turned around, as calmly as he could. Given the amount of people in the room and the acts that were currently being committed, his shadows had a hard time sorting out what each of them were doing. So the speaker had succeeded in surprising him.

“I’m am sure whatever you are looking for, we will be able to provide”

Speaker was a woman, not an high fae. Her ears were longer and eyes bigger. She was also dressed in very little clothing, so Azriel focused mainly on her face when he spoke: “I’m not here for your services, but I am looking for someone with important information. I am here in high lord’s name.” Female let out a short laugh, smiling in a way that Azriel could only describe as sinister.

“In high lord’s name you say?” Female circled around letting her gaze wander around the spymaster's body. “You seem rather… uptight, but I would gladly help you to relax.” She was now reaching to touch Azriel’s wings but the male took a step back immediately after sensing the woman's intentions. “But since you’re not here to pay for them I will sadly pass the opportunity”. Woman turned to leave but Azriel opened his mouth before she had a chance to: “I will pay you a nice sum for the information I’m looking for.”

“Now that's what I like to hear. Follow me, our mistress will surely be interested in your offer.”

Female gave him no choice but to follow her up the grand staircase that was leading them to a corridor that had many doors on both sides and with his precise hearing Azriel could hear exactly what was happening behind those closed doors.

The woman led him to the end of the corridor, where there were big twin doors, decorated with gold accents. Without knocking, the female opened the door and let Azriel in while following behind him.

Room was covered in different kinds of fabrics, pillows and areas designed for lying around. Room was mostly red colored, with some gold and black accents. Air here smelled like vanilla candles and surprisingly, some kind of musk.

Almost immediately after stepping into the room, Azriel’s focus was drawn to another female in the room. She was sitting on the ledge of the window smoking something like a cigar, but by the smell Azriel could definitely swear that the substance was way stronger and most likely, illegal. Smell of it traveled to his nose and lungs.

High fae female, well she was… The only word Azriel could think was gorgeous. Her hair was left down, curling down all the way to her back. Color of it was white, whitest that Spymaster had seen in his 500 hundred years on this world. The male also pointed out that the female was wearing practically nothing. Only a long translucent black gown that widened towards hem on her ankles. One could see everything, her wide hips and almost spotless skin. She didn’t bother looking at them. Only opening her mouth to say: “I thought I told you that I’m not taking anymore customers for today Daphne”

Azriel’s shadows seemed to delighted to hear her voice, slivering out of their hiding place to caress the shadowsingers hands and neck.

“But I have brought someone special for you my lady” said the female whose name allegedly was Daphne.

When the woman turned, Azriel was left gasping for air. Her eyes were the color of ice, same as the gaze that she gave him. However something seemed to spark in her as her mouth curved into a wicked smile. “Oh well, I might be able to make an exception under this special occasion.” Woman walked closer to him and Azriel for the first time in centuries felt like compromising his morals.

“So tell me lord of shadows, what do you desire? I am sure whatever your heart wants, I will be able to provide”.

Female stopped just a few feet from him. Looking him up and down like he was a prey and somehow Azriel felt like it too.

“I do not seek what you are offering, I am here only for the information-” but Daphne interrupted him “He says that he’s here in the name of the high lord”. Azriel could sense almost a hint of mockery in her tone but let it slide since he was not looking for trouble right now.

“Leave us Daphne, tell the girls not to bother me for the rest of the evening”

Daphne only nodded and left the two in the room alone.

“Sit”

And to his surprise, without questions Azriel sat on the cushions that made up some kind of strange sofa. Female got closer and was now standing before him, only a few feet between them. The spymaster could smell her. Vanilla and a hint of tar. Azriel could also smell whatever the female had been smoking.

“So if you truly aren’t here for my services, why are you looking at me like you would give up your title and all that comes with it to be with me?”

Azriel tried collecting himself and threw on a mask of calmness. “I am here to collect information about a traitor and hopefully catch him. My sources tell me that he visits this particular establishment often. The High lord-” Azriel could not finish his sentence because the female moved closer to him, too close. Before the spymaster could do anything, the female moved to his lap straddling his legs. She placed her hands on Azriel’s shoulders. “The high lord of the night court. So much does he oversee and control, but unfortunately you have come to the one of the few places that even his gaze doesn’t fall nor does his words reach.” Female continued to smile at him as she leaned close to his ear: “What power does the lord of shadows hold in a place like this, where everything is of shadows, how are you special?”

The spymaster could almost feel the female's lips on his throat. He didn’t even notice that control over his shadows was now slipping, they were traveling around her exposed thighs.

Gathering the last drops of his control he pushed the woman gently farther away from him, so he could see her face. “The night court will pay you nicely for your information” he said, trying to keep his voice steady and not to just take the female's offer to make an exception for him.

The woman rose from Azriel’s lap and said: “You’re no fun. But at least now you're talking my language. But what makes you think I have what you need?”

“They said that he prefers your… company. Almost exclusively.” He answered. “So can you help me?” Azriel didn’t know why he felt like… the female already knew what he was asking. It could be her face that now showed a certain kind of bitterness, maybe some sadness as well.

The female now walked towards the writing desk on the other side of the room and leaned on it. “I might know who you are talking about. So what now, do you want me to catch him or… Oh” her face twisted in a knowing smile. “You need proof that he is the male you’re searching for-” Azriel interrupted him: “I have heard of your reputation. You get people to reveal their secrets”

“Men talk when they are happy, easy as that” She now eyed Azriel like he would be her next meal, and Azriel truly thought that maybe he wouldn’t even be opposed to that. “I will pay you-” again she interrupted him: “I don’t want money”.

His mouth tightened into a line: “Then what do you want?”

“I want you to owe me a favor, you cannot ask what kind or when I will ask for it”

It wasn’t good deal on Azriel’s part, but he really didn’t feel like he wanted to torture anyone right now, he was tired. “Deal.”

Azriel rose and walked to the female offering his hand, which the female took without hesitation. Azriel could notice a tattoo forming on the female's fingers. The spymaster couldn’t really read the female's face, nor did his shadows provide him with any assistance. They almost seemed a little unsure of how to act around her.

Azriel turned to leave, but his interest in the female got the best of him. “So that’s it. I know your profession, but you are willing to do this just like that?" The female's smile fell and her eyes hardened as she said: “We are all whores shadowsinger, we just sell different parts of ourselves.”

That was that, Azriel turned and left. But somehow he could tell that this definitely wasn’t the last time he would visit her.

Shadowsinger cursed himself, by the time he had already reached Velaris he realized that he didn’t even ask her name.

#acotar #court of thorns and roses #azriel #rhysand #cassian #azriel x reader #fantasy #azris fanfiction #love #smut

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onelatenight-longago · 7 months

Text

Stepping Into the (Spot) Light

Warnings/Tags: Fem!Reader, Depictions of Violence and Torture, semi-soft Buggy, he's a danger but also a marshmallow of a man, life on the Big Top, becoming one of the crew, sexual tension and teasing, romance, finding freedom and found family

Description: Buggy plays the hero just the one time and now he's a got a new crew member who will change everything for him.

A/N: I'm going to double post this story, first in 1st person then again in 2nd person.

Chp. [1] [2] - First Person Chp. [1] [2] - Second Person (below)

You awoke on a soft bed, its satin red sheets wrapped gently around you. The room was dark, lit only by a small candle on the bedside table but it did not matter. You were too exhausted, too worn down and weary to focus on much more. Your body ached and your mind was clouded. All you could do was take in the warmth of the bed around you, and the smell of smoke, paint, and the faint scent of sweet apples.

You had never known comfort like this and settled yourself deeper into the soft bed.

Too soon you were interrupted by a burly looking man busting through the door. “Wear this and come to the ring, you’ve got five minutes.” He spoke gruffly, throwing clothes down on the bed then turning and quickly stomping out, barely even looking in your direction.

Your heart slammed its way into your throat, the events prior now fully flooding back into your mind. Your escape from Wasp, the curious red smoke that crawled its way through town, the man who called out to you as you faded into unconsciousness. You had no clue where you were but the bonds Wasp had on you were gone and your cuts and scraps were carefully dressed and you were laid down comfortably in a bed so divine you were sure you were dead and in the afterlife. You should have been scared, surely waking up in a strange place. But instead you felt excited, the anticipation of what laid beyond this room drove you to your feet. The clothes thrown onto the bed were as equally beautiful as the bed you had found yourself in. It was a shimmering dress, tattered in all the right spots as to look nearly intentional. Fishnet tights, that the sight of made a blush crawl across your face. A red and white striped bandana and black boots, rough and well worn.

You dressed quick enough and with a deep breath you opened the door, unsure of what lay ahead but certain that it was far better than being Wasp’s captive.

As you wandered down the long walkway, clearly makeshift and surrounded by tattered canvas, it became clearer and clearer that you were in some circus tent. The myriad of people you had passed, barely sparing you a glance, were all dressed in either wild show costumes or jester-like outfits ranging from simple to intricate. The shouting of orders and questions and answers all around you had begun to become overwhelming so you picked up your pace, following the winding walkway, hardly paying mind to the branching rooms.

When you finally came to the end, faced with a canvas entryway, someone had finally stepped out and spoke to you.

“You can wait in here.” A man stepped up, his green hair and absurdly large checkered scarf catching you off guard. “Come, there is tea laid out.” He stepped past you separating the canvas curtains and holding them open for you, gesturing for you to step through into the small room. “Please, sit and relax. I will be back soon to show you to your seat.” Without so little more an explanation he walked out the way you had come and you were left to take in your surroundings.

The room seemed small if only because it was stacked with so much equipment there was barely room for the plush couch and table sat off to the one side. As you made yourself comfortable and began to fix yourself a cup of tea you looked around, taking in the sight of unicycles, juggling pins, ropes and rigs of all sorts, silks and fabrics, whips and canes, torches, stands, platforms, mats, and so on and so forth. All the makings of any other traveling circus.

It occurred to you that you supposed host was the clown-looking man who you had silently begged after Wasp’s torture. You wondered who he was, his image vaguely familiar. Clearly a clown, this was his circus, and the green-haired man mentioned coming back to show you to your seat. You sipped gently on the hot tea, conflicted on whether you should be anxious or excited. You settled on both, steeling yourself, resolving to keep your guard up but also resigning to just go along with whatever lay ahead. You were free of Wasp, and though that meant potentially falling into the hands of another similar situation, you were interested in seeing where this silly little circus went.

You were content with your pot of tea, cozy sofa, and more pillows than any one person should ever have on a sofa, so when your peace was interrupted by the green-haired man’s reappearance you shrugged the sense of comfort off and readied yourself.

“If you’d like to follow me?” The man asked primly with a slight bow, he crossed the room and untied another canvas opening, holding the one curtain back and gesturing you through. With caution you followed his cue, stepping into a darkened room that was incredibly spacious. This must be the main event space. The man gestured to you to follow him and you soon found yourself settled into a plush wingback chair.

“Best seat in the house.” The man said with a smile before taking his leave. You sat and looked out, your eyes adjusting to the semi-darkness and seeing the empty circus ring form. It wasn’t long before the music started up and performers began pouring from what seemed every corner of the big top. You were entranced as you watched fire breathers stalk the edges while acrobats tumbled around them. Closer towards the center were the jugglers all juggling a mix of pins, knives, and lit torches. Just beyond them was another ring, this one with sword swallowers. Above it all aerial acrobats were swinging and tossing each other without a care. And in the very center of the ring was a lion standing amid a platform just big enough for it, while a tamer with a whip and chair antagonized the snarling and snapping beast.

You watched on, your eyes tracking the fluid movement from act to act. You couldn’t help the smile spread across your face so wide it nearly hurt. You clapped and laughed and hollered, you had never seen such a show before. As the music crescendoed your breath caught in your throat, the acts had begun to pick up their pace and their stunts became more dangerous. You were in complete awe and wonder at their skillmanship. On the top of the crescendo, the lights fell while the performers continued on. The light of all the torches fire breathers instantly changed the mood of the show, the wonder of it all now had a darker and sharper edge to it. Slowly the performers cleared from the center of the ring and you watched on, nearly half out of seat, as a form began to build itself in the center. Before you could even begin to wrap your mind around what you had seen, the spotlights all immediately flickered on and zeroed in on the man in the center.

It was the man whose eyes you met across the roadway as you lay gasping in pain in the dirt. He was smiling, something razor sharp but delighted all in the same expression. You threw yourself from your seat and clapped and hollered wildly as he spread his arms, clearly displaying himself as the curator of the wonderful show you had just had the pleasure of watching.

“Thank you, thank you!” The man shouted, bowing dramatically. “However, this was but only the first act.” With a snap of his fingers his performers, all as one, ceased their acts and moved to the outer edge of the ring. Their smiles morphing into something more vicious. Slowly the house lights began to raise and it was then you noticed that you were not the only audience this show had. Off to the side in a set of bleachers, all chained and gagged was Wasp and his crew.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy the clown x reader fanfiction #buggy one piece #buggy fanfiction

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bleedingichorhearts · 2 months

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𝕬𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖑𝖚𝖘 𝕷𝖆𝖕𝖘𝖚𝖘

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Who doesn’t want a Spartan? Also thank you @kit-williams for practically being my mentor. This can also be found in my “ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ” if you would like to be tagged.

TW: Google Translation, Violence?

I woke up with a start, catching the hand that dared to reach for my face. Eyes boring into the person's soul while they tried to yanked their hand away.

Another, different hand caught my offending wrist. Their hand, stronger, bolder, and rougher. Pinning my hand back against the bed while his icy blue eyes; barely hidden by the shadow of his mask, stared down at me.

It left me frozen for a moment, staring into the icy depths of his eyes. A certain devotion in them that left my skin prickling.

He was a towering man with warm olive skin, and dawned in bronze armor with an almost unseeable face glaring down at me. Oh he was definitely a sight to see when waking up.

Jumping into ‘flight or fight,’ I gave a right hook to his helmet with my other hand. A crack echoing out as the soldier stumbled back, surprised while I pulled myself on top of him like a koala, trying to take off his red cloak. The previous person shouted out, and rambled in a language I didn’t understand. Irritating me as I struggled to get this moody man’s damn cloak.

He kept moving in circles. Tipping over things as he tried in every possible way to get me off his back. His hand sometimes wrapped around a limb, but not at a good enough angle to throw me off properly.

Damn it, man built like a goddamn mountain! Just let me take your cloak, and we will be good. Just stay still a little while longer- damn it! Fine!

Reaching up, I grabbed a wooden beam above me, and hung there for a second. Waiting for the soldier to recover.

The man stumbled, his head snapping up to look at me. Eyes absolutely furious. Quickly, I used my legs to wrap around his helmet when he came forward, his hands coming up to my thighs trying to dislodge me.

Putting most of my body weight down on him. I grabbed a hold of his helmet and leaned to the side, going full dead weight on him as we both fell to the stone ground. A loud clunk, and thud going off from our fallen body’s. A grunt coming from the soldier.

Successfully taking the cloak off from him. I didn’t account for his hand pressing into my ribs, a groan leaving my lips. Legs loosening around his helmet as he quickly pulled himself away.

Scrambling to get up on my own feet again, not intending to be pinned down by a chiseled man that I have no doubt that would keep me pinned underneath him. I made haste for the nearest window and jumped out of it.

“Angelus lapsus!” I heard the soldier shout when I jumped from the window. My feet landed harshly onto a wooden roof that broke beneath me at the sudden weight.

Straw surrounded me as my breath left my lungs. My mouth gaping open as I couldn’t breathe, like I forgot how too. My body, trying to curl up on itself to protect the most vital parts of itself.

Slowly shuffling around on the ground. Chuff-like sounds came from me as I struggled to regain my breath. I felt incredibly itchy, dirty even. To be in a bundle of hay, much less a stable of sorts.

Grabbing onto a wooden fence. I pulled myself up on it. My hand beginning to pulse when I slugged that bronze helmet of the soldier. Probably breaking a finger or two by just doing that.

With huff, I looked up at the soldier who looked down at me from the window I jumped from. His shadow only being seen as he quickly moved away from the window.

Using the slight time advantage, I wrapped the cloak in my hands around my shoulders. Hopefully covering me just enough that no one will get suspicious. Especially in the morning.

I wasn’t a fool to know I was in a different timeline. The bronze warrior, the different languages spoken, and the way the houses are made, and decorated are very different from the modern era. Smelled a lot cleaner too.

Flipping up the makeshift hood I’ve made from the cloak. The cloak smelled like it had a musky mint scent that hung to it, and it was a rather clean cloak too. There weren't any tears or stains on it. Was it a brand new cloak? Or was the soldier a clean person?

Stumbling my way out of the stable. I made my way through the streets of this…town? City? In hopes to get out of it quickly. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong in this timeline. Who knows what the people of this time would do if they found out I was not from here?

Another wheeze left my mouth while I cradled my aching hand to my chest. My other hand rested on the corner of a house to stabilize myself.

I could feel that some of my ribs had broken as I touched them lightly with my hand. It’s light pressure on both sides not helping the pain as I felt around for the broken ribs.

I don’t even remember having an event that developed into broken ribs. All I remember is taking a well needed rest, and now I’m here? That didn’t make any sense, why would I end up here in all of the places? In all of the worlds? In all of the timelines?

“Angelus lapsus!” The same soldier yelled, his voice sounded deeper, demanding up close. A spear lodging into the stone in front of me. My nerves jumped at the sound of it being thrown.

Looking back to where the man stood on top of a stone staircase. I gave him my own glare while I straightened up to look at him. His eyes not backing down from mine when I put my hand on the wood of his lodged spear.

Taking the spear from the stone. I gathered enough strength to throw it backup to him. His body moving swiftly sideways, catching the damn spear with ease. His stoic eyes never left mine as I realized this man had a lot of experience.

A spike of unease shot through my nerves. This wasn’t a man I could just kill. He was a man that I had to fight, or lose to, and neither of those options seemed worth it right now.

“Angelus lapsus. Veni huc.” The bronze man spoke again. His form suddenly felt unimaginable to stand 15 feet from. He was much taller than a few moments ago.

Taking a step back when he took one forward. His shadow nearly engulfed my own figure. We both watched each other carefully. Unsure what the other would do.

Would they dash for it? Rush me? Throw me into a wall? Pin me down? Throw their spear again? Just what exactly will the other one do?

His next step chose the decision for me as I turned back around to run away from the soldier, making a dash for it. No way in hell was I gonna try to tackle a man built like a mountain. The dude was at least 7 feet tall! I thought Spartans were 5 '9 on average?

The bronze man shouted out again in his language, that I still have yet to understand what the hell he is saying to me.

What type of language is he speaking to me? It wasn’t Greek. It was more of an ancient language, perhaps Latin? Was I in an Ancient Greek timeline?

I mean, that part could have been more obvious of how the soldier looked. He had the bronze armor of the Spartans and the red cloak they chose as their banner color.

Turning down a tight alleyway I could hear woven baskets falling over that the Spartan tripped over, a growl coming out of his mouth. Urging me to be just a little bit faster than I was despite having some broken ribs that make it painful to run, even twist.

Turning down another alleyway in hopes to avoid his sights. I ended up in a dreadful dead end. A very tall shadow slowly casting over my smaller form.

“Angelus lapsus.” The man’s monotone voice came out again, sending a shiver up my spine when I turned back to look at him. There was something about him that made him feel off. Something I can’t place.

Jumping back, a yelp came from my mouth as he threw his spear into the wall next to me again. Its point very well longed into the wall this time as I looked between him, and the spear before using it to my advantage.

Jumping onto the spear and climbing on top of the dead end wall, nearly tipping over to the other side. A curse of his language came off his tongue from behind me.

Using the wall a bit longer to hopefully get farther away from the Spartan. I slid off the wall when I thought it was safe before zigzagging my way through the ancient city that used to be in shambles. Getting lost a couple of times myself with all the corners I’ve turned.

Pausing to take a look around my surroundings. I wanted to find the best way to run away from this Spartan that seemed to make it his personal mission to collect me. To possibly bring me back where I woke up from.

However, not seeing anything in sight, not even a dock, my only available option was to find a way out of this city and make my way through the surrounding area. From what I assume would be a forest.

Making my way through the quiet night of the city I felt like I could feel an infinite set of eyes on my back since the Spartan had pursued me. My shoulders, heavy with anxiety.

Oh, how am I gonna find my way back to my own timeline in a primitive place like this? There was nothing here for me to figure out on how to get back. Was there even a way to get back?

I sighed and shook my head, slowly going through the city more with at least something to keep me going, and that’s to keep away from the Spartan.

The Spartan, who is only a couple roads down. His eyes staring down my form before slowly pursuing once more.

“Angelus lapsus, ego te capiam.”

ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐮𝐬 II

#spartan #ancient greek #greek #Lacedaemonians #x reader #reader insert #ancient greece #greece #Greek x reader #yandere #yandere Spartan #male yandere #snippet #?

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aubeystawby · 1 year

Text

SINGING BOX Wednesday Addams x GN!Reader

🌲 a date with your girlfriend in the forest + wednesday not quite understanding how radios work 📻 warnings: brief mention of dead animals

Birds chirp and leaves rustle, as you and Wednesday make your way through the forest. You're pretty deep into the sea of trees, having been walking for a bit more than half an hour, and the further you walk the darker your surroundings become, the amount of trees growing dense and their leaves thick. It's beautiful, like the kind of forest in fairy-tales and aesthetic movies.

Wednesday is also enjoying the atmosphere, the ominous cracks of twigs and the almost howls of the forest breathing, the occasional animal skull, and the deep smell of the lively nature.

The two of you are on your way to some sort of... cave? You're not completely sure, Wednesday was pretty vague when explaining the expedition to you, and also gave you very little time to question it.

But even with very little preparation on your part, you've found that the travel is peaceful. It's just you, Wednesday, and the forest. You've both been mostly silent for a lot of the walk, but a comfortable silence that neither of you have any objections to.

"Here we are." Your girlfriend says as the two of you arrive at some sort of hole in the ground.

Wednesday drops your hand that she was holding for some of the walk, and kneels down to pull various items out of her bag.

You assess the cave-like-hole in front of you, and notice that it's not just a normal hole, but it tunnels down and curves until you can't see what's beyond the turn. There's no signs of human interference anywhere around you, but there is deep scratches carved into the rough stone of the bottom and walls of the cave.

"Nice." You comment at the now clear signs of some sort of aggressive creature who's clearly visited this hole at some point.

Wednesday nods, "Indeed. Now, wait up here, I'll be a minute."

You shrug, and sit down, dangling your legs on the edge of the hole.

Wednesday jumps down into the cave with her various items, half of which you've never seen in your life.

Trying to busy yourself until Wednesday calls on you to assist, you grab your bag, looking for something to do. Digging through the random items floating around in there, you find your radio. It's old, and the antenna is bent awkwardly, but last time you used it it worked just fine.

You flip the switch, and adjust the knobs to find any channels. You try all the ones you listen to when at home, but all you get is white noise. So then you try more local channels, like a Jericho news channel, and a Nevermore student-led radio show.

Jericho news is fruitless, but this time you can almost make out what the people are saying, which is a good sign.

The student radio show is more successful. You can understand most of what people are saying, and settle for this.

They're playing some sort of pop-rock song you've never heard before when Wednesday emerges.

She silently stands below where your sitting and holds up something sharp and oval-shaped. You take it carefully, and hold it up to your face trying to examine it.

Wednesday climbs back out and refers to a book you'd brought with you, silently comparing the thing she found with anything similar-looking, trying to find out what it is.

For a moment you both silently try to identify it, until;

"Your box's prisoners are screaming."

For a moment you frown, trying to figure out what she means, until you turn your head to your radio.

It's gone slightly out of tune from the station you'd set it to, and the voices are especially loud at this particular point in the song. So she's right, it does sound like the singer is screaming (rather painfully) through the white noise.

You reach out and turn the knobs, adjusting them until the former clearness returns and the song no longer sounds almost untillegable.

"A shame, It was much better before." Wednesday comments.

You turn back around laughing slightly, smiling at her.

You look at each other for a tender moment, your gaze full of love, and her eyes growing soft. And then she's sliding back down into the cave, back to her searching and examining.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x gn reader #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #reader insert #wednesday series x reader #╰─www.my-writing.com─╯

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honeybcj · 27 days

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HAN HAN HAN HAN HAN

Karkarosier. oh my fucking god. I’ve been thinking about them all day omg you genius <3

Also the danse macabre mention got me excited, please feel free to ramble, mumble, rant about this or anything else about this ship please 🙏

Thank you for indoctrinating me bb xx

KARKAROSIER!!!! you’ve genuinely got me so excited, and yes, i’m convinced to rant on about danse macabre, so buckle your seatbelts and let’s go on a ride (bring any snacks you want, this might get long)

what sticks out to me most: “no one escapes the dance of death”

this is extremely important in the case of evan’s character. when i look at it, i have this feeling deep in my gut that he anticipated his death. he felt it in his bones. he could smell it before it even happened. as someone who spent most of their life fascinated by death, pain, and gore-induced madness, i think evan connected with Death in ways that others may not have thought. it’s not that he wanted to die, but his death was inevitable (just like everyones), but his untimely death did happen well before it should have. he didn’t fear it, he embraced it. to note, evan flat out refused to admit it out loud to anyone. he couldn’t bear the weight of telling others that he would, in fact, die.

i feel like evan is often portrayed as very cold and cadaverous, but to those around him, he unleashes this intense warmth. a possessive kind of “you’re mine, and i’m yours. we are unmovable.” his love is shown in the details, and by keeping that crucial piece of information to himself, he feels like he ultimately saved everyone an immense amount of despair. on the flip side of things, in the eyes of others, they view evan’s death like this tragedy. like his destiny wasn’t to die young, and it is just an unfortunate circumstance. because even those who cause harm and inflict pain and thrive in the hands of death, they too experience suffering, guilt, anger, impossible anguish. they too sob and scream and choke on their own breath. and at the end of the day, one thing remains constant: death equalizes us all. and in evan’s death, he is just like everyone else, but in life, in the land of the living, his memory is put on a pedestal, specifically by karkaroff (and barty too, but for all intents and purposes, i will keep it strictly to karkaroff).

after evan’s death, karkaroff quite literally dances towards death. it’s a terrifying means of coping with the suffering. but he wants to taste death, needs it to heal what he’s been stripped of. almost, if you’d like to take it that far, there was a soul tie between the two of them. when evan’s soul stopped calling out, karkaroff didn’t go off the deep end. he just went quiet. he held onto his love for the dark arts, continued to study it and even in his days of being trapped alone, he pushed on with the memory of evan. so when, in canon, he says “evan rosier” there’s a small part of him that hopes, desperately so, that it was all some sort of nightmare and he isn’t actually dead. karkaroff deeply believes the person should have been barty. so when he finally gets to say “barty crouch…junior”, the relief he feels is immeasurable, yet he still remains a coward. he can’t face it any longer. he tries, so fucking hard, to push through, but it’s not the same. not without evan.

here’s the thing: they were literally death eaters. surrounded by death, embracing death. because that’s all there was to it. they didn’t care about the repercussions. karkaroff only started to care when evan died. he couldn’t keep doing it, but their relationship, whatever it may have been, revolved solely around the complexities and intricacies of death and the morbid curiosities of life. at this point, karkaroff chases Death, but Death says “not yet. it’s not your time.” again, instead of breaking and losing his will fully, he keeps on existing, but as nothing more than a coward, living to try and appease a younger, more innocent version of himself. the same young boy that would find comfort in the cold nights traipsing through the woods or collecting bits and pieces of the world around him to study and explore.

i do, truly, feel compelled to keep going on about these two, but i will stop there because i don’t want to bore anyone (like who is even gonna sit there and read all that????) anywho! that’s what i have to say about it!!!! MWAH MWAH MWAH

#han’s asks #royal tag #karkarosier

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havendance · 1 year

Text

World Gone MAD

AO3

Fandom: Batman, DCU

Featured Characters/Relationships: Dick & Tim

Wordcount: 5600

Summary:

Ask the GCPD about the Joker’s death and they’ll tell you he died of natural causes. Ask the Justice League and they’ll tell you that it’s a matter that has been resolved internally. Ask Batman and he won’t give you an answer because he’s Batman. The truth of the matter, however, is this: Dick Grayson beat the Joker to death.

[Or: A few months after the death of the Joker, Tim Drake comes to Haly’s Circus, looking for Dick Grayson.]

I am hyped to be finally sharing this fic with you all :) Inspired by this tumblr post by @mzminola, with special shoutout to the addition by @silverwhittlingknife, and tags from @avaraydrake.

I've also taken some liberties with the Justice League and how it operates. While ‘8 guys (gender neutral) who get together on the weekends and beat up aliens’ works for the comics, personally I think ‘self-governing group of powerful individuals’ is a much more interesting concept to work with. As such, I have expanded both the membership and scope of the Justice League (at least from what they were for this particular era of comics).

Excerpt:

Stepping into Haly’s Circus felt like stepping into the past. Surrounded by the hustle and bustle — people talking, hawkers shouting, the whir and buzz of the machines, music blasting over it all — Tim could almost pretend he was a boy again. For a moment, he closed his eyes. The summer air was thick and humid, smelling of sugar and sweat, mud and animals. For a moment he was 13, a boy with two living parents who had never been Robin, who was convinced that if he just found Dick Grayson, all of Gotham’s problems would be solved.

He’d been so naive then.

The moment ended. Tim blinked, reoriented himself in the golden light of the setting sun, and started to make his way to the ticket stand. This whole trip had been a return to his roots: stalking Dick Grayson across the country with nothing more than his wits and a bus schedule. He hadn’t been surprised when it had ended in the same place it had begun. But this wasn’t— it wasn’t the same thing. He wasn’t here to fix Gotham, to fix Batman. He was done with that. This was something different.

He bought a ticket and went in.

The circus was fun. Nobody died, or almost died, which was a nice change of pace from the last couple times Tim had gone. He spent most of the time tuning out the whispered conversation from the group of teenagers sitting in front of him, and playing “Where’s Dick?” Tim thought he might have spotted him as one of the clowns again until he came out on the trapeze, and then, well, then it was obvious.

Tim wished he’d brought his camera. Watching Dick fly, anyone could tell he belonged in the air.

—

The facts of the matter are as follows:

On March 22nd, 10:21 pm, the Joker’s location was determined to be Gotham Cathedral. A force-field of unknown origin surrounding the building prevented law enforcement from pursuing him.

At 11:48 pm, Nightwing entered the building. The force field remained up and law enforcement continued to surround the building.

Around roughly midnight, March 23rd, the forcefield dropped and law enforcement entered. According to official reports, inside were found the Joker’s dead body and two other jokerized villains. The two living villains were quickly apprehended and administered the antidote. The Joker’s death itself was ruled to be due to natural causes, likely linked to the terminal growth in his brain.

Unofficial reports put between two and five vigilantes in the building at the time the police entered and that the Joker’s end appeared to be rather more violent in nature. When pressed, all agree that the official ruling of natural causes was correct. (If you get them drunk enough first, in a quiet enough location, then they might give you a different answer, but that always involves urban legends and rumors. The sorts of things that don’t hold up in the light of day.)

Access to classified Justice League files reveal the following additional details:

On March 16th, 9:30 am, the Joker was informed that a brain scan had revealed a terminal mass in his brain. Prognosis suggested he had less than a month to live. The Joker took in this information and decided he wanted to go out with a bang. Later investigation uncovered that the brain tumor was in fact a hoax created by a doctor out for revenge. As by that point, the Joker was already dead, from what were determined to be natural causes, the decision was made that this information would remain classified.

The Joker entered Gotham at an unknown time on March 22nd. Joker gas was released at Arkham Asylum at 4:42 pm on the same day. According to recovered comm records, Oracle sent Robin to investigate Arkham Asylum at roughly 10:30 pm. She lost contact with him at 10:48 pm, shortly after he entered the building, at which point she called in Huntress for backup. Robin was reported dead by Huntress at 11:21 pm.

In his confession, Nightwing stated that he overheard news of Robin’s death, and then immediately stole Black Canary’s bike and raced to the Cathedral. (Black Canary corroborated this fact.) Upon arrival, he attacked and killed the Joker. Robin arrived shortly after, followed by Batman, Huntress, and Spoiler.

Robin’s confession gave the following sequence of events: Upon entering Arkham Asylum, he was attacked by various jokerized inmates. In the struggle, his uniform was torn, later leading his allies to believe him dead. He was captured and brought to the Joker who attacked him. He fought back and the Joker was killed in the struggle. Shortly afterwards, Nightwing arrived and decided to take the fall for him.

Batman and Huntress both testify to the following facts: They arrived to find Nightwing and Robin already there and the Joker dead. Batman ordered Huntress to attempt to revive the Joker through CPR. This failed and the Joker was declared dead upon the entrance of the authorities.

Oracle did not testify, but submitted audio logs from the night as evidence. Interference due to the barrier around the cathedral, damage to the comm devices, and standard issues with Gotham architecture rendered large chunks of it unusable.

Spoiler was unable to be reached for testimony.

—

The truth of the matter is this: Every man has a breaking point. Even the best man will cross their line in the sand if pushed far enough. Sometimes you fail to do the right thing.

Nightwing walked into Gotham Cathedral that night and beat the Joker to death.

Continue reading on AO3!

#tim drake #dcu #the justice league #justice league #the joker #joker: last laugh #my fic #havendance writes #MAD Universe #carthago delenda est #dc #bats + birds + affiliated #dick grayson #last of the flying graysons

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sayafics · 11 months

Text

Ghost - Chapter VI

Slight bit of angst in this chapter, a bit of a turn from chapter V, but I tried to keep their emotions realistic to the situation. Given how highly intense scenes like these are, emotions are going to be everywhere. I just hope I did this some justice, enjoy! <33

TW: Slight? angst, infidelity (cheating on Lori - but also they thought they were going to die, so??), thoughts of suicide (in line with TV storyline)

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

The horse had been trotting along steadily for a while now, Rick and Casper easily losing track of time as they lost themselves in small, random conversations.

Casper had a feeling she had never been to Atlanta before, at least not before the dead had risen. But there was no way for her to know for sure. She was just relying on a gut feeling. So she looked to Rick to learn whatever she could about life in Georgia before the fall.

He told her about his job as a Sheriff's Deputy, about his close friend who worked alongside him, Shane Walsh.

Rick had rambled on about his friend, promising her that when they caught up to his family, she would love him as much as he did. He was a good friend, a great one - one who he knew would have saved his family and protected them when he couldn't.

That conversation had led them to the topic of Rick's family, he seemed hesitant to talk about his wife and if Rick was being honest it was because he couldn't think of what to say.

He and Lori hadn't been on great terms before he was shot, he was sure divorce was even on the table at the time. Lori had said he didn't talk. Not in the way she wanted - he didn't fight, he didn't scream and that meant he didn't love her.

Rick didn't know if that was true. What he did know was he had loved Lori since high school, and that passion had been drained out of him because of constant arguments, constant fights. Rick was sure he loved her, she was the mother of his child. But he didn't know if he was in love with her.

Rick was sure, though, that as long as Carl was breathing Lori would want to make it work, for Carl's sake. But if Rick was being truthful, if anyone had asked him before today if that was what he also wanted, he would have said yes.

It seemed that now things had gotten more complicated.

Rick pushed the thoughts from his mind, instead choosing to focus on his son.

He told Casper about him, about how much Carl admired him and his job, about how much he loved his son, and about how he looked forward to reuniting with him again.

"You're a good father, Rick. Carl is lucky to have you."

The confession was soft-spoken, and Rick knew she had to be thinking of her own folks.

And in truth, she was. Casper dwelled on the photo she had taken the time to see whilst they were at the station, wondering if her father loved her even an ounce as much as Rick loved his son.

She tried to stay hopeful that he was still out there, but if he was, did that mean he had abandoned her? Left her behind? But surely, if he did, he must have had a reason why. Right?

Her thoughts began to cloud her mind, toppling onto one another, causing chaos. There was no other sign of her distress apart from a prolonged silence as she tried to sort out the puzzle that was her mind, only it was so much harder when there were so many pieces missing.

Rick could see how she was losing herself in her thoughts, the way her head moved more loosely as it jolted with the horse's every move, swaying back and forth as she tried to search for the answers that were hidden from her.

Rick didn't like seeing her like that, so quiet and miserable.

It had only felt like a short moment for Casper, as though she had only zoned out for a few seconds. The smell of rotting flesh brought her back to reality, the scent also putting Rick on edge.

As they traversed deeper into Atlanta, they were thrown off by the discourse and chaos that surrounded them - streets had become littered with trash, wrecked cars, abandoned cars, and even a helicopter was left in the middle of the street.

The pair and their horse rode past a crashed bus, unaware of the walkers within that had roused and began to follow them.

Rick and Casper tried to keep an eye on every possible exit, their heads on a swivel as the sound of growling grew louder, the echoes causing the horse to whinny at the walkers headed their way as Rick urges him to a canter.

Casper had gotten used to the motions of the horse, braving her fears as they travelled the highways and roads, eventually being able to brush her hand along the horse's mane without breaking a sweat.

Rick spoke to the horse Casper had secretly named, "Steady. There’s just a few. Nothing we can’t outrun."

He was right. From the few they had seen, it would be easy to outrun. But something about the statement had caused Casper's stomach to twist in dread.

As they turned down a different street, Rick guided the horse past a tank, overturned vehicles, and an abandoned roadblock. Scattered around them are crows scavenging on a soldier's remains up on the tank. Just as they walked past the tank, Rick and Casper hear a helicopter approaching.

"Woah, is that a helicopter?" Surprised laughter escapes her throat - surely if there is a helicopter, then that means the refugee centre has to be up and running.

Rick cheered alongside her, urging the hourse to take off and run after it. They take after the helicopter, so invested in its path along the sky that they hadn't realised they crossed into a street with hundreds of walkers until they began to stumble their way to the horse.

"Holy shit," the fearful whisper from Casper urged Rick to turn back the horse and run him back the way they came. Rick held her tighter against him, fearing that if she slipped off she would be lost to the walkers.

His heart sank at the thought, fear filling his core inch by inch as the reality that he could possibly lose Casper set in.

Rick couldn't watch her be torn apart, couldn't watch her take her last breath, couldn't watch her come back as one of those monsters.

His mind flickered back to the wound on her back, the one they were too terrified to confront. That was a hurdle for another day. First, he had to get Casper and himself to safety.

As they turned back towards the tank, the pair soon realised they were surrounded.

"Oh shit. Oh God." Guilt began eating at Rick's soul as he realised that they were going to die. That Casper was going to die.

And it was all his fault. It was his plans that brought her all the way here, and now she was going to die because of it.

Every way is blocked by walkers who are now close enough they start tearing into the horse. The pair try to keep their seat and find a way out, but the walkers' attack sends the horse into a panic, the dozens of walkers pulling it to the ground with them.

The motion caused Rick and Casper to fall to the ground, watching as the walkers ripped into the horse with no mercy, the raw violence causing a mournful cry to leave Casper, "Brownie!"

Her agonised cry had confused Rick - was she talking to the horse?

Despite the precarious situation, he couldn't help but he amused. With the walkers too busy with the horse to notice, they focused on looking for an escape route in the crowd.

Casper kicks away a walker close to her, her hand scrambling for the dagger at her belt as she spins in circles looking for Rick.

She can't see him, but then - "Casper! The tank! Get to the tank!"

Rick had crawled under the tank, walkers slowly following him from all sides. All that stood between her and Rick now were two walkers.

Casper thought fear would have taken over her body, that she would've frozen and met the same fate as their beautiful horse Brownie.

Instead, now armed with a dagger, Casper felt her body move at its own accord, shifting in a familiar pattern. As though she had done this before, because she had.

She launched at the first walker, holding its shirt tight as she held it back before shoving the dagger through its eye socket into its skull. As she pulled the knife out, she pushed the now actually-dead walker into another one close by causing them to topple over and take more walkers down with them.

With several walkers knocked down, Casper freed herself an opening to the tank, throwing herself onto the ground as she army-crawled along the concrete.

She found Rick in the centre, gun in hand as he waited for her.

She sped up, eager to be at his side, desperate to feel his warmth and comfort. When she reached him, he looked at her in relief and she swore she could see tears pooling in his eyes.

There was no time for a joyful embrace, no time for relieved cries, they were surrounded and now it seemed the walkers were attempting to climb under the tank to follow them.

"Oh God, Rick."

Rick shoots at the nearest one, continuing to shoot until he only has two bullets left. He finds himself looking into Casper's eyes, full of fear and terror. But also, full of trust, full of unabashed, heartwarming trust.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Rick... what ar-"

Rick rolled onto his back with his gun pointed to his head, the action causing Casper's hands to quickly reach up and grab him by the wrist. He couldn't die like this, he couldn't leave her like this.

He freezes for a moment, but his eyes are no longer on her.

Rick sees a hatch, a sigh of relief leaves him as he opens it vigorously.

"Casper, quick," he had to get her in first, but Casper still stared at him in shock and betrayal.

He would leave her behind and take his own life? How could he decide such a fate so easily?

Rick couldn't wait for her to snap back into reality. He pulled her on top of his body, so his chest pressed into her back once more and pushed the both of them through the hatch, quickly closing it behind him.

He crawled as far away from the hatch as he could, with Casper in his arms, until he's up against the side. He's panting into the silent air, then a glance next to him reveals a dead solider and a grenade on a shelf.

Rick reaches for the soldier's gun, the movement arousing the walker. As he turns snarling at Rick, he finds himself pushing Casper away to the other side of the hatch, instinct taking over as he shoots the walker in the head.

The gunshot echoes, the sound succeeding in snapping Casper out of her thoughts.

Once the ringing from the gun had cleared, Casper turned herself to look at Rick, fury burning through her body, "you were going to kill yourself."

It wasn't a question. Of course it wasn't.

"Cas-"

"No, you were going to shoot yourself. You were," her voice cracked slightly, wavering as she looked away from him before continuing, "you were going to leave me."

Casper didn't know why she was so hurt. They had known each other for such a short time, and yet the betrayal hurt so deep that it stung her soul to realise that maybe he didn't care enough. Enough to at least try. Enough to stay by her side and for them to face their fate together.

Rick's eyes shut heavily as he leaned against the side of the tank.

"I know."

He didn't deny it, he was ready to take the coward's way out and leave her behind.

"Why?"

Rick didn't answer her.

"Rick. Please. Just tell me, why?"

"I-. I can't sweetheart."

"Don't call me that."

Her raised voice surprised him, it caused him to straighten as he regarded her with shock. He crawled towards her, his eyes almost desperate as he tried to get her to look at him, "c'mon Casper. I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"Yeah, you weren't," still she wouldn't look at him, she looked hesitant before whispering, "you're a coward."

That had struck Rick hard, his face crestfallen as he realised that it was true. He hadn't even tried to fight for them, hadn't tried his best. He had given up so easily, and that wasn't fair. Not to her.

Rick's heart was beating, he could feel the thuds at the base of his throat, as though it had lodged itself there and started to suffocate him.

"No. C'mon, bab-"

"Stop."

"Cassie." His hand came to lay on the base of her throat, his thumb stroking the edge of her jaw, his grip tight but not uncomfortable. His hands felt soft against her skin despite the callouses on them, but even with his desperation, he didn't place any pressure to move her head his way.

No, it wasn't the name. Wasn't the hand. It was the anguish in his voice, as though he was tormented by the idea she could no longer look at him. As though he was haunted by the fact he could no longer call to her the way he had so easily over the last few days - baby. Sweetheart. And now, Cassie.

That had made her turn to him. The agony that leaked in his voice, only for her to meet his eyes and be greeted by the sight of unshed tears, "Cassie," he was whispering now - happy she heard, happy she listened - leaning forward to press his head against her own, "I didn't think there was another way out. I didn't- no, I couldn't. I couldn't see them tear you apart, I couldn't see you die like that. I couldn't see that."

"But you were going to leave me," her voice shook as tears made their way down her face, but she leaned further into him.

Rick hesitated, only for a moment - "there were 2 bullets."

He turned his head away, as though ashamed by the confession - what did he think this was? A modern-day tale of Romeo and Juliet? He scoffed at his own pretentious thoughts but forced himself to continue, "I would've waited for you, sweetheart."

Those few words said so much more than she was able to analyse at that moment, but it had strangely calmed her. He wouldn't have left her behind, he would just have been waiting for her somewhere else.

He just cared too much to see her suffer.

He couldn't bear to see her turn into one of the walkers and saw death as a better option for them both than to her suffer and die a merciless death.

She wrapped her arms around him, quiet sobs leaving her as she pleaded with him, "don't do that again. Please. I need you, Rick."

The confession had Rick hold her tighter, tears leaving his own eyes now and streaming down his face as he mumbled reassurances, "never again, baby. I promise. I'm so sorry for scaring you, sweetheart."

There it was again, those petnames. Names that brought her such a deep sense of solace that she couldn't find it within herself to pull away.

The two were lost in each other’s arms, relishing in the warmth and familiarity as they took comfort in one another.

Rick pulled himself back slightly - the tank was surrounded. Even if they tried to escape, one of them could get bitten and turn, and if they were to stay in here, they would starve to death before the walkers got to them. And even if they did survive all of this, Rick recalled the wound on Casper's back once more, the one they had both been too afraid to see, the one that could have been a walker bite. Even if they did survive this, Casper could die and turn anyway.

Rick brushed his nose gently against Casper's, the action causing her to open her eyes and look into his. For a moment, it was as though the mountains had met the ocean, brown and blue hues gazing into each other.

Casper made the first move, leaning up to brush her lips slightly against Rick's, the action causing him to inhale tightly. Casper paused, waiting for Rick to make a decision.

And he did.

He leaned closer, sealing their lips together and just as he-

"Hey, you. Dumb asses. Yeah, you guys in the tank. Are you cosy in there?"

A man spoke over the radio, his voice causing the two to rip themselves away from each other, avoiding looking into their counterpart's eyes.

Embarassment filled the air, Rick rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as Casper held her face in her hands, hoping to conceal her red, burning cheeks.

It took a few deep breaths to compose themselves, and after they had, they turned to look to the radio in disbelief.

#andrea twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon x reader #glenn rhee #lori grimes #rick grimes #rick grimes x oc #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rickyl x reader #shane walsh #carl grimes #twd daryl #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #rick grimes x reader x daryl dixon

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detectivemaker · 14 days

Text

Another dump of ideas I've been having recently

Warning some NSFW topics are mentioned in this post

I really like the idea of jervis getting a taste of his own medicine especially Gotham tetch being put under using the old mirror trick, I can imagine it now he's cornered by the Batman in the Hall of Mirrors, he pulls out his pocket watch but the Crepes Crusader steps out of the way and lets his own reflection do the rest, the police find him his pupils blown and muttering Alice in Wonderland quotes in a hush whisper, and he is quite embarrassed when he wakes in prison, and that he was incredibly hard doing in the entire experience

Philip(with an F) as you know like the air of time where Pirates existed, but he also likes rock music, more specifically stuff by Papa Roach and shinedown, when he's not sailing the high seas drinking copious amounts of alcohol on a ship with muscular man, he can usually be found doing song covers in a cheap gay bar surrounded by adoring fans

A bit more info on his particular mind screwy power, the Aura I was talking about is more a natural sense to him that invades people's brains and makes them believe he's whatever they want them to believe he is, and believe whatever he wants them to believe they are, his powers can be temporarily neutralized by bathing him, he doesn't take baths to keep his powers potent, his scent can best be described as a mix between sea salt and several varieties of cheap beer, with a tiniest teenage little flicker of cinnamon

He's ignotic smell also extends to his breath, that smells like Cuban cigars and a cacophony of dead animals, his breath naturally comes out in a thick Smoky texture, he only uses this breath variety of his hypnotic scent on people smaller than him, usually grabbing them by the car or whatever clothing they're wearing and blowing his breath into their faces until they're begging him to let them pleasure him sexually

Usually prefers to be sexually tended to by muscular studs, he does occasionally like to find a nerd and absolutely dominate them

I probably haven't mentioned this before but Michael and his siblings are Dimension hoppers, so they've encountered all sorts of incarnations of Batman and his Rogues gallery, this is to say that Philip(with an F) usually goes hunting down a riddler when he feels the urge to subjugate a nerd, watching that green smartass be turned into a simple sex toy is a real turn on for him

Chimera genitalia is a fusion of the two animal halves, there so Michael has double spiked dongs, and Phillip(with an F) has double knots, Peter has a regular bear dong but also a butthole that he pees through

Peter can see the future but only in a metaphorical visions, he also a skilled necromancer, he can twist the forms of spirits and specters like an artist with clay

the Sensation of being marked into a chimera's harem feels like a branding iron on whatever part of the body the mark shows up on, it hurts a lot

Chimera's have a stronger mental defense against the abilities of others of their bloodline, so unless a reptile bloodline Chimera is trying really hard they can't really affect another, and the amount of hard usually induces nosebleeds so psychic battles for Dominion of the throne usually get bloody

Michael is immune to the mirror trick because the usual amount of effort he puts into mind doming a person is the minimal amount, so he barely feels it and usually ends up with the person who tried it being their pants and barking like a dog for the rest of the week

Michael is either killed or severely mind screwed every Hugo he's coming to contact with, the ones he's mine screwed have been rendered into shells of themselves who can only bark and act like dogs, and he's eating every last one of the ones he's killed

So here's some voice head cannons I have for the poison siblings

Michael Speaks in a crisp British accent, something you'd hear from a spy movie, or special guest star from England in a old sitcom

Peter speaks in a Irish accent, he doesn't do a lot of swearing, it's more akin to an Irish Winnie the Pooh than anything

Philip(with an F) either speaks in a very stereotypical pirate voice, like a surfer, or New York gym rat

Elizabeth either speaks like those memes about spray tan English girls or like a valley girl

They were two people the poison siblings can all agree they like to screw if the most, the music master and mad mod

Peter likes both of them because one of them is good at singing and the other has a vintage flare he likes, not the sort of vintage he usually clings on to, too modern for his tastes, but he's good enough

Michael likes them both because they're mind screws, and he likes to screw his mind screws, also he likes Meister singing voice

Elizabeth likes them both because they're both theatrical

Peter likes them both because the redheads, and anyone who's redhead like him is someone worth his time, in addition he also likes meister for his singing voice, guy really helps in winning crowds

They all refer to Meister as Songbird, and each of them refer to mod as either something relating to his real name or his villain name, like mody, Mr dick(his last name is Richard) or Just Neil

#jervis tetch #michael afton #crying child #elizabeth afton #foxy bully #ocs #hypnosis #mind control #music meister #mad mod #gotham fox #batman #edward nygma #voice headcanons

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diovstheworld · 1 year

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La Squadra and Self Care

this has been sitting in my drafts for way too long so it’s time to finally post lmaooo. self care, hygiene, what they smell like, how they relax. a whole bunch of stuff. honestly they’re more just like personal life headcanons for the boys but oh wellll. enjoy! also i’m working on requests and stuff, i’m just so busy with class work and some things going on in my personal life i’m sorry </3

୨ ╭ ୨୧ ✦ ︶꒷꒦・⎯⎯・⎯⎯・₊ˎ✧๑

Illuso:

self care king honestly

in terms of hygiene, this guy showers twice a day, three times if hes around or has the time

face mask before bed every second night and has a morning and evening skincare routine

often likes to reward himself at the end of the week with a nice bath surrounded by some scented candles. this is his favourite way to relax

has a very strict sleep schedule. if you wake him up before 8am and it’s not important, he will fight you lmao

his hair is of most importance so takes great care of it. he washes it very regularly and loves to brush it until it’s silky smooth

he will not leave the house with any knots in his hair. for this reason, he takes a hairbrush with him in case he has to brush it whilst gone

he smells like his shampoo tbh. like some sort of floral scented shampoo

he’s always making use of body sprays and colognes too. normally also floral scented

to relax, aside from a nice bath, he likes to sit down and read people’s horoscopes. he probably keeps some sort of horoscope journal so he likes to fill that out too

sometimes he’ll play video games with formaggio and some of the other guys

Formaggio:

honestly i can’t unsee that one part where he doesn’t wash his hands after going to the bathroom so this man is…questionable with his hygiene

showers when he remembers or can be bothered

applies way too much deodorant and probably reeks of lynx africa

that being said, he probably puts on cologne sometimes

he doesn’t have a routine to be honest. just a shower and deodorant and he’s probably good to go. cologne if he remembers it or the situation requires it

illuso and proscuitto have probably tried to persuade him to do face masks and skin care routines with them but he always tells them it’s a waste of time lmao

people buy him fancy shower gels and stuff for christmas and he doesn’t take the hint. he continues to use the lynx africa shower gel that came in a set with his deodorant

all jokes aside i think he would shower when he knows he’s unclean or personally feels unclean

always taking breaks for his mental state, most likely playing video games. it’s his escape. he enjoys playing them with ghiaccio and melone

he often stays up late doing so but this man will ALWAYS catch up on his sleep lmaooo. he’ll probably be napping at the worst possible times due to a messed up sleep schedule

also likes to relax by crocheting little hats for his cat <3

also uses 2-in-1 shampoo and body wash (nothing wrong with it btw, i just definitely see him using it)

Prosciutto:

has amazing self care, this man definitely has a big self care routine (partly because he’s worried grateful dead will have a negative effect on his appearance)

definitely showers every day, maybe even twice a day

i think he would use a bit of hair products like spray or gel so i think he’d be the kind of guy who washes his hair everyday otherwise it’s gonna be really clogged up there with all that hair product lmaooo. sometimes just simply washes it with water, other times he’s using shampoo and conditioner

also uses a lot of cologne. never leaves the house without it. he’d rather be caught dead than not have on his favourite scent

speaking of what he smells like, i haven’t smelled many men’s cologne, but i do know i love the smell of tom ford noir and i can picture him wearing this

also leaning into the whole what he smells like thing, he probably has a faint whiff of tobacco from him. it lingers on his clothes but not in a pungent, unpleasant way. it’s more comforting and has become part of his natural scent alongside his cologne :) he makes sure he doesn’t reek of cigarettes

he probably has a lot of colognes (probably gets them as birthday and christmas gifts when no one knows what else to get him). he also probably has a lot of skin care items

speaking of skin care, he definitely has a routine he does every morning and night for sure. he hates it when his skin starts to feel rough in the slightest. also shaves often for this reason. he hates the feeling of hair on his face

will take time for himself by stepping away and going to read, he’ll probably do a face mask while doing so lmao

on the whole sleep schedule thing, this man goes to bed at 11pm. maybe 10:30pm if he’s extra sleepy. he’ll only stay up late if a job requires it

not exactly self care but i just wanted to include the headcanon that pros carries a tiny little foldaway comb in his suit jacket pocket at all times

i also think he’s the kind of guy who sings in the shower lmaooo. he likes to sing heart of glass by blondie (i’m going to make a post on my music headcanons for la squadra but it’s gonna be a little messy and all over the place in terms of what i think the guys would listen to sooo that post might be a while away lmaooo)

Risotto:

just like prosciutto and illuso, he has his own morning routine. doesn’t have a skin care routine per se but he definitely uses face creams and such when he remembers or has the time

also a man who showers daily

he doesn’t bother too much about his hair unlike pros and illuso since his hair is kept under his hat anyway

that being said, he does wash it regularly. he gets irritated when he knows it feels unclean

he mostly relaxes by reading and listening to music. he also likes crime novels but often finds them rather cliche and can work out everything before the end of the book

also listens to music a lot while doing things like paperwork or other activities that don’t require him listening to his surroundings. music is a big comfort for risotto for sure

i feel like he often struggles to sleep so he often uses sounds he finds relaxing to get to sleep (mostly rainforest noises)

i have a shower song for risotto too unfortunately and it’s pour some sugar on me by def leppard :,)

i think he’s definitely got the cleanliness part nailed down but he’s not so good at relaxing since he’s always so busy so he’s probably not the best at self care

he’s always getting lectured by the other guys to take a break and take some time to himself for a while because honestly, he often forgets to take any time for himself

Ghiaccio:

firstly, he definitely relaxes by playing video games and reading comic books. he loved to escape in stuff like that

i also feel like he relaxes by cleaning for some reason. like, he finds it very satisfying and calming to clean up his room while he listens to some music in his headphones and blocks out the shenanigans of all the other guys lmaooo

as for his levels of cleanliness, i can see him being a very clean man in all aspects

just like pros and illuso, he showers at least twice a day. however, unlike pros and illuso, he probably uses like a 2-in-1 shampoo and body wash. i can imagine him wondering (more like ranting) about why you would buy two individual products for more money when you can have the two products in one and save money

despite melone's efforts to try and change ghiaccio's ways, ghiaccio does not have a facial care routine in terms of things like moisturizers

he does, however, take care of his skin more now than he ever did due to constant outbreaks of spots so i can definitely see him at least using some sort of fancy face wash, even if he does refuse to do any other parts of a skincare routine

Pesci:

first of all, this boy likes watching slime videos to relax. he finds the noises very relaxing!

also likes to watch tik toks to take a break from the world

just like his big bro, he has a very good self care routine! he has a very similar one in fact

has a skin care routine and normally follows alongside prosciutto to make sure he’s doing it right

sometimes joins in the face masks

also he smells of apple shampoo! the smell is very comforting to him <3

other ways he likes to relax is by doodling. he’s not necessarily great at art but doing little doodles makes him happy. i totally think he would have his own OCs for the different media he consumes (he’s just like me fr)

also likes to read to relax! he often reads comic books and gets a lot of recommendations from ghiaccio and borrows them from him often

if he can’t fall asleep on his own, he sometimes goes to formaggio or ghiaccio’s room and falls asleep watching them play their video games

but for the most part he has a strict bedtime set for himself to ensure he gets the sleep he needs

Melone:

loves getting his nails done

also likes doing other peoples nails to help them relax too

just like prosciutto and illuso, this guy also has a good self care routine in terms of skin care and hygiene

also part of the face mask gang. i can imagine melone, illuso and prosciutto have a little self care night doing each others nails and doing face masks and having a good little gossip

part of the night owl gang. he stays up late often playing games with formaggio and ghiaccio though he probably is the first one to cave in and go to bed

again, i think he would like to read. he definitely has a stack of books at his bedside that he’s desperately trying to get through when he has the time

i think he would also have a floral scent to him. illuso often accuses of stealing his shampoo or body sprays because the smell is so similar

very sensitive to light when he’s trying to sleep. even the tiniest little bit of light sneaking through the curtains will disturb him so he sleeps with an eye mask over his eyes

Sorbet and Gelato

as per usual, i don’t have many headcanons for these guys but whatever they do, fully expect them to be joined at the hip

i mean they’re brushing their teeth in the bathroom together, they’re doing their skincare routines in sync

they shower separately but they do enjoy having baths together. in fact, this is probably their ideal way to relax

they definitely like to paint each other’s nails too when they have the time. the second any one of them has a chip in the polish, they’re taking it off and redoing it for sure

they also like to snuggle up on the sofa together with a blanket sharing the same book as they read together <3

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