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#the early leaf's a flower
coquettejohnny · 3 months
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photo of the sunset i took today ^_^
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geopsych · 1 year
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New leaves of a chestnut oak.
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flecks-of-stardust · 1 year
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[image description: two images of a Northern Mockingbird perched on some branches. It is a soft grey-brown, with darker feathered wings that have a white band in the middle. Its eyes are a brilliant gold. In the first image, it is looking off to the right, one eye staring at the camera, and is somewhat hunkered down. Its body is framed by a curving twig. In the second image, it is perched higher up, rump facing the camera as it looks to the sky. There is a big fluffy white cloud in the background. end image description]
birdy :D
#big long ramble about my day so far in the tags just cause i felt like sharing#i had a rheumatology appointment today but i was Way early#arrived when the doctors had broken for lunch. the receptionist told me there was a new nature path past the parking lot#and i was like hell why not. maybe i’ll find a cool bug#i did not find many bugs but hooo there were so many birds it was amazing#this fella was the highlight#i was trying to get a picture of it through a bush cause it looked cool#but then it flapped up In Front Of Me. like less than a meter away#and i just stared wide eyed at it for like three seconds#snapped a few pictures because it posed for me for a little#it also gave me a little gift :’) i didn’t catch the poop falling on camera lol#then it flitted off back the way it came#there was also a hummingbird (anna’s hummingbird i think)#and a few others i couldn’t identify. probably a few bushtits and i think two goldfinches at least#and also some really fucking loud geese(?) that i could not find#it was nice. talking a walk here and there is so nice#i did eventually find some bugs. there was a honeybee that was getting blown across the ground by the wind#literally tumbling all the way. i scooped it onto a leaf and put it somewhere a bit less windy#and there was another in a flower that seemed a bit stronger#also there were these little solitary bee home tubes!!! didn’t see any bees come out though#and there was a cat :D#hshshshshdh it’s been nice so far#my appointment went well too#mockingbird blessing :)#if i had a nickel for every time i happened to somehow be allowed within a meter of a bird to get a super clean picture of them#i would have two nickels#which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it’s happened twice /ref#the other instance was of hatchlings too :’D god they were so round and cute#i miss them i hope they had lots of babies
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teruriphoto · 6 months
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Simplicity #188: Japanese Silver Leaf
🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂
Japanese silver leaf smiles
In brilliant golden yellow
At the very center of Tokyo
With the music of birds singing 🎵
Flowers are another sun
Shining on the ground…
🪴🪴🪴🪴🪴
冬の花ツワブキ
東京タワーそばの
都心部でも自然は
微笑んでいた。
花は地上の太陽だ☀️
🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂
Go to → 
https://teruriphoto.tumblr.com
https://www.instagram.com/teruriphoto
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acernusarbor · 1 year
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❝Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.❞ — Emily Bronte
ACERNUSARBOR Kaedehara Kazuha of Genshin Impact Grown by Shroom ( 19, any pronouns )
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mykl · 1 year
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Springbeauty on the riverbank
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tenpolegardener · 11 months
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Summer in the garden
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golden--flowers · 1 year
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I'm going to be so prepared for this spring wildflower walk (it is still a month away)
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headspace-hotel · 2 years
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The natural world is more interconnected than you can possibly imagine and learning about it just gives you an endless cascade of realizations about symbiotic relationships that permeate every level of the ecosystem
I've been learning about fallen leaves. Many of you may know that fallen leaves are used by many moth and butterfly species to hibernate through the winter. This, my friends, is only the very beginning of the leaf layer's importance.
The layer of fallen leaves that covers the ground in winter has the following functions (and more):
Keeping the soil temperature more consistent
Insulating the earliest spring flowers to stop them from freezing
Protecting plants late in the year from being killed by early frosts
Sheltering 94% of moth species during their winter hibernation as well as many butterflies and other insects
Fertilizing and enriching the soil. The nutrients in fallen leaves are the main source of soil nutrients in habitats worldwide. Streams and rivers in forests carry the nutrients of leaves far and wide.
Providing habitat for predators like salamanders and spiders.
Suppressing weed growth.
Improving the germination of tree seeds (e.g. acorns)
Attracting beneficial microbes
Increasing the water holding capacity of the soil
Providing a food source for birds to feed their babies on in the spring (insects)
What's more, the fallen leaves of every species of tree have different properties that affect their effects on the ecosystem, including: size, shape, toughness, and speed of decomposition. The leaves of broadleaf deciduous trees are optimized to support and fertilize the deciduous forest environment.
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atlasnessie · 3 months
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DAYCARE PICK UP !! let’s go home, lovely
osamu & chuuya as daddies picking up their poor adorable baby girl up from daycare !! ( same names as the other fic guys mb lawll )
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early fall always made dazai’s heart turn in a different way. the ways the leaves on the trees change colors and die down for the new generation, it made his heart feel melancholic in the windy weather. however, the waves of unknown emotions had to subside. today, osamu dazai has taken on the task of picking up his daughter from daycare. you have entrusted him to be on time, no later than five for that was when all the other children would be leaving with their own parents and guardians and, oh dear, it would be terrible to leave your poor daughter all alone with no one to play with, wouldn’t it ?
as osamu stepped into the small daycare, he was relieved to see his daughter with a few other kids, playing with a small kitchen set and siring up a pot filled with fake carrots and lettuce leaves. he was always worried she would be outcasted like him. as one of the workers called akane over, she dropped all her things and smiled, rushing over to her father. the daycare workers grabbed for akanes bags and belongings, handing them over to osamu with a smile as the both of them left.
the walk to the house was filled with small chatter and dazai carrying akane by the shoulders, his big hands holding his daughters legs in a protective manner as akane messed with his chocolate hair.
“how was today, dear ?”
“was fun. we did finger painting !! look; it’s flowers, the sun, clouds, and this is mommy, and this is you !” as akane held a paper in front of dazai’s face, he stopped walking and stepped to the side of the sidewalk. despite the paper being far too close to his face, he could make out small blobs and streaks of hair that rested on (what seemed like) your head in the drawing. dazai wore a dolly smile on the drawing, the crescent shaky and uneven, but it gave himself flavor.
“oh, this is wonderful !! let’s go home and show mommy, yeah ? and then we can put it on the fridge together, how about it ?”
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chuuya told you there was no need for a daycare. he could just hire a nanny to look for chiyo for the day while the two of you were away or you could stay home with her, he makes more than enough money for the three of you. but you insisted, saying it would be good for your daughter to play with other kids rather than a nanny. and to chuuya, your words are almost law to him, he’ll follow it if it makes you happy.
which now leads to where chuuya is now. his chauffeur stops in front of the daycare as chuuya thanks him, telling him that he could park somewhere before opening the door and walking in. with his hands in his pockets, chuuya turned his head from wall to wall. papers filled with drawings filled the halls, along with small decorations such as paper chains made by the children and cut outs by the teachers and workers. it wasn’t a fancy place as chuuya wanted, it was rather normal, in fact. a plain exterior complemented with nicely decorated hallways.
as nakahara walked further in the daycare, he stopped at the familiar door and knocked gently with a gloved hand. the door was cut in two, the top half open while the bottom half was lock closed. chuuya liked this door, he could see his daughter without the anticipation of wondering where chiyo was and what she was doing. a worker walked over and smiled neatly at chuuya before calling for chiyo. the girl, dressed neatly and hair done to perfection, ran over to the door as chuuya waved. grabbing her things, chiyo waved goodbye to her friends before holding her fathers big hands in hers.
“‘ya had fun, pretty ?”
“mhm ! we painted and drew lots. we also made tomato-lettuce-apple-leaf soup outside in the playground !” chiyo hopped around as she stepped over the tile lines, jumping slightly higher with the help of chuuyas hands and arms lifting her up gently.
“oh yeah ? that sounds like real fun. hey, mommy’s making food back at home, hope you’re not too full from your … err — soup from earlier.”
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comicaurora · 7 months
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tldr I committed to a bit too hard
The slow-dawning sunlight dappled down through dense, rich foliage, scattering golden lace across mossy trunks and grassy hillocks. The light caught on the forest floor in a thousand glassy dewdrops and bent, fisheyed, in globed inversions of the canopy above.
No breeze stirred the forest so early in the morning, but a thin mist gathered in the valley under the warming air. Sunbeams lanced through the fog, pale in the dawn but soon to brighten and intensify. For now, the air was damp and cool and still, and the scent of the night lingered.
Pip bent a pawful of grass to the side and sniffed the air suspiciously.
It was too quiet, too still. And with no wind, she couldn't mark the position of the strange beasts and their odd, dusty, acrid scent that had no place in these woods. It hung low and directionless over the peaceful morning, distant but permeating, like a faraway fire.
She adjusted her backslung blade, wrapped her cloak closer around her and dropped onto all fours, nose pointed straight ahead and whiskers standing at attention. Her dusty green-gray wrap would shield her from all but the most attentive prying eyes, and - she quirked an ear, just to be sure of the silence - most of the forest was still asleep, unlikely to mark her passage.
She managed to stifle a flinch as a sound that wasn't a sound bypassed her ears and rang straight into her head.
Pip? Where'd you go?
She exhaled softly through her nose, the barest expression of frustration she allowed herself.
Scouting, Alder. Go back to sleep.
She set off before he could reply, scurrying silently along the mossy forest floor, tracing a sinuous route through the canopy's shadow to stay out of the slow-brightening sunbeams.
Scouting?!
The thought squeaked with disbelief. She didn't answer it.
Alder never had fewer than three thoughts at a time, and the more agitated he became, the harder they became to sort through. A jumble rang in her skull, a snatch of Eldest told us- and moves like thunder and have to hide, that last one echoing in six different ways with the significance it held in his mind. She concentrated on tracing her silent route, one shadow to the next, and came to a stop under a broad-leafed stalk as Alder's distress built to a crescendo.
If she kept moving, eventually she'd slip out of his range. Wasn't that a tempting thought.
I said go back to sleep, she sent, and with an afterthought of inexpert kindness, added I'm being careful. It'll be fine.
The chattering ground to a halt, and she felt the effort it took him to focus his thoughts down to a single thread. Come back, Pip. We have to stay hidden until they're all gone.
We can't hide if we don't know where they are.
Pip caught the beginning of his protest and shook herself violently, breaking off the connection. It was rude, she knew; closing her mind completely was one of her rarer talents, but unlike her other oddities, this one she wasn't particularly respected for. Her skills as a scout were admired precisely because she had such sharp senses, physical and mental both - some days she could even hear the slow, tangled thoughts of the Long Shadows - but when she didn't want to be disturbed, she could wall herself off from the others as thoroughly as if she'd been on the other side of the forest.
And right now, picking her way between treetrunks and sniffing her way towards the bizarre menagerie that had invaded her forest, the last thing she wanted was to be disturbed.
Her right forepaw sank in unexpectedly soft soil, and she recoiled with a stifled gasp. Her eyes darted across the swath of ground, analyzing its shape - and then she widened her scope, scanning the yards beyond that first strange softness. In a low-lying, hollowed track between two thick-rooted trees, the carpet of grass and flowers were flattened and crushed into a felted mat, mud bubbling through it in irregular patches like sickness in a wound. A wide track had been beaten into the soil by dozens - at least dozens, she amended - of flat-pawed creatures. Their dusty, acrid stink lay heavily over it.
She drew back from the unnaturally soft soil. Even with her diminutive size and weight, there was the risk of getting mired in unexpectedly watery ground, and while rescue was never far away in these woods, she certainly didn't want to weather Alder's overconcern or Eldest Luma's quietly smug passivity. Instead she skirted towards a point where the track narrowed, lashed her tail for a momentary burst in balance, then sprang over the mud and latched onto a tree root on the other side, freshly ripped free from the soil and scored with dozens of thin scars from the claws of the marching creatures. She scurried up and settled at the tree's base, where the gnarled roots tangled into a more-than-sturdy foothold overhanging the morass.
With the newfound advantage of height, she surveyed the terrain. The tracks overlapped one another in a mad scramble, pouring up from the lowland forest and curving up and away.
They moved with surprising organization for such motley creatures. She counted at least four very different sizes of print in the track, some barely longer than her own body (nose to the base of her tail) while some were large enough to crush her underfoot without even noticing.
The tracks were only a few hours old. The swarm must have passed in the early pre-dawn. She strained her memory to try and recall if she'd felt any tremors from down in the sleep-halls of the hollow, but if she were honest with herself, they were too far down and too well-insulated by the soft soil walls to have marked their passage.
She turned her attention to where the trail vanished from sight, curving over and up the slope. The land in that direction was treacherous and, to the mind of her people, best avoided. Gravel slips and rain rivulets ran down between the massive plates of rock that jutted out of the soil, and even though trees and flowers overgrew them, their roots could not be trusted to hold the ground together enough for safe passage of one of her size. Fresh rainfall unearthed and dislodged glassy chips of stone, and the soil turned to mud and slipped between the boulders, exposing treacherous chasms that could swallow an unwary traveler. The shattered earth built up and up until it abruptly skewed and slanted down in a gentle curve, like the ground had been struck with a terrible force and the shattering had rippled out from the center. And in the heart of that broken land, glimpsed fearfully from treetops or the shadow of the stones, lay the stronghold of the Long Shadows.
Once, long redmoons ago, Pip had traveled three days and nights to scale the shattered peaks herself, to see the stronghold with her own eyes (mostly due to a burst of rebellious curiosity after a scolding from Eldest Luma). The works of the Long Shadows could always be distinguished from natural formations or nests - they had a love of smooth things, and the stone they shaped stretched cleanly skyward and bore no footholds beyond the straight, geometric fissures that ran up and through them. So Pip already knew that the stronghold was encircled by a massive shadowcrafted cliff, pale and smooth as ice and taller than trees, and it surrounded the entire stronghold just behind the shattered peaks. Beyond the wall, great columns and cliffs jutted skyward, more smooth handicraft of the Long Shadows. At times they were even spotted outside the walls, tending great swaths of land in the same precise straight lines they shaped their stone. Those tracts bore vast quantities of food in unnatural abundance, some that grew nowhere else in the valley, but the Long Shadows guarded them closely and harshly punished intrusion, and the Eldest three generations before Luma had forbade anyone from entering (or even approaching) their strange geometric works, no matter how lean the winters became.
She debated following the trail. It would inexorably lead her towards the stronghold, but if the creatures were focused solely on the Long Shadows, that was valuable information to bring back to the hollow. No doubt Eldest Luma would be pleased to have yet another reason to avoid the Long Shadows and their works.
A sudden awareness prickled in the small of Pip's back, shivering up into her ears and all the way down to the tip of her tail. Her gray fur bristled and she froze, eyes darting wildly, seeking the source. The feeling had no obvious impetus, but she trusted her tail with her life, and something was happening. Something sourceless, something…
At the base of the root she was balanced on, a sprout punctured the trodden soil and curled upwards, splitting into pairs of pale green leaves. She watched as it climbed to twice her height in less than three beats of her racing heart.
Instinct took over. She scampered up the tree like a shot, finding footholds in the bark with a practiced ease that belied her jolting terror. She plunged into the safety of the leafshadow and clung to a branch, breathing fast and shallow and trying very hard to stay quiet.
Below her, a green carpet spread across the mire as grass and flowers bloomed impossibly fast.
The Weeping Shadow was approaching.
Pip strained her ears and caught the hint of a whisper of movement through the grass, distant and soft but certainly coming closer. It was pointless to cast her eyes towards the darkness - The Weeping Shadow was, in the stories, always swathed in gray, near invisible in the shadow of the canopy, and it passed in many tales without a trace, save for its flowering footsteps as its passage drove the forest to frenzy.
But it never came so close to the stronghold. The Weeping Shadow's domain was the deep and tangled woods, much further into the valley than even the hollow. It haunted the river and the wild places, and its realm was thick with plants of impossible vitality and sweetness - but not even the bravest scout dared its domain, even when hunger was rampant. The fruits of the Weeping Shadow's realm were steeped in an absolute sorrow whose depth defied comprehension, and the slow pulse of its thoughts churned in dark and wrenching misery that could be heard across half the valley. It was too much for the mind to take for long, and scouts that had strayed into its influence took moons to recover from the borrowed grief.
That had been the prickling on Pip's neck. The slow approach of the Weeping Shadow was already casting a pallor on her mind - and it was getting closer.
Pip's thoughts scrambled for her next move. If she stayed hidden, the Weeping Shadow would pass nearer to her than anyone had ever dared. She flattened her ears against her head and focused on the walls around her mind. Could she close herself to it strongly enough to hold out?
A wild fear beat against her ribs. She wanted to stay clinging to this branch forever, but she also wanted to bolt, to sprint the length of the branch and fling herself into open space, trusting the soft soil to cushion her fall - or rather, if she were honest with herself in that moment, heedless of what the fall might do to her. The desperate urge to flee was strong in her people, and here, faced with a terror closer than ever before, it was nigh overwhelming.
But Pip had a third instinct that overruled all others when she allowed it, and it had been slowly growing in her mind ever since she'd slipped from the hollow before the dawn. It was a hunger, of a sort, and one that warred always with fear. The hunger was curiosity, a thrumming urge for exploration and understanding that spurred her on through peril and dark for the promise of clarity on the other side.
The beasts in her forest were descending on the stronghold, and their passage had stirred the Weeping Shadow from its domain. Something was happening - something vast, something perhaps unknowable. But it would certainly stay unknowable if she didn't even try to know it.
And perhaps the Weeping Shadow knew.
Pip had more control than most over the openness of her mind. It alarmed her peers, sometimes, that she could pass among them in silence, unreceptive to their soundless speech. It unnerved them more, for those who knew - from a time when she was more open with her secrets and her strangeness - that she could at times hear the deep thoughts of the Long Shadows, and stranger still, sometimes even catch a shred of their meaning. The idea that the minds of the Long Shadows could in any way compare to the bright, clear thoughts of her people was on the surface laughable, and just under that surface, frightening. Still, she knew it was true. Their minds were dark, slow places, but they contained meaning and knowledge, most beyond the reckoning of her kind.
The mind of the Weeping Shadow was an abyss of grief and sorrow, but if she could attune her senses to it - if she could withstand its pressure - she could, perhaps, glean its purpose in the shattered peaks, and what it knew of the creatures that she pursued.
The underbrush cracked. Pip flattened herself against the branch and peered intently at the sound as the rolling wave of green spread under the tree, blanketing in every direction.
A shape moved in the shadow of the trees, ponderous and slow.
Pip felt her eyes grow hot and stinging, the space behind them heavy with unshed tears. A borrowed bottomless grief encroached on the walls of her mind, lapping at it like a swelling river threatening its banks.
The Weeping Shadow broke from the treeline and stepped forward.
It towered, even from Pip's high vantage point. It was gray and still and almost shapeless in the dim of the canopy, but twin lights glimmered near its summit, pale green like the sprouts boiling at its feet.
Pip's head pounded. The pressure of its presence was terrible. It was vast, yes, but the power of the sorrow within it seemed vaster still - like all the forest around it was desperate to weep, and the Shadow was the only part of it that could, yet it refused to.
The Shadow tilted its head down, and the lights of its eyes vanished in the gloom. But it was not weeping, Pip knew. It was… looking.
Looking at the tracks under its carpet of grass.
Pip gritted her teeth, gripped the branch, and opened her mind.
It was gentler than she had anticipated. The pressure and power was indescribable, but once she stopped trying to push it back, she found it moved her rather like water would - with force, but without pain. It was almost easy to let the thoughts of this vast creature buffet her where they would.
The words in the Weeping Shadow's mind were unknown to her, but she felt a snatch of them repeating over and over again. The words mattered less than the feeling that drove them, and as she focused, she realized that the Weeping Shadow was, in some way, at war with itself; the thoughts were not all in agreement. The repetition smelled of deep, old terror, but its loop was broken over and over again by a different, newer thought - one that Pip herself was intimately familiar with, strong enough that she needed no translation to parse it:
But I can help.
Dimly, in her faraway body, she felt tears pouring from her, hot and desperate from a grief she couldn't fathom. Her claws gripped the bark of the branch. The Weeping Shadow's thoughts, at the moment, were focused on its inner war, but it did nothing to shield Pip from the substrate of its misery. Still, she was onto something. If she could just push through, she might learn what the Weeping Shadow understood of the intruders to their forest.
Pip dug deeper. The Weeping Shadow knew what these creatures were - knew what they intended - believed it could help in some way - but what did it know of them?
Running below the looping dread and the punctuating bursts of hope, Pip glimpsed a glimmering ribbon of understanding wending its way just below the Weeping Shadow's conscious thought. It snaked under the fear, coiled around the thought of help. This had to be the knowledge that had motivated the Weeping Shadow's unheard-of migration. This was the mystery of the creatures answered.
This, perhaps, was Pip's only mistake. As she caught the thread of that understanding, it abruptly yanked against the current and plunged her down, down, down into the icy depth of the Weeping Shadow's truest misery. Its knowledge of these creatures came from the same bone-deep wellspring as the torrent of tears, and Pip screamed aloud as it battered her mind full-force. Alien thoughts crashed against her, unbearably loud; the grinding of bone, the shifting of stone, the pounding of waves greater than any river, the splintering of mighty trees. A twisting, a breaking - a power like a maddened, wild animal, thrashing and uncontrollable, kept in check only by its own terrible exhaustion and grief. She was so, so small, and somehow in the depths of this vastness she was even further diminished, crushed to a single point of light-
And something was watching her.
With a last mighty burst of willpower she released the thought-thread, flung herself away, and tumbled off the branch. It was something of a mercy that she was too stunned to feel the impact, and the carpet of seedlings cushioned her fall.
The first thing she became aware of was her breathing, high and fast and shallow in time with her racing heartbeat, real panic and borrowed sorrow draining away with shocking rapidity. Second, she felt the pain; her head pounding with spent exhaustion, her paws cramped in every joint, her back and shoulders bruised from where the impact of the fall had driven her scabbarded blade against her spine.
The third thing she became aware of was the shadow stretching towards her, claws stretched as long as her whole body, the deep purple of the skies after dusk.
The Weeping Shadow loomed over her, vaster than mountains. Two points of green pierced out from the dark.
She ran.
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yandere-daydreams · 9 months
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Title: The Housepet.
Continuation of The Houseguest.
Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.
Pairing: Yandere!Kaveh x Reader x Yandere!Alhaitham (Genshin).
Word Count: 2.0k.
TW: Implied/Referenced Non-Con, Prolonged Imprisonment, Mind Break, Physical Abuse, Dehumization, Obsessive Behavior, and Delusional Thoughts.
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You’d been shaking for the past two hours.
Violently enough for the tremor to be visible in your shoulders, in the jerkiness of your rare movements, but not so aggressively as to disrupt the path of the tears Kaveh would occasionally catch running down your cheeks. It’d started halfway through your tryst, while his head was still buried between the thighs he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for weeks, and the warm bath he’d run hadn’t comforted you the way he’d hoped it would. He thought that getting you out of Alhaitham’s clothes, Alhaitham’s colors might help, but even dressed in one of his shirts, your hair pulled out of your face by one of his jewel-studded clips, you shook like a leaf caught in the morning gale. When he tried taking your collar away, hoping that it’s absence would let you (however momentarily) forget Alhaitham, you broke your silence to beg him not to, and his bleeding heart won over his better judgement. You got to keep your collar, even if the sight of it around your throat sent a bolt of discomfort straight to the pit of his stomach.
Currently, he had you on his bed, curled up in a nest of his sheets and wrapped in his arms as he tried to tempt your permanently downcast gaze back onto him. It hurt him to see you in such obvious distress, as little as you seemed to care what he thought. He could only imagine what you were like when Alhaitham had his way with you, that brute. At least Kaveh had made an effort to be gentle with you. He was sure that, behind closed doors, Alhaitham wouldn’t so much as—
Speak of the archons and they will appear. As he rubbed shallow circles into your bruised hip, Kaveh heard the door to Alhaitham’s flat creak open, a series of familiar footsteps following shortly after. There was no pretense of a search – Kaveh could’ve counted the seconds it took Alhaitham to arrive at his door, to let himself into Kaveh’s room with the same irritatingly neutral, ‘I already know this will be a waste of my time’ expression he always seemed to wear. He didn’t even attempt to knock, but Kaveh supposed that was just karma. He supposed he wouldn’t be in this mess at all if he just tread a little more carefully around Alhaitham, around you.
Despite his brazenness, Alhaitham chose to linger in the doorway, his gaze flickering from Kaveh to you to the love bites littered down the length of your neck. Kaveh was the one to break the silence, eventually. “You’re supposed to be working.”
“And you’re supposed to be paying rent.” Then, resting his shoulder against the doorframe, “I left early. I wanted to see how you two were faring.”
Kaveh scoffed. “Don’t pretend you’re clairvoyant.” Alhaitham paid him a look, and he threw his head to the side, pulling you closer. “I’m only trying to some love to someone you’ve been neglecting for months. The poor thing’s so traumatized by your company, a little affection’s rendered them nearly catatonic.”
Alhaitham let out a dry laugh, his expression remaining completely unchanged. “That is not what they look like when they’re catatonic.”
Kaveh moved to spit out something accusatory and defensive, but Alhaitham only held up a hand. When Kaveh begrudgingly went quiet, Alhaitham took a step closer, positioning himself at the foot of Kaveh’s bed. He clicked his tongue and, with only the slightest amount of hesitation, you broke away from Kaveh and crawled to your keeper, head bowed and hands pawed. You came to kneel in front of him, your gaze never rising higher than Kaveh’s sheets. “I’m sorry, I tried to…” You trailed off, clenched your eyes shut. A flower, so meek and so delicate, it couldn’t help but close its petals for fear of being burnt by the sun. “I’m sorry.”
Alhaitham took on a look of pleased exasperation. “That won’t be necessary. You remember what I told you before I left, right?”
You nodded. “That it wouldn’t be my fault.”
“Close, but not quite.” He smiled, resting his hand on top of your head. You melted into his palm, although the sigh that slipped past your lips betrayed more relief than solace. “I said he wouldn’t be able to control himself. That’s the thing about Kaveh – no matter what I put in front of him, he’d be able to justify taking it for himself.”
Again, Kaveh tried to protest, to reiterate that he hadn’t ‘taken’ anything, but Alhaitham already going on, his hand drifting to your cheek, then your chin, tilting your head back to better take in the hickey bruised into the corner of your jaw, the evidence of Kaveh’s teeth still embedded in your shoulder. “You should’ve seen what I had to deal with a few months ago. Fighting, scratching, and such a mouth – I’m glad we found a better use for it.” A pause, a glance toward Kaveh. “I’m sure even you can admit that this is an improvement. A little training goes a far way, when you’ve got the right handler.”
He felt something sharp and heavy fall into the pit of his stomach. “It sounds like you’re talking about an animal.”
Kaveh didn’t want to be strict with you. He didn’t want to be like Alhaitham; endlessly cruel, endlessly demanding, a void where all emotions more sentimental than lukewarm indifference were eradicated with the utmost efficiency. He wanted to be soft with you, a reprieve you could run to when Alhaitham proved unyielding. He wanted to love you, if only because of how much it hurt him to see Alhaitham failing to do the same.
“It’s not completely different. Give a subject the right incentive, and it doesn’t matter whether you’re trying to tame a student or a sumpter beast. This subject just happens to do well with direct instruction. I found that out early on, after a softer approach proved ineffective.” He snapped his fingers, and as if guided by a string, you straightened your back, your formerly divided attention now focused solely on Alhaitham. “I could teach you a few of their commands, if you think you could be strict enough not to undo all of my hard work.”
But, seeing you kneel in front of Alhaitham, staring up at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky – he couldn’t help but feel his heart ache at the memory of the state you’d been in only a few minutes ago, of the trembling doll who needed to be posed by hand. At least, under the weight of Alhaitham’s commands, you were more of a house pet than a toy, more of a flower than a block of crumbling stone.
The thought alone should’ve made him feel sick.
Should’ve.
He straightened, swung his legs over the side of his mattress. He looked at you as he spoke, only letting Alhaitham take up a fraction of his peripheral. “What do you mean by ‘commands’?”
Kaveh wasn’t looking at him, but he didn’t have to be.
He could hear Alhaitham’s grin in his voice. “Come here.”
He took long seconds to push himself onto his feet, to find his way to Alhaitham’s side. With a soft hum, Alhaitham stepped back and brought a hand to Kaveh’s waist, another to his shoulder, drawing him forward until he was standing in front of you. He could see something spark in your eyes – not quite distress, but confusion. There’d been a change in the routine that you and Alhaitham had perfected, and you clearly weren’t sure how to react. To his credit, he wasn’t either.
“You already saw how to get their attention,” Alhaitham started, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Names haven’t had much affect since our time with the cellar, but most verbal commands are fairly straightforward. Kneel, sit, and stand all do exactly what you’d assume, and while they usually ask for approval to speak, they’re good at responding to direct questions. Aren’t you, love?”
Kaveh watched you perk up, looking towards Alhaitham for approval. He offered a curt nod, and with a few seconds of deliberation, you managed a small “…I am.”
“See? There’s still a brain in there after all.” Alhaitham flashed that awful smile toward Kaveh. Kaveh didn’t return the gesture. “We’re making progress, but due to prior incidents—” Alhaitham’s tone didn’t change, but you flinched. “—our outdoor privileges are still restricted. Kitchen access is limited, too, until someone proves that they know how to handle knives responsibly.”
You bowed your head, a scolded dog who knew better than to pretend it hadn’t learned its lesson. Kaveh interjected before Alhaitham could forget the point of his lecture. “That’s not what I care about.”
He could practically taste the smugness radiating off of Alhaitham. “And what do you care about, Kaveh?”
“I can’t believe you’d hold this over my—”
“Answer the question,” Alhaitham cut in. “If you want to use something that belongs to me, you’re going to have to tell me what you plan to do with it.”
It felt like something was attempting to crawl up his throat, one spiny leg at a time. It felt like his chest was about to split open. “I want to be…”
His eyes met yours. For a moment, he thought he saw something other than the dull acknowledgment of an unpleasant reality, other than the fear of punishment and the anticipation of reward. Something more visceral, more conscious than what could be ingrained into you by someone else’s hands.
“I’d like to be loving with them.” He saw it for a moment and then, that visceral something fell apart and disappeared. “I’d like for them to love me. Or, to act like they do, at least.”
Alhaitham let out a breath of a laugh. It sounded like nails against porcelain. You seemed to think so too. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Your voice sounded so painstakingly delicate. If he had a little less self-control, he might’ve taken you in his arms and whisked you away, taken you somewhere Alhaitham couldn’t follow. If he was a little less selfish, he would’ve. “It wasn’t.”
If Alhaitham heard you speak out of turn, he was willing to overlook the infraction. “Use the collar. Just make sure not to pull too hard – you won’t like what that means.”
It was Kaveh’s turn to shake, now. He tried to keep his hands steady, to touch you as carefully as he had when you were alone together, but his limbs felt disconnected from his body, his mind buzzing numbly with a static haze. The material was softer than he thought it would – not quite the silk he’d taken it for, but rather, a fine velvet, soft to the touch and bound by a small, metallic ring that rested over your throat. Two fingers slipped under the thin fabric, and as if you’d only just noticed what was happening, you looked toward Alhaitham, your lips parting and—
There was a blur of movement in the corner of his eye, a resounding crack that seemed to ring in Kaveh’s ears for seconds. It took him a moment to piece together what had happened, to associate your reddened cheek with Alhaitham’s raised hand, and another to realize Alhaitham was talking, to hear something other than the sound of his own heart racing in his chest. “Do not question the orders you’re given,” he said, his tone flat, unaffected. “If you act out again, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”
There was no hesitation, no trepidation. Just a deep breath, a new slackness to your posture, and a smile terrible enough to match Alhaitham’s own. “I do. Thank you for correcting me.”
Kaveh couldn’t take it. He didn’t think, didn’t wait, didn’t give himself time to think better of being so rough with you – just took your collar in his fist and dragged you upward, forcing his mouth against yours. It was messy, clumsy, near violent. His teeth cut into your lips, your blood spreading over his tongue, but you didn’t pull away. Rather, you leaned into him, resting hands on his chest and doing your best not to jolt when he hauled you closer. He’d be gentle with you later on. He’d treat you like the delicate, precious thing you were later on.
For now, he just wanted to pretend he was telling himself the truth, when he said that.
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reveluving · 7 months
Text
the bump in the night ; rick flag x reader
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summary: someone made Mrs Flag cry, and her family is not having it.
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, shadow-magic f!reader, reverse comfort & humour!
a/n: this AU is based on this piece I made a while back, 'cause you already know I can't do this special without hubby Rick and the kids! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ
» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!
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'For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.' ;
Coming home to his daughter's hugs had become an everyday thing if Rick didn't have to work overtime, but if the flicker of sadness in her eyes was anything to go by, something had to have happened while he was away.
“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” 
It was the same thing she told her brothers when they got home from school, and just like them, it was enough for Rick to get the whole picture.
Ah, Mrs Bedford. Or as the neighbourhood youngsters, children and teenagers alike, like to call her 'the modern witch of the road', and not in the cool way. Her husband was no better, always bugging you at any given opportunity. The worst part was Mrs Bedford always antagonized you for it, even if she knew you didn’t entertain her husband’s behaviour. It was also extremely hypocritical of her, considering she herself has tried to make her move on Rick. A lot. Only to be met with disappointment each time. 
Her children were just as bad, too, to put it lightly.
“What did she say?” It was the green light Irene needed before she explained what had happened to a T, courtesy of her father’s eagle eye. Unlike most days, it was just you and Irene visiting the park since your sons had football practice. 
The two of you were feeding the ducks when Mrs Bedford came up to you.
“You on your own?” Was the first thing she asked you before you questionably said ‘yes’, despite Irene being there too, and the little girl realized Mrs Bedford wouldn’t have gone off on a tangent about you and your ‘possibly tainted history’ if her father or brothers were around in the first place.
“I don’t know what you did but I can see it in your eyes, Flag. You’re no saint. You can fool the others with your little flower shop and your so-called angelic kids, but not me.”
Though Mrs Bedford knew nothing about your powers or your time in Belle Reve, instead, spewing hate out of jealousy and hatred for you for being the favourable neighbour, she wasn’t completely wrong. You have hurt people, you’ve even killed some, but they were for the greater good. Since your freedom from hell on earth, you’ve barely used your umbrakineses. It wasn’t until the birth of your children, to which all three of them gained your abilities did you realized you couldn’t run from who you really were—it wasn’t right nor fair to them.
Then, telling them your story as a criminal and how their dad was once your enemy was another thing. You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting, but it was certainly not amazement and sparkles in their eyes. As they grew older, they began to make sense of how their parents somehow knew people like Aunt Harley, Uncle Robert and hell, even Nanaue.
And at that point in time, Mrs Bedford reminded you of Waller, turning you into submission as you could do nothing but listen to her make a mockery out of you for turning over a new leaf. Irene had to watch your face drop as the woman insulted you, and she knew she had to tell her family about it. 
Irene insisted that she was fine about heading home early, even if you tried to convince her otherwise. She wanted nothing more than to do something about that glazed look in your eyes.
As soon as you stepped foot into the living room, a tear rolled down your cheek. You couldn't help but apologize to her, to everyone if they were with you then. You weren’t entirely sure if it was because you seemed weak over a bunch of words or their fate of ending up with you as the wife and a mother of their family.
Irene shook her head, hugging you with her face in your tummy.
"You're not a mean person, mama. You're the nicest and coolest mama we could ever ask for, and we love you." 
It was simple, something you've heard of thousands of times in your lifetime, but you very much needed it today.
Ever the sweet girl, she accompanied you as you lay in your bed, telling you random stories about what she painted during art class or what she ate at lunch, anything but the time Mrs Bedford’s son, Kyle pushed her off the swing while his older brother, Blake laughed and praised him for doing so. You didn’t need to know that. 
Not yet.
You listened with a warm smile, embarrassed but nonetheless thankful for how observant she was of your feelings before eventually dozing off. 
Irene was careful yet quick to jump off the bed, running downstairs to shush Richie and Ethan as they returned home. 
The more she explained, the brighter their eyes unnaturally glowed. Richie was starting to look like their father as he crossed his arms, listening to her like a police officer, while Ethan seemed like he was already thinking of ways to counter the Bedford’s undignified acts.
Basically, the Bedfords were not the greatest people. Each and every one of them. 
Though they had a myriad of ideas, they weren’t sure how much their father would appreciate it, even if it was for your sake. Still, they thanked Irene for being there for you, promising that something would be done, no matter what it would be.
For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.
After an unexpected nap, you came down to find your kids huddled on the couch, whispering and hushing each other. Curious, you approached them.
Ethan was the first to notice you, offering you a grin before showing you what was in their hands, “Look, ma, I think we got it.” 
You leaned in to take a closer look, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of life on their palms. There, they showed you the differing mass of shadows they conjured, a tougher one you just taught them about a week ago. You have always loved this trick as a kid, and it only aided your sanity when you were by your lonesome in the penitentiary. In a way, you were replacing what life truly was by making your own, even if they were temporary because there was no telling when or if you’d ever be free. 
Yet, here they were, prompting joy and pride as they held the wispy animals of their choice; Richie with what seemed to be an adorable little puppy, Ethan creatively emulated a bioluminescent jellyfish and Irene…
Oh, Irene.
She scarcely remembered how much you loved making her laugh by conjuring butterflies when she was still very little if not for the twins confirming it. 
The butterfly was as small as her hand, but the wings were majestic, idly flapping before flying over to you, leaving cloudy black trails and landing on your outstretched finger. 
You stared at their creations ever so lovingly, already on the brink of tears. You were just as mad at yourself for doubting your worth, and your potential, just because of the things you had to do in the past, for the sake of the person you were now.
You embraced Irene in a tight hug before pulling your boys in as well. You sniffled, absolutely joyous and blessed to be surrounded by the most loving people. Nothing could deter you from this, not even as the shadow puppy yipped and chased the jellyfish and butterfly in excitement. Your cat, Tofu, must’ve heard the commotion, too, as she came from the kitchen to check, only to be frightened and jump on the couch with you as the puppy came running to her.
Rick finally arrived about two hours later, coming home to hear laughter before he saw Irene running across the room, followed by Tofu and the shadow puppy in tow. The jellyfish laid on Richie’s head like a nest whereas the butterfly decided to make Ethan’s shoulder its home as they hung out with you on the couch.
“Daddy!” Irene greeted him before running over to him. He didn’t question the questioning look she gave him just yet and instead, hoisted her up, laughing as Tofu and the puppy pawed at his bootlaces.
“What’s going on here?” He raised his brows, amused by what could be described as a fever dream of a sight.
“The kids learnt how to make little lives.” You giggled, allowing Rick to sit next to you as you scooted over.
“And I got a new hat,” Richie gestured to the jellyfish, who he has now dubbed as Jelly. As if it understood, Jelly immediately floated away, leaving Richie’s hair flattened, “Never mind.”
You shared a laugh as he deadpanned before you turned to Rick, “Was work okay?”
“Yeah, the usual. Decorated the place today, actually.” He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery and showing you and the kids the spookily tacky decor that furnished his workplace.
“Did you really paint ‘dead inside, don’t open’ on the entrance door?” The twins gawked.
“Fitting, ain't it?” Rick joked, prompting smiles and chuckles from you once more before falling back on the couch, “But at least I’m off tomorrow, so I was thinking we could eat out for dinner.”
“Oh! We should head to Pop’s since they’re also offering their apple betty.” Ethan suggested.
“Well, I think that’s a good idea, so,” Richie trailed off, raising anticipation from the rest of you before jumping off the couch and running up the stairs. Ethan and Irene simultaneously gasped before the former took his sister out of Rick’s arms to chase their brother together. You and Rick could only watch with delight as Tofu and the shadow creatures followed them too.
“Everything okay?” He wanted to know, but he wouldn’t pry if you weren’t ready to tell him.
“Yeah,” You nodded, gazing down for a moment before continuing, “Something happened earlier but…”
“Richie! You better not lock the door or I swear to God!” Ethan’s voice rang out from upstairs, followed by Irene’s ‘language!’, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement. 
“It’s all good now.” You reassured him. You knew you could’ve told him, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on. You had children to nurture and a husband to take on the world with.
“The Bedfords?” He guessed. If it wasn’t them, then it had to be Mr Walker.
“The Bedfords,” You confirmed with a tight smile, “I’m just more upset that Irene was there to hear it.”
You didn’t explain any further and Rick took it as a sign to drop it. If they were able to make you this upset, then it was best to ask the kids instead. 
“I’m sorry,” He pulled you to his chest, planting a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead. He rubbed your back, sighing at the very mention of that family. Rick loathed that they were influential enough to be one of the higher-ups of the school’s PTA, though he was confident that money was involved in it too. He hated that they were reasons why you’d come home ranting about how Mrs Bedford bugged you again, or when he had to make sure Mr Bedford knew he was making a promise and not an empty threat whenever it involved their kids and his, "You know I can talk to them." 
It would do no good, but it was worth trying. 
"No, you know how the Bedfords are. Don’t worry, okay? Not now,” You kissed the inside of his palm before pressing your lips against his, soft, sensual and safe. Rick moved forward, deepening the kiss as held the nape of your neck. You pulled away but not before nuzzling his nose, “We should be celebrating.”
He nodded, though he knew it would only linger in his mind for a while. Still, he adhered to your wishes, standing up before offering you his hand to get ready, “Right, right. Shall we?”
You snorted, placing your hand in his the way a princess would when a prince asks for a dance. Unexpectedly, he twirled you around, wrapping his arms around you he pulled you in, chest to chest. You playfully smacked him, though it did very little to wipe off the pleased look on his face as the two of you headed to your room. 
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You and the boys were the first to head out to the front yard, chatting and evaluating the decors of the houses while waiting for Rick and Irene. 
“What happened today?” He asked his daughter quietly as they stood at the front door, helping with her shoes while she slid on a jacket. 
“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” She whispered back, swinging her arms as she watched her father tie her shoelace, “Like, really mean stuff. No one was around except us so she was kinda loud, too.”
Rick fumed, clenching his jaw as he could already hear and picture whatever nonsense she loved to spit out. 
“Mama got kinda quiet when we came home, and then she started crying. About how she’s sorry she was a criminal and how we’re ‘stuck’ with her powers.” She added. If anything, she and the boys thought your abilities were the coolest thing to have ever happened to them. 
He shook his head—who wouldn't crack after being subjected to their ways for so long? He hummed, hiding the seething resentment by ruffling Irene's hair.
"Can you help me distract your mother while I talk to the boys for a bit?" She nodded diligently, skipping over to you before Rick called out to his sons, "Need some help, boys." 
They rushed over, glancing at you before Ethan spoke up first, "She told you?" 
"Yeah." Rick replied as he locked the door.
"Can't we do something about it?" Richie asked with a frown.
"You boys are not punching Blake again." Rick reminded them with a small smile. 
"You didn't seem to mind it," Ethan mirrored his father's amusement, "He was yelling at our teammate and encouraged his troll brother to push Irene off a swing." 
"I'm mad, too," Rick was more than mad, but he couldn't let his emotions run wild, "Look, we'll think of something, alright? For now, just make sure she's happy." 
That's all they ever wanted.
The drive to Pop's was a lively one, and so was the dinner itself. Though you knew you'd be thinking about Mrs Bedford's words every once in a while, the smiles and laughter of your family were already a welcoming distraction as it is. 
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Midnight rolled around, and everyone had returned to their rooms with sore cheeks and a full stomach. You were the first to slip under the covers after a shower, hoping you wouldn't be too tired as you waited for Rick, though it didn't work.
By the time Rick got out of the bathroom, you were peacefully asleep, your face just a breath away from your husband's pillow as his scent soothed you like no other. 
Rick smiled to himself, changing into his PJs before sitting on your side of the bed. The dip roused you from your slumber just a little.
"Rick?" You murmured, fluttering your lashes tiredly.
"Forgot to get some water," He caressed your cheek before bending down to kiss it, "I'll be back." 
You mustered a closed-eye smile and before you knew it, you drifted off once again, lulled by the way he patted your back.
Once the coast was clear, he moved off the bed, silently slipping out and closing the door before heading over to the twins' room. He knocked on the door, just enough for them to hear before doing the same with Irene's door and headed downstairs.
Rick sat down at the dining table with a glass of cold water, arms crossed and lost in his own thoughts before hearing light footsteps approaching.
Richie, Ethan and Irene carefully pulled their chairs back before taking a seat, and just like that, the discussion began.
But it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere and at some point, they just started shit-talking.
"Man, I wish coach would just kick Blake out." Ethan groaned, his head falling back. 
"Tell me about it. He's shit at quarterback." Richie clicked his tongue.
"Boys." Rick warned them, partially because his youngest was listening.
"Sorry." They apologized but Irene didn't seem to mind.
"How about…" She chimed in, tapping her finger on her chin, "We scare them?" 
"Like…?" Richie cocked his head, hoping she'd say more than just that.
"I don't know, I just thought it'd be cool since it's Halloween and stuff. And, well, maybe we could use our powers, but I know mama and daddy wouldn't want that." She shrugged, pouting because she hadn't thought it far enough.
"It would be a miracle to scare them without using our powers in the first place," Richie sighed, looking over to his father, "What do you think, dad?" 
No reply.
"Dad?" Ethan followed suit as the three of them raised their brows.
“How far are you in your shadow puppet practice?” Rick asked out of the blue, staring ahead as though imagining whatever idea he had played out. 
“Uh, pretty far, I think? Ma taught us how to merge our shadows into one if we wanted to make a bigger animal.” Richie answered, earning affirmative nods from his siblings. 
“How big?” 
“Like, this big!” Irene opened her arms wide to let him know just how big of a monster they would be able to make if they wanted to. They haven’t, there was no reason to, but the more their father asked, the more it piqued their interest.
Rick thought it through for a moment. It has been a while since he has seen you make that one particular lifeform, but it was worth a shot. If it were able to render Waller speechless, then it’ll definitely make the Bedfords piss their pants. 
No actual attacks, and definitely no killings. But he’ll make sure they shudder at the mere thought of Halloween. Put the fear of God in them. They had it coming, too, stomping on other neighbours’ happiness for years just for the fun of it. 
He just had to play it safe. 
He slowly broke into a sinister smile.
“You three ever heard of a hellhound?”
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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» a/n: ahh hubby rick <3 ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡
420 notes · View notes
acernusarbor · 1 year
Text
TAG DUMP — GENERAL 01
saved // 001. ❝the wind lifted me up into the trees.❞ — saved
answered // 002. ❝i stop to watch the leaves fall.❞ — answered
interactions // 003. ❝i am the gentle autumn rain❞ — interactions
ooc posts // 004. ❝the mushroom is the elf of plants.❞ — ooc
ask memes // 005. ❝the wind smelled of starting again.❞ — ask meme
interaction call // 006. ❝a leaf dancing in an autumn sun.❞ — interaction call
wishlist // 007. ❝leaves fall from the tree without regret.❞ — wishlist
open starters // 008. ❝i can smell autumn dancing in the breeze.❞ — open starter
promo // 009. ❝her early leaf's a flower.❞ — promo
0 notes
sixosix · 2 months
Note
Eee happy early birthday🎉🎊❤ As a fellow Xiao xiao lover I must request him. For his prompt, Xiao, sappy fluff and journal. 💕💕💕 -Sarah
a/n wc 1.1k! hi thank u so much! :D and ty for requesting xiao… the moml(main of my life)
5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST
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During your travels with him, Xiao frequently observed you gathering every flower in sight. It didn’t strike him as odd; other mortals liked doing strange, mundane activities he could never understand the point of. Whenever he sees you crouching and plucking a Silk Flower, he moves forward and knows you’ll catch up to him eventually. It was none of his business—he didn’t want you to stop if he pointed it out.
But today, it was raining hard. Branches swayed, leaves were ripped off their stems, and the wind whipped around dangerously. One misstep could lead to slipping and a nasty bruise.
He rushed you inside the nearest cave. You pair were stuck there for however-long, at least until the rain would stop. Thunderstorms didn’t bother him, but they would make you cold, and he was pained at the thought of you shivering uncomfortably. You and Xiao sat by the far corner of the cave, furthest from the entrance and the drops of freezing water. Could he try taking you with him if he materialized into Wangshu Inn? He didn’t want to risk it—it was too far, and he hadn’t tried taking anyone with him at such a distance before.
He felt his protective instincts flared when you shuddered against his side. Xiao’s chin brushed against the top of your head. “Y/N,” he said.
“I’m okay, Xiao. I promise!” You sneezed, then frowned at the gray sky. A leaf retaliated and flew into the cave, slapping you on the nose. Your face scrunched up as you peeled it off. “Ahh, I should’ve listened to you when you said it would rain!”
Xiao sighed. “It was my mistake to agree.”
“We’re both going to take responsibility, then.”
Xiao couldn’t ever say no anyway.
You pouted. Your lip was a little colored from the way you were biting it to hold in the shivering. “The day is almost ending, yet we’re stuck here! This is so unlucky…!”
“Did you want to collect your flowers?” he asked. The cave had some sprouting on its surface—Violetgrass rich in its lilac color—but it was too unsafe to try at the moment.
“My flowers?”
“You collect them when we travel.”
Your eyes brightened as you caught up. “Oh! Ah, yes, I do collect them sometimes!”
Xiao shifted, prepared to move. 
Your hand latched onto his wrist, lightning quick. He would’ve reacted badly if it had been anyone else—but it’s you. “Don’t leave me, though!” you exclaim, wide-eyed. “Just stay here, okay?”
“Ah…” Xiao, stunned and unsure of what to do with his hands, settled back to your side. “Okay.”
The rain stopped, but Xiao’s quick-as-a-woodpecker heartbeat didn’t.
“Are you experimenting with herbs?” Xiao asked.
You were startled from where you’d been walking ahead. You and Xiao fell asleep in the cave—mostly you, because Xiao was wide awake, gold eyes visible in the pitch-black darkness—and woke up to birds chirping and the beautiful sunset of Liyue spread over the grass smoothly. From when you’d woken up until Xiao gathered enough courage to ask, you haven’t spoken, most likely feeling the remnants of awkwardness from last night’s strangely intimate moment.
You blinked. “Ah…?”
“The flowers.”
“Oh!” You waved your hands rapidly. “No, nothing as good as that. I’m filling up a journal.”
“A journal,” Xiao repeated, unable to determine the relationship between a journal and the flowers.
“Mhm.” You bounded to the nearest tree and laid your bag on the protruding roots. “Come here, let me show you.”
It was bound by a loose string, bursting at the seams. Xiao carefully flipped through the thick pages, curiously taking in the dried flowers pressed against them. Some had no flowers but a strangely colored leaf or a detached feather.
But each entry had something in common—
Xiao took me to Qingyun Peak—it was breathtakingly beautiful. Everything was colored orange during the sunset. We soared up with the current and flew all the way to Juyeun Karst! You had taped Mint on the corner.
Xiao and I went to Mt. Lingmeng, and wow! It had these stone carvings spread throughout; I came across one and touched it when it shot me straight up the air! I felt so light; it was incredible. Xiao’s face when I disappeared from his view was funny, haha. He caught me when I landed. Two flowers, one on each side of the page, all dried up but still there.
—His name was in each one.
Xiao got severely injured when we ran into Fatui. I feel terrible. But he takes such good care of me. Nothing was attached to that page but dried blood on the parchment. Xiao remembered that day—you closed off and hid somewhere, guilty. You must have been writing.
“Your presence is never a burden. Never for me.” Xiao really says a lot of things. Does he even know what comes out of his mouth sometimes? There were just wet stains on the space after.
Xiao still couldn’t quite understand, but with the way you looked so hopeful gazing up at him… he thought he could at least understand that this journal was important to you. 
You didn’t have an entry from yesterday, which made sense: you barely got to do anything at all. Xiao decided he would make it up to you.
“Stay here and eat,” Xiao said and didn’t wait for an answer.
He returned a few minutes later, eyes narrowed and hands cupped by his chest.
Emboldened by his idea, Xiao eagerly awaited you to notice what was nestled in his palms—an offering. How strange—an Adeptus presenting a gift to a mortal, yet nothing else has ever felt as right.
You blinked curiously, mouth agape. And then laughed.
Xiao wilted. “Did I misunderstand?”
You scooped up the crystalfly and beamed at him, rivaling the beauty of the moonlight behind you. Xiao had to squint. “No, Xiao!” you said, delighted. “No, no. This is just—this is so sweet!”
Xiao clicked his tongue. “Is it really unlike me?”
“No, I’m sorry,” you laughed, moving closer until your noses brushed. Xiao sucked in a breath, looking anywhere else but the pure delight on your face, feeling a little too warm. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s a little funny, though. I was expecting flowers, too, but I guess you wouldn’t be conventional about this, either.”
“You like it,” Xiao said, though it was fumbling for assurance.
“Of course I do, Xiao! It’s from you, after all.”
He nodded, pleased. Xiao felt like he could slice Teyvat in half. 
His mind wandered to ways of enriching your collection. A chip of a hilichurl’s mask? Or a delicate slice of wood for every newfound tree? Perhaps blades of grass Xiao would gather as you rolled around on it? With every journey, your journal grew thick, yet Xiao remained the focal point of your entries—nothing else seemed as fitting.
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screeching-bunny · 10 months
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hi love ur work sm
can we have part 3 of yandere General i wanna know how their life after marriage and how he treats her
Yandere! General pt.3
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
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Pt.2
You were afraid of your new husband and Yandere! General was well aware of this. He knew that after everything he's pulled it would take a while before you could fully love and trust him. Surprisingly, after getting married he starts to become softer and would often do acts of service for you. Although he was a lot kinder to you, you were still wary of him and tensed whenever he was around. Which is how you were right now, laying bed with your husband as stiff as a board. Yandere! General was currently big spooning you as he slept and whenever you tried to wiggle out, his grip only kept on getting tighter. You had a feeling that he was probably still awake and was just doing this on purpose. Every night he would do this as if he felt comfort in knowing that you were trapped in his arms. There was nothing that you could do about it so you just let it happen.
When mornings would come he would always make sure to wake up bright and early to cook you some breakfast. Even though he has maids to do the cooking he won’t let them, this is because you once complimented his cooking and he’s been living this high for a while. Surprisingly, he has really good cooking skills and it never fails to amaze you each time. Due to traveling and his many battles during war in other countries he knows a wide variety of recipes. He’s always whipping up something new for you each time. If he can, he always makes sure to whip your food into a cute shape for you to eat. It’s a part of his creative process so don’t question it.
As time goes on you begin to warm up to your husband due to how soft he is with you. After all, he did stop you from marrying an old man and from your family so you honestly can’t complain too much. On weekends, he likes to take long strolls hand-in-hand through the meadows and tell you stories about his many adventures. Sometimes, the two of you would engage in mock "strategy battles" in the garden where Yandere! General would always allow you to outwit him. Another thing that he enjoys is going on picnics with you, where he would playfully lift you up as the two of you crossed a little stream. Yandere! General loves dancing under the moonlight with you and he'd twirl you around like you were young sweethearts on their first date. He just finds you really adorable and cute.
Yandere! General can’t be home all the time due to his job and would make sure that you’re well taken care of when he’s gone. Will leave small notes for you to find from him all over the mansion like a treasure hunt. He makes sure that it’s damn near impossible for you to have any chance of escape and hires people to monitor your every move. When he’s out in war he’d make sure to stop by any shop that catches his eye to buy any clothes, accessories, trinkets, etc that he thinks that you might like.
Soldier: “Sir, what do you think our next course of action should be? ….. Sir?”
Yandere! General: *currently window shopping for you*
Soldier: “....”
Everytime he arrives back home he makes sure to never come back empty handed and will always bring back flowers for you. The flowers are proudly placed in the middle of the dining room table. He cherishes quiet nights by the fireplace, reading books and sharing laughter. He’d have you read aloud the book that you’re indulging yourself in so he can enjoy it with you. Occasionally, you would even fall asleep on the couch, wrapped right in his arms, reminding him of the peace he found with you. He lives for moments like these and when it's time to take you to bed he’d walk in circles in the living room just to hold onto you a little longer.
Fall is filled with the two of you making leaf piles that he would throw you into. During this time of year the two of you harvest apples together so that he can bake you an apple pie. Winter time is filled with joyous hours where the two of you would build snowmen, engaging in friendly snowball fights that often ended with laughter and playful kisses in the snow. During the springtime you are bombarded with many flowers and homemade chocolates. Then the two of you would plant flowers in the garden together. In the summer, when the fireflies adorned the night sky, Yandere! General craftily builds you a swing in the oak garden. Where the two of you would spend countless evenings gently swaying back and forth, laughing like carefree children, and promising (totally not Yandere! General forcing you to say this) to stay together, no matter where life's journey took you.
When he feels stressed, he comes to you for comfort. He finds solace having you in his arms. To him it feels like you're a haven of peace and love. He only shows his soft sides to you and never to others. Dislikes it when anyone sees him that way and would gouge out their eyes if they ever did. Isn’t very transparent about the things that are bothering him, he’d rather not have you stress or worry about it. Views you as something that’s delicate even if you’re not and believes that he can break you anytime he puts too much strength in you. Which is also another reason why he keeps weapons away from you.
As I said before Yandere! General is the type of guy who likes to maintain order and likes when his rules are followed. Make sure to absolutely never piss him off. So as long as you follow them and don’t disrespect him then he’s a fairly good husband but if not then he’s very harsh on the punishments. Follow his rules unless you wanna say goodbye to one of your legs.
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