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sleep-0-deprived · 7 days

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HEYYY I CAN REQUEST KITSUNE!DAZAI WITH TOP!SUB!READER, WITH BREEDING KINK AND WITH A BIT OF FOREPLAY, AMAB OF COURSE (PLEASE KITSUNE DAZAI HAS BEEN LEAVING IN MY MIND RENT FREE AND THERE ISN'T ENOUGH KITSUNE DAZAI BLOGS)

Desperation ~

Kitstune dazai x dom bottom male reader

Female aligned dni and Mdni this is an 18+ only blog with nsfw below the cut

A/N edited omg your right there aren’t hardly any kistune dazai fics and him with breeding! I think we have the same mind there anyway enough with my rant hope you enjoy I just saw I did your request backwards I’m so sorry bout that!

Mating season, it was something dazai knew all too well and he absolutely loved and hated it all together, he hated feeling the desperation to breed between his legs but god did you love breeding you although to his disappointment he could never knock you up? But oh well he’ll keep trying!

So here he was under you gasping and whining “pleasee I need to be inside you baby!~” begging as his cock twitches in your hand while stroking his hard cock as it drips pre cum all over your hand making a sticky mess as his tail wags his ears laying flat “you need to breed huh? Wanna stuff me already?”

You ask as your hand finds its way to his shaft while he try’s to fuck his cock into your fist making his cock pulse as your grip “yes! Mhm needa fill you up baby please let me stuff your hole—“

dazai groans and pounces on you pleading as his cock slips from your hand twitching as haunt your thigh as he begs with his tail swaying.

“So tempting dazai? You’re always so needy when it’s mating season….” Rolling your eyes as you push him on his back on your bed with his head against the head board as you undo your pants slipping your boxers off leaving your cock springing hard up against your stomach.

“N-no baby please don’t want you to ride me~! I wanna fuck you this time I wanna mount you wanna be on top pleasee~!” He pleaded looking up at you as he lays rock hard with his cock hard and needy for your attention “hm? What’s that? Maybe I should let you just this once since your being so good dazai!”

Giggling as you nod allowing him to be on top of you fucking you as you lay on your chest letting your ass stay raised up as you turn your head guiding his cock to your ass as your rim puckers around his tip making his thighs tremble his ears laying flat.

He lays on top of you whining like some lost puppy as he shoved his cock inside you letting your walls clench and suck around his cock all warm as your rim stretches wide adjusting to him.

“Baby please please! Needa move my hips!” Dazai drools in your ear kissing and licking your neck all over from behind trembling to keep his hips from moving as he fights the urge to start fucking you like a rabbit with his tail twitching and flicking at the end.

“You can move dazai~” you nod with a small moan as he holds your hips tightly digging his nails into you without wasting a second he starts pounding into you capping and putting right into your ear making you grip hold of the bed sheets tight “thank you! thank you baby I love you so much!~”

dazai drools out all high on sex pollen as he thrusts snapping his hips rapidly making your ass cheeks red as he holds you his arms around you moving from your hips starting to thrust as his cock jumps his tip leaking hard inside your ass stretching you out as he nails your prostate making you roll your eyes back.

“That’s good dazai~ keep goin just like that~” you whine out as you bite on the bed sheets drooling going numb to the pleasure beneath the horny kitsune knowing he was always so erratic moving his hips so fast fucking you desperately.

Dazai keeps gripping you like a possession about to be ripped away as his kistune senses flair up in his head not thinking anything except “must breed” as he fucks you nibbling on the back of your neck as he lays on your back mounting you making your bed creak.

“Gonna make you so full~ carrying my litter tummy bloated please let me please~!” Dazai slips one hand off your hip gripping your ass cheek tightly rubbing circles pinching it making your rim stretch wide for his girth.

“your gonna cum aren’t you dazai?~” you moan out feeling his tip twitching and the stutter in his hips feeling yourself close as he nails your prostate making your own cock jump in arousal dripping your own pre cum on the not so pristine sheets.

“Mh hmm~ m gonna cu—“ before he can whine out the rest of his words he gasps gripping your skin tight drooling on the back of your neck shoving himself as deep inside you he can go as he hits your deepest parts cumming staining your insides white as it rubs against your prostate just right all the sensations building up pushing you over the edge to as your cock tip drips a few more beads of pre cum before cumming all over the bed sheets with thick white ropes spitting out messily making you gasp trembling with your hands balled up in the sheets arching your back.

“Y-yes dazai!~” you manage to muster out as you feel your body full your ass stuffed full of his cum making it bloat slightly from receiving your fill but that doesn’t stop dazai, he’s too far loopy and needy only being able to think about breeding you not accepting the fact your a human man nope! You just need more cum that’s all? And he’ll gladly supply you with it!

“Need be bred more~ “dazai purrs out his ears drooping low on his head as he lays on top of you still buried deep inside you mounting you as you lay beneath him still stuffed full while his hips stutter and start fucking you again whining his pupils all dilated gripping your hips bruising them as your ass clenched around him abused and overstimulated easily from being stretched open for so long.

“That’s it dazai~!” You groan dropping your head in the bed sheets as his tail wags rapidly and his hands tremble as ropes of his cum get pumped in and out of you coating his shaft as he fucks you harder pounding your prostate with his body filled with the desperation and the need to breed you to knock you up to give you a litter. Wanting to impregnate you with kits needing you to be the mommy for them despite you being a man.

His brain is clouded in a lust filled fog irrationally imagining you pregnant as he keeps pumping his hips already close to cumming again as he licks the back of your neck trying to coat you in his scent as your mouth goes agape your eyes rolled back blabbering incoherient moans.

“Close ~ “groaning out as your cock pulses hard again with your second orgasm crashing over you like a wave while he fucks you through it leaving your ears ringing as your load spills all over the messy sheets only further staining them with your load as the room is filled with sticky sounds and the squelching of your now wet ass pumped with cum as he twitches inside you when your walls tighten around him.

“Needa breed you more~” dazai rambles drunkenly in your ear gasping as sweat coats his thin body as he lays on top of you snapping his hips harder as his cock pulses Cumming for the second time as his hips stutter pressing as deep as he can trying to make sure not a drop of him is wasted.

“O oh ng~ more cum~” he purrs out drooling on the back of your neck with his fluffy ears laying flat on his head with his tail swaying behind him as he holds still in you with your stomach full swelling slightly as his cum oozes out around his cum obviously over filled but dazai can’t stop now! That’s only two load? You need more to get pregnant right? Well he’ll just have to keep going til your pregnant then!

#bsd x male reader #bsd x reader #dazai x male reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu #x male reader #x male reader smut #sub male reader #bottom male reader #cw breeding #kistune #mlm ns/fw #gay mlm #mating season #x dom male reader #x dom bottom male reader #x dom reader #sub character #top character

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kurosstuff · 2 months

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✨ multiplying like rabbits isn't a phrase for no reason

Could i make an NSFW request of Lute trying to keep up with her bunny girlfriend during mating season? And lute surprisingly outlasts reader's stamina (being a lieutenant must mean you have some good stamina is all I'm saying 🤷).

Basically them just going at it like rabbits (pun, see what I did there? haha- ok I'll stop) until reader gets tired and overstimulated.

G!p lute again- I'm on a one single mind for smut for her- if that makes sense

There is a skip in the fic- I literally couldn't figure out what to write

Warning(s): gp! Lute, smut. More smut then usual brief riding(VERY short)- unprotected sex, Mating season- lute is mean(she mocks/teases you), talks of safe word, not much of a plot just smut

Lute x Bunny!f!reader: do it like bunnys~

Lute is tired.

She doesn't know why you- her beloved bunny girlfriend- her mate. Has been even more clingy and cuddly lately- she doesn't mind no. Not at all. But- she doesn't understand why you have-

How you've been kissing her nonstop all day- on her lap- humming, she pulled her phone out after you wandered off after yet again another make-out session. Typing in her phone she smirks.

Mating season~

That explains it. Why you have been behaving like this. Closing her phone, she followed you "Bunny ~?" She purred, waiting for you to turn to her."may I have another kiss~?" Didn't even hesitate- nor take long for you to be all up on her kissing her. Smirking, she knelt down, moaning into your mouth, easily picking you up nipping at your lips she hummed wings flapping as she carried you to your shared room

"you know~"

Looking up at her curiously, she smirked, kissing you deeply, sitting on the bed. "If you wanted some... help with your season~ I wouldn't mind helping" grinding up against you making you feel her tent

Nodding "fuck~ Please Lute ~ i.. I need you~" smirking unzipping her pants pulling her cock out

"come on then~" she smirked, growling. "sit~ take me, yeah?" Rubbing her tip on your entrance watching you eagerly grind against her whining loudly tearfully

Pushing her cock into you all the way didn't take long for you to eagerly bounce on her wrapping your arms around her neck as you rode her- desperately "God acting like I haven't fucked you in your season before~" she moaned holding your waist panting softly pounding up into you "God just like that baby~ doing so good~" watching you ride her eagerly- desperately

"Lute~ baby~, please~" you begged tearfully, kissing her deeply, aching despite being stuffed with her cock. Being bred- but you wanted it in another way- and she knew it. So she waited. Until you broke. Which didn't take long at all. "Fuck me~? Take me~?"

Smirking, flipping you onto your back, moving into you groaning "yeah~?" Purring out hands on your waist pounding her cock roughly into you panting heavily "just wanting to be fucked that bad huh? My good girl wanna be filled~?" Seeing you nod in agreement mewling under her loudly made her eyes blown.

After the many rounds, you slumped under her content, grinning up at her happily, making her hum rubbing your sides gently. "My good girl doing ok~?" Lute purred out watching you nod before she hum softly leaning to kiss your ear gently

"Wh- wait! Hold on -" you yelped, moaning tearfully, feeling her move inside you again, making you groan panting under her "too much!"

"Hold on?" Lute huffed out pounding deeper into you not caring how you gushed of the many rounds of cum she spilled into you- making you milk her completely dry "oh no no~ it's mating season. So that's what I'm doing. Mating my mate~ my lover. Ensuring you take all my cum~ my seed~" she groaned, holding your waist, panting heavily groaning moving to kiss you deeply swallowing your weak protests

Wrapping your legs around her waist, smirking, feeling them shake, "Can't handle a single season~? A love making ~?" She teased groaning out flushed before slowing down humming "if you truly wanna stop." She starred, making you look at back at her

"Say your safe word"

You flushed, looking up at her - knowing even if she was rock hard. Inside you still- even despite her urges to help you on your mating season. If you said it- she'd stop no matter what. Would take care of you. No matter what, putting you and your comfort above hers.

Shows how much of a good mate she is

Shaking your head up at her, your ears twitching wrapping your arms around her neck, kissing her deeply, making her smirk, "let me take care of you one last time~? Then.. I'll stop for the night ~?" Slowly moving into you, she hummed Grunting, seeing you nod she smirked.

Holding the bed roughly pounding into you moaning out, not even breaking a sweat. "Guess my training came in handling in other places, huh?" She joked smirking at how fucked out you were

Laughing softly pounding faster into you smirking "fuck your just gushing of me aren't you~?" She purred seeing you nod sobbing out clinging to thr sheets under you both ignoring how the bed cracked more then before

"Really gonna f-fuck me hard enough to break another bed?" You choked out making her nod panting wildly humping against you eagerly making you cum around her cock calling out her name loudly flushed arching your back against the bed

"Cumming that fast?' She teased groaning heavily shoving herself deep inside you releasing inside you. Making you milk her completely dry as she painting your walls white. "Not surpised~" she panted softly "just can't help but be sensitive huh?" Rubbing your waist gently frowning seeing how you whined tearfully

"N-no more~"

Humming, she nodded, pulling out. "No more, baby~ lets rest ok~?" Watching how you gushed of her release inside you.

So out of it you didn't even notice her cleaning you up until she curled around you, praising you

Gently practically purring against you "rest my bunny~ gonna keep at this all season long~" she smirked watching how you turned red

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #MONSTER AU

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bonefall · 4 months

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Is there a list of all the jobs the cats can have?

I gotta make a whole thingie on this but here's a short list of the new job expansions, as a quick summary before I get around to it;

All heads of the patrol expansions report to the deputy. Patrol expansions also have apprentice chores that need to be carried out-- like dishwashing for Kitchen Patrol.

Official Jobs: Tasks that a cat can volunteer for or be assigned to for the day.

Kitchen Patrol Tasked with preparing meals. This includes processing prey from carcass to meat, making all the cats feel as full as possible on the food they have on-paw, and general preservation. NEW Position: Head of Kitchen. Oversees these operations, ensures fair ration distribution, decides the communal meal for the day, works directly with the other two heads to provide building materials (leather, bones) and discuss hunting quarries.

Hunting Patrol Very similar to canon; tasked with catching prey or patrolling the border. NEW Position: Head of Hunting. Tasked with managing prey populations and overseeing the types of animals that are being brought home. Has the freedom to levy "limits" on species and organize big game hunts. Is also expected to keep tabs on the territories and populations of other predators, especially vixens and how many cubs they're having in a season.

Construction Patrol An expansion of canon's unofficial builder roles. Tasked not only with building itself, but weatherproofing based on the season, comfort of the dens, and collecting materials. NEW Position: Head of Construction. Oversees projects and manages safety. Works intimately with the Head of Kitchen especially, responsible for taking the skinned pelts and processing them into proper leather, and cleaning spare long bones (especially of rabbits) for use as beams and supports. In ThunderClan, they are also responsible for maintaining the spears.

Educator A cat in charge of giving all kittens all their basic skills and a simple introduction to history, before their mentor and the elders eventually take over. Teaches kits how to understand glyphs, the names of certain animals, the leaders of their Clan, etc.

Unofficial Jobs: Tasks that a cat chooses to do, sometimes also asking permission to do it professionally or permanently.

Chaperone The "perma-queen" position. Helps out in the nursery and attends the needs of the queens. Doesn't typically do a lot with the kittens themselves, between their Mi, the Educator, any Bas or family they have, and the elders. Raising kittens is communal, so the Chaperone focuses more on the parents themselves. (Chaperones are generally rare, as they are redundant if you write the clan as a proper social unit, imo...)

Trader A cat who brings things to the border or to gatherings in order to swap them for other goods. Becoming more popular as peace between the Clans grows. Not a "position" but more of a hobby, or a talent. The Clans are currently running on bartering, between borders.

Crafting Weaving, tanning, toymaking, instrument creation, etc. Not so much a singular position rather than a blanket of various hobbies Clan cats can do in their off-time, now. While Construction Patrol often has to do these as chores, they can be done just for fun or personal gain.

In addition, the Leaders, Deputies, and Clerics have significant expansions as well.

Leaders are now given 9 lives to USE, and are expected to function as "the ideal warrior." They are at the head of dangerous missions, patrols, and are brave responders to natural disasters. They are blessed by StarClan itself, carrying a piece of a star to display their holy rank.

The Deputy is now expected to be the one who handles the "busywork" in the Clan so the leader is free to lead by example. The final decision always goes to the leader, but the deputy has MASSIVE influence over the day-to-day functions of the Clan now.

And the Cleric is the healer and spiritual authority of the entire Clan, only outdone by the Leader itself. Only a Cleric is allowed to interpret signs and omens, with Clan Culture now having the concepts of blasphemy, dark magic, and demonic influence.

#clan culture #better bones au

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rippersz · 9 months

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𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝕴𝖓 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖘

Medusa!Larissa Weems x Blind!Reader (wlw/fluffy/mythological)

"You and only you, can make the rest of my life peaceful," ~ Madeleine Smith

~~~~~~~~

A gentle ebb and flow threaded through the leaves and water. The small waves in the river went forward, the green strands of the grass went back, and so in tune they were when the other changed direction. Forward and back and back and forward. They paid no mind to the birds - those of which flitted from one nest to the other. Nor did the rabbits or deer, grazing and passing through, interrupt their little dance. Forward and back and back and forward. The fish swam with no place in mind and the wolves were silent in their daily musings - tasked to do with whatever it was that wolves were tasked to do on such a sweet day.

The snow of the previous season had been shed; soaked into the ground over the past two weeks while the sun stretched her arms over her head and yawned with a big hello. She carried Spring along with her and spread her over the ground, making love until evening so that the fruits of their desire fell into seeds. Figs, apples, berries, nuts, and foliage dotted the bushes, the nettle, and the trees. All slowly growing ripe in their waiting, blooming in large families to match the quick growth of the flowers. White flowers, pink flowers, red flowers, yellow flowers; lilacs and lavenders and daisies and on the far side of the traveled grounds, even roses.

It was picturesque. Undisturbed. Serene in a way that many places weren’t. The breeze was constant and fresh and the sun peeked from behind big fluffy clouds, announcing her presence with a soft whisper.

And so beautiful it was that she was perfectly content with leaning beside the stone wall of the cave’s entrance; eyes trained on nothing but the journal in her hands. It was worn and old, made from leather with a latch clasp that was slowly rusting, but it was thick and good - full of notes and ideas and places and numbers. 1546 years of being alive as she was, tallying each day until the bitterness overwhelmed the distinct pride of prolonged survival and the tallies became a thing of the past. After all, there was no need to count when the days weren’t numbered.

Sure, there was a bounty on her head, but that didn’t matter. Not in the glory of a new Spring. There was no room for bloodshed on such a beautiful afternoon - and so she was not worried about a bumbling blistering fool with a great ego and dull blade. And so she was not worried about a feral creature with no regard for predator and prey dynamics. And so she was not worried about a-

“AGH!”

-woman?

Her head snapped up, rousing small hisses from the slumbering children.

The woman, she quickly confirmed, had fallen into the river. On her hands and knees, she wavered in the current and let out little sounds- huffs and grunts and even a small curse of ‘Gods, honestly!’- while she scrunched up the fabric of her skirt in her hands and struggled to her feet. Her hair, scraggly and unclean, hung over her face, wet at the ends and dry at the top.

A part of her felt the need to offer assistance, but common sense told her to stay put - and only to watch. Eventually, as time would say, the strange woman managed to trip her way over to the river’s bank and press her hands into the mud and rock. Then she scrambled up, her sandaled feet working in earnest to help lug her body over the edge and finally- finally- leave her belly up in the grass, heaving great breaths of air. Up and down her chest fell while she faced the sky. Her skirt, patterned and brown, hung below her knees and stuck to her legs; and the shirt, white and flowing and clearly a bit too big for her frame, turned see-through with the water-lined hem that rested against her sides. Her feet were bare in her simple sandals and aside from a blue worn shoulder bag- one that strapped sideways along her front- there was nothing particularly distinct about the stranger. She was just a woman returning home. Or a woman searching for something. Or a woman on a mission to provide for her family.

But whichever she was, woman with a purpose or not, she was no friend. And so she made no move to leave her cave and instead, sat, and returned to her journal.

So the breeze passed.

And the clouds strolled.

The river went forward. And the grass went back.

And for a good long while, nothing happened.

Then there was a shuffling, and a noise of effort, and a soft simmer of hisses began to rise. Feeling the slow slipping of movement on top of her head, she looked up.

The woman had gotten to her feet, apparently done with her momentary bask in the sun, and began ringing out the water at the bottom of her skirt. The bag she had was on the ground, and everything in it was spread out on the grass. From her point by the cave, a good distance away, she could see a few bits of light clothing, a comb, a small stone knife (which needed a good sharpening), and two wrapped bits of woven leaves and twine. There was no scent of meat in the air, aside from the flesh of the fauna within the forest, so she figured the woman most likely carried berries and nuts for nutrition. Which was, judging by the contents on her person, certainly not enough in an effort to run away.

The woman looked up. Her body jumped - like a spooked young doe, and her own body tensed. Silently, she told her children to hush. Then she thought, wished,-

‘Don’t turn your head. Don’t turn your head. Don’t turn your head. Don’t-’

Apparently deciding that there was nothing to worry about, the stranger kept her back turned to the cave and went back to wringing out her clothing. The hisses and movement had ceased, but the children were still vigilant - watching with perceptive sapphire eyes as the stranger then began to- oh!

She looked away, turning her head so quickly that the children jerked with her. One of the younglings instantly took the opportunity to slide along the shell of her ear and give a mean rumbling clicky-hiss. Absent-mindedly, she reached up to flick the child back into place; paying more attention to her own behavior than anything else.

The woman had reached to take off her shirt- to draw it above her midriff and throw it onto the grass. The river, mixed with the Springtime air, was a good place to stop and bathe, she supposed. It was her plan later anyway to go for a dip herself, if not to feel clean then to at least wash the little companions she carried with her. But the woman beat her to it. And in the silence as she averted her gaze, ignoring the blush of heat on her pale cheeks, the soft sounds of clothing hitting the ground some feet away filled the air. And when that was said and done, a few splashes and small shrieks - drawn from the chill of the river.

When it was quiet, and she was comfortable enough to sneak a look, she found the woman’s back turned to her still. Her hair was wet and slicked, sticking slightly to her neck as she turned this way and that and- oh. She had soap too. So that must have been in one of the two woven bundles.

‘Hm. Smart.’ But not entirely. It wasn’t good to stay long bathing out in the open. Hunters and gatherers and silly stupid mortals had a habit of coming around at the most inopportune times.

She knew that very well.

Though… since the woman was washing up near her cave… there was no harm in observing the scenery. No harm in taking interest in the sun. No, not at all. They would each have their privacy, and as long as the woman didn’t turn around, everything would be fine. And she could keep an eye out… for birds, of course. Not hunters. No no.

So that’s how it went.

The woman bathed, humming to herself, keeping her back to the cave and turning only to lather soap on another part of her body. Completely unaware of the forest creatures watching her. And one creature in particular made it her mission to watch the land, observing and peering; hearing the crackles of branches and chirping of baby birds, listening for footsteps or voices. But none came. And soon enough, the woman was rising from the river, putting on her sandals, and going to sit on the laid out skirt from earlier. She had no cloth to dry off… and so would use the sun.

‘Hm. Not so smart.’ A hiss or two from her children told her they agreed.

It was not right for a woman to be so vulnerable like that. And out in the open. If she weren’t there, the stranger could be hurt. Or worse - killed. But it was good then that she wasn’t alone, wasn’t it? That she had a guardian of sorts… who would kill her too if only she looked her way.

Did- had she fallen asleep?

Like that?

In the middle of the grass with her belongings spread around her and her body, soft and nude, bared to the sun?

‘Is she mad?’

Maybe she was. Or maybe she was just young. Maybe life hasn’t hurt her too severely just yet. And maybe Larissa was being harsh.

Hm.

Well.

It didn’t really matter either way. There was nothing else to do, and though the stranger wasn’t really ‘company’, she was still action. So there was no desire to chase her off and there was no desire to see her maimed - thus, Larissa sat. She tucked long pale legs beneath her, shifted the white chiton to fall on her shoulders just so, and kept her journal close at hand. Night was due to fall soon enough, as it always did in early Spring, so the tools for a fire were already prepared behind her - waiting to be utilized and set later. Hopefully the woman would be gone by then.

But she wasn’t.

At some point, she’d gotten up to change into different clothing; a dress hand-stitched from red dyed fabric. It was pretty, yes, but not very practical for running away.

‘But good clothing was probably the only thing she had.’

Which was most likely true, Larissa mused. Many young women, richer than most, took it upon themselves to run away. Their reason for doing so depended on who they were. The stranger in the red dress, who decided to lay on the grass and fall asleep again, was a woman of status but not to the point of being a royal. If that were the case, there’d be men on horses trailing close behind. Unless they hadn’t found her yet… and were using dogs to track her scent…

The children stirred, hissing with disdain and fear.

She watched the young woman with anxious eyes.

Such a naive thing could lead to her death, once and for all…. and how ironic would that be. A scorned woman with a passion for soft things… destroyed by a soft woman with a passion for a free life. Had they both wanted that at one point? Or was it still something they desired?

The children settled. She continued to watch the land.

But eventually, as Spring would have it, the peacefulness of the quiet had her lulling off to sleep as well. And she only awoke to the feeling of soft kitten licks at her cheekbones. The repeated lap at her skin had her groaning and flicking the offender away - only to have two more slide up and continue twice as hard.

“Ugh, what is it?” She groaned, scrunching her eyes together before pushing herself upright.

The licks turned to urgent hisses- and her darlings started writhing with anxiety- telling her to get up! And if possessed, she stood quickly and looked out into the sudden dark of night. The sun had disappeared. There was not a single light out there in the black. But there was movement. Breath.

The woman. She was still asleep. Dreaming about whatever it was that women liked her dream about.

Larissa frowned.

Well she couldn’t just leave her out there, could she? No! That was- that was… inhumane. Terrible. A fate worse than anything. And if she woke up to the screams of the stranger- if she woke up to her pain… she could risk killing everyone in sight. Literally.

A young king nipped at her ear.

She huffed. Well. It just wouldn’t do. It just wouldn’t do at all.

And so she collected the fabric of her chiton in her clawed hands and marched forward to the sleeping beauty. The creatures were stiff with observation, keeping their reptilian eyes sharp and alert as she moved - quiet as a snake and dangerous as… well. Herself.

When she was finally standing over the stranger, she let the cloth fall from her hands. The woman, in comparison to her, was short. And vulnerable. And maybe she’d just take her to the edge of the nearest village… or something like that. Something far from her cave and her life. But as she finished slipping the woman’s belongings into her bag (which had since dried from her fall in the river), a whisper rumble of thunder from the clouds above had her sighing. Well. A Spring storm was usually a good sign of the incoming year, but to have one so early was… less than favorable. Her plans, too, were foiled. The children quite disliked the rain, and getting her own clothing wet was something she desperately wanted to avoid (the heavier material took much longer to dry than what the strange woman wore - so she’d have to resort to at least another change of clothes for a day. Which she seldomly tried to wear.)

‘Well. We can’t leave her out here. So as long as she keeps her back turned, we won’t have any trouble now will we?’

No, probably not. Hell for all she knew, the woman could sleep through the whole night and then she could put her back outside in the morning and she could tottle off on her way as though nothing ever happened. Or she could wake up in the middle of the night and take Larissa’s head. Yes. Or that could happen. Which would really be quite terrible. Most likely painless, but still terrible.

The thought of that had Larissa pausing. The woman’s sling bag fell limp in her hand.

Was she taking too big of a risk? Never before had she helped a stranger like that, but she was not unfamiliar with such kindness. It was hard to find in her years, but she’d witnessed the sweetest acts of tenderness amongst strangers. Usually between two women.

She frowned. Some of her children turned, peering over to look down at the sleeping stranger.

Her hair covered her eyes and her limbs were spread out like she was sleeping on the comfiest bit of cloud that ever existed. Like she had no cares at all. It was both endearing and confusing. How could a woman sleep so soundly in the wilderness? How could a woman sleep so soundly in the open? Did her lack of awareness make her an omen of danger? Or was she a passing soul Larissa could provide help for? Someone to make her feel like she was human again… Like she was capable of being good instead of being what she… was.

A flash of lightning in the distance, above the forest before her, told her it was time to hurry up. Spring held no qualms about trapping the world in a downpour, and she didn’t feel like trekking through mud before bed.

So making up her mind quickly, Larissa slung the stranger’s bag over her shoulder and bent down to pick her up. She tried to be mindful of her sharp fingers when sliding her hands beneath the woman’s back and thighs; though surprisingly, for all of her mortal weight, she was easy to carry. Strength, Larissa had figured early on into her ‘new life’, was one of the very few advantages she’d gained after her transformation. But never before had she picked up a human. And never would she do it again as she realized how difficult it was to keep from jostling them. She was just so… limp. Her head lolled a little bit and her arms ragdolled and she looked more like a young woman than an adult stranger. But nonetheless, Larissa carried her back to the cave. The children were silent, understanding somehow that they were not to wake the mortal with their clicks and hisses and little rattling sounds. As endearing as their mother found it, the human would not take too kindly to their existence - before she turned into nothing but a statue, of course.

‘Don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up,’ Larissa thought desperately to herself as she padded into the cave and placed the woman onto her bed. There was nowhere else for her to rest, and it wasn’t like Larissa was planning on getting much sleep in her company anyway, so onto the little nest of stolen blankets, wool, and pillows she went. Slipped so easily from Larissa’s pale arms - and then cared for even more when she went about gently turning her around onto her side, belly facing the cave wall, before pulling the mismatched bed coverings up to her shoulders.

The thunder and lightning from the world beyond was growing more intense by the second, striking a worried chord in her heart that had her quickly placing the woman’s bag beside her body and flitting around to get her home comfortable for the evening. The routine followed as it did every night. Gently unwind the twine that holds back the bramble, vine, and leaf-woven curtains to each side of the cave wall; being careful of the sap-gum that held everything in place. Then gently arrange the curtains, as thick and prickly as they were, to cover the entirety of the cave’s entrance. Once that is finished, move around in the dark for the corner in which the fires are conducted - then go about striking the rock and the wood and adding the sticks and gathering a flame and letting out a sigh of relief when the warm glow fills the grey emptiness of the space.

She had planned on going hunting that evening, before sundown, but the stranger stole all of her attention away; and searching for meat during a storm was a fruitless mission. They were both lucky then that Larissa had enough forethought to search for various nuts, grains, and fruits the day previous. They were stored away behind the fabric of her pillow… which was preoccupied by the woman’s sleeping head.

The world rumbled as Larissa propped herself up against the cave wall. There was never much to do besides ponder, write, sleep, and hunt… so she turned back to her journal, deciding to spend some time detailing the woman she came across. Her hand moved with sharp twirls and scritches, writing of how strange the mortal was; how innocent; how peaceful she looked sleeping in her bed, completely unaware of the monster that lurked behind her. Like a daisy in a pretty green field… soon to be trampled beneath the hungry paw of a bastard wolf; left without the gift of seeing so she couldn’t even anticipate her untimely death. It was rather sad. It was rather brutal. No woman deserved a fate such as that - for she was only running away and did not think she would be dragged into the cave of a beast.

As the embers of the flame died, the woman continued to sleep. There reached a point where Larissa thought she was dead. Despite being able to hear the warm thump of her heart, she still stood and loomed over the stranger - only to find that yes, she was still alive. Just resting.

‘Must have been quite a long journey if she’s been asleep for that long,’ she mused to herself, turning away to tend to the puttering glows of their fire.

Though as soon as the rain started, coming down in thick pats upon the mud outside of the cave, the huddle of blankets in her bed stirred, and her children stood - turning to glare at the sound. A soft swishing fell into the thunderstorm’s undercurrent as the woman moved her legs, kicked them out to stretch, groaned softly beneath her breath, and turned onto her back. She pawed at her hair, eyes still closed, and Larissa reached up to wrap her index finger and thumb around the snout of her eldest child.

‘Don’t speak,’ she quietly commanded the bunch, ‘I do not want to be the last thing she sees.’

But the crackling of the fire, paired with its warmth and light, had the woman releasing a confused hum as she shuffled onto her hands and pushed herself up to sit. Larissa watched, silent, while the stranger slowly came back to her senses and regained consciousness.

“Is there- what-” she spoke, soft voice trailing off into a myriad of inaudible questions.

The child in her grasp wriggled, having had enough of its mother’s scolding, eager to rejoin the others in their free scrutiny. She finally let it go, tapping its pale head with the tip of one finger, and then slid the journal from her lap and placed it onto the cave’s floor as quietly as she could. Spooking the woman was the last thing she wanted to do, but as she stood to her full height and gently pulled some of the loose fabric of her chiton closer to her body, the stranger jumped anyway - and instantly got to her feet.

Larissa’s heart stopped, tripping over itself as she jerked her head down.

“Wh-Who’s there?! What do you want with me?! I have a knife!!” The stranger’s voice, scared and loud, full of false bravery, was quieted by the rain and thunder.

‘You don’t have a knife. You don’t know where it is,’ was Larissa’s inner thoughts- right as the woman began murmuring to herself.

“Wait. Where is the knife…” and only when there was the dull sound of knees dropping onto fabric, did Larissa finally bring her blue eyes up.

The woman, in her absence of the knife… went looking for it. On her hands and knees… patting the ground… searching through the fabrics of the bed and slapping her soft palms against the stone of the cave’s floor… frantic and confused…

Larissa frowned.

“It’s in your bag.”

—

You jumped, letting out a harsh breath while your heart skipped up into your throat.

“Who goes there?! Who are you?!” Your voice was shrill, loud and scared as you forgot about the knife and went pushing yourself back up into your feet. “I-I know how to fight!” You yelled into the darkness, putting up your fists.

It was a lie of course- you had no idea how to fight- but that didn’t matter. As long as the person- woman?- thought you were tough enough to hold your own.

But when you huffed and puffed and bared your teeth, keeping your fists up, nothing happened. Complete silence filled the air, interrupted only by the rain and the flicker of a fire nearby. You could feel its warmth on you even in your panic - even as you stepped back and back and back until your shoulders hit something hard behind you. It was a wall; a curved imperfect wall that told you you weren’t in a cabin or home with extremely open windows, somewhere in the woods, but were instead in… in… well. You didn’t actually know. It’s not like you could see and just find out. Though despite that, you still looked around wildly - keeping your ears open for movement.

There was none.

You frowned.

“…How… are… you…?” It was a woman! The voice, spoken in front of you, across whatever space you were in, was smooth and deep. Accented. She sounded strange. Foreign. And also incredibly confused. Almost… astounded? Like she couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

“Don’t make me ask again,” you warned, reminding yourself that some women could be just as dangerous as men, “what do you want with me?”

“Blind…” came the soft response; so quick- it was in the air before you finished speaking; so quiet you had to strain to hear. “You’re… blind.”

Well. Yes. It was a rather defining feature; one that many noticed and took advantage of. One that people thought they could ‘work with’ and use to trick you - but you were clever. And strong. And personable in a way that many didn’t expect. The stranger across from you though… she was still just another potential danger. Still just a thing to be aware of. And so you cleared your throat and nodded, putting your hands at your sides and curling them into fists.

“Yes. I am. And what about it?” You sniffed, tilting your head up, trying to seem braver than you were.

No amount of cleverness, after all, could save a blind woman from a tricky death. If the river you had fallen into earlier was a cavern or a very deep pit, you would have been finished. Thank goodness you took advantage of it at the time.

“…Nothing. I apologize. I have- never met a blind person before,” the woman spoke, stilted and cautious. Still with an undercurrent of awe in her voice. It was peculiar, the way she was acting, but you shrugged it off. The apology was unexpected but not unwelcome. It had you squinting into the nothingness of your vision.

“Well. Now you have.” You nodded, suddenly feeling rather awkward.

—

Yes. She had. You were right.

Right and blind.

Blind. Unable to see.

The children froze, and she felt the way they looked at each other, unsure and confused. No doubt wondering ‘What issss happening?’ They were too familiar with mortal skin turning grey and hard at the smallest glimpse in their direction to understand what was happening. All they knew was their mother and solitude. And she, likewise, had no concept of how to deal with a stranger that did not want to- or simply couldn’t- kill her.

The milky color of the stranger’s eyes, although rare and odd, was beautiful. Like the wispy white of the clouds when they blanketed the moon at midnight. Light and dark at the same time… grey under a matter of circumstance. The cherry on top of the woman’s strange existence. Shocking to a new face but glorious to a trained eye. Her children observed the mortal with unending curiosity; casting violence aside as they slithered to their tallest heights and curled down, swaying their small pale heads. The situation was lost on them, but that didn’t matter. They’d understand eventually. Perhaps when the woman was gone the previous morning and she could muse over the mortal out loud to herself.

But until then,

“Are you hungry?” She wasn’t sure what else to ask.

—

You felt your stomach rumble- speaking to you as though the mention of eating had woken it up from its slumber.

“Um yes… you’re not going to poison me though, are you?”

There was a short gasp.

“Goodness, no. Why would I do that?”

She sounded so outraged- so shocked by your question- that you almost smiled. You couldn’t see her expression, but there was sincerity in her velvet voice. Like she was genuinely surprised, if not offended, that you’d ask her of all people that. It didn’t matter if you’d asked in slight jest or not; she didn’t seem to understand the consequences that came with literal blind trust.

“Some people like to take advantage,” you murmured, shrugging at the same time. Most women understood what you meant. People during that time, men in particular, saw the weak souls of the world and let their eyes light up with the chance to exert power. It was common. It was difficult. The woman opposite you, you were nearly certain, understood the sentiment as well.

“I–… yes. I realize that,” she stated, her voice growing firm. “But I’m not going to poison you. I’m not a m-” There was a soft hissing hush that filled the air, cutting into her words with a sharp strength you couldn’t ignore

What on Earth…

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” was the quick response. “I have nuts and berries I found not too long ago. Will that be enough?”

Your brow furrowed. What was she hiding?

“Um yes- yes that would be lovely… thank you.”

And with that, the stranger let out a hum and went walking around, shuffling along to grab a few things while you stood there on (what you assumed was) her bed. It was soft; pillowed with linens and fabrics and blankets that felt as though they’d come from all over the world when you shifted from one foot to the other. You frowned at the odd feeling and stepped off of the coverings- not wanting to flatten or dirty her sleeping area. It was kind of her to even put you there in the first place; though you wondered if she’d carried you herself or dragged you along. Not many women in your time, or the village where you were from, had the strength or initiative to pick up another woman and carry her anywhere, let alone their own bed. But if you were dragged along the grassy terrain outside, you surely would have felt the bumps and stops, no?

Either way, as soon as you stepped onto the hard ground of- well- wherever- you were at, you turned to the sound of movement and cleared your throat.

“And um… thank you for taking me here. Keeping me safe. You didn’t have to do that, but you did anyway. So- I appreciate it.” You fidgeted; keeping your hands at your waist and picking at the soft skin around your nails.

The shuffling paused.

“…You’re welcome.” The stranger replied softly.

It was almost like she wasn’t sure what to say. Like she didn’t hear the words ‘thank you’ very often. Like maybe she didn’t come into contact with people very often. And perhaps she didn’t. How else could she have found you if she didn’t live away from civilization? It wasn’t unheard of; it was just not very common. But, as you always said, to each their own. There was no room for judgment, after all - the woman probably ran away in a similar fashion as you did. In the very beginnings of morning, before the sun even rose, with everything you could think to carry in a satchel slung across your shoulders, heading out into the world as though it wouldn’t prove to be as dangerous as the life you left had been. The only difference being that nothing could make you want to return to that - not even the scary sounds that came out of the forest at night. The woman, even if only for one evening, was a saving grace.

And still a stranger.

She puttered around some more, dragging soft things across the ground- leaf bowls you assumed- and poured water into clay cups.

“I never got your name, you know. So I can remember you.” It was a hesitant thing to say, but you figured that if you somehow made friends with the woman, you could come back to her one day if you ever needed the shelter. Or the company. The world was tough, after all; and not always did a woman succeed on her own.

That woman had, though.

That woman, who stopped her actions again and allowed the combined ambience of the rain and fire to melt into the space.

That woman, who inhaled sharply before exhaling into one spoken breath:

“Larissa.”

(Thank you for reading! Do let me know if you'd prefer the other layout/way of editing with the text dividers and character gifs. This Medusa thing may become a little series like Cannibal Larissa. Let me know what you think? Until next time, darlings - Rip x)

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(Tags [please know that Tumblr will not let me properly @ some accounts] : @oddball21 @kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @opalthefrog @gwensfreak @shyladyfan @erablaise-blog @bellatrixsbrat @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @lex13cm @sugipla @hasthebaconinhispants @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @eveymay @one-pining-queer @azu-zu @niceminipotato @hopelessly-sapphic @barbarasstar @enchantressb @syrenacrainn @im-a-carnivorous-plant @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @scarlettssub @ladysdraga @willisnotmental @gela123 @h-doodles @zillahofviolets-bayolet )

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chickenparm · 7 months

Text

Give of Yourself (fox!Tartaglia/f!Reader)

check out the full version of the header art by @lemonemlyn!

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AO3 LINK

fox!Tartaglia/f!Reader 6,989 Words - NSFW (mating bites, knotting, breeding, mild dirty talk, reader is referred to a handful of times as "pretty")

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The first time you meet him is in the depths of the woods, the snow up to your knees as you hunch over your traps and deftly retrieve what’s going to be your dinner for the next few days.

At first you don’t even hear him. He doesn’t make a sound until he’s within arm’s reach, his boot crunching against the snow in a movement that you now know was intentional. After some time, you’d realize he’d never let you hear him there if he didn’t explicitly want you to know. The sound makes you drop the limp hare in the snow, the ones slung over your shoulder falling as well with the speed that you draw your weapon.

But it’s unnecessary. At the time, you’d assumed him unarmed, so your guard lowered slightly. He simply had a smile on his face and both hands raised in surrender, and a polite question on his lips. “Could I share your dinner this evening?”

Simple, polite, and almost forgotten when you catch sight of the soft auburn-colored appendage swishing behind him, the long triangles perched atop his head.

Tartaglia, he told you his name was, at least for the moment. When you inquire a little further, he just says that different situations require different names, but all of them are inherently correct. So, Tartaglia is his name, and he isn’t offended in the slightest when you ask if he’s a fox envoy from Inazuma.

“I’m Snezhnayan, like you. How could that be what I am?” Tartaglia carries your hares over his shoulder, following along in your footsteps in the snow but somehow looming over from behind you. It’s a bit unsettling, but he’s been nothing but cordial during this short interaction, so you chalk it up to your own uneasiness of people.

“I am no fox envoy,” Tartaglia says with finality. “But I am a Fox.”

“What’s the difference?” You ask as your cabin comes into view. A small, one-roomed thing with sturdy stone walls and a thatched roof just installed this last summer.

Tartaglia laughs a little, following your lead in stomping the packed-in snow from the bottoms of your boots. You rest them by the door when you enter your home, swapping for shoes that are softer, more comfortable. There are none for him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, the cold doesn’t bother him at all.

“Fox envoys are fox envoys, and a Fox is a Fox. You’re thinking too hard about it.” Tartaglia says this as if he were explaining that the sky is blue, and snow is cold, and there’s one extra hare strung on your line than what you remember lifting from your traps. You eye it curiously, but say nothing of the strange gift.

Taking them from him to begin preparing, you ask, “Well, are foxes some divine being? Are you immortal?”

“Foxes are Foxes, and I live as long as a Fox usually does.” Tartaglia watches patiently as you work, not offering to help, but you wouldn’t have accepted it anyway. He’s a guest, and you’d rather he just answer your questions. It’s been far too long since you’ve spoken with another person since the snows kept you in place for the season.

One rabbit is finished as you mull over his answers. Then, with more questions, you speak. “You’re not very good at answering questions, you know.”

“You’re just not asking the right questions.” While you work, he wanders your home, looking over your shelves and belongings, but never touching. Occasionally, his fingers will flex in his gloves like he’d love to pick up a trinket or book, but he’s remarkably respectful. “Try again.”

You hum, setting aside more bits and pieces of your prey, some to eat and some to preserve. “How long do foxes live?”

“As long as they like.”

“And how long do you like, since you’re a fox?”

A smile spreads on his face over his shoulder, and you try not to return it too widely at the prospect of playing this little game with him. Each question he answers dutifully, and you try your best to wheedle him into a corner where you can get the results you want. With careful maneuvering, by the time you’ve started roasting the rabbit and the fat is dripping and hissing in the fire, you’ve learned a handful of things about your guest.

Tartaglia is a Fox. Not a fox, but a Fox. There’s a distinction in how he says it, one that you eventually pick up on. Where he comes from are the forests around Morepesok, the ones you also call home, and he’s only now shown his face because he was bored. When you ask if Foxes can even get bored, he laughs as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

Tartaglia tells you he likes you, and asks if it would be out of line to return and pass the time in your presence. You say yes, of course, because you’ve never met a Fox before and he seems like a rather charming kind.

The next time you see him, he’s across the river as you squat near the edge and check your cages. They’re all empty, meaning you’ll be eating salt-cured hare again tonight. As you look up, he’s already made it to your side without a sound. It’s not nearly as unsettling as you expected.

“Rabbit again, it seems,” you gripe, getting to your feet and dusting the snow from your pants. Tartaglia doesn’t seem terribly put off, instead giving you a shrug. His tail sweeps lazily from side to side, the tip leaving a single large crescent in the snow behind him. Clutched in his hand are the back legs of another hare, fresh enough that you won’t need to subsist off salted and dried meat for dinner.

On the way back to your cabin, you pose more questions for him. “Do you have human ears, too?”

“Why would I?” And you glance up as he follows along next to you. There are no human ears beneath the ginger locks of his hair. Just the two soft appendages at the top that swivel as if he were listening to everything around the two of you. “I’m not human, what use would I have for human ears?”

“Are Fox ears better? Why would humans need human ears, then?”

“Because humans are humans.” Tartaglia says simply, stepping over a log across the path and holding out a hand for you to brace on to follow after him. He does it naturally, as if it were second-nature to assist you with something so trivial. He doesn’t let your hand go until you’re safely on the other side.

“And Foxes are Foxes?” You ask, and his mouth curls in a little smile, like he’s proud of you for such a thing.

“Now you’re getting it!”

The third time he appears before you is a week after the second. It would be a lie to say you don’t recognize him immediately. The shade of his fur is the same as always, though it covers the slim and lithe body of a fox - a Fox, he would correct you - and you would recognize the shade of his eyes everywhere.

Snow reflects so much light, yet none of it seems to catch in his gaze.

Tartaglia follows after you, unperturbed by the fish hanging off your line as you carry it back home. Without asking, you know he plans to stay for dinner, and it’s a surprisingly quiet evening as he curls up on the warmed stones of your fireplace and pointedly remains underfoot as you try to cook. Even a nudge with your toes doesn’t move him, and you have to step over and around Tartaglia to ensure the fish is ready to eat.

“Can you change back?” You ask, sitting on the floor next to him. There’s a plate nearby with his food, but he hasn’t touched it yet. Instead he sprawls on his back with his stomach being warmed by the fire. It takes all your willpower not to reach out and pet him.

He might find it undignified, but he doesn’t seem particularly worried about being dignified. Only that you understand that he’s a Fox, not a fox.

Tartaglia tilts his head to look at you, and somehow you know he’s saying yes. So, you continue with, “Will you? I like how you look normally.”

He doesn’t respond. In fact, his eyes simply close and he looks impossibly smug as he waits for you to take your own utensils to be cleaned before he wolfs down his food. With an annoyed sound when you return, you take his empty plate to clean that, too. In the beginning, you wondered if he did these things on purpose. Now you know for certain that he does.

Tartaglia appears to you as himself only a few days later.

“Is this more to your liking?” Tartaglia gives you cheek with a little smile, ducking his head beneath the top of the door frame as he enters your home without knocking. You can’t bring yourself to mind much at all - he is always welcome.

Glancing up from the clothes you’re mending, you look him up and down pointedly before nodding once. “Yes, I prefer this much more.”

“I thought you’d prefer the other. I’ve been told I make a very handsome Fox.”

“By whom?” You ask, scrunching your nose at him. “Other foxes? They’re biased.”

“And so are you,” Tartaglia points out, moving to sit down on the same stones he’d sprawled across only a few nights before. “This form is more human, so you would prefer it. Both are correct.”

“Like your names,” you agree, and he gives you that little smile that makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. Even so, you undeniably enjoy seeing it.

On his next visit, Tartaglia brings you a gift.

It’s a little thing, just barely fitting into the palm of your hand. It’s a small dome made of metal, the golden latticework interspersed with little squares of blue and red. Upon opening it, you find that it’s a music box, one that plays a tune you’ve never heard before, yet makes you nostalgic. Almost instinctively, you want to hum it, and Tartaglia hums with you as if guiding you along the notes.

The music box becomes your most prized possession. There’s little use for pretty trinkets this far out in the wilderness, yet every night before you sleep, you wind it up and drift off to the sound. When he sees it displayed on your mantle, Tartaglia seems to beam with an unknown, positive emotion.

It is not the only gift he brings, but it is your favorite.

Once, after dinner and before you turned in for the evening, Tartaglia gets to his feet and holds a hand out for you, ears forward and alert, tail moving with lazy interest. “Play it again and dance with me?”

Your movements are clumsy, but like he guided you with the music, he nudges you along with the dance. Tartaglia’s dexterity keeps you from stepping on his toes, but you learn soon enough how to match his steps to the music. He does not let you falter.

At your waist his hand curls, the other lacing with your fingers, and you can’t help but notice how impossibly warm he is. Like a furnace pressed to your front, you feel as if you’re burning alive as he hums to the music with half-lidded eyes and looks down at you with that same unfamiliar expression.

From this close, he smells like snow and the sun and pine needles. As if he’d dashed through the underbrush and picked up the scent of the forests around you. It’s almost enough to make you melt into him, his very presence becoming familiar and adored. You wonder if perhaps it’s in his nature to make himself endearing, to worm his way into your life and make space so easily.

It’s not as if you’ve made it difficult.

Winter turns to Spring, and Spring creeps close enough to Summer that the snow begins to melt and you feel more comfortable making trips into the village. On your first, Tartaglia muses upon the idea of going with you, but then backs out after a moment of consideration.

“Foxes aren’t welcome. Not in Morepesok,” Tartaglia explains, and you can’t help but be a little put-off after having hoped he would spend the day with you in the village.

But you understand. It’s an insulated town, and the unknown and unusual are frightening to them. Perhaps that’s why he never showed up to you until now? It’s hard to get an answer out of him pertaining to his reasoning, not with how expertly he’s able to weave your questions into something confusing and nonsensical.

Without his company, you see no reason to linger long. Once, you might have spent hours in the village socializing, getting used to the feeling of people. But this last Winter has been filled neatly with Tartaglia’s presence, and you haven’t felt lonely - not once.

With that in mind, you gather up all your gratitude and return to your home with a pull-cart of supplies and a single frivolity on top. Tartaglia is waiting for you, and he hasn’t bothered to hide the way he’s paced circles around your cabin, prints of boots and paws that intertwine with one another.

When you present him with your gift, he holds the stuffed toy in his hands, turning it this way and that. “More trinkets for your shelves?” Tartaglia asks, and you can’t help but laugh at him the same way he laughs at you. Only when it leaves your chest do you realize it’s laced with fondness.

“No, it’s for you. A gift. I’m sorry it isn’t fancy, my kind of life doesn’t leave much room for that.”

Tartaglia is silent for a long, long time.

After he’s taken his gift and disappeared on you for nearly a week, he returns once more when you’re settled into the snow next to a hole cut through the ice, bundled up in your furs with a fishing pole poised and waiting for a bite. Initially, you expect him to take a space across from you, but then you’re startled when he reaches down to pluck the pole from your hands and jam the handle into the snow.

Before you can protest, worried that you’ll miss a bite, his hands now reach for your cloak to untuck it from around you. You’re left bereft and cold, an argument poised on your lips about how you don’t have natural immunity like he seems to have.

Ultimately, you’re silenced by the way he sidles up behind you, bracketing your body with his legs, the heat rolling off him seeping immediately through your layers. Your forgotten cloak sits in the snow as furs of russet and auburn settle around the two of you comfortably. All thoughts of fishing for your dinner are lost as a dreamy sort of haze settles over you.

“Isn’t this better?” Tartaglia sounds a bit smug as he speaks over your shoulder, his cheek brushing against your temple. “The fur of a Fox is much warmer than anything else.”

“These are yours?” You ask, your hand tentatively running along the softness, strands plush against your fingers.

Something rumbles behind you, right up against your spine, beneath Tartaglia’s sternum. “Yes, and now they’re yours. You’ll keep them safe for me, won’t you?”

Of course, you will. You’ve never held on to something this sumptuous in your life. Absently you continue stroking them, the rumbling at your back lulling you into a trance the likes of which you’ve never felt before. It’s so enthralling that you don’t notice the tip of your fishing pole nudging, or the way he reaches out to pick the rod up and pull in your catch.

Once the fish is writhing on the surface do you snap back to reality and set to work killing it and stringing it up to take home with you. Tartaglia resets your line, then those long arms wind around your middle to pull you back into the warmth of his furs. The cycle repeats, you’ve never felt this secure in your life. Having to pull away to return once the sun starts to sink feels like the greatest torture.

Tartaglia leaves the furs with you, reminding you of your promise to keep them safe and to wear them when you’re in the trees. You do not see him in the form of a fox again.

At night, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to sleeping with them, keeping the thickness wrapped around you snug enough that your blankets are unnecessary now. Inadvertently, Tartaglia keeps you warm as you’re encompassed in the scent and heat of him. You’re not quite sure how he’d react if he knew that you were so taken with this, with him.

Secretly, you hope he’d give you that sweet smile that crinkles the corner of his eyes, and gather you up into his arms so you’d never be cold again. Having his fur is as close as you think you’ll get.

One morning, you sleep in late. Your food stores are plentiful with the comparatively warmer months, there’s enough wood chopped, you have only small chores to do that won’t take much time at all. So, you roll over on your side and snuggle into Tartaglia’s furs with a pleased little smile and a dreamy sigh. Somehow, they still smell like him, even after a handful of weeks.

The bed dips, first at your back, then at your front, and as you turn your head to look upward, you see Tartaglia hovering over you, looking curiously at your sleepy expression. Only his quiet breaths and yours fill the silence, the fire having long burnt out through the evening and morning. The dull blue of his eyes travels from your face to the warmth you’re wrapped in, something shifting, turning a little darker.

Against your cheeks, you can feel his breath shake as he exhales, then inhales, then says, “You accept, then?”

You’re not sure what he’s referring to, but you’re sleepy enough that you simply smile and nod. In truth, there aren’t many things that you wouldn’t do if he asked it of you. So accepting something blindly isn’t so frightening when it comes to Tartaglia.

“Wonderful,” Tartaglia murmurs, leaning closer, lips brushing against your cheek and nearly searing your skin. “You look so perfect like this, pretty Mate.”

Mate. The word makes your eyes crack open again, staring over his shoulder at the ceiling as his lips press more firmly against your cheek with purpose. Pine and snow fill your lungs as you inhale, then let it all go. You’ve realized with Tartaglia that perhaps questioning everything is the incorrect route.

If you watch with patience, you’ll learn what you want to know.

Shifting his weight to prop on one hand, his knee pressed into the bed near your lower back, Tartaglia’s other hand lifts to curl around the edge of the furs, pulling it down to get a better look at your face. “You don’t even know what you did. Do you?”

It’s not something he needs an answer to. You’re well aware that he knows you’re confused, yet still trusting all the same. Being cradled in the most precious part of his being feels as if it empties you of thought and refills you with affection that overflows. Tartaglia smiles, your heart flutters.

“Every step was perfect,” he muses, letting go of the furs to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing beneath your eye in a soft arch. Over his shoulder, the gentle sway of his tail catches your eye, back and forth like a metronome that soothes you. “You let me in your den. You accepted the prey I brought you.”

Lips brush against your cheek once more, his hand on the opposite keeping you steady as he speaks his words into you. “You expressed approval of my appearance. The music box was a courting gift; you accepted that. We danced and played together. You returned with a gift of your own.”

Letting go of your cheek, his fingers reach down to tug at the furs a little more, showing more of your face, your neck, your shoulders. Steadily he tugs it free until he can slip beneath it with you, sharing the warmth of his body until you feel smothered and safe.

“I gave you my form - my fur. It’s the way of Mates, you know. The exchange of what makes us who we are.” The curl of his body slots behind your own, pulling you back against his chest until every inch of you is tight against him, no space left for anything more than complete understanding.

A thought tickles at his previous words, and your voice feels weak and jumbled as you murmur, “I have nothing to give you in return.”

“I know. It doesn’t make our bond worth any less,” Tartaglia answers, face nuzzling into your neck, the feel of something sharp over where your pulse pounds the strongest. “You’ll give me yourself. I’ll mark you, and you’ll be mine, and that’ll be enough.”

Again, the drag of sharpness that could only be his teeth. Sharp pointed canines that you’ve seen enough to no longer be completely intrigued by. The slide of his hands around your waist as he squeezes you tight, one palm pressed to your stomach. “And I will be yours. I’ll care for you, protect you. Keep you safe and happy and full of my kits.”

Your thoughts feel muddled, but they’re still your own. No matter how comfortable you feel, how pliant you are beneath his hands, the words still bring you pause. Of course being his Mate would entail that, it should have been obvious when he first mentioned it. And yet, it doesn’t scare you as much as it might have before.

You fully expect him to do something. Anything. For him to bite you, or paw at you, or do anything except what he does now. Tartaglia’s body cradles yours and his hand strokes over your stomach and he inhales deeply at your neck as if he can’t bother breathing if it isn’t laced with your scent.

The movements almost lull you back to sleep. Your eyes have trouble staying open, and the strange weightlessness of unconsciousness makes your sink further into him. As a last resort, because you cannot simply let things lie, you ask, “Won’t you do it?”

“No,” he answers simply, not elaborating until you’re starting to prickle with impatience. For once, he has mercy on you. “You haven’t given me yourself, yet.”

“How?” Your question is only met with the slow spread of a smile against your shoulder. You think you might know.

Tartaglia’s grip falters a little, allowing him to move his hands to your hips to nudge you onto your stomach. With careful hands, he coaxes you to lift them, higher and higher until you’re propped on your knees, chest to the furs you’ve gathered subconsciously to cushion yourself for what you must intrinsically know is coming.

Those hands on your body squeeze, fingers pressing into your skin as if to test the give, and he hums appreciatively. “Good for grabbing, like I suspected.”

Tartaglia has seen you in many states. Bundled up in all your layers, only your eyes peeking over the edge of your scarf. In warm, casual clothing as you cook dinner. In your bedclothes when you’ve just woken and he politely demands breakfast. But there have been very few instances where he’s touched you.

A hand in yours as he helps you over fallen trees or across ice that the wind has blown mirror-smooth. The brushing of fingers as he passes you whatever prey he’s offering on a given day, the memories heavier now that you know what his intent has always been. His chest pressed to your back as he wrapped you in his furs - himself - for the first time.

But this is different. This squeezing and pawing at your hips, your thighs, your backside… There is no innocence about this. Tartaglia appraises you with purpose now, as if he were taking stock of a deeply sought after prize, something hard won and treasured. If he hadn’t so openly said it, you’d know just by the way he appreciates your form that you are very much his.

And he is yours, and you want to see him while he explores you. Wiggling a bit, you tell him so, and his hand slides up your spine to push between your shoulder blades, a firm denial. Mercifully, he clarifies enough that you relax into it. “Not this time. Humans have their preferences for mating, and I’ll go along with those happily. I see the merit in it. But if I’m going to take you as mine, we’ll do it my way.”

Like an animal, you want to murmur, but you know it wouldn’t be quite right. Tartaglia is not just some animal, but you’ve always been aware of something beneath the surface that speaks of a more primal way of doing things. Natural would be the word he likely used, but no matter how you add it up, the sum remains the same.

You don’t struggle against the press of his hand, and he squeezes your hip once more in approval. Sliding back down your spine, he nudges your lower back into a deeper arch before those long fingers hook into your pants and underwear. “Nothing would make me happier than to give you everything you want. As often as you want, in as many different positions. After you give yourself to me like this.”

“Yes,” you hiss, almost impatient with the methodical way he’s picking you apart, thrumming at your nerves while barely doing anything at all. It’s the implications that your mind is supplying in the spaces between, and you know he’s doing it on purpose.

The frigid air meets your backside, your thighs, the wetness of your cunt as he tugs your clothes down enough to bunch around your knees. It’s all he needs right now, and you’re just glad he isn’t wasting time by trying to reveal more of you. Those same hands touch your skin now, squeezing in all the same places, his palms burning hot against you. A pathetic little sound falls from your lips, and he freezes.

You can feel him smiling.

As his fingers spread you open, you don’t have the wherewithal to even be embarrassed at the vulnerability of it all. Tartaglia looks at you shamelessly, a little rumble leaving his chest as he thumbs over your clit with little warning. Your hips jolt, only for a moment, and then you’re pushing yourself back against his circling finger for more.

It feels as if you’re demanding it from him, but also that you’re offering yourself as some sort of… toy for him to play with. The mere suggestion of it has you reeling; that you would willingly put yourself in his hands for his amusement. But that’s what all this is for, isn’t it? You can’t help asking that of yourself, knowing that it’s the truth.

Tartaglia wants you to give yourself to him in the only way you really can. An even trade for the offering that still wraps around you now. The exchange for having him at your side always, giving you all those things he promised. Protection, happiness, safety… The feeling of his cock nudging against you, hot and weighty, the chill of something smearing across your skin.

“Look at you, all ready for me,” Tartaglia breathes, nails scraping against your skin as he pushes closer, nestling against your cunt until his tip brushes your clit, his pulse thrumming against you just as surely as yours races against him. “Knew you’d be perfect. I knew it. I watched you, you know.”

And that makes you stiffen. You’d suspected, of course, but-

“Ever since you came here–” two years ago– “I watched, I waited. The forests are wild, uncontrollable, imperfect. But you’re… different.”

Tartaglia rocks against you, a minute sliding of his cock against your oversensitive cunt. He lets you feel every inch of him before ever giving you a taste. “Humans are delicate. Fragile, really. Wrapped up in your layers, I thought you looked cute. But every day that passed, I grew more sure that you’d look even more divine with my furs wrapped around you…”

And he leans down, pressing his lips to your neck, just over your pulse once more. You can feel the heaviness of his breath as he murmurs, “And how you’d look with my mark right here.”

Goosebumps prickle along your skin at the open threat of his teeth pressing into your skin. Not hard, never breaking, but little indents left as he pulls away, surely. Perhaps it’s your own mind tricking you, addled with both desire and the man above you, but you have a distinct need to have those marks on you permanently.

So, you bite down on your lip and whine a little plea, unsure of what you’re really asking for, only knowing that you want it desperately. More than you’ve ever wanted anything. The entirety of your life feels like it’s been boiled down to this single moment, the pinprick in time where it’s just you and the Fox above you, behind you, surrounding you completely.

Tartaglia withdraws, just enough to give you the full drag of him against your folds before the head pushes against your entrance. Never before have you taken someone with such little resistance, but never before has anyone worked you into such a state with so little effort. Tartaglia has barely touched you beyond squeezes and gropes for his own gratification, yet you can feel a rivulet of your own arousal roll down the inside of your thigh.

And you can hear the squelch of his entry, your cunt being pushed open to make way for him to seat fully inside you. Your mouth falls open in a silent sound as Tartaglia eases you open in one smooth move, the sharp angle of his hip bones pressing into your backside. The pressure only increases when he leans over you again, one hand braced on the bed, the other smoothing over your stomach, fingers pressing in just beneath your belly button.

“Right here. Can you feel me?” Tartaglia’s voice is almost a purr as he coaxes you into responding with a nudge of his hips forward. Your mouth shuts with a click of your teeth, face twisting in pleasure as you’re swept up in the sensation of having him inside, of nearly being rearranged to make room for him to take you.

Each move is torturously slow, and you’re reminded of his words, of the implication. You moved into this cottage two years before he approached you, and it’s been half a year since then. Two and a half years of persistence points to a lifetime of patience. Because of his nature, you assumed he’d take you quick and harsh.

And yet he pulls out and pushes in at an agonizing pace, your mind latching on to the sensation of being filled and emptied. Tartaglia fucks you like he has all the time in the world to do so, like he wants to spend that time memorizing every trembling inch of your pussy before marking it as his own. Like… he wants to torture you for not letting him do this sooner.

You would have let him. Gods, the first time he smiled at you - for real, not the wide and false thing he defaults to - you would have graciously done anything he asked. Including this frustrating slow paced fuck. Or is it mating? You’re not sure, and you don’t really have the faculties to ask such a question in the precise way required to get a real answer.

Fisting the sheets, you push back against him as he pulls out, trying to get at least one sharp thrust in to satiate yourself. Tartaglia doesn’t stop you, doesn't prevent you from doing it, but only once. Only when you rock forward and off does he stop you with a hand on your backside, palm pushing into the flesh and fingers squeezing in quiet warning.

Next time, you recall him saying. This one is for him, for his enjoyment. You don’t move, sucking in a shaking breath to fill your lungs, and his grip lessens to pat your ass in encouragement. “Smart; you remembered. Just relax. Just feel. Can you do that for me, just a little longer?”

You make a sound of agreement, but he doesn’t accept it as readily as you thought. Another tap to your backside, a little bit harder this time. Perhaps his patience isn’t as infinite as you thought. “Say it out loud. Say that you’re happy staying right here, feeling my cock.”

Tartaglia doesn’t sink back into you. Your entrance is stretched wide around his tip, your cunt clenching around nothing and begging for him to give you anything at all. Weary with your own desperation, you cave for him. “I-I’m happy just feeling your cock–”

“Your Mate’s cock,” he amends his original request, nudging forward, giving you a little as compensation so far.

You want more, even if he buries inside and never moves again. “I’m happy staying here and feeling my M-Mate’s cock.”

Something that felt so frustrating before now feels euphoric as he slides all the way in once more, nudging against places inside that you’re not sure have ever been touched like this. All it took was a moment of realignment to take you from annoyance to appreciation for the slow, slow roll of his hips.

This is fine. This is enough. If you close your eyes and focus only on that slow dragging, on bearing down and tightening around him further, then you find yourself inching closer and closer to the release you need. A little groan of surprise leaves him as you do this, then a little chuckle as he quickly realizes what you’re trying to do.

You expect him to tease you, to demand that you hold off and you’re not allowed to finish while he does this. It would be cruel, but you’d do it, only because he’d made so many pretty promises about what comes next. And yet, he slides a hand around you, breath hot against your ear. His fingers find your clit again as his cock goes still inside. “Since you’ve been so good…”

Tartaglia doesn’t move himself an inch as he plays with your clit, stroking it between two fingers, drawing circles with the pad of his middle digit, pressing hard to give you a little jolt of pain before soothing it away with soft touches. You’re not certain what it is he’s getting out of this until you tense particularly hard and his cock twitches inside you.

The closer you get to orgasm, the more you tense and flex around him. Tartaglia doesn’t need to fuck you to get his own pleasure, you realize, and that only spirals you higher toward the very apex of it all.

Through the haze you feel his mouth on your neck, sucking against the little marks he’d left not so long ago. The pressure will leave bruises, and you almost think that’s the extent of it. A mark that will be left to show he’d been here with you, that you were his until it faded and he’d surely put another in its place.

Tilting your head, you give him all the access he’d like. You’d be proud to leave whatever mark he gives, even though you’re isolated enough out here that you’ll likely not see another person until it starts to fade. But you’ll see it, you’ll feel it. Just as surely as you feel him throbbing in your cunt, as surely as his teeth dragging along your skin before sinking in.

As surely as the pain of his bite mixes with the exquisite agony of your drawn out release, the two striking at the same time and mingling so thoroughly that there’s no hope of pulling one from the other. They’re the same thing now, both overwhelming and leaving you just as delirious as you’d been when he arrived.

Something else burns at you, too. Between your mind reeling and your muscles tensing as if you’d experienced electro directly from the source, you realize he’s moving now. Quick, shallow, sharp little thrusts, something pushing at you that you don’t recognize. If you weren’t so thoroughly ruined, you’d panic, but instead you sprawl beneath him and let his hands hold your hips to keep you from going completely boneless.

The bluntness pushes you open, slowly but surely with each thrust until the stretch making you nearly squeal as he forces it inside. Only when you accept it does he finally dig his nails in and mouth against your neck, moaning against your skin with each shot of his release. Involuntarily, his hips jerk forward as the waves roll over him, his body pushing yours into the bed as he loses his strength to keep you aloft for his use.

Your neck stings, your pulse runs hardest in your cunt that’s stuffed full of his cock. Mindlessly, your fingers reach for the red fur sprawled around the two of you, pulling it closer. Its owner is at your back, but you have a single-minded need to be completely wrapped up by him. Everything feels muddled, as if you’d had a bit too much firewater to drink and were in the throes of your cups.

Tartaglia’s tongue rolls against the stinging marks, and you wonder if he’s tasting your blood or if he’d even gone that deep. It felt that way, as if he’d pierced you clean through. Perhaps his mark will last far longer than you expected.

A sharp hiss leaves you as you shimmy a bit to get more comfortable, and his length doesn’t dislodge from you. In fact, you feel as if he’s locked inside, something keeping you from pulling free. Another shift, a whimper as you realize that’s exactly what’s happened, and he finds quiet glee in your confusion.

“Did you think I was lying? I told you that I would breed you, Mate.” His hand sprawls over your stomach, possessive as if something were already growing there. “Hush now, my knot will go down soon and you can ask all your questions.”

“Can’t I ask them now?” You ask, annoyed at how thick your voice feels from exhaustion. Against your neck he nuzzles, lips brushing over the tender spot where he’d bitten you. Verbally, he doesn’t answer, but you suspect that he’d just reiterate his desire for you to wait.

And so, you relax beneath him, letting his weight settle over you comfortably. The furs tickle against your nose as you inhale their scent, as potent as the moment he’d first wrapped them around you. A thought meanders through your mind about what you might smell like to him, and whether he pines for it in the same way that you do.

Tartaglia doesn’t seem the pining type. At least, that’s what you thought before all of… this. Apparently, he’d been doing so for quite some time, far before you even had laid eyes on him.

With a little roll, he pulls you to lay on your side, his body spooned against your back once more, just as before, the thickness of his tail curled over your hip. The movement slips him free of you, and you don’t quite have words to articulate the disappointment that settles in your chest from the loss. You feel unlike yourself, but somehow more in-tune with who you are, as well.

Sensing your confusion, Tartaglia answers questions that you hadn’t had time to formulate. You’re his Mate, he tells you. He’s put his mark on your neck permanently, claiming you for himself in the eyes of all others. When your fingers raise to your neck to feel, he brushes your hand away. “Don’t touch it, you’ll irritate it more.”

“I just want to feel it-”

“There’s nothing to feel. It’s the shape of my teeth, and it’ll scar over,” he chides you, squeezing your hand. “Just trust me when I say that it suits you.”

You suppose you’ll be the judge of that later. In the meantime, you sigh a bit petulantly and relax in his hold, trying not to drift off to sleep. To combat yourself, you needle him further. “Why didn’t you say anything before? About your… feelings.”

“I have been.” Tartaglia almost sounds affronted, like you’ve put this entire thing up to be judged for validity. “We went through every step of the mating process. It’s not my fault you didn’t ask about any of it.”

“How was I supposed to know!”

“By asking,” Tartaglia answers simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You want to spin around and smack him, your hand pushing against the bed to give you leverage to do just that, but he cuts you off at the pass by wrapping those furs around you so tightly that you’re certain you’ll turn into a Fox yourself.

And then he laughs at you, light and weightless, rasping a bit at the edges in a way his polite ones never do. If not from his smile, then just by the angle of his ears, Tartaglia is happy. As happy as you’ve ever seen him. You’ll be annoyed with him later, you think, when you’ve had your fill of his elated expression and grow tired of seeing him so jovial.

That moment doesn’t come.

#mind the a/n for content tags #tartaglia #childe #genshin impact #genshin #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #f!reader #afab!reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia/reader #childe/reader #reader-insert #nsft #mdni

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knightmareaceblue · 1 month

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A redraw of the group photo from the Nether hopping arc! I wanted to get in more practice drawing the characters in this specific style, and also see if I can fix some issues with their designs that were bugging me. I... mostly succeeded on that 2nd part?

Some notes regarding these CG designs (plus some headcannons):

-Red's outfit frustrates me, because I like it a lot without colour, but once I start trying to add colour it always ends up looking off. The current colour scheme is fine, I guess, but I'm a little torn on whether or not the colours suit Red, and not making him too close to the other colour schemes present (which I like a lot more).

-Red's outfits will often have animal motifs designed into them. Usually cat, rabbit, or pig, but they have all sorts of animal clothes.

-Though it can't usually be seen due to not drawing them with their hood up often, Red's hoodie has cat ears. The reason I don't usually draw the hood up is because I like drawing his hair too much.

-Red will alternate between gloves, bracelets, and, post AVM season 3, a yellow headband and armbands.

-Under the hoodie Red will usually wear a tank top or crop top. Though it can't be seen in this photo, the arm holes for the hoodie are incredibly large, so Red's top can sometimes be seen when lifting her arms or looking at them from the side.

-In general, I do like Yellow's outfit. It suits her personality well and has some good colours. My primary concern is that it may be too... plain? Stereotypical? Basically, that it's too stereotypically 'nerd' to be interesting. But I can't come up with anything better, so this'll be her default outfit for now.

-What I do like on Yellow, however, is the hair. I think the short hair with a singular braid is really cool. A nice mix of neat and practical and stylish, especially mixed with the glasses.

-One issue I do have is with the boots. All the shoes in general, actually. They all look so samey, especially Blue and Yellow's boots. This is a pretty simplistic style I'm drawing in though, and I don't want to make anything too complicated. Why do shoes have to be so stupid?

-I used to have the same problem with Second's outfit as with Red's - particularly, with their shirt. However, that's when I realized that Second is an artist, and can change their shirt design at the drop of a hat. So, now the shirt has a different drawing on it regularly. Second will try to use all their friends colours in their designs. If they leave a person off, it usually means their either consciously or subconsciously upset with that stick. If they don't draw on their shirt at all and leave it blank, it usually means something's up with them.

-I also added leggings from the previous design. It felt right.

-Both Second and Chosen dislike shoes. I will not elaborate, but Second's tolerance is better than Chosen. He can handle it for short periods of time, but is usually grumpy and will kick them off first chance he gets.

-I like to imagine Second using her large, poofy hair to put things in, the same way she'd put things in their inventory. I also like to imagine Green is low-key horrified by this, while Red, Blue, and Yellow will also use her fluff to store things. Sometimes without Second even noticing.

-Second carries the belt with them in their hair in their inventory and will put it on before fighting/platforming so their oversized shirt doesn't get in their way. Otherwise they prefer to have their clothing loose and flowing.

-Everyone has a multicoloured accessory. Second was the one who started it with his bracelet, then the others wanted some too so Second drew up more for the gang. An anklet for Red, an armband for Yellow, a belt for Green, and a neckerchief for Blue.

-Green may just have the best outfit of everyone here. It's sleek, it's cool, it suits them, and it's easy to fight in (with an easily striped jacket if need be). I also added a lil choker.

-I don't think I expressed this before, but I didn't like Green's previous hairstyle. Something about it irked me, but I couldn't place what at the time. Now I know it'd needed more on top, haha.

-Blue's outfits tend to be more on the practical side, since they do a lot of manual labour, but with bits of fun and whimsy added in. After AvM Season 3, she trades her funny socks for long funny socks and fun stockings.

-The original intent was for everyone to have a different type of hair, but Blue's and Yellow's ended up a lot more similar than I'd hope. The idea was for Blue to have really thick hair, but it's hard to tell. Might think of something else later.

-Anyone who wants something different can go to Second and ask. They all have their own things they like, but they're all willing to try almost anything, with very little exception.

Feel free to let me know your thoughts. I think I really like these character designs I came up with. :)

Original pic used for reference:

#Animator vs Animator #AvA #AvM #Animaton vs Minecraft #Knightmare Art #Orange AVA #The Second Coming #Red AvA #Yellow AvA #Green AvA #Blue AvA #Character Design #Character Art #Redraw #Group photo!#I don't know if I've told anyone this but I love when characters carry reminders of their loved ones around #Pictures or gifts or matching accessories - It's my jam #Tokens of sentimentality my beloved

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tabithatwo · 1 year

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hi hello thinking about how neither lottie or taissa is advocating for their sight or championing themselves.

lottie quietly doing the best she can to lean into what she hopes is real to give the others protection and faith, yes! but it isn’t I CAN LEAD YOU (especially this season) it’s I can quietly do the things that can’t hurt, in case they help. it can’t hurt to prick my finger and they’ve come back safe so far and I’m aware of my mental health I’m OH so aware and I know the dangers of delusions being proven correct by happenstance by setting up an infallible cause and effect by building my own reality BUT but. it’s just a prick and it’s just a sip and if I don’t do it now and they don’t come back safe then I AM the reason. it can’t hurt IT CAN’T HURT.

but see, now she’s stuck. she’s wedged into this place of having followers and she can’t tell them how she feels, partly because she isn’t even sure how she feels to begin with because nothing is real and everything is far too real!! (because BECAUSE lottielee jackieshauna parallels and so much post laura lee was not in our view, we didn’t fall as deep deep deep into the rabbit hole with lottie as we did with shauna, but this season has confirmed it for us. lottie and shauna both lost reality when they lost Them and they were both already girls with a loose grip of reality to begin with) so it’s That, but it’s also because she isn’t Lottie The Girl From New Jersey Who Shoplifts, she’s not herself, she’s what they make of her. she’s Lottie The Reason We Will Survive This.

she was on the other side of this dynamic, she felt that anger at jackie, she felt that sense of betrayal, she felt that letdown, that rebellion in her heart. because jackie wasn’t serving them the way they wanted needed craved being served. jackie couldn’t be that person. jackie who had been divisive in her leadership before they even crashed, because what is leadership if not a spotlight that people can adjust to make you glow like something ethereal or to point out all your flaws with great illumination? jackie had larger than life expectations put on her (and they were warm and sunny and positive some of the time yes, but that all curdles when it’s left in the spotlight too long.)

so suddenly lottie is divisive. there are teams around her and against her and myth built up, but the myth isn’t that she’s the bratty unhelping girl who gets whatever she wants like it became for jackie, the myth is she is our only hope. she is our savior and salvation and seer. and she doesn’t need to even say anything to make that so. jackie didn’t need to say anything to make them color her selfish (other, but bad). lottie doesn’t need to say anything to make them color her anointed (other, but good). she is girl vessel, girl hopes, girl dreams, a witch hunt where she Better Be A Witch.

doomcoming lottie snapped. she was On drugs and she was Off drugs and she was tired and she gave them something to cling to that they could shape into more with the seeds of the past (bear and blood and you get the picture) that they’d already been trying to plant in her image. (jackie did the same that night. she snapped, she yelled, she gave them something to cling to that they could shape into more with the seeds of the past that they’d already been trying to plant in her image, do you SEE??)

and of COURSE natalie understands both lottie and jackie. of course she knows what it’s like to be doing nothing but your best, to not want the responsibility, to be seen more as liability than asset, even though the only reason you can fail so hard is because you provide so much. before the crash and after, because girl carrying the weight of family secrets and girl who bears their insecurities and girl who SEES that they are insecure so she cannot even bring herself to be ANGRY with them and girl who hunts. girl who hunts and feeds, but now who hikes and disappoints, because there is no game to bring home, but that can only be Her Failure because it is Her Contribution, do you hear me are you with me??

so natalie walks for miles and she eulogizes jackie and she steps out of her reward her one small comfort and she makes sure that lottie sinks into the hot water and she apologizes, she apologizes, she apologizes. because maybe she’s mad, maybe she says it isn’t fair in the heat of the moment, but at the end of the day she knows who she is and what she is and all that they’ve made her and she carries that responsibility. (like jackie the girl she wasn’t home to save and lottie the girl she doesn’t know how to reach. it’s too late for them, there are no words to undo it. jackie was sealed when she made captain and natalie was sealed when she pulled the trigger and lottie was sealed when she warned van.)

and taissa finally TAISSA. she has hidden her secret. little girl looking in the mirror and seeing something that shouldn’t be there and older girl who is hearing things that she shouldn’t hear and leading people places she shouldn’t be able to lead them to. she doesn’t want it and she’s made it the Most Known of them all. don’t tell lottie, don’t tell the others, don’t bring it up. and van who champions her so naturally, so routinely, so lovingly for all the normal things. van who believes in the supernatural. van who has simply refused to die. van can’t hold it in anymore, because taissa’s sight Brought Back Javi. but tai doesn’t want her to mention it to the others. tai is perceptive and tai understands power struggles and she’s tired and hates this part of herself and she’s scared and she’s logical and she doesn’t want to Be Lottie (not lottie the girl from New Jersey who shoplifts, but lottie who better be a witch).

so maybe I’m seeing things myself, maybe I’m reading too deep, but here’s what I saw in old wounds.

lottie, who sits quietly while the others discuss her prophecy. lottie, who seems to have developed an openness to a different view of jackie in her death, because she was girl there and now she’s girl gone and she served them again in death and maybe lottie didn’t quite have the right idea of her and maybe lottie is in her seat now, in a way. lottie, who wanders into the snow without ever really agreeing because it was never really a choice, and cuts her hand because it can’t hurt IT CANT HURT.

natalie, who signed up to hunt when it was spring and warm and possible, who knows that it will be hers always and forever now. natalie, who will always be the reason they are starving, more than the reason they are fed. natalie, who is jealous of the girl who is bone, because she was allowed death. natalie, who has sympathy for all of them and knows that lottie has been made her rival through the mechanisms of group projection than her own volition. so she bathes her and tends to her and apologizes to her.

taissa, who has always been a leader and always been under scrutiny but did so in a way She Could Control. taissa, whose deepest secrets are being unfolded before her eyes because she can’t stop herself from divulging them when she is unconscious. taissa, who might start to think that maybe lottie didn’t ask for this.

so jackie is bone, and natalie is hunter, and lottie is seer, and taissa might be even more so. natalie alone in the realm of the mundane (for this), but aware of them all, so I’ll set her aside for a moment.

jackie accidentally opened the door to this spiritualism. she was the seance and doomcoming (and the first communion), but she didn’t mean for it to be that. she meant to cheer them up.

lottie thought that jackie had it wrong, thought that she didn’t use her position to protect the girls, because she refused to work with the woods and lottie tries to save them and protect them and negotiate with the wilderness for them.

taissa thinks that lottie has it wrong, because she feeds into their delusions and her power is a runaway train in this setting and taissa wants to keep them alive in the best way. the practical way. except that logical leadership never led to anything out here and her other self, her spiritual self, found javi after months.

pedestals and wrecking balls and clearer views once you’re hoisted up with the girls on them. girls who are not Them but who are What Others Say. shauna dictating jackie and mari dictating lottie and van dictating taissa and everyone dictating natalie. everyone meaning the best and riding the high of delivering it, until it’s cut out from beneath them. you don’t go from great to fine. the mighty don’t fall to land on a straw bed with the rest of them, thanks for trying and welcome back. they are Icarus and their love for the others is flight and their belief that They Can Do It Better is the sun and the sun burns. in death or in life or in dreams.

and maybe in old wounds lottie understood jackie a little more and taissa understood lottie a little more and nat, who has always been able to understand them all, can watch and wait and hope that it changes things. but it won’t. because they aren’t driving their own stories anymore.

so they’ll hunt and they’ll bleed and they’ll walk in their sleep and, no matter what they say or don’t say, the others will fill in the gaps.

#are you with me or am I losing it the answer can also be both #I’m just thinking thoughts so many thoughts and it’s girlhood and power and pain and proximity you know??#yellowjackets #yellowjackets meta #yellowjackets 2x04 #natalie scatorccio #taissa turner #lottie matthews #jackie taylor #shauna shipman #laura lee yellowjackets #van palmer #mari yellowjackets #jackie x shauna #taissa x van #lottie x natalie #lottie lee

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zombiewhor3 · 1 year

Note

i was wondering if you could make a rick grimes x reader fluff! <33

A FAMILY?

rick grimes x fem reader (season 5 era)

WARNINGS: reader has slight baby fever, young Judith, Alexandria era, cuddly Rick, soft reader/Rick, really just some fluffy stuff,

a/n: sorry for not posting my break ended so i had to go back to school and it's been hectic making up assignments and trying to get everything back in order, i've also been sick all week so enjoy this fluffy request while i try and catch up on more posts and stories to make up for the time i have been gone !!

she hummed softly as she lifted the once whining Judith into her arms, now she was happy as a clam and babbling while she carried a stuffed toy in her hand, y/n smiled as she looked over at the still sleeping Rick who just looked to damn peaceful to wake.

She sat with Judith while pulling off a story book Daryl had found on one of the runs thinking that maybe Judith would've liked it and sure as hell she did, her eyes brightened each time she looked at the bright colored pages and the illustrations, her hand ran over the bunnies that were drawn out on the page.

the light coffee colored pages had small paragraphs of words printed in black ink and a pretty font that y/n had started to read aloud to her, Judith sat back in her arms holding onto the bunny she had while she was focused on the book.

she was just a little over a year old so she was so focused on touching and exploring everything around her, she giggled hearing y/n say the words peter rabbit to her with a bright smile on her face.

Rick had heard the giggle as he flipped around flickering his eyes open to see the two sitting on the love seat in the room, he smiled so bright he thought he was going to explode.

"morning sunshines" he spoke covering himself in the white bed-sheets watching as y/n looked up at him, his daughter to focused on the book to even such as look up at him.

"morning sheriff" y/n teased sitting up with Judith in her arms and placing her down against the bed, she had thought about her own kid with Rick, she thought about giving a sibling to Carl and Judith.

she simply just wanted a family with rick, "what are you thinking about? i can the gears in your brain turning" rick asked propping Judith up against his chest as she fiddled with the book happily content with the pages she couldn't read yet.

"just a family" she spoke rubbing some of Judith's blonde hair from her face while she smiled softly, "the one we have now with all our friends or the family with Judith and Carl?" Rick asked while he rubbed his thumb in circles over the soft skin of her thigh.

"i mean the second one yes, but a new addition to the family would be a better way to put it i guess" she admitted looking down at his hand still rubbing small circles on her.

"like a baby? like Judith?" he asked watching her nod her head she knew it was stupid, she knew it was reckless but somehow someway she just wanted it so damn bad.

"tell you what if things blow over well in the next few months i will give you a baby, hell i'll give you as many as you want" he spoke with a smug smile and a wink referring to the baby making part.

"one little angel will do"

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otomehonyaku · 2 months

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS アニメ公式ノベライズ Official Novelization ☽ Chapter 1 Translation

[…] ☽ [Next chapter]

Hello everyone! It's been a while. I went back to Japan for the first time in ages last month and immediately fell back down the Diabolik Lovers rabbit hole when I went to the Rejet shop...

I recently found this so-called 'anime novelization' on eBay, and thought it might be fun to use it to get back into translating. This book was released as a novel counterpart to the first season of the Diabolik Lovers anime, thus following the storyline of the anime rather than the visual novels (almost to a T).

Please let me know if you like reading these and want me to translate more of it! I'm not exactly sure how active the fandom is anymore, so I think I'll just test the waters with a couple of chapters and see if it'll be fun to translate the entire book. Who knows!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Originally written by Yukuzuki Hiroha 結来月ひろは Translated from the Japanese by @otomehonyaku

STORY Following her father’s job transfer, Komori Yui is sent to live with the Sakamaki brothers. However, these six brothers turn out to be sadistic, ill-tempered vampires. The men are after Yui’s sweet and incredibly rare blood, and go to great lengths toying with her body and soul to get it. Before long, Yui finds herself trapped in an alluringly dangerous love game(1)...

1. 吸血愛戯 (ラブゲーム): Stylised as ‘love game’ but written with the characters for bloodsucking (吸血), love (愛), and play (戯). The latter character also has a connotation of playfulness/mischief.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

DISCLAIMER This is an unofficial translation intended for those interested in reading the story of the Diabolik Lovers game/season in a slightly more literary format in English. I have no affiliation with Rejet or Frontier Works whatsoever. All rights belong to them, but PLEASE DO NOT POST THIS TRANSLATION ELSEWHERE OR TRANSLATE TO OTHER LANGUAGES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.

Now that that’s out of the way—have fun reading! ❤️

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Episode 1

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That day, like any other day, the sky was aglow with twilight. In the quiet forest, which was dimly lit by the evening sun, the sound of a car engine pierced the air. It was a taxi, driving alone on the narrow forest path.

What a pretty sky… Komori Yui thought as she gazed at the sky from the backseat of the taxi.

Yui was an ordinary second-year high school student. She lived with her father, who was a priest, before he had to relocate for work. Yui was sent to live with the Sakamaki family, who were acquaintances of her father's, and so she was currently on her way to her new home.

A lake came into view from the taxi window. The setting sun glittered off the surface of the lake. The wind, carrying the scent of the forest, rustled Yui’s hair when she opened the car window. She spotted a large mansion nestled between the trees through the window on the opposite side.

So that’s where I’ll be living from now on…

The closer the taxi got to the mansion, the wider the girl’s eyes became. Aside from what looked to be the main building, which was built around a courtyard, there were even several auxiliary buildings and a gazebo on the property.

I’ve never even seen a mansion this big before.

Before long, the taxi stopped before a gate that was large enough for two cars to easily pass through at the same time.

“Thank you,” Yui said to the driver and stepped out of the car. The taxi returned into the direction from which they had come.

Yui took her suitcase and looked up at the large, Western-style building beyond the gate. It was a three-storey brick building that might as well have belonged to a family of European aristocrats. Briefly taken aback by the view in front of her, Yui opened the gate and went into the courtyard.

“Wow… I never thought it would be such an elegant house.”

Pulling her suitcase behind her and eying her surroundings with astonishment, Yui made her way to the front door. The entrance was still quite a ways away from where she was, and Yui couldn't quite make it there as she kept falling from one surprise into another.

There’s even a fountain!

The stone statue of a gargoyle was perched on top of the fountain and looked down at her. Yui wondered briefly whether this was the personal taste of the mansion’s owner. As she passed by the fountain, the shadows of raindrops started to appear on the stone tiles underneath her feet.

“Rain?!” Caught off-guard, Yui looked up.

The sky that had been so clear earlier was now black with rain clouds. Just as Yui thought she'd seen a flash of lightning pierce the dark sky, a loud clap of thunder rumbled through the air. Startled by the thunder, she let out a small cry.

“Oh no, even thunder…” Yui clumsily hurried in the direction of the front door. The rain began pouring down the moment she reached it.

Thank God I didn't end up soaked. It wouldn't be appropriate to show up at your new host family’s doorstep drenched to the skin with rain, after all.

Yui faced the door. It was huge and covered in decorative engraving, and she used the ancient-looking door knocker to announce her arrival. The sound of the cold, iron knocker reverberated through the mansion once, twice, but nobody came to answer.

“Excuse me!” Yui called, and extended a hand towards the door.

Before she could reach it, the door inched open by itself with a loud creaking sound.

“Ah!”

Yui flinched backward in surprise. Out of curiosity, she gingerly peeked through the gap in the door. Nobody was there. Did that mean she was welcome to go inside?

As if she'd been invited in, Yui stepped inside, and the door immediately slammed shut behind her.

Once inside, the first thing that greeted her was a lavish entrance hall lit by a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Still, the entrance hall somehow looked quite gloomy, stretching out far into the shadows on either side of her.

“Um… Is anybody there?” Yui ventured once more, her voice echoing off the high ceiling.

“How strange. I wonder if they didn't know I would be coming today,” Yui muttered to herself as she paced through the hall. When she stepped onto the red carpet spread out on the floor, a large staircase came into view. She paused before the stairs, only barely visible under the dim light of the chandelier as she called out again, “Excuse me!”

Once more, her voice rang through the air to no avail. Nobody came.

What should I do?

She might have been looking for the master of the house, but that didn't mean she should feel free to snoop around in someone else's home. Yui was at a loss. She stood stock-still, trailing her eyes over her surroundings, and then she noticed something.

For a brief moment, a bolt of lightning outside cast a sliver of light on a sofa by the window.

Wait, what was…

She only saw it for an instant, but Yui made her way over to the sofa. She saw a figure not unlike the shape of a boy laying on top of it. He seemed about the same age as her, and wore what looked to be a school uniform, but it was completely dishevelled. Under his head was a cushion, which he used as a pillow as he slept.

What an odd place to sleep in… But I’m glad I managed to find someone.

The boy looked to be sleeping soundly when the lightning illuminated his face again. Even though Yui knew it would be rude to wake him up, she called out to him.

”Um… Excuse me.”

She reached out and touched the boy’s hand, but withdrew immediately.

“So cold!”

The boy’s skin had been much colder than she’d expected. Regardless of how long he’d been sleeping on that couch, his body temperature shouldn’t have dropped that much.

He doesn’t even have a temperature to begin with…

“Are you okay?”

Yui started panicking and held an ear to the boy’s chest, but the heartbeat she should have heard never came.

“His heart isn’t beating… Oh no, I have to call an ambulance!”

Yui pulled her phone out of the bag slung over her shoulder, and hurried to call the emergency number, but a hand shot out from beside her and swiftly took the phone right out of her hands.

“Ah!”

“…Shut the fuck up. Who do you think you are, walking into someone’s house yapping like that?”

The boy Yui had assumed had been dead suddenly stood up from the sofa, her phone in his hand, and shot her an irritated glare with his emerald eyes.

“Y-you’re alive?!”

“What?”

The words had escaped Yui’s lips in an involuntary whisper, but the boy didn’t bother hiding his annoyance when he responded.

“Obviously. Who’d you think Yours Truly is?”

The boy responded like this was the most normal situation in the world, but it didn’t make sense to Yui at all.

What’s going on…?

Without realising it, Yui slowly started backing away from him. “But… Your heart wasn’t beating…” She was absolutely positive that she hadn’t heard a heartbeat.

And yet… Why did the boy in front of her look so calm and composed?

A flash of blind panic urged Yui to make a run for it, but the boy caught her in his arms and pushed her onto her back on the sofa.

“Ah! What are you doing?!”

“What, isn’t it obvious? I’m gonna eat you up.” The boy’s face dipped in close, but bent down further to lick the nape of Yui’s neck.

What on Earth…

Yui’s mind reeled at the boy’s unexpected behaviour, and she yelped, but that only made her assailant’s face twist into an amused grin. He bent down again in an attempt to bite into her neck.

“Ayato! What is this? Tone it down.”

The boy—Ayato, apparently—clicked his tongue and glared at the person standing next to the sofa. “Reiji.”

The person Ayato referred to as Reiji was a highly strung-looking boy with glasses perched on his narrow nose. With his calm and polite demeanour and white gloves, he almost looked like a butler, but when Yui looked closely, he was wearing the same uniform as Ayato.

Reiji looked at Ayato over the rim of his glasses with an exasperated expression. “This is the entrance hall. A place where we welcome guests. Please take these sorts of activities to your own room.”

“Ugh, boring.” Ayato reluctantly sat up.

Did this boy just come to save me?

Yui flung herself off of the sofa and scurried to Reiji’s side. “P-please help me!”

He gave her a puzzled look when she called for help. “And you are?”

“Komori Yui. My father arranged for me to stay here.”

“I don’t recall hearing about that.”

After listening to Yui’s explanation, Reiji returned his attention to Ayato. “Ayato, will you explain what’s going on here?”

“What? Like hell I know,” Ayato answered gruffly, and swung a leg up onto the sofa. He looked directly at Yui. “Y’know, Pancake, you could’ve told me all of that earlier.”

“That’s because you attacked me all of a sudden.”

“Huh…”

Somewhat unsurprised that she wouldn’t be able to have a normal conversation with the person who had just plainly assaulted her. Ayato turned away from her as if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

What’s wrong with him? He’s been nothing but rude… Yui thought, and suddenly something occurred to her.

“Wait, you said Pancake… Did you mean me?”

“Of course, you idiot. You really that dense, Pancake?” Ayato cast her an amused sideways glance, clearly making fun of her.

Next to Yui, who was still fuming at the rude nickname, Reiji crossed his arms in thought.

“Strange indeed. Nobody has reported this to me, either.”

Then Yui must have come to the wrong mansion. But still, there aren’t any other houses around here.

“Ah, um, so you are…”

“Let’s not discuss this here. Please follow me. Your luggage will be taken care of.” Before Reiji had even finished talking, Yui noticed that a butler had appeared beside her suitcase.

“Oh!” When did he get here?

The butler acknowledged Yui with a little nod and disappeared with her suitcase. What on Earth is going on in this mansion? A front door that opens by itself, and a butler that appears out of thin air, without a sound. And then there’s…

When Yui cast a glance toward Ayato, who was still sitting on the sofa, his eyes met hers with a disgruntled expression. Remembering what he had done to her earlier, Yui quickly looked away and followed Reiji instead.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Reiji led Yui into a spacious living room. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling gave off a dazzling light, and firewood was burning in the hearth.

“Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you.”

Yui did as he said and took a seat on the sofa.

“You too, Ayato. We cannot have a proper conversation if you do not.”

“Ugh. Fine.”

She watched as Ayato took a seat next to her, and Reiji started to speak.

“Firstly, please do us the courtesy of explaining why you barged into our home without permission.”

“Ah, yes.”

I didn’t really barge in here, though… However, to Reiji and the others, that’s what it must seem like. I should apologise and clear up the misunderstanding.

“Um…” Yui straightened her spine but was interrupted before she could speak.

“Oh, oh, oh! What’s this?” a voice laughed from above. When Yui looked up, she saw a boy peering down at her from the mezzanine. “To think such a cute girl would show up here!” He looked about the same age as Ayato, but wore a black hat on his head. His bright green eyes bore into Yui’s, making her a little nervous.

Has he been there the entire time? I couldn’t even tell. Just as she took in the strange circumstances, a tongue trailed over Yui’s left cheek.

“Ah!”

Did someone just lick me?

Touching her cheek in surprise, Yui looked to the side and was met with the boy who had just been on the mezzanine. What? How did he get over here so fast? Feeling as though she’d been pinched, she cast him an accusatory look.

“Hm… She smells so sweet.”

When Yui pressed her back against the sofa to get away from the boy, another voice suddenly sounded from right behind her.

“Please let me have a taste, too.”

Someone licked her ear this time. Yui spun around and saw a purple-haired boy of small stature there. She cringed at the moist sound of his tongue, pressing a hand to her ear.

“She tastes sweet, too.”

What on Earth is going on? The two boys looked entertained by Yui’s confusion.

Reiji seemed unable to look on, and broke the silence. “You two. That is no way to treat a lady whom you have only just met.”

The boy with the hat whined in protest at Reiji’s reprimanding tone.

“Do you have anything to say, Laito?”

“Well, if something so delicious-looking is put in front of me, I just have to taste it. Right, Kanato?”

“Yeah,” the purple-haired boy replied with a nod.

“Fuck off, all of you!” Ayato wedged his way into the two boys’ conversation.

“Yours Truly found this one, so I’ll be the one to take all of her firsts.”

“...Asshole.”

Ayato frowned at the source of yet another voice filled the living room.

“With your ‘Yours Truly, Yours Truly,’ just shut the fuck up already.”

“The fuck did you just say?” Ayato flung himself off the couch with unnecessary force, and looked around the room. “That’s Subaru, isn’t it? Show yourself, coward!”

“I’m right here.” The sullen voice came from a boy leaning against the wall, presumably Subaru. The white shock of his hair, which covered his right eye, was a stark contrast with his red eyes, which leered at Yui. “I was just thinking it reeked of humans in here. So it’s you. How are you going to compensate for my lack of precious sleep?”

“W-where did you come from?”

“I asked first!” Subaru yelled in annoyance, and slammed a fist against the wall behind him. Cracks began to form in the wall from his fist outwards, sending plaster crumbling to the floor. He fixed his gaze on Yui, who was at a loss for words.

Seeing the dilapidated state of the wall, Reiji sighed heavily as he repositioned his glasses. He turned toward his brothers gathered in the living room.

“Are any of you listening? The lady will be living here from now on.”

There was no response.

“Um, I think there’s been some kind of mistake. I’m sorry for troubling you. I’ll be on my way now.” Yui resolutely rose from the couch.

“Please wait.” Reiji’s voice made her freeze in place when she attempted to flee the living room, her eyes trained on the floor. “I am still confirming the facts. Do you not think it would be rude to leave now?”

“B-but…”

Reiji certainly had a point, but considering the mansion’s other inhabitants certainly weren’t intent on following his orders, Yui could not bear to be there much longer. They’re scaring me…

A new, listless voice came from the direction of the window.

“Are you the woman he told me about?”

When Yui turned to look, she spotted another new face. The boy was spread out lazily on the sofa by the window. He wore the same school uniform as the others, but instead of a jacket, he wore a beige-coloured cardigan over his shirt. He appeared to be listening to music, as a pair of earphones plugged his ears.

There’s one more brother?

“Shuu, what do you know about her?”

“...Nothing much.” Shuu replied dismissively, his eyes closed. Could he hear Ayato even though he was wearing earphones?

“Nonsense. Please elaborate,” Kanato urged.

Shuu reluctantly began speaking. “He… contacted me the other day. He told me we’d be receiving a guest from the church, and to ‘treat her kindly,’ ‘make her feel most welcome,’ all that.”

“The hell? You mean Pancake’s the Chosen Bride?”

An involuntary noise slipped from Yui’s lips at Ayato’s remark. What does that even mean, the Chosen Bride? At the very least, she knew that her father, who had to move away for his job as a priest, had arranged for her to live here, but this was the first time she heard of this whole ordeal. However, contrary to Yui’s astonishment, the brothers listened to Shuu’s explanation rather calmly.

“Ah, I see.”

“A bride? Well, more like a living sacrifice, right?”

…Living sacrifice?

Yui was taken aback by Kanato and Laito’s exchange.

Then, Shuu opened his eyes and spoke as if to deal the final blow. “Right, he also ordered us not to kill her, so…”

Not kill me? What the…?

“Huh… Well, then we’ll be enjoying her company for a long time.”

Meanwhile, Yui had frozen in place.

Reiji ignored her shock as he called her to attention. “Wonderful. It appears that the issue has been cleared up. Then, let us properly introduce ourselves.” He first turned to Shuu. “That is the eldest brother, Sakamaki Shuu. I am the second son, Reiji.” He paused briefly before turning to Ayato and the others. “Those are the triplets. Ayato–”

“I won’t let you get away next time.”

“Kanato–”

“Please let me taste you again. Exciting, isn’t it, Teddy?” Teddy must be the name of the one-eyed bear Kanato was cradling in his arms. The boy tilted his head and giggled.

“And Laito–”

“Let’s have fun together, Bitchlet.” For such a crude name to call a woman, Laito was laughing as he said it.

“Lastly, that’s Subaru, the youngest brother.”

“Ugh, this shit sucks.” Subaru looked displeased at Yui’s presence, and turned away immediately.

Reiji had properly introduced all of the brothers to her, but still, she did not know how to make sense of everything they had said to her. “There must still be some kind of mistake. I haven’t heard anything about a bride…”

Something suddenly occurred to Yui, a peculiar thought poking at the back of her mind. Many strange things had happened to her since she’d arrived here, but the most unsettling thing of all…

“S-something’s… off about all of you…” Yui asked, her gaze gingerly shifting from brother to brother. All of their eyes were trained on her.

What on Earth…

Their cold, piercing gazes radiated danger, and Yui’s fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. I have to get out of here.

“I-I have to contact my father…”

Yui reached for the cell phone in her pocket, but, somehow it had ended up in Ayato’s hands again.

“Ah!” How did that happen? Never mind, this is not the time to think about that. “My phone! Give it back!”

“I dunno about that.” Ayato toyed with her phone, a sadistic smile forming on his face.

I won’t have any means to contact my father if I don’t have my cell phone…

“Give it back, please!” Yui tried to take the phone from him, but every time it seemed just within reach, Ayato dodged her. He seemed to be enjoying the look of despair on her face. He then tossed the phone to Subaru.

Just as she thought he would return it to her, Subaru’s expression changed to a look of disgust, and Yui knew immediately that he wasn’t going to.

“W-what are you doing?”

“This.”

With one swift movement, Subaru snapped the phone in two.

There went Yui’s lifeline to her father. Why are they doing this?

“This is cruel…”

“Shut up.”

Watching the tears forming in Yui’s eyes at the sight of her broken cell phone, Subaru shot her an irritated glare.

“Oh, Bitchlet, don’t be sad!” Laito said cheerfully and patted her shoulder as if to console her. “We’re going to get along great, so you won’t need your cell phone anyway. Okay?”

Before she had time to think about it, she had been sandwiched between Laito and Kanato.

“I’ve been so hungry.”

Kanato edged closer to a now distraught Yui as he spoke, and Laito simultaneously leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“Ah… You smell so good, Bitchlet.”

Huh? I’m not even wearing perfume.

Just as she pondered his remark, the light reflected off something in the corner of her eye. She tilted her head to look, and it turned out to be the canine teeth poking out from Laito’s mouth when he bent down to her neck as if he was going to bite her.

The thunder rumbling in the distance coincided with a fearful scream from Yui, both reverberating through the room.

I have to get out of here. Now.

She dashed for the door, but in her haste, her foot caught on something and she fell flat on her face. Yui scrambled back up, but a flash of pain ran through her leg. Looking down, she saw blood welling up from a cut in the skin of her knee.

Suddenly feeling the brothers’ attention on her again, Yui raised her face. She was met with their ominously glistening eyes. Their unusually sharp canine teeth were now plainly visible. It’s… like they’re…

“V-vampires…”

Yui reached for something in her pocket and held it up in front of her face.

“Eat this!”

It was the rosary that she’d gotten from her father.

Vampires should be weak to crucifixes! However, much to her disappointment, the brothers didn’t cower in fear. From the sofa by the window where Shuu lay, Yui even heard a low, mocking laugh.

“Huh?”

Why didn’t it do anything?

“Good grief…” Reiji said, exasperated. “The theories that vampires are weak to garlic, crucifixes, the sun, and that sort of thing… are all myths invented by humans. Did you earnestly expect that to work on us? That only proves how foolish you humans really are. This is most displeasing.”

Oh…

Yui made a dash for the door.

“You really haven’t an ounce of discipline, have you?” she heard Reiji say irritatedly from behind her as she ran.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sound of Yui’s desperate, careless footsteps echoed through the entrance hall as she ran. The thought that they were not just no ordinary humans, but actual vampires, was incomprehensible.

I have to get out of here as fast as I can!

Having run blindly focused on getting away, Yui came to a halt. Wait, which way should I even go? She wasn’t sure if it was because the mansion was so big, but there were so many hallways that looked so similar to one another that she quickly lost track of where she was. However, she had no time to hesitate. I have to run, or they’ll catch up to me…

Yui sped off again at the memory of the threatening look in their eyes.

Shortly after that, she spotted a table loaded with different kinds of sweets at the end of the hall. What is this doing here? As she eyed the sweets in suspicion, Kanato suddenly appeared from the shadow under the table.

“I’ll break you.”

“Oh!”

The way Kanato smiled at her made her quickly continue her path. What was he doing there?

A small desk with a landline phone on it caught Yui’s attention when she turned the corner into another hallway.

Good, I can use it to contact my father… If I can, I could make it out of here somehow… Yui picked up the receiver, but the cord that she thought had been connected to the phone before had now been cut.

Oh no… Briefly stunned, she lost hope.

From somewhere in the distance, Laito’s voice called out to her. “Hehe… I told you you wouldn’t need a phone anymore living here.”

Yui frantically looked around to see where he was. Laito was nowhere in sight.

“Come and find me, Bitchlet…”

He probably enjoyed the sight of her frightened. Laito’s voice made her shrink away in fear. While scrambling backwards, she bumped into someone, and Yui held her breath as she felt hands closing around her shoulders.

Please, no…

“Guess who?”

Yui yelped.

Terrified by Laito whispering so close to her ear, she quickly shook off his hands and ran.

When she somehow finally reached a door, it wouldn’t budge. No way! Why won’t it open?

“Please, please open!” She pounded her fists on the door, but it didn’t help at all. I’m going to have to look for a different way out…

Before she could move away, two hands reached out on either side of her and pushed Yui’s body against the door. It was Ayato.

“Where are you going? This is the part where you scream for my amusement. Let me hear you cry out, at the top of your lungs.”

Yui was trapped in his arms.

“You can’t run away, you know.”

The girl was somehow able to shake Ayato off as well, and ran in the opposite direction, deeper into the mansion. I’m better off finding a place to hide…

Upstairs, Yui found a room that looked suitable for hiding, but the door didn’t open when she turned the knob. As she ran down the dimly-lit hallway on the second floor, she heard the sound of something unlocking.

Yui spotted a spiral staircase further down the hall. Did it come from up there?

She followed the stairs and came to a stop in front of yet another door. Padlocks and chains were scattered on the floor before it.

It’s unlocked. I should hide in there.

Yui went in and shut the door behind her.

The dim moonlight gave the room a gloomy atmosphere. Yui looked around. There were many pieces of furniture and paintings with sheets draped over them, as well as different kinds of tools. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, making it seem like nobody ever came in here. It might be a storage room, Yui thought as she padded through the room to a dresser. Her eyes fell onto the accessories spread out on top of it, which were adorned with gemstones and glittered in the moonlight. But if they’re laid out like this, this must be someone’s room after all?

Yui’s gaze unintentionally shifted to the window.

A woman was standing on the balcony.

The woman’s back was turned to Yui, so she couldn’t see her face, but her long purple hair shone in the moonlight. She gave off an elegant aura in her long dress, which was almost as purple as her hair.

The purple-haired woman noticed Yui’s presence. Just as she turned to look at her, an intense pain spread through Yui’s torso.

Yui choked on air.

What’s happening?

She had never experienced such pain in her chest before.

I can’t breathe… Her heart started beating erratically, her vision slowly becoming blurry. The pain was so severe that she lost her footing and collided with the bookcase along the wall, sending books tumbling to the floor. Yui could only focus on bearing the agony.

After a little while, the pain subsided.

What on Earth was that?

Yui snuck another glance towards the window, but saw nothing but the new moon in the night sky outside. Did I just imagine all of that? The pain in her chest and the illusion of that woman might not even be so strange in the line of things that had already happened today.

The books that had fallen from the bookcase caught Yui’s attention. Alongside a number of books was a leatherbound notebook. Her eyes stopped on a picture that had slipped out from between the pages when she had bumped into the bookcase.

“This is… Dad?!”

The picture depicted a priest holding a small, sleeping baby. So that baby is…

“Me?”

But how did this picture get here?

When Yui looked at the notebook from which the picture had slipped out, the writer summarised their day’s events and achievements in a familiar handwriting.

“So this is my father’s diary. But why?”

Why would it be here of all places? I might understand if I look inside.

She opened the diary and began reading.

Yui brings me so much joy. The fact that she is not my own child bears no meaning at all. She is truly a blessing, and I am nothing but grateful for every day I get to spend with her…

Yui could not believe her eyes.

“What does he mean, I’m not my father’s child? What is this diary even doing here?”

Am I not his biological child? It couldn’t be so…

“To think you went into this room, of all places.”

The sudden sound of Reiji’s voice made Yui look up, and she saw that the Sakamaki brothers had somehow all gathered in the room in the blink of an eye.

“This is a forbidden room. Nobody is allowed inside.” Reiji glanced at the door and let out a heavy sigh. “I will have to put new locks on it.”

“Really, though. How did you even get in, Bitchlet?” Laito asked and crouched down before her, but even Yui did not know why the room had been unlocked.

I didn’t even unlock it myself…

Yui tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t quite come out.

Kanato stood before her as well, leering down at her. “You’re nothing but food, so please stay still so I can eat.”

“I-I’m not food…”

“Quit complaining already.”

Yui shrieked when Subaru slammed a fist into the wall like he had before, sending more books falling from the bookcase to the floor.

“Oh, not again, Subaru.”

“Fuck off.”

While Laito and Subaru bickered with one another, Yui looked on, frightened beyond her wits. What should I do? I’m surrounded. There’s no way I can run now.

What are they going to do with me?

“That face…”

Someone grabbed her chin and forced her to look up. There was Ayato, his face splitting into a satisfied grin.

“It’s so tempting.”

“Let me have a bite, too!”

“I want to lick her.”

“N-no…”

The triplets started towards Yui.

“You have no right to refuse. The only thing you need to know is this: you can most definitely not run from us,” Reiji stated plainly.

“Beating around the bush, as always. What he means to say is that we’ll kill you if you try to get away.”

Yui had no choice. She was surrounded by the triplets as she quietly took in Reiji’s and Subaru’s words. On either side of her, Ayato and Laito took turns turning her neck this way and that, and when Kanato stretched out a hand towards her, Yui let out a fearful scream.

“Please stop!”

CRASH!

Yui screamed, and the sound of glass breaking pierced the air. The triplets, who had been swarming around her in an attempt to steal her blood, snapped their heads in the direction of the sound.

A few landscape paintings had fallen over by Shuu’s feet, and glass was scattered all across the floor.

“My bad,” Shuu said, and turned his back toward her. Yui’s eyes must not have conveyed her desperate need to be saved from the triplets.

While she was rooted in place, terrified, the realisation dawned over Yui.

Even if I run, I have nowhere to go.

“Hey, Pancake.”

Yui, still startled at the nickname, turned around. Her mind could barely keep up when Ayato grabbed her by the throat and pushed her down onto the floor.

“Are you ready to accept your fate?”

His eyes had a dangerous twinkle in them as he hovered over her. Yui could no longer find the resolve to move away. Ayato pinned her to the floor and held her gaze, his sharp fangs glistening in the light of the new moon peeking through the window.

Please, save me…

“Oh, God!”

However, Yui’s voice never reached Him.

#my japanese has gotten so much better since I translated the CL stuff too (and like half of every page of this book is blank space lol)#so that makes it really easy to translate tbh but I don't want to promise anything since I kinda disappeared without a trace last time ;-;#also idk if any of you noticed but most of the drama CDs have been removed from soundcloud?#so yeah i've had a stable job for a while now (nice) which has allowed me to hoard my favourite drama CDs from the franchise (also nice)#i bought 8 of them in the past 2 months whoops #i also got a bunch of stuff from the purify blood kuji and i might put it up for sale later bc it's mostly characters that i don't like hah #like what do i do with a naked shin pillow case. it looks really nice but how do i explain that when someone comes over dkjfdkjfjkd #but yeah glad to be back here i hope you're all doing splendid!#diabolik lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers translations #diahell #my translations #otomehonyaku #Diabolik lovers novelize #Diabolik lovers novelization

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