#Ashes on a breeze (ooc)

[cryptic-ashes]

(Sniffle- so nobody was gonna tell me about goth Vittorio??? Hic hic-)

[rottiens]

i must know ur stepcest thoughts 🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

US AT MIDNIGHT | GETŌ SUGURU

✮ wc. . 2.0K

✮ tags. . stepcest, spit kink, smoker fem!reader, alcohol consumption, praise kink (good girl), canon au. 18+ mdni. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ about. . the right thing to do would be to forget about the past and start over. pretend nothing happened. but sometimes the right thing to do is not always what we should do.

✮ notes. . i wanted to explore this trope from a more 'forbidden romance' point of view rather than lust as such, yk? Suguru really cares about the reader. I hope you can still enjoy it and suguru will probably be ooc here so I apologize for that ;sighs;

"You look ravishing tonight." You needn't turn around to know who it was, though it would be hypocritical to deny that you weren't expecting him.

Suguru followed you stealthily like shadow into the backyard, guided by your hips and the sound of your heels against the wooden floor that gave him clues as to what your final destination was. The trees under the breeze of the spring entrance flutter carrying silence.

You steel yourself to turn around, the courage you have never had but now cling to as if your life depended on it. You squeeze the cigarette you carry between your fingers and finally order your feet to move. You almost curse the moon for showing him to you so mysterious, the absence of light allows you to admire his blurred features and the darkness dances on his face preventing you from seeing him clearly. You sigh his manly perfume and smile wistfully at him, dropping your head to the side.

"Suguru." You hadn't said that name in a long time, hadn't thought of it after going to college abroad and abandoning your promising future as a sorceress, so having it in your mouth drags up memories that hit your belly like whips. He returns the same smile, clutching the cup in his hand. In the distance, the sound of music comes muffled through the walls that separate you. "Thank you… you look…" older, handsome, taller "You look good," you conclude with a sigh. "You grew your hair long." You point out the obvious, with a finger gesturing to the black hair that falls loosely down his back.

Apparently something you said makes him grin more, not to the point where he shows his teeth but you do notice the way his shoulders relax at your presence just a little.

"You don't have to hide from me."

"I wasn't," you reply without blinking, trying to keep the plastic smile.

You barely forget about the cigarette burning in your hand, so before the ashes land on your gleaming heels you bring it to your mouth taking a deep puff in search of, ironically, clearing your lungs. After pleading with your mother that you didn't want to attend her and Suguru's father's annual wedding anniversary celebration and she asked that you do so, you created a master plan for tonight that included everything from your hairstyle to your outfit, continuing with the dialogues you would hold and the posture you would assume the entire night… only your perfect plan didn't include your stepbrother cornering you alone like the wolf he is.

You extend the cigarette to him but he shakes his head taking the cup to his mouth instead, ironic, you learned from his vice. You wonder what else has changed in him these past few years.

Amber drops stick to his lower lip as he finishes his drink, which he soon swirls around with his tongue. You watch, unable to pretend you have no interest in him, perplexed that he still has the same effect on you.

"I should get back," you say in a voice that is raspy from the smoke, preparing to walk by his side unwilling to drag out the encounter any longer; however his long fingers tangle around your arm and that spark runs through your entire body.

"We didn't do anything wrong."

"I don't want to talk about it." You avoid looking at him at all costs, focusing on the silhouettes of your parents and their guests dancing in the living room.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you," he suddenly confesses and you hate him for doing this to you now, in the middle of such an important celebration for them.

"I shouldn't have come." You try to struggle against his grip to which he relents, only to seconds later grab you by both arms and slam you against one of the columns, in the background, a cicada screams as the guests rampage with a hubbub and your lungs empty from the impact.

Suguru just looks at you as his fingers burn marks into your skin and you wish you knew what was going through his mind… probably the same as in yours.

"We were kids," you try to explain as a last resort. "It was just a game." Suguru moves closer to your neck and you allow him to trespass your personal space, his natural scent clouding your senses and making you cling to his white shirt in search of stability.

Silently and with your breaths ragged and ruffled, Suguru blindly pulls your hand to his hips and you put up no resistance, then lower.

"This is what you do to me," he murmurs hoarsely. Your fingers feel his length through his pants, much fatter than you remember. Unexpected memories shame you, that should never have happened, you tried to run away from home in search of a fresh start but the images always came back to you tormenting you with the raw whip of morality. "Do you need me as much as I need you? Is that pussy wet for me?"

"Suguru…" you call out to him with weak knees, imploring him not to take you to a place you can't escape from.

"That's right. Say my name, your big brother is right here, let him take a look."

You whimper, more for lack of words or response than because you have any other choice, Suguru uses your weakness against you and that makes you feel frail, under his big fingers he destroys the mask that for so long it has taken you to form. His fingers are cradling your pussy above the fabric of your dress, tracing the labia up and down as he parts them at the same time with light pressure in search of your hidden clit, as soon as he finds it suguru starts a swirl taking his time to listen to your body and which way he caresses you is the one that makes you feel the most pleasure.

He helps you remove the uncomfortable belt around his hips so you can find his hard cock, unlike him, you search through the boxers to touch him directly and you both gasp at the contact.

"We cannot…" you try to elaborate, however Suguru shuts you up with a sloppy kiss, makes you swallow the words as he pushes his tongue inside you, touching your upper lip in a mess of saliva and tangling with your tongue as he pauses to suck on it a little.

"Open." As soon as he commands you, still touching you, your lips stained from the smeared lipstick open for him letting his saliva drip onto your tongue. You swallow and he smiles, it's exactly like before. "I'm going to spit again, but this time keep it in your mouth, okay?" your eyes widen a little at the demand and you don't know if he notices, though you do it anyway without protest. Your tongue rolls out and you give him a glimpse of your mouth, suguru purses his lips again and drops a big gob but this time you do as he says and instead of swallowing, you keep it there. "Good girl," he praises you right away. "You look so pretty with your mouth full so you won't tell me things I don't want to hear."

At that moment, he climbs up the skin of your thigh and tosses the already soaked panties aside to play directly with your needy clit. Each touch is heartbreaking, it's like it's the first time anyone has touched you in years, his caresses are tiny bursts of pleasure that climb up your belly and squeeze you from the inside— with one hand on your neck and one on your crotch suguru keeps jerking you off while he talks in your ear and tells you how much he's missed you, how much he needed to see you again, by this point your body was about to explode, your legs tremble and your nipples harden with each dirty word that makes his throat vibrate.

Suguru raises his hand to the level of your face and shows you his open palm as if waiting for something.

"Spit." Seeing the confusion on your face you make him smile, which has an effect on you that you hate. Without further hesitation you spit, and he takes his now wet and sticky hand to his cock to lubricate it and with the same soaked hand he gives two round strokes to your pussy, giving you to understand that he is preparing you for what is coming next.

He abruptly turns you over so that your back is to him while he grabs your hips and lifts your ass, you stand on tiptoe while hiding your face in your hands. Common sense begs you because you still have time, logic tells you that someone could be watching you from afar and that your relationship would be more than an embarrassment to the family, yet it's hard to think about the moment when the thick head brushes your swollen lips in a gentle back and forth.

"Is this okay?" he asks. "Can I fuck you without a condom?"

You can't think. You want to say you're not sure, but a hasty, "Yes," rolls out of you before you can stop it.

You can sense his hesitation in the way his grip weakens around your hips and by how he continues to outline your pussy lips up and down without deciding to thrust even though you are blindly seeking him with your hips.

You call his name, looking back to stare at his body bathed in the dim light; the dark strands obscure his gaze as Suguru just focuses on the image of you open waiting to be taken for him. Even in the absence of light you admire his jaw clench.

"I don't want our first time to be like this," suguru breathes, still not raising his head to look at you. Your brow furrows slightly in both frustration and confusion, after all he's been the one to blame for you getting to this point— your lips parted to complain at the same time his voice fills the place again. "Squeeze your thighs together." He commands back authoritatively without waiting for a no.

You do as he asks. With your eyes straight ahead, you focus on the column in front of you to which you cling for support and amidst the murmur of applause Suguru slides his hard cock in between your thighs after he has spit again.

The sound of his moans are drowned out by the din at close range, his hips thrusting and rubbing desperately against you in search of release. Your whole body feels hot in different places and for different reasons, shame and pleasure are those that stand out the most burning your cheeks and an oppressive sensation cracking your ribs.

The amount of saliva makes the movement fluid, just like a dance in which you help him by pushing your hips back to meet him in that back and forth in perfect unison. This leads him to cum soon, he lifts your dress to spill the ropes of cum on your ass ruining the harmony of your skin, then, still with fingers dirty from his own orgasm suguru pulls you to cling to his chest and from behind drags a hand down your belly to take hold of your pussy once more.

He forces you to look into the room as two of his fingers deep into you and makes you moan, taking care to steal a hard orgasm from you as his kisses make themselves present in your throat and his cum slides very slowly along your ass. His chest heaves with pride knowing that you will spend the rest of the party with his mark on you, as everyone laughs and celebrates a special occasion; his cum would be spilling down the length of your thighs.

He rejoices knowing you had come back to him.

"Meet me in my room at midnight," he whispers in your ear after depositing a tender kiss on your lobe.

[pretty-oooodd]

✂ AND WE'LL DANCE ALONE TO THE TUNE OF YOUR DEATH.

Notes: a little thing I wrote at 3 am instead of sleeping. Better with this song in the background. Remember that English isn't my first language, and I write to improve my skills and for fun!

Characters: Fyodor Dostoevskij, reader.

Genre: angst I guess?

Tw/cw: fem!reader, Fyodor being a bit ooc I think, major character death, fever-dreaming, slightly religious themes.

One step to the right, another one to the left.

Their feet barely touching while the rest of their bodies seemed to merge into one.

Two steps backwards, one forward.

Her head on his chest, her hands one on his shoulder, the other one tightly interlocked with his fingers.

A quick spin.

No words left their mouths, but the beating of his heart alone was enough. Piano notes came from somewhere in that dark ballroom. Only a few, shy, dying candles lit the death-stenched atmosphere.

Fyodor's other hand rested on her hip, guiding her through the soft music.

-You hold me a bit too tightly to be the one that killed me.-

Words sweet like sugar and her kisses, yet sharp as his knives, echoed in the ballroom together with the music. Still, she didn't dare to oppose his touch and he didn't dare to push her away.

-Maybe I regret doing so.-

His breath flew through her silky hair, like a fooling caress made by a way too sly wind.

-I find it hard to believe.-

She chuckled, but her laugh wasn't crystalline like before; her chest didn't tremble like flowers by the wind anymore. She was just clinging to Fyodor's body, like a stiff, lifeless doll.

Was her heart even beating?

Was she even alive?

"No" was the sad truth in a way too tempting reality, in which he didn't stuck too much to his own pride. But he and his pride were one, inseparable and omens of catastrophic events. Still she loved Fyodor dearly, like a devoted follower loves their God; and like a soldier craves war and like a starving hunter craves their prey to fall.

Even though he stuck with his pride, selfishly like a spoiled noble man, Fyodor missed her. He missed her fingertips through his hair and on his body, their skins against each other, her insatiable mind and her soothing voice.

Fyodor had let the house they shared burn and the gorgeous garden she sweetly, intensely cared for became ash, together with the land she was buried in.

The stench of death in that large room was almost like a perfume. The stench of death to Fyodor wasn't the same as everyone else. The one he felt invading his lungs was sweet: it was flowers, the ashes from his cigarette box and her garden, books and freshly washed clothes, rain, tears and despair of a loved one left to rot in a fancy coffin.

He looked up at the ceiling of the ballroom, while he kept on dancing with the imitation his mind had made of his past lover.

And the ceiling looked back at him; millions of eyes, eyes of angels and eyes of demons, eyes from the Heavenly Virtues and the Seven Deadly Sins, and eyes from tarot cards' figures observed his elegant movements. But those eyes looked so much, too much, like hers.

They were judgmental, but he had no fear of those wary stares from statues and painting.

-You are right. Even if it had to be done, I still miss you.-

He looked back down at her hidden figure and pushed her slightly, enough to see her face. She was just as beautiful as he remembered her to be. The light of the candles, barely surviving, traced her facial features just well, perfectly to refresh his memory like sea breeze.

-You are a cruel man. And you are terribly lonely. I took pity on you and I gifted you my heart out of love and devotion for a lonesome man that believes himself to be sent by God.-

Her lips barely moved, her voice was low and sounded heavenly to his ears.

-And I gifted you my heart back, milaya. You took it to your grave. My heart, that was the price I paid to lose you.-

Fyodor raised his hand over her head and made her spin, one, two, three times.

-That's the only thing that consoles my restless soul. My nails are now digging and carving your heart just like you did to mine. But beware that your heart, nor my love, will be enough to save you from your sins and your faults. My tears and care weren't enough to wash the blood off your hands and clothes, and my arms won't be enough to stop demons from dragging you to Hell.-

A candle died completely and he noticed that only two of them were still fighting to light the large room. The music started to fade, sounding distant as if the mysterious pianist was walking away with his instrument.

-I know. Soon I'll reach my goal, and I will rest in the same land were you lie, my dear. I'll make sure to leave my corpse next to yours and my soul to your judgment. Until then, haunt me. Bruise my skin and make me insane, but don't leave me.-

Fyodor spun her around two more times. Another candle faded away like a silent whisper in the night as their dance became more aggressive and the music grew more distant.

She moved her hand from his shoulder to his face, cupping his cheek gently.

-I won't leave you. Maybe I'll even follow you in Hell, who knows... Perhaps loving you was a sin itself.-

He raised his hand again to spun her one last time, but the music abruptly stopped and the last candle gave up to the darkness before he could face her again.

So he woke up, in a puddle of his sweat, a mess of his hair and sheets.

His forehead was hot and his vision blurry, he felt cold and oddly nervous.

Fyodor calmed down his breath and dizziness, and promised to himself that he would bring flowers to her grave and check if she were still in the coffin next time he visited her.

Don't steal, copy or translate my work!

Reblogs and reviews are very much appreciated!!

[lephamquynhnhu]

Panacea

Chapter 4: The last remnant of epics (Second Half)

Dan Feng x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: The reader has a default name, OOC, mentioned blood, violence. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)

Word count: 1k8

Summary: He met you on a drizzling day when hydrangea fully bloomed on its field. Amidst the sea of mild pastel petals, Dan Feng never thought the flowery domain that intertwined your fate was the precise thing withered with you. They said he was a dragon, a hero, a sinner, but never a person with love, hatred, sorrow, or joy like everyone else in this world. However, it was a demi-truth. He committed the cardinal sin because of you.

Note: Do you like...pain?

This is a forgettable story about a kamikaze squad who spotted the perpetual tarnishment in the Yaoqing's military. Their remarkable contributions went silent and fell into oblivion, leaving the dying remnant in the endlessly spiral abyss. When the salvation arrow rode the East wind to land its target, everything crumbled and crumbled; everything went ashes, went ashes.  

In the dead of night, where celestial bodies crown the navy sky, it was supposed to be a tranquil atmosphere, but five vibrant people animatedly boozed en masse. The tangerine bonfire crackled under their shins and ablaze on their features as the spicy alcohol weaved at the collision.

"Bottom-up!" - exclaimed the dark-haired girl who initiated the party. 

While other teammates gulped down the tipsy liqueur, you stared at the glassy liquid glittered in your metal mug at hand motionlessly. Bathing in the moist coastal breeze of May, you concluded your last summer would end sooner or later when considering the length of a grievous journey. Suddenly, a cozy palm lightly tapped your shoulder to prevent the whirled thoughts, his radiant heat effectively anchored in your mind.

"You are spaced out. Are you alright?" - A genuine concern laced in a voice as the flame flickered at those cerulean eyes, and Pumpkin - the gang's hunting dog, snugging its wet nose beside to join your view simultaneously. You merely shook your head to imply no engagement in conversation and drank up the spirit. Huang Yuan possessed a pair of miracle orbs because whenever you sought his irises, they twinkled more than any stars you knew, and their azure hue was far more distant than any sapphire sky. Perhaps that was a manifestation of a young prodigy since things always coursed as he had planned and regularly scored full marks but lost in stealing the neighborhood's guava. It was as if things had just happened yesterday, as if the two of you lay on green grass, watching the kites that rode on the gusts of a windy hill. Huang Yuan chewed a frond of vervain in his mouth with its violet petals wriggled in rhythms. 

"Do you know Aeon Avikili? I wish to follow his path when Denizen of Abundance III ends." - the boy mouthed swiftly after a long silence while his fingers twiddled the string, fluffy bangs tenderly brushed his forehead. In your view, Huang Yuan was a gifted child whose performance was outstanding to his peers in every aspect.

At the time, you wondered why Yuan's kite seemed the highest one that flew skyward despite your tethers sharing the same length. In childhood at a rural orphanage, you two befriended Irene and Zi Wen, who always complained about his fleeting dreams regardless of your camaraderie. Huang Yuan also often asked about your dreams that you quickly dismissed because of the lack of desire for anything. 

Time flew like the kite's swing that year when the four of you enlisted in the military. Being a part of the "Devourers of Abominations'' project may be an honor in exchange for estrangement and isolation. Your team was infamous because of its monstrous potency and extraordinary abilities. People said that twenty elite warriors of Devourers of Abominations were equivalent to the top-notch legion, which possessed a mass devastating force that could destroy a country. But alas, the members eventually were reduced to five due to handling the bloody frontlines and mostly courtesy of their power's shortcomings. They had gone through several commanders since your team served different positions, from marine to pilots, and your interim administrator was Imbibitor Lunae of Luofu. 

The night before arriving on the mainland, you were in charge of a night shift. Generals of Xianzhou declared to end this interminable war at a blockage area called the Reed Hill. It was a wonderful day after another white night to gaze at the silvery moonlit glaring upon the vast sea until dawn. The morning sun flashed with a gentle coral color that rode leaping waves afar, causing a glittering band on the horizon. Sea breezes lifted seagulls' swings hovered around the dewy firmament on the flicker sunrise. 

"I don't like this weather because it usually brings dreadful storms." - stated Jia Xi, who abruptly appeared on the deck with his signature crossed arms. Perhaps it was a bestowed skill of the innated navigator when prophecied through the wind stream. Whatever it was, you expected to see him mounting on white waves to live up to his ideal model. Although forecasting the horrendous future, you could tell a tiny hint of interest that lived in his eyes. Jia Xi seemed unbothered to your response as he added - "Should any contingency occur, you are eligible to shelter at my humble house. Its location is at Luofu beyond the Faery forest." Among the remaining members of Devourers of Abominations, Jia Xi was the oldest person, so he unknowingly ended up with a motherly ethos, and you probably know what he was talking about. As though it was a natural rule, Jia Xi's time nearly lies at the other waist of the hourglass. Those salty winds could not neutralize the laced bitterness in that line; therefore, you considered those words like his will.

You two did not have things to converse on that morning, mainly viewing dawn on the quiet sea. 

As soon as your squad set foot on the mainland and started camping troops, the tricky duo Inrene-Zi Wen spread out and found two superfluities or at least that was your assumption. Zi Wen, who dreamed of being a sublime veterinarian, brought a stray wounded dog, and Irene, who always wanted a photography studio, brought a broken camera from a nearby junkyard. However, much to Zi Wen's dismay, Pumpkin - he named the stray dog - grew a fondness toward you more than anyone else, even if you seldom pat its head. As for the old Polaroid, Irene's effort did not go to waste when the whole of your team heard her thunderous exclamation on a yellowish afternoon. Consequently, the five of you assembled at the Light Sanctuary ruin, or in other words, she technically dragged you out. 

Initially, you insisted on taking the photo and refused to partake in the camera, notwithstanding its automatic system. However, Huang Yuan cleverly draped his arm around your shoulder to prevent you from escaping. As a result, the photo consisted of four teammates grinning joyfully while you reluctantly gave two peace signs toward the camera's lens.

"So, whoever is alive after this incessant war will hold this photo!" - Irene cheerfully beamed and waved the flat thing as printing completed. To your cognition, you saw no point in her high hopes because Devourers of Abominations would vanish after the RPF-910 operation finished. Eventually, the squad elected Captain Huang Yuan to keep the low-quality photograph temporarily since he owned the peak possibility of survival. 

Underneath that artistic afternoon sky, a small smile subconsciously stretched on your lips when they discussed the upcoming supplies. The tricky duo was undoubtedly troublesome, yet you dearly love them, and the last summer. 

"You know what? Only if I close my eyes, I envision our wedding." - The softening whisper of Irene woke you up from the lingering past. At first thought, you surmised she was drunk, yet mischief flashed in Irene's orbs at glimmering ambers. The cheap fireworks exploded in the dark sky that Jia Zi lit, seemingly embroidered on her face. You let out a light chuckle before leading her to swirl around. 

"Say, You want me to be your groom on behalf of Zi Wen instead of a bridesmaid, milady?" - Apparently, her sentence indued with magic since you could fantasize about an exquisite cathedral with a high ceiling, which redolent of white flowers.

"He is an awful dancer. On top of that, a black tuxedo suits you well." 

Despite everything finally evaporating like A Midsummer Night's Dream, it was still one of the most marvelous dreams you have ever had. 

It was abnormal to request an urgent audience with the commander at this hour, but witnessing Imbibitor Lunae still strategizing the diorama was even more shocking. Without further ado, Huang Yuan started.

"Greeting your majesty, I demand a changing position with Vice-captain Bai Lin." Confronting a living legend of the Luofu, he sensed an intangible pressure burdened on his shoulder as Dan Feng's emerald gaze swept through. He comprehended that it was nearly impossible to reallocate the responsibility, yet Huang Yuan daresay his petition to prevent the forthcoming turmoil. 

Every nation has a deadly secret, including Xianzhou Yaoqing. The military had a suicide squad that acquired such limitless strength with tremendously regenerated abilities on battlefields that they called them monsters. And they treated them like monsters.

Ere an excellent doctor who handled the chief researcher chair, he developed an imaginary project according to Yaoqing's order. To give birth to a group of unripped heroes, Doctor Chen Yue Guang opted for numerous juveniles from pilot orphanages and initiated the "Devourers of Abominations" project. In order to attain the desired goal, they conducted the majority of the surgery for modifying those selected living organisms. More specifically, the lead researcher group removed the guinea pigs' spinal cord completely and utilized "Galatic Trace" to become the substitutional function of the mentioned part. "Galatic Trace" merely was a florid term that Chen Yue Guang named, and its intrinsic esse was a derivative of their self-synthesized radioactive substance. Besides, Dr. Chen replaced the experimental organism's heart with a mini reactor to operate the artificial spinal cord properly. However, these were just an abstract of their research project because hundreds of tacit failures remained unlisted. 

As a result, the Devourers of Abominations' warriors acquired incredible strength and unparalleled prowess because they could not sense pain, so they feared nothing. They even possessed constantly regenerated capability, which allowed them to alleviate medical burdens. 

An undead legion true-in-words. 

However, there were also lethal shortcomings to quid pro quo. Firstly, it shrunk the experimental organism's longevity tremendously, and the immortals, or Foxian/Vidyadhara, and similar races manifested a high chance of rejection. Therefore, ordinary people who had the shortest lives even become ephemeral identities. Researchers estimated the average longevity of Devourers of Abominations did not exceed thirty. 

Secondly, those soldiers also heavily depended on inhabitor serum to prevent the post-rejection process and to compress their berserk attribute. Once a member surrendered their sanity to become a berserker whose state was considered a mortal's Mara-Struck. The sole way was to get the Vice-captain to destroy their mini reactor humanely. 

Thirdly, they had to act solitary and minimize communication with other teams at the lowest rate because radioactivity may impact stakeholders. Even though the project's developers claimed Devourers of Abominations did not emit radiation, they needed to wear protective gear in case of inevitable contact with other people. As a consequence, no one ever got a chance to see Devourers' faces. 

Nobody can pinpoint whether Yaoqing's authorities are right or wrong, ethical or inhumane because it is warfare. National benefits are always top priorities.

Notes: It took me too long to complete this chapter, and the whole story might be on a short hiatus due to my thesis. I will attempt to complete Panacea at the quickest speed. Happy New Year to everyone <3

[enigma-imagines]

Just a sweet wholesome art of these two (or rather three) because why not. Witch’s heart is a great game and I honestly love it. Expect more art of it from me in the future!!

Oh! And also, I thought I’d try my hand a lil but of writing, so please enjoy. Apologies if it’s OOC in any way.

“I’ll keep you company while you study!” Claire had said with a bright smile. It was a sweet offer, and while he’d said she would probably find it boring, she still tagged along. He had to give her that.

However, he was only a bit surprised when he felt a weight fall on his shoulder. A head of blue hair ruffled against turquoise fabric. Ashe paused at the soft smile on her face. The similarities just continued to rear their heads. That soft smile brought back far too many memories.

Thinking harder as he tore himself away from the textbook, he realized something.

“Let me keep you company while you read!” Lilia would huff, even as Ashe told her she’d be bored.

It wasn’t exact. No, that would be too much of a coincidence. He frowned for just a second. Tears pushed at his eyes, a long intake of air all it took to clear them. He looked back down at Claire, her face still stuck in a soft smile.

If he scooted just the tiniest inch closer to her, none would be there to see. None but that with golden eyes like his own. She would smile at the two.

He’d found a new family of sorts, she thought. And maybe he would be alright.

Yes. The soul was sure of it. Especially if it meant she would get a sister!

Ashe could swear, for a moment, that he heard a giggle float past his ears. A breeze tickled his face. He shook his head fondly. Just his imagination, Ashe turned back to his book. Claire’s soft snores brought a smile to his face as he turned to a page about blood cells.

She really did make for good company.

[nompunhere]

Impatient (H/ollow K/night Vore Fic(let?))

Just a little thing based on a trope I’ve seen around occasionally. Figured the idea had potential. Thought of it and felt like writing it immediately instead of leaving it to fester in the idea doc like I usually do, so congration, have a thing

Characters: T/iso, O/ro Word Count: 1,465 Warnings/Notes: Teasing, Swearing, O/ro being irritable, T/iso being a bit OOC probably, Safe, Soft, Willing Vore (Half-size). To those who follow me for HK content, I’m sorry it’s all T/iso. It’s all just T/iso. I’m stuck in a hole and it’s mostly full of T/iso. Why is he the blorbo. Why do half of my bug blorbos live in K/ingdom’s E/dge. Why-

Ficlet under the cut

——————————————

Pale ash crackled underfoot as Tiso trudged through the lower tunnels of Kingdom’s Edge. He shivered lightly as a chill breeze blew past. It’d been a while since he’d been down here, and though he was much more prepared for the cold now than he had been on those first few trips through the area, that didn’t mean he had to like it.

As per usual, he was here for one specific purpose: to visit that ornery Nailmaster who pretended to hate his guts while Tiso did the same (just in a more literal sense). He’d been busy for the last couple weeks, unable to make time to come all the way down to the depths of the kingdom, so this visit was desperately needed. ...Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. He just hoped Oro wouldn’t get all testy at him for making him wait so long. The beetle would deny it if asked, saying that the solitude was far better, but Tiso knew he valued these meetings as much as he himself did. They were similar in that way. With a snort, the ant wondered how anyone managed to put up with either of them.

A few minutes and some practiced dodging around the Great Hoppers later, the ant found himself standing before his.. friend? Acquaintance? Mentor? Sworn nemesis? ...Fuck it, he didn’t really have a good word for it—might as well make something up. He stood before his zucchini’s hut, considering how to best make his entrance. He didn’t spend long mulling over it.

“’Sup, asshat?” he announced, shoving aside the curtain that kept out the ash and planting himself firmly in the doorway. His signature greeting was met with a heavy sigh from the big lug in the center of the room, meditating in his usual spot. It was most likely intended to sound exasperated, but Tiso was sure he could detect a hint of relief in there. Maybe even a bit of fondness, though Oro would say he was deluding himself.

“Hmph,” the Nailmaster began, “so you’ve finally decided to grace me with your presen-”

The beetle looked up at him as he spoke, which immediately proved to be a mistake, as he was interrupted not even a moment later by a long, deep, rumbling growl, loud enough to be heard from where Tiso stood halfway across the building. It took a moment to determine what the sound was. He and the larger bug simply stared blankly at each other while they processed what had just happened.

For the ant, it wasn’t too hard to figure out that the sound was a stomach growl, considering his experience with being in close proximity to such noises. He knew enough to pick out that it was a sound of hunger, specifically. He was sure that Oro could deduce as much with ease, considering he was the one feeling it firsthand. The question that truly gave the two pause was ‘Why?’

Oro seemed to get it first, averting his gaze and instead choosing to stare down a nearby vase like it owed him Geo. Tiso took a bit longer. It was like his emotions came to their conclusion before his logic did, with how he could feel a warmth spreading over his face before his brain even caught up to why. He quickly scrubbed the blush away as soon as he realized, silently thanking the gods that the other hadn’t seen.

Welp, the situation had turned awkward, but he could work with this. Just gotta deflect all the awkwardness (and probably piss Oro off in the process), and things would be like normal.

Loudly clearing his throat, the warrior crossed his arms, leaned slyly against the doorframe, and cocked his head just so. “Damn, didn’t realize you’d be that happy to see me. Maybe I would’ve come back sooner. Cutting straight to the chase this time, huh? Looks like someone’s been getting cravings. You really want a piece of this that ba-”

“Just shut up and get over here, whelp, if you’re so certain of what I want,” the Nailmaster growled.

Got ‘em.

Tiso smirked and started to make his way over, unhurried, keeping his pace painfully casual. It was clear how much the other wanted this, if he wasn’t even trying to deny what, or rather, who he hungered for. He might as well make him wait a little longer; make the most of what little leverage he had.

“So that’s all the welcome I get? No pleasantries, no asking where the hells I’ve been, no spar-”

“We can get to that later.” As soon as the ant stepped within range, he was yanked forward by the arm with a stumble and a yelp. Oro quickly set to undoing Tiso’s armor for him, paying no mind to his indignant protests.

“Where’s all that ‘patience’ and ‘discipline’ you Nailmasters are supposed to have,” the warrior complained, rubbing the pain out of his wrist. “Godsdamn.”

“I’ve waited long enough for your scrawny ass to wander back here, whelp. We both knew this was going to happen, hours of meaningless banter first or not.” With that, the last strap of the chestpiece was pulled free, and the whole thing was tossed aside with a clatter. Rolling his eyes, Tiso leaned over to set his shield more gently atop the pile, then straightened up to give Oro a look.

“Still, it’s not very- mmph.”

He had barely opened his mouth before having to shut it again as his head was shoved directly into the other bug’s gaping maw. “Alright then,” he muttered, crossing his arms. Large hands gripped his sides to push him in further. He went mostly limp and let it happen, well used to the process by now. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as the first swallow occurred, pulling his head into that comforting darkness.

As much as he’d whine and snark about it, Tiso didn’t mind being swiftly tucked away in the beetle’s gut as soon as he got there. Or any other time, really. This was practically the only thing he came all the way out here for. He couldn’t honestly say he didn’t enjoy Oro’s company, and all that other sappy stagshit, yada yada, but they both knew this was their mutual favorite part of these visits. With the way it put them so at ease, it was impossible to ignore.

The ant soon found himself sliding into the Nailmaster’s stomach, and absently started to go through the motions of getting situated. Curling forward, he let himself sink until his back was resting on the floor of the cramped space, then waited for his legs to be released from the esophagus before using all four of his freed limbs to scoot himself into a proper sitting position. That done, he nestled himself into the surrounding walls, all his corners and edges—head, shoulders, knees, and tarsi—fitting neatly into the folds he’d grown so accustomed to. All that was left was to relax and let the motions of Oro’s body knead and push and adjust to his presence until both bugs were as comfortable as could be.

Being in a belly was unlike pretty much anything Tiso had experienced. It had a way of slowing him down, soothing him in a way that nothing else could. Hidden away within another’s insides, he felt insignificant, yet important. Invisible to the world, and yet taking up so much space to the one concealing him. It was serene, almost, and though he’d always thought serenity was a bore, it was also a necessity, providing a much-needed place of rest, safe from all the dangers of the world until he regained the energy to face them head on once more.

He’d really needed this after several weeks of helping restore Dirtmouth with hardly any breaks. He hated how it always filled his head with such sickeningly sweet thoughts, weighing down his mind like they were soaked in honey, but it was a small price to pay in exchange for some of the best sleep one could get. And there wasn’t much to do besides sleep, but he’d take it. He’d need it for the customary spar later; had to show off what he’d been practicing and all that.

He felt a pressure come to rest against the middle of his back. He leaned into it, and it dropped away. Right, there was something he could do to pass the time until he dozed off.

He gave the wall a prod. “You know, if you’re ever that desperate to eat me, you could just come hunt me down, ‘stead of waiting like a damn ambush predator. The surface isn’t that hard to get to.”

“Tiso?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the hells up.”

“Nah.”

************************************

Fun Fact for those who don’t know: In some contexts, zucchini is another word for queerplatonic partner. The reason for it is quite similar to why Tiso calls Oro a zucchini at the start c:

I was kinda jokingly waiting for when I’d eventually go a full day without getting any notes before making my next post but people keep finding my blog and I felt like writing so eh

heeeeaaaad, shoulders knees and tarsi, knees and tarsiiiiii, eyes and tympanal organs and mouthparts and antennae, heeeaaad shoulders knees and tarsi, knees and tarsi

Thanks for reading! Feedback is greatly appreciated, and criticism is accepted, so long as it’s constructive/respectful. Asks are open.

————-

DNI NSFW blogs, blogs that post exclusively hard and/or fatal vore, weight gain blogs, proshippers, TERFs, ace exclusionists, etc.

[wolfhollow]

92%. Is your character particularly confident? Does their confidence level change if less people are around?

The white limestone cliffs plunged downward, their upper banks crusted with foliage that trailed in vining swags over the sides. Tjra stood balanced on the very edge, their toes curling into the moss as they looked down and down to where the river sent up plumes of spray around the rocky bottom of the canyon.

"Tjra!" Ljot's voice was stern, but Tjra did not look up. They were focused on the golden bell dangling from a branch some fifteen yalms down. The training tool swung in the morning breeze giving off a cheerful chime here and there as if certain death didn't linger below it.

"Let them try if they want," Valdis said. The ancient witch was seated on a flat stone, and she gestured to Tjra with her cane as the youth ignored the clamor behind them.

"You encourage them too much, Valdis," Ljot protested, but anything else she had to say fell away as Tjra thrust their hands out. Their focus was all on the trial now.

Their carved ash rod swung in a wide arc as they gathered the mist around them, pooling it into an invisible stormcloud. The air stank of ozone, the crackling static of the energy making their hair sizzle with sparks as they gathered it, compressing the storm into a glowing blue prism that shuddered under the force of their control.

They held the crystallized storm until sweat beaded on their brow. Not because they needed to, but because they could, the power aching like sweet fire in their limbs. When it was almost too much they lept, sweeping in an upwards arc as the storm splintered into glowing fragments like daggers.

They seemed to hang there in the air and then their arms snapped out again and the bolts plunged into the abyss. Streaking condensation they crackled in a wide arc and then shattered against the branch, smashing it into pieces.

Alone the tiny gold bell was too heavy, too smooth, to lift with their current skill. Its mass too concentrated. Now it hung from a fulm long segment of branch dressed out in green and gold speckled leaves. As they landed, feet crumbling away a chunk of moss Tjra pulled with all their might, funneling the down draft of their previous spell into a whirlwind that gathered and spat the branch fragments back up the side of the cliff.

The branch with the bell landed at Ljot's feet, its sweet golden sound accompanied by the percussion of the rest of the branch thudding all around them and the sharp cries of Ljot and her initiates.

"They're going to get someone killed," Ljot snarled, but Tjra paid her no mind as they untied the bell and brushed past her to place it in Valdis' hand.

"You could be a little less cocky," Valdis wheezed, but Tjra could see that she was proud even if she wouldn't say so in front of the others. They smiled viciously, but bowed their head anyway. Rubbing their victory in Ljot's fuming face could wait for later.

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

OOC: Arden, or Tjra here with their old forest name, is like 99% confidence, particularly around big groups. At least when it comes to their own abilities. As in this example they can be a real shit about it, though they've also grown up a lot since their early training back home.

Thanks for the ask @mymistymornings !

Ljot and Valdis were named / created by my wife for one of her characters that has some shared background with Arden and I borrowed them for this.

[goldinthemtharhills]

Intro & List

Hello hello! I’m TheSunshineDragon on Ao3! I also occasionally write non-kpop works under WoodElfJedi and post High & Low fics under YukensHairtie. 

List of Works:

Stray Kids

Series:

Domestic Doses (Perpetually Incomplete, Platonic Fluff, Slice of Life, General Shenanigans)

The Wind Under Your Wings (Complete, Danceracha with Wings, Platonic, Wingfics, Sickfics, Hurt/Comfort)

I’ve Got An AU For That (Incomplete, AUs, Platonic Relationships, Little Bit of Everything)

Tell The Wolves I’m Home (Complete, Werewolf/Wolves AU, Platonic Pack Dynamics, Wolf!Minho, Angst, Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort)

Ash & Oak & Thorn (Incomplete, Magic AU, Platonic Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

Let Be What Is, And Be What Isn’t (Incomplete, AUs, Platonic HyunLix)

Yours & Mine (Incomplete, Platonic Soulmate AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection)

Chan the Zookeeper (Incomplete, Shifter AU, Humour/Crack, Hurt/Comfort, Wholesome Vibes Coming Your Way)

The Saga of Chan & His Dragon Menaces (Incomplete, Dragons, Humour/Crack, Magic, Fluff)

The Heart of a Summer Child Born in Spring (Complete, MCD, Terminal Illnesses, Magic AU, Hyunjin-centric, Two versions)

Non-seried Fics:

Threads (One-shot, Based on the I’ll Be Your Man Kingdom Stage, Heavy Angst, Grief/Mourning, Magic, Brotherhood)

Let’s All Die Naturally In A Healthy Way (One-shot, MinChan Fic Fest, Platonic Relationships, Androids, Post-Apocalyptic, Hurt/Comfort)

Broken Glass, Pieced Back (One-shot, Rated M, Platonic MinSung, Vampires, Heavy Angst, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Whump)

The Itsy-Bitsy Spider (Incomplete, Spiderverse AU, Hurt/Comfort, Angst)

Summer Breeze Makes Me Feel Fine (One-shot, Jisung-centric, Sea Monsters, Burn Out, Introspection)

You’re Not A Bet I Care To Take (But I’m Going To Anyways) (One-shot, Platonic ChanLix, Assassins & Hitmen AU, Angst, Found Family)

Attachments Have Consequences (One-shot, Spies & Secret Agents, Inspired by District Nine MV, Light Angst, Found Family)

Stabby Stabby (One-shot, Angst, Jeongin Being an Idiot, Hurt/Comfort) 

Ficlet Collection (2023) (Incomplete)

You May Be Idiots, But You’re My Idiots (Complete, Sickfic, Assassins & Hitmen AU, Minho is a Good Hyung)

The 100-Point Children (Complete, Based on a Tumblr Post, Adoption, Found Family, Hyung-line as Single Parents, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)

An Objective Reply To A Subjective Question (One-shot, Minho & Seungmin-centric, Canon Compliant, Platonic Relationships, Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff)

I’ll Stand Until I Can’t (One-shot, Gang AU, Minho-centric, Miscommunications, Bang Chan Being an Idiot, Heavy Angst)

Into The Thick Of It (One-shot, Magic AU, Toddler!Jilix, Witch Minho, Fluff, Slight Crack)

Blooming Death In These Lungs (One-shot, Platonic Hanahaki, Angst, Minho-centric, Angst With A Happy Ending)

Drowning Without Water (Deadpool AU, MinChan, Platonic Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD)

SKZITZY

The Ferryman (One-shot, Vague Allegory for Death, AU, Grim Reapers, Kid Fic, Angst, Magic, Non-Linear Narrative)

To The Wind I Go (Incomplete, Magic AU, Wendigos, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Found Family, Winter VibesTM)

Money Can’t Buy Class (One-shot, Hyunjin/Yeji, College/University AU, Complicated Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending) 

NCT

Affectionate (One-shot, Doyoung & Taeyong are Best Friends, College/University AU, Emotional Support Best Friends)

Lord of the Rings

Tiny Legolas Causing Chaos ft. Thranduil The Tired Single Dad (Incomplete series, Family Fluff, Kid!Legolas)

Another Pillow Fight (One-shot, Slight Crack, Aragorn and Legolas being idiots)

The 68 Rules of Middle-earth (List-fic, Crack Treated Seriously)

Quit Snoring Already (Slight crack, Dwarves Causing Sleep Problems)

Transformers: Prime

Transformers Prime: Communications (Complete, Crack, slight OOC-ness)

The Field Medic & The Doctor (Complete, Grief/Mourning, PTSD)

Star Wars: Rebels

The Rebels Prank War (Incomplete, Prank Wars, Slight Crack, Humour)

Merlin

A Nice Thing To Have (One-shot, Fluff, Merlin Gets A Hug)

HTTYD

Cotton Candy Spun Clouds (One-shot, PTSD, Light Angst)

High & Low

We’re All A Little Fragile (One-shot, PTSD, Fluff, Light Angst)

Fireworks (One-shot, Fluff, Injuries, Light Angst)

Crashing Down (One-shot, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)

Brother Bear (Little Bear Cub) (One-shot, Modern AU, Angst, Accidental Baby Acquisition) 

Crossovers

Don’t Shoot The Messenger [SVT x High & Low] (Gang AU, Child Abandonment, Mild Hurt/Comfort)

[ikeromantic]

Hi! Congrats on 900! That's so awesome :) I love how you set this up too! It's very original and creative. I would like to request:

Ikemen Sengoku Yoshimoto (I know there's no route and I'm okay with OOC potential), Soul,Hawthorne, Erato

Thank you! I may come back with more ❤

Hehe thanks ^_^ I wanted to do something unusual and thought this might be a fun set up. So! On to the prompt - Yoshimoto, Soul, Hawthorne - defense, and Erato - beauty. Approx. 500 words

Yoshimoto held her hand as they walked through the forest. Her fingers lay lightly against his palm. He’d never given much credence to ideas of fate or destiny, to soulmates, but in her presence he felt he could believe there was such a force at work. How else to explain their meeting? It was an impossibility, yet here they were.

“You’re staring again,” she murmured, lowering her eyes to stare at the ground.

“It is hard to tear my eyes from your gentle beauty. But I am sorry to make you uncomfortable.” He looked away, letting his eyes go to their surroundings. The forest around them was alive with birdsong, the trees and bushes heavy with spring growth. “Ah, look there! Tsubaki in bloom.” 

She looked up and smiled. “They are so pretty! I thought you could only find these in gardens.”

“They can be cultivated,” he nodded, “but there are none so lovely or sweet as those that grow wild.” His warm gaze left no doubt of his intent.

“You -” she cleared her throat. “I don’t know why you keep saying such nice things about me. I really am just . . . ordinary. Plain.” She gestured to herself. “I don’t want you to think I’m special now and be disappointed later.” 

Yoshimoto trailed a finger along the edge of her jaw, stopping under her chin. “It is true, what they say. The blossom does not know its own beauty.” He wanted to kiss her. His lips ached for want of that touch, but he denied them. She deserved so much more than a fallen lord. His hand fell away.

She smiled, pleased but blushing from the compliment. Then she took a step toward the camellia bush, reaching for one of the flowers.

There was barely a heartbeat of warning. The slightest gleam of an obsidian eye. A motion in the dappled shadows. Yoshimoto’s fan darted forward, a flash of color, the gleam of metal. Then the impact. 

A serpent drew back, stunned from the impact. Eyes like smoke-dark glass watched them warily. 

“A snake,” she gasped, drawing her hand to her chest.

Yoshimoto nodded. “As I defend my exquisite flower, so he defends his.” He took her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. “You are safe. But we shouldn’t test his patience. Let’s go.”

Her trembling subsided and she gave a nod. 

They walked in silence for a time, holding hands. He felt as if his soul joined to hers where their skin touched. 

She watched him, watching her. 

Yoshimoto tried to look elsewhere. He did not wish to make her uncomfortable. But she drew his eye with her graceful movements, with the soft shimmer of her hair in the afternoon light, with the slight pressure of her hand in his. 

She stopped as they reached the edge of the forest trail. “Yoshimoto?”

“Yes?”

Her eyes held a fey gleam. She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. A kiss, as light as the breeze, sweet as honey. 

Yoshimoto felt a fire sweep through him at that gentle touch. The smoldering coals of his heart, an organ he’d believed scorched to ash, burst alight. 

[tsume-awase]

hey can rose and dolcetto stop being so FUCKING cute? my doctor said i have to watch my blood sugar intake, please it’s dangerous i don’t have much ti

[versadies]

how they spend valentine’s day alone. | genshin x gn!reader

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ YOU HAVE RECEIVED A LETTER, LET’S SEE WHAT’S INSIDE! ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

salutations. HOW THEY SPEND VALENTINE’S DAY ALONE (part one)

addressed. zhongli, tartaglia, diluc, kaeya, xiao (w/ gn!reader)

content. angst/no-comfort, hints of major character death, mentions of alcohol intoxication, ooc (?), spoilers to kaeya and diluc’s backstory, there’s nothing fluffy here at all :>>

synopsis. how they spend valentine’s day alone and come back to their heartbroken state when they’re reminded that you’re no longer here with them.

word count. 300-400+ each

penpals. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @renamichii @chiruru (visit my taglist info if you're interested to join !)

post-script. i did say i was itching to write some angst for valentine’s day 🤣🤣🤣 watch out for more angst next week w/ kazuha, scaramouche, albedo, and genshin women <<3 !

links. requests info | navigation

it’s the way zhongli sits across an empty chair in the third-round knockout restaurant when he realizes that he’s no longer going to spend a day as special as valentine’s day with you. sure, it felt like everything’s the same as he goes by his day with his job and hobbies, but it feels…. lonely.

he pays no mind to how the iron-tongue tian glances at his direction with sad eyes, knowing what happened between you and him. after all, the storyteller witnessed the entire fight back then as he awkwardly continues to recite a story both you and zhongli didn’t bother listening to anymore.

he didn’t even know why this happened – everything was all a blur to him. it was supposed to be a good date for you and him to make up for lost time, only to end up arguing about something he never bothered to remember and ending up with you leaving.

it was strange to say the least. the retired archon was used to the welcoming arms of loneliness for so many years, but now it’s all new and uncomfortable, as if a part of him has disappeared.

perhaps spending so many years with you has affected him in both good and bad ways.

you’re one of the reasons why he started thinking about retiring from his duties as an archon and liyue’s protector. the times when he used to disguise himself as a human in every lantern rite and sneak off to spend time with you was one of the funnest things he had ever done for all his life.

but now, all the things he wanted to do with you for the rest of your lives are gone to ashes, all because of something he could’ve prevented.

“i would like to order the dragon-beard noodles with.. what would you like for lunch, y/–” ah right, you’re no longer here with him.

the server zhongli’s talking to cleared his throat, pretending to not hear the slipped words that came out from the consultant’s mouth. “perhaps you’d like our new dish that you might like, good sir?”

he stays silent, staring at where you used to sit for a few minutes.

he took a deep breath and replied with a soft tone, “..that would be lovely.”

it’s the way childe walks around the freezing region of dragonspine when he finally accepts the fact that you’re no longer with him anymore. the cold breeze that passes by doesn’t remind him of his beloved homeland, but reminds him of the cold gaze you gave him before walking away from his life for good.

it doesn’t feel the same without your usual complaints and random comments filling his ears, to feel victorious after battles alone, to look around the battlefield and not see you fighting – even staying in his home doesn’t feel the same without you. everything he does, you’re always there with him.

that’s why he decides to take a day-off on valentine’s day and visit dragonspine, a place where you and he frequently come to whenever you feel homesick. it may not be an ideal date on a day such as valentine’s, but he knows you’d love it if you found out his plan for the occasion: a small lake where it’s just you and him ice fishing and cook all the fishes with a nice warm campfire when you caught enough – just like the old times when you used to go ice fishing with him and his father in morepesok.

he stares down at the locket that has a picture of you and him together during your first lantern rite with a kamera that you bought from a traveling merchant. since when was the last time he ever felt so alive after you left?

childe concluded that there wasn’t. the only feeling that’s closest to being alive is when he’s with his family – who he seldom sees due to his duties as a harbinger.

he couldn’t bear to tell his dearest siblings that you’re no longer with him, causing his heartbreak to grow worse whenever tonia mentions your name in her letters, telling him that he should bring you back to snezhnaya so they can see you again.

but how can he ever tell them that you’re gone? how can he have the courage to tell them that he let the best thing that ever happened to him slip from his fingers, knowing that the smiles plastered on their faces will soon fade away?

suddenly, his thoughts are caught off when he notices a frostarm lawachurl waking up from its nap nearby, instantly noticing the harbinger’s presence.

childe takes a deep breath before summoning his double blades, eyes narrowed at the lawachurl, who readies itself for its last battle.

it’s the way diluc wakes up to an empty spot of his once-shared bed when he knew that this is his life from now on, alone without you in his arms. it felt like it was an instinct of his to reach out to where you are on the bed, to make sure that you’re still here with him sleeping soundly. but you weren’t there. you’re no longer here with him because of how he never realized what he has until it’s gone in his reach.

for a day as important as this, he had never felt so lonely.

he’s familiar with loneliness and grievance, but he had never thought it’d come back this soon. he should’ve paid attention to you more, he should’ve consider your feelings and not neglected you, he should’ve take more breaks and–

it doesn’t matter anymore. you’re gone.

there’ll no longer be a day when he gets to wake up and see you preparing breakfast by the kitchen despite the staff’s protests and panics, a day when dawn winery used to be lively and loud that’s filled with laughter and love, a day where there’s someone who’s waiting for him to come home from his patrols–

and a day that has you.

diluc’s aware of the words that the maids would whisper to each other, about how it’s weird and a pity that you’re no longer in the mansion, but he decides to pay no mind to it. he couldn’t blame them for missing you and feel like the place is missing.

no matter how much furniture and people reside in dawn winery, it still feels empty to the master. all there is in the place is loneliness and silence.

he finds himself staring at items that are on display in certain shops that he passes by when walking around the city towards his tavern. how would you react if he gives you those things as a valentine’s day gift if you were still together? he wonders, before looking away and continues his stroll.

for the first time, kaeya actually learned not to bother him on the same night, knowing how much valentine’s day meant a lot to diluc. it feels like celestia pitied his life, because there were no traces of the abyss on the same night as well. perhaps.. this is a sign that he should get back home early.

so he did. he slowly walked towards his home with a heavy heart, his thoughts flooded with you. he’s been through like this before, so why can’t he do the same with you? if only he could bring retribution to those who had wronged you – but there was no one he could fight against. not when it’s something like the illness that you had.

“happy… anniversary, y/n.”

it’s the way kaeya looks to his right to see no one sitting beside him in angel’s share when the permanent smile that’s been on his face for so long broke down into a smaller one.

it’s no lie to both citizens and the knights alike that you and kaeya were known as the inseparable partners-of-crime. one would often find you two always together either by the tavern, the streets, or outside doing missions together. so it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when it was revealed that the both of you were dating.

which is why it didn’t make him feel better when almost every single person he encounters would give him a sad look in their eyes, reminding him of how you’re no longer here with him as both his lover and best friend, how he always looks at his right side to see no one at all, how he had almost mentioned your name for so many times, or how there was no one for him to banter and tease with.

why did you have to leave him here? you can’t just make yourself become one of the most important people he cares and trusts and just leave him like that.

he feels jealousy towards those who are celebrating valentine’s day with their loved ones while he doesn’t have anyone to celebrate with anymore. despite putting up a facade that he’s alright without you, rosaria, venti, and diluc knew all too well that he isn’t. not when his facade immediately drops when he drank too much wine, lying down on the counter face-down as his arms protectively hides his sorry face, ranting about how you shouldn’t have never left him alone to suffer.

perhaps this was his punishment for being a traitor to mondstadt and to diluc, who’s silent throughout the whole night during his stay in the tavern.

rosaria slowly rubs the calvary captain’s back as an attempt in comforting him, her other hand holds her drink that she didn’t bother finishing fast due to the pity she felt towards him. she may not have experienced what it’s like to have a lover, but she knew you and respected you in ways she never gave to anyone else.

when will valentine’s day be over for this poor guy? she thought to herself, ignoring the way some people clinked their drinks together and cheered out “HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!” to each other nearby.

by the end of the night, kaeya stands in front of his mirror with a dull look, his eyepatch no longer on his face.

he takes a deep breath and accepts the last company in his life; loneliness.

“happy valentine’s day, y/n.”

it’s the way he doesn’t hear the sounds of your footsteps towards the balcony of the wangshu inn when xiao knew that he’ll never get to spend valentine’s day with you nor hear you calling his name ever again. in all of his years, it could never compare to the one year where you’re by his side as his first and last lover.

he often looks down at the top balcony of the wangshu inn whenever he hears footsteps coming, his heart beating fast in anticipation and hope. it immediately died when it was just another curious customer wanting to enjoy the beautiful view that you once loved.

he should’ve listened to his thoughts when you walked away, not knowing that it was the last time he would ever see you again.

you promised that you would come back and spend valentine’s day with him so he could experience such a romantic day for the first time – so why? why did you have to go away so soon when you promised something that’ll never happen?

the yaksha tried his best to be unbothered by the special day, ignoring couples strolling around the inn and other environments as he pushed his heartbroken state aside, busying himself by hunting corrupted monsters and killing them.

no matter how much he fought and how busy he became, the feeling of missing you was still there like a gum. he found himself standing in front of pervases’s temple, thinking of the times when you helped wang ping’an in rebuilding the broken temple despite not liking the man for what he did as starsnatcher back then.

he also found himself staring at his almond tofu that smiley yanxiao made just for him. your words about how eating with others makes food all the more tastier must be true, because the dessert doesn’t taste the same as it was when you were sitting beside him eating your favorite meal as well.

by the time he retreats to the highest floor of the inn, he could only stare at the view of the night sky with a longing look on his face. if you were still with him, what would you say about the stars that shine above? would you have taken him somewhere higher and star-gaze together for valentine’s?

he doesn’t know how to celebrate valentine’s day alone. and he doesn’t think he will ever know.

[cryptic-ashes]

(Briefly poking my head in to inform everyone that I only now found out that Death Mark 2 released and I literally have to keep from screaming because it's 12 am here)

[admiringlove]

[ii] hurtful things

+synopsis: genshin boys and the hurtful things they said.

+genre: angst; headcanons.

+characters: xiao; venti; kazuha; albedo.

+warnings: crying; venti a little ooc.

+author’s note: an anon requested a second part to this series with added fluff and i said okay but excluding the fluff. yes, i’m mean :) 

+navigation: main menu, genshin menu.

— XIAO.

“it would be best if we went our separate ways.”

your eyes stare back at him as he stands atop the balcony, staring off into the distance. your body trembles as xiao turns his back to you, cool wind extinguishing the flame in your heart. you stop after taking one step toward him, as if you were scared that he would do something. anything. 

but he stays there; his feet glued to the floor and his hands resting on the wooden railing as he looks over the lands surrounding wangshu inn, his butterscotch eyes not averting off the landscape even once. his face is devoid of any emotion, and he remains there without looking back at you like he's done hundreds of times before. 

he doesn't look back at you this time, he doesn't give you the faintest smile—the one that's the prettiest on his rose-tinted lips, and it usually comes with a certain fond look blended into his eyes. his aegean hair still continues to flow in the breeze like it always did, it's just not being ruffled by your fingers. 

"x-xiao..?" you call out. your voice stammering in a mix of fear and sadness, a very cowering purple. you couldn't point out a certain emotion that you could've felt in this moment. till this moment, it was always xiao and you against the world—an adeptus who was known as the 'conqueror of demons', and a mere human who was interested in the yaksha. never once were you anything more, and in this very moment, as you stand alone, you realize that. a stray tear falls from your eye as you struggle to form words, "xiao."

his name is all you can muster out. you don't have the courage or confidence for more. you don't ask him a question, nor do you say something that would lead to agitation and spilled words that hurt like spears going through your limbs. instead, all you can say is his name and hope to the archons that he looks back at you once again. what happened to the faint smile he always gave off? and the blooming feeling in your heart? why were the smiles replaced by harsh wind and why was the feeling in your heart still there, even if he didn't have it anymore? it was like your own body betrayed you as you stood behind him, waiting to respond to you. sighing, you try once again, but a little more sternly this time, "xiao, i-"

"whatever you're thinking is probably right," he says in return, "never once was there anything between you and me. after all, i'm an adeptus—i've sworn to protect the realm and you? you're just a human that's always around me like a pest."

"that's not true and you know it," you croak, inhaling a sharp breath as you step once more towards him. he's so close to you, but he's still millions of miles far away. you don't know what happened—or how, really. one day, everything was fine, and then slowly, day-by-day, everything you cherished was in ashes. 

"it would be best if we went our seperate ways," he mumbles. you could've sworn you heard him wrong until what you wished for finally unfolds in front of your eyes. he looks back at you, emerald hair flowing in the wind like a wave crashing ashore. his eyes are as cold as the highest mountain in dragonspine, and his lips part in a way that feels like he's looking down on you with disgust. he continues now, "don't you think?"

you sigh, a dolorous smile overflowing your emotions. looking up at the yaksha, your tears finally fall freely. of course, this doesn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes widen, but you slowly step back before he can say anything. he stood there with a broken heart of his own, wondering if it's all worth it in reality—the safety of the world will always outweigh his joy, wouldn't it?

— VENTI.

“don’t you understand? i want to be left alone.”

he stands there, in the middle of the night, on top of starsnatch cliff as he looks out to the skies. his eyes are empty like they always are, and somehow, the wind makes his braids swirl along as he lets out a deep breath.

"i knew you'd be here," he hears a voice behind him and as he turns around, he sees you standing there with a dim expression. he almost groans as he turns back around, leaving you with a hollow heart. you continue, "venti, you can't just disappear for days on end and expect me to be okay with it."

"i like to be alone from time to time," he mumbles. his eyes continue looking up at the velvet sky, dots tinkering the sky at every angle. he sighs, and you can't tell if it's of disappointment or relief. you walk up to him as the wind picks up, and try to reconcile, "i-i brought wine just in case?"

"i don't want it. please, just go home. i'll be back soon," he replies. now you know that the sigh was of distress, and not of relief. you narrow your eyes at him as you begin again, "i'm not going without you."

"don't you understand? i want to be left alone," he groans, finally meeting your eyes. the usual blue-green doe eyes that stared back at you with glee and jollity and now a navy-rimmed hue of anger. you step back a bit, nodding bitterly as you gulp. walking away, you feel his eyes on you—but this time, you couldn't tell if it was anger or sadness that consumed him. your body trembled as you walked the streets of monstadt; eyes roaming around and reminiscing all the memories that you and venti shared through these streets.

maybe it was best if you left him alone for a while—maybe even forever.

— KAZUHA.

“you’re being an inconvenience.”

you freeze when you hear him say those words in an eerily calm tone. everything around you seems to come to a complete and sudden halt and the air becomes harder to breathe. your eyes want to search his but before you can comprehend it you're walking away, and it's like your feet are working on their own as you leave, going faster and faster until you can't hear his calls behind you. 

you're alone, and you feel a sort of cold emotion surround you as you finally let out your tears, sobbing as you try to muffle them by putting a hand over your mouth. your eyes look out over the sea in front of you, the ocean almost blending in with the blue sky over the horizon as your shoulders quiver. your tears fall into the waves crashing beneath your teeth, mixing in with the salty water as they do. 

it's over. you know it, and you're sure he does too—because everything feels wrong now. as you voice your concerns, he's always calm and providing temporary solutions to your problems until it burst like a high-pitched sound hindering glass, and it's like a dam breaking apart slowly as the water finally crashes through.

your eyes close as the salty wind flows, the scent almost overwhelming you as memories of kazuha replay in your mind. you could never understand how he remained calm even in the most stressful situations, and you guess maybe that's why you fell for him in the first place. his calm demeanor, his gentle smile, and his doe eyes. 

he sees you around town sometimes. he’s conflicted, heartbroken, maybe even a bit agitated, but he didn't have it in himself to inscribe any of these morose sentiments towards you. even when you’re entirely void of any inkling of nostalgia of him, he looks at you with nothing but ardor. when your eyes finally fall on him, his small smile is the same as it always is, almost alarmingly so. he looks away after a split second, remembering his exact words to you; it makes his blood boil, even if he looks calm on the outside.

he thinks the same calmness that has helped him the most as a fighter was also the same thing that severed all your ties with him—and he also realizes that he couldn't be more right about anything else in his life.

— ALBEDO.

“why can’t you do better?”

"i'm sorry," you mumble, "i was only trying to get you to rest. i meant no harm."

he doesn't fume out—archons no, his anger is more like a silent and deadly snake. hiding and camouflaging in the bushes until the prey has finally let down their walls so he can infuse his venom in. he's eerily calm on the outside even if there's an enraged storm brewing on the inside. his eyes tend to dart around the room instead of looking straight at you; he's afraid he'll scare you, or even worse, hurt you. but he still can't help but let the tiniest of the irritation seep through the core to the mantle and then burst out via the crust.

"you ruined my experiment," he speaks, emphasizing the word 'my'. you look disappointed in yourself, he notes. but you should, because you messed up his research in his absence, even if it was an attempt to help him succeed. you try to grasp at your words, like a newborn trying to cling to an adult's hair, and finally, you reply, "i was only trying to help, albedo. not everyone is as well-versed in alchemy as you are."

he's taken aback by your response. not in a good way, though(even if you had intended it to be). the core in him bubbles a bit more, oozing out to the mantle as the crust begins to prepare itself for the incoming burst. you continue alone with your words, "you needed rest. you just came back from dragonspine that day and immediately got to work, what was i supposed to do? let you tire yourself out even more in the office?"

he bites his tongue in his mouth in irritation, knowing you're right but still wanting to go against you just this time. the anger from his core has the lithosphere cracking bit-by-bit now, trickling through in the most deceitful way possible. he shakes his head while letting out a tired groan, but then he says things he knows he doesn't mean but isn't able to stop himself, "do you ever consider another field?"

"i'm sorry, what?"

"you're not getting any better at alchemy than you were years ago. come on, this was a simple equation and an easy solution for you to solve," he mocks, cocking his head to the side as he continues, "why can't you do better?"

"a-albedo, that was hurtful," you protest, stammering as you take a step back towards the door. he scoffs, "i meant it. you should either put in more hours or just quit."

you almost gasp, but painfully nod as you walk away from his office. taking longer strides than you usually do, you ignore the cries of klee who asks for albedo behind you. you do hear his voice right before you slam the door of the knights of favonius' headquarters, trying to create as much distance as you can from him.

he sighs as klee asks where you had gone. maybe he'd done one thing right now—you wouldn't get hurt anymore if he loses control.

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© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[thenyxsky]

HELL’S EMBRACE. ( 1 )

a dsmp!dream x fem!reader au.

SUMMARY: dreams occur during temporary death; it seems even a god cannot escape a puppeteer.

WARNINGS: written by someone who hasn’t watched mcyt in a longass time; somewhat rushed; potentially ooc dsmp!dream; mentions of dsmp!dream's manipulative tendencies; mentions of death + potentially more.

WORD COUNT: 1.3k words, 7.5k characters

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

this was lowkey reminiscent of a techno oneshot i wrote back in wattpad :0 ppl who've read my wp mcyt book yk what i’m talking ab >:)

speaking of,, if you’re new i don’t usually write mcyt! i left the fandom a while ago :) i only wrote this for the nostalgia and @sushisoot‘s dsmp writing event! (prompt: when you asked me for help, i didn’t think you meant it like this. yes i'm well aware the quote isn't in this part yet.) this is probably going to become a series because . i cannot find it in me to finish an 8k word oneshot rn i’m sorry LMAO

hope u guys enjoy regardless though!

✧ BACK TO MASTERLIST

They say that when you dance with Death, she is warm. Not in the sense of warm hands or warm skin, but rather warm smiles that remind you of your lover’s coat embracing you in the winter, or a goodnight kiss ghosting over your forehead. It is an empty warmth, a bittersweet gentleness that is reminiscent of partings where you don’t know when you’ll meet again (in a year? In a decade? Or perhaps in a century, when your ashes mix together, a union in the frigid breeze.) or whether you will meet again at all. A sense of nostalgia as her hands, thick and calloused from wielding her infamous scythe, land on your waist, and you are whisked away to picnics beneath the soft spring sun and a hearty meal shared between close friends.

But then, as you part for a spin, you feel the air go stale. The music slows, the vinyl crackles, and there is something about the slight downturn of her lips that makes your heart clench in your chest. Death turns sour. Death, so suddenly, turns cold. Death does not catch you when you expect her to, when you are spinning on your heels—instead, she mouths something you cannot catch. She is frowning. You trip over your feet, you crash into the floor—

(Goodbye, Death whispers.)

—and as you wake from her temporary hold, hands scrabbling at your bedsheets, you cannot help but think of Death, who had stood and watched as you’d fallen back to the land of the living.

You cannot help but think that she had looked so terribly alone.

✧

Death, in her earliest moments, is warm. (Kiss your lover goodnight beneath the moonlight and watch them fade into the shadow; pick the dried grapes from your best friend's plate because you know they hate them; tuck a lavender from when you’d danced in the fields between the pages of your book and watch it crumble; this is the warmth she emits.)

It is Death in her later moments that is cold.

No longer does she smile, soft and empty and bittersweet all at the same time. Instead, she looks on with an air of indifference, eyes narrowed and hands folded, that has you wondering if you had done her any wrong. Death in her later moments is so full of sorrow and anger and everything wrong in the world that you cannot help but apologise when her grief-stricken focus lands on you. (Angered sobs of a heartbroken lover into a pillow; faded pictures torn into two haphazardly pieced together by shaky hands; you cannot help but be so sad on their behalf, to cry because they cannot afford to; this is the cold that she emits.)

Though Dream has always thought himself lucky, he is no fool to think he will be so forever. Fight a hundred wars, gain a dozen scars. Thin the emotions of friends until you can use them as you wish (Puppet strings. That’s what people call them, yes? They are his marionettes, and he is the puppeteer. What a foolish puppeteer he’s been as well, assuming they will hang limp from his hands forever), threading them between your fingers, and soon enough they will come back to bite you—they wrap around your neck and suddenly you are choking on guilt and sin and the silent curses of those you’ve wronged.

Dream is lucky, yes, but luck runs dry sooner or later.

How unfortunate that his basin of Fortuna runs empty when he visits Death.

✧

Today, Death is cold.

“Mortal,” she greets. For a moment, he wonders if the wet tracks that draw past her flushed cheeks are old or new. The shine of silver tears lining the bottom of her eyes answers his musings. Despite this revelation, Dream finds that her voice remains steady, calm. “What do you need this time?”

His brow arches. “I can’t just visit you because I want to?”

She purses her lips. Dream imagines it’s because she’s holding back a sigh. “I doubt you would risk a precious, mortal life just to visit someone like me. As much as I would like to believe it so, people like you don’t often do favors out of the kindness of their hearts. So?” Death narrows her eyes at him beneath the veil that disguises the planes of her face. (She wears a mask just as he does. Does she know how alike they are, in the grand scheme of things?) “What is it you want this time?”

This time, Dream is the one who refrains from sighing. Gods never have been too patient (gods never have been too understanding), and Death is no exception. Perhaps, once upon a time, she could have been. (Patient, understanding. Kind. Almost mortal-like, if you dream a little harder.) But this is no fairy tale, and she is not a villain who yearns for redemption. This is real life, and she is a god who sits upon a throne so far into the heavens that he cannot touch it, even if he dedicates his entire life to trying. And Dream has a feeling that she won’t be stepping off of it any time soon.

“A favor,” he finally answers.

Her face is as expressionless as ever.

“A favor,” she says slowly, as if testing the flavor of his words. Dream wonders, for a moment, if she finds them bitter or salty—sour or sweet. How she interprets them will decide his fate, after all. “You ask for a favor?”

He nods. “Yes.”

“So soon after the last?”

“I need it right now.”

A bitter—but amused—chuckle slips past her lips. (Is that how his words tasted to her?) “You’re really that desperate?”

Dream decides to swallow his pride. It’s of no use right now, anyway. “Yes.”

“Interesting,” is all she says, before her lips press together and silence descends upon them. It stretches on for far too long—Dream would’ve been unnerved by the unnaturally long pause, if not for the fact he was used to such things with people like her. (Gods, a voice in his head hisses.)

He moves to say something, but she beats him to it.

“Is it a want, or a need?”

Dream blinks. “What?”

“This... favor you ask me for”—the way she says it almost makes Dream regret going there—“is it a want or a need?”

He swallows his pride again. “I—I told you I needed it.”

“Do you really?” Despite the fabric shadow that stretches across her face, Dream catches the glint in her eyes. It’s cold, and so bright it shines past her veil. It also sends shivers up his spine. “Or is your greed speaking on your behalf again?”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t forget the favors you owe me, Dream. You think it’s slipped my mind? You dared trick a god once, but that was with Fortuna’s assistance, and even then you barely managed to come out unscathed.” The scar across his back stings with phantom pain. “You think you can get away with it again?” When he remains silent, she scoffs. “The arrogance of mortals never fails to astound me.”

“This isn’t arrogance,” he protests, but his throat is dry (from—what, anxiety?) and his voice comes out hoarse as a result. Oh, how weak he sounds. It's almost pitiful. “And it’s not greed, either. I really do need it.”

“Do you truly?”

“Yes.”

She sighs. “What a shame, then.”

It takes a moment for her words to register. And when they do, Dream doesn’t think he’s ever felt so terrified.

“What?”

Death merely clicks her tongue. “You should’ve thought ahead, Dream. Mortals who think they are gods always climb the highest. They fall the furthest, too, and you are no exception.” Her body begins to disperse into black smoke; Dream feels as if he’s floating. No—flying. He curses. He should’ve known it would have gone this way.

“Come back when you’ve fulfilled your end of our deal,” Death’s voice says as he melts into shadow. “Maybe then I will consider making you another one.”

Her words echo in his mind as he bolt up in his bed. His puppeteer hands scrabble for the sheets. He thinks of her veiled face; the face of Death. The face of a god.

She does not seem so lonely anymore.

it is cold. death is cold.

and now, dream is doomed to live in her frigid winter forever.

[soraavalon]

DM: So you all walk through this shimmering air, it feels for a moment the ground drops from under your feet and your stomach kind of flips before suddenly there is solid earth under for your feet again. You step through a portal that looks like this *inserts picture of a curved tree with a portal* into a verdant wood and you all enter the Feywild; the subject of many songs and stories, not all of them happy nor heroic.

DM: A world of dreams and chaos and ruled by the powerful whims and emotions of the mighty fey who call this place home. An ever-shifting fun house mirror of the Material Plane, full of dangers and delights in equal measure. For some of you, it the most unbelievably beautiful place you have ever seen in your lives, for some of you, it is home. The sky is a clear blue with soft white clouds that almost look too perfect floating from horizon to horizon. The forest around you is verdant with life, golden sunlight flickering through pale green leaves and mushrooms and wildflowers growing amongst the roots of the ancient elms and oaks and ashes. The air is balmy, warm but cut with a soft breeze and a welcome change from the deep mid-winter you left behind in Amberhelm. Every color around you looks hyper-saturated, so beautiful that it is almost too much to bear, almost unsettling to behold. Rymer does a head count, he is in the guise of his highwayman persona, down the glinting eyes that shine crimson in the afternoon sun; He is the perfect archetype of a wicked and handsome rogue. And all of you, apart from Jeremiah, are glamoured emerging into this storybook world as characters that would be at home in its timeless pages.

DM: So, what are you all wearing?

Jeremiah (OOC): I look exactly the fucking same.

DM: Yes. Let's start with Hunt

Hunt (OOC): Oh.

DM: And go in order of how you are on my screen.

Hunt (OOC): Oh no. Okay.

Jeremiah (OOC): Do you want me to go first just so you don't feel bad?

Hunt (OOC): I can do it. I just don't have the confidence on how good it'll look.

DM: That's okay.

Hunt: First noticable thing is that Hunt's hair, which is usually kept tame but still it's wiry self is now more curled than it usually is and there are stray bits of white highlights. The raven feather in hair becomes a little more voluminous or poofy, the pearl earrings are transformed into elven ear cuffs. For the outfit, on her is a hooded blue cloak, it's kind of one of those double cloaks where there's the mini capelet and then the rest but in shades of blue that is black near the bottom but is more light near the top, and where the hood is is a pure white decorated with a veil. Along the edges of the cloak are colors of terrain greenish browns with canine paw prints walking up towards the hood and somewhere in the blue of cloak there's a crustacean hidden somewhere in that sea. (OOC): That's where the Moon tarot came in.

DM: [in chat] Lobsters!

Hunt: The outfit underneath is a really billowy white shirt that goes to the mid-thigh and is belted along with it is a corset decorated with blue-black raven feathers, her sleeves also has feathers coming out of it. Off white tights and finally a vibrant blue asymetrical skirt that has turqoise ruffles and outlined in gold.

DM: Oh. I love it so much.

Hunt (OOC): *while muted* thank you.

DM: Tark, would you like to go next?

Nathaniel (OOC): [in chat] holy shit brit *heart eyes*

Tark: Mine's not gonna be as good as that, but so

DM: Started strong.

Tark (OOC): I already showed the picture of what he's wearing. (IC): Nothing else really changes for him except he has his hair pinned up with a little bee brooch and that's about it.

DM: Would you like to go Jeremiah? Describe your outfit or is it pretty much the same thing but more saturated?

Jeremiah: Yeah, he's literally wearing the same shit.

DM: Okay. Eudora.

Eudora: Okay so Eudora has gone kind of Greek, so I don't know what precise term for this kind of outfit, but it's like this *inserts pic of a pink Grecian gown* but the colors are different, so it's in a sort of this bright flame orange with, it's not solid orange, it's like it's been dip dyed so there's some yellow and some red mixed in and she also has a cape that is white with intricately embroidered vines and leaves and fruits and flowers. Her hair is not it's usual kind of constrained updo, it's more like *inserts pic of a type of hair taping* Its similar to this style, but a little bit looser, but it does have the ribben woven through it and she's wearing in addition to the ribbon kind of a tiara in gold with a topaz in the center. Otherwise gold, bold bangles and layers of gold jewelry. And yeah, that's Eudora's outfit.

DM: I love it so much. Nathaniel.

Nathaniel: Nathaniel's waistcoat is bright red, but he's wearing a tailcoat over it in a shade closer to burgundy and it is embroidered with golden brass thread that it looks like clockwork, but is very reminiscent of his clockwork arm, as if he were clockwork himself. His hair is shot through with brass and the right lense of his glasses are etched with a rose that takes up the full circle.

DM: Oh my god! I love when you guys do stuff with your hair it's so neat! And last, but never least, Marigold.

Marigold: So Mary was originally wearing a Regency teal tailcoat that sort of elongated and have these points at the end and the sleeves have sort of become like a robe and sort of slit to here *points to shoulder* and open so you can see the puffy white shirt underneath. And where there was the embroidered flowers and stuff on there, they've started to, the actual flowers started to bloom and stuff and it's kind of shifting and moving. His hair has a rose gold tone to it and he's got a matching waistcoat underneath and with little floral buns.

DM: You all step through as Rymer's counting, you can all see you've been transfigured into these fairy tale characters basically.

Eudora: You all look so pretty!

Jeremiah: Yowie wowie!

DM: Everyone looks pretty.

[tobiosmilktea]

Hello! I really love your writing and I just saw your requests are open yay 👏🏻 So my idea is that the reader (female or neutral, as you prefer it) is a third year who takes art lessons as an extracurricular subject or something and the teacher ask their students to draw posters of the sport teams, and the reader got the volleyball team. The thing is the reader knows the third years but they're not really close, so they talk just a bit. (Part 1)

paint the clouds — tendou satori

4.7k words | genre/s: fluff | warning/s: possible ooc on everyone tbh | pairing: tendou x f!reader

↪︎ in which you painted a muse who always wanted you too

a/n: definitely not my best work and im super sorry for that, but i hope you still enjoy it 👉🏻👈🏻

a warm spring breeze blew strands of your hair in front of your face, laying against your rosy cheeks as you watched the horizon. the bright yellow sun teased the sky with hues of pink and orange, bound to mix into the darkness of the sunset. school had ended a few hours ago and now you were sitting in your art club waiting for your teacher to dismiss you. she was in a middle of a spiel explaining your next art project, but your brain struggled to follow.

your hand ached from drawing for hours, your wrist tender from constant pressure, and now you could’ve sworn you were going to get carpal tunnel sooner or later. it was worth it, anyway, you were doing what you liked doing as you honestly felt being an artist was your only talent. it was merely the only thing you focused on besides your academics. dating was certainly out of the question.

instead, you watched the birds fly past the open classroom window as your teacher explained the assignment something along the lines doing sports teams posters.

“i will be walking around the classroom with a box filled with names of sports clubs,” the teacher starts, pulling you out of your train of thought as your attention was finally set on her. “you will pick a random piece of paper from the box and that will be the sports team you will be making a club poster for.”

whispers erupted in the room as others verbalized which team they wished to get.

“i hope i get the volleyball team, they’re literally iconic.” you heard one girl say.

another voice exclaimed, “drawing the equestrian team sounds super fun too!”

the murmurs continued to the buzz even after the majority of the class had already picked out their sports team from the box. you were the last one to choose as you opted to sit in the back of the class.

“and last but not least,” said your teacher as she serpentine through the desks towards your sitting figure.

your hand dug into the small cardboard box only to feel one last piece of paper. you wanted to scoff slightly, but you stopped yourself the moment you grabbed the last slip of paper and read the messy handwriting. it took you a good second to even understand what it said as it was complete chicken scratch (no offense to the teacher).

“(y/n), what did you get?” your friend who sat in front of you turned with a smile on her face.

"i got the volleyball club,” you answered, eyes widening when your friend gasped.

“that’s literally the best one to get! i’m so jealous,” she sighed as if she just inhaled a rose scented breeze.

perhaps you were lucky to get such a sought after sports team as your main focus for the assignment, but you couldn’t help but feel an overbearing weight suddenly falling upon your shoulders. shiratorizawa’s volleyball team was the epitome of the academy. they were the ones who brought a significant name to the school with only the smartest of intellects but one with the best athletes. depending on how well you created this poster could potentially make or break your reputation. it was a visual representation of the team, anything less than iconic would dig a deeper hole for you.

it certainly doesn’t help the fact that you actually had to talk to the volleyball team now that you were in charge of their school poster. you internally groaned. you barely interacted with the third years, let alone being completely enamored over a familiar red-head.

your after school activities had ended in the midst of your running train of thoughts as you absentmindedly gathered your things and walked out of the classroom. you gripped the handle of your bag as you strolled through the near-empty hallways of the academy, your mind in a complete spiral as you had already tried visualizing what the end product might look like.

it was common knowledge to everyone who had known about you was well aware how amazing you were at art. no matter what medium you were given, you were known to be the girl who had magical hands that could create even the most beautiful things out of ash and smoke. you had this some innate, almost magical ability to have others stop in their tracks just to admire your works.

perhaps that you were too caught up in your own thoughts and the hypnotic tapping rhythm of your loafers clicking against the school floors that you hadn’t even notice your arrival towards the gym.

even the loud shouts of volleyball players from the ongoing practice wasn’t enough to pull your gaze away from the ground and towards the flying volleyball hurdling towards you.

“(y/l/n), watch out!” you heard a familiar voice shout out, immediately pulling you out of your own jungle-like psyche and into the real world.

everything had happened so quickly, all you knew was a blur fly past you to retrieve the ball before it knocked out of conscious. semi eita quickly turned to you, his figure greatly towering over you as he gave you a reassuring smile. “are you okay, (y/l/n)?”

you gulped, nodding almost too quickly. “yeah, i’m okay.”

“good,” he mutters as his brows slightly furrow in confusion. there was a thin blanket of awkwardness hovering above both of your heads as you both stood there in silence for a good five seconds—five seconds too long that is. “so what brings you here?” he finally breaks it, scratching the back of his head in the mean time.

right, you had almost forgotten why you were here in the first place.

“it’s about the art club, we’re doing sports team posters and i was wondering if i could talk to the third years for ideas.” you asked gently.

semi’s eyes immediately widened, the already prevalent smile on his face only increased at the statement. “that’s cool! come with me, i’ll show you to them.” he quickly motioned you to come inside the gym, feeling the brisk air difference of the air conditioned gymnasium to the warm spring breeze outside.

a shiver flowed down your back. not from the sudden influx of cold air surrounding your body, but the fact that towering volleyball players and their ever-so-intimidating nature causing nervous habits to take over you. soekawa jin, the vice captain of the team quickly flickered a look towards you before tapping ushijima’s arm for his attention. turning to see what his teammate wanted, soekawa swiftly pointed at you and semi approaching.

“it’s a surprise seeing you here, (y/l/n).” ushijima greets you in his deep, guttural voice. it caused you to gulp nervously, struggling to even put on the tiniest of smiles as you meekly muttered a ‘hi’ to the rest of the third years. however, it seemed as if the one you were most familiar with was not in sight. it did seem a tad bit quiet in the gym now that the practice game was on a time out.

“um,” one of the wing spikers approached you, ohira reon was it? “sorry for almost hitting you, by the way.”

you swiftly shook your head, “no, it’s okay. i was the one who wasn’t playing attention, so that’s on me.” 

“so, you’re here for the poster?” ushijima cut into it like a sharp knife, bold and straight to the point.

“yeah, um, i just stopped by to ask if you guys had anything ideal you want to see on your club poster.” your voice was softer than you hoped it would be when you spoke. 

eyebrows furrowing, ushijima glances among his teammates as provocation for an option saturated his hums of curiosity. 

semi then clears his throat, “we’re not really sure if we have any input for you, (y/n). besides, i think your poster will be amazing nevertheless.”

“that’s still a lot of pressure,” you mutter, “considering i would be mauled to death if this poster isn’t amazing.” sarcasm drenched your words like saccharine, hoping that the tall athletes would at least get your banter and share a laugh with you.

but they didn’t. instead, they stared with wide eyes at you in a mere worrying glance. perhaps the joke didn’t exactly translate well.

god, this is so awkward.

however, it wasn’t like you were exactly lying. as the face of shiratorizawa academy, you were aware that they needed to look good and if it were any less than that, you might never see the light of day ever again. not to mention you always liked adding twists to your artwork, which was technically the only reason why you were so infamously known to have such amazing works. but in the past half hour, you’ve came to the conclusion that it possibly isn’t the best option in this case.

“i’m kidding, by the way,” you let out a light huff.

“well, if it helps you in any way, you could always focus on ushijima as he is our ace.” soekawa cuts in, patting the captain’s back the moment he braided his arms over each other.

any form of leftover conversation (or lack thereof) was sliced—cut off from the sudden opening of the gymnasium doors and the (quite obnoxiously) loud middle blocker. tendou satori entered the giant gym with a bright beaming face of glimmering lights and cherries. tendou was perhaps one of the first people to talk to you the moment you entered this academy, eyes glazed in a honey-like optimism with every bright ‘hello.’ you always tended to be the quiet and secluded one in your classes with him despite being known to be infamously sardonic, you seemed to be the only one to which his overly comic ways of banter didn’t annoy you like it did with others. he, himself, was a sunray, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to expose that thought as your eyes fall onto the approaching boy.

out of all the third year volleyball players, you and tendou had talked the most, yet considering you two as more than just mere acquaintances was a bit of a reach.

“yo!” the redhead’s loud voice thundered throughout the gym and you could already feel it echo within your heart.

“you’re back,” mused ohira with his hands on his hips. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” tendou says, fixing the loosened athlete’s tape over his fingers. “but the school nurse was already gone by the time i got there, so i had to fix myself up—oh hey, (y/n)!” he had cut himself off the moment his eyes fell upon yours.

your breath had hitched the moment he greeted you. it was as if your heart had immediately jumped into your throat and prevented you from even muttering a word as you can already feel your palms getting clammy. “hey,” you mutter almost in a whisper.

“so what are you doing here?” questioned tendou as his eyes suddenly widen the moment the words came out of his mouth, “uh-that sounded really rude, um—i actually meant that in the nicest way possible, by the way.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his sudden burst of scattered thoughts, noticing a faint flush of pink upon his cheeks. 

“she’s here for the club poster,” ushijima answers in your place as you seemed to not answer even after a beat had passed.

“oh nice! i’m sure it’ll look really cool!” the middle blocker grinned at you to which a sudden wave of monarch butterflies attacked your gut. you could even feel the heat coursing through your cheeks and all the way to the tips of your ears until they were as red as tendou’s hair.

“hopefully,” you modestly commented, eyes then falling upon tendou’s wrapped wrist and couldn’t help but be filled with curiosity. “what happened to  you?”

the middle blocker shook his head dismissively. “i tried blocking one of ushijima’s spikes again, but as you know, it is a bit impossible and i ended up hurting myself. it’s no biggie, though.” he shrugs.

“t-that’s amazing.” you breathed out before you could catch yourself. and you swore, you saw the light pink hues of blush upon tendou’s face had darkened.

how cool, you thought with the stars in your eyes. the thought was a bit controversial, but you couldn’t but find tendou satori cooler than ushijima at that very moment. the fact that he knew very well how difficult and painful it was to block his spikes, tendou still attempted it to the point at the cusp of being injured. you began fiddling with your fingers for far too long as you’ve come to realize how long you were standing there for no more reason. you mentally face palmed as you cleared your throat, “anyway, if you guys do have any preferred ideas let me know before friday.”

before the boys could even say a proper goodbye, your legs were already carrying you towards the exits of the gymnasium as if it was running on autopilot. she did hear their shouts of good lucks from across the room as your long strides pushed you to quickly leave.

why was i so awkward for?

in retrospect, perhaps you were more nervous than you thought. it had been an entire week since you had received the assignment to create a club poster for the volleyball team and there hadn’t been a night filled with peaceful sleep. instead, they were brimming with 2am moments of inspired antics. working on the large poster filled you with nothing but utter confidence even after it was finished, but now that you were actually at school with the rolled up poster of the incredible volleyball team, you couldn’t help but feel waves of reluctance and insecurity.

it was always like this with you. where everything was fine and your confidence within your works were expected, but the moment you did have to present such things, you couldn’t help but think of what you should’ve done differently. you assumed that you could’ve improved your mixed media skills by a little bit as there wasn’t much you could’ve done either way in that murky little head of yours that obviously lacked sleep.

the hallways of shiratorizawa were still pretty empty as it was still quite early in the morning. most of the students were outside anyway, so you quickly took this chance to unroll the large poster. taking some push-pins from the side pocket of your school bag, you hung the poster up in it’s place. 

you breathed out one last sigh of ichor before picking up your bag and walking away from the masterpiece.

throughout the entire day, you had come across dozens of stares of others as you walked through the hallways, bringing your endless sea of nerves to heighten until you were dragged upon its tides. there were whispers everywhere. they were probably talking about your poster for the volleyball club and immediately you felt drowned in sorrow.

within a snap, had already thought of the worse possible outcomes that others were talking about how terrible of a job you did. perhaps that leap of faith, that tiny step out of the box when creating your poster was too much of a risk that you ended up falling to your own demise.

“(y/n)!” a voice called from behind you.

turning over your shoulder, you saw a familiar redhead making his way towards you in a bright amble. you immediately felt your heart drop as you whip your head back around and started to walk away. 

shit, shit shit. you thought, tendou was definitely not the first person you wanted to talk to you when the possibilities of what he had to say to you was tangling in your psyche. as if they were tangled vines yearning to be untangled for his closure and yet, you refused.

your shoes clicked rapidly against the floors of the school when suddenly your wrist was pulled back, turning towards his familiar tall figure.

your direct gaze was on his chest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up upon his eyes. you couldn’t, at least. as if you were, your face would resemble something similar to a tomato.

“listen, tendou.” you muttered, still not attempting to meet his gaze. “i’m kind of late for class, but if you want talk later then we can—”

“no, i want to talk now,” he stated seriously, almost too seriously as it caused you to look up to him in surprise.

your mouth gaped to say something, yet nothing seemed to come out.

“i just wanted to say thanks for the poster.” tendou says as his breath almost hitched from the mere sight of you. he could recall the rushing feeling of blood coursing towards his cheeks and ears the moment he stepped upon school grounds and saw your poster. there his painted figure was, stood more prominently than the rest of his team. it was as if he needed the taste of sweet-tongued cough syrup just to ease his aching cheeks from smiling so hard.

the feeling was amazing. that from the smallest little action of you focusing on him rather than what he thought was going to be ushijima (like always) it was you who chose him. the loud middle blocker over the incredible ace of shiratorizawa. he knew validation wasn’t everything, and yet, his immense feeling of being at the top of the world certainly didn't help the fact that he had always been in love with you. you and tendou had the same class each and every year, that each first day of school, he would always sit giddily at his desk just so he could watch your angelic figure walk in.

in spite of it all, from his loud and upfront nature, he could never bring himself to even talk to you everyday besides an occasional ‘good morning’ whenever you would walk in. perhaps seeing this poster of himself was a little push into the deep end—to finally grow the guts to spill his unspoken epiphanies of built up feelings for once.

“usually, it’s ushijima who’s the face of the shiratorizawa team, but it’s nice seeing a change.” continued the middle blocker on the cusp of rambling, “i really didn’t expect you to focus it on me though, so that was a surprise... which by the way,” he hesitates as if he was do embarrassed to even ask. “why did you choose me?”

you pursed your lips the moment your breath was snatched from your lungs. “um,” you sighed, your mind speedily trying to come up with a plausible answer—something other than perhaps inevitably revealing you feelings for him, “i just think you’re really cool.” was all you could come up with and quite honestly, you wanted to face palm yourself for how stupid it probably sounded.

but to tendou, it was an absolute godsend. his heart thumped rapidly against his rib cage as his cheeks reddened into crimson wine. he didn’t know what else to say afterwards as that was his final push. it was then the idea popped inside his mind. a cheeky smile melted upon his lips as he patted your head gently.

“you’re an amazing artist, (y/n).” he complimented, amused by the fact he was the one who caused your reddening face before turning his heel and waving, “see you tomorrow!”

“u-uh, see you?” you stammered over his sudden departure, briefly waving before hold your hand to your chest. you felt as if your heart was to inevitably combust at the sudden overflow of ardor and vehemence of tendou satori’s actions. 

a sigh left your peachy lips, why am i feeling like this?

tendou could’ve sworn he had enough time to make it back to practice before stirring up any suspicions from his team, but the unfortunate tides have come across and drenched him in ill-fate—all gross and sticky.

ever since seeing your poster of him the day before, the thought of you had been on the middle blocker’s mind enough that even ushijima noticed his change in demeanor.

“what’s up with him?” the captain asked semi as they watched the redhead stumble into the gym.

“i think it’s about (y/l/n),” he answers in a hushed voice in case the disorganized tendou somehow heard. “he’s been in love with her since first year and seeing the poster of him is finally forcing him to make a move.”

ushijima refrained from chuckling, “so all it took was a poster with him as the center instead of me?”

“yeah, pretty much.” says semi.

tendou had been non-stop running back and forth between his classroom, the gym, and the art room after that burst of serendipitous ideas clouded his brain until it was all he could focus on. he had already missed the beginning of practice just so he could do something special for you for when he does muster up the courage to confess.

it was something along the lines of returning the favor of what you did to him, but he was well aware of the fact that he was a volleyball player for a reason and not an artist. honestly, most of the work was done with the help of you friend from the art club to which she basically did the drawing and tendou just colored it in. however he liked to think that it was the thought that counted, either way.

“sorry i’m late,” the missing middle blocker finally appeared. he was trying to catch his breathe as he rested his arms upon his bent knees. perhaps he quite disliked how gigantic the shiratorizawa campus was when it came to this. “i had to take care of something.”

ushijima gave semi an amused look before hardening his gaze on tendou, he tried not to laugh as he cleared his throat to hide that fact. “what’s more important than volleyball practice?” perhaps in the ace’s rarity, he was in the mood to tease the guy. “a girl?”

and immediately, the look on tendou’s face—of complete and utter fear that his captain would potentially punish him with extra conditioning was going to be the death of him—was instead replaced with chuckles him ushijima and semi.

“i’ll leave you off the hook as this was your first time missing a practice, not to mention you missed it for a girl you’ve liked for three years now.” said ushijima surprisingly out of character, than even he found himself shocked by saying it. “but if you miss another practice for (y/l/n), you’ll have extra conditioning everyday before and after school.”

tendou nods rapidly, “yessir!”

the rest of the day was filled with the sound of firm volleyballs being hit and slapped across the gym before falling to the floors with a coupled thud.

and despite trying his very hardest to focus his mind upon the practice game, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander to you in your bright enormity. his mind was on you, and yet he was playing the game harder than ever with each and every block he endured. perhaps it was the nerves, the aching adrenaline that flowed through his veins at the mere thought of  confessing to you by the time practice ended fueled his fire.

even if this was just a practice game against his own teammates, he was going to win for you and leave the gym with a confident aura enough to give him the guts to walk up to you.

the thing is, the game had already ended before he knew it. his side of the court had won and reached 25 points before he could even blink with the fact that he was in a ready stance even after the whistle had been blown.

“tendou,” ushijima called out to the redhead. “good luck.”

with that, the middle blocker’s head had cleared as he gave a smile to the setter. he walked over his bag, snatching it up and over his shoulder as he grabbed the rolled up poster within his clammy hands.

god, i’m was nervous. he thought to himself as he walked out of that gym.

the loud, boisterous guffaws from the rest of his teammates faded and echoed into oblivion as he walked the opposite way from everyone else. as the rest were going home, it was him who was on his was to your classroom. he had heard from your friend that you had cleaning duties today after school and it was the perfect time to just swallow his pride and just say.

but his actions were definitely faster than his thoughts as he had impulsively slammed the classroom door open without thinking.

you had thrown a shocked glance at the redhead at the sudden harsh action as he had thrown an embarrassed smile at you. chuckling at that adorable look on his face, you quickly set you mop aside. “tendou? what are you doing here? is your practice over already?”

the redhead nods, “yeah, just a couple minutes ago—um, i-uh just wanted to uh—”

he sighed frustratingly. this was the first time that the tendou satori—the third year infamously known for his innate way of speaking to others in such bright confidence for once, had his tongue tied. the reason why was obvious. it was because of you and your beaming eyes and that godforsaken smile of yours that made him go utterly crazy.

he was still trying to find the right words to say when your gaze fell upon the rolled up poster within his shaking hands. “what’s this?” you asked innocently as your hand reached for the poster and took it out of his hands without much force.

“w-wait! that’s—!”

you unrolled the poster, honey glazed your irises as your mouth gaped slightly.

it was you. a painting of you sitting under one of the large trees on one of the campus’s courtyards, sketching who knows what along with tendou’s large handwriting sprayed at the top:

WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME, (Y/N)?

you breath was snatched out of your throat as you flickered your widened eyes up to him. red and pink hues adored tendou’s cheeks and ears, scratching the back of his head as his chestnut eyes refused to meet yours. if he were to look at you then and there, he would immediately melt into a puddle of blossoming cherries.

“did you make this for me?” you asked gently, still absolutely moonstruck at the poster. it was a simple painting that was definitely not drawn entirely by tendou as you could tell your friend had something to do with it, but you couldn’t help but be absolutely astonished that he even went out his way for this. “i love it,” you whispered, capturing tendou’s attention.

“y-you do?” the redhead huffs in disbelief.

tendou was closer to you, more than you were comfortable with, but you didn’t fight it off. you didn’t bother giving a little space between you two. “i was serious when i always thought you were cool. you were the only one out of that group of popular kids to talk to me and was actually nice about it.” you suddenly professed. your consciousness mentally slapped you over and over again from the embarrassment of saying such a thing. and yet, the signal in her mind didn’t releasse itself until the moment you felt your eyes fall upon tendou’s chamomile lips. and to your peachy ones, did tendou even dare to think of the impossible, of the serenity that filled them under your blushing cheeks,

“i really like you, (y/n)... and i have for a while now.” he muttered.

you bit your lip at the sudden downpour of feelings that you didn’t even notice yourself clutching and perhaps accidentally crumpling the poster he made. “me too,” you said in a mere whisper, your gaze flickering back down to the floor. “and to answer your question... yes, i will go out with you, tendou.”

the redhead felt his breath hitch in his throat, pausing with his eyes almost wide and doe-like when he looked at you underneath the last rays of the setting sun. he let’s out a bright chuckle, “cool.” he attempted to act casually only to break the moment he found your embrace.

you gently laughed as it muffled within his chest, “cool.” you repeated.