#please take it away cyan

[deathsdue]

Minerva. His eyes welled with unshed tears. She had looked after him for so long in his mother's stead and this was how he repaid her. He turned his head to see her sitting nearby, eyes trained on the pair of them as if listening to their conversation.

Somehow, he had become a burden to both of them. It was good that his parents weren't around so that he couldn't burden them as well.

Yet, it was a relief to hear her words all the same. He hated having to rely on her but the truth was that he needed that right now. He did not want to be alone.

Beneath the sun's harsh light and Cynthia's worried gaze, Gerome knew he had been in a bad spot only moments before. More than bad. He had never let his darkness pull him into a rip tide like that, and he was suddenly not eager to close the curtain again. How long could he ignore it? Was it even possible to? Even now...

After a moment's pause, Gerome nodded to her words.

"Wherever you go Cynthia, I will follow." She would get no push back on this.

before it all began

[kitasuno]

i'll keep every promise (if it's a promise with you) | oikawa tooru x reader

oikawa tooru has a bad habit of breaking promises and running from his first love. or: the four times oikawa breaks his promises and the one time he keeps one

( a / n ) - oh my god this is my magnum opus... my baby.. its a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff and a little slice of life. u go through ages 6 to 28 LMFAO. iwaizumi + you + oikawa were such a fun trio to write for and i hope u guys enjoy !!

gn! reader | 2k words | happy birthday OIKAWA

Oikawa Tooru has a guilty conscience and a bad habit of breaking his promises. 

For every promise made and every promise broken, Tooru repents: 200 yen slid in a saisen-bako, a ninety degree bow, two wishes at a shrine. An offering to counter every promise he breaks, ample water to wash away his sins, and apologies written on wood.

 ( Iwaizumi has made the grand suggestion of: Maybe not breaking your promises? on several occasions, but Tooru can’t help it. ) 

He’s broken four promises and made eight wishes so far: four on blue Tanzaku and four atop Ema boards, followed with a prayer and an offering if the promise broken was particularly heinous or particularly his fault. 

He breaks his first promise at six years old– one made with you and Iwaizumi when the three of you were four and freshly neighbors. It was Tooru’s birthday, and he had promised this: 

I swear that I will take us all to the Ryokan before I turn six.

It’s a small promise: one that neither you nor Hajime had expected him to follow through with. But Tooru believed it, and Tooru had tried. He takes every single chore and odd job in the Oikawa household, scraping together a two-year-old Ryokan trust fund with mismatched coins and crumpled bills. He saves his allowances and puts everything in a glass jar next to his bed, and dreams.

Two Julys pass. Oikawa blows out four candles and then five, the jar gets bigger, you start Elementary school, and you and Hajime forget about the Ryokan. And then, on the third July, when Tooru turns six, you and Iwaizumi find Tooru mumbling about a broken promise— courtesy of his failure to take the three of you on an all inclusive trip to that Snow Monkey Ryokan that Iwaizumi wanted to go to. 

So he apologizes through prayers at a shrine and two wishes under a red Torii gate. It’s a thirty five stair climb to the neighborhood shrine: Hajime and Tooru race up and you come last, but the view is gorgeous and Tooru feels considerably less guilty.

It is 100 yen for each wish on a colored paper strip. Hajime says they’re called Tanzaku. Hajime drops one coin, Tooru drops four, you drop two. Seven thunks, four wishes. 

Tooru gets the honor of tying your tanzaku on bamboo branches as the tallest of your trio, and with it, the honor of reading your wishes.

Iwaizumi’s wish is messy and scrawled on bright red— Tooru tells him to Please work on your handwriting, but it’s legible and all well wishes for volleyball and you and Oikawa and cicadas.

Tooru’s got two wishes— a cyan one and a turquoise one, but he only lets you and Hajime read the cyan one. His cyan one is a little neater than Iwaizumi’s and reads:

Sorry I couldn’t take us to the Monkey Ryokan. 

He hangs the red one on his tippy-toes. Cyan next. Hajime cheers a little when Tooru hangs turquoise next to your pink one, and then asks: 

“Whaddya need two wishes for anyways?” 

He shrugs. 

“Guilty conscience, maybe?”

You’re thirteen when Tooru promises that he is going to ask you out in two years. Tooru is not allowed to date until he’s in high school, so he tells you under a blanket of stars that when the two of you are a little older, he will ask you out properly and maybe take you on a date. 

He walks you to school every morning. Hajime comes too, but the pink skies before the sun rises are for you and Tooru. Moments before you make it to Iwaizumi’s block are moments that Tooru gives you his scarf, and then his gloves, and when the wind bites at your cheeks too hard his jacket is draped over your shoulders. On rainy days, Tooru holds the umbrella and laughs as your fingers brush and your cheeks flush. Some mornings he brings you toast: and tells you in hushed whispers to eat it before Iwa-Chan sees. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi walk you home after cram school and volleyball practice. Hajime’s house is first— so Iwaizumi bows first, heads back inside first, waves goodnight first. When the door closes and the light turns on, the black sky and twinkling stars are for you and Tooru. He always says Good Night saccharine sweet with a smile like the sun that makes you feel like you really can’t wait to turn fifteen. 

Oikawa blows out fourteen candles. The three of you graduate in blue and walk home like usual. Summer passes, another July goes by, Oikawa blows out fifteen candles, and high school starts.

You learn several things in your first year at high school: you really like the student council, Hajime is actually pretty smart, and Tooru is afraid of commitment. 

Tooru is popular: he is athletic and tall and the Volleyball Club’s golden first year. He smiles at the girls in his class, he slings arms around their shoulders, he winks when he passes by the student council room, and he preens a little and shines a lot.

Oikawa is fifteen when he goes on his first date with a girl from another school: and when he tells you and Iwaizumi after he gets home, he plays dumb as Hajime gives him a look and takes you home, overhearing Iwaizumi’s apologies and your crestfallen voice as you say something about a promise.

Oikawa’s chest hurts that night so he walks to the shrine with 200 yen in his pocket and a sorry scrawled on two pieces of colored Tanzaku. 

Oikawa turns sixteen and goes to the shrine again. 

This time, it’s a broken promise with a girl in his class. She was popular– she smelled like cotton candy and reminded Tooru of strawberries and daisies, so when she asked Tooru out, he had said Sure, and he had smiled like she was the sun. 

But he’s a bad boyfriend– a terrible boyfriend– because he’s only there when it’s convenient and he ditches her for volleyball practice and maybe sometimes he catches himself thinking about a certain childhood friend when she holds his hand and buys him milk bread at lunch. 

She was sweet and she was terribly pretty, but he doesn’t feel anything when she kisses him or when she rests her head on his shoulder.

Iwaizumi asks him what he’s running from after practice one day. Tooru knows Iwaizumi is asking why he is running from you. 

Tooru is a little scared of how you make him feel too much. Oikawa likes being in control and Oikawa likes stability, so when he realizes that his heart thumps erratically whenever you’re around and he finds himself all consumed with thoughts of you and a burning desire to please you; he rejects and refrains. And runs.

His girlfriend dumps him after a few months. Tooru says sorry, removes her phone contact, and faintly remembers a promise he made with her four weeks ago. 

I swear I’m not in love with someone else. 

from: tooru (23:20) shrine time!!! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

from: hajime (23:21) You broke another promise?? Ur a piece of shit lol

from: tooru (23:22) iwaaa chan U￣ｰ￣U  ur so mean !

from: you (23:24) bro . don’t tell me it was about ur ex ur a manwhore !!!!

from: hajime (23:25) Average Shittykawa moment

from: tooru (23:25) i can’t help it !! (✿ ♥‿♥)  everyone wants a piece of me !!! ill pick u guys up and we’ll go to the shrine and ramen after plsss ☆

from: hajime (23:26) Ur treat?

from: tooru (23:27) iwa-chan’s treat !! i’m going through a nasty breakup, remember ? \_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

from: you (23:29) hajime we know his address we can burn his room down

from: tooru (23:30) OK FINE my treat! it’s on me!!! everyone say thank you tooru !!!

from: hajime (23:31) thank you tooooruuu chan (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

tooru and y/n reacted with: Scared !

from: tooru (23:32) um please don’t do that ever again

Oikawa’s fourth promise is one to himself and one to Seijoh. 

We will make it to Nationals. 

He doesn’t leave his room for a week when he breaks it. He’s inconsolable. He says he’s sick: he’s got a bad fever, it’s contagious, he’s bedridden, he’s fine. But the lights are never on in his room, his curtains are always drawn, and you know that Tooru devoted everything for a chance and a dream and a volleyball. 

He comes to you first. He’s standing in your doorway and there are bags under his eyes and he says, Hi, and then, I’m fine. He tries for a smile— and then you give him a look, and suddenly he’s in your arms and sobbing. 

He cries for two hours. Tooru ugly cries– his chest racks when he sobs and his arms are tight around you and digging into your back. Oikawa Tooru is not weak: but he is not a prodigy.  

He falls asleep in your bed with his head in your lap and your hands in his hair, but his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s shifting a lot and he’s probably having a nightmare. You call Hajime before gently shaking Tooru awake. 

He blinks up at you— all puffy eyes and tousled hair and swollen cheeks, but he sees you and he softens.

“Wanna go to the shrine?”

Iwaizumi still grumbles the whole way up the thirty five steps, but he’s quiet as Oikawa slips two coins into the saizen-bako. Hajime wraps an arm around your shoulder as the coins rattle in the box and you know he’s upset too— his hands are slightly shaking and he keeps sniffing. Nationals might have been Oikawa’s dream but Iwaizumi was also a dreamer, and sure, Oikawa was going to go, but they were going to go together.

Tooru hangs two Ema boards and for the first time, he bows at the Honden. Two claps. Head down and hands together as he prays. Iwaizumi joins him: and you watch as Oikawa apologizes to him and Hajime shakes his head- because it was Hajime’s promise too. 

Oikawa is twenty-eight and on a plane when he finally keeps his first promise. 

It’s a small promise: but a promise nonetheless, one that he made before he left for Argentina. He tells you he loves you at the airport but he has his boarding pass in one hand and his passport in the other. And you tell him you love him too, but also that he’s being unfair, and no you won’t go out with him. And Oikawa knew you would say that, but he still finds himself making a promise– a promise you laugh at because Oikawa Tooru never keeps his promises.

If we’re still single in ten years, I’m going to find you, and I’m going to ask you out. 

You cry, and Tooru wraps his arms around you and cries too— and then Iwaizumi’s there, and Iwaizumi’s crying, and you don’t know which part of you is Oikawa or Iwaizumi. Oikawa leaves for Argentina with a heavy heart but a hunger for the future. 

In the ten years that pass he plays a lot of volleyball. He tans a lot. He learns some Spanish. He tries beach volleyball. And then, he buys a plane ticket on his birthday. 

from: y/n (21:12) happy birthday tooru !! me n hajime r having an honorary drink for u. hope ur having fun in argentina!!! hajime and i say te amo !!!!

from: tooru (21:15) i’d like a hot sake plssss thank u!!! ( ˙▿˙ )

from: y/n (21:15) LMFAO. no. me and haji r drinking ASAHI DRRRRRRYYYYYYYY for u bro also hajime got BUFF wat the hell hope ur tanning good in argentina 

from: tooru (21:16) well tell BUFF iwa chan that ill be there in 5 and i want a HOT SAKE and also YES i tanned good SO EYES OFF IWAIZUMI

from: y/n (21:17) ? what? ur funny lol … TOORU?

Tooru is twenty eight and might retire soon. Thirty five stairs is too many to climb and keeping promises is far more fun than breaking them. So he taps your shoulder, hands Iwaizumi your bouquet, and takes your cheeks in his palms to tilt your chin over. 

“Hi!” He says. 

 Tooru bends down to kiss you. 

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙥𝙩2 ✿

characters: penacony men x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, slight angst, poor attempt at comedy, slight spoilers for some character story and 2.2 penacony quest, injury and blood mention

notes: another popular demand! this time with more cat bois!!! part 1 can be found here! tho this can be read as its own part too. genshin boys ver is here!

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

you just can’t keep yourself away from taking in random strays that are an absolute shit to you huh, [name]?

his breed? orange. that’s it, that’s the breed, what more do you want me to say? jk but he’s still orange. american shorthair orange me thinks. friendly, adaptable, easygoing, playful, good with children and other pets — a perfect american shorthair orange

you first found the poor thing at the streets, hiding under a vehicle, too scared to come out or any approaching humans. sweet cat had a broken limb, holding the dangling paw to his chest as he pathetically meowed

thankfully, you managed to scoop the orange cat up into your arms, wrapped up in your coat before rushing him to the nearest vet

since then, nyanturine has made his progress to be your next addition to an ever growing collection of cats

a strangely crow like cat. nyanturine likes shiny, expensive things. shiny rocks? his. shiny clothes? his. material that glitters? his. expensive earrings and diamonds? his. expensive jewelries? his. everything shiny and expensive that the orange cat lays his eyes upon is his now. pretty please, [name] buy him that earring for him to play with?

out of every cats at home — you sure your home isn’t a daycare for cats? — nyanturine gets along the most with dr.nyatio and occasionally with nyelt. the orange and brown cats can be found chatting away, peacefully settled on the windowsill

not so surprisingly, nyanturine is chatty as every orange cats are, except he needs to get used to the human first before turning into a yapper. with you, it only took a week spent in your arms for nyanturine to get used to your presence

just sit him beside you on the table behind his own mini computer with one of his favorite shiny earrings laid before him while you do your work on your own computer and nyanturine will be chatting your ear off in a storm. though, his yapping sometimes tends to irritate the other cats. dr.nyatio being one of them as you watched the bigger cat jump into the table before smacking nyanturine over the head with his paw

you were pretty sure you witnessed an attempted homicide between cats that day…

surprisingly, nyanturine also likes games! card games, poker, monopoly, uno. don’t ask how but somehow you once got bested by your damn cat when nyanturine placed down +10 on you at uno. you nearly ended up behind bars if it weren’t for meow yuan’s big floofy body holding you down—

he will push all of the tokens in front of him towards the table with a meow. sometimes, you swear you can hear “all in!” in his meows but maybe that’s the ghosts in your home talking

out of every cats you housed and still do till this day, nyanturine has the most unique eyes. cyan blue on the inside fading out into a pinkish hue. when asking about it from the vets, all they could do was shrug and say it could perhaps be a very unique ocular albinism or dna mutation. either way, your cats are a fucking model

nyanturine loves the mini fedora hat you made for him as a joke. wears it nearly everyday, every time, anywhere unless he accidentally knocks it over when zooming around the house

a solid kitty if you can get behind the creepy gloving of his eyes in the dark and his tendency to win against you in every poker games

art credit goes to nasuka_gee on twt!

you first found dr.nyatio by… huh? whatchu mean you didn’t found him? you’re telling me he just waltzed his ass inside your home one day through the window and has been making himself one of the many feline bosses of the house just like that? you sure dr.nyatio isn’t anyone else’s cat? [name]? [name], answer me…

well… whatever floats your boat i guess…

the most sassiest out of all of the fucking cats and that is saying something because you literally have nyan heng and meow yuan

a bengal, me thinks. snow lynx type of marbled tan and brown bengal. a smart piece of shit and he knows it, always yapping your ears off about a certain topic. more specifically, anything to do with algorithm, geometry etc etc

but compared to nyanturine and meowhill, dr.nyatio only ever yaps about those topics and those topics only. oddly enough, he kind of reminds you of one of those annoying lecturers at your old university…

very very curious cat. what’s up there? why are you late? what did you bring? what’s inside your bag? why do you smell so different?

pause.

why do you smell so different, [name]? where have you been? who have you been with? why are you later than usual, [name]? [name] answer him. answer dr.nyatio right now before he loses his shit—

oddly likes bathing time compared to the other cats. though, dr.nyatio is a diva when it cones to taking his baths. the water must be lukewarm, not too full so when he sits in the bathtub, the water will be around his low chest area. the bath must have bubbles and those cute yellow ducks floating around or he will not step inside the bathroom

do you think of him as a low class cat? how dare you, [name]

yeah… safe to say that dr.nyatio spends more money on shampoo, hair treatment than you do

gets along with every cats actually. other than nyanturine. the two tend to scuffle sometimes. and sometimes, you can find dr.nyatio just yapping away to the other cats while he points at… an encyclopedia? since when and where did he drag that out from?

dr.nyatio has an odd hyper fixation and obsession with ancient greek things. anything related to them and the cat is not leaving the site or the front of the screen, patiently watching and listening to the documentary about ancient greek and its architectures and impact in the field of mathematics

once, you decided to bring him along to your local clay making club for shits and giggles, making a mini ionic order pillars and he fucking loved it. loves to sit in the middle of the curved placed pillars and have his pictures taken like a model

dr.nyatio also loves the cute cat helmet like thing you made for him from plastic diy materials. it works as something akin to a mask for him and the bengal loves wearing it whenever you have to step outside with him

once, one of your friends who came over at your home asked you why you named dr.nyatio that way

“is he a doctor or something? what field is his research then?” they asked, unknowingly opening a jar of worms upon themselves. you simply opened up dr.nyatio’s favorite encyclopedia in front of your friend as the bengal cat takes his place, starting to yap up a storm as the cat points to random parts of the book

after a good hour or two, your friend turned to you for help, quietly coming to regret their decision. dr.nyatio didn’t take that kindly, smacking your friend’s face back to focus on him with his soft paw before continuing

yep. doctor veritas nyatio, everyone

“meaw! [name], mrrp ammmeow mrrep mrrya! you will refer to me as doctor and doctor alone!”

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

a very demanding grey korat breed of cat, mr.meowday is

he isn’t much talkative nor is he much affectionate. but what meowday is, demanding and loves control. you once asked your local vet for advice after months of the grey korat telling you exactly how to make his food, which kibbles to buy etc etc and the vet simply reassured you with a “korat breed of cats tend to be a bit demanding and intelligent. they love to be in charge so don’t worry” and a pat on the back

yeah… you have yourself another demanding cat that loves to make you his human slave alongside dr.nyatio. don’t you think you have enough cats reigning over you in your own home now, [name]?

you adopted the poor thing from a shelter near your workplace when you heard the poor thing constantly crying out. when asking the shelter workers, they said that the cat tends to do that at random hours of the day, just calling out for attention from someone or a certain something

taking pity on the poor lonely korat sitting in the corner of his cage with his back to the world, you decided to adopt him, making yet another dumb decision

really loves sundays for that is one of the days that you have time to spend the whole day at home with the cats. and you also love to dub the last day of the week as ‘lazy day’ and therefore, you decided to name him after it. meowday, he was since then

still, even after months of living with you and the other cats, meowday still sits on the window sling, meowing out for someone or something as he wistfully stares out the window. poor cat… you’re still having some problem trying to understand what was the problem and why meowday would do that so you can at least comfort the poor thing

one day while you were showing your co-workers who loves cats as well of your cats and landed on meowday. seeing the grey, elegant korat, your co-worker asked over and over if that really was your cat

you nodded with a furrowed brows, finding it odd that your co-worker would ask such questions. until they whipped out their phone, scrolling through their gallery before showing you… an eerily similar korat

same shade of eyes, same pose, same elegant manner — you would nearly mistake it for your own cat if it weren’t for the slight shade of white grey of your co-worker’s cat fur

a korat as well. from the same animal shelter you adopted meowday too!

after careful consideration and a lot of talk, you two decided to let the two felines meet on the weekends to see if they are perhaps lost siblings, parents or anything along the lines

finally, the day arrives and your co-worker comes over. a carrying bag slung over their shoulder as they step inside. meowday could barely care for your human companion coming over, it happens all the time and he had grown used to the presence of visitors unlike some of the other cats

until he hears a soft meow that sounded eerily similar to his sister. whipping his head around, meowday nearly broke his paws due to his sudden rough landing from the window sling, practically zooming over before tackling the smaller korat to the floor

sad yet happy meows coming from meowday, grooming the other cats’ face with loud constant meows. you were pretty sure that your co-worker’s cat was meowday’s sibling now

ever since then, the grey korat constantly scratches at your feet, doing his utmost best to silently ask you to let him see his sister again, nearly everyday. please just allow him to see his sister, he had dearly missed her. please, he will be a good kitty! the best kitty in the house!

meowday could barely go a day without glooming if he doesn’t see his sister, and so you and your co-worker arranged a weekly meetings and a video call everyday to allow the siblings to meow to each other through the screen

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

is it a mini panther? is it a dog? no! it’s just your one of the most chillest cats, gallagnya

he’s a havana brown like nyelt— wait a minute, what do you mean he wasn’t a havan brown like nyelt? you sure you got it correctly? the fur sample? huh…?

“gallagnya is actually a bombay cat. brown bombay” you can hear the vet on the phone, your face immediately going pale at the news of what breed gallagnya truly has been all this time as the said cat stares at you with a “mhm. that’s right” face from the kitchen counter

why? what was the reason you were suddenly going pale you ask? you were so sure that gallagnya was another havana brown like nyelt and has been feeding him nyelt’s kibbles for havana brown. in simpler terms, you’ve been feeding gallagnya the wrong kibbles

very wrong kibbles

but don’t worry, gallagnya is a chill cat and he immediately forgave you with a lick to your forehead the next day you came home crying with a bunch of treats and the correct kibbles for the shaggy, brown cat

gallagnya isn’t exactly a mean cat but he enjoyed the look of jealousy and anger on the other cats’ face as you pampered him day in and out for giving him the wrong kibbles. the bombay cat secretly hoped that you spent a little bit longer without knowing his exact breed so you could pamper him more. eh, oh well

the main reason your vet had a hard time finding out exactly what breed he was is because bombay cats aren’t the most easiest to spot or find out. it’s a bit hard to detect them and their breed since they are a human bred cat breed

but at least you have another big cat! third biggest cat after lion like meow yuan and cheetah like nyepard. safe to say you feel safe as hell whenever you go out for a quick walk with your three big cats

another funny thing about the story between you and gallagnya is that… you genuinely don’t know where the fuck the large cat came from. did he follow you home? did he slip in through the open window one day and made himself home? who knows. not you

at least gallagnya is chill. and nice. gets along well with basically every cat except for mr.meowday— “WOOF!”

“eh, it’s probably just the neighbor’s dog going out for a walk in the hallways of the apartment—“

“WOOF!” before you could finish your little excuse for the barking you just heard, you feel the heavy big body of gallagnya pounce on top of you on the bed, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs

… great. not only do you have hundreds of cats inside your home, three of them being nearly as big as predator wildlife animals, you have to worry about the third biggest cat being a barker rather than a meower

when and where the fuck did gallagnya even learned to bark rather than meow anyways? eh, that’s a question for you to find out next morning. right now, you were too damn tired and your bed was a siren that you willingly gave yourself to

you did not found out the answer to that question the next morning. even the vets were weirded out by it since, although bombay cats are indeed seen as dog-like with their playful and friendly nature, they never cane across one that literally barked like a dog

well… at least you can scare people away with gallagnya’s barks…?

art credit goes to Hanres4 on twt!

the siamese mom in me wants to say that meowhill would be a siamese, but the logical brain in me is shouting TUXEDO CAT

and yes, meowhill is indeed a tuxedo cat. one that just won’t shut up and leave you alone

going to the bathroom? let him come along and get real political while lying on the bathroom rugs while you take a shit

leaving for the convenience store? just let him stay on your shoulder while he yaps your ears off about which seasoning to pick— no, screwubaBOO THE KOREAN SOY SAUCE TASTES BETTER ON BARBECUE!

staying home and trying to type up your work on the computer? you have a free proofreader for you who wouldn’t hesitate to meow your ears off and point at some of the things you wrote. he will even sit on your keyboard

due to his yapper nature, meowhill tends to irritate some of the cats. especially those who love their peace and quiet and staying silent

which is a huge surprise whenever you find the mischievous tuxedo cat constantly beside nyan heng, the poor black manx looking dreadful as he allows meowhill to yap his ears off. you did not wanted to get entangled nor did you go over and wanted to hear what meowhill was yapping about

meowhill also gets along with nyagenti! the two cats seem to share a past together as when you first brought meowhill home, the tuxedo cat went straight first to the elegant norweigan forest cat

ah right, speaking of bringing meowhill in…

you found the poor thing with a rotted paws and bad burn wounds. poor little thing was burnt so badly it was hard to tell the color of his fur and he kept yowling in pain when you wrapped your coat around him to rush him to the nearest vet

sadly, his front two legs were badly broken and injured and had no way of recovering. and so, the vets had no other choice but to put him under anesthetic to cut off his front two legs and replace them with prosthetics

due to the nature of his injuries, meowhill required a lot of your and the other cats’ attention. recovering from losing both of his front legs and the nasty burn wounds is a long journey and meowhill needed the support from his new human friend and fellow felines

after a long and sometimes painful 2 months, meowhill had made a full recovery! the tuxedo cat’s fur grew back and he had gotten used to walking and sprinting on his prosthetic legs. you never realized how much of an energetic cat he was until you broke the news that he made a full recovery

though, like meowday, meowhill has a slight problem of constantly sitting on the window sling and meowing out the window. why? you didn’t know

is very protective of little nyanqing. you can find the tuxedo constantly nagging meow yuan and stealing meow yuan’s little cub away from him. holding the tiny munchkin by his scruff and taking him away to dote on the little cream cat somewhere in the house

it wasn’t until you took the tuxedo cat out for a shopping in the pet essentials store as a congratulations for making full recovery and the tuxedo immediately latched onto a tiny, white kitten plush did you connect the dots

poor thing had a kitten before…

you bought the white kitten plush for him of course. you don’t have the heart to wrench it away from him

making a trip back to where you originally found meowhill, you couldn’t find anything much other than an old, burnt, red scarf. you made an exact same replica of the mini scarf in secret and gave it to meowhill for his birthday gift, wrapping the soft silk around his neck snuggly before wrapping the same scarf around the plushie

ever since then, meowhill has been deathly clingy with you and the plushie. there isn’t a single day or night where you won’t see meowhill without the white plushie, grooming it, cuddling with it and taking it with him by the scruff of the kitten plushie

art credit goes to helen_zzhao on ig!

an elegant norweigan forest cat! is his fur, brown? burgundy? red? no one knows!

nyagenti is such a beautiful cat that he competes with meow yuan in their beauty level whenever you take them out on a walk. everyone wants to pet the elegant kitties and it doesn’t help that meow yuan and nyagenti are both such gentle kitties

gets along with every cats! anyone! your friends that came over for a game night, the sitters when you need to be away for a few days of business trip, the neighbors — everyone! nyagenti has no enemies

out of everyone, nyagenti gets along best with nyelt, nyan heng and meowhill. meowhill and nyagenti used to share a past it seemed as the two cats hit it off right away while the norweigan forest cat got used to the presence of nyan heng and nyelt very quickly

tends to yap sometimes — more like pray to someone or something — but isn’t as bad as meowhill or nyaturine

doesn’t really mind bath times but he prefers grooming more than bath times. he has a beautiful long fur and they’re very dense and thick so it takes the whole day for him to finally become dry so, please let’s just settle on grooming? he can bring over the brushes for you!

a very big gift giver! shiny jewels, pretty leaves that just fell, nice shaped rocks, cockroaches— nope. nuh-uh. you are NOT getting cockroaches as a gift even though the thought is swee— OH MY GOD HE DROPPED THE COCKROACH ON YOUR BED!!!1!1!

yeah… your friend looks at you as if you’ve finally lost your mind when they came over one day and saw hundreds of rat poisons, bug and insect killing sprays just racked on your shelf like you’re gonna sell them. in return you simply deadpanned back and pointed at nyagenti who already had another cockroach in his mouth

how did you ended up having nyagenti? who knows. at this point you gave up on trying to keep track of how, when, where you got your cats from. he probably just made himself known in your house one day and you simply accepted the sign from cat distribution system no.195826592649

such a gentlemanly cat. you joke that he can kiss the back of your hand to the guests and guess what? one day, nyagenti actually did do that. the look on the guest’s face will forever live rent free in your mind

really likes red roses for some reason. thankfully, roses aren’t toxic to cats unlike some other flowers such as lily, daffodil, hyacinths but nyagenti’s love for red roses nearly borderlines on obsession in a sense

when asking the vet if there could be any reason or explanation for this, they simply patted your back, told you that you had a tendency to attract weird cats and shooed you out. not fully, but they lowkey did that and said “roses have a nice scent that tends to attract cats or dogs. they might end up taking a bite from the flower but it isn’t poisonous or toxic, so no need to worry”

still, you’re getting tired of constantly living with red rose petals thrown everywhere in your house. so much so you have gotten used to it and just decided to leave it be. if your friend comes over and sees the rose petals as something romantical, you simply shove nyagenti into their faces

unlike the other cats, nyagenti isn’t the most clingy or affectionate cat. though, that isn’t to say he is cold and distant, he does love you! but he just shows it in small ways and in quiet manners

bringing over his brush for you to help him groom his beautiful thick fur, waking you up gently in the morning with soft meows and gentle licks, even knowing to turn on the AC on a warm temperature after your shower because you always come out shivering

and he is definitely the one who leaves the fresh red roses on your bedside nightstand every morning you wake up

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Love is a Many-Legged Thing

Yandere Squid Merman x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, tentacle noncon, light tentacle bondage, stalking, kidnapping, squid-based merman, big slimy prehensile merman dick, reader fucked senseless, merman fantasizes about receiving oral sex, general yandere behavior, delusional yandere, voyeurism, exhibitionism Word Count: 2k (Happy MerMay!!!! I really hope you all love the fic, would have been done weeks ago had the ac not died. But still 40min left of MerMay! I wrote this fast without a beta reader so please forgive any mistakes! The name Onyk is a reference to Onykia Ingens, a deap sea squid with an astoundingly long dick.)

Seaspark Aquarium was a very unique establishment. Not only did it contain the usual attractions that an aquarium housed, the tide pools, the sharks, a seemingly unending variety of colorful fish and corals and nudibranchs, but it also housed transient merfolk. The aquarium was situated on a flat outcrop of rocky land. Via submerged tubes it granted access to a huge tank to the ocean and merfolk below.

The tank was absolutely massive and had many different areas including a reef, a seaweed forest, a beach, and even a secluded sea cave. There were underwater cameras in most of the areas that live streamed what was happening on screens for the humans. Though the sea cave feed was restricted to adults only since the merfolk sometimes mated there.

The aquarium was just as much an exhibit for the merpeople as it was for the humans, they had underwater screens that allowed them to view the humans at play and at the food court. They enjoyed seeing and even communicating with their terrestrial cousins. There were several areas where humans and merpeople could talk face to face or via the cameras. Many of them visited quite frequently and made friendships with regular customers and their favorite staff members.

You had been blessed with landing a really good job at Seaspark Aquarium. Though it was entirely because you were the cousin of the curator of the establishment. You did janitorial tasks, including sometimes scraping the tanks, and occasionally you had to provide food for an exhibit. Even though interacting with animals or merfolk was not a common part of your job, there was one squid-man who had become quite friendly with you. Onyk.

Most of the squid type mermen shied away from human interaction, and really the aquarium as a whole, but not Onyk. He had always been a frequent visitor. A knowledgeable observer might even say it seemed that he had been hoping to find something there. The first few times he had gone had been out of pure curiosity about humans after hearing tales about them his entire life. But after his first couple of visits he was enthralled. Everything about the land walkers amazed him.

And then he met you and felt his heart flutter every single time he looked upon you. He frequently tried to engage you in conversation whenever he could and was always watching you, though often it was in secret. Onyk cherished your chats with him, he found you so interesting, even more so than he found other humans. He loved seeing you go about your tasks, it made him think of you cleaning his home as his mate while he went and got food for the two of you.

Of course if you had any say, that would never happen. Onyk, for some reason you couldn't quite place, creeped you out. No, it wasn't the head of tentacles he had in place of hair, nor the dark purple tentacles he had from the waist down, it wasn't his smile that showed off his dangerously sharp teeth, or his cyan blue eyes. No, it wasn't anything physical, just a weird energy he seemed to give off. Like a hungry animal hunting its prey.

You tried to be nice to Onyk, though you always tried to keep conversations brief and hurry on to other tasks that would take you out of his reach. Unfortunately he took your awkward stammers and clumsy rushing to zip away from him as you being extremely shy because you liked him. He sighed and stared at you longingly, head resting on his hands, as you rushed off once more. Clearly you were simply too embarrassed by your emotions to act rationally around him. Onyk had to find a way to get you to stop running off. As adorable as it was that you kept scampering off from your shyness you really needed to be closer to him.

Onyk had a brilliant, though simple, idea. It came to him right as you were in the middle of making another excuse to run away from him while the two of you were chatting in the beach area. He'd simply grab you. It wasn't the first thing he'd normally do, but you were just too prone to running off. It was more than obvious you needed him to make a firm and forceful first move.

"Well uh... it was nice seeing you again Onyk... but um... I gotta go check on the tide p-"

Onyk lunged at you suddenly with the speed and ferocity of lightning. He pulled you into the water and swiftly took you into the empty sea cave and sat you on the dry ground within. Yes, this would do perfectly for his purposes. It was a huge room that had an area for him to swim and enough space for you to run about and get exercise. This would make a lovely home for the two of you, he'd have to keep all the other merfolk out from now on but that wasn't an issue, they were respectful of claimed territory.

Once you caught your breath you were confused and angry at the sudden relocation.

"What the f-"

He interrupted you again, this time by pressing his hungry lips to yours in a passionate embrace. His long tongue slipped past your unsuspecting lips and explored every inch that it could reach. His saliva pooled in your mouth, claiming it. The offending muscle snaked down your throat before finally retreating as he broke the kiss, you struggled to find your breath once more.

"Heh, sorry for interrupting, I have just been waiting to kiss you for so long I couldn't hold back any longer!"

“What!? Why did you do that? Why did you bring me here!?”

“Well your shyness was making it hard for us to take things to the next step in our relationship, now you can’t let your nervousness get the better of you and make you run off!”

“Next step in our relationship? We have no relationship, you creep!”

“Don’t say that! Y-you just have the jitters because moving in is such a big step! Yeah, they’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”

“There won’t be a soon, I am going back to the beach!”

You started to head back to the water, but Onyk closed the distance between the two of you easily.

“But you can’t go! You’re just in denial and nervous, but you’ll love living with me, I promise. M-maybe I’m not moving too fast but too slow. That must be it, you must be all pent up and eager for my dick! So naughty~”

Onyk’s blush was evident even on his light blue skin. He swallowed your complaints in another deep kiss as he stood behind you and rubbed your crotch gently.

“We’ll do it in front of these cameras so everyone knows you’re mine now~”

And, indeed, the screens in the adults only section of the aquarium definitely picked up some viewers as the scene between you and Onyk unfolded.

Most mermen would have had trouble traversing land, but Onyk’s strong tentacles allowed him to maneuver easily enough. He peeled off your wet clothing and wrapped his arms tightly around your bare chest, rubbing and caressing you with greedy hands. His prehensile cock wrapped partially around your waist, held you close as it rubbed against you. At first you mistook the sensation for a tentacle before looking down and seeing it, the cock was tapered, icy blue and glowing at the tip, with the rest of it being dark purple.

Your shouts and screams were ignored as Onyk convinced himself they were just you being grumpy or maybe playing hard to get. The merman’s sharp teeth bit carefully at your tender neck as you squirmed. Most of his tentacles had wrapped around your legs, powerful suction cups firmly adhered them to you. They held you staunchly in place despite your best efforts to struggle.

The remaining two writhing appendages were busy with another task. They gently prodded and massaged your tight hole, slowly worming their way inside you. Your efforts to clench and keep them outside of you were rendered futile as they finally worked their way inside of you. They began thrusting in tandem back and forth within you, loosening you up well.

Your next attempt at protesting devolves into several lusty moans as he ministrations begin to elicit pleasure. It’s all the confirmation he needs that he has been right all along and definitely went about everything in the right way.

“Your mating sounds are so lovely,” he said as he nipped at your ear.

His tentacles suddenly withdrew from your lovingly stretched hole, leaving you involuntarily whimpering at the sudden removal.

“Awe, don’t worry, love. I have something far better to put into you~”

You snap out of it when you hear those words and feel his cock move itself from your waist and start wiggling against you in search of its target.

“What!? No, please do-oooh~ Aaah!”

When it found your entrance it deftly slithered right in. Much to your unwilling pleasure.

Onyk chuckled.

“I knew you just needed some good dick~ You feel soooo good. You were made for this!”

When you happened to look up at one of the cameras you blushed and looked down. The room that monitored the sea cave was now packed, everyone enjoying the sight. The aquarium was already at work recording with plans to put it on their website for sale.

You couldn’t help the lewd cacophony of noises that tumbled from your mouth as the thick slimy cock thrust back and forth inside of you.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you!” Onyk chanted louder and louder until he slammed into you hard, filling you up with warm viscous semen at the same moment that you were shuddering from the strongest orgasm that you had ever experienced.

You were far too dazed and overstimulated to realize what was going on in that moment or what you were saying, but on autopilot you mumbled back what your brain thought it was supposed to when someone told you that they loved you.

“I l-love you too…”

Onyk was overjoyed to hear those words from his beloved human. He pulled out of you and laid down on the floor of the cave, pulling you close to him and resting your head on his chest. His webbed fingers gently caressed you as did both the tentacles that made up his "hair" and the ones below his waist. Cum slowly ebbed out of you and onto him but he didn't mind, the two of you would just get messy again the second you came to your senses. He nuzzled into your hair and gave you dozens of little kisses. Your mind was too blank and your body too exhausted to do anything but drool a bit on his chest while he cuddled you.

His head was swimming with all of the things the two of you would do together. Sharing meals, chatting, mating. He couldn’t wait to wrap his cock gently around your neck while at the same time plunging it down your throat and having that pretty mouth of yours suck it until he was feeding you his cum. Maybe the two of you could try it when you woke up.

Meanwhile onlookers on the viewing screens were putting away their cocks and slipping their fingers out of their pussies with the spectacle now over, but word soon spread and tourism was up over 300 percent! Scientists the world over were interested in documenting this rare species of merman having sexual relations with a human. Grants were given. A great raise and credit to your cousin, the curator.

It was even considered a diplomatic victory for merfolk and humans!

Everyone came to the consensus that on all fronts, but yours, it was far too beneficial and lucrative to make sure you had to permanently stay in the sea cave for the rest of your life with Onyk. At the very least they equipped the habitat with amenities like a proper bathroom, tv, video games, and human food. The sea cave area was also expanded, and you were afforded some privacy, except for most of the times that your “husband” Onyk was spilling his seed into you. That’s what people wanted to see.

[hargreeves-duncan]

Hello!! Could you write a Diego x reader fic that’s a little sweet and a little smutty? Diego def had dom vibes but I’d love to see his squishy sweet side :) thank you!!

a/n: hi!! thank you for your request. we’re taking it back to s2 for this one because i’m still not over diego’s long hair… anyways! i hope you love it, this is my first time writing smut so please let me know if it is ass🙏

summary: you look so gorgeous in your dress. what kind of boyfriend would diego be if he didn’t show you how pretty he thought you looked?

warnings: this is SMUT so 17+ for this one, soft!dom!Diego, back-scratches, fingering, p in v, mentions of oral, swearing

word count: 2.3k

Today you had to attend a gala at the Mexican Consulate. Why? To find Reginald Hargreeves and finally get some answers. You had dressed in a deep cyan dress, made of a shiny material that pulled in at the waist and flew out to your thighs. Despite the tight fit, it was both surprisingly comforting and flattering. You stood in from of the bedroom mirror, painting your lips a perky pink - since the apocalypse you’d had little reason to dress up, so maybe you were taking advantage of it now.

A sly smile spread across Diego’s lips as he strolled over. He whistled, leaning against the doorframe, “Look at you…” He says, gaze trailing over your body appreciatively.

You laugh softly and as you get closer, he slips his hand around your waist, squeezing at the blue fabric gathered around your hip, “This is very pretty.” He coos, pecking your cheek.

He looked more than good himself, in a navy-blue suit and a tie that was practically begging you to tug on. The suit was just tight enough that you could see the indents of his muscular biceps. You bit your lip, smiling shyly, “Thank you.”

You leaned up to peck Diego’s lips and he grinned, pulling you closer. Five clapped his hands as he entered the room, stepping between you and putting an instantaneous end to whatever might’ve come from your mutual advances, “Alright… Let’s go, shall we?”

He prompted the two of you with a less-than-impressed smile. With a reluctant sigh, Diego squeezed your hip once more before he let you go. He punched Five in the gut as he walked past, muttering ‘cockblock’ under his breath.

You snorted as you stepped past Five, now doubled over. He grumbled under his breath, glaring at Diego and begrudgingly following after you both. You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction, as childish as it was. Five beckoned you both closer.

He sighed, brushing his sleeve away to read his watch, “Fantastic, we’re already late.” He held his hands out to both you and Diego, which you took, and then blinked the three of you inside of the building.

You wound up in a quieter corridor, somewhere upstairs, and Five shook out his shoulders, looking at both of you, “All we have to do is find Dad and get him to talk. Do you think that you two morons can manage that without screwing it up?”

He raised an eyebrow as he looked between the two of you. Diego pulled you closer, shaking his head as he smiled cockily, “We’re not morons, we know how to handle ourselves. So, just… relax for a second, alright?”

“Handling yourselves is not what I’m worried about.” Five sighs, features curling with distaste as he eyed Diego’s hand on your waist. Diego scoffed at his brother.

“Relax. We got this.” He grins and the mischievous glint in his eye only makes Five’s concerned frown deepen.

He shakes his head as he walks past both of you. “Jesus… You know what? Do what you want, just don’t get caught. There is more at stake here than the two of you.” He says, pointing at you.

With those parting words, Five disappears around the corner. Diego watches until he leaves and then he’s walking you backwards into the nearest room.

“Diego!” You laugh, pressing both hands against his chest in protest. He simply intertwines your fingers, grinning.

“What?” He teases, his voice mocking yours as he closes the door behind him with his foot. He spins you around and you come face to face with your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are already blown out with lust.

Diego slips his arms around your waist again, leaning down to peck your neck. “You look so beautiful.” He praises and you inhale sharply, hands sliding down your body to rest over the top of his.

He smirks against your neck as his lips travel down to your collarbone, which he nips. “Diego.” You say again, already feeling yourself grow breathless and recognising the growing heat in the pit of your stomach.

His grins like the devil as he watches your each and every reaction, “Oh, does that feels good?” He says, biting down on your neck again.

You shiver and bite your lip. You shouldn’t be doing this now, not here, there are more pressing matters at hand. Five had not so subtly reminded the two of you just moments ago but how were you supposed to say no to him when he was riled up like this?

“God, Diego, we shouldn’t…” You sigh blissfully, feeling your thighs clench as Diego presses up against you from behind.

“We’ll be quick, I promise.” He smiles, pecking your shoulder affectionately, “I just wanna show my girl some attention, that’s all.”

My girl. God, it should be crime for him to use those words with how easily it makes your resolve crumble. You groaned, shifting restlessly, “Babe…”

“What, baby? What do you expect me to do?” He croons, with mock sympathy. His hands slide over your body, up to your chest.

He rubs his fingers over you through the fabric of your dress as he mumbles into the crook of your neck, “How am I supposed to act when you’re standing here looking so good for me, hm?”

Your back arches up against him and he smiles, hands travelling down, over the expanse over your stomach and you watch in the reflection of the mirror in front of you as his hands disappear out of view. You feel them though.

He kneads your ass between his fingers and gently bites at your shoulder, “Come on, baby.”

Your will is broken and you sigh, one hand reaching out to tug at his tie. You pull him around by it so that he’s facing you. Despite the shock on his face, Diego is more than happy with this new development. You smirk and pull him down to kiss your lips.

He reciprocates it hungrily, his hands cupping your face, pulling you closer and closer. He hums happily against your lips, and your hands slip up into his long curls. You pull at the strands, releasing a guttural moan from Diego.

He pulls back and bites his lip, brushing your hair back from your face, “God, you’re so fucking pretty, you know that?”

He repeats for the hundredth time today, yet it doesn’t stop the warmth from blossoming in your cheeks or your lower belly, “Thank you.”Y ou say obediently.

And, just as he does every time, he reassures you with a kiss to your lips saying, “You don’t have to thank me for the truth, baby.”

With that, his hands slip around the backs of your thighs, propping you up onto the counter. He looks up at you like he’s entirely unworthy of you. Like he would worship you.

He bites his lip, muttering a pleased ‘fuck’ to himself as he goes in to kiss you again. You smile against his lips, arms going around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer.

His hands wander from your waist, around your back, to your dress’s zipper. He tugs it down, pulling away from your lips and slowly peppering kisses down your neck, all the way to the centre of your breasts.

He looks up and you, eyes hooded, and the sight is enough to make you moan. Your hand comes up to the back of his head then, encouraging him as his lips slide over your sensitive nipple. His tongue swirls around it, until he feels it grow hard. He sucks gently on it, and pulls away with a gentle pop.

Simultaneously, his free hand works to stimulate your other nipple, fingers rolling the bud between his fingers and massaging your breast. Your hips shift and he smiles, pecking your cheek, “So impatient.”

“No…” You reply, breathlessly, sitting up straighter, “Just time conscious.”

He laughs, hiking your dress up over your hips, “Oh? Is that what they’re calling it now?”

“It is, yeah.” You smile, cupping his face and gently pecking his lips. He rolls his eyes, smiling as his fingers toy with your waistband.

“Brat.” He taunts, tugging the slim string of your panties down, over the smooth fat of your thighs, and letting it fall to your ankles. You feel the air brush over your inner thighs and your sensitive bud, already slick with your wetness.

“Shit…” Diego says, growing breathless himself as he takes in the sight of your glistening pussy. He brushes his fingers over your folds for a moment, before slipping two of them inside of you.

He watches, entirely mesmerised by the motion of you taking his thick fingers. You huff, back arching and fingers curling as you fail to find something to keep you steady. He takes your hand, guiding it to his shoulder instead.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you furiously and you whine, clinging to his other forearm, “I know, baby girl, but I have to prep you first. Just come for me, come for me and then I’ll fill you up, I promise.”

He coos, slipping a third finger in, despite the resistance. You gasp, burying your face in the crook of his neck as your hips spasm, coating his fingers with your slick in record time, “Good girl.” He praises, pecking your cheek.

“You’re making me wish I had the time to taste you.” He huffs frustratedly, watching your hips buck as he removes his fingers from you, chasing the fullness he’d left you without.

“Yeah?” You ask breathlessly, tilting your head to the side.

“Yeah.” He smiled. He took his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean, and groaned. He kisses you again and tasting the remnants of yourself on his tongue only serves to make you want him more, “But… since I don’t…”

You watch eagerly as he pulls back slightly, his fingers unbuckling his belt with practised ease. And, God, your head feels so hazy right now, that even that is turning you on.

He smirks and kisses your lips as he strips down, letting you see all of him, “You’re so quiet tonight, baby.”

He gives his cock a few tugs and then he kisses your lips again. He smiles, “I want you to try and be louder for me. Want to hear those pretty moans of yours. Think you can do that for me?”

“Mm… yeah.” You nod.

He kisses you again, sliding his hand over your waist as he brings you closer, “Good.”

“Oh, fuck.” You gasp, hands grasping at his shoulders like a lifeline as he pressed his tip against your entrance, gently pushing in.

You felt yourself swallow him and you both let out a collective sigh, pressing your foreheads against one another. You didn’t think you would ever get over how good it felt to be so effortlessly full up by him.

“That’s it.” He cooed softly, rubbing your hip with his thumb as he pushed himself deeper, “Doing so good, baby, taking me so well…” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he bottomed out inside of you. You felt him twitch, and he groaned as he adjusted to the feeling of your perfect grip on him.

“Shit, baby…” He hissed through his teeth, beginning to move. The thump of the counter hitting the wall as he started to fuck you against it made you clench around him.

After letting you adjust to him, he started moving faster, causing your breath to hiccup slightly as you moaned, “Yeah? Is that good? Does that feel good?”

Your nails scraped over his back, trying to pull him ever closer. Your hands drove through his skin in time with his thrusts, leaving glaring red marks down his toned back. He groaned, biting his tongue. The sight of them only made your eyes roll back, as well as your head.

He caught his breath and chuckled, tongue in his cheek as he thrust harder, hands gripping at your love handles, “You like seeing the marks you’re leaving on me, baby?”

All you could do was nod as you looked up at him, hair tousled and lips puffy from your kiss. Your breath was made up of nothing but desperate, little whines as he pushed himself deeper.

He grinned slyly, tilting your head up and pressing his thumb to your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open, “Come on, I know you know the answer. Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you like leaving marks on me.”

“Mmph… I love it, love leaving marks on you.” You whine, head lolling back again.

“Yeah, I know you do.” He cups your face, keeping your head up and your eyes on him. He shifts his hips, his strokes delving deeper. Your eyes flutter shut and he practically growls at the sight of you - all pretty and fucked out, just for him. His girl.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You whine, writhing in his arms as you feel him bury his cock inside of you, deeper and deeper. His hand skims over your stomach and down to your clit, rubbing circles over it as he kisses along your neck.

“You close?” He asks, knowing the tell-tale signals of your body as you begin to clench around him. You nod, moaning and arching your back, grinding your hips down against him harder.

“Shit, yes…” You gasp, eyes fluttering shut as you roll your hips, desperately seeking release. Your hand clutches his bicep and you moan instinctively as your fingers struggle to wrap around it fully.

He grunts, trying desperately to keep his composure for a little bit longer, when you both know that he’s so fucking close to bursting. You moan, practically limp in his arms at these point as he fucks up into you, “Shit, yes, Diego, fuck…”

The only words out of your mouth at this point are incoherent babbling and Diego groans, pulling you back in for a messy kiss, “Fuck, come for me. Come for me, baby, I know you want to. Fucking come for me.”

And you do.

[llamagoddessofficial]

perhaps maybe some bad guy moth crumbs? Mayhaps? Maybe?

ok ok o kok ok jokojokjfokdsjfokjokJLFKDSLKFJDSKF i love you anon, good question. This also ties in very well to all the fae thoughts I've been having.

Horror has the wings of a great big ragged peacock moth. They're large, heavy, and thick with fur. They drag behind him like a cape when he walks. With the way the mass of fur around his neck clumps and curls, it gives him the appearance of a lumbering bear - if he can fly, he seems to prefer not to, instead stalking the ground and picking off anything that can't get away from him.

His wings are very matted, very dirty. They have been for a long time. He... he would really, really like it if you brushed him. He doesn't mind how long it takes. It's been so long since someone touched him with care. Just... please brush him.

Dust resembles a muslin moth. Smooth, silky, grey. Too smooth - too untouched. The air around him smells strange, when you touch him its hard to tell what's the usual fine powder moths shed and what's something else. The rest of Nightmare's men have cuts and scrapes and imperfections in their wings, tears from battles they lost. Dust has no such imperfections. Almost like... he just doesn't lose. In some lights, when he raises his wings to attack, it's like the edges glow red and cyan. He is not the creature he purports to be.

You're curious about his wings? Cute. Why don't you come closer, have a better look? Why don't you stand close enough for him to see your lovely face. Then you both get something you want.

Whatever Killer was before, it's hard to tell now. His wings have been stained completely black, the only colours are the vivid red of two perfect eyespots, one on either wing. There's probably another moth pattern under all that black. Who knows.

Moth monsters often tend to shed a kind of fine powder, but it's hardly visible and pretty easy to ignore. Killer? His powder is dark, like soot, it clings to anything he frequently touches. Everyone around you can tell that Killer likes you, because his affection comes with great big black marks across your clothes and body. It's his way of declaring ownership. If he thinks someone is getting too cosy he sneaks up on you and hugs you to stain you for the rest of the day.

The exterior of Nightmare's wings looks like a pipevine swallowtail, with a lovely black fading into an equally lovely dark blue. Regal and elegant enough already. He keeps them folded around himself, as a makeshift cloak, and frequently decorates them with silver chains and precious gems.

The interior of his wings sports large, cyan eyespots. If he wants to, he can open his wings and flare the eyespots, causing a sudden rush of uncontrollable terror in whoever witnesses it. It's his decision how the fear affects the victim. He might want to make someone so scared they blab the truth. He might want someone to flee his presence because he's sick of them.

... Or... he might want to stop someone he's interested in from leaving.

[jessamine-rose]

𓇢𓆸 Withering Purpurbloom ࿐

Read my Yandere! Capitano fics first ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა

Aahh hello, Capitano nation……how are all of you?? At first, I had no plans to write an angst fic about his “death” in 5.3, but I kept getting ideas for Damsel! Darling’s reaction </3

With that in mind, I figured I’d write just one story where his death is final. This is only an alternate timeline in the Herbarium series, and I hope you all cry enjoy this tragic ending to CapiDamsel’s dark fairytale .°(ಗдಗ。)°.

Tw:: YANDERE, Stockholm Syndrome, blood, offscreen death, implied self-harm, mention of abuse from darling’s backstory

Note:: Fem reader who is smaller and weaker than Capitano, takes place after 5.3 story

♡ 4.8k words under the cut ♡

On the day of your husband’s death, you were preserving flowers.

Just the common flora that grew around your home. It was a frigid day in Snezhnaya, and your morning stroll had been bountiful. As you pressed each flower between the pages of your notebook, you thought of the Captain miles away in Natlan.

His last letter was written before his battle with the Pyro Archon. The words of his past self had brought tears to your eyes, though you made no mention of that in your response.

How is he? What has happened in the days since he sent his letter? Has he read yours?

You added the last flower and closed your notebook.

All of the flowers were for him, to be enclosed in your next letter—assuming that his mission had to be extended. Your gift would make for a nice reminder of Snezhnaya.

Of you.

The flowers were still fresh on the night of the messenger’s arrival.

✿ ⚘

You don’t believe it.

This must be a joke. Another betrayal, even.

As usual, your guard speaks to him first. But when they come inside, the messenger’s hands are empty of letters and parcels. You are asked to take a seat on the sofa.

The messenger repeats what he told Cyane.

“The Captain has departed from this world.”

No.

You stare at him, eyes wide.

Despite his mask, his sorrow is evident. He doesn’t stop there, rambling about battles and souls and a god who presides over death.

Capitano…someone like him wouldn’t go down without a fight.

There is the sound of glass shattering—are the servants listening in? Cyane stands next to the messenger, a grim expression on their face.

He won’t stop talking.

Why is he saying that your husband sacrificed himself? That death is the end he had been trying to reach all along?

No, no, no. He wouldn’t do such a thing. Not when he has you. Not when he knows that you’re here, waiting for him to come home.

Your vision blurs.

The room closes in on you.

The messenger’s mouth is still moving, but you can no longer tell what he is saying. There is a different noise—your own voice?

But what makes you think you are more important?

“My lady!” Cyane rushes to your side but you slap their hand away.

Dizzily, you stand up. You rush past them, out of the living room, through the front door.

You have to leave.

How long has it been since your husband’s sacrifice?

Which direction is Natlan?

The sky is dark.

There are no flowers in sight.

But there are traces of the messenger’s footprints, leading the way out of the woods.

In your haste, you trip and fall into the snow.

Cold. It’s so cold.

Hands wrap around your upper arms. That is when you panic and struggle in the grasp of your unknown assailant, fear overriding all of your thoughts.

“Don’t touch me!”

“My lady?” It’s one of the Fatuus who guards the estate. Private Herkyna tries to help you up but you flinch nonetheless.

Cyane runs outside. “Unhand her! Lady ______ is not to be—have you forgotten the orders of the late Captain?!”

The late…why are they already calling him that?!

Private Herkyna lets go of you. Now she is bowing and apologizing profusely. You don’t see the messenger anywhere—is he still in your home?

Cyane walks over to you and crouches to your level.

“Lady ______, please.” The pity in their gaze is unbearable. “Come back inside.”

“N-No.” Your voice comes out in strained whispers. “You’re lying. Let me go. Let…”

Cyane holds out their hand but you turn away. The snow is numbingly cold yet you grip it with both hands, if only to ground yourself to something physical.

When you look up, the sky is empty of stars.

“Let me see my husband!”

This can’t be true.

Yes, that’s it. This must be a dream, just another nightmare crafted by your fears and memories. Soon enough, you’ll open your eyes and see the stars in your husband’s gaze. And when that happens, he will comfort you, pull you into the warmth of his embrace, tell you it was all a dream that will never come true.

✿ ⚘

Ideally, you’d be in Natlan by now.

But there is only so much authority you hold as the wife of the First Harbinger, so you are still awaiting approval. From who, you don’t know.

Until then, you refuse to believe in the rumors.

You have to see Capitano with your own eyes. Only then can you believe that he is truly gone.

In the meantime, you are incapable of waiting.

Time passes slowly in the manor. It has always felt too big, too quiet in Capitano’s absence. But back then, you could sustain yourself with the promise of his return.

Come to think of it, did he say anything about coming home?

He always made that promise, before his missions and in his letters, but on the day he left for Natlan…his last words to you were a prayer for your everlasting happiness.

It’s not just that. The servants have gone into mourning. They don’t know how to act around you, with their piteous gazes and fruitless attempts at comfort.

You don’t talk to any of them. You keep to yourself, drowning out their words, drifting from one room to another in a disoriented haze.

A family portrait hangs in the living room, depicting you and Capitano. He’d kept his mask on, of course, to conceal the abyssal rot consuming his body. As for you, your lacy gown made you look like the princesses in your storybooks.

His face is still vivid in your memories, along with his loving expressions. But when you stare at your husband’s painted imitation, all you can see is the black void of his mask.

✿ ⚘

Three days later, Cyane brings you to Capitano’s office.

“Cyane,” you whisper, “why are we here?”

They speak carefully. “When I was selected for this job, the Captain gave me access to special documents. I was told to only open them if we received news of his…absence.”

Absence. That is the word they use around you these days.

Well, they aren’t wrong. From what you heard, your husband is still in Natlan.

Cyane unlocks the door, stepping aside so you can enter.

The office is familiar. In the past, you avoided that room and only went there if Capitano called for you. But later on, you became a frequent visitor of your own volition.

The desk is empty. So is the chair behind it. On the days he worked from home, Capitano would be here, signing documents and speaking to subordinates. Whenever you visited, he’d adjust his sitting position so you could make yourself comfortable on his lap.

Cyane walks over to his desk and takes out a set of keys. They unlock the leftmost drawer.

Inside is a leather folder engraved with Capitano’s insignia and two names—yours and Sergeant C. Naiad. That, too, has to be unlocked.

It is filled with several documents written in familiar handwriting. A few words catch your eye, and that is all it takes for you to step back.

“What…what is this?”

“I opened it as soon as we received the news,” Cyane explains. “The Captain left this behind to ensure your welfare in the event that he died in battle.”

Died. But he technically isn’t…

“Cyane.” Your voice comes out in a deathly whisper. “Did you know?”

Just how long has he been planning this?

They shake their head. “I knew nothing. When the Captain gave me the key to this drawer, he phrased it as a contingency plan, not…an inevitability.”

Cyane explains the documents to you. There is a signed will. A pension that ensures all of your needs will be met for the remainder of your life. And many other considerations.

One document provides options for your living situation. If you want, you can stay in Capitano’s estate; you have sole ownership. Otherwise, you can return to Mondstadt or relocate to another nation entirely. Wherever you go, the Fatui will permit it and your servants will follow you.

It’s funny really. Had your captor died a few years ago, you would’ve felt relief. Joy. Freedom. But at this moment, your chest feels hollow.

Has Mondstadt changed?

It should be safe, seeing how Capitano brought justice upon your tormentors. Mondstadt Library will still be there, though you doubt that your coworkers missed you. As for the meadow…it was never yours to begin with.

You have nothing to return to, really.

How can you return to your days of barely living? What is waiting for you in the nation you once called home?

The last document is a sealed envelope.

Cyane gives it to you. “I didn’t read this. It’s for your eyes only.”

Wordlessly, you accept it. The envelope is thicker than Capitano’s previous letters combined. Your name is written on the back, the handwriting still familiar.

With that, you leave the office before Cyane can say another word.

You don’t read the letter, however. It is slipped between the pages of your notebook, joining the flowers you’d saved for your husband.

✿ ⚘

The condolences are insufferable.

Thankfully, you don’t receive any visitors or official summons from the Fatui. But sympathy gifts begin to pile up in your estate, all from your husband’s colleagues.

You’ve overheard the servants predicting a funeral in Zapolyarny Palace. It will likely happen, seeing how all of the Harbingers gathered to “mourn” La Signora.

Hopefully, you won’t be invited. From what Capitano told you, the meeting will only be a clash of egos, insincere pleasantries, formal discussions in which your husband’s death will be referred to as a necessary step in the grand scheme of the Tsaritsa.

There are also rumors that there is more to Capitano’s plan than his sacrifice. But you’ve yet to receive any official confirmation.

There is a vase of lilies from a long-forgotten acquaintance. A maid asks if you’d like to preserve it, and your response is a blank stare.

The flowers are left to wilt.

✿ ⚘

Your hobbies are your only distraction.

A week later, you continue your morning strolls. Cyane escorts you as usual, but there are more Fatuus in the distance. They are likely here to stop you from running off to Natlan.

…Snezhnaya feels colder. At this time of the year, most of the flowers have shed their petals and returned to the earth. Those that remain are all picked and passed to Cyane.

You can give them to your husband when the two of you reunite.

To think that the last time you walked around the woods, you were picking flowers without a care in the world. Though your morning strolls are more enjoyable in Capitano’s company.

The rosebush is still there. But its flowers are gone; all that remain are frost-covered thorns.

A year ago, you learned that the rosebush was artificially planted in the estate. It’s just like your husband to perform these quiet gestures for you.

Back then, you were still afraid of him. Nonetheless, he remained patient with you.

Your hand wraps around a barren stem.

The thorns are sharp, just the way you remember them. Capitano always told you to be careful when handling the roses. He’d even offer to pick them and remove the thorns for you.

He was gentle with you, too, the first time you pricked yourself on these flowers.

But it’s different now. These thorns are pricking your palm in different places. There are no white petals to absorb the blood. It is Cyane’s hand that catches your wrist, their urgent tone that breaks the silence. It is a healer, not Capitano, who treats the wounds.

Later, you flip through your notebook. Capitano’s last letter included several Natlanese flowers. Even during his most important mission, he’d taken the time to pick them for you. It was always your favorite gift, not just the flowers but the knowledge that he was constantly thinking of you.

Cyane hands you the flowers you’d picked earlier, newly thawed.

Your notebook has run out of blank pages, but you refuse to get a new one. You stack layers of flowers and parchment between the final pages, then you slam it shut and press down on the cover. The flowers flatten.

Still, your notebook won’t close fully.

✿ ⚘

These days, you hide in the library.

In the beginning of your captivity, there was a single stack of books in your room. As the months passed, it expanded to a floor-to-ceiling bookcase, followed by a personal library. Your husband had always been supportive of your hobby, so long as it wasn’t used “as a means to avoid him.”

The entire library is yours. Every time you receive a new book, you write your name on the front page and place it on a specific shelf. Unlike the books you handled as a librarian, your books are arranged according to your own system of classification.

A week before the messenger’s arrival, a set of books was delivered to the manor. In addition to sequels, there were new titles which you expressed interest in but never mentioned to Capitano. You assumed that it was Cyane who told him.

One of the books was written by a Snezhnayan author, but he’d purchased a translated edition. Thus, you were able to read it on your own; there was no need to wait for Capitano’s return.

The Snezhnayan titles take up their own bookcase. Unlike their newest addition, the books are all printed in their native language. As such, you couldn’t read them without Capitano’s help. By now, your proficiency has improved but you haven’t touched those books ever since he left.

What was the last book he read to you?

It was a love story about a cursed dragon and a captive princess. In the end, the dragon’s curse was lifted with true love’s kiss. And they all lived happily ever after.

But that was an adaptation of a fairytale. The original story ended in tragedy.

✿ ⚘

One night, you dream of your husband.

In your dream, you reunite with him in a meadow of dandelions and Inteyvats.

He wears a pristine uniform with an eight-pointed star over his chest. His mask is off, revealing a face free of scars and abyssal rot.

His cursed appearance had never bothered you, at least after you got used to it.

His eyes are the only part of his body which remain the same. And yet those deep blue stars are gazing at you with indifference. The same emotion that you’d seen, time and time again, in the eyes of your foster family and caretakers from Mondstadt Orphanage.

He doesn’t acknowledge you. Is it because he doesn’t recognize you?

Perhaps that is it. After all, just as Capitano’s old body has been preserved, so has yours. Every inch of your skin is covered in old bruises and wounds, along with the pain of each memory.

Your voice is audible, restored to its original state before you began speaking in whispers. When you call out to him, there is no pain in your throat.

But he doesn’t respond. Behind him, you can make sight of a war-torn battlefield.

You run towards him but the meadow stretches, widening the distance to him. Capitano turns around and walks in the direction of the battlefield, leaving crushed flowers in his wake.

Is it because he doesn’t know you? Or has he simply tired of protecting you?

In the end, even this imaginary version of your husband didn’t hesitate to discard you.

✿ ⚘

Your trip to Natlan is finally approved.

A group of Fatuus, including Cyane, make preparations to escort you. An official report confirms that you will be welcomed by the Captain’s remaining soldiers stationed in Natlan.

You don’t pack much. You are only traveling to reunite with your husband, after all.

This is different from the trip you had in mind. Before, you’d envisioned Capitano bringing you to Natlan for a vacation after his victory. He only had good things to say about the nation.

It was a year into your marriage when he told you about his battles in Natlan, his previous life in Khaenri’ah, the souls he’d carried in his heart for the past five hundred years. What he didn’t tell you was the sacrifice required to grant salvation to his fallen comrades.

Sometimes, you forget that he has lived a whole life before you.

It’s nothing to be jealous over, not when the same can be said for you.

But in those moments…it becomes clear that you were only a short chapter in his life.

You tell the servants to prepare clothes suitable for Natlan’s climate. When you check your luggage, you are pleased to note that they didn’t pack mourning attire.

You still wear your wedding ring, with its little flowers sculpted from gold and jewels.

There was no romantic proposal or wedding. A few days after your abduction, Capitano simply slipped it onto your finger. From then on, he began calling you his wife.

It was a perfect fit. Capitano had his own ring, and you rarely saw him without it.

Similar to him, you wear it around your ring finger. Other times, you hang it from a necklace chain, keeping it close to your heart.

✿ ⚘

In Natlan, you introduce yourself with Capitano’s family name.

Until now, you aren’t used to hearing a surname after your first name.

In Mondstadt, only your first name is registered in official records. When you were part of your foster family, you had no opportunity to use your new name; you only know that “______ Maier” was written in adoption papers long reduced to ashes.

In contrast, your name is registered with Capitano’s family name in Snezhnaya. And when you began accepting his love, you were all too happy to use it in conversations.

It was a significant decision. To him, who had lost his family in the Cataclysm. To you, who never had a family before him.

You also know about Capitano’s true name, though you rarely use it out of respect for his past. But whenever you dared to call him Thrain, his reaction was one of affection.

Now, in Natlan, you hear his true name spoken in reference to a legendary hero. But you don’t ask for those stories, and instead focus on your husband’s soldiers.

They are visibly somber, eroding what is left of your hope. Worse are their thoughts of you.

Prior to their mission, you were mainly known as the mysterious wife of Il Capitano with your frail countenance and melancholy gaze. But now there is a different tone to their whispers.

“The Captain’s widow is here.”

“Was her gaze always this dim?”

“Poor thing…you can tell that something has broken in her.”

Rotchev brings you to a monument honoring those who lost their lives in the war. The Captain’s image is sculpted on it, and it isn’t just his soldiers who visit it. An elderly man named Munay offers to host you in his home, out of gratitude to him.

…The nation seems lovely, and you can see why it never left your husband’s memory. But grief plants persistent seeds of resentment, and you have little reason to enjoy Natlan in solitude.

In the end, you are introduced to Ororon, the Natlanese hero who worked closely with Capitano.

He is awkward around you, if not surprised by the revelation that the Captain was married. He does recall a few instances when he spied on him picking flowers; when he gives the names, you recognize those flowers from his last gift.

He agrees to bring you to him.

✿ ⚘

Here he is.

Your husband sits upon a throne surrounded by dark ice. A stairway leads up to him.

He looks like a character straight from a fairytale. A dignified ruler. A lonely warrior distanced from those he saved. Or perhaps even a sleeping beauty waiting for his beloved to wake him.

Cyane guides Ororon away from the Throne of the Primal Fire, far enough to give you privacy but close enough to come to your aid if anything happens.

With that, you walk up the steps. You don’t stop until you’re right in front of him.

Up close, your husband looks the same. His chest rises and falls with steady breaths.

Your voice is barely above a whisper. “Capitano?”

Silence. He remains seated.

You reach out to him. “It’s me, ______.”

Cold. His body is so cold.

Still, you don’t let go of his hand. The muscles are relaxed and when you check his palm, you find his wedding ring under his gauntlet. But the warmth of his touch is gone.

You look up. “I’m sorry for making you wait. I tried…I really did try to come here as soon as possible.”

The silence is stifling.

Carefully, you kneel on the space between his legs so you can face him. Up close, you can peer into his mask. But no stars gaze back at you, only darkness.

Why would he do such a thing?

“This…isn’t the end, is it?” You speak louder, as much as your voice permits. “You didn’t get the Gnosis, after all, and the Tsaritsa…there must be another phase to your plan.”

Why did he save you if he knew your story would only end in tragedy?

Your vision blurs.

“Please. Tell me you aren’t gone.”

Blinking back tears, you shake him by his shoulders. But the only sounds you hear are the clink of chains, your unsteady breaths. The cracking of your voice.

Why have you been holding on to false hope?

Desperately, you tilt his head and bring your lips to his.

…They’re just as cold. Unresponsive.

When you pull away, he remains asleep.

“Thrain, wake up!”

What made you think that life would play out like a fairytale?

That is when you give up.

The tears won’t stop.

It’s so hard to breathe.

“Could…Couldn’t you have at least told me?” you shout. Your voice breaks again, coupled with a familiar ache in your throat. “Why…?”

What is left of your future?

How could the gods be so cruel as to deprive you of love time and time again?

For once in your life, couldn’t you be less selfish?

You cover your mouth but incoherent noises continue to spill from your lips. It’s too loud, all distinction lost between your words and your sobs. So noisy.

But Capitano’s response is nonexistent. This body doesn’t hug you; neither does it carry you out of this horrible place. It remains still, cold as a corpse, indifferent to your grief.

You bury your face into his coat and continue crying.

✿ ⚘

At some point, you cry yourself to sleep.

When you wake up, the sky is dark. You’re still clinging to Capitano’s body but a blanket covers you—did Cyane check on you? Nothing else has changed.

By now, you’re exhausted. Your voice has reached its limit, and your tears have dried. Numbly, you change your position so you can sit on your husband’s lap.

For the next few minutes, you just stay there. Taking in the silence, the familiar shape of his body, the ambience of his final resting place.

Here, the sky is foggy. There are no stars in sight.

Finally, you turn around to face him.

“Thank you for everything,” you whisper. Your throat hurts but you force out the words. “Capitano…I’ve missed you. I hope—”

I hope you come back.

But you dare not say it, thinking of your time in Mondstadt Orphanage when such words were a cruel wish. Back then, goodbyes meant that someone was leaving for a happier place. Why would anyone want them to return—discarded, faded, like you?

So you don’t say it. Your husband has suffered enough.

Instead, you take your notebook out of your bag. “Here, this is for you.”

You flip to the final pages. Then you take out all of the flowers you’d preserved from the beginning of his mission—the Natlanese flowers from his gifts, the Snezhnayan flowers picked since the day of his death.

You slip each flower into his coat pocket, close to his heart. When you touch his chest, you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Well, there’s no denying that he loved you. Not as much as his comrades, but enough that he made room in his heart for you.

You stand up and fix the creases on his clothes. Another kiss is given but again, no reaction.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” you tell him. A ghost of a smile makes its way to your face. “I still have so many flowers to offer to you, after all.”

With that, you walk down the stairway. Before you head in the direction of the exit, you turn back to look at your husband.

…He looks tranquil. Preserved in death, just like your flowers.

Wherever it is, may his soul rest in peace.

✿ ⚘

Cyane says nothing when you approach them, eyes red and voice hoarse.

Neither does Ororon, though you can tell he is resisting the urge to ask questions. Before you go separate ways, he asks if you are leaving soon.

“...No,” you whisper. With the pain in your throat, you are barely audible. “I’d like to stay longer. I still have so much to tell my husband, after all. Thank you for showing me the way.”

Cyane brings you to the Fatui encampment. The soldiers look even more concerned when they see you, but you walk past them and enter your husband’s tent.

It’s still furnished. When you go through his things, you find your letters, including the last one you sent him. A locked box containing every flower you’d gifted him. Reports written in Cyane’s handwriting. A Withering Purpurbloom that didn’t make it into his letters.

The flower is added to your notebook. You can give it to him when it is fully preserved.

Sighing, you lie down. Now that you’ve seen your husband…what’s left to do?

There is the matter of your future. You don’t want to move out of Snezhnaya; the manor has too many memories you can’t let go of. Maybe you can arrange for regular visits to your husband’s body. You don’t know if it’s grief or hope that makes you unwilling to leave what remains of him.

For now, you might as well honor his wishes and read his last words to you.

You wrap yourself in his blanket; if you close your eyes, you can pretend the warmth is from his embrace. Then you take his letter out of your bag and open the envelope.

…There are so many pages. A past version of your husband awaits you, preserved in paper and ink. And this certainly won’t be the last time you read his message—you’ll read it again and again, as with his other letters, until you can memorize it by heart.

“My beloved flower…”

✿ ⚘

The night before your husband’s departure, you stayed awake to enjoy your remaining time together.

He told you not to force yourself but you were stubborn. This would be his longest mission and for just one night, you wanted to spare him of the voices within his heart.

You helped him pack his bags. Capitano read one last Snezhnayan story to you, then he shared anecdotes from his past. The two of you went outside to view the stars and when you found none, you turned to him and said that his gaze would suffice.

Before dawn broke, the two of you cuddled in bed.

“Will you miss me?” you whispered. This time, you didn’t hold back your yawn—you made Capitano promise to wake you up in a few hours.

By now, that question had become part of your routine. His answer was always the same.

“I will.” He pulled back to look at your face. But his arms were still around you, caging you in his embrace. “From the bottom of my heart.”

There was a soft light in your eyes as you met his gaze, committing his face to memory—his scars, his abyssal rot, his loving expression, those deep blue eyes that held the stars.

Your hand moved lower to his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat. “I’ll miss you too.”

His kiss was warm. He felt your smile against his lips.

With that, you closed your eyes and fell asleep. There were so many more things you wanted to tell him, but you decided to save it for another day. For your future letters. For your inevitable reunion. For the happy future in your delusions.

As for Capitano, everything had already been said and written.

“May you thrive in the peaceful world I leave behind to you.”

 ♡

Happy Ending coming someday!! ヽ(；▽；)ノ

…And then Capitano got resurrected and they lived happily ever after hahahaha /deranged. 

Just to be clear, Capitano isn’t dead in my I Love You, Darling universe. This fic doubles as an alternate ending AND a prelude to my next fic, which is a canon-divergent happy ending. If Hoyoverse resurrects Capitano later on, assume that this fic + the continuation are both canon to the Herbarium series (*≧∀≦*)

Fufufufu so what did you think of this tragic ending?? *evil laugh* Like I said earlier, I’m not into angst but I had fun writing this fic. I even slipped in a few parallels to Herbarium for eagle-eyed readers. Also, a big thank you to my long-time beta-reader @diodellet <3

Lastly, I want to say thank you to everyone who has expressed their love for CapiDamsel!! Capitano and Damsel will always occupy a special place in my heart and don’t worry, this isn’t the last you’ll see of them. For now, do share your tears and reactions with me >:’3

Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @bye-bye-sunbird @leftdestiny-posts @harmonysanreads @brynn-lear @naraven @mochinon-yah @pranabefall @euniveve @limeiyuan @stickyspeckledlight @teabutmakeitazure @dawn-sky-collective @poetics-of-fuubutsu

[clockwayswrites]

Part 2

Part 1

Danny & Cass, Cyan, Wind chime bells @wandixx

Cass placed the backpack down on the kitchen counter, unzipped it, and spread the opening purposefully.

Alfred looked from the bag to Cass, one pointed white brow raised. Keeping her eyes locked with Alfred, she took an apple from the fruit bowl and placed it inside the bag.

A moment later the brow lowered and a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “Ah, looking for a picnic, Miss Cassandra?”

Pleased he had gotten it, Cass nodded eagerly and held up two fingers.

“A picnic for two? Is one of your siblings joining you?” He asked.

Cass shook her head.

“Ah. Are you off to see a friend?”

Cass nodded and scooted the bag a little closer towards Alfred.

“Well then,” Alfred said after a beat, “any allergies your friend has?”

She took a moment to think about and then shook her head. She’d always seen Danny eat everything that either of them could get their hands on.

“And is your friend human?”

That was an odd question. Cass’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“You would not believe the things that both Master Richard and Master Jason got up to,” Alfred answered, looking like a man who had been long suffering.

Cass gave a little giggle, which softened Alfred’s expression.

“If you will give me a small time, I will put together a meal for you and your friend. Perhaps, while I do so, you would go and let Master Bruce know that you are going out.”

That seemed odd, but Cass figured it was part of being in a family now. They often liked to know where she was or tell each other when they were going somewhere not the manor or would be be back to the manor. It was still taking time for Cass to be used to all of these rules that weren’t rules.

Knocking she understood now, it was apparently polite and sneaking through the shadows was not. To that end, she knocked on the door to Bruce’s study and waited for the slightly distracted ‘come in’ to enter.

“Cass,” Bruce said with a smile when he looked up from his work. “How are you doing today, honey?”

Cass gave him a thumbs up as he turned on the tablet on his desk and spun it around for her. Her tongue stuck out just slightly as she looked for the right images.

🦢🫱🥪🎒 🏠🐦‍⬛➡️🌆

Bruce watched her put in the images. “Ah… Alfred is putting food in a bag for you and you’re going into the city?”

Cass nodded.

“Alright…,” Bruce said slowly. He tapped the edge of the tablet in a soft rhythm. “Thank you for letting me know. First off, do you have your phone with you?”

Cass pulled it out of her back pocket.

“Good. Do you remember what we talked about with the emergency button? How even if you don’t think you need the help, you should press it if there’s any trouble?”

Cass swiped over to the left screen and the large button on it before locking the phone again.

“Alright. Are you willing to wear an alert bracelet too?” Bruce asked and purposeful leaned back into his chair and forced himself to relax. “That way if your phone is taken or breaks you can still press the bracelet. It has a tracker in it, but we won’t use it unless we need to or you tell us too.”

It didn’t really mater to her, she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t trust them, so Cass gave a little shrug and help out her wrist.

Bruce gave an amused snort and opened up one of his drawers. “If you’re any example, daughters really are easier than sons.”

The bracelet, black of course, was a little snug, but it was low profile enough not to get in the way. Cass adjusted it just slightly before she was satisfied. She was confused though when Bruce stood.

He gave her a soft smile. “I’ll drive you into the city. I have some paperwork there I should get anyways.”

That was a little bit of a lie, but Cass decided not to call him on it and simple held out her hand for Bruce to take.

-

“You aren’t supposed to come out here anymore,” Danny said. He’s trying to look mad— arms crossed with a wide stance, but the way he looked at her from under his black bangs gave him away.

Cass patted the spot on the roof next to her. It’s one of their favorite spots to watch the sunset together. Not only was the view of the sunset over the waters amazing, but when there was a breeze they could hear all the bits of metal tied to the bridge next to them clink in the wind. It made Cass sad to think of Danny watching it up here alone now.

He gave an aggrieved sigh but took the indicated spot. Once he’s seated, Cass starts pulling out the food. There are bulging sandwiches, fresh fruit, salty chips, and best of all cookies.

“Wow,” Danny said. His hand twitched like he wanted to just reach out and start eating before the food disappeared.

Cass handed him a sandwich.

“You still shouldn’t be out here,” Danny protested, but the words were muffled by the large bite of food.

Cass just smiled and started on her own.

Part 3

[a5tr0n0m1cal]

👉👈🥺 Sebastian patching an expendable up and being grumpy about it?

A stray bullet had ricocheted off the vent and into your side, making you cry out and fall to your stomach, you army crawl as much as you can through the vent before pulling yourself into the blessed safety of Sebastian’s shop.

Sweat beads your brow and you’re high on adrenaline, you sit leaning against the wall, gingerly touching your side just to confirm your fears, you were bleeding quite profusely. Fiery sensations spread up from the wound, all across your torsos right side. You paled, pressing your hand back to the wound starting to panic.

“Ahem.” A voice finally cuts through your panic enough for you to hear. “You going to buy something or are you just gonna bleed all over my floor?”

Right.

In all your panic you almost forgot to acknowledge him. “Sebastian.” You say his name, looking up at the mutated shop keeper. He cocks a brow at you, glowing cyan eyes unreadable. He tucks a stubborn piece of hair behind his webbed ear fins, a movement you’ve become familiar with when visiting him.

“Yeah?” He finally says, sounding annoyed. You’d be indignant if you weren’t so weak. You try to stand up, eyeing a medkit on his tail before feeling pain jolt through you, making you crumble back to the floor, droplets of flood splattering out. This was bad. Serious. You couldn’t die again, you had no more ferry coins.

“Please.” You say, trying to crawl, half scooting across the floor. “I’ll pay. Help me.” You plead.

Sebastian makes an annoyed sound, long thick tail flapping against the far wall in what you assume is irritation.

“This isn’t a nurses office.”

“I’ll give you everything I have.” You say, feeling woozy.

Sebastian sighs, leaning down from the great height he holds himself. Long enough he doesn’t even need to move from his spot to reach you.

Large cold hands seat your hand from your side, claws surprisingly gentle as they probe the wound. “Over here.” He grumbles, not giving you a warning as he hooks a hand under you, lifting you easily with just one palm.

He sets you down on a couple of crates pushed together, pushing on your shoulders till you’re lying down.

You vision is spotty but you catch his focused look behind his dangling esca. He yanks the medkit from his tail, flicking it open and rummaging around before finding something and biting the top off it. He spits the lid to the side and pours something on your side making you jump, pain burning through you.

“What the f-“ he keeps his third smaller arm pressed against your chest, keeping you down easily. “Quiet, I need to focus.” He snaps, threading a needle with his free hands. He meets your eyes briefly, you almost could swear with pity.

“This will hurt.” He says, prying your bloodied torn suit away from the wound.

“No really I had no ideAAAA” you cry out, feeling him slowly start to sew up your wound. It’s agonizing, but his heavy hand on your chest keeps you grounded. “Almost done, you’re doing fine.” He assures, giving you a comforting(?) squeeze. He finally closes the wound, biting the string and pulling out some bandages. You grunt as he sits you up, wrapping the bandages around your waist for you.

He’s very close. You dont think you’ve ever seen his face so up close. You notice small scars on his skin, scales that creep on the sides of his face, even gills that peek out from under his neck scarf. He clears his throat and you realize you’ve been staring at him.

“Th-thank you.” You say, lightly touching your side and feeling the bandages. He did a good job.

“Yeah well…” he lets go of you, leaning back and rising back to his usual height. “You owe me.”

You nod, moving slowly as to not rip your new stitches and retrieve all the data you’ve packed away on this run. You weakly hold it up to him and he takes it gingerly from your hand, claws brushing over the back of your hand. You swing your leg over the side of the crate, ready to leave.

“Be careful next time yeah? I don’t want that medkit to go to waste.” He says, with a lot less bite then you’re used to.

“Yeah. I got it. Thank you.”

He watches you leave, ear fins wiggling slightly.

[voxsremotec0ck]

HI OKAY SO IM THINKING LIKE VOX X READER AND VOX OWNS READERS SOUL AND THEN HE GETS JEALOUS OR ANGRY ABOUT SOMETHING SO LIKE WE RECREATE THAT SCENE WITH HUSK AND ALASTOR WHEN ALASTOR HAS HUSK ON A CHAIN BUT INSTEAD OF ALASTOR ITS VOX AND INSTEAD OF HUSK ITS READER IF U KNOW WHAT I MEANN TYYY

AHHHHHHHH

You made the mistake of talking to Alastor

The radio demon had come up to you on the sidewalk, asking questions about random things

And the whole time you had a pit in your stomach

Because you knew what was going to happen when you got home

There was no way Vox didn’t see, not with his cameras everywhere

So you knew there was going to be trouble

When you walked into your shared bedroom you were immediately met with flickering lights

A cyan chain appeared around your throat and yanked you to your knees

“What the fuck were you doing with him?”

Vox’s voice was filled with static, cutting off every other word, and he stepped in front of you

“Vox please-“

“ANSWER ME!”

His body grew menacingly, red lines growing from his mouth like blood, lights flashing like crazy as he towered over you

You were terrified

“He just came up to me! I tried to get away as fast as possible but-“

“But what?!”

Tears spilled from your eyes as your body shook uncontrollably

“But I didn’t want him to hurt me.”

Vox stared at you for a moment, mulling over your answer, before letting out a mean chuckle

“The only one who can hurt you, Doll, is me remember?”

He pulled on your chain as if to emphasize his point

You lurched forward, falling at his feet

Looking up, you saw his left eye was wide and black rings circled his pupil

“Y-yes, Sir.”

Vox smirked and knelt down, dragging a claw down your cheek

“You’re mine. Never forget that. I don’t ever want to see you talking to him again, understand?”

You nodded and tear fell from your eye

He smirked and wiped it away

“Good.”

I need to take a break from the pornstar!reader fic so have this

[0cta9on]

Today

Length: 1.3k

Genre: Fluff

IVE Liz x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Motivation is hard to come by these days, I hope you can forgive my lack of frequent updates. For the sake of my mental health, please imagine that Liz's eyes are the slightest bit of gray, I swear they look gray but they could easily by colored contacts :> Enjoy <3)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

It’s a Tuesday evening. Tuesdays always seemed like an awkward time of the week—way better than Mondays obviously, but still too far away from the weekend for any real excitement to build. The trees outside sway with the oncoming breeze, flecks of autumnal browns and golds dancing against the current before gently landing on the ground. The spontaneity of their movements reminds you of a certain someone that’s running a couple minutes late.

You take another sip of your coffee, warming and pleasant, as your gaze stays glued to the windowpane of the cafe, scanning each passing visage for a semblance of familiarity. You never had this habit before knowing her. In a past life, you kept your head down, too sheepish to look most people in the eye. Yet now, you're actively searching for the eyes of strangers, waiting until you see that glimpse of gray like the sky before a storm.

It’s a little creepy, you admit, but a billion weird glances are worth it for that split second where your eyes meet and you feel light as a feather, like the autumn breeze could carry you away with the leaves.

Across the street, the crowd splits like curtains at the start of the play to reveal the star of the show—Liz, weaving through the crowd and wearing that same apologetic look that’s become an unofficial symbol for the start of your meetings.

“I’m so sorry for being late!” she says, her voice ringing alongside the jingle of the cafe’s door.

“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “I haven’t been waiting long.”

“Still,” she removes her scarf and drapes it against her chair, the same cyan checkered scarf you bought her last year after she lost her old one, “This is, like, the millionth time I’ve been late, I feel awful about it!”

Liz rests her head against the table in defeat and you fight every urge to pat her head and comfort her.

“It’s really okay, I swear. I don’t mind waiting a little longer for you,” you say.

A smile dances across her lips, and suddenly you’re floating. “You’re so sweet, you know that?”

Your heart pounds against the confines of your rib cage like a lovesick prisoner begging to be set free. You’ve always wondered how someone like her can exist on this planet. Someone so charming, so beautiful, so perfect in every way that her only flaw is her lack of time management. Irises like raging storm clouds, paired with the personality of a calm evening in the shade. The angle of her smile, the dimples that adorn her cheeks, the luscious waves of her hair—

“Hello?” Liz waves a hand in front of your face, bringing you back down to Earth. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, sorry, I just, um… Anyways…” Timidly, you rummage through your backpack for the reason why you invited her here in the first place, taking a little extra time to calm your nerves. “H-here,” you mutter, producing a fairly hefty box from your bag.

“Ooooooh!” Her eyes excitedly glean over its matte finish. “Are these the noise-canceling headphones you were talking about yesterday?”

“Yeah, I was wondering if you could help me test them out,” you explain.

“Of course!” With an eager grin, Liz takes out the headphones and places them on her head. “Ready when you are!” she exclaims, flashing you a thumbs up.

Liz has this super power of somehow making even the most mundane tasks feel like you’re having the time of your life. As you fiddle with the bluetooth settings on your phone, you forget that it’s just another Tuesday, you forget about the countless pairs of eyes you scanned through earlier just to find hers, you forgot about the fact that you don’t actually need these headphones and only bought them as an excuse to spend time with her.

“There we go,” you say as you press play on a song. Almost immediately, Liz starts to shimmy her arms in a goofy looking dance as she mumbles along to the lyrics. You don’t even try to hide the smirk on your face. “Can you hear me?”

“Huh?” she utters a little too loud.

Chuckling, you decide to see if the headphones are as good as advertised. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Uh, my mother is at home right now, probably watching a show or something.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“Earl grey? I don’t know, I’m not much of a tea drinker.”

You keel over with laughter from her nonsensical answers while she continues to dance on like no one is watching.

Then, an inkling of an idea slips into your mind. The smile on your face fades as that idea begins to form into something new—an opportunity. What was once glee is now replaced with an anxious excitement. Your heartbeat overpowers all the background noise and all you can focus on is the gray highlighting her eyes.

The calm before the storm.

“Liz, I…” you start, voice shaky and laced with apprehension. It’s not too late to turn back and forget about this. And yet, Liz’s lack of a reaction to your change in tone calms your nerves the slightest amount. You take a deep breath and continue going.

“…I, uh, need to tell you something important. It’s been on my mind for a long while. Like, a year at this point, and, uh…”

A choppy sigh empties from your lungs. There’s no going back after this. As the last bit of oxygen brushes past your lips, you take in another mouthful of air and clamp your eyes shut.

“I like you, Liz. As more than a friend. I really, really like you.”

As soon as those words leave your mouth, you collapse face first into the table like a rickety bridge finally crumbling underneath its own weight. You did it. Sure, she didn’t hear a thing, but you finally vocalized what you’ve been keeping inside and that’s good enough for you. Maybe one day, you’ll finally build up the courage to say it when she can actually hear you. Maybe.

The sound of plastic hitting the table jolts you back up. “Oh right, how was it?” you ask, unable to meet her eyes.

“They, uh… good,” she mutters, uncharacteristically quiet. “I-I mean, they work good.”

“G-good. That’s good.” You grab the headphones from the table and put them back into their box, making sure to unpair them from your—

Your eyes grow wide as you double and triple check your phone screen. The headphones are already unpaired.

Your mind starts to race with a million questions, but only one echoes in your head—How long were they unpaired?

You shoot your gaze back up to Liz, her once milky white cheeks now stained with a bright pink hue. Your mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out. It’s too late. You know what that reaction means. And you know what’s gonna come next.

“I-I should go,” you stutter, clumsily throwing your belongings into your backpack. How could you have been so reckless? Why didn’t you double check before attempting something as idiotic as this? You’ll have to move cities now, fake your death, create a new life on an undocumented island in the middle of the Pacific—

“I like you too.”

Her voice sounds so sweet and harmonious, you wonder if all the adrenaline pumping through your system is giving you auditory hallucinations. You’ve imagined similar scenarios to these countless times before, but to hear her actually speak those words and mean them is a whole different experience.

The tidal wave of emotions washing over you renders you completely catatonic. So you sit. You let the feelings stew. You let the smile creep onto your face until your cheeks begin to ache. You let your eyes take nervous yet excited glances towards the girl sitting next to you, watching as she does the same. Those beautiful pearls of gray, gazing at you in a way that you’ve only seen in movies, TV shows, and your dreams.

Not so bad for a Tuesday.

[pumpkinpaix]

Chapter Spotlight 4:

"Iterative Violence: English (mis?)Translations of Modao Zushi and Chen Qing Ling" by Chant Y. Ng

Describe your topic/chapter in one sentence/one meme/140 characters.

A work by any other translation would NOT smell as sweet!!! In fact!!!!

What drew you to this topic?

Hi yes it's me, your pal cyan, you may know me from such hit posts as 8k words of rage-crying about the translation of 知己 as soulmates (which is about translation as violence), or maybe that other one about translation as violence (shockingly, it's really about translation as violence), or perhaps even that other other one about how one might translate Lan Xichen's title— (you know, I think this one is also about translation as violence)

If there’s one thing you hope the fandom takes away from your article, what would it be?

I hope that people think harder about how impossible it is to translate a text, and that they choose to extend more grace and compassion to authors and translators alike. A translation is not a window but a painting. Also, I'm manifesting better pay and respect for the work of translation into the cosmos. Please consider this a memo I am posting on the great message board of the universe. Thank you.

What is your MDZS/CQL origin story? (i.e. how did you come to this text?)

Started watching, made some gifs, read the book. Had a breakdown. Bon appetit.

Favorite adaptation, if any?

Audio drama! The love, care and effort put into it continues to astound me. Sometimes, to get the sound of a dizi hitting the ground, you gotta throw a dizi on the ground, y'know?

If you were isekai-ed into MDZS/CQL, what sect affiliation would you choose and why?

Please let me live my life in peace, I am but a feeble scholar.

Most compelling relationship in the text?

Twin Jades!!!!

Chaotic one-sentence pitch to get your friends into MDZS/CQL?

*gripping you tightly by the shoulders* don't

If you could ask MXTX one question, what would it be?

你最近怎么样啊？

Anything to say to potential readers of the collection?

Thanks for checking us out! It's been a wild and unpredictable (four-year!!) ride but everyone worked very hard on their parts. Means a lot even if you're just here for our little promo. :) If you'd like a copy of my contribution for classroom use, please do reach out!

You can find Chant (cyan) here on Tumblr @pumpkinpaix.

(FAQ) (all posts on Catching Chen Qing Ling)

[aventurineswife]

Hello ^^ How about i request something about reader being like aven in a way that they have walls too (yes, we're usually sweet to him in the established relationships). But like, i'm curious how it'd be for two people with difficulty admitting their own feelings.

Basically: mutual pining with aven and no one is admitting anything because it'd take a lot to admit it. Not in an enemies way, but just because they both think they don't deserve the other. "i think theyre just being nice to me bc i always hangout with them" kind of oblivious but others would think you're both dating. Until someone like topaz or ratio got fed up with it lol. I'd love to see your take on this.

Thank you! Please do whatever you can with this description, I believe in you ♪

“Don't you want me like I want you, baby? Don't you need me like I need you now?”

Summary: You and Aventurine, despite your deep feelings for one another, have built emotional walls that keep you from confessing. Both of you believe the other is just being nice, too oblivious to realize you're mutually pining. That is, until Topaz and Ratio grow tired of watching the two of you dance around your feelings and step in to smack some sense into you.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Confession in the Rain, Fluff, Emotional Vulnerability, Topaz & Ratio Being Matchmakers, Subtle Romantic Gestures, Light Angst with a Happy Ending.

Warnings: Minor self-doubt and insecurity from both characters

A/N: THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PROMPT!! 😭 AND I CAN TOTALLY SEE THIS!! ESPECIALLY BEFORE AVENTURINE AND YOU WOULD GET INTO A RELATIONSHIP, THIS SUITS SO WELL!! THANK YOU FOR THIS PROMPT AND BELIEVING IN ME!!🤭🫶💖 I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

(Ifyk the title yk🤭)

Keep sending those requests y'all, I love reading and writing about them 🫶🤭💖

The click of glasses clinking echoed through the room as a sea of gold and velvet flowed around you. The IPC’s high-profile event had you standing at the corner of the lavish hall, drink in hand, stealing glances at Aventurine across the room. He was his usual self, smiling that easy, carefree grin while chatting up the attendees, his sandy-blond hair perfectly styled, magenta and cyan eyes gleaming.

You sighed softly, feeling the familiar tightness in your chest.

It was so obvious to everyone else—the stolen glances, the shared moments of quiet company, the lingering touches that could be dismissed as nothing. To you, though, it was an enigma. You couldn’t fathom that Aventurine, with his charm and confidence, could actually feel something for you. No, he was just being nice, right? He was always kind to those close to him.

But maybe that’s all you were—a close friend. A confidante.

"Of course, he doesn't feel anything more..." you muttered, running a hand through your hair, as if the action would sweep away the doubt.

Unbeknownst to you, Aventurine was having a similar struggle. Even as he entertained the crowd, his mind was on you. He hadn’t been able to shake that tightening in his chest every time your gazes met across the room. He knew you were kind, gentle even, but surely, you were just being nice because of how often you spent time together. And he? He certainly didn’t deserve you. Not with the walls he kept up.

His fingers played with the roulette-detailing on his sleeve as he watched you from the corner of his eye. ‘How could someone so warm even look my way?’ Aventurine thought. The idea of confessing, of breaking the silence, seemed too daunting—too risky, even for someone like him who played with fate itself.

It was a strange dance, this oblivious pining. And everyone around you was done watching it.

“Are you serious?” Topaz’s voice cut through the polite conversation with the sharpness of a blade. She stood there, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in an almost imperious arch as she sized you and Aventurine up.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, trying to play dumb.

Topaz narrowed her eyes. “You and Aventurine. Everyone in the IPC knows. Heck, even Numby knows.”

Ratio, standing beside her, shook his head, clearly exasperated. “It’s painful to watch, honestly. You two are practically dating without even realizing it. How much longer are you both going to keep this up?”

A flush crept up your cheeks, and you felt your heart stumble over itself. “W-what? No. We’re not—”

“Oh, please,” Topaz interjected, rolling her eyes. “Don’t even try that excuse. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s like you’re the only one in the room. And don’t even get me started on how you gaze at him when you think no one’s watching.”

You were stunned into silence, and Ratio sighed, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Don’t overthink it. Just… talk to him. He’s probably thinking the same things you are.”

As if on cue, you spotted Aventurine making his way to the exit, slipping away unnoticed by the crowd. The sky outside had turned stormy, and you felt something twist in your chest, urging you to follow.

The rain poured down in a steady rhythm as you caught up to Aventurine, his overcoat already soaked, but he didn’t seem to mind. His back was to you as he stood under the awning, staring out into the storm.

“Hey,” you called out, breathless from both the rush and the nerves building inside you. “Aventurine, wait!”

He turned at the sound of your voice, and for a moment, his expression was unreadable. You felt the words stick in your throat, the intensity of the moment hanging heavy between you.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You swallowed hard, heart hammering as you took a step closer. “I… needed to talk to you.”

His eyes flickered with something—hope, maybe? But also a hint of wariness. “What about?”

Taking a deep breath, you searched for the right words, every inch of you trembling with nerves. “Topaz and Ratio—they think we’re dating. And, well, I… I didn’t know what to say.”

Aventurine stiffened slightly, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Oh...” was all he managed, voice unusually quiet.

You hurried to fill the silence. “They said we’ve been acting like we’re… more than friends, but I didn’t think you’d—”

His gaze snapped back to yours, a flash of emotion crossing his face before he schooled it into that familiar smile. “And what do you think?” he asked, but his voice was a little too casual, too light.

“I think…” you hesitated, your walls creeping back up, fighting the vulnerability of the moment. “I think I’ve been lying to myself.”

That caught his attention, and he straightened, the air between you charged with tension. The rain drummed softly around you, a perfect backdrop to the storm of emotions swirling within.

“I’ve been telling myself you were just being kind to me. Because I was around, or because I was useful, I don’t know. I thought I didn’t deserve you.” you admitted, the weight of the confession making your chest tighten.

Aventurine stared at you, stunned into silence. His smile faltered, and in its place, something softer, more raw, slipped through. “You thought you didn’t deserve me?” he murmured, incredulity coloring his tone. “All this time…”

He chuckled, but there was no humor in it—just a deep, aching understanding. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. That you were just being nice because I was there. That maybe I didn’t deserve someone like you.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice, the real him peeking through.

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face, the rain still falling around you both. “I thought… if I let myself hope for more, I’d lose you.”

You swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the depth of his words. “I’m not going anywhere.” you whispered, voice trembling.

And then, before either of you could second-guess yourselves, you closed the remaining distance, your lips crashing together in a kiss that was both hesitant and fervent. The rain soaked through your clothes, but you didn’t care—the warmth of the kiss, of finally closing that distance, was all that mattered.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless, Aventurine’s smile was different—softer, more real. “Guess we’ve both been fools, haven’t we?”

You laughed, the tension between you finally breaking as the rain continued to fall. “Yeah, I guess we have.”

From a nearby window, Topaz and Ratio watched with satisfied grins.

“Took them long enough.” Topaz muttered, arms crossed, a smirk on her face.

Ratio nodded. “At least now we can stop pretending we didn’t see all those obvious looks.”

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Okay, so... I had this thought earlier... but what would Vox think.. if a reader.... had a breeding kink? They get off to the idea that Vox fills them up after a hot and heavy pounding. Would something awaken in him, or would he just simply indulge in their fantasy after some thought?

My god you'd definitely awaken something in him.

That being said, if you were to start begging him to breed you in the middle of a session, it would give him just enough pause to make you wonder if you fucked up before he goes absolutely fucking feral.

If You Insist [Vox x Reader] NSFW

(NSFW writing under the cut. Minors stay away <3)

It had been a long fucking day. Vox's schedule had been booked to the second with back-to-back meetings regarding products, partnerships, and new streaming services that would be released in the upcoming year. To say he was ready to tear someone apart by the end of it all would be an understatement. Having to sit through so many boring meetings had been mind-numbingly dull and he wanted nothing more than to unwind and blow off some steam.

You were lying on the couch in his penthouse when you heard the familiar electric charge building up from one of the cameras installed in the corner. The room flashes with bright cyan light as you look up from your phone and you perk up at the sight of your favorite overlord.

"There you are," you say as you pocket your phone and get up. Your eyebrows furrow as you see the mental exhaustion clear in his expression. You open your arms and Vox groans as he falls into them, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder as he takes a deep breath.

"Long day?" You ask as you rub his back.

Vox simply grunts, his arms tightening around you. "Fucking idiots. Every last one of them, I swear."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "They can be, yeah. What can I do to help? There's still leftovers in the fridge or we could watch reruns of that shitty series you like or-"

Your trailing list of suggestions is cut off as Vox's claws dig into the back of your shirt, his hot breath fanning over the side of your neck. You shiver as he begins marking a trail of heated nips and kisses on your skin.

"T-That answers that," you sigh as you tilt your head to give him better access. After dating Vox for as long as you had been, you know better than to let him get too carried away without redirecting him to a more comfortable location. He was impatient and once he got going, he didn't tend to give much mercy or consideration to any potential aching joints after the fact.

You pull on his bow tie as you take a step back, then another. He growls as you make him follow you to the couch, his claws drifting down to your hips. You smirk as you keep ahold of the accessory and pull him down onto the couch. He straddles your lap as he hungrily presses his lips against yours.

"Coming home to this was the only thing that got me through all that bullshit," he muttered against your lips as his hands sneak under your shirt. You take the hint and help him pull off the offending garment. It gets tossed to the side and you grin as he bends down and immediately captures one of your breasts between his teeth while cupping the other.

You let out a pleased hum as your fingers find the back of his collar and dig into the fabric. "You know I'm always more than happy to help you unwind," you purr.

It wasn't long before all clothing was abandoned altogether and he had maneuvered you onto his lap while he lay on the couch beneath you. His hips stuttered against yours as you ground your slick heat against him. Every time he tried to pull you down, you smacked his hands. He growled in frustration, his claws digging into your skin hard enough to break the surface. You hiss at the pain, but grin as you look down at him and continue to tease him with your ministrations. "Patience, Vee," you chastise him.

"I've been patient," Vox growled with frustration. "All fucking day!" You had planned on teasing him for longer but were caught off guard as he flipped your positions and pinned you underneath him with a scowl.

"Vox, wait- Ah!" Your hand shoots above you, clutching onto a pillow as he slips two of his fingers into your heat. His grin is cruel as he doesn't bother taking much time before he slips in a third and moves faster.

"No, I don't think I'll be playing your games this time, Dollface," he smirks as he plunges deeper within you. He scissors his fingers and curls them cruelly as you gasp and writhe beneath him. He leans in, pressing down as he lowers his face to yours. "I'm going to do what I want to you, and you're going to let me. Isn't that right?"

You moan as he curls his fingers against your G-spot. He strokes slowly over the sensitive area with a sadistic grin. His free hand shoots out and clamps down around your throat. You gasp, clutching his wrist as he tightens his grip. "When I ask a question, you answer."

He lets you struggle for air for just a little longer, still teasing you with gentle strokes despite his cruelty before he relaxes his grip just enough for you to find your voice.

"Y-Yes," you gasp. "Whatever you want. I'll take it. I'll take it all."

"Good," Vow growled as he released you. He pulled his fingers from your needy cunt and looked at the slick collected between his fingers. "Now then," he sighed before shoving them into your mouth.

You gag as his claws press dangerously against the back of your throat. "Be good and clean up the mess you made."

Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you swirl your tongue carefully around him. His sadistic grin only grows at the sight of your pathetic obedience. "That's better," he purred as he reached down and pumped himself slowly at the sight.

He lined himself up against your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock against you teasingly as you rolled your hips against him. He groans, unable to hold himself back for much longer. "Show me," he orders.

You open your mouth, letting your tongue hang out as he retracts his clean fingers. He inspects them and nods. "Good," he says simply before his eye flashes and he shoves himself inside you without warning.

Your back arches and you let out a strangled scream as he snaps his hips into you cruelly. "Now take it all."

His claws dig into your hips as he holds them up and pounds into you mercilessly. You cry and grasp desperately at the couch beneath you as he lets out his frustrations. "That's fucking it," he groans. "You're such a perfect little fucking cocksleeve. Fuck! Your body was made for taking this dick."

You nod, babbling with tears in your eyes, "Yes, fuck, yes! I'm yours to use, all fucking yours. Please!"

Vox chuckled as his sharp, cruel thrusts slowed to a stop. You whine, feeling the desperate need in you begging to be released. "No, no, no, please don't stop!" You sob.

"I don't know," Vox smirked. "You were playing pretty damn coy earlier. I don't know if you deserve it." As much as he wanted to ruin you, he loved watching you suffer for it. For him, it was just as good as actually finishing.

You wrap your arms around his neck and roll your hips up into him desperately. "Please Vox, I'm sorry. I'll be good. I promise."

"Hmm," Vox grins as he considers it. "You promise, huh?"

You nod furiously, "Yes, yes, I promise, so please for the love of god, fuck me."

He growls as he captures your lips and starts pounding into you hard. You shake, hanging on for dear life as you moan around his tongue in your mouth. When he releases your lips, you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the bliss of it all. "Fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you," you say as you moan unabashedly.

"T-That's it," Vox said as his screen started to glitch. "There's my good fucking w̴̘͇͆͋̕̕h̷͇̦̪̺̯͋̄̂͝͠o̸̼̝̼̬͑͌͜r̵̡̻͋͛́̾è̷̹̻͎̼̹. Take it."

"Please, fuck, I'll take it, I'll take it! Fucking fill me up," you babble as the knot in your core tightens. "Pump me full of your cum. I want to take every last drop, please!"

Vox's eyes widen and he slows to a stop as he catches his breath. You whine, throwing your head back as the peak you had been so close to reaching slipped from your grasp. "Nooo, why?!"

"Did you mean that?" Vox asked, his tone unreadable and quiet.

You pant, your expression furrowing in frustrated confusion as you look up at him. "What?"

"You just-," Vox huffed, dropping his head as he continued to catch his breath. "You just fucking told me to cum inside of you, dumbass."

You blink slowly before the words of passion catch up with you. Your heart is pounding as you bring your hands up to the sides of Vox's face and lift his screen so he's looking at you.

"Vox?" you say softly as you look him deep in the eyes. "Breed me."

"Ohoho, fuck," Vox grins. You feel him twitch hard inside of you and squeal in delight as you feel him lift your legs and fold you into a mating press.

"Don't have to tell me twice," he growled with a feral grin. The familiar black rings in his eye sent a shock of excitement through you as he held you down and slowly slid back inside of your glistening cunt.

You both moan and Vox's eyes screw shut in concentration as he steadies his breathing. He crouches over you, his body pressing your legs further against your own body, and starts fucking slowly. His entire body shakes with excitement as he presses into you and holds himself for just a moment. "Just remember," he says hoarsely. "You asked for this."

His cock slid in and out of you with ease as he started his relentless assault. You moaned and babbled absolute gibberish as the obscene sounds of his grunting and balls slapping against your pussy filled the room. Every thrust felt impossibly deep as he pounded into you without restraint.

"F-Fuck," he grunted as his face started to glitch. "I'm gonna make you take every. Last. Fucking. D̴͕̂r̵̛̳̺̽̽o̷̦͘p̶̢͕̈ͅ.̷̜̤͈̿̒͌"

The rekindled need inside of you snapped as you felt him shove his cock as deep in you as he could as he came with a strangled shout. He pressed you into the couch and stars exploded across your vision as you felt him pour into you until you were impossibly full.

"We are absolutely fucking doing that again."

Vox collapsed on top of you, his cock buried inside of of you, keeping his cum plugged inside of you. The weight made you groan weakly and he chuckled as he looked down at your wrecked expression. He gently dragged his claws across your forehead, pulling the hair that stuck to your skin out of your face. He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek as he committed the sight of you to memory.

[aggieharkness]

Hello! Baking (or rather cutting out) Christmas cookies was a bit like a cold, tense hell with Christmas music playing in the background.

So I'd like to request reader baking Christmas cookies (or just normal cookies) with Lilia. Put as much fluffy, funny, feel-good feelings as you can in there, please. I'd really appreciate it.

Happy holidays!

The world is perfect when I'm with you

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x reader

Summary: It's Christmas Eve and you and Lilia share a few quiet moments at home baking cookies and simply enjoying the time to be with each other.

Warnings: romance, pure fluff, dancing, baking cookies.

Authors note: Oh my God, I love the idea. You don't know just how happy it made me to read this, like I was bouncing on my bed. I hope you like it and that it brings you happiness and comfort. If there is anything at all that you don't like, tell me and I'll change it, or if you want more, I'm here. Thanks for the request. btw.

This is a Christmas gift for you!! Happy Holidays!

The world is perfect when I'm with you

The house was filled with music. Christmas carol after Christmas carol played through the Bluetooth speaker you had bought a few months ago, echoing against the walls of Lilia’s tiny living area. She wasn’t one for festivities such as Halloween or Easter, but God, she adored Christmas. The first year you had shared the holidays with her it had surprised you just how invested she was, putting up an old beat-up tree, fairy lights everywhere, even around the bedposts, but you never complained. Her big brown doe eyes had shone with such joy and happiness that you just couldn’t bring yourself to burst her bubble in any way. The house had looked beautiful once she had finished, a small nativity scene in a corner of the room, a remnant of her past life in Sicily. This year wasn’t any different, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The first of December hit the calendar, and she was like Sonic the Hedgehog pulling out boxes of lights and ornaments, leaving the tree to you, a brand new one covered in fake snow that you had gifted her a couple of years ago. She loved knowing that you were helping and making sure the house was just like she wanted it to look, little angels and random glass balls hanging from the branches, golden tinsel wrapped around it along with a string of lights. It looked beautiful next to the TV. For three weeks you helped her set up the house until you were finally able to take your vacation days, leaving your job until the sixth of January.

Morning had come, bursting through the windows in gentle warm rays of sunlight that bathed over Lilia’s form as she slept, those lovely peppery curls shinning under the orange beams, her body cuddled against yours. Every morning since you both had closed up the shop for the holidays had been exactly the same sweet routine; you waking up first to meet the dawn while she slept for a bit longer, basking in the way your hands followed the shape of her soft ringlets, and your tender kisses lulled her away from the land of dreams. It was simply the best way to begin the day. You both had stayed in bed talking about nothing and everything cuddled against each other until the sun was well high up in the sky, the pinks and purple hues that had painted the world above now a clear blue cyan while the world was buried underneath a crisp layer of snow that had fallen through the night. You had not noticed, wrapped around Lilia, lost in her kisses. She got up first, her hair falling from the bun she had had when you had taken her to bed, her ivory gown letting you catch a glimpse of her otherworld body as she made her way to the bathroom, the light hitting her just at the right angle making her nightdress completely see through. She looked bloody fantastic for being over a hundred and fifty years. The rest of the routine followed like clockwork, coffees and scrambled eggs included, making way for the moment you were both in right now.

Lilia’s body swayed from side to side to Michael Bublé, a Christmas classic for her, her voice not only harmonising perfectly, but overtaking and overpowering the music so easily and effortlessly that you had to stop pulling bowls out of cupboards simply to watch her. Over the kitchen counter she was beating three eggs along with melted butter and sugar, ingredients spread everywhere because when she had got up, right before she had left for the bathroom, she had bent over your body, your eyes drifting to her cleavage until her eyes had claimed your attention, telling you that you were making cookies today. Had you been Agatha or maybe even Jen you would have complained telling her that it was boring, but you were you and the prospect of baking with Lilia was like a perfect Christmas gift.

-Lils, how much flour do we need? – your eyes lifted from the big packet of flour that you had just left on the table, her usual red and blue robe flowing when she moved to stand beside you, a yellow apron with the words “Look at these buns!” protecting her clothes.

-280 grams baby, or one full cup. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

-Everywhere you go. Thanks, hon.  

-Take a look at the five and ten.

-It's glistening once again.

-With candy canes and silver lanes that glow.

It was wonderful to sing with her even if your voice could never compare; she did not care. Anything that she did with you was simply perfect. Her hands left the bowl of wet ingredients on the table, holding onto yours before you could grab the sifter. She pulled you away from the table, moving your arms from side to side rather dumbly, twirling you on the spot before your chest was pressed against hers. The music was forgotten in the background, drowned by both yours and Lilia’s laughter as your bodies bent exaggeratedly from right to left. Christmas suited her, it was as if this holiday had been made for her, the lights that she had placed all around the room blinking on and off within a pattern, the bright colours mixing with the warm light bursting through the windows. Lilia twirled the both of you around the kitchen table until the song ended, “Feliz Navidad” now playing instead. Her lips landed briefly over yours, pecking you sweetly before she put you back to work with the dry ingredients.

-Don’t forget the baking soda. Last time you did, the cookies became a rock-hard mass.

-Hey! How was I supposed to know that the baking soda wasn’t in the baking soda bottle but in the saffron one? You are the one who loves to recycle.

-Why would I want to throw away a perfectly usable jar? Besides it’s not my fault you forget your glasses in the bathroom all the time.

-Oh yeah? – you grabbed the top of her apron and pushed her against you. – Where are yours now babe?

-You little…

-Ah! No cursing, you don’t want the dough to get upset and not rise, do you?

-I don’t know why you listen to Rio, that it’s obviously a myth.

-Do you want to risk it? – she shook her head, her pout transforming into a bright smile before she kissed you once again, humming happily against your lips.

There were still a few deep tones of the black coffee she had had for breakfast on her lips that your tongue picked up and savoured before turning back to your bowl. Sifting the flour so there would be no lumps you followed the powder with your eyes carefully, making sure every single drop was inside the bowl this time. Over a week ago you had been supposed to bake an apple pie for Sharon’s book club but there had been a few minor hiccups, one of them being you sifting the flour all over the table because you had been looking at Lilia while she talked about a client that had come in requesting the lottery number. When she turned around, she saw you covered in the white powder, bursting into unladylike snorts of laughter that had her entire face turning red, needing to sit for a moment to fill her lungs and calm herself down. Through the corner of her eye she watched you fill the bowl and congratulated you on not spilling it, a kiss on your temple, her hands busy slicing a couple of chocolate bars. She was teasing a bit, but every praise was always genuine when they came from her, a bubble of happiness wrapping around your heart. A pinch of salt and the baking soda and the dry ingredients were ready for the rest of the mix, Lilia wiping her hands on a tea towel before beginning to pour the eggs, sugar and melted butter mix. Instead of using a whisk you had grabbed a spatula from the sink, washing it before beginning to gently fold the batter until it was smooth but thick.

-Can you turn the oven on? I’m almost done with the chocolate.

-Can’t we just bake them with, you know… a flick of our wrist?

-I swear, Halloween Town has made so much damage. Being able to do something doesn’t mean we should, and you have never seen me turn chicken thighs back into a chicken, have you?

-No, but can we?

You knelt on the floor removing trays and plastic Tupperwares so they wouldn’t melt, turning knobs until the light came on and the fan began to work. You were thankful for all those squat trainings you did as you lifted the ceramic trays you had removed from inside the oven and placed them over the bed covers noticing that Lilia had not answer the question. When you turned around she was biting into a perfectly backed chocolate chip cookie, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips.

-Why didn’t you tell me we actually could Lilia?!

-Because half of the fun is letting the smell of fresh baked cookies fill the house.

She stretched her hand, the half-eaten cookie waiting for you. You rushed back to her and took one big bite, moaning at the taste of the chocolate and vanilla essence, Lilia popping the rest in her mouth, pecking your lips after a moment. Even though she could clearly bake at the snap of her fingers she still moved to put parchment over a metal tray, grabbing a scoop from a drawer. She had already mixed the chocolate into the batter, the dough cold to the touch when you went to pick up some with your finger. So, she could chill it in a second instead of putting it in the fridge, but she did not want to bake them with her magic? A waste of time in your opinion, but then again, she might be right, as usual. The house did smell delicious for days after baking. Lilia had placed a bottle of olive oil on the table so you could lather your hands in it, the first scoop of batter landing in your palms so you could round them before placing them on the parchment paper, over two inches in between each cookie so they could rise and expand in the over without ending up as one giant monstrous thing. It had happened before. The first batch of eight cookies was done in just a few minutes, but there was still a bit of batter left, not that Lilia hadn’t thought of a solution already, another tray waiting for what was left. Just as you finished rounding the last one the oven begun to beep, and Lilia bent to put the trays inside, setting a timer for around fifteen minutes.

-Now for the sugar cookies. I’ll get the ingredients ready while you clean up the table, okay baby?

-Sure, just let me move this flour bag to the counter first.

Innocently you picked up the heavy bag, waddling slightly towards where Lilia had cleared a spot for it on the counter, feeling it slipping a bit off your hands, your steps faster so it wouldn’t end up on the floor. In slow motion you let it plop on the counter, just in time, your fingers barely holding onto it, but the motion had caused a white cloud of flour to come out of the bag right towards Lilia’s spot. Your hands shot to cover your mouth, eyes wide, when you turned to look at her, fighting the laughter that wanted to erupt out of your mouth. Lilia’s beautiful face with her rosy cheeks, big characteristic nose and plump lips was utterly covered in a thick layer of white. She blinked a few times, flour falling off her eyelashes giving her an even more comical look with her chocolate doe eyes staring at you through the white mask. Some of it had made its way to her hair, mixing perfectly with her curls. She opened her mouth to speak but she coughed instead, a small cloud of flour puffing in front of her right before sneezing, part of the powder falling onto the top of her dress and over her yellow apron. There was silence for a moment, not even YouTube Music was playing as she stared at you, hands on her hips. An instant later “Let it snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!” was filling up the room with its jolly tune, your laughter impossible to keep quiet.

You roared loudly, a hand still trying to cover your mouth while the other was holding onto your stomach, eyes moving from her face down to the floor. Lilia was staring dumbfounded at you, an offended look on her face as you laughed. Her hand shot to grab your arm pulling you towards her, eyes watering when you rose up to gaze at her. She stopped your laughter quickly, her hand throwing a handful of flour to your face, making you blink away the flour surprised at her action. Staring at each other there was no sound coming from either of you before Lilia chuckled, you following until you were both laughing, your hand grabbing more flour and throwing it in her direction, Lilia dodging it just in time. When you saw that she was putting her hand in the bag you rushed away from her giggling excitedly, feeling her behind you as you rounded the table, her flour missing you by an inch. She was now actively chasing you all throughout the house, your body sliding through the curtains and into the store. You were both leaving a trail of flour on the floor, but neither of you cared.

-I’ll get you for this!

-I’m sorry! I didn’t… - you could hardly breath from how much you were laughing, screaming in delight whenever she got close enough to grab you but never actually doing it. - I didn’t mean it!

-Come here!

You rushed to the door, pulling the glass gates open and stepping into the empty street. Sure, you were not wearing clothes appropriate for snow, your feet cozy inside your slippers, legs dressed in a pair of black leggings, but you hadn’t thought of that. Moving over two feet away from the house, Lilia following you out into the street, you took one step until you felt her hands grabbing onto your waist, pulling you against her. You yelped gleefully while laughing, feeling her arms snake around you, the perfect crispy snow reaching your mid-calf, the air cold, a contrast against Lilia’s delicious warm body.

-Got you. – she whispered in your ear, her breaths rapid and hot against the skin of your neck. You smiled while resting your head in the crook of her neck, very little flour left on your faces now.

-So you did.

-If it was all a ploy so we could come out and play in the snow you know you could have just told me.

-Hmmm, not a bad idea, but it was an accident.

-I know, baby. I’m not mad, but you are cleaning up when we are done baking.

Your mouth was open in shock, a retort forming in your tongue as you turned your face to look at her, but it never made it out of your mouth, her lips on yours kissing you tenderly, her soft ringlets caressing your cheeks. The chocolate cookie had left a wonderful sweet taste on her lips, or perhaps it was the bite you had had, either way, it seemed to fit her perfectly. You both stood over the snow for a few minutes observing the usual boring street covered in glistening white all over, on the roof tops, over the signposts. It was beautiful as long as you had Lilia behind you pecking your cheek. She turned you around after a while, holding onto your hands, pulling your frame back inside the cozy home. The oven had just begun to beep when you crossed the curtain to the back, Lilia rushing to them so they wouldn’t burn letting go of you. She was beautiful, spots of flour still clinging to her skin, like on her forehead or the tip of her nose, but they didn’t seem to bother her as she placed one tray on the stove and the other on the counter over a plate so it wouldn’t leave a burn mark on the old wood. You could spend every minute of your life watching her do anything.

They smelled absolutely delicious, the aroma spreading through the room to every corner, gently sliding into the shop. Over the bed covers you had left a rack which she picked up and left on the counter, you watching from your spot against the back wall as Lilia worked flawlessly, transferring the cookies along with the parchment paper to let them cool down. There was no room for the hot trays now, but that was no issue. Lilia turned, locking her eyes with you and then winked, lazy tendrils of yellow magic wrapping themselves around the trays and lifting them in the air, floating with gentle swaying motions over your heads. Everything related to Lilia’s magic was always so very mystical, visions, readings, the usual divination magic that she was used to, so it was wonderful to see the more practical, fun side of it, it meant she was relaxed and happy. She moved her hand beckoning you to join her, pulling out a pair of clean bowls after she had left the dirty ones in the sink.

-Why don’t you start with the icing?

-What happened with cleaning up the table?

-Flour on my face happened, doll. But don’t worry, there’s not much on the table now, I’ll just move those cups to the side if I need to.

-You don’t trust me anymore? – you pouted with a fake saddened tone as she took a stick of butter and a few eggs out of the fridge, turning her body towards you, a hand on the counter and the other on her hip, head lulled to the side. She sighed but smiled, your pouting making you look just so adorable.

-You know I do, otherwise I wouldn’t have given you the fun part of the recipe. You get to paint the cookies, baby.

-Yeah, but it’s fun doing things together. I want you to paint with me.

-Who said I wasn’t going to? You just make the icing and leave it on the side while I start on the batter and then we can cut them together. Does my baby like that?

Nodding your head she moved her hands to your cheeks kissing your lips tenderly, a smile on her lips when she parted from you. Happy that you had got, yet again, another kiss you took a small bowl from the cupboard above your head, checking the recipe that was stuck to the exhaust hood above the stove with a magnet before picking up two eggs, separating the yolks from the whites. Lilia kindly took the yolks and put them aside to use them at lunch time while you beat the whites with the whisk a bit. You didn’t need to do it, you just liked to before putting the icing sugar in, which you could not find in any of the cupboards. You pulled doors open, drawers, you even searched the fridge, it wouldn’t have been the first time any of you had accidentally put something in that didn’t belong there, but it was nowhere, and you could have sworn you had bought some not long ago. Lilia saw you moving frantically all over the kitchen and asked loudly what you needed over the music of “Jingle Bells Rocks” that was now playing. Upon hearing what you needed she moved aside to present you with a bright orange bottle.

Of course, she must have picked it and put aside when she had begun to gather ingredients. She was measuring the sugar, your eyes watching how her hands, dressed in rings on multiple fingers, tapped the bag and moved to the beath of the song. With a small cloud of floating icing sugar you mixed it all, a white paste forming in the bowl to which you added a little bit of corn syrup to make it glossier, just a touch that you liked. Now came the fun bit, taking the food colouring and crating the weirdest shades you could come up with. With a spoon you poured some of the mixture into an empty glass, adding a drop of red that turned pink upon mixing it with a teaspoon, so you added a few more, happy with the bright red that you made and setting it aside. Lilia looked at your science experiment from the corner of her eyes, hands adding spoonfuls of flour into the wet ingredients, folding the powder in. You were like a little kid with a bunch of sharpies and crayons painting lines and figures excited to see the final outcome, Lilia’s brown eyes looking at you as you mixed red and blue to create purple, although right now it looked a bit more like a suspicious brown. She let you finish mixing the colours, reminding you to leave part of the icing white, before adding the last few touches of a pinch of salt and baking powder, the dough clumpy in the bowl, as it should be.

 -Are you done with the arts and crafts, babe?

-Yeah, I think. How do you make grey?

-You don’t. I didn’t get any black colouring. Why would you want to add grey to Christmas cookies?

-Well, I don’t have an idea right now, but I like to have a range.

-Come on, Van Gogh, let’s roll the dough.

While you closed the last bottle of colouring Lilia placed the dough on the table, her strong arms and hands kneading and rolling to combine it and let it form a big smooth ball. You were mesmerised by the way her muscles moved up and down even through the lose sleeves of her dressing gown, her chest bouncing gently to the motion, your eyes glued to soft flesh of her neck and collarbones through the low-cut dress she was wearing, her amulet swaying along. It was incident to stare like that, but she was just too captivating, and she knew. She could feel your eyes watching her every move, a shiver running down her spine, but she never stopped kneading, there would plenty of time for her to take you to bed later. She gave it a few more punches before patting the little ball of dough, signalling that she was done.

-Should I get the rolling pin?

-Yeah, this is ready. It’s in the second drawer, next to the bottle opener.

-It’s too early for a glass wine, right?

-Yes, darling. It’s my company so bad that you need to get drunk at 10 am? – she raised an eyebrow while looking at you, a hand on her hip over her apron. Only a couple of feet separated you, but it was too much of a gap for you, snaking your arms around her neck while her hands automatically moved to your waist, her lips ghosting over yours.

-Never. You are far too alluring and beautiful, I would hate to get drunk and forget tomorrow how you looked today, or how your perfume compliments the smell of cookies so well.

A childish giggle escaped her mouth, muffled when she bent to peck your lips. She was clingy today, or amorous, either way you were not complaining. Parting from you she patted your hip, a sign that she needed you to get her the rolling pin, which of course you did. Anything she needed. There was a certain level of excitement building in your chest as Lilia rolled the dough until it was a quarter inch thick, the sheet overtaking half of the kitchen table, the best part coming at last.

-Right, where are the cookie cutters, babe?

-They should be in a box in the cupboard over the sink. Let me check. – pulling a chair from under the table you stepped on it to check in between the toaster and a juicer that you had got her for her birthday, date that she still refused to tell the girls in the coven, Sharon included as she could be a bit of babble when she had a glass or two of wine in her system. You searched but the box was nowhere to be found. – I can’t find them, did you move them, hon?

-No, not that I remember. Have you looked behind the coffee bags?

-Yeah, they’re not there. Where… Ah… I know where they are.

-Where? I’ll get them while you come down.

-Does the car have gas? – she was resting her backside against the edge of the desk as you stepped down, returning the chair underneath the table.

-What? What does the car have to do with anything?

-I lent them to Agatha.

-What? Why?

-I don’t know, I stopped asking her what she needs things for. I’m not getting another story of her and Rio’s sexual exploits during an expo or whatever. She just asked for them, so I lent them to her.

-You mean gave them to her. We are going to have to buy new ones. Well, it’s not too much of a loss, just grab a couple of knifes and we’ll freehand the cookies.

You practically hopped your way to the upper drawer to pick a pair, rushing back to her side and handing her one. You stared at the dough as if calculating, figuring out exactly what you wanted to do and after a moment, you began to create what you were sure was a candy cane, super proud of the shape until you looked at Lilia, who had had the same idea, and noticed how your lines were hardly straight and the curve was more a 90º angle.

-Why does yours look like an actual candy cane?

-Practice. Oh, yours is not that bad, baby. What is it?

-Ha ha. You know very well what it is.

-Yes, sorry, just teasing.

It was now a competition for you, eyes squinted and your teeth biting down on the tip of your tongue as you tried to keep the knife straight through every line, connecting them all and creating a star, or what you thought should be one, because it looked more as if it had just been run over by a car. Lilia laughed when she saw it and in a childish move you planted your index finger right on her Christmas tree, squishing it while sticking your tongue out. She gasped while calling your name.

-Y/N!

-You laughed at my star!

-It doesn’t look like one, baby.

-And now your tree doesn’t look like a tree, so we are even.

-Darling, it doesn’t matter if they are not perfect, we know what they are supposed to be and that’s all that matters. So what if your star needs a bit of therapy? Now my tree needs a chiropractor. Let’s continue, alright?

-Just don’t laugh again.

-I promise, scouts honour.

She pecked your lips and forehead before tuning back to the dough. The next form was supposed to be a snowman, but it looked more like a bunch of amorphous meatballs, a giggle sliding through your lips at the sight. You turned to check Lilia’s attempt at a reindeer which was more along the lines of a corgi with horns. You could not help it, it brought a cackle out of you, her peppery curls bouncing around her face as she wiped her head to look at you.

-I didn’t laugh at yours!

-Yeah, but… what the hell is that Lils?

-It’s a… It was supposed to be a reindeer.

-I’m sorry honey, but it looks nothing like one.

-Well, it’s a new breed. From Canada.

-Shall we name it? – your hand went to her shoulder, your head resting over it as you both watched the figure.

-Agatha, for stealing our cookie cutters.

She laughed at her own joke, your own snorting only adding to the humour of the moment, without a care in the world. Both of you carried on making shapes and forms, some of them better than others, some being additions to the “new breed from Canada”. You had pointed at each other’s creations laughing and praising, giving some of them names until you had the entire coven in cookie form, but you and Lilia’s figures could not be those weird interpretations of snowmens and trees, so you let her carve yourselves as two beautiful gingerbread women. It had started out as Christmas cookies but in the end, when Lilia had begun to move them to the floating trays, there had been more amorphous beings than accurate forms, but neither of you cared one bit, “Fairytale of New York” following “Santa Baby” on your Christmas playlist. Lilia’s head perked up at the sound of the music, pushing the door to the oven with her hip until it closed, setting a timer for ten minutes. She grabbed your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours as she pressed you against her, swaying to the song.

She must have been a singer and a dancer at some point in her life, there was just no way she could be that good and not have had shown her gift to the world at least once. You would ask her one of these days, but as of now you were happy to dance with her in the kitchen, listening to her sweet voice follow the tune. The moment was perfect, down to the song, to the way the sun caught in her hair as she twirled you both around the room, her citrusy perfume filling up your lungs along with the sweetness of the cookies. How could you have ever been blue? How could you have ever thought that happiness was not in for you? Lilia had come into your life and the world was suddenly a beautiful place where nothing could ever go wrong. Staring at her eyes it was as if they were the melted chocolate you had tasted on her lips earlier, warm and loving.

-They've got cars big as bars, they've got rivers of gold.

-But the wind goes right through you, it's no place for the old.

-When you first took my hand on a cold Christmas Eve.

-You promised me Broadway was waiting for me.

-You were handsome

-You were pretty, Queen of New York City

She laughed at the nickname, head lulled back, her feet never stopping, moving from side to side. The living area wasn’t precisely Buckingham Place, but you two made it work, and as Lilia’s moved both your bodies, her dressing gown brushing the foot of the Christmas tree, she truly showed you how much that tiny little room could give. The warm light that had bathed the room suddenly disappeared, the bright colourful lights that she had placed in every corner overtaking and lighting up the room in a dance of colours and shapes. Your eyes drifted to the window seeing the sky covered by big fluffy white clouds, a gentle breeze having picked up outside the house, the first few snowflakes beginning to fall, but Lilia claimed your attention when she pushed your body away form hers while still holding your hands.

-The boys of the NYPD choir were singing Galway Bay and the bells were ringing out for Christmas day.

She pulled you back against her body once again, her arms around your waist, your hands resting on the back of her neck twirling her soft curls in between your fingers. Her forehead was pressed against yours, the movements slow as the song carried onto the last few verses letting the words drip from her lips in hushed tones only for you to hear. The two of you had closed your eyes letting the warmth of each other’s bodies wrap around you, basking in the way you could feel the love seeping from every pore, from every word that escaped her lips. It wasn’t until she sang the last verse, her breath tickling your nose, that she did press her lips to yours, hiding her face into the crook of your neck after a few moments to escape the reality outside those four walls. “Auld Lang Syne” followed, the softer tune perfect for you both to simply sway on the spot, your hands caressing Lilia’s hair and neck, your cheek resting against her ear as she breathed in your perfume and shampoo, humming happily. Neither of you wanted the moment to end, feeling as if being like this, in each other’s arms, was just the perfect way to live Christmas Eve before the craziness of going over to Sharon’s with the rest of the coven happened. You wanted to savour every second you had with Lilia and only Lilia. For once the world could wait, stop moving altogether until you were ready to carry on with life, though you doubted you would ever let the happen.

Right on time the last few notes playing marked start of another song, the oven starting to beep. Lilia did not wish to move, but she had to, extracting herself after a minute to pull the trays out, letting them float around just like she had done before. You helped her transfer the chocolate chip cookies onto a plate, setting them aside so she could let the sugar cookies out of the trays and onto the racks. But you were impatient, she knew, and with a flick of her wrist, your eyes shinning gleefully as you watched a few sparkles of golden magic fly from her fingertips, they were cold enough to be placed on the kitchen table to be decorated.

-Do you have any ideas you want to share, darling?

-Not really, well, maybe. I think we should paint the Coven with their signature colours.

-Alright. Let’s start with Agatha, that way if she looks bad it won’t matter much. She owes me a bunch of cutters.

It was playful banter, she didn’t really hate Agatha, quite the opposite, she took care of the woman as if she were a daughter, looking after her, looking out for her, protecting her from the world as if she were afraid someone could break her. It was one of the main things that had attracted you to her at first, her caring, nurturing nature. She picked up an empty pipping bag and let you fill it up with the purple icing before cutting the tip. The first blob fell right in the middle of the reindeer, and since there wasn’t much she could now she carried on. The shape was horrid, but she assured you that once the details were added it would bring it all together. You weren’t very sure. The eyes looked a bit disproportionate, and the antlers were a bit thick, but all in all Lilia thought it looked good, and you didn’t want to disagree.

-My turn now, let me do Sharon. In green?

-Yeah, we have two green witches, we’ll just make Rio’s eyes brown and call it a day.

You might not have been gifted with the knife, but you sure were better with the pipping bag than Lilia. Your reindeer was more accurate, green but accurate, the small beady eyes perfectly positioned but the antlers… the looked like a bunch of worms. It suited a green witch you supposed. Lilia was quick to praise and tell you that it was beautiful, kissing your temple and watching as you did Rio’s as well, a perfect reindeer in front you down to red nose and everything. You were so excited, bouncing in her arms, her words filled with love and joy as she told you just how pretty it was. Her hands moved on to Jen, the shape of the snowwoman much easier than that of a reindeer in pretty shade of pink, the eyes and buttons brown, along with a blue scarf and orange nose. She put it aside to let the icing harden your hands working on Billy as she did Alice, both snowman that looked pretty decent taking on account that Lilia’s orange pipping bag burst in her hand just as she was finishing Alice’s body, icing all over the table and a couple of candy cane cookies.

-What a mess!

-Baking is messy, Lils. Don’t worry, there’s enough icing left to make more orange.

-But…

-It’s perfectly fine, honey, honestly. Just clean that up and I’ll make more. And those two cookies can be like orange flavoured candy canes. See? Problem solved.

-My baking hero.

Grabbing a glass after she pecked your cheek, you were quick to blend the right shade of orange, putting it inside a new pipping bag and handing it to Lilia so she could finish Alice’s body. It was beautiful to do this together, Lilia’s lines wiggly and the consistency a big lumpy when she tried to do the first few stockings until she gave up and moved on to the stars, easier in her opinion. You tried to write names on the stockings once she had moved them to your side of the table, but they were more like scribbles that no one could understand, still the colour code every member of the coven had settled for kind of helped to identify which was for which. The moment was both cozy and hilarious, pointing at the figures you were both painting, commenting, laughing and scraping to begin again only to end up with the same wiggly lines and mismatched colours. Lilia once in a while added her own touch to one of your cookies, be it a weird bow or a string of tinsel around a tree while you gave hers a more artistic touch by adding sparkles to her candy canes or little dots of colour on her reindeer’s antlers claiming that they were Christmas lights. She had laughed hard at that stating in between laboured breaths that it looked as if the poor thing had crashed a farmers’ market, and to be honest it kind of did, laughing along with her, your body pressed against her arm as you both shook and cackled. But neither of you cared, they were yours and in their horrid looks they looked perfect to you. The only thing left was to paint were you and Lilia’s gingerbread women, something that you were left in charge of as Lilia didn’t want to risk it. The pressure was real as you did Lilia’s face, her curls a mix of white and brown icing before you moved onto the clothes giving her a yellow jacket, white blouse and blue pants, the outfit you had met her in when she had been thrown out of the Witches Road after fishing her task. She had been covered in mud back then, but you weren’t one to add brown and destroy her beautiful cookie. You put as much effort in your own, dressing yourself in a pair of black trousers and a red blouse, your hair in a bun above your head.

-They look beautiful babe. Mirror images of reality.

-It’s easy when you have the perfect model in front of you. – she smiled at the compliment, a gentle pink hue dressing her cheeks. She blushed so tenderly and so beautifully.

-Flattery will get you everywhere with me, darling.

-I certainly hope so.

-As much as I love the idea of letting you have your way with me, why don’t we let these cookies settle for a bit and go out?

-Everything’s closed.

-I didn’t say that we had to go somewhere in specific. You like snow, don’t you?

-Of course!

-Then get your winter boots on and let’s make a real snowman!

-Really?!

You jumped on the spot nearly knocking over the table, Lilia’s hands shooting to grab it, your lips on her cheek before rushing to the other side of the room. You apologised while running to your closet, grabbing a jumper, a pair of thicker trousers along with some Harry Potter socks and rushing to the bathroom, your voice reaching her ears as you sang loudly, your voice filled with joy, knocking over things that were on the sink.

-Do you want to build a snowman?!

-Oh, God, not “Frozen” again.

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

@itsastridsart I'm so so so sorry this took so long to write and yet it's still going to be split into parts, but I've got a plot for this story!

Featuring: Passive/Nightmare sans x reader

Masterlist

Once in a Nightmare.

|First Chapter(you're here)|Next Chapter|

You met Nightmare before everything. When he was still the pure soul of the past. Your AU had been destroyed by it's own creator, as they thought it was "too cringe", you didn't know how you managed to escape, but your wings came in handy, being an angel-demon hybrid has it's vantages.

Having nothing else to do, you decided to travel through the multiverse, passing from universe to universe without really caring about the people there, it's not like they could replace the missing feeling of your dimension.

And then you discovered dreamtale.

There was something off with it, you felt it the first time you visited. And the second. And the third. That skeleton that was always next to that tree.. he looked so.. familiar.. as if you had known him before..

You just snug it off and appeared right next to him, ready to start a talk and never return!

But your grin faded away when you saw his beat up, having injuries all over his bones and skull, his face facing you in terror as you touched his cheek.

"What... Happened to you..?"

Silence.

"...I can't leave you like this."

You came prepared for situations like this, for fell universes people, for yourself, it didn't matter for who it was. What mattered was that you were already wrapping his injuries up, disinfecting and cleaning them.

It didn't take much time for him to warm up to you, the only person who didn't have a burning hate for him, and it didn't take long for him to gain feelings.

.

He adored you, everything, the way you treated him, your sweet and caring touch as you treated his injuries, it hurt so bad, but he loved the way you'd be with him, making sure he's okay...

And when you accepted his feelings after he confessed? Oh dear he was head over heels, he was almost crying of happiness.

"..(_____)?"

"Yes?"

"Can you... Promise me something..?"

"Of course Nightmare!"

"Please.. never ever leave me alone.. please promise me we'll be together.. forever.."

"I promise Nightmare, I promise."

He held your hand, a ring on his finger and a ring in yours, you both are going to be married soon...

He made you promise. Promise never to leave him.

Until the accident happened.

One day you came back and everything was... Destroyed. Dream was stone, everyone was dead. And the worse, a gloomy skeleton standing in the middle, sitting at the now cut tree. You recognized him. The moon ring on his finger gave it all away. It was Nightmare. The man who you once loved, even with a different visual, you knew who he was. You didn't think twice and fled, you couldn't just believe it... This was just a bad dream... Right?

You kept the ring on your finger, it was the only memory that remained of him.. even after decades, centuries, you refused any man's advance, like you were waiting for a certain someone..

Rumours spread around the multiverse, and quickly found a skeleton's attention..

.

"Let me go!"

You screamed as your body was carried by three skeletons who had just broken into your house and kidnapped you, restraining your movements with ropes tied around your wrists, wings and legs.

"Heh, afraid we can't do that, boss told us to bring ya to him"

"Who?"

No response.

The skeleton with black eyes only chuckled and continued walking, you saw a gloomy gigantic castle in the distance.. you feel like the energy of this place is familiar..

It didn't take long for you to be inside, fancy cyan decor filled the halls, the skeleton, whose name you learned to be Killer in the way here, led you to a dinning room and sat you on one of the chairs, telling you to wait for his "boss".

Some paintings of someone who looked oddly similar to you with a black skeleton decorated the walls as a cyan-purplish light coming from a gold chandelier illuminated the room, you looked at the elongated dark wood table that had an irregular oval pattern in front of you and then at the dark cyan chairs with small golden details surrounding it.

You suddenly felt a tentacle wrap around your eye line, you tried to get it off, yet the ropes tied around your body didn't help. But as soon as it came it left, facing you with a plate of food placed on the table and the same skeleton of the paintings sited right in the chair in front of you.

"My my, look what we have here.."

The sound of his rough and deep voice filled your ears, his eye looking into the depths of your soul as a smirk formed in his face.

"Missed me, (_____)?"

".. W-who on earth are you.."

His expression shifted to an offended one, one of his hands touching his chest.

"Don't even remember your own fiance my dear?"

He exaggerated, showing the moon ring in his bony finger making you freeze for a second.

"I don't know where you found that ring, by my fiance is long dead."

"Oh no no no darling, is it too difficult for you to understand?" He pauses. "I'm your fiance, my dear."

He laughs as a tentacle untied the rope of your wrists and grabs your hand, showing you the sun ring on your own finger.

"My sunshine... I know you remember the promise you made. And I know you still love who I was... So.. why not love the new me huh?"