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thedevillionaire · 2 years

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I posted 466 times in 2022

That's 23 more posts than 2021!

115 posts created (25%)

351 posts reblogged (75%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@evilfloralfoolery

@sniction-fiction

@athousandblessings

@mimikusu

@silklined

I tagged 461 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#answered asks - 39 posts

#cerberus - 31 posts

#cerberus and kia - 28 posts

#my ocs - 22 posts

#thank you so much! - 19 posts

#supernatural soap opera - 15 posts

#love it - 14 posts

#i love it - 13 posts

#thank you so much for the asks! - 9 posts

#cerbia - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 125 characters

#this – ‘’mere snatches of josephine abstracted the rippled reflection left behind when she’s some moments ahead’’ – is divine

My Top Posts in 2022:

Discovery

A little awakening moment with very early Cerberus and Kia. It's their third date, and a notable first time. ---

She can’t even remember the last time she’s been on a dinner date. A proper one, that is. Proper proper. At all.

Is it…never? Wow, is it actually never?

Kia tries to settle her nerves a little. Calm down. It’s just food, okay? Fancy food. Oh my god, you know how to eat! And you can do a little fancy. They’re not even at the dinner part of the evening yet – they’re just selecting an accompanying wine. Or he is, anyway. She has no idea about that sort of thing, really, though she’s more than happy to partake in fancy wine alongside fancy food. And she’s wearing a very suitably fancy silk embroidered dinner gown, after all. Partaking is practically mandatory.

But the magnificence still strikes her, here the depths of the DeVille manor, the cellar with its stonecut staircase wrapped in cast iron curves and filigree, the capricious flicker of firebrands, and a core warmth in the atmosphere permeating even the heavy stone. She’s never been here before, never experienced anything like it. Like him.

He looks like art. It’s far from the first time she’s thought it but there are moments it shakes her all over again, as if she’s seeing him completely anew. As indeed it does tonight, with him in beautifully tailored black dress coat, brocade waistcoat with richest green detail offsetting in echo that famous emerald gaze, unbound midnight hair falling past broad shoulders; he is dark majesty resplendent and he disorients her with a breathtaking presence unrivalled.

Cerberus pauses by the burnished oakwood door, offering his hand to her as she negotiates the final descent in delicately beautiful shoes entirely unsuited to the task. She’s slow to accept, still a little caught up in her thoughts, but thankful for the assistance and the warm solidity of his grasp – firm, safe, see? you’re not hallucinating, real – amid the imposing, classic grandeur of it all.

It’s also an imposing, classic grandeur that is apparently not in regular use.

His opening of the door sends a chaotic dance of dust motes into the air, thick and animated, the light from the firebrands illuminating the swirling wild array.

“Ah, damn.”

Cerberus, with a sharp and immediate catch of breath, frowns momentarily, sniffles and rubs his nose, well aware that it won’t prevent the inevitable for long. And indeed it doesn’t; he turns from Kia and gives over quickly. “HuhTSCHuu! Ah-TSSCH-uu! Excuse me, I… hh-AATSSCH-uu!”

“Bless you!” Kia offers with a smile, and a tone belying a sudden, riveted focus.

“*snf!* Thank you, darkling.” Cerberus shakes his head briefly as if to clear the irritation, sniffles again. “Should come down here more often, I suppose, but there’s not really been the… hh-HH…” His brow creases, expression collapsing expectant. “—the occasion. Sorry, I’m going to sneeze agai…” he almost manages, his words a blurred rush of necessity as his breath is directed to more pressing matters and he turns away once more, hurried and desperate; he covers with hastily retrieved handkerchief and with a scimitar gasp surrenders again.

“hh-h-huh-TSCHH-uu! Huh-TSSCHH-uu! *snf!* Huh… huhhTSSCHHUU!”

And Kia doesn’t expect or indeed understand the sharp thrill that flashes through her now, makes her stomach leap, her heart still a moment then race, but ohh she recognises the cause of his reaction, and she smiles softly as she finds herself discovering this simple little susceptibility in him unexpectedly beautiful.

“Aw, you’re allergic?”

He partially concedes with something approaching a concessional half-nod, and an accompanying sniffle. “A little se…” His breath catches again and he wipes his nose with a firm and determined measure of resistance. “A little sensitive to it, mm.”

Kia’s smile broadens, warm and vibrant. “It’s actually adorable, you know.”

Cerberus chuckles in a mixture of bemusement and utter disbelief as he rubs watering eyes and sniffles again. “Not quite the word I’d choose, darkling,” he says, selecting a bottle of something deep red and richly decadent, which he wastes no time in passing across to Kia in acute and escalating urgency. “It’s probably best if…” He inhales sharply at the insistent returning itch that he can do very little about, and he stifles another unstoppable sneeze against his shoulder. “HXXTch! Best if you hold this. I… hhh...!”

He turns from her immediately the moment the bottle’s safely in her hands, capitulating absolute, possessing and powerful. “Huh-AAHTSSCHHuu!!”

“Gods! *SNF!* Pardon me.” He blows his nose, excuses himself again and takes a moment to recover, looking over at Kia with an expression of self-deprecating chagrin as he pushes disarrayed falls of ebony from his face, sniffling again in the wake. “I feel my aura of debonair mystique may be taking a bit of a hit here.” He offers her a wry smile and raises an eyebrow.

Kia laughs, openly and genuinely. “Oh, but you’re completely nailing adorable,” she purrs through captivation - the unexpected thrill of seeing something so small and insignificant, so regular, so everyday, overtake him like this, but also how entirely he commits to it, once it’s a certainty. His intensity, passion, potency intrinsic to his being somehow, in every aspect.

So much to learn...

She curls her arm around his waist, stands on tiptoe to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Bless you,” she murmurs, just a little softwanton, then adds a playful, “I mean, I’m pretty sure adorable is one of the main qualities a good Demon king needs anyway. Actual fact.” She grins.

"Oh, I see." Cerberus smiles back at her and runs a cautious forefinger beneath his nose with another sharp sniffle. “Ugh. Honestly! Charming as that is, darkling, I think what I actually need is fresh air.”

“And an incredibly sexy dinner date.”

He laughs. “And an incredibly sexy dinner date.”

68 notes - Posted June 13, 2022

It’s No Secret

Little domestic moment with my darlings, no plot other than a mildly irregular day in the Demonics Office. --- Kia knocks, opens the door and enters the Demonics Office in a fluid, nonchalant motion like there’s no risk involved in such an act whatsoever.

“Hey, hon, you busy?”

Cerberus, with a sharp sniffle, vaporises the latest clutch of used tissues he’s holding and glances up from his seat at the desk as his bonded, unannounced and unexpected, flashes him a vibrant smile as she moves to meet him, bestowing a quick kiss and no time to reply.

“No, okay, great, because…”

She mumbles a rhetorical “Can I just shift… I’m just gonna…” as she moves a few papers aside, puts the small hamper she’s carrying down in their place, and looks Cerberus over in quick assessment. He’d been headachy, distracted and sniffly morning-long. Early afternoon now, and the light hint of pink to his nostrils, the tiredness muting the intensity of his gaze, the remnant scent of smoke from recurrent tissue immolations combine to suggest that nothing much has changed. He presses the back of his hand against his nose with more than a little force, and sniffles again.

“Okay, first, this is honey and ginger tea.” Kia holds up a thermos, points to it. “It should still be pretty warm but you’ll probably want to reheat it anyway. Figured that wouldn’t be a problem, though.” She smiles and winks playfully.

“Anyway—” She pushes some more desk accoutrements aside, ignores the fleeting mildly pained expression this action brings from Cerberus, and sits on the desk to face him. “—you know that whole ‘the secret ingredient is love’ thing, right? When someone cooks something and it’s extra good and you ask them how it’s so good and the answer is that the secret ingredient is love?”

Cerberus, not quite sure where she’s going with this, gives her a quizzical look. It’s gearing up to be a particularly relentless week, as Influx is every year, and he’s only just at the beginning of arranging it all, he’s done very little of it to completion, and delaying further won’t help anything at all. “Yes, darkling, I suppose so, but I…” He wryly indicates a paper with a mess of unfinalised schedules on it. Another sniffle sees him claim another tissue.

Kia is not going to be distracted from her cause.

“Well, my love is not a secret.” Directing his attention now to a soup canister, she removes the cover to proudly display the contents. Floating in the broth are several vegetables which have been precisely cut into heart shapes. “It’s actual. Look - you can see the love!” She points at a heartcarrot. “Which obviously means it’s the best soup ever,” she adds with certainty, waving a presentational flourish over the soup and smiling broadly. “Anyway, so, like, I did the carrot and potato but the chicken is just shredded because it’s hard to make hearts out of chicken. Also the corn, it’s just…it’s really tiny.”

Cerberus laughs with a genuine, heartwarmed delight. This is so very Kia, so very the essence of his beloved – these thoughtful eccentricities, percipient kindnesses, the joy she always brings with it – and he curls a hand through her rich brunette waves, touches a kiss to her forehead.

“It’s wonder…” He clears his throat as his voice catches a little, sniffles again and wipes his nose. “Excuse me. It’s wonderful, love, you’re wonderful, but, really, you needn’t have gone to the trouble. I’m al… hh…” His expression collapses into an immediately surrendered frown, haze falling over emerald eyes, and he brings the tissue he’s holding up in cover, turns from Kia as much as he can in the almost no time he’s afforded before he capitulates, urgent, needful, unforgiving. “HUHTSSCH-uu! Huh-TSSCH-uu! Hh-hh… HH… AhhHETSCHUU!”

The room spins a little more than he’s prepared for and he takes a moment for a chagrined wry recovery. “Damn it. *snff!* Couldn’t have timed that more badly if I’d tried.” He clears his throat again, wipes his nose firmly. “Pardon me.”

“Bless you. Lucky for you I brought this amazing and clearly needed chicken and vegetable love soup.”

He chuckles wryly, thanks her for the blessing and wipes his nose again, just as ineffectively as the last time. “And I do appreciate it, darkling, I truly do, but I will be fine, I promise.” And he still mostly believes it, although with somewhat less conviction than perhaps he did earlier.

A languid hand weaves through falls of ebony hair as she meets his gaze, her tone faux stern for, “Oh, I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Any form of you holding me suits me perfectly well, love.” Cerberus incinerates the tissue before indicating the multitude of papers awaiting his attention. “But unfortunately, for the moment, duty calls.”

Kia sighs, just a little. “Well, if you really absolutely do have to be all big bad formidable Demon king or whatever today, you definitely need the soup,” she says, the undertone of chastisement clear as she trails a fingernail along angular cheekbone. “You’ve barely made it through a sentence without sniffling since I got here, you know.”

He’d love to not sniffle again at this point, but despite that, he absolutely does.

She quirks a knowing eyebrow at him, leans in closer for a warm, lingering kiss, and Mindsends :Nobody is too formidable for soup.:

She leans back again, looks at him in gentle yet firm challenge. “And don’t you even try to pretend.”

Cerberus chuckles wryly, shakes his head. “Ah, darkling, I wouldn’t dare.”

This magnificent goddess. The call of duty is lessening by the second.

He wraps an arm around her waist in desirous embrace, pulling her close, raising the ambient heat both with thought and physical touch. Pushing her hair aside with slow, indulgent tenderness, he tucks silken chestnut behind her ear to press a kiss to her neck, his sly smile practically tangible as he murmurs a susurrant baritone I used to run this place, you know.

“Mmh,” Kia manages, heat suffusing her, wanton volcanic, and she leans in, tracing her fingers languorously over her bonded’s face as she does so. She feels his nostrils twitch against her touch, senses as much as hears the short, sharp inhalation he cannot help but take, and the heat already burning her rises again, incendiary.

And the Demon king would very much like to not continue to perfect the art of inopportune timing but his powers have no dominion here, not in the face of this irresistible need, this culmination desperate. He turns to stifle against his shoulder, once and then again – “HXTchu! HXXTCHu!” – and he Mindsends an apology as the need, only increased with the suppression, returns renewed insistent powerful absolute and he inhales deeply, doubles over into folded arms, surrendered.

“Huh-AAHTSSCHHUU! Hhh… hh-TSSCHH-uu! HHTSSCHH-uu!”

Kia’s Mindsent :Bless you, sweetheart: is a vibration through body and soul.

“hh-AHH… Ah-TSSCHH-uu! Ah, gods.” Cerberus sniffles fiercely, murmurs a thank you and an apology, and sighs. “I suppose I’m doomed at this point, hm? Excuse me, love.” He claims a sequence of tissues and blows his nose thoroughly, which does stop the sniffling – in the short-term, at least. And it may simply be the presence of his beloved, but he strangely finds himself feeling better than he’s felt all day, even if he’s not exactly sounding the part, and he chooses the path of optimism again. “I’m sure I’ll be alright, though, honestly. These things do pass.”

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70 notes - Posted April 27, 2022

Best Served Cold

≈ 3,000 words of Underworldian shenanigans - Cerberus and Kia and some guest appearances; any and all questions, please do ask! And as always, thank you so much for taking the time to enter in; my ridiculous little heart loves you all. ---

Seriously?

He’s somehow managed to resemble an outtake from a baroque portrait, an array of plush blankets slung over the chair and side table in what certainly wasn’t artful arrangement but has fallen that way all the same, much like his own position, like he’s been purposefully styled to be all long, sculpted limbs, curtain of silken ebony hair falling just so, shirt semi-unbuttoned as if for an intentional, dramatically splendid unconsciousness. The grandeur of the room itself brings its own measure of import, and a claret-stained wineglass and tissue box, both notably empty, lending further subtle touches to the vista – of indulgence, of necessity. An almost bacchanalian, luxuriantly rich chaos of classic beauty gone vaguely awry, a haphazardness in paradox, perfectly disordered.

And he’s got no right to be this beautiful, not under third-day ravages of a heavy headcold, asleep in the fireside chair that he swore to her he wouldn’t fall asleep in, he’s just going to review some papers, it’s no problem, darkling, and it needs to be done.

He’s a little flushed; could be the wine, could be a touch of fever.

Kia sighs. He may indeed be an unfair triumph of aesthetic debauchery, but right now the stunning Demon king is also just her sick husband, his formidable dominance quieted under blanket pile and sleepthick congested breaths, domestic everyday mundane, which is somehow the most surreal and incredible part of all of it.

Picking up one of several scrolls strewn across the table, she glances over a complex and bloodthirsty looking collection of daemonological whatnots she mostly doesn’t comprehend. Okay, pretty sure that’s ‘evisceration’…

Alrighty, then.

She takes a brief detour to the kitchen, collecting the tissue box from the countertop there, and returns.

“Hey, hon,” she says as he blearily wakes to her soft stroking of his hair, the contours of his face. Her briefly reproachful expression is entirely a work of fiction, though, and she tilts his head towards her for a loving kiss.

:You’re the worst self-medicator I have ever met.:

Cerberus murmurs a congested, hoarse and not quite awake yet Mm, hello, love with a sniffle and nose rub against an itch that wastes no time in reasserting itself; with an urgent gasp he collapses into crooked elbow and a couplet of heavy sneezes he doesn’t even consider fighting. “Ah-TSSCHH-uu! Huh-hhAHTSSCHhuu!” He excuses himself breathlessly a moment before an immediate third, powerful and possessing. “HHAAHTSSCCHU! Ugh, pardon me. *SNFF!*”

“Bless you, sweetheart. Here,” Kia says, passing him a couple of tissues from the new box, which briefly confuses Cerberus before he gathers enough wherewithal through coldhazy tiredness to work it out. He presses his hand to his temples, the bridge of his nose, a series of ineffectual, wet sniffles in the wake, pushes his hair back from his face and makes a halfhearted attempt at rearranging both himself and the blankets into a slightly more put-together fashion.

Another sniffle. “Thanks, love. Sorry.”

She touches a kiss to the top of his head,running her fingers through his hair even as she gently pushes it aside, her hand resting a moment on his brow, noting with slight concern a heat beyond his norm. Another kiss as she drapes her arms around him. “How’s the cold?”

“Flourishing.” He sniffles again, particularly emphatically, and groans as he notices that he’s not, in fact, completed the work he meant to do – work that he thought he had done. “And apparently I’ve had—” he says, as much to himself as to Kia while running through a rapid double check of several scrolls, definitely incomplete, “—the world’s most tedious dream.”

He looks up at his bonded as if she’s going to know the answer, though he’s asking himself more than asking her. “How have I not finished this?”

“Well… You did finish the wine, so...” She gives him a good-natured, gently teasing smile.

“Ah, no, that was shared with Lilith during a delightful impromptu argument earlier,” he says, examining a particular scroll for a third time, “and… *snf* Oh, I…” He frowns, breath sharpcatching, and raises an index finger in urgent necessity of pause, turning from Kia with haste. “Hhh-AHTSSCH-uu! Hh...hh-HH… Ah-HEHTSHhuu! Ah, gods.”

A tired exhalation follows and he sniffles thickly in the wake of it, grumbles something about barely know what I’m doing thanks to this pestilential nonsense and excuses himself to claim a fresh sequence of tissues. He blows his nose, which does little more than reignite the itch with extra heat, burning insistent relentless, and he sneezes again immediately. “Huh-AHSSCHuu! Honestly, this has been… hpt-XCH! all damn… hhH! *snf* All damn day. Excu… hh-ah…AAHTSCHUU!! Gods, excuse me.”

“Aw, bless you, babe.” Kia gives him a moment of recovery – such as it is, his breathing still somewhat erratic – and runs her hands through her bonded’s hair with one hand, passes him some more tissues with the other. “So, want my news of the day? Yeah, you do,” she says with a kiss to his cheek and no pause for an answer. “You know how I had my crash course in Mortal Studies instructing? Okay, well, oh my god it’s a whole lot harder than I expected. Like, some of the stuff you have to explain is just really…really weird. Ash has been super helpful, though. Except he did give me all the assignments to mark, which is definitely less cool, but fine, I guess. At least it’s a small group.”

She stops to regard Cerberus a moment in a sudden, slightly delayed curiosity. “So what were you arguing with Lilith about?”

Cerberus scoffs as he vaporises the used tissues. “Gods know. Haven’t a clue. I’ve willfully forgotten, or today’s medication came with some creative side effects notably more effective than its purported effects.” He clears his throat and sniffles again, rubbing his nose with a determined firmness, and subdues the most recent of the recurrent itches – almost. “She came around here and said some things at me. *snf!* I’ve no idea what.”

“So what did you say, then? You must have said something.”

“Probably did more sneezing than talking,” Cerberus mutters with clear touch of bitterness, more to himself than to Kia, though she offers a nod of agreement and wry chuckle all the same. “Be that as it may, though, I really have very little idea of what the problem actually was. Something about the damned Nuit and Arcadia issue.” He frowns in thought, pressing a hand to his forehead, and sighs. “I could have sworn we started out holding much the same opinion on the matter. Though I’m sure she’d be more than willing to let me know exactly where, why and in which way I was completely wrong about everything.”

“If you don’t remember what you said,” Kia says with a playful wicked grin, “you really can’t be sure that you weren’t wrong about everything, yeah?”

“Honestly, darkling. Are you actively trying to make my day worse than it already is?” Cerberus raises an eyebrow at her and shifts his position to rest his head against hers, murmuring, “I couldn’t have been wrong about everything. I never am.” He turns slightly to give a fleeting, knowing smile at her resultant incredulous laugh, coughs in reflex and groans quietly. “Ugh, I feel appalling.”

“Aw, honey.” Kia touches an affectionate kiss to his temple. “I know.” She glances over her shoulder as a knock sounds at the door. “Huh. Are you expecting anyone?” she asks, already moving to answer it.

“Dear gods, no. Although Lilith didn’t let that stop her from turning up earlier.”

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71 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

Home Truths

A little snapshot moment. I've been kind of on a sappy domestic comfort kick lately. No plot save the small things. 🖤 ---

I’ll be alright.

But of course he’d say that.

The doubtful inquiry in her gaze isn’t lessened at all by his assurance; he’s been tired and out of sorts since waking. He knows this, and as he looks across at her from where he sits on the couch, he concedes to it. Just a touch.

A little sniffly, love, but I’ll be alright. A slight smile she recognises as an effort made just for her.

He looks exhausted.

Kia keeps a watchful eye on Cerberus with intermittent, lingering over-the-shoulder glances while she finishes making her tea. He’s sniffly, as he says, indeed – he has been since an early, powerful trio of sneezes rich with the kind of wet heaviness that never bodes well – but also the lethargy in his motion, the unspoken story of his hand pressed against his temples, his sinuses, the brief frown of discomfort he gives as he does so ensuring her attention remains fixed.

A moment’s hiatus then another frown, first appearing almost curious but quickly deepening to something much more urgent, hijacked sharpneedful desperation, a keen gasp collapsing rapidly into an imperative, overwhelming sneeze. No respite in its wake and his breath is a hitch of pleading and need, and another, and again, completely overtaken.

“HehAHHTSSCHUU! Hhh…h… Huh-HH… hh-HAHTSSCHHUU!!” He doesn’t so much cover with crooked elbow as surrender into its refuge, whole body capitulation, and the deep shiver, cold flash and head spin that follows sets him reeling. Everything aches, sudden and absolute, he’s chilled to the bone, senses simultaneously dulled and painfully sharp, like the world cracked on its axis in the aftermath. He doesn’t excuse himself as he usually does, he doesn’t have the wherewithal, and puts his head in his hands, looking and sounding so unlike himself that his bonded abandons her tea without another thought and moves to him.

Her hand on his shoulder in steadfast caress, an unspoken promise of sanctuary.

Honey?

He gives the slightest shake of his head.

I’m not…

And for a moment she almost expects another denial, but it’s fleeting.

His energy stolen, with brow creased he looks up to meet her eyes in true concern; a clear, perplexed worry cast unmissable in emerald, and a shocked waver in his voice that she’s never heard before – tone quieted, apology-laced, and without doubt.

I’m not well.

Its simplicity brutally telling, Kia knows immediately how certain he must be for such an admission. The matter-of-factness, no denial, no mitigation. A plain honesty rendered devastating.

Oh, sweetheart.

She embraces him in softwarm haven and he leans into her touch as she cradles his head against her breast, comfort embodied, silently noting what is almost certainly fever.

A gentle kiss pressed to his forehead. It’s alright. Whisper intimate, reassuring. I’m here. A tender stroking of his hair, holding him closer as he shivers and sniffles again. I love you.

And she finds herself echoing his words, but from a place of promise rather than avoidance, security rather than hope. An endgoal rather than an entreaty.

Another kiss.

You’ll be alright.

---

73 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Gifted

just a small domestic micromoment

---

He’s late.

He’s very late.

He’d really tried not to be but just about everything that could have gone wrong has resolutely done so all damn day, and he closes the bedroom door as quietly as he can, not at all surprised to find his beloved already asleep. He’s exhausted himself. Everything’s taken at least twice as long as it should have, his ability to focus one step from nonexistent, and now on top of it all he just can’t…seem to…

“hh-HH”

stop…

“HuhTSSchuu!”

Cerberus covers with tightly crooked elbow as best he can in an attempt to keep things as quiet as possible but good intentions regardless it’s really not where his talents lie, and he hesitates in a momentary frozen hiatus, brow creased in concern as Kia stirs just a little, unsure whether he’s woken her or not.

But she resettles quickly enough and he sighs, sniffles, pushes his hair back from his face. He takes a fresh tissue, then another, from the box on the dresser, wipes his nose with a commanding, wilfully insistent firmness, and immediately sniffles again.

Gods his head hurts. He swallows with pained effort, the brokenglass sting in his throat a wicked omen, but for now he’s just so glad to finally be home and back with his love; the day’s had precious few moments of respite, and even the sight of his bonded is some kind of soul-deep succour.

Despite his attempts to not disturb her she wakes a little anyway as he joins her under the covers. She murmurs a soft sound of welcome, her mouth curling into the smallest of contented smiles, and sleepily shifts her position to curl up alongside him, trail her fingers through his hair.

And all he wants is to immerse in the sanctuary of her embrace and finally get some much-needed rest but this incessant itch just will not…

He turns from her rapidly as urgency becomes imperative, demanding insistent no warning no chance, and he sneezes twice, stifles a third

“Huh-TSSCH-uu! AHTSSCHuu! HXTchu!” in desperate rapid succession; she reaches over to gather some tissues to pass him, offers a sweetsoft bless you concurrent with his wearily chagrined excuse me as she does so. He manages a partial thankyou before returning unstoppable rising need wrenches him away and he buries his face in folded arms, doubles over absolute, surrendered.

“HhhAHTSSCHHuu!”

He groans quietly and collapses back amongst the pillows with another series of liquid sniffles.

“Aw, you getting a cold?” Empathic and sleepblurry, it’s not so much question as observance, muffled by both the bedlinens and her bonded’s shoulder as she wraps herself around him, touches a lingering kiss to his temple.

A resigned hmh of concession; he feels entirely too awful for any denials. “*snf!* Doing an outstanding job of it, too, it seems,” he says, the thick edges of heavying congestion already dulling his diction. He sniffles again, rubs his nose with more than a little force, and turns his gaze to hers in wry apology.

She tuts a warm sound of sympathy and props herself up on her elbow a moment to regard him with tender concern; the rarity of an admission like that from him has her immediate attention. “Come here.” A gentle hand brushes some errant midnight strands aside, a murmured, “Oh, hon,” and she softly directs him to lie against her, embracing him, entwining them together. She presses another kiss to his forehead, and feeling his breath catch anew reaches over to the tissue box again, passes him a preemptive handful as she sleepily returns to nestle close against him once more, her voice warmwhispered, intimate, soothing.

“You’re such an overachiever.”

134 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#my addiction to ask memes laid bare in the taggery #pretty happy with my top 5 here though ngl #even though i'm not entirely convinced of its accuracy because i have two posts that notes-count-wise should be here #my OCs incognito missing out lol #and there should be a comma in that 'longest tag' after 'abstracted' dammit tumblr #from The Final Final II by the fabulous mongooseblues #this was fun though

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