#withered flower anon

[emeritus-fuckers]

I know you said requests are closed, but I’m really hoping you can help.

My friend just lost a family member and I was hoping you’d be willing to write some confit hcs with any of the papas or the ghouls.

I fully understand if you ignore and delete this. I’m just trying to cheer him up since he and I are long distance friends and I can’t do much over the phone.

Thanks for your time and consideration

-🥀

I'm using the characters discussed in the dms. I hope this helps. - Jez

Comfort after losing a loved one headcanons

Includes: Primo, Copia, Mountain, Swiss, Sodo, Rain and Cumulus

Primo

Due to his age, he's lost many people in his life. Some closer than others. So he understands your loss and is there in whatever way you need him to be.

He's there to offer a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen.

He'll kiss your hands as you talk. Or rub your back. Or whatever you wish. He's there to support you.

Offers to help you grow the most beautiful flowers for their grave when you're ready.

He lets you talk all you want. Whenever you need. It doesn't matter if he's in the middle of something.

He's always there for you.

If you want to get your mind off of it, he'll offer many relaxing activities.

No matter what you need to do, he will be there for you and he'll do his best to provide you his support.

Copia

He knows he's not the best at comforting, but he does his best. He holds you tightly and lets you talk about the person you lost.

Tries his best to sympathize with you. Lets you hold and okay with his rats in hopes that it'll cheer you up at least a little bit.

Watches your comfort movies with you. Gets your favorite food. He tries his best to make sure you know you can always count on him.

Sister will probably get upset with him for it, but he won't even touch his work until you feel better.

He loves you so much, he wishes he could do something to magically remove your pain, but he knows healing can take a long time.

He'll be there with you the entire time. He loves you a lot. And he'll do anything you ask, just as long as he can comfort you somehow.

Mountain

Lets you get all the frustration out on his drumset.

You're also forbidden from walking. He's gonna carry you and give you all the hugs and kisses he can.

His tail is basically your new stress toy. He doesn't care how sensitive it is, if you want to play with it, it's yours.

He'd let you absolutely bite or scratch him if needed.

Doesn't mind if you need to cling to him, he easily carries you with one arm.

Makes you food and offers to feed you.

He'll baby you all you need, taking care of your needs for you.

He's even gonna keep you wrapped in a blanket.

You can take all your time mourning. He's got you.

Lets you talk and and cry all you need. He's fully prepared to do absolutely anything for you, no matter what that is.

Swiss

He's gonna do his best to bring you some joy.

Plays funny riffs for you, acts out funny scenes, tells you dumb jokes and puns.

Lets you fuck around with his instruments if it helps.

Swiss lives for your smiles so by default, he tries to get you to smile.

He's willing to cuddle you to oblivion if it helps you.

Kisses and hugs all around.

He's going to listen to you and make as much small talk as possible.

It's just his first instinct to distract you and cheer you up. If you tell him that's not what you need, he'll listen.

He'll let you lay on top of him, throwing a dumb joke to hopefully cheer you up.

He does his best to make you focus on happy thoughts about the person you've lost, kissing you all over.

Will absolutely make a fool out of himself for you.

Sodo

The first thing he does is make sure you get your space. Unless you specifically ask him to let someone get close to you, he's gonna chase anyone away. You are not to be bothered and that's final.

He's the most protective of the bunch, I'd say. But he's also rather awkward.

He will bring you things to cheer you up. Your favorite snacks and drinks, fluffy blankets...

He gets you plushies and other stuff you can cuddle up to.

He deals with his issues by biting you, so he offers to let you bite him, hoping it helps at least a little bit.

Tell him what you need, it'll make everything much easier for the both of you.

He'll let you cuddle onto him for as long as you need. He can't say no to you.

He'll let you hold into him as long as you need, doesn't matter how long.

Rain

He's very good at soothing you.

Let's you curl up on his lap. He'll hold you and give you tiny kisses.

He'll play his bass for you, might offer to teach you a few simple riffs.

He'll let you play with his tail and talk about the loved one you lost.

Will offer to take you out for a swim, since it usually soothes him.

He would slowly undress you both and cuddles with you in the bathtub.

He's not too fond of bubble baths, but he doesn't mind if it's for you.

He'll gladly endure anything, really, if it cheers you up.

Kisses your hair often. Murmurs comforting words.

Basically becomes your own personal plushie until you feel better.

Cumulus

Speaking of plushies, this gorgeous Ghoulette becomes your plushie, pillow and mattress.

Lay on top of her all you need. Cry all you need. She's prepared for that.

She'll quietly sing to you, hoping to make you feel better.

If she's not holding you, she's getting your favorite snack and trying anything she can to bring a smile to your face.

She'll listen to you, rubbing comforting circles on your back as she kisses he top of your head.

She's very good at making you feel heard.

She'll listen to any stories you have and will also ask about them, hoping you'll feel a bit better if you focus on the happy memory.

She's also completely okay with you hiding from the rest of the world in her chest of thighs.

She offerss you her complete support, no matter what you need.

~

Written by Jez.

Taglist: @sirlsplayland @firefirevampire @thatoddboy @ouijaboardemo @lightbluuestars @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @lunarsromantichomicide @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @natoncesaid @igodownjustlikeholymary @strawberriiblossoms @bloodmoon-bites

[piningpercussionist]

*The bunny surprisingly doesn’t last long, and only manages to get 5 (and a half??) capsules out before falling and getting buried in them*

*The bunny giggles chaotically, before calming down and speaking with a soft whine*

I’m cold down here I don’t like this :(

*Her paws reveal themselves from the small pile and she pitifully reaches for Kim.*

-🐇 (Hopefully no longer hexed)

Aw... come 'ere.

*Crouching down completely, Kim brushes the capsules aside, letting them clunkily roll before settling naturally. Once she's unearthed the bunny, she picks her up, holding her close to her chest with one arm.*

There, that should be better, right? Let's see what you got...

*The five (and a half) capsules are mostly new colors, save for the half capsule, which is also a mossy green. Kim squints at it distrustfully and picks it out first, and when she lifts it, another knife slides out- this time different looking, and clearly freed with far less effort. Kim turns her hand to peer inside the capsule, taking note of a sort of sparkily darkness that very quickly seems to evaporate from within.*

That's odd...

*Shrugging, she puts it down and picks up the new knife, extending and rotating it so the bunny can get a better look from her position. It seems to be a pretty normal knife, although in one of the weirder design choices Kim's ever seen, the handle seems to have detailing resembling pockets.*

This still feels... very illegal. Also, this is a really weird design choice for the handle? It's all uncomfortably bumpy from the pocket decals...

*Kim picks up an orange capsule next, less hesitant as she cracks it open. Into her palm, a necklace tumbles out, comprised of several dangly silver chains, at points connected with little, barbed looking red jewels. Kim quirks a brow and pokes one of the jewels, but the edge feels dulled, so she simply moves on to the next one.*

*The yellow capsule deposits a wallet with nothing inside, save for a photo of a grinning cat. Kim looks a little confused as she shuts it, opting to simply grab another capsule. This one is blue, and when she opens it, there is a slight hiss. She drops it, startled.*

Shit! What the hell-

*A cool mist seems to come out of the capsule, leaving in dense white streams. The mist curls around Kim's ankles and she shivers, picking it up and turning it over. Inside is a small little figure that looks to be made of... ice? It appears to depict some sort of knight, but not from anything Kim recognizes. Deciding not to touch it, she shuts the capsule, a little unnerved by how immediately the temperature rises around them- just back to normal, which was already fairly cold, but it leaves her wondering just what exactly that thing does. Unlike before opening it, the capsule actually feels cold to the touch now, and she opts to set it back on the floor a little distance away.*

Be careful when you open that again. That's f-fucking freezing.

*The next capsule is purple, and when opened, it has a piece of fabric sticking out the bottom end. Kim grabs it and begins to pull- for a moment, she is mildly concerned it will tear, but then it seems to come loose, eventually being completely removed and revealed to be a button up shirt. The fabric is a very, very dark blue, with a shimmery, embroidered, nearly equally dark purple design sewn throughout it. It appears to be floral, stretching along the sleeves, collar, and one pocket. The other pocket is solidly colored, in a shade of purple matching that of the brighter shimmering from the threads.*

... This is kind of nice, actually. Not my style, but I could see it appealing to someone. What is this loot pool?

*Kim looks back up at the machine, shaking her head before grabbing the last capsule. It's hot pink, and feels warm to the touch. Kim is very, very careful opening it, nearly dropping this one too as light pink flames lick out of the crack. She may not drop it, but she does fumble, and the flames graze her fingers.*

AH!

*Kim jerks her hand back quickly, freaked out for a moment, before realizing it didn't actually hurt at all. Curious, she pulls it back in, widening the opening. Inside, an object so dark it nearly looks like a black hole rests, flames turning white the closer they are to it. It appears to be shaped like a star, whatever it is.*

Okay... weird, but kinda cool I guess? Why do none of these have labels or anything? How are we supposed to know what we got?

*She runs her hand through the flames, noting that they just seem to be very warm, but snaps the container shut shortly thereafter, feeling a little strange.*

Not sure what's up with that one... let's just head back to my place already.

*Kim's tone sounds a little more empty than before. She seems to catch this herself after a moment, frowning and shaking her head.*

I think I need to be somewhere normal and familiar. And you need your snacks and your drink.

*She smiles slightly, but it feels a little forced? At least to her; she looks away with a frown, hoping the off feeling will go away. She idly pets the bunny, lost in thought as she turns to start them on the way home.*

[comfortless]

hades! konig and persephone! reader

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. abduction, voyeurism, dubcon, not very explicit smut.

notes: this has been on my mind for an eternity actually thank you sweet anon for finally encouraging me to write it out! if you celebrate, merry christmas! and if not consider this just a lil gift for absolutely no reason apart from for being my first Kö request. 💕

A hollow grows within him the moment his gaze meets hers. A chance crossing whilst collecting a rare offering of fruit laid out just for him. Most mortals wouldn’t beckon his attention, and the gods often left him just as well. He knows better than to take insult and become reckless, though… recklessness comes as easily as breathing when his stare settles on her across the glade. She twirls in silent dance, pirouetting carefully as if to avoid crushing the nature that springs up, brushing against her soles. Her voice picks up in a song when she notes the figure watching her from a distance, her cadence no less beautiful than any choir despite the flighty waver in her tone.

When the nymphs rise up from the stream to listen, he stands transfixed for a moment as they pull her in with them for a more elaborate dance, voices all melding until they break into a chorus of giggles and stories.

It should have been left at that.

She walks an earth made for her; flowers blossoming beneath her bare soles, each root extending for just a chance to brush against tender flesh, a breeze that flits gently against her hair. The daughter of Demeter, something unattainable, too precious to be dirtied by the howling abyss below her feet.

He is tethered to darkness and unknowns, an enigma with dried blood beneath his fingernails; the only songs he hears are screams. He’s since stolen flowers from the meadows she dances in. Beautiful peonies and soft green things that smell sweet. Flowers don’t bloom in the dark, they wither and dry.

Days are spent in melancholic longing, nights his roaring grief melds with the wailing of lost souls. Ugly and tainted noises that he dreams will reach her ears, that she will come to him with her lashes wet with tears, wrap him in her arms and quiet all but her own voice as she tells him that he’s more beautiful than her rivers and her blooms.

Yet, she never does.

König takes it upon himself to walk the land of mortals, teemed with life and pleasures more often now. He pulls himself from below with unnatural fire behind his eyes, a horrible, yearning abyss in place of the feathery, clumsy love that he’s watched so many others allow for themselves.

She notices him while he watches her bathe amongst the nymphs, stood upright and imposing beneath the shade of a tree. Each time, while the nymphs shy away with giggles and hands curled over their breasts, she merely keeps her eyes on him; lips-parted and pulse raging. He knows, would swear by it, that his obsession is not entirely one-sided.

Once, she chooses to wave at him, a demure flick of her wrist while his stare remains fixed upon her. The droplets of water from the curve of her neck, down to the swell of her breasts and the pebbled nipples there— down, further into the water that envelopes her and sends his mind to flicker, a roaring flame building from his chest to his groin.

All of his frustrations pale and cower at the fantasy that he just may be able to grant himself the liberty of sinking into something writhing and warm from just one, simple gesture.

He knows he’s fucked, because his first thought after the lullaby of attraction subsides is to poke her just a little; prod her and see what makes her cry the hardest, blanket her in the shadow of himself and pick her apart like a vulture to a cadaver, do things to her that no man ever has or should. It’s not right, and he has to force himself to turn away, the fabric of the veil obscuring his face as he slinks back into the dark where he belongs. Away from the untouchable maiden who seems to haunt him endlessly with her teasing.

The giggles and splashes of the nymphs whisper through the air like the chirping of birds. Though, one voice stands out above the rest of the noise, causes him to halt in his tracks.

“Why does he never speak to us?”

Her voice, so sweet, asking about him when she should be speaking of nothing but the beauty surrounding her, the warmth of the sun and never the cold darkness of the moon.

It’s eating away at him, he realizes, when he can no longer satisfy himself. Nights lain in a haze, staring up at blackened walls with his length in hand. All it takes is the memory of wet lashes and a soft smile, usually. Her beauty is enough to bring even him to his knees, yet, he finds himself instead on the brink of hysteria the first night he finds a vision of her is not sufficient enough to reach the brilliant white haze of a climax.

The thought of stealing her away from her world of beauty to drag her down into the dark with him fills him with both elation and a terrible guilt. Zeus himself is no different; the thought shouldn’t warrant a seeping coldness in his veins, nor should it have caused him to spill his seed into his hand with only a mere flick of the pad of his thumb over his tip, yet it accomplishes both. A waste, when it should be buried deep inside of his beloved.

It takes only two nights for him to plot, to have Gaia choose to favor him, and on the third day the Narcissus flower blooms, pretty and golden. It echoes false promises, softness and beauty beyond even the daughter of Demeter’s imaginations. She will hate him, she will. Her very soul will sour the moment she lays her eyes on him next, but eventually… she will come to understand, return his love with a whisper of her own. Lightly, at best, but it would still be more than he had ever known.

He watches the roots of the plant from below, a pinprick of warm light shining down. The thumps of footsteps overhead, shaking down loose soil like raindrops, giggles like crackling thunder. She’s roaming about with her nymphs again, gentle with her and all of her beauty. After watching her for so very long, he’s more than certain they will be braiding the flowers and falling asleep after fits of laughter with the taste of fruit on their tongues. Only, she’s condemned herself by being so predictable. She will fall, not into soft grasses with a woman’s arms thrown over her, but directly into his own. She won’t eat the fruit of the earth, but drink his wine and allow him to lose himself in her flesh, bedded down against the pelts of beasts and blackened out by shadows.

The wait isn’t long. Her voice breaks through the quiet of the earth below her feet, seems to light up even the space between the two of them as her footfalls halt only several paces away.

“Look at this one!,” she calls out.

Several steps follow after her as one of the ladies of the river comes to join her. He imagines the smile on his beloved’s face, the way her body curves as she kneels down to his trap and his fingers twitch in anticipation of what’s to come.

“Maybe not that one, sweet,” the nymph warns. “There are prettier ones by the bank.”

König can feel his jaw tighten, eyelids pausing to narrow up at the small light as he tries, forces himself to believe that this was fated. She wouldn’t turn away— she couldn’t.

“No... just look at it. We’ve not seen one so lovely since last spring.”

“What if someone else planted it for themselves?”

“But… I want it.”

She sounds so pitiful, so gentle, and he can feel that swell of heat curling inside of him again. The urge to simply love her feels all-consuming with each word that passes from her mouth.

The two above giggle to themselves at her mischief, before finally, the roots begin to move from a gentle tug above. In a matter of seconds, the entire plant has been uprooted. For a daughter of nature to not long for its beauty would be unrealistic, yet he still exhales his relief. The earth riots beneath the women’s feet, splintering cracks and loud discordance echo through the valley. The nymph’s shrieks join the disarray as her featherlight footfalls lead her far, far away from what belongs to him: the dark, the rot, and now her.

With so little time to react, she falls headfirst into the abyss, clutching the narcissus tightly between her soft breasts. Waiting arms are raised to the glimpse of sun and beauty to catch her as he pulls her tightly against his chest, tucks her head against a broad shoulder and grasps at her waist. Whatever he had imagined her flesh to feel like paled in comparison to her warmth, the softness that gives with each press of a digit that makes her tense beneath his touch.

She’s crying, shaking, terrified as she weakly raises her head and offers him a smile. It’s the kind of smile that screams savior, and he can’t bring himself to correct her. No one has ever looked at him with such tenderness.

Everything quiets the moment she looks up to him like that, after condemning herself to him as though she knows nothing of men and gods. She looks at him like he’s an angel, in turn he bites his tongue so hard he can feel the pinpricks of blood and soreness blossom from the wound. He knows he isn’t good, but the heavens have got their filth, too.

“Thank you.” She speaks in a whisper as the world above falls back into place, blanketing them both in shadow and the scent of soil and brimstone. Politeness seems unnecessary, now, though he places her gently onto her feet.

He’s far too mesmerized to stop himself from dropping to his knees in front of her and trailing a hand from her knee to her thigh, squeezing flesh so warm that the very feeling lingers pleasantly against his palm.

If a god couldn’t pluck him from this emptiness and set him on a right path, perhaps a goddess could, as he has always imagined. It’s only confirmed the instant he realizes she isn’t flinching away from his touch.

“I didn’t save you,” he explains calmly.

He’s struck down titans, claimed rulership over the underworld, and yet nothing has made him feel smaller than the fretful look in her eyes as she looks down to him kneeling before her like little more than a common man. As if to provide comfort, selfishly to himself, his massive hands drift higher to rest on her hips still wet with river water and blades of grass clinging to her just as he has longed to do. For what’s felt like an eternity of waiting, of pining, only to have it end with something as simple as a flower.

“I brought you here.”

She’s still beautiful when she cries; a palm is clasped over her mouth, eyes swimming as she trembles in his grip. Of course, she knows what this is about without ever having to ask, yet she still does as if to plead him to tell her that her thoughts are all wrong— that she’s safe and will return to her lovely friends, to her mother that would assuredly be worried sick and furious.

The rise to his feet feels like a mile long stretch, whilst he keeps her caged between the dirty wall and the vast expanse of chest. He shushes her with a gentle tone, wipes her tears away with the ghosting of fingertips before pushing up the veil covering his face to lie claim to her mouth as though his very life depended upon it. Perhaps it did. Though he did not fear Demeter, nor his brothers should she call upon them, he feared not having this ethereal, gentle thing at his side. He feared the creep of loneliness that ravaged his bed each night.

She sighs against his mouth, but does not reciprocate. Everything about her is tense and stressed, a wild mare preparing to kick out for the first time. His tongue lolls out to lap against her soft lips, just twice before he forces himself to part from her.

His beloved brushes away stray tears from her cheeks with the meat of her palms, shivering just a little as she tries to force herself to straighten up, appear braver despite the way she teeters on the edge of falling apart so easily before him. The heavy gaze of obsession fixed upon his face turns further predacious when she apologizes for not being able to help herself in response.

“I didn’t know it was yours,” she explains, holding out the ruined flower to him in one, shaking hand. She protests in her own way, eternally kind, but it all falls on deaf ears as he brushes the petals from her palm and takes her up into his arms again. With an arm beneath the backs of her knees and the other wrapped tightly around her middle, he leads her deeper into the underworld.

A mere taste wouldn’t do.

Her protests are nothing more than soft sniffles when he does take her to his bed of pelts, her arm even thrown over his shoulder as her body presses tightly to him. He thinks for only a moment that he could take his time, stop this all before she truly does grow to loathe him, but the descent into the bed only fortifies his resolve; his belief that this gentle woman of the earth, who smells of magnolia and clear waters belonged entirely to him. For now and forevermore.

“You are to be my wife.”

That quiets her for a moment, her eyes finally meeting his once more as he hovers over her, a palm to either side of her head. She has a mind to shyly curl her hand against her chest then, centered between her breasts which rise and fall with each flighty breath. It’s not panic, but more— curiosity, a misleading thing that he takes to be acceptance until she graces him with a mere murmur of her voice again.

“I don’t belong here.”

König knows that she doesn’t belong in a place like this, for all her grace to be lost to the cold, the rot; his kingdom is nothing but a wasteland riddled with the dead and subjects who take up the mantle of cruelty in his stead. The thought of actually allowing her to go instills rage and melancholy so quickly, he curls his fingers into the fur below to keep himself from flinching.

“You will.”

A digit reaches to trail across her bottom lip, tentative, but the need to touch overwhelms him past the point of caring for much else. To his amazement, she still does not push him away.

“How could that be?”

He doesn’t respond.

More than bedding her, a matter more pressing pushes to the forefront of his mind. Though he knows the likelihood of anyone being aware of her disappearance is nonexistent, a mere whisper from the beaks of crows by this time, he would do well to ensure that she wasn’t leaving. Just as every other soul resigned to dwell here with him, she too would remain.

“You’re famished,” he whispers the suggestion as he splays a palm out over her bare abdomen, only backing away enough to allow her a small length of space between them.

Her concerned stare shoots from his palm to his veil in an instant before she weakly nods her head and props herself up on her elbows.

“Quite… yes.”

She allows herself to be pulled into his lap without a fuss, doesn’t make mention of the hardened cock beneath her. His mind is swimming with the fantasies that kept him tame on so many nights without her as he presses his nose against her temple. A shallow intake of breath, and her lips part readily for him as he pushes the sweet pomegranate seed into her mouth, savoring the brush of her tongue against his fingertip. She eats without thought, never knowing how she’s tethered herself to his plane.

There’s an offering of sweet wine followed by a gathering of honeysuckle for her to sip the nectar from as well before he’s convinced she’s pliant enough. Despite the desire raging within him for all of this time, he would not be cruel to her. The thought of hurting this sweet, little dream doesn’t excite him. It’s her love that he wants, not her anguish.

He lies her back with sweet whispers, gentle caresses as he listens to her murmurs in response. She speaks of the stories only small creatures would know; the way the winds change and the rivers flood, the prettiest places she’s been. No fruit has ever tasted sweeter to her than the pomegranate, and nothing has ever filled him with such emotion as the moment he penetrates her.

He speaks to her through it, tries to, whilst he’s overcome with a pleasure that assuredly no other has ever had the blessing of. She affixes herself perfectly to him, clinging to him as he takes her with gentle thrusts. Gritted teeth and barely contained grunts are met with dulcet mewls as her hands reach for his. His heart aches, truly, at the knowledge that she isn’t meant for this place; his kingdom is nothing but suffering, and she belongs beneath the sun in meadows of flowers. His last thrust is deep, reminds him of the places he dares not tread often, the domains of his brothers, pillow soft clouds and a heaven far above, lost to him.

It’s her consoling him when he fills her to bursting with his seed— delicate arms curling around his head, cradling him against her breasts as she silenced the tears he hadn’t even realized he had shed. He had damned her, yet her soul had not soured; not all flowers withered in the dark.

The endless night is easier on his beloved after the first. She visits with the other souls and comes to him for comfort when the screams and cries in the darkness become too much to bear. She’s less fragile than he had anticipated when she demands he bring her home, and those demands so often end with little else than König taking her into his arms to lead her elsewhere. The underworld can be beautiful too, when seated upon a throne being hand fed by a man that knows little more than to blanket her in as much softness as he can muster. He tells her of the titanomachy, of the white tree, of anything to keep her entertained. His tongue does not shy from telling her that he loves her, too, often met with a shy glance or a soft giggle. Not outright disdain, and for now it feels enough.

She cries often, in longing for her mother and her friends, though never over this love she had never sought herself. Her loneliness only fuels her need for comfort. Selfishly, he believes that he’s saved the night she willingly wraps her arms around him, pulls him close and falls asleep nestled against his chest.

— — —

With the reliance on mortal offerings and Demeter’s anguish having been brought to light with seasons of failed harvests, it was only a matter of time before she was forced away from him. The months without her feel dreadful and empty, but he doesn’t dare disturb her while she walks the earth at her mother’s side. The agreement was beneficial for all of the gods and goddesses, and he knew better than to tread upon it by rushing to her like little more than a pleading dog. When winter took hold, bathing the lands in its icy touch and withering the plants she cherished and freezing over the rivers her nymphs played in, she would return to him as she must.

Each time is different. His beloved is not simply a thoughtless vessel as many of his subordinates. She is the most incredible thing he’s ever had the joy of meeting.

When she returns in tears, calling to him for his comfort he does not hesitate to kiss them all away and remind her that her summers will return and everything above will be just as it was on the day that he brought her below.

Sometimes, she’s angry, jealous even. She asks him often why he doesn’t come to see her while she’s away. He is her husband, after all. Was there anyone else in which he spent his nights with? Someone fairer than even she? The satisfaction of seating her on his cock, satisfying her as she does him on their shared throne far out rivals even ruling the domain itself. He would do anything to prove to her that she was his only; the sole thing he even thought of whilst her mind was filled with new songs and tales from the nymphs she spent her time away with.

Never has she returned with a gift.

Yet, she stumbles back into his realm clutching a small satchel, dripping with the scent of a juice sweet and familiar. A pleasant smile paints her features as she seats herself next to him on the throne. The bench of marble felt far too vast and dreadful to hold someone so delicate, the sight is something he’s grown accustomed to; emptiness is replaced with familiarity seeing her interact with anything here. It may not be home to her, but something in the way she looks to him— as she always had with tenderness, makes him question if a part of her sees him as home.

“I’ve brought something back for you,” she chimes as she pats her thigh.

Each time was different, but it had never been like this before.

He pulls himself to her side before slumping down to rest his head against her, tracing his fingertips along the length of her leg as his gaze drops almost sheepishly.

“Did you?”

She hums in reply, plucking one of the seeds from the satchel before slipping her hand beneath the veil to feed him. His lips part as he takes in the flavor of the aril, the honeyed taste almost akin to the look in her eyes.

“Just like…” She trails off for a moment as she lowers her head to press a kiss to the cheek of his veiled face. The delicate laugh that follows is unlike any he’s heard from her prior, it’s unique, saved solely for him.

“The six that I fed to you?” He asks her quietly, as he pulls himself away from her to meet her eyes directly. The air around them feels thick, loosely charged with a feeling that he can’t quite place; an intensity that he’s never felt before. Any groaning or wailing off in the abyss is silent now, just quiet words spoken.

Things have always felt warmer since her descent, but he’s learned to not expect anything more than she was willing to give. Still, hope cinches his heart tighter than it ever did prior. Even in battle, slaying his father alongside his brothers, he had never felt his heart race the way it does now.

She nods her head, opening up the satchel just wide enough to reveal the other five arils.

“I don’t think that I understand.”

“You should.”

He mulls over that for a moment before the fog finally clears. Any doubt that he had is remedied by a mere two words. He stares at her dumbly, searching her eyes for any hint that this is some horrible, cruel trick; that the implication is something he’s horribly misunderstood.

She couldn’t possibly come to love him… could she?

“To tie you to me,” she says softly.

The smile remains on her face when she closes the distance to kiss him. Not over the veil, but beneath it this time.

Her descent was one of a selfish longing, and his felt as though he was plunging into a world of flowers.

[jgracie]

LOVER’S ROCK — PERCY + DAUGHTER OF PERSEPHONE

masterlist | rules

❝ could you write headcanons of percy x daughter of hades (or persephone) reader? ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a daughter of persephone

pairing percy jackson x persephone!reader

warnings none !

on the radio . . . lover's rock (tv girl)

an au where technology doesn't attract monsters! also i like to think that the cabins are magical and can alter depending on how many kids are in there so you have a big bed instead of a bunk

If there’s one thing Percy’s sick and tired of, it’s quests. For some reason, he seemed to be a quest magnet, never failing to end up on one at least once a year

After defeating Gaia, he thought this’d be it. No more quests. He could finally relax and focus on normal teenage boy things, like stressing over exams and skateboarding

He was, of course, wrong. As the summer flowers withered and turned into autumn leaves, Percy was ready to take on his senior year of high school. He packed all his belongings into his suitcase, excited to leave camp and head home to his mother, step-father and half-sister, when a certain someone stopped him

Nico Di Angelo, son of Hades. He didn’t come up to the mortal world often, opting to stay in his father’s domain, so seeing him was a shock. Still, Percy waved at him. Nico was a good guy and his friend, so he was always happy during the rare occasions the boy visited

When Nico explained the situation he was in, Percy couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. He was so close to experiencing a normal life! Apparently, Hades himself had requested his presence at the Underworld, having an important task for him

Percy didn’t care for Hades, but the look on Nico’s face told him this was something really important. Nico rarely asked for favours unless he seriously needed them, so he decided to do this for him, not Hades or the Fates or anyone else

Holding back a sigh, Percy put his hand on Nico’s shoulder, ready to shadow-travel to the Underworld

“Perseus Jackson!” He heard a voice boom as soon as they arrived. Looking up, Percy found himself face-to-face with the God of the dead himself. Next to him sat his wife, Persephone, who gave Percy a kind smile

“I have a very important job for you, boy,” Hades began, “don’t worry, I won’t be too long. You see, my dear wife here would like you to escort her daughter to the mortal world and train her. I think she’s around your age. Actually, where is she?” Hades said. Percy rolled his eyes. Great, he was stuck doing guard duty for some random immortal

He immediately took back all his complaints the moment he laid eyes on you. From the way you seemed to bring the land of the dead back to life, Percy could tell you were your mother’s daughter. He could also tell that you were a demigod, as your eyes seemed to lack the boredom most immortal beings’ had

Making your way over to him, you held out a hand, which he gladly shook, “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Perseus.” Percy hated it when people called him by his full name, deeming it too formal for him, but he’d let you call him Perseus for as long as you wanted

After that, it was settled. Turns out, you’d actually spent time in the mortal world before, only occasionally visiting your mother whenever she got lonely in the Underworld

However, your mortal parent didn’t want you engaging with your Godly heritage in fear of all the dangers that came with it, hence why you weren’t at Camp Half-Blood, and why Persephone took matters into her own hands

As you told Percy all of this, he couldn’t help but feel uncharacteristically shy. You radiated regality, but not in a scary way like a child of the big three. Your voice held power, but at the same time seemed to seep out of your lips like honey, coating him and rendering him helpless

Despite being in one of the busiest cities in the world, Percy was only able to hear you. When you finally got to your mortal parent’s apartment, he couldn’t help but be a little disappointed, wanting to spend more time with you

Sure, you were going to be going to his house the next day to begin your training, but Percy couldn’t wait a whole 24 hours

After dropping you off, Percy walked home alone, already daydreaming about what the following day held

The next day, you got ready and headed for Percy’s home (please don’t ask me how you know where to go you just Do), your nerves skyrocketing. You see, this was your first time hanging out with a fellow demigod, and so you really didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself

Since your mom did teach you whenever the two of you saw each other, you were pretty good at using your powers. However, you weren’t on the level of a demigod who’d spent their whole life fighting real monsters

“Okay, first, we have to work on your posture,” Percy said. The night before, he’d turned the living room into a training arena of sorts, moving all the couches, tables and any other furniture to the side. It wasn’t ideal, but it’d work until you found some other place to train or went to Camp Half-Blood during the holidays

You held the sword - a gift from Persephone a couple years back, one you had no use for until now - in front of you, unsure what to do, “like this?” Percy smiled fondly at you, remembering what it was like for him as a beginner

Stepping behind you, Percy guided your arms to the right starting position. He was really close to you. From this (minimal) distance, you could hear his breaths and smell the salty scent of the ocean that seemed to linger on him no matter what he did

The two of you stayed in this stance for a little bit, neither one of you wanting to pull away, before you cleared your throat and said, “okay, what now?”

Nothing much happened after that. You sparred a little, not stopping your training until you managed to land a hit on Percy, which you proudly celebrated. The moment he saw the look of triumph on your face, Percy knew he’d made the right decision by loosening up a little. You’d learn some other day

You were meant to go home afterwards, but his mother had insisted you have some refreshments, so you stayed to drink some lemonade and eat some of her freshly baked cookies. After that, Percy wanted to show you his room, so you stayed to see it. Then, he wanted to play Mario Kart, which needed a second player and you happened to be there so…?

Soon enough, it was nighttime and you actually needed to go. Your mortal parent had begrudgingly agreed to this and you really didn’t want them to change their mind

Since it was late, Percy did the chivalrous thing to do - he walked you home

Once you were there, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu. This was the second day in a row he was in this exact situation

This time, though, before you entered the apartment, you gave him a kiss on the cheek

After that day, you quickly became inseparable. You’d go over to each other’s places a lot, but not just to train - a lot of the time, it’d just be to hang out, maybe work on some exam prep together or beat him in Mario Kart (again)

With Percy, the school year flew by, and soon enough you’d graduated. Usually, during the summer, you’d just stay with your mortal parent, since Persephone wasn’t in the Underworld. However, this summer would be your first at Camp Half-Blood

Mrs Jackson dropped the two of you off at camp borders and to say you were excited would be an understatement. Percy spoke very highly of this place, and you couldn’t wait to experience it all

At your arrival, you were greeted by Chiron and Mr D, who gave you a basic summary of how things work at camp, relieved they didn’t have to break the existence of Greek Gods to another young camper. After that, Percy gave you a tour of the place

“This is my cabin, feel free to pass by if you need anything. I’m usually the only one here, but my brother Tyson comes to visit occasionally,” Percy said, presenting the cabin to you. It was gorgeous, just like him

Marvelling at it, you said, “yours is really cool, Perce, is mine that nice too?”

Noticing his silence, you turned to look at Percy, who was deep in thought, “now that you’ve mentioned it, I don’t think I’ve seen yours, not clearly at least. It gets busy really quickly here. I’m sure it’s awesome though, let’s go find out!”

The cabins looked close together from afar, but they were pretty widely spaced, and the walk from Percy’s to yours felt like an eternity. Getting there was all worth it though

As you stared up at your cabin, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through your body. Your whole life, you’d been in a limbo, stuck between two homes but somehow feeling homesick in both. From the moment you saw this cabin, you knew it was where you belonged

Percy walked you up the steps, and you couldn’t help but feel nostalgic, “we always end up like this, don’t we, Percy?”

The boy smiled, shyly running his fingers through his hair, “we sure do! Look, I’ll come over later and we can go swimming, the beach here’s beautiful. I’ll introduce you to all my friends, too!”

You unpacked your suitcases and put all your clothes in the closet that was provided. The cabin was clearly uninhabited as dust coated the tops of all the cabinets, but that’s nothing a little spring cleaning wouldn’t fix

Picking out a vinyl record from your large collection, you put one on and began cleaning

It was hard work, but you loved it. Your mother was the Goddess of springtime, after all. The act of decluttering and freshening up a space was named after her domain

Besides, you had a lot of fun discovering the things your mother left behind for you - a basket of fresh fruits, a lovely handwritten letter and a cute dress, which you gladly wore after washing all the grime from cleaning off of yourself

In fact, you had so much fun, you completely forgot about the plans you made with Percy. So, when he showed up at your front door, clad in fish patterned swimming trunks with a surfboard in hand, he caught you off guard for a second

You caught him off guard too. You looked ethereal in that dress. Something about it made your skin glow and your eyes glitter, as if it were woven by Athena herself

“Oh Gods, Percy, I’m so sorry. I got so busy with cleaning this place I completely forgot you said we were gonna go swimming. I’ll go change right now, don’t worry–”

Percy interrupted you, “it’s alright, I get it. I had to deep clean my cabin when I first got here too.”

Seeing as he was already there, you invited Percy in, excited to show him your new home. He wasn’t paying that much attention to your impromptu tour though, too busy admiring you to care about the designs on the wood of your closet

Your tour ended with your bedroom. You took Percy by the hand and led him to your bed, pulling him to you as you landed on the pomegranate patterned bedsheets

In the background, your vinyl continued to play. Of course, the song playing happened to be a love song. As you stared into the cerulean of Percy’s eyes, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming love swell in your chest for him. This boy had changed your life in a way you’d be eternally grateful for

The song progressed, and your faces got closer and closer. As it reached your favourite part, a part Percy knew all too well after the many days you spent making him listen to this song, your lips locked

They were a perfect fit

Dating hcs time hurray!!! (cynthia try not to write 5 pages of backstory challenge)

Percy always gets you fresh fruits. He plants a whole garden of fruits outside his cabin with the help of the Demeter kids and every once in a while he’ll show up with a fresh orange or pear or something

Honestly Percy wasn’t that much of a fruit guy before dating you but now he vows to try every fruit he can get his hands on!!! He rates them all for you too and gives little reviews

Sometimes you’ll wake up in the morning to 10 texts from Percy detailing how much he hated a particular fruit, all sent at 4AM

This resulted in the two of you trying the fruits out together since you had major FOMO, which then resulted in picnics becoming your thing. They’re not super traditional picnics most of the time but you call them that so that’s what they are

Your mom found out you guys were dating a week into your relationship and she couldn’t be happier. She left a cute little fruit basket on Percy’s bed the day she found out <3 he shared them all with you of course

He calls you his blossom!! This one’s kind of random I don’t usually do pet name headcanons but I had to just put that there

One of my personal headcanons for kids of Persephone is you become more closed off during the autumn/winter. You feel really bad whenever it happens but Percy’s always there for you, patiently guiding you through your mixed emotions as your mother transitions from the normal world to the Underworld

I also saw this headcanon that children of Persephone all smell like flowers so I’m including it in this. Percy thinks you smell SO good. At first he thinks its perfume so he asks you what it is and you show him all your perfumes and he’s like “nope it’s none of these,” so you guys are super stumped

Until he passes by the Demeter kids’ garden one day and smells the exact same thing. So he spent the entire day scouring it for the specific flower that smells just like you

They got really mad at him because once he found it he picked a ton of them so he could keep them in his cabin and use them as a reference point for florists in the mortal world for when he inevitably goes to buy more, but he didn’t care

You got mad at him too though, since you cannot justify the picking of flowers

“Look, Perce, this is really cute, but you shouldn’t have picked the flowers like that!” You said as you moved the flowers Percy stole from the gardens to pots, trying to salvage them as much as you possibly could

The boy in question sat on your bed, his head hung in shame. Not picking plants is the number one rule of dating a Persephone kid, and he forgot

A guilt washed over you as you took him in. He didn’t know any better, he was just excited because he finally found what was apparently ‘your scent’

After the flowers were all safely in their pots, you sat next to him, tenderly placing your hand on his face and turning it to look at yours, “it’s okay. The flowers are alive and healthy. I’ll help you grow more of them, ‘kay?” You stroked his cheek with your thumb before planting a kiss on his lips

With a goofy smile now plastered on his face, Percy mumbled, “okay, blossom.”

[jymwahuwu]

I was wondering. . What if scenario where darling finally escaped jing yuan by dying and jing yuan had felt all emotions at once anger, furry, sadness, despair, agony. He just cant move on from darling he waited and waited for her next reincarnation and. . Finally after so long of waiting she was finally here standing, breathing and alive

And his not so kind once he kidnapped darling once more and had locked her on his (their) shared bedroom then he just basically fucks darling to the hell and back after so long and he makes her cum and darling felt overstimulated and had kept crying to him to slow down and trying to push him away because who in the right mind would suddenly pull a strange onto some person's house then fucks them into oblivion?!

(Basically idk why im horny or maybe its because i have a period idk anymore-)

From Cloud anon!

thank you cloud anon<3 hesitant to write this…but i love the thirsty ending 🫣 for Jing Yuan, if his clingy and sweet side can't keep you… he doesn't mind getting rough…?

CW: yandere, angst, non-con, kidnapping, overstimulation, (mentioned) death in the past

(The relationship between the reader here and Jing Yuan’s past life is described in a rather vague way. Please DON’T send me requests and comments about angst and take revenge on yandere. I’m tired of receiving those 😭 Please read the rules.)

That's a really rare concept for long living species; life blooms in the spring and withers in the winter. Jing Yuan placed flowers on the coffin, and… still… worked and lived as usual, arranging Luofu's daily affairs at the seat of divine foresight. People whispered- they said, Look. The general is so ruthless. His only lover in centuries had withered like a flower, and he was unmoved.

Jing Yuan knows that he can still live as usual, but there is an empty gap in his heart, which often aches, but he still chooses to keep you in his heart instead of letting time pass by. No loss can cause Jing Yuan to stagnate, he just lives with wounds. He regretted not leaving more holographic records and replayed the few videos you had, over and over again. "mm- Jing Yuan-" Your lips parted slightly, a record of a time when you were so annoyed that you blocked the camera with your hands and giggled while eating ice cream. That was - that was when you liked him, right? The general sometimes wonders - are you tired of him pestering you like that? He apologized, apologized, apologized bitterly - but you wouldn't hear it again. In the end, he still couldn't keep you, you flowed away between his fingers like floating sand. What had hundreds of years left for him?

Reincarnation - Jing Yuan really found you, in another galaxy. In the dim light, you are standing on the street, laughing and chatting with your friends. A familiar frown and a sweet smile, and when talking about interesting topics, the clear and sweet laughter leaked out. Similar facial features, similar movements and expressions are the imprint of the same soul. Jing Yuan suppressed the urge to take you away immediately, knowing that he must first find out your identity in this life. He removes every possible obstacle and takes you away.

Locked up in a room, in the general's mansion. Since you didn't like being able to travel freely among the stars in your previous life.

To you, you who have no information, this is really the cage that abruptly descends. Be sent to the Xianzhou ship by the people of your planet. Your hands are locked with a bunch of locks made of solid space material, but they are wrapped in plush fabric as if to prevent your wrists from getting hurt. The burly man with long white hair, said to be a general named Jing Yuan, caresses your body desperately - desperately. Lots of sticky, dazzling kisses. His tongue dipped into your mouth to search. Tears…tears? This mysterious man doesn't shed tears when you look at him, it's like the tears have dried up. Your thighs and calves were tied together and spread apart, forcing you to expose your most private parts and squirt on his thick fingers for hours. Orgasm is no excuse to stop. After your struggles and twitches, those fingers didn't slow down at all. The cock is buried deep inside you without any suspense after the warm-up is completed. The tight walls contracted and the liquid spread outward.

You are confused - confused, orgasming in pleasure, wanting to push him away (but your hands are tied), asking who he is and why he treats you like this while still maintaining your senses, and all you get is silence. It was the silence of not wanting to repeat the old dreams. From behind, his entire crotch is pressed against your ass, and even your hands are pressed by him, rocking and pounding you back and forth, occasionally kissing your cheek in a daze. Face to face, staring into your eyes, the lower body is closely connected. On top, you were forced to ride him, swinging your waist. From the side, a strong arm lifts one of your legs and slowly inserts it. In front, sucking and servicing that cock for hours. Seed and fluid oozed from the connection. There are two trembling vibrators stuck to your nipples. What a mess.

After making up for some of the love he hadn't had in hundreds of years, the general felt more at ease. Jing Yuan's hands wrapped around your shoulders and waist. You wanted to hate him so much- hate him, but he read you bedtime stories and space. He prepares rich meals for you, toys to relieve your boredom, and kisses your forehead. He promises to take you out, but not now.

Not now.

[pythonees]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ FLOWER POWER — xavier thorpe

REQUESTED: anon

WARNINGS: 18+, aged up characters, fairy reader, sex pollen (dub-con), frottage, fingering (f), unprotected piv sex, requited-unrequited love, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, crying

A/N: anon you are speaking my language! this is my favourite trope omfg. some flower knowledge required if you wanna know exactly what the flower looks like tough it's not necessary

Your favourite place to be is the greenhouse, full of so much colour and life you could barely picture yourself anywhere but there. The love you had for plants and wildlife stems from your fairy genetics, able to control plants and compel animals to your will.

There were some days that you would spend your time in there way into the night, only noticing how much time has passed when a random couple would come by and disturb your fun with their giggling and less than pg noises. Then you'd have to sneak out without disturbing them and making an already awkward situation worse.

On others you would be accompanied by your friend and longtime crush Xavier, who would come to see how things were going and to make sure you got to meals on time. He'd always have to drag you out, forcing you to take a break from your plants and to instead take care of yourself. It was one of the many things you liked about him, they way he took care of you.

Most of the flowers wouldn't get past a seedling, withering up and dying the second the roots started to grow, the combination of flowers too different to grow despite you putting all your magic into it. Those days Xavier knew he'd have to bring food to you, listening in confusion as you rambled to yourself about what went wrong. But that day was not today. Today was a lucky day.

The flower you had created looks... funny. It's small with a few blooms, looking like a mix between a corpse flower and a tulip, but hanging upside down like a lily of the valley. The spadix sticking out from the flower is long and corkscrewed, a pinky purple colour that looks almost like jelly. The spathe goes from green to a deep black not typically seen in naturally occurring flowers. It's enticing to look at, with an odd smell that you can't quite place from where you're standing.

You walk around the flower, looking over it to see Xavier finally sitting down at one of the desks, drawing away. It's hard to stop yourself from watching him when he's in his element, face scrunched up cutely as he concentrates on every stroke of his pencil.

Xavier has been drawing every single flower you make, helping you fill out the journal you made with his art. You however have been staring at it for a few minutes, not knowing where to start in figuring out if it does anything. It's always hard to tell just what type of plant you've made from just a glance. Splicing together flowers is one thing, but infusing your very emotion based magic into the seedlings means that the end result is very... unpredictable.

You don't really remember the mood you were in when you created this, it had been a busy week of tests that had gone by in a study induced haze that you thankfully don't remember. The good news is that even if it's poisonous it won't kill you, it'll just make you violently ill for the next few days. You've only had that happen twice, thankfully, and when you're alone.

You've never had Xavier in the green house with you when you're trying to figure out if a new plant does anything, but you had been sick for a few days and hadn't been able to check on it, and he had missed hanging out with you. So you let him tag along. Now you're not so sure about your decision.

You carefully put yourself between the flower and Xavier, grabbing the bucket full of worms to start some tests. You use a stick to scoop one out, holding the wriggling worm up to one of the flowers to see if it reacts. After a few seconds of nothing happening, you gently nudge the worm against the petal. It starts to move, but not in the way your expecting a carnivorous plant to.

All of the hanging flowers lift up to face you, the inside of the flower a fleshy looking pink. The flowers start to shake just slightly, and you lean closer to try and get a closer look. That's when a haze of white pollen shoots out from the flower, hitting you right in the face. In your surprise you inhale sharply, sucking in a lungful of the mysterious pollen that stings your eyes and burns your throat. You drop the stick in a rush to wave away the plume of pollen, stumbling away from the plant.

Your name is called from behind you, but you're too busy rubbing your sleeve against your closed eyes, trying to get it off. You feel hands grip your shoulders and spin you around, pushing your sleeve away to dab gently around your face with his own sleeve. All you can smell is the familiar scent of sandalwood, weak but enticing and somehow able to overwhelm your senses until all you want is to get closer to wherever it's coming from.

When Xavier stops cleaning your face you slowly open your eyes, finding your gaze hazy and your head fuzzy. Xavier takes a deep breath through his nose, sniffing at the pollen that transferred from your face and onto his sleeve.

"Whatever that shit was smells good," he says, going back in for another sniff. You find yourself leaning in towards him, wanting, no, needing to be closer to him. You move so fast you stumble over your feet, Xavier barely grabbing your upper arms in time to keep you upright, "Woah there, you alright?"

You nod your head lazily, taking the last step needed to press your face into his chest. You wrap your arms tightly around his waist as you rub your face against him. Xavier huffs out a laugh, wrapping his arms around you to rerun the impromptu hug.

"You could have just told me you wanted a hug you know," Xavier laughs, and you can feel it against your face from where your pressed into him.

You tighten you grip, turning your face just enough so that you can mumble out, "You smell really good."

"Thank you? It's the same cologne I always use," Xavier laughs, a hand absently rubbing up and down your back. It leaves a hot trail on your skin that instantly spreads, until it seems to burn. Your skin is tingling and you can feel the tell tale wetness of arousal in you panties and that's when you know you've fucked up letting Xavier come in here with you. You know what type of flower you made.

You open your mouth to warn him about what you know is going on, when he dips down to sniff at your neck, nose pressed to your skin, "you smell good too, like vanilla and lavender."

With him standing so close and nosing at your neck, you can't hold back to quiet moan at feeling that tiny bit of skin to skin contact. It makes the burning you feel under your skin start to feel good, thighs pressed tightly together for some sort of friction.

Tucking your arms in between you, you slide them up until you can cup his face, pulling him away from where he's been smelling at your neck so that he can face you.

"What's wrong—" you cut him off with a kiss, desperate and needy as you moan against his lips. He kisses back almost immediately, the hand that was rubbing up and down your back going up to cup the back of your neck. His big hands feel great against your skin, more contact to stop the seemingly insatiable burn.

His tongue swipes tentatively against you lip, and your eagerly licking your way into his mouth before you can even think about it. Xavier's hands tighten at the back of your neck, holding you in place as he forcefully slows the kiss down. You whine impatiently, but let him do as he wants as you let your hands drop from his face and to his chest.

The buttons of his white shirt are annoyingly small for your rushing fringes, roughly pulling at the fabric as you undo the buttons. You get about half way down before Xavier seems to realize what it is your doing, hand quickly gripping your wrists to keep you in place as he pulls away from the kiss.

"Wanna touch you," you whine before he can say anything, leaning foreword again. You've got his arms trapped between your bodies, making sure to press your chest up against his for good measure. He swallows roughly, and you watch the bob of his adams apple as he stares down at you, pupils blown wide, "Please, Xavier. Wanna get my hands all over you."

"Shit, yeah, okay." Xavier lets go of your hands, and the second you're free they're back to their previous task, pulling and tugging at his shirt until it's hanging open. His tie is yanked open and off, thrown to the side without a care in the world. You splay your hands out, running them up and down his chest as you watch them with awe. Every bit of skin you feel against you makes the burning go away, makes the haze of your brain laser focused to Xavier and his skin and getting it all over you as soon as possible.

You trail your hands up his chest to loop them around his neck, tugging him in for another kiss. This time it's Xavier's hands that are roaming, gliding up and down your sides, stopping to fiddle with the hem of your shirt before repeating the pattern over and over.

"Please," you whisper against his lips, going right back to kissing him with a burning need that rivals the burning of your skin. Instead of taking your shirt off like you thought he was, he lets his hands roam further down, giving your ass a quick squeeze as he goes by before he's hiking one of your legs up, wrapping it around his waist. You quickly do the same with the other, moaning as he lifts you up against his body.

You're quickly turned around and deposited on a nearby empty table, Xavier leaning over you as he deepens the kiss. You keep your legs wrapped tight around his waist, using it for leverage to roll your hips up into his. You both moan, Xavier's hips stuttering against yours at the sensation.

When he pulls away you let out another needy whine, trying to pull him back to you. He does come back to press a quick peck to your lips, but then pulls away again. His hands go to the top of your blouse, fingering at the top button.

"Can I?" He asks, a flustered smile overtaking his face when you nod enthusiastically. Your tie is removed first, with a lot more care than his was, placing it on the table next to you guys. He takes his time undoing the buttons of your shirt, eyes roaming over each new inch of revealed skin like you're a work of art. It has your heart pounding, eyes wide as you watch him watch your body become more and more revealed.

When the last button is undone he slowly pushes your shirt open, exposing you to him. One hand braces him on the table while the other settles low on your stomach, slowly roaming up your body, over a bra covered breast and along your neck before he's cupping your cheek, leaning down to press a quick, searing kiss to your lips.

"God you look beautiful," he says, staring down at you in awe. You wriggle under him, holding your arms out for him. He laughs with a shake of his head, but leans down to meet you in a kiss. You roll your hips again, swallowing the moan Xavier let's out eagerly. When your hips keeps rolling up against his he meets you thrust for thrust, the constant pressure against you clit making you see stars.

Xavier's hand leaves you face to place roaming kisses down your body, stopping at you skirt to flip it up to reveal the grinding of your bodies. You know there must be wet spot on your panties from how soaked they feel, and by the way Xavier stares do at them with wide, hungry eyes.

"Wanna touch you, can I?" Xavier says, fingers running along the band of your panties. You nod eagerly, unwrapping your legs from around his waist so that he can take them of. He's not as slow about taking the panties off as he was with opening your shirt, wide eyes never leaving your exposed cunt as he drags them off and drops them on the floor, leaving you in just hiked up skirt.

His hands smooth up your legs and over plush thighs before he's using his hands to force your legs up and open, staring down at your glistening wetness. You place your feet up on the table as you let your legs fall open, like you're a fine art display for him to enjoy. He slowly runs a finger up through your folds, and it sends a heavenly shock of arousal through your body. He gently rubs his finger against your clit, making tiny, agonizingly slow circles.

"Xavier!" You whine, rolling your hips up against his hand, "please."

"So needy," he laughs, but does as you asks, sliding his finger down through your folds and slipping a finger into you. There's no resistance, walls soaked with arousal as your body greedily sucks his finger in. He gives a few experimental thrusts before he's adding a second, the satisfying stretch of his thick fingers making your eyes roll back.

You buck down against his fingers, urging him to go faster. The burning is easing up even more with his fingers inside you, and you're desperate to make it stop so you can think again instead of being controlled by your pussy and the pollen.

"More, need more," you whine, fucking yourself onto his fingers. You feel a third slip in with the others, and you let out a satisfied moan at the feeling of being filled.

Xavier doesn't even have to move his hand, keeping them still as you roll your hips, watching as you desperately chase your high. But it doesn't come, even though you can feel it constantly at the back of you head, lingering.

You lift your foot off of the table to toe at his jeans, pushing at them until he gets the hint to take them the hell off. He gives your cunt a few more thrusts before he's pulling his fingers out of you, undoing he belt before dropping his pants and boxers in on go, letting them pool around his ankles.

His cock is beautifully thick as it sits between his legs, tip flushed and shiny with pre. He wraps the hand still covered in your arousal around his cock, giving himself a few thrusts before he rubbing the tip up through your folds. That touch alone brought you close to the brink, a long moan escaping you as the head of his cock brushes up against your clit.

You're in limbo as he continues to tease you, tip just barely pushing into your waiting hole before he's pulling out and gliding it up to your clit again. Slowly you lay back on the table, the surface ice cold against your over heated skin.

"Xavier please fuck me. Please, please please." You beg, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you desperately roll up into him just as his tip teases at your hole again.

The little bit he slips in has you both moaning loud and long, Xavier resting both hands on the table as he lets his head hand between his shoulders. His cock continues to slowly slide into you in a way that makes you think it's never going to end, just filling and filling until you swear you can feel him in your stomach. But then he bottoms out, hips pressed flush against yours as he pants above you.

Your walls flutter around him, gripping and trying to pull him in deeper. Xavier groans above you, hips jerking slightly at the sensation. He stays there in you for a moment, still as a rock as he slowly starts to catch his breath. When his breathing is back to normal and he's no longer on the brink of spilling into you, he slowly pulls out, hands gripping the edge of the table by your head tightly.

His thrusts are slow and deep as he splits you open over and over. At first it's great, just being able to feel him in you to soothe the burn. But just like everything else, it's not enough, you want, no, you need more. You can't roll your hips with how close your bodies are pressed together and you choke back a sob of disappointment as you wrap your arms around him.

"More," you whimper, still trying and failing to roll your hips in the tight space between your bodies. You can feel your eyes watering again, staring up at Xavier as he pushes up from your body to stare down at your face, "Please Xavi, need more. Please please please—"

"Hey, shhhh. I'm gonna take care of you, okay pretty girl? Gonna make you feel me in you for days." Xavier whispers right in your ear, voice husky and deep from arousal. The table scrapes across the floor as his hips snap forewords, slamming into you hard enough to have you wailing, head thrown back in pleasure.

Xavier mouths at your exposed neck, hips jackhammering into you at a brutal pace. The wet sound of you dripping pussy fills the room, and through the slowly lifting haze of your arousal, you wonder if there's a student close enough to hear the obscene sounds coming from the greenhouse. But you don't care, mewling in pleasure as Xavier bites at your neck, soothing the abused spot over with his tongue.

Slipping your fingers into his hair, you hold him against your neck as he sucks hickey after hickey into your skin. The overwhelming sensations going on has your walls fluttering around him, choking on a moan as you come harder and quicker than you have in your whole life. Your legs are shaking, head thrown back as you feel the pollen induced haze finally start to lift, the burning heat dissipating.

Xavier gently slides out of you, ignoring your whine of disappointment as he takes himself in hand, furiously jerking himself off as he stares down at you with half lidded eyes. You slowly push yourself up on shaking arms, wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him into a kiss. Your other hand drops down to wrap around the one still jerking himself off, and the brief touch against his sticky erection is all it takes before he's spilling between you, hot cum coating your stomach and breasts.

You're both panting, the sweat on your bodies rapidly cooling in the night air. You shiver, breaking the kiss to wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his chest, chasing the warmth of his body.

"Not that I'm complaining," Xavier says, out of breath as a hand soothes up and down your back, "but where did that come from?"

"Flower," you mumble sleepily, a small smile on your face as you tighten your arms around him. Xavier's entire body goes tense in your arms, and the hands that were soothing up and down your back are now gripping your wrists, forcing you to let go of him as he holds them between your bodies, taking a step back.

"Flower, what do you mean..?" He looks back over his shoulder, staring at the new plant you created before his head whips back around, staring at you with wide, horrified eyes, "The pollen. That's the only reason why you— why this happened?"

He lets go of your wrists as if they're burning, quickly pulling his pants and boxers up. His hands fumble with the belt, and you slowly push yourself off of the table and onto unsteady legs.

"Xavier," you call, but he just shakes his head, turning away from you as he buttons up his shirt. He's walking towards the door at the same time, abandoning his things so that he can just get out. Get away from you.

Your wings flutter out, flying you across the room and in front of him faster than your unsteady legs could. He ducks his head when you get in front of him, turning away from your half naked form, "Move."

"No, Xavier. Not until you listen to me," he doesn't try to move again, but he keeps his face stubbornly hidden behind his hair. When your sure he won't try to bolt you take a steadying breath, reaching out to hold his hand in two of yours. His hand stays limp in your grip, but he doesn't pull away.

"This is all I've ever wanted," Xavier scoffs, trying to pull his hand free so he can leave again, but you're quicker, holding onto him tightly so he can't leave, "It is! Not like this, with one of my weird experiments blowing up in my face, but like, after a few dates. I always pictured our first kiss to be after some cute date, on one of those late night walks you like to force me on. Or maybe in your shed where you always look the most comfortable, face all scrunched up when your concentrating and I just can't help but kiss you. I just— this doesn't have to change anything if you don't want it to, but I'm not lying when I say that this was a dream come true."

Your left flying in front of him in silence, waiting desperately for the words to sink in. It takes so long you start to feel your throat close up, thinking the worst, but then he's slowly lifting his head to look up at you, and you can't help but gasp. His eyes are red and haunted, tears streaming down his face and dripping off his chin.

"I didn't..?" Xavier trails over, getting choked up as a fresh set of tears roll down his face, "I didn't take advantage— you actually want me?"

Your heart drops to your stomach, and you quickly let go of his hand to cup his face, wiping the tears away as gently as possible, "No, no no no. I love you, okay? So much. I might have been a bit out of it but I wanted you. Still want you, okay? You did nothing wrong."

He stares up at you, still crying, but instead of that fearful look in his eyes they're filled with hope, a small smile taking over his face. His hands are shaky as the land on your bare waist, barely even touching you at all, "You love me?"

"So much," you say without even a moments hesitation. Your thumbs are still gently rubbing over his cheeks, even as his tears have dried. The smile you get is blinding, his grip tightening on you as he pulls you closer for a kiss that makes your toes curl.

When he pulls back he looks happier than he's ever looked in a long time, hand reaching up to cup your cheek. You lean into it, a probably dopey smile on your face as you stare down at him.

"Love you too. Didn't think I could have this. Have you," Xavier confesses, pulling your flying body closer to his. He presses a quick kiss the the top of you breasts that your bra doesn't cover, right over your pounding heart.

"You have me, for as long as you want." You reply, carding your fingers through his hair. You stay like that for a while, his face pressed into your chest as he breathes you in while you soothe your hands over whatever part of him you can reach.

"Want you forever," he mumbles into you skin, and you can't help the wide grin that takes over your face. You cup his cheeks, tilting his head up so he can face you. You press kisses all over his face, smothering him with all your love before you give in to his huffing and press your lips together.

"Forever sounds perfect."

©︎ pythonees — do not, under any circumstance, repost, plagiarize, modify or translate my work.

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (11)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, angst, smut, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

He pretended that it was only about physicality, about what he could do with her innocent, warm body. He treated her almost like a servant, making her help him with his bath, with combing his hair, with his dressing. He pretended that he wanted to discourage her with this, to show her that he did not see her as an equal, that there was nothing to be done about the way he was.

That there was no turning back for him.

To his surprise, she seemed delighted. She obeyed his orders with a care, contentment and devotion that made his chest burn with delight.

He never caught her with a grimace of displeasure or impatience as she handled his moist, hot body.

Even when she had his fat cock deep inside her mouth, she looked almost angelic, licking and sucking it, driving him insane with her innocent attitude.

He noticed with surprise that instead of getting bored with her, as he had so far with women, he was fucking her more and more regularly, simply couldn't get enough.

He never had enough.

Her body was always soaking wet for him, her insides moist, hot, inviting, squeezing him wonderfully.

He would catch himself sometimes, during the Small Council meetings, that he drifted off with his thoughts to their close-ups, to their bodies entwined in a tight, intimate, sticky embrace.

One trait of his wife, apart from her devotion and dedication to all his wants and needs, made her particularly winning his respect and favour.

She knew when to keep quiet.

He could not say the same about the ladies of the court whom he had known and observed since childhood.

Always so fucking chatty, engrossed in gossip.

Even his servants with whom he happened to get close psychically before his wife showered him with words of their boundless devotion, confessed to him their feelings that he did not want to hear about.

He didn't want to hear that she loved him.

He wanted to fucking feel it.

He wanted every inch of his body when he fucked her, every shiver, moan or look to prove to him that she was only his.

She fulfilled her duty with greedy commitment, her weeping cunt clenching on his cock in spasm again and again making him fill her with his warm seed.

He himself had no desire or need to put his feelings and emotions into words. Everything he wanted to convey to her he showed her with small gestures which she could already read perfectly.

She understood his cool approach enough to know that the last thing he could say about her was that she was indifferent to him.

He let her snuggle into him at night when she felt the need, deciding after deep thought that it was natural for a woman in the darkness of the chamber to seek comfort and refuge in her husband, her protector.

As she pressed her face to his bare chest he embraced her, holding his large hand on her back or head, protecting her from whatever she was hiding from.

From now on his inner fortress did not separate her from him, but protected them both behind its walls.

She deeply suffered at the sight of her monthly bleeding. He knew it bothered her and that she felt that she was disappointing him in this aspect, still not bearing his heir in her womb.

From his perspective, however, it had only been a few months since their nuptials. He knew it something beyond her control and that by the time her flower withered, she would be able to give him many children.

He forbade her to apologise or speak about it, saying that they were performing their duty properly and the rest of it was the decision of the gods.

His words somehow reassured her and she did not mention it again.

Occasionally they exchanged only a few words during the day, so it could be considered that their relations were cool. He felt, however, that she was now his closest confidante.

More than her he trusted only his mother.

Obviously, he watched her every move and they both knew that any wrong action would cost her everything. She, however, seemed to be well aware of this, and her attitude was to be the proof that he could count on her complete devotion.

All these months he felt something that he had not experienced for many years.

Peace.

Her presence, at first a uncomfortable, had become craved for him, needed. He was no longer able to fall asleep alone, without her warm body lying next to his in his bed.

When he woke from the nightmare again, dreaming that Luke had once more sliced his face open and the maester had cut out his defective eye from his skull, he would only lift an eyelid to see if she lay beside him.

He stared at her, at her gentle, soft face, listening to her calm, quiet breathing until he fell asleep again.

He knew that in his absence she felt alone, locked in the Keep like a prisoner.

Apart from him and Helaena, she had no one.

He took it as a sign of her wisdom that she did not socialise with the other ladies of the court. He knew their nature, the fact that they would have ripped her to pieces, drawing on her handfuls.

She made the right decision by trusting only him.

Her husband.

Not wanting to be completely blind to her needs, he allowed Ser Criston to train her while he was at council meetings and it caused a sensation. His mother was not content with his decision and demanded an explanation.

He, however, recognized that there was nothing to explain.

It was worthy of his wife to share his passion.

Listening to his grandfather's discussion with his mother and brother, he would sometimes stand at the window, watching from above how his lady-wife was forcing her way towards Ser Criston with loud clangs of their blades.

He felt arousal at the sight, his cock throbbed impatiently in his breeches, ready to possess her again.

When he returned to his chamber, she smiled softly at the sight of him, already half asleep, rising slightly on her elbow, her body wonderfully bare and exposed, his.

She knew that there was no point in putting on her nightgown, since he would have ripped it off her anyway.

She only had time to suck in a loud breath as he turned her onto her stomach, drawing her hips to him in one, sharp motion, untying and lowering his breeches, releasing his swollen erection.

He spread her legs to the sides like sweet, ripe fruit, looking with contentment on her slit leaking with her moisture, and guided the fat head of his cock to her opening, forcing his way inside her with one, sure thrust, tilting his back head.

Her fleshy walls clenched against him from all sides, making him pulse hard inside her. He began to slowly root into her with shy clicks of her moisture, rocking his hips back and forth, making her whine sweetly. He watched mesmerised as he stretched her tight core to the limit, bumping his thighs against her buttocks with loud, wet slaps.

"Did you enjoy your time with Cole?" He hummed, panting along with her, his fingers digging into the soft, firm skin of her hips as her walls squeezed him tightly, sucking him inside. He let out a sigh of contentment and tilted his head as her hips began to respond slowly to his thrusts.

"– mhm –" She cooed, pressing her sweet, swollen lips together. Seeing this, he grabbed her by the waist and forced her to sit backwards on top of him, her back pressed to his chest.

He discovered that this was his favourite position to fuck her.

He could penetrate her even deeper, watch with delight as he opened her wide on his cock, at the same time caressing her bud with his one hand, kneading her breast with the other, his puffy, moist mouth trailing over her neck.

It aroused him to think that he was fully clothed when she was completely bare and vulnerable.

His.

"I saw you through the window today." He purred into her ear, speeding up his pace, pounding into her with sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, she had to reach back with her hand and grab his hair to catch her balance, bouncing on his swollen manhood with the lewd click of her moisture.

"I thought that I'd put my sword inside you as soon as I return to my chamber." He gasped, running his tongue over her neck, she whimpered at his words, her walls clenching against him greedily.

He knew that it aroused her, his lewd words made her nipples hard while he teased them with his fingers, pulling them and rubbing with his thumb, her fleshy insides throbbing and twitching hard in delight.

"− Aemond −" She mewled as if begging him to save her, she always uttered his name in such a way that he instantly sped up, his thrusts more brutal and sure as if he wanted to pierce her stomach. They were both panting and moaning loudly at this point, their eyes clenched shut, consumed by their pleasure.

"Beg your husband, wife. Beg him to fill you, and maybe he will." He hissed in a raspy voice, close to fulfilment, all welted and sweaty, clasping his hand tightly on her firm, soft breast. He heard her sob before him, aroused and thirsty, craving her wonderful relief and his seed inside her.

"− please − ah − please, husband, fill me − please, please, please! −" She cried loudly, a low, throaty groan stuck in his lungs as he felt her come hard, her body trembling in front of him in convulsions, her mouth wide open from pleasure.

"− so fucking impatient − fuck! −" He growled, pressing his face to the hollow of her neck, inhaling her scent, the aroma of her sweat and the oils in which she had bathed with him that afternoon, coming inside her with a low sound of overwhelming relief.

They were both breathing heavily, his arms embracing her tightly, hugging her to his chest.

The moment right after their intimate approach was always the time of their greatest tenderness, their sweetest, most innocent gestures.

He would then run the tip of his nose over her face, listening as her breathing calmed slowly, placing soft, lazy, wet kisses full of contentment and all over her skin.

This was time for her, her reward for her devotion and faithfulness, for making him content, for his affection for her.

Staying with her like that he forgot, if only for a moment, what a bad state his father was in.

He had not attended to the meetings of the Small Council for months because of his health condition.

He had only visited him once, when he was sleeping, but had left immediately, unable to bear the sight. He didn't know how he felt about it, looking at his old, dry face filled with pain and suffering.

The real ruler of the kingdom now was his grandfather, with the silent support of his mother.

He knew that Otto, although he showed worry at the king's weakness, deep down felt satisfaction at how much power had come into his hands.

His father's deteriorating health had forced him to start thinking seriously about what could happen in the not-too-distant future.

About what would happen if his father died.

He didn't trust this whore, his half-sister, the mother of the fucking bastards.

He didn't believe that she would take power peacefully.

The thought that Luke, as her son, could empower himself, feel he had the right to command him, made him boil inside as if lava, not blood, was flowing inside him.

No, he could not allow that to happen.

No bastard, no Lord Strong could stand in his way.

When his mother informed them at the council meeting that Vaemond Velaryon had officially questioned his right to inherit Driftmark, he barely restrained himself from a low, wicked chuckle.

He thought the gods were cruel, but just.

He felt a hot excitement bordering on madness at the thought of seeing him again; Luke didn't know how well prepared he was for this encounter.

He felt darkness spread through his heart like a vine, a desire to fulfil the prayer that he had made before the gods of his ancestors in his temple of Fire and Blood.

He didn't share his thoughts with his wife.

He didn't want to frighten her.

She knew that something had changed, that his tense body was filled with aggressive anticipation, that his silence, even greater than usual, was a sign of the calm before the storm.

That something inside him was waiting to explode, to destroy everything around him, including them.

Even in moments of such overwhelming rage and the desire to kill that besmirched his heart, she calmed him down with her understanding silence, her soft touch, her gentle gaze.

He fucked her like a crazy, wanting to assure her in this way that the absence of his words did not mean a lack of desire from his side.

He needed the heat of her body more than ever, the thought of her, falling asleep filled to the brim with his spend, calmed him down.

She was his.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics

Others: @dreamymoomin @thedamewithabook @dc-marvel-girl96 @zillahvathek @helaenaluvr @tssf-imagines @heavenly1927 @hiatuswhore @it-is-getting-better @linkpk88 @luna-salem @toodlesxcuddles @happinessinthebeing @siriusblackrunmeover17 @alaaaaaaa @ladybug0095 @barbiegirlaemond @random-ocity

[sprout-fics]

From the previous vampire!Gaz thot drabble, his new prize lover cant drink his blood or theyll become like him, what if they accidentally bit too hard? Not accidentally but they thought about what he said about wanting to stay together forever, but didn't consider that his lover is human so they took it upon themselves to try and become like him?

I've had this sitting in my inbox for WAY TOO LONG anon I am SO sorry.

It’s a curse to love a vampire.

Love for you means red dripping into pristine white lace, wet gasps into dark skin, glinting pale fangs and the shine of gold that overtakes warm brown eyes. It means candle lit castle halls that you roam endlessly, hands tracing along flowering wallpaper and ancient murals of ages long past. It means you only ever dine alone, with his company and his plate empty of mortal food. It means you’ll age, unlike him, will eventually grow old and watch your body outgrow him. It means Gaz was here since before you loved him, and he’ll be here after you’ve gone. 

You try not to think about it. Neither of you speak of this curse that has befallen you. Neither of you speak of the fact that every time Gaz drinks from you that he’s leeching years off your life. You don’t speak of the fact that you offer yourself a willing sacrifice to his sacrilegious altar, expose yourself to his fangs and whisper his name in heavenly adoration. 

He’s refused to turn you. You asked only once, and Gaz’s eyes had turned to you in despair, grief for a lifetime of no end written across the warm brownness of his gaze. 

“You’ll never die.” He whispered to you, holding your face so he pressed a beloved kiss to your forehead. “You’d live and live and live only because you take the lives of others as you do.”

“I’d live with you.” You’d whispered in return, eyes closed as you tried to imagine your death without him. 

“You’d have to kill to do it.” He rasped, heart aching, holding your face between his palms. “I don’t want that, and neither do you.”

You hadn’t asked again. 

Yet as time passed, as you woke in the mornings without him and felt the ache of loneliness dwell between your ribs, you wondered if you’d spend the rest of your life like this. You’d grow old and grey and he would remain unchanging, youthful and beautiful even in his danger. 

It’s in a fit of despair that you do it. 

You're seized with emotion as he drinks from you, fangs sucking against your neck as he makes little wanting sounds of pleasure. Braced in his lap, your nose buries into the skin of his shoulder, brow scrunched with mild discomfort. Every drop of crimson he drinks down is another hour, another day you won’t get to spend with him- a lifetime cut short for the curse of loving something you aren’t.

He’s warned you before that you can bite him, but you can never break the skin. He can drink your blood, but for you to drink his is to inhale his curse, to change yourself into something far beyond mortal, a creature of the night like himself. It would be excruciating as your body rewrites itself from the inside out, and the hunger-

You see a vision of him laying your withered form in red thorny roses in the graveyard, of using them to pierce his heart in his grief. 

You bite down onto his skin. 

…Red.

Like the molten interior of a dormant volcano now rising to the surface, it explodes across your tongue. Yet you swallow, feel the fire of it course down into your stomach and set it ablaze in violent attrition. Gaz’s yell of surprise and pain is muffled by the sudden blinding  pain that erupts across your form, mouth dropping open in a ragged, breathless gasp as your body seizes in rebellion of the crimson curse you’ve swallowed. It steals the breath from your lungs in consuming heat, makes you throw your head back and gaze at the canopy of his bed unseeingly. 

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts unlike anything you’ve ever felt in your life, an incomparable pain that you think will consume you instead of change you. Your scarlet stained mouth parts in a feverish, wrecked cry as Gaz hauls you from his form, lays you into the silk sheets and braces above you. The world spins, and the only thing you can focus on is him.

His eyes are full of grief. 

“What have you done?! He asks in cracked despair, raising a hand to your face. It burns. 

You want to tell him you did it for you both, that you want to be here with him forever, that you can’t stand another daylight without him. 

You want to tell him you love him.

Instead you arch off the bed in a soundless scream, his blood dripping down your chin as the curse lays itself against the marrow of your bones. You feel the wetness of his tears drip onto your cheeks, hear the wail of his voice as he holds you through the pain. 

“What have you done?”

[screamingcrows]

Taken Care of - Cyno x fem reader

Note: Never let me live down that my first piece of fanfiction (not counting the awful slow burn Sylvanas x Jaina from Warcraft I made as a 13 year old) was for Cyno more than a year ago for the explicit purpose of cracking a joke. I've since edited a bit, and felt like uploading it here to have my writing in one spot, consider this an updated version. Tags: fem!reader, crackfic, pun so bad I got hate anons, reader is a student, reader has a dendro vision, established relationship, suggestive at the end, fluff

It was your first time venturing further into the desert than Aaru village, and you had honestly been dreading this trip ever since it became clear that you would have to go on it. The scorching heat made you wish that you could've either kept your mouth shut or at the very least swallowed your pride and backed out. 

All you had wanted to do, was pick a poorly understood subject for your thesis. Not an unreasonable wish by any means. Being an Amurta student, you'd practically had your ears cried full of withering zones and the different families of fungi. And you'd had enough of that, not wanting to spend your entire life studying some obscure detail just for your research to be 'new'. 

So you'd pitched an idea to your supervisor, you wanted to investigate what effect proximity to an oasis had on the evolutionary path of scarabs. After some bickering back and forth, they had agreed to let you pursue this, but under the condition that you were willing to change subject if you'd made no substantial progress within two months. It had now been one month and the only discovery you'd made was, that the literature on scarabs, or anything from the desert really, was sparse at best.

That's how you ended here, boots full of sand, dry skin, probably a good sunburn, and more than a little bitter. But samples wouldn't collect themselves, and a field trip was the only way around your lack of reference material. You rubbed at your tired eyes, regretting it immediately when sand got into them. 

At least Cyno had offered to escort you, not liking the thought of anyone else being responsible for your safety. Of course, as soon as rumor spread that the General Mahamatra was taking leave to escort a student around the desert, you were met with more than a little malice from your peers. You'd done what you could to keep the relation subtle, but avoiding all suspicion was impossible. 

The first morning out of Aaru village you woke to an unfamiliar sight. What appeared to be a mercenary standing with their back towards you, Cyno's jackal helmet laying discarded in the sand.

"What did you do to the white haired man? Speak, or I will set you ablaze!" Your voice shook more than what you'd have like as you scrambled to get up, it would have to do.

"A single night, and already my precious flower has turned into a cactus" 

As always, Cyno's voice was even, but you had known him far too long to not notice the subtle hint of amusement in his tone. When he turned to face you, the satisfied smirk he wore only fueled your annoyance at his antics.

"And what would you have done if I decided to attack first and ask questions later?"

"My flower, you have a dendro vision... Explain to me how you plan on charring me? Regardless, I do feel confident in my ability to dodge a sleepy student in uneven terrain." 

"Fine. Just warn me before you pull such a tasteless prank again" 

"This? No.. I.. I mean... I heard what they were saying behind your back. This way, you can say that your escort was just another mercenary." 

You noticed a light flush across his cheeks, and with that all your irritation dissipated. 

The second day went smoothly, Cyno surprisingly being able to guide you to many groupings of scarabs, sheepishly explaining that he had always found them fascinating.

By the third day in the dunes, you were both tired. Cyno kept insisting that he would keep watch for most of the night so that you could be well rested for your fieldwork. He was undoubtedly hiding the exhaustion better than you, but the slight drag of his feet as you walked towards the next observation spot gave him away. 

That and how he had been cursing at his hair for getting in his eyes all morning. You couldn't help but giggle at the memory of the oh-so-dignified General Mahamatra fumbling about in the morning sun, swatting at his hair while threatening to cut it off unless it behaved. He had undoubtedly thought you asleep.

"If you have breath to spare on laughing, we should be going faster" his voice sounded like he had been inhaling sand instead of air. You couldn't help the whine that left your lips at the thought of your already tired legs picking up the pace.

"Cyno, I'm just a feeble scholar, I wasn't made for field work"

This statement caused him to stop dead in his tracks and turn around with a wicked grin.

"Really? Because in my experience-" 

You cut him off by slapping a hand over his mouth, already knowing his next words. A small shiver crept down your spine feeling how dry his lips had become. Looking into his eyes, his exhaustion became increasingly clear to you. He'd been working himself half to death before going with you, and this clearly wasn't the break you had hoped it would be for him.

"We are stopping at the next oasis we reach. Research be damned, I need a rest,"

Convincing him to stop was easier than you'd imagined. The determination in your voice having no doubt helped, even if he didn't know the underlying reason for the sudden outburst. You plopped down with your back against a palm, closing your eyes and relishing in the shade the overhanging leaves provided. As you opened your eyes, a deep frown settled on your lips, there your idiot was, standing guard in the sun. 

Gently pressing a hand to the trunk behind you, you decided to not give him the opportunity of refusing a rest. The roots sprung to life and crept towards your beloved General. In one fell swoop they wrapped around his ankles and pulled, causing him to fall to the ground. He merely let out an exasperated groan and did his best to flip onto his back to avoid getting a mouthful of sand. 

As he came to rest with his head in your lap the roots gently untangled themselves from his golden skin and disappeared back into the sandy ground. You wasted no time gaining access to his white mane of hair as you started gently scratching at his scalp. Cyno practically purred at the action, letting his eyes remain closed, it was almost obscene to watch as his face contorted until a peaceful expression finally settled in his features. 

"You are a wicked, wicked woman," he couldn't fight the smile on his lips even as he tried to sound stern. Your only response was a soft kiss to his cheek, only serving to have him melt further into your soft form. 

"If anyone sneaks up on us I am blaming you," this time his tone was more serious, but with the sleepy expression on his face you only rolled your eyes at him and mumbled a quick apology.

"Worry not General, I'll keep watch while you rest" as you gave him a final pat on the head, you moved to get up, only to be met with Cyno holding you down with an impressive amount of strength given his state. A hand snaked up your body and closed around one of your breasts, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Don't go, it seems we have plenty of securi-titty"

You sat back down in utter shock, remaining completely quiet as you tried to process the words that had left his mouth.

"Ahem. You see, I took the words security and ti-" You cut him off with a loud snort followed by laughter.

"It seems you will be to blame if we are ambushed General," Your amused tone made his ears take on a reddish tint. Cyno looked up at you with eyes full of adoration.

"For this, I am willing to take the chance of being caught unaware" 

He grabbed your hips and pulled until you were laying next to each other. After a little while in silence, Cyno's breathing evened out as he fell into a light sleep. A content sigh passed your lips as you settled against him, satisfied with the outcome. 

[talonabraxas]

"The Kiss" by Artus Scheiner Hymn to Pan by John Keats "O thou, whose mighty palace roof doth hang From jagged trunks, and overshadoweth Eternal whispers, glooms, the birth, life, death Of unseen flowers in heavy peacefulness; Who lov'st to see the hamadryads dress Their ruffled locks where meeting hazels darken; And through whole solemn hours dost sit, and hearken The dreary melody of bedded reeds-- In desolate places, where dank moisture breeds The pipy hemlock to strange overgrowth; Bethinking thee, how melancholy loth Thou wast to lose fair Syrinx--do thou now, By thy love's milky brow! By all the trembling mazes that she ran, Hear us, great Pan! "O thou, for whose soul-soothing quiet, turtles Passion their voices cooingly 'mong myrtles, What time thou wanderest at eventide Through sunny meadows, that outskirt the side Of thine enmossed realms: O thou, to whom Broad leaved fig trees even now foredoom Their ripen'd fruitage; yellow girted bees Their golden honeycombs; our village leas Their fairest blossom'd beans and poppied corn; The chuckling linnet its five young unborn, To sing for thee; low creeping strawberries Their summer coolness; pent up butterflies Their freckled wings; yea, the fresh budding year All its completions--be quickly near, By every wind that nods the mountain pine, O forester divine! "Thou, to whom every faun and satyr flies For willing service; whether to surprise The squatted hare while in half sleeping fit; Or upward ragged precipices flit To save poor lambkins from the eagle's maw; Or by mysterious enticement draw Bewildered shepherd to their path again; Or to tread breathless round the frothy main, And gather up all fancifullest shells For thee to tumble into Naiads' cells, And, being hidden, laugh at their out-peeping; Or to delight thee with fantastic leaping, The while they pelt each other on the crown With silvery oak apples, and fir cones brown-- By all the echoes that about thee ring, Hear us, O satyr king! "O Hearkener to the loud clapping shears, While ever and anon to his shorn peers A ram goes bleating: Winder of the horn, When snouted wild-boars routing tender corn Anger our huntsmen: breather round our farms, To keep off mildews, and all weather harms. Strange ministrant of undescribed sounds, That come a swooning over hollow grounds, And wither drearily on barren moors: Dread opener of the mysterious doors Leading to universal knowledge--see, Great son of Dryope, The many that are come to pay their vows With leaves about their brows! "Be still the unimaginable lodge For solitary thinkings; such as dodge Conception to the very bourne of heaven, Then leave the naked brain: be still the leaven, That spreading in this dull and clodded earth Gives it a touch ethereal--a new birth: Be still a symbol of immensity; A firmament reflected in a sea; An element filling the space between, An unknown--but no more: we humbly screen With uplift hands our foreheads, lowly bending, And giving out a shout most heaven rending, Conjure thee to receive our humble Paean, Upon thy Mount Lycean!"

[mncxbe]

I suddenly thought of something really angsty.. imagine Aku with hanahaki disease..? He's definitely not the type who'll propose to their crush unless they know that their crush likes them back..

Yes omg. Sorry it took so long to write anon but it's finally done. Hope you like it♡♡

°☆○

Bloom for me

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst♤/ happy ending cuz he's been through enough already

The wind rustled the trees in the park; the new leaves stood out tender and yellow against grey clouds. With each day that passed, autumn crept deeper into the heart of the city. Days were shorter, nights grew longer and a tinge of putrid leaves lingered in the air, mixing with the smoky smell of exhaust fumes.

As he walked down the main alley of the park, which was lined with withering cherry trees, Akutagawa couldn't help but marvel at the irony of faith: as the trees in Yokohama slowly wilted, a flower bloomed inside his lungs.

Playing it off as a mere cold, he had managed to hide his disease for the last two months but the sharp pain in his chest grew stronger by the day. Sometimes he'd wake up in the middle of the night and cough up a bunch of rosy petals, cursing under his breath and hoping that Gin wouldn't wake up and come check up on him. He would then gather the petals in the palm of his shaky hand and throw them out of the window, watching them fade away in the night.

Akutagawa managed to keep the symptoms of his illness under control, to ignore the pain; but it all got worse once he started seeing you again.

You...

He never once blamed you for his disease. The fact that a flower was blooming inside his lungs was soley his fault, the result of his deluded hopes and dreams. Of his feelings. And he was going to live and die with it.

That's what he believed until he saw you sitting on a wooden bench beneath the cherry trees; legs crossed as you slowly turned the pages of a paper bound volume; Murakami's "Norwegian wood"

For a moment he was transfixed. His cold gaze watched as the wind gently combed through your hair. You bit your lip and narrowed your eyes- probably in attempt to make sense of a sentence in the book- and his heart sank. Beautiful, you were so beautiful...

Still, the mafioso planned to walk away before you had a chance to spot him. Turning on his heels, he took a few steps back in the direction he came from before a violent coughing fit took over him. The sheer amount of pain he was in caused him to lean forward, pressing a hand to his aching chest as he panted hard.

"Akutagawa?" sounded your voice from behind and he cursed himself for being so reckless. Of course he'd feel worse around you.

"Oh God are you ok?" you asked again, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. You were close, so, so close.

Akutagawa clasped a hand over his mouth in attempt to keep the blossoms from spilling out but to no avail; a few roseate buds rolled past his parted lips and onto the leaf covered pavement.

Without wasting a second you hooked a hand under his arm and guided him to the closest bench, lightly patting his back until the coughing stopped.

The two of you spent a few minutes in silence before you finally gathered the courage to speak up.

"Are you alright?" you asked softly and he nodded.

"Yea. I am now. Thanks." he replied, barely able to contain his embrassment. How could he be so stupid? He should've walked away the moment he spotted you. Now you had discovered his shameful secret.

"Hey Akutagawa" you spoke again in the same gentle voice as you undid the lid of a thermos and handed it to him. "Have some tea. It may help."

He obeyed, taking the flask from your hands and bringing it to his lips; the liquid was warm and sweet, aiding his burning throat. The man took another sip before returning your thermos and mumbling a "Thanks Y/N."

"You're welcome"

"Well... I should go now. I need to catch my train" he said eventually as he watched you from the corner of his eyes.

"Oh sure. Want me to walk you to the station?"

He shook his head dismissively and forced a smile "No, there's no need. You can go back to your book"

"Alright then. Have a great day"

Akutagawa slowly rose from the bench, trying his best to ignore the burning sensation in his chest as he bid you farewell.

"Oh by the way..." you added, causing him to stop dead in his tracks.

"Yes?"

"Your secret is safe with me"

You spoke the last words so gently, flashing him that smile he so adored and oh, he swore his heart was going to melt. Instead he simply nodded, returning the smile before making his way to the train station.

That night he slept better than he did in ages. Sleep was deep and for the first time in ages he wasn't haunted by dreams or symptoms of his disease.

When he woke up the next morning, golden rays dappling inside his bedroom like mist, there were no more petals, no more blossoms. And he could breathe freely again.

[inyourwildestdreams22]

Going off of what anon said they believe her dress will be perishable like real flowers, I also think that and since the theme is a garden of time, how to show a passage of time if not by a dress that shows beautiful blooming flowers that slowly start to decay and wither away towards the end/one side of the dress. One side healthy blooming, other side, umbre effect of dying flowers to dead black flowers.

And also for the museum the theme has been waking up sleeping beauties, and they have been displaying vintage dresses or garments that were once strong beauties but now is slowly decaying and over time will continue to wither away and not stand the test of time. So I feel like that idea could represent both themes, as her dress could be a beauty that will soon be no more.

But idk, it would be hard to pre make that dress with real flowers so it has to be made closer to the gala, and also Law has been saying they've been busy and didn't have anything planned 🤔 tells me it's probably an already made vintage, I just beg and plead its not ysl 1999 flower swim suit 😭😭. If they go vintage I want an archival gown, maybe a Dior.

That would be interesting if they manage to make one of real flowers but it also seems like it would be difficult to mantain, we’ll see, I’m super curious

[baiwu-jinji]

i finished yuwu today. in shambles rn ;-;

Hi! Anon I will try to catch up! I'm still on chapter 103 haha. I heard Yuwu is even more devestating than 2ha in some ways so I'm bracing myself...

I've always enjoyed Meatbun's analogies and imageries, and there's a Yuwu paragraph I really liked which I translated so I'm just gonna put the translation here:

He's like a laurel tree that sprouted many years before Mo Xi, and has always been Mo Xi's shelter from wind and rain. While Mo Xi is a cypress tree, or a pine tree, or any other type of tree that's born for greatness.

Whether Mo Xi felt his aspirations crushed or his circumstances helpless, it was only because he wasn't fully grown. Before that, Gu Mang had always watched over him, glared at the fierce winds that plotted to bend and break the sapling, and shaking his branches brimming with flowers, had said: leave him alone and come at me with your blasts.

Later, the pine seedling grew up into a towering tree touching the heavens, but the laurel tree that accompanied him in his youth, being a laurel tree by birth, remained small and slight and his inferior in height.

This is preordained by fate; the ending was already written in the beginning.

Bit by bit, the laurel tree started to look up to the cypress tree and live in its shadow. Later on, it could no longer compete with other towering trees; it recieved neither nourishment nor sunlight.

Its splendid flowers bloomed no more.

Even later, its roots became rotten, its branches and leaves shrivelled and curled up, and it withered.

Nobody will believe that a small tree as bent and sickly as this once sheltered the cypress tree - so mighty now that it touches the heavens and blocks out the sun - from wind and rain, frost and snow.

Only in its own rotten heart of wood, it still remembers the cypress tree when it was a sapling, so young and frail. So it fell down one day, turned into mud, into dirt, into ashes; and it still chose to become the spring soil under his feet, to take care of him out of habit, even when taking care of him is out of its depth.

Gu Mang taking care of Mo Xi is an instinct, so deep-rooted as if it's carved in his bones.

[cnnmairoll]

HII! I don’t know if you know jing yuans lore, but I’d you don’t this will have some slight spoilers for it.

Okay so, if your willing to write hurt/no comfort, may I request one where with jing yuan in which he knows reader likes him and he likes the reader too, but he has a huge fear he will “loose” the reader, because of how many of his friends died.

This can also still be a hurt/comfort situation, and I don’t mind which one you choose. Thank you <3

Eternal Regret

Pairing : Jing Yuan x Reader Genre : Angst, Hurt/No Comfort a/n : Sure thing anon! Angst is not what I usually write so I tried my best with this one! hope this is to your liking! ^_^

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦.

In the quiet, moonlit chambers of the Xianzhou Luofu fortress, where the hushed whispers of secrets and the weight of history intertwined, your heartache found its dwelling. Unseen, unspoken, it brewed in the caverns of your soul, a bitter elixir of longing and despair. And at the center of it all, like a shadow cast in moonlight, stood General Jing Yuan.

Jing Yuan and his indolent demeanor was a well-crafted facade, hiding the depth of his emotions, the tumultuous sea of his thoughts. You knew this because you were drawn into those depths, your heart ensnared by the man who commanded the Cloud Knights.

In the beginning, it had been subtle, like the first stirrings of a storm on a distant horizon. The stolen glances across the training grounds, the fleeting brushes of fingers when exchanging scrolls—innocent enough to be dismissed as mere coincidence, yet heavy with unspoken desire. You were entangled in a love that dared not speak its name, for to do so was to risk the consequences.

But you had sensed it, hadn't you? The unspoken truth in the way he looked at you, in the rare moments of vulnerability that flickered across his face like lightning in the night. You knew that Jing Yuan felt something too, something profound, something that had the potential to bind you together.

Yet, like a fragile thread threatening to snap, that connection remained fragile, on the precipice of breaking, and you didn't understand why. Why did he pull away when it seemed that your love was mutual? Why did he keep you at arm's length, even as his heartache mirrored your own?

The answer, as you would come to know, lay in the scars of his past. It was a past haunted by countless battles, by comrades lost to the relentless march of time. Jing Yuan was a long-life species, a being that had witnessed centuries of life and death, a soul that had been battered and bruised by the passage of ages.

He had loved before, you realized, loved deeply and irrevocably, only to watch those he cherished wither away into dust. Friends, lovers, allies—all gone, their laughter and their warmth fading into distant memories. The weight of those losses had etched a profound fear into his heart, a fear that paralyzed him, made him hesitate to embrace the love that stood before him.

In his mind, you were another fragile life, another potential tragedy waiting to unfold. And so, he pushed you away, gently but persistently, like a boat adrift in treacherous waters, afraid that the storm would consume you as it had consumed so many before.

But you, you were not content to be cast aside, not content to watch your love wither and die like a flower denied the sun's embrace. You yearned to understand, to break through the walls he had erected around his heart. You pleaded, you whispered words of affection, you bared your own vulnerabilities in the hopes that he would do the same.

But Jing Yuan, bound by his fear, remained resolute in his solitude. He watched you with eyes that spoke of a love he dared not indulge, and in his silence, he shattered your heart anew with each passing day.

It was a slow descent into anguish, a painful dance of yearning and rejection. You loved him, and he loved you, and yet the chasm between you seemed insurmountable. The fortress walls that guarded his heart were unyielding, and the silent tears you shed in the stillness of the night were your only companions in this wretched tragedy.

In the end, the fear that haunted Jing Yuan had become a self-fulfilling prophecy. You were lost to him, not by death, but by the choice to forsake the love that had blossomed in the shadows. And as you walked away, your heart heavy with sorrow, you knew that you would forever be haunted by the ghost of a love that had never truly been allowed to flourish.

In the depths of the Xianzhou Luofu fortress, the General watched as you disappeared into the night, his heart heavy with the weight of his own regrets. And as the tears you had shed glistened in the moonlight, he knew that he had lost not just a love, but the chance for his own heart to awaken from its long slumber.

In the years that followed, Jing Yuan became a solitary figure, a ghost of the man he once was. The fortress that had been his sanctuary became his prison, and the memories of you haunted him like a relentless specter. He had pushed you away out of fear, but in doing so, he had condemned himself to a life of endless sorrow.

And as the centuries passed, he watched as empires rose and fell, as wars came and went, but nothing could fill the void that you had left behind. He longed for the touch of your hand, the sound of your laughter, the warmth of your presence, but all that remained were the echoes of a love that had been lost in the shadows. And in the deepest recesses of his heart, he knew that he had paid the price for his fear, a price that would haunt him for all eternity.

[warrior-names]

Long Warrior Prefixes & Suffixes

"Long" in this case means prefixes that are 3+ syllables and/or 7+ letters, and suffixes that are 2+ syllables and/or 6+ letters! Thanks to long anon for the suggestion (and sorry to long anon for the nickname)!

80+ prefixes and 20+ suffixes under the cut!

Prefixes

A

Azalea-

B

Belladonna-

Blackberry-

Blizzard-

Blossom-

Blueberry-

Brambling-

Bumblebee-

Butterfly-

C

Canary-

Cardinal-

Carmine-

Carnation-

Catfish-

Celandine-

Chamomile-

Chestnut-

Chickadee-

Chickweed-

Chipmunk-

Chokecherry-

Chrysanthemum-

Cranberry-

Currant-

D

Daffodil-

Damselfly-

Dandelion-

Dappled-

Dogwood-

Dragonfly-

F

Foxglove-

Freckle-

Freckled-

G

Goldenrod-

Grackle-

H

Hedgehog-

Hellebore-

Hemlock-

Hickory-

Honeysuckle-

Huckleberry-

Hyacinth-

J

Jackdaw-

Juneberry-

Juniper-

L

Larkspur-

Licorice-

M

Magnolia-

Mangrove-

Marigold-

Mugwort-

Mulberry-

Mushroom-

N

Nightshade-

O

Oleander-

Oriole-

P

Pokeberry-

Primrose-

Puffball-

R

Raccoon-

Ragwort-

Raspberry-

S

Sequoia-

Shattered-

Sparrow-

Speckle-

Speckled-

Spotted-

Squirrel-

Starling-

Strawberry-

Sugarplum-

Sunflower-

Sweetgum-

Sycamore-

T

Tadpole-

Tattered-

Tortoise-

W

Whispering-

Withered-

Suffixes

B

bounce

bracken

bumble

burrow

D

dapple

F

feather

flight

flower

flutter

freckle

P

pounce

R

ripple

rumble

S

shimmer

smudge

speckle

spirit

splash

stream

T

tunnel

W

whisker

whisper

[englishsub]

fic writer meme!

i was tagged by @microcomets and @cairoscene :) thank you friendz

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

22, which is both more and less than i expected.

2. what's your total ao3 wordcount?

529,320

3. what fandoms do you write for?

i've branched out in recent years; like my fellow taggers, i write for fewer fandoms that i'm in. food takes ages to cook and even longer to actually commit to. i started with mdzs/cql and tgcf before moving to shl/tyk, though now i mostly write trigun and video game fic.

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

爱不释手; never let me go

总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near)

花无百日红; the flower that withers

在此恭迎夷陵老祖; to yiling laozu, the great and venerable

蓝色生死恋; a blue love (to live and to die for)

me 🤝 cair wangxian monopoly

5. do you respond to comments?

not usually - if the comment jumps out in some way or asks a question about podficcing i might, but i generally don't. i read every single one and hold them close to my heart, though.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

LOL it's an open ending but the implications are pretty clear - 美丽的日子; beautiful days

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

most of them end happy, except when they don't :)

8. do you get hate on fics?

not really. i did for a stint back in 2021 when that anon was going around but it was honestly very funny for me.

9. do you write smut?

sometimes.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you have written?

just the one time, not usually. it was a threadfic - a mdzs/tgcf crossover where wwx was raised by hualian instead of the jiangs.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

yeah. the good ole ctrl+f+replace of names. i remember they even stole my author's note. i'd said something to the effect of "i have to go study..." (i was in high school) and they added "which i didn't even end up doing..."

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

yes and i think fic translation is so cool!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope.

14. what's your all time favorite ship?

EVER?

pirates of the caribbean will/elizabeth.

but it's honestly a rotating rotisserie throughout life of my fav ships depending on what i'm hungry for at a given moment. it's 2024 and i'm back in ff7 hell, for instance.

15. what is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

歃血; blood oath, and it pains me deeply to admit. not because i have any measure of anxiety about returning to it, or feel any pressure, but because it genuinely had one of my favorite premises and setups, was super gory and horrific, and i'd packed in every crazy trope i love into the outline. i was really excited about. then the fandom imploded and i can't look at it anymore.

she's my white whale. i'd finish it for @megafaunatic alone.

16. what are your writing strengths?

atmosphere. payoff. saying things are like other things. i understand this is annoying for some people though, which is fair.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i put off every single sex scene in a fic until i had written everything else, such that i had to sit and write 10,000 words, spread across three scenes, of sex. worst week of my life.

internal logic, because i think it's so obvious in my head that i forget to explain it in words on the page.

i think i always can improve on character voice. that's an eternal work in progress.

18. thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

it's cool. probably good to consult a native speaker if writer of the fic doesn't speak it, though?

19. first fandom you wrote for?

christ. harry potter, by hand, in pencil, in an a5 notebook.

20. favorite fic you have written?

recency bias compels me to say by the time the apocalypse began, because i worked my ass and head off for it, and i ended up really happy with how it turned out. sci-fi's not really my wheelhouse.

i have a huge soft spot for my clj arranged marriage fic, 双命; twin fates, because i had such a blast writing it. and 总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) will always be special to me, because it was like taking a huge, glittering, orgasmic shit.

i believe quite a few people have already been cross-tagged but i will tag you guys again for fun: @yuebings @cafecliche @dcyiyou @vinelark @floofyfluff @ziusik