#although it isn’t love that turns them into a human. it’s a desire to stay by the human’s side.

[skriblee-ksk]

hey guys!! status update!!!

still playing twst daily but if you realized i haven’t been posting lately it’s because……

i’ve been making a visual novel

completely self-indulgent so idk if you’ll ever see it. but my point here is idk when i’ll get back to drawing twst stuff. TEEHEE *star

SORRY FOR NOT BEING ACTIVE;;; BTW;;;; although that sorry means nothing because i’ll probably not be active until i finish this thing. 2 more bgs and 3 cgs and a cg screen to go. and also 4 sprites and end of script writing.

It’s really fun!!! If you’re ever wanting to make a visual novel for funsies, you should for real try renpy out!! super easy (unless you want to make it complicated. which i am going to because i’m a nonogram addict so i want to put a nonogram in the game. i’ll get it somehow)!! Doesn’t matter if you can code or not because the documentation explains everything!!!

SO YEAH. END OF UPDATE, TY!!!

[absurdthirst]

Fucking Fungus {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SEX POLLEN, dub con, post apocalyptic world, scavenging, guilt, shame, desire, Joel having a bad attitude, mentions of periods, rough sex, neediness, unprotected sex, cream pie

Comments: Coming across Wymore, NE, you hoped to find some much needed supplies for the coming winter but you find that the fungus has mutated in dangerous and frightening ways. Needing to insure that there are more hosts to infect in a very basic kind of way.

🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉Happy Birthday @storiesofthefandomlovers!!!! I love you and hope you have the best damn day! In thotty tradition, here is a sex pollen to celebrate another year around the sun!🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The world has changed in the past twenty years. None of it for the betterment of humanity. The crunch of the dried leaves grinds under your boots and your head rotates left and then right as you watch, listen. Waiting for any sign of life or more importantly, danger. The weight of your rifle is heavy in your hands, although you hold it down, unassuming but ready to be lifted at a second’s notice. 

“I don’t know why you don’t just hook it over your shoulder.” Ellie snorts, her backpack bouncing slightly on her back from the steps that seem so unencumbered by worry. Why should she worry when there are two fully armed adults on either side of her. Her own personal guard in a manner of speaking. “There hasn’t been anything out here for daaaaaays.” She drags the word out like it's the most horrible thing in the world that it’s been peaceful. 

Joel snorts, rolling his eyes as you glance over at him and then look back out at the surrounding terrain. “Yeah, that’s why we are on guard.” He grunts, even though his own rifle is on his shoulder. His hand gripped the shoulder sling loosely but he had only just put it up there half an hour ago after you had taken your turn relaxing as much as you can. “it’s too fucking quiet.” 

He’s right. After the disasters that had been Kansas City, you had tried to avoid major cities, but even in the small towns, you had come across plenty of cordyceps and clickers. You hate the clickers with a passion.

The isolation can account for a lot of the silence. Miles stretching between remnants of civilization. The crumbling buildings and overgrown roads give the entire midwest a sense of peace. It’s unnerving. 

Your grip adjusts, head rolling around your shoulders slightly to try to loosen the knot that builds up in your shoulders after so long. The weight of your pack isn’t as heavy as it should be, the rations not exactly filling since you had to escape that one clicker in Du Bois, Nebraska. Your pack had been ripped and most of the food you had been carrying was lost. 

You glance over at Joel, noticing the way his shoulders seem to hang, almost a reflection of the way you feel. “We need to risk a larger town.” You murmur quietly, knowing that his first instinct will be to argue with you. You stumble slightly over a rock and hiss when you feel the hole in the sole of your boots. 

“Too dangerous.” Joel snorts, shaking his head even as he watches you regain your footing. “I’ve got some duct tape in my bag.” He reminds you, knowing that you should probably reinforce that shoe before you lose the sole all together. 

“It’s not just shoes.” You protest, trying to ignore the way that Ellie groans obnoxiously loud and stomps her foot. 

“Come on, man!” She throws her own arguments into the ring. “I need tampons! We could find them if there was jack shit out here, but there’s not. Do you want me to attract wild animals?” She presses, glaring at Joel who looks equal parts horrified and unconvinced. She cracks an evil grin. “Circling us in the wild as I just leave behind a trail of blood? Aaaaand tears.” She adds, lifting her brows. “Periods are really emotional things.” 

Biting your lip to keep from snorting, you watch as Joel; normally stoic, no bullshit Joel, can’t seem to string together the words to respond. His eyes slide over to you, almost pleading with you to say something. 

Your brows lift in question and he twitches slightly, his dark eyes unhappy with you not immediately jumping in to save him. “We could use the food if we can find any.” You rationalize, smirking when his brows pinch together and he looks like he had just been betrayed. 

“Clean underwear!” Ellie adds. “Or….cleaner. And a heavier fucking coat.” She shivers slightly and you can see that is the moment when Joel caves. He acts like a prick most of the time, but he’s got a soft spot for the kid. He won’t admit, maybe not even to himself, but he looks over at the faded and nearly rusted out sign. 

You continue walking, not pressing any more and you can hear the grumbling thoughts that are rolling through Joel’s mind. The now half hearted protests about why this is such a bad idea but you wait for the sigh. 

Almost even with the sign is when it comes, heavy and it sounds almost pained. Like he is going against everything he believes in. “Stop.” He huffs, shuffling to pull his bag off his back and kneeling down with a groan and the small pops of fifty plus year old knees. Unzipping the pocket where he keeps the Atlas and flips the worn pages to Nebraska. Glancing back at the road behind you and then at the sign before looking at the map. Tracing the route that you had already traveled before looking ahead at the towns that were on highway 77. 

Ellie doesn’t say a word but she practically bounces on her toes as she waits for his decision. You know that he’s going to agree, it’s just a matter of which town he chooses. He knows the truth of the situation. Winter is going to come quicker than any of you want, your food supply is low, you could probably all use a new set of boots, and all of you would kill for a halfway decent musty mattress to sleep on. Four walls and a hopefully non-leaking roof over your heads would be the icing on the cake. 

“Wymore is coming up in fifty-eight miles.” He taps the map and looks up at you to see what you think. 

Ellie shuffles slightly and instead of grinning, you crane your neck to look at the map yourself. “It looks like it’s bigger than the last few towns, but at least it’s not like we are running into Lincoln.” You hum before you nod. “I say we try.”

“Yessssss!” The teenager pumps her fist in excitement and she grins when Joel rolls his eyes. You’ve noticed that like any normal teenager, her favorite activity is annoying any kind of parental unit and pushing boundaries. This applies to Joel whether or not he likes it. “I want to find another joke book too.” 

Joel groans but you just turn around, grinning yourself as Joel mumbles under his breath, stuffing the map back in his pack and zipping it up. Joel and Ellie are alike in a lot of ways, especially their penchant for mumbling. 

You resist the urge to offer him a hand up, knowing he will be even more pissy if you do. For someone who complains about being older, he gets downright grouchy when he’s reminded of that same fact. “Well then, the quicker we get there, the quicker we don’t have to hear ‘are we there yet?’.” You snort, making Ellie grin shamelessly as she shrugs, knowing she will do exactly that. 

“So let’s get going.” She doesn’t wait for anyone, just setting off down the road and leaving the two of you to catch up with her. 

****

It takes you nearly three days to get to Wymore. All of you are tired, but Joel is the one who barely sleeps, even when you force him to lay down. It’s as if he cannot stop trying to protect Ellie, and also you, long enough for him to rest. He gets upset when he has to sleep, staying up until he is nodding off. The coffee supply has been exhausted and it’s probably a good thing. He would drink it all day to the point where his hands would shake from too much caffeine. Still he just wouldn’t trust you to make sure that no one snuck up on you for a few hours until he was past the point of being useless. 

The first signs of the town are a welcomed relief but it’s also an added source of tension. Each mile that you had traveled had added to the fear that this might be the time that you fail. That something goes wrong and someone else dies. The road here has not been easy and the losses have weighed heavily on all of you. Joel still won’t even mention Tess and you hate it when you wake up in the early morning hours to find him staring down at the broken face of his watch with a look that breaks your heart. 

Every approach into a new area can mean danger, either from the clickers or from humans and honestly you don’t know which one you fear more. Your gun is back in your hand, the weight of it familiar and comforting as you pass the first gas station, the windows busted out and dried fungus clinging to the building. 

“Fuck.” You hiss, uneasy at the presence of the fungal vines, even if they look like they aren’t active.

“I wonder why it looks pink.” Ellie frowns as she squints at the building. “It’s usually an ugly brown color, right?” She looks towards Joel for confirmation, but he’s busy frowning at the building himself. 

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” If the cordyceps have spread this far out of town then there’s a possibility there are still active branches closer to the supplies that you are looking for. 

“Come on man.” Ellie groans, kicking a dirt clod. “There’s nothing for miles. It’s probably all dead.” 

You know that Ellie is probably right, but it’s a risk. You bite your lip, looking over at Joel. “Why don’t we sweep the town and we can see?” You ask, knowing that if everything is dead, you could desperately use the rest. Cordyceps rarely return en masse when the vines have withered and died. It could be a safe place to recharge and for Joel to sleep for more than ten minutes at a time. 

You’ve stopped walking as you talk, Joel looking around as he contemplates your alternatives. To be honest, there aren’t many and both of you know it. Not without a lot of backtracking which none of you want to do. 

Joel sighs and you know that he’s going to agree. He turns to Ellie. “Don’t fucking touch anything until we say it’s alright.” He points at her for good measure, as if his finger would impress the importance of his words. “Got it?” 

“Got it.” She huffs. “Jesus, you act like we haven’t done this before.” You roll your eyes and look away, knowing you shouldn’t encourage her right now. 

It takes hours to make your way into the center of town. Not because you are blocked by clickers or avoiding humans, it’s because you are stocking up. It’s like the fungus took over this town and just let it rot. Nothing inside the first few blocks of town is disturbed. No looting has been done here, plenty of supplies to be had. 

Both you and Joel have been cautious but slowly optimistic as you’ve found boots and heavy jackets, gloves and hats. A new pair of clothes have been rolled into everyone’s bags and you’ve even grabbed another pack to fill with the mylar sealed packs of camping food from the sporting goods store. It was a miracle that nothing had been ransacked, but it makes you wonder exactly what the fuck happened here. Did the army sweep through and round up all the residents right away? It would make sense, but then why were there dead spores of the fungus here? You haven’t seen one body so far and it makes you nervous. 

“This place is a fucking gold mine.” Ellie grins like a kid in a candy store, perhaps because you’ve actually found candy and she has been sucking on the jolly ranchers until the top of her mouth is raw. “Now we just need to find a place to sleep. I want my own room.” 

Glancing over at Joel, you expect him to immediately tell her no, but he doesn’t say a word. Continuing to look around like he is expecting a clicker to pop out from the doorway of the local McDonald’s, now completely covered in that strange pink fungus. It’s like he doesn’t even hear her as he frowns at the building. 

She takes that as approval and immediately starts talking about how she’s going to spread out. Making you snort when she talks about sitting in her underwear for an hour. There hasn’t been a lot of privacy out here on the road, so you can understand that desire. 

“Joel.” You murmur his name softly, knowing that the best thing you can do is to find the motel and get settled down for the night before the sun sets. Even if this town is as safe as it appears on the surface, you would rather not be fumbling around in the dark . He doesn’t look over at you, still staring at the overgrown building as if it’s holding the secret. Maybe it reminds him of the Boston Museum, ominously covered with the tentacles of the fungus and the horrors that you had found inside it. “Joel!”

“What?” His head whips around, body tense as he’s ripped out of his thoughts. Relaxing when he finds you and Ellie staring at him. “We need to find the motel.” You remind him, nodding towards the sun getting lower in the sky. “I think we could all use a good night’s sleep.” 

He stares at you for a moment, his eyes searing your face, looking for some hidden meaning beneath your words before he glances over at an eager Ellie. “Yeah, sure.” He agrees, adjusting his rifle to sling it onto his shoulder and adjusts his now much heavier pack on his back. “Probably on the other side of the main drag.” 

His new boots thump against the cracked pavement. The roads leading deeper into the town is the guide towards what will hopefully be a comfortable bed and at least eight hours of sleep. 

Your own new boots feel pretty good, but maybe a day or so here, going through supplies and really making sure that you can take on the coming winter would be a good thing. Allowing you to break in the shoes without blisters. You’ll have to talk about it with Joel after Ellie sequesters herself for the night. 

It’s about another fifteen minutes before you get to the small motel that looks like it will be a good place to spend the night. Half the building is covered in another large cluster of the fungus, the pink hue looking particularly bright in the fading sun. 

“We’ll get some keys.” It will be better than breaking down doors, especially since the motel wasn’t equipped with the keycards that the high end hotels had started switching to before society came crashing down. 

The bad news is that the motel doesn’t have any adjoining rooms, so Joel and Ellie get into a small spat about her having her own room, Ellie eventually winning after promising that she will block the door with a dresser and he’s allowed to sweep the room before she locks herself in. Half the building is so overtaken by the vivid pink fungus that you swear looks like a big splat of bubblegum thrown over the walls. 

She doesn’t even want to have dinner with you and Joel, making the man go through the room and then telling you both goodnight and shutting the door in your face. Making you laugh as Joel frowns at the door, rethinking this entire situation. 

“Well, you can have a room to yourself too.” You offer, smirking as he cuts his eyes towards you. You know that Joel would rather everyone sleep where he can keep his eyes on them, so you getting privacy is off the table. 

“Shut up.” Joel grunts, walking down towards the next room and kicking it open, watchful even though you’ve both already been in the room and deposited your bags. It’s a nice room, two double beds so each one of you can stretch out and relax. 

You laugh quietly and decide to walk down the railing towards the portion of the building that has been overtaken by the fungus. Your curiosity about this variant is finally getting the best of you and you want to get a better look at it. 

It’s thick. The tendril that is draped over the metal railing of the second floor, wrapping around it and up the support column. You bite your lip, tilting your head when you see the withered remnants of some kind of flower. What kind of fungus sprouts flowers?

You jump when something touches your back, whirling around to find Joel behind you, holding his hands up. He smirks at you, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Fuck you.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes and he huffs. “What are you doing?” He asks. 

Turning back towards the fungus, you sigh. “This is different from any other kind I’ve ever seen.” You comment, stepping closer to it only to feel Joel reach for your arm to pull you back. “It’s dried out.” You remind him, jerking your head towards the husk of the cordyceps. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” You know that he spent a lot of time sneaking out of the Boston QZ, it’s possible he had seen it before. 

He grunts, relaxing his hold on you and he shuffles slightly closer, looking at the flower buds that extend from the tendrils. His own suspicions about anything fungus related is deep, but it’s dried. “I haven’t.” He admits after a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly and trying to think if there is any reason why this pink coloring has the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

“So it’s something new.” You bite your lip and lean in, feeling the disapproval radiate off of Joel in hot waves but you ignore him. Tilting your head and reaching out to touch one of the dried flowers. 

“Don’t-”

The second your finger touches the wilted bloom, it bursts open, spurting you and Joel behind you in a cloud of pink dust. You gasp, holding your breath but there’s no hope for not inhaling the pollen. 

“Fuck!” Joel coughs, shaking his head and backing up so quickly he hits the side of the building and reaches out to drag you away from the lingering cloud of dust and starts to practically beat it off the two of you. “We need- we need-” He leans over and starts coughing, obviously having inhaled just as much of it as you had. 

“We’re okay.” You gasp, shaking your head and brushing the dust off your clothes. “We- it’s dead. Right?” You hate that you are asking that, but you hadn’t expected that from a dried out fungus.

“It- we should clean up.” Joel blinks, the pollen making his eyes itch and that has to be the cause of the rush of heat that slides over him. It’s just adrenaline. Fear. Anything that would scare both of you would make the slight nip in the air disappear and make you feel like your skin is superheated.

The water is gravity fed. The large cisterns on the roof are still full and while it’s not warm, perhaps a cold shower might be better right now. Joel drags you both to the room and locks the door, although he doesn’t push a dresser in front of it in case Ellie needs you in the night. 

In the bathroom, you are shaking as you start to strip down, worrying about how stupid you just were and if you completely fucked yourself. The anxious fear covering the way your skin seems to burn and feel so sensitive to everything. Shuddering when your hand brushes over your thigh as you push your jeans down and kick them off before you pull your shirt over your head and remove your bra. 

Clean up. Get the pollen off your skin and cool down. Your body seems to be working on overdrive. Your nipple hard under the cold water and instead of gasping in shock, you moan softly. Enjoying the sensation and reaching for the bar of soap that is still wrapped in plastic. 

Hurry up, hurry up. Joel paces around the room, his hands curled into fists. Practically sweating even though the air is cool as the sun sets. His body feels like it’s on fire, like he is battling a sickness. 

Over and over again, he goes through the symptoms of the infection of the cordyceps, there’s no veining, he’s stopped and checked his eyes and reflection in the peeling mirror about twenty times in the five minutes you’ve been in the bathroom. And he doesn’t fucking think the fungus makes his cock harder than a fucking rock in his jeans. 

He’s not thought about sex in months. Nothing beyond fleeting moments of attraction to you that he swiftly buries under guilt and responsibility. Normally, it is when you’re bent over and your ass is presented to him in such a way that he thinks about sinking into you from behind, or when your shirt pulls tight over your breasts and he imagines cupping them in his hands as you sit on his cock. Immediately dismissed and ignored as he reminds himself of how he had failed Tess, he doesn’t deserve to find warmth and comfort in your arms. 

Now, it’s all he can think about. The urge to palm his cock makes his fingers twitch and he almost moves his hand over his crotch before he flinches back to reality and tries to examine his face in the mirror again, wondering if his eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep or if he is infected. 

Scrubbing your body is nearly painful, wanting to stop and touch yourself, but you can’t. You need to get this done and get out so Joel can shower. Still, despite the cold water, you feel like you are on fire when you shut off the water and realize that you didn’t bring your bag into the bathroom. You will have to go out there in nothing because you can’t put those clothes back on. Not until they have been washed. 

Moderately dry, you hear Joel bang on the door. “Hurry up.” He growls, making you clench your thighs together at the raspy tone and hating how it spears through you. You know Joel isn’t interested in you, hasn’t ever looked at you like that and the crush that you had on the man had been buried deep. 

“I’m done.” You don’t have a chance to be embarrassed as you open the door and Joel practically shoves past you into the bathroom and slams it behind him. “Fuck.” Your annoyance cools the heat for a moment, but it’s only temporary. 

The water is icy, but still, Joel curls his hands into fists against the shower wall. He’s fucking hard. Harder than he had probably ever been in his entire life, even when he was a horny teenager and would have fucked anyone who let him between their thighs. He’s not felt like this ever. The need to touch himself builds to the point where his hips are rocking into thin air against the spray of the water. Want clawing up his throat and pooling in his stomach in a heavy knot. 

You don’t dress, you can’t. Crawling under the covers of one of the beds, you listen to Joel groan in the bathroom, it’s muted over the sound of the shower but it’s sexy. All of his sounds are sexy, from the low grunts he gives when he’s stiff and sore, to the huffs and groans of annoyance. It’s all sexy to you. The rasp of his voice when he’s not spoken for a few hours. 

Closing your eyes, it’s easy to give in, to let your hands drift over your skin. He’s not here, you can take care of this frantic need that is swirling inside you. You just need to slide your hand between your thighs and ease it. It wouldn’t take much more than a few swipes of your fingers against your pulsing and aching clit. 

Trying to fight it, you concentrate on your breathing, in and out. Inhaling slowly and holding it so you can exhale when the burn in your lungs tells you that you’ve reached your limit. It helps, but not much. Not when you’re imagining Joel in his shower. Touching him. Being free to touch him and having his hands on your body in return. 

Your hands slip over your breasts, squeezing them hard enough to moan softly and your legs shift to press together. Clenching around nothing and wishing that you were full while your hands start to move down over your stomach. 

The first touch is almost a relief, your entire core quivering as your fingers press against your clit. It’s overwhelming and not enough. You need more, fingertips pressing and rubbing around the puffed up bundle of nerves. You’re already soaked and can feel it dripping down your slit. 

Spurred on by that insatiable need, you slide your fingers around your entrance and start to press them inside. Biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning. Imagining that it’s more, that it’s a cock that is starting to break you open and fill that void that is aching. 

You are so caught up in the bliss of that first stretch of your fingers that you don’t hear the shower turn off. The quiet curses coming from the bathroom are muffled by the rush of blood in your ears, the feeling of relief coursing through your nerves and taking over. You don’t hear the click of the lock and the turn of the handle. The door opening doesn't even register as you plant your heels on the bed and push your hips up, needing to get your fingers deeper, not quite reaching the spot inside you that craves fullness. 

You don’t hear him until he chokes out a sound that is pained and low, like he’s injured. Your eyes pop open as you lurch up off the bed, your fingers ripping themselves out of your cunt hard enough to make you whimper. Fixed on Joel’s towel draped body, tented over his waist. 

“Joel, I-” “Fuuuuuck.” He growls, his eyes closing and his hands bunches into fists, one holding his towel and the other by his side. “I’ve tried to not think about you, about touching you.” His words are rasped out, strained against his vocal cords. “I’ve goddamn beat into my brain that you aren’t to be thought about this way and now, I can’t stop.” His stomach clenches and his body twitches as he struggles to keep still. 

Your chest heaves and you see his eyes drop down to your uncovered tits. His jaw clenching and his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows. “I - I need to touch myself.” You admit breathlessly. “I - it hurts so bad and I need something inside me.” 

Joel groans again, shuddering so violently that you can see him shake from where you are. “I’ve jerked off in the shower twice and it's still hard.” He drops the towel, revealing his hard and leaking cock, making you whimper at the sight and clench around nothing. “I think that- that we- that the flower-” “I don’t care.” You moan, shaking your head and crawling to your knees and shuffling forward. Showing him all of you and so goddamn desperate to touch him that you think you are about to explode. “Touch me, Joel. Fuck, touch me, please.” You beg, your hands on your own body. “We-” He shakes his head and his face changes, morphs into pain.

“Fuck me.” You hiss, watching as his resolve breaks. His cock bounces as he lunges for you, hard and swift, driving you back to the bed with a bounce. Almost as if he is attacking you. 

He’s not gentle. His mouth finding yours in a harsh kiss, your permission unleashing the coils of restraint that he had tried to put on himself. His grip bruises as he hauls you up the bed and settles between your thighs. 

You’ve always attributed Joel with rough gentleness. The type of man who would make you ache and then hold you close. Groaning in pleasure when you find out that is exactly what Joel Miller is like. His hands spreading your thighs with a desperation that proves he is just as afflicted by this fungal pollen as you are. His cock hard and pressing against your folds as he rocks his hips forward to line up. Almost unable to find the hole with his eagerness to sink into you. 

“Joel, hurry.” Your hands shake, holding onto him and urging him closer to you, frantic with need now that you know that you are going to have him inside you. 

“Goddamn, I’m trying.” He hisses, hating to let you go so he can take his cock in hand. Rocking into his own grip as he shuttles his hips forward. “I’m fuckin’ trying, sweetheart.” 

You whimper when you finally feel him pressing against your entrance, choking out a sound of need that is animalistic. Only to cry out in bliss as he pushes inside you without another delay. 

He groans, eyes cinched shut as he slides inside you to the hilt, burying himself in your heat and feeling that coil in his stomach tighten even more now that your walls are around him. Immediately starting to move just as soon as he fills you, driving by that need and burning in his very veins. 

It’s exquisite, the pain and pleasure blending and fusing in your stomach, nerves alight and responding to every small movement. You can’t get enough of him, you need more. Wrapping  your legs around his hips, you rise to meet his harsh thrusts. Clenching down around him every time he hits that spot deep inside you that you couldn’t reach with your fingers. 

He shouldn’t be inside you, he shouldn’t be touching you, but now that he is, he can’t stop. Turning his head, he presses his lips to yours and slides his tongue into your mouth. Needing more. Kissing you like he had imagined a thousand times before. Giving into every urge he has had since the day he met you and repressed before right now. Snapping his hips forward sharply and pulling every groan out of your mouth to swallow down. 

Every thrust makes it better, eases that burning in your core, your cunt slick and squelching every time he drives into you. He absorbs every sound you make, almost greedy for them. His hips jarring as they slam into you. Rocking you both up the bed. 

“Oh god,” breaking away from the kiss, you moan into his ear. Closing your eyes as he pants and puffs while he fucks you. “So deep, so deep, Joel.” Your nails drag down his back, making him hiss in pleasure and pain. 

“Shit.” He groans your name, lost in the rhythm of his thrusts and the building pressure. “You needed this?” He growls, making you clench down around him hard and whimper his name. “Yessss.” You agree, nodding against the pillow. “Needed it so bad.” 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He huffs, burying his face against your neck. Continuing to pound into you, and not letting up even though his back is screaming in pain. His body won’t let him do anything but rock his hips. Driven by a need that overrides everything else. 

His words make you burn, making you even more desperate for him. Your hips rock up and legs tightening around his waist even more. Loving how his cock stretches you out and scrubs against every nerve in your cunt. Lighting up your body until you are gasping on the edge of that much needed orgasm. 

Every plunge into your body brings him closer to cumming, desperate to feel that emptiness, that wrung out filling once he has filled you. He shouldn’t cum inside you, he knows that, but he’s not going to be able to stop himself. He can barely pull back enough to rock his hips back into you. 

His arms have banded around you, holding you into place as he fucks you. Deep and primal, as if he is trying to fuse the two of you into one. His cock punches into the depths of your body that you never imagined anyone reaching, but he touches it with ease. Your body pulsing with that need to come apart. 

“So close, I’m so close, baby.” You whine, body starting to tremble underneath him. “So close.” Your nails dig into his shoulder, grounding yourself to him in desperation. “Joel.” 

“I gotcha.” He groans, eyes closed and his breath fanning against your skin. “I’mma take good care of you, sweetheart.” He promises. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock, ain’t cha? Just like you wanted.” 

His words throw you over the edge, that need built up so tight inside you that it busts on the next thrust. Lights careen and collide behind your eyes, bright and beautiful as your whole body ignites into pleasure like you’ve never experienced before. Crying out loudly and soaking  him in a wave of your juices. Cumming harder than you ever have before. 

Joel growls your name, his hips stuttering as you come apart around you. Unable to hold back any longer. He buries himself deep into your hot passage and paints your walls with sticks ropes of his seed. Panting against your lips as he empties himself body and perhaps his very soul into you. 

Both of you pant, relieved and exhausted from the pure exertion of need as you had taken from each other. Joel presses into you, trying to catch his breath, but the fire is still burning low in his belly, his cock still not softening as it twitches inside you. 

“Oh fuck.” You feel that same desire still curling in your stomach, not satisfied by the intensity of the orgasm that you are still coming down from. “Joel-” 

He huffs and shakes his head. “Don’t-” he presses his lips to your again, body screaming as he starts to move again. “Shhhhhh.” 

The need still burns and both of you are still locked in its fiery grip, not yet free from the desire that washed over you from a burst of pollen. 

****

“What the fuck man, open the door!” The thudding on the door finally penetrates the bone deep sleep you had finally fallen into. You don’t know how many time Joel fucked you, or how many times he had spend himself inside you as you blearily open your eyes. 

Joel grunts, slowly opening his own eyes and unwinding himself from the tangled together position that you had passed out in. The knocking on the door keeps on. “Joel!” Your name is also shouted, Ellie starting to sound somewhat panicked when neither one of you is immediately opening the door. 

“Fuck! I’m coming.” He drags the top blanket off the bed and wraps it around his waist before flinging the door opened to blink into the harshness of the sun. “What?” He growls roughly, making Ellie’s eyes blow wide with shock.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” She demands, pushing into the room and stopping short when she sees you sitting up in the only bed that has been disturbed, the sheet anchored beneath your armpits. “Oh shit, you fucked.” She gasps, turning and shooting Joel an impressed grin. “Way to go, old man, you made a move.” Her grin quickly turns into an expression of mild disgust when she realizes that she’s congratulating you two on having sex. “Uh, I’m gonna go now.” She huffs, wrinkling her nose and pinching it. “It smells in here.” Waving her hand in front of her face, she darts back out the door and Joel just stands there for a moment before he rolls his eyes and goes to shut the door before he thinks better of it. Sticking his head out of the room, he shouts after Ellie. “Stay away from the fucking fungus!” 

You snort, grinning to yourself as your body starts to ache. Fucking fungus indeed. 

[di-writes-stuff]

Known

John Price x fem!Reader

One shot.

TW: Mentions of gunfire? Literally nothing. This is pure angst. Not really a happy ending, just an absolute.

All you wanted was a damn smoke.

The day had been long, and your inability to sleep means the night will be longer. You’d still choose this over the nightmares any day. Leaning against the porch railing, a cigarette in hand.

It’s shit for you, you know that. Although, you nearly get yourself killed every day for a living.

The oxymoron makes you laugh as it crosses your mind.

Either way, smoking isn’t exactly the biggest threat to your well being. The universe seems to disagree though, as the lighter in your hands won’t work no matter what you do.

Footsteps behind you go unnoticed as agitation takes over. You toss the lighter on the ground, muttering something along the lines of ‘piece of shit’ as you pull the flannel hanging off your body tighter around you.

The soft laughter that leaves the man behind you, though.

That, you notice.

It’s a sound you’ve grown accustomed to. Although, you’d be a damned liar if you claimed your heart doesn’t skip a beat every time the deep rumble of his laughter reaches your ears.

John smiles softly as you turn to face him, lifting a gentle hand to tilt your chin up to face him. These hands that have caused so much death. Yet, they handle you with a kind of gentleness saved for those who deserve it.

You don’t think you do.

He couldn’t disagree more.

His voice is a low murmur as he moves forward. “Let me help, love.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as his face nears yours. The smell of the cigar trapped firmly between his lips fills your nose, bringing a warmth to the back of your throat you wished could linger forever.

John. His name almost slips from your tounge. And then the ever present correction, the one you won’t…

No.

The one you can’t ignore.

The man in front of you is your superior.

The truth stings your mind like an angry wasp.

Captain Price. To you he will always be Captain Price. That’s all the circumstances you damn day in and day out will allow.

The end of his cigar lights the cigarette that now hangs loosely from your lips. The light from where the two connect illuminates his face just enough to show the most prominent features.

It makes you wish you’d stayed in darkness.

Being this close to him is hard enough. Seeing the look in his eyes that’s mirrored in yours as he stares down at you?

You could break beneath it’s gentle weight.

It’s a kind of love. Marred and ugly. Not exactly what you’d dreamt of it looking like. The kind that only people who’ve seen the exact opposite can show.

Most of your days are spent surrounded by gunfire.

Here, it’s silent.

Most of your days are spent with ice cold fear coursing through your veins.

You’ve never felt comfort like this.

Most of your days you are a wall. An impenetrable force. Unknown. Here, you’re raw. Like the skin has been stripped from your body, showing only the ugliness left inside.

He doesn’t flinch.

You’re human, and he reminds you of that in moments like this.

‘Love.’

John calls you that every chance he gets. He claims it’s just what Englishmen do with pretty women. He claims that it has nothing to do with you in particular.

That doesn’t necessarily make it true. And it’s not.

It has everything to do with you in particular.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment he realized. He certainly hadn’t been looking for it.

You just…happened. One day, you were here. And the next, he wanted you to stay. That desire’s only grown stronger since.

He pulls away slowly, like a puppet controlled by the rules put it place to stop attachments like this. Or at least, stop people from acting on them.

“Thanks.” You whisper breathily, avoiding eye contact, letting your eyes trail to the sweater he’s wearing. It’s not very interesting. Faded navy blue fabric, a small stain on the right sleeve. Probably from tea.

You stare anyway.

He tilts his head slightly, a small smile forming on his lips as your eyes snap towards his for a moment. The smile grows as you let yourself stay there, getting caught in his gaze like a fly in a web.

“You alright?” He asks, spotting the evidence on your face of days without real sleep. He can’t exactly blame you. It’s not like he gets much rest either.

It doesn’t come easy to people who’ve seen what you two have.

“Yes sir.” You answer, pain lacing the edges of your words that cut him like a shard of glass. It’s a reminder, for both of you. Of why this can’t happen.

Although, if words had a taste, those two would sting like battery acid on your tongue. Other ones would too.

Sergeant.

Captain.

One is you, one is the man in front of you. The latter is also what you used to dream of becoming.

Now, they leave behind a murky trail of disappointment in your mind. Only serving as acute reminders of the line drawn in the sand between you.

He opts to ignore it, for tonight.

“What are you doing out here? It’s late.” He remarks obviously, trying to stretch out the moment as long as he can.

Nobody here to interrupt.

No jokes cracked about how close you two seem to have become.

Nobody to watch as stolen glances linger too long for something that never should have happened in the first place.

You shouldn’t have let yourself get attached. Neither of you should’ve. You’d regret it if you didn’t love him so much.

John leans against the railing beside you as he waits for your response.

“I could ask you the same.” You retort, dodging his questions. He knows why you’re here. Same reason he is.

“Will you?” He asks cheekily, nudging you softly as you look up at him, a small grin forming on your lips despite the sadness that comes with moments like this. The knowledge that they’ll end sooner or later.

“I already know the answer, it’s no use.” There it is again. The banter that comes to the two of you far too easily to keep passing as close friends.

He chuckles softly, looking down and nodding to himself. “Smart girl.” He answers simply. You don’t talk much, and he doesn’t need to.

His hand slowly slides across the rail, reaching yours hesitantly. You look down as he grabs your hand in his, the featherlight touch he uses sending a small shiver down your spine.

It’s not the first time.

Although, you can’t guarantee that it won’t be the last. And so you enjoy it as much as you can. His hand is rough and calloused around yours. His skin isn’t much different from the leather gloves he wears in battle.

Still, it’s nice.

You look up at him, watching the stars reflect in his eyes. A blue gaze comes to meet your own as he stares back down at you. The gap between you is so very small, and it’d be so easy to close it.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’d done that, either.

Nights get lonely. Bottles get emptied. Memories better off forgotten get stronger, and you find your way to each other.

Sometimes you drink enough and you really don’t remember the events of the previous night. Although, most of the time you just pretend not to. It’s easier that way.

Ignore kisses smuggled to one another in darkness.

Ignore the way his arms wrap around you when the night’s cold air seeps into the barracks.

You have to pretend it doesn’t happen. At least, you do in the light of day. But when the nights get lonely and you don’t let yourself go back to him?

You remember him instead. Mull over drunken evenings when soft, hushed laughter fills one of your rooms. Force yourself to fall asleep when you feel tears roll off your cheeks and onto your pillowcase.

And so tonight, you don’t. You don’t let him kiss you. You don’t kiss him either. You don’t start anything that will have to be finished by morning.

You haven’t drunk nearly enough to excuse the behavior when you have to act normal with him at breakfast tomorrow.

And John.

He would. If he didn’t see you holding back. If he didn’t know tonight wasn’t that kind of night, he would.

If he didn’t know that tonight it would hurt you more than it would help.

And so, he settles for silence. An owl calls in the distance. Leaves blow across the ground in the chilly breeze.

You shiver.

He takes off his sweater quickly, tossing it over your shoulders. You try to give it back, ignoring the way the smell of him clings to the fabric.

The very reason you want to cling to it as well.

“You’re gonna catch a cold.” You mutter stupidly. The both of you know damn well that’s not how colds work. You just want him to be warm.

He shushes you softly as he grabs his hand in yours yet again, rubbing small circles into your palm with the pad of his thumb. It’s quiet for a little while longer, and you can feel your eyelids start to droop a bit.

His voice cuts through the silence, soft.

“I’m sorry.”

You sigh. “I know. Don’t be.”

He forces himself not to look at you. It’ll only hurt more that way. “If things were different…” He trails off slowly. You both know why.

Things aren’t different, and they never will be.

“I know.” You repeat.

The words left unsaid linger far longer than the ones you dared to utter.

There’s been confessions before. Clear ones. Real ones. On the nights you pretend not to remember, yet relive with perfect clarity every second you can.

I love you’s whispered in dark rooms, hidden underneath heavy blankets, sunken into a hard mattress.

But every other word you speak to one another.

It doesn’t matter what it is. The way you word things for each other. The longing that always dances between every syllable that leaves your mouths.

Every time you talk, it’s a confession of it’s own. A secret knowledge.

He cannot love you. Not openly. Not the way he would if only life hadn’t been so cruel as to let you meet here in this unforgiving place.

In the one place where love is not meant to be found. And when it is, it is hidden. Between comrades. Between soldiers.

And yet, you are loved.

That, you know more than anything.

You are loved.

Loved.

Known.

A/N: Guys I’m actually going feral over this man.

(Also thank Hozier for this chapter. I think he resurrected a dead poet in me for this one.)

[mamamittens]

Hii me again!, could I order again!, for my oc/ insert Chloris; could I get a strawberry chunks milkshake (as for the creature was thinking a vampire Shanks and a human Chloris 🤭) chocolate syrup with whipped cream and a cherry on top (was thinking first meeting sort of thing?) could I get some Alice in Wonderland, dom/sub (for me), motor oil (for me), hot damn, jager bomb and a White Russian please and perhaps a sprinkle of Brain Hemorrhage (for me again), got to spoil Shanks so a Pineapple Upside Down Cake (for Shanks). Chloris uses she/her pronouns, she’s got long wavy pink hair that goes a bit past her knees, with flowers in her hair, an almost flower like crown of baby breaths that don’t go all the way round? (Can send an image in dms to explain better if it helps 💦), light purple eyes and beauty marks under them (like Mitsuri’s)

And here we are! Finally! Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long there!

Shanks X OC (Chloris)

Warnings: Vampire sex, blood drinking, oral sex (male receiving), outdoor sex, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, size kink, and praise kink.

Word Count: 2,221

Shanks was a man(sort of) of many vices, even before he’d been turned into a ‘creature of the night’.

Although he’d never call himself that out loud. That was more Mihawks thing, really.

He liked his booze and loved companionship of all kinds. For a drink or for a roll in the sheets, as long as it promised to be a good time, Shanks was all for it. Although a few things were different now, this basic desire to enjoy himself certainly wasn’t. His booze was now tainted with blood for an extra kick and his lovers never left unsatisfied from a boozy dick—though they may struggle to stand in the morning if he was feeling particularly amorous. What can he say? Something about having a pretty patch of skin under his teeth got him going.

He tried not to linger in one area too long. The idea of being caged unsettled him and there was only so much charm he could lay on to stop the townsfolk from stabbing him with a stake. It did lead him to find many breathtaking places in his years of wondering though.

Mountain peaks and muddy riverbanks. The people that could be found there. Usually crabby old men who only appreciated his booze, but… sometimes he got lucky.

Lucky enough to find a beautiful woman picking flowers in the moonlight. Some delicate bloom he couldn’t recall glowing like fireflies in her grasp, illuminating her pretty profile. Delicate and small with flowing pink hair that pooled at her feet as she crouched in the wildflowers. A flower crown of small white buds woven into her hair.

Shanks came to a stop just a few feet shy of her, grinning boldly. Eyes shining with hunger.

“…Hello, beautiful. Aren’t you a pretty sight? What are you doing out here alone?” Shanks asked in a comforting rumble. He wasn’t here for scares.

She startled a bit, looking up at him. Violet eyes catching the moonlight with identical moles under each eye.

“O-Oh! I’m—well, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? I’m picking flowers. Moonbells. They only bloom under a full moon and they’re just the most precious light.” She cast her gaze across her draped skirts before looking up at him innocently. “And what are you doing out here alone?” She asked back.

Shanks chuckled.

“Maybe I’m looking for something sweet to eat.” Shanks mused smugly as she blushed. “Know where I might find that, pretty?”

She smiled, casting her eyes to the side demurely. Shanks stayed where he was despite already seeing how amicable she was to his presence.

“Sweet? Oh, I wouldn’t know. It is late though. Perhaps we should leave?” She asked, glancing back at him.

Shanks shook his head, grasping his belt buckle with one hand casually.

“Oh, but it would be such a waste of a pretty view. I can think of how it could be even prettier, though.”

“Oh?” She asked, covering up her smile with a delicate hand. Shanks squeezed his belt, lifting it up jostle his cock.

“You’d look ravishing under the moonlight, lovely.”

“I’m already here~?” She tipped her head to the side teasingly.

“Naked.” Shanks emphasized, taking a bold step forward. “Underneath me.”

She gasped, smile still evident and emboldening him.

“My, you’re a bold man. We’ve only just met!” She laughed.

“You’re right.” Shanks said in a faux-apology. “Your knees would be a better start.” Shanks declared.

“I thought you were hungry?” She asked coyly, shifting her legs beneath her. “And now you would have me walk all the way over there to get on my knees?”

Shanks laughed, stalking forward.

“That is a lot to ask of a beautiful lady. But I think you’re up to the challenge.” Shanks cackled, stopping just shy of her. She looked up at him eagerly, shifting up onto her knees and grasping his pants. “You going to be my good girl, beautiful?” Shanks asked softly, reaching down to tease a soft curl behind her ear.

She grasped his belt and slowly pulled the leather apart.

“Chloris. If you’re going to challenge me, the least you can do is call me by my name.” She smiled, tugging down his pants as his cock bounced free. She gasped, a little shocked at the size. And from his view, he couldn’t blame her.

His cock looked massive next to those pretty lips and wide eyes. Pre leaking down the tip. But before he could reassure her that he was fine skipping this treat, Chloris leaned up and slipped the head of his cock onto her tongue. Wet heat engulfing his cock as he groaned.

“S-Shanks, beautiful. If you’re going to take my cock, that’s the only word you need to know—and I-I expect you to scream it—shit!” Shanks groaned, bravado faltering as she sucked him in deeper. Her tongue slipping underneath his thick cock as he threw back his head. Hands grasping her head and petting down her hair as he fought to not cum. Flowers tangling around his twitching fingers.

But her mouth was made of sin and his balls ached to not spill down her throat with every movement. Her soft moans vibrating down his cock as his hips jerked forward. Snarling, Shanks yanked her onto his cock further, her wet lips drooling down his length. Despite his harsh treatment, she gripped his thighs harder and moaned loudly. Swallowing faster as she teased her tongue around him.

It certainly wasn’t his intention to fuck her throat, but clearly she wanted to choke on his cock.

“SHIT! F-Fuck, couldn’t take it slow, huh pretty girl? Wanted to let you work the tip but you wanted it balls deep, isn’t that right, Chloris? Fuck what a mouth you’ve got!” Shanks praised. “I-I’ll make it up in a mo-moment! I think my pretty girl needed this more than I did, isn’t that right? W-Well I won’t leave you wanting—f-fuuuuck~!”

Shanks slammed her face onto his cock and held her in place, pouring cum down her throat as she struggled to swallow it all down.

Slowly, he let her pull away, brushing away her hair as she did so. She was panting, face red and eyes bright as she looked up at him. Lips and chin slick with drool and cum. Shanks swiped up the wet mess with a grin, licking his fingers.

“What a beautiful woman.” Shanks praised, crowding her against the flowers. An easy task as she was still breathless. “How does my pretty girl want it? Anything you could ask—you’ve earned it, pretty girl.” Shanks asked, kissing her lips with slow licks, cradling her face between his hands.

“Now—please, I-I can’t wait!” Chloris whined and Shanks chuckled. Kissing along her cheek until he reached her ear.

“I’ll allow it.” Shanks grinned, ripping her dress clean in half. Breasts bouncing free against his chest as he pulled her against him before sitting up. Hands on her ass cheeks spreading her thighs as he slammed her onto his lap, cock driving out a scream. “What my pretty girl wants, my pretty girl gets~” Shanks crowed, bouncing her on his cock despite the clear struggle to take him.

It was mean, borderline cruel, but for such a good girl it was the least he could do.

Her cunt soaked his lap with every hard bounce, squeezing his cock tight as she moaned. Shanks laughed, holding her in place against his chest so she wouldn’t fall back into the grass. With such a beautiful display before him, Shanks felt his mouth water. Indulgently nipping the bouncing swell of her breasts pinned against his body. Her cries growing more desperate as she fought to hold him tighter. Hands finding purchase in his shirt as she wailed, creaming profusely on his cock.

Shanks struck, sinking his fangs into her bared neck.

“—ooOH~! AH-H-hahn~ S-Sh-ahnks~!” She moaned as her blood spilled into his mouth. Sweet and delicate like her trembling cunt struggling to hold onto his cock. It was a heady taste, the kind he could get used to. Every hilt making her heart beat harder with arousal.

Shanks felt Chloris’ trembling hands grasp his head and pull him close. He grinned, roughly tipping her back further as his thighs slapped against her ass. He drank in long, slow draws as she began to shake again. Legs wrapping around his hips in a useless attempt to keep him inside while he fucked her into the dirt harder to make up for the change in position.

His balls aching as he chased his release while drinking the aftermath of her own. Arousal thick in her blood as he fucked her to another orgasm relentlessly. Her cunt quivering around him sopping wet as she squeezed his cock hard. Shanks moaned, lapping at her bloody mark as his thighs trembled and he followed her, pouring heat into her aching pussy.

Heady and reinvigorated, Shanks lifted one leg onto his shoulder and pressed in deep, Chloris’ wail cutting through the night air. She jerked and keened but found no sympathy from him despite leaking their shared cum.

“M-My pretty girl wanted it now, isn’t that right?” Shanks mocked lightly, covering up his desire to find more interesting sources to drink from on her body. Her thighs would feel wonderful on his lips, for example. Desperately, Shanks panted against her skin, kissing and nipping whatever he could reach. “You want more, baby? My perfect girl feels so good everywhere. Taking my cock so well, it would be a crime to take it away now~” Shanks cooed, relishing the loud, wet smacks of his balls hitting her wet cunt.

“Y-Yes! More! M-Mo—ooorr~ Aaahn-ah~!” Chloris whined, tugging his hair fruitlessly.

“Everything I give you, huh? Gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Show me how good you are for me?” Shanks whispered into her ear, allowing her to moan directly into his own. Slurred, delirious acknowledgement that she wanted anything he saw fit to give her. “Going to ride this pussy till dawn and spoil you rotten for it.” Shanks swore, moaning as he placed his hands under her knees and pinned them to her chest. Raising her ass for Shanks to go even harder than before.

The smell of sex and blood permeating the delicate floral bouquet she’d been picking.

Chloris threw her head back into the grass with a whine, throat bared and smeared with blood.

“Look at me, Chloris.” Shanks panted, watching as she struggled to right her gaze with every hard fuck against the grass. “W-Who’s fucking you so good? Who’s cock are you screaming for?” Shanks hissed as she creamed on his cock again.

“Y-You~! S-Shanks! Shanks~! Sh—SHANKS!” Chloris yelped, crying out as she squirted hard against his thighs. Accidentally biting her tongue with a mild yelp. Shanks kissed her bared throat before lapping at her tongue, instantly drawn to her blood. Sucking it into his mouth with a groan as he drank the excess.

Shanks finally hilted in deep and came hard, panting against Chloris’ whining lips. Her thighs shaking against his grip as he collapsed onto her with a lazy hand swiping up her cunt to tease her clit for one more orgasm. Pinching as he sought to feel her cum on him one more time.

“R-Right here, Chloris. Take one more and we’re done, pretty girl.” Shanks chuckled as she arched underneath him, soaking his hand and cock. He meant his cum though, so he laughed and kissed her as she squirmed. Fucking her harder to stop overstimulating her. “Take it—take it, pretty girl. Scream if it makes you feel better, just take it—nngh!”

Shanks finally stilled, spilling into her welcoming cunt again with a deep, satisfied groan. Kissing her cheeks as he rolled onto his side, sliding his hand over her ass to keep his cock in place as he throbbed. She panted harshly, one leg trapped over his shoulder as the other weakly stretched over his hip as she hooked her foot around his thigh. Rolling her hip against him with a soft moan.

“S-Shanks~” Chloris smiled, stroking his bared skin.

Shanks kissed her gently.

“Do you live nearby, pretty girl? I’m in need of a place to stay—I promise I can earn my keep~” Shanks cooed, rolling his hip against hers with a sly grin. Chloris laughed, blushing hard as she looked away from his intense gaze.

“…perhaps… if you work a little harder?” She asked demurely.

Shanks laughed, thrilled at the challenge.

“Oh, I can ‘work’ a lot harder than that!” Shanks crowed, allowing his cock to slide onto her wet thighs so he could pick her up.

“I’m sure you can!” Chloris laughed, glancing to the east where he could faintly see a light through the trees.

Leaving their ripped clothing behind, Shanks pressed her back against the nearest tree.

“You sound like you don’t believe me?” Shanks mused, swiping a finger up her soaked thigh through the thick trail of cum, taking care to rub it into her cunt. Shanks waiting for a moment, teasing her clit until she began to squirm. Then he lifted her leg up high enough she had to rely on him for balance. Shanks slammed into the hilt, laughing at her sharp keen. “I better get started.”  

[why-what-no]

Lost & Forgotten

Part Two

Pairing: Morpheus x Magic!Reader

Warnings: Arguments, Amnesia

Summary: Morpheus goes to visit his former lover to apologize, only to figure out they had lost their memories of him.

Requested by: @melissablackrose

Morpheus first thought when he had returned to the Dreaming hadn’t been his old lover. However, they had been his second, and his third, and all his thoughts after that as he reclaimed his tools and dealt with the vortex.

He hadn’t meant to stay away for as long. Things just got in the way. The waking world and the Dreaming needed protection, and he did his best for it. But now that those messes were dealt with, he could afford to take time away to go find his former partner.

They hadn’t separated on good terms. Like all his past romances, it had ended with anger and denial. Morpheus’s pride in the way of his feelings, and (Y/N)‘s stubbornness taking control of the words they spoke.

“I’m done, Morpheus.” They told him, tone furious and eyes flicking with that same fire that he had fallen in love with. “I’m done with you.”

He shook his head, not believing their words. “You be gone for long, (Y/N). You could never truly forget about me.”

Their expression was unreadable. Always able to cloak their thoughts from him. “We’ll see about that.” They spit out, storming away from his throne room.

As it turned out, Morpheus had been the one unable to forget. Waiting for them to return although they didn’t. When he was trapped in his glass cage and his pride wounded, he began to realize he was the one who needed to fix things.

***

(Y/N) loved to live in the waking world, something Morpheus never quite understood. They always said they loved the frantic energy of humans. Their desire to do so much.

Their lives were so fleeting, but they used nearly every minute of it.

When he finally found (Y/N), they were sitting at some park. Sitting and relaxing, the sun enveloping them.

He watched them, concern taking over as he watched them take a bottle of pills out of their pocket and downing a couple. “Are you alright?” He asked, getting their attention.

They looked surprised that he was speaking to him, but eventually grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, just been having headaches. Don’t worry, these aren’t for fun.” They gestured to the pills.

“Oh. Good.” They seemed so much less angry that he expected. In fact, it was like they weren’t even bothered by his presence. “I hope the pain you’re feeling isn’t because of me.”

“You?” They looked perturbed, which made Morpheus worried for some reason. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

His blood went cold, beginning to realize what was happening. They had said that they would forget about him, and he knew they had the supernatural power to make that happen.

“Hey, are you alright?” They seemed worried about him as he froze up. It broke his heart even more then finding out they had used magic to scrub their memory.

He knew he had the power to change that, to bring their memory back. But… “Yes.” He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

For now, (Y/N) was lost to him, a thought that broke his heart. However, memory spells fade eventually, faster for immortals like them. And he could wait until then to apologize.

He would wait as long as he needed for them.

[moo-nstone]

the moon through the houses 

moon in the 1st house: very emotional and delicate - it's like you wear your heart on your sleeves. it's impossible for you to hide your feelings. enchanting aura. so so sensitive and it might be very easy to hurt you. you trust your intuition and gut feeling like no other and you make your decisions based on it, here is present a potential for intense psychic abilities where you might be able to predict things for others. when you were younger, your intuition might have been very overwhelming. spontaneous in your responses; with you, everything depends on your emotional state. you might pride yourself a lot on your empathetic nature, your need to take care of and nurture everyone, how affectionate you are - but you also want to be spoiled. a need to be noticed for your talents. controlling your mood swings is necessary to use your intuition constructively, to achieve your dreams - because truthfully, you can be too defensive and reactive; try not to take everything to heart. a need for emotional stimulation. you may act overly cold to protect yourself because you've been very hurt in the past. 

moon in the 2nd house: your emotional security depends on knowing that your financial future is stable - and the constant changes you might experience when it comes to your finances and your self-worth might bring you a lot of anxiety. there's a tendency to not realize your own worth. you want you and those close to you to always feel at home and nurtured, a home where you always feel protected and can protect them - be careful with putting other's needs above your own. you can take a lot of pleasure from making gifts for your loved ones. can easily go from very generous and offering everything to others to want to keep everything to yourself due to your fear of losing security. give off a mysterious and deep aura. emotional attachment to things that remind you of your past and those who you love. tendency to shop your problems away whenever you feel sad and empty. you hold on strongly to the ones you love and can be very possessive over them. honest to a fault; others might not be able to handle your honesty. incredibly artistic, you express your thoughts through the creation of art.  

moon in the 3rd house: your mind seems to run at a thousand kilometers per hour, and the amount of information you're capable of absorbing + your tendency to overthink might have you literally hurting from thinking so much. you react very fast to things. gaining knowledge makes you feel emotionally fulfilled. so eloquent and intelligent, with various interests and a love for sharing your ideas with others. a love for writing. ideas that bounce from one to the other. it almost feels like you have the answer to all the universe's secrets. fascinating thinking process, but you can get too stuck in the past sometimes. you get nervous whenever you spend too much time in one place, there's a need for constant change present here - but still, you are very attached to the places where you were raised. logic interconnecting with emotions. you love talking about your emotions and private matters, so others, sensing this disposition in you, might feel instantly safe when it comes to sharing their secrets with you. 

moon in the 4th house: you give great importance to your home and your family, and with them is where you feel the most emotionally secure. you might be very distrusting of strangers and it can be particularly hard to get close to you, but once someone's in, they'll feel your love forever. very sensitive to the needs of loved ones, like you have this intuition that allows you to feel what they feel. there's a need for change in your environment present here, you might feel the need to move somewhere else a lot in an attempt to deal with your inner restlessness. eventually, you'll have to learn that home isn't a place but it's something you carry with you wherever you go. for better or worse, your parents had a great impact on you. you might constantly be subconsciously looking for their approval. intense mood swings that only seem to become more prominent as the years go by, careful with letting insecurity take over you. breaking old habits can seem almost impossible, but if they're toxic, please learn to let them go. you can be very emotional and nostalgic, with a deep craving for intimacy. 

moon in the 5th house: you have such a kind and generous nature, always looking to look out for the lives of the ones you love. tendency to be overly dramatic and for exaggeration. a deeply creative soul, you easily express your emotions through art. a talent for acting and drama, a love for being the center of attention. imagination and daydreaming. so expressive, passionate, spontaneous. a love for intense romantic relationships, your passion is magnetic to others. although you can be too fond of taking risks - when it comes to money, buying things and love. might be too addicted to playing games rather than to the person who you're with. be careful with needing people to need you, and to get stuck in codependent relationships. can be overly authoritative. your charmingly childish spirit can have you being great with kids. constantly in a competition with yourself to be better, prettier, smarter, with better style, more successful. a need to be the best in everything you do. 

moon in the 6th house: very caring and emotional, with a deep need to help others around you. your emotional distress can easily physically manifest itself - stress, anxiety and feeling insecure can deteriorate your health dramatically. you care a lot for working hard and for being healthy. you feel the most emotionally satisfied when you're advancing in a job that you love, when you're able to make your coworkers feel like one big family, when you not only take care of the ones you love but you feel spoiled and nurtured back. tendency to panic when things don't go your way. your need for perfection can be downright toxic - you need to realize that you're a human who's allowed to make mistakes. a love for a stable routine. a talent for solving problems. you might be too selfless, helping without expecting anything in return - careful with being taken advantage of. you need variety in your career so you might constantly be changing jobs. you don't like to wallow, you want to move on from the things that make you feel stuck. a love for self-improvement. 

moon in the 7th house: you feel the most emotionally fulfilled when you're supported by the ones you love the most, when you feel secure and protected in their presence. you might often feel vulnerable, like you need to belong to someone else which is why the idea of soulmates is so attractive to you - but before loving others, you need to learn to love yourself, even the darkest parts that you try to pretend aren't there. be careful with staying in relationships where you're no longer happy and in love, security should be found in yourself and not in others. a love for romantic gestures, for intimacy and affection. you might use your personal relationships to get what you want. people skills - you're able to see all the perspectives in a situation and to adapt to others' needs, which is why you're so well-liked. friends that feel like family. very interested in their public persona and in being admired, and this need for an audience can be misunderstood by your partners. a talent for business and the arts. 

moon in the 8th house: you deeply want to connect with others, but your trust issues make it very difficult for you to let yourself trust your partners. you get easily attached to others because of that need for nurture, but on the other hand, there's a fear of rejection and loss present here. very supportive of your close ones, unconditional type of love. a tendency for possessiveness and jealousy, can also be controlling. you might be into going on a shopping spree every time you feel sad. hypnotizing look and magnetism. psychic abilities. you're very secretive because you don't want others to figure you out - you have a deep understanding of life and loved ones, knowing their darkest parts, but you don't like being known yourself, being very secretive about your emotions. can be emotionally unstable. you need intimacy to enjoy sex, you're not the type to enjoy having one-night stands. you hide the memories that pain you. you shouldn't ever allow life or a love betrayal to put out the spark of passion in you, because that's what makes you yourself. a desire to merge with someone, something else. 

moon in the 9th house: there's this craving present in you to escape, to constantly be on the move; a need for travel and to fall into the belief that the grass is greener on the other side - what are you trying to run away from? you need to understand that happiness comes not from a place but the inside; you are your home and no amount of moving will fill the emptiness inside of you if you're not willing to fill it with your own self-love. with a need to be constantly stimulated, you're terrified of routine. an innate need to know, explore, dream and delve into the deeper meanings of life. you don't want to change the world, you want to change the whole universe. a true visionary. a constant change of your life philosophy and interests. constantly traveling even if only in your mind - this placement makes for a daydreamer whose imagination enables you to fantasize about practically anything. a tendency to idealize the world - not all is as beautiful and good as you want it to be, the world is much darker and cruel. a capability of turning your dreams into reality. can have a tendency to be obsessive. you want to stimulate others’ minds with your words. 

moon in the 10th house: there's an extreme sensitivity to you that you can't hide from the world; but even if your overwhelming emotions are keeping you from appearing stable and composed, it's their intensity that will aid you in your ambitions to get to the top of the mountain. you aren't really private - you thrive when having a public, but be careful with getting involved with scandals for putting your life too out there for others to scrutinize. special charisma that others can't look away from. very indecisive when it comes to choosing a career because your emotions rule over what you want out of life. craving for recognition and success, and when you're not being admired, you may feel moody and deeply hurt. a need to nurture and protect the world. your parents' words, good or bad, have a big impact on you and drive you to succeed. very emotional when it comes to your loved ones, they might baby you a lot. an approach to reach your dreams that feels almost intuitive, like your brain is unconsciously wired to get you closer to them. difficulty with keeping relationships and secrets private because you always seem to be under the spotlight. 

moon in the 11th house: it's like you feel other people's pain and struggles, very sensitive to the pain of the world. here is present a need to ease others' burdens to feel emotionally fulfilled, you don't want your happiness to be your own only but want everyone to experience it. full of dreams, but they can change according to how you feel. can be emotionally unstable. a need for the support of your friends; when not feeling loved, it breaks your heart and makes you want to isolate yourself. you radiate charm and an intuitive knowing of how to make others have fun when in your presence. friends that feel like family. those of influence want to help you succeed. you need to rely on your intuition to figure out who's trustworthy and who isn't. you should work on your need to have the approval of others and understand that it's up to you to approve of yourself. can give a lot of conflicts with loved ones when you're at your most emotionally involved. easily impressed, independent and with an unconventional personality that others might disapprove of, but you're too unapologetically yourself to care. careful with attracting unstable people because you have a thing for those who society rejects. very private about your personal life. 

moon in the 12th house: you have an overwhelming sensitivity that can't be found in many others, like you intuitively feel what others are feeling, but all of these intense emotions might wear you down and disturb the sense of peace that you so desire. deeply empathetic. even though you understand what others feel, you might be very lost when it comes to your own emotions, needing to retreat from society every once in a while to recharge your energy. attracted by the unknown, all that is transcendental and far from the physical realm. psychic potential. incredible imagination; you might have a lot of vivid dreams and nightmares, which can give you a very chaotic sleeping pattern and even insomnia. artistic inclination, when you express your intensity through art you create magic. you might be attracted to secret love affairs and all that is forbidden. mysterious and secretive aura. fear of losing others and being abandoned because trust comes very hard to you. before succumbing to your need to help others, give yourself that kind of tenderness. you can't stand when others try to limit you. 

[elysianslove]

i would like you to consider cockwarming sukuna on his throne

i am considering. i am very much considering. 

let’s go back to you being his favorite girl in his little cult thing. 

this. this turned out so long. is this even a drabble anymore. 

he has you on display as always by his side, in some dress that doesn’t even count as a dress, just some cloth draped mercifully over your intimate parts, and it’s kind of transparent too. but today, today for some reason, he wanted you on his lap. you don’t understand, as you don’t most of the things he requests and asks of you, but like the obedient girl you are, you sit. you sit on his right thigh, twisting slightly so that you can face forward, with his arm coming around to squeeze at your bare waist. 

and it goes on like that for a while, a few weeks. every day you walk into his throne room, and every day he pats at his thighs, and every day you sit yourself where he wants you to. 

until one day, he asks something different. spectacularly different. with a few spectators, he dares to ask, “sit on my cock,” with inexplicable confidence.

it’s not the first time he’s requested something like this of you, and it wouldn’t be the first time you’d agreed. somewhere in between the gray lines of his morality, he finds it in him to hear your yes first, even if it’s as hesitant as ever. and who wouldn’t be? hesitant, that is. he’s no human, neither does he fuck like one, and his cock, for every night you’ve lain within his chambers, it splits you open, and every time he sinks into you, it feels as if you’re a virgin once more. but you’re not alone with him. you’ve let him do whatever he pleases, let him do whatever he desires, but alone, privately. 

but— 

daringly, your small voice asks, “n-now?”

he grins down at you from the height of his throne, teasingly glaring as he retorts, “do you have somewhere else to be?” 

although you want to do otherwise, you slowly shake your head, already approaching him. he nods, pleased and amused and satisfied, outstretching a hand for you as you climb up to him. your hand settles in his larger, warmer one, just as his other hovers by the skin that the dress reveals. “my little plaything,” he muses, a finger dancing along your waist, dipping at your hip. 

at his touch, you shiver. you try to withhold it, but he notices all too soon. 

“you’re scared?” he wonders, looking up at you. 

despite the fact that you’re the one looking down at him, he seems still so much larger than you. you bite back a whimper. you trust him. you trust him. you trust him. and you do, against all odds. in spite of everything, you really do trust him. it hadn’t always been like this, where barely any hate dwelled in your heart for him, but nights upon nights upon nights passed, and you began to understand that the same way people were made for certain things, like to be warriors who fight for their land and people, you were made to warm his bed and ease his suffering, to shoulder his burdens and responsibilities. it seems taxing, seems bothersome, seems sad. but it isn’t. not when he has the most beautiful of dresses sent to your chambers, woven from the finest silk from across the globe, and not when he keeps your belly full and hunger sated, and not when he treats at your wounds and eases your illnesses, and not when he wipes at your tears and kisses at your shoulder blades, no matter if it’s in the privacy of four walls. 

and it doesn’t matter where you’d started, where you’d begun. only where you are now. 

with every promise he’s made you kept in mind, you steel yourself, and shake your head. he grins again, lifting up the hand that’s intertwined with yours. “of course you aren’t,” he says, and he’s not mocking you. he’s proud. 

the hand in yours lifts up higher until he’s urging you to twirl around, and at the insinuation, you pause. “everyone will see,” you quietly warn, voice cracking. 

he doesn’t let you falter in your step as he pushes you on his lap, just like every other day, except you feel it, his cock, hard and hot and stiff at your lower back, bulging through his kimono. “i know,” he replies. his legs spread, widening, and you nearly fall had it not been for his grip on your waist. “i want them to.” 

you shiver again, but you don’t attempt to hide it this time, not when you can hear the squelch of his hand stroking at his cock, slow and languid, and not when he pushes aside the dress, easily revealing your ass to him. the dress had essentially been a piece of cloth draped over each shoulder, resting over your breasts before sinking between your legs, while it hangs loosely all along your back, hooked at your waist with a simple string, with your sides are completely revealed. had he been planning this the whole time, then, from the moment he’d had you dressed in this? 

his fingers dip to your cunt, spreading your folds and teasing at your clit. at the stimulation, your hands rush to grasp the throne’s arms tightly. the crowd beneath you slowly starts to vanish when he urges you up, when he brings the fat head of his cock to your hole, when he sits you down, fills you up to the brim inch by inch until you positively feel him in your throat, your thighs flush against his. all the scowling faces of jealous girls and the disappointed faces of men and women alike, all the villagers that call you a whore and all the men that whistle at the sight, disappear, and it’s as if you really are alone with him. 

you trust him. 

the hand on your waist presses you back and you fall, sighing delightfully as you rest against him, back pressed to his chest, head lolling on his shoulder. sukuna’s unmoving, not thrusting up into you or forcing your hips to roll and grind against his. his cock twitches inside of you, begging for attention, and you squeeze and clench down on him, just the way you’ve learnt he loves, and still, he doesn’t make a move to fuck you. 

you’re breathless, somehow you are, and you hiccup lightly before you whine, “s-sukuna.”

soothingly, he shushes you. “spread your legs,” he commands, softly, and you do. you obey, pushing your legs open, letting either leg hang over either of his thighs, loosely and helplessly. the dress falls to between your legs, concealing you modestly. he hums in appraisal, arms twisting to wrap tightly around you. you’re already so delirious, mind hazing over as you twist your neck to bury your face against neck. his arms, large as ever, hold you close to him, and still, all you do is sit on his cock. yet, you don’t have it in you to complain, because this is somehow just as satisfying as ever he’s ever done to your body. 

“sukuna,” you moan again, but you’re not asking anything of him. 

“perfect,” he whispers, craning his head lower to kiss at where your neck meets your shoulder. “so obedient.” you moan again, unintentionally grinding down against him. “i can feel the rage of those girls beneath, wishing it was their cunt swallowing my cock whole.” at his words, you whine, in annoyance, in anger. “yeah,” he quietly agrees. “never a cunt like yours, my sweet thing.” your body’s impossibly heating up, and you’re doing your all not to writhe in his grasp, opting for futile squirming. he can tell, because of course he can, and he shushes you again. 

“stay still for me, darling,” he urges you, and you huff, sinking into his hold. “and i promise i’ll fuck you the very way you love tonight.” 

he waits for you to nod, and once you breathlessly, mindlessly, do, he grins again, shifting in his seat until he sits high again, leaving one arm around you and keeping you pressed to him as he leans his elbow on the opposite arm of the throne, resting his chin in his palm. and then, he briefly nods at a man kneeling beneath his throne, and says, “now, back to this.” 

swag lip bite emoji 

[rocorambles]

Unnatural

Pairing: Vampire Oikawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Blood...a lot of blood

Summary: You don’t realize just how right you are about there being something different about Oikawa.

There’s something unnatural about Oikawa.

Your fellow managers and assistants for Argentina’s national volleyball team just giggle and tease you when you tipsily voice your concern one day. But you adamantly continue voicing your impromptu dissertation.

Isn’t it weird that he’s never tired? He never even seems to break a sweat!

They wave you off, awestrukenly raving about how hard he works and practices. Of course his endurance is above and beyond the norm.

Strike one.

Fine, but isn’t it a bit strange that he always insists on eating alone?

They shrug. You’re not entirely wrong. It is a little unusual, but lots of people don’t like others watching them when they eat. Besides, he’s Argentina’s new star player and every star has their quirks.

Strike two.

Your fuzzy brain is running out of definite points and you’re well past the number of shots your tolerance allows. Maybe that’s why you blurt out the latest observation that has all your fellow female coworkers shrieking and fawning over Oikawa Tooru.

He literally sparkles in the sun. How is that even humanly possible?!

Don’t be so dramatic. We know you don’t like to admit you’re just as head over heels for him as we are, but even you have to admit he’s eye-catching. No judgement here. After all, none of us can take our eyes off him either when they practice outside in the sun.

They playfully nudge you, grinning and letting you know it’s all in good humor. And you know you’ve officially struck out, all your concerns easily waved away as they order another round of shots and urge you to drink up.

Unknown to you, your doubts aren’t nearly as subtle as you think, although you can’t be blamed for not being aware of Oikawa’s heightened senses. He can feel your eyes intensely examining him, different than the vapid heart-eyes your other companions give him. He can hear you whisper to them about all the little ticks he’s surprised you’ve even noticed.

If he’s honest, he’ll admit you’ve got him off-guard, a feeling he hasn’t experienced in centuries. Was he getting sloppy with mixing in with humanity and hiding his true nature? Was he getting weaker? He tests his glamour just to reassure himself, satisfied by the loud squeals he hears from the rest of the female staff on the sidelines when he gives them a wink and a peace sign. But he pouts at your much less enthused figure.

Why doesn’t his glamour work on you- Oh. He hides a smile as he focuses in on the rabid beating of your heart. Interesting. It does work on you, you’re just a little more resistant about your desires than most.

Mystery solved. You’re not the first hard-headed woman who’s tried to defy the intoxicating nature of his glamour, of his being. And he pays you no more mind. Someone as straight laced as you would never come to the ridiculous conclusion that he’s a vampire.

Except as fate would have it, it’s not you he needs to be worried about. It’s himself that he should be more cautious of.

He can see it all happen in slow motion, knows that his teammate isn’t jumping at the correct angle, knows that the ball is going to go flying errantly. And all he can do is watch in sickening fascination as the volleyball goes hurtling directly at your face. The force of the object crushing your nose echoes in his sensitive ears and he winces in sympathy only to freeze as the most alluring smell begins to overwhelm the gym.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

He’s not a rookie changeling or a newly turned vampire who has no control of his urges. He’s fucking royalty, a pureblood, ancient and well versed even by the high standards of his species. And you are hardly the first human whose blood he’s been around.

Yet it feels like he’s experiencing his first century all over again and it takes every bit of self control he has left not to let chocolate orbs bleed crimson, to let his fangs extend, to drink you dry right there and then. You smell absolutely divine and he humorlessly chuckles at the irony of the predicament he’s in now after his arrogance has led him to criticize so many of his peers over the centuries who’ve given into their base desires and instincts.

Maybe he does owe little Tobio an apology…

But that’s neither here nor now and he focuses on the crowd forming around your fallen figure.

“I’ll take her to the nurse.”

He fights the urge to roll his eyes when his panicked teammate who had caused your injury insists on being the one to take you, guilt evident in the slump of his shoulders. And instead he smiles in an award-worthy act as he adds a bit of glamour to his voice.

“It’s not your fault. Accidents happen in sports. I’ll take her and you just focus on getting your head back in practice. You can apologize as much as you want when she’s all healed up.”

Oikawa always gets his way and he smugly grins as he easily hauls you to the nurse’s office where all it takes is another few glamoured words to have the room emptied and at his disposal. And then it’s just you and him and he hungrily eyes the way blood trails from your nose, down the side of your face, until crimson begins to stain the once white bed sheets.

“Oikawa?”

Oh poor thing. Your voice is nasally, tone confused as you blearily try to understand what’s happening and where you are through the pain. All the better to glamour you with and he coaxes you into laying back down and relaxing, telling you that he’s just there to help you.

You barely register the swipe of something across your face and you assume Oikawa is wiping off the blood. And in a way you’re right. Except instead of a wipe, it’s his tongue languidly licking you clean.

You taste even better than you smell and he can’t hold himself back. He had only wanted a little taste, but there’s no turning back now. Your whimpers of confusion as cold fingers swiftly undress you are quickly shushed and then all you know is a blinding piercing pain followed by an ecstasy you never thought was possible.

All he had wanted was a meal, but you’re insistent on giving him a show as well and who is he to deny your gracious gift? He groans as the scent of your arousal intermingles with the heady tang of your blood, fangs sinking in slightly deeper than he had intended as he unconsciously ruts against your hapless body. With a gasp he lifts himself from your neck, practically growling in impatience and lust as he shoves his shorts and boxers down until his throbbing cock is freed.

He cruelly laughs at how you writhe and moan beneath him, pitifully begging for more, more, more. Pathetic little human. You don’t even know what you’re asking for and his cock twitches at how cute you’d look, terrified at the realization of what he is, what he had done to you, and how you had liked it, loved it even. He’s almost tempted to pull you out of your forced haze now, wondering if your horrified screams would be even more melodic than your wanton moans. But there’s no time for that now and he wants his first time to be uninterrupted, even as adorable as you are when you fight back.

With all your walls forced to come crashing down, you really are an insatiable creature and he darkly grins at how much of a slut you truly are, practically gushing and cumming with every bite. He sinks his fangs into the swells of your breasts, smirking at how your own hands come to roll and twist your nipples, a silly smile spreading across your face. He travels down, moaning as he sees how much slick you’ve accumulated between your legs, piercing your inner thigh and forcing your thrusting hips to stay still as he feasts on you, mixing the blood with your sticky nectar.

You’re so close to another high and he can practically taste the way your heart is skyrocketing, feel the way your body is tightening. He’ll be damned if he misses his opportunity to be intertwined with you as you break apart once again and he rapidly adjusts himself, once again roughly sinking his fangs into the crook of your neck as he slams balls deep inside of you in one thrust.

The dual sensation is more than enough to have you tumbling over the edge and your scream echoes as your vision turns black and white as your eyes roll into the back of your head. But unlike the previous times where Oikawa had shown mercy and given you at least some time to recover from your climaxes by slowing down his ministrations and licking your open wounds close, this time he only becomes rougher as your orgasm crashes around you.

His hips thrust in and out of you at an inhuman pace. He’s drinking so much from you that you can feel the beginning of lightheadedness from the blood loss. You’re literally dying, but all you can do is take it and moan, lost in the pleasure, lost in the haze he’s enveloped you in. And just when you think this is the end, that your life is over, you whimper, clutching the rumpled linens tight as he slams one last time inside of you and fills you full of sticky seed.

You’re a sight for sore eyes, looking absolutely fucked silly and blissed out despite the borderline grotesque rivulets of blood staining almost every inch of you. It’s like you were made to be a blood pet and despite having just had his way with you, he can feel lust stirring inside of him once again at the thought of you collared and bound to his throne, his bed, your only purpose to sustain him with the lifeforce running through your veins.

But all in due time and he calls the nurse back to attend to you once all hints of foul play are gone before walking back to practice, a thoughtful smile on his lips as he begins to plan, already thinking of what else he has in store for you and eager for another taste of you.

Didn’t you recently say you were living alone?

[the-final-sif]

Going back to my "c!Dream is possessed by a dreamon but neither of them know what they're doing AU" I wanted to clarify some things.

First and foremost, is that both Dream and the Dreamon are in a state of "I didn't think I'd get this far".

The Dreamon has never had someone try to combat it by severing ties before, and frankly, it doesn't know what to do. As mentioned previously it really doesn't want to be exposed as Dream has managed to convince it that his friends are capable of trapping it in Limbo. But it also isn't actually great at social interaction so it doesn't know how to mend Dream's relationships.

Meanwhile, Dream is over here making up bullshit on the fly with 10% of the information and no impluse control. He is astounding at the amount of lying he has managed to get away with.

Now it's worth noting here that as an Admin, Dream is fucking weird. He's very powerful and skilled, but he uses all of that power and skill to run a backwater near vanilla server for like 20 people.

Although when I say skilled, I mean Skilled in the way of a self-taught programer whose never had to do code review even once. Does it work? Yes. Exceptionally well. Could any other human being understand it? No. Not for a second.

He can create stuff on the fly though, even complicated ideas.

Like, for example, a god.

Or a weird, vague death system.

Or another dimension inaccessible without that weird death system.

Yeah, so basically c!Dream totally made up the idea of canon deaths and limbo, and then used DreamXD to implement them.

Oh, yeah, right, DreamXD!

So what's up with this guy?

Well, the long and the short of it is Dream created him.

XD was a server process (visualized as little dream blobs), specifically the server process that prevented End portals from activating. "XD" was just his designation.

Early on in his possession, Dream managed to wrench back enough control to have a few minutes in the meat suit. He used this time to collect a buclet of milk and call XD to him.

The he did something that any reasonable admin would call "batshit insane" and "utterly irresponsible".

Going off what he knew (the end poem and basically nothing else), he turned XD into a player of sorts. He used the milk as raw material to give XD a body, and then he fractured off a part of his own "soul" to give XD proper life.

Specifically, he gave XD a large part of all of his memories of loving & caring for the members of the server. How he became friends with them, and that desire to protect them. He gave XD a concept of love, and then he gave him three more things.

Admin abilities came next, transfering near full control of the server to XD and blocking c!Dream out of almost everything.

Second, he gave XD his mission. "Keep them free. Keep them safe. Try not to get hurt, if you can. After I change back, you'll need to stay away from me."

Finally, he was able to give XD a rough breakdown of how the death system needed to work (a quarantined dimension with time flowing differently to disrupt the infection capability of the Dreamon), but by then the Dreamon had finally managed to get some control back.

XD left with his new mission, a barely stable mess of code with plenty of internal conflict between his initial status as a pure program and now his new status as a player.

For quite awhile, XD sits back and watches. He takes the time to learn more, about what it even means to be free. About what it means to love others, what it means to be safe.

Finally, he starts interacting when Wilbur and Schlatt "die" (in reality, both were very susceptible to the Dreamon's infections due to their compromised mental states and required time away to recovery before they hit the critical point.)

XD starts out rather shy but gets steadily bolder as time wears on and he gets more comfortable with human interaction and begins to develop his own personality.

Also he still protects the end, even if the portals wouldn't work anyways. Because!! That's his first job!! It's in his nature!!! Go away Technoblade!!!

XD is an absolute mess, but he's trying his very best! He has very complicated jobs, with no easy answers, but he's working at it!

c!Dream is very proud of him. The Dreamon fucking hates him.

Oh speaking of c!Dream, he retains two admin abilities, both of which the Dreamon cannot access due to the complexity of them

First, resurrection. (This is actually just a teleportation command, shhhh)

Second, for various reasons he needed to retain the ability to alter player code. Mostly to enable resurrection, but he figures out it can also be used to alter/block memories to some extent.

The Dreamon really wants access to these abilties, unfortunately, despite it's best efforts it's unable to understand c!Dream's weird spaghetti code.

I feel like I should probably explain Ranboo's role in this AU soon, because he is a central figure, but like, I'm not sure if people are emotionally ready for that mess so I'll leave it for now.

[amistytown]

The Brothers Comfort MC During a Panic Attack

This is my first attempt at writing down my headcanons for the brothers, so I apologize if anything is out of character. I meant it to be short and sweet, but it grew out of my control after a while. I’m a perfectionist and wanted to rewrite everything. I made minor edits and am posting it anyway or it’ll sit in my drafts forever; I admit I put the most effort into Lucifer’s, forgive me. Also sorry for the repetitiveness and any typos you may find. I decided to write how the brothers would comfort MC during a panic attack, especially as someone who suffers from anxiety and panic attacks themselves. Honestly, I wrote this as a way to comfort myself since I’ve been dealing with terrible anxiety lately. Of course, everyone experiences anxiety differently, so I can only speak from my own experiences. I didn’t go into detail when it comes to the symptoms themselves because it’s from the point of view of the brothers and only so many are visible to the eye. Trigger warning for depictions of anxiety and panic attacks. Thank you for reading!

LUCIFER

Lucifer is troubled. Following lunch, you disappeared, currently absent from class. This is unlike you, his worry intensifying every minute you’re out of his sight. Yet he maintains his composure, resigning himself to scouring the academy grounds. Time passes at a torturous pace, his thoughts beginning to take a turn for the worst. He contemplates whether to involve his brothers and Lord Diavolo himself at this rate, however the sound of his D.D.D diverts his attention. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of your name lighting up his screen, chased by frustration at you, your silence, and himself for losing track of you so easily; he couldn’t bear living if anything happened to you under his watch. He expects this behavior from his brothers, not you. Though his heart sinks, the Avatar of Pride uncharacteristically overcome with guilt while he reads your message. Of course, you are not his brothers. He should not have doubted you.

Your texts are apprehensive, a weighty pause between them as you hesitate to lay bare the darkest depths of your soul. He approaches you cautiously, to avoid upsetting you further. Your words alone convey the sheer panic taking possession of you, the last of your strength used to press send. Outside he discovers you, huddled miserably in an isolated corner of the building, swathed in shadow. The desire to shelter you from the world burns within him, but your eyes widen fearfully in his presence, wounding his pride. Immediately, you apologize. Sorry you’re missing class, that you left without telling anyone, and upset him—especially when you’re aware of his busy schedule. You’re sorry for not having the courage to pull yourself together, succumbing to your anxiety, your shame palpable. The hand clutching your D.D.D is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. He aches for you, each tear shed hurting more than the last, your pain managing to touch the very core of his being and set him alight.

If anyone is sorry, it’s him, pride be damned. Kneeling in front of you, he assures you an apology isn’t necessary—your wellbeing of great importance to him. He wants you to rely on him, grateful you confided in him despite your doubts. Hopefully, he can eventually put your mind at ease. His voice low, soothing, he continues to console you, making sure you’re aware he’s not upset, and your feelings are valid. Although he’s not familiar with the inner workings of anxiety itself, he’s willing to listen, learning how to support you to the best of his ability—starting today, providing you’re comfortable accepting his offer. Initially, he prioritized your safety for the sake of the exchange program and Lord Diavolo’s wish to unite the three realms, now it’s merely out of adoration for you, his beloved. Once you’re ready, he’ll let you know you’re not alone. He’s never too busy on your behalf. 

Offering you his hand, a smile graces his features as you accept. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. He notes the way you relax at his touch, shoulders sagging and head coming to rest on his chest. Only you exist in this moment, his gaze not leaving you, not even for a second. Standing in silence until your breathing settles and you regain your balance, he sees you through the height of your attack before escorting you back to the House of Lamentation. He’ll personally excuse you from the remainder of your classes, understanding you need a quiet place to recover. Classical music plays softly in the background of his room, and he’s content to have you in his embrace, drawing you onto his lap after you finish the tea he brewed to calm your nerves. Lucifer pays you special attention, massaging your tired body and kissing you tenderly, his breath fanning across your lips as he reminds you how special you truly are—brave, compassionate, and incredibly loved.

MAMMON

Mammon mourns his loss, wondering how he let them gain the upper hand; admittedly, a foolish mistake on his part. He dreads breaking the news to Lucifer, and the resentment that shows on his brothers’ faces once he confesses does little to ease his mind. Still, he worries about your reaction most of all, knowing his stupidity has put you in a precarious position. In that moment he believes their words—only a greedy scumbag like himself dares to place his human’s happiness on the line. Although certain of his win at the time, he should consider how his actions affect you more often; otherwise, how can he claim he’s the Great Mammon? His confidence is his downfall in the end. Now you’ll suffer along with him. Yet you feign optimism, attempting to soothe everything over despite your innocence. His guilt only grows, a heavy weight on his shoulders. One he deserves.

Three days of waiting on and performing for large crowds at The Fall proves hectic for everyone. He can tell you’re struggling beneath the façade of a composed and hospitable server, going above and beyond to ensure the patrons leave satisfied. Furthermore, you lend him and his brothers a hand, coming to their rescue; it should be him making it as easy on you as possible. His concern for you runs deep, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his usual air of indifference, but you have the nerve to reassure him—it’s meant to be the opposite, dammit. Each night he goes out of his way to check on you, frustrated that you continue to dance around the subject. He can see the exhaustion on your face, hear the slight tremor in your voice, the toll his stupid decision is taking on you, and it stung. You comfort him, even when he’s undeserving, so why won’t you allow him to hold you and kiss the pain away? Not that he’s asked. You should realize by now you can rely on him, right?

Watching you suffer in silence tortures him. He can’t deny it regardless of his best effort to make light of the situation. You barely eat or spend time outside your room, saying you’re tired, which isn’t a lie—working is exhausting, no doubt about it—but he understands you well enough to notice the subtle signs of your anxiety, your smile unable to trick him into believing otherwise. Perhaps you find him as insufferable as his brothers do, or worse, and don’t want to see his face after what he’s done. That doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, hoping he can offer some form of comfort. However, you keep up appearances, supporting the seven of them during the longest weekend of their lives. You work hard too, his chest swelling with pride as he watches you care for his brothers and customers alike. How can you like an idiot like him? You’re selfless and loving, looking past his flaws to see what lay beneath his sin. His human. His angel. He wants—no needs—you to be okay.

The last day comes and goes in a blur. Finally, he can toss these ridiculous clothes and rabbit ears in the trash and never perform that dance again. Better yet, you’re free of his burden, though the guilt remains. He can’t relax until he’s positive you’re okay, knowing he’s genuinely sorry. Standing outside your room, he tries to muster up the courage to open his heart to you—apologies not his strong suit—when he hears you crying. They’re small, muffled sobs that manage to shake him to his core, blood running cold. Yeah, he should knock, but he can’t control himself, throwing the door open without hesitation and rushing to your side. The sight of your tears is almost too much to bear, and he draws you into his embrace, face heating up at his own moment of vulnerability, but this is about you, not him. He can be strong for you too, telling you everything’s going to be okay, that the Great Mammon is here to help.

After his stupidity, you tell him you were afraid to bother him? He can hardly suppress the shock at your confession, the sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. You wanted to make sure it went smoothly for his sake? You suffer through Hell alone because you chose to put his feelings first? Crazy. Though he thanks you, not completely ashamed to admit he’s touched. However, he tells you that you don’t have to put aside your feelings for his benefit; he prefers to be by your side then know you’re having a rough time on your own. He is your first. Taking the initiative, he asks what he can do to make it up to you, no matter how big or small the request is because he’ll do it in a heartbeat. You opt to stay in his arms, burying your face into his chest, and he wipes away your remaining tears, being as gentle as he possibly can. He can feel how tense your body is, your skin unnaturally warm, and it takes a while until you stop shaking. It’s moments like these he’ll tell you how much you mean to him—that he loves you, okay—and he wants you to come to him for everything. He’ll hold you, taking your hand in his, and kiss you with all the adoration in the world because you’re incredibly important to him. Mammon can attest to that.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan invites you to his room to play video games, a daily routine the two of you have comfortably fallen into. He loves gaming with you, though on occasion you opt to watch instead, thoroughly enthralled by whatever is on the screen. Miraculously, you enjoy listening to him ramble—whether it’s about the game he’s playing, anime he’s watching, or TSL among other things—genuinely showing interest in his passions; he’s incapable of expressing how truly grateful he is for your company. His heart nearly bursts whenever you compliment him on his gaming prowess, encourage him during a particularly intense battle, or merely tell him how you enjoy hanging out. How in the Devildom did a gross otaku like him get so incredibly lucky? He can hardly believe you love him of all demons. The thought alone sounds crazy lmao. 

Unable to contain his excitement, he awaits your arrival that night, ensuring everything is perfect when he hears a knock on the door. However, his smile fades the moment he lays eyes on you, mind beginning to race as he wonders why you look miserable, your gaze trained on your hands. Before he can speak, you apologize, dissolving into tears while you return the game he let you borrow. You’re stuttering, completely winded, and he can barely hear you confess to accidentally corrupting his data in your panic. In fact, he loses track of the number of times you choke out a sorry. He treasures his games, his collection extensive, but he cherishes you most of all. The loss is a minor annoyance, nothing that lessens the feelings he harbors for you. Although difficult, he overcomes his insecurities to show you it’s okay—you’re loved.

Not only are you sad, but you’re also terrified, a part of him wanting to destroy the game itself if it means you never have to experience the pain that torments you now. Regarding you carefully, afraid to make matters worse, he reassures you that he’s not upset—far from it, honestly—and that he cares about you more than any game. No stranger to your panic attacks, he reaches out to take your hand in his, hoping you find comfort in what he has to offer. And when you finally glance up, hope shining in your tear-filled eyes, he can’t help but wrap you in his arms. A warmth spreads across his face, heart pounding in his ears, but he knows you need him, allowing his body to relax around yours.

Holding you against him, he tells you everything’s all right, stuttering out how he loves you and, most importantly, wants to you to feel better. Your arms circle around his waist, causing his heart to jump into his throat, but he only pulls you closer. You’re his Henry, and what friend is he if you can’t rely on him? Leviathan is understanding, wanting you to come to him for support at your most vulnerable. Now he puts his knowledge to the test, easing you into his room with continuous words of affirmation. You always know how to console him at his lowest, and he hopes he can return the favor. If anyone deserves to feel loved it’s you, who brought joy into his otherwise bleak world, and he’ll sit with you every day and night if you need him to. 

SATAN

Satan knows he shouldn’t be awake, though he finds it difficult to satiate his curiosity as he peruses the books lining his shelves. He barely registers the sound of his D.D.D, reluctant to put the book aside to see who’s messaging him at this ungodly hour; Asmodeus most likely. His tune changes after he sees your name lighting up his screen, his annoyance replaced with worry. He knows you struggle, especially at night, but he can tell you’re hesitant to reach out. Nevertheless, you gradually begin to confide in him, his patience limitless if you’re concerned, and he feels a sense of relief that you choose to trust him at your most vulnerable instead of suffering on your own. Pouring over every book he can locate on anxiety, he studies it religiously, engraining each page into his memory. Not by giving unsolicited advice—he doesn’t want to make that mistake twice—but by comforting you the best he can, even if it simply means to stay by your side, waiting for the panic to pass.

A second later, he appears at your door, gaze softening as your eyes meet. In the darkness of your room, he can tell how exhausted you are. You apologize for bothering him, particularly this late, but he dismisses you with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile, sitting beside you on the bed. It saddens him that you feel the need to, but he’s familiar enough with anxiety by now that he understands how much of a manipulative monster it truly is; if only he can destroy it with his own two hands, strangling the life out of it so it no longer taints that innocent soul of yours. To watch you struggle fills him with a rage that he forces deep within himself, fully aware anger isn’t the answer no matter how great his desire to protect you is. So, he cups your face in his hands, your skin warm beneath his fingers as he strokes your flushed cheeks and presses your foreheads together. 

Focus on him, he tells you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his voice while he whispers words of love and encouragement. He never tires of letting you know how beautiful and strong you are, that he’s always here for you and loves you—all of you. You unravel in his arms, opening your heart up to him, and he listens intently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips the moment you look uncertain. You’re not a burden he promises, hoping one day you’ll believe it yourself, but he’ll remind you every chance he gets; forever if he must. It’s worth it in the end, when you relax against him and smile, kissing him in return. Slowly, the anxiety leaves your body, Satan thankful that the waves of panic have receded enough to let you rest your weary mind. He remains next to you, pulling you down to lay your head on his chest and closing your hand in his, entwining your fingers. He’s content here with you, watching you fall asleep and chasing away the nightmares.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus loves shopping, but he loves shopping with you most of all. The day is bright with you by his side, and he can’t help but buy you clothes and matching accessories to bring out your inherent charm. Your potential is endless, and he gushes over how gorgeous you are, unable to contain his excitement when your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink in return. He can hardly control himself around you, gaze fixated on your every movement and heart racing each time you flash him one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen; your very soul seeming to shine through and blind him. Nothing prepares him for the love he feels for you, but he considers it a welcome surprise, his desire to grow closer to you intensifying day after day. You captivate him, the Avatar of Lust of all demons. What an exciting turn of events!

Of course, he attracts attention wherever he goes, posing for pictures with adoring fans and basking in the compliments constantly thrown his way; nothing new, but he enjoys it, nonetheless. Who can resist the allure of his very presence? However, anger wells within him at the sight of you being shoved to the side, falling to the ground and lost to the crowd that has gathered. Their words of flattery fall on deaf ears as he rushes to you, throwing a heated glance at the lowly demon who dares to touch his darling human. He desires nothing more than to punish them for such an injustice, but the fear in your eyes tells him otherwise. By the time he scoops you up into his arms you’re trembling from head to toe, and he can feel your heart pounding against him. A part of him places the blame on himself, an unfamiliar feeling, but he chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on getting you home in your worsening state.

In the peace and quiet of his room, he sits you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he affectionately runs his fingers through your hair. He can tell you’re upset—in an absolute state of panic by the looks of it—and all he can do is hold you through it, quietly asking what you need and willing to answer your every beck and call if it means that adorable smile graces your features once more. For a moment he considers seeking out Lucifer, worried something has gone terribly wrong, but thankfully you find your voice, mumbling into his chest about anxiety and panic attacks, that you’ll be fine—eventually—and are sorry for ruining your date. He doesn’t understand completely, though he knows you need him, promising to stay by your side for as long as you want. Kissing your cheek, he assures you there’s no need to apologize to him, your safety more important than anything else; the demon who laid his hands on you won’t go without punishment either.

Admitting a bath helps calm you down, he prepares one for you, steam rising from the surface and the heady scent of roses filling the air. Together you slip into the water, enveloped by its warmth, and he hums in contentment as you lean into him, his arms coming to rest around your waist. He watches you carefully, making sure you’re able to relax and preparing himself in case you call on him; he’ll do anything for you if it brings you the happiness you deserve. Your eyes flutter close, Asmodeus showering you with delicate kisses, comforted by the fact your breathing has levelled out and you appear a lot calmer than before. The day didn’t go as planned, and he hopes to make it up to you, vowing that no one else will hurt you on his watch. He loves himself. He loves his brothers. But loves you most of all.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub notices you haven’t touched your dinner and is beyond happy the moment you offer your plate to him. Yet he can’t bring himself to enjoy the food in front of him while you excuse yourself from the table, eyes downcast and voice quiet, the usual smile gone from your face and leaving behind an emptiness that rivals his own hunger. His mouth waters at the thought of seconds, but his concern for you grows, and he decides to follow you without question, disregarding the ravenous growl of his stomach. He catches you in the hallway, calling out your name. You turn to him, his brow furrowing in unease at the sight of your tears and the slight tremble of your lip. It hurts him to see you in obvious distress, and he earnestly offers his support.

The only sound is that of your sobbing. He desperately wishes to hold you tightly and rid you of your pain. However, he falters, studying you. Your gaze is trained on the floor, shoulders stiff with tension, and the color drains from your cheeks. When you speak, he’s surprised by how helpless you sound and the fact you’re trying to reassure him, putting his needs above your own although you’re struggling to hold yourself together. Fear flickers across your features at the echo of the brothers’ voices travelling up the stairs, and he mumbles out an apology as he carefully lifts you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. 

Before the others can round the corner, he hurries down the hall and slips into your room, determined to protect his vulnerable human. He notices you relax against him, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he can’t help but want to keep you close, relieved after you lean in closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Stroking your hair, he allows you to cry, his patience and love for you endless. Eventually, you mutter an embarrassed sorry, thanking him profusely, but he’s merely relieved you’re beginning to feel a bit better, reassuring you that you can always depend on him. 

Listening to you intently, he never breaks eye contact. You open up to him about your anxiety, his stomach twisting as you describe what you call a panic attack and how it wrecks you both mentally and physically. Beelzebub knows he has a lot to learn, but he expresses interest in understanding anxiety and, most importantly, how he can help you, so you don’t suffer alone. For the rest of the night, he keeps you company and eases you through the remainder of your attack, giving you plenty of hugs and rubbing your back in soothing circles until you no longer shake, and your heartbeat returns to its usual pace.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor enjoys the time you spend together, especially when the two of you are alone. He asks you to accompany him in the attic, and it’s not long before he curls around you, falling into a peaceful sleep as he listens to the steady beat of your heart. However, when he awakes it’s to the sound of your soft cries in the dark, which fill him with a fear he can’t seem to shake. Without hesitation he’s at your side, sitting up to softly place a hand on your shoulder and ask you what’s wrong. The sadness in your eyes as you glance up at him, tears staining your cheeks, tugs at his heartstrings. He can’t bear to see you upset.

Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he’s attentive to your needs, cradling you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You confided in him about your struggles with anxiety after you fell to pieces in front of him months ago. A part of him understands, the loss of Lilith haunting him throughout the years and instilling a similar feeling of unease within him, especially when his nightmares seem to blur the line between reality and the painful memories of his past. You always came to his rescue and now it’s his turn to comfort you in your time of need. Sleep can wait.

With you in his embrace, he brings you down to relax against the pillows, pulling the blanket around your shivering form. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he gently brushes the remaining tears from your face, whispering words of love and reassurance. He listens to you when you’re comfortable to talk, the slight tremble of your voice causing him to draw you closer and press a kiss to your forehead. Belphegor tells you he’s here for you—forever—and although he’s still learning about anxiety and finding the best ways to comfort you during an attack, he wants you to depend on him no matter what. Even if that means you wake him up in the middle of the night. He won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms.

[pillage-and-lute]

Prompt: Either out of embarrassment or being a little shit, Jaskier lies outrageously to Geralt about humans (on the level of “I’m molting” or “These? They’re rocks, to snack on.”) and might get away with it?

Hi Dahliavandare! I always love seeing you in my inbox. I changed this just a *teeny* bit. WARNING: VERY SLIGHTLY HORNY (it’s Jaskier, duh) There is also a little bit of angst because Jaskier gets sick.

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

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled.

“What?” The young bard yelped. “I wasn’t even singing that time.”

“No, you just--hmmm.”

“I just hmmm what?” Jaskier asked, pausing in his near-constant strumming.

“You smell like...hmm.”

“I smell?” Jaskier said, both hands planted on his hips. “That’s pretty rich coming from you, my friend--”

“Not friends.”

“You smell like a barn. Anyway-”

“No, Jaskier,” Geralt said, running one, gloved hand through his hair. “Witchers can sort of smell emotions, right?”

Jaskier looked up at him, a sudden hint of anxiety in his scent. “I thought that was a myth.”

“Not entirely.” Geralt shook his head as if clearing a thought from it. “We can’t smell complex things, but joy, fear, anger...desire.”

Jaskier, for once, didn’t look at Geralt, studying instead the flowers at the side of the road. “Desire?”

“I-yes.” Geralt said. “And I wanted to know if all humans smell like...”

“Desire?” Jaskier said, then began talking fast. “Oh yes, of course, most humans, especially my age, well, they smell like this all the time. All the time. Naturally.”

It sort of checked out, at least to Geralt’s thinking. Young humans were horny, and although the overriding scent when Geralt was around was fear, he remembered being a teenager, with all the baggage that entailed at Kaer Morhen, and yes, constantly horny was among those memories. Jaskier himself was definitely still young by human standards, perhaps twenty or so from his youthful features. 

Geralt chalked the horniness up to humanity and hormones and left it at that. 

--- 

Later on, Geralt had other questions related to humanity, more specifically that part of humanity that included Jaskier. 

“I thought humans couldn’t eat those?” Geralt couldn’t, he’d eaten one during training on a dare and spent the next day with his head in the privy.

Jaskier looked down at the mushroom in his hand. It was a beautiful, bright red, with little white spots. He’d been snacking on similar ones for the last mile or so. 

“Of course we can,” he said. “Humans eat these all the time.” There was a rising tone in his voice that indicated something, but as Geralt had mentioned before, witchers couldn’t actually smell the more complicated emotions. 

“They, um,” Jaskier said. “They just can’t be eaten by humans during-er- during summer. It’s fall now, so it’s okay.”

Geralt shrugged. What did he know of human biology? He wouldn’t be eating another of them ever, at any time. His stomach lurched a little just at the thought.

---

“You didn’t buy the ring.”

Jaskier looked up at Geralt, eyes bright in the sunshine. The bustle of the market around them pushed against him like a tide, but a little patch of space was left around Geralt. Jaskier stepped into the space. “The ring?”

“You liked it,” Geralt grunted. “I could tell.” It had been a little thing, cheaply made of poor materials, but the bard’s eyes had lit up upon seeing the little buttercup detailing, and he’d admired for several minutes, although without touching. 

Jaskier shrugged. “It was made of iron.”

“And?”

“Human’s can’t wear iron, Geralt.”

“Then why did the man sell it?” 

“Well some humans can wear it of course, those with very tough skin, but I’m delicate.” Jaskier sniffed. 

“Humans...can’t wear iron?” It didn’t sound right.

“Not right up close to their skin,” Jaskier said. “It turns us, um, purple.”

Geralt shrugged it off. He’d once been called to a castle where a baron had believed himself cursed because his finger was turning green, but he’d simply been wearing a cheap brass ring.

---

After the first winter they met again in the spring something was definitely different.

“Your freckles,” Geralt said.

“What about them?” Jaskier said, looking away.

What about them indeed. They glimmered like chips of mica. At first Geralt had thought it a trick of the light, but no, there was a definite glitter to Jaskier’s skin.

“They’re...shining?”

Jaskier cocked his head at Geralt, cheeks shimmering. “Geralt,” he said slowly. “You know humans shimmer in the spring...right?” 

Shimmer?

“I’d never noticed,” Geralt said. Admittedly he paid a little more attention to Jaskier than perhaps he ought, but still, one would think he’d have seen this before.

“It’s part of the growing process,” Jaskier said. 

---

“Jaskier, your cheeks are red,” Geralt said, stepping out of the small bathtub the inkeeper had brought up. He stepped closer to the bard, still naked and dripping water, and pressed the back of his hand to Jaskier’s forehead.

“Nnhgh,” Jaskier said.

“Are you well?” Geralt asked, cupping Jaskier’s flushed face with his other hand. It didn’t feel like he had a fever.

Jaskier pushed his hands away, face even redder than before.

“I’m perfectly fine, Geralt,” he said, higher pitched than usual. “Human faces get red for no reason now...put on some pants.”

---

“Jaskier you’re drunk,” Geralt said. It was a pretty obvious statement, considering he had his bard draped over him like a shawl.

“Hehe, yep,” Jaskier said, reaching up with one, long finger and tracing Geralt’s jawline with it. 

“You didn’t have any alcohol, I’m sure of it.” Jaskier normally had an extremely high alcohol tolerance in any case.

“‘O course not,” Jaskier said, leaning even more fully into Geralt’s hold. “Had milk.”

“Milk can’t get people drunk.”

“Milk can’t get witchers drunk,” Jaskier slurred. “Get’s humans drunk though, dunnit?”

“Can it?”

“Yeah, definitely, not the kids, but like, how often do you see, like adult humans drinkin’ milk?”

Not often, Geralt thought. He put Jaskier to bed in the inn and it was like pouring an octopus into a bucket. One loose yet gripping arm pulled Geralt closer to Jaskier, the bard leaned in and brushed soft lips to Geralt’s cheekbone.

Geralt wondered if it was another mystery of humans that the spot seemed to tingle all night and he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.

---

Geralt clutched Jaskier as the bard fell to his knees, groaning. His face was sickly in it’s palor and he was trembling. He’d just lurched up from the table at the inn and stumbled to the door. Geralt had followed him and the young bard had just collapsed like this.

“Jaskier,” he said, clutching a chilled cheek, his other hand seeking one of Jaskier’s. “Jaskier what’s wrong.”

“Lemon,” Jaskier whispered, lacing shaking finger’s with Geralt’s. “In the fish, there was lemon.”

“Lemon’s fine, isn’t it?” Geralt asked, slow heart racing as he looked into eyes that were becoming glassy and clouded.

Jaskier shook his head and it seemed to exhaust him.

“’S fine for humans.” He said. “Not fae.”

“Fae,” Geralt said, cradling his friend. “Jaskier you’re not making sense.” 

“Mmh,” Jaskier said, smiling sadly. His face changed, his eyes going glow bright and his ears lengthening a little. His skin took on a slightly green tint. 

Geralt looked into the face of his fae bard, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone and the shimmering freckles there. “How do I heal you, you have to tell me.”

Jaskier blinked slowly, eyes dimming further.

Geralt shook him, desperation taking over.

“Jaskier what heals a fairy?”

What heals a fairy? He’d learned that at some point hadn’t he? Long ago. They were rare, and most witchers never saw one in their whole lives but if you could help one they’d grant you one wish, not tricks. 

Poetry. 

Fuck.

“Jaskier,” Geralt rasped, throat feeling dry. Those beautiful eyes blinked at him, slowly. 

“I...I think you have pretty eyes,” Geralt said. “And I like when they, um, match the skies.”

Jaskier blinked at him in confusion, brow wrinkling slightly.

“You look pretty in blue,” Geralt managed, inventing wildly. “And look pretty in green. You look lovely in about every shade in between.”

Some of the deathly palor was fading from Jaskier’s face now and Geralt sought more words. “I thought you were pretty that day you wore purple,” he said. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, idiot he was an idiot, nothing rhymes with purple. 

“I like your spirit, your moxy, your...your yurple.”

Jaskier was indeed looking better now, and he was smiling.

“I like the way you talk to me, and how you’re always there,” Geralt whispered. “I like the way you hum to me when you help me brush my hair.”

Jaskier sat up slowly, blinking in the dim light.

“I like the way you give treats to Roach, um, and I like the way you smile,” Geralt gulped at the look on Jaskier’s face. “But most of all I like how much I love you, so I want you to promise to, uh, stay? For a while?”

“Oh Geralt,” Jaskier said, cupping his cheek. “That was bad.” Then he kissed him and Geralt’s brain went very very fuzzy.

A little later, in their room in the inn, where Geralt was finishing the fish and Jaskier was having stew avec no-lemon-at-all, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jaskier tilted his head thoughtfully as he chewed a piece of potato. “Well, at first I wasn’t sure how you’d take it,” he said. 

Geralt nodded. Fae were a feared and reverred group amongst humans, so caution was reasonable.

“Then it became a sort of game,” Jaskier said shrugging. “I couldn’t resist. So I left you little hints. I thought you’d figure it out for sure with the freckles or the milk.”

Geralt huffed a little sheepishly.

“I don’t care that you’re fae,” he said after a moment.

“I know,” Jaskier said. “And I don’t care that you’re an awful poet.”

“It worked, didn’t it.”

“It did, and now you get a wish, no tricks,” Jaskier held up his hand as if taking an oath. “I promise.”

Geralt thought for a moment. A wish from a fae was no small thing. It should be something powerful, something earth shattering and precious and rare.

“I wish you would kiss me again.”

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

Oop, here it is (after quite the wait, sorry about that) I’m actually so proud of this and it’s super sweet and fluffy.

[darling-i-read-it]

Hug

Pelle x reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Danis grief and the things that come with that (crying, heaviness) 

Author’s Note: this was not on my list of things I wanted to write and yet 

I feel held by him okay 

Summary: You and Pelle meet through Dani and Christian (man I suck at summaries) 

Song: Run by Hozier

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Dani liked you. She liked you a lot. You made her feel sane and that helped her in more ways than one. She liked the fact that you would always listen to her and tell her that she was right, even when she was wrong. She liked that your eyes never once flitted away from her when she spoke. She liked that you understood her grief in a way that most people would never try to. 

She almost had no desire to introduce you to Christian. She loved Christian, she really did, but you didn’t need to meet her boyfriend. 

Dani thought, even though you did appreciate her that you would never understand the way that he loved Christian. Maybe she didn’t even understand it. 

In any event, she wouldn’t be able to explain in an adequate way. 

But still, you pushed.

You were hanging out with her, in her room. She was walking around the room numbly, trying to understand why her head never seemed to be wrapped around the room when people were speaking. A sorrow was still hanging over her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. You were sitting on her desk, watching her anxiously pace back and forth. 

“No.” She stopped walking. “I’m sorry, that was blunt.” You shook your head. 

“Don’t worry about it. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want,” you told her evenly. Dani walked up to you and sat down at the chair in front of you. She felt a little more clear headed with you. It helped to be around people sometimes. Tears started to well up in her eyes but she quickly shook them away.

“Christian has been distant lately. I don’t know how to tell him I still need him without being...needy,” she said, avoiding your eyes.

“He should understand.” You gave her a narrow look and she sighed. 

“Yeah yeah. I know you wanna meet him.” 

“I just wanna learn about this guy who supposedly has absolute zero ability to read his girlfriends moods.” She sighed.

“You wanna meet him? Alright. You can meet him. But his friends will probably be there and if you don’t wanna-”

“I’d love to meet his friends as well. You can tell a lot about a person based on the company that they keep.” 

====

“This is Y/N. Y/N this is Christian, Mark, Josh and Pelle.” You shook their hands, a kind smile on your face. Mark eyed you for a second longer than he should have and you weren’t sure how to feel about them as a whole. A very basic group of boys that may not be all that they seemed. You were all at Christians place which was dirty. Clothes were on the floor and most of his books were strewn around. There was food on the kitchen counters. 

You ignored your initial thoughts and waved slyly.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you all.” Truth be told, you didn’t know much about any of them but Christian. You barely knew their names to faces. 

“You’re the only friend of Dani’s we hear about. You go to school here too right?” Josh asked. You nodded.

“Yes. It’s how Dani and I met.” Your eyes looked around the four of them and surveyed their expression. The man at the end, Pelle, had a very neutral and soft looking expression on his face. You admired him immediately. 

But you ignored that so that you were able to assess Christian better. 

“Now Christian, I think it’s about time I teach you how to treat your girlfriend,” you teased gently and the guys raised their eyebrows. Mark patted Christians back.

“She’s got her guns out. How are you going to respond?!” Mark asked loudly. Christian was laughing and so were you but you had been serious. He was a terrible boyfriend. If they had classes on how to be a decent boyfriend, you would force him to take them, for Dani’s sake. 

“You’re Dani’s friend which means you are my friend,” he said finally. Your lips twitched and you nodded slowly. “Can I offer you anything to drink?” 

“No, thank you though.” Dani sat down at the living room area and the boys quickly followed. Her and Christian were on the love seat, Mark in one of the chairs and you, Pelle and Josh on the couch. You were sitting beside Pelle on the left. 

He smelled good. 

“How is school treating you?” he asked. You turned to him, pleased to hear that his voice was as soothing as he looked. He had an accent you couldn’t place - you were hopeless with accents. 

“Well! At this rate, I should get through finals with only a few scratches here and there,” you told him. 

You could hear that Mark had asked Christian a question and they were having a conversation off to the side. 

“How about you?” you asked.

“Good, just about as good as you. I wonder, maybe if we have any teachers in common,” he suggested. You nodded. 

“It’s entirely possible. What are you studying?” 

“I’m in the Anthropology department.” 

“We may overlap. I’ll have to check your schedule.” 

Dani gave you a look but your eyes were not on her. She couldn’t distinguish what you and Pelle were saying because your voices were so calm while the other boys were booming. She was only a few feet away and still...whatever you were laughing about was lost on her.

====

You didn’t stay long. Dani and you had to get back so that you were able to study for finals. And by that, it was usually you studying with her in the room so she had someone to keep her in check. You didn’t mind. 

“You and Pelle seemed to get along well,” she noted. 

“I was there to make sure Christian seemed like a decent human,” you told her. 

“And?” You thought about it for a moment and she was right. You had talked to Pelle almost exclusively. 

“Pelle was really nice,” you conceded. She laughed gently. At least you were able to be honest with her. 

“I think he likes you. He’s a Swedish exchange student, if he didn’t tell you.” 

“That’s where the accent is from! It was bugging me. I was about to start speaking to Google,” you said laughing. She rolled her eyes playfully.

“You could have just asked him.”

“I didn’t know if it was inappropriate!” 

======

You ran your hand through your hair as you walked around your little apartment. It had about everything you could ever need and you loved it. Dani was sleeping on the couch you had managed to squeeze in. 

There was a knock at your door. 

You checked the clock on the wall and furrowed your brows in confusion. It was still pretty early in the day. You had to go to class soon.

You opened the door and Pelle stood in front of you, a kind smile on his face. 

“Pelle! What a nice surprise,” you whispered. He looked confused as to your whisper and you opened the door enough to show Dani sound asleep. He nodded understandingly. 

“I hope this isn’t inappropriate,” he said, in the same hushed tone.

“No, no. Although I do have to go to class soon. What is it?” You leaned against the doorframe.

“I thought our conversation the other day was really nice.” He paused for a minute, thinking over his words. You waited patiently. “I would like to take you out for coffee.” 

You were a bit surprised that he had come all the way to your apartment to tell you that. You assumed that Christian had given him the address. He had it so he knew where Dani was, she had given it to him. 

“I would like that very much. Although, you could have just called,” you said smiling.

“I prefer in person. I think it’s more personal.” You nodded but turned around, grabbing a pen off of your desk. You grabbed his hand and scribbled your number onto his palm.

“For when you want to tell me where to meet you.” He smiled and nodded once, pleasantly. 

“Until then.” 

“Until then.” 

====

Pelle called you that night to tell you where to meet him for coffee. You were pleased and excited. Dani woke up the next morning when you were getting ready to leave. It was Saturday so you didn’t have any classes to attend and you figured you were due a break from studying. 

“Where are you going?” she asked groggily. You cleaned up your bed and turned to her on the couch.

“I have a coffee date,” you said honestly. 

She raised her head up off the pillow and rubbed her eyes.

“Oh?” You nodded, fixing your hair in the mirror. You looked yourself over and nodded nervously at yourself. You looked good. You hoped it wasn’t too much for just a coffee date. “Care to share who it’s with?” 

You sheepishly looked at her through the mirror. 

“Pelle,” you said quietly. She laughed heartily. It was the first time you had heard her actually laugh in weeks. 

“Pelle?” 

“Yes. Go back to bed. I’ll probably be back before you get up.” She laid her head back down. 

“Have fun at your coffee date!” she called but her voice was muffled by the pillow. 

====

“Yes! I told Dani that but she doesn’t believe me. I don’t know, I think maybe we’re all a little too hard on her.”

The coffee date was going swimmingly. Pelle was funny and he was also able to give you good advice. You were amazed at his kind heart.

As for his feelings for you, he loved you. Dani had spoken about you and your kind heart before but he never thought you would be like this. He never thought he would love you this much so instantly. You were charming and honest and there was some quip left in you. He admired your qualities and was pleased to find that you liked him as well. 

He could never be sure but he thought you may like it back at his home. 

“You’re being a very good friend. Better than most,” he said honestly. He reached a hand forward and laid it on your hands which were sitting on the table. Both of your cups were empty. You looked down at his hand on yours and attempted to suppress your emotions. 

“Thank you Pelle.” 

You moved your hands apart so they were holding his hand between them. He smiled a bit, sheepishly. 

“I really enjoyed this.”

“I did as well.” 

You were very pleased to hear it wasn’t one sided. 

You both stood up and started for the door. His hand still held yours. It was within walking distance of both of your homes but in opposite directions. Before parting he turned to face you. You smiled up at him, trying your very hardest to not let him know how much you had enjoyed the date. 

That was when your phone rang. Your smile fell and you had to know who it was calling. 

Dani. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t worry. I will wait.” 

You picked up the phone and put it to your ear.

“Yes?”

“I-I need you.” She was crying. She didn’t like to ask for help so this must have been serious. You nodded stiffly.

“I will be there in a couple minutes. Hold on,” you said kindly. You hung up the phone and turned to him. “Dani needs me, I’m sorry.” He shook his head and before you could say another word, he was hugging you. 

You had thought he might kiss you but this was almost better. It was almost for sure better than a kiss. His arms engulfed your body and held you tightly. He was wearing a soft sweater and it felt so nice against your face. He smelled like herbs and trees. You hugged him back, tightly. He had his hand on the back of your head and he gently kissed your shoulder. 

He pulled away ever so slightly and kissed you softly. You had to pull away to smile. 

“I’ll see you soon Pelle.” He nodded and you were about to walk away when he strengthened his hold on you. 

“Mark, Josh, Christian and I are going to take a trip back to my home in Sweden for the summer. Dani will likely be invited too. Would you like to come?”

[luvyanfei]

with a short & insecure s/o (hcs)

ft. xiao, kaeya, zhongli, & xingqiu requested by anon

this,,, this is me

xiao. 

he’s appalled when he finds out people actually tease you for your height. xiao has always known how terrible humans can be, but to think they would attempt to tear someone down, specifically his lover, just because they’re considered small irate him to no end. you might want to hold on to him tightly before he can storm off and declare war on the bullies who dared to torment you in any way. 

he honestly doesn’t care if you’re short or tall, ugly or pretty - your appearance isn’t what’s important here. he fell in love with you for what’s inside of you, don’t forget that, okay? xiao may not outright say all that because he’s embarrassed of showing his soft side to you, but if your insecurity gets the better of you, he’ll at least lend an ear to you as you rant to him while stargazing together. 

however, what xiao despises more than others treating you poorly is you belittling yourself. he has zero tolerance for that kind of attitude and will react quite aggressively, gripping you by the shoulders and shaking you. he can’t help himself. it hurts him deeply, dare he say more than a stab to his heart, seeing you wallowing in self-hatred. he’s harsh, but he means well. xiao would much rather see a content smile on your face than having you look disconsolate. 

“have you finally stopped your wailing yet?” xiao peers at your face drenched in tears in disinterest, but really, he’s pretty concerned on the inside. your sobs have been reduced to quiet sniffles, but your body won’t stop trembling. he looks away for a minute, sighs heavily, and pulls you into his arms, a blush coating his cheeks. 

he stays silent the whole time, too nervous to do anything really, as your palms press against his chest lightly and will yourself to calm down. xiao clears his throat and brings a finger down to brush away the glistening tears from your eyes. 

“look, just because you’re short, it doesn’t mean i don’t like you any less,” he whispers only for you to hear, and presses his lips to your forehead, letting it linger there for a few seconds. “even if you, or anybody else, don’t think you’re worthy enough, i at lease still care about you, so don’t let others’ opinions get to you.”

kaeya.

not to be blunt or anything, but kaeya being, well kaeya, he’s probably going to relentlessly tease you. he doesn’t do it because he harbors any ill-intent towards you. it’s just, kaeya is very fond of your flustered expression. if you happen to end up crying from his words, he’ll immediately stop and apologize guiltily. the last thing he needs is for you to abandon him too because of a fault on his end. 

kaeya really does love you a lot, despite your flaws and silently admires you for your empathy and altruism. one good thing about being shorter than your boyfriend is that you can wear his clothing on and he’ll be a gushing mess in no time. he’ll purposefully place his jacket somewhere for you to find in hopes you’ll put it on. he may be doing this just for the purpose of having fun, but he likes knowing that it means you're comfortable and accepting in your relationship with him. 

he likes patting you on the head when you pass by each other at random times, his lips curling in a knowing smirk. if you ever need help obtaining items that are out of your reach, kaeya will conveniently be there to lend a hand. it fuels his confidence how you always go to him for help instead of seeking support from someone who might be more reliable. it goes to show that your trust in him is deep. 

“having difficulties, [name]?” kaeya hollers to gain your attention as you look down from the ladder to glance at the knight, your hand outreached to grab at the material you need with failed attempts. “allow me to be of service~” 

he gestures for you to climb down and gets up the ladder himself, easily grasping the object in his fingers. once his feet has touched the ground, he lowers his hand to give it to you, but before your fingertips can make contact with it, he pulls it away from you. "ah ah ah~ shouldn’t i get some kind of a compensation for helping my dearest?” you stare at him in confusion before an idea plants itself in your head. ah. so that’s what he wants. with a roll of your eyes, you stride up the ladder till your eyes meet and kisses him on the lips. 

as you push your body away from him, he gives a closed-eye grin and nods in satisfaction. “that wasn’t too bad, now was it?” kaeya finally hands you the item, but he grips your free hand in his and guides it to press against his warm cheek. “you should realize by now what you’re capable of doing, stealing my heart like this. you’re so cruel [name], but perhaps that’s why i’ve grown to love you.” 

zhongli.

zhongli is an honest and good-natured man. he’ll immediately tell you that he doesn’t think to care about your height, so there’s no reason for you to worry about it either. he’s not an idiot though. he’s aware that your self-deprecating thoughts won’t disappear so easily with his consoling words alone. actions speak louder than words, after all. 

if anyone ends up insulting you for your size, zhongli won’t hesitate to politely stand up for you. although, if they stubbornly persist in demeaning you, it’ll push him to the brink of indignation, but he’ll still attempt to keep up a courteous manner for your sake as he calmly tells them to back off. like kaeya, he loves it when you wear his clothing! he’s lived for a long time to see many things, but witnessing you cuddling him while his jacket is draped snugly over your body has got to be the cutest thing he’s seen yet. 

ever the supportive individual, zhongli will help you come out of your shell and build up on your self-esteem. he’s there with you every step of the day, so if you ever slip and feel like you’re about to fall into an abyss of despair, he’ll take your out-stretched hands in his and guide you back into the light. 

“[name], is something the matter? you look as if you’re bothered by something.” zhongli questions innocently, studying your face carefully. your eyes droop slightly, but you reassure him that you were pondering how it would feel like if you were as tall as him. he nods in understanding and brings a hand up to his chin in thought. 

before you know it, he’s turned his back towards you and kneeled down. perplexed, you stare at him, unsure of what he’s doing. “you said you desired to know what it’s like to be around my height, so this is the only thing i can think of.” hesitantly, you place your hands on his shoulder blades to balance yourself and he makes sure to hold onto you tightly as he stands up slowly. you smile in appreciation at zhongli’s consideration over your feelings and presses your body closer to his. 

he beams back at you, sealing a kiss to your lips. “if you ever feel down, remember that there’s at least one person in the world that loves you - one of them being me, of course.” 

xingqiu.

he also reacts similar to kaeya, although his teasing is slightly toned down and less vocal. like, if you wanted to give him a kiss on the cheek, he might lean away from you and probably use a stool to make himself taller, but he’ll stop after a bit of fun and laughter. it’s not funny unless both of you are smiling, right?

he finds your short stature to be one of your charm points and will compliment you for that, calling you adorable and such. it’s kind of perfect for him because he likes being the big spoon, embracing you from behind and nuzzling his face against the back of your neck. if you’re around the same age as him, it’s alright! there’s still time for you to grow. he’s sure the both of you will be tall soon. there’s no judgement when you’re with him, so don’t be afraid of being yourself around xingqiu, alright? 

if he finds out your confidence is still lacking, he’ll scribble down a list of all the things he loves about you for you to read to lift your spirits up! although, that might prove to be a challenge considering his handwriting is infamously known for being illegible. 

“hmm... isn’t that the picture we took at liyue harbor together?” xingqiu observes the photo in your hand, reminiscing the fond memories. his honey irises flicker to you. “hey, what’s with the frown?” 

you shake your head and tries to change the subject, but he presses on to persuade you into explaining. when you finally do, he bursts into a fit of laughter, wiping away the tears pricking the edge of his eyes. “i apologize for my behavior, but [name], you shouldn’t have to concern yourself with such a trivial matter.” he tucks away a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his index finger ghosting over your lips. 

“have i ever told you that you’re cute?” xingqiu murmurs, a sense of genuine compassion laced in his tone. “don’t stare at me like that, please. i’m quite serious, so there’s no need to compare yourself with me. no matter the height difference, i’ll always love you - if you’ll allow me too. 

tagging. @liliisacutieowo, @scarymoosh

[neutinya]

Some relationships are you, a human, with a human partner, and other are you, a human, and your 240cm tall monster bf, but that's okay - !! I included their backstory as well as the setting up of the general context for this AU below the cut so if you’re interested,,, do consider reading it fhdjdj;;; I'm really happy with how this turned out and it's super fun to draw monster tooru and his 4 arms lmao I'm super excited for this AU;;; I really wanna draw more of it dndjjxjd

Iwa is monster-hunter royal blood. However he doesn't want to be heir to the monster hunter shit so he decided to run away the day before his coronation??

As a kid he would play with all the monster animals near the forest which is where he met his lizard familiar and llama ceb. The day he runs away he brings them with him??

The moment he ran away from his kingdom and title as prince he was immediately hunted down by hunters sent by his own family for dishonouring them the Iwaizumi name. Like he's straight up wanted??? ahhh

Somewhere along the way he meets Tooru and they probably wouldn't get along at the start

?? Like they meet at some weird beer house?? And Iwa obviously sticks out because he's human and humans aren't exactly super welcomed because of the history between monsters and humans. Iwa being oblivious to the monster world obviously doesn't realise why this four armed dude won't stop pestering him in spite of his attempts to keep a low profile.

Tooru had approached him because he was sure if he didn't step in, Iwa would have been killed

Iwa was initially extremely resistant to Tooru's "advances" until Tooru whispers into Iwa's ear that "I don't know if you realised but almost every monster in this beer house is staring at you with the intent to kill, so unless you want to leave this place alive, play along and let me get you out of here"

And Iwa just looks around the room and he realises that Tooru was right so he plays along and they try to leave but one of the monsters in the beer house walks up to them and asks Tooru to back off so they could kill Iwa, and Tooru is just like "no can do, he's a friend of mine" and the dude is just like "move." But Tooru is adamant much to the annoyance of the other. A fight kinda breaks out, but much to Iwa's surprise, Tooru managed to take all of them down with ease

As they go aside, Iwa just asks Tooru why doesn't he want to kill him like the rest of the monsters and Tooru is just 🤷🤷🤷🤷🤷 Iwa apologises for causing such a big commotion and getting Tooru involved unnecessarily. Tooru says it's not a problem and Iwa not really having that much money on him, asks if he could return him in some other way? He offers a family heirloom at first but Tooru is just like "Not interested, although how about you let me tag along wherever you're headed?"

Iwa’s response is just "???" Tooru says "look, you aren't getting anywhere in these parts as a human, if I tag along, you won't have to worry too much about being killed and you returned the favour, it's a win win."

So that's how they kinda go off on their journey!!! Iwa actually learns a lot about monsters from Tooru who seemed much more knowledgeable than he looked (no offense to Tooru but that was Hajime’s genuine first impression) There were so many different types of monsters and Iwa was just?? So amazed and almost excited that there were so many things for him to learn and explore??

Like okay they had a bad first impression but he was kinda starting to like Tooru as a companion, listening to way Tooru told all those stories offered him a comfort that he never had back at home

Tooru did most of the talking honestly but Iwa was always intently listening and Tooru could tell he was intrigued and super attentive so he didn’t mind

He did ask Iwa about why he was wandering around in the first place and why the hell was he just traversing across the land with no plan or knowledge of the terrain. Iwa tells Tooru he ran away from his family but neglected to tell Tooru he was of royal monsterhunter blood. Iwa fires back the same question and Tooru responds saying “I get bored of spending all my time in the same old place every day.” neglecting to tell Iwa the fact that he too was of royal blood, the king to one of the many monster kingdoms. (Actually one of the most feared in fact??)

I was thinking the four armed form isn't his real monster form but a less scary version, he's actually a huge fearsome beast but he would walk around in this form to blend with the common folk. This also explains why people don’t recognize him, because if they really knew who he was, they’d be terrified of him.

Tooru is extremely flirty and generally enjoys teasing Hajime. Iwa's lizard does not like Tooru at all. It would be sitting on Iwa's shoulder, breathing small fireballs at Tooru whenever the brunette got too close- For example, when Tooru tries to wrap an arm around Iwa's shoulder or waist, Haji’s lizard would get extremely angry and began attacking him. Tooru is super upset about this tiny little creature preventing him from getting close to his new human companion, but nevertheless, he learns to pick moments where the lizard is asleep to try and engage with Haji

Sidenote, Iwa is a really fucking good archer and good at knives. He may not have had the heart to be a monster hunter, but he definitely had the physical skills to be one if he desired.

Of course there’s a bunch of shenanigans, but honestly speaking there’s also a good amount of sexual tension?? They have a lot of moments where they kinda save each other, whether it be having run ins with unfriendly monsters or humans, to navigating dangerous terrain and making hard decisions;;

They grow to be rather close friends I would dare say;; In fact, for the most part, Tooru would be Iwa's first genuine friend :(( Iwa was never given the luxury of having friends growing up. He spent most of his time training to be a monster hunter or learning about them, which is why he grew super attached to Tooru platonically at first

Once they have a pretty mean run in where Tooru ends up seriously hurt;; Iwa was so scared that he would lose Tooru at that moment;; Tooru fake dies to kinda tease Iwa but he didn't expect Iwa to cry, so as Iwa is there like "don't die on me you idiot-" Tooru "comes back to life" and is all like "awww is Iwa-chan crying because of me?" And Iwa, embarrassed, just punches him in the chest and wipes away his tears like "shut the fuck up asshole"

Tooru is just like "ow- I may not be dead but I'm still kinda hurt you know?" And Iwa feels bad so he just tries to play it off like "that's what you deserve dumbass" before treating Tooru's wounds. They end up spending the night at this cave near a lake where they decided to stay for a few days since Tooru was pretty beat up and the weather was pretty bad

Haji pretty much nursed Tooru back to health, finding berries, herbs and all that during the day in order to make medicine and food

I think at one point Tooru comments "You're really good at this kinda thing huh?" And Iwa is just confused like "good at what?" And Tooru elaborates "taking care of people. Not everyone can make medicine like you do you know?" And Iwa just says it was nothing and he learned most of it from reading when he was a kid

Also like I said the weather was pretty bad so imagine Iwa curling up next to his llama and lizard for warmth. Tooru finds it so fucking adorable??? Clearly the two of them loved Iwa and vice versa, but he couldn't help but feel a little jealous at the sight uxjxhdh

So like one night he just casually says "you guys sure look warm over there" and Iwa just looks at him like 😐

"I gave you my cape you know" and Tooru just "Monsters can't regulate heat like humans do, at least not my species" That was a lie but Iwa didn't know that, so he kinda just looks at Tooru funny before scooting over to Tooru and lying down next to him. His llama and lizard follow, and scoot on Tooru's other side so Tooru is kinda sandwiched in between Haji and the pets. Iwa just mumbles a quiet "now go to sleep dumbass" and Tooru just smiles like a fucking idiot

Iwa quickly dozes off but Tooru not so much, when he was sure Iwa was asleep he gently drapes the cape over Iwa instead before going to bed himself

The next day Iwa is the first to wake up and much to his fucking surprise, he was pretty much incapable of moving because Tooru had somehow wound up hugging him with two of his arms. He was so embarrassed he thought he could die so he could only stay there and not do anything. After while he realises that staying like that could only mean more mental suffering so he slowly tries inching away from Tooru to which he eventually succeeds

He does his morning routine which was to look for berries and herbs because Tooru needed quite a bit of medicine. Tooru was definitely close to being back to his healthy normal self but he still needed to make sure that everything was in check

[serendipityjxmn]

Mr. President

Chapter 20

TW: Explicit violence, mentions of guns, drugs trafficking, gory killing scene

Words Count: 3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 21

At first, you’re more like a property to him. He learned that the only way he can keep something or someone around for a long time, is if he treats them like a property. Because human’s feelings change, and he needs to protect himself from hurting.

Everything that he’s told you, the reason behind the marriage, the purpose of you are all true.

He needs to marry anyway, as one of the stupid ancient condition his old father has set and he knows his father had set it to make him stay grounded.

He scoffs, wondering why his father doesn’t learn from his past mistakes. And that’s why he’s made a plan on his own, to marry someone without a powerful background, one he can easily dispose when it’s time, one who won’t be a liability to him. A tool.

And now that tool is missing. He pinches his temple, eyes shut close. He’s alone in his office, late at night because he doesn’t sleep well these days.

Since his wife had packed her bags, left him and gone missing.

He sighs thinking about the last argument he had with you. It’s your own fault for building castles in the air and mistaking those as his genuine gesture and fall in love with him. And he realises that because he is not stupid. And during that one night, he sees you, fully sees you and he can’t deny the desire it stirred in his mind. This may be a temporary marriage but it doesn’t mean that he can’t touch you. After all, you are his wife. He knows you are beautiful, he’d known it since the first day because he isn’t blind. Yet he knows he can’t touch you without your consent. Although he did slip up because he tends to lose his vigilance around you. And that’s how he came up with another proposal.

Yet the proposal took a very different turn and became your last straw to leave him.

He couldn’t believe that you’re stupid enough to fall in love with him. Don’t you fear him? You know he’s dangerous yet you still confess your love to him and he doesn’t know whether to worship you at your feet or spanks you for it.

He’s never led you on and has never failed to remind what you are to him, simply an object yet you still fall for him.

He lets out another heavy sigh. Because frankly, he doesn’t know what to do. All of these aren’t supposed to happen and you’re not supposed to love him.

He had put up barriers and boundaries around himself and that’d made it very hard for anyone to simply approach him. People don’t approach him unless they want something from him and he’s well aware of it because he knows how the world works. Not to mention the fact that he’s the leader of the biggest mafia gang, notorious for all sorts of services they offer; machinery, assassinations, bribery, illegal weaponry, drugs trafficking and namely everything else. That had made it a billion times more difficult for anyone to approach or him to let anyone in.

And you’re well aware of it.

But you still fall for him.

He just doesn’t get it; how you’re able to fall for him despite knowing who he is and what he’s capable of.

He scoffs thinking how he could easily kill you. You’re too soft, weak and fragile.

Yet you still fall for him.

Despite knowing how easily he could kill you.

And without asking for anything in return.

And Jimin doesn’t find that believable at all. And at the face of such genuine adoration, he doesn’t know what to do. Because who on earth would be stupid enough to do that?

But you did. You are his stupid wife.

And that makes it even easier to kill you, not just by him. And the thought of anyone laying a finger on you angers him. It makes him want to kill someone. Tear their limbs one by one. Burn them alive. There’s just too many options.

But first he has to find you.

He sighs, for the hundredth time. You’re such a headache.

And that’s when his phone rings. A call from a private number.

“If it isn’t Y/N’s beloved husband..”

Jimin could feel his whole body tensing. “Who are you?”

The person from the other end laughs. “Damn, I need to come find you more often so you’d remember. You beat me into a pulp before.. and now I want leverage. You think you can just take my sister for free?“

Jimin’s hand clamp in a tight fist. “Jay.”

“You remember.. not bad. You see, when you take my little sister, you’ve caused me some complications. You can say she’s my source of income. She’s a pretty slut, no denying that. And I could’ve earned fortunes from selling her off. And you-“

“How much do you want?” Jimin cuts him off.

“Ah.. you’re a smart man.” He laughs before his tone turns serious again. “100 million won would do. For now. And don’t bullshit me saying you don’t have money or whatever. I know you have that much.”

“Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll text you the time and place. And don’t think of calling the police or bring your little friends. I have someone powerful backing me. She’s my little sister, but I’m not gonna hesitate to do anything if you don’t listen to my words. Right, little sister?”

A shrieking scream piercing through the phone is the last thing Jimin hears before Jay hangs up. Jimin’s whole body filled with rage and he grips his phone so tight it almost breaks into two.

“He’s not gonna come...” you slur, your vision not entirely clear and your swollen lips making it hard to enunciate words once Jay finishes his phone call to your husband.

“We’ll see about that bitch. And if he doesn’t.. count your time now..” he says in full malicious tone.

You don’t know how long you’ve been knocked out again but you wake up when you hear commotions.

“And the knight is finally here.” You hear your brother’s voice.

You struggle to focus on your vision. Your whole body freezes when your husband comes into view.

There’s no way Jimin’s here.

Perhaps it’s just a hallucination.

It’s a whole level of pathetic, you think. Because even when you’re in this state, he’s all you could see.

Perhaps you’re really nearing the end of your life, and your mind conjures whatever it desperately wants the most.

“Clara, what the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” The person hisses.

And it’s weird because it’s your husband’s voice.

You blink several times.

And there really is your husband, walking into the warehouse alone. He can’t had possibly willingly walks into a lion’s den alone like that? It’s like a death wish.

Clara turns immediately as soon as she sees Jimin. “Ah.. Jimin.. my Jimin..”

Someone comes and pushes Jimin forward and makes him sit on a chair and tie his hands on his back.

You swallow thickly. You still can’t process the fact that your husband is here.

He finally turns to look at you and he stares at you for several moments, just taking in the sight of battered you covered in bruises and blood and you see the clench in his jaw.

You let out a gasp when the guy standing beside him takes out his gun and points the muzzle on the back of his head. You feel anger bubbling inside you at the sight of it.

Gathering all source of strength, you yell, “Leave my husband out of this Jay!”

Jay quickly steps forward and leaves a stinging slap on your cheek. “If you dare hurt him..” you start and earns another slap from him, making you whimper in pain. You cough several times, your throat feels like burning.

Jimin eyes you furiously. “Keep quiet. Don’t make any sound.” He says, jaw still clenched very tightly. “Clara, what the fuck is this? Why are you here?”

She comes and slowly sits on Jimin’s lap. You notice how he doesn’t flinch away or jerk from her touch. “Baby.. we’ve dealt for years.. good business, good sex. And then you’re suddenly married and you just.. I don’t know, changed?” She says as she runs her fingers across your husband’s cheek.

Jimin just glares at her. “Why did you help him?”

She runs her hand down from his cheeks to his jaw and then settles on his chest, palms flat against them. She shrugs then. “I don’t know.. you know I’m a little crazy. I like having fun. And things.. had been boring. Business is boring, you are boring.. and perhaps I’m trying to put you in place a little, you asshole.” She glares at him.

He gives a very murderous look. “I’m gonna make sure you regret this.”

She leans closer. “Awww shh baby.. I’m not gonna hurt your precious little wife..” and closer. You realize she’s about to kiss him and you hastily look away. You don’t want the last memory you have of your husband before you die is being kissed by another woman. She gets up from his lap, fingers still faintly brushing him everywhere. Then she smirks. “But maybe he will.” She laughs and then exits through the door.

“Did you come with what I ask for?” Jay asks and Jimin juts his chin towards a large black duffel bag on the floor beside him that you hadn’t realized. Jay grins. “Nice doing business with you.. brother in law.”

“Now let us go.” Jimin says.

Jay stops inspecting the money inside the bag and turns to look at him. “No, don’t think it’s that easy..” He signals something and one of his men comes forward. “See, perhaps you don’t really know my sister.. but let me tell you this. She is a fucking whore. And I’m gonna let her be a whore. And you.. you’re going to watch every single men here stick their dick into her pussy.”

Your whole body goes numb as soon as you hear that. Desperately, you glance at your husband. He doesn’t look at you but instead just stares at your brother. You’ve never seen him look so murderous before. Your eyes widen in panic when they pull you from the chair and then roughly push you till you’re kneeling on the floor on all four.

“J-Jimin-” you say, voice thick with desperation.

“Sshh.. shh little sister.. don’t worry.. perhaps your husband might even get hard from this. Don’t you want to please your husband?” Jay smirks.

You feel you eyes start to water when your brain reaches an end and think that there’s no way of escaping this.

He calls one of his men and several others starts to approach as well, all wearing the same look of lust. Jay grabs a handful of your hair and yank it backwards, forcing you to look up. “She’s all yours..”

The nearest guy smirks and licks his lips as he looks at you and starts to strip his pants. You look away immediately. You let out a cry when the guy kneels beside you and yanks your jeans down, exposing your bottom.

“No, no please, please-“ you start to beg and Jimin hisses.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut.” He grits. “Don’t beg.”

You look at him and find him staring right back at you.

“Just look at me.” He says and fresh set of tears run down your cheeks.

The guy smacks your behind making you cry in pain and you almost collapse to the ground but he holds your waist firmly, groping each side harshly. Then, you feel a hand slides from your shoulder towards your throat and slowly starts choking you.

Your head starts to spin from the lack of air supply and you want to scream so badly but no words could come out. The pressure on your throat is so immense and your lung starts to ache.

Then you see a knife hovering in front of you.

A moment of realization hits you that you’re really about to die and it suddenly makes it so imperative that you tell something to Jimin.

“J-Jimin- I love-“

But before you could finish your words, you hear people bursting the doors open and people in suits come rushing in large quantity.

You try to focus your vision on your husband.

His face is calm. Too calm.

Your sight moves towards the crowd rushing in again and briefly sees Taeseok among them and a rush of relief runs through you. The guy choking you eases his grip on your throat instantly as he gets distracted and you feel like collapsing immediately as you struggle to breath again.

Everything happens so quickly. Someone rushes to your husband’s side and unties him and then he’s beside you instantly while someone else unties you. You try your best to glance behind you and sees Jungkook frantically untying you after fixing your clothes.

“Y/N oh my god-“

Jimin quickly shrugs his coat off his shoulder and immediately covers you. He looks at you as he holds you tight. His embrace is so warm and you just want to close your eyes and lean against him. “Keep your eyes open, we’re getting out of here.” He says roughly.

You’re not entirely sure with your vision but you think someone gives Jimin a gun and he starts shooting at people and you freeze, sounds blaring so loudly in your ear. You let out a strangled scream and you squirm away under his embrace that he looks down immediately. Then he looks at Jungkook.

“Jungkook.” He says and Jungkook nods and you feel yourself slipping out of Jimin’s hold while Jungkook brings you flush against him.

For a moment, there are just sounds of guns, people screaming and punches being thrown.

Jungkook pulls you to the side where it’s safer but you just can’t shut your eyes when there’s too many things going on. You then try to focus on your husband. He’s a good few metres away from you and you couldn’t clearly see the face of the other person but you think Jimin’s holding the guy that was going to rape you just now. And then he shoots him right in the head without thinking. And then another shot right at his chest even though the guy’s already crumbling to the ground, lifeless.

Someone then comes up and thrusts your brother to Jimin, making him kneel in front of your husband. You don’t see it before but you now notice that he’s holding a knife on his right hand. Jay’s expression turns horror as Jimin nears him. And then slowly, your husband carves his face with the knife as your brother’s inhuman shriek fills the warehouse.

Your eyes go wide with horror as you watch the traumatising scene unfolds. You feel a scream bubbling from deep inside your throat yet they’re unable to escape from your lips. Your throat somehow still feels constricted.

“Holy fucking shit.” Jungkook mutters and you realize his grip on your arms tightens.

It’s slowly getting more quiet in the warehouse as most of your brother’s or Clara Kim’s men are now dead as they were hugely outnumbered by Jimin’s people. You then realize that he’s taking his time with your brother.

“What did you say you’re about to do to my wife? Cut out her face?” He chuckles. “Let me show you the real art.”

He leans close.

And then he carves your brother’s right eye out while he shrieks in pain.

“This is for touching my wife.”

And then he carves the other one.

“This is for messing with me.”

The scream finally escapes your lips.

“Fuck-“ Jungkook says and quickly covers your eyes and mouth.

The screaming doesn’t stop for a few more minutes and you think you’ll remember your brother’s inhuman scream till the day you die.

“Jimin stop it. She’s gonna get a trauma.” You hear someone says. Jin..?

You hear footsteps approaching you and then suddenly, Jungkook’s hand is being yanked away and your husband’s face comes into view. His forehead beaded with sweat and his expression furious.

You look at him in horror, frankly still traumatised and terrified at him.

But he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he thrusts a gun into your hand. “Do you want to kill him?”

Your panic immediately and clutched his arm desperately. “No, no please- let’s just go-“

“Ssh.. ssh I’m here.” He takes back the gun. “And we’re gonna get out of here.” He pulls you into his embrace, cocks the gun and fire a shot straight into Jay’s head.

Your entire body freeze. You watch in horror as your brother’s life starts seeping out, his breathing ragged until finally.. it stops.

“Good God- did you really have to shoot him in front of Y/N?” You hear Namjoon says.

“What?” Jimin asks, confused.

“God, you’re so stupid sometimes Park Jimin.” Yoongi says roughly.

Your husband finally turns to look at you and registers the paleness of your face. “Y/N, you okay?” He asks and then makes you stand to your feet. He keeps his hand steady on your waist and you’re thankful because you can’t feel your feet at all.

You don’t know how but from the corner of your eyes, you see someone who’s lying on the floor slowly lifts a gun and your eyes widen when you realize he’s aiming at your husband.

One of Jimin’s bodyguard sees it too and moves to kick the gun away and he did- but not before the guy cocks the gun and all the bodyguard manages to do is change the target, because the bullet hits you instead.

You fell to the ground immediately when the bullet cuts through your shoulder. It’s weird because it hurts so much that you almost feel nothing at all.

Jimin’s eyes widen when he sees you.

For a brief moment, you think you see your whole life flashes by in your mind very quickly.

If you die right now at the hands of your husband.. that you’d fallen in love with.. it doesn’t seem so bad..

You smile.

Then slowly, you bring your hand up to Jimin’s face to touch him one last time.

And then everything blacks out.

A/N: I rarely write post chapter notes because I’m afraid it would destroy your emotions lol but I just wanna thank everyone who had given support since day 1.. the story would not have come this far without the kind words you guys gave me. I feel a little bit emotional because we’re almost more than halfway through with their journey.. haha okay I’ll stop here. see you guys in the next chap! 🥰

Buy me a coffee here! 💜

Link to Chapter 21

Posted on 210516 9:00PM

[pastaimpact]

Since ur a catboy and maid simp 👀👀👀👀

Catboy maid headcanons for xiao, scaramouche, zhongli, kaeya and diluc?

Like, they lost a bet and have to drink a potion from albedo that turns them into catboy maid or smth pls?

-mac bulli anon

if u see me rotting, no u didnt

Xiao’s displeased by the transformation, but he has better things to do than to get worked up by a small thorn in his side. He has evil spirits to get rid off, and archons be damned if he’s going to let a pair of furry ears and a tail get in the way of his duty. It’s an odd sight, seeing him swing around his jade spear with his mask on, only to be moe-fied by his ears.

He insists on carrying out his own duties, saying that your selfish desires to have him as your maid won’t overrule his original contract to Rex Lapis. Chances are, you won’t even get him into the maid outfit before he goes running off to dispel some spirits. It can’t be helped: Xiao is someone who values Liyue’s peace before he values anything else, although he does feel a bit fuzzy inside when he sees how ecstatic you are over how cute he looks.

If he does find a moment of reprieve, that’s your best chance to capitalize on his transformation. Xiao claims that he needs no attention or extra love from you, that he’s a yaksha who works alone out of fear of harming you, but he’s still someone who craves for the gentle touch of a fellow being. Tell him that he’s done a good job and that you’re proud of him while cupping his face, and next thing you know, he’ll have slotted himself against your body and tell you that this isn’t necessary, all while his tail wags around happily. Archons forbid that anyone tries to interrupt your cuddling session, because he’ll start hissing like an actual cat the moment your attention is turned away from him.

Xiao purred against your skin, his head resting on the area in between your shoulder and neck. He was always cat-like to begin with: coy, distance, but still gentle and affectionate at the right times. You fondled his ears the way he liked them, and his tail curled up in satisfaction.

“What a pretty kittycat you are,” you cooed, your voice low and calm, like the careful trills of a lullaby. “Always working so hard... Always caring for someone other than yourself... What a good boy.”

“...Keep going,” he murmured, scooting closer to you when you stopped petting him for a second. You let a smile grace your lips as you stroked his soft fur again, enjoying the way the catboy immediately relaxed against you. 

How adorable.

Scaramouche is livid, to say the least, by this change. He’s a Fatui Harbinger, and someone who demands nothing short of utmost respect and authority from those around him. Being demoted to not only a servant, but not even a human one at that, is a stain against his spotless, untouchable command.

The entire time he’s placed under your care, he grumbles and snaps at everything that comes his way. He mutters that you should be grateful he’s even putting up with this, and he might just flat-out refuse to do the things you ask of him—until you tell him that you’ll ask someone else, like Signora or Childe. Only then does he come scrambling back to you with a pout on his face and his ears pressed against his head to scold you and say that he could do a better job than any of those sloppy Harbingers could.

He also threatens you, saying that you owe him for humiliating him like this, but he also forgets all about being mean to you the moment you start petting his ears and scratching behind them. Scaramouche swears on his life that he hates being treated like this, but the way he clings to you and purrs loudly clearly says otherwise. He’ll get huffy and frown if you stop petting him, so be prepared for him to completely monopolize your time.

“I hate you for this,” he hissed, practically bristling in your lap. You bit back a laugh, feeling the way he wrapped his arms tightly around your torso, pulling himself as close as he could to your chest. “You’re terrible.”

“It’s ‘You’re terrible, Master’ to you,” you teased, burying your fingers in his hair to tease his ears. The Harbinger opened his mouth as if to snap back at you with a haughty remark, but he immediately melted into your touch instead, giving soft mewls and twisting his head against your skin so that he could feel more of your touch.

“I-I still hate you,” he grumbled, forcing himself to frown at you and huff. He dug his nails into your clothes, settling his chin on your shoulder so that you couldn’t see the blush rising to his cheeks. “Master.”

Zhongli has seen his fair share of oddities, being an archon and all, so he’s grown to get used to whatever life throws at him all while honoring his own approach to life and any traditions he upholds. While being transformed into a cat and a maid, for that matter, is surprising, it’s probably nothing more than a mild inconvenience to a god that once held the ability to shift into a variety of different forms.

He’s a skilled and knowledgeable man, so he’s more than willing to assist you in a variety of topics. His one condition while being placed under your care is that you treat him with the same respect you would show him at any other time. While he may be relatively polite and mild-mannered, he still was a very potent and feared God of War at one point in his life. He doesn’t expect much from you; just drop any funny business around him, and he’ll entertain you for hours with his knowledge about politics, arts, and other fine subjects.

Zhongli is good about keeping his emotions in check, and even with cat ears and a tail, it’s still fairly difficult to gauge how he truly feels. Of course, his new body does betray him every now and then: a flick of his tail to signify intrigue, ears pressed against his head for annoyance, a twitch of his nose for interest. It’s best not to tease him or pry into how he feels whenever he does make an odd movement, but it wouldn’t hurt to present yourself appropriately depending on whatever mood he’s in based off of his little actions. Besides, it’s not everyday that you can see someone as respected and feared as Zhongli in a cute maid dress with his tail swishing excitedly behind him.

His entrance was quiet, and the only thing that even signaled his presence in the room was the rustle of fabric as he walked towards you. His tail was still, and his ears perked up like it had been for the day, ever since he downed the transformation potion. “I brought you tea.”

You looked up from your paperwork, smiling softly at the former archon. You pulled a stray chair close to where you were seated, inviting him to sit down as he set the teacup down in front of you. “You shouldn’t have!”

He shook his head, his ears twitching with the slightest hint of satisfaction as he sat down. “It was about time you took a break. I thought I would remind you not to push yourself too far by bringing you something to relax with. Do drink up; I brewed it myself with prized leaves.”

Kaeya’s all about staying a step ahead of the game, and the moment fluffy cat ears and a tail sprout up on his body, there’s a good chance that he’s already found loads of ways to capitalize on his features to get what he wants. The best way to get information from anyone is to get them to let their guard down, and it’s hard to be intimidated by someone who looks like a stuffed animal.

Which is exactly what he does. There’s a good chance that Kaeya’s been observing you for a while, for whatever reasons he might have (be it personal or for the Knights of Favonius), so he’ll definitely use his cat features to his advantage. He’ll snuggle up to you and let you relax by teasing you with his tail and his ears, and he’ll let his silvery tongue do the rest as he extracts bits and pieces of information from you like he was extracting honey from a beehive.

Kaeya rocks the whole maid concept better than anyone else. Flexibility and adaptability are just a few of his many strong suits, and he might even go along with playing pretend with you just out of the goodwill of his heart. He’s extorted you already for loads of intel, so the least he can do to get you to keep staying so lax around him is to humor you just a bit. It’s also a good chance to see you smiling and laughing as you bury your head into his hair, and it sure doesn’t hurt to hear you gush over how much of a majestic catboy he is.

You felt his fluffy tail slink against your arms, Kaeya splayed out across your lap with the most smug smile you’ve ever seen from him. “Awwww, your tail is so cute! I wish I could just hold it and fall asleep! It feels just like a cloud!”

“Does it now, Master?” Kaeya purred, batting his eyeslashes. It had only been about fifteen minutes since he barged into your room to show off his cat features, and he had already gotten enough info about you to entertain him for weeks. “You can pet me more, if you’d like.”

You lit up, completely oblivious to the fact that Kaeya had you wrapped around his little finger. You were far too innocent, too careless even, and Kaeya found it amusing. “Oh, Kaeya! You’re the best!”

Diluc’s also fairly annoyed by this mess, but he isn’t one to viciously fight against what’s already happened. It is rather irritating to have to put all of his responsibilities aside for another day, but he’s capable businessman who’s used to having to adapt to all sorts of situations. Being turned into the catmaid is by far not the worst of his problems, but it’s enough of a change to actually make him think about how he presents himself not only to you but the people of Mondstadt as well.

He has maids around his winery, so he mimics his ow behavior with what he wants of them. Of course, you don’t make him cook or clean or anything like that, and similarly to Zhongli, he makes sure to treat you with respect as long as you do the same. Diluc’s a very pragmatic man, and he simply takes his duty as a maid to keep you out of trouble, accompanying you whenever you need to head out to protect you from stray monsters or helping you with any finances that you might have to sort out.

His only request is that he doesn’t let anyone outside of his immediate circle know about his current affliction. The last thing he needs is his reputation as a respectable tycoon tarnished, and he sure as hell doesn’t need Kaeya strolling around to mess with him. If it incentivizes you to keep the whole temporary catmaid thing under wraps, he’ll tell you that it can be a little secret between the two of you. It’s best that you give him your word, lest you end up on the wrong side of his stoic mannerisms.

“Good work today,” you remarked, offering up a meek smile to the Dawn Winery owner. “It must have been a lot of work. You know, having to deal with the whole transformation thing while running a business.”

Diluc glanced momentarily you, his ears pressing against his head. You wasn’t sure if it was out of annoyance or shyness, but you decided that it was the latter, as Diluc hadn’t walked away from you just yet. “It’s fine. Albedo said it should wear off any day now.”

“Mmm. But still, if you ever need help from me, let me know, okay? I know I’m your ‘master’ temporarily, but we’re still friends,” You laughed. The corners of Diluc’s mouth twitched as he turned away.

“Goodnight then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”