#god the brainrot is claiming me

[gert-the-disaster]

MITCH WHERE ARE MY KIDS

[chrollohearttags]

snooze • portgas d. ace

your boyfriend can’t sleep unless you’re by his side..for many reasons.

sleepy/sonmo sex, hints of free use, modern au, black fem reader, early morning quickie, creampie, nipple play, teasing, him whimpering a lot :(, just some domestic, soft smut, pet names used

word count: 2.0K

📝: as you all can see, my brainrot for this man has become so god awful, I fear it will take a shovel to dig me out of these trenches. But I love it here! (also, the title is not based off of the song by any means.)

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2:15AM…

night had long fell cast over the sky..faint inklings of stars littered the black backdrop as tiny white dots. The vibrant moon illuminating the entirety of the sleepless city as the daily bustle of blaring car horns and menial chatter has slowed to the sounds of a few cars either heading home or starting the day early. Through the window of the third story apartment where you resided..shined a single beam of light on two sleeping bodies. Entangled in the warmth of the sheets on the chilly winter night..underneath, limbs intertwined as you enjoyed the bliss of sweet slumber..

“Mmmph..”

faint mumbles arose as they vibrated against the crook of your neck. Your boyfriend’s face was nuzzled between the crevice of your neck as he shuffled around in his sleep. His muscular, inked up forearms coiled around your waist with his hands placed to your abdomen; holding you close to him. Nowhere else in the world that either of you would rather have been..it was paradise, an absolute dream..and for your doting, sweet man..he was enjoying it quite a bit! The friction of his lower half rubbing against your backside; gently rutting his hips into your plump flesh as to not ruffle too much but make you subtly aware of his intentions. Those hands eventually roamed from your waist and tummy to the top of your body, resting idly on your breasts. He seemed restless, for a better lack of terms. Although he probably slept more than the average person due to his narcolepsy, Ace did have his weaknesses. For example, he couldn’t be at peace unless you were plastered to his side. You were his comfort, his peace and he couldn’t function unless you were right there. But alas, it wasn’t the only reason he enjoyed lying next to you every night..it definitely had its other perks. Just like at that moment, where he was toiling with the lace on your short silk teddy. The one that barely even covered your ass as you walked away..the one that had his mind straying to less than savory thoughts when you were awake. It couldn’t be helped..your body was an absolute work of art that he could admire for hours on end and never grow tired. Neither one of your eyes were open; still far too exhausted to do so, but he’d slowly feel you up as you laid there quietly. Running his fingertips along the delicate portions of your skin, still muttering and eventually, leaving gentle pecks on your shoulder blade. “Baby…” the only thing he managed to get out before muttering against your neck once more.

Meanwhile, you could still feel his pelvis bumping against you..naturally, you didn't hesitate to meet him halfway. It was obvious that neither of you were going to truly be able to rest until you achieved your mutual goal. Because truth be told, when you couldn’t doze off the way you wanted or your body wanted craved more than just sleep to replenish it, there was only one way to quell that urge:

“..need you so bad..”

hell, it was all the more fun when you pretended to be fully asleep..giving him full fledged permission to use your body when he saw fit. Taking claim to it when he was ready. Sometimes, you loved it when he woke you up with his cock nestled deeply inside of you or vice versa, when your pretty little lips, wrapped around his shaft, drove him out of slumber. It was easy to surmise that he was going to take advantage of said consent..made things all the more sexier. Still mumbling, you’d begin to whine very faintly as you felt the covering of your top be pulled down and your nipples exposed to the cool air. They were erect and sensitive to the touch. Practically writhing each time he so much as even brushed them. By this time, you were also wiggling your hips and bogging yourself onto his crotch. It was clear that things were about to intensify and neither of you wanted to put a halt to this little charade either.

2:30AM…

“..you’re so wet, baby..this all f’r me?’ His words seem to have fallen on deaf ears but he could tell by your physical reaction, that wasn’t the case..you were clutching the sheets far too tight for someone that couldn’t feel a thing. You were only becoming more and more aroused by the minute..that silky slick coating his fingertips. Meanwhile, you could feel his bulge pressing against your cheeks..so swollen, it were as if he’d burst any minute. “Don’t be shy, you can tell me..” a faint chuckle rising among his deep voice, rattling off whilst he held you close. This man had talked you through many orgasms with that heavy tone of his and he knew how much you loved when he spoke to you all quietly like this. “That’s okay..I know what you need..” he was very much vocal and yet, he was still seemingly asleep. His eyes still shut!..but it wouldn’t remain that way for long because as Ace reached down to tug at his waistband, removing his cock from its confines, (y/n) very subtly hoisted your leg, assuring him that you wanted this just as badly..taking the hint, he’d clutch your waist and pull you towards him, smacking that tip to that warm, juicy slit of yours. Almost as if his senses were incredibly heightened..his mind constructing a roadmap of your beautiful body and no vision was needed. A giant smirk lay plastered across his face. He couldn’t wait to be inside of you.. “Let me have you, please..fuck..” that once deep voice becoming desperate and whimpering in a high pitched wail; that mushroom tip aching and leaking with the absolute need to be fill your hole. To take claim of your special spot only the way he knew how.. “..shit..” “..mmph!” Simultaneously reactions from each of you. It seemed that you could no longer maintain your silent charade and he could no longer fight those insatiable urges..and both of you were ready to fuck until your bodies truly tired out beyond repair. The kind that would undoubtedly put you right back to sleep..

2:40AM

sounds of clashing flesh ricocheted around the room, the clapping noises of his pelvis colliding with your heavy asscheeks as he pounded into you. A cusped hand stationed around your throat to keep you reigned in when you began to pull away from the strokes he was feeding your greedy cunt. Unable to quell his whiny cries because of the sensation. He’d never felt anything like it! So warm and silky..it was a miracle he hadn’t gotten you pregnant yet..constantly finding it hard to pull out once he was inside of you. Rutting into you like a pathetic pup rutting his pillow. A sheath of wetness forming from the constant thrusting..and his earlier teasing. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight, baby..pussy’s so fucking good..” the sweet nothings rattled off into your ear with his dick nestled deep between your folds.. “..shit! Right there..so good..” heavy huffs breathing down your neck whilst he persisted. Pulling you even closer, Ace tilted your head back slightly to lace your jawline and throat with sloppy pecks. It was absolute bliss if you’ve ever felt it. “I love you..love you so fucking much, baby. Thank you for letting me wake you up like this..” a faint chuckle arising from between his moans. It was blatantly clear to see that he was enjoying this little early morning rendezvous more than you could imagine. “I love you—oh fuck!…’s too much..'' crying out with your hand smacking the mattress and clutching the sheets. Your legs shook violently and all you could do was withstand the sensation of that thick, throbbing cock bottoming out inside of you. Sometimes, it was a miracle if you could fit it all..he was so lengthy as well and you’d oftentimes find yourself begging him to take some out around the five inch mark. “Aw, baby..you’re so small. Just makes stretching you out all the more fun..” referencing not your body type, but rather that pretty pussy..regardless of how many times you two had sex, you still managed to wrap around and squeeze him to no end. Cream slathered all down the entrance and he would lean up to examine the mess, along with the ripple of your thick ass via the moonlight..

2:48AM

“F-fuck..gonna come, daddy..please!”

“Ooh, I love when you call me that..are you gonna let go f’r me, sweetheart?”

Still lying on your side with your leg hoisted high, he’d continue going..even teasing your clit to add to the euphoric feeling. Both of your eyes had peeled wide open and there was no halting this passionate round of love making. The name causes a throbbing sensation to rattle off inside of you as his cock twitches yet again.

“So let me see that pretty face when you do, baby. Come on, let it out—“ amid the resuming of his deep strokes, Ace would coddle your face in his palm, sweet talking you through that impending orgasm. Spinning your face around to meet his own. He was always such a kind and attentive lover. Making certain that you got yours long before his own. His true satisfaction lies in seeing you grip the sheets and call out his name. It didn’t take long before he was granted his wish and you were heaving as that orgasm came barreling out of that entrance and splattering his thighs as he fucked it out of you slowly. Emitting gentle streams with each thrust until you couldn’t spill another drop.

“Aww, good girl..good girl..you’re squirting. So fucking wet..I love it.”

you’d find yourself caught in another kiss shortly thereafter; passionately and slowly…but that wasn’t the end of this. He needed to keep going until he had nothing else left to offer..until you were filled to the brim with every last drop of him. “Nnnngh!..” “I know, pretty..I know..but you’re doing such a good job..I don’t wanna stop.” Growling and laughing in your ear as his strokes became a lot rougher and more sporadic. He was nearing his peak. That much was evident by the way his nails dug into the flesh of your hip. Met with the recoil of your thick ass each time. You were squeezing him so tight, he could barely withstand it. So with a couple more sharp, pounding thrusts, you’d find your boyfriend clutching onto your skin and drilling until you felt it all come to an abrupt halt.. “f..fuck!..hold still, baby. I’m so close—“ a mere few seconds later, you’d feel his movements cease but those hot, thick ropes of cum pouring into your womb. Filling you up with every ounce of his seed until he couldn’t go any further. Whimpering and crying out for you in the process. Begging you to let him breed you..and once he finished, Ace would remain inside of that tight cunt, stroking the side of your face and marking your temple with light kisses.

“That was perfect, sweetheart..”

“Yeah..thank you, baby..”

3:00AM

[tubbytarchia]

Doc and Jimmy brainrot part 1 lmao oh no

Basically "What if Doc was in the Life games and Jimmy triggered his parental instincts again". You guys will see my vision. I don't care what it takes. You will see this very specific vision I have god damn it if it's the last thing I do

This is all I have to use as propaganda right now but some ideas and justification below cut!!

Been imagining a lot of Doc/Jimmy interactions both in a traffic and HC context, both of which I'd love to draw for but obvs this for now is 3rd life and I want to draw a little something for each Life series. You'll see!!

The general idea is inspired by a moment from one of the Decked Out streams in which Jimmy calls for Etho and Doc's all "you're triggering my parental instinct... I wanna take you into my hand and take you to a safe place" yep that's it that's the whole inspiration!!

Jimmy deserves love and he does get it to various degrees ofc (Tango, Bad Boys etc) but man... It's so fun to me to imagine Doc in traffic, I think he claimed that he didn't want to be part of the life games because he was afraid of being too competitive (or so I heard), but god it's so fun to imagine big scary mad scientist goat man in that scenario and him probably going at it on his own a lot of the time, but this god forsaken mf Jimmy knows exactly how to unintentionally trigger his parental instincts. I want Doc to subtly take Jimmy under his wing especially as Jimmy keeps dying first. So maybe Jimmy is a bit incompetent and loud as far as he knows, but he sees that he's trying his best and the dad in him can't help but intervene just a tiny bit (and I do mean just a tiny bit) as the games go on. Yes I'm just gonna shove Doc into the Life Games just because I wish this dynamic could have happened and I beg you to put up with it!!

For the above drawing specifically since, sigh, I'm slow and that's all I have to offer rn... it's of course 3rd life, starting off. I imagine Jimmy's wings sprouting during that, because the whole "canary curse" began with the Life Games etc. And this post isn't about FH but just for context as I imagine it, Scott who doesn't like unpredictability convinces him to clip his wings (thanks Bree) because Jimmy's not a proper avian (unlike Grian who has a more "airborne" body, bird feet etc rather than just... wings) and he'd never be able to take flight anyway, those wings would only encumber him. (And then Jimmy keeps clipping them himself until DL Ranchers but cough this post isn't about that). I imagine the avians (for my specific roster, just Grian) have their wings magically clipped anyway just enough to prevent flight and make the games fair. Doc ofc isn't avian himself but he knows that Grian greatly frowns upon the act of willingly clipping wings so when he sees that Jimmy's quickly growing wings have been clipped as well, he can't help but ask, because why would that be necessary while his wings are so small anyway? And Jimmy's response triggers a wee bit of fatherly concern in him but thats it for 3rd life woo

For the rest I just wanna draw more tiny moments of interaction until I get to Secret Life, I guess!! The brainrot is really fucking strong guys

[astralnymphh]

♯┆spacesoldier/spacescientist!ellie: who won't shut up about the hookup between you and her from the night before, and longs to do it again, fully. .ᐟ ★

literally don't question the randomness of this blurb. i run on revelations and sudden visions, and this one was just too hot to let rot. i had to pause a whole request for this thing. and it's a bit rushed, i'll like expand on it some other time i just wanted to return to this trope. anyways, I digress— space scientist ellie, nine month voyage through the cosmos, hookups.. tipsy hookups.

it'd be morningtime in the wake of certain events preceding that memories would slowly begin to prick through the surface— owing to ellie's imperfect subtlety. hills and hills of planetary research, prototype weaponry, instructions on how to properly utilize said prototypes, and coffee-stained reports, dawdled through like the process couldn't get any more boring than it presently is; stress, procrastination, a murk in the thick of your thoughts— literal brainrot. then, the main office zone gate slides open, that little airy whir pulls through your ears, and the person that walks through foments sudden recollection to the promotion party last night. ellie. a new recruit under your stations wing— and the immodest girl who was under your hood many hours ago.

ellie is a damnable pesterer of love; portending that if you've ever been intimate with her, she'll be stuck to you like an idiot's tongue adheres to icicles in wintertime. and tipsy her definitely was after you two had sex: pleading for you to stay a minute longer to cuddle, pressing every work-related praise hot into your nape, mentioning how good you taste out of the blue, so on and so forth. yet now that it is a bright and advantageous morning, and considering that she woke up to the scent of you woven through each fiber of her clothes— she remembers, and she reminds.

ellie's got her legs crossed, arms crossed, leaned against your desk's edge, small butt of hers rudely stamping one of your precious folders; the usual stance she does when you're plying your trade, and she prying for attention. "seriously. thursday, you and me, conference room number twenty-seven, i'll bring wine and fetch dinner from the canteen— please?" an earnest ask, you can sense it in her tone; evenly pitched and soft, softer when she pleads, as always, albeit that the spaceship you dwell in has no actual restaurant so dating environments are centered around some good old D.I.Y and empty meeting rooms. her foot winds out slightly to tap the spokes of your office chair, nudging the focus you so dearly casted to the papers below you, to her instead. which regrettably works; tossing an eye roll as you spin, "dates and recreational dinners don't fit into anyone's schedule here, you know that." it aches to claim that, and aches harder to see her take that hit of an that answer. watching her head drop and her mouth tug into a contemplative shape that wanted to battle it out with excuses, loopholes, promises— but it forms into a grin rather, and decides to be impish. "had time for last night though, didn't we? a great time, actually, n' i wanna see where that.." her voice sinks into the pit of her throat— deep and reserved — and her thumbs start to do that cute fiddly thing at her waist, rolling over each other while the rest of her fingers intwine and overlap, "—takes us?" modifying her words into a delicate, unsure question. a toothy, one-sided smile and sad puppy brows, ugh you could just pinch her cheeks. but of course, she spices up the deal, "hopefully.. back into my room, if my flirting skills aren't total shit." annoyingly rambling as a way to showcase how gravely you've impacted her mind the last twelve or so hours. so grave, you're the only thing her motivation could cling upon to urge her limbs and weasel her sluggish weight out of bed earlier. "please?"

that please chisels a smile into your lips, unfortunately-fortunate, "god, you're so bad, williams." poking fun at her and coasting the wheeled chair away with the back of your knees straightening, rising from your seat with documents in-hand, and agreeance in-mind; written ripe on your lifted cheeks.

"was i?" said indirectly, a cocky implication twisting her cheeks to the same level as yours. it took you— let's say, two, three, awkward seconds of squinting before you understood her crafty-ass joke that took your words a completely different, and lewd direction. stupidly faced too: cocking her brow with the scar slicing through, and cocking one side of her head upwards too, overall just cocky. now you could just squeeze her annoying face until it exploded. figuratively.

"shut up." "okay."

MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . READ THIS . PALESTINE MP . DOC VER

[yuyusboyfriend]

i’m no writer but i’m always having massive amounts of brainrot so may i offer the idea of professor!yunho and student!reader,, yk, the whole reader can’t focus in class bc prof jeong is just so hot and he catches on but doesn’t do anything about it until they’re actually on the brink of failing the class so he calls them up to his office and then the rest is history

im sorry im a sucker for power imbalances hides back in my corner

Oh my god. Professor Yunho brain rot is so real. THANKS SM ANON FOR THE ASK🫶

Meet me after class.

pairing: professor!yunho × reader

wordcount: 2,6k

warnings: aged up Yunho (late twenties +), reader early 20s, non idol au, afab reader (use of words cunt, clit, pussy - no mentions of chest), dom!Yunho/sub!reader, use of pet names (baby, star, sweetheart, tiny,) use of Sir, cunnilingus (pussy, once again, ate), rough sex, LOTS of praise, yunhos a sweetheart, also a beast iykwim, lmk if theres anything else

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Every single day you attended classes like the exemplary student you are. You've always had decent enough grades, whether you honestly liked the lesson or just crammed the last second before exams; you've never "flopped" as your friends would say. It stayed this way until you started taking classes taught by the most stunning man you'd ever seen in your lifetime, Professor Jeong Yunho. When you walked into class for the first time 30 minutes early to claim your seat, you had already been beaten to the front rows by numerous other students. Weird, you thought, most people flock to the other end of the classroom—until you saw the professor arranging his papers at the front of the small lecture hall.

You stood frozen on the steps, staring at the older man. His obsidian-black hair fell just above his eyes, moving against his batting eyelashes as he concentrated on whatever he was reading at his desk. His discarded blazer is on the back of his chair, giving you a full view of his toned back and rounded shoulders in his white dress shirt. You're pretty sure your underwear was already ruined once you looked at his rolled-up sleeves, seeing his muscled forearms tensing while he fiddled with his silver rings. You felt relieved seeing no wedding ring though.

His dark eyes scanned the class as he noticed more students flooding through the lecture room doorway, pausing once they landed on your awestruck figure. His deep gaze was what finally broke you out of your trance, forcing your legs to start walking towards your seat, as near to the front desk as you could get. You made a mental note to arrive earlier next time, even if you had to sit between 20 other thirsty students trying to get time with the professor.

You found that Jeong Yunho's class wasn't impossible (on top of his good-looking self, he was a profoundly competent teacher), but it also wasn't for the weak who only came to eye up the man teaching. That being said, the class dropped from seventy-odd students to 40 in the first few months, and the way your grades were going, you were next in line.

Every class, Professor Yunho would drag his eyes over your form as you tapped away on your laptop, making your stomach quiver and your head dazed. As more students left, he gave the remaining more attention, walking around to see if anyone needed help.

"Y/n? How's your work going?" he spoke over your shoulder just above a whisper to not distract anyone else in your area. His knuckles brushed against your back accidentally while gripping your chair, sending involuntary shivers across your body. You begged the man hadn't noticed how your body reacted to him just being in your vicinity for your self-preservation. He had. He always sensed your gaze on him while he was teaching; you weren't very secretive about it either, seeing as everyone else was looking down, typing out his words.

"It's- I'm good! I mean the work, not me. It's fine." You stumbled over your words, scared to see his expression at the fool you just made of yourself. You were stunned to see the corners of his mouth turned upwards, slightly eyes soft looking back at you. A simple smile from him managed to rip the air from your lungs so effortlessly.

In the short months that he had been your teacher, you became infatuated with the man. When you weren't in his classes, all you could think about was him. You wondered what he had for breakfast, what he was wearing today—although, not much was left to the imagination as your friends snapped pictures of him crossing campus and sent them to you. It annoyed you that they would do it without his consent, yet you still saved every photo to the locked collection on your phone. Not to mention your dreams lately; God, as if your mind wasn't a powerful enough tool to daydream with, your dreams went above and beyond; You'd wake up and need to hop in the shower from the mess you had made in your sleeping state.

The current reoccurring dream was you bent over his desk, his hand on the back of your neck and his hips ramming into yours. He grunted as he kept up his relentless pace. You found yourself almost drooling at the reminiscence of it again, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. You sat in the campus café, trying to refine your most recent assignment for his class; Your grade in his class was still at rock bottom—just then the little bell above the door signalled the arrival of another customer.

Oh. Professor Jeong Yunho strode through the door, his jacket in his arm and a backpack strap on his shoulder. He carried on to the counter ordering "the usual" and sat at a table near the window. The outside light framed his face perfectly as he watched people pass by, sipping on his cold coffee before pulling out a small stack of papers to mark. You had forgotten why you were even there until some people stood in front of your line of vision, forcing you to redirect your gaze. Fuck, the assignment you thought knowing it was due in 20 minutes, indicated by the sight of Yunho walking out of the door, not before nodding at the baristas- and you. His eyes did a quick scan of you before he walked away in the direction of your next class.

You had barely managed to finish it and make it to class on time, knowing you had hardly gone over your writing to check for errors.

"Y/n, Could you meet me after class in my office? I would like to discuss your current grades." His deep tone made you nearly fall out of your seat; you were so concentrated on your thoughts on how good he looked today, that you hadn't noticed him approaching you. You felt your stomach sink at his serious expression. Had you gotten too distracted by the gorgeous man, so badly that you were getting kicked out of his lectures? He walked away to start the lesson before you had a chance to even ask for specifics. This was going to be a long few hours.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" you looked at the man sitting at his desk, like a king on his throne. Even now, you could only think about how fine Yunho looked with his tie slightly loosened and sleeves rolled up showing off his biteable forearms. The way his long fingers tapped on his desk as he looked over at your form standing in his office door frame.

"Yes, close the door behind you and take a seat, please." Your heart raced as you sat across him meeting his gaze once again. "So your grades have been pretty low all semester y/n, but now it's reaching a point where you're going to fail if you carry on." He paused to stand up, before continuing," I've spoken to your other professors and checked your files, You've always had good grades, so what's got you so distracted in my class, hm?" he leans against the desk, the same side as you now and tilts his head. What do you even say? Sorry teach I'm so horny for you please do me against every surface in this room?

"I- I'm not sure, I'll get onto it though sir and-" You feel his presence step closer to you.

"You're not sure, are you? That's interesting, because I'm pretty sure I know what's got your little head so busy, so I'll ask again. What's got you so distracted, sweetheart?" He towers over you staring deep into your soul, feeling as though he can see every dirty thought flying around your brain. He brings his large hand down to your face, softly gripping your chin to stop you from averting your gaze again.

"...You." You whisper under your breath, opting to close your eyes, so you don't have to face him.

"Quick learner." Was the last thing he said before he pushed his face forward to meet your lips. As soon as you registered what was happening, you stood up and deepened the kiss you had been so desperate for. He gripped your hips and shoved you against the desk as his tongue swiped along your lip demanding access. Your breathing had become heavy and unstable, not feeling all that attached to oxygen now that you were attached to Yunho's soft lips. He broke the kiss to swipe his pen holders and a couple of papers off of his desk to replace them with your ass. Truthfully, Yunho had already packed all of his belongings away for the day, hoping that this would be the outcome of your visit.

You rutted against his body, back arching to get friction anywhere as he started toying with the waistband of your clothes, not pulling them down yet. "What do you need tiny? You need my cock? My fingers? My tongue? Tell me what you need baby." His voice had dropped into the sexiest, deepest tone; you could feel it in your body as he held himself against you.

"All. Everything." You huff out, still trying to gain friction on his forming bulge.

"I need to know more than that my star, tell me what you've been fantasising about while I've been teaching you." He's known what you've been thinking about for a while, you realise, making you feel even hotter in his grip.

"I… I thought about sitting under your desk, sucking you off while you try to teach the class, and you bending me over your desk as punishment…" You weren't able to stop the words falling out of your mouth along with heavy breaths as he pressed light kisses down your neck, groping your thighs and hips as you spoke.

"Such an obedient student, hm? Now I'm going to fuck you with my tongue, and if you're good, I might let you come on my fingers. How's that sound, baby?" you moan at his words, nodding your head frantically.

"Words." He sternly whispered on your neck, halting all of his movements.

"Please Yunho- sir", He shivered at you saying his name so needily and lifted your hips to pull off your trousers and underwear, stuffing the underwear in his pocket before dropping to his knees between your legs.

"Am I getting those back- ngh!" A moan ripped out of you before you could even finish what you were saying as he licked a stripe across your weeping cunt till he reached your clit. The feeling had you bucking your hips into his face, but he held your thighs in a tight vice, fingertips gripping into your soft flesh. He groaned as he ate you out, mouth working its magic as he brought you closer to relief. The way he flicked his tongue against you had you grasping his soft hair. You had been so desperate to do that since you first saw him; it was just as nice as you had imagined.

"You're so good for me," the heat of his words hitting your thigh as it kissed it, before bringing his index finger to your hole and filling you. You gasped at the intrusion, unable to concentrate on the sensations as he went back to sucking your over-sensitive clit, moans spilling out of your throat.

"Sir please let me cum- I can't-" you stuttered as he slipped another finger in and sped up his pace, realising you wouldn't have to ask twice for your approaching release. He felt your hole clench around his long fingers as you rode them through your orgasm. Yunho watched your fucked out face as he licked your overstimulated pussy once more, before pulling the zipper on his slacks down and fishing a condom out of his pocket. You sat up to help him pull his dick out of his boxers, him letting out a small whimper as you ripped the condom packet with your teeth and slid it down his hard-on painfully slow, earning a pinch on your thigh. God, he looked delicious like this; Hair dishevelled, trousers just pulled down only enough to have his cock out, his tie loosened and top buttons undone, soft tummy peeking out of the ridden-up shirt as he looked down at you through his lashes. You promised to never forget this arousing image when he taught you next.

"You ready my baby? Gonna fill you so well…" He lined up his hips before stuffing you with his thick length; the ache turning into immense pleasure within seconds. He let you adjust to his size once he had bottomed out, rocking into your pussy when you gave him the green light. You were on cloud nine the way he stretched you and dragged his cock against your G-spot immediately.

"Fuck you fit me so well, baby, so good for my cock. Wanna fuck your tight little cunt every day." He bit your ear lobe as he relentlessly impaled you on him over and over while you cried into his neck in pleasure. He had a way of pounding his hips so delectably it made you feel as though you could pass out from the way he pressed into you.

"Say my name sweetheart, say my name while I claim your desperate pussy, hm? Can you do that for me?"

"Fuck Yunho please keep—please harder."

He laughed at your weak voice, "You don't even know what you want, so obedient for me though- fuck," Yunho muttered as his thrusts became more frantic. He knew you were both close as you chanted his name into his shoulder, fingernails digging into his back. Yunho reached down to stroke your clit with the rough pad of his thumb tightening the knot in your stomach, still sensitive from the first orgasm.

"Yunho, please I'm gonna come-"

"Come for me baby, you can do it, cum on my cock" He slammed into your cunt a few more times before he stilled deep in you, your pussy clenching around him in sync. He stammered out more praises and sweet words as you came down from your high with him still in you.

He pulled out carefully as you leaned against his body with all your weight, not having the strength to hold yourself up anymore, and tied the condom, putting it in the trash.

"You doing alright, tiny? Sorry for going so rough on you, you did so well for me." Yunho asked in concern as he cleaned you up and picked up your trousers, still not returning your underwear. You looked into his sweet eyes, before reaching up to the nape of his neck and pulling him down for another kiss. His mouth still had traces of your arousal lingering, tasting sweet as he kissed you gently like you would break as easy as porcelain. Ironic.

"I'm good, Yunho- sorry, sir…" You weren't sure where the two of you stood after that, office yet to rid of the smell of arousal circling the room.

"Please, call me Yunho... Now, are you going to start focusing in my classes and stop eye fucking me every lesson, or do you need more… private lessons?"

You were pretty sure you were going to end the year with A++ with his special help.

OMGGGGG I melted while writing this bro, I hadn't ever planned on writing Dom!ateez bc I'm just a sucker for them as subs but this. This will not be the last.

Also thank you for 69 followers that's so funny 😭😭😭

[kirbyskisses]

can’t stop thinking about dabi who’s so filled with pent up emotions - rage, relief, insanity, glee - after his identity reveal. and you are the conduit.

cw: no plot just brainrot, fem!reader, heavy breeding, minors burns/branding, dumbification, heavy overstimulation, fingering and oral (f!receiving), spanking, praise and degradation, possessiveness, voice kink, bait-and-switch where it seems like dubcon but is actually completely consensual tho??? also Dabi would be an amazing father don’t @ me

tagging: @gatoru @reveluving @dabislittlemouse and @nymphoheretic (who got the first version of this) <3

the second he and you escape from the warzone, the man has one, singular, burning thought and that is to breed you. he’s touya again and he needs show he’s a better partner and father than endeavor could ever dream of being.

which starts by fucking you full of his kids over and over and over again.

alive or not, he’s destroyed his father’s legacy and he’s ecstatic - more desperate and hungry than you’ve ever seen him. he can’t keep his hands and teeth off you, leaving little burn marks everywhere. his white hair is still wet and stuck to his face, his blue eyes are crazed; he’s absolutely animalistic.

“dabi-!” you can barely get the word out before he’s ripping fabric off of you; shirt, panties and all - getting singed in his still steaming hands. one hand sneaks to your chin and squeezes - your eyes are locked to his, the other hand already working two fingers into your hole.

“not my name, princess.”

“t-too fast dabi -”

he pries your jaw open and spits in your mouth - your form so shocked that you tremble and swallow it down without protest.

“now,” he kisses his teeth, “what the fuck do you call me? what’s my name?”

“t-toy-touya”

“good fucking girl.” he chuckles lowly, eyes impressed both at your obedience and the feeling of your gummy walls. “you’re already so tight on my fingers, baby.”

touya growls - god, he fucking adores this. you’re squirming at all the overwhelming feelings - twisting and jerking against the wall until you notice that he hasn’t even closed the door to your apartment.

“t-touya, someone could see-” you hiccup.

“let them, doll. let them see.” he purrs. you choke out a moan, his fingers already finding the most sensitive gooey spot inside you, causing your first climax of the night.

“all of japan knows me now, baby. so who’s gonna stop me? the police? the heroes? your shitty neighbors? who’s gonna stop me from fucking my girl full and getting her pregnant, hm?”

he lets out a dark laugh and if you weren’t so deeply in love with him - so paralyzed by his heated touch - you would find it scary. instead you can only find it arousing as he sinks to his knees in front of your completely nude, shaking form and sucks at your clit, tongue swiftly going past your folds.

sure, it feels good - so good you have to momentarily cover your mouth with a trembling hand to stop from babbling out for more. but it’s evident he doesn’t care about your pleasure right now as much as he does claiming you as his. he continues spanking and biting your thighs in between until you scream his name and try to push him off.

“t-touya too - much.” you whine, hand going away from your mouth to try and pry him away by his messy hair, the tips of which are still dark. his tongue rolls inside you, lips greedily sucking every inch of your slit and bud like a man possessed. you let out a broken noise. “touya, you gotta -”

your sentence met with a sharp slap.

“I don’t ‘gotta’ do anything doll. this is my pussy ain’t it? say it.” he looks up at you expectantly, your translucent juices dripping down his lips and chin.

“‘s your…” you whisper out, legs shaking so badly you think you’d fall if his strong hands weren’t holding you to the wall, digging into the fat of your thighs with a strangle hold.

“louder.” he spanks again.

“it’s your pussy, touya!”

“and that means only i decide when it’s had enough, got it? and i say it hasn’t. and you’re gonna let me, ain’t ya?”

“yes~” your consent comes out like a whisper, a hiss, but is it’s undeniable that you like him like this. a version of dabi touya that you’ve only seen glimpses of but just fall for deeper and deeper and deeper - others might call it insane but to you it’s intoxicating. the insanity, the need to have you - something about it drives you over the edge into another messy, babbling orgasm.

you love him. you love him. you love hi-

“shut your mouth and bite down on something.”

“b-bite down?” you question, swallowing deeply, pulled out of your thoughts. your fuzzy head stirs trying to understand his intentions as he hands you the balled up fabric of your previously discarded but still soaking wet panties.

“yeah. this is gonna hurt.” his smirks, a candle light amount of blue fire surrounding the tip of his index finger. you bite and scream into the cloth, tasting your own remaining juice, as the blue spark traces the letters “M I N E” into your outer thigh.

you’re crying and shaking from feeling such pain after climaxing back to back.

good.

he likes it like that.

he’s at least soft enough to kiss the scorching letters until they cool off with a coo of “good fucking girl” finally taking your partially delirious body to the bed and stroking your hair as he cradles you. you whine for more praise and confirmation.

“did g-good, dabi?”

“touya, remember? ‘nd yeah, baby. doing so good for me, doll. now, i’m gonna lie on the bed and you’re gonna ride that pretty pussy my cock until i say you’re full enough, got that?”

“yes.”

“yes who, little slut?”

“yes, touya.”

“good, pretty girl.”

he strips, which gives you a moment to catch your breath and he chuckles when he looks into your eyes absolutely maddened and obsessed with how you gasp at his size every single time.

“don’t worry, pretty. i’ll go nice and slow. sink into you bit by bit, counting to 10, yeah?” whimpering from overstimulation, you nod - innocent and trusting

-

he’s a liar.

dabi, touya - it doesn’t matter who he is, he’s a fucking liar.

the count he’d promised got to “two” before he shoved his fat cock all the way inside with a cackle.

“did you really believe i’d wait that long?” he teases, blue eyes taking you apart bit by bit as he slams his cock into you and you squirm, crying out his name

“touya! too deep!”

"i don't remember asking, baby," he replies. he buries himself into you to the base - pressing against your insides, so hard it aches.

“i'm gonna fill you up nice and full, knock you up like the good little bitch you are. you gonna take that f’r me? let me dump loads my cute tight little pussy?”

his shoulders and chest are heaving, he’s pushed your legs back and back and back until you’re in a mating press so he can slip his cock as deep in as it can go and back out wildly.

“gonna help me prove h’m wrong, yeah? gonna make me a daddy aren’t you dollface - i’ll be soft with ya when you do. i’ll be such a good fuckin’ daddy. you know that?”

“y-ye - touya - you’ll be a-amazing!” you really do think he would but even if you didn’t, you can’t think at all beyond saying what he wants to hear

“you’d be a good mommy to them. just like you’re such a good cumdumpster for me.”

your head is swimming, the residual heat of his quirk has you feeling like you’re going melt. how many times has he made you cum by now? you lost count after four and now he’s beating against your g-spot as you plead that it’s all too rough. your mind is so blank with him, him, him - how feral he looked fighting against his father and brother, the deep plea he made on camera to the whole nation and now this desperate, obsessed sex craze.

you’re at his mercy, plain and simple. your mouth is letting out hoarse pleas for him to slow down because all your neighbors can hear, you’re sure of it.

“let them hear. stop thinking about other people when i’m the one fucking this pussy. matter of fact - stop thinking, doll. you're not done until you're so full of my cum, you get pregnant," he growls in a voice unlike anything you'd ever heard him use. but fuck if it doesn't make you clench around him, which only makes him laugh at you.

“if i had known you wanted to be a little breeding slut for me before, i would have been filling you properly every night! fuck what they hear. they’ve heard my voice all day. they get to hear me breed you.”

“touya~”

“oh you like the sound of that don’t you? well then let them hear. scream for me. who’s the only man that fucks this pussy full?”

“touya! ‘s you touya! ‘m your cumslut!” you wail into another climax. touya pauses as you spasm around him, pussy walls sucking the cum from him with a long groan.

his hand is finally gentle against you, thumbing the tears and lips tenderly kissing your face.

“don’t worry. ‘ll be nice and soft with you once the little tyke is in your tummy, doll. all you have to do is stand what i put you through now.” he coos.

“i wouldn’t really hurt you the lady i love - i’m not him. you’ve been so good taking care of me this long while i waited to destroy him. thought i was gonna die today, you know that? now i get to live and be with you and our little ones. y’know i love you, right doll?”

your fifth (or maybe it’s been closer to seventh?) orgasm has made you a mess of tears but touya rarely says ‘i love you’ and something about being free of his disguise makes it seem like he’ll say it more often now. you manage to whisper out;

“i love you too touya… g’ve me your baby.”

he smiles and pounds in, fucking the sloppy loads of white back into you.

“say it again.”

“‘w-want your babies~”

“again!” he growls, hands closing in on your neck as he fucks you so hard the bed creaks and you think it might break - or at least you would if you had the ability to think beyond his orders.

you say it over and over like a mantra as he kisses you and makes sure you hold in his cum, dick creamy with white from fucking in load after load.

“that’s a good mommy. you’re gonna grow so nice with daddy’s kids. my fucking little breeding hole.”

when he’s finally, finally done? you’re an absolute mess and he adores the sight. you’re crying and hiccuping, legs shaking as white fluid pools inside you before he shoves it back in with his fingers.

“stay open for me, cutie. someone’s a happy little cumslut huh?” dabi smirks and he gives you one last spank.

“touya” you sob out and he kisses you softly.

“I’m here doll. that’ll keep you good and stuffed. ‘ll clean you up nice and soft in the morning hm? right now you’re gonna sleep full of my cum and all marked as mine.”

you drift to sleep, no energy left, only able to hear the sound of his phone turning on because he can’t help but snap a few pictures and videos of his “masterpiece.”

[lovelykrystal]

scara brainrot (nsfw).

.

.

.

i want him to absolutely rail me. i need him to destroy me until i can't walk for the next week. i need him to call me his bitch and use me like one. i need him to pound me into tomorrow like it's the only thing he can think about. i need him to cum inside so many times that it starts leaking out of me while he keeps fucking me. i want him to shape my insides to fit him perfectly, like i was only ment to be used for him. i want him to mark me and claim me as his own.

god i am such a whore for this man

[teojira]

Hey teddy! I recently read the Caesar hcs and actually fell in love with you writing! I was wondering if you could do some more general Caesar hcs

Thank youuu 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

[General Caesar headcanons!] [PT2]

Summary: Caesar x reader general headcanons!

Warnings: Romance between Caesar and You, takes place after War! Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Hi!!! I hope these are good, I've been brainrotting about him and Noa all day today,,, idk if this counts as general but i got into the groove and now we are here. Hope you enjoy 🫶

Caesar who claims he wants nothing to do with you romantically, lying to himself that just because he cares for humans, that he took you in, let you stay and become one of them, doesn't mean he wants one as a mate.

He is the Ape king, it'd be a bad example, it'd never work, so he pushes it down and says it doesn't bother him when you're out with other male apes alone.

He's a fucking liar because he gets jealous. So jealous to the point, he gets territorial.

Caesar is not opposed to scenting you without your knowledge, everytime he brushes against you, it's a deliberate act to make sure other apes know he's been with you. It's a primal need in him to stake his claim. Whenever you explain that you're off to help the others, he makes sure you're walking off reeking of him. It's kinda obnoxious, no one is gonna steal you away from him, even if they wanted to.

Not alot of apes in current day do settle into a monogamous relationship with one mate, and no one really expects Caesar to stay in one himself, but he's pretty stuck onto you before he even realizes.

He tries to take up your time so it leaves little for others. He thinks he's being slick, but alas, Maurice knows. Maurice knew from the second you appeared on their doorstep that it'd be sure that Caesar would get attached to you.

He hasn't been expecting Caesar to want you as a mate, but he isn't against it. As he sees it, you two balance one another, and he knows Caesar still grieves losing his first family. You're good for the Ape king.

Caesar keeps you close, your nest is near his, when it is time for meals, it's typically you both with Cornelius in your lap, 'secretly' stealing berries from your pile.

"Stop it." Caesar signs, staring down at the little chimp on your arms, his nostrils flared ever so slightly.

Cornelius stops in his tracks, glancing up at his father, then to you.

You can't help but let out a giggle, which makes Caesar look up at you, his heart clenching beneath all the fur and muscle.

"It's okay honey, take as much as you want."

It's the way you say it so gently, readjusting yourself to Cornelius can reach easier to grab a fistful.

It makes the ape want to see you as a full-fledged mother (he sits up at night after this, staring into the ceiling with a "Oh shit." Look once he remembers)

He wants to be the one to teach you more ASL, yes he's aware Maurice can teach you, hell, he knows he himself has other duties that are at a higher priority. But he still takes the time, bringing you into his nest to have one on one time.

Watching your hands as you fumble is entertaining to me, taking in the size difference. He uses your mishaps as a reason to correct you, his much larger hands cradling your own and showing you how to form new words.

If you're hoping he doesn't see your face reddening, he does. He just won't tell you. God forbid someone else sees your blushing face that isn't him, though. He'll immediately shut it down and tell them to leave you be, that you aren't to be messed with.

He's a hypocrite.

[humanpurposes]

Karma is a God, Chapter 15: The Lakeshore

The Dance of the Dragons begins on a lie, and Aemond owes a debt, one Lucerra will see repaid in Fire and Blood // Main Masterlist

Aemond x Lucerra Velaryon (fem!Lucerys)

Warnings for this chapter: 18+, spoilers for F&B and future seasons of HotD, canon divergence, descriptions of violence, angst, mentions of death and war

A/n: We're back after five whole months!! I've been deep in the brainrot for this fic recently, and I'm so happy I've come back to it. I've had this series planned out since December 2022 and I'm really excited to see it through.

Also, psa I guess, this series is no longer going to be updated on Tumblr, all future chapters will be posted on AO3.

I do want to say thank you to everyone who's shown this fic some love on here, it makes me so happy seeing it come up in my notifs, I can't wait for you all to continue reading it :)❤️

Full Chapter on AO3

The voice in Luke’s head whispers again. Blood.

It is everywhere, in the colour of the sky, in the clouds and the setting sun. It’s in the water, spilled from the bodies of two dead dragons. Watery red waves ripple over the lakeshore, rushing over her boots, running back to the lake and seeping through the pebbles into the earth.

Aemond is covered in it. He is on his knees before her, an arrow lodged in the shoulder of his sword arm, his riding leathers sodden, his silver hair soaked and stained pink. She wonders if he can taste it, the blood of Caraxes and Vhagar on his tongue.

Even when she takes up Dark Sister and places its point to his throat, he is staring at her with the intent of a hunter. His seeing eye is wide, his eyepatch washed away and his sapphire almost black in the absence of light. The scar that frames it, the scar carved by her hand, is inflamed, furious and red.

The last time she had seen it, he was holding a knife against her cheek, demanding retribution, seeking payment for her debt.

It seems like another lifetime ago, before Arrax, before Shipbreaker Bay, before she had clawed her way through endless, agonising pain to find her way to Jace, before she had buried two of her siblings, when Rhaenyra was her mother and not her Queen. 

The sword– Daemon’s sword, feels wrong in her hand, but then it should not be hers to have.

“Remember all he has taken from you,” her step-father had said. 

And she does. She remembers it all.

Aemond’s arrogance to not weep and grovel and beg for his life, after everything, is an insult. 

She had never felt so sure of herself, so determined that she knew what path the Gods had mapped for her. Aemond would not have a noble death or the burial rites of their family. He would be lost to the lake with an arrow pierced through his black heart, remembered as a traitor and a kinslayer. She would be his end. It was only right.

Daemon had trusted her, handed her the bow she would use to kill him, told her to stay hidden amongst the trees and wait for the right moment to strike.

In the blur of battle, as night engulfed the sky and poisoned the air with its cold, she had missed her mark. She knew it the moment the arrow left the bow that it would not be enough to kill him.

The danger in that was Vhagar. The dragon howled in fury and surged towards her atop Grey Ghost. Aemond had his chance then. He could have finished what he began at Storm’s End, claimed her life, seen his debt fulfilled.

Then Vhagar had steered away.

It was hard to see what became of them in the final struggle. The dragons were a single mass of bloody flesh, joined with teeth and talons. Daemon leapt from his saddle, sword in hand. She might have screamed, either way it would have gone unheard.

Aemond must have realised what was happening when he started to fuss with his chains. He released himself and then they were falling.

Aemond and Daemon were lost to darkness but Vhagar and Caraxes plunged into the God’s Eye with a colossal splash that reached so high it appeared to match the height of Harrenhal itself.

She was standing on the lakeshore before she found herself in the mind of her dragon.

She watched through Grey Ghost’s eyes as he flew towards the lake and dived beneath the surface of the water. In that void his claws curled around a body.

She was standing on the shore again, inside her own mind again, waiting for Grey Ghost to deliver what– who he had found.

Grey Ghost set the body down. He may have had stained silver hair and Dark Sister clutched in his hand, but she knew right away it wasn’t her step-father. There was still life in him– in Aemond.

What will her mother think now?

She feels Aemond swallow against the blade, the movement of his throat piercing his skin. A droplet of blood trails down his neck, below his collar. 

She knows what she has to do– what she should do: push forwards, watch him choke on blood and steel. 

He draws his tongue between his lips. His voice is almost a whisper, thick and strained. “Please.”

Her hold on the hilt falters. Perhaps she should feel some semblance of pride, now that she has him at her mercy, breathless and broken. 

“Please.”

She watches the blood trail from the small cut she has made in his neck. She imagines it spraying from a larger wound, coating Dark Sister, seeping through his teeth and his lips.

“You can beg better than that, surely,” she says...

Read the rest of Chapter 15 on AO3

Tags (comment to be added to either)

Series taglist: @adragonprinceswhore @toodlesxcuddles @arcielee

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @theoneeyedprince @targaryenrealnessdarling @jamespotterismydaddy @tsujifreya @blackswxnn

[jessamine-rose]

˚ ༻✿ Herbarium ✿༺ ˚

I would like to blame @bye-bye-sunbird​ and @yandere-romanticaa​ for my descent into Capitano hell. All I could do was write my longest fic in hopes of purging the brainrot……yeahh so pls enjoy my humble contribution to the Capitano agenda ;-;

Thank you so much to my dear friend @diodellet​ for peer reviewing this and helping me out with the Genshin lore!! I delighted in watching you suffer  ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, kidnapping, violence, blood, murder, psychological trauma, mention of child abuse, spice, mention of nsfw, MINORS DNI

Note:: Female reader described as physically weak and smaller than Capitano, this fic will most likely be considered OOC in a few years

♡ 10.1k words under the cut ♡

i. dandelion

You adore dandelions for the same reason that you despise them.

A tiny flower symbolic of love and freedom. The ethereal ghosts of golden petals adored even—or perhaps only—after losing their vibrant, sunlike forms. A soft blow is all it takes to breathe new life into the flower, for the seeds to embark on new journeys in a scatter of liberated parachutes and hopeful wishes.

Not all dandelions have the fortune of finding new homes, however. Some are plucked for human purposes and imbued with new value as sentimental gifts. Many are transformed into entirely different products such as food and wine. Others are simply forgotten, doomed to remain in their original area until death finally claims them. Regardless, dandelions are transient like any other flower and will eventually disappear from the world.

Your flowers are deprived of that fate.

The meadow is deserted again. Most of the dandelions are gone, either plucked or dispersed, but you are able to find an untouched patch of puffy white clouds. The seeds shift ever so slightly in the wind but remain anchored to their florets.

You choose two promising puffs and snip the stems.

The dandelions land on the pages of your notebook. You cover the flowers in parchment paper and slam the book shut.

A twig snaps.

Your first instinct is to protect your notebook. You hug it to your chest and turn around, preparing for the worst.

The source of the noise is easy to spot. At the edge of the meadow, just a few feet away from you, stands a tall, imposing figure. His face is completely imperceptible within the black void of his mask. The only physical feature you can deduce is long black hair. He has a Vision.

He doesn’t say anything. But the nod in your direction is proof that he has seen you.

His menacing appearance…have the Knights of Favonius introduced new uniforms? No, his armor does not bear any familiar crests or designs. A foreigner, perhaps?

You clear your throat. Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Are you here for the Windblume Festival? The festival ended yesterday.”

“I have other business in Mondstadt.”

Definitely a foreigner. He has a somber voice.

“You chose a good time to visit this meadow,” you tell him. “It becomes a popular place for flower-picking during Windblume. I had to wait for the festivities to end before I could revisit.”

He doesn’t enter the meadow. “You did not pick flowers for the festival?”

“No.” You glance down at your notebook. “I have no one to offer flowers to.”

“Not even to the Anemo Archon?”

“Not even to Barbatos. I don’t make offerings to any gods, for that matter.”

What difference would it make?

The stranger is silent. Either he is caught off guard by your sudden curtness or he is the type to avoid meaningless chatter.

You sit down and face the dandelions, effectively ending the conversation. The stranger walks away and peace is restored in the meadow.

ii. windwheel aster

The stranger is standing in your meadow.

The meadow, you correct yourself when you first see him. It is not your private garden.

He is a dark shadow against the colorful flowers. If he were less considerate, he could easily stomp on them and leave crushed petals in his wake.

He has a companion, a masked person of average height. Judging by their lowered head and the nervous Sir’s leaving their mouth, they must be a subordinate.

The subordinate’s Vision flares as soon as they notice you. But one nod from your acquaintance convinces them to let you enter.

You walk past them and sit under your favorite tree, whispering a hello as the barest of acknowledgements.

Neither of them approach you.

You open your bag and take out your library book. Lisa had recommended a collection of dark fairytales, perhaps as a last-ditch effort to socialize with her coworker. You have to give her credit for taking note of your favorite genre.

One of the pages is torn.

You read it anyway.

You hear two sets of footsteps. The noise gradually softens until it is completely muted by the rustling of leaves.

You look up from your book. The strangers have left.

✿ ⚘  

Growing up, you had been partial to parallel play. It was the most efficient way to share space with your roommates after too many failed attempts at bonding and sharing toys. None of you could have been judged given your limited personal belongings.

You and your mysterious acquaintance have wordlessly entered a similar agreement.

You continue your daily routine of reading in the meadow after work. Every few days, the stranger walks past the meadow and stays there for a few minutes. Neither of you approach each other.

A week after your first meeting, you find a windwheel aster with only four petals.

You take out your notebook and add the flower to your personal collection. The stranger arrives.

Why is he here?

Until now, you haven’t been able to discern his identity nor the purpose of his visit. If he is in Mondstadt for suspicious reasons, you likely would have been eliminated during your first or second meeting. And neither has he attempted any form of interaction which could have made a convincing alibi out of you.

His presence doesn’t bother you at all, though.

You glance at the other flowers. There are no more unique plant mutations, so you instead pick a small bunch of ordinary windwheel asters and approach the stranger.

“Would you like one? These are windwheel asters. They only grow in Mondstadt.”

He accepts them. “You come here almost everyday. Are you fond of flowers?”

“You could say that.” You turn around to overlook the meadow with him. “Wildflowers are beautiful and diverse. But you can’t keep them as you do with normal belongings—they die quickly and there is no way to put your name on them. So I try to preserve them as naturally as possible.”

“How so?”

No change in demeanor. But the fact that he asked means his interest could be genuine.

“Here.” You walk closer to his side and open your notebook. “My own personal collection. I just press the flowers in my notebook and label them.”

Your acquaintance leans down to read over your shoulder. The chains of his helmet make soft clinking sounds.

You flip through the pages and provide brief descriptions for each flower. Dandelions, Sweet Flowers, Cecilia, Dragonspine mint. Your collection is small, limited only to the local flora of Mondstadt. By the time you reach the four-petaled windwheel aster, you belatedly realize that you had forgotten to cover the front page.

You had written “Property of ______” in bold letters.

Well, introductions are long overdue.

“It is a peaceful and appreciative hobby,” he finally comments. “Are you interested in gardening or botany?”

“No. I just like to own flowers.”

His tresses brush against your cheek.

“My name is ______,” you whisper. You look up expectantly.

Even up close, his face is perfectly concealed by his mask.

“You may call me Capitano,” he replies.

“All right.” You lower your head. From the corner of your peripheral vision, you notice that he is still holding the windwheel asters. “It is nice to make your acquaintance, Capitano.”

iii. cecilia

Your meetings with Capitano continue. Not much has changed—you still devote time to reading and Capitano leaves when he feels like it. But his company is pleasant. He doesn’t demand much from you and he seems genuinely interested in your flimsy hobbies.

His answers to your questions are vague. But he does inform you that he is based in Snezhnaya and that he is scheduled to leave Mondstadt in a few weeks. That piece of information immediately sparks your curiosity about his region’s local flora and literature.

“I learned how to read in Snezhnayan by myself,” you tell him, “but it is still difficult for me to read the original literature. If it doesn’t bother you, can I please request your help in translating a few pages?”

“It would not be an inconvenience,” he replies.

The next day, you borrow two Snezhnayan classics from the library. Capitano’s manner of speaking is too serious for emotional dialogue and flowery language, but it is still better than your own reading voice.

✿ ⚘    

Given Capitano’s seeming disinterest in tourism, you regularly give him pressed flowers to bring home as souvenirs. Mondstadt specialties ranging from dandelions to Small Lamp Grass to Cecilias which you had picked on your day off from work.

“Cecilias grow on Starsnatch Cliff,” he notes during one exchange. His grip on the pointy white flowers is loose, as though exerting any more force would crush your carefully preserved gift.

No, it actually would.

“You need not put yourself in harm’s way for my sake.”

You only shake your head. “I’ve been to Starsnatch Cliff a few times. It is a nice change to my schedule. Besides, I only got attacked by a Whopperflower once.”

“...Your dedication is worthy of admiration.”

✿ ⚘ 

His silence is more appreciated on your bad days.

During one of your library shifts, your former foster brother visits you to announce the news of his parents’ deaths. Any glee, satisfaction, or indifference is overtaken by the terror of his arrival.

Lisa states that you look “unwell” and allows you to leave work early. But the well-meaning gesture only results in you getting cornered by your gossipy neighbors and falling off your bed from a vivid nightmare.

In the end, you stick to your schedule and go to the meadow.

If Capitano has noticed your gloomy behavior, he is kind enough to not ask about it. Instead, he breaks the silence in your place.

“During our first meeting, you informed me that you do not make offerings to the Anemo Archon and other gods. May I ask why?”

The dandelion patch is empty. How long until the new flowers start growing?

“The gods have never responded to my prayers,” you reply. “No matter how many wishes I made, my life didn’t change the way I wanted it to. So I stopped hoping.”

You glance at Capitano’s Vision. A powerful gift for those worthy of the gods’ recognition.

“Your region worships the Cryo Archon. Are you religious? Has she granted any of your prayers?”

“I fulfill the wishes of the Tsaritsa,” is his cryptic response. “That is my mission.”

“Okay. If that makes you happy.”

Different regions have different relationships between Archon and follower. Perhaps if you had been left in the care of another region, your hope would have persisted.

“Would you like to visit Snezhnaya?”

That question draws you out of your stupor. “What?”

Capitano continues speaking. “Snezhnaya is a land of perpetual winter but there is a certain charm to it. I believe that you would take kindly to the local flora.”

Snezhnayan flowers. You only know a few species from the library books and what Capitano has told you. They are supposed to be resilient plants capable of withstanding cold temperature and harsh weather.

So unlike the flowers of Mondstadt.

You look around the meadow. “I doubt that I would ever get the chance to visit. But if that ever happens, can I depend on you to be my tour guide?”

“The honor is mine.”

iv. calla lily

You almost forget that your time with Capitano is limited. After two months of conversations in the meadow, he suddenly announces his departure.

“My business in Mondstadt is over. I shall leave for Snezhnaya tonight.”

It sounds like a formal announcement coming from him.

“...I see.”

You stare at your bag. You had preserved calla lilies this time. Only the prettiest ones with bright orange petals.

Did you preserve them properly? Will he take care of your gifts?

Capitano is looking at you. Until now, the face beneath his mask remains a mystery to you. If he is saddened by his upcoming departure, you wouldn’t be able to tell.

Would he feel sad about going home, though?

“Here.” You take out the parcel of pressed calla lilies and present it to him with a halfhearted flourish. “I guess this is my final gift to you. Do take good care of it.”

“Thank you.” His hand brushes against yours. His touch is cold. “Your hospitality has been greatly appreciated.”

You only shrug. “There is no need to thank me.”

“I shall do my best to return the favor.”

Capitano’s hand encloses around your wrist.

Tight. His grip is too tight.

The calla lilies fall to the ground.

“Ca…Capitano?” you whisper. “The flowers…I dropped them.”

He is holding your wrist. One wrong move and he could easily dislocate it.

“Could…could you please let go?”

His grip only tightens.

“Your wrist is as fragile as it looks,” he tells you. “So small and delicate. If someone or something were to attack you, I doubt that you would be able to defend yourself.”

Let go. Please let go. Why isn’t he letting go of you?!

“Even mentally speaking, you have a weak disposition. The joy and freedom so valued in Mondstadt is lost on you. If my division were to raid your city, you would be one of the first to accept defeat. I doubt that you would make yourself useful to any resistance.”

Stop talking.

Capitano pulls you forward. It is only a light tug but with enough force to have you crash into his chest. His free hand caresses your face.

“Though it cannot be helped, given your circumstances. And you are far too precious for me to allow any more harm to befall you.”

Just stop.

You slap his hand away from your face.

“Stop! Get away from me!”

Your throat hurts. When was the last time you raised your voice?

He doesn’t even flinch. “I would be careful if I were you, darling.”

“Just shut up! What could you possibly know about me?” you snap.

“Enough to know that you must be handled with extreme care.” At that, Capitano raises your captive wrist and presses down on your pulse. “After all, the Maier family and the Mondstadt Orphanage are to blame for your melancholy.”

Your blood runs cold.

You had never told him about your past. The adoption records should have been burned after you were sent back.

Capitano…who is he? How long has he been collecting information about you?

“This is the first time I have seen you so expressive,” he muses. He sounds almost awed. “It is reassuring to see that you still have an iota of self-preservation left in you, ______.”

“Capitano.” Your voice comes out small. “What…what are you going to do with me?”

He pulls your wrist into his mask. Something soft and warm presses against the back of your hand. A kiss.

“I shall do everything in my power to protect you. And in line with the Tsaritsa’s mission, I vow to create a peaceful world which you may thrive in.”

✿ ⚘  

A Fatui Harbinger. You have been associating with a Fatui Harbinger this whole time.

Forget Capitano’s insane profession of love. That revelation was all it took for you to completely give up on refusing him.

A secret mission. His suspicious attire. The subordinate who was ready to eliminate you for merely being in the same space as them. His inhumane strength.

How could you have been so naive?

He only lets go of your wrist once you enter the carriage. The masked subordinates do not acknowledge you; they just bow to Capitano and inform him that your belongings have already been packed.

He knows where you live. Did he follow you to your dormitory? Or was it his spies?

The carriage begins moving. You stare at the empty seat in front of you. You don’t want to acknowledge the presence to your left or the dull ache in your wrist.

Your former foster parents. How did they die again? Their son said that he came home to find the house completely trashed and their bodies lacerated beyond recognition. The Knights of Favonius still haven’t found the murderer. Was it him?

Capitano is completely silent. Giving you time to process your thoughts, maybe. How kind of him.

Capitano is a Fatui Harbinger. He can easily cover up your disappearance. No one will come looking for you.

Through the window, you can see the passing scenery of Mondstadt. The sky is turning dark. The Small Lamp Grass is already in full glow. Will you ever see those flowers again?

He could hurt you if you disobey.

The carriage stops.

Dornman Port is completely deserted. The cheerful sailors and travelers are nowhere to be seen. What you see instead are more Fatui agents surrounding a large ship.

“______. It is time to leave.”

Capitano taps your wrist. The mere action triggers a sharp sting of pain. You can already feel a bruise forming.

Be good. That is all you need to do to survive.

You follow him out of the carriage.

v. sweet flowers

Snezhnaya is too cold.

The region is even more frigid than Dragonspine. Your new coat is practically useless. You are surprised that you haven’t frozen to death yet.

The view from the carriage is just as unwelcoming. You can’t tell the difference between the sky and the ground. All you can see is swirling snow.

“______. If you cannot bear the cold, you should inform me immediately.”

Capitano’s hand rubs your back. The gesture only makes you shiver.

“I’m fine.” You give up on the window view and turn to face him. “Snezhnaya is just colder than I had expected.”

There is barely any space between the two of you. You could easily move to the other seat but Capitano had stopped you. At least it is warmer by his side.

“Mondstadt is blessed with a gentle climate, but Snezhnaya is not as forgiving,” he replies. “You are already in frail condition from the voyage. A steady recovery is preferable.”

Ah, yes. For the majority of the trip to Snezhnaya, you had been bedridden due to a cold and seasickness. Your only consolation was that it gave you an excuse to rest and ignore your captor. You had more time to process your situation and prepare for the worst.

The carriage stops.

“We have arrived. Get up.”

You are quick to leave the carriage this time.

A manor located in the middle of the woods. If not for your situation, you would have been thrilled by the sense of privacy.

You turn to Capitano. “This is…your home?”

“Ours,” he clarifies. You can vaguely make out the puffs of air leaving his mask. “Your belongings shall be delivered shortly. But until then, you must rest.”

No neighbors. No noise. And no chance of escape.

✿ ⚘  

For the home of a Fatui Harbinger, the manor is surprisingly ordinary.

You are quick to leave Capitano’s side as soon as you step through the front door. The manor is furnished with only the barest of necessities. Considering your captor’s livelihood, he probably doesn’t spend much time at home to begin with.

But it is warm. Someone must have lit the fireplace before you arrived.

“Capitano?” You turn around, coat in hand. “Can I…?”

He took off his mask.

Capitano simply stares back at you. “Do you need anything?”

He has a human face.

That revelation shocks you more than anything. After weeks of viewing Capitano as a faceless helmet on a strong physique, you had forgotten that he was…likely a human.

The scars are not a surprise. What actually scares you is the look in his eyes.

If looks could kill, it would have been death at first sight for you.

You look away. “I would like to look around the manor. Are there any rooms I shouldn’t enter?”

“All of the doors are open to you.” He hangs his coat and walks past you. It is his next words that make you flinch. “Going outside is forbidden.”

“O…Okay.” You hang your coat and rush to the staircase.

✿ ⚘  

The first thing you check are the doors.

All of the doors lock from the inside. To keep people out.

You breathe a sigh of relief and continue your self-guided tour.

A closet at the end of the hall. A few armories. Bathroom. Office. Empty guest rooms. Locked doors. Bedroom.

The bed is big enough for two. One of the closets is empty.

You inspect the desk instead. There is a tall stack of hardcover books, a set of fountain pens, and—most out of place—a single Sweet Flower tied to a glass vial.

Wait, those books…you’ve read them before.

As a matter of fact, you had borrowed all of those titles from Mondstadt Library.

You pick up the heaviest book. Sure enough, it is the dark fairytale collection you had been reading during your second meeting with Capitano. The pages are perfectly pristine.

The contents of the vial are easy to recognize. Sweet Flower cough syrup for your cold. The fresh flower is an unnecessary accompaniment.

You shake your head. They were just as kind to you when you first moved in.

Regardless, you open all of the books and scribble “Property of ______” on the front pages. The cough syrup is treated with more suspicion; you take a sip and wait for any strange effects before you finish the vial.

Lastly, you take your notebook out of your bag and press the Sweet Flower between its pages.

vi. rose

You eventually develop a new daily routine in Snezhnaya.

You wake up early at around the same time as your captor. The two of you eat a silent breakfast in the dining room. Then Capitano puts on his mask and you accompany him to his workplace.

The carriage rides to Zapolyarny Palace are always quiet. To pass the time, you stare out of the window and do your best to hide your shivers, if only to deny Capitano the chance to share body heat. You only speak when you are asking brief questions or responding to him.

You’ve essentially returned to your old dynamic.

As soon as you enter his office, you rush to the window seat and turn to your books. At that point, Capitano leaves you alone so he can sign papers at his desk, deal with subordinates, or train his soldiers in another room. You retreat into the books—either your own labeled gifts or those borrowed from the Fatui private library—and transport yourself to imaginary worlds far beyond your reality.

If Capitano is bothered by your attitude, he is doing an excellent job at hiding it.

✿ ⚘  

As it turns out, there is a limit to his patience. You quickly learn that on the day he walks over to your window seat and seizes your book.

“Hey!” You react instantly, standing up to retrieve it. “What do you want?”

“Your bibliophilia has become severe as of late.” Capitano lifts the book high above your head, rendering it irretrievable for you. “Your eyes require sufficient rest.”

That’s mine. “I was already an avid reader before I met you.”

“There is a difference between reading for your personal enjoyment and reading as a means to avoid me.”

Stupid child.

He stares down at you. Despite his mask, you can feel the piercing glare directed at you.

What makes you think that he would just want you to listen and be quiet?

You lower your head. You don’t want him to look at you like that. You shouldn’t provoke him any further. “I’m sorry.”

“The fault lies with me for failing to adequately reciprocate your hospitality in Mondstadt. Forgive me.” Capitano tilts your face upwards. His touch is gentle. “Tomorrow, we may visit the capital of Snezhnaya.”

You blink at him. “Really? I…we can go out?”

“Humans require sunlight and fresh air for nourishment, similar to flowers,” he replies. “Locking you up would have an adverse effect on your physical state.”

✿ ⚘    

Your promised tour is nothing special. You can’t tell if it is due to Capitano’s status as a Harbinger, the fact that you aren’t the touristy type to begin with, or the awkwardness between the two of you.

There are also the whispers.

“Is that…?”

“Yes, that is Il Capitano and his wife.”

“They make an odd couple.”

“...pretty…downcast eyes—shh, he looked at us!”

Back in Mondstadt, some had already taken note of your despondency and asocial tendencies. But these observers were limited to your coworkers and neighbors. Despite their noise, they had approached you with nothing but friendliness and concern.

The curiosity of the Snezhnayans is a different matter. To them, you are a mysterious outsider whose frail, melancholy countenance invites rumors of the Captain’s preferences.

And you are to be viewed from a distance, lest they incur the wrath of a Harbinger.

Their fear is not a problem. You just wish that they weren’t so noisy.

The final part of your tour makes up for it, however. The one benefit of living in seclusion is that the woods practically belong to you. The Snezhnayan flowers are bright spots of color in an otherwise dreary snowscape.

“I didn’t know that roses could be found in this region. Or that they can bloom in the winter, for that matter.”

This is your first time to see a real rosebush. The flowers are in full bloom, pure white petals preserved under a layer of glittery frost. Did the encyclopedias say anything about roses growing in Snezhnaya? Could it be artificially planted?

You turn to Capitano, waiting for his explanation. He had let go of your hand as soon as you entered the forest. Perhaps he is confident that you wouldn’t be able to escape.

At any rate, you are grateful for the chance to roam freely and approach the flowers.

He is still standing a few feet away from you. “You told me that you have never seen roses before. How does the real flower compare to the pictures and descriptions?”

“They’re beautiful. The imitations don’t do them justice.”

Mondstadt Library used to be the only place where you could see roses. The illustrations and Lisa’s sculpted accessories had only copied their surface-level appearance.

The petals are too frosty for you to feel their natural texture, but you do feel the sharp thorns through your gloves. You snip three roses, thorns included.

You can hear Capitano’s footsteps. “There are flower species which grow only in remote parts of Snezhnaya. We may visit those places some other time.”

“That would be pleasant.” You can’t help the small smile on your face. “Thank you.”

Smiling has always been difficult for you. But it is easier when books and flowers are involved.

“Does Snezhnaya live up to your initial impression?”

“The flowers are lovely. I just need to adjust to the climate, I guess.”

“Is that all?”

Capitano is standing right beside you.

You look at the roses in your hands. “Yes. You…you saved the best for last.”

The sky is already turning dark. Your tour will be over soon.

You look ahead and continue walking. The road ahead of you is practically infinite; how long would it take to reach the end of the woods? How many flowers are still waiting for you?

Capitano grabs your arm.

The rose thorns dig into your skin.

What did you do this time?

“This is the farthest you can go,” he tells you. His tone has completely changed.

His hand is so cold.

“I’m sorry!” you stutter immediately. “I just wanted to look for more flowers. I didn’t…”

He only sighs. The sound echoes within his helmet.

“You are only allowed to roam the woods under supervision. That is unnegotiable.”

The thorns have ripped through your gloves. Your grip on the roses tightens and another stab of pain shoots through your hands. But it feels better than the sensation on your arm.

“And do not think of running away,” he adds sternly. “There are many dangers in the woods. You would freeze to death before you find your way out.”

“I understand.” You turn around, legs shaking.

His other hand catches your wrist.

The action is even more sudden. A pathetic whimper escapes your throat as you drop the roses, a new wave of apologies on the tip of your tongue.

“You should be more careful when handling the roses.”

Huh?

Capitano lets go of your arm and carefully removes your glove. The blood has already flowed out of your hand and seeped into the fabric.

“Does it hurt?” His voice is softer.

What does his face look like right now?

“Don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt that much,” you lie.

“You could get an infection. Your wounds must be treated immediately.” Capitano picks up your fallen roses and puts two in the pocket of his coat. He holds up the last one. “Do you still want this?”

The petals are tinged with scarlet. One could mistake it for a natural red rose.

For a few seconds, you just stare at the ruined rose in his hand. Then you nod.

It is simply a more extreme display of ownership. You just need to be careful when you add it to your notebook.

vii. mint

After four months in Snezhnaya, Capitano leaves for another mission.

“I have business in Inazuma. The mission will last a minimum of two weeks.”

“I see. Good luck.”

What kind of business? At least two weeks?

You stop yourself from asking.

Your captor is in charge of the Fatui’s military division. While his business in Mondstadt was relatively diplomatic, he will most likely be fighting in Inazuma. You don’t need to know about the many ways he could end a life with his bare hands.

Capitano is packing his bags. He isn’t bringing much aside from clothes and weapons. “I assigned a guard to watch over you. She will be in the manor at all times.”

So much for two weeks of privacy.

He looks up from his luggage. Examining your face for any reaction, most likely.

Stop complaining.

Having a supervisor is nothing. He could keep you locked up in the bedroom with only basic necessities. He could bring you to Inazuma and the company of the Fatui soldiers. He could do worse.

It is a good thing that you had given up on escape. If not, your disappointment would have been too obvious.

“Would you like anything from Inazuma?” he finally says. “They have an impressive selection of souvenirs.”

You glance at your desk.

Earlier this morning, you had rearranged your books—by color, your preferred system of classification—after new reading material was delivered to the manor. Your notebook is open to a page filled with newly-pressed flowers.

He is always giving you gifts. Even if it is his way of showing affection, you don’t want it. You aren’t used to owning so many wonderful things.

You hug your pillow to your chest. “Flowers. You don’t need to go out of your way to purchase any. Just pick any flowers growing in your workplace.”

You can hear the clink of chains. Is he nodding? “I shall pick only the best for you.”

Two weeks. Two weeks away from your captor. It has been so long since you last had a full day to yourself. A part of you feels anxious about the return to your old routine.

“Will you miss me?”

He pauses.

Huh, you are still capable of speaking out loud at the worst times.

The pillow suddenly looks extremely appetizing. But before you can lower your face and muffle your screams, your head is tilted upwards.

You and Capitano are at eye level. The hand on your cheek feels warm.

He is still wearing his mask. You actually prefer seeing him wear it. When his face is concealed, the way he looks at you is a well-kept secret.

But now, sitting on the edge of the bed with Capitano kneeling before you, you can’t help but wonder. What kind of expression is on his face? Is he shocked? Annoyed?

“There is not a single moment when I do not think of you or your safety,” he tells you. He reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers. “Let these be your words of comfort until I return to you.”

✿ ⚘    

Your guard is absolutely unbearable. Because of her, you actually find yourself looking forward to Capitano’s return.

“My lady, it is almost midnight. Is it difficult to sleep when your husband is away?”

You ignore her. Ceres repeats her question.

How did she get assigned to this job?

The Fatui are only marginally better than the Snezhnayans. They rarely approach you or even look at you. Such convenience had been attained the hard way, unfortunately.

-

On your first day in Zapolyarny Palace, you bumped into a soldier in the corridor. Despite you being the one who fell from the impact, they got angry and questioned how “a clumsy weakling like you” was allowed inside Fatui headquarters.

In the middle of their tirade, Capitano left the adjacent room.

It was later rumored that a soldier had passed out in the middle of training. Something about the Captain using them as a live dummy for combat demonstration.

-

Then there was the Eleventh Harbinger. Capitano had attended an appointment with his fellow Harbingers—a rare gathering, apparently—so you had to wait outside their meeting place. When the door finally opened, Tartaglia was the first to leave.

“Oh? You don’t look like you work here,” he said, walking over to you. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Were you listening in on our conversation, little mouse?”

“Um…” You took a step backwards. Were you allowed to speak to him?

“Tartaglia.”

Capitano had exited the room. His hand was on Tartaglia’s shoulder. “For what reason are you troubling my wife?”

“Oh? Is that who you are?” Tartaglia’s eyes lit up. “My apologies! You are different from what I had imagined.”

Capitano’s hand was still on his shoulder. His fingers sunk into the black fur of Tartaglia’s coat. “______, we are leaving.”

He walked away. You followed him.

Tartaglia’s voice echoed into the hallway. “I hope to see you again soon, Capitano! And you too, ______.”

Capitano put his arm around your shoulder. You didn’t resist.

-

The worst case was those two petty recruits. You had just wanted to read peacefully in the library, but they were chatting so loudly that you could hear them all the way from your secluded corner. And their table was a mess of half-opened books.

On instinct, you shushed them and told them to return the books properly.

That sealed your fate. They thought you were the librarian’s assistant and began visiting your spot in the library just to ruin your reading time. You only put up with their behavior because it was still better than reading in Capitano’s office.

One of them put their hand on your shoulder and laughed when you immediately flinched. The next day, Capitano told you that you were staying in the manor.

A nervous guard kept watch over you. When Capitano came back from work, there was blood on his clothes. But the ensuing interrogation was even scarier.

You were no longer allowed to read in the library after that.

-

“My lady, can you hear me? Hello?”

Could Ceres be a spy of some sort? Is she attempting to gain your trust and secrets? Or is she supposed to keep you too preoccupied to think of an escape plan?

You look up from your notebook. “Ceres, is it bothersome living away from home to watch over me?”

“Hmm, not at all. It’s just that my family misses me.” She adjusts her mask and smiles at you. “My parents are always sending letters and packages from home.”

“That must be nice.”

You return to your notebook. Your collection of mint flowers fills the two pages, light blue flowers and green leaves pressed perfectly flat. You try to ignore the ones with yellow leaves.

What is Capitano doing right now?

He could be fighting a battle at this very moment. The thought of him in action, covered in blood, completely unrestrained…you don’t want to visualize that.

At least his violence serves a larger purpose ironically associated with peace. You should be thankful that it isn’t mindlessly directed towards you.

Ceres is not satisfied with your brief acknowledgement, unfortunately.

“Everyone is curious, my lady. How did you end up with the Captain? No offense but considering the contrast between the two of you…what did he see in you?”

What was it, anyway?

“None taken. I don’t know, either.”

What does he gain from you, anyway? A trophy wife? A bed-warmer? A babymaker?

No, if he had wanted an empty marriage from the beginning, he wouldn’t be hiding you from the world. Protective moments aside, he scarcely touches you.

Maybe he just pities you. Maybe he wants something to protect.

In that case, he will tire of you eventually. Judging by his trip to Mondstadt, he could have all the time in the world to meet an unfortunate Inazuman and forget about his despondent little wife.

Then what would happen to you?

Best-case scenario, he sends you back to Mondstadt and you go back to your days of barely living. Or he could simply leave you to the cruelty of the Snezhnayan blizzards. Or dispose of you entirely. The world would not give you a second chance.

Ceres is still speaking. Something about love and home and family and aren’t those such wonderful things to have?

No, Capitano is nothing like them. He doesn’t hurt you. He said that he thinks about you often. Despite your refusal to return his feelings, he remains patient.

But it is for those same reasons that he couldn’t possibly be satisfied with a mere decorative flower.

✿ ⚘    

You have a new roommate. Another adorable little brat who catches the eyes of all the prospective parents.

She takes over the garden behind the building. Your garden, the flowers you had planted and nurtured for as long as you could remember. She plucks the dandelions and blows away the seeds, turning your garden into a barren patch of soil.

The matron doesn’t help you. “It is not your private garden, ______. Can’t you share?”

Share your room. Share your toys. Share the flowers you had poured all of your hope and wishes into.

The ground collapses beneath you. You fall into a bottomless pit and the matron only watches.

-

You wake up in cold sweat.

The room is still dark. You can hear Ceres humming in the hallway.

The first thing you check is your notebook.

Your flowers are all safe.

You breathe a sigh of relief and return to the bed.

The mattress feels too big. You are used to seeing Capitano’s side of the bed empty—he always sleeps later than you and wakes up before you. But somehow, it feels wrong when the empty space next to you is cold.

viii. dendrobium

“My lady, the Captain has returned!”

You look up from your book. Ceres kneels before the front door.

“My lord!”

So she does know how to be professional.

You remain on the sofa and stare at your book.

Familiar footsteps. The clink of chains against metal.

“______. Have you been well?” He is standing in front of you.

You keep your head lowered. “Yes. Was the mission successful?”

Capitano kneels in front of you and takes your hand. “I would not have returned until we achieved victory. Did you miss my company?”

His glove is cold from the snow.

“I guess.” You look up from your interlocked hands. “How was Inazuma?”

There is a dent on the side of his helmet. But other than that, he looks perfectly fine.

“Inazuma has changed since the abolishment of the Vision Hunt Decree. You would have enjoyed the region.” He turns to Ceres.

She is still kneeling on the floor. It vaguely occurs to you that she will have new questions and gossip material after this.

“Sergeant Fames, you are dismissed.”

“Yes, sir!” She stands up and leaves.

Just the two of you again.

“I have your souvenir.” Capitano lets go of your hand and gestures to the table.

There are three wooden boxes. You open one and carefully pull out the fabric wrapped inside.

Dendrobium. Three perfect dendrobiums with blood red petals.

“Thank you!” You pick up one of the flowers and twirl it in your hands. The petals and leaves are a vibrant shade of scarlet. You have no doubt that Capitano had an easy time procuring them and you don’t want to ruin the mood by asking. “They’re even fresh.”

“You can preserve them on your own.” Capitano is already taking out the other flowers. “Is my gift to your liking?”

He had even gotten fresh Naku Weed and Sakura Bloom for you. None of them look wilted nor damaged from travel.

“I love it.” You twirl the dendrobium again. You can feel the small smile on your face. “It is absolutely beautiful.”

“I agree.”

Capitano is still kneeling in front of you. You take a deep breath and return the flowers to their boxes.

“Thank you again. Capitano…could you please remove your mask?”

“Pardon?”

You keep your eyes on the table. “You don’t have to. I just want to see your face.”

This is just a way to thank him and show your gratitude.

There is the sound of chains clinking again. His mask joins your flowers on the table.

You look up.

His face is as stoic as ever. You feel small under the weight of his gaze. Perhaps you should’ve gone for his mask instead.

It shouldn’t be difficult.

…

Warm. His lips are warm.

You are quick to break off the kiss. You try to stand up, only for Capitano to quickly pull you towards him.

“You…” His hands are still cold. But at least his grip is light.

“I’m sorry!” You close your eyes. You don’t want to see his face. “I…I just—”

His hand caresses your cheek, preventing you from turning away.

“Open your eyes, ______.” His voice is still calm. That is a good sign, right?

He isn’t angry.

That confirmation alone is enough to make you relax. He cages you in his arms, a gentle look in his eyes.

“If you desire a kiss,” he tells you, “you need only ask for it.”

With that, it is Capitano’s turn to press his lips against yours.

...It doesn’t hurt. Not at all.

You look away as soon as the kiss is over. Your mouth burns. You want nothing more than to pick up your flowers and press them in your notebook.

But will this be enough?

“Capitano.” You have to force the words out of your mouth. “Would you…like to go upstairs?”

Just tolerate it for one night. For your sake.

That is all it takes for Capitano to stand up and scoop you into his arms. You spot the faintest of smiles on his face.

“As you wish.”

✿ ⚘  

There are bruises on your hips.

You poke the purplish marks on your skin and wince. Definitely bruises.

How long will these last?

“Does it hurt?” Capitano speaks directly into your ear.

“I’m fine,” you reply quickly. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”

The bed is warmer with him in it.

You try not to squirm in Capitano’s arms. He is too close.

“Shouldn’t we get out of bed? You will be late for work.”

“Zapolyarny Palace does not require my presence today.”

So much for escaping The Morning After.

You sigh and flip your body to rest on your right side. You might as well process the full reality of what happened last night.

Capitano has a different look on his face. He looks…relaxed. Peaceful. His gaze is soft.

You glance at his neck. That is when your eyes widen.

Love bites. You didn’t expect your kisses to leave a mark.

His tresses are also tangled. Is it just his usual bedhead or from when you pulled his hair?

You had left your marks on him.

“We should get up.” You sit up, wincing at the chafing sensation in your thighs. “I have to preserve the flowers while they are still fresh.”

“______.” His arm is still wrapped around your waist. “I appreciate the warm welcome.”

No, no, no.

It would have been easier if he was like your previous flings. They didn’t ask you to stay. They didn’t initiate cuddles after the deed was done. They didn’t treat you like glass on a daily basis only to surprise you in the act of lovemaking.

Could you call it that?

You leave the bed and look for your dress. You find it near the door alongside Capitano’s discarded coat. A flash of bright orange catches your eye.

Strange. Capitano doesn’t wear that color.

You put on your dress and glance at him. He is standing in front of his closet, back turned to you. You look away as soon as you see the scratches on his back.

The orange item is tucked into the pocket of his coat. It shouldn’t be confidential if Capitano had just left it there. Upon closer inspection…is that a flower?

You pull it out of the pocket. The flower has been pressed onto a piece of cardstock. It doesn’t look like a flower from Inazuma.

As a matter of fact, it resembles a calla lily.

“______. What are you doing?”

Capitano’s shadow looms over you.

Didn’t you drop it on the day he kidnapped you? Did he ask someone to retrieve it?

“You took good care of your gift," is all you can say.

ix. whopperflower 

It has been colder in Snezhnaya lately.

“My lord, I—oh! Um…I have a report from the Jester regarding your next course of action in Fontaine!”

You don’t blame the secretary for staring. You are sitting on their superior’s lap, after all.

As it turns out, parallel play can be performed even with your new seating arrangement. While you read your books and try to be as still as possible, Capitano has no problem with continuing his desk work.

He has been more physically affectionate since that dearly regretted night. There are new marks over your old scars.

The secretary reads out loud from their report. You open your book.

You are reading a collection of subverted fairytales this time. A twisted assemblage of tragic happy endings and heroic villains and damsels finding love within their so-called prisons. The first story is based on one from the dark fairytale collection Lisa had recommended to you.

She invited you to the Angel’s Share on your last day in Mondstadt. How would your life have played out if you had finally accepted her invitations?

You can feel the rise and fall of Capitano’s chest. His hair tickles your cheek.

Stop pondering on those what-ifs. She would have left you alone eventually. Mondstadt was your own personal tower.

You can still feel the secretary’s gaze on you. You flip to the next page.

Would that make Capitano your knight in shining armor?

…

That is a horrible analogy. You continue reading.

The room becomes silent.

Capitano feels tense. His hand is gripping the armrest so tightly that you expect the wood to splinter. You look up from your book and the secretary immediately averts their eyes.

Did he catch them looking at you?

The tension in the room is unbearable. Even with Capitano’s face concealed, anyone could tell that he is not merely looking in the secretary’s direction.

“Capitano,” you whisper, tapping his hand. You move to stand up. “I’ll go to the library.”

His arm wraps around your waist and pushes you back down onto his lap. You look up in shock, but he is still facing the speechless secretary.

“Did I command you to stop speaking?” he asks them.

They practically jump. “N-No! Forgive me, my lord!”

They continue speaking. You sigh and return to your fairytales.

✿ ⚘    

“Where have you been?”

The air becomes cold. You flinch and close the door behind you.

Your brother is standing in the foyer. “Were you at the library all day again?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly. You lower your head. “Is there a problem with that?”

He glares at you. “I had to do the laundry because you weren’t around. And do you know what Mother said? She told me to redo all of it!”

“And how is that my fault?”

The room spins.

The first thing you register is your brother’s disappearance.

You are inside the closet again. Black ink leaks out of your bandaged wrist and floods the tiny room.

“Brother?” You look around. The door has disappeared.

The ink reaches your waist.

You begin banging on the walls. “I’m sorry! Please let me out.”

The walls close in on you. The ink solidifies.

You are trapped.

Your screams are unanswered.

-

“______? ______.”

The closet disappears. Capitano’s face comes into view.

You sit up, blearily registering the hands on your shoulders. “What…?”

“You were dreaming,” he tells you. “I could hear you talking in your sleep.”

Another nightmare. You must have been loud for Capitano to free you from your dreamscape.

Your hands are still shaking. You close your eyes and take deep breaths.

Just a dream. He can’t hurt you anymore.

“The Maier son is dead.”

What?

You stare at Capitano. His face is completely devoid of emotion.

“Following your disappearance, he suspected you of his parents’ murder,” he explains. “The Knights of Favonius are no longer investigating his family’s case.”

He is still holding you.

What are you supposed to feel in times like these? Joy? Grief? Fear?

“…I see.” You lie down and face the wall. “I’m going back to sleep.”

He just casually admitted to killing someone. Is that supposed to make you feel any better? Does he expect you to thank him?

Your sleep is dreamless.

✿ ⚘    

“______.” Capitano taps your arm. “Are you listening to me?”

You focus on your book.

You don’t want to talk to him. Not after your last nightmare.

He taps his fingers against his desk. “You have been more immersed in your books lately. One may assume that you are using your hobby as a shield once again.”

Just how many people are dead because of you?

“I am not,” you reply curtly. You flip to the next page. “Could you please talk to me later? I am on an important scene right now.”

Your book is confiscated again.

“My—!”

You turn around in his lap. But before you can reach for your book, you are subdued by the light pressure on your waist.

His hand is gripping your waist.

“You are lying,” he accuses, holding up your book. His fingers dig into your flesh. “Chapter III is only the princess’s soliloquy. She does not meet the dragon until Chapter V.”

Your eyes widen.

Has he been…?

You sit properly on his lap this time. Your book is left forgotten on the far corner of the desk.

✿ ⚘    

Six months. Two missions. A floor-to-ceiling bookcase, each book labeled with your own name. Glaze Lilies, Qingxin, Silk Flowers, Violetgrass, purple roses, the petals of a Cryo Whopperflower.

“You even asked for a Whopperflower? My lady, your taste in flowers is truly divine.”

Ceres stands closer to you, one hand hovering over your newly-pressed flower. You slam your notebook shut.

“I didn’t even ask for it. He just gave it to me,” you mutter.

Ceres is undeterred. “Even so, Lord Capitano really goes out of his way to pick flowers for you. I can only imagine the ones he will bring back from Fontaine!”

A mission in Fontaine. Another month trapped in the manor with Ceres.

Hopefully, Capitano returns on time.

“Oh, that’s right! My lady, you came from Mondstadt, right?” she asks you.

“Yes.”

“What is it like? One of my comrades has recently returned from the region; he said that the Windblume Festival is ongoing. It has something to do with flowers, right?”

Has it been that long?

“That is correct. We offer flowers to Barbatos and our loved ones,” you explain. “You can choose any type of flower as your Windblume. Most people choose dandelions.”

“What about you?”

“I have never participated in the festival.”

Ceres grins at you. “Well, you are with the Captain now! You could always celebrate the festival with him next year if he has time for a vacation.”

As if Capitano would allow you.

“There is no need,” you reply. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him any further.”

“For once, I can agree with you.”

Cold. You feel so cold.

You collapse onto the floor. Ice spreads across your skin.

What just…

You try to get up, only for a heavy boot to stomp on your back.

“I didn’t expect you to be this weak. This temperature isn’t even fatal.”

Ceres? She…

Ceres crouches down in front of you, Delusion in hand. The warmth has left her face.

“You know, I was really surprised when I first met you. I was expecting—no, hoping—that you would be different. Someone strong. Someone loyal to the Tsaritsa. Even a simple, happy-go-lucky Mondstadter could have been a good source of motivation. But you…what did the Captain see in you?”

Your notebook is on the floor. Ceres picks it up.

No. Don’t take it.

She rolls her eyes as she flips through the pages. “Preserving useless flowers, reading those fantastical books, staring blankly with the saddest eyes one could ever imagine, causing so much trouble for us.”

It’s mine!

Ceres stands up and throws your notebook aside.

“The Captain does not need someone who will make him weak.”

x. windblume

Your prison is too cramped.

Your head hurts. The restraints are too tight. You can’t see anything in the dark.

They didn’t even bother to use a soundproof cell. You can perfectly hear their conversation.

“Are you crazy?! You did what to the Captain’s wife?!”

Ceres’s voice is deathly calm. “Don’t worry. Lord Capitano has only been in Fontaine for two days. By the time he returns, she will be gone.”

“And if he finds out?!”

“Well, our group is only a small number compared to her previous offenders.” Ceres raises her voice. “How many of our comrades have been reprimanded for simply talking about her? How many were punished for ‘crossing the line?’”

There is barely any space inside this room.

“You should have seen him! Il Capitano kneeling before her as though she were more divine than the Tsaritsa herself. I don’t know how I was able to put up with that sight.”

“Don’t kill her yet.” Her companion sounds desperate. “At least think of a convincing autopsy! Why couldn’t you have just staged a common accident inside the manor?”

Please don’t hurt me.

“Well, that wouldn’t be fun.” You can hear the glee in Ceres’s voice. “You should have seen her face earlier. It was the first time I saw her with an expression that wasn’t so downcast or apathetic. She actually looked alive.”

You hear the sound of receding footsteps. Then silence.

The room is too small.

They will most likely make you suffer through your death.

You are alone.

You bang your head against the door but the action only worsens your dizziness.

Capitano won’t be here to rescue you.

You curl into a ball and close your eyes. The only thing you can do is to block out the world and wait for sleep to claim you.

✿ ⚘    

The meadow is ruined.

Everywhere you look, faceless figures are uprooting the flowers and digging up the soil. They wish upon the dandelions, voices merging into a shrill cacophony of prayers and proclamations. The world becomes a blizzard of swirling seeds.

Stop.

They ignore you. The meadow decays.

You cover your eyes.

Please, this is all I have left.

Quiet. The meadow is suddenly quiet.

You look up.

Dead. They are all dead. Flowers rise from the bloody corpses and burst into full bloom.

The sight is absolutely beautiful.

A twig snaps.

You turn around.

Capitano is standing at the edge of the meadow, covered in blood.

-

The screams are what wake you up.

So much screaming. The sounds of weapons and Visions being used. The door shakes with a deafening crash.

You drag your body to the deepest corner of the cell.

What is happening?

Another scream.

“Lord Capitano! What about your mission? Have you forgotten your oath to the Tsaritsa?!”

Capitano?

Ceres is still speaking. You can hear her frantic footsteps and the sound of her activated Delusion. Another direct crash against the door.

A loud crack.

Blood seeps through the crack under the door and into your clothes. The smell of iron is nauseating.

The door opens.

“______!”

Warm. So warm.

The light is almost blinding but it is quickly blocked out by Capitano’s figure in the doorway.

His arms are wrapped around you. More blood sticks to your clothes but you ignore it.

“You came back for me,” you whisper weakly.

He holds you at arm’s length, checking you for injuries. His voice shakes with barely-restrained anger. “Where did they hurt you?”

His touch is so light.

As if he is careful to avoid hurting you. As if he is afraid that just the slightest additional force could spell your ultimate demise at his hands.

“______, can you understand what I am saying?” He tilts your face upwards.

You really can’t see anything beneath his mask.

Your vision blurs.

The tears won’t stop.

You almost can’t recognize your own voice. The sounds leaving your mouth are too loud and you have no idea what you are saying. So noisy.

But Capitano’s response is to hug you and carry you out of the room.

You bury your face into his coat and continue crying.

✿ ⚘    

An Anemo healer treats your wounds. They confirm that none of your injuries will become permanent scars.

Capitano hasn’t let go of you ever since he found you.

You don’t say anything to him during the medical examination. Your throat hurts from overuse and any little remark could raise questions which you don’t have the energy to answer.

The walk from the medical tent to the carriage is completely silent. The Fatui soldiers avoid your gaze and Capitano has nothing to say.

He is still carrying you. You can’t tell if he is doing it for your personal comfort or to send a clear message to his soldiers. Maybe both.

“Capitano?” You poke his helmet.

The chains sway as he turns to face you. “Yes?”

“How did you find me?” you ask quietly. “I thought you were in Fontaine.”

He continues walking. “I enlisted spies to check on you whenever I am away. Sergeant Fames was not informed, in the event that you convince her to assist in your escape.”

The pain in your throat returns.

Laughter this time. Your cheeks hurt; are you smiling? You feel absolutely euphoric.

Capitano stops in front of the carriage. He waits for you to calm down.

You take a deep breath and look up again, staring into the black void of his mask. “Could you please put me down?”

“...If you run away, I shall capture you immediately.”

“I know.”

The world around you is completely covered in snow. There are no flowers in this area.

You lie on the ground. The cold is less unbearable nowadays. You think you could thrive in it.

The gods have a twisted way of granting wishes. But so be it.

“Capitano.” You stand up, catching yourself before you trip. “I have something for you. Could you lean down for a bit?”

He relents. “Understood.”

You press your lips against his helmet. The metal is cold but the chilling sensation is soon overtaken by the warmth on your wrist.

You have never felt more safe in his grasp.

“...We should depart.” Capitano straightens his posture and holds your hand. “I was successful in procuring two wildflowers from Fontaine before I was notified of your situation. You can add them to your collection later.”

“Thank you.” You intertwine your fingers and look up again.

The smile on your face is reflected in his mask.

“Let’s go home.”

♡

Author’s Note  ๑ Side Story ๑ Epilogue 1 Epilogue 2

Afkdfkdendkwdnwka it took me a whole week to write this and I am so glad that this fic is finally done!! I rlly wanted to write something twistedly wholesome about yandere Capitano with a broken darling, hence having to write this long af fic in order to explain Darling’s character and illustrate her descent into complete dependence on Capitano <3

Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic despite the brainrot and suffering. I hope you all enjoyed this, too  (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

[songmingisthighs]

[10.34] dad!yunho × baby!jinsik × mom!reader

⇀ how can they be so alike ?

⇁ SO @flowerboykun AND I MADE THIS WHOLE XIKERS AS ATEEZ'S BABY THING AND- BRAINROT !!! I NEED TO GET THIS MADNESS OUT !!!! get ready for more of this in the future though

⇁ disclaimer : the author is not forcing any ideas or form of relationship between irl characters. this fic is specifically for entertainment purposes

You have heard stories about how Yunho was the spitting image of his father. Especially in terms of his personality and humor.

So when Jinsik came into the world, you were not surprised that he immediately became Yunho's best friend, a title Mingi let the kid have because he has "genetic privileges". But how can he not? The boy was the spitting image of his dad; his smile, the mischievous glint in his eyes, and the way he acted, they were definitely twins in the past life or something. The connection they just seem to have was amazing, inexplicable even. Sometimes you envy it because they were just like two peas in a pod.

However, this would more often than not mean that they would both act ridiculously in public and when this happens, your envy decrease significantly. You understood them acting goofily when Jinsik was merely 2 or 3 years old, the boy can be a great source of entertainment just from how he laughed; Yunho is awesome with making the kid laugh. Heck, you loved seeing them being so damn adorable together, just having fun while bonding. Just... Not when they were acting like the entire world was their playground. Especially now that Jinsik is 5 years old because he was getting braver and more forward with his jokes and pranks. It's cute, don't misunderstand, but how were you supposed to proudly claim that Jinsik is your son and Yunho is your husband when they walk around public spaces with a plastic container on their heads and called themselves astronauts and proudly claim the frozen food aisle a "new planet filled with breaded subjects waiting to be fried"?

"Honey, look at this!" Yunho laughed, calling out for you from the other side of the rack.

Your little family were out shopping for Minjae's birthday and knowing Hongjoong, you'd have to be very careful when picking his son's clothes. The last time someone made a mistake (Wooyoung with a duckie costume), someone (Wooyoung) got smacked with something (raw bacon).

From the way Yunho laughed, you JUST know that Jinsik did something and you know you HAD to look and react appropriately to boost your son's confidence and not make him resent you in the future. "Good God, give me strength," you muttered to yourself with a groan before plastering a neutral face and going to the other side of the rack. "What is it?" you asked your husband who had his phone out and a cackle on his face. Looking at you with much happiness, he nudged in the direction of his- your son with his head enthusiastically, "Look at what Jinsik is doing!" he giggled.

When you looked at your son, your eyes almost bulged out when you saw he had his head through a stair railing, a big grin on his face as he waved enthusiastically at you. "Mommy, look!" he giggled, moving up and down the railing without a single care. "Wha- Jinsik, get out of there!" you exclaimed, rushing to save your son from being permanently stuck in the railing but Yunho grabbed your arm before you could even move close to your son. In your eyes, Jinsik was screaming for help and was panicking because of the fact you have mother's anxiety (and Yunho has father's nonchalance) despite the boy looking like he was on a Disneyland ride. "What are you doing?" Yunho asked, blinking curiously at you which made you scoff because it was as if the answer was not staring at him back in the eyes with his neck between the wall and the stair railing. "What do you mean what I'm doing? I'm saving our- MY son from having his head stuck there and having to live as the department store stair railing boy," the words came out of you in the speed of light as you wanted nothing more than to get your son out and back safely in your arms. Oh, how much you wish you were a kangaroo to keep your little hopper of a son safe on your person always. Especially knowing what his dad and his uncles are like. "Look at him, he's having the time of is life!" as if to make a point, Yunho snapped his head to Jinsik who was moving around happily on his own, "Buddy, show mommy your microwave bit!" he commanded. Jinsik beamed and nodded enthusiastically, "Mommy, look! I'm last night's pizza!"

Your eyes almost bulged out when Jinsik began turning around in his spot as he imitated the sound of a microwave whirring. Though it seemed like an innocent move and a careful one at that, in your eyes, it seemed like Jinsik was about to twist his neck and have his head pop off. "My God- Jinsik!" this time, Yunho couldn't even stop you as you rush to your baby and immediately tried to get him out of the railing. Despite Yunho's laughter and Jinsik's complaints, you decided to just not listen to the father and son duo in order to save yourself some sanity from being overly worried.

Yunho's laughter slowed down however when he noticed that you were taking some time to get the boy out. "Honey?" he called out, taking small steps towards you and Jinsik, "Is something wrong?" It was then that you turned to look at him with your face pale and Jinsik with his jaw slack, "Yunnie, I think Jinsik's stuck."

All hell broke loose with Jinsik crying and you trying to calm him down and Yunho not knowing how to prioritize between putting down his phone, getting help, stopping recording, getting people to come to help them, and dropping the bags he was holding. There were approximately 3 store employees and 2 security guards working together to free your son from his (self) imprisonment as a small crowd gathered nearby. Even though the employees were working together as quickly as they can, the poor boy just kept crying, snot and tears mixing together down his cheeks. "M-m-mommy I'm s-sorry for no-ot listening to you," he hiccupped as he grips on your shirt tightly with his trembling hands, "Mommy, get me out, please," he whimpered sadly with bottom lip trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. "It's okay buddy, these people are helping you!" Yunho crouched down in front of him, pointing at the workers who were trying to unscrew the railing to let Jinsik out. Though his dad was trying to help, Jinsik couldn't help but pout at him, "You should be here with me," he sniffled, annoyed that though it was both of their ideas to have Jinsik put his head through the railing, he was the only one suffering.

It didn't take long for the workers to get the railing off and once he was free, Jinsik leapt into your arms and buried his face on your shoulders. Jinsik is always affectionate, but it still felt nice whenever he showed affection JUST for you.

Both you and Yunho thanked the workers before hauling ass (from embarrassment). Jinsik clung onto you the whole way out of the store and refused to get down. He was still calming himself down by doing this little habit that he has been doing since he was a baby which is stroking your nape gently.

"Honey, you want me to carry him?" Yunho offered as he reached forward to take Jinsik out of your hands but before he could even touch the boy, Jinsik had slapped his hands away and stuck his tongue out. "I wanna be with mommy," Jinsik said in a mocking tone before wrapping his arms tightly around your neck and hiding his face on your shoulder. His statement made Yunho huff jokingly and pretended to walk faster in front of you two, "Well then, I'll just go have ice cream by myself!" it was obvious that Yunho was trying to bait Jinsik with a treat but unfortunately, Jinsik only waved him off, "'Kay daddy, have fun! Mommy and I will get cupcakes!"

Jinsik might be a carbon copy of his dad, but you were glad that when it comes to his favourite parent, you might be it.

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[tonberry-yoda]

Hi hi hi 👋 I hope youre having a lovely lovely day. Do you like Taylor Swift? Cuz my current obsession is listening to her songs while day dreaming about Gojo. Anyway i was listening to "I Think He Know" and I want to ask, what's your headcanon for Gojo if he know/found out you been having the biggest crush on him since the dawn of time? Like how would he react/act?? What would he do? Full brainrot.

-starberry anon

Gojo finding out reader has had a crush on him since forever

notes - STRAWBERRY ANON I LOVE THIS IDEA AHHHH <333 I'm not a Taylor Swift fan, but omfg this idea is honestly everything to me!! I literally have like a whole thing in my mind for this because I have thought about this exact idea a thousand times lol. Thank you for requesting it because I am more than happy to share my thoughts! Have an awesome day and brainrot right there with you babe <3

like this idea has been on my mind for god knows how long

he's cocky

^ we know this

^ because of this though, he knows that everyone is in love with him LMFAO

you and gojo have known each other since high school and have been through thick and thin together

^ like the shittiest situations and biggest fights are all in the past and a part of your story

but honestly, he never considered you as an "option" if that makes sense

he knows that everyone thinks he's hot, but he didn't think you did

you made fun of him and laughed with him and went everywhere with him that you didn't feel like a random simp, just another half of him

then bro realized.... OOOOOOH... I have a crush

^ like duh gojo

he figured this out about himself at a serious time thought and didn't think about bringing it up to you

and then you two separated for a while, didn't see each other because you were traveling the world

when you saw gojo again in the future and you two went out for coffee or something, you were just looking down into your cup and giggles, nonchalantly saying, "you know, Satoru, I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school... still do"

bro almost choked on his coffee

he looked at you with wide eyes and was like "huh?!"

you told him everything: that ever since you met you fell for his silly ass and he just listened, nearly tearing up

he has been alone a long time after everyone he loved left, so to hear you say all that and not deny that he still has a hold on your heart nearly made him start sobbing in a cafe LMFAO

but then he told you that he felt the same

you smiled at him and moved down his glasses, telling him he had pretty eyes

he blushed, duh

and from there, it was history <3

~~~~~

jjk masterlist | pinned post | ko-fi

2023@tonberry-yoda– do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[dirty-bosmer]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @skyrim-forever @lucien-lachance @thequeenofthewinter @kookaburra1701 @mareenavee Thank you <3

Tagging: @gilgamish @atypicalacademic @elavoria @dumpsterhipster @wispstalk @miraakulous-cloud-district @ladytanithia @viss-and-pinegar @nuwanders @sylvienerevarine @paraparadigm @rainpebble3 @inkysqueed @throughtrialbyfire @orfeoarte @weirdisme @fenverflymm (<- forever keeping up with ur usernames lol) and whoever else has something to share this week :D

Back on my Slither and Writhe brainrot. A snip from chapter 5.

An hour or so later (who could tell, really), Sylawen returned to the large indent in the ground she’d come to claim as her bed. She wondered if the ransom letter had ever made it to her parents, if they were gathered around the hearth having sent off the money as demanded, praying to their disparate gods for her safe return. And if it hadn’t? Surely by now they’d know she hadn’t made it to Whiterun. Yes, of course. Surely. With a groan Sylawen curled inward, reverting to a primordial grub-state, hoping some pale, filmy membrane would sprout outward from her spine to enclose her, and she prayed to whichever of her parents’ gods would listen that when she woke up, either the world would be sparkly and brand new or she would. “... done wasting all my time with this, Thrynn,” came Garthek’s voice from the floor above. “No word yet, and it’s been weeks. I ain’t waiting around to hear back about this damn rendezvous.” “C’mon, it’s not been so long. Not sure if you’ve bothered looking at a map, but Falkreath is several thousand miles away from—” There was a thud and a stumble, the sound of wood scraping against wood. Someone had been shoved against a chair. “Don’t smart mouth me, boy,” Garthek hissed. “Now, I’ve wasted too much damn time on this plan of yours, and for all we know, her family’s sending mercs instead of money. We need to get back to the Pale, been south for too long with nothing to show for it, and now the damned Jarl is hounding me for tribute if we want to keep working in his hold. Says he needs a cut, and it’s sure as all hells’ ain’t coming out of my pocket.” “I know it’s taking longer than expected,” Thrynn said, his voice strained, “but her family’s good for the money.” “That’s what she told you? Shit, I’d tell you my papi was good to lick your ass if I thought it would keep me alive a day longer.” “Look, it’s slim pickings here. Few caravans come through the pass this near to winter, and scouts say the Legion’s been gathering near Helgen, so we’re pretty much limited to—” “Nah, we ain’t limited to shit. We’re going north, Thrynn, back to the camp, and we’re not bringing your little elf bitch with us, so get rid of her.”  “Garthek—” But Garthek didn’t reply and as his heavy footsteps stomped out of the room to an inaudible distance away, Sylawen realized Thrynn was left alone upstairs, alone with his orders and his bone-handled knife.  She bolted up. From above came the sharp creeak, creeak, creeeaak of the floorboards and his steps moving closer to the basement hatch. He wouldn’t. She sunk her hands into the dirt beneath her as if to find a root buried nearby, something to grasp onto, to ground her. He wouldn’t. He can’t. Creeak, creeak, creeeaak. There he was, right outside the hatch now, and she could hear the rattling of the iron rung as he grasped it to lift. The rusted hinge croaked out its late lamplight dirge because for all it knew, this was the last time it would be opened, and once it shut again, it would remain forever closed.

For whatever reason the fact that Thrynn had a history as a bandit has remained embedded in my brain, and if there's anything I know about writing fic, it's that I have to cram in all the random NPCs I can.

[calliopeslyrics]

watching the Percy Jackson show makes me so emotional and nostalgic on a whole other level. It’s almost as if I’m recounting my own childhood memories but the way everything is handled with love and care for the material, the way the trio is so young and small and yet the gods see them as nothing but their own personal problem solvers whenever it’s convenient (looking at you, Poseidon) makes me tear up unironically because I never would’ve imagined seeing the books come to life with such precision that the pjo brainrot returned.

Like I cannot imagine being 12 and having to go across the country within a week to stop some family drama that could result in another war among gods and mortals. Where monsters and gods alike are trying to kill you because of your parentage when you don’t even know what your father looked like.

I remember reading Percy Jackson in middle school and loving the fact that he was my age and with every book, I grew up with him. I remember talking to my friends about the latest chapter we had read during recess and we would write about our own little demigod adventures. We would read those imagines about percabeth on instagram and conspire about how our music teacher was probably a monster like Mrs. Dodds because of how mean he was. My friend was a daughter of Poseidon and I was a daughter of apollo and we absolutely freaked out when trials of apollo first came out because of the little cameo Percy made in one of the chapters.

And now that I’m older than walker, leah and aryan and I’m seeing their characters go through all these challenges against gods and monsters and even their own extended family at CHB, I’m like omg they’re literal children. They did not have to go through all of this trauma year after year, fighting for their parent’s attention and approval.

At the end of the day, all the demigods are just kids with major mommy and/or daddy issues trying to be claimed by the very godly parent that left without a trace before they were even born. They can’t live in the mortal world without having to fight for their lives and they’re practically stuck at camp if they’re not claimed by a particularly strong or important god to even go on quests. Middle school me did not understand the layers of lore and significance of Percy’s unwavering loyalty to his mother and his friends that have fought alongside him countless times in a world where it’s eat or be eaten.

anyway I’m feeling completely normal about the series :)

[ruthlesslistener]

Hi hello I have been very obsessed about your concept of territorial gods lately. How far must two (or more) gods' domains/territories overlap in order to actively cause conflict, or at least activate their territorial tendencies?

Heyo, glad to hear that you're stuck with the same brainrot that I gave myself!! The answer here is a mix of two things: personal animosity (ie, Radiance vs Unn), and niche overlap. I tend to take a very biological/ecological role to the gods of Hollow Knight because it's incredibly fun to me, but also because there is a small nugget of merit in the game itself- the major conflict is between two gods of Light, with a minor background turf war happening between Unn and the White Lady, two gods of greenery. In these cases, land = resources such as the density of worshipers, which is important because to an ascended god, receiving tribute is what sustains them and grants them their power + longevity. Essentially, worship = food, so being possessive over the source of your food is what leads to territoriality.

For the Pale King and the Radiance, both gods of Light, whose followers worshiped them as the source of said light, this means that they shared the same religious niche as each other and thus were incapable of coexisting. If a bug prays to the Light, they could mean either the Old Light or the New, so a previously-steady source of worship turned to something more capricious, even though they differ slightly (PK is the moon, Radi is the sun). Neither can or want to share. That's why PK converted the moths to worshiping him even though the territory he physically claimed was below the Radiance's and the people that he came to primarily rule over were the beetle tribe, rather than the moths- he needed to eliminate his competition by weakening her source of power. The ceding of Crystal Peak to Hallownest was something that happened incidentally, but was necessary to fully remove the Radiance from her seat of power and thus eliminate her as competition.

(That's also why I don't believe that the diminished Moth Tribe we see in-game is because of him- that would have been shooting himself in the foot. If worship is what sustains a god, then why willingly destroy your livestock? Radiance seems to have done it out of spite, but that's because the Radiance herself is a very spiteful individual, whereas the Pale King was cold and calculating.)

For Unn and the White Lady, I see it more as a primary vs secondary succession takeover, a ceding of old territory to a new, more powerful god (albeit unwillingly). Both are gods of greenery, but Unn is old and fading, and the White Lady is...well, not exactly new and spry, but she certainly doesn't seem diminished, not by anything other than her grief. They are both nature gods, but there's a slight bit more difference between their realms in that Unn is a god of moss (nonvascular plants) whereas WL is known by the Root, aka vascular plants. That's kind of why I see the White Lady encroaching onto Greenpath as a secondary succession sort of deal- in my headcanon for Hallownest, the first god was the original Shade Lord (or the Void itself, rather), and the caverns themselves were full of the Void Sea. Then, over time, the Sea slowly receded to the Abyss- helped in part by the arrival of the Radiance- and left bare rock caverns behind. Unn took advantage of this bare space to create the Mosskin and start converting the bare rock to verdant greenery via her moss (much like how mosses and lichens irl colonize and break down bare rock for minerals), and then the accumulation of sediment from her centuries as a god allowed for WL and her rooted plants to take hold and start colonizing the space in turn.

As for the Radiance and the Shade Lord- that came about partially because they are fundamental opposites, and partially because the Radiance herself is a very offense-heavy person by nature, as we see from her relentless attacks and willingness to throw hands (lasers?) in-game. Rather than squabbling over resources with another god, like she did with PK, the Void was a threat, a predator of sorts, so she had it and its followers eliminated. Crystal Peaks is as far from the Abyss as physically possible, and the moths seem to have stuck to the surface or near-surface of the caverns, but the mere prescence of the Void itself was enough to threaten her, so burned it away and slaughtered any and all who refused to either swear fealty to her, or continued to worship it. That's why there's so few traces of the Void civilization left, and why the Snail Shamans (who have a connection to void magic) are mostly hidden away, and why the place you can get the Abyss Shriek is full of their carvings + the dreamnail dialogue Our voices will cry out again. She saw a predator near her nest, and so she preemptively destroyed it. Justified, I suppose, but uh, not to that extent.)

(PK clearly didn't have the exact same reservations as the Radiance did, but then again, Soul is not the antithesis to Void the way that Essence seems to be- probably bc of the moon metaphor going on with him vs the Sun vs the Night one that Radi and the vessels have. He can work with the Void, even if its dangerous to him. Though I shall also make the case for him having a scientific curiosity for it which affected how he interacted with it.)

All of these reasons are also why PK and WL can coexist peacefully too- PK is a God of Light and Mind, WL is a God of Root and Life. Their aspects and realms of worship don't conflict with each other- they coexist. So a mutualistic relationship is not only possible, it's beneficial, and that indeed seems to be why they thrived so well pre-fall. It's also why Hallownest (as in, the Hallownest that the Beetle Tribe claimed) was also so big- because those were the territories of two gods merged and working in tandem, rather than guard what they had alone. It's also why other Higher Beings could exist next to PK with relatively little conflict, since he had no interest in their worshipers and they wanted nothing to do with his- though WL ofc had some contesting with Unn.

I will say that in my hcs as well, unascended wyrms are the exception to all of this- they are incredibly territorial because their massive ever-growing bodies are nutrient sinks on both the mortal and spiritual plane. That's why they're incredibly violent interritory altercations, despite the rule of thumb for pretty much all living things being a conflict-avoidance policy if possible: territory wars and/or mating events can also double as a massive food source if they can kill the other god, so fights often rapidly escalate to the death with them because if they can't win a territory, then hey, might as well raid the coop while at it. This isn't something of 100% certainty because if a fight turns bad for them then they WILL disengage to conserve energy (and they usually do their damned best to avoid other wyrms in general), but that isn't something you want to risk. I hc that PK arriving to Hallownest raised a whole bunch of alarm bells in the residant gods up until he killed himself to be reborn anew, which was such an un-wyrmly move that it settled everyone's hackles back down again (bar for Radi, but she never would have been able to coexist with him anyways). And then PK giving up his wyrm form meant that he didn't need to eat practically at all on top of the energy gains he got from worship, so that saved everyone a lot of trouble too.

[covenofthearticulate]

God, I know you have to have done this at some point so forgive me but: That Miles post you just made has made me absolutely craving "rockstar bf Louis" headcanons like crazy. So, like...indulge me? lol

JUNE thank YOU for indulging ME!!!! listen i have such bad rockstar bf louis brainrot and believe it or not, i actually haven't done a proper post about it so here goes nothing:

He claims to hate the attention, but he does love it when folks get jealous of him. thousands of men and women fawning over lestat, and at the end of every night he's in Louis' bed :)

He gets so MEGA OFFENDED when people come to him with requests for lestat (autographs, interview requests, etc.). He always growls something like “I’m not his keeper.” and shoos them away.

(The ironic part of Louis insisting that he isn't Lestat's keeper is that it's totally untrue— he's practically Lestat's manager. The press HATE him because anytime TMZ or other paparazzi begin to swarm and ask nosy questions, Louis will interject before Lestat has the chance to put his foot in his mouth. Louis "no comment" de Pointe du Lac is incredibly curt.)

At one point there was a minor typo on some TVL merch. Louis bought the entire stock so that no one else could have it, because he insisted it was a “poor reflection” on Lestat. (Eventually Daniel finds the stash of discarded typo shirts and makes a small fortune for selling them on ebay).

In a world in which Lestat does other shows outside of the San Francisco one, Louis gives very specific blocking notes. "If you go any further downstage, you'll be in the audience. The lights are too bright and you'll get burnt to a crisp by the pyrotechnics. You must remember to cross upstage left at the beginning of your Children of Darkness song."

In the same world where Lestat is doing regular shows, Louis always befriends the stagehands (and quite often gets mistaken for one, on account of him wearing all black all the time).

Despite how much he complains about Lestat being too pampered, Louis always insists on providing an aftercare routine for Lestat after his shows. He gives him a bath and takes off the stage makeup, makes sure he's fed, and if he's still riled up after a particularly exciting night, Louis will wear him out in bed.