#i sillied too close to the sun i am afraid | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thisgirlnamedblusy · 3 months ago

Note

Good morning/afternoon/evening to you dear writter,if you don't mind,I wanna give you a request to write; A bottom G!P Donna being overstimulated by the reader through cock riding or blow job.

You have my sincere thanks for taking this request. ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ

Yesss!!!!! Thank you for your request, dear friend!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Picnic

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff

Word count: 6,072

Summary: Maybe it's a good day for a picnic...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

“G-6,” you said, with a concentrated whisper, studying your chances of success.

“My aircraft carrier!” the Angie doll shrieked, waving her arms in an exaggerated manner at another defeat. “Silly, you sank my aircraft carrier!”

You laughed darkly, crossing your legs on the floor.

“Of course, that was my intention,” you said, rubbing your hands together in a sign of your imminent victory. “I think things are not in your favor, Angie”.

“Those sailors had families! Can't you hear them scream?” the doll said in an accusatory tone, darkening her porcelain gaze. “Help, I'm drowning! Silly (Y/N) is going to condemn us to be devoured by crabs!”

You rolled your eyes at the continuous dramatizations of that innocent and boring battleship.

“By crabs? That's very sinister…” you joked, shaking your head. “Donna was right. You don't know how to lose.”

“Donna says a lot of nonsense,” Angie said, with a haughty tone, crossing her arms. “She also says she loves you.”

You looked up and wished you could burn that wooden body with just the fury of your eyes.

“She also says you're her favorite doll,” you counterattacked, causing Angie to growl furiously, climbing up your board, looking at you from too close.

“I’m, silly,” she said with a nervous gasp, intimidating you with her disturbing gaze. You, accustomed to the doll's attitude, accustomed to her considering you an intruder, laughed amused, shaking your head.

“No,” you said without paying attention to her, looking at your board to check the situation of your ships. “I'm afraid you’re not, dear Angie.”

“No!? What are you implying?” the puppet asked, returning to her position. You smiled wickedly, writing down on a piece of paper the possible location of her ships.

“I’m her favorite doll” you whispered amused, pretending to tell her a secret.

Of course, Angie laughed out loud, shaking her hand in denial.

“Keep dreaming, stupid,” she said furiously, sitting on the floor.

You laughed softly and sighed, looking out the window. The sun, which normally seemed reluctant to illuminate the old mansion, filtered through the glass, making that gloomy house no longer so gloomy.

“Mm, it's a beautiful day...” you sighed, noticing how the heat of the light warmed your skin, how the outside seemed to call you.

“Tell it to my sailors, they're being devoured by crow sharks,” Angie murmured, not paying attention to your comments.

“Weren't they crabs?” you asked amused, frowning. “Besides, what is a crow shark?”

“You think I’m going to tell you, you silly intruder?” Angie said haughtily, knowing that she herself couldn’t explain the animal she had just invented.

“Oh, so I’m an intruder,” you said sarcastically, crossing your arms. “I’ll tell Donna.”

“No, no, no, no! Don’t tell Donna, she’ll punish me!” the doll protested, fidgeting nervously. “Shut up, you silly snitch!”

“Mm, so… What am I?” you asked with a mischievous smile, playing mercilessly with poor Angie's feelings.

“A fool, Donna's fool girlfriend,” the doll hissed, visibly annoyed with your attitude.

“You should thank me for playing battleship with you, I'm sure you'd get bored without me,” you said in a sufficient tone, making the doll growl.

“Bah, I could live without you,” Angie murmured, focused on her next move. “F-4, silly.”

“Water,” you sighed, looking out the window again, feeling the overwhelming weight of boredom pressing on your shoulders. “Stop trying, Angie, your submarine is on D-1 and D-2,” you said, arching your eyebrows.

“No! Look what you've done! The pressure has made their heads explode!” the doll shrieked, causing you to grimace in disgust at that irritating voice. “There are blood everywhere…”

“Angie… You're scary, you know that?” you said, brushing the dust off your dress, which danced hypnotically under the sun's rays. “Anyway… I'm going to see Donna.”

You walked through that strangely lit room, which had been your new home for a few wonderful months.

Living in a village like that could be a punishment, or a penance that one of your ancestors imposed on you. You never saw it that way.

You always knew how to adapt to all kinds of situations, to cope with your obligations as a devotee of the Black Gods. In reality, those dark shadows that flew over your heads never mattered to you, but at least you knew how to pretend.

You weren't an unhappy girl, a sad and melancholic teenager who dreamed of a better life. No, you were not like the others, you saw life with optimism, you always saw the light in the darkness, like the rays of the sun did.

The smile always adorned your face. Laughter was always ready to leave your lips. Maybe that was precisely what caught the attention of one of the village Lords, the ventriloquist, Donna Beneviento.

You had grown up with her dark presence, wondering who was inside that black dress, what kind of monster was hidden by that black veil. Your extroverted and slightly mischievous character forced you to find out.

Your desire to talk, to communicate with that dark lady, outweighed her desire for solitude and tranquility. It was not difficult to maintain a conversation, even two. The difficult thing was to not become addicted to her voice, to her lavender perfume, to her presence.

That strange kind of addiction drove you several times to cross that wooden bridge, to show up at the old estate with any clumsy excuse until, one day, the day she revealed her face, the day your lips finally touched, you no longer wanted to leave.

Anyway, no one was waiting for you in the village. You didn't want to miss the opportunity to love that dark woman, to tell her every day how beautiful she was, how much you loved her.

Like the moon and the sun, the cold and the heat, opposites attracted each other until they merged into one, the result of a romantic, sweet, tender relationship, far from the legends that the stupid villagers invented about her.

Not even her mental problems or the whims that the Black Gods caused in her body were enough reason to let your heart say goodbye to her, to end that addiction, that love, one that you were sure would be forever.

“Donna...” you hummed, peeking through the doors of the workshop.

There she was, always busy with her dolls, spending the time the only way she knew how, doing the same thing for years and years. Although, to tell the truth, since you arrived, her hobbies had changed... A bit.

“Ciao, tesoro,” the lady whispered, turning her head to look at you briefly, but returning to her work moments later.

You smiled, like every time you heard her melodic voice entering your ears, and approached the table, hanging seductively from her shoulders, kissing her lips in an impromptu manner, causing a shy laugh from the lady, who immediately looked away.

“Dolls, huh?” you joked, looking over her shoulder as she calmly sewed, nodding without looking at you. “What is that?”

“A little hat,” she commented, with a soft voice, distorted by her concentration, showing you the result of her work. “Do you like it?”

“Mm, I think it doesn’t fit on me,” you said amused, taking the garment and putting it on your head. Donna looked at you and laughed again, shaking her head.

“It's not for you, tesoro… It's for… Her,” she murmured, picking up a nearby doll, dressed in colors that perfectly matched that new hat.

“Oh, her,” you hissed, with a mocking look, giving the accessory back to her. “Hey, how many dolls have you made?”

“What do you mean?” Donna asked, fitting the hat on that porcelain head.

“Well… Just that, how many have you made? 100? 200?” you repeated with a frown, resting your head on her shoulder.

“Mm, let me see,” she whispered, not knowing it was a joke, as always. Her innocent attitude drove you crazy, but at the same time filled you with sadness. Poor Donna, she was always so lonely… “435”

“Wow, they are too many dolls…” you sighed amused, with a look of astonishment towards the notebook where she apparently had the data of her work.

“Mm,” she murmured simply, beginning to ignore you again, hopelessly focused on her dolls.

“Okay…” you sighed, kissing her cheek and leaving her alone, walking through the dark and sinister workshop. “Do you know that Angie has lost at battleship again?”

“Really?” she asked, with a thread of voice, pretending to pay attention to you.

You nodded, caressing the keys of the old piano erratically, accidentally pressing some of them, startling the lady in black.

“I'm sorry,” you said blushing. “I've always wondered what a piano is doing here…”

“It was my mother's,” Donna whispered, observing her most recent creation. You nodded curiously, looking at the old instrument. “When my father worked on the dolls, my mother used to play piano for him.”

“Oh, that's very romantic,” you sighed, leaning on a table.

“Do you think so?” she asked, frowning.

“Yes, you should teach me so I can do the same,” you said amused. A sweet smile formed on her face as she sighed, looking at you.

She clearly didn't like you interrupting her work, but she would never tell you, never.

“You know how to play it, don't you?” you asked curiously, caressing the keys again.

The lady in black slowly stood up, approaching you with a thoughtful look, starting to play that slightly out of tune piano, attracting all your attention. The soft melody of those keys relaxed your spirit, even if it was only for a few moments.

“How… nice,” you sighed with a rapt look, one that betrayed the great love you felt for her. “Beethoven?”

“Mozart, night serenade,” Donna commented returning to her work table. “It's been a long time since I played it.”

“Well… I think I'm disturbing you so…” you murmured, approaching her again, kissing her cheek again. “I think Angie wanted revenge.”

“No, tesoro, don't go,” she interrupted, grabbing your wrist. “I didn't mean to kick you out, I like you to keep me company.”

“Okay, but I warn you that it's hard to shut me up,” you joked, walking around the workshop again.

“I think I could get used to hearing your voice,” Donna sighed, with a tender smile, picking up another piece of fabric to sew.

Your hands touched the tables, those porcelain heads and arms that in other circumstances could be sinister. With a sweet voice, you hummed that gloomy melody, looking for something to do, something to take your mind off the wonderful day you were having, and that you were going to miss.

One of those dolls stood in your way, telling you in a mischievous voice: take me, take me.

You obeyed your mischievous instincts, taking that doll in your hands and walking slowly towards the lady, who of course, was not paying attention to you.

Amused, you bent down, raising the doll with your arms towards the brunette's field of vision, hitting her arm with that porcelain hand.

“Donna...” you whispered with a distorted voice, imitating the most appropriate voice for that small, inert girl. “Hello, hello, hello…”

The lady slowly turned to the doll, an amused smile on her face, her eyebrow arched.

“Look, I'm missing an arm… Can I have one?” you joked in that same high-pitched voice. Donna laughed, shaking her head.

“I'd rather take one of yours, (Y/N)!” the doll squealed impossibly.

“Ahhh!” you screamed in fright losing your balance and falling to the floor comically, looking at the lady with a hardened expression. “Hey! That's not fair…”

“Oh, have I scared you, tesoro?” the lady said, laughing in satisfaction, getting up from the chair and extending a hand for you to take, helping you up.

“You have to teach me how to do that too,” you whispered, rubbing your back, where you had fallen. Donna laughed, kissing you apologetically, in a gentlemanly way, gently grabbing your waist and bending your body.

“I couldn’t help it,” she whispered affectionately, rubbing her nose against yours, closing her eye to enjoy the contact.

“Okay, okay, you won,” you said, moving away and leaving that talking doll on the table. “Today it’s a beautiful day, you know?”

Donna nodded, sitting back down, not really interested in your words.

“Yeah, I noticed when we were having breakfast,” she murmured.

You rolled your eyes, unable to make her understand your confusing hints.

“Donna, what I mean is that we should take advantage of it, right?” you asked, approaching her again, resting your chin on her shoulder.

“Take advantage of it?” she asked confused, ignoring your approach.

“Yes, well, we could, we could go on a picnic around the grounds, the other day I saw a corner that could be very romantic,” you suggested, gently massaging her shoulders. “You… Me… The landscape… What do you say?”

“Mm, I don't know…” she murmured, shaking her head. “I have a lot of work.”

“Donna…” you sighed, tired of her reluctance to leave the mansion, to let the sun bathe her pale skin. “Come on… Let's do something different, I'm bored to death.”

“Are you bored with me?” she asked abruptly, with an intense look.

“No,” you said with a haughty look, removing her thousands of paranoia from her head. “Not with you, I'm bored… In general terms, you know.”

“No, I don't know,” she said, with a slightly colder look, trying to decipher your words.

“Come on, Donna…” you sighed again, putting on a good girl face, blinking childishly. “Let's go on a picnic, it will be funny.”

“Funny?” she asked, shaking her head.

“Yes, much more than being in Batman's cave all day,” you joked, pointing at the workshop with your hands.

“Whose cave?” she asked, frowning. Of course, she had never read those forbidden comics. “(Y/N), I don't…”

“What's wrong with going on a picnic? I think it's quite romantic,” you said amused, insisting softly. “Just imagine…” you whispered, getting closer to her ear. “A delicious meal, the sound of nature…”

“(Y/N)…” she sighed, nervous because of the velvety and terribly sensual tone of your voice.

“Mm, Donna, it can be very, very romantic…” you continued whispering, checking that your tender words soaked in a subtle desire were beginning to make the lady nervous. To increase the intensity of your provocations, you lowered your hand to her leg, caressing it in a seductive manner. “You… Me…”

“And Angie!” a shrill voice interrupted your attempt at seductive blackmail, giving another terrible scare to your heart.

“Ah!” you shrieked, moving away from the lady, who did the same, hiding her excitement, which was already evident in the fabric of her dress. “Angie, how did you get here?”

“By elevator, silly, how else?” the doll mocked, jumping into the lap of her owner, who was moving nervously. “Donna, Donna, Donna!” the puppet shrieked, standing on top of her and shaking her shoulders.

“Gods, Angie…” the doll maker protested, with a furious look. “Stay still, come on, go down…”

“Who are you talking to?” the puppet joked, pointing with her finger at the lady's lap, who pushed her down to the floor. “How sensitive…”

“Hey, Angie, get out, we're talking,” you said, crossing your arms.

“No! I want to go on a picnic! I want to go on a picnic!” she shouted, kicking the floor in a childish way.

“No, no way,” Donna said, breathing calmer, getting up from the chair. “It's just for (Y/N) and me.”

“Oh…” you sighed pleasantly surprised, walking petulantly towards the brunette, who was fighting with the doll to stop her from pulling on her dress. “So… Are we going on a picnic?”

“I can't deny you anything, (Y/N)…” she sighed, kissing you slowly, to the displeasure of the doll, who made an unpleasant gesture with her hands. “If you ask me with that smile…”

You blushed at her seductive voice, one much more powerful than yours, which was capable of turning you into a trembling mess in less than a second.

“Come, let's see what we can prepare,” Donna said, tugging your hand affectionately while you stuck your tongue out at the puppet, emphasizing your victory.

“Hey, silly (Y/N) made fun of me!” Angie squealed, climbing like a spider on Donna's body, causing her to sigh tiredly. “I want to go too, Don…”

“Angie, scendi,” the lady in black hissed, annoyed, resuming her way to the kitchen, with her soft hand caressing yours.

The doll obeyed, but, far from calming down, she protested with a kick to your shin.

“Angie!” you shouted, losing your nerves because of the doll's attitude, which Donna calmed with a gentle caress.

“Take me on a picnic, you sticky fools! I want to go!”

“No, Angie,” Donna whispered, shaking her head, already entering the kitchen.

After preparing a large lunch, you prepared to leave the estate to let the sun caress your skin gently.

Spring was always your favorite season; the flowers gave color to that normally gray landscape, the birds camouflaged the sound of the crows... Everything seemed different, as if the Black Gods themselves had taken a break to let that dark landscape shine.

“Look, that's the place I'm telling you about,” you said, pointing to a corner near the gardener's old house. It was a quiet place under a tree, with a spectacular view of the great waterfall that guarded the Beneviento House.

“It looks like a nice place,” the brunette commented, following you through the landscape, spreading the blanket where you indicated.

“I told you. Sometimes I come here to read,” you said, sitting next to her and opening a bottle of wine.

“Let's see, let's see…” an annoyed voice interrupted the calm that was beginning to form between the two of you. You groaned, pretending to shiver. “Hey, there's nothing for me here!”

“Of course not,” you said, hissing nervously, snatching one of your sandwiches from Angie. “You don't have a stomach.”

“That's it, remind it to me! Donna, (Y/N) messed with me!” the doll protested, pointing at you as if she were a little girl. Donna rolled her eye but smiled playfully, filling both glasses with wine.

“Remind me why you let her come,” you whispered, settling down on the blanket and unwrapping the food. “It was supposed to be a romantic picnic.”

Donna laughed, shaking her head, stealing a wine-flavored kiss from you, a romantic one, which pushed the doll away from you.

“I don't think it's a problem, she has things to entertain herself with here. She won't bother us, I give you my word,” the lady in black said, pinching your chin tenderly, winking at you.

Well, Donna was right. The doll walked happily around the area without being too annoying. You, meanwhile, enjoyed a silent meal, a cool breeze that seemed to want to envelop your bodies. Peace. Tranquility, love... Those were the only words that came to your mind, the only thing you were able to see.

“I have to admit it, (Y/N),” the lady in black sighed, leaning on the tree while you did the same on her body.

You contemplated the blue sky, losing yourself in that unusual landscape, closing your eyes to feel more the softness of her caresses on your hair, the rise and fall of her calm breathing.

“Mm?” you murmured with a tender growl, moving on her body, guiding her hands to surround it.

“It was a good idea,” she whispered, kissing your head slowly, letting her lips delight in the softness of your hair. “This is very romantic…”

“I told you so,” you said in a mischievous way, biting your lip and squinting to make out some shape in the clouds. “Look, Donna, do you see that cloud over there?”

She guided her gaze to the indicated place, concentrating on it.

“What's wrong with it?” she asked curiously, pulling your body so that it wouldn't slip off hers.

“It looks like a rabbit, see? Look at the tail,” you said dreamily, with a sweet voice, breathing calmly from the peace of that moment.

“Mm, it's true,” Donna commented, turning your head to kiss you briefly, smiling brightly.

“I liked to play guessing what the clouds looked like with my brothers,” you commented, playing with her hands. “You wouldn't believe how many different things we saw.”

“That's a bit subjective, isn't it?” Donna asked, curious, but without losing the sweetness of her voice.

You shrugged, sighing calmly, looking for one more cloud to analyze with your creative eye.

“Maybe, but it was funny,” you said passively, gesturing with your hand. “Look, look, what do you say about that one?”

“Mm…” the lady in black murmured thoughtfully, tilting her head. “I think… I think it could be… A bird.”

“A bird? Come on, it's very clear that it's a shuriken,” you joked, shaking your head. Donna laughed again, kissing you on the cheek, placing her lips on your ear.

“You read too many contraband comics,” she whispered amused, settling on your shoulder. “If Mother Miranda finds out…”

“She'd ask for them,” you mocked in a petulant tone. “They're funny, you should read them.”

“No, thanks, I prefer my books,” the lady laughed, kissing your ear and leaning on your shoulder. “Besides, it's still a bird.”

“Mm, okay,” you said, nodding. “What about that one?”

“That one… It's a heart,” the lady murmured, sighing romantically, calmly.

“Yeah, well, that's what I was going to tell you,” you joked, locating more possible clouds for your game. “Oh... Look, an "Angienolimbus"...” you sighed ironically, pointing at the doll, who was coming closer to annoy you again.

“What are you doing, silly fools?” she asked, climbing annoyingly up your body. “Were you playing something? You can't play anything without me!”

“Oh, I don't think you'll like this game, Angie,” you said, with a feigned look of sadness, with a dark glint in your eyes.

“Try,” the doll challenged you.

“I was just calculating how many kisses I could give Donna in a minute,” you said amused, turning around, moving down the doll and approaching the lips of the lady in black, kissing them slowly. “Do you want to count them?”

“Ugh, I'm leaving,” Angie protested, among your amused laughs.

You didn't move from your position, continuing with your slow but short kisses, crawling to rest your body on top of hers in a more than suggestive position.

“Hey, tesoro,” Donna interrupted, holding your head so you would stop attacking her with kisses. “She's gone, you can stop.”

You sighed, but a mischievous smile was already crossing your face, your eyes continued to shine with evil and your body refused to move.

“Well, I just don't want to stop,” you commented, biting your lip again, kissing the brunette deeper and deeper, letting her get carried away too, keeping you against her with a soft grip on your hips.

“(Y/N), wait...” she stammered, when your lips got bored of hers and began to move down her neck, causing your hips to move slowly, seeking contact with hers.

“What's wrong?” you asked with a purr, biting her earlobe. “Don't you want it to be a perfect day?”

“Um... I... I...” she stammered, moving to get away from your wet kisses, from the caresses that went down her dress. “(Y/N), not, not here.”

“Why? It's your territory, no one is coming here…” you whispered, pretending to pout, making the lady more nervous, increasing the intensity of the subtle movements of your hips,

“But, but Angie…” Donna protested, looking around, embarrassed by what your simple touch, by what a couple of well-calculated kisses, caused in her body. “She's going to catch us…”

“No, I don't think so, Angie must be very far from here,” you hummed, playing with the buttons of her dress, continuing the wet caresses of your lips on her body. “Come on, don't be boring…”

“I'm not boring, just, just…” Donna stammered, panting for your kisses, for your suddenly mischievous attitude, for knowing what your intentions were.

“Your words can say whatever they want,” you murmured with an amused look, running your hand down her dress, feeling the excitement that deformed the black fabric, its obvious and charming sensitivity. “But your body…”

“You are cruel,” she whispered, closing her eye when your hand began to caress her erection gently, almost tickling it. “Very… Very cruel.”

“Oh, do I really look like that to you?” you joked, searching for the edge that separated both parts of her dress, putting the tips of your fingers inside, speaking very close to her lips, to her increasingly nervous breathing.

“Okay, fine,” she finally said, releasing her shaft and moving so your hips were on top of her, pushing aside your underwear with a quick movement, letting that spring breeze make contact with the heat of your moisture.

“Hey, hey… Not so fast, honey,” you said, moving away from her attempt to take you, playing with her, running your hand again through her trembling, terribly sensitive arousal.

“(Y/N), come on, it's not the best place to play…” she protested, with an impatient gasp, joining her hand to yours, stimulating it slowly, raising and lowering it. “Hurry up.”

“No, no, no…” you teased again, pushing her hand away, letting your wet folds brush against her shaft, but only just brushing against it, eliciting a timid moan from the brunette, who was already trembling with anticipation. “What's your hurry? Let's enjoy the moment, Donna.”

She nodded uncertainly, letting your lips devour hers again, tirelessly, repressing her desire to enter you, to release the tension that your indecent games had caused in her body.

Donna was sensitive, very sensitive. Just one word from you could make her terribly excited. You supposed it was because of those terrible years of loneliness. You didn't care too much. That attitude made you feel desired like you had never felt before.

Her body trembled, dancing with yours, with the sound of wet and hot kisses camouflaging the pleasant sound of birds. Moans began to replace the gasps. The movements of your hips excited the brunette even more. Donna followed your frenetic rhythm of kisses and bites, forgetting about those absurd worries.

“I need you, amore mio…” she whispered in your ear, moving desperately so the tip made contact with your eager entrance, so she could take you, so she could fulfill her wishes.

You, of course, shook your head, moving down, devouring her neck, marking it with your teeth, licking and tasting her skin.

“Patience, Donna…” you whispered amused, moving away from her, pretending to think about what your next lustful step was going to be. You didn't have to think too much. “Mm, I think I'll have some dessert.”

“(Y/N)!” Donna protested, after discovering with your movements, what exactly you meant, while your kisses slowly went down the black fabric of her dress having a set objective, a prank that your mind had already thought of. “Don’t say those kind of things…”

“Come on, you like it… See?” you said amused, making her look away, unable to see how your hand played with her erection again, how your mouth got closer and closer, ready to devour it. “Look how hard it is, Donna…”

“Shut up, no, don't say that,” the lady protested again, panting when your caresses intensified, became slow and tight, just like you knew she liked.

“Mm, you're right,” you murmured with a frown, watching Donna's erratic movements, trying to not look at you, to not see what you were doing, but, at the same time, she couldn't seem to help it. “Enough talking, don't you think?”

“Wait… Wait!” her pleading words were camouflaged with a deep moan, when your lips made contact with her throbbing erection, surrounding it, savoring the glow of her arousal.

“Mm,” you moaned, with her shaft in your mouth, with her soft skin being embraced by your wet lips, with your tongue dancing in the most exciting places.

Donna could no longer complain, she could only moan with your actions, she could only put a hand on your head, keeping you just right there.

“Cazzo… So… So good…” the brunette murmured, tilting her head back, moving her hips to the rhythm of your mouth, of the hand that joined that wet and obscene kiss.

Not even the sounds of spring could overshadow the wetness of your lips, the gestures of your mouth going down her shaft slowly, licking, sucking, doing all kinds of things to poor, sensitive Donna.

“Do you like it, honey?” you said, making eye contact with her bright eye, with her forehead sweaty from excitement, with the blush on her cheeks. “Do you want me to go slower?”

“I-I don't know,” she murmured, pushing your head down again, so your kisses, that wet embrace of your mouth, could continue. “(Y/N)…”

“Is it too much for you? You're shaking,” you joked, pointing mockingly at one of her hands, which remained clenched in a strong fist with white knuckles.

You loved seeing her like that, overwhelmed by pleasure, unable to think or act rationally. You could continue for a while longer, you wanted her to scream with pleasure.

“I, I like so… So much…” she said in a low voice, biting her lip, moaning uncontrollably when your movements began to rage, when your hand acquired a frenetic and smooth rhythm at the same time, stopping at the tip, playing with your mischievous tongue, her hips shaking nervously.

“I see…” you murmured, running your tongue along her trembling shaft, along her shiny tip.

The pleasure was starting to overwhelm Donna and you knew it, you felt it. It was just what you wanted, for her to stir, for the sensations to be intense for her, for her to never forget that day, each of the times your lust had eluded her shyness.

“Stop, stop…” she told you, putting a hand on your shoulder, trying to push you away. “(Y/N), stop please… It’s… It’s too much…”

“Too much? I’ve only just started, darling,” you said with a sad look, shaking your hand harder, making Donna look away again, letting out the pleasure she felt by biting her closed fist. “Are you having a bad time, Donna?”

“Yes, I… I… No, I can’t… Hold it any longer…” she stammered, growling obscenely, squeezing her eye tightly to suppress her desire to release. You would never torture her like that. Besides, you had many plans to end that romantic picnic.

“Don’t hold back,” you whispered, resuming your kisses, your licks, increasing the strength of your grip on her shaft, forcing Donna to feel even more pleasure than she could bear. “I love seeing you like this… Crazy for me…”

“(Y/N)!” she squealed when, after a high-pitched moan, her hips jerked and you felt her hot release inside your mouth, making you moan too, savoring your victory, the victory of your indecency over her fears.

“Mm, baby…” you moaned amused, wiping the excess of your teasing from her skin, letting it go down your throat, heating up your own desire. “You're delicious…”

“Can't you be less vulgar?” the doll maker asked annoyed, catching her breath as you continued your tasks, collecting the fruit of your victory with your tongue, smiling mischievously. “That, that wasn't right…”

“Are you kidding? That was really good,” you said, climbing back up her body, capturing her lips with an anxious gasp, knowing the shame it caused her to taste herself, to know what she had done and where she had done it. “I love to see you enjoy, Donna.”

“I don't like to see you like this... It's humiliating for you,” she said, caressing your cheek, with a sad expression. “Tesoro…”

“Nonsense, that's what I wanted,” you said amused, joining your hips with hers again, letting your entrance be caressed by her exhausted shaft. “Besides… Well, I think it's my turn now…”

“Yes, okay, I'm, I agree but… But… Come on, let's go home. I don't feel comfortable… Here,” the lady in black said, looking around. There was nothing, no one, you were alone and you had no intention of letting her escape, not after the pleasure that continued to throb in your body.

“Shhh,” you hissed, putting a mischievous finger on her lips, silencing her protests while your other hand grabbed her soft shaft, positioning it at your entrance with a skillful play of your hips. “You must stay here, my love…”

“But, but, (Y/N)… It’s, it's not…Hard…” she said, laughing nervously as you bleated on her hips, enjoying feeling her inside of you, the subtle movements of your body, the soft caresses on your walls.

“Mm… I'm convinced that won't be a problem…” you whispered with a voice filled with lust, noticing how she moved inside you, how it grew little by little, stretching you more and more. “See?”

“Sei molto insistente…” she murmured, grabbing your back, glancing at your dress, which hid her obscene movements inside you, something that made her moan.

“Yes…” you joked, biting your lip, moaning from the increasingly intense pressure between your legs. “So… Big…”

“Tesoro, don’t… Don't tell me…” she protested, adapting to your movements, to the very well-studied dances of your hips, to the tight embrace of your walls in her recovered erection.

“I'm flattering you,” you said between gasps, controlling as always, the rhythm of that sexual dance, dominating the situation completely, playing with her, playing with your slow but intense riding. “Don't you like when I flatter you, darling?”

“S-Sì...” she answered, closing her eye from the immense pleasure of your caresses, from the kisses you gave to her lips, from the whispers in her ear that made her tremble with pleasure, taking her to the limit again.

“Of course you like it,” you said amused, containing the pleasure you felt, not letting her see that you were also being overwhelmed by pleasure.

She might be a Lord, but you were the one in charge.

“You like when I move like that, don't you?” you purred, going up until her body almost left yours, going down again, causing her to moan furiously as she nodded.

“I like it, I like it too much, (Y/N),” she murmured, gaining some confidence, staying inside of you with the firm grip of her hands on your legs, letting your body be the one she manipulated now, increasing the speed of her thrusts.

“You drive me crazy Donna, you're perfect,” you moaned, completely unleashed, dancing on her with a frenetic rhythm, feeling how your body deformed with the intrusion, how the wetness slid down your legs, mixing with her own previous release. “Perfect…”

“Oh, shut up,” Donna said abruptly, unable to bear all that pleasure, moaning in your ear with each impact, with each trip she made along your wet walls.

“Uh, that sounds like a threat,” you joked, your voice broken by your own moans from the shame you felt being so close to your own limit. You would never let her see it. You would never allow her to think she dominated you, although deep down, she always did.

“Stop, stop moving like that…” she protested, when your hips played with her again, when her attempts to increase the pace were frustrated with the interruption of your movements, letting the sensation be more intense, letting you be completely filled with her.

“Mm, close?” you teased, pouting, moving subtly, dancing with the tip at your entrance, caressing it without letting it enter again. “So good, Donna…”

She could only nod, lowering your hips with a growl, completely losing control, making you ride at her pace, between moans and grunts that did nothing but disturb the quiet calm of the forest.

“Shit!” you moaned in frustration when your walls tightened, when your whole body tensed and released in an embarrassing way. This time she had won, although not for long.

“Don't... Say...” the lady in black hissed, taking advantage of your moment of weakness to move faster, to release herself inside of you without warning, with a scandalous moan.

“Donna...” you moaned again, mitigating a second orgasm, one caused by those wet caresses, by her heat filling you, claiming you.

“(Y/N)...” she sighed, catching her breath, studying the situation, looking for Angie's prying eyes that seemed not to be present. “You always do with me whatever you want…”

“Mm, no, I always do with you whatever you want…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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speedycoffeedelight · 6 months ago

Text

An Animalistic Disaster

CH-19 : A Deer Vs Wolves

Masterlist

Summery :Where you get your ass saved from being almost killed.

*Some time after you left*

Alastor and Niffty was sitting outside the cabin, lazily enjoying each others company. Niffty had turned into a human and leaned against Alastor's body. Alastor, even though he hated dogs,he has learned to at least tolerate Niffty's presence. That doesn't mean he allowed her to stay close to him in her full dog form. That form irked him.

"Hey Alastor.." Niffty finally broke the silence. "Do you think you'll ever transform?"

'Of course I will. Why would you doubt that?'

"Because what if you don't like (Y/n) ever? You need to like her so you can be human again."

Alastor scoffed and looked away. ' Don't you worry your little head about it. I will find a way somehow. I am the radio demon after all.'

Niffty still wasn't convinced as she looked into the distance again. "You know, she's likes you a lot! We talk about you sometimes."

That got his attention. He turned his head towards Niffty again. 'What did you guys talk about? It better not be something to tarnish my reputation my dear!'

" That's girl's talk silly. I can't tell you that! " Niffty chuckled with both hands covering her mouth. Alastor rolled his eyes at such a display ."But I can tell that she really likes you."

'We know that already. That isn't something new. I'm used to ladies fawning over me.' Alastor thought back to his time as a human in the 19's. Indeed, despite his colour back then, women would throw themselves at him nonchalantly. It was both a blessing and a curse for him. Blessing since it helped his popularity grow, curse since he hated those type of contacts. This lowered a lot after he became an overlord. People were far to afraid to approach him then.

"Yes but she's different. She might like you but she'll never push herself onto you. You're rumoured to be asexual and she respects that."

'I'm a what now?'

"Asexual!" Niffty repeated herself. "Don't you know what it is?"

'I'm afraid not dear. Is it one of those modern slangs?'

"Of course not! Let me explain what it is then."

And thus Niffty spent almost an hour and a half explaining different types of sexualities to him, including asexuality. It took a lot of tries to get Alastor to properly understand the concept.

' So you mean to say, that it's normal to not want to engage in such activities? My, all this time I thought I just hadn't found the right girl for me to have those desires. Or worse, there was something wrong with me...' Alastor's smile faltered a bit. It was crazy how times had changed. Normally he didn't like such changes but this was one of the better ones.

'Of course, not that I mind about having something wrong within me. Haha! I am a serial killer after all.' His smile came back as quickly as it disappeared, not wanting to seem vulnerable in front of someone. He supposed he could admire your respect about his boundaries too. Unlike those other girls in his past, you actually cared to make him comfortable, no matter how much you liked him. It made him feel a bit....warm inside.

He spent the next few hours just chatting with Niffty. As sun began to set, Vaggie came over to the pair.

"Hey, (Y/n) hasn't returned yet. It's already getting late. She said she'd be back before sunset. Have any of you guys seen her?"

Niffty and Alastor looked at each other and shook their head. "No...we haven't. We've just been chatting here all afternoon." Vaggie sighed, worry immenent in her face. "I see... sorry for bothering you then."

As Vaggie went back to the cabin, she couldn't help but think about what might have happened to you. You were an adult human. You could handle a night out yourself. Still worries begun to rush in one after another.

"Alastor...you don't think something happened to her do you?" Before Alastor could reply, a howl broke through the night. Both Niffty and Alastor's ears perked up. A blue light caught in the corner of their eyes. Whipping their head towards it, they strangely found a bright blue butterfly that was seemingly glowing in the dark.

Just like you before, they couldn't help but follow it. It felt like it was the right course of action. Though they couldn't tell why. They began to chase after the butterfly at full speed as it was rushing through the forest. Niffty had already transformed into her dog form to run faster.

Soon Niffty picked up scent of something. It was blood. There a familiar scent with it. Your scent.

Niffty's eyes widened with the realization as she shouted at Alastor to let him know. Soon enough, they were able to hear faint growls, snarls from distant. What really made their heart almost stop was the low moaning of you.

You tried. You really tried to hold on by yourself as long as you could while trying to find find a way to escape. You picked up a nearby branch you found to defend against this horde of wolf that were dead set on eating you.

But there were only much you can do. After some time, you were bleeding all over, barely standing. A wolf's claw teared a big slash on your back. Another one almost teared your leg off before you gave it a good punch. There were small scratchs and bite marks all over. The blood coming out from all over your body was starting to harden on your clothes.

It was hurting to stand already as your body reached it's limit. You collapsed on your knees as the bloody branch you were holding fell down with a thud. You couldn't do this, not anymore. It all hurt too much. You felt tears pricking at your eyes as you thought of your inevitable death. Would there even be anything left of your body after these wolves finished eating you? How much would it...hurt?

A wolf jumped on you, teeths bared to finally consume your sweet flesh. It's teeth were only a few inches above your face as you closed you eyes. Suddenly something small but fierce jumped onto its neck from a side and bit onto it, pushing it to the ground. A sickening crunch followed soon after.

You opened your eyes warrily a little. Your vision was still blurry so you couldn't see clearly. Judging by the sound of the small thing...it was probably a dog. It looked back at you and transformed.

"(Y/n)!.......okay?? We'll...out..here.."

You couldn't hear her words clearly. You saw a big black figure rush through and stand in front of you protectively while facing the wolfs. Did they come to protect you? If so, you could rest a little right? You finally collapsed and shut your eyes.

Your head fell down on Niffty's lap as she shook you to keep you awake. 'Niffty my dear! Focus on protecting (Y/n) and getting her back to the cabin. I'll deal with the wolves!'

Alastor shouted out while looking forward at the canines. It was clear the wolves remembered him just as he did, increasing their anger tenfold. His consciousness was shouting at him to run. He doesn't need to do this. You weren't worth risking his life for. But against his better judgement he was still standing here, between you and these vicious animals.

One of the wolfs lunged forward as he quickly moved out of the way and pierced it with his antlers. But another one quickly followed and bit behind him. He kicked it off him as fresh trail of blood flew from his body.

"Alastor! Her conditions getting worse!" Niffty said screaming. "She'll die if we don't do something about it!"

Alastor knew that already. Niffty didn't have to spell it out for him to know how dire your situation is. He only gritted his teeth. No matter how much he thought, he couldn't think of a way out. It seemed like you understood that as well.

"L..eave..me..go.."

You choked out with the last of your breath before blacking out. Alastor pulled his ears back. You remained ever the good girl till your last drop of consciousness. Always sacrificing yourself for others sake. How admiring....

It's not like that thought didn't cross his mind. Leaving you here should be the wise course of action here. Yet why did did he feel so....bad? Is it because he lived with you all this time? Or when he saw how careful you are with touching him when you were stitching? Or the things Niffty told him about you this afternoon? He wasn't sure. He knew if he returned without you, everyone would shun him out.

"Haha...." He chuckled bitterly at himself. Perhaps you have began to make an effect on him. Whatever happens, he decided,

He was going to stay by your side.

Golden light shone brightly along his body, blinding the wolves that were about to approach him. Alastor looked at his hands. "Finally... about time..."

Suddenly a familiar blue light shone in the corner of Niffty's eyes. Turning her head towards it she saw the butterfly again. It was sitting on top of a carcass. Wait no, it was sitting on top of a handle. A handle that sparkled brightly from the moonlight radiating of it now. It was (Y/n)'s knife, Niffty recognised.

Looking around, when she saw no wolves close by she chased to it. The butterfly flew away again into the distance as she arrived. Niffty picked up the knife in a swift motion. "Alastor! Catch!"

Alastor eye's darted towards Niffty's voice that wasn't behind him anymore. He was about to scold her for leaving you alone but held his tongue when he saw the sparkle of a knife shine in her hands before she threw it at him. He caught it effortlessly in his right hand. As soon as she threw it, she ran back to you and scratched at a wolf that was threatening to come too close for comfort while growling.

Alastor was bleeding from his forehead and multiple gashes from all over his body. But he felt newfound strength flow through him as soon as he held the knife. Ah, he missed this, this thrill of the hunt. He had a crazed expression on his face as he looked over at the wolves standing before him now. The ears on his head perked up as it sensed a wolf coming in closer. Just as it launched he moved out of the way and cut a big slash across it's neck and kicked it away. The wolf's now limp and dead body fell onto the ground beside you and Niffty.

"Come on, it's time to play, puppies..."

On the other hand, everyone was worried sick at the cabin. Angel found the bag you left at the edge of the forest and brought it home.

"What if something bad happened to her... Vaggie I'm scared!"

"Clam down toots! I'm sure she's fine.... probably..." Angel looked away, not being convinced by his very own statement.

"We cannot find Alastor and Niffty either. If Niffty was here, maybe she could have sniffed (Y/n) out." Pentious pointed at his nose. Husk took a gulp of orange juice you had since alcohol was gone. You really needed to stock up on some alcohol.

"What if we all go find 'er?" Cherri proposed. "She should be around somewhere here right? Since her bag was found close, she should be close as well."

"We... could do that...but what if we get lost? It'll take forever for everyone to get back together again." Vaggie looked at everyone present. "But it'll be our last choice, if she or Alastor or Niffty doesn't come back within half an hour. We're going out."

The fight was going much better then before. Alastor easily transformed between deer and human befitting of the situation. He could stab a wolf with a knife and then toss it in the air and kick another in its shin after transforming. Then again collect the knife after becoming human. It was fun.

But this couldn't go on forever. He knew that from the fatigue coursing through his body. He had to end this quickly while the adrenaline was still present. After some more slashes and stomps, he remained the only one standing in a field of fresh corpses.

He didn't have time to celebrate his victory. As soon as the last wolf was down, he quickly returned to you. The black stripes of his dress has been painted red with both his blood and the animals. He crouched down to inspect your pulse. It was weak, but you still had it. Alastor let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding.

Alastor put the knife away in his pocket. He softly picked you up in his arms, careful not to put too much pressure on the cuts of your body. His own body was hurting severely, but he needed to be strong for your sake.

"Niffty, run back to the cabin and tell Vaggie to come immediately. And also bring someone to help carry her quickly. I'll be right behind you."

Niffty nodded her head and began sprinting towards your cabin. Alastor looked at your face with a soft gaze. He leaned down and whispered, "Stay strong my dear. You'll be fine, I promise.." With a final breath he began heading towards the cabin as moonlight shone on both of you.

Perhaps because he was so caught up to save you, he didn't notice a pair eyes watching the whole thing.

"Interesting...."

By the time Niffty reached the cabin, she found all of them standing outside, ready to depart in search of you. Their eyes widened seeing Niffty with blood on her dress.

"NIFFTY WHAT HAPPENED??"

It didn't take long enough for Vaggie to reach Alastor with Niffty alongside to guide her. Alastor gave a small smile towards the crowd as they collectively gasped seeing the both of you. Without wasting a moment, you were transferred on the back of Husk as Vaggie cast her healing. Alastor was about to fall down but Pentious caught him just in time.

"Hang onto me!" Pentious took one of Alastor's hands and slid it over his shoulder to support him. Vaggie kept casting her healing all the way to the cabin as Charlie started to cry. You were placed in your room with Vaggie, Charlie and Cherri. They changed your bloody cloths and cleaned you up first. Only then the boys were allowed to come.

Alastor on the other hand was placed on the lounge in the other room with only Niffty and Husk. Niffty sew up all the cuts and scratches he had and Husk just stood in a corner watching. Alastor wasn't comfortable with showing anyone else his bare body.

After that was done Alastor laid down on the lounge with a cover on his body as Angel walked in and popped next to him sighing and started a smoke.

" How's....(Y/n)?" Alastor found himself asking while looking at the ceiling. He didn't want to appear too worried for you, yet he could help but be anxious. " She'll live. Vaggie's doin all she can to save her." Angel took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke. "But what exactly happened? Why was she in that forest and how did you two find her?"

Alastor and Niffty began to tell their tale from when they found the butterfly to Niffty seeing the butterfly on the knife to Alastor carrying you. He skipped the part of his determination to protect you though. But he greatly told the tale of him slaughtering the wolves with great detail that left Angel's stomach turning.

" That butterfly...do ya think it could be a demon like us?"

"It's very much possible. It certainly wasn't any normal butterfly. But how did it gain the power to control us? I don't think any of us had any power like that."

" What if it's something entirely different from us? " Niffty jumped in.

" That would certainly explain this phenomenon. Though we can't really be sure. To know about it properly we need that butterfly. But that isn't a safe choice considering what happened today. "

A silence befell the room once again as Cherri slipped into the room. She took a sit next to Angel. "Vaggie's working her magic right now. If she wasn't here, not sure what woulda happened to her."

" Yeah...also smiles, ya transformed..." Angel said with a toothed grin looking back at him. He had deep curly brown hair and light brown skin. Two fluffy deer ears stayed atop his head. His glasses which were drowning in blood when they first saw him was cleaned again and sitting on his face. Plus Angel could swear he saw a brown tail poking out from behind Alastor's dress when Pentious carried him back.

Alastor's amber coloured eyes scanned Angel's face. He knew exactly what Angel was trying to get at.

" So ya do have feelings for-"

" None of that! "

" But you needed to have intense feelings

to transform ~"

" I merely wished to protect her that's

all. If I came without her you all would have scorned me."

" Same thing!"

With Alastor transforming, it meant the whole crew was human once again. Things should be a lot easier now.

" Also...does (Y/n) know about this? That

we need to have feelings for her to

transform? "

" Obviously not. We all collectively agreed to keep this a secret from her."

The night went by rather quickly. Before Alastor knew it, he was falling asleep. The fatigue and the effects of blood loss finally caught up to him.

You opened your eyes the next day at afternoon. The first thing you realised that almost every part of you hurt. With a huff and a grunt you pushed yourself up a bit. Vaggie was sleeping lying her head on the bed and and her hands on your torso. Charlie was asleep on the desk on the other side of the room. Angel came in with a plate of food and he let out a scream seeing you awake. He quickly put the food down on the table and rushed to you.

Apparently Vaggie has been healing you nonstop throughout the night, she pushed her body to her limit and passed out around the morning . Charlie was the same, she used her ability to smoothly clean your cuts and remove branches stuck to you. Your eyes widened hearing about Alastor.

" Alastor? Where is he?"

" He's fine, he's in the other room. Do you want me to call him to you?"

" Yes, him and everyone else. I want to know what exactly happened..."

Alastor wore one of Pentious's shirt's for now. He and others soon joined in your room. You made sure to talk quietly so you didn't wake up the sleeping girls. They deserve to rest.

"That butterfly....that damn butterfly is the reason behind all this.."

"But I don't understand one thing." Pentious looked lost in throught with a hand on his chin. "Why would that butterfly bring you both to danger and then help you fight back?"

"To know that we need to be in contact with it. But there's no need to rush considering what happened."

You sighed loudly, all that matters that all of you were still in one piece. You'll have to take a few days off from your work to recover. You'll ask your colleague to cover for you. He owes you one anyway for the time you secured him a date with his crush.

That being said, you finally looked at Alastor properly. This guy was handsome as fuck. His brown locks fell onto his bandaged forehead in a lazy manner. His honey eyes locked into yours as he felt you staring at him. You quickly averted your gaze, but you knew that he knew you were staring. A smirk formed on his face as he leaned in close to you.

"Don't I get a thank you for saving you back there, my darling?"

You let out a small yelp and whipped your head towards him. Then again backed your face away when you found his face inches apart from yours. When did he get so damn close?

"Yes uh, thank you..for saving me back there."

Alastor's grin just got wider seeing your flustered expression. He booped your nose as you blinked in confusion.

"Dear don't think I forgot all the things you did and said when I was stuck as a deer. I promise to pay back every.last.bit."

You couldn't help but gulp in the way he said it. Plus the intensity of his stare just added to this making you feel like fainting for the second time now. Just what did you get yourself into?

"Yeah, smiles ya gotta back up a bit. If Vaggie was awake she'd chew your ass up."

"Don't worry, I won't bother her too much. Rest assured my friend."

Something clicked into you just then. Today's the day you've been waiting for a long time. Hazbin hotel season one has officially been released!

"Guys, wake Charlie and Vaggie up again! We have your future to watch!"

A.n: Sorry for the long wait. College has been straining all my energy and will to live (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ

This was one of the main scenarios that has been on my mind since the beginning of the fanfic. I had to start writing a whole ass story to make it understandable lol.

Also guys! GUYS!! I GOT FANARTS!!! LOOK AT THIS!!

These two were the first ones that got sent. It's Vox as the blue butterfly. Man I love his suit 🫠🫠

The second was this, our two girls!! Charlie and Vaggie both in their animal and human forms!! Also there's our first ever transformation moment~

Y'all remember the iconic moment of Husk putting on our shirt? 🥹🥹 They drew this!!! And there's our cutiepie Niffty and Mr. Precious!!

Man I can't believe my silly little fanfic inspired someone to draw fanarts!!! God I was so thrilled!! All of these wonderful fanrts are drawn by @/ Little_Wonders7 (twitter) @littlewonders7 (Tumblr) thank you again!!!

As for who the butterfly actually is....I think this will disappoint a lot of you..

Yes, tis I, your own author. Or the Hazbinfication animal of your author. I couldn't think of any way to bring reader back to the forest where the transformation was supposed to take place. So I forced a reason by placing myself there.(⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

This conversation is a thought I had while putting myself there so I decided to draw it.

A clue about this was on my twitter account where there's a blue butterfly on my pinned plus my profile. Shout-out to "sdsblogmainblog" to be the only one to get it!! I feel sorry to everyone who came up with cool theories on who the butterfly could be (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）

Also no, the pair of eyes watching Alastor and reader was not the butterfly and DW I won't interfere in the story much.

And the winner of the voting issss

🎊VOX🎊

Vox had 27 votes on wattpad

0 votes on Tumblr

11 votes on ao3

Total - 38

Velvette had 12 votes on wattpad

3 votes on Tumblr

16 votes on ao3

Total - 31

I wrote "Your vote has been counted" on the votes I collected. So if you guys want, you can recheck. And I'll explain the requirements of a new character arriving in our world in the next chapter since this is already getting long (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

Also towards people who are sad velvette lost. I only asked who'll be in the harem, not who'll come into this world. And this goes for every single character. Take this how you will.

Stay tuned folks~

Tag list: @legostars @glowinthedarkbones1150 @darifes @aria-tempest @rainbowcake1212 @luxylucylou

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chantiying · 7 months ago

Text

You have a new message, would you accept it?

How to choose? Take a deep breath, close your eyes, think about that/those person/people you have something inconclusive with (if you can't think about anyone it's ok, dw) then choose the image that calls to you better

1 2 3

Before to start, sorry for any mistakes or grammar error. English is not my first language

Remember tarot is not set on stone and you can change your path whenever you want. This is for entertainment purposes

This reading is general so if it doesn't resonate with you just let it go

Option 1

I know you're still upset about the way all of this happened. I know you don't understand why I had to go away. You think I let you alone and I didn't really care about it. I know you think I was selfish all I did was look out for my own good. I know you keep blaming me for the things I did to our family. I know that, even if I say to you my reasons they are still just excuses to your ears. I needed to walk away, I was tired. It was the best, it was fair. I had to understand who am I, I had to mature but it doesn't matter anymore, does it?

I'll be back, any moment. I know that hearing that scars you a lot, I know it bothers you "go back?" "For what?" "To destroy all the the life I built in your absence?" Yeah, I break your heart, I was the person you trusted the most , I broke our little world, I broke us, and you are still afraid of trusting in me again, but could you give me another chance? Take your time to respond my petition. I promise I'll understand if you don't want to see me again, but I'm serious about that I want to make things work for us this time.

For some of you, this could be a male figure in your family.

Two more messages for you.

Take a rest, honey. You don't have to be the one who is always fixing everything. The solution for the pain you're feeling right now is not overexerting yourself. Don't worry, things gonna be ok.

This could be from someone who passed away.

The last message could be an ex lover

Something that ended because of people talking in your back, hidden secrets that came to light. Tbh, I feel that this person don't have any interest in fix anything. Maybe they are happy that all of that happened and the way it all ended.

Additional information.

I feel like in this pile there's a lot of young energy. Maybe that person was too young or the separation occurred when both of you where young or you were young when all of this happened.

I feel that for some of you the root of all your failed relationships is because of the message of the first person

Maybe you've been suffering from sore throat or neck pain and I feel that it could be because you don't know have to express your emotions. It's ok to cry and scream, if you feel like crying, just do it, everything will be alright, ok?

Option 2

I feel like this person is upset or mad. Probably the relationship ended because of an argument. One of you was not in their best moment (maybe one of you passed or is passing through depression or anxiety)

I had to go, it was for the better. This, the thing we had it had neither head nor foot. I do accept we had a lot of good memories, you were my sun, but it doesn't mean we were meant to be. Do you know what? Sometimes, when I think about us, the first memories that came to my mind are those where I felt tied to you. We were going to nowhere. We had different paths, different dreams, different goals. I actually think we share the blame in this one, and, I still blame you for the kind of love you gave to me. It was too suffocating. It was like when you water a flower, you know what I mean? You were drowning me. I needed to make a decision, the better for me, and I don't regret doing it

This could be a past friendship

This is another message it could be from a female figure.

Don't be silly. You need to be less immature and spoiled. Will you realize at some point that you are being your own worst enemy? I know you're thinking about me like a killjoy or like i'm bitter, but my only wish is for you to open your eyes and put your feet on the ground. Do you remember when you were happy only with what you had? Do you remember when you played with all your friends and relatives? Do you remember all the scenarios you imagined and all of those were easy to resolve just with laughs and superpowers? I want you to be that little kid again. I want to hear your laugh until your belly hurts. I want you to be more kind with yourself and with the others. I want you to let go whatever its making you feel bad. I want you to start dancing by your own, my love.

Some of you have a nickname inspired on nature "sun" "bunny" "peach" "twinkle" or you have a name related to flowers or stars.

I feel like some of you either are emotionally unstable or feel a little too much.

Maybe you are fan of Taylor Swift and like the rain

Option 3

I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for being the villain of your story. I feel so sorry for stealing your confidence. I'm so sorry because I know I'm the reason of your nightmares/insomnia. I'm sorry you don't feel good enough and all of that is my fault. It's horrible to be the person who hurt the one who most loved me. You were my wish came true. You were the madness I needed to keep me sane, it doesn't make sense, does it? I could have done better, I know. I'd have done better to give you all the things you deserve. I guess it's too late to own up to my mistakes. Now I've lost you

I don't want you to forgive me (maybe I do want to) I want to tell you that I love the person you are now. All of that is because of YOU. I just destroyed you. You had to pass through a lot. Sometimes I wish I could talk to you. Would you give me an opportunity? All the fights, all the arguments, all the screaming and crying. I'm so sorry, I'm really really sorry. I know I took you away from me. If it's worth it, I also wake up at night thinking I could have done better

I love you, I always have

I don't want to wreck your plans. I don't want to turn your world upside down. Am I being greedy for saying that I miss you? I know I'm the king of victimized myself, I'm aware of that. I'll try to change for better, even if it doesn't matter anymore. I have what I deserve and I hope you get what you deserve for loving someone who didn't know how to love you in return

This could be an ex lover but it could be a person who took "care" of you when you were a child too

Let your inner child to heal. Play with them, enjoy and do the things you want to do but you don't do for fear of being judged

I have a plan for you! What if you choose some animated movies, cartoons you liked when you were a child and enjoy your evening watching them?

You're so brave and strong, I admire you, keep going

I feel like you have a good taste on music

This is my first reading, hope you all like it

Alic (Chanty) 🪽

#tarot #tarot reading #tarot tumblr #tarotblr #tarot cards #tarotcommunity #pick a card #tarot asks #tarot advice

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johnslittlespoon · 9 months ago

Note

hi!!! thoughts on the other boys treating bucky like a dog too—ruffling his hair, calling him good boy jokingly, making comparisons to meatball, patting his stomach/neck/etc, scrubbing his cheeks, being generally touchy feely and fond—and then theres buck to the side being ragingly possessive?

a genuine joy going through your bucksquared brainrot ilu pls get some sleep thank u <3

also!! gsd bucky x black cat buck is GOLDEN but!! consider this: gsd bucky x doberman buck hmmm

ARE YOU INSIDE MY HEAD. this is SOOOO

john would adore the attention, he thrives off of physical affection, we always see how touchy he is with the others. to know he can walk up to any of the boys and nudge his forehead against their shoulder and get his hair pet in return, or even just get a fond shove and an "oh, you dog"– he'd love it.

but a rare jealous/possessive gale? insane. it makes his heart warm, watching john interact with the boys, knowing that other people see how golden he is too. but there's also this feeling in the pit of his stomach that sneaks up on him, and he doesn't know what it is, adamant on ignoring the tiny voice in his head that whispers mine.

because that's silly, john's his best friend, he doesn't belong to him. why would he want him to? and yet he does want; he wants when he hears 'buck and bucky', always spoken one after the other; he wants when him and john are sitting in a corner of the pub, watching the others court pretty girls, pretending their thighs aren't pressed a little too close; he wants when they're crammed into the cockpit of a plane in the evening, watching the sun go down, sharing a flask.

it eats him up inside from the moment it hits him, like he's seeing john in a whole new light. he doesn't say anything, too afraid to ruin what they have, but he lets himself lean into john's affectionate tendencies more than he usually does. and he's thrilled when john keeps coming back to him, suddenly seeking him out over anyone else as soon as gale's given him this sorta green light, always glued to gale, and he wonders if maybe john's felt the same and they're both too scared to cross that line.

and so they both toe it, pushing and pulling, and one day one of them will step over it and it'll be like breathing for the first time, but until then they're just happy to hang all over each other. buck and bucky.

[a genuine joy writing these, i'm so glad you like them, lots of love!! i am sleeping (sorta) i promise jSDJKG. also i adore gsd bucky x doberman buck, that works so well! black cat buck is great personality–wise but i feel like it's missing a little something when it comes to how he cares for his friends, doberman fills that gap. all the dog coded boys. <3]

#john egan is dog coded #buckbucky #buck x bucky #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon asks

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catiuskaa · 1 year ago

Text

Floral Troubles: Tales of love.

It’s been hard dealing with your recent love life with how busy the flower shop has been since the wedding season started, over two weeks ago. It was just you, the ribbons and greenery, until he hugged you from behind, left 20 bucks on the table and in an affectionate tone, asked: “How do I say I love you in flower?”

and because of all the support you showed, yes, my loves, flower Binnie is back for more >:)

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reblogs and the votes! I never expected 'Yeah, flowers follow' to blow up like it did, and I'm really happy that you guys read it and enjoyed it as much as I did when writing it!

This can be read as a stand-alone, although I hope you guy's like this one as much as its 'first part', which I'll link here.

basically bc I mentioned to @tangerminie that there was a possibility that I'd do a part two (just bc she reblogged and said "Changbin, you can just go fetch more flowers", and she was right, Changbin's not the idiot, I am, LOL) and well, I committed 💪

word count: 4k. [☆☆❁☆☆]

It was after lunchtime when the bell rang inside the shop again, making you groan slightly towards yourself. Your feet hurt from standing up, knowing that your mother needed the only stool available —because God forbid she lets you take a chair from your apartment, which was just upstairs—.

You wished for hours to pass faster or for better shoes.

"One second, please!" You let out, quickly wiping your mouth with your sleeve just in case, wrapping up the white roses you needed for a booking made two weeks ago. Busy designing and planning the different flower arrangements with a soon-to-be bride, you had little to no free time, days passing by inside the little flower workshop behind the beaded curtains. And, sadly for your poor heart, that also had meant less time for a special someone, who was also busy composing, rapping, and most importantly, looking handsome for his fans.

Rushing to the counter, you bowed and smiled, eyes closing and dimples showing, hoping your encounter didn't involve one of those mean customers that think the Sun spins around them.

"Sorry, what can I-?"

"Hey, pretty."

You opened your eyes at max speed, seeing him giggle, his captivating almond-shaped eyes welcoming you with energy and enthusiasm. His hand travelled closer to your face, tucking some rebel hairs that had gotten out of the messy bun you had.

Looking around, you smiled widely at the empty sight, the different flowers and plants being the only witness of how you skipped on top of the counter, pulling the so-called "dark idol" into your embrace.

"Binnie," you mentioned, barely in a whisper, your tensed body quickly sinking on him, the light scent of cologne surrounding you feeling like a breath of fresh air.

You cupped his face between your hands, thumbs stroking the rapper's cheeks.

"You saw my text, right? I'm sorry... I know you only get this week off before not having much free time. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to our date, and I know being sorry doesn't really make up for it, but-"

He gave you a small peck, interrupting you.

"It does, silly. I know you have stuff to do, don't sweat," he smiled, and you snuggled closer to him. "You know I love this, but if your mom sees you on top of the counter, she'll kill me."

"I'll be your knight in shining armour, my prince. Thou shan't be afraid no more," you mentioned in a solemn yet somewhat mocking tone. Changbin chuckled loudly.

"I missed you, flower girl."

You got down from the counter, blushing.

"I missed you too, world star." You blew a kiss at him. "Stay with me?"

He nodded, staring intensely into your eyes, which made you smile. "So? You stormed in here just to flirt with the store's employees?" You covered your mouth with one hand, acting deeply offended. "You know, my manager will hear about this."

He played your game, turning upset in the blink of an eye. "How dare you? I just came here looking for yellow pansies."

You tried keeping up the act but couldn't hold back a smile, the idea that he had memorized parts of the book you gave him being funny in your head, blush still on your face. You took only one flower from its place and handed it to him in a huff.

"It means 'thinking of you.'" he nodded, proudly remembering the flower's meaning.

"Oh. Who's that for?" You asked, giving him a playful side-eye.

His smile lightened the colourful space. "You, of course."

"Ugh, I'm going to get diabetes. Hi, sweetie." Your mom entered with a cheeky smile, greeting the buff man only, making Changbin and you snort, still giving each other puckish looks.

"Hello, ma'am."

"Ah, you make me feel old! Just call me Deiji."

You quickly put the flower back in place and opened the small door to let Changbin access behind the counter.

"You can give the boy the stool I was using. I'll go upstairs and rest for a bit. It's time for my TV drama," your mom explained, ignoring how your eyebrows shot up, leaving the room with a big smile.

You waited until you heard steps above your heads, Seo looking at you with an amused expression. "She's been saying all day that the stool was hers until the day that she'd die. Unbelievable!"

"She loves me more," he teased, spinning side to side on the seat like a small child.

You laughed. "That's because you're adopted. She stole you from Chan Hyung."

The jokes continued, a funny atmosphere settling in the flower-crowded building, mixing with the low-toned music you played in the background.

"Hey, sweetie, come in here," your mom told Changbin, appearing through the curtains from the workshop. "We don't want people coming in here for the visuals rather than for the flowers," she joked half-heartedly, with the only intention of taking care of the idol, allowing him to rest without worrying about any gossip that could be spread.

He cackled, thanking the woman, quickly taking the stool and stepping inside the workshop. As he entered, he was immediately greeted by an atmosphere of creative energy and controlled chaos. Unlike the pristine and organized front area, the workshop was a less spacious room filled with several metal tables, each displaying an array of tools, materials, and unfinished floral designs. Vases, containers, and plastic baskets were scattered across the surfaces, some filled with water, others holding half-arranged bouquets.

The floor surrounding the workbench, situated in the centre of the room, was covered with scraps of greenery, petals, and snippets of ribbon, evidence of the ongoing creative process. The surface above was also cluttered with tools of the trade. Pairs of floral shears, wire cutters, and various types of scissors Changbin wouldn't know how to differentiate, each worn and marked from countless uses.

He took a deep breath, the air perfumed with a fragrant scent of blooms, mingling with the earthy aroma of greenery and the faint hint of floral foam that, funnily enough, resembled yours perfectly.

It was just like you, he thought, the workshop possessing a vibrant energy and a sense of untamed, natural beauty, both characterized by their creative essence and a certain level of organized mess.

He loved it.

The bell above the main door rang again, and he couldn't help to stare back at you through the beaded curtains.

Maybe it was only to him, but your presence exuded an aura of sincerity and radiance that was impossible to ignore. He had only seen that kind of beauty in movies, the ones he saw to get inspiration for his lyrics. With an ethereal glow surrounding you, to Changbin, you were like a magnetic charm that drew people in —the people being him—.

He had never been so into someone before. There had been flings here and there, but none of those had reached this level of intensity. His eyes didn't leave your figure, his heartbeat echoing in his ears as he saw you greet some clients.

Your lips, delicately curved and inviting, held a gentle smile to the people you were paying attention to. They were adorned with a subtle touch of colour. The sudden need to peck them, imagining the cute face you'd make afterwards, became more intense.

He admired your confident yet effortless stance as you moved through the store, looking for the bouquet the client had asked for.

"Oh!"

Changbin snapped out of his daydreaming, facing Deiji.

"So you're serious about her," she concluded with a sly smile.

Seo found himself unable to hold back a goofy smile as he scratched the back of his neck. She giggled, the smile on her features making her look younger.

"Come, sweetie." She invited Changbin upstairs, grinning happily. "I can't let my future son-in-law get cold in the workshop!"

As he ascended a small flight of stairs, he was greeted by a quaint entryway leading to the apartment's main living area. The open floor plan created a sense of spaciousness, allowing the living room, dining area, and kitchen to seamlessly blend together.

Above the bustling flower shop, the small apartment had a cosy and charming ambience that invited anyone to sit and relax. Despite its modest size, it was easy to see your touch in the small decorations that crowded the building.

"It's quite messy, but let's pretend otherwise," your mother said, dismissing it with a flick of the wrist. Changbin laughed, feeling at home.

His eyes locked with another staircase, even smaller, that had books and pots on the side that wasn't facing the wall.

"Her room is in the attic, if you want to wait there," Deiji mentioned slyly.

He had to hold back his curiosity, fidgeting with his rings.

"Can I?" Seo questioned sheepishly.

"Of course! I'll get her there soon, don't you worry!"

She softly rushed the buff man upstairs. Changbin couldn’t help but smile, seeing a wooden sign with several flowers painted. It was so obvious it was your room, you could feel it, and the sentiment intensified once he entered.

With its sloping ceilings and exposed wooden beams, it had a rustic charm that added character and warmth. Soft, natural light came through a dormer window, casting a gentle glow upon the space, which made the furniture inside seem magical.

Against one wall, a somewhat messy, wooden, old-looking piano took centre stage, its unpolished surface and stickers adding to the atmosphere the soft glow of fairy lights delicately draped around it created. The instrument served as a focal point of the room, where it was noticeable you spent hours, judging by how used it looked and how several music sheets filled with compositions adorned a nearby music stand and walls.

The attic's nooks and crannies were transformed into storage areas for various instruments and books. A violin rested upon a stand, ready to be played. An acoustic guitar leaned against a wall, waiting for the touch of skilled fingers. A collection of books, whether flower-related or not, were carefully arranged on a vintage bookshelf, adding a touch of your own personality to it. Close to it, there was a small desk that stood by the window, offering a dedicated space for writing and composing music, in between the range of options. It was adorned with notebooks filled with scribbled lyrics, a laptop for digital composition, and a collection of pens and pencils.

Changbin couldn’t help but lie on the bed as soon as he saw it, looking at the walls of the attic, which were adorned with posters of iconic musicians and whatnot, reflecting your appreciation for the art form. He was excited to see known artists on the walls, happy that you two had common interests. Strings of fairy lights were delicately strung across the ceiling, casting a warm and magical ambience, reminiscent of an intimate concert venue. He hoped one day you’d play something for him, or that you two could play together.

With your flowery scent surrounding him, feeling like he had reached a feeling beyond contentment, Changbin realised how tired he felt all of a sudden, and slowly drifted to sleep.

[☆☆❁☆☆]

You hummed along with the music that kept playing, sketching possible designs for the wedding centrepieces the bride had asked for. Your mother came from upstairs and tsked when she noticed you yawning, quickly turning off the CD player.

"You young people need to sleep more. Go up to your room, I can finish these myself."

"But Mom, it's barely 8 pm, I can just-"

"Fiddlesticks. You'll fall asleep as soon as you touch your bed. Unnegotiable."

You groaned as you stood up, leaving the metal stool for Deiji. You stretched your back, your muscles sore.

"Hey, did you see Changbin leave?" you mentioned, trying to hide a childish sadness in your tone.

You didn't see your mother grin for a second, then quickly put on her round glasses, continuing your design.

"No, I didn't."

You pouted. You knew it was a bit selfish from your side. You understood that he wasn’t going to waste his free week wandering in a flower shop, but there was a small part of your mind that secretly hoped that he'd stay with you until you finished. Your mom cooed, looking at you from above her glasses.

"Moooommm," you whined teasingly. "Gimme a break."

"Whatever. You teenagers live in your own dreams." She mocked, and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"You sound much older when you talk like that."

She laughed. "Just remember, I'll leave in a few hours for the flower convention with Yeongsuk. I'll come back in two days."

"Is she coming to pick you up or do you need me awake?" You inquired, taking your brown apron and hanging it on the wall closest to the stairs.

"Good night, kid."

You snickered, going upstairs slowly. You quickly took your phone and went into your messages. You pouted again, seeing that he hadn't even left a text. Tapping into his contact, you started writing an apology.

'world star ✿ฺ' hey, 'm sorry about today. I'll make it up to you.

But just when you pressed send, you were surprised to hear a notification sound coming from behind your room, the door left ajar.

You stepped in cautiously, your heart skipping a beat when you saw him snoring lowly on your bed. Your insides churned, smiling cutely. You tsked to yourself, knowing that your mom was the one behind this.

You changed into your pyjamas in the bathroom, laughing silently at the sight of the tough-looking man still sleeping cutely when you came back. You took an oversized T-shirt and some sweatpants that were too big for you, but you hadn't had the opportunity to return them yet. You approached him carefully.

"Binne?" You shook him softly.

He slowly opened his eyes.

"Wh-what?"

"You fell asleep, silly. Here, take this. You can get changed in the bathroom downstairs. It's the first door closest to the stairs."

You giggled at the marks that he had gotten from the blankets.

He came back, and you laughed at the sight of him with your clothes on. How could someone look so cute?

"Shouldn't we tell Deiji I'm staying the night?" he asked softly, getting back inside the bed, under the covers.

You snuggled closer to him, taking his arm and settling it on your waist.

"Nah. She'll leave in like two hours, anyway."

You both got lost in each other's eyes.

"You smell nice," you said, fighting to stay awake.

He couldn't help but move his hand towards the blanket, covering you a bit more.

"And you are really pretty when you're half asleep."

"Hey, you're also half asleep." You blabbered, almost unintelligible. You poked the tip of his nose. "Cute," you laughed before falling asleep. He nuzzled in your neck, hearing your calm breathing as a lullaby.

[☆☆❁☆☆]

Changbin woke up, his legs tangled with yours, still close to him, between his arms. Your breathing, calm and rhythmic, also made him relax, enjoying the sight of your body surrendering to the embrace of slumber. Soft moonlight still filtered on the room, casting a gentle glow through the windows, fighting against the Sun, which was starting to wake up too.

He smiled when he notices you do the same, a faint smile lingering at the corner of your lips.

Your room, illuminated by the soft moonbeams, looked different to him. The posters of musicians on the walls seemed to come alive in the pale light, as if whispering melodies that guided your dreams. He wondered what you were dreaming when your embrace around him tightened. He kissed your forehead, brushing stray hairs from your face, which slowly woke you up.

"Hey, pretty."

Instead of answering, you giggled, quickly getting on top of him, your legs resting on his sides, your nose brushing against his.

"Hi there, world star." You lie down, getting comfortable still on top of him. His hands travelled to your hips, caressing them, trailing shapes with the tip of his fingers.

"What time is it?" you whispered, your breath tickling his neck.

He took the first phone he could from the nightstand, trying with only one hand, refusing to let you move from on top of him.

"It's too early."

You giggled. "But what time?"

"Me time."

"Wha-? AH-"

His grip on you tightened, and he pinned you down this time, planting soft kisses all over your face. You laughed uncontrollably, one, because he's a loveable dork, and two, because it tickled, but you weren't going to say in case he'd use it against you.

"You're built like a brick!" You cackled, unable to push him off you.

"You love my strong arms, don't lie." He joked, flexing. Seo relaxed, trying not to crush you with his weight.

"I'm hungry, lung crusher."

"That's my line, you savage stealer."

"Get off and I'll make you coffee."

You both went downstairs, filling the place with giggles and light jokes.

"Hey, I'm actually sorry for yesterday. We only slept, and you could've done something better with the boys after getting the week off."

His voice was soft, words rolling off his tongue. “I prefer to be with you, the others can wait,” he said, eyes locked on yours. He wasn't going to say that he didn't care about sleeping with you —and by that he meant actual sleeping— because he loved waking up by your side, hiding his reason behind a lovestruck smile.

Suddenly, your head was spinning, at a loss for words. You couldn't quite place what was happening to you, why you were suddenly so reactive to every detail. It was a weird feeling that tickled in your chest, but you let yourself fall into it, the feeling of being loved and loving so new and daring that you couldn't get enough of it.

He sat on the stools as you took a mug for him, pouring 99% milk before microwaving it, then adding 1% coffee.

"As dark as your soul, mister."

"Very funny," he didn't laugh, not until he dunked the tip of his fingers into his drink, noticing that it was only lukewarm before splashing it on you with a flick.

He just stared at you with the same goofy smile that was on your face, while you cut some strawberries into smaller pieces, putting them into a yoghurt. He swallowed dry when he noticed you biting your lip in a sign of concentration.

"Whaddya looking at?" You said, in a somewhat sing-song voice. He just smiled, and you snickered, seeing him poking his cheek with his tongue. "Cat got your tongue?"

He laughed. "Just looking at you, hot stuff."

Your eyes opened wide, failing to hide a blush on your features that made Changbin cackle.

"Shut up, meanie," you snorted, watching him stand up, moving until he was behind you, pulling you into a back hug.

"I mean it."

You stared at him from above your shoulder, looking up and down.

"You're not too bad yourself."

[☆☆❁☆☆]

It was practically 6am after you both finished the impromptu make-out session. He stared at your lips, red and swollen.

"Don't smile like that, you cheeky bitch. Yours look exactly the same." You hit him softly on his chest, snorting, tenderly pecking him. “I need to do some arrangements, come with me? I’ll take you somewhere nice when the rest of the world is awake.”

He chuckled, letting you guide him, loving how your small hand fitted in his, fingers linking almost automatically. He took the stool as you combined the different types of greenery, playing some music on your phone.

He was going through his after noticing he had several texts from Chan, wondering if he should reply now, knowing how damn early it could be for someone who slept so little but decided to text anyways.

'red angry bird' not kidnapped yet, dw

Your heart did fuzzy things inside you, looking above your shoulder to the man behind you, spinning on the stool with his tiptoes, his messy bed hair and how your clothes looked on him making you soft.

You looked at your phone, noticing the next song on the queue and you smiled, turning around to approach him. He’s still on his phone.

“Hey, world star.” You kissed his forehead to get his attention. He freezes, his heart fluttering. “I think you know this one.”

He looked at you, losing himself in your features until he heard you singing. It was 'because', the song he sang with Felix, and you were just singing his part cause Lix’s voice was too deep for you to reach. He slowly joined your singing. Your voice, like a delicate yet powerful instrument, effortlessly blended with his, intertwining together in a melody that reverberated through the walls of the colourful flower shop. With each lyric, your voice carried the story he wrote, and he couldn't describe the feeling of happiness he achieved, knowing that you liked it too.

You kept working and singing, not noticing how he left the room. he came back with his black leather jacket in his hand, tenderly putting it on your shoulders. He took his wallet from the jacket's pocket, grabbing 20 bucks from the inside.

"Binnie, what-?"

He settled it on the table in front of you, and also carefully settled the book you gave him.

You stared at the title, "the language of flowers", curious.

His hand hugged you from behind, leaning down right next to your ear, and in an affectionate tone, he asked.

"How can I say I love you in flower?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You turned around to face him, seeing that he was hiding his other hand.

He showed you a small red chrysanthemum.

Due to the lack of an answer, his face turned worried.

"Please tell me I got it right."

You kissed him, giggling.

"I love you too, world star."

[☆☆❁☆☆]

~Kats, who now has high levels of sugar in her blood because of how fluff this was and has also lost her Duolingo strike bc she got distracted writing lol

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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 6 months ago

Text

Unforgiving: Choso Kamo x y/n

Requested: No

TW: None

Word count: 795

Part 3 | Part 5 TBD

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

Another cold afternoon. The leaves continue their trajectory from tree to the floor. The ebb and flow of nature is evident in the harsh breeze of the day. The sun did little to warm you.

You breathed into your hands to warm them. Even your weapon was cold. You stood waiting for Choso. You felt so silly waiting for an enemy to come and teach you how to fight. If you were honest, you'd admit that you were there for his touch. His attention. You felt guilty yet giddy.

You hear the rustling of leaves. You turn excited to see him. He wears a soft smile on his face as he registers the fact that you waited for him again. You hold the urge to run into his arms. You walk up to him, slowly, deliberately.

"You're late." You say.

"I wasn’t aware that there was a time limit." He tilts his head to the side, a wide smile playing across his face.

You huff and look away. How can he have such power over you? And why are you letting him have this power?

"What am I learning today?" You mumble.

He stood there, pensive. He notices you trembling because of the cold. He feels guilty making you wait for him in such weather. He grabs your hand and guides you to a nearby stump. He sits down and pats his lap as a gesture for you to sit.

You withhold a gasp. Sitting on his lap? That felt too intimate. Too welcoming. You debate on whether to cave into his invitation or not. You remembered him being warm and comforting. You craved his touch.

As if your body had a mind of its own you mindlessly walked to him. You stood between his legs and sat on his lap. Instantly Choso wraps his arms around you. You feel his warmth, his body, his heartbeat.

Your back is to his chest. His hands are wrapped around your mid-section. You felt captive but not trapped. You reminded yourself to breathe.

"Let's not train today." He whispered against your ear. "Let me hold you, just like this."

You take a deep breath, the deepest you've taken all day. You could feel his breath, the movement of his lips against the shell of your ear. Your brain short circuited. You wanted to hear his voice again.

"Why?" You ask.

"I can't explain it, but holding you makes me feel whole."

You blush. "How so?"

"I live for my brothers, I love them. This feels different. As if…" he hesitates, "we live for each other."

You close your eyes at his words. Was he right about that? Were you caught in him? Were you wanting to live for him?

You jolt out of his grasp, scared and anxious. You just met him. You've only spent time 2 other times. This was too much for you. You needed an out.

"I can't do this. You're the enemy." You say as a matter of fact.

"I am no longer involved with Kenjaku. I am here for Yuji. I wish to make things right." He stood up, embarrassed that he shared so much.

"You keep saying that and yet you haven't gone to see Yuji."

"You were my priority."

There he went again, making your knees weak. "Why?" You say looking for an out.

"When I’m around you, I feel different." He steps closer to you. "I want you. And I've never wanted anything in my life."

You hold the urge to jump on him and kiss him. You weren't completely clear what was happening but you did know that you were connected to this man in some way.

"What now?" You asked.

Choso shakes his head. "Say it. I want to hear you."

You act confused. You're afraid of repeating back his words. No matter how true they are, you couldn’t say it.

Choso is patient with you. He trails his hand down your face. Softly. As if committing to memory the feel of your skin. You look intently into his eyes, defiant hoping he would waver. His eyes soften.

"I can't say it. I don't know how I’m feeling. This is too much." You concede.

"I understand. Take your time. I'll be around."

He takes your small figure into an embrace. You let him hold you. It feels like home. Eventually you separate. He holds the urge, once again, to kiss you senseless. He trails his hand down your face and into your collarbone before turning around and walking into the woods. No final words. No goodbye.

You stand there heartbroken and lonely. What have you done? Will you see him again. The cold fall air is unforgiving. Even the leaves shake in the cold as the sun sets.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x you #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #kamo choso #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n

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itty-bitty-sunshine · 1 year ago

Text

Immortal au drabble 2, domestic arc — about 730 words, no warnings

It was a cold day. Not snowing, not yet, but the temperature sure felt like freezing. The cold wind burned against your face, you could see your breath as you sighed.

You were sitting outside despite the weather, nearing the empty road near the forest ground. You didn't know why on earth there was a bench there, but you didn't mind as you sat on it and just watched the minutes go by.

You didn't notice how long you were out for or how cold you had gotten until you felt a warmer, metallic hand touch your shoulder from behind.

You look up, and Sun smiles down at you. He's wearing a sweater, and a very thick jacket on top of it. Certainly is more than you have on yourself now.

"Sunny", you smile back at your friend, and pat to your side on the bench for him to sit down. He does without missing a single bit. You hum as you look back at the horizon. As much as it had changed over the years, you still think that's a pretty sight to have.

Sun also hums, and you can feel his stare on you for a moment. Eventually, he takes your hand on his own. His are much larger than yours, but you always thought it was quite a nice difference.

"Your hands are colder than when I lost a bet and had to stick my hand into the snow for five minutes." He chastises you, but you can hear the smile on his voice as he engulfes your hand on both his own and hold close to him, making exaggerated sigh sounds as if he even had a lung on the first place, to try to warm your hand up with hot air.

You can guess who made that bet in the first place. You can't help but laugh at the silliness of it all. They are not affected by the cold the same way you are, after all. Though they still can feel it.

"What was the point of sticking your hand into snow anyway?", you laugh, turning to face your friend. His rays spin once.

"I'm afraid you'd have to ask Moon that", he bops your nose, "you know his mind works in... mysterious ways." He takes your other hand into his own. He's warm, it almost makes you want to lean into him. "I suppose yours do, too."

He chuckles, and you gasp in mock offense.

"Now, what was that supposed to mean, Mr. Sun Drop?"

"Oh why, I am simply astounded by our little Star's exquisite taste," one of his hands touch your cheek, a thin smile spread across his face. "You always like staying outside so much, specially in such weather and such light clothes! It marvels me— I wonder what is it this beauty you see in freezing?"

You hate you can't argue with him. Still, the audacity of this oversized roomba. The cold is great, alright. You're barely feeling it anymore anyway.

"Very funny", you roll your eyes at his sarcasm, but smile fondly still.

"It is my job to be silly," Sun's rays spin as he beams, "and your job to not freeze to death. C'mon."

And just like that, he picks you up. You saw it coming, really — he always does this. At least he's nicer about it than Moon.

You lean against him, not even bothering to protest. His jacket is soft to the touch, and his body is warm — a lot warmer than yours, at least. You really need to stop spacing out outside during winter.

He opens the door without issue, and promptly wraps you into a blanket burrito with a light blue colored, cloud themed blanket he probably had picked out before going to grab you outside.

He sits you on the couch, and sits by your side, cuddling your smaller and stuck frame. He doesn't even nag you anymore about how irresponsible that is, and instead just sighs and pat your head as he makes sure you're warm.

"You need to stop doing this", he says.

"My bad", you reply with little apologetics, knowing very well that will happen again soon. It's not like the cold can kill you, so might as well enjoy the peace it gives you.

Despite all their nagging, they always go to pick you up.

#you take care of them #and they take care of you #sun wont tell you this but the point of the bet was Moon making him eat snow after that #he swears sun looked hilarious with snow on his rays #this one for you babs 🫶#immortal au #silly drabble #dca au #immortal au writing

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roughentumble · 1 month ago

Text

oh, i forgot! i worked on this and finished it forever ago, in my notes app. i'd already uploaded a partially finished version, but i filled in the missing pieces, added some yennefer, and gave it an ending. @fangirleaconmigo had liked it the previous time around, so hopefully she likes this finished version! link here to the old version, in case you're curious what got added.

fic summary: geralt gets sent back in time to the dragon hunt, and makes changes at key points in the timeline to lead to a better future. he can't remember that he went back, or what choices he's supposed to make, he just gets vague feelings.

======

geralt wakes up in a daze.

there's something on the tip of his tongue-- like when you don't remember a dream, but you remember the shape of it. he fights to recall it, because it seems so big, so important, as the last strands slip through his fingers. his body wills him to stand up, and so he does, as if he could chase the fragments that way, but moving only seems to dislodge them further. he doesnt even recall falling asleep. he sees-- jaskier, a few feet away with his back to him, far enough he'd have to call out to be heard, and everything is hazy as he stumbles over, some sort of need he cant name thrumming under his skin. he could get angry about it, or-- or...

he places a hand on jaskier's shoulder, and jaskier whips around in surprise, blinking owlishly at him. he starts to say something, brow furrowed with concern and sympathy, but geralt cuts him off with a squeeze of his shoulder. "i think you were right. we should go to the coast."

concern gives way to joy, like the sun breaking through the clouds, lighting up his entire face. "you-- really? actually, you'd want that? what caused the change of heart, did you whack your head or something?" he waves his hand in dismissal, keeps speaking before geralt can interject. "doesn't matter, really, what matters is that you did. i'll pack my things right away, and we can load up dear old roach, and i can compose a stunning ballad out of this whole mess because i am a miracle worker, and-- oh you'll just /love/ the coast i'm /certain/ of it! fine wine and pearls and the salty sea stretching out forever over the horizon, and the sunsets, oh! to die for, truly!"

perhaps he did hit his head. there's dirt in his hair, more than usual, and he doesnt think he woke up in a bedroll... but he can't find it in himself to care. it all came out so easy, and something about it had felt right. he reaches out to take jaskier's hand in his own, and jaskier only trips over his words for a moment, glancing down at them in confusion, then smiling even brighter, if that was even possible. that feels right, too. in the same way he cant put his finger on. he'll examine it later, when he's a little more awake. for now he just pulls jaskier gently by the hand towards camp, so he can do that packing he was talking about.

they leave the mountain, and the cursed dragon hunt, behind, without much fanfare or a word to the others.

===========

he doesnt like the coast much, as it turns out. sand isnt great for poor roach's hooves, salt sticks in his long hair making it unmanagable, and the large swath of ocean in front of him makes him edgy in a way he doesnt want to put a name to, because geralt of rivia does not /do/ being afraid. it's all logic, is what it is, giant sea monsters lurk in those depths, and surely no witcher is equipped to deal with their likes. a certain healthy cautiousness makes sense, he reasons.

he likes jaskier at the coast, though.

happy and free, laughing, backlit by the sun, sand on his cheek and pants rolled up to the knee. fancy shoes dangling from his fingers.

/foolish bard/, he thinks, stepping closer, brushing away the sand, /foolish, silly little bard, never brings the proper footwear anywhere we go./ out loud he says "i'm in love with you."

he watches closely the play of emotions across jaskier's face, the joy morphing into shock, disbelief, mouth gawping open like a fish. in the next moment he's dropped those fancy shoes to grab geralt's head, yanking him down into a kiss that's equal parts frenzy and passion and finally coming home. they kiss until the water laps up to their ankles, arms tangled around each other.

the incoming waves claim just one of jaskier's fancy, impractical shoes, and he curses the sea, running into the water as if he could fish the thing out, or else batter the sea into compliance. geralt laughs, and laughs, and pulls jaskier from the salty sea to kiss him again, and again, and again, even as he complains about his lost shoe. "you'll be compensating me for that, witcher." he warns, shaking his finger.

"wouldn't have it any other way," geralt responds, breathless with joy, and jaskier sinks into his grip.

========

"i want you to come with me. to kaer morhen."

jaskier stares at him with open-mouth. it isnt an offer given lightly. even in all their years of on-again off-again, geralt never extended this particular invitation to yennefer. maybe he was too scared of being known, or too scared of being trapped in one place-- if things went sour when they couldnt just leave, would it go away for ever? she's gone away forever anyway, for all his clinging and carefully calculated space. she said no, and he found-- he found--

years he's spent, dragging his feet. years, and with jaskier it's so old and yet so new, and he's decided that he is sick of the waiting, of the right pace. he wants jaskier with him, now and always. "this winter, the two of us. up in the blue mountains."

jaskier is nodding before geralt can finish speaking, tears welling in his eyes. "i want that too, love. gods, you know i'd follow you anywhere." and then he laughs, free and joyful and it's the best sound geralt's ever heard in his life. jaskier reaches out, touches his cheek, like he's confirming this is real, and geralt leans into his space to press their foreheads together. inhales the scent of his tears mingled with pure joy, and it smells like the ocean.

=================

they keep heading south, because it isnt time to head north yet, and because geralt's got a feeling he'd really like to disprove. can't explain where it comes from, exactly, just that he feels a tug, senses a rumbling in the earth, hears whispers on the streets. he climbs the rocky outcropping while jaskier waits by roach, idle and bored. he wants to be wrong. wants it so badly he hasnt even shared his theory with jaskier. he looks out over the path below.

he is not wrong.

a sea of black and gold. cintra is the gateway to the rest of the north, and it's about to fall.

============

he tells jaskier to wait in the cintran marketplace. if this works, geralt will be able to meet him there without injury, or at least be able to send someone to fetch him. if it doesnt, he'll need to resort to drastic measures, which should put him in jaskier's path too. he's grateful for this decision when he ends up surrounded on all sides by calanthe's men-- he has no doubt jaskier would be able to extract himself from the danger as he always does, but he still doesnt like seeing it. he holds a knife to the throat of an old friend, and wonders why it feels familiar. wishes that it didnt.

when they fall through the portal, dodging calanthe's trap, jaskier is far enough away from their stall that he doesn't hear the commotion-- presumably, anyway. geralt wishes he could see him, just to confirm he was safe, confirm he actually made it, but he's too preoccupied to linger on the thought.

he's led through bullshit and lies, attempts to buck fate, but he can feel the tightening noose of destiny and knows its all pointless. he'll walk away with his child surprise, it's just a matter of whether that leaves him with a target on his back.

calanthe orders him gone, and eist escorts him.

"i remember when you honored the Law of Surprise. what changed?" geralt asks, needs to provoke something real out of one of them, desperately hopes for a chink in someone's armor.

"i had a granddaughter." eist throws at him blithely.

"so protect her." geralt says through gritted teeth. the conversation feels like one he's had a million times. "what if calanthe's wrong? what if they come and ciri is trapped?" he presses.

"i fight side by side with my queen." eist replies, unmoved.

"you put too much faith in that woman."

"well, you weren't there. after pavetta died, calanthe would wake up howling in the night. The Lioness, nearly broken." eist shakes his head, looking off in the distance as he relives the memory. geralt's temples throb, lips ghosting over the words along with him, wondering why the hell it's so familiar. "someone who's able to pull themselves out of that, they'll have my confidence till my final day."

geralt wants to scream. its not enough. it isnt enough. why do their minds never change?

"i need your promise you won't come back." eist says, and geralt pauses in the entryway, weighs his options.

it's so godsdamned familiar. and yet, he cant say anything but the truth. "if i hear ciri's in danger, you know i can't do that."

"i know."

the bars fall.

jaskier was shopping nearby. he hears the clatter, and comes running. its so like them-- somehow they always find each other.

he calls for geralt, running up to place his palms on the bars, face screwed up in fear and outrage.

guards close in, shouting at jaskier to step away from the prisoner, and geralt whips around to face eist. "dont hurt him." geralt pleads.

"he's your companion. a weasly little thing, there when you claimed the law of surprise in the first place. how do i know he wont try to break you out? or take the child surprise for you?" eist asks, and geralt's stomach plummets.

"you're a reasonable man, eist. i understand your commitment to calanthe, but jaskier hasnt done anything. he isn't bound to ciri by destiny, he has no claim to her. nilfgaard is nearly at the border, don't doom him by locking him in the dungeons when he's harmless." he grips the bars tighter, knuckles turning white from the strength of his grip.

eist looks considering, so geralt presses on. "please. as one old friend to another, he's just a bard. don't punish him for my folly."

"we were never old friends." eist disputes. "...but i dont see the harm one bard could cause." relief hits geralt like a tidal wave, and he lets out his breath in one big exhale. "i dont think i've ever seen you scared before." eist cuts a look at him, and his eyes seem to pierce through geralt. he steps closer to speak in a low tone. "nearly at the border, you say?"

geralt nods, trying to project just how seriously he means it. "i wouldnt lie about this."

eist thinks for another moment, then says "i'll get him a guest room in the castle."

geralt's knees nearly buckle with relief. a guest room he can move freely in, and the castle will be the most well-fortified place during the inevitable seige. jaskier has a chance of survival. "no!" he hears for behind him, and he whips around to stare at jaskier.

"no, geralt, i wont leave you! they cant imprison you, you havent done anything!" he presses, tears welling in his eyes. he knows what's coming as well as geralt does, and he stinks of fear. geralt walks to the other side of the small cell to grasp jaskier's hands through the bars.

"jaskier, it's alright. i'll be right where i need to be. it's destiny, remember? i just need to know you'll be safe while i do it." jaskier looks unconviced, but geralt squeezes his hands tighter. "promise me you'll stay in your room. promise you'll wait for me. /promise/."

jaskier blinks back tears. "i promise." he says, and geralt lets out another sigh of relief. he leans forward as jaskier does, foreheads as close to touching as the bars will let them.

"alright. let's go." eist says, and a guard finally steps forward to place a hand on jaskier's elbow. he looks geralt in the eye, shoulders squared, a silent promise that they'll see each other again.

geralt meets his gaze. and then he's taken away.

============

++++++++++++

"this is cirilla. ciri, this is--"

"ah-ah, let me do my own introductions, i get to say it so rarely, after all." he says, cutting geralt off and turning to ciri. his shoulders roll back, posture straightening, carrying himself with a sudden air of gravitas. "my name is julian alfred pancratz, viscount de lettenhove. graduate of oxenfurt, master of the seven liberal arts, and esteemed poet and minstrel, better known throughout the kingdoms as the famed bard jaskier. at your service." he bows deeply, a fluid, graceful movement, and when he comes back up he looks rather pleased with himself.

there's a beat of silence. "...my partner." geralt finishes his earlier statement, eyebrow raised and thoroughly unimpressed. ciri mostly just seems surprised. "don't worry, you get used to the chatter."

jaskier splutters, cheeks turning red in offense. "you! that was a perfectly lovely introduction, you

great big oaf, i dont know why i put up with you."

ciri giggles nervously, then claps a hand over her mouth, a much needed moment of levity for the young girl. it cant last forever, though. geralt says "we need to go to sodden hill."

"why?" ciri asks, dread filling her stomach at the thought of all that destruction, and geralt places a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"i think yen is there and i need to find her." he explains, and jaskier rolls his eyes.

"always chasing the old witch," he says, with maybe an undercurrent of jealousy, insecurity. it's something geralt will need to address, but not now. not like this.

"come on, bard." he says as he mounts roach and pulls ciri up with him.

"oh, left to walk as always while she gets the royal treatment? just a simple, gruff 'come bard', like im some dog who'll heel for you, i see how it is. so much for partner." he says with a sniff, and ciri giggles again, still a little uncertain. geralt bites back a smile.

"you can walk the other way, if you please." he replies, and jaskier sputters once more.

they quiet as they reach the battlefield, empty but for destruction and corpses. jaskier holds his nose for the stench.

geralt steps away from them to speak to the first person he sees, a woman in obvious shell-shock, looking around as if she's lost everything. perhaps she has. she looks at and yet through geralt as he speaks to her, seeing him without seeing him. then she speaks, and all of jaskier's disdain falls away with a gasp, hand flying to his chest.

"yennefer is dead."

it hangs in the air, dampening sound, stilling the trees. yennefer is dead. she is no more.

geralt's heart pounds in his ears, and he has so much and so little that he wants to say. he opens his mouth, and then stops. feels so faint, blinks away the fog in his mind, as certainty overcomes him.

"no, she isnt." he says, and tissaia looks at him with such pity, like he's in shock. and he doesnt know why he said it, except that it feels true. he feels almost lightheaded, shaky on his feet, anchored only by his knowledge that yen is alive.

"we are bound by fate. i would feel it if she were dead," he says, and he doesnt know if that's true, but he knows the certainty, and has no other explanation for it. it makes something like hope flicker across tissaia's face, warring with the absolute desolation.

"it cant be," she says, unwilling to trust the words of a strange man she's never met, one who couldnt know

"i'll find her," he says. "we'll meet again."

===

"i'm sorry." jaskier says, his voice so quiet. ciri is uneasily asleep, and jaskier and geralt sit around a fire.

"there's nothing to be sorry for. we'll find her again." geralt says, because it has to be true. it feels true. it must... it must...

jaskier lays a hand on geralt's arm, his voice soft and sympathetic. "then im sorry she's missing." he says, even though he clearly doesnt believe it.

the jealousy and insecurity has bled away now that she's gone. now that he /thinks/ she's gone, anyway. "all our old fighting... it was all so petty. even up till the last--" he stops himself, changes tracks. "...it was all so pointless. i know i pulled you between two people you cared about very much. and im sorry for it."

"i never minded. not really, not the little stuff. you and yen wouldn't be yourselves if you didnt bicker." geralt says, and jaskier shoots him a wane smile. he leans in to kiss geralt's cheek.

"then i promise i'll find something to be catty about when we find her again." he says, tucking geralt's hair behind his ear. "just-- i know this insecurity is gauche, considering the circumstances of her... disappearance. but if we do see her again, you'll still pick me, right?"

"yennefer means very much to me. but now that i have you, you're it for me, jaskier. i promise." he leans in to kiss jaskier on the mouth, short and quick and still so emotional. "she's my destiny, but you're my choice."

jaskier lets out a shaky breath, and pulls geralt in for another kiss.

===========

"tell me, friend, who changed you."

geralt smiles to himself as he considers his answer. "yennefer. ciri." he pauses, looking over at his companion, currently fiddling with a tchochkey on a shelf. "...jaskier." said man turns around when he hears his name, then freezes as if caught, item still in hand. when he meets geralt's eyes, though, he smiles, and geralt smiles back.

"well, you've the girl and the bard. but where is this lovely lady yennefer?" he asks, and geralt's smile falls.

"...she's gone." he says, and jaskier's mouth twists.

"last we heard, she was dead." jaskier says gently, and geralt flinches. he still refuses to believe it.

"she isnt," geralt insists, "but... wherever she is, she's still lost to me. who knows where she's gone to lick her wounds."

there's silence for a moment, pity etched into nivellen's eyes. "...i am sorry." he says, and geralt nods. let him think what he likes. geralt knows better.

=========

+++++++++

eskel says that if he had a princess surprise he would fuck her, and geralt feels blind rage rising in his chest, overpowering his mind as he thinks to ciri, little ciri, broken ciri, /his/ ciri. a child.

eskel would never say that, geralt thinks to himself, the absolute wrongness of it all settling over him like a cloak. something in his chest urges him forward. he wants to take eskel aside and slap sense into him, wants to know what happened to his most trusted brother, his most beloved, his other half, but he feels that same faintness in his head. he's starting to notice it, but it doesnt want to be noticed, it leaves him foggy and confused.

a vague impression seats itself in his mind. it almost sounds like 'i should have...' but it's gone just as quickly. he moves as if in a dream, filling a tankard with white gull, dosing it with sedative hidden away from when they were boys, when they needed to subdue witchers for medical treatment in a full keep.

eskel takes the mug and drinks it so fast, drinks like he's trying to outrun something, drinks like there's horror nipping at his heels. he falls asleep at the table, and geralt volunteers to bring him back to his room. vesemir offers to help, and he has no excuse to turn him down when carrying a full grown witcher's weight is such an ordeal, though he sweats under the collar when eskel cant even drunkenly stumble between them, fully dead to the world. vesemir must know something is wrong. he must.

they get him to his room with a lot of grumbling but no real issues, throw him down on the bed. "he drank himself into quite the stupor," vesemir says with shrewd eyes, brow furrowed.

geralt doesnt know what to say. "what's going on here, geralt?" he asks, and geralt's stomach plummets.

"i have to-- i cant explain, i just have to--" he starts, struggling for the words. "something is wrong. he's hurt." vesemir sends him a look that screams 'duh'.

"so you drug him to work on him in secret? this isnt like you." vesemir says, and geralt gets the crazy urge to laugh, because it isnt like him, he doesnt know what the fuck he's doing, except that he /must/.

witchers are allowed to lick their wounds in private, theyre allowed to come home angry and changed. geralt pushed them all away after blaviken, and none of them held him down, forced him, none of them acted like the mages that made them. he feels sick.

"we have to. vesemir, we--" he starts, grabbing eskel's shirt and lifting it to look at the damage. vesemir holds out a hand to stop him, and then they both fall still with a gasp. there, in his chest, right above his heart, is a piece of embedded wood.

it's big, not like a splinter, maybe the size of a fist, with spindly roots that anchor it, spreading out like veins under the surrounding skin. it pulses, just a bit, and embedded within the center of it is something else, a chunk of rock that almost looks like obsidian. rock gives way to wood gives way to flesh.

"we have to get it out of him." geralt says suddenly, going for the knife at his hip.

"we don't even know what it is," vesemir says, though the disgust is plain on his face. "what if removing it kills him? it could be in too deep."

"and what, just let it grow? it's right above his heart, it'll kill him soon anyway. and it's /moving/." geralt says, and vesemir looks pained.

"...i'll keep him out using somne," vesemir says, "we need to get it out fast but careful. dont leave a single branch behind."

they nod to each other, and geralt heats up the knife using igni, lets the flames lick the blade, then he gets to work.

eskel screams in his sleep, fighting against the drugs, against vesemir's hold, the first touch of heated metal enough to make his whole body tense. the wood contracts, roots tightening visibly beneath his skin, and geralt grits his teeth. one by one he pries them out of his guildsman's flesh, the wood sizzling and popping when touched by the hot blade. blood streams down eskel's chest, and he screams again, whole body arching

the roots convulse in the open air, trying to return to the safe haven of his veins, only to be cut off and thrown to the floor. a new root tries to grow in the old one's place and geralt cauterizes the stump, pressing the flat of the knife to it to produce even louder sizzling. if the thing could scream it would be, and eskel convulses once just like the thing in his chest.

suddenly, footsteps. the other's had heard his screams. lambert bursts in, shouts "what the fuck's going on?!" and geralt shakes his head, knowing what a strange scene they make, how threatening he looks holding a red knife.

"there's no time!" he says.

"go get every healing potion in the keep, now!" vesemir shouts, struggling not to break his own concentration. there's stillness, and then some of the gathered witchers run to do as told, while the rest watch in silent horror

geralt gets his nails under the edges of the thing and begins to lift, eskel once more arching up to follow him. it moves agonizingly slow, tearing eskel's flesh as the bark is dragged past his delicate muscle tissue. it seems to go on and on as geralt pulls, and to his own horror, he realizes something. it isnt just growing out, it's growing down. down into him, down towards his heart.

sweat drips down vesemir's forehead from holding the sign so firmly and so long. the root on the bottom extends down into eskel's chest, down towards his heart. geralt has to act fast and careful all at once.

his knife wasnt made for cutting wood, but he pushes it between the lump and eskel's body anyway, carving away at the spot where the root connects to the whole. there's so much fucking blood, he can barely see, and he has to drag the knife back and forth to get even the tiniest bit of progress, utterly devoid of leverage or the proper teeth to dig into the plant's flesh. then, finally, with a twist of his wrist, he snaps the wood chunk free from the root, cauterizes it, and throws it to the floor. only one last step.

he pushes flesh aside and sees the root go down, wrapped firmly around a rib, and then...

his heart. beating. right out there in the open, skin and muscle shoved aside to make way for that /THING/. the root is wrapped around the heart, squeezing, causing his convusions, and geralt feels sick, but there's no time to stop or wait. vesemir's control is slipping. blood is flowing faster now.

his fingers slip through blood and fat and viscera and things meant to be kept inside as he tries to untwist the root from the shock-white of eskel's rib bone. it snaps, apparently brittle now that it's disconnected from the whole, and geralt throws another piece at his feet. his hands arent clean, arent washed, but there's no goddamn time, so he slides a finger down beside his other half's very heart and hooks the back of the root. pulls so slow, so careful.

it pops free with a spray of blood, and all falls still.

"g'r'lt?" comes slurred from the bed. "did th't come outta' me?" eskel asks, and then immediately falls unconcious once more.

vesemir slumps against the wall. "gwain, coen," he says, panting just a bit, "the pig we were keeping for meat? slaughter it. we need a skin graft, clean and quick. everard, merek, sutures and everything else we need to clean and bandage."

only lambert remains, pale and silent, staring at the floor where the pieces of now inert wood rest. time seems less linear, suddenly, and nobody has much clue how much of it passes. all they know is that lambert cleans up the pieces of foreign blood-soaked thing into a jar for safekeeping, and the supplies filter in. eskel gets healing daughts poured down his throat, and geralt keeps working to stitch his chest together with pig skin, wont let anyone else touch him. they both breathe easier once the final stitch is in place, and geralt steps back with shaking hands as the other witchers wipe down his skin, slather it in healing poultices, and cover him in bandages. geralt falls asleep on the floor, trembling, without the sense in his head to clean away his brother's blood.

when eskel wakes up, he thanks them. tells them his head felt wrong, something whispering in it, ever since that leshen got one lucky shot. says the leshen didnt look right, didnt act right, that he couldnt remember how to kill it once it embedded in his chest. "it's like it went to seed in him," vesemir says in horror, and everyone shakes their heads, and they dont know what to do. but eskel is there. he is weak, and he is bedridden, and he is /there/.

finally, kaer morhen can rest.

=========

vesemir doesnt think these flowers are the answer. he doesnt recognize them-- though if he knew every part of the formula, it wouldnt be lost to him as well. still, though, it doesnt sound right to his ear, even if he doesnt know as much about flora as one might if they'd dedicated their life to the study of it. he can imagine, though, being desperate enough to believe it. he thinks back to eskel, and how they'd almost lost him to such a stupid error. he feels the loss of their way of life, their traditions, weighing on his shoulders in a way he never thought he'd face in his lifetime.

the little scrap of paper in her hand is so innocuous. and even if it's wrong, or merely an approximation of what once was, he feels the need to keep it, to catalogue it, preserve it as he has everything else in the keep... even the unsavory ones. the metal rack so many boys died on, that countless others were changed in, /chained/ in, sitting in the basement like it's a coffee table. like it's nothing. like it isnt horrific.

but it's all he has. and it's what they needed.

his fingers curl around the paper. "how many other people know of this blossom? would be likely to put two and two together?" he asks.

"not many at all, i would imagine. even fewer would know how to apply the knowledge , or enough inner workings of witchers to make the leap. and it's only a theory, anyway, i cant confirm it as of yet." she replies, watching him closely.

their numbers, so weakened, so devastated. the continent is running out of monsters, but it hasnt run dry just yet-- witchers are still needed, and theyre dwindling. and yet...

he flicks his fingers, and the page goes up in flames. a little cast of igni, and suddenly the secret is unknown once more. "cant let anyone know how we're made-- sorcerers have been after the information for as long as there have been witcher schools. no telling what havoc they'd wreak across the continent if they had the recipe. and... there will be no more boys."

he looks at the ashes in his hand, and he aches in ways he doesnt have words for, for the life he had and the men he lost and all those boys. "i thank you for your diligence, and your offer," he says diplomatically, "but i urge you to forget what you've discovered, and tell no one. and if you do decide to divulge our secrets, then i can only pray your approximations were wrong."

she had looks surprised when the fire burst to life, but understanding settles across her features.

there will be no more potions. no more blood spilt for these old stones. and there will be no more boys. he never even mentions their clandestine conversation to ciri. she deserves her choices, but she's a traumatized child, and he's an adult. he doesnt need to burden her with this.

=====

+++++

"yennefer of vengerberg." jaskier says in awe. cant believe geralt was right. cant believe she's alive. "shouldve known you wouldnt stay dead, rotting necrophage that you are," he says, catty and mean and a little breathless because she's /alive/. but then her arms are around him, and she's hugging him so tight he can barely breathe, and he lets out a shocked grunt. "uh? hugging? you're hugging me, you do know you're hugging me, right?" he asks, mouth running faster in his confusion.

"oh jaskier," she says, "it's so good to see you."

"good. to see /me/. did you hit your head at sodden? is that where you've been all this time, wandering the countryside mindlessly?" he asks, and she snorts. snorts! like he's funny! which he is, but she's never admitted it before.

"oh how i miss when my problems were as small as a single sing-songy twit." she says fondly, taking him by the shoulders and leaning back to take a look at him.

"now i'll never admit to having said this, i'll deny it if you ever try to tell... but i am very glad you're not dead, yennefer." it comes out so damn soft, and for all their bickering it's hard not to be soft about someone you've known at least ten years. he cradles her arms in his palms, so they're both holding each other but at arm's length. "but i really must ask, where the hell have you been? we've been looking for you!"

"it's a long story," she says evasively, and he narrows his eyes.

"ah, well, if it's long then you certainly wouldnt want to tell it twice." he says, and leads her down the corridor, towards a closed door. "here," he says gently as he pushes it open, "i figure if you're here, you'd like to see geralt, too."

the room goes so still. "i knew," geralt says. "i knew we'd find each other." he says, and yennefer runs into his open arms for a hug, stress melting away as she tucks her face into his neck. for the first time in a long time, she feels /safe/.

jaskier watches them fondly, shoulder resting against the doorway. they'll have time for questions and answers. for now they can just be happy the world has a touch less death in it.

=======

"yen," he says gently. "im sorry for what i said. you would make an excellent mother."

yen's face does something complicated. "geralt--"

"ciri will need one." he says, and yen recoils in shock, to hear him offer it so plainly.

"so-- what, you want you and i to play house with your little orphan?" she asks, and it comes out harsh, but she doesnt take it back. geralt shakes his head.

"it wouldnt be like that. im... im with jaskier now." geralt replies, and that makes yen's eyebrows fly up in shock. "we wouldnt be... together like that. but we would be friends. partners. equals. i think it might be good for us, to take the heartache out of the equation. and ciri needs a teacher, someone like you. i think you'd be good for each other." he pauses, and when yen has nothing to say to that, he says "think about it."

she steps through a portal with ciri anyway. she sees him beg them not to leave, and she walks away anyway. but his offer rings in her head as loud as voleth meir's promises, and halfway to their destination yennefer brings them to a stop. ciri is so bright. so bright and beautiful, and with such great power, hair like geralt's and a heart like geralt's, so hurt and yet longing so deeply for love, and she looks at yennefer with such /trust/. so much trust, and she's leading this doe-eyed girl astray, what could be hers, what /should/ be hers, and yennefer is tired of sacrificing and sacrificing and sacrificing. she loves hard and she loves vicious and she loves selfishly, and when ciri demonstrates her powers yen thinks /my daughter did that. my. mine./

she thinks /you cannot have her,/ she thinks /you will not take this from me,/ she thinks, /i will no longer have no choice. i have a choice. i am making it./

and she turns on her heel and leads ciri in an entirely different direction. she leads ciri away from doom that ciri never even knew was hanging over her head. voleth meir screams, and she walks away anyway, down a road where she knows an equally angry geralt will find her. she only hopes she can talk him out of his rage before he sends her away.

====

"i want to know where yennefer of vengerberg is going." geralt says to codrinher and fenn. they look at each other, and then back at him.

"and you think we know this? we dont keep track of EVERY person on the continent, geralt." fenn replies

"i dont have time for games. i just need something, anything. where was she recently. she has--... someone very dear to me. and i must find them." geralt says, hands balled into fists.

they exchange a look. "we truly cant tell you her whereabouts. she hasnt been seen in quite a while. all that's known is that she was mumbling to herself last she was seen, before she vanished."

"what was she saying?" he presses, and codringer looks thoughtful.

"something like 'turn back to the forest, turn back to your mother'?" he says, scratching his chin.

"turn your back to the forest, hut hut. turn your front to me, hut hut." geralt says, understanding dawning on him.

"could be. our ears on the ground didnt hear it any clearer." fenn says, seemingly annoyed that there's information she doesnt know.

"i know where she's going " he says, throws a bag on coins on the table, and leaves as quick as he came.

===

geralt has his sword drawn before they even see him, terror lancing through him at the idea of ciri being taken to that being. ciri shouts with joy when she spots him, then with fear as he presses his sword to yen's throat. she lets him, no fight in her.

"i couldnt do it. i turned back. back to you." she swears, and geralt glances between the two of them, trying to assess if ciri is alright.

"geralt, what are you /doing/," she begs, looking so young and so frightened.

"what did she promise you? money? power?" geralt asks, betrayal running deep, burning him up inside, because he'd /trusted/ yen, and first chance she got she ran off with his child. /his/. to sacrifice her to something old and foul.

yen looks decimated. "...i cant be ciri's teacher. my magic... it's gone." yen says, and geralt startles at that. then she whispers, soft and broken and desperate, "geralt, she's in my head."

suddenly geralt sees her for what she is. someone very hurt, and very alone, who fought through the promises and manipulations of a demon to bring his daughter back to him. he slowly lowers his sword and pulls yennefer into an embrace. "we'll fix it." geralt promises

====

it doesnt get any easier to ignore voleth meir, but she looks around and sees kaer morhen, and the family that she's been welcomed into, and remembers that she's allowed to stay. that she has fought tooth and nail for every inch of her life until now, and she can keep fighting. that ciri is /hers/.

she teaches magic anyway, without demonstrations. it's hard for ciri, and it's hard for yen, but she isnt as worthless as she feared she'd be powerless. ciri looks up to her. ciri hugs her. ciri asks her hair be plaited for dinner. ciri is her choice, and she makes it every morning.

until one morning, it changes.

it starts small, just a creep, just a tickle. but she snaps her fingers, and a book by her bedside begins to float.

she'd burned herself out, ran her magic dry, scorched the channels it flowed through, but it healed. it came back with time. it was always going to come back with time.

she collapses to her knees and sobs, sobs like a child, for what has been returned to her.

and without her magic to tempt her, voleth meir loses her foothold in yennefer's mind. the whispers quiet and fade until theyre nothing but a memory.

and finally, yennefer is free.

=========

when geralt lays down that night, he dreams.

"ive found a djinn," yen says,

and geralt sees himself ask "another one?"

"except i wont try to tame this one." yen says, insists that it could be the answer to their problems. "we could keep ciri safe, teach her how to use her powers, if we phrase them just right the wishes could be the thing that saves us."

the scene changes. once more, he has a seal in his hand. "i wish i had the hindsight not to get into these problems anymore." he says, because he never makes the right choice.

the dream falls away with the sunlight streaming in, bright on his face. he looks down around him, at the little family he's created; jaskier by his side, ciri's head in his lap and feet near his face, yennefer asleep on a cot with her hand on ciri's. and he decides that this time he did make the right choice. he decides that he's happy.

#witcher tag #ogc tag #writing tag #did i really never post this??#if i posted this before and just forgot then everyone ignore me #witcher #geraskier #the witcher

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captainkurosolaire · 4 months ago

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Sublunary Love

A ghastly apparition tread to where a contract flower would be reunited its garden. Upon crossing a bridge the rushing river-stream he foresaw that abhorrent reflection of a deathly harvester. It wasn't honorable to present himself in this manner. There's a moment to sheathe. Value's learned, conscious of choice was his belonging. Time to rectify his mistakes in their short-date. He'd clean, bandaging wounds, dressing formally. Having a hobble-step, but stony composed. Fellow amber-hues, enlarged of Kunoichi, as she opened a door-knock, with a coquettish grin, purring cat-like, "Wow our favorite slayer returns, meeeow. Strikingly!" The colorful-assassin imparted. Then gave a boop upon his nose, teasingly, "She's all yours, we'll reconvene one-day. Imagine repercussions will come. Should those-arise, I'll be close. Embrace solitude, stud." Companionship offered. Overall drowning her feelings. Answer was clear towards Shaman's effect on him. Those who're sentenced amongst darkness, may find a vigil-light they're in need to crawl out. Dangerous-heel's clacked distantly, his voice-interrupted, turned and eastern-bowed, "Thank you." Nerves in his facial-features couldn't function, yet emotion's in voice resonated harmonic. Ya'chi could truly-depart with a proven gleam; waving him off. His new-wielded blade; was a Sakurasou as he approached Client. She'd comment, "Someone's always got tricks! Arsenal of killer-techniques. Should've expected you'd complete my task without any hiccups. As I vowed, I'll not bother any-longer, you're free." Sorrow tinged in octaves, extending her fetch for flora retrieval. Unexpected, he struck. Knees collapsed beneath her stead, with-forgiveness. His thumb-ever bent the tip of a petal, intentionally, wasn't enough to damage, but showcase blemish. Sincerely billowed, "I'm afraid, I've failed the contract... I'd seemingly lose, again and again, with you." Inflection carried emotions. Crossed-hand's came over her facial-features gasping, awestruck. Confession played, "...But what's inside me tells me, I'm victorious within your company; that I am. If given opportunity, I Hoku, would properly like to show you a true date." Not only did the nameless-one, shed his name, he was proposing for a date? What a goof-ball! She'd hysterically cackle, eyes-teared happiness, "...Such unpredictability. I accept, also I'm Rokeia! You're silly too, even under those guises of a formidable-killer! Not certain what your disciplinary training did... Only thing, missing is this..." Two-fingers intersected across his lip's spread into a kingly smile. Her warm-sensations, made eyes-close; intoxicating peace. Revealing coyly, "I'll have to equip you with these from now-on Mister! Smiles lay important, keeping darkness at their bay not to be all-consuming; but still to be marveled. Like the Sun's Setting Shadow!" Thriving knowledge was given. She's life - a road light, left-on for creatures that hunt as night, a soothsayer which awakens those beastly hearts from captivity. He's shadow - avatar of death, cold-steel of security, carrying resolve that'd arm upon need. Hoku detached his weaponry, only him remained. "I only want to be with you." A palpable heart-beat, Thrummed... Thumped... Drummed Her own hypnotically sung. Blush-ignited her cheeks; crimson for once not of blood was made, "...Y-you assassinate many barriers, such trouble, it's unfair!" Making a pretend-pout. Spider-like-digits; heavenly splendors, tracing from his woven lips until her delicate palms melted his cheeks; wielding him. Attention orbited to her, type shadows followed if permitted. Mirror motions came descending to eye-level. Her violet-orbs encouraged those star-golden, twinkling for cosmic unity. Following, would be their first joining of many. A force known as [us.] emerged. Promising eternal, ever-afters. The balanced-kiss, sealed it.

[Prev:Chapter]: Unsheathe, Heart ~ ♪"Eternal Requiem"♪

#10 of 100 #Creative Writing #Black Miracles #scarlet destiny: volume 4 #Hoku Solaire #Rokeia Solaire #Tales of the Goldbrand #Ya'chi #writers #This arc basically done #Might do the other 98 Black Miracle fights one-day if Hoku wins a poll later #Let's hope I can hit the mood swap required for next chap #Should be last one potentially then Capt's back #I need to fix crime tools and practice

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mismaeve · 2 years ago

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Stars of Lasgalen

↳ Stars of Lasgalen, Thranduil x Reader, fluff Warnings: Aside from sickening amounts of fluff, none A/N: As promised, I wrote a little something for my one year Tolkien anniversary. Thank you so much to everyone who has ever bothered reading any of my silly stuff, who have decided to press that follow button and enter the chaos that is my blog. This piece, even though it's short, is dedicated to all of my followers, my darling mutuals and my dear friends. I love you! For the sake of being sentimental and to add a degree of symbolism, here is my first story, written a year ago on this very day.

A featherlight kiss interrupted the blissful silence that gathered and endured inside the four walls of your bedchambers. Your husband’s soft lips lingering on your cheek in his gentle attempt to rise you from your peaceful slumber.

“My love,” Thranduil whispered before his lips found your forehead and graced it with another tender kiss while fingers light as the first snows of winter, brushed and weaved through your hair.

“Is it morning already?” you asked as you shifted underneath the heavy furs, unwilling to bare your naked skin to the cold and gripping morning air.

“The sun has long risen, I’m afraid it does not wait, not even on someone as beautiful as my beloved wife,” Thranduil mused softly while his fingers took the liberty of caressing your features, the back of his hand gliding over the softness of your cheek with weightless grace.

“That may very well be so, but pray tell, why has my husband forsaken our bed and left my side vulnerable to the biting cold?” you teased him with a playful scowl, pulling up the furs to your chin to further emphasize your discontent.

His answer to your growing displeasure did little to brighten your mood, his open amusement mocking you in the face of your misery.

“I am certain you will forgive me my trespasses once you see what I have brought for you, my fairest of all the stars,” he purred as he leaned in and planted a light kiss on the tip of your nose.

“The keeper and guardian of my heart,” Thranduil continued as his warm lips found your cheek and lingered there before venturing to your temple.

“My darling wife and most gracious queen,” his breath was hot against your skin.

“Flattery will not save you now, dear husband,” you murmured with your eyes closed, savoring his kisses while trying your best to remain determined of not giving in so easily.

“Then perhaps this will.”

You heard the subtle shuffling of his robes and opened your eyes, peering downwards to his hands you couldn’t help yourself but blink in surprise. Thranduil appeared to be holding pure starlight in his hands, the pale rays of the morning sun gleaming off it and nearly blinding you with the bright light it reflected. It was light in its purest form, a precious beauty and most valuable treasure beyond any measure.

“What,” you breathed out, mesmerized by what your eyes were struggling to behold.

“Where ever did you get this?” you whispered in honest wonder.

“They are known as the white gems of Lasgalen, fashioned into a necklace by the dwarves of Erebor,” Thranduil explained softly while his fingers peeled the furs off your chest thus exposing your neck.

“It must have cost a fortune,” you sighed overwhelmed by your husband’s generosity and willingness to spare no expense on your behalf. You knew only too well the greed that drove the King under the Mountain and could imagine beyond any doubts the fee he must have demanded from your husband as payment for something as wondrous and masterfully crafted.

“An occasion such as this, the one-year anniversary of our marriage demanded for nothing less than what I am giving you now, my love,” your husband pointed out patiently, his lips wrought into a loving smile, his eyes reflecting every inch and ounce of his eternal devotion to you.

“May I?” he asked as he unclasped the delicate necklace.

All you could do was nod slowly and watch as Thranduil moved to adorn your neck with pure starlight, the ultimate symbol of his love for you.

“I do not know how to thank you, or where to even begin,” you started but were silenced by his finger gently pressing to your lips.

“You being my wife is all the thanks I will ever need from you,” Thranduil murmured softly while his eyes admired the gift he had bestowed upon you.

“Every morning where I wake and catch a glimpse of my beautiful queen, is one that I cherish. I could not imagine life being worth living unless you were by my side, and I pray I never have to.”

You smiled warmly at your husband’s words, emerging from the softness of the furs, the cold no longer bothering you in the least, you moved yourself onto Thranduil’s lap and were immediately sheltered by his strong arms, pulling you close to his chest and shielding you from the cold with his velvety robes.

“My sweet love,” you mumbled against the crook of his neck and cuddled closer to your king, clinging to him like the early morning frost clings to the petals of winter blooms.

Your husband hummed his content, resting his chin atop your head while his arms cradled you with his fierce love and dreams of your bright future.

“I believe my trespass for abandoning you this morning is forgiven?” he asked after a while, making you snort in amusement.

Gif by @jeniferdasilva07 Taglist: @heilith @kanafinwe-makalaure @i-did-not-mean-to @eunoiaastralwings @coopsgirl @aduialel @deep-space-elf @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @augustwithquills @warriormirkwood @missymoo02 @mxmia @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @sotwk @dawn-petrichor-world

#thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil oropherion #the elvenking #tolkien elves #the hobbit #fotfics #thranduil fluff #thranduil fanfiction

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listenheresweaty · 7 months ago

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BURGER VAN BURGER VAN—- Top text, Bottom text. ——— REVIVEBUR X READER - omg guys it’s here can you believe that I took four months to post something I had already written out

——-

Warnings: copious alcohol consumption, mentions of ableist remarks, allusions to underage drinking, jokes about alcoholism by people with drinking problems (addiction is a mental illness guys. Please be respectful about it.) The alcoholism stuff started off as humor based on my own experiences*. I had intended on expanding on it and making it into a larger plot line about recovery/etc but I do not know if I’ll ever continue this work.

*alcohol has played a role in my life but I am not technically an addict. If anything in this fic is offensive, please let me know and I’ll change it/ take it down.

Reader is called “guy” but is otherwise gender neutral.

There are a couple jokes about Beeduo flirting but it is intended humorously, not with any romantic intent.

—————-

It was a blisteringly, stupidly hot day, made only more intolerable by the long expanses of hot sand and lack of vegetation. Although, you supposed it was your fault for deciding to get a job in the Las Nevadas Casino- quite literally smack dab in the middle of a desert. Fortunately, just in the edges of the desert territory, where the sands met fresh green grass, sat a quaint, almost minuscule burger van. It received very few customers, partly due to the uninhabited nature of the area and partly because of the owner’s less than appealing reputation.

You believed that the owner’s— his name was Wilbur-- reputation was mostly undeserved. Sure, he had done some extremely questionable things in his past, and continued to carry himself with a madman’s easy grace and confidence, sending people scurrying out of his way— it was fair to say that most of the people you knew were afraid of Wilbur, despite his lack of physical strength. You, however, could never find him intimidating. He was too much of a loser complete dork.

Wilbur certainly wasn’t imposing as you walked up to him, eyeing his tall form awkwardly making its way through the van that was clearly too small for him.

He looked so silly, leaning over the burgers as they cooked, that it was hard to imagine that this was the same man everyone spoke about with such fear. You had to laugh.

Wilbur stood up straight at the sound, bumping his head against the van’s ceiling and letting out a stream of curses that stopped abruptly when his eyes landed on you.

“Quite the colorful vocabulary you have.” You teased, approaching the vans window with a playful smile. “Perhaps we should wash your mouth out with soap.”

Wilbur stood still for a moment, hand still braced against the van ceiling, before he relaxed and sent you a lopsided smile. “Only if you do it, darling.”

“Oh shut up.” You laughed. “Why in the world would you make the van so small, anyway? It’s not like it benefits your coworker- the kid’s even taller than you are.”

“Never question the logic of a genius.” Wilbur sighed like a cat stretching out in the sun, leaning out of the van with his elbows against the windowsill. “What are you doing all the way out here, anyway? You should be working. Don’t tell me-“ he grinned impossibly wider, leaning even closer, “that you missed me that much?”

You snorted. “Absolutely not. You must be concussed. How hard did you hit your head?”

Wilbur’s bottom lip pulled downwards in an exaggerated pout. “Quite hard, actually. I think I might need to see a doctor.” He sighed, dramatically.

“Awww, poor baby.” You cooed with false sympathy, reaching up above to run your fingers through Wilbur’s brown curls. “Where’d you hit yourself? Here?”

Wilbur was struck dumb, mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out—clearly, he wasn’t used to being flirted with. He regained his composure quickly, leaning into your touch with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Mhmm.” He sighed, keeping up the act. “I’m afraid it’s terminal. They’ll have to pull the plug on me.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m already hallucinating.” Wilbur announced, ever so dramatically. “Oh, [Name], sweetheart, will you cry at my funeral?”

“Of course.” You snickered, trying hard to keep a straight face. “Hallucinating? Really?”

“Hm.” A smirk pulled at Wilbur’s lips. “I’m already seeing angels.”

You rolled your eyes. “Must every sentence you utter twist itself into a pickup line?”

“Only for you.” The corners of Wilbur’s mouth pulled upwards to form an uncharacteristically genuine grin. The smile disappeared as fast as it came, making you wonder if you had only imagined it.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Wilbur offered, leaning back into the van (and nearly hitting his head, once again, against the top of the window frame).

You hesitated.

“I have air conditioning in here.” He added.

“Open the door.” You said immediately, making your way to the back of the van and jiggling the doorknob. You heard Wilbur laugh and cross the threshold quite quickly, almost frantically unlocking the doors in order to grab your hand and hoist you in. You sighed in relief at the feeling of the cool air washing over you, whisking away the sheen of sweat that the heat had formed on your skin.

Wilbur patted the counter next to him and you complied, sitting on the cool marble surface and letting your feet dangle as she observed the world outside the van window. It was a beautiful day outside, all things considered.

Wilbur gestured to the burgers that were still cooking (actually, at this point, you were fairly certain that they were burnt). “Do you mind if I continue churning out my mediocre meat meals?” He asked.

You snorted. “Go ahead.” After a few beats of silence, you spoke again. “You know, your burgers aren’t that bad.”

Wilbur hummed, but maintained focus on the dark slab of burnt meat he was trying to chisel off the grill with a spatula. “Is that so? They sure don’t seem to be bringing in many customers, do they?” He leaned in with a teasing grin. “Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, darling.”

“It isn’t flattery.” You said. “It’s not your burgers that—“

You cut yourself off abruptly, cursing your mistake.

Wilbur clearly understood what you had been about to say, and raised an eyebrow. The quality of his business wasn’t what customers were avoiding- people avoided him.

“I suppose your right.” He said shrugging. His easygoing and flippant attitude had returned, but there was a more sullen, guarded undertone to his words. You wracked your brain for something to say, but nothing surfaced.

A clinking of glass broke you out of your thoughts. “Want a drink?” Wilbur offered, eager to change the subject.

You nodded absentmindedly. The sun was setting in the horizon, marking the approach of closing hours for most businesses in the area, including the van. Wilbur rummaged through a wooden cabinet before pulling out two expensive-looking bottles and handing one to you. “Help yourself.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Vodka? Where did you get this?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Just a little place I know. Tiny little store far from here.”

“Hm. And this tiny little far-away store sells vodka with the Las Nevadas logo on the cap?”

You heard him curse softly.

“Damn.” Wilbur chuckled. “I forgot to remove those.”

You held out your glass as Wilbur filled it, before leaning back against the wall of the van. Wilbur leaned against the counter next to you.

You swirled your cup around, eyeing the moving liquid before tilting your head back and taking a rather large sip.

“So, what have you been up to?” You asked him. “When you’re not stealing expensive liquor from the casino?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Well.. not much honestly. I’ve just been working here at the van. There’s not much I can do on most days— since my fry guy either forgets to come to work or is out flirting with the rival fry guy across the street. Then, I… ‘visit’ the casino.”

You hummed, draining your glass and gesturing for Wilbur to refill it. Wilbur complied.

“Aren’t you permanently banned from the casino? My boss would kill you if he caught you on the premises.” You continued, only half joking.

Wilbur laughed. “Oh, he could certainly try. But if a few bans can’t stop me, neither can he.”

“Can’t he?”

“Of course not.” Wilbur snickered. “He’s like half my height.”

“He could still snap you like a twig. Hell, I could snap you like a twig.”

Wilbur smiled. “Oh, I know. It’s hot.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s hot? The fact that I can beat you in a fight or that my boss can beat you in a fight?”

Wilbur choked on his drink. “Wh- YOU. Not- I’m not-“

You burst out laughing. “Damn, okay. I didn’t know that’s the kind of relationship you had with him.”

Wilbur spluttered. “N-no—!”

“I guess there’s more to your rivalry than meets the eye.” You sighed, grabbing the vodka bottle to refill your glass yourself since Wilbur was too busy coughing to oblige. “How romantic.”

“NO. I-I meant YOU—- I don’t have the hots for Quackity, for Gods sake. “ Wilbur looked somewhere between abashed and scandalized. “I hate the man!”

You drained your third glass. “Mm-hmm.”

Wilbur huffed. “Well, going back to the topic of whether or not Alex— sorry, ‘your boss’—could beat me up-“

“He could.” You interjected.

Wilbur sighed. “Don’t interrupt me. Anyway, YES he could beat me in a physical confrontation— stop smirking!—but you’re forgetting something important. Our rivalry is based on genius. On cold, calculated planning, ALWAYS staying one step ahead…”

“…and burgers.” You said.

“And burgers.” He agreed, finishing another glass. “Whew, I should quit drinking for today.”

“You should.” You found yourself saying, the vodka having greatly loosened your tongue. “We wouldn’t want one of today’s beautiful minds to go to waste for a pint or two of heavy liquor.”

Wilbur stiffened, turning toward you slightly to look at you with wide eyes. His cheeks looked darker than usual, although that might have been the alcohol he had consumed.

You blinked. “…What?”

Wilbur paused before speaking, raising an eyebrow. “‘Beautiful mind’?” He repeated, trying to portray smugness but the waver in his voice betrayed some other emotion. “Me?”

You nodded, watching a crimson blush that certainly had nothing to do with the alcohol settle on Wilbur’s cheekbones. You continued speaking. “Yeah. I’ve never met someone who views the world like you do, or has the same talent with words as you. You’re like a poet, honestly. .. you’re pretty incredible.”

Wilbur stared at you, caught completely off guard for the first time in his life. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to form coherent words, but failed. Oh, the irony.

It was the last thing he had expected to hear, you realized as you studied his flushed face. After his return, people had been whispering about Wilbur, using several adjectives to describe him-- none of them pleasant. “Insane” and “a ticking time bomb” had been some of the nicer ones. To hear someone compliment the very same thing that everyone had chosen to pick apart and belittle must have moved him greatly.

You wondered how people could be so foolish. Wilbur had done some reprehensible things, and continued to be morally gray at best, but he was still human.

“Broken mind,” they had all said as he walked past, thinking he wouldn’t hear.

“Beautiful mind,” You had told him.

Wilbur looked like he wanted to cry, glancing away from you with a poorly suppressed, wobbly grin.

You wanted to hug him. Perhaps he’d appreciate that, after having been isolated and despised for years.

“I mean that, you know?” You hastily added as Wilbur tried to scoff and brush it off.

His head tilted. “…Of course.”

You actually moved to hug him, startling the both of you. Standing a few inches in front of him, you hesitantly opened your arms, praying to the gods that you hadn’t made anything worse.

He shuddered slightly, nodding, and sank against you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his forehead against your shoulder.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

The next day, you forced your way through the casino, with sluggish movements and a pounding headache. You must have drunk more than you thought yesterday. Regardless, you took off towards Wilbur’s burger van as soon as you had the chance. This time, there were two tall figures moving about in the van. Wilbur’s fry guy, a shy kid named Ranboo , had finally returned.

Ranboo dipped his head in greeting as you approached. Wilbur remained facing towards the grill, seemingly determined not to burn more meat and unaware of your presence.

“Hello Mx., what would you like to order?” Ranboo asked.

“Hmmm… I’m a bit indecisive today. What do you suggest?” You responded.

At the sound of your voice, Wilbur whipped around, swiveling the upper half of his body toward you and Ranboo.

You met his eyes and smiled, eyes soft.

“Well, our five-spice burger is pretty popular right now. If you, uh, aren’t a fan of spicy foods, then the chicken patty is also a popular option.” Ranboo was saying. You turned your attention back towards him.

“Spicy burger sounds great, thank you.”

“And to drink?”

“Just a water, please.” You didn’t think you could handle alcohol after yesterday. Wow, you were a lightweight.

“Water?” Wilbur asked as Ranboo turned to prepare the ingredients for your burger. “That’s kinda lame.”

“Shush, you.” You retorted. “How are you holding up, anyway?”

Wilbur hesitated, and Nadia saw Ranboo glance at them curiously. He probably didn’t want to discuss his moment of weakness in front of his employee.

“The hangover, I mean.” You added. “With all the alcohol you consumed yesterday, I’m surprised you came to work.”

He relaxed a bit. “Yeah, I’m alright. Doing better than last night at least, but the headache’s a killer.” He frowned in mock offense. “And don’t you twist the story around! You drank almost as much as I did.”

You frowned. “I did not!”

“You did too. Alcoholic.”

“I am not an alcoholic. I’m not the one with three bottles of stolen vodka in a drawer.” You pointed out. Ranboo handed over your burger and water. “(Thank you, Ranboo.)”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Wilbur snorted. “You seem more of a wine person to me. You probably have a stash of Pinot noir under your bed or something.”

“Under my bed? Why the hell would anyone store alcohol under their bed?”

Wilbur shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a wine aunt thing.”

“I give you wine aunt vibes?” You asked. “I don’t even have any nephews or nieces. Or have ever been responsible for any kids.”

“Thank god for that.”

You grinned and halfheartedly slapped his shoulder, ignoring his last statement “Silence, fool.”

Ranboo coughed. “Uhh… if you guys are done flirting… it’s my break now. Can I go across the street?”

Wilbur waved his hand. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” When Ranboo was out of earshot, he turned to Nadia and sighed. “Hypocrite. As if he isn’t heading to do the exact same thing.”

“Kids.” You shrugged, ignoring the part about the two of you flirting.

“He’s seventeen.”

“Still a child. Until he turns eighteen, he’s still a child.”

“Fair enough.” Wilbur stared off towards where Ranboo had run off to before turning back to you hesitantly. “So… since he probably won’t return for the rest of the day, how about you and I go somewhere? Together? You can finish your burger along the way.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Go where?”

“I-I don’t know.” Wilbur’s confidence seemed to falter, his metaphorical mask slipping and revealing the nervousness beneath. “Just… walk? In general? I-I know some nice places— or, well, I know that there are nice places around here-“

“Sounds nice.” You interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “Should we go now, then?”

Wilbur froze. “Yeah. Now. Now sounds good.”

That’s it I’m done I can’t with this pacing

#sweaty “writes”#c!wilbur x reader #revived wilbur #revivedbur x reader #Sweaty Learn how normal people talk and write passable dialogue challenge: impossible #I communicate through clicks and body language like a cow I do not speak complex sentences #Hopefully the c!wilbur fandom is still alive #I’m on fucking deaths door here

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