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save-a-forest-ride-a-bear · 2 days

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Heya!!

So I'm a little obsessed with the secret relationship trope... i was wondering if you could do an Astarion x reader secret relationship but maybe during a fight, reader dies and has to be revivified? And Astarion freaks out, like he goes semiferal and histerical?

Maybe it could be during the fight with his siblings at camp so now Cazador knows he has someone he holds dear (even if Astarion doesn't want to admit it yet) which is what they were trying to avoid?

Thank you so much!!!!

🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ All I Want ❛ ✧

Featuring: Astarion x Reader

Not proofread!

# Notes: I'm not too good with drabbles but I rly like this idea so I decided to try! also no use of "y/n" because I'll be honest I'm not a fan of it lmao

It was his idea to keep the relationship a secret.

He knew how that sounded — like he was ashamed of his partner, like he didn't want anyone to know for the sake of his reputation. That wasn't true, and he assured them of it. It was simply a precaution, something to protect them both. Now that they arrived at Baldur's Gate and are closer to Cazador than ever, he couldn't take any chances. Not when it came to them, at least.

He wasn't used to this — caring about someone other than himself. It was always about his survival, but now he had someone else to worry about. Someone whose life was worth a lot more than his own. Someone he couldn't afford to lose.

So, he kept it a secret. It wasn't exactly easy to go about their day pretending to be nothing more than companions, friends at most. Ever since they got together, he realized just how starved he was for any kind of attention, any kind of affection. Having to refrain from touching them too much or being his usual, flirty self hasn't been a simple feat. But he knew how important it was that they kept things under wraps.

His feet were killing him after a long day of adventuring, from Wyrm's Crossing all the way to the Lower City. At least they managed to avoid some confrontation for today, so he had one less thing to complain about. They got settled in an inn and he managed to sneak out for a few seconds with his partner to at least get a good night's kiss. He wanted more, but knew that would have to suffice.

The others had already fallen asleep, but he remained tossing and turning. Something felt off. He wasn't sure what, but his nerves were on end, like his fight or flight response had picked up on something he himself hadn't yet. Perhaps that was for the best, as it allowed him to notice the sound of footsteps early enough to stand up and grab a dagger. His hand shook slightly, wrapped around the handle of the weapon as two familiar faces walked in. He felt sick. He knew what they were here to do.

"Get the hells away from me!" It wasn't quite a yell, but definitely loud enough to wake the others. He instinctively took a few steps back, trying to maintain a distance far enough to deceive his brain into believing that he was somewhat safe. "Peace, brother. We're here to take you home." Aurelia uttered somewhat gently, but it almost made him puke. Brother. Home. Just the notion of it made him dizzy with disgust. The Szarr Palace wasn't his home, and these goons were not his family — he was tired of playing along with this fucked up game of pretend.

It didn't take long for a fight to break out, despite his attempts at deception. He should've known Cazador wouldn't let him off easy. Karlach was the first to react, letting out a guttural scream of rage as she charged at Violet. The axe cut through flesh before the spawn could realize what was happening, getting stuck where it met bone. She screamed, but was soon silenced by another blow. While it was supposed to be lethal, she simply vanished into a cloud of black smoke instead of dropping dead on the ground.

Leon was next, aiming for the person who was closest to where he stood which, to Astarion's despair, happened to be his darling. The spawn's claws slashed their skin open, blood splattering on the floor as they yelped in pain. Astarion didn't think — he simply acted, pouncing on Leon only to drive his dagger through his heart one, two, three times, until he too vanished into thin air. He snapped his head back in their direction just in time to see Yousen sneaking up, grabbing them from behind and sinking his teeth into their neck. The scream, the way their eyes squeezed shut in agony and their hands clawed against the spawn holding them still was enough to make Astarion see red.

He hardly remembered moving. But he did remember the screams. Not from his darling, but from his brother, as he drove the dagger into the side of his neck and twisted it. He looked back at his lover again, but the dark cloud from Yousen obscured his vision. He didn't hear screaming anymore. Only his ears ringing slightly and the sound of laboured breathing from his companions.

When he could finally see again, he almost wished he couldn't. That'd be better than the sight of his beloved's body sprawled out on the floor atop a pool of blood, their empty, cold eyes gazing into his soul. He rushed to their side despite his shaking legs, stumbling on his way there until he fell to his knees beside them. He raised their head by the back of their neck, resting it on top of his thigh. He hardly realized he was hyperventilating, hands shaking violently as he cradled one of their cheeks in his palm. "No, no... You can't die. Wake up, damn it!" He choked out, his voice rising from a whisper full of disbelief to a screech of the utmost despair.

Karlach too rushed to their side, fumbling with her bag with quivering hands. "H-Hold on, soldier, I think..." She stuttered out nervously before cutting herself off as she pulled a scroll of revivify from the bag. She knelt next to the two and placed the parchment atop the corpse's chest. It glowed a bright white light, seemingly seeping into their skin. There was a deafening silence for a few seconds when suddenly, they woke up with a loud gasp, eyes widening as life was brought back into their being.

The pale elf didn't waste a second before pulling them into a hug, not minding the blood staining his clothes. He hid his face in the crook of their neck, only a small sob and whisper being heard from him. "Oh, thank the gods... Please, please never do that again..." He choked out before pulling away from the embrace, cupping their cheek and pressing his lips against theirs. He never felt that before. That immense sense of hopelessness, agony and grief. Not to this level, not of this kind — and he'd make sure he never felt it again.

However, as he pulled away from the kiss, he saw something in the distance. Aurelia, bleeding out on the ground, watching them seconds before she too vanished into the darkness. If he still had a heart, it would have skipped a beat out of sheer terror alone. Cazador knew. He knew about his spawn's newfound love. And Astarion would have to be a fool not to expect his master to take advantage of that fact.

#bg3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion #astarion x reader

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vivwritesfics · 24 hours

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Bleeding From The Storm

Chapter Three - Maxie

After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.

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For three days, Max went back to that café. On the first day and the second day, Bunny wasn't there. She was nowhere to be found around Monaco. Max tried to search for her, but his search came up empty.

On the third day, Max was ready to give up.

He still went back to the café as he had every day since, hope slowly dying in his chest. As much as he wanted to taste one of her fruity drinks on his lips, he couldn't bring himself to order one, not unless it was her hands passing it to him. Max had stuck to bitter coffees that he didn't much like the taste of.

As he rounded the corner, walking towards the café, he stopped. After three days of desperate searching, there was Bunny.

She was in a different dress this time, a pink one that made her look positively angelic. Her pretty lips were wrapped around the straw as her fingers, nails pink like her dress, wrapped around her glass.

Max flattened himself against the wall around the corner. As long as she couldn't see him. If she was alone, Max would have sauntered up to her, full of confidence and asked her out. He wanted to give her his number, to get to know Bunny even when he wasn't there in Monaco.

But she wasn't alone, was she? Max hated that he recognised the person she was with. Charles Fucking Leclerc. What the hell was she doing with Charles Leclerc? Did it mean she was from their world, too?

Max waited. He regularly checked around the corner, waiting for Charles to just piss off. He was getting antsy, and time was running out. Fuck, why did Charles have to be there?

At last, Charles stood up. He said something to Bunny, said something Max couldn't hear, and left. As soon as he disappeared inside of the café, Max pushed away from the wall and went striding towards her.

"Hey, Bunny," he said as he strode over to her and sat in Charles's seat.

Her eyes went wide and she looked at up him with a pretty smile. "Max, right?" She asked, her head resting in the palm of her hand.

He leaned forward, hands held together in front of him. "Listen, Bunny, I've got to go away for a little bit. But I would like to see you and I do want you to have my phone number," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket and passing it to her.

"Where are you going?" Bunny asked as she put her number into his phone and sent herself a text. "Anywhere nice?" A sultry smile crossed her lips, one Max was sure she didn't even realise she was wearing.

Max let out a chuckle and leaned back in his seat as he took the phone back from her. "I wish," he said with a chuckle, but he didn't elaborate further. He checked the time on his watch. "I've really got to go, Bunny. But I'll be back soon, I swear."

She sucked her smoothie through the straw and batted her lashes at him. "Goodbye, Maxie," she said and wiggled her fingers at him. It was an image Max never wanted to forget as he left, rushing away before Charles could catch him.

Not that Bunny knew. She kept watching Max, looking in his direction even after he'd disappeared. Her smoothie was quickly finished, just in time for Charles to sit back down opposite her.

"Was someone here?" He asked, immediately noticing the far away look in her eyes. She shook her head and went to drink more of the smoothie she had already finished. "Don't lie to me, Bunny."

"Nobody was here, Charles," she insisted. She looked down at her empty smoothie. "Can I get another?"

But Charles shook his head. "Sorry, Bun. But we've got places to be." He stood up and offered her his hand. She walked with, arm linked through his as they headed away from the café.

Charles led her to his car. He pulled open the passenger side door for her and held her hand as she climbed in, her free hand holding the skirts of her pretty pink dress down. Her head was against the window as she hummed along to the radio, leaving Charles to concentrate on driving.

How long had it been since Bunny Dupont had been back in France? She didn't know. But the scenery didn't look familiar as Charles drove her towards her fathers house.

Her phone buzzed in her little purse, but she didn't pick it up. Max was her little secret, for now, and she didn't want Charles to know. Charles would just put a stop to it, even if Max was a lovely guy. She drummed her nails against the purse in her lap as Charles pulled up to the gates that guarded her fathers house.

"Charlie," she mumbled, looking towards him. Charles out a hum, never tearing his eyes away from the road as the gates swung open. "What does he want this time?" She mumbled, eyes cast down at her lap.

Charles parked outside of the house, but he didn't climb out. He let out a sigh and turned towards her, his eyes kind. "I know, Bun," he said, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. It was more comforting than anything. "I'll be with you the entire time."

She climbed out the car and slipped her purse over her shoulder. Charles placed his hand on her shoulder as they walked up to the house.

It was incredibly strange that Charles had a key and she didn't. He let them into the house and pushed the door shut, locking it as soon as they stepped in.

She hated coming back to the house. The walls were lined with pictures, portraits of her brother. While her father was obsessed with her brothers death, he hadn't dwelled on it. After a year of desperately searching for his killer, they gave up. The statue of Louis Dupont she could see out in the garden had her shivering.

Charles kept his hand on the small of her back as he led her up the stairs. She had her own room in the house, but it had been untouched for years. The door remained partially open, revealing the pink and the soft toys that covered the room. It was a child's room, one she'd never felt safe in.

Her fathers office was at the very end of the hall. Charles knocked for her. He stood with his hands behind his back as they waited to be welcomed in.

As soon as Dupont called, Charles pushed open the door and let Bunny in. She pulled her skirts down as she approached her fathers desk.

"Hello, Darling," said Dupont. He stood from his desk and walked around to her, bringing Bunny into his arms. "How have you been?" He asked and kissed the top of her head.

Bunny stood, stiff as a board as her father returned to his chair. She didn't have much to say to her father; their relationship hadn't remained the same after Louis died. It had only gotten worse. "Listen, Bunny." For some unexplainable reason, she hated hearing her father call her that. "We have been invited to the Netherlands and I want you there with me."

"Mr Du-"

But Dupont fixed Charles with a look, one that had him falling silent.

"Papa," Bunny said as she stepped up to the desk. "I've never gone on a job before. Why do you want me?" She asked. "Why not take mom?"

Dupont let out a laugh, a mocking one that had Bunny's blood boiling. She hated it here. "Your mother used to be cut out for things like this, Bun, but not anymore. If I want to put my best foot forward, I have to bring my prettiest girl."

She couldn't stop the feeling of the bile rising. "Can Cha come with?" She asked as she reached her hand towards Charles.

A frown covered her fathers face. "Cha?" He asked. But then he saw the way she grabbed Charles arm. "No, Darling. Charles cannot come with us."

With her hands on her knees, she leaned over and threw up.

right so i've just discovered all of my tags on the last part didn't fucking work and i'm so mad about it

Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minseok-smaus @formulaal @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo @darleneslane @not-nyasa

Series taglist (CLOSED): @doofensmirtzevil-inc @styl1shl1v @dreamsarebig @bokutos-babyowl @minmira95 @booksandflowrs @spookystitchery @purplephantomwolf @minchedchilli @starssfall @mellowarcadefun @the-ghost-lovwr @solidalibi @graydahlia21 @st4rshine @iloveyou3000morgan @vicurious28 @evie-119 @bigratbitchsworld @closestthingtocoffee @maximofflove @sillygoose5 @purplephantomwolf @thehufflepuffavenger1 @thatsusbitch @annispamz

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raven2012 · 3 days

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-10 Years-

You were standing on the pitch looking at the people, standing in the stands.

It was the Champions League final of 2014.

Wolfsburg vs Barcelona.

This was your dream coming true, at seventeen you were playing for one of europe's biggest Womens football teams and you were on your way up.

You started warming up when you saw her, you were instantly mesmerized by the brunette beauty.

She was warming up and talking to a teammate when she laughed and you could see her beautiful smile.

You couldn't take your eyes off her until a teammate of yours told you to come to the tunnel and get ready to walk out.

Once you got into position in the tunnel, you saw her again.

But this time she caught you looking and shyly smiled at you.

Your heart fluttered, you desperately wanted to talk to her but now you had to focus on the upcoming final.

53rd Minute, the first half was boring other than a yellow card for your teammate Alex Popp, but now you were sprinting down the right wing. You dribbled past the defenders and shot, the ball was supposed to meet one of your teammates heads, but instead it flew further and curved over the keepers fingers into the goal.

You sprinted into the arms of your teammates, you couldn’t believe it you just shot your first Champions League goal, and that in a final.

After the game was over and you got your medals, you were standing on the field, looking around yourself and taking it all in.

You turned around and saw that beautiful smile that made your heart flutter. You quickly turned back around, hoping that she didn’t catch you staring at her.

Suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder, you turned around:,, Hola Hermosa’’ You were met with those beautiful eyes:,,H..hi’’ You stuttered and readiness shot up your face. ,, Would you maybe swap shirts with me?”, she spoke in with that beautiful accent of hers and your face only grew more red.

You quickly nodded and took off your shirt she followed and suddenly you were met with the body of a goddess and you couldn't tear your eyes away from her torso. You felt her looking up and down your body until she put your shirt on:,,Adios, hermosa, I'll see you again.” She leaned in and gave you a light kiss on the cheek.

You put her shirt on and tried to stop the blush that crept up your cheeks:,, Scheisse” you cursed at the realization that you had a crush, a crush on a hot spanish lady who is on the way to being on of the best footballers ever known in history. You really were in deep shit.

You were playing at Olympic Lyon now.

And as history likes it, it was the Champions league final of 2018 and you met Alexia , now your Girlfriend, at the stadium.

It was actually quite funny to you that you kept your relationship a secret for almost 3 years now. No one knew, only a few close family members. You both were in your own bubble, you flew over to Barcelona as often as you could and Ale came over as often as she could.

Your love life were lazy mornings, secret messages and meetings.

That’s how you found yourself in this situation. In a storage closet of the stadium you were playing in.

Ales lips were on yours and your hands on her waist:,, I missed you so much Amor’’

She kissed along your ear while whispering. ,,Me too Schatz. I love you so much Schatz’’, Your head snuggled into the crook of her neck and you just enjoyed the warmth that radiated off her, she loved when you used her as a human pillow. You would randomly lay your head on her lap or her shoulder or bury it in the crook of her neck.

,,,How long do you think we can keep this up? I mean like staying a secret?’’, you ask the love of your life because that's what she was, the love of your life and you were so freaking sure of that.

She kisses your head:,, As long as we want to mi amor’’ We stayed like this for a few more minutes before we went our separate ways to our changing rooms.

It was all over now. Lyon won the champions league. you did it again, your second champions league title.

After you let that sink in you realized the love of your life just lost the champions league final. The next thing you did was walk over to your love and close your arms around her:,,You played so well my love. You were amazing. I love you so much.’’

She looked up and you saw the tears in her eyes. You quickly looked around if anyone could hear you: ,, I love you mi amor. And you're not sleeping at your hotel tonight. You will come home with me and then i’ll let you do whatever you want to me.’’ I whispered the last bit into her ear and could immediately see her smirk and the lust in her eyes.

,, Sí, mi amor. Te amo.’’,with that Ale went back to her teammates.

The next morning you were really happy to have the day off because you literally couldn’t walk after Alexia had her fun with you…

After months of hard work it was finally the off season and you had booked a romantic getaway for you and your girlfriend. You planned everything months in advance.

You wanted it to be perfect because in a few hours you would propose to the love of your life.

The hotel room had been decorated by the staff in a very romantic manner. Rose petals were laid down in a heart shape on the balcony.

From the balcony you could directly see the Eiffel Tower.

After your flight and a short taxi ride you and Alexia stood in front of the hotel room door. Before you opened the door you made Alexia put down her luggage and turned her around, back facing the wall.

You then unlocked the door. You made sure she had her eyes closed and led her into the room.

You leaned up and kissed her neck lightly. ,,Open your eyes’’,you whispered into her ear.

,,Oh Amor, it’s beautiful’’, she turned around and kissed you with immense passion.

You pulled away:,,Baby we can do that later, first we have a wonderful dinner to enjoy’’, she pouted until she heard that there was dinner for you both.

You lightly chuckled at that and led her to sit down on the sofa and brought both your suitcases into the bedroom.

You both sat on the sofa for a while embraced in each others arms. When dinner came you sat down at the table and enjoyed it.

After dinner you put on perfect by ed sheeran over your music box:,,Dance with me mi amor’’ You took her hands and put them around your waist, your hands found her neck and rested there.

When the song stopped you kissed her deeply. You suddenly became very nervous as you remembered the ring in your back pocket.

You took a deep breath and led Alexia outside.

You stood on the balcony opposite of Alexia.

You took her hands in yours:

,,Mi amor, you are the love of my life. I have known that since the moment I first saw your beautiful face in that stadium. Whenever I see you everything lights up. You make my world brighter mi amor, without you the light would be missing. We helped each other through wins and losses and I couldn’t imagine my life without you and I don’t want to imagine my life ever without you.’’

I got down on one knee and pulled the ring out.

,,Alexia Putellas Segura, mi amor, love of my life, mein Schatz: Quieres casarte conmigo?’’

She had tears running down her face before pulling you into a kiss: ,,Si mi amor, I will, i love you so much!’’

Now years later, you just transferred to Barcelona to be with your wife.

None of your teammates knew, but that would change today.

You were with the higher ups signing your contract while Alexia was just arriving at the changing room. She was wearing her wedding ring for the first time around the team.

She was putting her things down in her cubby when she heard Frido: ,,Alexia! Is that a wedding ring?’’

She took her hand in her own and inspected the ring. That’s when the rest of the team realized what was just said.

But before Alexia could say anything you walked through the door. Alexias face lit up once she saw you and she quickly made her way over to you:,,Hola mi amor.’’

She lightly pecked you on the lips.

Alexia put her arm around your waist as Aitana asked: ,,How long have you been together?’’

,,10 Years’’

#woso fanfics #woso #woso x reader #alexia putellas

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sailor-aviator · 3 days

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Hey.

Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.

So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.

I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.

Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.

I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.

Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.

The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.

How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.

Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.

Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.

Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.

To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.

Nothing but love,

Liz 💛

#psa #public service announcement #this has been a psa #liz speaks #liz rambles #long post

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thegnomelord · 3 days

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I already know what I wanna have tattooed and I'm hoping it doesn't go near any of my scars because I have sensitive skin especially in the scarred areas. It's supposed to be a tattoo dedicated to my father

Yeah I figured, it's just my asks tend to get kinda long because I vomit words where they don't belong (in someone's ask box instead of the many drafts I'm supposed to be posting)

Oh yeah that makes sense. I just remembered you mentioning how Hound was often put in a sort of ring to fight others and if he lost the winners got to do whatever they wanted to him, so I imagined like maybe someone SA'd Hound or whatnot and Makarov saw and thought it was a good idea (sorry if that was too like...unhinged ig?) cuz it would be a power imbalance thing.

Anyways, I'd like to join the cult but I think I'll stay out of the tank, I don't like water

- 🪒

Ooh that's cool! I always love it when ppl have like sentimental tattoos because all of mine will probably end up being bc I felt like it lol.

Lol do I know the feeling about that :D word vomit in my inbox is fine dude!

Nah like, SA definitely did happen to Hound, especially at the start when it was about breaking down his spirit and because he was so weak he couldn't fight back properly. I was just hesitant to say it out right bc I was still trying to figure out if I wanted to explore that topic in my writing and a bit worried if I could write it in a way that didn't sexualize or glorify rape.

After Hound broke was when the sexual aspect of their power dynamic began, before that Makarov didn't touch him mainly because he considered Hound so below him that it was disgusting for him.

Funny enough Hound getting thrown into the fight ring as Hound is worse than when it happened when he was a sergeant, bc Makarov has conditioned him to only crave his touch and anyone else touching him feels like acid on his skin. So atop the ache of displeasing Makarov enough to throw him into the pit, he's (in hound's mind) further disobeying Makarov by being so weak that others can touch him.

Also please don't join the cult, they're trying to awaken Cthulhu my fucking ex and I'd rather not see the fucker again

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #good dog fic #hound-reader #🪒anon

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historia-vitae-magistras · 3 days

Note

A lightee ask than usual but do you have any food or eating habit thoughts?

Ooohooohh, I did a whole ass seminar on the history of food. Failed it because I almost bled to death but I got to keep all the material! I've got.... a lot of thoughts and feelings about food culture. Too goddamn many, tbh. This got really long so I'll have to do a part two for other characters if wanted but lol enjoy.

Alfred:

—Actually pretty gourmet little shit when he's got time and effort. He's made food Maria loves so often she has to give up on pretending she didn't enjoy it because fucking hell, he makes good chilaquiles after they've been drinking and fucking. There is, however, a non-zero chance he hasn't eaten a vegetable since the Nixon administration.

—With that combustion engine metabolism, he's also perpetually hungry, so he eats whatever is around him. His guts do not like this, especially when it's a lot of dairy.

—He has that kind of lactose intolerance that's tied to his health and stress, so if he's been particularly freaked out lately, he'll remind the world of his nuclear arsenal when he's got to use the toilet after that triple cheeseburger with a side of deep-fried cheese curds.

—He's a stress eater too. He eats every negative emotion he's ever had especially when he's trying not to binge drink or do drugs.

—He’s exceptionally food-motivated. They didn’t call one of his first major historical eras ‘the starving time’ without reason. He has preferences, but food is also food, and he’ll genuinely enjoy it in most forms as long as it's not rotten or otherwise godawful. Cowboy coffee and beans for ten days straight, and he will genuinely be the only man on that cow trail not sick of it by the end.

—This also goes into why he’s so generous with food. He’s big on homemade food. He’ll make a whole big ass batch of like some sort of mac and cheese, and all the neighbours will get a big ol’ bowl of it with an ‘oh just return the Tupperware whenever,’ and it will genuinely be one of the best things they’ve ever eaten in their lives. Europeans recoil in horror, but our portion sizes are almost never single servings. It’s a generosity and hospitality practice except drinks. He really will down like a 2 liter of Slurpee in a single sitting.

—He doesn’t mind eating alone. Actually prefers it sometimes. He loves eating in his car. American frontier culture, especially mountain men, had an often hyper-individualized, almost mythic culture of spending long periods alone in the woods and not being very sociable; thus a lot of situations where single servings were a thing, eating alone in quiet without something to do can be a real goddamn luxury.

—He’s a really big protein guy with his metabolism. Sometimes exists on protein shakes but is more often a beef or barbeque or ham or alligator jerky. And a somewhat chunky Alfred is a healthy Alfred. A perfectly cut no flab Alfred is an Alfred who might be severely dehydrated and on several kinds of uppers.

—He has better tastes than Arthur who didn't really realize food was supposed to taste good until like ten years ago but his combinations can be equally wild and unappetizing as they are batshit tasty.

—He loves spicy food. He's got so many opinions about hot sauces.

—He’s always hungry. If he isn’t hungry or turns down food, its genuinely a bad sign. If he turns down anything or just is just picking at it his food alarm bells should be sounding. He’s either about to declare war or puke all over the table or keel over dead. Peckish or food coma is his default state. Like if he was a smaller guy someone would say he’s got a binge disorder but he’s tall and beefy so he’s pretty okay.

—Incredibly adventurous eater too. People will assume since there’s that old school culture of Anglo-American who eats the same 7 meals every week and might keel over dead if the meatloaf is slightly different he’ll be a bit hard to please but then he’s absolutely charmed by everything from Korean kimchi to Lithuanian Lašiniai.

—He loves anyone who feeds him, just got to be a bit careful because he’s got surprisingly delicate stomach for the world superpower.

—That American obsession with authencity means he’s surprisingly good at remembering people’s food culture or eating norms. He figured out chopsticks in ten seconds and quickly picked up the cues and manners of eating in any given culture. Still struggles with modulating his voice and personality, so he can often come across as rude, but he's so excited to do so. It's almost frustrating how happy he is to try and adapt to people around him and how happy he can be to fit in.

Matt:

—He's a very good cook when he's putting in effort for other people, but he's not really like Alfred, who he'll make a whole ass meal for one just to relax on a Sunday.

—He does tend to eat more vegetables than Alfred, but only because his northern vitamin deficiency has him binging them when he can afford them or they're available during the summer.

—He can be weirdly picky on his own, but no one ever really needs to ask about his favourite food or how he likes anything because he always just goes with the flow around other people. “Just get me whatever you’re getting.” comes out of his mouth often.

—There's a lot of sour cream/crema and yoghurt/coconut milk involved when he eats Mexican or Indian food for as much as he loves it.

—Katya was singlehandedly responsible for his ability to maintain a normal weight during the 20th century by adding rye bread and perogies/vyrenki to his diet. He craves mushroom-umami flavours when he misses her, which is most of the time.

—When he’s normal and eating the Anglo-North American diet, but he isn’t always eating it, he gets some strong sugar cravings, especially when he’s west of Manitoba. He’s as fond of birch syrup as a flavour as he is maple; there’s just less production. But the kind of deprivation he got and his own tendencies to not eat sometimes cause white sugar to just straight-up burns.

—There's very much something of François to Matt's dietary habits, but less in his personal tastes and more in that he might be more sensitive to flavours. He has that kind of discerning and slightly oversensitive palate, but he’s a shitty perpetually broke frontier settler colony. He knows better/feels too guilty/is too embarrassed of himself to really indulge it.

—He kept too much of his peasant communalism in his eating habits. Where Anglo-American communities did have a lot of cooperation, communal eating was a special occasion. The norm was based on the individual household. In contrast, French Canadian habitants still technically lived on medieval land plots and owed labour to a lord while also having a culture of seasonal male work, so Matt grew up used to communal ovens and eating most of his meals around others. Later, in Arthur’s jurisdiction, it was usually the same. He got a plate of whatever he was given, and it wasn’t something he had ever had to initiate himself.

—Partially, he's sometimes exceptionally bad at eating when he has to choose to do it himself. Especially since the Americanization of the food culture took hold in the '80s and '90s. Whereas Alfred is food motivated from going without when he was little, Matt learned how to block out physical sensation until he collapsed because it was rare that someone, including himself, cared about what kind of state he was in. He just doesn’t eat at all when he’s stressed or anxious. And now it's his sole responsibility to do so as there aren’t the same community structures. He has a lot of Alfred’s abundance now, all the brunch and BBQ places anyone could ask for, but it hasn’t meshed with his eating habits. His people gave up so much of their communal eating in exchange for various choices and then wondered why they were so lonely. So he’ll just microwave a potato or a packet of Kraft dinner a day for a week straight and wonder why he feels dead because, technically, he did eat something. It’s seriously a miracle he got as tall as he did.

—Feed him nothing but hardtack for three years, and he won't complain until he's dropped dead of scurvy. If Arthur puts some sort of godforsaken mixture of plum sauce or gin-infused spag bol in front of him, he’ll compliment it before he disassociates to get at least some of it down.

#the ask box || probis pateo #hws canada #hws america #meatsack mechanics || the sociology and biology of nations #matthew || my country is winter #alfred || o beautiful for spacious skies

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venturelovebot · 2 days

Text

A/N: This took me longer than I wanted it to but it's finally done! That means there's only one fic left to finish before I open up requests again. :•) Enjoy!

Premise: Depressed!GN!Reader finds out they're not as worthless as they think they are.

Warnings: None! Pure fluff.

You scribbled on the corner of the page to test your ink pen.

I have to vacuum the floor again soon. Dishes need to be done again today. I don't know what I want to make for dinner. More chores need to be done tomorrow. Is it even worth it anymore?

You pause. Every entry from the start of this week looked exactly the same. Flipping through the pages you notice that the beginning entries aren't much different either. Seems like every day has turned monotonous and bleak for you for a long time now. When you really think about it, when was the last time you were truly happy to wake up in the morning? Nothing came to mind.

The amount of hopelessness that filled your mind, body and soul was immense.

"Good morning!" Sloan sets down a coffee mug with a cat meme on it for you. Their smile had genuine happiness behind it– not something you could relate to.

"Good morning." You mimic their smile and watch as they take a seat next to you.

You're not sure how they could be so happy to wake up to the same burden every day of their life. Surely they must of thought you were baggage at this point. You were just waiting for the day they got tired of your presence and finally packed up and left. Everyone did. It was only a matter of time for them, too.

You bookmark the current page of your journal and close its cover.

"Don't forget your medicine!" They set your pill case next to your cat meme mug.

"Thanks."

They give you a kiss on the cheek.

You want to cry. Instead, you just watch as they take a seat next to you at the dining table for breakfast.

"Not hungry?" They ask.

They fork small bites of waffle into their mouth.

"I already ate." You lied.

"Oh? What did you have? I didn't hear you making anything."

You knew they were worried about you, but your brain didn't accept this.

"Just toast."

They're quiet for a moment. "Just toast?" They repeat.

"With jam. I'm not completely tasteless." You halfheartedly joke.

In order to dodge more conversation you open your pill case and down everything on an empty stomach.

"You have therapy today, right?" It feels they're playing a game of Twenty Questions.

"Yeah. I can make it there on my own, though."

"Well, I don't have anything to do right now. Why not let me take you?"

Right. You forgot. You were used to them being gone for weeks on end because of field work, studying or traveling. They took a couple weeks off to spend time with you. It seemed to be happening increasingly often as of late.

"It's alright, really. I don't want to bother you with it." You insist.

"It's not a bother! I promise!"

They're smiling again. It's hard to say no to that face.

"Alright."

...

Your therapist gives you back your journal after reading the last few entries. Nearly fifty minutes had already gone by and you don't feel like you've gotten everything off your chest yet.

"So, you feel like nothings gotten any better then?" They inquire.

"How are things supposed to get better at this rate?"

You collapse into the sofa and stare at the wall behind your doctor.

"I'm a burden. I can't do anything right. Everyone else already has everything figured out. What am I supposed to do? I'll never be good enough at anything."

Your therapist jots down everything you're saying before looking back up at you.

"If it's okay to ask... what do you want to be good at, exactly?"

You think about it. "Anything."

"Do you really think that's true, that you're not good at anything?"

You nod.

"You woke up this morning. You're breathing. You're very good at doing those two things. You're taking up space and existing. You're listening. You're feeling. You do these things without even thinking about them. Is that not a sign of skill?"

"That doesn't make me a worthwhile person, though." Tears start forming in your eyes and your therapist hands you the tissue box.

"You don't have to do anything well to be a worthwhile person. You exist, and that enough makes life worth living. If you want to learn more then you can, but knowing everything won't increase your value. You're valuable just by being here. Your worth as a human being is not determined by what you can or cannot do, or what you do or don't know."

Your therapist stays quiet as you sob into multiple tissues. It takes several minutes for you to calm down enough to continue your session.

"I still can't help but feel like a burden to everyone though." You still find it hard to speak after crying so much.

"Those who see you as a burden will never be worth your time. People who want to be around you will stay around you, even if they can't be present in your life at all times."

Rain begins gently tapping at the office window.

"... wouldn't it just be easier to shut everyone out, then?" You point out.

"Well, sure... but then you would never find out who truly loved you, or find others who are going to love you despite it all."

Another moment of silence passes between the two of you before the clock chimes in the distance.

"Same time next week I presume?" Your therapist fills out an appointment card for you.

"That sounds good."

...

You forgot your umbrella. The rain has already begun to pour.

Y/N: Alright. I'm ready.

💛lil meow meow💛: ᕕ( ՞ ᗜ ՞ )ᕗ

💛lil meow meow💛: ON MY WAY!!!

A car speeds by while you're waiting and splashes you from head to toe in puddle water. You're lucky enough that your phone case is water proof and that your journal is in your bag, otherwise everything would've been ruined.

Weird. You haven't thought about the positives in a long time.

You carefully wipe the droplets from your phone before another text message pops up.

💛lil meow meow💛: [Uploaded a photo at 3:56 PM].

It was a photo of you from behind.

💛lil meow meow💛: Omg? There's just a cutie pie standing outside? Do you think they're single?

You turn to look in the direction the photo was taken, then Sloan snaps another photo of you.

💛lil meow meow💛: OMG they noticed me!!!

💛lil meow meow💛: They're walking towards me!!!

You open the car door and the warmth hits your damp face.

"Wow. Now there's a cute person in my car! No way!" They grin and gesture over to you.

You can't help but smile.

"Sorry I wasn't fast enough to pick you up before the rain started..." They add.

They reach over to hold your hand and give it a comforting squeeze.

"It's okay. I can shower later." You reply.

You look out the passenger side window at the world covered in gray. The sooner you could get home, the better.

"So, how did it go?" They ask.

For a moment you replay the conversation with your therapist in your mind. You're not sure if you want to bring it up.

"Well..." You start to say, but you choke back the rest of the words.

Tears form in your eyes and you turn farther way from your beloved to hide them. You attempt to focus on the street lights passing you by instead.

"It was okay."

A brief silence passes between the two of you.

"You can be honest with me." There was a genuine concern for you in their voice that you were all too familiar with.

You bite your lip and think about your therapist again.

"Do you think I'm a burden?"

The question seems to come from no where for Sloan– but for you, it's all you've been wondering for a very long time.

"No! Of course not! Why would I ever think that about you?" They answer almost a little too defensively.

"Because you're smart, and you already have your life figured out– and I'm just a nobody, really..."

"No, you're not. Not to me."

You wipe the oncoming tears with your sleeves. The weight of the world comes baring down on your shoulders once again. Hot breaths escape between choking sighs and you can't stop yourself from sobbing all over again.

"I'm sorry–" That's all you could repeat, over and over again, like a broken record.

"[Y/N]..."

You can hardly hear them over the sound of your downfall.

The crisis seemed like it lasted forever to you. Everything you've been keeping bottled up for so long comes pouring out all at once without any warning. Even though your heart still hurts, you can feel it becoming lighter with every passing minute.

You can't form words. All you can do now is cry, cry, cry.

So cry, you did.

For minutes on end, tears flood out from underneath your swollen, bloodshot eyes. Your face was pink and pain pounded in your head from all the upset. It felt like forever until you were calm enough to form coherent sentences again.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." Once again you find yourself apologizing for things beyond your control.

"There's no need to say you're sorry. Let's just get inside so you can get out of those wet clothes."

You didn't even realize you had made it home already.

...

One mental breakdown, shower and ibuprofen later you felt like a brand new person.

In the same cat meme mug from this morning your beloved sets down some hot chocolate for you to help you cheer up.

"Do you want to talk about it?" They ask.

You can feel them wrap a blanket around you before sitting down and scooping you up into the warmest hug you've ever received. You close your eyes and melt into their affection while placing your head on their chest to listen to their heartbeat.

"I guess I just feel worthless most of the time." You admit.

"But why? You're not worthless to me. Not one bit." They comfort you the best they can.

You can feel Sloan place their hand on the back of your head and gently stroke your hair.

"I feel bad for taking time away from you. You have everything in your life figured out. I can't imagine why you still come around to visit me."

"Because I love you." There's a softness to their reply that makes your heart feel safe and secure. "I love spending time with you, so I take time off to visit you. If I didn't want anything to do with you I'd be gone already."

You think about their words for a minute and wish you had something equally as nice to reply with, but instead drowsiness begins to fog your mind.

You open your mouth to speak but a yawn escapes first.

"Rest, mi vida. Don't let those thoughts bother you anymore. I love you so much–" They place a kiss to your head. "– and I'll love you even more when you wake up."

They let you lay down and listen to their heartbeat for a little while longer.

"You mean the world to me. I don't care about anything else right now– just you. I'm here for you. Everything else can wait."

"Promise?" You nuzzle into their chest, ready to fall asleep at any moment.

"I promise. I'll write it on my tombstone." They reply.

"I'll hold you to that."

"You'll have to wait and see. I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, first."

For the first time in a long time you felt yourself genuinely smile.

#this took me rewatching my entire comfort game to finish oof #overwatch #overwatch 2 #venture x reader #venture x you #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #sloane cameron #sloan cameron

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yawnzzznnn · 3 days

Note

hi could you do a imagine for riizes sohee

14.)Here I'll teach you the dance if you'd like

✩Dance Machine - Sohee✩

✩Special Thanks Too: anon, Sohee, Riize

✩Note: I'm so sorry this took so long I had a bunch of stuff happen then my supposed childhood friend turned out to be shit talking me so, um I'm a bit rusty but I hope it's good if there's any mistakes please tell me.

✩CW: dancing : eating (ice cream) : mentions of latest Riize news : praising : sohee telling reader to shut up (nicely) :

✩Prompt: 14.) Here I'll teach you the dance if you'd like

✩Taglist: @eumppappasgrippers - @mxlly143 - @cherriruto - @bunnie-stay-p1ece - @wonootnoot

04/26/24

You and Sohee sat in the practice room, you having visited and never left. Watching the Riize members dance till they couldn't, offering support when they needed it. Now all the members but Sohee left.

You and Sohee sat next to each other eating ice cream he got from one of the staff members, talking about the latest riize news, the topic moved on to how hard he practices and how he needs rest. Sohee then detoured the conversation to talk about how he liked the latest dance they had, dancing in his seat a little making you giggle at his silly behavior.

Suddenly Sohee gasped putting his empty ice cream bowl on the floor "get up" he said standing up reaching his hands out to you, in confusion you got up with the help of his hands. Once making sure you were on you're feet he let go of one hand dragging you to the middle of the practice room, "what are you doing" you asked slightly giggling, "I'm gonna teach you the dance" He said as if it was obvious.

You shook you're head "Hee you need to rest, I'm not gonna waste more of you're energy" you said turning to go back to you're spot, Sohee simply wrapped his arms around you're waist before picking you up and placing you infront of him, making you look through the mirror "you're not wasting my energy I want to do this, so just hush and follow along" he said calmly before grabbing you're arms to show you the step by step choreo.

Throughout the whole thing Sohee praised you for learning fast, you're simple exuse was "I watched you and the others do this over and over again for like 4 hours" but he didn't listen to that, he continued to praise.

Soon enough you learned the entire dance promoting Sohee to praise you more "you're such a good dancer" he repeated, as he kissed all over you're face.

#riize x reader #riize x you #riize x imagine #riize x y/n #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize is 7 #riize sohee #sohee x reader #sohee reactions #sohee imagines #sohee #lee sohee

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hathorneheiress · 23 hours

Text

Episodes of surprise

Avery's POV

Sometimes they come fast. Bringing me to my knees. Other times it took a little while. Torturously taking it's sweet time to get to me. Today was the time it came fast.

I was in my room getting ready for the day when my breathing became labored and I began shaking like a leaf. I had never had to deal with panic attacks but now I did. I noticed it not to long after losing my mom but it got worse when I became the richest teenager in the world over a year ago. In that short time I had been shot at, threatened, bombed, in a coma. Chloroformed and kidnapped. Almost lost people I hold dear and so much more. Definitely something to spike my panic attacks.

I was on the floor in an instant. Cupping my hands over my ears I rocked back and forth. Trying to focus on my breathing it did nothing to calm my nerves. Oddly, it only made it worse.

"Heiress, just breath." the voice sounded so far away yet so close at the same time. Then I saw my boyfriend's face right next to mine.

Jameson Winchester Hawthorne was everything and nothing I had thought I would have for a boyfriend. Emarald green eyes that usually sparkled in mischief was filled with concern. The constant smirk was replaced with a frown. The one thing that was the same was the unruly dark brown hair. So artfully mused.

Most people saw Jameson as a spoiled billionaire grandson with an adrenaline rush and a need for riddles and adventures. And he was, but only me and his brothers knew there was more then the outside people got to see. He was also kind, caring, funny. Gave me distractions when I needed them the most. (And sometimes not) Gave me the best back rubs and hugs. Was a perfect kisser. Did I say that?

I felt his warm hands cup my face. "It's ok Heiress. Focus on me."

A peaceful sense came over me and was able to concentrate on his words. "J-Jameson." I murmured shakily. "What are you doing here?"

"I got home early. And I'm glad I did. How long has it been going for?"

"Not long." I confessed burying myself in his chest. He smelled of expensive cologne, whisky, bad morning breath, and cake batter?

I sat up. "Where have you been?" I asked suspiciously.

He gave me his most charming smile. Proof he was doing something he was not supposed to be doing. "A surprise."

I gave him a look. He laughed. "Alright Heiress, you win. I'll show you what it is. But you have to promise me you are up for it. Especially after your episode. (Jameson always called it that. Trying to be discreet which I appreciate.)

Honestly, I had forgotten about it. But that's what usually happened. I'd be having a panic attack and Jameson would miraculously appear. He'd get me talking about other things and then everything negative I felt went away. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

"Anything for you Heiress." We both rose from the floor.

Taking my hand he led me through the house till we got toward the kitchen. Why were we going there?

He seemed to read my mind. "You'll see."

"Surprise!!!!!!!!" People shouted as soon as we walked through the doors. I jumped in shock. Everyone I loved and cared for was there. Xander and Max stood in a corner holding large amounts of punch. Libby, with Nash at her side, stood next to a gigantic pile of cupcakes. There was a least 200 if not more. Frosted with every color under the sun. I noticed Grayson in another corner holding a very wiggling Tiramisu. I couldn't help but giggle.

Thea, Rebecca, the Laughlin's. Alisa Oren, and Zara too.

Why was everyone here? It wasn't my birthday or the anniversary of when I came. "What's the occasion?" I had to ask. "Why is everyone here?"

"It's officially Avery Grambs appreciation day!" Xander shouted out.

"What?"

Jameson explained. "We have been noticing how stressed out you have been getting. And we decided that you need to take a break. Also we wanted to show you how much you mean to each and everyone of us." He smirked. "Including Thea."

"Ha ha Jameson Hawthorne." She gave a smile that only Thea herself could give.

"So all this is just for me?" I couldn't get over it.

"Just for you. Including the cupcakes. You have to eat all 300 by yourself."

I playfully gutted him in the stomach.

"Oh thank you!" I went around and hugged everyone there. And got dog kisses from Tiramisu as well.

What started out as a horrible day turned into one of joy and fun. We consumed more cupcakes than I will admit and talked for hours about random, stupid things that only the Hawthornes and us would talk about.

It was good to be loved and appreciated.

#the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the grandest game #grayson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery grambs #libby grambs #Thea #Rebecca #Oren #Alisa #Zara #Appreciation for our Avery Grambs

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devildom-moss · 6 months

Text

Roses for You (9)

This had all started when you noticed a link between a book on the language of flowers you had borrowed from Satan’s room and the current lessons from your Seductive Speechcraft and Magical Potions classes.

In Seductive Speechcraft, you had just reached a section on the effectiveness of spells using non-verbal communication: enchanting glances, dance, and offerings. Meanwhile, in Magical Potions, the professor had been discussing the significance of using specific quantities when concocting potions; they had spent fifteen minutes just providing examples – including adding petals from two different flowers when using them for a love spell.

You couldn’t resist discussing the use of flower language – utilizing the type, color, and quantity of the flowers – to specify the magical intent of an offering as a form of seductive speechcraft. Asmo and Solomon listened intently. The same idea popped into both of their minds, and before you knew it, everyone was looking into color and number meanings, searching for the perfect combination to convey their feelings for you and try to put you under their spell. The only rule for their little competition to charm you? Only roses are allowed.

Will you be charmed by their attempts?

Nine Roses - Barbatos

Word Count: +1,500 (sorry. I think my bias is showing.)

Eternal love

“Hey, Barbatos, why did you want to see me today?” You stood at the door to the Demon Lord’s castle.

Barbatos chuckled and stepped aside to allow you in. “What would you say if I told you I simply wanted to see you?”

“I’d say, ‘I’m glad you invited me because I missed you, too.’”

You missed the brief widening of his smile. He was delighted by your response, but the thought of someone walking into the foyer and seeing him practically fawning over you caused him to suppress that joy.

“Actually,” Barbatos started with a hint of something between hesitation and musing. “I was finishing up a task that I believe you might enjoy. Would you like to try your hand at making a flower arrangement?”

“I don’t know if I’d be any good at it, but it sounds fun.”

“Excellent. Come with me to the garden.” Barbatos turned, hiding the sudden appearance of a grin, and led the way. Perfect, he thought. It was no coincidence that you “caught him” in the middle of this particular task. He had worked hard to complete his necessary duties ahead of time so that he could spend the entire afternoon with you. This last task had been postponed until you were on your way with the hope that it would spark your interest – with the expectation that his plan would come to fruition. “I have a table set up in the garden where I was previously making arrangements. The flowers around the castle required refreshing. Although, as you can see, I’ve already completed a few.”

There was a vase slightly ahead of you on a table in the hall. You recognized the purple basil and black calla lilies, but there was something else in the arrangement – some alien- or Devildom-looking plant. It was a large dark reddish-brown, almost black, with petals that resembled wings – some pointed, demonic version of an orchid. Even stranger were the long, whisker-like tendrils that jutted out from the center. You’d never seen anything like it. “What type of flower is that?”

“I take it you mean the black bat flower?” Barbatos hummed and stopped in front of the vase.

“Is it native to the Devildom? It’s incredible. I half-expected it to growl at me as we walked by.”

“No, my dear,” Barbatos chuckled. “This plant is from the human world, but it tolerates Devildom conditions quite well; in fact, it flourishes here – much like yourself. I’ve heard about your recent interest in flower meanings, would you happen to have learned about any of these?”

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s the same for purple basil, but basil is usually a symbol of love, right?”

“It is now, although I’ve read that it once symbolized hatred. It was said to drive men insane. What an interesting turn of events. Both the calla lilies and the bat flower symbolize transformation, strength, and mystery. However, the black calla lily has a rather unique association.” Barbatos paused and turned to face you. His tail wrapped around the back of your thighs and pulled you closer to him. He held your gaze seductively and spoke, slow and heavy: “forbidden love.”

Barbatos had brought you here on purpose – both to see that particular arrangement and because the hall was quiet and not prone to foot traffic. He gave you a gentle smile that smothered the spark of heat you had felt in his eyes.

You found yourself searching for something to say – to cut the charged tension in a still-very-public part of the castle. “It’s a beautiful arrangement, Barbatos.”

Barbatos chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, dear, I lost myself momentarily. Shall we continue to the garden?”

He didn’t wait for a response before he turned and began to walk. You immediately felt his tail drop and encircle one of your calves, pulling you along with him.

The table Barbatos had set up in the garden was filled with a variety of flowers. You could see that he had nearly completed another arrangement before you had arrived. Barbatos added a few more hell roses and a sprig of black grass before he wrapped it carefully. “I’m going to place this in an empty vase. You’re welcome to use whatever you’d like to create your arrangement.”

“Will you display it in the castle when I’m done?”

“I’d like to, yes – if you don’t mind.”

You grinned to yourself as Barbatos walked away. The thought of Barbatos looking at an arrangement you made throughout the week as he went about his duties left you nervous but eager to please. Instinctively, you reached for a blue anemone. Sure, you probably should have considered what would suit the castle and the potential surrounding décor, but all you could think about was Barbatos. You added a few purple hyacinths, and cursed baby blue eyes, rotating the placement of each selection, but you felt that something was missing. The pale blue glow of hell jasmine called to you. Strange; the scent of hell jasmine was said to make a demon extremely needy. Why would Barbatos want to display these in the castle? That seems a bit dangerous. However, on closer inspection, the scent had been hampered significantly compared to other times you had run into this plant.

“Let me guess,” Barbatos spoke up as he returned to the garden. “You’re wondering if that hell jasmine has had an effect on me today?”

“Sort of.”

“Worry not. This variety has been modified. Its scent has no power over me. That honor is all yours today. It’s perfectly safe to use in your arrangement.”

“Oh!” You felt the heat rise in your face. You weren’t sure you believed him with all his sweet-talking. But that didn’t matter. If the hell jasmine was safe to use, it would make for the perfect final touch. You wanted to surprise Barbatos with your creative decisions. “Close your eyes, please.”

“As you wish.” Barbatos made no attempt to get closer and shut his eyes. You finished your arrangement and brought it to Barbatos, holding it out to him like an offering.

“Okay, you can open your eyes.” You watched as a look of pleasant surprise was sketched on Barbatos’s face. The smile on his lips filled you with an unfamiliar pride – so warm and encompassing as if you had performed a miracle. There was no restraint in that smile. “I made it with you in mind.”

“Oh my.” Barbatos brought the knuckle of his index finger to his mouth. “I beg your pardon, but would you indulge my selfishness and put your arrangement in my room? There’s an empty vase on the table near the door.”

“You want to display it in your room?”

“I would feel better knowing something so thoughtfully crafted by you was in my room. I’m afraid I would feel quite jealous allowing someone else to admire it. That is, I want the sole joy of seeing it and thinking of you each day. Is that okay?”

“Are you certain the hell jasmine has had no effect on you?” You looked at him suspiciously as if that would distract from the way he flustered you.

“I’m afraid not. This seems to be a consequence of thinking about you so much today. Now, will you do me a favor and deliver those to my room? I believe you’re adept at finding my room on your own by now,” Barbatos added a seductive tinge to the last sentence. He turned you towards the entrance and gave you a gentle nudge. The warmth of his hand lingered as you headed to his room.

When you returned, Barbatos was carefully wrapping a bouquet of blue roses and darkness thyme – likely both of which were cultivated by Barbatos. It was simple, but the blue roses were stunning, and their rarity was only complemented by an equally rare herb. Barbatos tied a silky blue bow around the bouquet and held it out to you with both hands – an oddly elegant gesture.

“Where would you like me to put these?” you asked.

“No, my dear, these are for you.”

Your eyes widened and you took a closer look at the bouquet. Nine blue roses. Nine was for a timeless, eternal love. Blue roses signified mystery and uniqueness, but they could also mean something unattainable or impossible. You frowned. “Eternal love is impossible?”

Sure, maybe Barbatos wouldn’t love you forever, but that message seemed a bit cruel.

“Not quite.” Barbatos laughed at you softly. Had his laugh not been so sweet, you might have been upset. “Blue may represent the impossible, but here it is – a dream come true. If I can be so bold, you are a dream come true – the only one I could adore like this for all of time.”

The frown fell from your face, and you were left with shock and shyness. Something must have gotten into him today. In truth, the thought of the others giving you roses only encouraged Barbatos to charm you as much as he could, and that meant he would need to bare his heart to you. Barbatos pulled you in close and kissed you with a sweetness that matched his words.

“For a demon such as myself, eternal love is a rather serious proposal; will you still accept it?” His thumb ran across your lower lip.

“That would be a dream come true.” It was your turn to kiss and fluster him now. Hopefully none of the little D.s would go into the garden that afternoon.

#this was not supposed to be this long. I just got too into it. I'll try to go back to shorter posts next time.#I took my idea and ran with it so here it is #barbatos #gn!mc #obey me series #obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #please let this one get some much craved (by me) attention #also did I give Barbatos soft dom energy or what?

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