#feel free to send in ideas for it if you have any!!

[valentine-cafe]

hello (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

I'm sure ur inbox is probably brimming with requests rn, so I'm just gonna slip this in and u can take ur time with it!

[Top male] reader who's usually gentle in bed but had to go through a day full of misfortune that got him stressed, and he channels that into pounding the characters hard? When he comes back to himself, he feels so guilty and remains minimal contact with the characters for a few days. (⁠>⁠▽⁠<⁠)

The orders will be tiramisu, affogato and croissant! though, I'm not sure if the characters fit the prompt so feel free to change them out for another. (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠)

And if I haven't lost your interest, may I be so blunt to ask to take up the 📖 anon? If that isn't taken, of course.

Thank you dearly! ♡

˖⁺. “ stress fuck ! ” : 

﹙ multi bttm m. characters x frustrated top male reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . various bttm male characters !! 🍒 : 

you're typically so gentle with him . . . but after a bad day - you can't help but come back and fuck him senseless 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ penetrative sex ˖ rough sex ˖ degradation ˖ some angst | wc : 1.8k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: here you go! hope you enjoy this! and of course you can be our 📖 anon <3

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

﹙ Alessio 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : He prefers it rough. Prefers his eyes rolled back into his skull and nails dragged down your back. Prefers the loud slapping and lewd moans pouring through the room as you manhandle him. Him. A 6’7”, highly trained mercenary. Have you any idea how fucking hot that is?

So when you were pounding away at his tight ass and spewing your degradation to his ear. Well, let’s just say that your cock ramming up his prostate was not the only thing sending him to cloud nine. The very notion that his soft-as-a-feather boyfriend was using him as a cocksleeve was enough to have him creaming all over himself.

Your hands left bruises on his olive skin. Ones that took his breath away when he looked at the mirror the morning after. His throat whispered memories of your tight grip stealing his breath away. Making him cling. Making him keen.

And then. . . you went distant. What the hell was that all about?

Alessio has never been good at no contact. Not texting you goodnight drives him insane as is. So don’t be too surprised when he’s crawling through your window at some ungodly hour to find out what the hell is going on.

“You - feel bad for fucking me?”

His half-hung eyes are wide for once. Before his hands grab at your shoulders and hoist you in. “You’re kidding right? Baby - I loved it.”

The puppy-eyed look he gives you is enough to melt your stubbornness. You sheepishly explain the entire situation and behold his frown. It doesn’t take much more until his arms are around you and toppling your body into the plush of couch cushions.

“No seas idiota.” ( “Don’t be an idiot” ) he huffs into your neck that he nuzzles up. “I just want you to do what you need, amore. None of that. Especially not for giving me the night of my life, yeah?” He pulls back to stare you down and then gives you a little peck when you nod.

﹙ Vespasiano 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : It’s no secret that Vespasiano has almost always been on the giving end in a relationship. Not to mention his lack of experience when it comes to men — so he’s still growing accustomed to being with you. His lovely boyfriend. Who also tops him. With that in mind, he quite appreciates your gentle hands and tender pace whenever he finds himself beneath you.

With that being said, he didn’t mind getting his ass ploughed that night you came home full of huffs and tensions. Even with his shock when you had suddenly buried your hand into his hair and forced his head into the pillows. When you started grunting and calling him a whore - splitting him open and making his eyes roll back.

He doesn’t thin anyone has ever fucked him out so much before. You got him to whine. Got him to whimper. Stutter and tell you it’s too much. Him. A man of his age, his experience.

The morning after, while the ache in his body and the realisation of what occurred still left him shocked, pleasure bubbled over his entire being. That felt. . . amazing.

Then came your distance. Anxiety swelled in his chest all over again. He can’t handle that. He’s dealt with it too many times from his ex wife. This sends him right back to the panic of uncertainty. Did he do something wrong? Were you mad at him?

He’s not going to bother with calling. He knows it never gets anywhere. So he’s showing up to your doorstep with big eyes while trying to keep it all together.

“Tesoro. . . did I do something? Talk to me, please.”

He’s collapsing into you before you know it. The guilt in your heart has you spilling everything which leaves him confused through his endless kisses all over your face.

“Too rough? Please. Do you think ‘m glass? I’m sixty-six, baby.” He’s chuckling against your ear despite his shaky demeanor. Cupping at your face and letting out a soft croon. “Nonsense. Is it new? Yeah. Do I hate it? Fuck no.”

He hooks you onto his lap soon after and shoots you a look of concern. “If anything I’m more worried ‘bout that bad day of yours. Won’t you talk to me?”

 

﹙ Jìngyí 209. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : He’s so used to his tender and gentle loverboy that the second you had him pinned down to the marble kitchen counter and fucking him to delirium — he almost thought he was dreaming.

He’s so accustomed to whispering sweet nothings to your ear, telling you how good you are, what a great job you’re doing. The last thing he expected was to have that replaced by your ragged voice muttering curses rough praises to his neck. Your nails clawing down his skin. Your hands making use of his flexible, snake-like body. With coils, pins, rough handles all over.

With all his work stress, of course he was all for you fucking him dumb and limp into the sheets. What he could not understand, however, was the sudden distance you put up after the morning of softness. Where he clung to you and murmured how much you had completely wrecked him the night before.

Good luck trying to remain distant from Mister Zhao, however. You’d find yourself confronted the second you avoided his call to check on your wellbeing.

He’s at your workstep before you can so much as blink. Pulling you off somewhere quiet and giving you a look through those amber, slitted eyes of his that told you to talk. Truthfully.

“You know how much I hate being ignored. . . sweetheart, what is the matter?”

All you can do is break when his tender hand caresses your face. Thumb rubbing below your eye while you sniffle over your rough day. How it resulted in you taking it out on him —- how bad you felt about it.

You catch his narrow-eyed stare. The look of disbelief and concern that melted through the prior irritation from your avoidance. He’s pulling you into his arms and tucking your head beneath his chin with a small frown.

“Silly boy. . . if I had an issue with it, do you not think I would have stopped you? Please, take it easy on yourself.”

You’ll have a quiet and calm day with him throughout. Anything to show you that he is fine, and so are you.

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[chordsykat]

Dethkomic III Casting Call

Alright, gang. It's time... Send me your characters to cameo in Dethkomic. Because this time around, these idiots could use all the help they can get.

It's the last-hurrah of Dethkomic. The final five issues. Endgame. Show's over. Curtain call.

So let's make it extra special by inviting as many OCs/self-inserts as we can, hey?

DISCLAIMER: If you've had an OC in the comics previously, you don't need to ask me to include them. They're already involved. As a thank you for sticking with me over the last 3 years, 8 issues, and 200+ pages, they'll be a little more involved than newcomers, but I still want to give any new people lending me their MTL children as much "screen time" as possible. That said...

An appearance is guaranteed for all who submit an application. Just one character per person, please! And you do the picking – don’t make me choose between multiples. I am terrible at that. :) Reference sheets with art are best, but I also take written descriptions, celebrity stand-ins, and that kind of stuff, too!

Feel free to give me an idea of anything they wouldn't do. There'll probably be ample crowd shots but if there aren't too many, I like to give these supporting roles at least a line of dialogue or some active involvement that's on-character.

And that's it! Send me a note on here and you're in! Please note that I have the right to refuse a character for any reason, but if you're not trolling, you'll probably get in.

Cheers! And I look forward to updating the comic in the coming weeks!

[iratempestatis]

Heyy! How are u? I hope you’re doing well i saw you wanted some requests for xiao and i thought of an idea so we know xiao’s true form is a bird right? How about xiao’s s/o one day discovers it by an accident? Like maybe the s/o is an adventurer and was exploring around liyue in the night and happened to hear the whistling sound we hear in the game in liyue (the one where xiao calls for his dead friends) and the s/o goes to see what the noise is the rest is up to you

Entwined.

Xiao x gn!reader, 5.5k words. Some angst and then all fluff, it may not have been exactly what you wanted but I do hope you like it! I love bird Xiao <3 Feel free to send more Xiao asks! Rest assured I will write them even if it takes some time :3

Being an adventurer is hard work.

Find a suitable commission (which never happens), figure out any additional details (clients never provide enough info, especially the rich ones), plan your schedule, budget and equipment accordingly (it often falls short thanks to their unreasonable demands), finally carry out the commission (it often turns out to be far more frustrating and time consuming than you anticipated), get angry when the client stubbornly refuses to cough up the original sum of mora (this thankfully doesn’t happen as much), nurse your wounds (ouch) and worry nonstop about any sudden emergencies (what if you get injured? What’s going to happen when you get old?) You sometimes wish you listened to your family and became a scholar instead.

Anyway, you’re currently locked in a bitter battle with a rank one (1) asshole, so maybe you just have an unreasonably short fuse right now.

Some days past an old, rich Fontainian posted a commission at the Liyue branch of the Adventurers guild. And you were lucky enough to snag it. It was a stroke of sheer fortune, quite literally, too- if you could meet the client’s demands, you’d end up with a completely inane amount of mora. You planned on doing this mission solo- after all, any expenses incurred would be more than covered by the heaps of mora you’d be swimming in soon enough.

But some conniving liar told Katheryne you’d agreed to pair up with him- and she believed him before you could confirm it, so now you’re officially partners… which means you’re forced to share the spoils.

You’re so tempted to drop the commission altogether, but-

“But that’s what he wants,” you hiss, hiking up the trail along the beautiful mountains of Jueyun Karst. Normally this would be a soothing trip- Jueyun Karst is so glorious you sometimes wonder if the gods picked a random mortal’s preferences to model it after (yours), but today you saw only the bad, like the still smoking fires left behind by some careless brigands, and a dead mouse. You consider bringing it back to Changsheng as a twisted joke- no, she’d paralyse you. Best to focus on the task at hand. You go over the details.

The commission was vague (rich, old man), although a bit sad (old man). If you really did find what he want though (unlikely, vague request, but if partially fulfilled, you get half the mora) you wouldn’t have to work at all for perhaps the next six months (rich man).

Apparently, a long, long time ago, the rich old man saw a beautiful apparition in the form of a woman. Lost in the foggy mountains on a rainy day, he saw her seated on a tree nestled deep somewhere in Jueyun Karst. She apparently rescued his life, by appearing on a different tree each time he got too close, leading him out the valley. When he asked for her name, she responded with a mere scoff, then vanished for good.

You’re pretty sure that’s either bull or some ghost. Sounded disturbingly like an Inazuman tale you heard once. Either way, she doesn’t exactly sound like a normal person.

And he wants you to find her.

How are you even supposed to do that? The old man is decrepit, according to Katheryne, who (bless her bionic heart) tried her damnedest to convince him it was something out of the ordinary, and that he should give up. You agree with her- you’re pretty sure it was either a ghost (no finding it), an adeptus (no finding them) or an actual mortal woman (Xiao’s influencing you too much. You could’ve just said woman. Also, if it really was just a woman, which she wasn’t, she’s probably dead by now.)

But you didn’t really have the heart to tell the old man that. Or maybe you got a little greedy. But hey, he can afford it! And you just might end up end up giving his broken heart some closure, right?

You figure you’ll ask around, look for the grave. So far you’ve had no leads, besides some blue haired kid (with the ugliest haircut, you think, then feel bad for thinking that of a kid) lying to your face in an attempt to prank you. It’s so strange, because you’re pretty sure you’ve seen her-? Him? With someone important, in silks and brocade. You just can’t remember who… but you digress.

You’ve checked everywhere you could think of in the past two, almost three weeks. Nothing. You’ve even been to Mingyun Village- again, nothing. Right up until a child in Qingce told you she saw a similar pretty woman, on a tree in Jueyun Karst. Really.

You’ve spent days in Jueyun Karst, craning your neck and nearly stumbling down mountain slopes, eyes throbbing from the light, spine burning. But nothing. You considered taking the easy way out and telling him it was Cloud Retainer, but you’re an adventurer with morals and besides, anyone who’s met her knows she never stops talking. But on the subject of your quarry, why did that bitch find a nondescript tree to sit in every time? Was it so hard to just go sit on the big, glowy one?

“Old hag,” you mutter. Your calves feel about as solid as almond tofu right now, and your brain just as smooth. You have no idea how you’re going to do this, but. The mora.

You glance at the note Katheryne gave you. It told you just a few things- a dark haired woman in a tree, with hair that fluttered like downy feathers in the wind (poetic old man. Also rich, you remind yourself), pale, in a tree, nothing more.

You sigh.

At least Jueyun Karst is pretty at night.

And comfortable enough to camp in, you figure. Granted, there’s some treasure hoarders and monsters, but it is the abode of the adepti after all.

You shrug, and trudge upward along the winding paths. Darkness is gathering, but your eyes adjust.

Eventually, the lingering shadows cease to lengthen and melt into the darkness enveloping the mountain as a whole. You’re disconcerted as you start to make camp in a copse, but reassured by the small blaze you’ve lit to warm yourself at some distance.

Upon making camp, you settle down on the grass with a snack. The wind rustles through your little copse and you see the moon emerge, denuding its robe of clouds. Silvery fingertips trail across the land, painting, muting Jueyun Karst beneath its touch.

It’s peaceful, yet haunting.

What’s more haunting though, is the soft, yet somehow piercing, keening cry that wafts through the air.

It’s slow at first, just a trilling hum that gets clearer and higher with every moment before lilting and fading away.

You blink. You’ve never heard such a sound before. Is it a musical instrument? A bird of some sort?

You hear it again. It doesn’t start slowly this time- it’s high, all at once, then a low humming before rising in a wail once more. It sounds like music. It sounds like weeping. And for some inexplicable reason, you feel your chest tighten and feel hollow, all at once.

This is a bad idea, you tell yourself as you scrabble to put out the fire. You remind yourself of the same once more as you pack all your things (after you just made camp, too), fingers trembling, dropping things. Perhaps this is it, the maiden you were looking for.

You sling the bag across your bag with a force that makes you stumble, then start making your way up the hill.

Maybe this really is it, you think. In the distance you see tiny glows, nestled away across the vale. Probably treasure hoarders. For some reason, your heart aches.

It feels like you’ve been sitting stagnant for too long. Everything around you has grown. When you pull your hand up to wipe away a tear, you see it shrouded in spiderwebs. They reach past your ribs, to your elbow, to the rest of you. Force their way gently into your mouth, into your ears. They’re in your nostrils. You cannot breathe.

Arriving near the source of the sound, you sit onto the grass for a moment, to rest. The webs are swaying, scratching uncomfortably across all of you. Tightening and loosening and tangling, keeping you in place. You cannot move.

You’ll cut yourself.

Get a grip. Oh, Morax.

There’s a lull in the cries and your head feels lighter all of a sudden. You blink, then start to get up- utterly nonplussed, what are you doing here-

A sobbing, recoiling cry abruptly sounds from before you, the maker contained away in the hurst right before you, overlooking the valley. The moon skips ahead, weaves between the clouds.

Steeling yourself, heart racing, you enter the thicket peek behind the tree and look up towards the sound.

It’s a… something. A mess of tattered wings and bloodied feathers and too many eyes. In the night they all look black and silver, but realisation hits you with the force of a thousand spears- this is Xiao.

It’s Xiao.

Keening, weeping, alone. Seated on a tree, cradled in its branches. Shielded by its crown. He’s crying.

He’s crying.

He sheds no tears in his avian form- large gold eyes turned to the moon, muscular neck lain limply across a branch. You see his throat move and his eyes shut- eyes that are still gold, even in the dark- as he lets out another cry.

You can see his back and tail- the rest is covered by multiple sprawling wings. They’re dark. Looking at them feels as though looking at a human bruise on an oil painting. Disconcerting. The smoke coming off them makes them smudge into the dark, become one with it.

He’s beautiful.

But he’s crying and you’ve never known you could feel such anguish at someone else’s grief. Pain, sure, but this is something eyes. Tears well in your eyes to compensate for his current form. One runs down your cheek and it snaps you to your senses- what are you doing, just standing around?

You step towards him, arms outstretched, his name on the tip of your tongue. Your mind’s a mess. Vaguely, you can tell there is something amiss. Voices slither inside your head, voices that don’t belong, filling it up with murmurs in a tongue you don’t understand. Full of vitriol, they ignite emotions within you you didn’t even know existed. Grief so intense you feel as though your heart really is bleeding into your chest. Fury so immense you can’t help but slam a palm into the trunk of the tree next to you and gasp. They twine and twist into shapes and colours you cannot see. For just a moment, you’re blinded, agony blooming across your body. You shudder, gasp.

Something is wrong.

Your vision turns hazy- you glance up to see the bird descend before you, wings magnificently spread, beak- no, mouth now- open, crying out in alarm. You collapse into his outstretched arms and it feels like too much and nothing all at once. Warm water- warm tears- fall onto your temple as your knees buckle. You feel vertigo when he instead has lowered you gently to the ground. Just as you faint, you see him- mouth open, gritted teeth, face damp with tears. You say his name- at least you try-

When you come to, you’re in Bubu Pharmacy.

You feel so unencumbered all at once- the flames across your skin extinguished, the voices silent, the webs gently spooled away. Thank Baizhu. And you can see again, see normally, blind once more to the auras and colours mortals mustn’t see- or perhaps you hallucinated it all.

The old man from the funeral parlour- Zhongli, you recall- is seated on a chair next to you. His posture is a little slack. Sitting up with some difficulty, you see that his eyes are shut. The harbour is silent.

You glance out the window only to see the cheerless night sky mirror the inky ocean below.

Oh no.

You cannot delay. What are you doing here? How long were you asleep? You’re wearing loose, white clothes- who changed you? No matter. You need to find Xiao, because he was crying and your lungs feel like they’re folding in on themselves, and by Morax, he’s probably all alone once more, and you’ve added to his pain by being foolish and interrupting him as he vents in a moment of catharsis-

You stumble out of bed and look around to gather your things, then decide to just come collect them later. You’ve no time to waste. You hear Zhongli inhale deeply as he suddenly awakens- why was this guy in here with you anyways- and quickly bolt, locking the door behind you as you do so.

Sorry, Mr. Zhongli.

You regret not taking his talks about Karmic debt as seriously as you should have. You’re not worried for yourself- you feel much better already (you lift your vision up to your heart. You’re beyond grateful- it’s the only gift the gods have ever given you, their only gift that matters) but Xiao must feel abominable guilt right now. You must reach him, tell him you’re fine, tell him it’s not your fault.

You’re halfway across the main bridge on the northern side of Liyue harbour when you realise it’ll take way too long to find Xiao like this. You could call out his name, of course, but you don’t want to accidentally make him teleport and exert himself in the middle of a breakdown.

You run your hand through your hair, almost pulling it out as you do and glare out at the sea. From the corner of your eye you see the Millelith guards standing by the gate shoot one another unnerved glances, then turn towards you. What’s their problem?

Now irritable, you make your way towards them to politely ask what the matter is- but they clutch one another in terror and immediately start shrieking. You yelp and duck, looking around frantically for the danger. The guards continue babbling and pointing, then screech again as you panic and frantically crawl towards them. Maybe you’re a bit more disoriented than you thought you were, because the only people you see on the bridge are you and the guards pointing at you- oh.

You stop crawling and look at them, pushing back the hair from your face as you stumble to your feet. The buffer guard has the smaller one planted firmly before himself like a shield. You sigh and they squeak. Then the bigger one cries out-

“Adeptus Xiao!”

This bitch. You probably are delirious because by now you’ve lost any semblance of self control and feel nothing but fury. Xiao’s going through something right now! You’re not a ghost! Isn’t this supposed to be an era of mortals?

“COWARDS!” You howl, launching yourself at the duo and throw aside the shorter guard with a strength you didn’t know you possessed. Before you can grab the bigger one and clamp his lips shut with your bare fingernails, however, you feel slender, firm arms wrap around your waist and tug you gently back against a warm torso.

Xiao’s long, elaborate sleeve drapes over your front as he holds you. You feel his breath against your neck. You’re immediately consumed by worry so potent you can barely recall what you were even angry about. He leans into you a little and you press your palm against his cheek.

He seems exhausted.

✦—————————————✦

You ended up taking Xiao home that night- or was it morning? You wish you knew. All you do know is that he slumped against you and you half walked, half dragged him home, providing no explanation to the Millelith guards (they didn’t demand one either.)

Xiao drowsed off as soon as you got home and once you’ve sufficiently fussed over him, cocooned him in layers upon of blankets (it’s cold out) and put copious amounts of snacks and water on the bedside table, you make your way over to the couch and crash out.

Just in case.

Sleep takes you easily, pushing past your desperate, incoherent rambles, bringing your body some much needed rest. You awaken when you feel the sun jab rudely at your eyes with its bright, unswerving fingers.

It’s nearly afternoon.

You push yourself up slowly till you’re seated, checking for tiredness or any injuries. None. You’re positive this time- you’re in your right senses.

Your face flushes when you recall what happened yesterday. Or was it today? No matter. Praying to never see those guards again, you slide off the couch and make your way towards your bedroom.

Xiao’s upright, alert and giving his ungloved hands a glare so severe you nearly flinch. When he turns towards you, though, his eyes soften to a degree that might make one doubt him even capable of anger. You can’t help but mirror his softness.

You can’t help feeling a bit downcast, however, and you suspect it shows. Racking your brains for something- anything- to say, you part your lips, but only end up exhaling. You’re having trouble meeting his eyes. You suspect he feels the same.

You stand at the threshold for several moments before finally making your way in, and Xiao’s off the bed in an instant. You feel hands grip your heart and twist when he moves wordlessly across the room, away from you, gesturing towards the bed.

You hate it.

Xiao lives in terror of losing his loved ones- paranoia makes him check in on them from afar, gift amulets, slay any evil that might hurt them. Scores of times he’s caught you before you fell, warned you of danger, reminded you to take care of yourself before you even noticed something amiss.

You know him keeping his distance is him ensuring your safety. Him showing you he cares. It serves only to heighten your anguish.

This has been among your worst fears since the moment you began to care for him- that he’d consider himself a danger to someone he loves.

“Xiao,” you whisper, and your voice wavers more than you wanted to, is softer than you intended. He meets your eyes at that, finally, finally and your chest constricts at his wary gaze. You’re tempted to make light of it- tell him you’re fine, banter a little- but you know that’ll only leave him with a heavier heart, wondering when he’d hurt someone next. You need to address this now, for his sake.

“Hey.” You smile. Good, your voice didn’t waver this time. “Are you…” You trail off. How do you even begin to talk about this?

This isn’t awkward, this is a minefield, except it’ll blow up in his face if you mess up somehow. Your heart quickens.

You try to calm yourself. What does Baizhu say? Don’t borrow anxiety from the future? The future is in motion right now, Baizhu! Useless man.

“I’m sorry.”

You blink rapidly, nonplussed. “What—”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, in a tone so repentant you almost respond with a hurried ‘it’s okay’ despite him having done nothing wrong. Despite it all, a tiny laugh bubbles up in your chest.

Baizhu, that silly old man (he’s your age). You suppose he is right sometimes. (Always.)

You’ve both lived too long, have survived too much to worry about something as small as this. Sure, in a vacuum, it is scary- but truth be told you feel fine- in fact you think you have an even better understanding now of the agony that has become his everyday, that he has endured for eons. This is something you can fix.

You smile and make your way towards Xiao, draw him into your embrace. He makes a quiet sound of protest that’s promptly muffled by you pushing his head affectionately into your shoulder. He exhales, then kisses it and remains in your arms but makes no move to wrap you in his.

That’s fine. You exhale . Xiao feels your breath waft over his ear, your warm, chapped lips as they brush over his face, landing tiny kisses. Your heart continues beating.

You’re there, right with him. Safe. Alive. Alright.

You sway gently, just holding him until eventually he places his palms on your waist and draws you a bit closer, ever so gently. As though you were the soft, powdery wings of a tiny butterfly in the dry summer months.

Before he can apologise- you do. You’re composed at first when you murmur an apology and explain how you came across him- but quickly become teary eyed when you recall how he looked up in that tree, mourning, all alone. His heart hurts. He hates seeing you cry, hates that he caused it- but he finds it difficult to dwell on anything else but the fact that you saw his monstrous, contaminated form and thought him beautiful. That you instantly wanted to hold him close. He feels dizzy.

“And,” you continue, sniffling, “I couldn’t think of anything else. I just felt overwhelmed. I just wanted to- to comfort you.” You’re not going to mention the voices and the pain. Maybe in a few decades. Maybe on your deathbed when it won’t matter anyway. You hear Baizhu’s ‘tsk tsk’ in your head and some vague speech about trust and communication, but you don’t care enough about that right now.

“And then I fainted.” You shrug. “Then I’m guessing you brought me to Baizhu? But I’m so sorry. It’s not your fault at all. I should’ve known to be more careful-“

“Please don’t lie to me.” His voice is soft, strained. He wishes you’d tell him the truth. Was it that much worse? “Tell me what else happened. Did it hurt? Do you feel better now? I’m so-“

You clamp a hand over his mouth. “It’s not your fault!” You protest. “What if some Inazuman wrestler guy threw me at you and you broke your arm, that wouldn’t be my fault- shh don’t interrupt me.” You put your other palm over the first and he exhales, warm breath wafting over your knuckles. You feel calmer already. The wonders of Xiao’s hugs never cease to impress.

“And… yeah, it hurt a bit. There were voices in my head.” He looks stricken. You consider making a garbage joke to cheer him up, but remember you were trying to be a mature adult and sigh. “My body hurt, too. Is that what it’s like for you? All the time?”

He hesitates, but nods with a sigh. “I’ve had centuries to get used to it, however.” You wait for him to draw you even closer, but he’s just looking, taking in your features. He looks as though he’s reassuring himself but not with much relief in sight.

You draw closer on your own instead, with a snort. “It all happened so fast, though. And it… it sucked honestly, even if it was just a couple of minutes. I’m sorry it’s like that for you every day.”

“It lessens with good company.” He finally looks relieved- apparently enough to even jest a little. “Which is likely why it worsens with you.”

You gasp in mock outrage. Maybe Baizhu was right about this whole communication thing. This is going well so far- or maybe not, because the next thing to come gently out Xiao’s mouth is a request to not approach him if he’s having a breakdown henceforth.

“Sorry, no can do. Nuh-uh.”

You swear you see question marks form over his head. “This is not a ‘nuh-uh’ situation, (Name). You could die or develop chronic health issues.” He frowns. “I don’t think-“

“I grasp the gravity of this situation,” you retort, a bit frustrated too. “I’ll stay away if I see or sense the Karmic debt- I will make some other adeptus come to you, though-“

“You cannot make the adep-“

“I will.“

He sighs.

“And,” you continue, “I’ll keep an eye. From afar, but I’ll keep an eye on you and wait for it to be over, before I can come to you again. And if you’re ever sad in a more ordinary sort of way, I will not leave your side, no matter what.” You press your forehead to his with a quiet sigh. “Because I love you. And it hurts when you’re in pain.”

There’s a pause, with neither of you moving. You hear a group of teenagers laugh outside and run past the house. You wonder if that blue haired brat from earlier is with them.

Xiao exhales, then finally (FINALLY!) wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, impossibly so. You rest your cheek against his as he gives you a rueful smile. You’ve won! Ah no, what was it Baizhu said? There’s no individual victor in relationships? Damn, you’re a good student.

But seeing Xiao so close once more… you’re certain you’ve won regardless.

✦—————————————✦

The next couple of hours are spent relaxing, unwinding and examining one another for injuries (this is why you’re perfect together. Mutual respect? Mutual affection? Yes, but also mutual anxiety). A worried Baizhu also comes to pay a visit. He’s angry about you vanishing without notice but cools off quickly as you and Xiao assuage his worries. Changsheng is not so easily mollified and turns even more furious upon being called an ‘angry little noodle’ by you.

Come noon, you and Xiao make your way to Wanmin- neither of you are in much of a mood to cook.

Besides, your consolations have worked wonders and Xiao looks considerably calmer than he did in the morning. Not exactly cheerful, but a happy display is a rarity even on the best of days, so you acquiesce. He’s still careful and is being extra-gentle with you, but you’re glad he’s not blaming himself for not noticing you sooner anymore.

Unbeknownst to you, though, his eyes are on you constantly. Truth be told, he’s only really agreed to dine out in order to observe your movements, reactions to light and the crowd to check for any lingering effects of his Karma. You’ve decimated his morbid expectations though (much to his immense relief)- cheerier than ever, you buy bread and meat for any stray animals you come across, happily greet the friends you bump into and tilt your face upwards to bemusedly watch the clouds form increasingly obscene shapes (what are you up to, Retainer?)

He's a little stunned at how quickly everything happened- he expected his culpability to haunt him for much longer and feels guilty for getting over it so fast. It’s not that he doesn’t care- you matter to him more than anything in Liyue and were anything to actually happen to you because of him, he would truly would have lost the strength he used to cling to his brittle life.

It's just… a bit absurd. You haven’t raised a fuss at all about yourself, besides complaining a little initially. You comforted him instead, and were confused when he tried to reciprocate because “it happened, but it’s over. It’s not your fault and I really am okay now.” You seem to have meant it when you told him it was a terrible but distant memory. In your defence, the ordeal did take only a couple of minutes before he teleported you abruptly to Bubu Pharmacy (he still owes Baizhu an apology for dropping a whole human being into his arms and bolting).

So he allows himself to relax (the voices in his head tell him to split himself on his spear. He hurt you once, he’ll do it again. He imagines you screaming at them to piss off and ends up smiling softly instead).

He shakes his head when you ask what he’s amused about, bright eyed and curious and he gives you the fondest of expressions when you glance away and up at Katheryne. Xiangling teasingly gags at him from behind you, then yelps and runs into the kitchens to dodge Shenhe’s glares.

Xiao wishes you picked a table in the back- the Adventurer’s Guild is plainly visible from where you’re seated and something up there clearly has you distracted. No matter. At least now he can take you in without interruptions.

You look invested- eyes narrowing with amusement first, then further to slits with annoyance. Startled, he turns to see exactly what evoked such disdain from you, and his eyes meet that of a dark haired man, presently engaged in conversation with an elderly gentleman dressed in Fontaine’s fashions. Maybe. Those shoes aren’t fashionable anywhere, he’s pretty sure. Menogias would’ve wept.

The man that’s earned your ire happens to appear quite exquisite by mortal standards- handsome and tall and- Xiao shoots you a hurried glance. Yes, that’s anger, thank the skies-

“You see that guy over there?” You bring the glass to your lips for a sip before lowering it with more force than is necessary. “He’s the jerk I told you about. The one who’s stealing half my commission.”

Xiao blinks. “But he hasn’t found anyone according to the description, has he?”

You frown. “Obviously not. If she really did- hm?”

He turns in his chair to see Katheryne and the men approach- one barrel chested and tall, the other slight and elderly, shuffling along with the pace and gait of a caterpillar. When they get a bit closer, however, the old man stiffens, then breaks into a rapid hobble, before pausing right before Xiao and bursting into tears.

What the- this is fine. He’s not too close. Xiao is still and wide eyed like a startled deer. You bite back the urge to kiss his face all over, then fight the momentary urge to punt the old man as he reaches out to touch Xiao’s face, still bawling. Xiao jerks and stands. The man turns to you as you grab his arm and try to gently sooth him, smacking you away.

“Oh,” he blubbers. “So many nights you’ve haunted my dreams. How I’ve waited all these years. I knew- I knew-“ he coughs, vehemently shakes his fist to keep the rest of you away. “Don’t come closer! I know her- that’s the love of my life!”

Mortals.

The lovely maiden in a tree being Xiao did not surprise you in the slightest. It was a bit startling but you feel incredibly foolish for not connecting the dots earlier.

Pretty maiden up in a tree.

“Really, who else could it be?” You bite into the muffin you bought on the way home.

“Xi- Cloud Retainer.”

“Oh. Is she pretty?”

Xiao tilts his head. He’s adorable. You resist the urge to haul him back down the road for another meal- what a miserable date, that was.

After finally catching Xiao the old man first wept into his chest (he reminded you of an unused hair tie with how scrunched up and tiny he was. The old man, to be clear, not Xiao. Xiao is tiny bit firm), then clasped his clawed hands within his own soft, wrinkly ones (you’re glad Xiao didn’t forget his gloves and you can tell he’s even gladder) and begged Xiao to go with him to Fontaine.

Xiao’s answer being an alarmed, emphatic ‘no’ only succeeded in making the man cling tighter and cry harder.

You did start feeling terrible for the poor guy by that point, so you gave him a handkerchief and some water, sat him down and once he was finally calm and lucid, you explained to him that this was not the maiden he saw all those years ago, but in fact, your beloved.

Your kindness evaporated fast though when he smacked you in the face with your own hankie and swore to never pay you your commission. You left to eat elsewhere at that point. That sounded like a problem for your (rather distressed) ‘partner.’

Presently, though, you’re waiting for Xiao to tell you more about Cloud Retainer. You’ve surmised two things from his slip ups; she lives in the harbour nowadays, and her name starts with “Sh.”

You’re honestly convinced it’s Shenhe, and even more so when Xiao tells you she’s more imposing than pretty. When you tell him your guess, though, he gives an uncharacteristic laugh, so bright and warm. You want to store it in a bottle to sip it on the cold days.

When you tell him so upon reaching home, he just laughs again (!) and kisses your entwined hands. He prays you won't let go.

[pneumosia]

sorry if this sounds rude,,, 😢 but you haven’t been posting lately and that’s like the only thing you have to do right? just post something it’s not that big of a deal? dygwim? i think fanfic writers especially on the anime side like to exaggerate things too much,,, and if you don’t post then just deactivate? there’s no point of staying if you’re not gonna do anything but ramble all the time (again sorry)

hi anon! i’d like to correct a few things here, based on the way you worded this — you likely don’t know how insensitive this ask is.

yes, i haven’t been posting anything lately, totally on me. but at the same time, im a person — with feelings, a life, and friends + family outside of tumblr. i don’t exist just to provide you with fics, i have to clarify that for you since i don’t think you understand that bit just yet.

like any other human being, i have struggles. i usually don’t talk about them openly here because i don’t want to bring the mood down, and i wont even bore you with that information either. but i struggle. so my fics don’t come out as fast as you’d like, there’s a lot that goes into writing instead of something as simple as just “posting something”, you get it? if you’re not sure then you try writing your own work, tell me how it goes.

fanfic writers do not exaggerate, please be mindful that these are real people you have no idea about. they work hard on their pieces and should be appreciated for the joy & love they bring with every word they post. their followers should learn how to be patient.

i’m sorry if this comes off as rude too, but you don’t get to dictate what i do. i’ll deactivate when i feel like deactivating, but it won’t be because you sent me this. rambling helps me let out any pent up feelings i might have, it can be a distraction from the things going on in my life that i’m sure you have no interest in — but it’s comforting for me. so i will continue to do so, and if i make you so upset that you felt this ask was necessary to send, then please feel free to block me, no hard feelings at all. thank you for your concerns, but because i felt this ask comes from you being misguided instead of you straight hating — im answering it. otherwise i would’ve simply blocked you, i hope you have a good day or night 🤍

[0zingt0n]

Oc has been created! (Still a work in progress, with the lore and coloring and such, but these are all the doodles I have—I’m just like way too excited to wait to post them💔)

This is Ellys (El-iss) Belmont! Most of their info I have to share is in the drawing…so here’s some details!

• Ellys is a newcomer, and goes by the stage name “Blue Lightning”

• You can’t tell because there’s no color, but they’re supposed to have a blue streak in the middle of their bangs that goes all the way down their hair

• Their attire is all blue (guess what their favorite color is), and there are lines on the sides of their tank top that connect to lines on the sides of their shorts…it makes a lightning bolt (you understand where the name came from now?)

• Ellys trains with their twin brother, who is the reason they box…

BOOM HE’S HERE TOO!!

Introducing Myles Belmont, Ellys’ twin brother! (“hey…twins in boxing..?” I know…so unoriginal…but there’s a twist!)

• Myles was originally supposed to be a boxer, but before his first match, he got performance anxiety and got sick, desperately begging Ellys to take his place

• Myles is the confident and extroverted twin (which made it surprising to Ellys that he chickened out before his fight), contrasting with Ellys’ naturally calm, self-reserved, and introverted personality

• Myles and Ellys get along really well! When they changed their names during their transitions, they wanted to match in a way (both names replace i’s with y’s)

• After Ellys won the fight as Myles’ sub, Myles was blown away with their skill. He tried to convince Ellys to keep boxing in his place. Ellys worried about revealing they weren’t actually Myles—because they were afraid that the WVBA wouldn’t allow a nonbinary boxer to fight the male boxers (turns out the rules are pretty loose, though…)—so they continued to fight under this “alter ego”

• Another one of their worries was that the audience wouldn’t like Ellys over Myles. Ellys had to put on a show to be their loud and outgoing brother, which was…kind of freeing. Ellys feared that if they went out there as themself, the fans would think they were weird. And strange. And awkward. And—

• While this charade was going on, the twins concocted a plan! Ellys would cut their hair shorter to look like Myles, and Myles would add a blue streak in his hair to look like Ellys (a fair trade, since they both loved their own hairstyles).

• Ellys would fight in the ring as Myles, while during interviews, Myles would just be himself! Ellys was too afraid to be on camera and mess up…but apparently Myles was just fine (oh. he must ENJOY the attention…even though he got sick due to stagefright…<hey it’s different okay? you don’t have to fight the guy interviewing you.>)

• The plan works well, aside from one crucial detail that obsessed reporters point out. Blue Lightning in the ring has a tooth gap, but not during interviews…what can this mean?

At some point, Ellys is tired of pretending to be Myles because they don’t want to pretend to be someone they’re not, and they’re afraid of getting caught and getting in trouble.

And also because Myles takes credit for everything during the interviews. Sure, that shouldn’t be a problem seeing as they look to be the same person, but deep down, Ellys wishes that was them in his place. They get into arguments over this, until finally one day Ellys impulsively reveals their identity. (Today is NOT that day, though!)

I stayed up until 2am drawing all of these. I had SO many ideas welling up inside of me…I’m glad I’m spilling them all finally😭

Anywho! If you want to ask any questions about them, feel free to send me some!! I’d love to annsswweerrr theeeemmmm!!!!!

[irregularcollapse]

Something about your ‘limerance’ au has really stuck with me - all the little snippets you posted have me incredibly intrigued!

I think it’s the outsider POV to the Clegan relationship and how easily their dynamic can be misunderstood, because it’s truly only Gale and John who see each other clearly.

Would love another snippet if you’re still working on it, but otherwise just wanted to let you know that it is living in my head rent free (like all of your fics)!

I actually tried to work on this one the other day!! I got a bit self-conscious about it, but I still like the premise and every time I rewatch parts of MOTA with Curt in them, I’m reminded of how malleable an interpretation of his behaviour around the Buckies can be. I have particular thoughts about the bar scene (and it’s actually this scene that’s the basis for my ideas about past CurtBucky in ITIL).

But okay the limerance fic!! These are the first 500 words (under a cut), because I don’t actually know when I’m going to be finishing it:

The curveball is that this one is fucking blond.

Every other fuck-of-the-month that Bucky has brought round for as long as Curt’s known him—which is a long-ass time—has been a dark-haired slip of a thing. They’ve all without exception been brunette, sometimes curly, sometimes also with blue eyes, and it made good material for ribbing Bucky about his untold levels of narcissism. Curt would tease him, call his hookups The Other Bucky or Clone Kink instead of learning their actual name, and within a month they’d be gone anyway so it didn’t matter.

Then, a week or two later, there’d be another.

This one, though. This one is fucking blond, and though still not quite as tall as Bucky is definitely taller than Curt, and when he speaks he sounds like a cowboy and he moves with the ease of a dancer. They’re always pretty, of course they are, because Bucky has that face and that size and that powerful pull—pheromones, or something—but this one, well. It’s obscene, is what it is. People who go to book launch events aren’t supposed to look like that.

Bucky had asked if Curt wanted to go with him, that night. Curt remembers it, because it was a party at a bookstore for Bucky’s friend Alex and his first graphic novel, but Curt doesn’t know Alex and it honestly sounded like a bit of a drag, so he’d stayed in and played poker with his roommate’s buddies instead. It was only a couple days later, when Curt had asked Bucky if he wanted to grab a beer and see a movie, that Bucky had said, “Can’t. Got a date with a guy from the book party.”

And now, here he is: blond, and pouty-lipped, and golden-lashed, and angle-jawed; husky drawl and easy sprawl and legs long in his jeans. He had his arm spread over the back of a chair while Bucky got him a drink, and he leaves it there after Bucky sits down. The group has been talking around him, the way they’re used to talking around Bucky’s hookups (Curt had caught a raised eyebrow from Benny after they’d walked in together; he’s not the only one who thinks these things), and he hasn’t been making any effort to involve himself anyway. When Bucky sets the drink in front of him, his broad hand then drops to the guy’s thigh, spreading and squeezing. The smile he gives Bucky is a flicker. As Curt watches, Bucky leans in, and he can’t hear it over the noise of the bar from all the way across the table, but he swears that Bucky asks, “You okay?”

The guy smiles a bit wider then, nodding, and Curt’s tongue feels two sizes too big when Bucky smiles back and reaches up with his other hand to cup the guy’s chin. Maybe Curt only notices it because he’s looking, but it sends his ears buzzing when Bucky’s thumb rubs at that pink bottom lip, tracing the curve of it. Curt has never seen him do that before.

[these-detestable-hands]

More info on octopath week!

I've decided it'll be a month, lasting for 4 weeks in late summer. I'm torn between doing it in August because it's the 8th month, or starting July 8th and finishing on August 8th because 8/8 is octopath day.

There will be 2-3 prompts a week, so as to not overwhelm participators.

Prompts will be revealed a little over a month in advance so people with busier schedules can prepare things in advance.

I'll make a separate blog to promote the event and reblog pieces made for it. Probably just a sideblog so I won't be having any extra mods

Ideas that are not set in stone:

I was thinking each week could have a larger theme for the prompts. For example, one week could be themed around summer and so the prompts might be swimming, fruits and sun. Obviously not using those specifically as they're not really octopath related.

And if you have ideas for prompts, feel free to send me an ask! I'll write down every idea and sort through all of them.

[mageofquandrix]

Hey guys, my brain is soup and probably will be for a while, so I’m giving up on any actual plot writing any time soon. You know what that means. It’s gonna be smut.

I’m taking ideas and prompts, please send them my way.

I write m!Rook, and can write the following ships:

Emmrich/Rook

Neve/Rook

Ot3 Rook/Neve/Lucanis

+also Trevelyan/Dorian (and rook/tarquin)

(Feel free to send other ships, I just don’t have their voices down and haven’t seen their romances, and again, soup brain. But if it inspires something I’ll still write it.)

Anyway, help me lol.

[httpiastri]

honestly don't know how to do this in the best way possible, but i wanted to post something today and so here we go:

today marks exactly one year since i posted my first fic on here. it's crazy how fast time flies – it feels like yesterday that i started this blog, to be honest.

last summer, when i was most active, was truly one of the best times of my life. but the rest of these last 365 days have been pretty awful for me in my irl life, to be completely honest. i've been a real train wreck, and in periods i've felt worse than ever before in my life. and honestly, i think f1blr is the reason i've been able to make it through everything. i do not know what i would've done to keep at least some happiness in my life if i hadn't had this platform and everyone on it.

never in my wildest dreams would i ever have been able to imagine this community meaning this much to me. i never expected it to have such a wonderful effect on my life. but here i am, a year later, so blessed for all of the things i've gotten to experience and all of the people i've met. i'm insanely thankful for you all; everyone from close friends, to anyone who's ever sent an ask or left a comment/reblog on a fic, and to readers who just check in every once in a while. you mean the world to me.

i'm sure that this all sounds sappy and overdramatic, and that's fine because this has not been planned out & it's purely just what i'm thinking and feeling in the moment, but it's all 100% true. thank you all for everything, let's share another great year together 🩷

[h0nkshroom]

gently places these in your hands and cartwheels away into the night

[its-mayo0]

I've been drawing a lot

[rip-headphones-users]

Confrontation

Lampert: kas.

Lampert: kasper please- I’ll call someone. Let me get DrRetro on the line maybe she can do something.

Kasper: … U d0nt have 2 d0 that.

Lampert: no- Kasper I promise I’m here for you, you don’t have to fight alone… you’ve never had to fight alone!

Lampert: I’m right here.

Kasper: It’s L8 4 th4t now.

Lampert: no- no you don’t know what you’re doing!

Kasper: 1 want th1s.

Lampert: …

Lampert: I’m not letting that happen.

Lampert: I need you alive.

…

How else would you expect someone to react to news like that?

I’ve been trying to bounce something to name this AU around in my head (though it’s probably technically cannon divergence lol) and I’m thinking maybe 2-Point-Perspective? But if any of you have any ideas feel free to tell me. Also I have enough of a solid direction in my head for where I’m going with this to answer asks now if you’re curious about what the hell is happening lol. I am writing a fic but it’s gonna be a while until I’m confident enough with what I’ve written to post it lol.

[haku23]

I originally planned to finish the one on the left but . i couldn't figure out what i wanted to do with it so alas. have it as it is lmao

[schneiderenjoyer]

[Attention! UTTU Magazine is holding a special limited run "Live Letter Interview" issue with featured guests, Vertin & Schneider!]

Grab yourself a copy and submit your inquiry through the arcane skill embedded within this edition's magazine. The message will be received in real time and you'll have your answer by way of exclusive UTTU cards!

Remember, this is a limited run, so don't miss the chance to ask all you want to know from the arcanist themself before the incantation wears off!

[flopity-flips]

for those of you who don't follow my twitter I've pretty much just been procrastinating other projects by using blender to make renders which I've never done before lmao

[andreehanart]

lesbian azula but her flames are the lesbian flag colours

Happy pride month to HER