#but expect nothing less for my dearly beloveds

[loriane-elmuerto]

—WIP FRIDAY (whatever we ride)

got tagged by the lovelies @imogenkol and @d-esmond to share the latest and hottest i'm working on, thank you so much!!! 🥰🥰 warning: it's long

a little character study ft @shellibisshe's amazing oc Blythe <3

gonna tag (taglist to opt in/out for future content if you want!):

@viktorgf, @ghostfvcker, @roofgeese, @queennymeria, @florbelles, @jackiesarch, @risingsh0t, @countessrooster, @lucky-107, @unholymilf, @cryptcombat, @cptcassian, @thedeadthree, @carrionsflower, @frankwoods, @shadowglens, @sigmatiqvevo, @auricfog

There are several facts that can be treated as an undisputed and universal truth about the residents of the Lighthouse.

Firstly, Blythe Mercar has a soft spot for her friends. A couple of days prior, Jehan had very sweetly (read: dropping some key phrases such as "I'd be happy if you'd keep me company" and "we haven't had a chance to spend time together, just the two of us") asked the woman to accompany them to the Hossberg Wetlands in order to check on the surviving Grey Wardens. Blythe couldn't say no, there was something out there that made her fond of those dark and terrifying bogs.

Which is how she found herself sitting in the Lighthouse kitchen at the earliest hours of the morning, with dawn barely breaking out. Blythe, personally, would've preferred to wake up at least an hour or two later, but Jehan noted that their work may last through the entire day, and they did not want to get stuck in the bogs at nightfall.

The fireplace in front of her was casting a comforting, easy warmth, definitely not helping with the current dilemma of catching a few more winks or staying awake at all costs. Listening to the crackle of the wood, Blythe felt her mind slowly drifting. Maybe, if she breathes deep and closes her eyes for a minute, she'll—

"Mind if I join you, Rook?"

There goes that dream.

With her mind still trying to catch up to her, the mage slowly turned her head to the side, only to see Lucanis standing beside her, seemingly right after morning exercises, with a fresh cup of that hot chocolate drink in his hands. Which was now extended to her as a peace offering for disturbing her... Meditation. Allowing some of the frown to ease away from her forehead, Blythe took the cup and focused her attention to the fireplace once more. Lucanis took that as a sign of approval and sat down on the chair closest to her.

As the silence stretched on, the woman started to believe this would be their only interaction today, which was more than enough for her.

Unfortunately.

"Is there a problem between us?" Blythe had to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes and groaning in response.

The second universal truth is that Lucanis Dellamorte has atrocious timing.

Seeing how the man was not planning to leave his spot any time soon, the mage decided to indulge his little interrogation.

"Is there?"

"You tell me. I've been on the receiving end of this... Attitude," Lucanis made a sweeping gesture with his free hand, "Ever since we met. We cannot be in the same room because you choose to leave every time I'm visiting someone else. And I've overheard what you've mentioned about me to the others, especially within my earshot." Blythe spared a glare in his direction and this did not escape the assassin's attention. "The walls can become thin when they want to be."

Rook could not deny these words. All of this had happened and more than once, from the moment they said their greetings, right until now.

But he was not the only wounded party here. Taking a sip of the hot chocolate, her eyes remaining fixed on the fire, she spat back, "And you did not hesitate, even once, to criticize me, in my face, around other people as well. Especially when we're out on the field. If I recall, your words were "impatient, impulsive, a danger to herself and others if left unchecked". Takes one to know one, doesn't it?"

Silence fell once more between them. Judging by the way Lucanis's head slowly lowered besides her, Blythe decided she won this duel. Was it a low blow? For a bystander, perhaps. To her, it was an equal swing, one of many they've been trading for months now. Seemingly, the intimate brush with death did little to change their opinions.

"I'm just trying to look out for you, you know."

Well that was unexpected.

The mage mentally patted herself on the back for not flinching in reaction to his confession.

"You're doing a shit job at it, then."

Lucanis was not quick to answer. He knew he had to choose his next words carefully. Otherwise, this relationship would not be one that can be salvaged any longer.

"I know. I've never been... Good with words, and I will be the first person to admit it. But I do not wish you ill, Blythe. Outside of the Lighthouse walls, I trust your abilities, and I always try to look out for you, just as I do for the others. Including Davrin, because I can see how important he is to you." The last sentence was a gamble on his part, and yet Lucanis dared to look at his companion, to see openly what her reaction will be.

In truth, Blythe did not have it in her to actually hate the man. Was he a nuisance and a daily annoyance? Unfortunately, for him, he was.

However, there was a truth to his words. Blythe had taken notice that Lucanis played no favorites, despite swirling rumors suggesting otherwise. More than once, she had found herself saved from a deadly enemy strike thanks to his keen eye and quick calls on the battlefield, not to mention his deadly abilities and swift daggers, always striking true. The woman would rather be caught dead than admit it out loud, but she has come to see Lucanis as an older sibling, who didn't hesitate to push her to her limits. Never out of sheer malice, always worried in his own, indecipherable way. The whetstones he bought her during one of his many trips to Treviso with Isadora was also in active use. The man always had an eye for quality.

Maker, why did she agree to this discussion at this hour?

After a few precious heartbeats, Rook met Lucanis's look with one of her own.

"Listen, I... Appreciate your efforts Lucanis, and I have noticed them, for whatever it's worth. But this discussion we're having right now? It happened because you decided to take a swing at me, and I will always swing lower. So if you want for us to not "have a problem", something needs to change with both of us, not just me."

Lucanis could physically feel a weight dropping from his chest. His relationship with Blythe has been a topic on his mind even before Aldonza demanded for the team to get their act together following the tragedy of Weisshaupt, yet he could not find the right words or the right time to approach her. And, if he was being honest with himself, he was afraid of the outcome.

"I agree. Here's to a better communication between us," Lucanis raised his cup, and Blythe met it with hers in the middle with a quiet clink.

Hearing the armoured footsteps approaching the dining room's doors, Blythe downed the remainder of her drink, set the cup on the table, and got up from her seat. Looking one last time at the assassin, she muttered a low "Thanks for this."

And she was off.

[beababoobies]

NAUGHTY BOY! -

a collection of what makes the jjk men so naughty - ft GETO, NANAMI, CHOSO. 𝜗𝜚 a/n : this is dedicated to my dearly beloved @bugbonesandthinskin , my favs for my fav. Enjoy my love! <3

CHOSO KAMO 𝜗𝜚 - poor baby!

Choso is fucking whiney. Choso will paw at you, at your body, whining and trying to discretely hump you. He’s such a desperate little puppy, it would be pathetic if it didn’t make you completely fold for him.

Choso is insanely sensitive - but also insanely filled with stamina. Sure, he’ll be whining and cumming under you in less than two minutes - but that doesn’t mean the fun has stopped, oh no, he’s practically used to the sensation of overstimulation by now. The first time you were intimate with him, he looked surprised when you asked if he wanted to stop after he finished. 

“D-does that mean it’s over? I u-usually do that at like five time w-when I get myself off.” 

He’s perfectly ready to be your mouldable little toy, to be ruined and wrecked by every naughty thing you know how to do that he couldn’t even fathom to have existed. But you have to be careful, ready - because once you’ve started, you’d be brave to try and stop. Because he’ll be behind you, arms wrapped around your waist after you tried to brush him off. Two days is really the most he can go before he feels like he’ll breakdown.

 It’s almost cute how insensitive he is to how taboo sex is actually supposed to be. He’s so confused when you blush or get why when he mentions something about having sex out of nowhere, or mentions something he fantasized about last night. You’ll be sitting on the couch, morning cup of tea in your grasp, gently blowing in it, waiting it for it to be just cold enough for you to drink, when your boyfriend sneaks in between your thighs, and -

“Can I eat you out? Please? Wanna feel you, feel you cum on my tongue…” 

He’s lucky you didn’t almost spill the cup of scolding hot liquid all down his face. 

GETOU SUGURU 𝜗𝜚 - t-that’s gross!

Geto is nasty because he’s just nasty. There’s nothing about his sexual habits that scream vanilla, or soft. He loves seeing you humiliated, embarrased about how your body keeps betraying you under his touch. All with your consent, of course, safe words - but there’s something about you sobbing and trying to squirm away from him that has him fucking throbbing.

The first time he ate you out, he could easily be mistaken for a man who had been crawling the desert for thousands of years coming in contact with his first taste of ice cold water. His entire face shoved in between your juicy folds, tongue pressed deeply against your clit as he used his tongue to scrape and squeeze out every little remnant of your slick from your cunt. Every little speck of your taste from every crevice of your walls, it’s his. 

And by the end, when you cried and sobbed and tried to pull him away with the cry of worrying you might squirt and practically drown the man, he pulled your thighs so quickly you could swear his faces collision with your slit could have broken his nose. Poor man couldn’t even care about air, broken noses, water down the wrong pipe, when you’re crying and trying to push at his head away while you shoot a stream of cum straight into his wanting mouth.

It’s that - or it’s grabbing you, tasting you, or fucking you in places of your body you wouldn’t ever expect someone to get creative enough to do. There’s in-between your thighs, of course, but that’s a classic - no, this man will rut his cock against your soft tummy and make your beg him to fuck you. He’ll watch his tip bump against your belly button as you whine and complain. 

His favourite? Using all your holes when you never expect it. Eating you out, and letting his tongue slip down to your ass, feeling you try to squirm away with protests. “T-that’s nasty, Sugu!” “S-sugu, that’s gross, you don’t h-have to -“ only to be silenced by your own whines when his tongue gently makes its way inside the tighter puckered hole, pressing up eagerly against your most sensitive spots . Because it’s beautiful to live on your perineum, to him, live in a state of consistently having access to ruining you. 

NANAMI KENTO 𝜗𝜚  - a man, ruined!

Nanami is a simple man. He hates work. He hates his job. He doesn’t like xyz, and he likes zyx. It’s not his fault that when you came into his life, he wanted to tear you apart for making him feel pushed out of his love for normalcy. You made him feel like a feral creature how you lead him to spending nights doing things that would change the worlds reputation of him.

Mating press after mating press, he feels so nasty but he can’t stop. You’re so easy to move, like putty in his hands. The way you’ll bend over, kneel, and cum at his command has him feeling out of control. At work, nearly off the clock, when his mind flashes to the way he held you to his chest by your stomach, other hand on your chin, letting you suck on his fingers as you slowly rode him until you were dumb. The way your pretty lacy lingerie slipped down enough for your breasts to poke out. And suddenly he’s running to the nearest restroom, flushed and bothered.

Because when he’s had other relationships, when he’s dated other women, hookups - none of them entranced him quite like you. It felt good, it was great, sure. But he wishes he could get the noise you make when you feel yourself getting close tattoos on his mind, that excited little whine when you realize you’re about to get what you want, the way your eyes light up, even if you’ve only been at it for a handful of minutes, you are just so ready to make a mess for him, so eager to let yourself get dumber and dumber everytime you cum. It’s filthy how much he wouldn’t mind quitting his job so he can spend all his time breaking you down to less than a human. Having you practically live on his swollen and sensitive cock. 

Nanami is a man ruined. Secretly, sure. He can hide it pretty well. In fact, no one would even know he had a pretty little thing like you to his name. But it was getting harder and harder to remain composed. Steady. Normal. When all his mind could think about the view of your cunt gently lowering itself onto his face. The way you put your whole weight on him, the way he didn’t even have to ask you.

[necrotic-nephilim]

for the ask game (1)

au where bruce is attracted to his robins and batgirls. he tries not to think about it or act on it, but it's getting more difficult with every new member of his team he acquires. does anyone know? do the robins and batgirls notice his weird behavior? what do they do about it? do they ever find out the truth? who would think it's terrible and who would find it strangely hot/comforting/nice? does bruce ever act on his feelings?

for the ask game!

oh my GOD do i have thoughts for AUs like this, i love this shit so dearly, dirtybadwrong Bruce who's trying to keep a lid on it my beloved.

i think the fun of this AU is if characters would notice Bruce lusting for themselves vs would they notice Bruce lusting for a different Robin/Batgirl. like does Dick pick up on it when it's just him and Bruce? no, because it's just. him and Bruce. he and Bruce are weird and complicated and hold endless bounds of nuance. that's just How Bruce Is, and Dick is the "test run", in a sense. he knows Bruce is new to this whole sidekick/family thing and is giving Bruce grace for being rough around the edges. but when Bruce starts looking at Jason or Tim or Cass that way, that's when Dick starts to notice. it's never enough of a suspicion he feels justified to bring it up, but the thought lingers. he's hyperaware and grows less and less comfortable with leaving them alone with Bruce. it's a weird game of chicken, Dick and Bruce staring each other down when Bruce's touch lingers too long. each waiting for the other to say something first. if Bruce ever broke and actually acted on his feelings, Dick would be eaten alive by the guilt of knowing something was up, but never saying something until it was too late.

obviously, Cass would know. there's no world where Cass *doesn't* know, the nature of who and what she is would immediately clock it. but the issue is, Cass doesn't have a good framework of what family looks like. she doesn't really understand familial vs romantic love bc she has no firsthand experience of what a parent's love should even look like. so she never calls it out. she just watches. i'm a fan of Cass believing this is normal and believing she too can express and act on attraction that's vaguely incestuous. maybe it's with Babs, maybe it's with Dick or Tim or Bruce himself. but she recognizes this as Normal and Accepted within the Batfamily, so it severely fucks up her understanding of familial love and i just. man it's my favorite thing about Cass in Batcest honestly, is how you can play with her lack of experience with love, boundaries, and sexuality.

Tim is the fun one for me. because my favorite flavor of BruTim is when Tim knows, as he agrees to be Robin, that there's a non-zero chance that Bruce is going to be Weird and agrees anyway because he's decided it's an acceptable risk. so Tim knows from the get-go because he's expecting it. if Bruce acts on his attraction, i think it's either with Tim or Cass first, because they're the most likely to confront him about it in a way that isn't entirely negative. Tim has accepted it's a possibility and Cass just seeks being loved and touched so. it leads to the first time someone's ever confronted Bruce about it. and the thing is, Bruce really doesn't like confrontation about his flaws. the first time Tim tries to imply he's okay with it, Bruce would lash out at the idea, tell Tim how inappropriate that is and benches Tim for a week. it'd probably take a united front from Cass and Tim to get Bruce to even *admit* to the attraction. still Bruce wouldn't allow it to happen and he brushes them off until finally, the dam breaks. it's fun if there's a cause like sex pollen, but i think it's *more* fun if it's just. a random fucking Tuesday and finally Bruce is at his limit. he has no real reason, there's nothing particularly different about that day's routine. he just sees Tim or Cass striping armor and sighs and gives in.

i don't think Steph, Jason, or Babs would notice until anything substantial happened. not because they're not wicked smart, but just because none of them were looking for it. Jason put Bruce on a pedestal when he was alive, and when he came back from the dead he wasn't close enough to be noticing Bruce's interpersonal dynamics outside of his narrow scope. Steph has no real framework for what healthy fatherhood looks like, so if Bruce's touches linger, if he stares too long, she just shrugs and assumes it's how it is. and Babs was just never quite close enough to Bruce to notice. if and when she notices, is when actual sexual things start to happen between Cass and Bruce. because Cass would see no reason to hide it. Babs would be pissed, but it'd be tricky to navigate. Cass would be an adult, even if she's only 18/19, so technically, she's old enough to be consenting. if nothing else, Bruce is a careful man. even when he breaks and gives in to his desires, he covers his tracks well. he makes sure he has enthusiastic consent and there's no legal recourse that could be taken. age of consent and all that. there's not much Babs can *do* other than try to tell Cass (and/or Tim) that this isn't normal or okay. not that it gets her anywhere, but god would she try.

by the time Duke comes along (if we venture out of the pre-Flashpoint era) i think it's a sort of. open secret, in the Batfamily. talked about in nothing but hushed whispers and knowing glances. at some point, they've all had sex with Bruce, caving all for different reasons. some more than others. Tim sees it as a duty, Cass sees it as a way of seeking comfort, Steph sees it as getting Bruce's approval for once, etc. it's never forced on them, but eventually, they all come to Bruce sooner or later. and that's the fun irony of it, i think. they try to convince the others not to, but would go to Bruce on their own well. because complicated reasons they can't put into words. sometimes, Bruce is just a messy man who doesn't realize how prized his Attention to for the rest of the Batfamily. that weird duality of not liking him, but also wanting desperately for him to like you. all of them have dealt with it, at some point. so for Duke, it takes a while for him to understand this... whole dynamic. it's Cass who tries to explain it to him, and he's a little horrified, a lot confused. especially when Bruce starts staring at him a little too long as well. i think he'd only want to watch first but well. they all cave eventually.

also fun bonus if we venture into the Dark Knight Returns universe for my bestest girl Carrie Kelley: there's such a like, "i'm fucking around and i'm finding out" vibe to Carrie. like Tim, she's very proactive in just. deciding she's going to be Robin and she's ready for whatever that entails. (IMO canon Carrie is closer to fanon Tim than canon Tim is but *that* deserves its own post-) like she takes one look at the old man that is Batman and goes yup. he's never fucking getting rid of me now. if Bruce started having weird feelings about her, i think she'd have *fun* with it. she's decided she's in it for the long haul and for whatever being Robin means so. she's almost teasing about it, seeing how hard she can push before Bruce snaps. since it's an older, gruffer Bruce, i think he'd express open annoyance at it first, almost a sort of banter about how Carrie behave. but of course he caves and Carrie leans into it, because there's a fun in having all of Bruce's attention to herself. in the main timeline, Bruce is pretty split with so many Robins and Batgirls, but during their era, it's *just* her and him and she's very proud she's got him all to herself.

[bruisedloverr]

Oath

◾ Summary: Sydney wanted to show you how much he adored you, in his own way. ◾ Relationship: Player/Sydney ◾ Tags: Blood play, Wax play, Alternative Universe, Drugged sex ◾ Notes: I tagged drugged sex in case the Prayer Room's incense counts, lol. This is for my AU, the horror movie one! You can find more information on it here. The AO3 link is here. Uuu enjoy. :)

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

Of course, Sydney had to pick three in the morning the perfect hour to make this ritual. Not like you exactly minded, despite your current exhaustion. Maybe the prayer room’s incense will make it so you feel less like it and more lightweight. Your worries will melt away, as they always do in that room. Specially, when your beloved is by your side.

You made him this way. You corrupted him, perhaps for your own amusement or something else entirely, and without planning to, you made him lust for blood. Not only in the murder sense. He didn’t care about some poor chaste temple initiate’s spilled guts in a Full Moon ritual, after he basically sold them to their own death by tricking them into believing he was still the pure boy they always knew. However, he did desire to see your blood, taste it. That would make your bond stronger, if possible, having the privilege of savoring such an intimate part of you. Bound by the flesh, bones, blood, and every part of your bodies.

You two sat in front of each other, hearts racing with anticipation, illuminated by just some red candles. The incense swirled around, making the air heady with its sweet scent. Your gaze locked onto his. His excitement was palpable, and you couldn’t deny the fact your mind was finding the idea more alluring with each second. This felt right, and even inevitable. Almost as if you owed him this, after you changed his worldview entirely.

Each time a temple member goes missing two weeks before a Blood Moon, you remind yourself this is your fault, too. If you just left him on his own, he wouldn’t be helping those weird cultists in an attempt to rebel against the oppressive Temple he used to dearly adore. The corruption has been slowly seeping into both of your lives, it seems. It led to this moment, sacred for you two, profane for the rest.

Sydney took a deep breath, picking the ornate dagger he brought from outside and got from… somewhere. That “where”, was a mystery. The blade gleaned wickedly in the candlelight, and he smiled softly. “I’ll go first,” he said, his voice a whisper.

He drew the blade across his palm, gasping at the pain. A gasp that almost sounded like a moan. Blood welled up, dark and rich in the dim light. Without hesitation, he took your hand, making a matching cut. The sting was sharp but fleeting, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. He leaned in and kissed your palm, licking a bit of the coppery liquid. He looked at you, as if expecting something, and you kissed his hand, your tongue reaching to taste a bit of his blood, too. The intimacy of it all felt intoxicating.

With a familiar tenderness, he presses your bleeding palms together, intertwining your fingers.

“With this blood,” Sydney said, his smile wide now, “I bind myself to you. In life, in death, in the spaces between. My body is yours, my soul is yours, my very essence belongs to you.” He can barely contain his excitement, and you felt a tingling sensation coursing through you as well.

You don’t know how or when it happened, but both of your clothes had been shed at some point. Your bare skin was shown, and signs of arousal were becoming way too apparent.

The words seemed to hang in the air, vibrating with love. You repeated them, feeling each syllable resonating through your being. Sydney freed his hand from yours, cupped your face, and drew you in for a searing kiss. It's like nothing you've experienced before – raw, primal, tinged with the intimacy of it all. Your cheek got stained with his blood.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Sydney's eyes were wild with a mixture of lust and something darker. The incense was doing its number on him, again, and he looked like he would pin you down and fuck you raw at any moment. He reached for one of the tall, red candles burning around you two.

With an urgency that bordered on violence, he grabbed you by the arm, keeping you close. He tilted the candle, allowing a drop of hot wax fall onto your collarbone. With your senses altered, what should have been painful felt like a pleasant, yet intense, heat burning right through your veins, shooting directly to your crotch. You couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped through your lips.

Satisfied and encouraged by your reaction, Sydney traced a path down your chest with the wax, each drop eliciting gasps and shudders of pleasure. He almost shoved the candle to you, and you happily returned the favor. You dripped wax onto his sternum, fascinated by the way it rolled down his chest. Another drop. And another. Sydney's eyes fluttered closed, a low moan escaping his lips. The sound ignited a fire in your heart, and you couldn't help but being enraptured by the view.

Soon, you were both adorned with intricate patterns of cooled wax, skin flushed and breathing ragged. The blood on your palms had dried, but the connection between you felt stronger than ever.

You barely managed to set the candle aside when he jumped on top of you, his lips crashing against yours again with an utmost ferocity. You tasted blood yet again – whether from the oath or your frenzied kissing, you're not sure. Not like it mattered at this point.

The world seemed to spin around you two. Right now, no one else existed but you two. You could hear the murmurs of some prayers coming from Sydney’s lips, your name on them, being worshipped. His mouth latched onto your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. You arched into him, fingernails raking down his back. The sensations, whether pleasure or pain, seemed to spur him on, his hips grinding against yours with increased urgency.

Sydney's hand slipped between your legs, finding your most sensitive spots with practiced ease. His touch was electric, sending shockwaves of fire through your body. You writhed beneath him, desperate for more friction.

"Please," you gasp, the word barely audible.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Sydney positions himself, then enters you in one swift motion. The stretch burned deliciously, teetering on the edge of too much. You feel his foreskin separate from his glands, forever robbing him of his purity. Or at least, until you get out of the room.

As soon as he started to move, forming coherent thoughts became impossible. His thrusts were deep, relentless, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you. He appeared drunk on the sensations, and you too do. As always, when you defile the most sacred space in town.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper. Sydney's hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, using the leverage to drive into you with increased force. The room was full with the obscene sounds of flesh meeting flesh.

"Mine," Sydney growled, almost as if he was just thinking out loud, his pace becoming erratic. "We’re bound forever. More than ever.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you let out pants and moans, teetering on the edge of orgasm.

He captured your mouth yet another kiss, swallowing your cries as you came undone beneath him. Your body clenched around him, allowed yourself to get engulfed by your sinful adoration.

Sydney follows soon after, burying himself deep inside as he finds his release. His body shuddered against yours, a string of profanities mixed with your name falling from his lips.

It continued, neither of you knowing or caring enough to think how much time passed, how many orgasms you had, before the incense ran low, knocking you back into your senses.

You laid tangled together in the aftermath, sweat cooling on your flushed skin, the weight of the oath settling over you both. You were bound by blood, lust, and love. And for Sydney, after this, you were now his one, and only, being he wanted to worship. The only one worth it all.

[meimi-haneoka]

È il mio 10 anniversario su Tumblr 🥳

It's apparently my 10th anniversary on Tumblr 😳😳😳

This blog definitely didn't start as a CCS blog, or not even a Clamp blog, I remember I was in my Saint Tail brainrot/withdrawal period, and I wanted to ramble about it all alone on a personal space, always hoping that Tachikawa sensei one day would write the extra chapter that she talked about on her blog...hence why I chose this url. For this and another personal reason, actually. I also loved to RT all the nice screencaps and edits for my favorite anime...

...then 2016 came and the love of my life, CCS, came back and my blog was absolutely swept away by the excitement, turning pretty much into a constant stream of CCS content and chapter commentary for Clear Card each month. When the anime came out in 2018, things only got worse 😂 but then in 2020 I started to realize about the translation differences between the English version and the original Japanese, and I decided that my beloved story deserved better than that, better than being misunderstood like that, especially the new characters that in the meantime I came to love so dearly...

So pretty naturally, I started to vent my frustration compiling all the mistakes/differences every month, in a very "whoever is willing to read it, is welcome to do so" fashion. For my convenience the differences are always included in my commentary. I haven't gone around promoting my posts very much, it's basically always "I run into someone confused about a line in the Eng ver/got some facts wrong, I tell them that the original JP actually says something else and I leave a link to my blog".

The more the story went on, the more I wondered if I was stepping on anyone's toes for doing these posts, but with my immense joy it seems they got Clamp's blessing, so I'll keep doing them till the very end of the story.

In between these commentaries, I throw some other translations I do mainly for myself (Twitter Spaces where Sakura is mentioned, interviews especially about the anime, etc) and that I like to organize more or less neatly in one place, and that people can share if they want. And also my fanarts, even though they never do big numbers here. But heh, I'll keep sharing them here too, cause it's my blog after all.

So yeah, 10 years of this. There were definitely times when I've hated this website and its community since things were becoming pretty toxic, flames started randomly out of nowhere, I just hope once the anime will be back it won't be the same shit again. I stopped looking at the CCS tags because of that and other reasons connected to that, so unless one of the people I follow shares it and puts it on my dash, I almost never reblog CCS art/edits/gifs etc. Cause the pretty artworks aren't worth wrecking my mood because I found the nth person shaming something that I love (and the people who love that thing, with it). Sorry about that, my blog is pretty boring in that sense.

Luckily, Tumblr brought me also good things, so I guess it makes up for that. I've met lots of people from my current CCS "circle", here.

To be honest, I know I have 2626 followers (as of today), but to this day I still wonder why. I highly doubt all of them are here because they're interested in my posts, probably not even half of them, lol (and I do my best to kick the bots). Nonetheless, thank you to all the people who interact with my posts ❤️ and thank you for sending me nice asks every month! 🙏 I don't always reply to them right away and some of them I leave for later when I have a downtime (like this one ask that's pretty broad in topic and I'm keeping it for when I have a little more time and nothing else to talk about).

Since Clear Card will continue for a little more than expected, the monthly appointment here will continue in parallel, and I'm already preparing my next "trivia" post, it's a topic I wanted to talk about since looooooong time. 😉

[fumikomiyasaki]

"You are flesh and blood! You have feelings!" (with Louis and Renée :3c)

Concerned Starters

He bit his lip in fear... why... why did he have to fear losing someone again... he already lost enough as it was... his family, his title and also to some extent his sanity.... and now... cause of that woman... cause of him not being here at time... Renée was overblotting... was in grave danger. He slammed his fist into the wall out of frustration before he arrived... Just to see this horrid sight... the girl he loved crying her heart out... having tried so hard to appeal to her family before it broke her... how he wished he could just right now let his anger out on the person she called mother but... the well being of his beloved was more important...

And so despite the dangers he was set on chasing after her anyways...after all even if he had a role and a place to return to as a servant... what would be the point if he at least didn't try to save who he loved. He catched his breath arriving to look up at her eyes... he knew she wasn't fully herself right now so he still wanted to call out to her.

At least he just saw her yell out and push the problem away but still he was ready to face her.

"Renéeeee, listen to me!"

"You... did you came here with some kind of expectations too... want me the perfect girlfriend."

"No... I just want you to be you.... "

"I am nothing more than a puppet... that is all she ever wanted to be and she acheived it... there is nothing left inside me... not happy ending to be acheived... how can I be happy if I am always shaped by someone else..."

"You are flesh and blood! You have feelings! Who told me how dearly you wanted to one day see where i grew up... who listened when I shared all of my pain... It was you... all you... you cried with me... you laughed with me.. you made me less angry at the world... please don't give me more reasons to hate the world again... "

"No no... you are lying... I finally am perfect as I should be-"

"Listen to me... I may just be a lowly servant who lost everything but...I would give up everything again just to get you back and keep you happy."

Her eyes streamed tears.. everything went a mess, her hair causing some troubles all around... Louis hid behind a bit of rubble in hopes that his words reached her... but still even if one attack hurt his arm and she looked at him holding it he continued on.

"I... would give my life... my all... just to see you smile again."

[elderflowerchampagne]

161 (6/29)

Probably my best visit since reopening. Cast was an absolute embarrassment of riches, packed with favorites old and new: Mallory/Hecate, Zach McNally/Macbeth, Will B/Malcolm, Steph Troyak/Lady Macbeth, Taylor Massa/Sexy and Jenna/Lady Macduff. One of those rare, beautiful moments where I found myself standing in the ballroom whispering, "WHAAAAAAAAT. WHATTTTTTTT. WHATTTTTTTTT."

I can't speak for Danvers but Lady Macduff's 1:1 has, at long last, returned. The last time I got it was my last show before the shutdown, and oh, what a joy to get back into that room. As far as I could tell nothing's changed except one detail - she crosses you on your forehead, throat and hand rather than forehead, lip and throat. Lady Macduff's been my favorite character since Day 1, and so I spent what's supposed to be a tense and ominous moment with the biggest idiot grin on my face.

I've always worn rose colored glasses when it comes to the Macduffs and their marriage, and assumed that they were the picture of domestic bliss before Danvers showed up. The two of them messing around on their couch at the top of the loop has always been among my favorites, especially the moment where he walks his fingers up her leg. This was the first time I thought she might actually be afraid of her husband the same way Lady Macbeth is, and when they're wrestling on top of the china cabinet she might be wriggling away from him rather than towards something else.

Dearly beloved Mallory. On a less busy visit I'd have spent an entire loop with her but I was so pressed for time I ended up bringing her note to the porter, getting the boat from him and then leaving it on Lady Macduff's dressing table. Sorry.

I suspected Taylor would be brilliant and was correct.

I never noticed before that if you run by Malcolm's office while his coat and hat are hanging on the rack, they form the silhouette of a man standing there. I'll never get bored of the light tricks in this place.

I'm terrible at timing the sixth floor 1:1, and as I was heading for the bathroom I accidentally barged in on Michaela Esteban and her crowd and got swept into the 1:1 before I could get back out again. She's really wonderful.

Bumped into Lady Macduff's pregnant belly during the walkout and realized I'd never actually felt it before. I don't know what I was expecting, but it's a lot squishier than I thought it would be.

Midsommar was pretty standard. Fun and chaotic, nothing major to report except I and everyone else miss the old parties. But oh, McKittrick, beacon of joy and light, nexus of all that is good in my life, if you ever charge me for water again I'm gonna lose my mind.

[city0f-dreams]

It occurred to me in the last hour or so that I keep mentioning Basil this and Basil that and with the exception of one or two people there’s no one that currently writes with me that followed that blog he was on lol 😂 Apologies for that. Allow me to take a quick moment, then, to explain who he is, how I write him, and why I will continue to write him despite his actor/co-creator having dumb opinions as of late.

“Basil” is Basil Fawlty, the protagonist of the 70s British sitcom Fawlty Towers (a show I love dearly that, while beloved in the UK, has zero presence online or in the US). He owns and runs the titular hotel, but he’s the last person who should be in a position of customer service. He’s rude, snobbish, arrogant, has more than a bit of a temper, he’s a chronic blame shifter…you get the point, he’s a horrible person to be around. A lot of the comedy in the series comes from both karma kicking in and making his life a living hell and the antics that ensue as he tries to maintain the flimsy lies he starts. Yeah…British comedy is a lot more “Always Sunny” than “Friends” lol

On my old blog, however, I tried to make him…less annoying, is the word I would use? For the sake of threads not being unbearable to continue I allowed him to warm up and show reluctant forms of gratitude towards the muses I wrote with, and I’ll be continuing that here. Just don’t expect it to happen for a long while or unless it’s under extraneous circumstances. I also completely ignore he and the rest of the cast’s tendency to be xenophobic and/or bigots, because I’m not comfortable writing that and that’s not the kind of stuff I want to project out into the world. He’s still plenty rude in other ways, though. And that’s what makes him fun to write! None of my other muses are as unquestionably stuck up as he is.

However, the problem comes in with his actor and co-creator, Monty Python alum John Cleese. In the months following me starting to write him he began a track of saying and agreeing with the stupidest things, particularly regarding a certain author’s LGBTQ+ opinions, and this track has continued to this day. He’s becoming his own character, which distresses me greatly as a fan of both the Pythons and the sitcom he created. In hindsight, it’s no wonder (minus people not having knowledge of the series) that interactions with Basil dropped off.

It’s all a bit disheartening, the stuff with John, to say the least. But in the least political way possible, because I refuse to get involved with politics, I could not give less of a shit about John’s opinions and stupidness and what he chooses to say or not say in his old age. The fact of the matter is, I’m a fan of his comedy work and his comedy work only, and to me no controversy can take away how brilliant his Python and Towers work is. And me writing my interpretation of his most entertaining character is my way of celebrating that work. Rping is supposed to be a fun hobby that involves writing characters you love, free of politics. Basil, for me, is just an example of that, nothing more and nothing less.

So, he’ll be my first male muse on this blog, coming sooner than later, followed by more well-known ones that aren’t as controversial for sure 😂 but I don’t want to abandon Basil. You don’t have to interact with him if he’s not your cup of tea, but don’t judge me based on whatever he may say or do-even if I am toning him down where it matters. If ever there was a place for a “mun does not equal the muse” disclaimer, this is it.

I’ll probably link to this post in my muse bio for him, too. Just felt like all of this needed to be said prior to his reintroduction so no one gets any weird ideas. Thank you all for listening.

[narutocharacterpolls]

Poll runner, I just want you to know that you're a gem. Sasuke haters will do what they do, so I'd recommend just ignoring them at this point - it's to be expected in this fandom anyways. Those of us who appreciate him are all having a ton of fun and holy shit we stay winning on the multiple, adorable fanworks this poll has inspired! Literally only your beloved Yahiko can rival that feat :)

Sasuke means so much to those of us who hold him dear and nothing can take that away (the propaganda list for him alone highlights this). If the haters get a kick out of making a tired meme, then that's their prerogative. What can you do? And by the way, just so it's said, I hope the actual Tenten fans have not been discouraged by their behavior either. You guys deserve to love your fave without all the mockery.

Just hope you're doing alright and still having fun with this. I hope it isn't getting too out of hand and I'm sorry things have gone in this direction. We appreciate all the work you've put into this!

ANON YOU’RE SO SWEET THANK YOU ❤️ I am doing my best to ignore it all, but I’m sure you can understand how hard that is for me especially. You’re right, we have gotten some AMAZINGGGG work today from so many lovely artists and writers (THANK YOU TO ALL THE ARTISTS WRITERS!!!!) and I’m really truly honoured to be a hub for inspiring so many people to create. Many have said that they haven’t done so in a while too, which makes it even sweeter! (And once again thank you to all the Yahiko artists too… I will NEVER forget that and it’s a very special memory to me.)

Very true, us Sasuke lovers will always still hold him just as dearly in our hearts, and we know how wonderful and special of a character he is. I know multiple people earlier on pointed out just how much seeing all the love in his propaganda meant to them, so if we do end up losing keep that close to your heart! I hope that the Tenten lovers won’t take any negativity there has been too roughly either!

It’s a lot to take right now just because my notifs and inbox are getting flooding with some less than pleasant things right now, but messages like this truly make it worth it! I appreciate you anon! This honestly made me feel a bit better :)

[charmingbrute]

ok you win, Ignore the last one pls, do [ LOVE ] for ares instead >:3c

[ LOVE ]:     the writer begins the first of a series of love letters to the recipient.

Beloved Hythlodaeus,

How goes the life of the Bureau of the Architect's Chief? Engaging, I hope. You have been in my thoughts, for all the good it has done me since I have left. To my surprise, I cannot help but worry about your well-being. You've been direly missed and I truthfully wish I could be there with you as we were before.

Not to take away to the root of the matter. I must mention that I am alarmingly concerned about your habits and routines of late. Allow me to ask, have you been taking care of yourself properly? Are you eating well and getting sufficient rest? It's effortless to get caught up in work and our responsibilities. Likewise, there is also value in prioritizing your health and peace.

I'm here, far as I am at present. I shall support you amidst the distance and help you in any way possible for myself. I desire for you to be at your absolute best and nothing less. If it's within my power, it will be done. So, take this as a firm reminder to look after yourself. No, it is not a request. When I return, I will know if you have not done so.

Your laugh in my mind ever comforts me, Ares

-

One and Only Hythlodaeus,

It has been some time since my last letter. You'll have to forgive me as I haven't been able to conjure them in regular intervals due to my presence being in so demand. Believe you me, it is not a boast. I am honestly finding it troublesome. Still, your dearly occupied Ares has found a moment to tell you that you still mean a lot to me. Always in my mind do you wander tirelessly with your silly, little feet.

Yesterday, as I was familiarizing myself through a field so distant from home, I came across a beautiful flower. It was a perfect example of grace and beauty, and who else would it remind me of but you? Just like this aforementioned flower, you bring brightness and color to my life. You are a fine breath of fresh air in a world that can sometimes be dull, painful to live through and monotone.

The way the sun shone upon this precious flower was akin to your smile lighting up a room. Your laughter like the soft rustling of leaves, and your gentle touches alike the gentle breeze which caressed the petals. A symbol of hope, joy, and love amidst this barren place. You are this flower upon the field.

You must always know that you are loved and appreciated by me. The happiness and beauty you naturally bring into my life is to not be underestimated, and I cannot be aught but grateful for it. You know me. I do not believe in such a thing as luck, but if I were a lucky man, your being mine is the testatement to it. We shall see each other again, you and I.

Sleep early and be not like me, Ares

-

Hythlodaeus,

What is this that I hear that you've been overexhausting yourself in the many days that have passed? I understand very well that you are wholly driven and dedicated to your work, but what did I say in my prior letter about self-care being just as valuable? Your health and well-being. Top prioty or someone will pay for this carelessness of yours.

I cannot express how angry and frustrated I am for your sake. Do not giggle, I know you are making that face right now as you read this and find humor in my scolding. You deserve to have a proper balance between life and work, and to be treated with the utmost respect and dignity. I am aware that you've been putting in long bells and sacrificing your own needs for the sake of the Star. It is not worth it. Listen to me for once. Whatsoever happened to you doing the scolding between us? Must you give me further reasons to abandon my station to teach you a lesson?

I am here for you and I will always support your every decision. However, you cannot expect yourself to reastically do this by your lonesome. Write more letters to me if you must. I ought to help you in any way I am able, whether it is just being a listening or venting ear, or offering to help with your own frustrations. So take a mindful step back and focus on yourself for a change. There'll be none that can blame you. If they do, direct them to me. I have faith in your strength, capabilities and intelligence, but really now? You are making me think of you the more foolish man between us.

Do not make me come home earlier than I must, Ares

-

Sourface Hythlodaeus,

Take that frown off of your handsome face, will you? I've just returned, yet you already appear more tired of me than your responsibilities. I simply wanted to take a moment to speak about our recent conversation pertaining to the shark concepts. I understand that you are exhausted of hearing about them, but I cannot help it, I find them most fascinating!

You might not understand this curiosity of mine with these magnificent creatures, but they have always been a source of inspiration and wonder for me ever since you spoke of the many concepts your colleagues have fashioned. Their strength, agility, variety and intelligence are truly remarkable. It is a gift to this Star!

You're not fond of them, this I know. Still, I would most love for you to give them another chance. Mayhaps we can go to the Words of Mitron and have a closer look of these amazing creations. In time, you'll come to accept their potential and find them as fascinating as we all do. I ask more of your patience and understanding in this matter. I can be a touch enthusiastic about my own interests. Fear not, I promise to respect your feelings and opinions if it truly cannot be changed. I want us to share and partake in each other's interests, not merely tolerate them, different they may be.

You are my beloved and closest friend, Ares

-

'Old Friend' Hythlodaeus

In spite of our time together, you still call me that. So, allow me reciprocate. How goes my old friend? This old friend of yours wanted to take a moment to reflect on our first kiss. Do you recall that day? It was a bright afternoon, and we were sitting on a bench in Amaurot, as old friends are wont to do. The lights were blinding, and the birds were singing, but all I could focus on was you.

As I looked into your most gorgeous eyes, I knew that our lips had to meet. I leaned in, and we have kissed in the most perfect and gentle way ever possible. Such a moment is difficult to forget. If you have, I'll recreate that moment to remind you, for it is the moment wherein I have come to accept that you have stolen my heart. Dirty, little thief, you.

Each time I reminisce about it, I am overwhelmed by the happiness and love that sits within me. You make me want to sing, and every noise in the background becomes a melody dedicated to you. So, how about we make more memories like that, old friend? Our hands clasped together, your skin on mine, and tell me again how I'm your dearest old friend? No, I am not pouting. I find this habit of yours charming in a way.

Your old friend forevermore, Ares

[why-am-i-here-someone-save-me]

Home

Time for some ✨Xiao propaganda✨ in the name of my dearly beloved mutual; @nicebonescomrade. I promised you a celebratory Xiao fic for when you bring him home, and I have come to deliver early because I am that confident that you will bring him home on his next rerun! 😤

The first time his constellation lit up the night skies of Liyue, he allowed the seed of hope in his heart to take root. It was a feeling that he hadn’t allowed himself to indulge in for a long time. Each falling star filled him with more anticipation than the last.

But then his constellation had left the skies, replaced with another, and your call hadn’t come.

The second time his stars had appeared, he was less ready to let his hopes rise. And yet again, his stars passed without hearing your voice. His hopes had been smaller still the third time that his constellation lit up the skies, and just as those before it, it passed uneventfully.

The fourth time, he did not allow himself to grow hopeful. Surely there was a reason you had not called for him prior. He must have displeased you. That must be why your presence had not graced him. He was selfish to think that perhaps you would forgive him for what he must have done.

No, he was unworthy of your presence. He did not deserve to be one of your vessels. No matter how many times his stars appeared in the skies, he accepted that your call was not coming.

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

He had been on the balcony of the inn when it began. At first he couldn’t believe it. There had been only a handful of shooting stars throughout the last months of Teyvat. Yet as he stared in shock, star after star filled the night sky.

The world was lit by a swirl of blue and purple light as dozens of the falling stars streaked through the sky.

He nearly jumped in surprise when he saw a flash of gold.

There in the skies that were so bursting with colors, a golden light danced among the heavens.

The adeptus watched it in silent amazement, transfixed by the star. He was so awed by its light that he almost failed to notice that it was growing closer. It slowed as it reached him, and time seemed to freeze. His fingers brushed against the object in the center of the golden light, and a feeling of warmth rushed over him.

“Oh my gosh!!! Yes! Finally! He’s home! Welcome home Xiao! I’m so excited to finally see you show up! I knew the weeks grinding primogems was worth it. This is so great! I’m so glad your home Xiao!”

Adeptus Xiao was an expert at masking his emotions, wether with a physical mask or a mask of indifference, he hid his thoughts well. However, that night a few patrons confusedly told Verr that they had heard the sound of someone crying on the balcony. The woman had simply smiled and reassured them there was nothing to worry about. If anyone had inquired him about it directly, Xiao would have vehemently denied any theories that he had cried that night. Those who knew the boy adeptus though, well, they just may have noticed the faint red color dusting Xiao’s face.

How could he not have wept when your call finally came? He had expected to never hear it, yet you had wanted him. You had wanted his presence. He was more than willing to give it to you wholly.

Xiao had memories he treasured. The day that Rex Lapis had saved him, the happy times he spent with his fellow Yaksha, the day when he had met the Traveler, the day when he had felt your presence for the first time, they were all memories his held dear.

But the memory he held closest of all was of the night where you had finally become so clear to him, where the whispers in the wind that spoke your words became crystal clear, where your warm presence had fully wrapped around him, easing the weight of his karma.

His most treasured memory was of the night that you brought him home.

[dear-yandere]

like lovers do.

yandere! various x gn! reader. intimacy headcanons, mostly sfw. characters: diluc, kaeya, albedo, venti, xiao, scaramouche, zhongli, tartaglia. disclaimer: these are not healthy relationships.

a/n: huge thanks to my friend syl for brainstorming with me!

art is credited below the images. please follow and support the artists!

( and in his eyes, was chaos and beauty intertwined )

diluc ragnvindr

art credit: piscesver24 (twitter)

simple and sweet, the kind of kiss that takes your breath away. his gloved hands rest atop your waist, never once unsurprised by how frail and weak you are. in his hands, you are breakable. you are someone deserving of his protection and of his affection, and his touch alone—he hopes—is enough to convey what words cannot. he kisses you when no one is looking, but his lips never linger on yours, not for long—not where anyone can turn and see. you may be under his protection, but master diluc prefers to keep that information under wraps, eternally afraid he will lose you too.

when he hugs you, you don’t believe you’ll ever fall. you are wrapped in chains disguised as limbs and silk, and, you never wish to part from it. he holds you, and he expects you to be gone when he pulls away, because that is all he’s ever known. and in that fear, his arms will squeeze. he wants to hold you and let go. he’s afraid. he’s deathly afraid that if he does, the ground will part beneath your feet and swallow you whole. he’s afraid that if he does, you’ll fall apart in his hands and he will be left with nothing but ash. and in his fear, he holds you as if he’s convinced that you need to be held together and not him.

diluc lets his presence be known.

the moment he steps onto the threshold of your balcony, your arms are wrapped around his neck, succumbed by the desire to be as close to him as humanly possible. he stiffens, because love is something unaccustomed to him, and fights the urge to tear you away. he doesn’t want to hurt you, taint you. ash and dust stain the furs of his coat and he fears the carnage sully your skin.

you are pristine—you are everything he is not. he wants to keep it that way.

your nightgown is modest, blowing behind you in the winds that grace the city he loves so dearly. he’ll reach out, and in these fleeting and nightly moments, his hands are never bare when they brush against yours. the leather hides his skin and his scars, and you recall the bliss you felt when he touched you in your bedchambers only nights ago. the shell of his index would trail along your forearm, gentle and hot and never daring to venture further.

you just want him to touch you the way lovers do.

“did i keep you waiting?” diluc broaches the topic carefully, knowing that his tardiness has become a nightly occurrence as of late. he sighs, mindlessly rubbing circles atop your hand. “my apologies, my beloved... i was caught up with affairs at the winery, but every second we were apart, i missed you dearly... will you allow me to make it up to you?”

kaeya alberich

art credit: keyade (tumblr)

seductive and secretive, the kind of kiss that leaves you wanting more. his lips are silver and his tongue is forked; he makes no efforts to hide his agenda, one hand already set upon the swell of your thigh. his fingers weave through locks of your hair, tugging them with a profound amusement when your lips seek his too readily. you look best when your eyes are glazed and your mind is numb. clouds settle over the light in your eyes, and your head feels like it’s set upon clouds; the way you’re looking at him now, he’s certain you’re in too deep to get out.

when he hugs you, you wonder why it feels so lonely. his love is passionless and you are enamored, curious like a cat. he holds you as if you’re a figment of his imagination, as if he’s not entirely there. and soon, your legs are wrapped around his waist, begging for a release only he can provide. because your relationship is just that—nothing more, nothing less. you’ll lay in his arms and he’ll leave when you let go, and you’ll wonder why you let him have his way if it always ends like this.

kaeya is well acquainted with your body.

he doesn’t have to touch you with lewd implications in mind just to get a rise out of you. even when his hands don’t wander across places he knows will earn him a slap and a scolding, he’s witting of which buttons to press just to make you melt. 

you’re fond of the intimacy of it all, something he finds amusing given you’re seeking it from him of all people; he’s not exactly known for being committed. but your breaths will catch in your throat and you’ll flush all the same, because sir kaeya alberich is pressed against you the way lovers do. when he presses lascivious kisses against the swell of your cheeks, or nibbles against the shell of your ear, they’ll flush with heat, as if this is the first time you’ve been held by a paramour.

you drink it right up. it’s only fair he does the same in return.

“did you think i’m satisfied with just that?” kaeya chuckles blithely. his hands settle beneath your ass and hoist you up, having received the message in all its clarity. to think you are so immodest behind closed doors, and its all just for him? that won’t do... if you jump into his arms so readily like this, who knows what you do with other partners? “darling, i see you’re still so naive... come now, i’ve got all night to discipline you...”   

albedo

art credit: avy ciocco (pixiv)

curious and clandestine, the kind of kiss that makes your heart ache. it’s clinical, the way his lips feel against yours. his movements are awkward and he hasn’t the faintest clue how people truly enjoy this activity. your lips feel foreign against his, but he knows that they belong there and he knows that it feels good. to have you in his arms, to call you his. when your lips are against his, he doesn’t feel the excitement humans do; he feels complete, as if the pieces of the puzzle he’s observed to be ‘life’ have finally fallen together. when he kisses you, he doesn’t want to let go.

when he hugs you, you fear he doesn’t think of it the way you do. because he does not love, not in the way you’d like. he does not love, and you do. he does not love, because he obsesses. even if death arrives at your door before, he’ll keep you in his arms until he’s satisfied. his curiosity is infinite, but you are finite; you are here in his arms and you are hopelessly enamored with him. he doesn’t love you—you know this much—but you’ll melt in his arms, in these moments. neither of you want to let go, and it’s for entirely different reasons. 

albedo knows all there is to know of you.

he knows of your habits and your faults. how you sniffle whenever you lie and how you can never keep a secret. how you hold a sorrow so deep he fears he could fall into its abyss. and a part of him wants to walk over that very edge, because he is endlessly curious of its depths and its caverns. what has you so sorrowful when you look his way? what makes your eyes brim with tears, and what is it about that sight that makes his heart squeeze in his chest?

he wants to know more.

he will die before he knows all there is to know of you, and yet he still can’t get enough. such a curious thing this infatuation is. how is it that he can understand you in and out and still never once tire of your presence? how is it that there’s always something new to uncover, always something new to capture his interest? how is it that when you’re not around, he feels incomplete?

how is it that he yearns to be whole again?

“[name].“ he calls, setting the sketchbook against crossed legs. you look up, giddy that he so much as spoke your name, and he feels his lips threaten to twitch into a smile. why is that, he wonders? what is this feeling, and why has he never felt it even once before? the pencil between his fingers nearly snaps. “let’s take a small break. i have to get back to my research sooner rather than later, but i quite enjoyed this drawing session. you are always a pleasure to study, i fear i will never get enough... but you don’t mind, do you?”

venti

art credit: 千灵在摸鱼 (pixiv)

airy and guileless, the kind of kiss that makes your heart soar. his touch is  featherweight; in the back of your mind, you swear his lips are soft, but you can hardly remember a time they’ve ever fully met yours. he hovers a kiss above your lips and never once sets it atop—he fears what it’ll mean. you can’t be with him, because he is eternal and you are not. so his lips will dance across yours but never quite meet, a perpetual dance of longing between a god and a human. 

when he hugs you, you wonder if he’ll leave you too. his arms are locked around your waist like the bars of a cage, but you feel nothing but air. his touch is fleeting just as he is, the brief press of his body against yours hidden beneath a playful guise. you’ll call his name and try to pull him closer, yearning for more, and he’ll be gone with the wind. with his presence, the wind has become both a pleasure and an anguish. because he never holds you for long, not unless he wants to stay and never leave again. 

venti knows he shouldn’t grow attached.

attachment breeds calamity, and life is fated to end in tragedy. venti has come to learn that, everything in this life has purpose and meaning. he was birthed to become the anemo archon, and you were birthed to live in an era of peace. you will never know of the atrocities he’s witnessed, and he prefers to keep it that way.

he was created to be live and never die. you were created to live and let die.

he knows you’re not meant to be his, because gods are not made to love and humans are not made to live forever. he knows that love shouldn’t burn, but he hopes its flames will be swept by a wind even he cannot control; and one day, you’ll forget who he is. and one day, he’ll forget who you are. because it’s better that way.

because he can’t love you, and you can’t love him. not in the way he wants you to.

“go forth, my muse.” venti’s voice is low and his laugh is somber. you want to beg him to stay, to not send you away, but he disappears from your touch once again, as if you were hugging the air itself. “go forth and adventure—adventure far, far away, past the borders of mondstadt. adventure so far you forget about me, and adventure until you feel truly free.“

xiao

art credit: lounette (pixiv)

longing and forbidden, the kind of kiss that tears your heart in two. he is familiar with the conflict boiling beneath his skin, but his tendons and blood and bones will scream for you all the same. your lips feel right against his. you, feel right against him. he doesn’t want to let go. not physically, not mentally, not...ever. you don’t belong with him, but by all the archons, he wishes you did. because although his kisses are inhuman and he was not born to love or be loved to begin with, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. and he feels you beginning to love him, and he doesn’t want to let go. he’s scared that if he does, he’ll never be himself again.

when he hugs you, you’re scared he’ll fall apart. he has one foot over the edge, as if death is something of an old friend to him. he doesn’t mind, the way its skeletal hands peer up and grasp at his ankles—because he cannot fall. he cannot die. death is a fate too good for him, and it shows. it shows when his arms tighten around your hips, briefly, before he pushes you away. it shows when his nose buries itself in your hair, and when his eyes fall to a close. it shows, because he is at peace for a few moments. it shows, because holding you is the closest he’ll get to redemption.

and xiao thinks, ‘by all the archons are you lovely’.

he doesn’t want to fall apart again, but he feels the pieces crack and shatter beneath his feet—and he’s falling. everything is rushing past his eyes so fast and he can’t get a grip, because his legs are lead and his arms are frozen and nothing makes sense anymore. he’s falling, again—as he always does—but this time will hurt more than all the rest. because he’s fallen in love. and love hurts. love burdens, and it wears and it tears on the hearts of many. love breeds empathy, and he has no use for empathy. of all the homes he’s destroyed and of all the families he’s torn apart, he cannot afford empathy.

because he is a demon, and demons cannot love.

he knows, that of all the moons he’s seen, you are the brightest. and, that of all the suns he’s felt, you’ll burn the harshest.

“go. now!” xiao cries and pushes you away, finding the feel of your skin against his repulsive. you stumble and fall, but he doesn’t save you; not this time. and you fear it will stay that way. “don’t look back, and don’t seek me out. run, run as far as you can and don’t ever come back!” he all but sobs, and for the first time in years, he feels the urge to cry. “please, i don’t want to hurt you anymore...”

scaramouche

art credit: hhaeyeun (twitter)

harsh and expectant, the kind of kiss that leaves you bloody and bruised. when he kisses you, you swear you’re being eaten alive. its in the way he cups the back of your head—first, lovingly—before grasping a fistful of hair as if its a leash. its in the way his lips meet yours, demanding the same reciprocity, demanding the same feeling; he wants you to feel disgusted. disgusted at and with him, disgusted at and with yourself. you’re kissing him and he’s convinced you like it, because that’s you know how to do: be a good pet, and a good whore.

when he hugs you, you’re scared he’ll never let go. you want to tear his arms off your skin; you want to run away. he doesn’t belong there, doesn’t belong on you—he doesn't belong in your life and he’s forced himself fit. his touch isn’t gentle, and he doesn’t mean it to be. because when he touches you, he holds you like he’ll kill you. when he touches you, electro makes it home along the pores of your skin, and you recall that he holds you like death holds life. when he holds you, you’re convinced you’ll die in his arms and he’ll laugh as you rot.

scaramouche is hard to read.

he doesn’t want to be read; he wants to be recited and to be learned, to be revered and to be worshipped. and above all else, he wants to be understood, and that isn’t something that cannot be accomplished by looking upon his surface and pretending you know all there is to know. who he truly is, is not written on his face or on his skin, nor in his blood or on his bones. because even he doesn’t know, and even he doesn’t understand.

who is he? who is the man staring back at him from the mirror?

his smile is wider than normal; it reaches his eyes and pulls at his skin, and he no longer understands who he is or how he got there.

but he understands you.

and in those rare, unending, confusing moments—where the scaramouche you knew is gone for a brief moment, and a completely new man emerges before you—you feel lost. he cradles you in his arms and whispers silent pleads for forgiveness and validation into your ear, and you choke on the words. when he holds you like this, like you’re the only thing keeping him from snapping, you wonder how much longer you can take.

everyone has their limits, and his is thin.

“i’m sorry i hurt you. my anger gets the best of me these days...” he traces the fresh wound on your arm, the skin sweltering from his earlier electro shocks. you try not to wince, but he presses down on the highest point of your newest scab. “look at me, my pet. tell me it’s alright. tell me you forgive me, or i... i don’t know where else i may harm..”

zhongli

art credit: treetree233 (pixiv)

passionate and loving, the kind of kiss provided only by a lover. it’s gentle, the way his lips melt into yours. he holds you like you’re the most valuable thing he’s ever held—you are something—someone—that doesn’t exist anywhere else. there is only one of you, just as there is only one of him. the only difference is you can die. so he kisses you like it’s the first, and last, kiss he’ll ever have. he kisses you like he can love no one more, like he will love no one more even after you’re gone.

when he hugs you, you feel the weight of six thousand years. his head will rest in the space between your shoulder and neck, and he can’t cry. the tears won’t come, because gods can’t cry. not when guizhong died, and not even when you will someday die too. and all you can do is pull him close, hoping that his heart will one day beat and that his tears will someday fall. you both tear at the seams, and you wonder if love is supposed to hurt this much.

zhongli wants to fall apart.

he wants to break apart into smaller and smaller pieces until all that’s left is nothing but dust. because it shouldn’t have been her that died. he shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be alive. because if he wasn’t, you wouldn’t be in his arms, neither dead nor alive—just like him. you wouldn’t be in his arms, a demigod in all their right and against all their wills. you wouldn’t be here, because he wouldn’t exist.

you would be free.

and you’ll stand there at a crossroads, conflict entrenched on either path. how do you comfort a being who’s seen nations rise and fall? how do you comfort a deity who’s wrought death and destruction in the name of unity and order? how do you comfort a god when all you are is human?

you don’t. you can’t, because you can never hope to understand his pain. you’re caught between a rock and a hard place and you wonder when it will crush you too.

“this is the final contract we shall share.” zhongli’s voice is penetrating, knocking you to your senses. you pull away from his embrace to take in the sorrowful sight before you: a god with all the burdens of the world, a god who cannot cry. he still finds it within himself to smile and say, “please...i ask that you find it in your heart to forgive me for what i have done to you. and, for what i may someday do...“

tartaglia (childe)

art credit: di-dash (pixiv)

playful and guileless, the kind of kiss that disappears in a moment. the press of his lips against yours is gone long before you can register it. he pulls away before you’re aware of his presence at all, and he’ll laugh that laugh that makes your heart skip a beat. an arm slings around your shoulders and he pretends he isn’t the wiser to it, but the effect he has on you is written all over your face. on your eyelashes, on your cheeks, and in your eyes themselves. he looks at them once and he’s tempted, then, to kiss you again, but temptation does little for him. because on your lips, the taste of peppermint and frost takes refuge, a reminder that he was ever there at all; he wants to keep it that way.

when he hugs you, you’re scared he’ll feel your heart against his chest. he squeezes you tightly at first before his arms fall to rest atop the slope of your hips. his hum is playful, as if he knows something you don’t, as he rubs circles into your thin robe. you feel him atop your skin and inside your veins; you wonder when it is he’ll crawl inside your head and take refuge, for once. because then he wouldn’t leave you again. because then your heart wouldn’t ache for his return. because then, you wouldn’t wish he were as lovesick as you.

tartaglia knows his memories are a taboo.

because when he thinks of you, more than he’d like, he is forced to recall a past he hardly remembers. snow and frostbite had settled into his bones long before that abyssal darkness had, but he finds it peculiar. that when you’re near, the permafrost begins to melt. imperceptible, at first. its waters will warm, will find its way into the holes of his heart, and he will find himself drowning again.

he wonders if death feels different the second time.

and when he returns from a land you’ll never see, your eyes will gleam. all you see is him, and all he is forced to see is you. the look in your eyes—it’s different from how his opponents sneer at him, their eyes twinkling with malice or fear. it’s different from how his accomplices look at him, their eyes wide with awe or agenda. because when you look at him like that, he wonders when you’ll snap. he wonders when you’ll break apart like shards of ice, and he wonders who it will hurt more; you, or him. he wants to see it for himself—with his own two eyes—and he wants to ruin it before yours.

“ah, how time flies! it’s already gotten this late.” his voice is detached, and in it, you find meaning in his words. he’s leaving again. never once does he tell you explicitly, because never once do you expect him to stay. it hurts all the same. “duty calls, sugar. you’ll wait for me again, won’t you?” he lifts your chin. “haha, who am i kidding—course you will. you always do.”

dear-yandere, all rights reserved.

[nire-the-mithridatist]

do the entire ao3 wrapped i wanna see everything !!!

...fine, since you asked and because I love you. I'm putting it under the cut tho.

How many words have you written this year? more or less 75k. ao3 counts the whole fic word count even though only a few chapters are from this year, so i'm approximating from how much of the priest!fic i wrote this year on lesserfeelings + all my fresh stuff on nire.

How many works did you publish this year? new ones? 12 individual works and 5 ficlets in my vincenzo ficlet collection.

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)? i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) is my darling, my beloved, my blood sweat and tears. i rewrote about one-thirds of it from present tense to past tense. i spent hours ruminating whether i would split it into five acts or just lump it all up (i did split it, but it remains a oneshot). it's not my most popular fic by far but i am most proud of it.

What work of yours has the most hits? that would be a map of every blade at currently 14,549 hits.

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? answered here. (it's my twiyor fuck or die)

Favorite title you used answered here. (also the fuck or die fic)

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most? rather than song lyrics, i used quotes from the poem underbelly by nicole homer for the title of two fics (and all the chapters in one of those two).

Pairing you wrote the most for this year? twilight (loid forger) and yor forger. gotta love me a pair of canonical fake marrieds with secret identities.

Favorite pairing you wrote for this year? same answer as above!

What work was the quickest to write? answered here.

What work took you the longest to write? finishing the vincenzo priest!fic took me more than half a year, so. definitely that one.

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year? just the one that i know for sure. wait, maybe two. idk.

What’s your longest work of the year? priest!fic was 24k, but about 40% of it was from last year. so... it would be a map of every blade at around 15k.

What’s your shortest work of the year? come (my half of our cy/mh duology) is at 383 words!

What WIP are you taking into next year with you? my sxf pacific rim au.

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag? not beta read. heheheh

Your favorite character to write this year? answered here. (it's loid forger)

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? yuri forger, because i don't... really... like him... and it's hard to write him in a way that fits the tone of my fics and not caricature-ish.

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year? definitely staying with twiyor! i love me my fake married blorbos

Which work of yours have you reread the most? i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) like just during editing alone... it's also super self-indulgent so... yeah

How many kudos in total did you get this year? UMMMMM. gonna approximate again because some of these kudos i got last year, but ao3 counts them as this year because i finished the fic this year. around 5,700, i think. 5,258 i got on nire and approximately 400-500 on lesserfeelings.

Which work has the most comments? priest!fic, but since part of that was last year, a map of every blade at 145 comment threads.

Did you do any collaborative works this year? yeah fam! you and i wrote a twofer earlier this year!

Did you write any gifts this year? yes but i haven't posted it!

Did you receive any gifts this year? yup! and i treasure them dearly <3

What’s your most common category? F/M.

What do you listen to while writing? answered here. (nothing, except when i need music)

Favorite work you wrote this year? there's one fic i have yet to post because it's for an event, and also: i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) for the same reasons as answer #3, also it's just super-indulgent to my niche interests.

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? from i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart):

In the end, they decided on a plain ring for Vincenzo to wear on his finger and a delicate band with diamonds all around (“It’s called an eternity band,” Cha Young said, breathless even as a voice in his head) for her to wear on a chain around his neck. The size of the second ring didn’t really matter, but he bought one that she could’ve worn anyway. It was so small. Her hands had been so delicate, and—just like that, with that one small recollection—he mourned her all over again.

“You really should stop doing that,” she said. “It feels like… like rain inside the house.”

Sorry, he thought rather than said. They were still at the store, hence the indoor voice; he was holding the diamond-paved ring for her inspection. It’s just that I would’ve married you.

“We’re living together and you bought us rings. What else would you call that, if not marriage?”

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year? answered here and here!

ao3 wrapped asks

[aminiatureworld]

Shadowed Rationale

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,597

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Some things aren’t terribly rational. And some responses are even less so. But what other option is there? Revealing yourself can be a terribly embarrassing thing, isn’t it better to hide it?

In which the reader is afraid of the dark.

Author’s Note: I’ve decided to write based off my own prompt every two weeks. Mostly because I realized I can no longer think of ideas, and also cause I’m a bit writer’s blocked and I’d feel bad writing requests right now. This premise is pretty cheesy, but sometimes simple starting points are the best to build upon! Besides it was a really a chance to work on my atmosphere, sometimes putting an image in your mind on paper is quite difficult, especially when it comes with an unsettling sort of mood.

All the characters I chose are characters I saw at least some point in the 1.4 teaser stream (Kaeya, Xiao, and Zhongli are tomorrow). I’m so excited! Although I have to apologize to Venti, sorry I have no idea how to write you so I chose not to.

I realize I idealize some of these characters (ie: Childe) quite a bit. I hope that they still keep their individuality, that they still stay in character. That being said I’m quite happy with how this turned out to be, so I hope you like it.

Albedo

It’s not that you didn’t trust Albedo. Indeed Albedo sometimes felt like the only person in the world you could trust.

It was simply that, though you two had been in a relationship for the past four months or so, you still wanted to impress him in some way. Or at least not seem like a total idiot. And to you the most idiotic thing you could think of was your fear of the dark.

It wasn’t that it was a totally irrational fear, of course humans were afraid of the dark, how else could they have survived this long? It was more that the fear felt irrational now. And besides, you had a vision. Your partner had a vision. You two were more than equipped for anything that might be lurking in the shadows. Besides it’s not as if your fear had a tangible image in your mind. It was more like a cloud, a miasma, which filled you with anxiety.

You knew you should tell him, knew he’d be nothing less than a perfect gentleman about the matter. But your pride was too great, or perhaps it was your embarrassment. Either you said nothing. And here you were now, in Wolvendom, in the middle of the night, desperately trying not to jump at every shadow you passed.

Albedo wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to your nervous disposition; once he’d found something to experiment with he developed the slightly unhelpful habit of blocking the rest of the world out completely. Not that that was terrible for you in current circumstances. Maybe you’d make it out of here with your dignity intact.

That optimism however was drowned out by the oppressive anxiety you felt. Though Albedo had assured you that his connections had managed to get Razor’s promise that no wolves would bother the two of you it was still difficult to contain the shiver up your spine every time you heard their distant howling. The landscape didn’t help, comprised of sharp drops and trees which seemed as if they’d never been alive in the first place. The long cavern in which you two walked seemed too vulnerable, too low to the ground with no way to protect yourself either from behind or above. The valleys were crawling with hilichurls, and you’d occasionally see the silhouette of a wolf or two. You could make out the old Monstadt as well, if you gazed westward, and the solitary, crumbling turret cut an eerie figure against the inky sky.

As Albedo studied the lamp grass that was the reason for your expedition – as he’d developed a curiosity in regards to their luminescence, how it was created and how it might be extracted and experimented upon – you looked around you. Though there was nothing in sight to be afraid of you still found yourself going to draw your weapon, though you were loath to actually do so, not wanting to look silly. After all, only a fool would attack the dark.

Luck, however, wasn’t on your side. You seemed to be spotting a figure, appearing at the other side of the valley in which you’d found yourselves in, walking straight towards you. You blinked rapidly, brain desperately trying to choose between whether or not it was a figment of your imagination. Surely it must be? What sort of cloaked figure would be wandering around in the dark? And yet the other half of your mind whispered that it must be something, something or someone, and that something or someone was fast approaching you. Was it? Or were you just imagining it? You truly couldn’t decide. Another howl echoed on the wind. Your senses were becoming too overwhelmed, too confused. Oh why were you there? Why oh why oh why?

You backed up slightly, brain now determined to see the shadow on the horizon as a human. Your hand clutched your weapon and you tried to remember if there was something, anything behind you. A ridge perhaps, so you might not have to worry about what was behind you, might be able in some ways to ground yourself.

Unfortunately luck wasn’t on your side, and instead of finding some point of security you found yourself tripping over your partner.

“Shit.” Albedo let out a curse as you fell backwards, hitting the ground with a loud thud. “My love are you alright?”

You said nothing, instead glancing back towards the other end of the valley. The figure seemed much skinnier from the ground, and for a moment you felt your brain cloud over in confusion. Then, as if all of a sudden your mind had put the pieces together, you felt a rush of relief, swiftly followed by embarrassment. A trunk. It was a tree trunk. Covering your face with your hands you groaned.

“Beloved?” Albedo asked once again. You looked up at him, a feeling of sheepishness and fondness washing over you as you saw the worried expression on his face.

“It’s nothing Albedo, I’m perfectly fine. It’s just… ah,” you let out a sigh, steeling yourself for the interaction you’d specifically hoped wouldn’t happen, “I’m, I’m afraid of the dark. My eyes were playing tricks on me just now, I thought I saw someone walking towards us. But it was just a tree.” You let out an embarrassed sort of sound, once more burying your face in your hands. Damn it. Now what were you going to do?

The feeling of fabric around your shoulders was a surprising one, and you quickly looked up. Albedo was crouching down beside you, having wrapped his coat around you. There was no sense of shame or embarrassment in his eyes, only love and a sense of caring.

“You should’ve told me.” He said, voice soft and warm. “I’m sorry I brought you along when it makes you so uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry I’m being such a pain,” you replied, “it’s such a stupid fear of mine. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I felt like, like you’d think I was being irrational. Like I was being silly.”

“There’s nothing irrational about being afraid of the dark my love. It can be frightening after all, not being able to use all your senses to their full capacity. And even if it were an irrational fear, I wouldn’t look down on you for it. Alchemists, those who study the world, they cannot expect to always interact with what is perfect, what is always rational or what always makes sense. Neither are they infallible themselves. Besides,” he continued, brushing your hair out of your face, “I’d rather you be cautious over nothing than see you hurt.”

You found yourself unable to say anything, overcome by his words. It wasn’t that he’d said anything you hadn’t told yourself, you knew after all that being afraid of the dark wasn’t without a purpose, that it wasn’t utterly irrational in itself. But it felt different when Albedo said it. When you said it there was always your anxiety to counter it, when Albedo said it you accepted it as true. For it was Albedo who said it, and he’d never lie to you.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, hugging the coat closer around you, happy to be enveloped in something so familiar and comforting.

“Of course,” Albedo smiled, kissing you on your forehead, “I love you. So very dearly.”

The rest of the night you kept his coat wrapped around you. Although Albedo had quickly reverted to his informative sort of state he hadn’t forgotten what had passed, and every once in a while he’d give you a quick hug, or squeeze your hand in reassurance.

Overall it wasn’t such a terrible night.

  Childe

There was no hiding your fears from Childe.

The man was the nosiest – or perhaps most observant – person you’d ever met, and he’d quickly put two and two together as soon as you’d started living together.

Unfortunately for you Childe also had the kind of work schedule that would make a surgeon’s job feel envious. And a part of that schedule entailed you staying up at all hours of the night, trying desperately not to jump at every sound.

You knew that it was going to be one of those nights, and as of such you’d decided to take a nap in the afternoon, so the lack of sleep wouldn’t weigh on you too much. The afternoon sun had been strong, and though you’d decided not to close the curtains you also didn’t bother to keep any of the lights on. After all it wasn’t supposed to be more than an hour long nap or so, and keeping the lights on felt like a bit of waste.

Your regret came the moment you opened your eyes to the pitch black of your room.

How did something change so drastically from daytime to nighttime? All the familiar figures around you seemed to have disappeared, or perhaps it was more accurate to say they’d been transformed. Now even your closet door seemed to have taken on a life of its own, wriggling within its frame as if possessed. The unobstructed window cut harsh lines along your floor, but it was a cloudy sort of night, and every once in a while even the moon would be snuffed out, sending your heart rate skyrocketing once more.

You were utterly and totally paralyzed. At first you’d drawn the covers over your head, hoping to block it all out, but it was a warm evening and quickly you found yourself throwing your blankets off, needing some unobstructed air, met once more with the terror of the dark.

Childe, you wished Childe were here. He always knew how to chase away the dark, how to make the books and the lamps and the dressers go back to their usual selves. His teasing annoyed you sometimes, but now you longed for the distraction. If only he weren’t so late. If only you’d paid better attention to the time, if only.

Your eyes darted around your room, as if seeking out something you knew wasn’t there. You knew that whatever you saw was an illusion, the result of your brain trying to piece something together, something to keep it from getting bored. You knew perfectly well that it was an explainable phenomenon. And yet fear is so very difficult to fight, so though you continued scolding yourself for your nonsensical actions, you also continued to look around, sure that you’d find something if only you paid enough attention.

Time had frozen along with you, and you were so preoccupied with your fear that the door opening came as a terrible shock. You jumped, adrenaline racing through your veins, but the muffled “I’m home” was what you’d been waiting for. You just needed to go greet him. The moment you got out of your room and to the light of the kitchen it’d be alright. But you were still frozen, and though your mind screamed at your limbs to move you found there was no escaping the sort of spell that had been cast by your fear.

The sliver of light from the hallway finally began to eat away at your trance. The door opening to reveal Childe was what completely broke it.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Childe asked, a look of concerned plastered on his face. You let out a strangled sort of cry as an answer, fumbling off the bed before catapulting straight into his arms, burying your face in his chest. Childe immediately reciprocated the hug, stroking your hair in a soft, soothing motion. It hadn’t taken much to put the pieces together. What else after all could it be.

“It was the dark, wasn’t it?” He asked, whispering a faint “ah” in response to you nodding your head. “It’s okay my darling, I’m here. You don’t have to be afraid anymore, alright? It’s okay, it’s alright. It must’ve been very frightening to be alone.” His voice was almost melodic, the sotto tone slowly coaxing you back to yourself.

How confused would people be, you thought to yourself, how confused they’d be if they realized how kind Childe truly is. But you were grateful for that kindness. Right now it was what you needed. There’d be teasing tomorrow, teasing and bantering, and everything that was the usual Childe. But right now there was only comfort and softness, and you thanked Childe and the archons for it.

The rest of the night was a sedate one. You were both tired, Childe from his work, you from not only yours but the terrible fright you’d had. The two of you had eaten a late dinner, chairs pulled up next to each other, hands intertwining intermittently. There wasn’t much talking, instead you two enjoyed being in each other’s presence; the familiarity and comfort it brought.

Though the night was still warm you found yourself cuddling, arms wrapped around one another, legs tangled together. The beating of Childe’s heart steadied you, his breathing reminded you that he was there, that you were safe now. You didn’t have to fear the demons that your mind imagined. He’d scare them away for you.

It was difficult to keep secrets from Childe, and in the beginning the urge had been there. Who would want a significant other who jumped at shadows and was always spinning tales of the dark in their head? Especially someone like Childe who was so confident, so self-possessed. It was shameful, a part of you told yourself, how could he bear it?

But you were glad he’d figured it out, that you couldn’t keep secrets from him. Because at the end of the day Childe knew you best, knew how to keep the fear and the anxiety at bay, knew that being afraid of the dark, although worth a little teasing, didn’t make you any less of a mature and intelligent human being. And for that you loved him.

You loved him so much.

  Diluc

“I know this might be sudden, but I want you to move into the Winery.”

That simple sentence had the adverse effect of completely messing up your life.

Your initial reaction had essentially been to buffer. Living together with Diluc, living with the person you loved above all others, it really seemed like a dream come true. Like something you’d wish to happen without any hope of said wish being realized. And yet it wasn’t a dream. He’d actually asked you. Diluc had actually asked you to live with him.

Once you’d gotten over your initial euphoria however a problem seemed instantly to present itself. That problem being that you were absolutely terrified of the Winery after dark.

I mean, who wouldn’t be? It was an old building, old enough for servants to whisper about lights that turned on without prompting, about footsteps coming down the empty halls, about people of old stepping out of their portraits and dancing the night away. It was absolutely terrifying to you, who already looked upon the dark with no little suspicion. And although the occasional night with Diluc was fine, you weren’t sure if you could deal with waiting in such a vast, creaking space alone.

But you didn’t want to tell Diluc that. Because though you were indeed a bit terrified, living with him did sound heavenly. It was something you dreamed of, and you didn’t want Diluc to come away with the wrong impression, the idea that you somehow thought he was being too familiar or going too fast. The thought of telling Diluc about your predicament never crossed your mind in the span of the conversation. After all it wasn’t as if he could do anything about it, he couldn’t very well redo the entire winery. Besides, it was such a silly fear, telling him about it would feel like you were making a mountain out of a molehill.

Eventually your mind settled on an answer: dragging the matter out. Professing your happiness at the idea you told him that it would require some mulling over, not to mention the paperwork in regards to the apartment you were currently living in. Diluc took it all with perfect understanding, assuring you that he could wait. “Besides,” he’d said, “what’s a little while when compared to the rest of our lives?” You’d blushed profusely at that, burying your face in Diluc’s neck. Yes, it would be alright in the end. And with that you pushed it out of your mind.

For the time being.

Although Diluc had many virtues patience was – perhaps surprisingly – not among them. Not more than three days had passed before he mentioned it again. Not that you were unhappy about it, no it wasn’t that. Nor did you feel pressured by him, you certainly didn’t. It was just the question of the Winery itself, and the fear that hung over your head like a sword. Just some time, a little more time.

The days turned into weeks, then almost a whole month, the whole time being wrapped up in your little song and dance. Diluc was evidently feeling dejected, but though you felt more than a little guilty about the whole matter, you still continued stalling.

Finally though things came to a head.

“My dear I understand if you don’t want to move in, but please just tell me!” Diluc burst out, voice dripping with frustration. “I understand if this is going too fast, I understand if you’re overwhelmed, I understand if you realize you’re not ready. But you must tell me, you must tell me what you’re thinking or else I’ll never be able to put this at rest.”

“It’s not that.” You assured him, shaking your head violently.

“Then what is it?” Your reply stuck in your mouth at his question. Why had it come to this? Conflicting emotions rose inside you, but all of them pointed towards one thing. You needed to tell him the truth. You needed to, or else this was going to turn into one of the stupidest rows you’d ever participated in.

“I… I’m afraid of the dark.” You replied softly, voice petering out to be no more than a whisper. Immediately the look of exasperation on Diluc’s face was replaced by one of concern.

“My dear?”

“I’m afraid of the dark,” you replied, this time with more force, “I’m afraid of the dark and I’m really afraid of the Winery after dark. So that’s why I’ve been putting it off. Not because I don’t want to move in, not because I think this is going too fast, but because the Winery makes me uncomfortable after dark. It’s so creaky and open and old and while that might be charming in the daytime, at night I feel like someone’s watching me.” You hugged yourself slightly, the image placed vividly in your mind. Yes, you did feel like you were being watched. Everywhere you turned you were surrounded by the eyes of those who were long gone, and it frightened you, how terribly it frightened you.

Diluc closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping you in his embrace. You reciprocated immediately, inhaling deeply, comforted by his presence.

“I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t know. If I had I’d have never proposed it.”

“You couldn’t’ve known,” your voice was slightly muffled by his jacket, “besides, I didn’t want to tell you. Because I knew you couldn’t do anything about it.” Lifting your head up you gazed at Diluc, who cupped your face with his hand.

“You don’t have to move in my dear.” Diluc’s voice was soft but firm, there was nothing but sympathy and encouragement in it. You smiled softly, leaning into the palm of his hand.

“But I want to. That’s the problem Diluc, I desperately want to move in. And yet I don’t know what to do. I can’t have you hanging around me each night. You’re the Darknight Hero. I cannot expect you to give that up for me. Even if you said you would I wouldn’t let you. I know how much it matters to you.”

There was a pause before Diluc spoke again. “Then let me suggest this. We see ways that we might accommodate. Perhaps a night lamp or some such thing. Or perhaps I need to pay more attention to the structure of the Winery. We’ll see what we can do together, and if nothing can be solved then we’ll find another way. Is that alright, my dear?”

“That sounds lovely.” You replied, finally smiling in earnest. What did you do to deserve such a human in your life? It felt like too much sometimes. You were experiencing such happiness as you seldom had before, not to such a degree. And you cherished it with all your heart.

It was the evening. You two were getting ready for the night, you preparing to go home, Diluc preparing for the task ahead of him.

“You spoil me terribly, you know.” You said, planting a quick kiss on Diluc’s cheek. Diluc smiled slightly mischievously, leaning down to give you a proper kiss.

“I don’t spoil you.” He finally replied, expression softening to one of fondness. “And if there was anyone in the world worth spoiling it’s you. I love you my dear, I’d do anything for you.”

“And I for you.” Your reply was soft, you yourself overcome by the love you felt.

It’d be alright in the end. If you knew anything, you knew that. It’d be alright. Because you’d have the one you loved most in the world with you every step.

[pangzi]

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.  

tagged by @forerussake, thank you for tagging me and making me expose my embarrassing amount of wips... I’ll put them under a cut as well because I have way too many dmbj wips... I’m starting with the non-dmbj ones and then we’ll dive into the mountain that is dmbj wips...

tagging: @hils79, @s1utspeare, @ohyka (tell me about your art wips i’m begging), @ibenholt, @phantomhydeoftheopera, @river-sludge, @englishbunnyrocks, @qinghe-s everyone who sees this, yes you!

Chastitea - a Nielan fic for my dearly beloved Celeste.

Seducing Chifeng-zun - Nielan

The struggles of lusting after your fake boyfriend - a Weilan fic I started writing exactly two years ago (wtf) with hobo, it’s at +30k and so nearly done. I’ve always wanted to finish it but dmbj possessed me.

Zhao Yunlan: Ace Detective. There’s Room For Two Aces In This Department. - Ace Weilan AU based on a book I read.

this man is pathetic, which is very hot part 2 - heihua, sequel to my heihua fic with the same name

t4t pangxie - something i wanted to write for the last day of pangzi birthday week but never got to it bc i got burned out and discouraged... in which i project all my transmasc non-binary experiences onto pangzi.

3 times Xiaoge got himself off + 1 time he let pangzi help - ace!xiaoge my beloved finding relief and comfort around pangzi and pangzi being very good and lovely and accepting about it.

“mirf’s panghua week” aka me attempting to spread the my panghua and pangzi polycule agenda as i post a 7 chaptered fic in a week

5 + 1 Kan Jian - this one would be for my beloved ohyka. Kan Jian gets to be the horny bastard he is as he casually sleeps around and the one time it isn’t casual

Blowing off steam - Zhang Rishan/Xie Yuchen

Mouthful - Pangxie smut

Love Languages - simple ways in which Pangzi’s partners show him he’s loved (currently this is 5 fics under one title)

Wu Xie’s Best Man Pangzi - pangpiaoxie

Fridge Gremlin Xiaoge - Iron Triangle

Attention, please - Pangxie

The sunlight on your skin - Pangxie

In your bed - Pangxie (smut)

Happy Ending - Heihua (smut)

In a heartbeat - Pangxie

Bed wrestling - Pangxie

All you have to do is ask - fuba (smut)

You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid - Pangsang

“do you have the cure?” - pingpang (you know the scene in tlt2, but pangzi panics a bit at the possibilty of xiaoge flirting with him)

pangzi’s story about xiaoge in a dress in tlt2 - pingpang

mmmmmm people flirting with xiaoge? in front of pangzi’s salad? - pingpang

Pangzi turns the iron triangle into a line (this one will make many people mad probably oop)

Two guys making out in a hot tub because they don’t like each other - heihua

xie yuchen grabs ass - heihua

tlt2.2 is NOT REAL - iron triangle

useless bottom wu xie fails to prove he’s not a pillow princess - pangxie

5 times wu xie convinced himself his actions were completely straight + 1 time he realized there’s nothing straight about him - pangxie

Wu Xie is confident in seducing Pangzi yet doesn’t expect to succeed - pangxie

You’ve waited long enough Pangzi! Stop rejecting him! - pangxie

Erjing’s revenge, but better - Panzi/Erjing

Jia Kezi’s stamina - Li Jiale/Jia Kezi (smut)

divide (ershu's legs) and conquer (put a baby in him to take over the bloodline) - Jingbai

You’re never too much and always enough - Iron Triangle (Pangzi is loved)

who needs prompts, xiaoge takes merpangzi’s dicks - another late merpangzi fic pingpang week

Where he belongs (Merpangzi’s arms) - another late merpangzi for pingpang week

Suddenly Seventeen - Pangxie

Wu Xie is incredibly inconvenienced (they ran out of his favourite tea) - pangxie

hey it ended up less than I expected! which means i did a good job a while ago weeding out everything i don’t actually want to write anymore

[dumdumsun]

And Dusk

A/N: Enjoy ❤️

Warnings: brief violence

Word Count: 1560

—————————————

Chapter 14: The Countdown

The walk from Elliott’s to Reginald’s took up enough of (Y/N)’s time. When she approached the door, she hastily wiped her tears before pushing the front door open. The house was wrapped up in its usual silence. It never really made noise unless she was home, after all. Rushing up to her room, she locked the door and set her puppy on the ground before changing her clothes. She avoided looking at Mr Pennycrumb as she moved about her room, throwing on articles of clothing and pulling on shoes. Opening her wardrobe, she dug into the pocket of one of her coats and pulled out a folded piece of paper. The note was pressed to her lips as she shut her eyes, a moment for the world to freeze only for her, before slipping it into her pocket. With a deep breath, she spun around to meet the expectant stare of her beloved pet.

“Nothing’s ever easy, huh, Penny?” She sniffled, kneeling down beside the bed to watch him lean down and lick her fingers. “This was supposed to be my easiest relationship, baby, and now I gotta leave you… I know we’ve only known each other for less than two months, but I’ll remember every single moment we spent together, bud. I wanted so badly to watch you grow up, to finally grow into that big personality of yours. But I’ll need you to be good for Mom… because we both know how Dad feels about you being around.”

The puppy barked and licked her face, clearing her tears as he did so. She giggled and kissed the top of his head.

“I’ll never forget you, Mr Pennycrumb. You absolute angel. I love you so much.” Standing to her feet, she slowly approached her bedroom door, giving the entire room one last look. She wasn’t attached to it. Not in the slightest. But there was one little savior who, sitting on her bed and tilting his head, she would forever be connected to. “I’m leaving you in the best hands possible. Goodbye, baby.” She breathed and shut her door. Covering her mouth, she sped down the staircase and towards the front door.

“(Y/N)?! Where have you been?!”

Shit.

Wiping her tears away yet again, she turned to her mother and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I-I...” She croaked. Grace’s frown softened before she crouched down in front of her.

“Honey? Is everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine… I just, uh… I have a really bad headache and it’s a little overwhelming.”

“Oh… I can get you some-”

(Y/N) quickly shook her head. “It’s fine. I was going to head into town, get some fresh air.”

“Well, that’s fine, hun, but you cannot run off like that. You nearly gave us a heart attack! You can’t do that to me. Y-You just can’t!”

“I’m sorry, Mom-”

“Especially right now… I-I wanted to talk to you.”

I don’t have time, I don’t have time.

“Have you,” Grace sighed and looked away, a very clear internal battle going on within her. “Sweetheart, do you notice anything about your father? Anything strange?”

Furrowing her brows, (Y/N) stepped closer. “What… do you mean…?”

“I mean with his work. Do you know anythin’ about what he’s doin’? With the meetings, the secrecy. I-I know it isn’t fair to ask this of you, but I… I-I need to know.”

(Y/N) glanced to the side as she weighed her options. She could always lie to Grace, tell her that she had no idea what Reginald was up to, his plan to kill the president. But she knew her mother deserved so much better than yet another lie from another person she trusted dearly. So, she lifted her head and nodded, hoping it was enough. It seemed as if that were the case, because Grace took a deep breath and enveloped the girl in a hug. (Y/N) sniffled and held her mother tight.

“If I find anything dangerous goin’ on, I’m leaving, (Y/N). I’m leavin’ and I’m takin’ you with me.”

The young girl widened her eyes at these words. “You what?”

“You’re my daughter, (Y/N), adoption be damned. I promised you I would take care of you no matter what. And if removin’ you from Reggie’s life will do that, then I will do what I have to.”

“And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I love you so much, Mom…”

“I love you, too, hun.”

(Y/N) never wanted to get attached, she never wanted to build happiness like this for herself, because she knew it’d eventually get ripped from her. One way or another. Still, it was a fun ride while it lasted. Pulling away from the hug, she sniffled again and rubbed her nose. Grace’s smile was full of so much care, adoration and unconditional love that (Y/N) had to step away to let herself breathe. “Well… I’m going now. Um… Mom? Could you do something for me while I’m gone?”

“Anythin’.”

“Please, take care of Mr Pennycrumb. I don't know what I’d do if something happened to him.”

Quietly chuckling, Grace nodded and clasped her hands together as the girl opened the front door. “I promise, only if you promise to be careful. I need you here with me, darlin’.”

“I promise, Mom.”

Stepping out of her home- of Reginald’s house, (Y/N) glanced down at her watch.

Thirty minutes. Shit!

Spinning on her heel, she sprinted her way in the direction of the alleyway. Her chest heaved, her breath was labored, and her arms pumped as her legs worked restlessly to take her to her destination. Locals scowled and gasped when she pushed past them, the girl calling out multiple apologies over her shoulder after the fact. She nearly ran past a corner she had to round, skidding to a stop and turning back around. When she did, she was met with a pair of dark brown eyes. “Preston!”

“You’re coming with me.” He huffed and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her in the opposite direction, back where she started. “I’ve been looking all around Dallas for you. I talked with your dear father and he said you didn’t mean what you said.”

“I don’t have time for this! Let go of me!” (Y/N) thrashed in the hold he now had around her waist. Preston growled and pinned down the arm she had just freed from his grasp.

“You never have time for me, (Y/N)! That’s the problem with you women! You always want the world to revolve around you! Well, you’re just gonna have t’make some time for me! Right now!”

“Goddammit! Let go of me, you little shit!” She shrieked. She freed her arm once again and reared her elbow back towards his face, but he quickly moved his head away to dodge it. The next second, she heard a grunt, and Preston’s hold on her was gone. Spinning around, she saw the boy on the ground, unconscious, blood dribbling from his nose. “What the hell?”

Her eyes moved up and widened at the sight of Lila dusting herself off. Her expression was almost unreadable to (Y/N), but she detected exhaustion. The two stared at each other for a beat before they both nodded. Lila turned her gaze forward and ran off in (Y/N)’s opposite direction. The young girl let out a breath, took one last look at Preston, and continued her sprint to the alleyway.

Arriving there, she almost crashed into the brick wall. “I’m here, I’m here!” She breathlessly called out to Five and Luther. “I’m here- Ew, what the fuck?!” She yelped, her foot almost landing in a splatter of vomit. Beside it was a groaning Klaus, the man muttering something about a strange dream.

“Thank god,” Five clenched his jaw and checked his watch. “Anymore last minute arrivals?!”

“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?!” (Y/N) hissed and made her way over to the seething Five, who only spared her a glance before looking around the alleyway again.

“We’ve got a minute left.” Luther muttered and smashed his fist against the top of the closed dumpster.

Klaus groaned and placed his hands over his face. “What’s going on, guys? Are we going somewhere?”

“It was a simple task,” Five ranted as he paced the alleyway. “It was a simple task! All we had to do was be here. Didn’t have to fight a giant sea monster, no. Any army of mutants? Nein!”

(Y/N) checked her watch, sighing as their last remaining minute ticked away. Heading to the opening of the alley, she moved her head from left to right, hoping to see the last of her siblings rushing to their way home. But alas, no one arrived and she could hear the three behind her yelling at each other. The sound of clicking got her attention and she turned around to see everyone watching the briefcase.

“Goddammit.” Five muttered before bending down and picking up the briefcase by the handle, flinging it into the air. With a zap and a whoosh, their ticket to 2019 disappeared in a bright blue portal. The four watched as the portal disappeared, much like the first time they were left in this timeline. “We were that close.”

“That close…” (Y/N) sighed.

—————————————

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