#i relate to dew a little

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Swiss hurt/comfort because I love him. So, so much. Featuring Dew being the absolute best.

It's a peculiar feeling, being the only multi ghoul in the Ministry. Sure, there are some who come close, like three-elemental hybrid Aurora, but Swiss remains, to this day, the only ghoul to detain control of all five elements. Well. "Control" might be a strong word.

He is good with fire, has always been drawn to this element specifically. Quickly started hanging out with the fire ghoul bunch after his summoning, feeling like he might fit in best with them. He is good, yes, but no more than that. Good. Average good. Nothing like the effortless and precise mastery of the element displayed by the fire ghouls.

Air comes relatively easily to Swiss. He has Cumulus and Cirrus to thank for that. Summoned at the same time as them, he remains very close to the girls, and spent countless afternoon practicing with them, learning how to weave breezes and gusts of wind, earning countless praises and kisses whenever he made progress. Still, Swiss has none of the girls' grace or range when it comes to manipulating their common element.

Surprisingly, he is quite good with quintessence as well. Quintessence, this mysterious, elusive element that's known to be so hard to control, somehow doesn't give Swiss as much troubles as he'd expected. In Aether's opinion, it might be that Swiss is so very curious of people, his mind craving connection, which would encourage the spark of quintessence within his grasp. But of course, because there always is a "but", Swiss is far from fully in control of it. He would never try what Aether successfully does to calm pain, soothe nerves or various other things.

When it comes to water...well. Swiss can, with a lot of focus, fuck around with weak currents, direct some droplets to splash someone in the face, or even, thanks to Rain's patient efforts, developpe small gills which allow him to breath semi-decently underneath the surface of the lake, but that's about it. Swiss, as much as he sometimes wishes he could, will never slink through the currents with the water ghouls' elegancy, silent and blending in so very well with their element.

Which leaves earth. Ah, earth. Swiss can feel it, the thrumming under his skin whenever he's surrounded by the element, in the forest guarding the Ministry's grounds or even Primo's beautiful rose garden. Yet Swiss can barely access to that power keeping itself just out of grasp, almost as if it was taunting him. No amount of time spent in the greenhouses helping Mountain, listening to his advice or copying his careful gestures can change that. But Swiss knows it's there, can feel it, and, on rare occasions, has his suspicions confirmed when flowers sprouts around his horns after being subjected to especially intense emotions.

So that is what Swiss is. Jack of all trades, master of none. And it gets to him, sometimes. He knows, realistically speaking, that people like him. That the Clergy sees him as a blessing, the Siblings are irresistibly drawn to him, that the ghouls are all over him. And yet, sometimes, he cannot help but feel like an outsider, a freak, something that shouldn't be, or at least shouldn't be that way.

It's often Dew who notices first when Swiss starts spiralling that way. Everyone always underestimates how perceptive and attentive to others the fire ghoul is, but Swiss has been on the receiving end of his quiet comfort enough times to know Dew cares, a lot. And somehow, when Swiss is overwhelmed by the objectively speaking irrationnal feeling of not belonging, Dew always manages to reassure him.

Maybe it's because the fire ghoul remembers his water days, when he struggled to connect with his element and felt like a disappointment, even with Mist always fiercely supporting him and expressing her pride in what Dew grew to become. In any case, he always find the words to appease Swiss, or, when words aren't what he needs, what to do to make him feel better.

A hand slipping in Swiss', an arm slung around his shoulders. A press of forehead against his, a cheeky kiss at the corner of his mouth. Sometimes, understanding that all Swiss needs is to be smothered with affection, Dew simply throws himself at the multi ghoul and wrestles him onto his back with surprising strenght before calling for a cuddle pile.

It's harder to feel like an outsider when your packmates are all purring and making happy noises on top of you.

[moons-among-distant-stars]

lore!!! yippee!!! also poor BROS, i hope they get a break and a muffin (i know they have no mouths) soon, also glad to see them in the broadcast with habitually stargazing after the incident

also i love habitually stargazing's dress, he wears it very well.

with the radio silence from VOS, is there a member of the group who's taken up the leadership mantle? or are things fairly equal all around?

HS: That's a good question.

HS: I don't think there's a "leader" here.

HS: We all learned that we can't rely on Vastness of Silence pretty quickly, so we tried to help each other, instead.

HS: It became easier with every new unit built. We welcomed the new ones into the world, taught them how to function. There was always someone to help if you encountered any trouble.

HS: It was better to stay out of Vastness of Silence's way, and I think that was what brought us so close together.

BROS: Right, right. It is a cute story~

BROS: That was when our creators were still around, though.

BROS: These days, it feels like I'm the one holding this group together...

BROS: They'd probably forget to talk to each other in a matter of cycles if I weren't around!

[thelampisaflashlight]

Some Dew specific headcanons, because my post last night has me thinking about him, again. Let's go.

-Says he doesn't have a hair care routine, but a thousand percent actually does... he just doesn't realize that's what it is.

He follows a specific pattern with how and when he washes and conditions his hair, and when he just lets it be, and he even changes up what products he's using depending on the season, not because he heard that was a thing, but because he went, "Well, my skin gets pretty dry during the winter, I should use something moisturizing, right...?"

Rinse and repeat, ya know?

Also does a lot more skin care than he thought.

-He doesn't stay up late anymore unless it's during tour or a special occasion, because this man wants to sleep dammit.

While most of the other ghouls are staying up until the dawn every other night, Dew is in his room by 9pm and asleep by 11pm at the latest.

If he's doing something and he sees it's close to his bedtime, he just wraps things up unless he only has a little bit left.

He has no shame in setting something aside, even though his younger, newly ghoulified self would've gotten into a panic over deadlines and getting his work done... older, seasoned ghoul Dew?

Nah, shit can wait.

-The guy who knows how to fix *almost* everything. Refuses to do anything involving plumbing or electrical work, not because he thinks he couldn't do it, but because he'd rather have someone else take care of the problem so he can go about his other tasks unimpeded.

Did unclog Rain's shower once, but that's because it was his hair stuck in the drain.

And lastly;

-Copia's go-to for handling band related tasks and errands when they're not on tour, because it's easier to send Dew out with a list than to wait around for someone else to do it or have to get something delivered.

Dew is also able to find adequate replacements for products they can't replace right away or they know will get lost and/or intentionally left behind.

Sure, he could just order things online anyway, but who else will go out for a package of guitar strings and come back with a bonus baggy of fresh croissants and the latest local gossip about that, "shady cult in the woods" that's totally not just the people in the town nearby talking about them, nooo...

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Seasons with you

pairing: changbin x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers au

word count: 5.0k

warnings: vague descriptions of anxiety, insecurities, depression, abusive exes (not physically), lots of metaphors, they're in love your honor!

a/n: okay this might be one of my favorite fics i ever wrote, i got so emotional and sappy while writing it (i cried aksksll) and i hope y'all love this as much as i love it🥹🩷 binnie deserves the world and so do you, reader💕

(the book i'm referencing in my fic is called 'my name is memory' by ann brashares)

~check out my: Masterlist

🌸SPRING🌸

It is a known fact that everything comes alive with the arrival of spring. The sun rises earlier in the morning, illuminating the trees and the flowers, uncovering new sights to be seen, ones that were blanketed by the darkness of the night before.

The first drops of dew are heavy on a small leaf, making it bend but never break as they slide down to the grass, all the way into the earth below, satiating it's thirst, kissing the roots buried deep.

It's silly to think so, but you kind of relate to the little leaf as you sit on your picnic blanket and stare at it. You always bend to other people's will, always put yourself in the second place, forgetting about your own needs, telling them and yourself that it's fine and you're fine just like this. You bend and bend, and you wonder how much longer you can bend without breaking.

Sometimes you're the little drop in the sea of other drops, invisible and unremarkable, existing just to serve some higher purpose, to feed the earth and disappear like you never even existed before.

Thoughts like this plague your mind often times, especially on a beautiful day like this, when the sun is shining high in the sky, revealing all the colors of pretty flowers that bloomed in the grass, the clouds that look like cotton candy, so fluffy you wish you could bite into them and taste the sweetness of sugar.

The serenity and the beauty around you only feed into the sorrowful black hole inside you that grows bigger and bigger each time you give a piece of yourself and get nothing in return.

Everything comes alive with the arrival of spring, and you hope that this spring you will come alive too, blossom with all the pretty flowers, be one of them and not just a disregardable little leaf.

You wouldn't dream of being the sun itself, when that title is already taken, saved in your heart for your best friend Changbin. The one who is as warm and bright as the sun itself that you're sure the flowers bloom whenever he passes by them. They bask in his incadescence, seeking his light just like you do, but you would never ask for too much, never say it out loud, never bother him with the darkest parts of you in fear of dimming his brightness.

You have no idea that you don't even need to ask, Changbin would reach up and pluck the stars out of the sky only for you, just so he can see that beautiful smile you give him as he approaches you. And as much as he loves the smile that dances on your lips, he can't help but notice every time that it doesn't reach your eyes.

You hide, but the eyes are a mirror to the soul and the dark hole that grows inside you is reflected in your gaze, making Changbin wish he could reach in and touch your soul, illuminate the darkest parts of you. Where you see yourself as the insignificant leaf, he sees you as the most beautiful flower, too delicate to be plucked out roughly like you were before when uncaring hands wrapped around you. Where you see yourself as a little droplet, disappearing and forgettable, he sees you as the water giving life to everything and everyone you come in touch with, the love you carry inside your heart for others quenching their thirst as you scatter parts of yourself all around.

You wave at him, your other hand coming up to shield your eyes from the rays of sun peeking through the leaves as they start rustling. The wind is picking up and your eyes fall to the flowers swaying in the field and then back to your friend's fluffy hair, swaying in unison with the flowers.

Changbin waves back at you, a smile so big on his face that you wish it was all yours, you wish you could be selfish like that and keep him all to yourself, but you can't.

"You left without me."- he pouts as he sits next to you, placing the basket he brought next to his legs.

"Sorry, I peeked into your room and you were still asleep. I didn't want to wake you."- you say, placing your book aside as Changbin opens up the basket.

"Brought you apples."- he says, knowing it was your favorite thing to eat early in the morning. "I washed them, too!"- he adds as he hands you one and you chuckle.

"Thanks, Binnie."- you smile and bite into the apple. It's the perfect sour and refreshing taste sprinkling on your tongue and waking you up a little, spreading through your body.

"Are you still reading that book about soulmates?"- Changbin asks, getting more comfortable on the blanket as he chews on an apple too, the crunchy sounds filling your ears, melting together with the birds singing in the tree above you.

"Yes well, it's the third time I'm reading it actually."

"Doesn't it have a sad ending?"- he asks, tilting his head to look at you as you stare ahead, counting how many red flowers you can see in front of you. Sometimes counting stuff like that calms you down and you do it almost subconsciously, listening to what Changbin is talking about at the same time.

"Not everything is meant to have a happy ending."- you sigh, he reads between the lines. You're referring to yourself, he knows it as well as you do and it's like a thorn in his heart, piercing through the muscle, making him bleed red, red like the flowers you're tallying up.

"Maybe the journey should be appreciated more than just wanting to skip to an ending. Be it happy or sad."- he smiles and you chuckle at his words, the warmness of the sun on your legs is nothing compared to the warmness Changbin envelopes your heart with.

"Maybe."- you shrug, your apathy deeply rooted inside you, you're stubborn like a child and you can't or maybe don't want to let the sunshine in.

🌸

Today must be a special day, a day filled with warmth and laughter. You don't remember the last time you had this much fun, the last time you were this carefree, finally forgetting about what you have to do and who wants to tear away another piece of you.

There's a fair in town, one that has been a constant in your lives, you attended it every year, ever since you were kids when your mothers had to hold your hands and warn you not to wander too far. You never missed a year and this one was probably your favorite.

The only thoughts in your head are Changbin and how you had to try so hard to resist kissing him all over his face when he picked up a kalimba from one of the stands and started playing a random melody on it.

He looked so gleeful like he was that child again, your best friend, who grew up with you and who you grew to love more than yourself, so irresistible and loveable to you. He focused on the instrument in his hands and you didn't want to shatter the sweet moment even though he wasn't even hitting any of the notes right.

"I'll get it for you."- you say when he finally looks up at you, his eyes are shiny as he smiles.

"Really?!"- he asks excitedly and you nod, thinking nothing of it, it wasn't something very expensive and you didn't mind buying him a gift he liked but to Changbin it meant so much more.

After all, he still has the pretty rock you found on the beach when you were 9 and gave it to him as a present, claiming you were sure that it was the prettiest one and that he deserves to have it.

"I swear I'll learn to play it."- he says after you pay for it, making you laugh.

"I'm expecting a full concert."- you tease, wiggling your eyebrows.

"With an encore!"- he adds, both of you giggling as you stroll together, your shoulders brushing occasionally, making your heart skip a beat or two.

You browse through many stands and both of you get hungry, stomach growling and legs cramping from all the walking. You decide to get some dessert, pancakes with ice cream, and you sit on one of the benches, the view of people eating, laughing and talking with their loved ones before you.

Changbin notices pretty flowers right there next to him and he gently plucks one out. You look at him and he smiles at you, like you're the most beautiful of them all as his hand reaches towards you and places the flower in your hair.

"What is that for?"- you chuckle, your cheeks warm and you almost bring your hand up to touch them, but you're balancing the ice cream pancake in your lap, you don't want it to fall and make a mess of your clothes and the floor.

"Looks prettier there."- he says and your breath is caught in your throat.

He means the flower, not you, it's not you, it's never you, that is what you think.

You don't say anything, you look back at your food and Changbin deflates, wishing he could find a delicate way to yell out how beautiful you are, how precious your heart is and how rare a soul like yours is. He wishes to do so quietly, so you don't get scared and run off like a vunerable animal that jumps at any loud sound.

You feel down suddenly, but Changbin doesn't let you feel blue for too long, quickly changing the subject to something funny he remembered or a movie he found interesting.

And when you finish your pancake, your stomach is full and so is your heart. Even just for a moment, you feel full.

You start walking back home, your legs hurting and Changbin offers you to climb on his back and you do so, both of you laughing as he jokes around, pretending he'll drop you as you squeal before he actually starts walking normally with you attached to his back. He carries you home as your limbs wrap around him, wrapping around his heart even more.

You fall asleep as he carries you and he hates having to wake you up as he stands on your porch.

Your peaceful sleepy state is something Chanbgin wishes you could have when you're awake. He wishes he could be your peace, your comfort, your home.

And as he bids you good night, he stands on the porch a little longer than he needed to, even after you close and lock the door.

"I love you."- he whispers, his hand clutching the kalimba you so happily bought for him.

🫧SUMMER🫧

You don't like it. None of it. Not the weather, not the sun constantly making you feel like you're sizzling, not the crowded streets, not the laughter and squeals you can hear whenever you arrive at a beach.

You're a starfish, arms and legs spread out on your bed as you melt into it, the only sounds you hear are the fan turning and the music playing low as you stare up at the ceiling.

There are weird little spots on the ceiling, they were always there, you remember them since you were a child and you know how many there are. Exactly 43 of them but you will count them again and again, with the thought that a new one may appear any day now.

You concentration is broken on spot number 21, when Changbin walks into your room carrying a towel and a backpack.

"No."- you say before he can even open his mouth and he shakes his head, opting to try a light approach as he chuckles at you.

"You're gonna burn a hole into that bed if you keep laying in it."- he says.

"Great. Maybe it swallows me."- you say.

"You're a grim little thing, aren't you?"- he asks and you laugh, throwing a plushie at him but he manages to catch it mid-air.

"Come on, look I have watermelon. And sandwiches. And cards, we can play cards, you love that. And I brought my portable speaker."- he pouts at you and how can you say no to that?

"Alright, alright, you won me over. Give me 15 minutes to get ready."- you say, finally getting up and only then feeling how sweaty your back actually is.

Changbin waits for you in the kitchen, as you pick yourself up, take a quick shower and finish getting ready.

Your heart flutters just a little when you come down and see him helping your mom with the dishes.

In moments like this you wish you could tell him how much he means to you but your tongue twists, a knot in your stomach and a void inside your chest pulls you deeper under water, drowning you in the darkest depths of the ocean.

There's a smile on Changbin's lips the whole way to the beach as he leads you down the path you're familiar with, where your feet have padded through countless times before.

It's unbearably hot and you try to chase the shade as much as you can, the crickets screaming in unison with your burning skin. The closer you get to the beach, the more excitement courses through your veins and Changbin notices how the ends of your lips quirk up and how there's a skip in your step. His mood instantly shifts, matching your pace before the two of you start racing to the beach and giggling like crazy.

"Whoever gets there last, pays for lunch!"- you shriek as you start running, and Changbin scampers behind you slowly, ofcourse letting you win as he looks at your figure getting further away from him and fusing into the sparkly ocean and the blue sky before you.

The little giggles spilling from your lips fuel his heart and his desire to drink from your lips and taste the love that you carry inside you. He hurries to catch up and you turn to look at him breathless, weightless, elated.

The smile he loves reaches your eyes, for a fleeting moment, the sparkle that he unknowingly ignites is burning in your irises, bringing your soul out transparently only for him.

"Thank you for lunch in advance."- you smirk and he giggles.

"You don't have to thank me."- Changbin says and he means it, you don't have to thank him for anything he does for you, he would do it in a heartbeat again and again.

The two of you make it to the water, finally stripping and all but running into the water, excited to cool off a little on a hot summer day.

As soon as you adjust to the temperature of the water, laughter travels through the air between the sounds of splashes as you and Changbin start playing around, not caring if anyone is looking at you, feeling like only the two of you exist.

You wished every day of your life feels just like this.

Only when you get exhausted and the skin on your fingertips shrivels is when you finally get out of the ocean. Changbin is quick to grab a towel and put it around you, another one of the little things he does that makes your face and chest warm.

He opens the mini portable fridge, taking out some watermelon that was cut into pieces. You are the dj, playing some music on his speaker as the two of you settle into a chat.

You get lost in the ocean, watching as the waves roll and roll, your head is a little dizzy and it feels like your body rolls and crashes together with the waves. At first, it soothes you together with Changbin talking about some new band he discovered. Suddenly you feel like something's grabbing your ankles and pulling you down, and you try to fight against it. But the turmoil grows bigger and stronger, grappling to pull your head under water. You want to fight so bad, you wish to have it in you to fight for survival but you are just so tired and you have no fight left inside you anymore.

The sweet juice from the watermelon melts down your fingers, mixing with the salty tears sliding from your face down to your hand.

"Y/n?"- Changbin looks at you. "What's wrong?"- he asks, his face turning into a face of worry, his eyebrows pinched together.

You hate it, hate seeing him unhappy, hate bothering him with your silly little outbursts that you don't even know the cause of.

"N-nothing. I don't know."- you wipe at your face and his eyes soften, his hand coming up to caress your upper back gently.

"It's okay. We can count the clouds together and take deep breaths, what do you say?"- he smiles and you're slowly being pulled up from under the ocean, Changbin being the first thing you see as you emerge out and steady yourself, his hand searching for yours, fingers slotting perfectly together.

You count and he squeezes your hand, sticky from the watermelon but neither of you care. All you care about is him, and all he cares about is you finding your way back to him.

That evening, Changbin goes home with a new pretty rock you found before the two of you made your way back from the beach.

He places it next to the other one,

"I love you."

🍁FALL🍁

The heat has gone away, replaced by crisp air and the smell of petrichor. The rain drips, drips, drips on your windowpane as you sit with your warm cup of tea, a comfy blanket wrapped around your body, your book laying on the side forgotten as Changbin paces around the room, talking excitedly about some people he met who share the same love for making music as he does.

You gaze out the window, watching as the leaves fall down, hitting the ground soundlessly and making piles under the trees. You wanna count how many red ones fall down, but you can't, not when your friend is literally bouncing off the walls as he talks, distracting you from the task you gave yourself.

"Okay Binnie, I love that for you but please slow down, you're making me dizzy."- you chuckle.

"Oh! I'm sorry!"- he bursts into laughter with you, before he finally sits down, taking a deep breath in.

He talks about this Chan and Jisung that are apparently geniuses at what they do and he wants to join their little squad, and they want him to make music with them.

You're extremely proud of Changbin, you're estatic for him but you can't help feeling just a tiny bit jelaous and weird, like someone is bursting your little bubble and taking Changbin away from you. You know it's irrational, but you can't stop the tears that slide down your cheeks that night together with the raindrops sliding down your window glass as you stare at it, your legs pulled up to your chest.

You wonder what is wrong with you, why you feel so cold and abandoned, why you feel so completely alone when you know you're not.

You fall asleep only after counting raindrops.

🍁

Halloween might be your favorite holiday ever and Changbin shares the excitement with you as you decide to dress up in matching vampire attire. It wasn't the first idea that came to his mind for costumes but when he saw your puppy eyes and your lower lip jutting out cutely he couldn't say no.

There was a party held by one of your acquaintances from your uni, Hyunjin, who was popular enough to probably have the whole town come to his house, which is what went through your mind as you arrived at the party.

There were too many people for your liking, and Changbin assured you he wouldn't leave your side the whole night and if you needed to get away, he would be your partner in crime.

The evening was going fine until you caught sight of your abusive ex. A chill went down your spine. They never lifted a hand on you physically, but they always took from you, never gave anything in return, they peeled away all the layers, cut out all the pieces, fed their own desires and just kept taking and taking until you were left shattered on the floor like a porcelain doll. There were so many broken pieces that you're sure you'll never be able to glue them back together.

Changbin follows the line of your sight and finds out the reason the look on your face turned sour. He wrapps his arm around you and pulls you closer to him as your ex had the audacity to approach you.

"What are you doing?"- you whisper to Changbin and he just squeezes you gently.

"Trust me."- he whispers back, and you do. You would trust him with your life.

"Well, well, what do we have here?"- your ex smirks.

"A loving couple. You got a problem with that?"- Changbin speaks up and you gasp, you've never seen him speak to someone like that, you always saw him as a soft teddy bear, tender and sweet, always delicate with you like you were made of glass.

Your heart beats hard against your chest at the thought of you and Changbin being a couple, a loving couple at that and you dare to let yourself dream for a second as you drown out the sounds of the party wilding around you and your ex scoffing as they fuck off back into the mass of moving people.

"You okay?"- Changbin asks and you nod.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Surprised they didn't talk back to you, honestly."- you say as Changbin leads you to the couch so you can sit and calm down.

"Maybe they turned over a new leaf."- he says and you chuckle, it sounds so easy to do that, a leaf weighs absolutely nothing. You wish you could do the same, but when the hands are heavy, even lifting something as wispy as a single leaf seems impossible.

Changbin hold your hand again as you sit and count the fairy lights in Hyunjin's living room.

You don't know how, but your eyelids get heavy and you fall asleep on Changbin's shoulder.

His lips gently press into your hair amidst the chaos of the party, something so simple and gentle unfolds as his heart hammers inside his chest, spelling out,

"I love you."

❄️WINTER❄️

It's a yearly occurence, your families get together every Christmas and travel to a big house in the mountains to enjoy winter in all of it's glory; the snow high to your knees, the skiing resorts, the cable car where you can take in all the sights, the mountains massive, strong, soaring, touching the clouds and sky itself, they almost seem surreal to you.

Something like Changbin, who is always strong for you, a rock you can lean on, someone with a soul as big as his definitely touches the clouds and deserves to have the sky.

You almost feel like a little ant staring at the mountain, like you're nothing compared to it. Nothing compared to him.

Thoughts swirl in your mind, painting your soul black again, the dark void is now almost swallowing you whole, you're afraid you'll disappear inside it.

It grows even when your families are all together, wearing stupid christmas sweaters and exchanging gifts, it grows when you and Changbin go sledding, screaming and racing each other which ends up in a snow fight and him profusely apologizing because he hit your leg too hard with a snowball. It grows and grows, and you know you can't bend anymore, you're about to break. About to run out of fake smiles and I'm fine's, terrified of spring coming and nothing ever changing.

The vast snow covered hills and mountains that you stare at look like the void inside you feels, and that void looks back at you and mocks you, laughs at you.

"Hey, it's pretty late. Come inside, you'll get sick."- Changbin appears on the balcony and you jolt out of your thoughts and turn around to look at him.

He looks at you ever so softly, a beacon of light in the darkness of you.

"Where is everyone else?"- you ask, peeking into the living room behind him.

"They went to sleep. It's just you and me. Come on, we'll make some hot chocolate and gossip by the fire."- he wiggles his eyebrows and you can't help but laugh as you follow him inside.

Your eyes are trained on the fire, as Changbin's are on you, the reflections of it dancing on your face and illuminating every single spot, freckle, wrinkle that you have, everything he loves about you, everything he's already counted many times before wishing he could count them with his lips too, not just in his head.

"Is the chocolate good?"- he asks.

"Yeah, perfect."- you nod, but you want to scream. You want to tell him how scared you are of being unloveable and broken, scared of ending up alone, scared of never blossoming into a beautiful flower.

It's like he feels your thoughts and Changbin's heart swells, growing and expanding to fit everything that makes you you inside it, as the words spill from his lips;

"I love you."

Your head snaps towards him, the movement making you spill a few drops of chocolate on your sweatpants.

"W-what?"- you say, sure you've gone deaf in the middle of everything else.

"I love you. I can't keep it in anymore, I'm sorry. I've loved you always and I don't know living without loving you. I don't know who I am if I don't love you."

Your ears ring as you stare into his eyes, the crackling of the fire sounds like the crackling of your heart as it bursts in little fireworks and you feel like you've lifted up into the air, your body weightless like the little leaf, unbothered and carefree, and you cry.

You burst into tears as sobs escape your lips and Changbin's arms envelop around you, keeping you safe and pulling you back down to root yourself in the ground.

"Shh, it's okay. It's gonna be okay. I'm here."- he keeps whispering as he rocks you and you clutch onto him like he'll fade away from existence if you let go.

You want to tell him you're unworthy, that he's so much better than you and he deserves someone with an open heart, not you, the black hole that sucks everything in, you want to tell him you feel as empty as the white snow covered field, you want to tell him of your fear, your insufficiency and your doubt, residing in your soul that was tainted with darkness of other, befouled souls.

But you don't have to say anything, he knows you better than you think he does, and he holds you tightly, like you're the most precious thing to exist since the dawn of time until now.

But most importantly, you want to tell him that you love him too. And you can't. It eats at you as you cry harder but he understands. He always does.

His hands are smoothing down your back as he whispers over and over again;

"I love you."

🫀EPILOGUE🫀

It is a known fact that everything comes alive with the arrival of spring. The sun rises earlier in the morning, illuminating the trees and the flowers, uncovering new sights to be seen, ones that were blanketed by the darkness of the night before.

And with the arrival of this spring, you have come alive too. You're not just a little leaf anymore, nit just a drop of dew, you're the most lovely flower of them all, you're his flower. Like a butterfly you've emerged from your cocoon, more beautiful, more colorful, more mature and loved. Your sun rises in the shape of your wonderful boyfriend, the one who removed the blanket of darkness from your eyes, the one who helped you pick the pieces back up, helped you love yourself.

It's a journey, the hole is still there albeit considerably smaller and you sit and count the red flowers while Changbin feeds you sliced up apples, nothing but love and adoration in his eyes as they observe you.

"Seventy six."- you exclaim suddenly, startling your lover from admiring you.

"Oh yeah? That was pretty fast."- he smirks jokingly at you.

"I'm kinda good at counting, actually I'm a professional at it."- you say matter-of-factly.

"I expect you to count all the kisses I give you today."- he giggles, pecking your cheek.

"Right, like you don't kiss me every second."- you roll your eyes playfully.

"Mhm, acting like you don't like it. Maybe I should just stop and make it easier for you to count when there's less of them."- he jokes and you laugh, the smile gracing your face reaches all the way up to your eyes.

"No, you should keep going. That way, I'll get even better at counting."

You continue joking around, like there's no care in the world, your book is next to your legs, the one you read over and over again. Maybe it doesn't have a happy ending, but now you know you don't need a happy ending in a book because yours is right next to you, being silly for the purpose of making you laugh.

The gaping hole inside you shrinks smaller and smaller and you don't feel like you're constantly on the edge of a cliff anymore. And even if you were, Changbin would be there to catch you.

You're lost in counting his eyelashes as he leans in closer to you and before your lips touch his, you whisper,

"I love you."

🫀

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 21/∞

SHEN YUAN'S ORIGINAL BODY LOOKED VERY SIMILAR TO SHEN QINGQIU'S

Rating: FANON - CONFLICTING

A widely accepted potrayal in fanworks is that Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu have a similar enough appearance to appear as if they were the same person, or at least closely related to one another. While this depiction provides for an exploration of a lot of interesting and entertaining plots, it actually contradicts the novel's text.

When Shen (Yuan) Qingqiu first examines his appearance after transmigrating, he notes the following:

It was a fine-featured face with pitch-black eyes and brows, thin nose and lips, and a most scholarly air. Combined with a slender body and long legs, he could more or less be considered beautiful. Though his real age was unclear, this was a cultivation novel: Shen Qingqiu had achieved Mid Core Formation, which meant he’d perfectly preserved his youthful appearance. He was certainly many times better-looking than Shen Yuan’s headcanon for him. (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

Notably, there is no comparison in this original assessment to Shen Yuan's original body. It would be expected that when one transmigrates into a different body with no relation to their own, the new body wouldn't resemble their original one that much, and that it would be somewhat surprising and notable if it did. Therefore, it could be argued that because Shen Qingqiu does not note any resemblance at this point, that there is little to no resemblance to be seen. However, it's also possible that he simply wasn't thinking too much about his former appearance at this time, and didn't make any comparisons because of that.

More telling, however, is the description of the body he created with the Sun Moon Dew Flower Mushroom:

The human cast they used had been based on his former appearance as Shen Yuan. It didn’t compare to Shen Qingqiu’s immortal poise, but it wasn’t a bad mortal container. It just had a bit of a certain listlessness—the listlessness of a worthless pretty boy idling his life away. But because he’d used some of his blood while cultivating the Dew Mushroom, a touch of foreign influence was inevitable. When Shen Qingqiu tumbled to the side of a creek and used a sharp mountain rock to scrape away his whiskers for a look, his new face was still three or four parts of ten similar to Shen Qingqiu’s. Without a word, he re-pasted the whiskers onto his face. (7 Seas, Ch. 9)

Here it is clearly noted that the mushroom body's resemblance to Shen Qingqiu is due to the influence of Shen Qingqiu using his current body's blood to cultivate it. Even then, it is only a 30-40% resemblance, which is far from identical. Without that influence, the mushroom body, and thus Shen Yuan's original body, would have likely barely resembled Shen Qingqiu's at all.

Furthermore, when Sha Hualing captures Shen Qingqiu to use as a vessel for Luo Binghe's cultivation, she is already aware that Luo Binghe specifically does not want to use cultivators who resembled Shen Qingqiu.

Who could have known that the vessel she had settled on this time would also coincidentally share some similarities with that fucking Shen Qingqiu’s eyes and brows! This was definitely another violation of Luo Binghe’s major taboo! (7 Seas, Ch. 10)

The resemblance between Shen Qingqiu and the mushroom body was slight enough that Sha Hualing didn't notice the resemblance on first glance-- only Luo Binghe, who had spent much more time with Shen Qingqiu, was able to catch it.

Worth noting here as well is the phrase "eyes and brows." In Chinese, this is 眉眼， and while literally it does mean "eyes and brows," 眉眼 also refers to physical appearance in general. So this may describe the specific features where the mushroom body is similar to Shen Qingqiu's, but it is equally likely (and this is how I read it) that it does not refer to specifically his eyes and brows but rather that there was just some similarity in his looks.

In conclusion, it can be said that canonically, the original body of Shen Yuan didn't really look like Shen Qingqiu at all, despite popular depiction. Of course, if the premise of a fanwork revolves around that physical similarity-- for example, if Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu were being portrayed as identical twins-- then just like any other aspect of canon, this one can also be bent and altered in order to fit the story being told. Nonetheless, it is good to remember that this depiction still contradicts canon.

[sserpente]

The Mistletoe Tradition

There was only one piece of decoration left in the box now—it was a dew-fresh mistletoe complete with a red ribbon. And you knew just where to put it.

With a smile, you danced over to Astarion and held the green plant above your head. The vampire spawn looked up, confused and flustered both at the same time.

“Wanna know what my favourite Yule tradition is?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” he purred.

“Whenever two souls are caught under the mistletoe, they have to kiss.”

A/N: I’m not sure if Christmas/Yule is a thing in Faerûn but if it wasn’t… I sure made it a thing now! Worked in some of his actual quotes for it to be even more relatable because we're all simps, lol. Also using Yule and Christmas interchangeably here because I can. Merry Christmas to you all! ♥

Words: 2197

Warnings: fluff

“Jingle Bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…” Humming to yourself, you rummaged through your bag to take a closer look at the items you had snatched on your journey today. A bag full of peanuts, perfect to still your hunger on the road, a new dagger you had taken from a corpse, for your old one was falling apart at the hilt, a letter from an Iron Fist written to Lord Enver Gortash himself, and—perhaps most importantly—a little snow globe you had found in an abandoned cottage. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing and had definitely been worth Lae’zel’s eye roll.

You were headed towards Baldur’s Gate and decided to rest in the Elfsong Tavern where Gale, Wyll, and Halsin were currently discussing the price of a room to stay in for the next couple of days. The air smelled like mulled wine and pine cones, and the tables in the tavern were decorated with tree branches, candles and sliced oranges and cinnamon sticks. The atmosphere was lovely—festive. You leaned against Astarion with your cheek against his chest, a sigh escaping your lips.

The pale elf was quite used to your—at least by his standards—unusual behaviour by now. Well… sort of. He’d expected more hostility toward him after the night he tried to bite you, that much you knew. Instead, you’d offered to help and… huh, secretly drooled all over him.

He certainly knew what he was doing and you hated that it worked. You didn’t want to turn into a giggling and blushing mess in his presence and yet… that was exactly what happened. Every. Single. Day. You tried to hide it as best as you could but at this point, you were pretty certain that he knew you were a hopeless case whenever he was near. And once you’d started sleeping with each other… you had become putty in his hands entirely, desperate for his touch even when it wasn’t sexual.

You offered him a cuddling dose daily now and you never let go until he did.

“All right, everyone. We’re settled. The owner has agreed to give us one of the suites upstairs. It has thirteen beds, its own washing area, and a fireplace. I don’t know about you but I am knackered,” Wyll announced as he cracked his bones.

“You go ahead without me. I’d like to take care of something real quick. I won’t be long,” you said, the idea thundering through your head with a start having you beam from the inside out.

Gale lifted a hand as if to raise everyone’s attention before speaking. “I hope so! I have a perfectly hearty rabbit stew planned for supper.”

It had taken the inn owner ten gold pieces and a lot of convincing to get you a Yule Tree. Was it important in midst of everything that was happening? Possibly not. Were you still humming Christmas songs yet again as you carried a small box full of ornaments and decorations up the wooden stairs to your room? Absolutely.

Gale was already cooking. They all knew the very moment you entered the room with it that the tree someone had brought up in the meantime was your doing. And now, while the others were getting ready to rest for the day, you began decorating the room as if you didn’t have a care in the world. And for just a moment, you pretended you didn’t.

You spotted Astarion glancing at you from the corners of your eye. He’d crossed his arms before his chest, looking as handsome as ever and even more so now with his hair still a little damp from getting the dust of the road off of him.

“Need something?” You smiled, noticing how he admired the pine cones dipped in molten silver and the delicious-smelling orange slices on the tree for just a second too long. The straw stars you were specifically proud of as you stood on your tiptoes and stretched to put the biggest one on the tip of the tree, completing your masterwork.

“Oh, don’t mind me… I’m just enjoying the show.”

You blinked at him, gnashing your teeth as you felt a treacherous heat creeping up your cheeks, for his gaze was by no means fixed on the tree anymore but your behind. At times it was still hard to believe this incredible elf was attracted to you of all people.

“Is this really necessary? I mean, really? You’re wasting our time and energy on decorating a tree?”

“Hey… we won’t know yet if that’s our last Christmas. I don’t mean to be pessimistic but you know just as well as I do that there is a good chance we won’t make it out of this alive. I might as well enjoy the little things until… I can’t. You never know. Besides, this is the first time in weeks we’re sleeping with a roof over our heads. We have beds and a fireplace. I would be silly not to decorate a little, especially with a recent murder right next door.”

“Well… I suppose… but don’t expect me to help you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, oh fangy one! I’m actually done and it looks absolutely amazing, if I may say so.”

Astarion scoffed—playfully so. It was then Halsin joined, admiring your tree up close with a second portion of stew in his hands.

“Well, I think it looks beautiful. There’s no better way to get into the festive spirit than with a little bit of nature in one’s home.”

You fought hard to hide the chuckle bubbling up your throat when Astarion rolled his eyes as soon as the druid turned away again.

“The man really can’t shut up about enjoying the freedom of nature’s gifts.”

You couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing. Needless to say, your companions’ shocked expressions made you cackle even more but perhaps the surprise on Astarion’s face was what brought you even more joy than the way he had mimicked Halsin.

“In the end, it won’t be the mind flayers who kill me. It’ll be you,” you choked out, wiping your eyes with the ball of your thumb. Gods, you were actually crying from laughter.

There was only one piece of decoration left in the box now—it was a dew-fresh mistletoe complete with a red ribbon. And you knew just where to put it.

With a smile, you danced over to Astarion and held the green plant above your head. The vampire spawn looked up, confused and flustered both at the same time.

“Wanna know what my favourite Yule tradition is?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” he purred.

“Whenever two souls are caught under the mistletoe, they have to kiss.”

“Do they now?”

You grinned.

“Well… in that case, we better not risk the wrath of whatever god came up with it.”

“That would be Frigg, wife of Odin and mother of Baldur who never wanted the mistletoe to be forgotten again after Loki—“ You didn’t manage to finish your sentence for in the next moment, Astarion pulled you close and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was a promise and a reward, a display of affection… and a small gesture of care warming your heart.

“How do you always do that?” you murmured against his mouth, breaking the kiss just long enough to draw a deep breath. “Leave me wanting for more? Tempting me?”

“Tempting you, hmm? Well… You know what they say… the only way to cure a temptation… is to give in to it.”

A little squeak escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. You pressed your lips together to a thin line, eyes wide as your hand flew up to your mouth to cover it. But of course, Astarion had heard you. Amused, he quirked an eyebrow.

“What was that?”

“N-nothing.”

“Really? Because I think I heard quite the delectable little noise coming from your lips just now.”

“N-no. Oh gods, you have to stop this. I will melt, Astarion. I will literally melt and then you can go get a mop and wipe me up!”

Astarion laughed, surprise mixing with delight. “Oh, darling, I could go all night… as you well know,” he purred.

Another squeak. He’d caught on to it now, of course—that the reason for those inhumane sounds escaping your body was all his doing. Oh, for fuck’s sake…

“Okay, that’s it.” Arms akimbo, you narrowed your eyes at him. You were all but flustered when you grabbed the collar of his shirt with such vigour, the tiniest hint of surprise and hesitation flittered across his face before his smug smirk returned and you kissed him yet again, longer and more passionately this time.

“You really will be the death of me” you breathed against his lips. “It’s a nice way to go though, I won’t complain.” The urge to rip off his clothes there and then grew stronger with every passing second. You knew he wasn’t ready yet, despite his relentless teasing and you’d be the last person to push him but… judging by how he wrapped his arms around your waist yet again and pressed you closer to his body yet again, a heartfelt kiss was never off limits.

You sighed against his lips, the mistletoe dropping to the ground. Only the gods knew what would have happened if you had not been interrupted despite your fellow companions still in the room but alas, the door burst open with a bang so loud you both flinched.

“This… is… AWESOME!” When Karlach entered the room, she was wearing the ugliest Yule sweater you had ever seen. Tinsel and two baubles were hanging from her horn and in her hands, she held a massive candy cane and a mug of what you assumed was eggnog. “I LOVE Christmas! Oh, you got us a tree! We should go and buy presents for each other to unwrap tomorrow!”

“Karlach, please, it’s late and I’m tired,” Astarion complained.

“Fiiiine, tomorrow morning then. A kid downstairs just told me about this fat guy called Santa who climbs through the chimney and puts gifts under the tree if you leave him cookies and milk. Do we have cookies and milk? We have to get cookies and milk!”

You laughed. In that case… you certainly had a long night ahead of you before you could get a good night’s sleep.

Everyone was fast asleep by the time you got up and tiptoed across the cool floorboards on naked feet in the dark, past the crackling fire in the centre of the warm and cosy room, and toward Astarion’s bed. You could hear the wind blowing outside the tavern in the dead of night as you climbed under the covers and cuddled up to your lover who had, without a doubt, been expecting you. Astarion wrapped you in his arms, his lips grazing your bare neck ever so slightly.

“Hello, darling.”

At peace and content, you both listened to the instruments Gale enchanted to play quiet music to lull you all to sleep.

“Well, aren’t you brave, revealing your lovely neck to a vampire like that?”

You chuckled into his pillow, stretching even more.

“You know… I think we’re past the point now where I have to tell you each night that you can… I mean… if you’re hungry just… feed on me, alright?”

“R-Right.” For a moment, a both vulnerable and surprised expression washed over his handsome face—but it was gone before your memory could properly capture it, not to mention the darkness around you made that very difficult. He was so incredibly good at masking his feelings, that you longed to cuddle the shit out of him and tell him that it was all going to be okay. “Well… I’ve only just learned how wonderful it feels to have a choice and have your boundaries respected, all thanks to you. I’d actually prefer if you asked.”

So instead, you settled for wriggling yourself under the covers until he stirred.

“That’s… that’s good. That’s very good,” you whispered as you cuddled up to him even more.

“So? Can’t you sleep or are you just too excited until morning to see me again, love?”

You chuckled. “Your bed is more comfortable than mine.”

In the dark, it was hard to tell whether Astarion’s confusion was real or feigned. It was amusing nonetheless. “You will find that all the beds in this room are the same, pet.”

“No. No they aren’t. Mine doesn’t have you in it.”

“Oh… my cheeky little pup.”

Your chuckle turned into a childish giggle as a jolt of electricity rippled through you as if Gale had hit you with a lightning blast.

“You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you?” you whispered.

Astarion hummed in response. “Well… yes. Though I have to admit I have never met anyone displaying their excitement as openly as you, darling.”

“I’ll make sure to never stop. Merry Christmas, Astarion.”

The vampire spawn sighed when you shuffled even closer and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

A/N: And Merry Christmas to you all as well! ♥ I had to dedicate this year's Christmas Imagine to Astarion. I fell so hard for him thanks to Neil, it's insane. I hope you'll spend some lovely days with your loved ones! ♥

[missy-hissy]

Mod Updates ~ Summer 2024

This is the Summer 2024 Mod Update post. This collection of updates includes small fixes for the smaller mods, a new addon for an existing mod and some content updates for some of my bigger mods.

Content Updates

🔵The Personality Mod ~ Version 1.3.1.3 ~ Aspiration Addon – Fixed the satisfaction point cost for secondary traits ~ New whimsets for Sims with unique combinations of traits. ~ All occult related wants have been removed from the Knowledge Sim whimset, unless the Sim also has the Paranormal Hobby (from The Hobby Mod).

🟣The Custom Wants Mod ~ Version 2.6.1

~ Updated all images to work with the new DX11 update. ~ Added the following new Wants:

Have a Dream Date With {2.SimName}

Buy Dew Collector

Buy Solar Panels

Ask {2.SimFirstName} To Be Prom Date

Hire a Gardener

Have Coffee With A Friend

Argue About Cleanliness

🟡The Hopes & Fears Mod ~ Version 3.0 Fixes: ~ Illness now generates a reactionary whimset. ~ Illness-related wants now have proper strings showing up. ~ Many of the For Rent wants got missed when I tweaked them, so they’ve now been edited to use the new fulfillment and satisfaction systems. ~ Solve Hard Problems want has been disabled for children since the interaction isn’t available to them. ~ The Hug {Toddler} want should now complete properly. ~ Recreated a Get Famous want which has apparently been deleted by EA. ~ Fixed missing strings for the following wants: Swan Dive, Backflip and making Holiday and Seasonal crafts. ~ Updated all images to work with the new DX11 update. ~ Includes new Wants from The Custom Wants Mod.

New Features: ~ Fear of Vampires ~ After several months, the Fear of Vampires is finally here! More information on this fear can be found on it’s new page. ~ Life Fulfillment ~ A brand new Life Fulfillment feature has arrived, making things a little more interesting for your Sims. Details on the new system can be found on the dedicated Life Fulfillment page.

🟢The Hobby Mod ~ Version 3.3.3 ~ Reduced the frequency with which Hobby Development popups come up. ~ Added Jewellery Crafting as a Fashion & Beauty activity. ~ Fixed some Relbits not showing when Sims share a hobby ~ Made Film Preference Traits visible, ready for future feature ~ Updated all images to work with the new DX11 update. ~ Added basic Blogging Skill (more to come in the next update) ~ Added Travel To Stadium interaction, ready for future features

🔴Teenage Interaction Reactions ~ Version 1.1.2 ~ Added a trigger for a Fear of Vampires if you have Hopes & Fears V3.0 installed. ~ Updated all images to work with the new DX11 update.

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

Small Fixes

Boasting Conversation Category ~ Fixed images for DX11 Announce Engagement Overhaul ~ Fixed images for DX11 Ask Blessing To Marry Overhaul ~ Fixed images for DX11 Check Out Venue Overhaul ~ Fixed images for DX11 Plan Wedding Outfit On Mannequins ~ Fixed images for DX11 Ski Lodge Lot Trait ~ Fixed images for DX11 Occult Holiday Traditions ~ Fixed images for DX11 High School Years Club Activities ~ Fixed images for DX11 Pickpocket Club Activity ~ Fixed images for DX11

[waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle]

ᵤₙfₒᵣₜᵤₙₐₜₑₗy ₛₘᵢₜₜₑₙ ₍ₘₐfᵢₐ bₒₛₛ! Gₒⱼₒ ₓ ᵣₑₐdₑᵣ₎

*　　 　　✦　　　. *　　 　　✦　　　. *　　 　　✦

Summary: Life leads you to treacherous roads after deciding to enter the dangerous life you knew well not to follow.Having gojo by your side inviting you deeper and deeper into all that’s wrong in the world, inciting you to be selfish and carefree wasn’t supposed to be to your liking, so why do you shiver with adrenaline every time he decides to be the devil on your shoulder?

Contents: Mafia boss gojo x secretary reader.(civilian au ig)

-Secret crush Gojo!

-Yandere Gojo

-Physical altercation I guess.

-angst.

Gojo being an egocentric bitch! Wealthy gojo! X no nonsense reader.

Warnings: trigger warning if you’re not interested in anything mafia like drugs or violence related. The narration of this story is inspired by Latin and Asian mafia.

Wc:3k

🏷:@busyreader17 @starlight5cat @xavlyzn (I love y’all for tuning in I appreciate your comments🫶🏻🫶🏻)

Chapter 3

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Some dew drops are seen sliding down the windows of a custom Gulf Stream jet ;due to the rain as it lands on a clandestine pathway in the city of Shanghai, China.

As the wheels below the jet deploy you feel a soft warm hand tap you on shoulder waking you up out of your slumber, as you feel the jet tremble due to the landing;you gasp yourself awake due to the strange circumstances of your awakening.

-“Good morning Miss, I hope your flight with us has been lovely. I’ll leave you a cup of coffee ,a bottle of water and some ibuprofen in the case that you require them. Mr Gojo and Mr Geto are waiting for you outside the jet so you can all head to Báisè de huā villa. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll be taking my leave.-“ Said the flight attendant before taking a bow then leaving.

You wink your eyes in hopes that I’ll help you understand what the fuck she just said,since you slept too little, you were still a bit drunk from all the whiskey from a few hours ago. You popped an ibuprofen then exited the master bedroom which you don’t remember getting into. You notice that your top is now lingering a scent of a mens cologne, but you shrug the thought off and conclude that the alcohol is just messing up your senses.

As you strut through cabin corridor,you quickly spot the jet door.Which leads you to an unknown country full of posibilites or new found problems. You tip tap down the jet stairs in hopes of finding warmth in one of the 5 Ford Everest parked by the path way, but you soon notice that in front of you is your boss and his god mother standing proudly before 2 lines of 20 men , 10 on each side forming a hallway to the vehicles while respectfully bowing down to them. Out of instinct you decide to take a step back to process the power demonstration being held before your boss, you knew he was a shady man but you’ve also never thought of him like anything else but a coworker; as you take a step back you also realize you’ve stepped out barefoot and now you have an un pleasantly wet foot.

-“Fuck.”- You comment making heads turn your way as you practically announce your arrival, as their workers noticed you ;one of them ran over to you to place and umbrella over your head.

As your presence is known; Gojo swiftly turns around and looks at you with slight amusement sparking his blue orbs.

-“How shameful,I should fire you.”-He recites while walking over to you, while making some weird hand gestures tu one of his men.

-“Be my guest.”- you reply as you gather your hair up in a pony tail to look more presentable.-”Lovely weather isn’t it?”-You comment as you rub your feet together trying to fend off the cold.

He scoffs strolling over to you ,knowing he wouldn’t fire you in his wildest dreams, a few seconds after ;the assistant whom he was signing to handed him a box. He then proceeded to crouch his tall figure to the ground , it looked as if he was bowing down to you, then he took some slippers out of the box to then grab an ankle delicately to slip then on. As of you weren’t already nervous due to this unexpected action,the look of his men piercing you made you anxious.

-“I can put them on myself you know. Stand up you’ll get your suit dirty.”-You mumbled squatting down to take the slippers from his hands.

-“Don’t tell me what to do.”-He expressed looking you dead in the eyes as he snatched back the fluffy slipper from your hand putting them back on your other foot.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

3 figures could be seen sitting down in the main dining room of the Báisè de huā villa, it is currently 2 pm and all of you just woke up from a few hours of sleep after you guys arrived from the landing site.

You were now in an impromptu business meeting as your boss explained to you your obligations as his secretary while on this very important work trip.You timidly smiled as you see how the passion for his work ( truthfully power hunger) sparked a passion in his eyes ,as he explained to you how he wanted to add Chinese territories to his reign; starting with Shanghai.

Todays meeting was very important ,here he would be meeting with a very noteworthy drug supplier that worked with very few clients due to the quality of its goods and mainly to avoid getting dragged in between gang wars, the goal for today is to be accepted to the client list and negotiate prices.

You were perfect for the job

He knew that from the moment that Geto and he started stalking you, after seeing how you built wonderful companies from zero, that you were the only one capable of fulfilling their expectations. Yes, you were young, and many people may associate that with immaturity, but your age only highlighted your strategic thinking and endless energy.

You started to supervise some work your underclass men sent you to Japan when you noticed a clothed reflection on your computer screen.

-“Do I bore you?”-The deep familiar voice questioned.

-“Sometimes.”-You snapped back in annoyance due to his stupid questions.

He frowned from your unexpected reply , your tone making him a little sad. He knew you were a woman of firm character,a quality he admired about you ,so he started to worry of what would happen if you found out about what him and geto did.

-“Are you being sincere?”-Gojo asked in a more serious tone.

-“Dead serious.”-You reply as you smile from ear to ear at his “playful” questioning.

As soon as he realized you were playing ,the stress left his shoulders , he sighed and cackled at himself due to his behavior. He barely recognized himself, the guilt is eating him alive, he needed to makeup for it fast.

-“Want to go shopping?”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

The busy Nanjing road if full of locals and tourist.The infrastructure of the shopping districts is breathtaking , the afternoon sunset is reflecting beautifully on the buildings decorated by big led screens and beautiful compositions of glass.

In the big sum of people, Gojo and you found peace due to the fact that, to the naked eye, you were no different from any tourist. Your boss stayed close to you as he scanned the environment with his icy blue eyes; he hid his hands in his cashmere pockets as he looked down on you.

-“I have a surprise, c’mon, follow me, princess.” - Your heart skipped a beat as you heard those sweet words come out of his pink lips. For some reason unknown to you, your boss only let out those teasing words in front of you. You decided not to think much of it since you knew he had his fair share of good-looking girls behind him. You knew your place, his secretary, nothing more.

His calloused, cold hand grabbed yours as he calmly walked through the crowd; he looked ahead so calmly. You felt embarrassed for thinking anything of his nonchalant attitude. But to him, oh man. His heart was running a thousand miles per hour; the only thing he could do to hide his blushing cheeks is to look ahead. Your hand felt so warm, so soft, so small against his; that only led him to wonder what the rest of you feels like. For a woman with such a small frame, you surely had too much attitude. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t fantasize about all the ways he could tame that cheeky attitude of yours. In the end, that white-haired man decided it was better for him to stop such wild thoughts before he started having issues controlling his breathing.

When both of you arrived at the store, the sales assistant immediately recognized the tall man beside you and promptly led you to a private room. It seemed to be a private dressing room; it was composed of a luxurious cream sofa, a extravagant white wood table, and what seemed to be another small room to dress in. On top of the table was a black suede box with a red bow that screamed open me!

You look over to the grinning figure beside you for permission, and as soon as he gives you the green light, you scramble to open the mystery box, which reveals a beautiful turquoise Qi pao with tiny white flowers detailing the side of your hip. The cloth ended at mid-knee and seemed like silk; it glided beautifully under your fingertips, and the stitching was impeccable. Once the sales assistant noticed you were satisfied with the dress, she took her leave.

-“You shouldn’t have.”-You gasped.

-“Oh, but I did.”-He sweet-talked as he started getting closer to your face.-”How about you model that piece for me as a thank you.”

-“Model for you?”-you giggled.-“I’d rather pay credit.”- You say as you searched your purse.

-“Fuck.”- He mumbles under his breath as he drags one hand on his face.-“I’m starting to think you get a high from contradicting me, when will you stop playing dumb, my dear.”-he taps your forehead with his index finger as he mutters this sentence.

You grab his hand, catching him off guard.

-“I don’t know if fooling around with me is your source of entertainment for today, but please consider that it’s not normal for a man such as yourself to grab my hand and plan surprises for me and take me to foreign countries. I’m aware it’s all for business reasons, so I beg you to keep this as strictly professional as possible.”

With a swift movement; your hand still in his, he turns you around to face the mirror as he positions himself behind you, towering over you as he hugs you with the arm you're both holding hands with. You gulp at the sight of his broad shoulders contrasting your own back, at the way you're engulfing yourself with his aroma, sweating at the way he dared to rest his head on your other shoulder just to whisper…

-“What if it wasn’t for business, what if the absolute truth was that you drive me crazy.”-He groaned as he looked intently at your cute expressions through the mirror.-“The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you make me want to have some damn morals just so I can have the right to talk to someone like you.”

You shake your head as you refuse to accept the reality of the situation you're in.

-“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Gojo.”

He bit his tongue in anger and frustration; all he could do is tighten his jaw in hopes he wouldn’t say anything stupid.

-“Good, cause all that’s not the fucking case.”-He left the room after spitting that out in resentment at the way you turned down his feelings as he was a beggar. He knew it; he’s a fucking idiot for ever having hope; all he’s done on this trip is embarrass himself in front of you. Having to swallow his feelings these 2 years drove him to insanity; all he wanted was to include you in his life’s plans, why couldn’t you accept that?

Oh, he clearly knew why.

It’s because you deserve better.

You deserve a Prince Charming who will offer you peace and warmth, someone who works a 9-5, someone who has a family life to offer you, probably someone who doesn’t have to carry a gun in his waistband to protect himself from all the bad things he’s done in the past, someone not crazy enough to kill for you or even better someone who’s not masochistic enough to live with the burden of his unrequited sentiments towards you.

But in the end, he knew he was selfish; that’s how he got to where he is today. He knew damn well you deserved better, so why did he still have the irresistible urge to steal you away, to drown you in his feelings to the point where you couldn’t deny them.

He laughed, no cackled at himself outside of your dressing room; you had no idea what you had coming.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Three champagne glasses clicked in celebration of a newfound business project. Tonight’s meeting has been a success, even though you’ve been burning your brain cells trying to decipher what the hell happened at the boutique this afternoon. You were clearly distracted but not to the point you forgot why you were here in the first place.

You sat back into your seat, participating in idle chit-chat with the supplier. Meanwhile, your tight turquoise Qi pao emphasized your waist, the slit by your thigh earning some stolen glances from your boss as he still acted indifferent towards you after today's spectacle.

Geto could already smell what was happening between you two, but in reality, he didn’t care one bit to even ask about it. So all he could do was stand by the door, keeping watch for any potential danger.

The meeting concluded wonderfully, so you said your goodbyes to the supplier to excuse yourself to the bathroom, allowing yourself to think straight for a few minutes before returning to your chaotic reality.

As you finished washing your hands, you touched your nape with your cold hands with the hopes of cooling down your body heat. After fanning yourself a few times, you exited the bathroom.

But to your surprise, you found a familiar face in the hallway.

-“Miss! You’re Gojo’s secretary right?”-The supplier asked, waving his hands at you to come over.

-“Yes, sir, can I help you with anything?”-You answered with a grin.

-“If you’re so very kind, I’d like to know what kind of jet you both traveled here in, because I’d also like one that can hold as much cocaine as yours do.”

You chuckled at the poor guy in front of you, too drunk out of his mind to comprehend what he’s saying.

-“Sir, we didn’t bring any cocaine; the only thing the plane carried were the three people that were in the room with you.”-You smiled as you explained the situation to him.

-“Don’t try to act sly with me, young woman! Your boss just told me that he secretly brought over 400 kilos in that jet of his; he brought them to sell over here while I released some of my product to him.”

As he uttered that sentence, your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach. This morning you were used as a drug mule, and you didn’t even notice it.

You truly thought he would respect your boundaries.

How foolish.

You start to tremble as you start to imagine what could have been if the navy or the immigration officers wanted to inspect the plane and found the three of you with all those drugs in it.

You run back to the bathroom feeling sick, thinking that by slim chance your hard-worked career was almost over. No, your precious life was over if they decided to try you for drug possession in a country as strict as China, all because of his stupid greed.

You dried your sweat as you quickly mapped out an exit back to Japan without your two business partners finding out about you knowing their dirty little secret. Now you knew you couldn’t trust them; it was idiotic of you in the first place to do so.

You quickly ran to the entrance unbeknownst to the fact that Geto was trailing after you since the moment you left the dining room. Sure, he could have prevented the supplier from telling the truth, but that would’ve been even more suspicious in your eyes, so he finally had to let the truth break free.

You signaled over one of the cars that Gojo put at your service; all you hoped for was to get your passport back from the villa and take the first flight back to your home country and maybe even treat yourself to a little crying session in the taxi.

But the moment your hand met the car door handle, a cold force pulled you back by your free hand.

-“Please, baby, let me explain.”-Gojo stated out as he felt his heart rip to shreds due to the liquid pearls forming in your eyes.-“You weren’t supposed to know; I knew we weren’t gonna get caught, so I didn’t want you to know since I knew you’d get nerv-“

A smack was heard echoing the Shanghai streets as Gojo held his red cheek after his sentenced was slapped into the air since you decided to give him a taste of what a liar like him deserved.

-“I fucking hate you!”-you yelled out while pointing a finger at him while wiping your tears with the back of your other hand.-“ I wish I never met any of you motherfuckers!”-You said as you pointed to Geto and his crew.

What surprises all of them next was your ability to get lost in the busy Shanghai streets after crossing a simple street.

Gojo didn’t hesitate to chase after you into unknown territory wishing he could turn time back, unbeknownst to himself that some threatening enemies were watching close by.

*　　 　　✦　　　. *　　 　　✦　　　. *　　 　　✦

A/n: Holy fucking shit man , i hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I hope sacrificing my spine for the time I edited this in one sitting is worth it. Any suggestions or comments let me know!! Have a good day 🥸🫶🏻💋

[nosferatu-png]

Hello! You ship Zephrit right?? I’m genuinely curious as to how this ship came to be, I’ve been digging around and seeing some great art (including yours omg I love your art) is there like concert footage of Ifrit and Zephyr? (Bc Terzomega there is lots of on stage footage and stuff) Anyways, I would love if you could tell me more about zephrit!!

EEE I would love to talk about it!! I'm not sure the exact origins of it so I'm definitely gonna ramble a little (a lot) - but they did have a lot of fun things on stage together!

I do think part of it is just the overall closeness of the Popestar lineup, at least in my opinion. It definitely feels like a lot of other ships along the lines of "these two interacted and have a good energy together and I think they should kiss about it" HAHAHA

But honestly, Ifrit played around so much with everyone and did NOT let Zephyr fade into the background and I really do love that, especially when it's so hard to find good clips of keyboardists.. and Zeph was so lively, it helped that Ifrit was Right There for them to goof around with

Another factor might be that Ifrit and Zephyr were the only two ghouls who didn't move on in the lineup (aside from Ivy, who of course is nor mentioned enough because of how briefly he was there). We got to see Aether, Dew, and Mountain's relationships all evolve together while Zephyr and Ifrit are a little seperate from that, only being there for the year.

And bonus chronic pain/fatigue ghoul X excited heat pack ghoul

Digging in my Zeph Stash but I'm sure I have more and better stage moments hidden somewhere ^^ I am always willing to talk about anything Popestar ghouls, especially Zephyr related!! They're just a bit more difficult to find because there's really only so much recordings online from the era, especially ones that focus on anyone else *but* Terzo

(ALSO I'M SO GLAD U ENJOY MY LIL DOODLES💗🦇💗🦇💗)

‼️FLASH WARNING FOR THE GIF UNDER THE CUT‼️

[iamthecomet]

hi, do you still take requests? I would love to see some broken limbs related comfort (does that count as a sick fic?). like mountain helping rain walk cus he lost his crutch or cirrus helping cumulus wash her hair since it's hard to do with a cast on her arm. (implying there's a reason they can't insta heal)

I do still take requests! It just sometimes takes me a really long time to get to them. But this one got my brain whirling. I haven't written much (any?) of it in the Ghost fandom but I am a big fan of whump (the injury version of a sick fic). So thank you for giving me an opportunity to inflict some pain (and comfort) on our favorites. Almost 1.2k of Aeon & Swiss hurt/comfort under the cut (no broken bones, because this is what came to me instead).

Aeon loves quintessence. He loves the electric shock of it. The tingling warmth. The way he can ease pain, and loosen muscles with a little press of his fingers. How he chases away Dew's headaches, and Cumulus' lower back pain. How he can loosen up Rain's hips, and Mountain's shoulders with barely a flex of his muscles. The only thing he hates about it, is the limitations. The fact that he can't do it to himself. Can't turn his power around and soothe his own aches. Most of the time, it isn't a problem. He's flexible, loose, spry. His vessel isn't prone to tense muscles or joint pain--maybe a product of his quintessence nature. He doesn't know. What he does know, is he's in agony. Something happened during Square Hammer. He got a little to overzealous with his movements and slipped on errant confetti. Hand coming up to grip the closest thing to him--the edge of Mountain's drum platform. His grip kept him upright, but wrenched on his shoulder as he regained his balence. Forcing an uncomfortable pop in his shoulder that he felt radiate through his entire body. A sickening thud, followed closely by immediate alarm bells in his head. That's not right. Something is wrong. It didn't hurt--not right away. Too caught up in the sudden wrongness of it. Adrenaline, already pumping through him from the show, dumping into his blood at an alarming rate. He thought he was fine. The pain started just before the end of the song. A dull ache radiating across his shoulder. Slowly gaining heat and intensity. Now, he's standing next to Swiss, about to bow, feeling like if he doesn't get off of this stage right now he's going to collapse in front of twenty thousand people. His stomach twists. The pain is bright and not now. Molten. Deep in his shoulder. Moving it, even just a little, raises a strange sense of dread through his body. Like something at the base of his brainstem knows he shouldn't do that. That catastrophe will happen if he does. Fight or flight directed toward his own body--his own pain. He wishes he could run from it. That he could just take off--run fast enough to leave this pain on the stage. Spread out and abandoned. Instead it's all he can do to bow without bursting into tears. When Swiss claps his hand over Aeon's shoulder, he winces. Pain drags up his neck, into his skull. Swiss notices, of course he does. Gaze lingering on Aeon for a second too long. Aeon flushes under his mask--embarassed even though he doesn't know why. He can't see Swiss' eyes but he can picture the way they're narrowing behind those dark lenses. Aeon looks away first, he shrugs it off. He makes it off stage, into the dressing room, and halfway out of his uniform before the trouble really starts. Everything is fine until he goes to pull his compression shirt off. The vest went fine, and the button up shirt beneath. He'd shrugged them off, letting them fall to the floor in a heap. But now--this--fuck. He should have just worn the sleeves tonight. He curses himself, looks at the compression sleeves sitting neglected in his trunk. He thought about it--but after a few shows of constantly having to adjust them back up on his arms he'd opted for the full shirt to save him some aggravation. He swears, under his breath. Glamor rapidly failing him as he feels fangs prick against his lip, and the bite of claws into his palms. He tries to get it under control, grasping at straws for any hint of control, of magic, of relief. "You ok, Bug?" Swiss is gentle this time when he touches Aeon. Avoiding the shoulder all together and opting for a heavy warm palm on his waist. Aeon feels panic crawl up his throat, hot and insistent. Filling him with the need to go. To run. To scream. Instead, he whines. Pain breaking out through his clenched teeth. Swiss stiffens, the usually casual air of his evaporating, replaced with worry. "Aeon." "I did something--my shoulder," Aeon's cheeks get hot, eyes watering. "It's not getting better. And I can't get my fucking shirt off."

"Let me help." Swiss is gentle when he slips his fingers beneath the compression fabric. Aeon allows himself to be undressed--not much else he can do. He can barely lift his arm, but Swiss manages, gentling the fabric of hot swollen flesh and dropping it onto the ground with everything else. "Hurts," Aeon says as Swiss looks at his shoulder--investigating without being asked. Aeon wishes Aether were here, he'd at least talk to him while he did this. He'd make Aeon feel better. Swiss just looks, shifts Aeon's arm this way and that like he knows what he's looking for. "I'm sure it does," Swiss mumbles. Then Aeon feels it--a tiny spark. Quintessence. Just a little. Tenative. Like Swiss isn't used to using it like this. "I'm not Aether, obviously. But I think it's a sprain. You'll be alright." Aeon feels those words somewhere at his core. Solid. True. Maybe it's Swiss' quintessence. The power of suggestion. But he believes him. Even as the pain rages, barely touched by what little quintessence Swiss has given him. He wants to beg for more, he almost does--but Swiss is still talking. "....get you dressed and back to the hotel. I'll take care of you." "You?" Aeon looks up at him. Swiss laughs, lopsided grin finally slotting back into place. "Yeah, me. Why you hoping for someone else to play nurse?" "No! No, I just mean--you're not--I figured you had better things to do. Weren't you and Dew going to go to that bar or something? I'll be ok--" "I know you'll be ok. But I want to help. So let me." Aeon wants to protest. He knows he's a part of this pack as much as anyone else--has never been lead to believe he isn't. But he's still new, still worries that he's one misstep away from being rejected. But Swiss has never given him a reason to think that, and he looks so earnest when he asks. Wearing his glamor. Looking so startlingly human with warm brown eyes and that crooked smile that always makes Aeon's stomach flip. Swiss grabs Aeon's t-shirt and holds it out to him--ready to help, and Aeon sags in resignation. He can do it alone--he can take care of himself and battle through this pain without any help. But why would he want to. "Will you even wash my hair for me?" Aeon asks, half a joke, grinning just for the opportunity to see Swiss grin back. "Maybe," Swiss laughs, helping Aeon into his t-shirt. "But, I might just dose you with enough quintessence to knock you out so I can go party with Dew." "You won't," Aeon says, sure. Feeling lighter despite the pain radiating down his arm and into his fingers. Swiss pulls him close, guides him out of the dressing room with a steady hand on the small of his back. "No," he concedes. "I won't."

[notknickers]

this fic took too long to commit to digital paper than it should have, but it's done, so let's focus on that. i have incorporated a few of the headcanons i listed in another dedicated post. or, at least, i tried. synopsis: a strange routine has settled between you and colonel könig, your direct superior. one unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome, after you got over the shock elicited by the reserved, dreadful giant seeking you out for comfort you did not imagine him needing… and the fact that he seems to need it from you more often than you from him. but an unspoken agreement is still an agreement.

warnings: unethical power imbalance, ptsd, dub con to full con, muffdiving for comfort, maledom to malesub, crying, heavy petting, orgasm control and denial, könig is a pet, slight degradation, praising, humping, cum eating, dispassionate fingering, second-person narration in present tense, no gender mention, but reader assumed to be afab, military-related inaccuracies, probably.

word count: 3887

A/N: if you're unsure whether to read this fic or not, here's something about me that might help you decide:

i like my porn grotesque and sentimental;

i like my men dangerous, submissive, pathetic (affectionate) and in tears.

a less blurry tentakönig than his previous appearance is once again here to kindly remind us that the following is aimed at an adult audience. please, respect this.

you are walking with a couple of new recruits along one of the corridors of the base’s building. from out the windows, the light hardly makes a difference, too weak at this early hour to lighten the interiors. chill still blankets you like dew on the grass outside: it hasn’t abandoned you since you woke up for drills.

this isn’t the fastest route to report for training, but there is still time, so you don’t fret. you chat lightly, nodding here and there in spite of the little interest you have for the banality of the noobies’ small talk, when the sound of heavy footfalls echoes ahead.

you hear him before you can see, the sight of colonel könig’s imposing frame following close behind the sound of his stomping gait. your comrades hesitate only a moment, going quiet and halting to salute the higher-ranking official. you don’t.

you are too busy taking in könig’s haunted eyes locking on you, a shiver running down your spine as soon as you notice how crazed they look. two dark pits in the holes of his mask, staring ahead through heavy eyelids smudged in black. your body has stopped moving before your brain could take stock of it; his pace has only increased.

there is not a doubt left: you are his target.

the colonel ignores the recruits and, without even slowing, seizes you by the waist with an arm, lifting you bodily and dragging you along with him. you do not fight it. instead, you gesture towards the hesitant others to go on without you and, after an awkward glance exchanged with one another, they are swift to follow your unspoken advice.

if something unethical is going on between an official and a private, neither of them wishes to witness it. the less they know, the safer their positions within their employer’s company.

you watch their shadows disappear on the wall, behind a sharp corner, and the bitter stench of tobacco mixed with acrid breath hits your nostrils, even through the fabric of the colonel’s mask. it makes you think how many hours he has been up, how long he has been storming the base looking for you, how many times he has choked the desire to drag you from your cot in the middle of the night with yet another cigarette for that smell to linger so thickly…

until the distraction of smoking stopped being enough to help him hold back.

he drops you to your feet, unceremonious, back against wall and falls to his knees, masked head reaching above your waist as he hastily unbuckles your belt. it jingles sharply in the gloom of early morning quiet, the padding of his thick gloves hindering the deftness of his movements, but not his will.

«colonel…», you hazard, voice small. but all you receive in response is more of his frenzied panting and a jolt as your belt is finally torn from your trouser’s loops.

one of his hands disappears under the trail of his mask, teeth pulling at glove, before brash fingers are back to tug at your button and zipper. you relent, disliking the idea of having to request another standard-issue uniform so soon and manage to get your hand under his, removing every obstacle along his way.

könig barely glances up at you in approval. he swipes down trousers and underwear in one pull with a groan. you barely see the pale, scarred skin of his lower face flash in the dim light as he lifts the dangling ends of his mask just enough, that his head already dives between your legs.

his thick fingers hold the softer flesh on your inner-thighs apart with such urge you sense with certainty you will find them bruised, as the colonel easily covers the length of your cunt with the flat of his tongue, uses it to spread your lips, so his can attach to your soft, delicate folds and suck enough to make you ache in both discomfort and desire.

«colonel…», you try again to little avail, the wet, smacking sound of his mouth on yours getting louder as he presses his lips, his chin, hard against you, his panting soon turning to satisfied groaning.

«make me…», he rasps hot against your skin while snatching one of your hands and planting it firmly on top of his own head, pale stubble of hair stinging your palm through the neck-hole of his t-shirt-mask.

as if you could really make colonel könig do anything in this state.

so desperate that his hips thrust back and forth of their own accord. they have been since the moment the colonel dropped in front of you to lose himself in his self-assigned task. they always do when his lips can taste your juices – or those of any other, you presume. they fuck empty air, occasionally swatting your legs as he laps at your cunt with wanton greed unknown to you before you and the colonel were introduced, large, gloved hand still covering yours, squeezing your fingers as he fantasises about you forcing him to pleasure you, like he requested.

it’s more of an instinct, an uncontrollable tic for him, than a genuine attempt at release for himself. he doesn’t even register how he could dry-hump your boot to get himself off, so completely taken by his visceral hunger for you while in the unshakable grip of whatever darkness stirs within.

the one that guided his actions so far. the one that guides his actions often.

you are certain he revels in the feel of your sex against his tongue more than you in the feel of his tongue against it; as if every lick and suck brought him closer to a salvation otherwise denied.

this confirms the initial suspicion that formed in your head as soon as you looked at his grey, dire eyes as he came at you like a battering ram: another one of his night terrors. another phantom lingering in his wake.

you don’t know what it is he sees in the back of his skull every time he blinds himself from sight, when exhaustion claims him and he has no choice but to succumb to it. that is the one thing that still remains a mystery and you won’t prise. you can imagine the horrors, you have seen it before, and that is not the kind of information you force out of someone, no matter how erratic they behave because of it.

his messy slurping is getting out of hand; the way he traps your lips and folds in his teeth and pulls on them, before burying his tongue in your slit to harangue your too-sensitive nub with his nose becoming unbearable; his feasting off of you far rougher than usual.

«col--- könig!», you finally call, voice stern, and his head lifts, chin glistening with spit, before the lower hem of his mask falls back down, sticking to it.

he looks at you as if he were seeing you for the first time today, fury, if not sated, at least subdued, for now. the troubled look so vivid in his eyes moments ago dulls enough that it’s only a pale, threatening glimmer on their glassy surface.

you carefully pinch the hem of your clothes, slowly lifting them to cover up. he stops forcing your thighs apart, so you can adjust your uniform around your hips, gaze still boring into his as you refuse to avert it from his unreliable nature, hoping it will be enough to stay his brash hand.

instead, he helps you with the button, then shuffles back a little, signalling he is no threat to you. he never really was. not willingly, at least.

«belt!»

he swiftly collects it from where he discarded it earlier in his state of rash lust and mysterious turmoil and coils it tidily around his fist, before placing it in your outstretched hand.

he watches, still on his knees, as you loop it back in place and buckle it close, his breathing quiet again.

«könig», his eyes are back to yours as he expectantly awaits for your next words, «to your quarters, colonel.»

you are the one to lock the door behind the two of you with the colonel’s implicit blessings. both of you know what comes next, yet könig does not move, waiting for your say.

so you do. you inhale deeply, closing your eyes for a moment to recollect yourself, knowing now that the distance between you, modest though it may be, will still be the same when you reopen them.

«kit off, colonel», there is no harshness in your voice, but it sounds authoritative all the same.

könig complies, ridding himself of any encumbrance save for his mask, then stands there, further waiting. you don’t allow yourself to indulge in his attractive figure too long, even when his arousal is difficult to ignore, pointing straight at you, leaking thickly.

«come», you barely open your arms and he goes down to the floor, crawling towards you. you meet him on the tiles, slipping your back against the door and settling in a squat as you invite him to join you, invite him closer.

now he can touch you.

he hugs your waist tight, almost dragging you down with him, but careful not to. his head immediately finds shelter in the hollow of your neck, silently begging for comforting touch you are now willing to provide. your hand is soon going through his short-cropped hair, mindful not to lift his mask.

not until he is ready to do it himself, or give you leave to.

there, on the floor, you both find your peace. the peace of liminality: fleeting, for it won’t last and, therefore, all the more precious. he barely moves, trying not to burden you with his conspicuous weight, even when, after a while, even your well-trained thighs and knees need reprieve from the squatting.

you sit down, legs spread wide to make room for könig as he slots himself between them, ruined, scarred lips tracing your throat downwards, then up again as his hands open the top of your fatigues, where more of your skin can be freed for him, covered only by your tank top.

he needs that contact. close. warm. reassuring. even when he unshackles your breasts from the trappings of your attire, mandated down to your underclothes, it is not out of need of his loins that he does so.

you hold him to your chest and soon, you feel his throat tremble. hot, wet tears melt his face, safely hidden against you, breaking the soft murmur of quiet breathing in low, reluctant and shameful sobs the colonel holds in until he cannot any more. a litany of exhalations and mutterings in his native tongue pushes out of him to take their place.

delirium

you hold him tighter as one of your hands finds its way under his mask to contour the battlefield that is his face. unevenly raised scars older and newer that litter his skin welcome the pads of your fingers as you wipe the tears with your palms, gently stroking.

he glances up at you, miserable, bloodshot eyes supplicating for things he couldn’t name if he knew what they were called.

«shhhh», you reassure him that there is no need to ask for anything as you begin to lift his mask, slowly enough to give the colonel time to object. he doesn’t and the fabric swishes off his head quietly.

now he is fully bare. a level of nakedness that you are sure not many have had the chance to witness.

your hold tightens around him and your hand runs through his matted hair, his damp cheeks, contouring the crooked shape of the left cheekbone, the one that broke and never healed right, dabbing at ever-renewing tears as he curses a past to you unknown.

the colonel shifts his heavy eyes, voice louder as he hisses at an invisible figure that hangs in the air of his memory, right next to your head, then shelters his face in your bosom again, crumpled on his knees, fingers digging the sides of your back, which he easily hugs.

you haven’t stopped stroking his hair a moment, holding the colonel as tightly as you’re capable of, trying to hush his whimpering with voice steady and secure.

you don’t know what could reduce the epitome of man such the colonel is, or at least, presents as, to this shaky mess and, at this point, you hope you never learn. the slump of his otherwise proud, muscled back looks pitiful as you stare at it. it brings a bitter scowl to your lips. what, indeed, could possibly have brought reserved and competent könig this low, in front of you?

you remember a tune you once heard him hum when he thought no one was there, or when he was so lost in thought that he did not even realise doing it, more likely. you intone it to the best of your memory.

this seems to soothe the colonel, enough that he is quiet, save for the occasional shaky gasp that still seizes his throat. he soon joins you, voice off-key and hoarse, to complete it with sparse words you couldn’t possibly know.

you try not to think of the consequences of missing the daily training, yet have no intention to ask the colonel to vouch for you. you want to keep this strange moment all to yourself, separate from your quotidian routine. a slice of time in an alternate place, cut away from your everyday reality.

yours and könig’s alone.

your thoughts are interrupted by the colonel’s mouth, warm and hungry. it wraps about the tips of your tear-stained tits and sucks, finally driven by different needs than consolation. your body responds right away to the ravenous love bites he marks on your skin, another blemish of his you will carry with yourself. a memento that this was not some daydream that never really was outside of your imagination.

your nipples pebble in his mouth and, as he steals another gasp from your throat, his demeanour emboldens. his large, rough hands cup your breasts while his teeth move to your neck, your jaw, your lips.

you are weak to his advances. you don’t deny him. yet it leaves you wondering who is taking advantage of whom.

«turn around, colonel», you forcefully grab a tuft of könig’s hair and pull the roots to show him you meant it. again, he complies, even though you can sense a note of disappointment.

he sits in front of you and you kneel at his back, bodies pressed tightly together as you reach around to knead his stomach, muscles flexing involuntarily as your hands descend. the thickness of könig’s abdomen forces you to struggle to reach his cock, but you can work with it. you already have in the past and the fingers now curling around the root of it confirm it.

your hand barely contains his heft, but it is quick to move along the heavy organ all the same. you squeeze, a groan reaching your ears as his flesh throbs back your touch, fingers tracing pulsing veins along it until they come away wet, foreskin rolling down softly almost on its own.

enough with the toying. you want to hear the colonel, könig, gasp and whimper as desperately as when he was weeping, but for rather different reasons. your determination spurs your movements and you start stroking his cock in earnest, wasting no more time.

it feels more aggression than service, almost violent, the way you abuse his cock with your hand, but you know he can take it. can take it. the man demands it. you know by the way, uncomfortable though it is sitting on the floor like that, he bucks his hips into your fist, meeting your downward slide with a jolt from his loins.

and when you torture him with your delightful touch, only to open your fist, enough for him to feel the silky warmth of your palm, but none of the friction, he whines for your hand back. he wines oh-so-sweetly for it as you mock him in pointed whispers in his ear.

this only riles him up more, forcing the most endearing of sounds through his broken lips. so you grant him his wish, hugging his girth in your fist and returning to your task, skin sliding smoothly with könig’s own wetness.

you repeat one, two, three more times, delighting each one in his reactions, until you force him to pleasure himself with your hand.

you hold it still around him, making him work for his release, his hips back to their frantic bucking, until you cheat him out of his pleasure one last infuriating time.

he curses in his tongue, that much you understand without need for translation, as you rise from the floor to stand a little distance away, in front of him.

«silence, dog! you know what i want, now.»

his chest heaves visibly as he peers at you from below, almost hateful in the intensity of his leer, but he obeys. back on all fours, he crawls towards your outstretched hand, seeking contact once more.

you stroke his face, damp and exhausted-looking, by now: «you’re a good, obedient dog, colonel.»

he hums at the praise and lets you guide him closer to you by his hair as you extend your left leg towards him, planting the heel of your boot to the floor. he observes while you let a glob of saliva trickle down on its tip and shuffle your foot to spread it on the rest of the black leather surface.

you lean towards him: «you know what i want from you now, pup.»

könig nods, then positions himself atop your boot, thighs straddling each side of it, disappearing it from sight with their large, powerful muscles. he stares up at you as he rubs his cock against the squeaky-clean, smooth leather you maintain in impeccable condition. he would do so even if that hand of yours caught in his hair weren’t twisting his neck backwards enough to relish in the sight of him.

his slower, sensuous movements begin to grow more haphazard once more. you are sure he will give himself rope burns with the laces if you don’t let him find relief.

«go on, colonel. i want you to come. now.»

he buries his face between your thighs as his hips keep working your boot, rubbing his cheeks against the rough fabric of your fatigues, lapping at it with his tongue, mouth hungry for the warmth and sweet taste of your cunt, just below the clothes, yet out of reach for the colonel until you decree otherwise.

he will have to settle for breathing in its scent, especially after those theatrics of his, earlier this morning.

finally, his penance is served in full. he moans against your crotch as he floods your boot with his seed, breath scorching as his mouth seals against your trousers to quiet his pleasured utterings.

his tongue is dry when he sits on his haunches to recover his breath.

you pet könig’s head, sweat wetting your palm as you run it along his skull: «you are a good pup, colonel», he basks in your praises, eyes almost beaming, «but do you know what a really good pup would do, now?»

he nods, sparing you the breath to tell him and immediately goes down to your boot again, lips and tongue working, relentless, to clean it from his mess. he doesn’t come up until not a single trace of his juices is left on your footwear, nor the floor around it, where it trickled.

you watch him swallow the last of it. No complaints.

that’s when you kneel to encase his jaws in your hands, so you can tilt his head towards you: «you were perfect, colonel.»

you can feel all the tension leave könig’s body. as for the anguish that plagues his spirit, you have done what you could.

colonel könig’s uniform looks impeccable on him. it hugs him perfectly, as if every piece of it were not lying crumpled on the floortiles only minutes ago. his mask is back on his head, shrouding his face as he likes. he waits by the door, gaze illegible, with a glass of apricot brandy in hand whose bottle he retrieved from one of the drawers.

he offered you some, but you declined. even if you could bear its taste, you don’t feel like indulging in spirits when your day has yet to begin. he shrugged and went to lean against the egress wall. he’s still sipping on it to rinse his mouth as you readjust your own fatigues.

you nod your head in goodbye and make to leave, but his figure doesn’t budge. you wait for an explanation. all you get is his gaze trailing behind you as he eyes his large desk, instead.

you sigh, considering what he is offering. your absence must have been noticed, by now and you don’t think a few more minutes will make a difference. in truth, your unsatisfied arousal is probably tainting your common sense, but you already said no to the brandy. it wouldn’t do to leave you superior without saying yes to a kindness he offers.

you nod and he sets his glass aside after emptying it. the temperamental giant easily lifts you again, this time much calmer and gentler, allowing you to find balance by gripping his shoulders as he walks towards the elegant wooden surface.

he rests you on it, sheltering your head with his arm and taking a few steps back as he waits for you to undo your trousers and pull them down enough. you do, clumsily, but quickly and you see him return, towering from above, eyes vacuous and inexpressive now that his mask is back on his face.

he repositions you to his liking, bending your knees to your chest to grant himself a nice view of both your face and your cunt, dripping from all the pent-up energy you accumulated during your session.

he ungloves his right hand, bringing the fingers to his mouth to wet them more out of habit than need, then plants the left one beside your face as he leans over you, mask hovering above you, brushing your face as his fingers find easy way inside you.

he gets working right away, no preambles, rather utilitarian in his approach. his thick index and middle finger squelch rhythmically inside you as his thumb covers your clit. he attacks your sweet spot right away, curling his fingertips as you bite hard on your lower lip to stifle your noises.

the recent memory of him kneeling at your feet, obedient and desperate, coupled with a few more pointed, circular motions and you’re convulsing around his hand, arms instinctively sheltering your eyes from his as your back arches. you feel him retreat right away, his job done and you can finally readjust your clothes for good.

you glimpse könig sneak the fingers he used on you under the hem of his mask, the sucking sounds you hear as you buckle your belt around your waist eloquent enough. he doesn’t seem satisfied until he has licked all of your humours from them, then his glove is fitted back on.

now you can leave.

thank you for reading. let me know what you thought, if you feel like it. and please, if you enjoyed it, consider reblogging.

[ashthewaterghoul]

https://www.tumblr.com/ashthewaterghoul/763482572056576000/may-we-have-more-phanter-cuddle-buddies-im

HELLS YEAH LETS GOOOOOOOOO

Phanter Cuddle Buddies - The Full Story

A 3.1k ramble on the entire 'lore' of this hc of mine, and the asks I got about it after posting it. All posts relating to it can be found with the tag #phanter cuddle buddies.

Phanter = Phantom + Copia (Frater)

Enjoy!

~~~~~~

    Phantom landed in a heap on the altar, a story painted across their skin in scars. There were some fresh wounds too - maybe Ghouls trying to hop a ride, maybe it was jealousy it wasn’t them. All Copia knew was that he needed to protect them.

    After Phantom had been taken to the infirmary – the usual checks to make sure a Ghoul didn’t see any damage from the summoning, along with healing the open wounds – Copia introduced himself. He hated how Phantom bristled at the word ��Master’ and promised that Phantom would always be safe here, under his leather bat-wing.

    “Whenever you need me, and whatever for. I will help you, and protect you.” Copia promised. And he meant every word in whatever interpretation you could think of.

    He checked on Phantom often, also receiving updates from the rest of the pack and Copia could see through every façade the young Ghoul put up. Phantom was struggling with nightmares, struggling to adjust to life topside, and certainly the gawping from the Siblings and pressures from the Clergy weren’t helping matters. Copia could see the piccolo pipistrello falling apart piece-by-piece.

    So, he paid them a visit one evening. And offered something Phantom was in sore need of, a hug.

    Phantom started crying with relief as they sunk down, head on Copia’s chest and arms around his waist. Copia’s hands wrapped around Phantom’s torso and held on tight. Phantom never made any move to let go, so Copia didn’t either. And they both fell asleep together in each other’s arms.

    When Copia woke up, Phantom was still asleep. And when Aether poked his head in for some guitar lessons, he looked astounded.

    “They haven’t slept in this late at all.” He muttered. It was only 8:30am.

    They agreed to let Phantom sleep until their body woke up of its own accord, and that ending up being almost two hours later.

    Phantom looked entirely well-rested and peaceful, but was immediately guilty for Copia having been there the whole night and keeping him from his duties that morning. Satanas, they were like a kit!

    “Fantasma, one of my duties as Papa is to ensure the proper care of all my Ghouls. Being here with you, making sure you’re okay, is me attending my duties.”

    Phantom didn’t feel too much better. But it was something.

    Copia unfortunately didn’t see them again for the days following, but on a particularly restless night, he got up and immediately startled because there was a Phantom on his floor. Copia could see Aether’s keys next to them so either a borrowing or theft occurred. But Copia couldn’t quite care because Phantom was on the cold and rough floor.

    Phantom hadn’t slept well at all for the nights following the impromptu sleep over with Copia. And Aether assured them that Copia would be more than happy to do it again, even offering his spare key for the room that he never used. As Phantom walked into the bedchamber of the Papal suite, they could see Copia with his eyes shut and he look so comfortable that Phantom didn’t dare wake him. Surely that was some sort of offence here? To ruin Papa’s beauty rest? Or did Dew say that about the other guy?

    It was no matter because Phantom wouldn’t wake Copia for their silly little problem. So, just like they had down in the pits countless times, they made do with what they had and slept on the ground.

    By morning they wouldn’t know the difference and would just have to stretch their back out a bit. But something certainly felt different when they woke up. It was soft and plush and warm and Phantom was still on their side, tucked against Copia’s chest. He smelt like stale tobacco that had long settled into woollen sweaters and old parchment.

    And that became somewhat of a routine.

    Phantom would sneak up from the Ghoul den and use Aether’s key to get in. They’d snuggle on the ground, and Copia always woke up at the perfect time to lift them into his bed without waking them.

    “You know,” Copia said as he woke one morning, “you can always ask. No need for sneakiness, pipistrello.”

    “But, aren’t I just being stupid? Shouldn’t I just get on with it like everyone else does?” Phantom asked.

    “If that would make you more comfortable, then by all means. I don’t know about you, but this is quite comfortable for me.” Copia said, wrapping his arms tight around Phantom, and putting a kiss inbetween their horns.

   “This is comfy for me too.” Phantom said, snuggling in further, and kneading along Copia’s tummy. An odd habit of self-soothing they did, and Copia adored because it meant Phantom was with him.

    With the restful nights for them both, Phantom came out their shell a lot more and managed to spend a night or two away from Copia a week. Although they had become great at asking to come over, rather than sneaking in. It took some prompting from Copia for it to start, but they got there. And Copia couldn’t be prouder.

    Phantom’s sleep was often wracked with nightmares and flashbacks of all they went through in the pits. They sometimes would wake screaming and crying in a cold sweat, sometimes they would just blink awake and silently cry, horrendously uncomfortable from their what images their mind would conjure up. Whatever happened, Copia helped. Even if he himself didn’t always wake up, his scent was what Phantom used to ground themself, or sometimes trace along the tattoo on his pec. Just Copia’s presence helped Phantom. “The safest arms in the Ministry” Mountain had said as a joke, but Phantom couldn’t ever think anything else.

    As much as their nights helped Phantom rest easier, they helped Copia too. He was a world-class insomniac – a trait he learned he shared with all his brothers – but something about Phantom helped him sleep easier. It wasn’t any Quintessence; he knows what that feels like. It was just a deep-rooted contentment in his heart that warmed him up as Phantom snuggled in close.

    Copia never had any children of his own, but he felt like Phantom was the child he’d always wanted. They were just so perfect, and he cared and loved them more than he ever had for his Ghouls. It was almost primal the way he adored the Bug and wanted to protect them.

    From anyone else, Papa had felt like a title, a denote of respect.

    From Phantom? It was true, he was their Papa, in any and every way you could imagine.

    One night, when Phantom came up in their fluffy pyjamas that Cumulus had bought them, Copia handed them a gift bag.

    “I didn’t forget my birthday, did I?” Phantom asked.

    “No, no, il mio bambino.” Copia laughed, “This is for no particular reason other than I want you to have it.”

    Phantom opened the bag, and their eyes watered as they lifted their own spare key for the room from the bag. A little purple bat keyring hanging from it.

    “Even if I am not here, you can always come in. I know for Ghouls even the scent of someone, or their space in general can be a comfort.” Copia said.

    “Thank you.” Phantom whispered; their heart full of gratitude and tears running down their face.

    “You deserve it. And now you can stop stealing Aether’s keys.” Copia smiled, and they both laughed.

    Even during the nights Phantom spent away from Copia’s bed, the sheets still smelt vaguely of them. Copia’s human nose would never be as sharp as a Ghoul’s. Apparently Phantom’s scent was log fires and cocoa but Copia couldn’t quite discern those notes. All he could smell was Phantom. Hisbambino. His pipistrello.

    And for Phantom, they had stolen more than a few things from Copia’s room – shouldn’t have given me a key if he didn’t want me having access to things with his scent – and so they could always smell him too. It would never be as good as the real deal, but it was always a good make-do. And they had they key so they could have the real deal whenever they wanted or needed.

    Even on tour, they often paired up for hotel rooms, or crammed their two bodies into the small bunks. Tiny sofas in greenrooms or sprawled out in parks on adventures. Any and all struggle was worth it to have their solace in their little world.

    But then, it happened.

    Sister died, and Copia ascended to Frater Imperator.

    When they returned home from that tour, Copia was told that he had new Quarters. He wasn’t Papa now; he didn’t need the Papal suite. Okay yeah, that makes sense.

    Copia was handed the key, and so he asked if there were any spares. He was told no.

    “Well, I should like a few made, per favore.” Copia said.

    “Why?” The bishop who had arranged the room change asked.

    “Do I need a reason? I am often forgetful; I should like spares.” He had more authority, they should listen to him now, right?

    “We can get more made or find a locksmith if you forget your key, Papa.”

    “It is Frater now, and I should like a spare. At least one.”

    “Well, it can be considered. But as Frater your safety is of utmost priority. Why should we consider it?”

    Copia exhaled, “It is for my Ghoul. We both enjoy the other’s company, get our own benefits from it.” They were a Church of Sin, if he made it sound like it was something sinful then they would agree, right? “They had a key to my old rooms. I should like to keep that curtesy going as my successor has refused them.”

    A deafening second of silence. Then a deafening crack of laughter.

    Copia locked himself in and cried in his new room. He didn’t realise how much the old place smelled of Phantom until he realised their scent would never grace the new Quarters.

    He tried to go without Phantom, as painful as it was. Maybe it was just a habit he could break even though he didn’t want to break it. The little he now saw Phantom, he knew they were struggling too. Neither of them had been sleeping right, and Copia was very thankful for his Clergy paint hiding his dark purple under-eyes. Phantom was praying that the new masks may still have the googles to hide their own exhaustion.

    Phantom had tried to come up to Copia’s new room on the second night, having not slept a wink on the first. They got up to the stairs that led way to the High Clergy wing, and there was Clergy guarding the stairs. That was new. Phantom just tried to offer them a polite smile and continue on, but a hand pushed into their abdomen to stop them moving.

    “What do you want, Ghoul?” One man asked them.

    “T- to see Copia.” Phantom said.

    “It is late. Frater needs his rest before his first day on the job tomorrow.” The other said.

    “But I always come and see him. I had a key to his old room.” Phantom said.

    “Yes, when he was Papa. He is not Papa anymore. He has no responsibility to Ghouls.”

    Phantom felt like crying or shouting or ripping them to shreds. So, they turned on their heel until they were out of sight, and collapsed to the floor. They stuffed their fleece sleeve into their mouth to stop their sobs echoing and managed to cry themselves dry on the ground. When they woke up, they were in a bed. But any and all hope was quickly ripped away when they realised that it wasn’t Copia’s bed.

    Aether’s Quintessence had known something was wrong, and with a bit of searching, he found Phantom asleep in the corridor. Eyes swollen from crying and absolutely reeking of despair. He picked them up, and brought them back to his own nest, holding them for every second until they woke up.

    A few nights later, Copia tried to go down to the den instead, just like that first time.

    “Where are you going, Frater?” One Clergy guard asked.

    “A walk, I am restless.” He said simply.

    “If his Dark Excellency wants to take a walk that is fine, but one of us must accompany you until you return safely to your room.”

    “It is unneeded.” He assured.

    “It is needed. A rule from the new Papa. To ensure the safety of all.”

    “Well, an old rule from Sister Imperator means that I hold absolute power here. I do not need an escort.”

    “It is certainly something you can bring up in the next Clergy meeting, but for now…”

    Copia gritted his teeth, “You know, gentlemen, this talk has been exactly what I needed to wear myself out.” He turned and left. And it certainly didn’t wear him out because he couldn’t sleep for the life of him.

    It’s not right for an Imperator to be so close with the Ghouls.

    They’re a Papa’s responsibility, not yours.

    It’s just not proper.

    Don’t you sleep easier with room in your bed for those who want to satisfy your sinful urges?

    It isn’t safe.

    It’s not your duty anymore.

    The Ghoul is fully grown and has a whole pack, they will be fine by themself.

    No.

    It’s all Copia heard on repeat for the next… how long has it been? Days? Weeks? Months? It couldn’t possibly have been years, could it?

    It actually had been nearly two years.

    Two years of not a single night slept well for Phantom or Copia. Neither were permitted to keep anything that smelled of the other and what they did manage to keep quickly lost the scent of its original owner. Whenever Copia was allowed to take a Ghoul on business trips for security, his requests for Phantom were rejected for someone bigger and stronger who would protect him. Texting and video calling didn’t have the same effect when all they wanted were each other’s scents and warmth. They had odd moments they could be together – Clergy get-togethers and the like – but it wasn’t what they craved.

    “One day” had become their mantra, no matter how much it felt it would never happen.

    Phantom was whisked away on tours with the new guy and the distance from Copia only made things worse. Aether had been an okay substitute but even he wasn’t here either. Swiss had been the one to deal with Phantom mainly, others taking over when they allowed. Returning home, all Phantom wanted was to run to Copia’s arms, but he was never allowed anything more than a handshake.

    If Phantom though they knew Hell, this was so much worse.

    Copia still saw Phantom as his child. And to have his child in the same building, the same roof, only a few minutes’ walk away and to not be able to help them or comfort them through the long nights? He was in agony.

    Copia thought Hell would be kinder than this torture.

    But, as always, the Ghouls had a plan.

    Some Clergy had announced retirements, location changes, even a disappearance from one stubborn Archbishop.  To anyone else, if was just unfortunate, but Copia saw a certain pattern to each Clerical change. He knew his Ghouls and it started to feel suspicious to Copia. Swiss’ smirk when he asked all but confirmed it.

    “We’re natural born predators, Frater. You always encouraged us to be ourselves. We’re pack. And we hunt those who hurt our pack.” Swiss explained as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

    Aether and Mountain had been spearheading their silent insurrection to ensure that no one actually got murdered, no matter how much they may want it, well… apart from the Archbishop but the Ghoulettes were hunting and he was just in the way. Copia got clued into everything, and managed to make some of his own methodical staff changes. But eventually, enough Clergy had been replaced with younger, open ears. The next time Copia proposed a change to the limits placed on what relationship he could have with his Ghouls, the odds finally tipped in their favours.

    When Phantom got that text, they didn’t believe it. They asked just about every Ghoul they could find to speak it to back to them so they knew they were reading it correctly.

    *Get your comfiest pyjamas on. Get the blanket and stuffie of yours I love. And get up here. I have something for you, pipistrello.*

    Well, they have never moved faster in their entire life, and they’d been hunted what-must-be some world record number of times. Their chest was burning by the time they were at the staircase to the High Clergy wing. They half expected it to be a trick - one of those prank apps that make it look like calls and texts are coming from people you know and it was actually bored Siblings or Clergy playing games with them.

    But no one stopped them. No one stopped them from going up the stairs, from finding the nameplate that said “Frater Imperator”. No one stopped them from knocking. And no one stopped them from jumping into Copia’s arms as he opened the door.

    “Oh, mio bambino.” Copia cried too, kissing everything he could reach on Phantom without breaking the anxiety-relieving, bone-crushing, soul-melding hug they had wanted for so so long.

    “Papa.” Phantom cried, they only ever said Frater when they had to because for all intents and purposes, Copia was their Papa.

    They waddled backwards together into Copia’s suite, Phantom closing the door with their tail. After some inordinate amount of time, they broke apart, and Phantom had a good idea what was in the gift bag this time.

    They pulled out a spare key for the new room, their bat keyring hanging off it, and started crying again. They were soothed by that scent of old tobacco settled into woolled sweaters and old parchment that was much more easily described as safety and home.

    Phantom’s own unique scent, the feel of their heartbeat and their little hands kneading along his tummy made Copia’s heart swell. His cucciolo di pipistrello in his arms again, where they should’ve been the whole time. Right where they belong.

    It may have been years, but Phantom and Copia’s bodies easily remembering the dance of snuggling into each other and burrowing down for a bit of rest. For the first time since they got home from that last tour, they both found themselves easily drifting away to the dreamworld. Although when they woke up, they would remember that their dreams from the last couple years had finally come true. But for now, they slept.

    And by Satan that night of sleep was the safest, deepest and just the best in either of their Hellbound existences.

One shot master post can be found here!

[kimmie2me]

Hi hellooo<3 would it be alright to ask for something related to bunny izuku?💞

Soft Steps, Warm Gazes

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Bunny!Midoriya Izuku x AFAB!Reader

…..

In the magical realm of Pristine Plains, where the sky gleamed with colors as vibrant as the world below, you lived in a cozy little cabin nestled between sun-dappled trees and winding cobblestone paths. Your home sat tucked under the watchful branches of an old willow, blooming wildflowers surrounding it in a burst of colors and soft scents. The ground was lush, warm underfoot even as you wandered between the garden beds, checking for ripe fruits and vegetables, their vibrant skins gleaming in the afternoon light.

Pristine Plains was a realm of endless wonders, home to all manner of creatures, each unique and astonishing. From dragons with scales that glistened like jewels to fae with wings iridescent as sunlight through stained glass—everyone here thrived in a harmony as delicate as it was beautiful. Your life was simple yet deeply fulfilling. Each morning, you picked the finest fruits and vegetables, arranging them in woven baskets outside your cabin, free for any traveler who might need a bite to eat.

Today, as you set a plump bunch of berries and bright tomatoes into a basket by your door, you noticed someone lurking at the edge of the trees. He wasn’t the usual traveler passing through, nor was he a neighbor coming to exchange stories and fresh goods. He was… well, adorable, really. A small bunnyfolk, standing half-hidden behind a tree trunk, with wide, emerald-green eyes that sparkled with curiosity and caution. His fur was a soft, dark green that glistened under the sunlight, almost like ivy in morning dew. He wore a simple tunic that matched the color of his fur, and his little nose twitched with what you could only assume was nerves.

You hadn’t seen him before, and you wondered what had brought him here. He seemed hesitant, shifting his weight from one foot to another, glancing repeatedly at the baskets of fresh produce beside your door. But despite his clear interest, he made no move to step forward.

So, you did what you always did for someone in need: you offered kindness.

With a soft smile, you carefully filled a small basket with some of the freshest goods—the fruits and vegetables you could tell he’d been eyeing the longest, the ones his gaze had lingered on. Strawberries, plump and red; a handful of shiny green apples; and a small bundle of leafy greens that you guessed might be a favorite for someone like him. You approached him slowly, your footsteps soft on the grass, not wanting to startle him.

He noticed you approaching, his long ears perking up in surprise, and his eyes grew even wider, if that was possible. His small, fuzzy hands went to his chest as if to steady himself, his nose twitching rapidly. But he held his ground, a hint of resolve in his gaze as he watched you with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something softer, that you couldn’t quite place.

“Hello there,” you greeted, your voice gentle. You held out the basket to him, keeping your movements slow and kind. “I noticed you watching. I thought you might be hungry.”

His gaze flickered from the basket up to your face, his cheeks turning a shade pinker, the color spreading to the tips of his ears. “Ah… I… I didn’t mean to… um…”

You waited patiently as he stumbled over his words, clearly flustered, his little hands fidgeting with the edge of his tunic. Eventually, he reached out, tentative, like he was afraid of somehow offending you by accepting the gift. When his fingers brushed the basket, you saw them tremble ever so slightly, as if this was something he rarely allowed himself to do.

“These are for… for me?” he asked in a soft voice, his emerald eyes glistening with genuine surprise.

“Yes, of course,” you reassured him, your smile warm and open. “Please, take them. I always have plenty, and it’s nice to share with someone who appreciates them.”

He took the basket into his arms, holding it close like it was something precious, his face softening with a look of wonder. His gaze met yours again, this time with something shy but deeply appreciative. “Thank you… I—really, thank you so much. I was just… passing by, but…” He paused, glancing down at the fruits in his hands, then back up at you, ears twitching slightly as he struggled to find his words. “I didn’t know if it would be… rude to ask.”

“Not at all,” you replied, heart warming at his thoughtfulness. “I’m always happy to help. Besides, you look like someone who deserves a nice meal.”

At this, he turned a shade darker, his cheeks nearly matching the strawberries you’d given him. He mumbled a shy “Thank you” again, his fingers toying with the stem of an apple, his eyes flitting from the basket to you and back again.

As he lingered there, you noticed his gaze repeatedly drifting to the cabin and the garden behind you, his curiosity clearly sparked. It was adorable, how he tried to be so polite even when his interest was obvious.

“Would you like to come inside?” you offered, stepping back a little to give him space, watching his expression brighten in surprise. “I just brewed some tea if you’d like to join me.”

“Oh! Oh, I—um, yes, that… that sounds… nice,” he stammered, nodding a bit too quickly, as if he’d been waiting for you to ask.

You guided him up the small cobblestone path, his little bunny steps soft behind you as he followed, clutching the basket close to his chest. Inside, your cozy cabin was filled with warm, earthy scents of dried herbs and flowers, shelves lined with small jars and woven baskets holding all sorts of fruits, vegetables, and dried petals. A small, crackling fire added a comforting glow, casting gentle shadows across the room.

He looked around with wide eyes, taking in every detail, his gaze darting from one corner of the cabin to another, as though he couldn’t believe he was really here.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” you said, gesturing to a cushioned chair by the fire. He settled into it with a little wiggle, his face lighting up at the warmth of the hearth as he held the basket in his lap like a treasure.

As you poured tea into two delicate cups, he glanced shyly your way, the tip of one ear twitching. “I’ve… never met anyone like you before,” he admitted softly, his gaze fixed on his tea as though he was afraid to say it out loud. “You’re so… kind. I mean, it’s rare. I… I usually have to…”

His voice trailed off, and he shrugged, a bit sheepish.

You watched him, a gentle understanding in your smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here now. If you ever need anything, please feel free to visit. I have plenty to share.”

The bunny took a careful sip of his tea, glancing down shyly before finally gathering the courage to speak again. “Thank you again… for the food, and the tea… and, well, for all of this. I, um… I’m not used to people being so kind, you know?”

You tilted your head, a gentle understanding in your eyes. “That’s alright. It’s nice to share a meal with someone who appreciates it.” You extended your hand across the small wooden table. “I’m glad to meet you, really. My name is [Your Name].”

“Oh!” He set his tea down, quickly reaching out to shake your hand, his fingers soft and warm, and his touch delicate. “I-I’m Midoriya Izuku. You can just use my given name..if you want,” he said, his ears twitching in what seemed like both excitement and embarrassment. “I’m, well, a traveler… I like to explore and learn new things.” His green eyes brightened as he spoke, his nerves easing slightly. “Pristine Plains is so beautiful. I didn’t expect to meet someone as kind as you here, though.”

“I’m glad we met too, Izuku. It’s nice having a visitor who appreciates this place as much as I do. I’ve lived here my whole life, but it’s still so full of surprises.”

A small, surprised smile tugged at Izuku’s lips. “You must know every tree and flower in this place by heart, then?”

You laughed, a warm, gentle sound that made his cheeks turn even pinker. “Not every tree, but I’d like to think I know it well. I spend my days out here, tending to my plants and sharing what I grow with travelers. It’s a peaceful life.”

Izuku’s gaze softened, and he looked at you with a quiet reverence. “That’s… amazing, actually. So you’ve met a lot of people? I mean, all kinds, I bet.” He glanced down, ears twitching again as if suddenly self-conscious. “I hope… I mean, I hope you’ll let me come by again sometime?”

You smiled, nodding encouragingly. “Of course, Izuku. You’re welcome here anytime! I’d be happy to have a friend around.”

Izuku’s face brightened, and his expression softened with genuine gratitude. He took another sip of tea before glancing out the window, where the sun was beginning to sink, painting the skies in hues of lavender and gold. He sighed, a reluctant note in his voice. “I should probably head back before it gets dark. But… thank you. Truly. For the food, the tea, everything. I don’t know how to repay you.”

You waved a hand dismissively, shaking your head. “There’s no need. Just come by again, whenever you like.”

As he left, he turned back one last time, his face lit up by a grateful, almost reverent smile. “Thank you… for everything.”

.....

From then on, Izuku visited every day. Sometimes he’d bring you small gifts he’d collected on his journeys—crystals from nearby hills, feathers he found while wandering, and little tokens he thought you’d enjoy. Other times, he would spend hours helping you in the garden, his hands careful and his gaze admiring as he watched you work. He was good company, and soon, his visits felt like a natural part of your days, a friendship blossoming between the two of you.

One morning, you noticed Izuku was especially excited as he arrived, a glimmer of anticipation in his green eyes. “I was thinking… um, there’s a place I’d love to show you,” he said, his words rushing together with excitement. “It’s just beyond Pristine Plains, in a forest called Elkwood. I visit it sometimes when I need to clear my mind. But I think… you’d really like it there.”

Curiosity sparked within you, and you nodded eagerly. “I’d love to see it. Lead the way.”

Together, you made your way through Pristine Plains, the familiar paths soon giving way to denser trees as the two of you ventured into Elkwood Forest. The moment you crossed the threshold, you felt a subtle, gentle shift in the air, a kind of magic woven into the trees and the ground itself. It was as if the forest welcomed only those who carried kindness in their hearts, a feeling that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

The trees in Elkwood were taller and grander than any you’d seen, their trunks wrapped in glowing moss and their leaves shimmering with a faint, silvery light. Flowers in colors you couldn’t name bloomed around you, their petals glowing softly under the dappled sunlight.

“Oh! Look over here!” Izuku called softly, pointing to a small group of fairies that flitted about in the air, their tiny, glowing wings leaving trails of golden light as they moved. They seemed curious, hovering close to the two of you before darting away with musical laughter.

As you wandered deeper into the forest, you came across a pond, its water so clear it looked like crystal, reflecting the magical surroundings like a mirror. Baby dragons splashed in the shallow end, their scales glimmering in shades of blue and green, their playful cries echoing across the water. You felt as if you’d stepped into a dream.

Izuku watched your expression with a fond smile. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he murmured. “Only those with true kindness in their hearts can pass through the border surrounding this part of the forest. That’s why… well, that’s why I thought you’d love it here.”

You turned to him, touched by the warmth in his words. “It’s beautiful, Izuku. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

He beamed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “I’m just glad I could share it with someone who sees it the way I do. Most people don’t notice the little things, you know? Like how the flowers glow… or how you can hear the fairies singing if you listen carefully.”

The two of you sat by the pond, watching as the sun set behind the trees, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. The soft chirping of the forest creatures filled the air, and for a long time, you both just sat in peaceful silence, absorbing the magic of the forest.

As dusk settled, Izuku turned to you, his eyes reflecting the gentle glow of the forest. “Thank you for coming here with me. I… don’t have many friends, you know? And I… I’m grateful for you.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you reached out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m grateful for you too, Izuku.”

And as the stars began to twinkle above, you knew that this friendship—this bond—was something truly special, one that had grown from simple kindness and blossomed into something magical, as rare and beautiful as the forest around you.

[drapopia]

a day in the life (cardinal copia standalone)

pairing: no pairing

warnings: mild language, terzo brings up in passing that he might get laid tonight

summary: Cardinal Copia is a strange man, but not an unkind man. Often nervous, but with a tendency to read people better than they could perceive of him. It's easy to wonder; just what exactly does this enigmatic man do in a day?

additional note: This is set before the Chapters, Copia has no idea he is related to his brothers, Sister Imperator, or Papa Nihil. But he has his suspicions.

word count: 3.6k

authors note: i want to eat copia alive. also this is my first time writing something like this, so comments and feedback are always extremely appreciated! thank you for taking an interest, i hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

———————————————

The dawn is breaking through the sheer curtains on the window, illuminating the dust motes in the air. The small television on the coffee table is still on from the night before, Super Mario 64 still loaded on the screen with the main menu. In front of the television set is a small bed, cloaked in a red duvet, and barely visible under the billowing blanket is a pillow swathed in a Star Wars pillowcase. Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader are locked in a stare, a mental battle of fortitude and will. The inhabitant of this room is in a similar mental war with himself. 

Under the blankets Copia is stretched out, one leg up to his stomach while the other one is stretched out like a stick. His cheek is level with his sheets, his lashes languidly brushing the linen below him while he thinks. He knows the first of his alarms is about to go off, his mental clock telling him it is just now turning 6:15, perhaps even 6:10. He knows he has to get up, but he’s dreading leaving the warm confines of his bed. Maybe I could manage to take a small nap between paperwork and my meeting with Imperator today…  He thinks to himself Oh, but I have a Latin for beginners class to sit in and observe for the Siblings certifications… He groans lightly under his breath as he resists the urge to curse, slowly curling into a ball, reaching his hand upwards to peel the duvet back and let his head peek through. He scans the room, not wanting to leave his bed. He blinks once, twice, clearing the sleep from his brain as best he could.

A deep sigh. Knowing he can avoid the day ahead no longer, he throws the duvet off, shivering at the chill of the small room. He knew that Primo rose even earlier than him, and chuckled at the thought of the older man watering his plants in the chill of the early morning dew. Maybe he should swing by the gardens on his way to his office, and say a brief good morning. Compared to his brothers, one stern and the other vivacious, he was slightly more down to earth. (As much as a prolific leader of the church can be.) While he wonders about how he can fit this encounter into his morning, he stretches, promptly cracking his back, a groan creeping out from his mouth. 

Copia pulls himself up, and begins his slow trek to the small personal bathroom he has, staring into the mirror. “A small trim of my mustache, maybe? How else will I keep the Siblings in line?” He chuckles to himself, running his fingers along his jaw. His sideburns could use a small shave, a bit unruly for Copia’s taste. 

 From the other room his alarm goes off, and he makes a light jog to his nightstand. He doesn’t use his phone much, but he has gotten the hang of setting up his alarms. Better than the one before, that nuisance, he thinks to himself. A small chorus of squeaks erupts from the corner of the room, the small chimes of the alarm waking his rats. 

“Yes my little ones, I will feed you soon! As soon as your papa gets clean, I will start your morning.” Copia coos from across the room, and walks back to his shower, turning on the water as hot as it will go. As steam fills the room, he takes the time to walk to the cage across the room in order to stave off the beginning of his busy day. He pops the cage lid on top of it, and reaches his hand in. 

The most mischievous, Sandro, runs up to his hand and gives a curious sniff. Copia runs his hand along Sandro’s spine, the approving wheet wheets making Copias’ lips curl into a soft smile. Francesca, the smallest of his rats, gingerly pats up to his hand and sniffs eagerly. He douses her in gentle scratches on the top of her head. In the corner of the cage his other two (quite large, admittedly) rats, Ira and Faustus, sleep in a delicate heap. 

“Oh, so sweet! I will have to swipe you all some blueberries from the kitchens, the kitchen ghouls will not mind… hopefully. Heh.” He makes a small grimace, remembering the last time a ghoul had seen him sneak out with snacks in the dead of night. They had not said anything, but the silence and their almost hypnotic stare made the embarrassment feel worse than a verbal lashing. Reluctantly, Copia closed the cage latch, and walked to the bathroom. He sighed, swiping his hands over his face. The day must begin, he thought to himself. 

-

Copia whined to himself, dropping his head into his hands. He wishes he had stayed in bed, damnit. His day had not been going… south per se, just definitely wonky. 

Papa Emeritus the III had clapped him on the shoulder earlier after their morning meeting, smiling with a small look of gracious pity.

“Cardinal, you do too much of the worrying, si? You are almost as bad as Secondo, just less of the frowning, of course.” He looked at Copia, whose eyebrows had drawn up in worry. “I guarantee you that the day will proceed as calmly as you wish for it to. You may even have time for one of your mid-afternoon naps you enjoy so much.” 

Copia had only sighed. “Perhaps, Papa. I will have to try to pencil it in.” Mentally he threw the idea away as he realized there would be absolutely no time for a catnap after planning his week's itinerary at the meeting they had just left from. 

Papa chuckled. “Of course you should! The Dark One encourages indulgence, who are we to deny his will?” His gaze turned inquisitive as he gazed at Copia. “Have you spoken to my brother about the arrangements for the sermon tomorrow morning? We have run out of black salt.” 

“Please be more specific Papa, you have two brothers.” Copia said, quickly mentally giggling to himself. Probably more from the way Nihil whored himself out all those years ago. But who am I to say, I do not know these things! Copia had to quickly bite his cheek, a nasty habit, as he stopped himself from giggling aloud. 

None the wiser to Copia’s internal quips, Papa Emeritus the III shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean Secondo of course, he is always so fussy about his sermons! Going on and on, he does. I am always asleep by the end, melted to the floor like his precious candles.” Papa smiled at Copia. “I am only joking, you know this? It is always my father who is slumped in the pews.”  

Copia let a cautious grin cover his face at that. Many times he had seen Papa Nihil hunched over in the front pew during midnight mass, curiously still with a measured rise and fall of his back. 

Terzo stopped sharply and turned to the Cardinal as they reached the end of the hallway. “Well, our little chat was nice, but I should be going now. Siblings to talk to, calls to make. You understand.” 

Copia nodded, “Of course Papa, perhaps I’ll see you later?” Copia didn’t mind talking to people, in fact, he looked forward to it. He just often found himself saying the wrong thing at inopportune times. While Terzo was a colorful horndog, he was good fun on occasion. It was more so that Copia hated crowds, he had since he was a child. It was always better for him to rush in and get out as quickly as he could, or wait behind the back of the queue for everyone to trickle out. But he knew Terzo had his side he hid, the one that Copia had only seen when they spoke quietly with a sense of brother-like urgency.

Terzo smiled, his eyes warm as he looked at Copia. “If our paths cross! I will see you at dinner, most likely.” He claps Copia on the shoulder. “If I am not having another meal in my quarters.” He smirks, and makes to saunter off, leaving Copia with only the thought of chasing down Papa Emeritus the II and inquiring about his taste in candles, and preparations for the Black Mass at the end of the week. 

It is now that Copia sits at his desk, his forehead resting on his steepled hands. I will die under a sea of paper. He thinks to himself, and his stomach gives a plaintive growl. With how his day was going, he had only had time to scarf down two cornettos before the early morning meeting, and had been surviving on coffee with cream and an egregious amount of sugar. The caffeine did little to serve him, it only made the absence of food worse. He knew these things, and yet here he was, sipping out of his small saucer of a drink that barely qualified as coffee anymore. 

He sighed, and leaned back in his chair, blinking his eyes which felt syrupy with sleep. He reached his hands up and took off his biretta, running his hands through his mousy brown hair. Maybe he’d have time to take a nice long bath tonight, curl up and pamper his babies? Maybe drive Miss Daisy? He opened his eyes and looked at the mess of expense reports he was currently sorting through. He leaned forward and rested his head against his desk, the cool wood welcoming. Maybe he could rest his eyes for just a few moments, just a break for his brain… 

-----

“-inal. Cardinal!” 

Copia awoke with a start, his biretta slipping off his head and drifting to the ground pitifully. He flung his body up and jerked his head up to meet the person who woke him up. Papa Emeritus the I stood towering over him, his posture still domineering even in his old age. He stared at Copia, his eyes curiously questioning in the low light of his office- wait. How late was it?

Copia swung his head towards the window and gasped. “Papa! I am so sorry, I- shit.” Embarrassment overtook him. “I, eh, was resting my eyes. The reports and such, they can be, eh… challenging.” Copia angled his face back towards Primo, feeling his face flush. To be caught slacking in his duties by one of the senior most Clergy members… he would think about this moment for years to come. As the owner of the second most employee of the months awards, he hoped this wouldn’t be jotted down in a performance report. 

Papa’s eyes shone in the ambient light of Copia’s tableside lamp, and his face softened by a portion. “Cardinal, it is not as late as you think it is. From the state of your hair, I only think it has been about, hm, twenty minutes or so since you drifted into sleep?” Copia let out an exhale, yet Primo continued. “I only closed the blinds for you. Tell me, do you perhaps have the schedule for next weeks’ pumpkin carving activities for the younger siblings? I need to prepare for the pumpkin harvest with the ghouls.” 

Copia nodded and scrabbled amongst the files on his desk, gingerly pulling out the paper and handing it toward Primo, who deftly took it. 

“Thank you, Cardinal.” Primo spoke firmly, gazing briefly around the room and then looking back at Copia. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, I will have a Sibling drop this schedule off here after I’m done looking through.” 

“Of course Papa, take your time” Copia was still fighting off the mortification that Primo had caught him asleep, especially since he was prone to drooling when deep in sleep. He would have to check his desk for any slobber once Papa had made his exit. 

Primo nodded, and walked towards the door to his office, and Copia took the chance while his back was turned to scan the desk for any drool. Luckily, he only saw papers, papers, and more papers. 

“Oh and, Cardinal?” 

Copia perked up and looked towards Papa. “Yes, Papa?”

Papa Emeritus the I smiled, his white eye held a subtle twinkle, belying his age. “You are lucky mio fratello did not find you sleeping on the job. He would never let you hear the end of it.” He swiftly turned to open the door, and slipped out, the door closing with a soft click.

Copia simply nodded, his ears were surely bright red. He hurriedly ran his fingers through his hair, and dropped his head onto his desk. “Shit, I just-ugh!” He was indeed lucky that Secondo had not caught him, the disapproving look and talking to he would have received would have ripped him in two. He just wanted this day to be over, and it was only 2 o’clock! Though he hadn’t smoked one since his novitiate classes, he could go for a cigarette right about now.

He rose up and took a deep breath. He couldn’t wait to be back in his bed, watching a movie, maybe playing his games, and curling up in his sweats. He would light a candle maybe, and then he would slip into blissful sleep. But for now, the work of the Cardinal was not done. Copia picked himself up with a small puff of air, and pushed in his chair behind him. He needed to go supervise the Latin class, and then check on the preparations for midnight mass for later in the week. He wanted nothing more than a nice coffee. 

-

Compared to earlier when Copia had wanted a coffee, now all he wanted was a stiff pineapple daiquiri. The sit-in observation at the Latin lesson had gone well (The siblings were sure to pass their certifications with flying colors, Sister Bianca was good at what she did).

However, the midnight mass preparations had gone to shit. The candles the clergy usually used were out of stock, and they weren’t with their current stock. He had even tried to call in a favor with their usual supplier, and they were too stretched thin even with the wiggle room they had. Not for the first time that day, he was beginning to think of just hiding in a nearby storage closet. Not that he had done that before, surely not. (Only once or twice, though he would never speak it aloud).

He made his way to Secondo’s office, his papers nervously crinkled in his hands. He often had the bad habit of wrinkling his papers in thought, and then discovering that they were bent every which way when he inspected them later. Thankfully, no one had ever commented on it, but he had received no shortage of stern looks from his instructors as a young man. 

His feet had led him to Secondo’s office, and he stood there contemplating whether or not to turn around and simply sprint to the nearest room and hide. While he wasn’t actually scared of him, he didn’t want to disappoint him. Copia never wanted to disappoint anyone. Sister had always told him he needed to keep in mind that there will always be somebody who will be disappointed. While these words did little to comfort him, they never really had , he knew they were true. It didn’t lessen the fact that Copia wanted to give good news whenever possible.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand to knock on the door when it opened. Copia was only slightly shorter than Secondo, but he still had to raise his head up to meet his eyes. Papa Emeritus’ eyes stared back, his eyes glowering down at Copia. 

“Cardinal, I thought I heard you outside. Please, come in.” His baritone voice floated through the air, and Copia nodded quickly. 

As he stepped inside Secondo’s office, he found himself slightly relaxing. The scent of incense was strong, but not overwhelming. The lighting in the room was minimal, the only sources being the tall lamp adjacent to his desk, and the curtains that blocked the large window to his left. He shuffled in, sitting down at the plush green armchair in front of Papa. 

“So, Cardinal,” Secondo said, letting out a huff as he sat down in his own chair opposite Copia. His hands rose, steepled under his chin as he gazed evenly at Copia. “How are the candle orders for Mass this week coming along?”

Copia sighed, his hands coming to rest on his lap. “Papa, I will not lie, they are… not promising.” He said quickly. 

“Oh? And what exactly is not promising about them?” Papa spoke quietly, his hands uncrossing from under his chin and reaching out, gesturing for the papers currently in Copia’s hands. 

“I have been unable to get in contact with anyone who has them in stock. Papa, I don’t suppose you know anyone?” He leaned forward, handing the manilla file of papers to him. He was hoping, praying even, that Secondo might be able to help him. Besides the expense reports still sitting menacingly on his desk back in his office, Copia still had to sort through the mail he had received during the weekend. 

Secondo hummed, his gloved fingers flicking through the order forms. “I do.” He said simply, his eyes still looking over the papers Copia had handed him. “I can get in touch with someone. Consider it done, I’ll have a ghoul drop the finished form off in your office by the morning.” He locked eyes with Copia, a subtle smirk on his lips. “They didn’t let you call in your favor from last year, hm?” 

Copia shook his head, his anxiety rapidly fading. “No, they did not. They said they didn’t know what I was talking about, I think it may have been a lie.” He chuckled softly. 

Secondo scoffed, letting the papers fall from his hands back into the manilla folder on his desk. “Inutile (useless). We need to change providers, I believe.” 

Copia sighed, nodding quickly. “I agree, Papa. Thank you for your help.” He smiled softly at him. 

Secondo nodded, a subtle smile sent towards Copia. “Of course, Cardinal.” He cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at him. “Now, I believe you have some expense reports from Terzo’s trip to Los Angeles to work through. I wouldn’t want to be you, especially with how much that idiota (idiot) spends on his hotel rooms. How a man could need that many extra towels is beyond me.” He shook his head with a barely audible scoff, leaning back in his chair and letting his eyes close. Copia could see where the papal paint around his eyes had begun to crease, the wrinkled skin underneath peeking through. But just as quickly as he had seen it, Secondo had met his gaze once more. 

Copia rose from his chair, ignoring the twinge in his lower back. “Yes, Papa, of course.” He nodded once more towards him, and then walked quickly to his office door. He heard Secondo sigh from behind him, and the scratch of his pen against paper. And as Copia closed the door as quietly as he could manage, he let out a deep breath. One less thing off of his plate, he said to himself.

—

And just as quickly as the day seemed to slide downhill, it leveled out just as quickly. Copia briskly walked down the Abbey hall, looking to his right to gaze out the window as he passed by. The gentle rays of the last hours of sunlight shone through the glass, just soft enough to light the way without blinding him. Through the sunlight he could see the nearby forest, the green boughs of leaves bouncing in the summer breeze. He could see dots of picnic blankets dotting the courtyard, no doubt Siblings and ghouls wanting to take in the weather while they could. And even when the sun fell down below the skyline, he knew those same people would lay under the waning gibbous until the lightning bugs went to sleep. 

Copia smiled to himself. His reports were done, his belly full from the light dinner he had with Sister in the corner of the dining hall, and his back had popped when he rose from his office chair earlier. No more candle crisis either! 

As he opened the door to his quarters, bumping the door open with his hip as he held onto the small plate of fruit, he grinned at the sound of his rats squeaking from the corner. 

“Yes, I hear you bambini (babies), I have a surprise!” He cooed as he shut the door, quickly walking over the elaborate setup in the corner. All of his precious rats were up, their delightful little faces peering curiously through the bars. Ira and Faustus were now awake, pawing at the wire. Copia set the plate of fruit down on the adjacent nightstand, his hands quickly unfastening the top of the cage so he could look in from above. 

“Ah, sì, naturalmente, (yes, of course). I have not forgotten my promise! Look at all of you.” He whispered, his hands dipping into the soft bedding below to pick up Francesca. He holds her to his chest, reaching one hand over to grab a piece of diced apple. He hands it to her, a delighted smile gracing his face as he watches her small paws gingerly hold the apple and raise it to nibble upon. 

“Yes, cara ragazza, it’s all for you. Don’t gorge yourself.” He giggles, his hands holding her close to his chest as her tail wraps around his wrist for safety. His rats below squeak plaintively, clearly offended that he had picked Francesca up first. He laughs at the way Sandro has risen onto his back feet, reaching out to him. 

“Yes, you will all have some, I promise. Abbi pazienza! (Have patience!).” He shakes his head in false exasperation, his heart swelling with the warm feeling of a day well done, a duty well fulfilled. 

And he also has time to play Dr. Mario.

[drop-of-eden]

Ghouls Partners Headcanons

Clarifications: polyamory, slight mention of NSFW, ghoul x reader, ghoul x ghoul, neutral reader

I think of ghouls as polyamorous creatures, they are a pack, they love each other, but even so they always have someone they feel more comfortable with, especially in the stage of its "heat"

quintessence edition

Omega

• 100 points for terzo! We all know that he would be a first option for this giant

•However, someone who is calm but outgoing would be a really good fit for him.

• just think abou it, He lives stressed, so, after dealing with some problems at the ministry, he goes to his favorite sibling of sin (of course you) room and simply enjoys the calm it gives him while absorbing their positive energy.

• If we talk about ghouls, I think he would like to spend his "heats" with the energetic Ifrit or some other big ghoul

• I think he simply wouldn't choose someone very physically small (both human and ghoul)

• Extra points if you actually allow yourself to be subjected to him without problems, I don't know if he would put up with someone who is rude or rebellious.

Aether

• I can imagine him going roundabout with Dew every time he needs to pass his "heat"

• However, as much as I love him, we all know that this gremblin is not good for relaxing or feeling completely comfortable.

• So, after a difficult day or simply because he felt in need of attention, Aether has a preference for a friendly and well-spoken s/o who always knows what to say.

• Physically, I don't think Aether has any preference, not as an Omega, I think Aether wouldn't care about anything as long as he feels comfortable with that person (literally, I love this man)

• If you're confident and actually make those delicious sounds while he's in her heat, by Satan, he's completely lost it.

Phantom

• The cute phantom puppy, in ghoul themes, his perfect safe place would be Rain or Swiss

• A loving s/o makes Phantom melt, literally, and if you can match his energy then all the better.

• Compared to the rest, I think that Phantom could feel more attached to a s/o who is a brother of sin, since he is someone who is completely familiar with the human world, and at the same time is also related to his demonic world.

• I don't say much, but little Phantom needs to be useful and wants to be used and told what to do (especially in his heat, even if he's not the first, he's always very sensitive and whines)

• person with short hair to make it easier for him to bite, suck and whine on their neck.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 10

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

I am so stoked for this chapter! I've been really getting into the story to the point that I want to read multiple chapters per day (I COULD but I also want to be able to take notes- so I cannot realistically with the amount of hours in a day I have) BUT I will continue with one a day.

Normally I have hot drinks while reading, but I am dehydrated as fuck, so take this as your (mostly mine, but also your) reminder to drink some water.

Let's get into it!

Wait! Like three seconds in and we are starting off strong! How can Sha Hualing control Shen Qingqiu??? p213

Holy shit, even in his new body he's being poisoned. I suppose, theoretically, if there is a person who never gets poisoned, there must be a person, statistically, who always get's poisoned. p214

Shen Qingqiu (probably): if I had a dime for every time I had demonic blood poisoning me I would have two, and that's not a lot, but fucked up it happened twice. LOL

also Shen Qingqiu (probably at this point): "and this is how I was abducted and then became a qi sex slave for a half demon cultivator" p214

Omg also, the fact that Sha Hualing tried to plant a fake SQQ to try and appease Luo Binghe. RIP to her this time for almost (accidentally) doing it again. no wonder Luo Binghe is so pissed! pp216-217

Oh god. SQQ probably doesn't die here but it would be equally terrible and funny if after all of this, second body and all, like less than 2 days in, Luo Binghe just accidentally destroys SQQ. immediate end of story p217

Well- the system is now fixed! p220

and now shen qingqiu is wearing basically a veil, oh my. p222

(Okay unrelated but related to the veil, I desperately need some arranged marriage au's. I am so ready to read the heck out of this pairing when I'm done the books).

I have a sneaking suspicion that this man (SQQ) does a terrible job of hiding his identity. "he just had to be especially careful so Luo Binghe didn't discover that he'd pull off a great escape using the Son-Moon Dew Mushrooms". p222

He really needs a better name than peerless cucumber. LOL I can't every time he introduces himself. p223

oh no, baby Luo Binghe has been mourning this entire time. p224

You know what, I'm not even mad that Little Palace Mistress is in this awful state, she is a vile character that has not grown on me at all. p226

Yeah Shen Qingqiu he definitely did not end up with any of the women because he has been super mourning for you my guy. (not that he knows this because he is oblivious af) pp228-229

Oh. My. God. This man really thinks that Luo BInghe is asexual. I can't wait till he finds out. LOL p230

Oooo! Another dream realm sequence p231

oh and we have two SQQ's (again I need this fanfiction)

aaaaaah luo binghe has clocked the real SQQ p236

Okay okay, he thinks this SQQ is part of the dream and does not know he is indeed the real deal. thank fuck for SQQ's sake I guess p236-237

Oop. now this guys is "yes and"ing Luo Binghe in the dream. Oh gosh I hope this ends alright. p237

The head pats! p238

OH MY GOD p239

DREAM REALM KISS??????!!!!!!!!!!!!! p239

(AHAHAAA his face in the art tho)

LOL the system p239

Bro just found out why Luo Binghe had no wives and is GOOPED. He really found out in the worst of ways for him ahahahahahahahah I am CACKLING p241

I truly don't know how these two end up together with SQQ not vibing at all. is it Stockholm syndrome? like I genuinely do not know how SQQ ends up realizing his emotions for this man.

SQQ is literally saved by the bell in this one. p242

Liu Qingge is here?!?!? has he been trying to avenge SQQ this entire time? p243

Ah, Fuck!

SO MANY THINGS HAPPENED.

We have a kiss, we have a SQQ now trying to be sneaky, I honestly don't know how this man is going to stay hidden- if at all.

And next chapter we have a showdown ?!?!?!?