#They will find something or someone to blame. They often blame the weather

[morning-fragility]

🔊 Sleep Token — The Apparition 🔊

What remains of you and me so far:

[ Check out the first post about this AU ]

Hii, my mind has been running every direction all at once lately, so RAW BULLET POINTS IT IS! 💥🔫

● It all starts when Jimmy asks Grian to help him with bore holes for their survey last fall.

(In his head, Grian agrees the very first time Jimmy comes to him, but enjoys taunting him for another week nontheless)

The place is in the middle of nowhere, and the entire way there — the entire long, tiring, mostly off-road way there — Grian wonders how they found this valley to begin with. Locals in the last village they pass smile at them condescendingly; forester is a bit more straight-forward: they look like three presumptuous idiots, Joel, Jimmy and himself, with their car getting stuck miserably at one point.

The very first bore hole drills directly into a human skull.

The complex swirl of emotions on Jimmy's face is like nothing Grian has seen before.

And so it was settled.

● (Yes, the skull they drill into was Jimmy's.)

● Next summer Grian brings along Mumbo, his fellow geologist and dear friend ever since their university times; he has never worked with archeologists before and is, naturally, chuffed to bits.

Scar has been eager for some kind of vacation for a long time, too, and gladly takes the opportunity to try something new.

The only other wild card in otherwise pretty well-established group of archeologists is Tango, who lost a bet to Skizz and is now stuck helping his boys.

(Cub was invited by multiple people as well, but sadly he's too busy with work and couldn't make it, despite planning to. Scar calls him every time he's able to catch the signal).

● At first everything goes normally. They get to the place, set up their camp near old cabin of local gamekeeper, move their provisions and most of the equipment inside the cabin, check out the river and find a good spot to get down to it easily. The weather is pretty nice, the nature around is gorgeous. The first time they go to take a proper look at the site itself Grian feels a bit dizzy, but he doesn't pay much attention to it and quickly joins the discussion of outlines of the buildings visible on the ground.

● The oddities begin a couple of days later, when they finish with the camp and start the actual work.

Specifically, Grian starts acting weird.

Not like it's out of character for him, but neither Scar, nor Joel or Mumbo recall him having, say, troubles with hearing; now, often he's not reacting when someone calls out to him directly, but mentions hearing people talk when nobody spoke. Sometimes he looks openly lost or suddenly stops in his tracks and gives them confused glances, as if wanting to ask something or surprised to see them. A couple of times he wonders off into the woods alone (to "check what's out there" )

The gang are reasonably worried about him, but hesitate to confront him openly. Most of them are not exactly familiar with Grian's personal life and don't want to overstep, and each time someone who is tries, he brushes them off.

● At some point in the beginning of the second week, Grian suddenly breaks into laughter when they uncover yet another skeleton. It's loud, abrupt. Hysterical.

Scar, who's getting real concerns now, steadies him by the shoulders and leads him away from the sun, back to the camp; but Grian barely notices.

On their way from the site, Grian locks eyes with Scott, who goes pale and stays that way for the rest of the day. That's enough for Grian to gather he's not the only one who's rapidly going insane.

● And Grian starts thinking he's going insane. At first he blames it on the nerves. The last couple of months have been stressful, the weather is hot lately, he's not getting enough sleep, he must have overworked himself...

But this barely explains what he's actively hallucinating, and eventually it all sinks in. The realization, the deja vus. The dread. The feeling of being trapped, helpless, stuck in a loop he had no idea existed and likely has no control over.

He withdraws into himself and starts avoiding people; particularly Scar, because oh, Grian is terrified of visions of him. Of hearing his voice say words he can't understand, of echo of his laughter carried through the valley, of his silhouette following him along the treeline. Of seeing what remains of his bones and trying not to throw up.

There are visions of others, too, and they mess with Grian's head all the same, sure, but Scar is just... different. Too much. Grian can't look him in the eye now, can't stand the warmth of his touch. But can't get away either.

They must've loved eachother then, too. He can tell.

This revelation makes Grian feel relieved and betrayed at the same time, and all he can think about is the question of free will.

● Scar is very confused by this change, even when he starts getting visions of his own.

Grian doesn't kiss him anymore. Doesn't smile at him. Often doesn't even sit near him or Mumbo at breakfast and lunch, too deep in conversation with Big B. He refuses to talk about this; ignores Scar only to suddenly brush shoulders or lean into him, and then act like it never happened.

Worst of all is the way Grian is looking at him lately — well, mostly he doesn't, — but when he does, it's with an emotion Scar can't identify. A mix of anger, sorrow, longing, guilt, and something else, much softer, tender. It drives Scar crazy.

Most of the expedition members don't even know there's something between them. Although they were never officially together, so even Scar himself is not sure anymore. He thought they were fine, but apparently he messed something up, didn't he? Overstepped somewhere, misunderstood something, rushed, did something wrong... Otherwise why would Grian be like this when they're clearly meant to be together, what in the world is he doing to both of them? Is he blind??

● (I really liked how poetically Birdie put this when I rambled about it to them):

● And so, while Grian is staring at visions of Scar from the past with fear and sorrow, Scar chases the visions of Grian, curious about this version of him, needing to know more. He feels uneasy about some of the hallucinations at times, sure, but they intrigue him nevertheless.

● The expedition carries on, nevermind the awkward silences between people, half-truths, shared looks of confusion and deep, unspoken sadness.

● Scar paints local views, trees, mountains, the riverbank. Sometimes Bdubs or Pearl join him and they disappear together for hours, only to later return with hands full of sketches, wet canvases and Scar's trusty painter's case, with smudges of oil paint all over their hands and faces, laughing and chatting.

He tries to be a bit more sneaky about this, but he also draws people, Grian chief among them: little portraits of him are scattered all across his sketchbook, both real and the one from the visions. Along with Jimmy, Lizzie, Mumbo, Bdubs and others.

● They find a couple of old fishing rods in the cabin, and with a bit of tinkering and Etho's professional fishing kit, there's an impromptu fishing club on the weekends. Grian finds some peace in these evenings.

● The work goes at a fast pace; there are very few problems with identifying artefacts and deciding where to expand the excavation next. Nobody bothers asking questions anymore.

Pearl stops talking to Scott. Martyn doesn't seem to leave Ren's side. Cleo frowns at them and sticks to teasing Etho and Bdubs.

● The breaking point comes when the weather gets bad. There are several rainy days in a row, and they're forced to mostly stay at the camp and busy themselves with cleaning and cataloging the artefacts. Grian sorts through things that used to belong to some other version of him and decides he can't take it anymore. He wants to leave. As soon as possible, as far as possible. This prompts a heated discussion amongst archeologists, but Cleo gives Grian a knowing look and backs him up, assuring Martyn she'll deal with the paperwork herself when they return at the end of the season (and will personally make sure Grian doesn't get a single penny out of this). Besides, they've been planning on sending Joel to the store anyway.

● Scar is not as nonchalant when he learns about this, — did Grian even plan to tell him?

He's mad, in fact.

Upset and done with playing this silent game with ever-changing rules, he confronts Grian about what's going on; about them and their history (both as they knew it and the one discovered more recently).

(here's a little snippet):

They fight outside as the rain gets heavier and heavier, and Scar storms off to "check if the site is properly covered", secretly hoping to see a vision of Grian from the past there; he'd be much more pleasant to deal with right now, that's for sure.

Grian doesn't follow.

He returns to the camp alone. Joel tells him there's no way they're driving through the mess that are the forest roads right now, and nobody sees him for the rest of the evening.

● The next day Scar wakes up with a nasty cold. The sun comes out, though. It's getting hot again.

● The worst of the puddles and the mess on the road dry out in a day, and Grian and Joel set out for the trip. They're worried about Scar (Grian feels so, so bad about this) and propose taking him to the hospital, but Cleo gives them a look ("it's a bloody cold, Grian, he's not dying. Although he might, if you try taking him on that hellish roller-coaster with a fever") and waves them off.

Mumbo stays; he's glad to find Scar asleep when he comes to check on him.

● The entire way to the nearest village with a convenience store — the entire gloomy, bleak, mostly off-road way there — Grian contemplates on existence in general and the last several weeks of it in particular. On the concept of soulmates. On what Scar had told him. On assuring himself he's in charge of his own life, and living said life without Scar in it.

Joel curses his car on every bump and tries to pull Grian out of his thoughts. It works, for a while. But when they finally get to the store, all Grian can think about is the pack of pistachios on the shelf and every time Scar said he wanted some this month. About how Scar is wallowing in his tent right now, sick and miserable, in the middle of nowhere. How this is Grian's fault entirely, how he made this choice for both of them, and now runs like a coward.

How unimportant and not right everything seems suddenly, when Scar must be heartbroken and so lonely — bright, kind, handsome and mischievous Scar...

● Joel pays at the checkout and joins Grian at the stairs in front of the store with two cans of beer.

The moment Grian thinks he's about to be lectured, Joel is already starting his "alright, Grian, what's blummin' wrong with you, you stupid arse". So Grian grins into his can and enjoys playing dumb. Because oh, he's got no idea what Joel's talking about, who's going where? He never said he's leaving-leaving, just volunteered to help a friend with groceries, he's nice like that.

When he senses he's about to get punched, possibly in the face, Grian gets up and starts loading Joel's car with grocery bags and boxes (maybe that's what saves him from a bruise after all).

● Joel gets his first flashback when he and Grian are getting out of his jeep late in the evening, talking about families and prospects of Joel settling down and starting one with Lizzie. He's very confused, but his experience is the least traumatizing of them all :'D

● (another snippet):

And Grian stays, truly. He tries not to run from visions anymore, but searches for Scar's hand every time he feels panic crawl into his chest instead. It's not that he stops contemplating the questions of fate and free will in all of this, as much as he finds it doesn't really matter anyway.

They leave together with half of the group two weeks later, causing several surprised gasps (and a cheerful whistle from Mumbo) when kissing on the site one last time, as a goodbye to it and whatever happened there.

(And what exactly happened there? Nobody knows yet, and nobody will never know for sure. That's history for you, baby >:] )

________________

There you go! Most of this is directly from my notes, so hope it's not too chaotic and maybe even understandable :'D

[0silver0dreams0]

Love against hatred

Part of my story Yandere House of the dragon x ModernReborn!Reader

When affection turns obsessive, even hatred cannot extinguish love. A lover, consumed by longing, refuses to accept rejection as the end. To him, hatred is not an end but a challenge — a sign that feelings still linger. While the beloved sees betrayal and pain in every glance, the lover envisions a future where their bond is restored. With unwavering devotion, he will stop at nothing to bridge the divide, for in his eyes, love against hatred is still love — and worth any cost.

✦ Jacaerys Velaryon was never one to shy away from his emotions. From the moment he could understand the concept of affection, he had felt drawn to you, his cousin. Your grace, your wit, your strength — they all captivated him, like a moth hopelessly drawn to a flame. As children, your laughter had been his favourite sound, your approval his greatest reward. Yet, as the years passed and tensions between your families deepened, that love turned into an obsession, a need to protect you, to have you near, despite your growing disdain for him.

✧ Jacaerys had always admired your poise and strength. To him, you were the embodiment of everything noble and pure, a light in a world often tainted by ambition and betrayal. When you were children, you had been his confidant, the one person who could make him laugh, who made the burdens of being the heir to the Iron Throne seem lighter. He remembered how you used to smile at him, how you used to hold his hand without hesitation. But those days were long gone.

✦ After the fateful night when Aemond lost his eye, everything changed. The bond that had once united you both was shattered. You blamed his family for the pain inflicted upon your brother, and that blame extended to him. The warmth in your eyes turned to cold indifference, then to outright hatred. Yet, Jacaerys could not bring himself to let you go. If anything, your rejection only fuelled his determination to win you back.

✧ Your hatred hurt him, but it also fascinated him. How could someone so perfect harbour such a fierce, burning loathing? He told himself that it was born from misunderstandings, from the poisoned words of those around you, that Aemond and Alicent were at fault. If only he could make you see his devotion, his unwavering love, you would surely come to love him again.

✦ Jacaerys would watch you from afar, his dark brown eyes lingering on you with a mixture of longing and frustration. He hated the walls you had built between the two of you, but he respected them enough not to tear them down outright. Instead, he sought to find cracks, little moments where he could remind you of what you once shared. A fleeting glance, a stolen conversation, a carefully chosen gift left at your chamber door.

“She hates me,” he would tell himself late at night, lying awake and staring at the ceiling. “But hate is not indifference. At least she still feels something.” It was a twisted comfort, but it kept his hope alive.

✧ In his mind, your hatred was a challenge, a test of his love. He would endure it, weather it, and prove to you that he was worthy. No matter how many times you spurned him, he would not falter. To him, your rejection was not a door slammed shut but a wall to be scaled.

✦ His tendencies manifested in subtle ways. He ensured that no one else could come close to you, quietly sabotaging potential suitors and watching them retreat in confusion. He would find reasons to be near you, orchestrating encounters that seemed coincidental but were anything but. Even in the council chambers or the training yard, his thoughts were never far from you. From a distance, he watched over you, guarding you in ways you never noticed but always ensuring your safety. Rhaenyra, whether knowingly or not, only fed these tendencies. She often spoke of how much he cared for you, how his devotion was proof of his strength as a man and a future king. Her words validated his obsession, turning it from a private torment into something he felt was righteous and inevitable.

✧ Yet, despite his obsession, Jacaerys’ love for you was genuine. He wanted to protect you from the harshness of the world, to shield you from the political machinations that had driven your families apart. He dreamed of a future where you could forgive him, where your laughter would fill the halls of Dragonstone once more.

✦ But for now, he endured your hatred, clinging to the hope that, in time, love would prevail. Even if it meant waiting a lifetime, even if it meant enduring the sharp edges of your scorn, Jacaerys Velaryon would never stop loving you. To him, your love was worth any price, even the pain of your hatred.

Because, in the end, love against hatred was still love — and that was enough to keep him going.

Taglist:

@ursinaw @dakota-rain666 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @pookiedragonfire @jjggdfvvy @maryldrsstuff @1soultaken @ceramic-raven @eissaaaa @moodyblueberrytree @xadaboo @labryel @zoeyburton @hopingtoclearmedschool

[sparks-and-smoke]

Hello!

What about an avengers reader and bucky fic where reader dosnt realize they are in an depressive episode but bucky or steve or both ( platonically or romantically) notices.

Haha I just surfaced from a major depressive episode so that's where the inspiration came from.

Also hi!

Hi <3 this one is a little longer because, well I guess I needed it too. Plus fluffy lovey Stucky is my bread and butter. 

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky barnes x reader, Stucky (but not really the focus)

Content/Warnings: mental health, depression, anxiety, self care

Author Note: as someone who also struggles with mental health I personally loved this ask. Thank you, and I hope your feeling better sweets. Take care. 

(Bonus note from my editor @voice-of-velhart)

Editor Note: Depression is not an easy thing to make your way out of, but I'm proud of ya'll for pushing through it and I'm glad your here. <3

The brain fog was the thing that set in first. It was hard to fall out of a routine living in the compound. Day in and Day out it was training and meal regimens. Sparring and paperwork. Someone was always around and yet you felt like you were drifting. Going through the motions with little to no reason to do so other than if you didn’t what else would fill your day. No one seemed to notice your lack of enthusiasm, or how your typically attentive nature had been slipping lately. Your reports were still on time and you weren’t pulling your punches in training so you were probably fine… right?

It was burn out or maybe you were feeling under the weather. At least that's what you told them if they asked. And while your friends and team loved you, they were busy people with the literal weight of the world on their shoulders. So who could blame them when they didn’t keep tabs, or at least you thought they didn’t keep tabs. 

Bucky sat in the library trying to find a fantasy book he hadn’t already read. Tony was a brilliant guy but he had horrible taste in written fiction. As he perused, he kept you in his peripheral vision. You stared down at your now cold cup of coffee looking lost even though you weren’t moving. He had noticed you are like this a lot the last few weeks. You shower less and less, your normally shiny maintained hair more often than not on the greasy and dull side of the spectrum. And he hadn’t seen you touch the piano or your switch in days. He was getting concerned. 

He taps Steve with his foot. “What?” 

The big guy had been deep in thought, sprawled out in a lounge chair with his nose in a tablet. “Have you noticed Angel is different lately?” 

Steve glanced up, taking a look at their girl as she swirled the coffee in her mug, totally disassociating. “Yeah, she said she was under the weather. I tried to get it out of her what was wrong but she’s being cagey.” his brows knit together in a mask of concern. “Sure is lingering a long time to be just a bug, don't cha think?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah I do… what are we gonna do about it.” 

Steve sighed heavily and set down his tablet, giving the issue his full attention. He thinks back to those long cold winters in brooklyn. When the snow was deep and his bones would ache so bad he didn’t wanna get out of bed. There were always little things that would help him get out of those slumps. Bucky making him get up and shower was always a good start, followed by warm food and if they could find it, sunlight. 

“I think we're gonna start by helping our girl feel human again..” 

~~~~

Steve and Bucky formed a game plan. The two men are nothing if not efficient and tactical. Steve went down stairs to start food. Something starchy and savory. Comfort food. Meanwhile, Bucky started operation Angel Self Care. 

“Angel.” Bucky's voice was soft, wrapped in warm velvet. And you barely registered it before he was crouching down and smoothing back your hair from your face. Taking your untouched cup out of your hand. “How long have you been sitting here, beautiful?” 

You shook your head as if you could wave away the mist behind your eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Lost track of time I guess.” Bucky just hums. Yeah, he knows that feeling. He also knew it never led anywhere good. 

“Lost in thought?” 

You looked up to meet his gaze, warmth and concern mixing in the set of his jaw and the draw of his brows. “Yeah I guess. I’m fine babe. Don’t worry about it I’m just..”

“Feeling under the weather. Yeah, I know. You’ve been saying that a lot lately. I’m starting to think it’s a cop out.”

It is and you know it but you don’t know what else to say. “I just. I don’t know what wrong with me lately. I just… I don’t wanna do anything. Like anything ya know? It’s like sometimes waking up alone is all I have in me for the day. Do you know how that feels.”

If anyone knew how you felt it was Bucky. Hell sometimes he still felt that way, decades of torture and actions out of his own control had left him with more then his own share of depressive tendencies that drag him deep down under the current of reality pretty regularly. There are days he goes completely nonverbal, only going through the motions on autopilot. The only people who can pull him out are Steve, and you. And therapy, lots of therapy. “Of course I do. You know I do. But Angel, you can’t live there. It’s ok to feel it, but you need to acknowledge it and try to crawl back out. It’s ok if you can’t do it alone baby.”

You feel a thick lump forming in your throat that you can’t quite swallow down. The urge to argue, to tell him your fine and he’s being overbearing was there. But more then that you knew he was right. Something was wrong, and you couldn’t climb out on your own. But you weren’t ready to say it. Not yet. 

“Come on honey, let’s get you cleaned up and get some food in your belly. That might help a little.” Bucky didn’t wait for you to protest, he slid one arm under your legs and the other around your back and headed up to Steve’s quarters. Not caring in the slightest if teammates or recruits saw. That was a problem for later Bucky. 

~~~~

The big six had full apartments in the upper levels of the compound. Which means he could squirrel you away to Steve’s private bath and get you in the shower. Vetiver and pine, a familiar comforting scent. Gently and quietly he started the shower to an acceptable temperature for you (hot enough to turn your skin the next shade of blush.) and stripped you down to help you in. 

There was nothing sexual about the way he did this. It was all just about loving you. Helping you, as  he guided you into the water and let it wash away your stress. He pulled you back against his chest. “There’s my girl. That feel better Angel?” 

You nod as the smell of Steve’s body wash fills the small space. “Do you mind if I wash you?” 

With your permission he sets about cleaning you up. Slow loving strokes over your body as he pulls you back to lean on his chest. “You know you can talk to us about anything right. Steve and I love you. You’ve been here for us. Let us do the same.” 

“I would tell you… if I knew why I felt this way.” You confess. “If I had some inkling of what I needed to get out to feel better but I don’t.” 

Your voice wavers and it breaks Bucky's heart just a little. He wants to fix it. But he knows he can’t. All he can do is be there for you. “Well, I’m glad you trust me enough to help you.” He tilts your head back. Starting to wash your hair. “We’ll just take it one step at a time till we find ground again. Ok?

~~~~ 

Downstairs Steve fretted over the stove. Sweet potato pierogi and with onions and butter. It was easy, simple even. But it always made him feel better as a kid and the few times he had made it you liked it. He looked up as he heard feet pad down into the kitchen. Hair still damp, but clean. In fresh sweats and Bucky's shirt. 

“Ahh, there you are. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah… a little.” You admit, sitting on a stool across the island. 

Steve rounds the counter to kiss your forehead. “You look better.” He inhaled her skin, the longer scent of his soap and Bucky's touch still there, along with that sweet undertone that was all you. “Smell better too.” He teased. 

You breath out your nose with a half hearted huff. “Thanks.” 

“Always angel. Here. I made you some food. You don’t have to eat it all but at least a few bites would ease my mind. And then maybe we can go up to the room and get you some sun hmm? Would you be ok with that.” Steve slid the colorful pasta across the counter to you with a warm smile. Trying to coax you to follow his lead. 

“Yeah. Sounds good.” You eat mostly in silence. Steve and Bucky don’t push you to talk as you fill your stomach. You know they're worried. But even just these small gestures are helping you feel like maybe there is an end to this malaise. You see Steve smile and kiss Bucky softly in thanks as they wait for you to tell them you're ready. 

They spend the rest of the day trying to get you some sun. Fresh air and movement. 

“We’re gonna do this a little everyday till you start feeling better. And if you need it or feel up to it we can look into talking to a therapist too.” Steve assures. His hand firmly laced through your own. “You are not alone in this. We all feel this way sometimes. But I’m proud of you for trying love.”

A flicker of hope flies in your chest at his words. You aren’t alone, this isn’t forever. And your men are gonna love you through it till you can do it on you own.

[miyaz6ki]

hello reshi good weather today innit

first of all iwant to say that i LOVE YOUR WORKS i gobbled them all up its not funny 😂😂😂😂😂hheneelelpp…… the brainrot is real and its eating AWAY!!!!!!!!!

seconf of all i keep going back to your kinich breeding kink fic. which made me wonder liek what do u think about dad kinich ,??:?\ mmmaybbeee…. mayhaps…

FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS no pressure ^_^

also can i be 🦢 anon i think ill probably return

hallo 🦢 nonnie!!!1!1!1 and ty, I'm happy lots of ppl read n enjoy my stuff, feel free to send more ideas >_0

he'd honestly frfr be a super good dad. like as someone who's learned that life is precious, and he's happy to have made some with you.

but if you take it in the single parent kinich aspect instead—he's just such a good dad, and often leaves hi child with mualani IF he still decides on doing saurian hunter stuff. but for sure I feel he'd leave the night warden war stuff behind

he honestly felt...somewhat scared. he fact he might have been about to lose his chance to hold his little girl again :(

oh but real talk he'd let his kid get their own saurian. I feel like he'd get them a saurian that is anything but whatever ajaw is.

he loves to throw them up in the air like genuinely he loves it so much.

same with swinging them, probably makes a playground set for them from scratch because his kid asked

he watches cartoons w your guys' children and acts like it doesn't really hurt him when something crazy happens to the mc

like ex. trolls when poppy lost her color. he was just as heartbroken as your daughter.

lowkey gains a dad bod if you think about it >_0

he always does the "ask your mom/other das" when it comes to serious stuff or things he doesn't wanna answer

example: kid asks about where babies come from..? go ask your mother sweetheart.

he brings the kid on his adventures sometimes—sometimes—only because it's his gift to them. but he knows if it were any other occasion then the kid's birthday you would kill him 💞

whenever you both do corny couple stuff the kid is always gonna go "ewwww!!" and run away while laughing.

"well would you rather me and your daddy fight all the time?" you joke as you finish braiding the little splitting image of you both's hair. "nooo! never! but you guys are cheesy!"

ajaw will be teaching the kid swear words and then blame it on kinich

like randomly while you and kinich are discussing things about I don't know getting a yumkasaurus for your little girl—you hear the same little one shout the word 'fuck.'

"where on earth did you hear that word from young lady!" "from daddy." "KINIIIICH!!"

and ajaw giggles behind the curtain watching everything unfold and he's rubbing his hands together like "muehehhehe... ur done kinich!!!..." even when u meant ur scolding light hearted after finding out about uncle ajaw. and will scold ajaw later.

thanks for coming to my ted talk

[er-osion]

Cruel Summer

pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

summary: A fic based on the song Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift. Reader is a Crow and has unfortunately fallen for their boss in the summer heat spell.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none, fluff

you can see the full taylor swift song-fic masterlist here

⋄∘���⋅⋆≁≁⋆⋅∗∘⋄

You always seem to forget how unbearably hot Ketterdam can get in the summer, especially during a heat wave. Your skin is sweltering and sticking uncomfortably to your clothes. The summer sun is bright and accosting, hanging high above your head in the clear blue sky. You greatly missed the typical overcast weather and fog. The Crow Club was just a few blocks away, all you had to do was hold on until you got there, and then you could collapse at the bar and scarf down an icy drink. The mere idea of a cool beverage put a weary smile on your face and added a pep to your step.

The Club was rather full for a weekday afternoon. However, it made sense that people would be wanting to beat the heat here. Entertainment, food, drinks, and a relatively cool space, you didn’t blame the ‘pigeons’ one bit. Even though you knew he hated the heat, Kaz was always happy to see the boom in business during heat waves like this. You shook your head defiantly. This has been happening lately. Kaz, your boss, had been popping up in your head as of late, and at the most unnecessary times. Suddenly you’d become concerned with his likes, dislikes, moods, health, and so on and it was bugging you as all get-out.

It’s not that you didn’t like Kaz, quite the opposite, you liked and respected him a lot. He is, dare you say, a friend. But you didn’t think about your other friends as often as you did your cane-wielding boss, and that is the issue. You know he’s not a good guy. Though, how could anyone be a good person in this city? He’s bad. He’s honestly nearly a bad friend too. But this knowledge of the obvious has done nothing to discourage your traitorous brain from drawing up images of the man at times when you should certainly be focused on something else.

You arrived at the Club and saw Jesper sitting at the bar clearly waiting for a drink from the bartender. A half smile crept onto your face and you snuck up behind him.

“Hey, Jes.” You said calmly from your sudden place right beside him.

Jesper jumped, “Holy shit, you have got to stop doing that.” Your gunslinging best friend put his hand over his heart, taking deep breaths dramatically as he settled back into his seat.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” You shrugged, feigning innocence. “How’s it going today?”

“I think I might just melt.”

“You wouldn’t be the first.” You nodded your head in solemn agreement and ordered a drink. You took a moment to look around the club. You were searching for someone in particular but decided to pretend you were just surveying the floor. “Have you seen Brekker at all?” You questioned without even thinking and as the words left your mouth you wanted to smack yourself.

Jesper’s lips slipped into a teasing smirk as he lay his head in his hands. “I saw him earlier. He was watching the club for a bit and then went up to his office. Why? Is there some job you need to discuss with him? Or are you just looking for some unpleasant company?” Jesper’s tone was goading as he watched your face closely for a reaction.

Your brows furrowed in annoyance and you rolled your eyes. “I was only wondering because I’m not used to not hearing his nags. Usually he’d have griped about something one of us did or didn’t do right and I’m just now realizing how strange it is to not have heard that already.”

Jesper hummed, and you couldn’t tell if he was convinced or not. “Well if you’re looking to sour your already lovely mood, I’m sure you can find him in his office.��

You scoffed and motioned to the bartender for another drink, but not for you this time. “I think I’ve had my fill of Jesper Fahey for the day. I’ll go make sure the boss man hasn’t melted into a puddle with his layered wardrobe.” You got up from your stool and elected to ignore the teasing comment the gunslinger threw your way as you shuffled through the crowd and toward Kaz’s office.

You knocked on the wooden door and waited a few seconds before cracking the door slowly and entering. You were going to say something as you entered the room but the words died on your tongue when you caught sight of your boss.

Kaz was sitting at his large desk, a gift you and the other Crows had all pitched in to get him two years prior. His eyes were focused intently on the stack of papers in front of him, and you noticed how his styled hair threatened to fall apart and into his face. His jacket was hanging on the back of his leather chair. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned and the sleeves of the black shirt had been rolled up past his forearms. The sunlight was streaming in through the two windows in the room, illuminating all the dust floaties that typically annoy you but at the moment seemed magical. All in all, your brain short circuited.

You stood there for several seconds, unmoving, simply staring watching Kaz in all his glory.

“Did you need something?” Kaz’s gruff voice broke you out of your stupor.

“Just came to give you this, really.” You explained carefully, walking toward him slowly and setting his drink down on the edge of the wooden desk. Kaz eyed the drink suspiciously with a raised eyebrow. “It wouldn’t exactly be good for my paycheck if you died of heat stroke.” You supplemented.

“How heroic of you.” Kaz scoffed, unimpressed and put his attention back on the papers in front of him. You rolled your eyes and looked around the room.

You grabbed one of the chairs in front of your boss’s desk and dragged it quietly to the window. He hadn’t told you to get lost, and for some reason, there wasn’t anywhere you’d rather be than Kaz’s stuffy office, right now. You sat down and pulled a book from your bag. You took one last cautious glance at Brekker before settling down into your chair and picking up your book from where you’d left off.

You spent the next several hours like this. You wouldn’t have even noticed any time had passed were it not for the movement of your light source –the sun. Somehow, this moment felt so clandestine. There was something so unnervingly domestic in the hours you’d just spent together. So unnerving that it felt as if the whole thing was some deep secret the two of you must take to your graves in order to keep your peace. You gently closed your book, as it had become a strain on your eyes to read in the dim lighting. You looked up at Kaz and saw he was getting out of his chair. Brekker unrolled his sleeves and you found yourself missing the delicious sight of his veiny forearms. Control yourself, you begged internally. Kaz slid on his jacket and purposefully put all his papers away. Then he turned to you and gave you an expectant look that had your heart hammering in your chest.

“Time to go, then?” You asked rhetorically, getting up as well and re-shouldering your bag.

In truth, Kaz had originally planned on working in his office at the club for a few more hours. In fact, he had also been planning on doing another round of surveying the floor a couple of hours ago, but had not done so. At the time, he didn’t want to leave your company and now, didn’t want you hurting your eyes trying to keep him company. Kaz picked up the empty glass on his desk to drop off at the bar on your way out. It had been his favorite summer drink. When did you figure that out? Did you even know? Either way, Dirtyhands had enjoyed the beverage far more than he should have.

You and Kaz walked together down the cobblestone road from the Club to the Slat. A comfortable silence hung between the two of you. Night had fallen so the street lights provided the only cheap illumination of the uneven pathway ahead. The temperature was still hotter than you’d ever prefer, but there was a constant cool breeze that kept you from staggering under the hot heavy air. Kaz’s cane clicked rhythmically against the ground as the two of you meandered toward the Slat.

You risked a glance at the boy beside you and felt your breath catch. It wasn’t fair. How could someone look so pretty just existing? Everyone would surely laugh you out of Kerch if they heard you thought the infamous Dirtyhands was pretty. But it’s true, in the weirdest of ways, Kaz Brekker is very pretty.

“Is there something on my face?” Kaz probed suddenly.

“Huh?” You blinked in surprise at the unanticipated interruption of the fragile silence.

“I said; Is there something on my face? You’re staring.”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at getting caught ogling. “Yes, I was trying to figure out what it was. It’s right here.” You lied with confidence, pointing to a random spot along your chin to show where you’d found the invisible spot on his face.

Kaz’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion and offense, but brushed his chin anyway.

“There you go.” You reassured him with a lilt.

“That book you were reading earlier…” Kaz paused, for the first time in a long time seemingly unsure about his next words, “is it good?” His voice grew quieter at the end and your lips pulled into an excited grin.

You instantly began an enthusiastic ramble about your latest book. Describing in detail the plot and your favorite and least favorite characters with rapid hand motions. Kaz originally only watched you through short glances, but quickly he took to rapt attention. You had enthralled him. The Bastard of the Barrel gazed with uncharacteristic interest as you went off about the book, mentally taking notes about all the things you spoke about with increased passion. He decided right then and there that his first errand tomorrow would be to the bookstore. He was overcome with the unusual desire to engage you in an equally eager discussion about this book he’d previously never heard of.

Kaz drank in your form and felt his heart thundering in his chest. He was growing warmer, and he subconsciously knew the weather was not to blame. Against the dark backdrop of the night and draped in the honey-color lamp light Kaz Brekker was sure you were an angel. Rolling your eyes at the stupid decisions a character you were describing had made, Kaz felt his heart roll with you.

Kaz kept you engaged by asking further questions about the book, specific enough to tell you he’d been listening attentively. Your heart soared at this demonstration and your grin widened impossibly. Words could not describe the joy this boy was giving you in this moment.

And all of the sudden, like a rock slide, your minds hit both of you with possibly the scariest and worst realization.

I love you.

The words were heavy on your tongues, too heavy to convey. Those three life changing words were not uttered, but the mutual realization was rocking. And as if your minds were truly connected, the both of you immediately blamed the dreaded summer for this unexpected awareness of your own feelings. It was this cruel summer to blame, obviously. The characteristic heat and the light of summer that was so unusual for Ketterdam that it made it easier to romanticize things. It tricked you. Lightening the quintessential gloomy mood of the Barrel and erupting feelings not fit for the reality of this city.

But at the same time, maybe it wasn’t so bad. You were putting the pieces together and finally understood the real reason behind your recently pleasant mood. Falling in love with Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, may not be the smartest decision, but it was a decision that evoked the most wonderful feelings. Your skin was itching and butterflies danced in your stomach but you had no desire to get rid of them. You embraced them, because they were proof of your love for the young man beside you.

Kaz now understood why so many great novels were centered around love. Dirtyhands was slowly coming to the conclusion that his recent special interest in you was not without reason. And yes, it was terrifying. Yes, it was perturbing. But if this feeling is love –and he was unfortunately sure that’s what this is– then he can’t imagine trying to get rid of it. Kaz Brekker can no longer picture a life where he does not love you, and this picture is becoming less and less frightening by the minute.

You’re washed with elation when you notice the barest ghost of a smile gracing Kaz’s carved features. How can a man not be happy in your presence?

Summer can be awful. It can be uncomfortable. It can be agonizing. But it can also be a gift. Or rather, in the Barrel, it can come bearing gifts. Like the gift of loving someone who’s been by your side for many summers prior, and hopefully will be for many summers more.

[imnachocheese]

Izzy Hands Headcanons (x reader-ish?)

So this is basically an experiment for me cuz it’s the first time I’ve ever written anything here and I apologize for any grammatical mistakes in advance cuz English isn’t my first language!! Anyway my obsession with Izzy has gone a little out of ‘hands’ if you get what I mean so let’s get started I guess?

Warnings: some NSFW, minors DNI

Izzy is…repressed. Like, both emotionally and sexually cuz he’s never really had the chance to express his feelings to anyone cuz of Blackbeard and his job. And given how busy he is, he probably doesn’t really have the time for any sexual sort of activities so…y’know. So whenever he has any typa strong feelings he finds them hard to process, like falling in love with you. He probably struggled a bit but he still managed to confess to you like a normal person for some reason? And for the sexual part I feel like he gets hard like rlly easily? You’d get to see it cuz of the tight leather pants he wears and it’s hot af if you know what I mean.

He’s REALLY sweet when you’re his significant other/someone he truly cares about and loves dearly. He’s probably gonna take really good care of you and bring you food whenever you look kinda tired and he’s always looking out for you no matter what. Keeping you safe and by his side. Whenever he sees you hangry he doesn’t really talk but he tries his best by bringing you your comfort food and letting you rant to him about anything you want. He’ll be the one to cuddle you and wipe away the tears on your face whenever you’re feeling down and you can’t help but to smile at your adorable boyfriend. If you ask him to sing to you he’d sing beautifully or even serenade you to sleep if you want him to. He’d do anything for you, honestly.

He secretly likes training you in swordfighting and stuff cuz he’d get to teach you something new and be in close proximity and intimate with you. He tries his best to be a good teacher (and he is) and asks you if you can follow and takes good care of you during your duels, making sure you never get hurt. You never do because of how skilled he is. He’s the best swordsman in the Caribbean, after all. He’d praise you for your improvement even though he doesn’t really express his true feelings that often because he trusts and respects you a lot.

He gets jealous easily but doesn’t admit it. Whenever you and Stede or Ed get too close he behaves in a really weird way, like staring at you while you guys are talking and sulking a bit cuz he’s pretty insecure about himself. He’d be extra touchy when you guys are in private though, and you’d know something’s off because you usually initiate these actions of intimacy. Then you’ll do Stede’s ‘talk it through’ thing until he feels better and you’ll know about his jealousy because of this. He never blames you though, only blaming himself for not being good enough for you. He’s obviously the best man anyone could ask for though.

He actually sorta likes reading because that’s a way he can actually chill for a bit, without being grumpy about the crew. He wears reading glasses, probably silver ones and he reads to you if you want him to because his love language is probably acts of service. He’d actually enjoy this kind of domestic-ish life because he’d almost spent his entire lifetime at sea. Contrary to popular belief, he’d actually brew you tea instead of just coffee even though he prefers black coffee himself. Maybe he’d even buy some fine tea leaves for his favourite person.

He loves hugging and cuddling, especially during storms and cold weather. He loves being snuggled up against your warm body under the sheets. It almost feels like he’s back home. You remind him of home and he’d definitely want to start a family with you someday. He’d be shy and brush it off if you mentioned it though. He’d like it when you call him Daddy, honestly.

Yeah so I guess that’s it!! I hope you guys have enjoyed reading this and I’d appreciate constructive feedback as well! <3

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

GIGI!! Give us some domestic Miraak HCs. Weird Things That Weird Man Does Around The House.

Doggie for attention

OUGH HELLO, HELLO, MY FRIEND, AND PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR THE DELAY! I WAS SO HAPPY TO SEE YOUR ASK, BUT GAH, THE HORRORS—

Okay, alright. BEHOLD. Domesticated Miraak Made By Gigi™.

Miraak is fascinated by “mundane” items which he hoards compulsively. For example, spoons, buttons, scraps of fabric, and as a dragon through and through, anything shiny. He once built a tiny shrine out of empty glass jars, claiming they “radiate a strange essence”—it was just his dramatic way of describing their transparency.

His time in Apocrypha has left its mark. Miraak mutters to walls and furniture as if they’re sentient. “You’ve done well holding up the roof today,” he says to a wooden beam while he pats it with his hand thoughtfully. He might argue with the bookshelves, too, insisting they’re judging his choice of reading material.

Miraak has a compulsive need to organize everything into scrolls or piles of paper, even when it’s not practical. Grocery lists? Written on parchment with the most elegant quill he, of course, will craft, and sealed with wax. A love letter to Jia? Encrypted in Dragon Tongue and then stored in triplicate.

His morning routine involves chanting hymns like an Orthodox Priest, meditating, and “consulting the winds” (aka opening a window and divining how the weather’s going to be, blessed by Kyne as he is). If someone interrupts him, he declares the day ruined and probably sulks for hours.

If there are any creatures in the household, Miraak is convinced they hold ancient wisdom, and he’ll do whatever he can to take care of them. Milking Miss Hilda, Jia’s cow? Check. Shoeing Queen Alfsigr’s hooves, Jia’s horse? Check. Collecting the eggs from her chickens? Check. Feeding her swallows up on the roof and tending to their nests and their hatchlings? Check. Whistling in the wind and drawing Various Animals in Heljarchen Hall like he’s some sort of Gandalf Calling on Shadowfax? Check. I can just go on forever. He’s a huge, huge nature lover. 

He’ll never admit it, but Miraak finds cleaning meditative. There’s something satisfying about imposing order on chaos. However, his “cleaning” often involves rearranging things into strangely symmetrical patterns—lucky for him, Jia does this as well all the time, so I only pity Lydia and Gregor who have to endure their obsession somehow...🥲

My Miraak isn’t the best at cooking at first—BUT! He learns from the very best, Jia, and he’s eager and quick to learn. Eventually, he treats cooking like a battle. He wields kitchen tools like sacred artifacts and narrates his every move in a grandiose tone. “Worry not, soul of my soul,” he tells Jia. “The Dragonborn of your kitchen shall tame this unruly potato.” He’s surprisingly good at it, though his meals tend to involve unnecessarily elaborate plating.

bonus headcanon because this ask made me unhinged: Miraak, when he manages to sleep, sleeps Weirdly. Blame it on the Dragonborn-ism and the otherworldly essence of his dreams in general, but either way, the man simply sleeps upright sometimes, while other nights, he’ll attempt to “connect with the Gods” by lying flat on the ground outside Heljarchen Hall, arms crossed over his chest, staring at a skyful of stars. It freaks Jia out when she finds him like this, but then again... She might join him herself... Don't mind her if she does...🤔

[mothwingwritings]

Sanctuary

F!Reader X Kaoru Hanayama

Hello my little ghost, goblins, ghoulies, and all around babes! By some miracle I was actually able to churn out a lil Halloween fic feat. Vampire Hanayama for you guys to sink your teeth into ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) this hallow's eve. It was a lot of fun to write and I hope you all enjoy! Have a FANGtastic and funky Halloween tomorrow, my little morsels~!

(And yes, I realize I am posting two blood-centric fics in a row, I promise I don't have a thing for this heh heh heh)

WARNINGS!: Death, gore, blood, a horny and possessive vampire lord, an elderly couple having the worst day of their lives and terrible things happen to them, mentions of kidnapping and imprisonment/being held against your will.

There was a convenience store at the foot of the hill, the last stop right before you start heading into the mountains.

It didn’t have a name, the weather worn, paint chipped sign simply reading ‘GOODS AND SUPPLIES’. The building was so small it didn’t have a dedicated parking lot, and it had a touch of dilapidation that made the rare passerby wonder if it was even still in business.

But the old building’s lights always shined so bright through its foggy windows, drawing any would be customers to the warm luminosity. Though scant, the shelves were always stocked, and the older couple that had ran the place for the last 50 years always gave you a pleasant and warm greeting when you walked through its creaking door.

Though you were sure you must look like a strung out, malnourished, vagabond they never batted an eye at your appearance. They also never questioned why you came around on a somewhat consistent basis, even though all that surrounded you was endless forest and towering mountains, the nearest town miles and miles away. This shop survived solely by being the only accessible place for campers to grab necessities before starting their trek into true wilderness. Places like this didn’t have regulars, at least not until you started coming around.

Maybe they felt sorry for you, thinking you were some poor homeless girl that had holed up in the mountains somewhere just trying to get by. Each time you entered their establishment you wondered if they were concerned you may pilfer from their limited shelves. Not that you could blame them if they did, by all accounts you appeared sketchy. Donned in ratty hoodies, your shifty eyes and general downtrodden persona would have had anyone keeping an eye on you. However, your appearance never alarmed them. If anything they seemed genuinely pleased to see you, their eyes lighting up in recognition whenever they saw you meandering down their aisles.

If they were troubled by your presentation, ever sickened by the bruises that dotted your body or appalled by the shoddily hidden bite marks that trailed your neck, they never spoke of it. You wished you could tell them how thankful you were for that. The reminders on your body were bad enough to deal with on your own, someone else nit picking you about them would be too cruel of a reminder of just how futile your situation was.

This little Podunk store had become your lifeline, your only beacon of normalcy since Kaoru Hanayama had claimed you.  You couldn’t slip away to it often, having to rely on the security of the sun’s rays to protect you from the great vampire lord, but when you could escape his estate you always ended up finding your way here.  Often times you didn’t even have money, coming and going with no purchases made.  Yet still you were welcome here, and you readily sought solace within its fluorescently lit walls, a reminder to yourself that you weren’t the last human alive on this god forsaken planet. It had become your sanctuary.

… Up until today.

You knew something was off the moment you stepped through the front door. The lights were all on, the glow of the welcome sign beckoning you with a brightness that cut through the shade of the setting sun. When you pushed open the door the same familiar chime announced your arrival, and the same old TV in the corner was playing whatever sport happened to be in season (right now it was baseball, and judging by the cheering, a player had just done something good). As usual, the radio was playing outdated pop songs softly over the speaker system, a bit of static barely noticeable as it blended with the jaunty tune.

For the most part, the store looked as it normally did. There wasn’t anything alarming about the old metal shelves holding new merchandise, and the coolers filled with varying beverages lining the back wall all hummed along as they typically did. The aisles were tidy, the floors clean, the racks orderly.  If any other customer had stopped by to shop, they would be thoroughly convinced it was business as usual.

But you were the only regular they had, and you were savvier on how they ran their business. Someone was always at the counter, but today the position sat eerily vacant. Even when they had to step away for a moment, one of the two would call out a greeting as soon as you stepped through the door. Your arrival was always announced, but today no cheery voice welcomed you, there was no warm smile cast your way as you made your way inside.

The absence filled you with unease, a cold dread seeping into your bones.      

Tentatively, you stepped closer to the counter, part of you wanting to call out to see if you get a response. Maybe you had caught them unawares-you did show up at a much later time than you typically did. Perhaps at this time of the day they are busy in back taking inventory or getting ready to restock. Was it really so strange that a small store like this didn’t have staff front and center at all times? It was just the two of them, after all. You can’t expect them to be stationed front and center 24/7.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling nestled deep in your gut that something was very, very wrong. The closer you inched toward the checkout counter, the more unsettled you felt. After a few steps in, a foreign noise came to your ear, growing clearer with every step. At first it was barely audible, a small and drawn out wheezing that sounded in weird intervals. It came from around the corner, near the back where the store room was located. You wondered if maybe the heating system was about to bite it, or an old cooler may be on its last leg.

However, a dying refrigerator didn’t explain the sudden wet sputter that rang out from just beyond your view, followed by a low, agonized groan.

Instinct took over. Propelling your body into action as you leapt across the counter, your legs taking out various snacks and energy supplements as you vaulted yourself towards the backroom. What if the owners had fallen, or something fell on them and they were trapped? Concern surged through you for the elderly couple. Surely there was a good chance if an accident occurred they wouldn’t have the means to pull themselves out of it. If they were in a compromising situation, who knows how long they had been stuck like that, who knows what position they may be in.

Nothing could prepare you for the sight that assaulted you as you rounded the corner.

Red was the first thing your eyes caught. It covered the floor, splattered the walls, coating the world around you. Its source was the kindly old woman whose warm smile you were greatly missing just moments ago. Her gentle, pleasant face was void of happiness for the first time since you met her, instead twisted into a look of abject horror and excruciating pain. She had a pallor that damn near made her look like a corpse, and you supposed that wasn’t too surprising judging from the amount of blood that was gushing from her neck, trailing in angry streaks down her body as it dripped down to the floor, adding to the mass puddle of human gore where her husbands decimated corpse was discarded.

You stifled a gasp, your hands flying to your mouth to muffle any cries or vomit that threatened to spill. Your body shook violently, a mix of disgust, fear, and anguish urging you to flee the scene, leave and never come back. Abandon your sanctuary, save yourself. They were beyond saving. They were beyond hope.

But you remained frozen in place, incapacitated by not only the shock of the situation, but also by the presence of the man that perpetrated it.

The woman hung limply from his mouth, much like how a dog dangles a toy when it’s trying to coax you into playing. His jaw latched to her small throat in a death grip, white fangs peeking through his snarled lips as his eyes caught yours. The only thing supporting the woman’s body was his bite, the ferocity with which he clamped down, the bob of his Adams apple as he greedily gulped down her essence, was quickly and efficiently stealing her life away. With her final burst of strength, her glazed over eyes looked your way. She raised a shaky hand towards you, one final rasp sputtering from her torn throat. Was it a cry for help, or a plea for you to run? Maybe she was cursing you for leading her to this fate. Whatever it was you would never know, as one final bone shattering chomp broke the woman’s neck, effectively ending her life.

Hanayama looked so out of place here in your secret spot, standing center stage as if he belonged here and wasn’t a blight on the ounce of freedom you had left. The whole scene was so surreal you felt as if you were trapped in a nightmare, your mind struggled to accept the horrors laid out plainly before you.

His imposing form nearly took up the entire store room, his height making his head graze the ceiling. Looking akin to a caged bear he was panting, his eyes wild as he released his grip letting the woman’s body fall limply to the floor, joining her husband. He was high from his meal, though you couldn’t imagine it being much of a thrilling hunt. The excitement surely stemmed from you catching him in the act. If you knew Hanayama at all, you knew the look of sheer dread plastered across your face was sure to send excitement coursing through him.

He was dressed to the nines in his tailored designer suit, shiny Italian leather shoes clicking away on the scuffed tiles of the floor as he started to approach you, each step adding a splatter of blood to his previously immaculate ensemble. His feral look had waned as he approached, giving him a more composed air. You imagined this is how he must have looked when he entered the building, his stony face littered with scars, inhumanly red eyes boring holes at the cashier, a dramatic shadow cast across his face from his swanky brimmed hat. He would have definitely caught the older couple off guard with how out of place he looked. Such a strange gentleman wandering into their quaint shop must have entranced them. These good-natured and trusting hosts were probably intrigued with his outlandish presence, interested in his story and what brought him so deep into the woods.

They would have never guessed what he truly was until it was too late. You just hoped that it had been quick for the husband, and that the woman’s suffering was not lengthy.

“So this is where you have been slinking off to.” His voice was smooth as he languidly wiped the blood from his lips, smearing the brilliant red across the once pristine white sleeve of his suit. You shuddered as he addressed you, and he instantly picked up on the quiver, though it was only momentary. He knew you like the back of his hand, all your quirks and fears, it was foolish to think he wouldn’t be able to ascertain that you were sneaking off when he explicitly ordered you not to leave the mansion’s grounds.

“I try and avoid the elderly. Past a certain age and the blood loses much of its flavor and vitality.” His eyes bore into yours, a cold smile tugged at his lips, “But these two were surprisingly delectable, even past their prime. Maybe it was their fondness for you that made them so delicious?”

“I didn’t…” the words died in your throat, burning as you choked them out. You cast your gaze towards the dead couple, the shop keepers glazed over eyes soullessly staring at you. They were still wet with tears.

“You didn’t think,” Kaoru seethed, taking another step forward, crowding your personal space. The coppery smell of blood was radiating from him in such intense waves that you could taste the tang of it on your tongue.  “You made a decision, one that I warned you against time and time again, and now you must face the consequences of that decision.”

He grabbed your chin in a tight pinch, the blood on his hands still warm as it smudged your skin. Stepping aside slightly, his hand guided your head, forcing your attention back on the couple. His steady grip kept your head in place as he spoke in your ear.

“You caused this, (name). If you had listened to me and done as you were told, their untimely death would have been avoidable. You only have yourself to blame. May the weight of their deaths hinder you from making anymore foolish decisions in the future, little one.”

He sighed heavily, releasing your chin, “I took a huge gamble coming out here at this time of day. Even with the sun low in the sky it still poses a threat to my kind. I compromised my safety to bring you home.” His gaze softened, his hand relinquishing its hold on your chin in favor of dragging his cold knuckles softly against the back of your cheek.

“It’s good I came when I did. If I had taken even a moment longer, it was sure to cause issues. Before I entered the store I heard them discussing you, talking about their concern for you. It seems they misunderstood your living situation, seeing you as some form of victim, believing that you had some manner of backwater husband that was abusing you.”

He spat the words with disdain, casting a brief disgusted glance towards the corpses on the floor. “They were trying to formulate plans to ‘save’ you, even mentioning they wanted to bring the police into it. Ridiculous.”

A sob erupted past your lips at the revelation, tears blurring your vision as they began to torrent down your cheeks. Hanayama lowered his voice, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders as he pivoted your focus to him, holding you in place. “This is why you must stay inside, my love. They don’t understand us. Most humans have small, closed minds. They don’t have the capability to understand the nature of our love. They only seek to tear us apart, hell bent on placing an end to something beautiful.”

He scooped you up before your legs could give way, nestling you against his chest in a restraining hold. He pressed a rough kiss to the crown of your head as he stepped through the door, beginning the long trek back to the cold, dank halls of the mansion.

“It has been a trying day, and you need rest,” Darkness had overtaken the sky, the chill of the nights air stinging your wet cheeks. The brilliance of the full moon was your only guiding light as it shone down upon the two of you, making Hanayama’s pale flesh appear to glow.

“But the night is young, my love, and you have a lot of making up to do for the transgressions you have made against me this day,” There was a huskiness to his voice, the words were meant as a threat, but the underlying hint of lust made their true meaning crystal clear. “You are mine (Name), and I will enjoy taking my time engraving that reminder into your soul for as long as it takes, until you finally realize your place.”

[moonteaa]

your dad teba stuff has me frothing at the mouth like a squirrel that needs to be put down. You got any head cannons to share?

AGH!! Thank you!! Hehe 🤍🏹

AND OH BOY DO I EVER!! Let’s see..

1. Teba literally sees every single member as his own, but definitely imprinted immediately when it came to Zelda and Riju. Teba now has 2 teenage daughters and he loves them. They banter and tease each other and Teba sometimes has to deal with typical teenage girl angst and it’s both hilarious and endearing 😭

2. If someone made Zelda cry, well Teba is gonna take that PERSONALLY. You’ll be dead where you stand if a single tear falls from Zelda’s eyes.

3. Teba is FULL of puns and terrible dad jokes. And he’s very nonchalant about it too 😭 the others will absolutely eat it up LMFAO but Zelda will literally look at him like “WHY” (he loves to annoy her like that.)

4. Teba has this paternal instinct to wrap his wings or place his wings over the others when there’s danger. It does not matter if they can handle themselves, he’ll just shield them instinctively.

5. That goes for weathers too, if it’s raining or the sun is too hot, he’ll place his wing over any of the others as means to shield them.

6. If Kass is performing a song and each member is joining in on a dance, Zelda will constantly want him to join in. Though he refuses at first, Sidon will push him towards the others and practically force him to join with a wide smile on his face, much to Teba’s dismay HAHA but he’ll have fun and if it makes Zelda happy then he’ll accept.

7. When they’re all done traveling and camping out, Teba will either (not sleep at all) or wake up in the middle of the night to do a run down and check on everyone as they sleep just to make sure they’re doing okay and not in danger or having any nightmares.

8. If one of them has nightmares, Teba is immediately there for them and stays up with them until they fall back asleep.

9. He’s protective. Like FEROCIOUSLY PROTECTIVE. You touch a single hair on their head? You’re dead.

10. If someone even dares to try to be mean to Zelda, or blame her for the events of the calamity or Hylia forbid, CALL HER A FAILURE? Oooof..you will be taken care of before those words can even leave your MOUTH.

11. Teba nicknames Zelda Sparrow/Linnet. The first time he did, it made Zelda cry because it reminded her of Urbosa and her mom (little bird) ☹️ Teba didn’t even realize he had nicknamed her something so close to Zelda’s moms. He felt so bad about it and thought he had done something bad by calling her that, but Zelda reassures him that it just means a lot to her. 🥹😭 🤍

12. The reason Teba calls Zelda sparrow is because she small and it literally translates to “little bird” and as to why he calls her linnet, is because Zelda has a pretty singing voice like a linnet bird. (I headcanon that Zelda has a hidden talent for singing 🤍)

13. If Riju asks Teba to look after one of her sand seal plushies, yeah he’s guarding that plush with his LIFE.

14. Teba taught Zelda archery

15. Teba and Zelda often go on little trips together and when Zelda begins to happily chat and geek out about ancient history and sheikah tech or what not, Teba happily listens and indulges with her. He even actually enjoys learning about it and discovering things with her.

16. If Teba finds some ancient looking artifact he’ll immediately tell Zelda or give it to her because he knows how much she loves to study it.

17. He constantly makes sure they’re all appropriately dressed for the colder weathers

18. Can and WILL intervene on a creep that’s trying to hit on Zelda or Riju. He will go feral and probably shoot any creeps with a bundle of bomb arrows. LOL

19. Absolutely helps Link try to get with Zelda (but he still also feels a little protective? Like?? Duh, it’s link. Ofc they’re gonna be together but he’s a dad, he can’t help feeling a little protective of Zelda at times even if it’s Link HAHA)

20. Each of them have all accidentally called him dad and he just accepts it at this point.

21. Teba wants to throw hands (wings?) with King Rhoam.

23. despite how close they are, in the beginning Zelda actually had a hard time trying to get comfortable with Teba for a short time. Because her experience with her dad wasn’t BEST, it was absolutely bewildering to see Teba be such a supportive and good father figure to everyone, she’s not used to that. She would watch them all interacting and analyze it, trying to understand but couldn’t. Teba however, was always very good to her and they quickly got really close and bonded.

24. Teba shows parental affection by placing his forehead against the others

25. Tulin now has 5 older siblings 🤍

(I HAVE SO MANY MORE ID BE HAPPY TO SHARE MORE IF THATS WHAT YOU ALL WOULD LIKE LOL)

[fangirl-in-general]

Hey! I know it's been a HOT minute since I've uploaded but here we are with another update! (This one is a little shorter than the others)

Previous chapter

Master list

Warnings: Fem!Reader, mild depictions of violence, stalking???, slight language, slight gene x reader

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An mcd!Garroth x Reader series

Legendary Pt4

"So...Aph is building her own place now? How's that going? I'm sure Brendan is happy to have a break" You'd been trying to break the silence for the past hour, it was honestly getting sad. Garroth tensed slightly at the mention of the new 'stand-in Lord'. You'd been taking note of how often he did so over the hour that You'd been searching the woods together; It was happening so often that had Zenix been in your place he might have had to take his shoes off, Irene knows he can't count to twenty with them on. But you weren't annoyed...you weren't, totally. You had no reason to be.

"...Lady Aphmau has taken the task by storm. It's a modest little home. She's placed it atop the hill just beyond Bredan's place." He turned his back to you and began inspecting a tree.

"Ok, what's up?"

He turned to you again. "Pardon?"

A scoff barely left your mouth, as you took the opportunity to poke some bushes with your sword, surely that seemed casual and not like you were trying to hide...right?? "The whole, ye olde prince talk. I know it's your mysterious upbringing and all, but you don't use it with me unless you're nervous about something." You glanced over your shoulder, he could've been mistaken for a statue. "You like her, don't you?"

"...what? Ugh. Of course I like her, she's our friend"

"Hey, watch it. Your eyes are gonna fall out if you keep rolling them that hard. And you know that's not what I mean." You couldn't help softening your tone as you spoke to him. Maybe this was good! You've had overwhelming feelings for Garroth for as long as you could remember (literally), you know that. He was the only person who was consistently there to support you, though you couldn't blame anyone, it's hard the truly support someone they only saw for a few days out of every month. But Garroth was always there. He would write constantly while you were away, and he was always waiting right at the edge of town when you got back.

You could vividly remember the time you got held up by a rainstorm and didn't make it back when you said you would. Not only did Garroth continue to wait, getting soaked in the process, but he grew so worried that you'd catch a cold in such weather that he trudged through the woods for five hours looking for you himself. By the time you reunited it was because the rain had cleared, and you'd made it back only to find him missing from your usual meeting post, prompting you to pass Delphi off to Zenix so you could search for him. You found him miles into the woods, the clothes beneath his armor still dripping in rainwater. To this day no one has ever embraced you so tightly for so long. You could never forget the way he tore his glove off to check you for a fever, to no avail of course, his skin was ice against yours, and you'd never tell anyone, but you could've sworn you heard a strained sob tear through the old guard as he began to cradle you face in his exposed hands. He may have gotten himself sick, but from that moment on he always took his gloves off when you were alone.

But that didn't matter. Being close doesn't mean he has feelings for you, especially not when he'd been so clearly doting on, following, and obsessing over Aph. I mean, he froze and stammered every time someone mentioned her name for goodness' sake. What matters is that he's happy, and you'd be damned if he gave up his happiness just because the two of you had a bond.

"Tell her."

His head tilted slightly "Pardon?"

A smile carved itself onto your face as you spoke, "That you have feelings for her. Tell her. It'll be good for you I promise." You didn't normally have to remind yourself to breathe but in this moment, muscle memory was not your friend. "It'll be good to have someone else invading your free time instead of just me."

Garroth shifted back slightly at those words, the invisible hand crushing your heart practically begged for him to step forward and say no, that he only wanted you...but he didn't do that. Instead, he thought for a moment before uttering his response in the smallest voice you'd ever heard "..You think it'll be good for me?"

No. "Yes, I do"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It broke your heart a bit when he went back to the village. Yes, you'd told him to, told him to go plan something for her since you'd scoured every leaf in the surrounding woods already, that you'd be fine alone, you just wanted to walk around some more. But you didn't expect him to actually go, you took this opportune moment alone to sink down the base of a nearby tree and cry your eyes out; and here you are. Alone on the forest floor. The moon and trees as your only comfort, miles away from the village. At least no one could hear the painful sobs and pitiful sniffs from way out here.

A sharp crack ripped you out of your slump. Quickly drawing your sword and jumping to a standing position, you silently began to check your surroundings. Was it an animal? No, it couldn't be. There's nothing in these woods big enough to make that sound, it was deliberate. Whatever is hidden in the darkness wants you to find it.

"I know your there. Show yourself. Now." You were impressed with how steady you'd sounded.

"Someone's awfully demanding."

The voice came from above you, in the trees, but you couldn't see a thing. "I said show yourself!"

"Nah"

The voice was behind a tree now...was this person moving!? How were they this fast? "What do you mean 'Nah'? Get out here before I find you myself!"

A chuckle sounded that sent chills up your spine. "Do you threaten all your new friends with a sword?"

"Friend!?" Your grip tightened, "I don't know you!"

"Maybe you would if you weren't ready to kill me. Not that you could even if you tried, but it's nice to feel welcome." The tone was sickeningly sweet but arrogant and threatening all the same. Who was this person and what did they want...

The voice continued, closer now but remaining out of sight. "Sorry your friend is such a loser, I really thought he was going to stay there at the end. I mean come on; anyone could see how broken you felt." Was this disembodied voice mocking you?

"I am NOT broken."

"I said 'felt', I didn't say that you were. Is that really what you're choosing to focus on right now?" The humor was evident, and you were having none of it.

"You'd think I'd focus on someone's actions that are out of my control rather than an attack on my character?" You tilted your head, hoping to catch the slightest hint of where this person was.

"Ok. Ok whatever. Geez, I just assumed that you'd want to talk about it since you were so clearly upset he was going after another girl." The voice was behind you now. You whipped around to no avail. Trees, it was just trees. This was quickly becoming less horrifying and more annoying.

"Listen here! I don't know what you think-" The silence was deafening, realization hitting you like an arrow to the chest. "How...wait you were watching us?!"

"I've been in the area. That's all."

The nonchalant act was starting to piss you off more than before. This is getting way out of hand, and you don't have forever to just stand here and be toyed with. "Who are you, and what do you want. I need answers or else."

Silence. If this prick was seriously ignoring you right now- "My name is Gene."

Gene

Where had you heard that name before? "And what do you want?"

"I just want to talk."

What in the world is going on right now? Should you trust this thing? It may not even be human. Even if it is human, it could still be trying to hurt you. Yea, the human option definitely feels worse. But also... maybe it was just trying to talk. Maybe it was just as angry and alone as you were. Was it some monster? Maybe. But you haven't felt this empty and alone before, and who could understand that feeling better than a monster.

You slowly lowered your sword. "Fine. We'll talk. But if you refuse to come out, you're going to stay in one spot so I can know exactly where you are. I will be keeping my distance. If there is even the slightest hint that you're a threat I will gut you so fast you'll be dead before you can taste your own blood."

"Yes ma'am." The words that almost sounded more like a demented purr were enough to tell you two things. 1: whoever 'Gene' is he's now hiding behind the tree that's directly in front of you. 2: He was definitely toying with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you guys for reading and thank you so much for your patience with my insane lack of an updating schedule! I plan to upload more chapters this week, so fingers crossed!

Also, I plan to write a Blaze x reader one shot, and a Gene x reader one shot here pretty soon so lmk if you guys have any ideas for that! (No promises, but I always love healthy feedback!)

[theaquamarinearchives]

[ a day in the sun ― albedo & kafka ] "happy birthday, my love. may the sun shine in the sky only for you on this day - shall we take a walk?"cw. gn!reader, fluff, modern!au, established relationships, reader wears dresses, petnames (dear, baby), just some sickly sweet fluff overall, ooc kafka

aquamarine's findings. happy birthday to my dearest little dove, @heiayen !! i hope this day proves to be fruitful and kind to you. you deserve the world !! ♡

with the sun shining bright in a seemingly endless blue sky and spring in full bloom, ALBEDO had plenty of ideas for this special day - it was just his hardest decision deciding which one to go with or even more so, creating an itinerary just for you. unfortunately for him the moment klee had found it your birthday was approaching, she begged him to let her in on the plans. you truly are adored by that small girl.

your toes sink into fine grains of sand, warm beneath your steps with two blondes at your side. one is bouncing, her small hand grasping yours as she tries to tug you along the length of the beach. in her spare hand is a melting ice lolly you wish she would pay a few seconds more attention to now that it's starting to drip down her hand.

the other blond somehow can't contain the small smile on his face as he watches the pair of you, the way you're laughing and yet still sending worried glances at klee's ice lolly. he can imagine the sticky mess that she's going to create the moment she reaches for something - or someone - with that hand later.

"klee, give them a break or you'll hurt their arm," your lover tries to reason with the excited child who - at the prospect of hurting you - quickly lets go of your hand to run ahead, squealing as she kicks up sand, "are you okay, dear? she can be overwhelming."

"how often do you bring her to the beach? she acts like she's never seen it in her life." you find yourself musing as the young girl crouches down to inspect something. your curiosity peeks, wandering to crouch with her as you tilt your head. albedo watches the pair of you in intrigue, the way you are both tilting your heads like confused puppies.

albedo refrains from attempting to defend his little sister's overexcited actions and instead peers to see what has got the two of you in awe. a pile of neatly collected seashells in an array of shapes and colours, embedded into the sand. klee gasps, a chubby finger pointed at a particular pastel purple seashell and you also let out an excited noise - albeit a little quiet.

his blue eyes soften, that small smile from earlier widening on his face as mid-length blond locks tickle his eyelashes, the sea breeze drifting through them and creating an even more messy appearance. no matter how long he's been dating you, he can't seem to stop admiring you. his eyes dance over how the breeze carries your hair and the pretty summer dress you decided to wear for today, how your jewellery compliments every aspect of your outfit... how did he get so lucky?

he almost chuckles at his thoughts, his cheeks warming considerably and he wonders if he could blame the weather should klee's keen eyes notice. the artist is undeniably in love with you, after all you're the source material of a lot of his works now. he's familiar with your every crevice and detail, familiar with painting them delicately onto his canvas.

he wouldn't change that for the world when your sparkling eyes return to him, a happy smile on his face as you hold up a seashell to him, exclaiming excitedly as you fawn over something so simple and yet so treasurable.

━

you knew very well how your girlfriend's job worked and whilst you never interfered, you wished sometimes that she could spare you a glimpse of time outside of what her boss' 'scripts' leave you with. that's not to say she was a bad partner - oh no. regardless of that slightly insufferable teasing attitude she has, the one she always brings to the table in a light-hearted manner, you knew KAFKA loved you. perhaps more than she's willing to convey with words.

kafka follows her scripts intricately, never missing a detail right up until the last second. these control her days, creating schedules upon schedules she's never faltered to argue against nor break the habit. yet she fails to tell you that in the days leading up to your birthday, she'd been very much planning to do just that.

"you look beautiful," she chimes when you enter the lounge, pausing in your steps when your eyes meet hers. she quirks a brow, amused by the way your eyes widen in surprise, "what is it, baby?"

you squint, hesitant to approach your girlfriend - what did she have in mind? what was going on? usually at this hour, the shared house you live in together was filled with the melodic sounds of kafka's classical music and in turn, her own violin. slowly, your confusion regarding the silence of the house settles in as to why your girlfriend was here and not in her study.

"did you forget your own birthday?" kafka raises to her feet, shaking her head as a light laugh escapes her lips, "oh dear, we can't be having that - definitely not today."

the woman saunters closer to you, slim hands drifting over the curves of your body in that sundress as she smiles coyly, eyes glinting in the reflection of the sun through the open window. there was never any telling what your girlfriend had planned, with the woman being exceptional at keeping her schemes concealed and hidden safely in her mind. oh, how you'd pay to be inside her mind for a mere day.

"of course i didn't," you pout, awkwardly avoiding her gaze as she presses her forehead to yours. her hands settle on your hips, a hum coming from her chest as she examines your behaviour, "you're not-"

"in my study?" she cuts you off, finishing off your thoughts as your eyes snap up to meet hers again. they're glittering, filled with mirth and amusement as her fingers tap at your hips, shaking her head before she presses a soft kiss to your lips. it's demanding despite how soft it is, her grip on your waist tightening if only for a few seconds.

when you pull away for a moment of air, kafka hums yet again and straightens up, taking hold of your hand in her gloved one. the feel of leather sends a shiver down your spine, contrasting to the cared-for hands beneath them. the ones you knew were very much soft, gentle, smooth - and they knew your body equally as much, every inch and fibre of your being.

"the sun's out and i intend to spend this day in it - with you so come on. we're going on a walk and later you can choose dinner. today, elio's scripts are off the table."

the archives' notifications. @bisexuawolfsalt, @lovingluxury, @auroratumbles, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @soleillunne

@zamorazz, @zworllyx

© theaquamarinearchives 2024 ; reblogs appreciated. do not re-upload, translate, etc. my works on any platforms or feed any of my works to ai.

[friend-of-giants]

Sujamma Sundas

Thank you for the tag @theoneandonlysemla! Going to tag @sheirukitriesfandom @juniperberries-canisroot @umbracirrus @vervayyn @snowy-weather let me know if you want me to tag you!

Topic: This week, Sujamma wants to know about YOUR OC's special someone. What makes their relationship special? How did they meet? Were they enemies to lovers? Lovers to enemies? Lovers AND Enemies? Are they romantic or platonic? What's their favorite way to cuddle? Favorite date night? Anything and everything you can think of 💕

Alright, ramble time. As you might know, I pair Wren (my Dragonborn) with Teldryn Sero (who I hc as the Nerevarine), and I will get to their relationship soon. BUT prior to her meeting Teldryn, she was in a serious relationship with Faendal until his death, which happened near the end of the Main Quest... which I may never get around to writing, but it will be touched upon in my main fic which takes place after canon events.

I haven't put much thought into Wren and Faendal's dynamic, mostly because I have no plans to write their life together. But my headcanon is that, like Wren, he has a history as a bandit - namely the poacher camp north of Whiterun. The two of them worked together briefly, Faendal went off to make an honest living at the Riverwood mill, while Wren literally whored it up in Windhelm for a while, did some mercenary work, then found out she was Dragonborn. They met up again as she was on her way to see the Greybeards, he had just been dumped by Camilla for Sven, and they hit it off. I can't go into too much detail because it's spoilers, but he was her first love, and she blames herself for his death, which made it hard for her to open up again.

Roughly half a year after defeating Alduin, Wren traveled to Solstheim to confront Miraak. She got wasted at the Retching Netch, accidentally hired their resident mercenary, then woke up to discover she had an unwanted tagalong. She loathed Teldryn at first, since he underestimated her abilities and doubted her claims as Dragonborn. But later, when Teldryn discovered that she truly was who she claimed to be, he gained immense respect for her. Being an ex-hero himself, he realized how important she was, and vowed that he would remain with her as her bodyguard, basically. That platonic respect grew into friendship, loyalty, and eventually something more.

At the point I am currently at in my fic, they're on the cusp of admitting their feelings to one another. They're ALMOST there. Wren is extremely closed off due to what happened in her past, and to Faendal, but is slowly breaking free of her shell and allowing herself to care for Teldryn. And Tel... he's just disgustingly in love with her and is afraid to admit it. He sees a lot of himself in her, as a fellow hero, and wants her to learn to enjoy her life despite being chewed up and spat out by prophecy.

(The kicker is at this point, he hasn't admitted to her that he's the Nerevarine. To Wren, he's just a merc. She will find out soon enough.)

Cuddles, you ask? Well, they're both dirty old bastards, and many of their cuddle sessions lead to sex. But they can absolutely be soft with one another. Teldryn has Big Protector Mentality and likes to be the big spoon, or invites her to lay on top of him. Wren likes to rest her head against his chest and listen to him breathe, and will often fall asleep like that.

Wren owns Honeyside and she loves her salmon, so for dates, she often suggests fishing or simply hanging out on the lakeshore, swapping old fight stories, and of course, EATING. Wandering the Rift woods and sparring with each other are always fun, too.

[reintarou]

🌑 Routine {Kannonzaka Doppo x Reader}

── .✦ Kannonzaka Doppo x Reader

♡︎. Tags: fluffy, comfort, short and simple

♡︎. Word count: 378

♡︎. Other: You and Doppo live together. The relationship status between you two, however, is one that you can decide on by yourself :)

♡︎. AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60037816/chapters/153776572 (if you want to support me!) ──────────────────────────────────────

Doppo always comes back home from work really late. Working himself to the bone, he could find peace at his apartment, together with you.

When he’s outside by himself, his self-deprecating thoughts tend to overwrite his common sense. Doppo would always come up with ridiculous ways to ruin his mood, for example blaming the bad weather on himself. He can’t change the weather, but it doesn’t matter to him. He still thinks that way.

Whenever he came back from work, you were always waiting for him with a prepared warm meal and a cozy bed. You cleaned around the house often, even though Doppo clearly told you multiple times that it’s not necessary.

He told you “he can do it by himself”, but you know he can’t. You just want to make his life easier, and that’s the least you can do. Clean around the house, at least making the apartment neat. If your space is cluttered, your mind is too, as people say.

Sometimes Doppo would come back home utterly exhausted, barely making it through the entrance. You always told him you could pick him up from work, since it’s not a problem for you in the slightest, but he always refused your help. Or, he just never called you for that. You were considering just picking him up from work every day at this point.

Doppo also loved kisses. You promised him, you would always give him a kiss when he comes back from work. A kiss, and a hug maybe, if he doesn’t feel too fragile, like he’s about to turn into dust from a simple embrace.

It was just a simple routine, for both of you. You wished life would be easier on him, his manager kinder, and his boss more forgiving. You could see how hardworking Doppo was, and his efforts were rarely acknowledged. But it was good enough if you could at least make his day a little brighter with a simple gesture, a few comforting words, and a warm meal.

Both of you hoped that one day something would change. Maybe his work hours will get shorter, and maybe someone at his work will finally recognize his talent and dedication. But, until then, you two will stick to your daily routine.

[evolutionsvoid]

You ever hear those stories about people who "vanish without a trace?" All those spooky tales of someone getting so lost that they are never found again, or are taken by some otherworldly force? I am sure you have, because there are certainly a lot of them! Now I imagine this is the part where you expect me to say that this is a load of rot, that such tales are mere superstition and contortions of the truth! Well, in a way, yes folks don't exactly disappear into thin air, as something has to happen to them in one way or the other. Even if you were to actually dissolve into nothingness due to some crazy magic, there is still a tangible fate and a wizard to blame. But that is just me being pedantic, as what I was really aiming to say is that indeed people can and do vanish in the wilderness. Empty camps with no one around for miles, family saying they are going out for a hunt but then never returning. Usually one can find a carcass or enough evidence to conclude what happened that fateful day, but sometimes people do come up with absolutely nothing. And I will be honest and say that thought has entered my headcap a few times during my journeys, where I realize I am in a situation where if things went south no one would ever find me or my body. The famous Chlora Myron would very much disappear on some doomed expedition. Be it weather, beast or magic, stuff like that can happen. And the temperate rainforest is one of those places where people never come back and are never found. But as we have learned, there is something behind all this...

Like any ecosystem, you got your predators that roam about. Some of them have no interest in creatures our sized, while others are always up for the challenge. Ask any of the locals or consult any guide and they will tell you which ones to watch out for. This applies to herbivores too, those with short tempers and the strength to back it up. So the advice is to be alert around them and keep your distance. Do that and you should be fine. However, there are some beasts of the world that are not to be trifled with in the slightest. Ones that sit up so high on the food chain that nothing is a threat and everything is prey. In these cases, it isn't about staying a safe distance away or not acting like prey. It is more like, "pray you don't run into them at all." And the phantasmaw of the temperate rainforest is absolutely one of those creatures. They are a beast you never want to see, but unfortunately they are beast you probably won't see until it is too late.

The phantasmaw is a large gastropod that haunts these rainforests, standing as the apex predator of these lands. It is a massive beast to behold, a giant in the land of fog and fern. They possess eight elastic legs, two rows of wing-shaped cerata and that bulbous flexible head of theirs. They are a truly bizarre creature, but its funky looks are often overshadowed by the sheer size and threat they pose. But of course, something this big should be easy to see coming, giving prey plenty of time to run, right? Nope. Because phantasmaws rarely spend time on the ground, rather they climb through the trees with their long flexible legs. Now saying they are "tree climbers" gives you the impression of them scrambling up and down the trunks like a squirrel or monkey. No, with their size and stretchy limbs, they literally use the entire tree as a climbing point, as the rainforest is dense enough that they can grab hold of several trees at once and suspend themselves in the air. But they are huge! Surely such weight and size would make this impossible? Wrong again. Phantasmaws have no bones and a whole lot of air pockets in their bodies. They are surprisingly light for their size, and combined with their flexible bodies, they can move and contort in a way that makes their movements quiet and hidden. But of course, with something that big hanging overhead, any animal would still see it, right? Well, here comes the reason why folks warn about getting "eaten by the sky" round here.

The flesh of a phantasmaw is actually translucent, letting folk see right through their skin and into their organs. However, their internal anatomy is colored in a way that it sort of blends in with the moss and trees around it. That, and their skin actually possesses the ability to alter its color and transparency, allowing it to adapt to its surroundings to better match. With a mixture of these abilities combined with the mist that hangs in these forests, the phantasmaw has the terrifying power to practically become invisible. They hang up out of sight, cloaked in the mist and shifting their appearance so that prey that looks up would struggle to pick them out. When in hunting mode, they remain perfectly still, their large maw posed to strike any who walk beneath them. These jaws have no bones or teeth, expanding like two hoods to engulf prey whole. The structure of these allow them to contort or contract in any way they need, stretching and shrinking to match the morsel they about to swallow. When they strike, it comes from out of nowhere and there is little time to react. In one moment, everything is fine and normal, and in the next second the animal finds itself completely engulfed. Prey is taken into this expandable maw and pulled off the ground. Their lip tendrils weave together to lock their mouth shut while the whole structure contracts to tighten its grip. Since the phantasmaw lacks teeth, it typically has to deal with live food, thus its efforts to constrict and pin flailing limbs. Smaller prey can be crushed by its contracting muscles, but often it isn't enough to take out heftier beasts. But as long as food cannot do damage or escape, their state of being doesn't really matter.

With no jaws or teeth for chewing, prey is taken in whole. However, they won't be taken into a central stomach for digestion, as the phantasmaw instead has a different setup. Those large, broad cerata that lines its back are actually hooked up to its digestive system, acting like extra stomachs. Prey is instead shunted into one of these pouches, where they are stored and broken down into nutrients. Since the phantasmaw has many of these organs instead of one single gut, it means it can gorge on more food if it is available. If it is a time of plentiful prey, they can gobble down more than just one stomach would hold! And if they can stockpile on food like this, then that means it can survive during scarcer times.

However, if the phantasmaw is carrying around a dozen dinners in its dorsal guts, then that dramatically increases its weight. How is it to hang from the canopy now? Surely something that bloated and full would pull down the branches it clings to! That is a fair point, so much so that the phantasmaw actually has an answer for that! Another reason why it uses these cerata for digestion is because they allow the beast to "stash" away eaten prey! The cerata that can hold its food are actually capable of autotomy, where they can be severed from the main body. Structures at the base of each allows them to break free and seal the resulting wound tight on both ends! This lets the phantasmaw offload weight that would disturb its hunts, while also keeping consumed prey in a separate fleshy cocoon. Phantasmaws will construct nests high up in the trees where they may deposit these nutrient filled sacs, stashing them for later eating. That and when it is the breeding season, these food pods will be flushed with eggs before it is split off, thus giving the hatching young a nutritious stew to feed upon before and after they hatch! Kinda humiliating that victims can be eaten twice, as if the first experience wasn't bad enough.

One should clearly see why these creatures are the apex of the temperate rainforest, as few things can stand against them. Their maw can choke down practically any animal, and their size makes them intimidating to deal with. On top of that, their flesh is tough and easily heals, allowing them to shrug off a lot of damage. Plus, their meat is terrible to eat and thus nothing wants them on their menu if they even could take one down. Smaller ones tend to flush their bodies with digestive acid when threatened, causing nasty burns for those who try to consume them. So fighting is pretty much off the table, so best to run. Unfortunately, if you are a tempting enough target or the creature is hungry enough, the phantasmaw may decide to pursue. Honestly I can't even imagine the terror of sprinting through the forest while something massive and unseen claws after you from above. And while food runs, the phantasmaw will try to trip it up by unleashing blasts of air from its mouth. By inflating its body, it can force a brief gust of wind out of its maw that can stagger prey and cause them to stumble. And in this flight, tripping and falling is pretty much a death sentence.

For the locals and wildlife around here, phantasmaws are a creature you run and hide from. Don't bother to fight, just find something big and sturdy to hide under and hope it leaves you alone. Look for downed tree trunks, burrows or spaces under big rocks. Phantasmaws rarely touch ground, so their assault comes from above. If you can find something to shield you from this descending maw, then you should be safe. But remember to be patient and keep an eye on where the creature is at all times. Though it may relent in its attack, it may simply hide itself close by and wait for food to poke their head out from their safe haven. Movement is what they look for (meaning us meat-free dryads aren't safe), so stay still, low and quiet. Wait for as long as you can before emerging, and try to make sure the phantasmaw isn't luring you into a false sense of safety.

While the phantasmaw provides no meat or usable resources from its corpse, folk do seek to slay large specimens in fear of them eating people or depleting local wildlife. It is also advised that travelers through these rainforests keep blades stashed on all parts of their body, so that they may be reached if swallowed into a cerata. You don't know where your hands will be pinned, so best to have a couple options. This tactic takes a whole lot of luck and effort in order for you to theoretically cut yourself free of one, but it is better than nothing! Thankfully, I never found myself in this scenario, and have been lucky to avoid being hunted by a phantasmaw. I did hide under the roots of a stump in order to spot one as it moved through the trees, but then had the misery of realizing that when it set up its ambush site around me, it meant I couldn't leave. Yep. Guess who slept under a stump for two days?

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

--------------------------------

"Phantasmaw"

Should be no surprise that I came up with this fellow when actually visiting a temperate rainforest. Enjoying the scenery and going "I wonder what horrors could live here?" What about a giant sea slug?

[reds-fluff-extravaganza]

Albert Wesker x reader

Requested over on ao3! Reader is a secretary for the Raccoon City Police Department. Also no zombie/virus AU

Being a secretary of the Raccoon City Police Department wasn’t always that bad. Despite not being out in the field, you were actually quite respected by many of your coworkers, including Albert Wesker himself. You didn’t really see him too often, but you two were surprisingly close despite how cold and uncaring he usually is.

You were doing your usual thing, listening in to the radio that was sitting on your desk. You had it on low so it wouldn’t bother the others, but it was loud enough that you could hear it instead of the loud chatter of the others.

“Hey, Y/n, did you hear? There’s supposed to be a snow storm coming.” You heard a familiar voice, making you look up from your paperwork to find Leon leaning against your desk.

“Yeah, I heard it on the radio.” You lightly glanced at the small radio that was sitting on your desk. “Plus it was already snowing on my way here.”

“I really hope we don’t get snowed in here.”

“Yeah, me neither. I have things to do when I get out of here today.” You sighed a bit, taking a glance behind Leon to see a familiar sunglasses wearing face. Wesker. Leon must have noticed where your gaze had landed, as he turned around as well.

“Well… I’ll let you get back to work, Y/n.” He said before walking off, as if not wanting to get involved with Wesker, which you didn’t blame him one bit. You shook your head and went back to your paperwork… which didn’t last very long as you now had someone else in front of your desk.

“Wesker.” You didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

“Y/n.” You glanced up from what you were working on to face the taller male.

“Let me guess… now that you’re finished with whatever mission you’ve been sent on and waiting for your next one… you want to go get some drinks or something.” He chuckled a bit in response.

“I still haven’t figured out how someone like you would, cold, mysterious, uncaring, would want to spend time with someone like me.” He only shrugged in response.

“…to answer your question, yes, we can go out later.”

“Good.” You went to say something else, before the power went out. “Son of a..”

“Must be the snow storm that was mentioned earlier.” You barely heard him say. You stood up, taking a look around.

“We should take a look outside.” You went over to one of the windows, only to find you couldn’t see anything except for white, and you could hear the wind blowing.

“Damn…” you closed the blinds and went back to your desk. “I…think we may be snowed in.”

“You think?” You heard both Wesker and Leon say back to you.

“Well I didn’t think it would happen this soon!”

“Weather is unfortunately very unpredictable, Y/n.”

“Thanks for the lesson, Wesker.” You shook your head and sat back down at your desk. “I suppose the only thing we can really do is wait it out.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“At least we’re not stuck out there.” You pointed out, leaning back in your chair a bit.

“That is true.” You watched as Wesker pulled up one of the nearby chairs to sit across from you.

“Well, there goes the plan for drinks.”

“For now, anyway.” You chuckled a bit in response, watching as everyone else scrambled to make sure everything was closed off to prevent any further heat loss in the building. Fortunately for you, you weren’t completely bothered by the temperature. Plus, you had brought along a very warm jacket in case the cold weather had gotten worse.

“Well, since we’re going to be stuck in here for a while, I think it’s time you told me your little secret, Wesker.”

“That depends on which one, Y/n.”

“Oh you know exactly which one I’m talking about! You said you were going to tell me why you spend so much time with me after your missions.”

“Ah, that.” Wesker seemed to think about it for a moment, leaning back into the chair he had been sitting in.

“Yes, that. Come on, Wesker. I’ll get the answer out of you eventually.” He shook his head, chuckling in response.

“Fine, fine. You want to know why I spend so much time with you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, to put it simply…” It seemed as if he was taking a moment to think of what he wanted to say. “I like you, Y/n. Despite you being a plain secretary, you don’t let that bother you, you always work hard and you are not afraid to speak up or speak your mind. Hell, you��ve even stood up to me, and I like that about you. I think you’re quite interesting.” You had to take a moment to process his words, before your face lit up with a rather dark blush. He liked you? And the fact that he just said that so casually just caught you off guard even more. You were rather glad it was dark in the room which hid your blushing face from his view.

“I… like you too, Wesker. You may be a cold, uncaring jerk most of the time, but you’re calm, confident and intelligent. You caught my attention the first time we met, really. I was just afraid you were either taken, or just uninterested in anything romantic.”

“Well, I was feeling the latter until I met you, actually.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“Well, now we’re definitely going to have to go out for drinks after this.”

“Well, not just that, if you’re not against the idea.”

“Not at all.” You smiled faintly, not expecting this turn of events at all, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, quite the opposite. As everyone else was doing their own thing, you and Wesker just stayed at your desk, just talking away and discussing plans for when you got out of this situation.

[evita-shelby]

12 Days of Smuffmas

December 18th – board games and breath play(Jack Nelson x Eva)

cw: smut, breath play/erotic choking, chair sex, p in v sex, mentions of practicing kink safely, past misscarriage, witchcraft, past murder, past attempted sexual assault

inspired by a moodboard and blurb by @novashelby where Eva and Jack play chess

It was rather rare for her to be beaten at anything, her unnatural instincts were pretty unmatched leading to overconfidence.

“That’s ‘cause you don’t practice, doll.” Jack teases her as he gloats about him winning these past games.

So, he may have a point. He was the one playing with the kids more often than not especially while she recovered.

But Eva’s been feeling out of sorts for a while so losing her winning streak has her wondering what the fuck is wrong with her.

“I don’t need to; I have never lost a game because I know what moves and plays will happen before they do. This time, I just didn’t.” Eva relies on instinct to survive, to live, and not once has it failed her.

“You lost a game. It’s not the end of the world, babe.” Jack assures her still not getting why this has her so driven to try again and again until everything goes back to as it was.

“Today’s a game. Tomorrow might be something worse, like a change in the stock market or a step on the stairs.” That evening she fell was the first time since Gabriel’s death almost a decade ago that something managed to get past her.

Now even as her body healed and they seemed to have moved past it, it lingers there as a warning that next time it could be one of their living children, or Jack or anyone else she loves dearly.

“Fine, let’s finish this game, and after this we’ll go to bed.” He relents thinking of throwing the game to assure her a catastrophe isn’t waiting to happen. “The babies… it wasn’t your fault. Things like that happen to everyone, even almighty women like you.”

“I know.” Still, it’s after midnight, and she’s lost three games in a row with the last one confounding her so much she’s never played anything this long.

“Maybe you need to retrain your instincts, like how you had to learn to stop yourself from sleeping with a knife under your pillow because you kept trying to stab me in my sleep.” He plays sloppily to assuage her fears of losing her abilities, and while she finds it endearing, it does the opposite. “Remember the first time you discovered how hard it made me to have you on top of me with your pretty knife at my throat.”

He gets turned on by danger, fighting and fucking giving him the same thrill and sending all that blood south. Makes for good fucking, the witch has to admit.

It's why they will have so many children not counting the twin girls she lost a year ago.

“How could I? It snapped me out of the nightmare.” She takes his piece on the board and chuckles at how awkward that had been. It had been during their honeymoon when he took her to a beautiful Florida beach where people spoke Spanish freely, and no one had shitty opinions about a Mexican woman marrying a white American man.

The muggy weather, the smell of tropical flowers that reminded her of home and the feel of a man holding her had triggered a nightmare of the first of those few times someone tried to assault her in the war camp. Not all bought the bullshit story that if they assaulted her, she’d lose her abilities, most saw a virgin heiress ready for the taking.

Jack had been pinned under her with a knife to his throat and got aroused by his wife, proving to be more than capable of defending herself. He’d moaned a ‘fucking hell’ and blamed his morning wood somehow bringing her back to reality and leaving the dusty tent she’d driven a hunting knife through the eye of a rebel captain and relived in her nightmares.

Once she came to and he was able to subdue her, he’d then admitted ---with some embarrassment--- that he was into some of the more dangerous things in sex. He was into men as long as he was the one doing the penetrating, enjoyed being rough ,and having his partner be rough in return, and after he’d convinced her he had not been hurt nor found her insane ---he had his own demons to contend with after all--- they had fucked the nightmare out of her head.

“Maybe we should use our old remedy for nightmares.” The gangster suggests drinking his whiskey and playing dumb moves to get the game over faster. He had been so proud of himself when he won the first two games and now Jack wants to end the game, put away the board and fuck the bad feelings away. “You could choke me if you want, I know you want to.”

“Maybe I’d like for you to do that to me instead.” Her word has him stop on his tracks, look at her with concern, and then ask her to repeat herself ‘cause he’s not sure he heard her.

“Maybe I’d like for you to choke me…tonight.” Eva tries not to falter, but his own surprise at her request made her doubt he’d agree to it.

Eva was not into it; he was willing to never attempt it again after genuine terror replaced pleasure as his big hands wrapped around her neck. Despite his brash ways, Jack Nelson respected boundaries when it came to the people that mattered to him.

She stopped having nightmares of the men who attempted to rape her after years of sharing a bed with him. Perhaps the witch may be willing to try it again. If the witch is still not into it, he’ll stop and be sweet as sugar and so tender with her Eva will weep from how loved she feels as they fuck again.

Besides, maybe being slightly deprived of oxygen while fucking might fix whatever the fuck is wrong with her. Her abilities usually grew sharper after a near death experience or a really good orgasm.

Jack prided himself in fucking her so good it triggered visions of their glorious future.

And yet he’s stunned into silence, a miracle because the man does not shut up.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.” Her tall and burly gringo is careful with her as one of his arms snakes around her waist and keeps her steady on top of him while the other tangles itself into her dark hair. He loves her long locks, loves pulling it as much as he likes it when she plays pulls his.

Equals in everything, giving and taking in equal measure even when it comes to fucking. They have a word and even a gesture for when they take it too far, well not much of a gesture just three taps on whatever body part they can reach.

“I know.” To show how much she wanted this, she left the game as it was and straddled him on the chair. The witch grinded on him before finally taking him inside her as she drank his whiskey clumsily and fucked on the elegant chair that has seen more action in one night than it ever did in whatever robber baron’s mansion it was procured from.

Jack drinks the alcohol that spills from her lips and onto her chin, and her neck, captures her mouth while the hand in her hair inches downwards with hesitation. But eventually, it wraps itself around her neck when she begins to ride him harder and lose herself in the pleasure.

His grip tightens on her arteries enough to make her lightheaded as her orgasm builds and just as she’s about to come, Jack releases his hold on her and the rush of everything at once has the witch gasping too loudly in the empty living room.

Eva holds on to him for dear life, laughing breathlessly as they ride out their orgasm knowing their four children haven’t heard a damn thing upstairs.

“We should do that again.” The witch suggests once they can speak coherently again, her husband kissing her neck softly, murmuring sweet and filthy things to her like he does when they give into his rougher fantasies.

“Only if you stop asking for another rematch, doll.” He stays inside of her, several times he’s taken her upstairs still in her to continue their wild fucking in that room far from the family wing and ,spirits, she loves it when he does that.

“Deal, I don’t even care about chess anyways.” Says the witch who only discovered today she’s shit at it without her supernatural abilities.