#he knows what times i get home and wakes himself up from naps to wander upstairs to see me

[crystallinestars]

How They React to Your Death

My HCs about how I think the Genshin boys would react to your death. I wanted to write Kaeya too, but ran out of steam.

This month has been terrible to me, so I was in the mood for angst. I don't know how well these turned out, but they were fun to think about.

Part 2 here.

Characters: Alhaitham, Childe, Heizou, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, and Wriothesley

WARNING:

Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details.

Spoilers for the backstories of all the mentioned boys.

MAJOR SPOILERS for Act V of the Fontaine Archon quest in Neuvillette's part.

Childe's part contains mention of suicidal thoughts.

Kaveh's and Venti's parts contain alcoholism

🎧 Alhaitham

Despite Alhaitham’s considerable wealth, no amount of money could cure your Eleazar sickness. His money could only buy treatment that prolonged your life a little bit, but ultimately your many years of battling the illness ended when he got news from the doctors that you had passed away in your sleep.

Alhaitham had accepted the news fairly quickly. He knew your death was inevitable, could see you slowly wasting away each time he visited you in the hospital over the past few months. So it was no surprise to him when the day finally came. The other patients and staff thought it strange how Alhaitham had no visible reaction to the news, but some chalked it up to shock when in truth the Scribe was simply accepting of that fact. There was no use denying something that already happened.

When Alhaitham came home that day, the house felt silent and empty. It reminded him of how the house felt when his grandmother passed away when he was younger. The sensations were similar. However, he did not cry over your death. Instead, he carried on his life as normal, or as close to it as he could now that you were no longer a part of what he considered ‘normal’.

At first glance, people thought that Haitham was unaffected by your death. Nothing about him changed. Not his mannerisms, his quality of work, or his expression. He remained the same reserved, stoic Scribe who had no time for trivial nonsense or extra work. He also never talked about you to others aside from confirming their question if you were truly gone. Alhaitham was like a well-oiled machine that worked efficiently like clockwork, keeping up the same even rhythm.

What they don’t see is how he comes home with the expectation of hearing your voice greet him upon entering, only to be faced with a defeating silence that makes his heart sink. They don’t know that Alhaitham wakes up throughout the night, expecting to find you snuggled up next to him in bed the way you used to before your sickness got worse, and you had to be hospitalized. However, you weren’t there no matter how many times he looked towards your side of the bed, and the Scribe could only sigh and try to fall back asleep while ignoring his aching heart.

No one sees how Alhaitham gets too lost in his books in the mornings and accidentally makes two cups of coffee instead of one due to force of habit. Or how, for once, he finds the silence of his house bothersome without your voice and the sounds of your activities resounding within the walls, and it’s enough to distract him from reading. He could be found reading at the House of Daena and Puspa Café more often from then on.

During his afternoon naps, Alhaitham sneaks back home and cradles your favorite blanket to mimic the sensation of holding your soft body in his arms the way he used to when you joined him for naps. He listens to recordings of you talking with him just so he can hear your voice again. He was glad he made the decision to record your voice at the hospital before you became too weak to speak. It gave him the chance to hear you one more time even if the sound of your voice made his chest hurt so much that he occasionally had to stop the recording to collect himself.

Nobody sees how Alhaitham finally picks up the fiction books you recommended him because they were your favorite. He prefers non-fiction, but these books are the last things he has left through which he could connect to your mind and way of thinking. He reads them all cover-to-cover even if he finds the story lacking or the writing not to his taste. He will learn to treasure each and every word because you once did.

What someone might see, as Kaveh did when he moved in with the Scribe, is a bookshelf filled with a few journals, a thick book with an emerald cover, and an assortment of fiction books that exist nowhere else in the house. Alhaitham never talks about these books unless asked, but their well-worn covers are a sign of frequent use, and sure enough, one can catch him reading a rare fiction book during one specific month each year.

🐋 Childe

You went missing after going out to collect some firewood in the woods near Childe’s home. A search party was arranged to find you with Childe in the lead, and he was also the first one to find your remains. Your body had been torn apart, blood and innards splattered across the snow, no doubt the work of some rifthounds. Usually, Childe would relish in such a gory sight, but not this time. Not when it’s your blood and flesh painted in the snow.

The sight leaves him numb. He’s numb when the search party comes to retrieve you, numb when he sees your parents weeping over your gruesome death, and numb when he takes on the duty of exterminating every rifthound he finds around Morepesok.

He wants to cry too, to grieve for you the way he needs, but refrains. He doesn’t want to appear weak and unreliable when his younger siblings mourn and cry over your death. You were like family to them, and your death broke their little hearts to pieces. Childe didn’t want to burden his siblings further by breaking down in front of them. He needed to remain a reliable older brother who could support them through this tough time, even when his own heart bled and he cried in his sleep when he dreamed about you.

Childe’s underlings noted that the Eleventh Harbinger became colder and more irritable after your passing. Any mention of your name would garner the speaker a harsh glare, and if Childe assumed what said person said about you was disrespectful, he didn’t hesitate to start a fight and beat the other person within an inch of their life. He became violent and unhinged, much like how he used to be when he returned from the Abyss as a fourteen-year-old boy.

Childe knew his behavior was irrational, and it pained him to see even his own family fear him due to his violent actions. He felt restless. Spending time at home among your belongings summoned feelings of longing and sadness, but even so, he couldn’t bear to throw anything away. He lived among the ghosts of your existence, however, it drove him mad with grief.

Childe needed an outlet for his emotions, so he took to fighting monsters and other strong opponents. He became even more reckless in battle. If before, the Harbinger sought out strong enemies to test his mettle against them and grow stronger as a result, now he sought out an opponent that would be worthy of taking his life.

Childe didn’t want to abandon his family. He loved them dearly and wanted to see his siblings grow up to be happy and successful people, but life without you felt so hollow. A part of him wanted to return to his family, but the sense of his family feeling incomplete never left him. You were just as much of a family to him as his siblings and parents were. He had plans to start his own family with you. But now… now, a part of him yearns to reunite with you in the afterlife. He promised he would stay by your side no matter what, and Ajax is not one to break his promises.

🔍 Heizou

Heizou was one of the first to hear about your stabbing that occurred in an Inazuman alleyway late that evening. You were rushed to a doctor to have your wound treated, but the robber who attacked you hit a vital area. Your blood loss was colossal, and it wasn’t long after arriving at the doctor’s that you succumbed to your injury.

To Heizou, the news brought on a sense of deja vu. He’s already lost a friend to crime in the past, and now he lost you to crime, too. The knowledge made him furious and heartbroken. He was angry at the robber for stabbing you just so he could steal some money that you didn’t want to part with, and he was angry at himself for failing to prevent this. After his friend passed away, Heizou swore to nip crime in the bud by discouraging criminals from committing crimes with the threat that he would find and capture them no matter what without fail. But what good did his resolve do if you still died because of an armed robber?

The heartache and guilt he felt ate away at him as the memory of your ashen face during your last few moments haunted him. He lost you. Never again would he get to spend time with you and make you laugh, kiss and hug you, or tell you he loved you.

His anger drove him to capture the murderer in record time, but hearing the criminal’s subsequent sentence for theft and murder didn’t comfort the detective. No amount of jail time would ever atone for the loss of your life.

After that day, Heizou lost his playful demeanor, becoming somber and reserved. He threw himself into his work, feeling pressured to capture as many criminals as he could in as little time as possible. However, his grief and exhaustion caused his mind to dull and make mistakes while investigating clues. It got to the point where Kujou Sara had to forcibly send him on vacation so he could take a break and properly process your death.

Despite his protests, Heizou knew he wasn’t much use in his current state, so he took this free time to visit your family and mourn together with them. He apologized for not doing a better job of protecting you, fully expecting your parents to lay blame on him for not protecting their child. To his surprise, your parents didn’t blame him at all. They even thanked him for catching the murderer and helping them to feel a little more at peace. Heizou’s interaction with your family helped him feel a tiny bit less guilty about your death.

The experience left him feeling a little less broken, so in the following days he sorted through your belongings in your shared home. He packed away some items to return to your parents, some things he put in storage, and others he gave away that he remembered you wanting to get rid of. A few of your items he kept for himself, one of which was a scarf you mentioned you bought because it was the same shade of green as his eyes which reminded you of him.

Heizou wore your scarf as a keepsake and good luck charm and would hardly be seen without it when he finally came back to work. What once served as your reminder of him, now served as his reminder of you, the person he loved with his whole being. But with the memories of you came the reminder of how you died. Though the memory was painful, it helped Heizou work up the will to keep pursuing his goal of eradicating crime. Even when the case was extremely tough with conflicting clues, your scarf would remind him to not give up, to not let another incident like yours happen again, and Heizou would persevere. He would continue to persevere no matter how long it took because he didn’t want innocent lives like yours to be snatched away so cruelly. Maybe one day, he will see you in the afterlife and proudly tell you all about how he achieved his dream. Until then, he will work hard to be worthy of the title of Inazuma’s best detective.

🍷 Kaveh

Kaveh had a lot of work to do. He was saddled with creating drafts for another large project while also trying to work on the commission for constructing a library in Aaru village for the children. Wanting to help alleviate his burden, you offered to take the finished drafts over to Aaru village yourself so he could focus on finishing up work for his other project. Kaveh tried to object, saying you really didn’t need to trouble yourself on his behalf, but you insisted, expressing your desire to help him finish his work sooner so the two of you could spend more time together again. After some deliberation, he let you go to the village by yourself, confident that you could make the trip since you accompanied him there several times before.

A few days later, Kaveh received news that you had died on your return trip from the desert. When he heard the cause of your death, his stomach roiled. You perished in quicksand just like his father. You died doing something for his sake, just like his father did.

Whatever future plans he was building together with you, whatever progress you made in helping him slowly heal from his trauma, it all came crashing down around him. Your death reopened old wounds Kaveh was only starting to heal from, as well as left new scars that tormented him every waking moment.

The first few weeks, Kaveh couldn’t stand to be in your shared home. It was full of memories of you, and each and every one of your belongings would stab at his heart like a blade. Moreover, the house felt so silent without you around. It reminded him of when his mother left for Fontaine, leaving him alone in a house too big for only him to live in. Now, he was reliving that moment all over again, but it was worse this time because, unlike his mother, he would never see you again.

Kaveh also couldn’t stand to look inside his sketchbooks. The pages were covered in various sketches of you, and looking at them only made the anguish and guilt grow in him tenfold. He blamed himself for your death, attributing it to being his fault just like he attributes his father’s death as his fault too. No matter what anyone says to console him, he will never stop believing it’s all his fault.

Fueled by guilt and self-loathing, Kaveh spent several weeks visiting Lambad’s tavern practically every day. One could even say he lived there since the architect seldom went home. He used what little money he had to buy alcohol, especially of the stronger kind. He wanted to numb the pain in his heart and to pretend that you weren’t really gone from this world. The alcohol helped to muddle his mind until his intoxicated brain conjured happy memories of you together, and Kaveh would mumble your name in a drunken haze. Other times it didn’t help, and Alhaitham, Cyno, or Tighnari could often find a drunk Kaveh quietly crying while slumped over a table and trying their best to drag him home while listening to his drunken babble of self-loathing and regret.

It will take a long time for Kaveh to feel okay again, and even then, he will never be the same optimistic and cheerful person he used to be. You were his muse, the one who made him feel like maybe he was deserving of love after all. But with you gone, he lost his creative spark. His designs no longer held the same extravagant and artistic flair they used to. Now, they’re more tame by comparison. With your passing, you took with you the little bit of joy he felt towards the world, and it seemed more bleak than it used to be when he was with you.

Kaveh refused to seek out love after your death. He’s lost too many people he held dear and has been left alone over and over again. The pain of being left behind and of feeling like he will only bring misfortune to those he cares about, made him seal off his heart. He doesn’t want to let people close to him like that again, and neither does he want to replace you. You were, and still are, very special to him.

Despite numerous years going by after your passing, Kaveh never forgot you, and he didn’t want your memory to be forgotten either. He built an art school and dedicated it to you in honor of being the one who inspired him so much in his creative endeavors. He hopes that your name will live on and continue to inspire future generations of artists long after he is gone from the world.

🎩 Lyney Having grown up in the House of the Hearth with Lyney and Lynette, the twins were practically like family to you. Though admittedly, Lyney and you developed romantic ties rather than familial ones the more you got to know each other. It was no surprise to anyone when the two of you became a couple, and Lynette even encouraged it.

Being a member of the Fatui, you were often sent out on dangerous missions to infiltrate enemy territory and report your findings back to Arlecchino. You were good at your job and had major successfully completed missions under your belt, but even the best slip up sometimes. After infiltrating enemy headquarters, you regularly reported your findings back to the House, however, one day the correspondence stopped. You went completely silent. The thought of you being caught immediately crossed Lyney’s mind, but he was hopeful that as an experienced agent, you would manage to find a way out somehow. You always have in the past, and after having worked together with you during joint missions, he saw first-hand how capable you were. To pass the time, he focused on polishing a magic trick he wanted to show you upon your return.

Days go by, and just as the magician is about to lose his patience and run off to try and find you, news about your body washing up on a riverbank reaches his ears. The heartbreak Lyney experiences upon hearing the news is indescribable. He felt lost, disoriented, and anguished. A part of him refused to believe the facts, but after witnessing the gruesome sight of your corpse, he had no choice but to face reality.

You were dead.

Lyney wondered at length about the cause of your death, and while his own guesses made his stomach knot, the autopsy report he read a few days later made him livid. Numerous torture and abuse marks were found on your body. It seemed that the enemy had captured and tortured you, hoping to force you to spill some of the Fatui’s secrets. Judging by the severity of the most recent wounds, you must have kept quiet because more brutal torture methods were used on you until the enemy figured out they wouldn’t get anything out of you, and disposed of you. Lyney knew how loyal you were to your family. You would never betray them even at the cost of your own life, but in that moment, he really wished you would have treasured your life more. Maybe then you could have survived. Maybe then he would have had the chance to hold you in his arms and tell you he missed you while you were gone. Maybe he would have had an opportunity to show off the magic trick he created specifically for your eyes only. But now, he’ll continue to miss you until the day death comes for him too. Lyney’s initial reaction upon hearing of your torture is overwhelming fury. Lynette had to hold him back from recklessly running off to take revenge against the enemy. It took a lot of reasoning on her part, but eventually, her brother calmed down.

Once his bout of anger passed, Lyney broke down. Lynette didn’t hide her own tears as she held her brother in her arms while he cried. The siblings both missed you dearly and mourned your loss, but Lyney took your death especially hard. He felt broken. One of his most precious people was taken from him in such a cruel manner, and the mere thought of how you must have spent your last few waking hours made him feel horrible.

He was anguished and angry, and the potent concoction of negative emotions weighed down on his heart and mind. Gone was his cheerful smile and outgoing attitude, replaced with a cold and somber frown. His calculative side took center stage. Though his initial burst of outrage passed, he wouldn’t give up on his desire for revenge until the act had been carried out. Aside from the twins, Arlecchino also refused to take your death lying down. You were her precious child, someone she put in a lot of love and effort to raise, and this transgression angered her as much as it angered Lyney. Together with Arlecchino, Lyney and Lynette infiltrate enemy headquarters and make every person a part of that organization pay. The magician ensures that the perpetrators experience the same pain you went through during your torture, and by the time they’re done, not a soul is left alive.

Even after exacting revenge, Lyney barely feels a smidge better. Though your captors have been neutralized and won’t hurt anyone the way they hurt you ever again, it doesn’t satisfy Lyney. At the end of the day, all he wants is to have you back in his life. He consoles himself with pieces of your clothing. Your clothes smelled like you, and Lyney hugged one of your items every night, breathing in your scent and soaking the material with his tears as he quietly cried. It takes a long time for Lyney to get himself together and act like himself again. Though he could easily put on a fake smile for his audience, his heart still aches inside. He misses you no matter how many months go by, and Lynette has her hands full comforting him when he breaks down at night and cries about how much he wants to see you. Lyney would have had an easier time accepting your death if you had passed away more peacefully, but knowing you were tortured to death will forever haunt him.

Once he feels more like himself, Lyney incorporates the magic trick he originally wanted to show you upon your return into his magic shows. He only performs it during special occasions so it would leave a great spectacle upon his audience. It was once made to awe you, but now it awes his audience, and a part of him feels some semblance of catharsis in knowing he could inspire others to feel the same joy you made him feel using just this trick. At times like these, Lyney feels as if a part of you was still there with him, enjoying the show he secretly dedicates in your honor.

⚖️ Neuvillette

You were visiting your friend Navia in Poisson, when the Primordial Sea flooded the area and caused a great catastrophe that took the lives of many of its residents. Neuvillette was aware you were in Poisson when the disaster struck, and he tried to get there as quickly as he could to check on you. He would have arrived there immediately were it not for the pressing matters he had to settle prior. He hoped the Traveler and Paimon would find you and keep you safe since they knew you were the Iudex’s beloved.

When he finally made it to Poisson, to his morbid surprise, he found neither you nor Navia, but some Fatui members helping to mitigate the damage. When he asked about your whereabouts, he was told that nobody had seen you. Immediately, his thoughts ventured to the worst scenario, but he refused to believe in his fears until he could get confirmation. He held out hope that you were alright, and went in pursuit of Navia and the Traveler, hoping that maybe you were with them, or they knew what happened to you.

It wasn’t until he was saving Navia from getting dissolved in the Primordial Sea water, did he catch a glimpse of your face. You were trying to protect Navia from certain death, along with Silver and Meluse. At the time he was too anxious about saving Navia to fully register the implication, but an unsettling thought sprang in his mind that maybe you really were— No, he didn’t want to accept it.

When Navia regained consciousness, Neuvillette asked her about your whereabouts. Her answer pierced through him like an ice-cold lance. With tears in her eyes, Navia recounted how you were helping Silver and Meluse rescue the residents of Poisson when the Primordial Sea flooded in, and how she saw your body dissolve in the water along with her loyal subordinates with her own eyes. The news settled in Neuvillette’s stomach like a boulder, causing it to sink and make him feel nauseous. Dread filled him, but he could only muster a quiet “I see…” and stare off into the distance. He felt crushing sadness, but he wasn’t given time to properly process his emotions and your death until he managed to make it out of the ruins.

That evening, Fontaine was hit by a torrential downpour that lasted several days. The rain fell in heavy sheets, flooding the streets and urging most of the citizens to seek shelter in their homes. Only the Chief Justice had the gall to stand outside and let the rain seep and soak through his clothes.

Neuvillette let the water droplets cascade down his face, imitating the tears he wished to shed as the realization that he would never see you again settled in. It was strange. Though he was on land, each waking moment he was pursued by a constant feeling of drowning. His chest felt heavy as if burdened by a great weight that made each breath he took feel like a herculean task.

Neuvillette felt a lot of emotions he couldn’t find the words for. He was frustrated and angry that innocent civilians had died in the flood because nothing was done to prevent it. So many people died. You died. If nothing else, he wanted to get justice for your and the others’ deaths.

However, Furina refused to provide answers to his questions despite his probing and insistence that now was not the time to keep secrets that could potentially help prevent an even greater catastrophe. That was when he turned to seeking aid from his companions, in the hopes that Fontaine could still be saved. Neuvillette lost and gained many things in those few days. The citizens of Fontaine were freed of their curse, and Neuvillette had obtained a position of complete authority, however, it all came at the cost of the lives of innocent civilians, Focalors’s life, Furina’s mental state, and… your life. Those were great prices to pay, and Neuvillette mourned each and every sacrifice.

Now that he had some time to himself to process his feelings, Neuvillette recognized that what he felt was grief and longing. He wanted to see you at least one more time, to feel you in his arms again. To have you taken from him so suddenly was too painful. He never got to tell you one last ‘I love you’, and he could only hope that his words reach you wherever your consciousness might be now. Fontaine will see frequent rainfall in the coming months. It won’t be easy for Neuvillette to get over your death, and some part of him will always ache and yearn to see you again. But one thing he can do is strengthen his resolve to make Fontaine into a nation that both you and Focalors would be proud of. A nation where tragedies like these will never happen again.

🍃 Venti

Venti liked to climb up on high places like his statue in front of the Favonius church, the rooftop of the Cat’s Tail, or the great tree at Windrise. Today, you found him high up in the tree, absentmindedly strumming a new tune on his lyre. Wanting to surprise the bard, you tried your best to climb the tree as quietly as you could, but right as you were about to pop up and surprise him, the branch you were on snapped, and with a heart-stopping shriek, you plummeted down to the ground.

Your scream alerted Venti. He felt your presence before you even started climbing the tree, but he failed to foresee the danger until it was too late. He didn’t react fast enough to summon a gust of wind to safely lower you down. The sickening crunch of your skull hitting the ground made his stomach roil, and for a brief moment he felt as if the blood in his veins turned to ice. He felt frozen in place.

Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Venti rushed to your side to check on you, but the enormous pool of blood blooming around your lifeless body made him throw up.

Not again. He lost someone he loved once more. The painful emotions of losing you triggered a cascade of memories of seeing the broken body of that one boy he called a friend thousands of years ago. The same boy whose face he now wore as a way of honoring his memory and giving him an opportunity to live out his dreams of freedom through Venti.

Venti felt that same feeling of heavy emptiness once again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, your blood smearing the white sleeves of his shirt. One of the bard’s hands cradled your still-warm cheek, and he wept. To have you taken away so easily through such a small accident… it was too much.

Venti didn’t attend your funeral. He couldn’t bear to. However, he forced himself to watch from a distance as your loved ones gathered around your grave. He fully empathized with their grief.

In the following days, one could often find Venti at a tavern. He started with Angel’s Share, but after consecutive days of heavy drinking and drunken ramblings about how remorseful he felt and how you deserved better, Diluc put a stop to Venti’s visits. The Anemo Archon wasn’t getting any better from drinking himself into a stupor until he could barely hold himself upright. It was heartbreaking to see.

Even after being banned from the Angel’s Share, Venti would visit other taverns in the city and rinse and repeat. He so badly wanted to numb the pain in his heart and forget the awful memory of your lifeless body. Only after several bans did Venti finally stop coming to the city altogether. He disappeared for a while, and nobody was able to find him. Only after many weeks did the bard suddenly pop up in the town square with his lyre in hand.

During his absence, Venti wrote a few songs as a way to cope with his grief, and after a while, finally felt well enough to play them. As a bard, he was well-known in Mondstadt for playing cheerful and beautiful tunes, but this time his melodies were melancholic, even sad. They listened to him sing about a love he can no longer say ‘I love you’ to anymore, someone he can no longer forge new memories with and can only carry on in his heart as a memory. The music he played captured the attention of every member of the audience and touched their hearts so deeply that they, too, could feel the sorrow the bard was trying to convey through his melodies. His pain became their pain, too. The heartache was so profound, so raw and crippling, that many people couldn’t hold back from crying.

Venti wasn’t playing the songs to earn money or share his sadness with others. He was playing them for you. He hoped that his feelings would reach you wherever you were and that your memory wouldn’t fade away even if he remained the last person alive who knew of your existence. His songs will keep your memory alive in the hearts of the Mondstadt citizens, never to be forgotten.

☂️ Wanderer

You have been fighting chronic sickness for months, but despite the treatments, each week you seemed to get worse and worse. Neither the doctors of Sumeru nor even Nahida herself could figure out a cure for your condition. You were bedridden with barely any strength to move. Wanderer took responsibility for nursing you back to health by helping you get to places you needed, cooking all your meals and feeding you, as well as getting your medicine and administering it.

Despite his efforts, you could tell you wouldn’t last long. While you still had the strength to talk, you apologized to him for being forced to part from him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, with a frown pulling at his lips. “Rather than talk about such nonsense, use that energy to get better instead.”

He didn’t want to face the facts, to accept the reality that you could disappear from his life. But then came a day where you no longer opened your eyes when he called your name, nor stirred when he tried to shake you awake. Your body was cold and stiff and so unlike what he was used to seeing you as. The life you possessed was gone in all senses of the word.

Something in Wanderer snapped that day. Falling to his knees, he let out a guttural scream that tore at his vocal cords. He unleashed a wail that carried all the anguish and misery he’d been keeping bottled up inside for hundreds of years. He’s lost so many people he cared for in the past. Each time he met someone he grew attached to, fate would always tear them away from him, and you were no exception.

He cried bitter tears in the privacy of your shared home, cursing Fate for doing this to him over and over again. He was angry and heartbroken. Though he lacked a real heart, the sensation in his chest felt like something inside him broke into a million tiny fragments. As if sharp needles pierced through his non-existent heart and caused him to scream until he lost his voice.

He wanted revenge, but how can one get vengeance against Fate itself?

You were gone, so cruelly torn away from his side despite his best efforts to keep you alive. You were the little ray of light that never gave up on him no matter how cold he was towards you or how much he pushed you away, and helped him heal little by little. You accepted him in his entirety and wormed your way into his non-existent heart, so how dare Fate mock him like this? Wanderer truly felt as if Fate was purposely torturing him by taking away all those whom he held dear.

Helpless and anguished, Wanderer reverted to the days when he used to be Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers who was infamous for his callousness and mercilessness. His roiling emotions spurred him to repeat these spiteful acts against anyone who got in his way. It was the only way he knew of how to vent these overwhelming emotions that made him feel like he was choking on his grief.

It took Nahida’s interference to calm him down and get through to him that you wouldn’t want him to be like this. The Wanderer you fell in love with wasn’t such a hateful person driven by negative emotions, and though he was loathe to admit it, the God of Wisdom was right.

Having quelled the initial burst of wounded anger, Wanderer would think more clearly about what he should do from now on. He could keep all your items, photographs, and letters, but they would never replace you, only help preserve some of the memories attached to them, which a puppet like him had no need for. He won’t forget even the smallest thing about you, not as long as he’s alive.

Wanderer becomes a regular visitor of your grave, taking care of it so your name won’t be erased from the gravestone by time too quickly. He would frequently bring your favorite foods and flowers and place them in front of your grave, before taking a seat next to it and staring off into the distance without saying a word. He did this mostly at night so he could stargaze, just like how you both used to when you were alive.

Even centuries later, when everyone who knew you took their memories of you to their graves, Wanderer will remain to watch over your final resting place, unwavering in his devotion.

🐺 Wriothesley

You accompanied Wriothesley on another one of his swims out in the open waters surrounding the Fortress. Since you weren’t a vision holder, you had to wear a diving suit to breathe, unlike your beloved Duke. You’ve had these private little swim dates a few times before, so your guard was down when you swam through some jagged areas of the Fortress’s scaffolding. The shoulder of your diving suit caught on a sharp edge of metal and tore a hole in it. The tear was fairly large, and you panicked when you felt water rush inside your suit. Wriothesley was quick to freeze the hole and pull you up to the surface to get the suit off of you, but by the time he did, it was too late. You had inhaled too much water and were unresponsive. Wriothesley tried to keep his anxiety at bay and utilized all the CPR knowledge he learned from Sigewinne to try and save your life. He breathed air into your lungs and did chest compressions with enough force to hear your ribs crack, but even after 30 agonizing minutes of trying, you wouldn’t wake up.

Wriothesley had no choice but to accept the fact you died. Wriothesley doesn’t cry for you. He’s no stranger to death. His exposure to it in his younger years made him all too aware of how easy it is to die, and that death came for all without exception. As a result, he was able to accept your death a little easier than most, but it doesn’t mean he made peace with it. The staff and inmates at the Fortress all said Wriothesley looked the same as usual even after your death. He kept up his laidback yet intimidating demeanor and busied himself with the variety of work someone in his position was required to take care of. Only Sigewinne could tell that Wriothesley was not alright despite all the strained smiles he gave everyone. The bags under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, a clear indicator he wasn’t sleeping well. She saw how he threw himself into his work, barely taking any time to rest properly, as if wanting to keep his mind busy from the horrible memory of seeing your corpse. Though he tried to mask it, in truth, your death affected Wriothesley deeply. He had frequent nightmares about watching you drown and being unable to save you, and they would keep him up at night. He usually awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding from intense panic and dread until his mind cleared, only to be replaced with a stone-cold reality that made the feelings of guilt come rushing back. Out of habit, he turns to your side of the bed to seek comfort in your presence but seeing it cold and empty served as yet another harsh reminder that you were gone. Wriothesley can’t sleep after his nightmares, so he opts to work out or fuss over his gauntlets to distract himself from his feelings. It takes all his self-control to keep a lid on his emotions and not become the angry, irritable mess he knows he will be if he’s not careful.

When he makes tea, Wriothesley accidentally makes two cups out of habit. One for you and one for him. Even weeks after your passing, it was still a difficult habit to break. For the first while, Wriothesley would even stop drinking your favorite tea blend because it reminded him of you. Rather than enjoy the flavor, all he tastes is bile in his throat. The flavor of your favorite tea makes him nauseous because it makes him think about how you will never taste this again or have another tea date in his office.

There was one occasion when he tried to drink your tea shortly after your death. He thought maybe the flavor would remind him of the happy times he shared with you, but all it resulted in was a broken teacup from the force of his grip, and Sigewinne fussing over his cuts and burns. He didn’t drink your favorite blend for a long time after that, only being able to find enjoyment in it again many years later when the startlingly clear memory of your death didn’t hurt him as much. Wriothesley felt lonely without you. You were the friend and confidant he told his deepest and darkest secrets about his past, the comfort he sought after a difficult day, and the soothing presence that made him feel accepted for who he was without all the embellished titles. But after your passing, the Fortress of Meropide seemed cold and gloomy, as if devoid of the warmth it once had that made him call it home. It was as if your death snuffed out the little ray of warm sunshine he felt when spending time with you.

[pvppybun]

Nap Time

Gn!Reader, sfw

This is a repost from my original acct @angelbvnny !!!

Tartaglia, Wanderer, Kaveh

Tartaglia

Naps are quite an often occurrence with you and Ajax. Being a harbinger is very demanding. He's always pushing his body past it's limits. So by the time he arrives home, he's ready to pass out. You know when the day's been a particularly hard one when your normally lively over the top boyfriend enters without a word.

He will head straight for you, sneaking up from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist, letting out a sigh of relief. This has happened enough for you to know what he needs. You turn around giving him a light kiss on the lips. "Wanna take a nap?" His tired dark eyes stare at you for a moment before nodding.

As the two of you lie down he instantly clings onto you, tightly holding you in his arms. His hands are grabbing onto the fabric of your shirt. You can see as he slowly relaxes and his shoulders loosen. A smile appears on his face before light snoring can be heard. He's out within minutes.

I hope that you got everything done before this because you'll be stuck here until he wakes up. But you can't be upset when you see the peaceful look on your boyfriends face as he cuddles you <3

Wanderer

Scara doesn't get tired easily, so naps aren't too often with him. It's usually you that wants to take one. And he always agrees to it because while he will never admit it, he will do anything you tell him to, not without complaining about it of course. But in the times he does initiate it, it's more for intimacy purposes rather than actually resting. Because it's hard to say what he wants! In fact he would consider it to be humiliating to ask you to hold him.

Speaking of being humiliated, even asking to take a nap is difficult for him. So instead he opts to follow you around the house until you get the hint. Any time you turn to him asking if he needs anything, he simply shrugs and stays silent. He does get frustrated when you don't figure it out though (even though it's basically impossible to know what he wants) so he starts to sigh. But you still don't get the hint. So then the sighs get louder, and grow longer.

So you ask him for the nth time what's wrong, and by this point he can't take it anymore and tells you "Take a nap with me." Oh. Was that all? You're relieved he's not actually upset over something. It's actually pretty cute that he went so far just to ask you to take a nap with him. So you wrap up whatever you're doing and lay down with him.

He insists on being big spoon, holding you against himself. But somehow as you are sleeping he always manages to end up being cradled in your arms by the time you wake up. Whether it's intentional or not you aren't sure, but you choose not to mention it to spare him the embarrassment, and if it is intentional, you wouldn't want him to stop. You're glad Kuni feels safe enough to be that vulnerable with you <3

Kaveh

Kaveh has absolutely no respect for his sleep schedule. More often than not he will be up the entire night working on his latest project. So by the time evening comes in the following day, he's in dire need of a nap. And you're always ready to take one with him :)

He will come home from the Akademiya, immediately searching for you. When he finds you, he will moan and groan, talking about how exhausted he is and how he simply can't do anything until he recharges with his darling! He'll put his hand on the small of your back, urging you to the bedroom. He's already quite a needy boyfriend, but when he's tired, he NEEDS you. Needs to see you, touch you, hold you. Just to be with you.

Absolutely loves being little spoon. Don't get him wrong, he loves cuddling no matter how you're doing it, but something about being held by you makes his whole body relax and mind go empty. He specifically loves laying his head against your chest. Between the warmth from your body heat and the blanket he's snuggled under, he is OUT.

If he wasn't already, he instinctively grabs onto you when he's sleeping. Holding your hand or gripping your shirt. Kaveh has a surprisingly strong grip when he's unconscious. He just wants to get closer to you. Closer and closer and closer.

[featherandferns]

angel (fic)

jj maybank x fem!shy!kook!reader | technically the sequel for fascinating new thing, but can be read as a stand-alone too

content warning: pure filth, to be honest; sex (f and m self-pleasure; protected, p in v)

word count: 3k

blurb: jj knows there's something hidden beneath all the layers of quiet and meek; he just has to coax it out of you.

Nobody expected JJ Maybank to end-up having a thing for you, including JJ himself. He couldn’t explain how it happened, or when exactly, but it went from him being somewhat wary of you to completely desperate to have your gaze on him. It seemed that one day you just had him: hook, line and sinker. JJ had sort of accepted that he didn’t have a chance, especially with a certain ginger haired boy lingering in the background. He’d admire from afar and settle for friendship if that’s all you could offer him. But then you kissed him, and everything seemed to fall into place. JJ was allowed privy to your thoughts and the different facets of yourself: watching you song write and waking you from a nightmare and indulging in the late-night baking. He liked every part of it. Everything that was you.

Well, almost everything.

“You can’t seriously enjoy this crap?”

“Be quiet, please,” you mumble.

JJ rolls his eyes. He has one arm under his head, propping it up so he can see the screen of your laptop, and the other on your stomach, resting atop your tee shirt. He’s spooning you, cosy under the sheets of your bed.

It’s the second time he’s been in your bedroom. It’s a nice room; perfectly encapsulates you. Vinyl records and CDs and a million and one potted plants and succulents. Fairly lights draped above your bed and around a pinboard of pictures and keepsakes, shining a delicate golden hue on your belongings. An acoustic guitar rests against the wall by your bedroom door. It’s wide open right now. No need to have it shut; your parents aren’t home.

Looking back to the screen, JJ tries and fails to hold in a sigh.

“Can you be quiet, please?” you repeat.

“Who is that? The guy?”

“George the third.”

“The third? Is that the one that murdered all his wives?”

“JJ, I can’t hear it,” you complain quietly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He barely pays attention to the drama on the screen, too busy foraging through his brains for the history of English royals. “Is he though?”

You sigh, annoyed. “No. That’s Henry the Eighth. And he didn’t murder all of them. Just two.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay then,” JJ sarcastically replies.

For some reason, he feels as though you’ve rolled your eyes. He attempts to watch the show that you’ve become obsessed with lately. The characters don’t talk like normal people. Everything is so flowery and over-the-top that he hardly understands what they’re talking about. It’s boring and dull and overdramatic. He lets his mind wander.

“Baby?”

“JJ?”

“Just a quick question.”

“Yes?” you sigh, patience clearly dwindling.

“Is George the Third the one that got really fat?”

“No, that’s George the fourth,” you say.

“Which one’s George the third then?”

“George the third is the one that was ruler when America won its independence. I mean, do you listen to anything in history?” you chuckle. JJ feels the muscles in your belly tighten and loosen as you do.

“Sometimes,” he shrugs. “When it’s interesting. Like, I don’t get how all of this—”

“Shush! I can’t hear what they’re saying!” you snap.

JJ can’t help but snigger. He likes when you lose your temper with him; let the good-girl side of you slip for a moment to put him in his place.

He nuzzles his face into your hair. It smells like cedarwood and salt water. Maybe he’ll just have a nap. You’re not coming away from the show anytime soon – not until the episode’s done, anyway. JJ closes his eyes and vaguely tunes into the droning of dialogue. Lady this and sire that. He’s just about to properly drift off (maybe it’s been five minutes or so) when he’s woken by the feel of you pushing back against his groin. His hold tightens on your stomach and he reluctantly inches his body away slightly.

“Baby don’t do that,” he mumbles sleepily into your hair.

“Do what?” you reply, absentmindedly.

You’re still watching the Goddamn show. He’s not sure if you’re playing dumb or not.

Then, you do it again.

JJ inhales sharply. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Rubbing up on me like that,” he tells you, half-laughing. “S’not fair.”

“Sorry,” you mumble.

He opens his eyes and looks down at the laptop screen. The moment he makes out what’s happening in the show, it clicks. Oh.

Smirking, JJ can’t keep from taking the piss.

“You didn’t tell me that you’re into regency era porn.”

“Shut up,” you reply all too quickly.

“Is it like all royal era stuff or just Henry the third things?”

“George the third!”

“Tomata-tomato,” JJ mutters. Quiet. Then: “Does it have to be in a bathtub or…”

“JJ!” you whine, embarrassed. He laughs into your hair. “Stop it!”

“Alright, alright! I’m just messing around,” he sniggers.

You don’t reply, don’t even seem to be listening to him, with your eyes shamelessly fixated on the screen. JJ starts to watch too, half-curious as to what has you so entranced.

The lighting is dark. Who JJ has finally come to grasp as king George the third is fucking his wife in the bath. She’s riding him, grinding down on him, still in her dress. The music swells with sharp, dramatic violins. This time, when you push back reflexively against JJ, he doesn’t complain. Instead, he uses his hand that’s placed on your stomach to keep you there. He’s only half ashamed to admit that he’s turned on by the regency-era-sex-scene from your corny, cheesy TV show.

Half hard, he rubs against you, sighing into your hair as he does. You don’t shake him off. Instead, you push back against him.

And then, the scene stops. It’s daylight. Cutting to a scene in a conservatory.

JJ shifts his hand so it’s under your tee shirt, moving to stroke at the skin. He feels your stomach constrict underneath his touch, as if you’re holding your breath, and then relax. He places a kiss to your neck, then another, and begins to work on a hickey. You let out a shaking breath, eyes only half-focused on the show, now. One of your hands comes down to lay atop of his, though not in discouragement. JJ can’t help but rut against you again. In the haze of kissing at your throat, he finds himself wishing a silent prayer that you won’t pull away this time.

He doesn’t mind waiting. Really, he doesn’t. He’d probably wait forever for you (if he really had to). He knows how nervous you get; knows all of this is new to you. Understands. Doesn’t want you to feel pressured. But, God, JJ would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to fuck you. That he didn’t jack off almost every night to the thought of it. That seeing you, drenched head to toe, stood in nothing but a bikini after surfing didn’t have him shifting in his seat. That having you pressing up against him like you had been tonight didn’t make his mind shoot off to the darkest, dirtiest places. So, yes, he’ll stop if you ask, but he’s praying, borderline close to begging, that you don’t.

Your fingers loop into his hair, pulling him off your neck. He shifts enough back so you can turn your head, meeting his eyes. Your breathing heavier than usual, lips wet as if you’ve been licking at them. Your eyes are dancing over his face, back to his eyes, glancing at his lips. JJ’s hand on your stomach continues scratching softly at your skin. He gently rubs himself against you. Please.

“I’ve never done this before,” you whisper. There’s a tinge of nerves to your voice.

JJ nods. Swallows. “I know.”

“But…I want to,” you quietly say. A smile teasing at the corner of your lips as you nod. “If you do, that is.”

JJ leans down so his forehead bumps against yours. He exhales a chuckle against your lips. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about since the hammock.”

You giggle, perhaps a little stunned at the confession, and then your lips are on his.

JJ’s rolling onto his back, sighing into the kiss, pulling you atop of him. His hand that was under his head now reaches out to close the laptop, shoving it to the foot of the bed (hopefully where it won’t fall off). Then he’s kissing you with newfound hunger. Tongue slipping into your mouth lewdly, brushing against yours, swallowing your sighs and breaths. Whenever you break apart, it’s for less than a moment. Your hands have come up to cradle his face, fingers splayed across his cheek and jaw. One of his resides on your waist, squeezing at the skin, and his other has fallen onto your bare thigh; the pyjama shorts you’re wearing having ridden up.

When you lean back against him, rolling down on his crotch, JJ groans against your lips. The gasp you let out is small, startled, as you feel him, hard against you.

“We don’t have to,” JJ reminds you, though the id in him is crying out yes, we do. Please.

You shake your head, hands still on his face. “I want to.”

Thank fucking God.

As the two of begin to kiss again, JJ lets his hand creep up your stomach. His fingers gently trace up the soft skin. He feels the ripples of your breaths as he goes; they’re uneven. Bringing his hand up to your chest, cupping at the bare skin, you sigh against him. He begins to tenderly palm at your breast, running a finger back and forth over your nipple, grinning to himself as he feels it harden at his touch.

You’re grinding back on him now, making him uncomfortably hard under his boxers, sensitive as he rubs against the fabric. JJ opens his eyes to look up at you, your kiss naturally breaking as you begin to breath more and more heavy. Frowns as he sees you dig your teeth into your lower lip. He lifts his hand from off your thigh to bring his thumb to your lips, tugging it free.

“I wanna hear you,” JJ mumbles, tone only slightly demanding.

You open your eyes. They’re angel-like; innocent and shining under the fairy-light glow. Then, you do something that has him twitching, horny past the point of no return. You take his thumb into your mouth and suckle at his finger. JJ groans at the sight. Jesus Christ. Something in you seems to shine through and take control. You don’t say anything as you hold his hand in both of yours, guiding his thumb out your mouth only to begin sucking on his pointer finger. Your eyes slip shut as you do, as if you’re getting off on doing so, and you sigh out a quiet moan. JJ feels himself begin to smirk, taken aback somewhat. Okay…

Pulling his finger from out of your mouth tentatively, he lets his thumb pinch at your chin. The dampness of your spit streaks onto your skin, if only slightly. JJ suddenly knows what his new favourite thought of you is. Your chest is rising and falling, lips parted, cheeks warm as if there’s a part of you longing to be embarrassed. But you’re not. Not shying away from him, at least. JJ’s hands find the hem of your shirt and coax it over your head. As he goes, he guides you to lie down on your back – head at the foot of the bed – and crawls on top of you. One of your feet hesitantly rubs at the back of his calve. Then your fingers are tugging at the bottom of his top and he leans back to take it off. Easing back down to kiss at your chest, he can’t help but sigh against the sensitive skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your nails dig into the skin of his back. You don’t reply, but he feels as though you’re shaking your head. Glancing up, he frowns.

“You are,” he repeats.

“Can you not say things like that to me right now…” you mumble, retreating back into yourself.

JJ sighs, somewhat disappointed.

“Sorry,” you add. It makes JJ chuckle, his breath fanning against your chest.

“You don’t gotta be sorry, baby,” he replies, moving to kiss at one of your nipples. One of your hands creeps up to his face, fingers slipping into his hair. A small gasping exhale at the sensation. “Just wish you saw yourself the way I see you, sometimes.”

You’re sighing at the attention he’s giving your body. His hand comes up to grope at your neglected breast. More gasps, more breaths. You’re still so quiet. JJ knows it’s in there, could see it trying to break out when you were sucking on his fingers, he just has to coax it out of you.

Leaning back (a string of spit following), JJ sits back on his haunches and takes you in. Wonders what to do with you, as if you’re fully at his mercy. You’re looking at him, watching him. Laid out on your back, near bare and gorgeous, breathing heavy. You're half covering your chest, not used to being so exposed before someone.

Maybe he’ll just fuck you now. JJ's barely holding it together as it is. No, you’ll be too tight if he does. He has to remind himself that this is new to you. He wants it to be worth it. Wants it to be perfect. Not only that, but he also wants you to appreciate yourself and your body the way he does. Words clearly aren’t gonna cut it; you go squeamish at the faintest of compliments. But maybe…

JJ feels the shadow of a smirk grow on his face with an idea. Makes your lips twitch with a frown, as if confused where his mind might be. The he’s reaching for your spare hand that’s found purchase in the bed sheets. Taking it by the wrist, he guides it over your body, down to your shorts. Your eyes dart up from following it, meeting his eyes. Your lips move as if to say something, but you don’t. So quiet.

“I got an idea,” JJ tells you. He’s so hard it hurts, but he can’t pass up on this opportunity.

Your gaze doesn’t break apart from JJ’s as you let him guide your hand with his under the hem of your shorts. He manoeuvres your fingers easily (you pliant like a doll) and slides it through your folds. You’re soaking. The feel of it makes you gasp. Leaning down, using his other arm to prop himself above you, he guides your conjoined touch back and forth, skimming over your clit. The brief, fleeting touch makes you moan.

JJ smirks. There it is.

“Feel good, huh?” he breaths against your ear, teasingly. You don’t reply but he feels your hand gain more control, working to finger yourself. JJ chuckles. “Knew you were dirty underneath all the good-girl shit you put on.”

It seems that whatever strap was holding you together has snapped. Your honeyed voice is crying out, in moans and whines. Eyes shut, head tilted back, and JJ basks in the sight of you. He gradually lets his hand leave yours, slipping out of your shorts, and watches as you continue getting yourself off underneath your shorts. Chews on the inside of his cheek as he does, bucking against your leg desperately. He can’t help but pull himself out of his boxers, jacking off at the sight. At your sweet, hopeless sounds. Your spare hand is coming to his throat, pulling at his jaw, guiding his lips to yours in a lustful, messy kiss. You’re moaning into his mouth, gasping, voice high and desperate.

“Good girl,” JJ croons. It spurs you on. He’s smirking again, gasping through his own pleasure. Fuck. You’re perfect. How are you so Goddamn perfect?

“You close, baby? You gonna come?”

Your reply comes in a stammered, broken gasp. Yes.

JJ forces his hand from himself, quickly moving to grab at your wrist, pulling your fingers away. They’re drenched. You whine at the loss of contact, so close to the edge it seems, and he chuckles darkly against your jawline.

“Not yet,” he simply says.

As JJ moves to take off your shorts, shucking off his boxers in this process, he catches a glimpse of your hand moving back up your body. His eyes flick up just in time to see you slip your used fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean. Fuck. How JJ doesn’t come on the spot is beyond him. You open your eyes, catching his gaze, and meekly pull them from your mouth. Before you can form the inevitable apology you’re bound to give, JJ’s darting down to capture your mouth in a kiss. Then, he’s climbing atop of you, rubbing at your entrance. Has the both of you gasping against one another.

“Wait,” you mumble, pulling back. “We need a condom.”

“Shit, yeah,” JJ pants. He’d forgotten about that. You point vaguely to your bedside table.

“There should be one in there. Somewhere.”

JJ chuckles slightly and nods, leaning back to riffle through. He can’t help but notice the vibrator, making a mental note of that for another day. Finding one, he’s coming back to you, sliding it on, desperate to be inside of you.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he keeps his eyes on you.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

“I will,” you quietly reply, a hand coming up to cup at his jaw.

JJ nods and begins to slide in. His eyes reflexively shut; he can’t help it. It feels fucking amazing. Sex with feelings is better than any kegger hook-up he’s ever had.

But you’re tight, too tight, and it’s like your body is trying to push him out. Opening his eyes, he looks down to see your face twisted in pain, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut.

“Hey, hey,” he mumbles, thumbing at your cheek. You force your eyes open, gazing up at him. “You gotta relax, alright? Just breath out for me.”

You take a moment then do as he asks. He feels your body soften. Nudging a bit further in, you actively try not to go tight again.

“It’s just me,” he reminds you. “You’re doing so good, alright?”

To keep you lax, he rubs gently at your clit. Eventually, your body opens up to him. Once JJ’s eased all the way in, you’re squeezing him like a vice.

“You can move, JayJ,” you say, almost anxious that he isn’t.

JJ laughs a little. He won’t last a second if he moves right now. Closing his eyes, composing himself, he replies, “I really can’t. Gimme a second.”

Soon enough, the two of you sink into a rhythm. JJ places a hand one side of your head, another on your hip, angling you up slightly. Your back begins to arch and you’re moaning again, and JJ decides that it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. Prettier than when you sing. The sounds echoing off the bedroom walls are filthy enough to make Satan himself blush.

"Fuck baby. Feel so fucking good."

Groaning against your shoulder, moaning into your ear, JJ feels his resolve begin to break. He’s close. The way your body is reacting to him has him thinking you are too. His hand leaves your hip to rub at your clit. Quick, firm circles. You start to gasp, high pitched and euphoric, and JJ know he can’t last much longer. It’s too good.

The moment you finish, JJ lets go. The two of you come almost together, riding it out, clinging to each other as if you’ll float away if not. JJ eventually let’s himself collapse on top of you, breathing shallow and frantic. You’re still clenching around him, body dealing with the aftershocks.

JJ’s not sure how he’s supposed to go about the rest of his life knowing what it’s like to have you in bed. How he’s meant to get anything done with the memory of how you sound, gasping out his name. The picture stained in his mind of you sucking your fingers clean.

He presses a kiss to your damp neck, then another and another until he somehow finds your mouth. You sigh as you kiss him back, a hand coming to cradle at his face yet again. He pulls back, opens his eyes into yours, and you give him the sweetest smile he’s ever seen. Bashful and blissed out and beautiful.

“I love you,” you tell him, still a little breathless.

JJ smiles back. Heart stammers.

You wanted him. You picked him.

Kissing you once more, tender and fleeting, JJ sighs. “I love you too.”

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: sub!Renjun x Dom!gn!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Somnophilia vibes (He's awake/lucid). Jerking him off. Whiney Renjun. Softer sex than I usually write. Focus on aftercare.

| wc: 2k

| aurora's note: this was originally written as an fem!oc x male!idol!oc fic for me and my friend. i apologize if i messed up changing the names/pronouns. please let me know if i missed anything so i can fix it. thanks!

The trash left on the counter was a clear indicator that Renjun had gotten home from rehearsals early, by some miracle, and it seemed that he treated himself to some take out before stumbling to the bedroom to take a nap. You sighed. You weren't going to fault him for being as exhausted as he was all the time, it was something far out of your control, but you weren't going to bother with all the take-out trash on the counter when you were tired too and just wanted to see your Renjunnie So you neglected the chores and walked towards the bedroom. Sure enough, as expected, Renjun was laying in bed, in his daytime clothes, on top of the comforter, his knees tucked up slightly while he rested on his side so that his back was facing you as you watched from the doorway. He really had just plopped down the second he could.

“Gwieyo…” you muttered under your breath.

You closed the door behind you before approaching the bed and slowly sliding on top of the covers alongside Renjun in order to not stir him. Renjun was breathing lightly rather than snoring, which usually meant that he wasn’t dead asleep— If he were, he would have been snoring so loud that you would have heard it the second you opened the front door to your shared apartment. You dared to move closer. Truthfully, if he was out of it, you didn’t want to wake him… But you also couldn’t help yourself from wanting to hold him when he looked so adorable it squeezed your heart and twisted your stomach until you couldn’t think straight… So you carefully reached around him, one arm snaking under his weight while the other went to the top of his hips, and you pulled his back close to your chest with a content sigh.

Renjun whined slightly. “Hi…” he grumbled, half awake.

“Did I wake you?” you whispered in his ear. He shook his head. “Were you waiting up for me?” He nodded. You smiled and kissed the soft spot just behind his right ear. As you gave him a loving squeeze, he whined again and shifted around, trying to roll his hips over so that they were facing down into the mattress. “Where’re you going, hm?” You held him as tight as you could without bothering him.

To no one’s surprise, your hands began wandering mindlessly around Renjun's body, though there was certainly always a goal in mind whenever you had him in your arms like that and you elected to tease him. Renjun knew it. He tried to pretend that he didn’t understand because it riled you up, and this time was no different with the way he closed his eyes and acted like he was falling asleep in the hopes that you would either surrender completely or continue and give him exactly what he really wanted— You weren't stupid either. Whenever he tried to hide himself from you, that meant he didn’t want you to know about something embarrassing… Usually it had to do with wanting you. Renjun had a bad habit of getting desperate when he was tired, and you had an even worse habit of wanting to use him whenever you had a long day at work. Whenever Renjun looked so cute, it was impossible to hold back. If he was tired, submissive, and whiney, you realized you only ever had one option, honestly.

Your hands worked their way under Renjun's shirt, your palms laying flat on his stomach while your fingers massaged and scratched gently at the different parts of his stomach that were a mixture of both soft and proof of his hard work in trying to work out with his group members who wanted to help him get abs. You didn’t care what he looked like. He knew that. You liked in the winters how he’d have more for you to grab onto when you were bored; and you also liked the summers when he was working out constantly and dancing until his muscles were more noticeable than usual. That was why Renjun could find comfort with you, however, because no matter what would happen, you would be by his side, kissing his cheek, and whispering praises in his ear.

As you played with Renjun, his stomach tensed. It was reactionary to how cold your fingers were and how the lingering touches across his torso were starting to tickle, but most notably to both of you, it was sending all the blood and sanity downwards. To test your luck, you trailed your fingers upwards before ghosting them over one of Renjun's nipples. He gulped and bucked his hips backwards slightly. You grinned to yourself. When Renjun didn’t protest any of your very obvious intentions, you did as you pleased by moving your other hand down to the hem of his pants, finding easy access under them, and the second you made contact with his erection, Renjun rolled his face into the pillows to cover up a pathetic moan that he was embarrassed to let you hear. Of course you couldn’t let him get away with that.

“Let me hear you, baby,” you whispered in his ear.

He shook his head slightly.

You wrapped your hand around his length then drifted your thumb over his tip. As another moan left him, you couldn’t help yourself. The hand under his shirt immediately escaped so that you could grab his chin and force him to look straight, his pants and gasps echoing throughout the bedroom.

“Wanna hear your pretty sounds.”

Renjun continued to moan with every exhale when you pumped your hand up and down his length. Every now and then, your thumb would tease his tip to discover that he was slowly leaking for you, which meant that you had him exactly where you wanted him: Wrapped around your finger. The faster you went, the harder he panted. The more you teased him, the more his hips wiggled against the mattress and your body that was still pressed tightly behind him.

“Please,” he begged breathlessly.

You hummed a curious tone, unsure of what he meant.

“More… Faster… Fuck…”

He tried to hide his face again, but your grip on his face didn’t waver, and you even gently hooked your index finger in his mouth to make sure that it stayed open. You touched him faster. It wasn’t like you could deny him such a request when he asked so nicely and he sounded so cute you thought you were going to lose your own sanity too.

“Close,” he mumbled against your finger.

As an act of encouragement to keep going, Renjun then sucked on the finger in his mouth. You knew by the way he couldn’t hold still or keep quiet that he really was on the edge already, his desperation was getting the better of him, and all thoughts seemingly left him in order to make room for the pleasure and praise you were providing.

You used the leverage of having Renjun wrapped in your arms to roll him onto his back while you continued to quicken your pace going up and down his length. Renjun didn’t even seem to notice the different position. He was so focused on cumming that his eyes were squeezed shut and his toes were curling in the sheets so that he had enough stability to buck his hips upwards into your touch. You removed your finger from his mouth before quickly leaning in to kiss him. He whined pathetically.

“Cum for me, Renjunnie.”

Just then, you used your free hand to play with his nipples under his shirt. He leaned up to kiss you as passionately as he could while grabbing onto your shoulders, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress shirt that you wore to work that day for a very important presentation you had been stressing over for the entire week. His hips stilled. He moaned your name. And you felt liquid dribbling down your hand and onto his pelvis.

Renjun slumped after the height of his orgasm passed, but he still had enough energy left in him to kiss you one more time, albeit a lot lighter and with a hint of exhaustion behind it. “Thank you…”

You kissed his cheek lovingly. Looking down at his body, you saw that he’d made a mess of his pants and shirt that he’d worn for the day, which you expected, which was why you had rolled him over so that you would only have to wash his clothes instead of having to change the sheets when you were both so tired. Renjun was already half asleep again. His eyes were shut, his breath was calm, and his limbs were limp in different corners of the bed. You giggled to yourself.

“Stay here, okay?”

He nodded vaguely.

With one more kiss just beneath his eye, you rolled out of bed to grab a wet washcloth from the bathroom which you used to wipe up some of the cum off of Renjun's skin. He hummed at the feeling of the warm water against him.

You kissed one of his exposed hip bones. “Do you want one of my shirts?”

Renjun nodded silently again.

So you went to your drawers to retrieve one of your oversized pajama t-shirts— Though, ever since you moved in together, your oversized shirts had become more Renjun's than yours since he loved wearing your clothes so much, and you had no quarrels with that, not when it made him more alluring. Along with your shirt, you picked out a pair of boxers for him to wear while sleeping. He didn’t like anything constricting while in bed. He liked to tell you that he was so over having to wear skinny jeans and tank tops on stage for the fans that he just wanted to relax whenever he was at home; You never expected him to wear or do anything he didn’t want when it was just the two of you, so you tried to help him out as much as possible.

“Sit up for me a bit, baby,” you cooed gently.

He pouted and lifted his head up, but he refused to go any further. You rolled your eyes then helped him upright so that you could take his dirtied shirt off and throw it to the side with the rag you used to clean him up.

“Arms up.”

Renjun decided that was the moment to be a brat by not cooperating. You were somewhat used to it, however, so you easily got each of his arms through the short sleeves before sliding the shirt over his head with a tired grunt, which seemed to wake Renjun up slightly because he peeked at you with one eye to check if you were alright. You comforted him with a peck on his lips. His eyes fell shut again in the midst of you laying him down and lifting his hips in order to take off his pants to replace them with the boxers.

“Better?” you inquired once he was changed.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

With an exhausted sigh following changing out of your clothes and into your own pajamas, you fell into bed, collecting Renjun in your arms once more, just as before, his back against your chest, your hands wandering his body, but this time with the intent to comfort rather than to rile. Renjun stole your right hand and kissed your knuckles. He held your hand close to his body, propping it under his chin.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You kissed his neck. “I love you too.”

Seemingly immediately, the two of them fell asleep like that, unable to escape each other’s hold, unwilling to release the other.

[ghosts-post]

Yandere Farmer with a neko hybrid darling? A neko hybrid who helps with rat/mice infestation and takes daily wanders around the farm.

Okay okay I know I said I’d be writing and posting for creep yan next but he’s taking me a little bit so have more Colton while I work!

-

I like to imagine Colton is allergic to cats, doesn’t matter if they are a full on cat or hybrid that man is going to be sneezing and rubbing his eyes constantly. But also how could he say no when you show up dirty and starving? What is he going to do turn you away? Hell no he’s scooping you up and giving you a nice warm bath and new home.

He would be content with you just taking naps around his house and the farm but the fact you are helping him around the farm by hunting down the over population of rats and mice really won his heart. Praises you for every rodent you catch but if you leave them as gifts on his doorstep or bed he’d be internally freaking out. He finds dead animals really gross. He’d be the type to thank you and act like he likes it but as soon as you walk away he’s gagging and picking it up with maximum two fingers, holding it out as far away from his body as he can and tossing it out the closest window or garbage.

He savors the few times a month he can convince you to sleep in bed with him, even if the next morning he’s waking up with puffy blood shot eyes and feels like he can barely breathe. He loves petting your ears, tail, and head but does need to wash his hands immediately after or his allergies will get worse.

He starts growing cat grass but is a little hesitant to grow cat nip, if you beg and plead for it enough however he will do it. He just takes a bit of convincing.

-

[Cat darling placing a huge dead rat at the foot of Colton’s bed as he wakes up]

Colton: AAAHHHhhhhh… I mean I love it… wow so thoughtful… thanks…

-

[Colton continuously sneezing and sniffling as he tries not to rub his eyes while the two cuddle on the couch]

Cat darling: Do you want me to move over? It’s getting really bad this time.

Colton: NO! I mean I’m fine! Stay stay I’m good!

[Colton proceeds to pull you even closer to himself]

[angelbvnny]

Nap Time

Gn!Reader, sfw

This was originally gonna be head cannons but it turned into little drabbles?

Tartaglia, Wanderer, Kaveh

Tartaglia

Naps are quite an often occurrence with you and Ajax. Being a harbinger is very demanding. He's always pushing his body past it's limits. So by the time he arrives home, he's ready to pass out. You know when the day's been a particularly hard one when your normally lively over the top boyfriend enters without a word.

He will head straight for you, sneaking up from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist, letting out a sigh of relief. This has happened enough for you to know what he needs. You turn around giving him a light kiss on the lips. "Wanna take a nap?" His tired dark eyes stare at you for a moment before nodding.

As the two of you lie down he instantly clings onto you, tightly holding you in his arms. His hands are grabbing onto the fabric of your shirt. You can see as he slowly relaxes and his shoulders loosen. A smile appears on his face before light snoring can be heard. He's out within minutes.

I hope that you got everything done before this because you'll be stuck here until he wakes up. But you can't be upset when you see the peaceful look on your boyfriends face as he cuddles you <3

Wanderer

Scara doesn't get tired easily, so naps aren't too often with him. It's usually you that wants to take one. And he always agrees to it because while he will never admit it, he will do anything you tell him to, not without complaining about it of course. But in the times he does initiate it, it's more for intimacy purposes rather than actually resting. Because it's hard to say what he wants! In fact he would consider it to be humiliating to ask you to hold him.

Speaking of being humiliated, even asking to take a nap is difficult for him. So instead he opts to follow you around the house until you get the hint. Any time you turn to him asking if he needs anything, he simply shrugs and stays silent. He does get frustrated when you don't figure it out though (even though it's basically impossible to know what he wants) so he starts to sigh. But you still don't get the hint. So then the sighs get louder, and grow longer.

So you ask him for the nth time what's wrong, and by this point he can't take it anymore and tells you "Take a nap with me." Oh. Was that all? You're relieved he's not actually upset over something. It's actually pretty cute that he went so far just to ask you to take a nap with him. So you wrap up whatever you're doing and lay down with him.

He insists on being big spoon, holding you against himself. But somehow as you are sleeping he always manages to end up being cradled in your arms by the time you wake up. Whether it's intentional or not you aren't sure, but you choose not to mention it to spare him the embarrassment, and if it is intentional, you wouldn't want him to stop. You're glad Kuni feels safe enough to be that vulnerable with you <3

Kaveh

Kaveh has absolutely no respect for his sleep schedule. More often than not he will be up the entire night working on his latest project. So by the time evening comes in the following day, he's in dire need of a nap. And you're always ready to take one with him :)

He will come home from the Akademiya, immediately searching for you. When he finds you, he will moan and groan, talking about how exhausted he is and how he simply can't do anything until he recharges with his darling! He'll put his hand on the small of your back, urging you to the bedroom. He's already quite a needy boyfriend, but when he's tired, he NEEDS you. Needs to see you, touch you, hold you. Just to be with you.

Absolutely loves being little spoon. Don't get him wrong, he loves cuddling no matter how you're doing it, but something about being held by you makes his whole body relax and mind go empty. He specifically loves laying his head against your chest. Between the warmth from your body heat and the blanket he's snuggled under, he is OUT.

If he wasn't already, he instinctively grabs onto you when he's sleeping. Holding your hand or gripping your shirt. Kaveh has a surprisingly strong grip when he's unconscious. He just wants to get closer to you. Closer and closer and closer.

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 9

Hey guys! On to part 9! I've been doing a lot of thinking on this fic and I think it's evolved into something bigger. Let me know what you guys think!

Warnings! Violence in a dream

Masterlist

Dracule leaves two days later. You send him off with a kiss and a pouch of your peppermint tea leaves and watch him sail away until he is nothing but a speck on the horizon. You shake your head, the forlorn feeling present, but you are quick to shove it down. You had things to do, so you didn't need to be standing around wondering when you would see Dracule again. 

After the incident at the cliff, Mihawk had acted as if nothing had happened, and you were content to let the promise slide. The next two days had been spent quietly reading and getting to know one another. Sweet kisses and wandering hands had invaded each one of those moments until Dracule rose this morning and deemed that he had to go. Business to attend to once again. 

You frown thinking about those words. You want to know what he means by business. You want to know what islands he goes to and who he's met. You have poured over your books and sea stained papers for years, and every single map you have come across never has your island. 

You know the shape and length and every plant and animal that shares this island with you. You and Hank have explored every nook and cranny your home has to offer, down to the sandy beach and up to the small mountain on the western side of the tropical island. And not once have you seen it labeled or drawn on any of the scrolls that wash up on the shore. 

Dracule offered you so little knowledge about himself. However, he could go on for hours about the books he's read, reciting poetry from memory as the two of you sit by the fireplace late at night. Later, he would say that he would bring you more books, either to add to your collection or to replace the old ones. 

Maybe you can convince him to bring some maps so that you can try and find out more about your home. Did you live in any of the Blues? Or was your home in the more dangerous parts of the ocean such as the Grand line and the New World? You had no idea. 

The shaggy body of Hank barreling into you sends the melancholy thoughts from your mind as the big dog pulls your focus on him. He has his stick again, and the two of you play until both of you are exhausted and in need of a good nap. 

The two of you would wake up later than you had intended in the evening and examine the seeds and other goodies that Dracule had brought with him. You had been far too distracted with the man in question to even think about going out and planting any, but now was a good time as ever. You find some empty pots and carefully press the delicate seeds into the soil that you'd gathered from your garden. Once covered, you add enough water to properly dampen the spoil and then place each of your pots on the tall barrels that sit behind your home. You smile down at your hard word, excited for when the saplings break through the soil, though that wouldn't be for a week or two at the least. 

The rest of the day was spent harvesting your other herbs, cutting and drying out the roots and leaves for brewing and leaving the rest to replant. It's satisfying work, and soon, your kitchen is full of drying herbs that make your home smell delightful. Chores done for now: You make yourself a cup of tea from the ones that Mihawk had gifted you and settle on the couch by the fireplace with one of his books. You read until you dozed off, Hank curled up on the floor snoozing away with you. 

~~~~~~~~

“Oh boy, look who decided to grace us with their presence,” Shanks crowed, a grin stretching across his face as he raised his mug of ale up in greeting. It isn't often that Mihawk would show up in a good enough mood for a drink, especially since the warlord didn't want to fight him anymore. 

Dracule rolls his eyes, a sneer on his lips as he casts his ringed eyes over the Red-Haired Pirates and their Captain. He'd seen the Red Force by chance and had decided on a whim to investigate what they were up to. In a way, it was his job to do so, so it wasn't like it was out of his way, “Only to see what you and your lot are doing here.” 

It didn't help that the Yonko had docked on an island only a four day sail away from your home. Shanks didn't hang around the first half of the Grand Line often, so it made him antsy to know that someone so powerful, even with a single arm, was so close to his safe haven. 

“The usual, partying, exploring, having a good time. Something you should definitely do more often,” Shanks tells him, vague and annoying like always. 

Dracule keeps his expression neutral. Shanks was like a shark in the water when it came to finding out things about his once close friend. It would be catastrophic if the redhead found out about you. 

“I have my own way of enjoying my time. One that doesn't involve drinking myself into a stupor every evening,” Dracule quips, but still takes the offered drink despite his words. 

Shanks slaps him on the back, laughing jovially, and Mihawk grimaces when the unexpected contact makes his drink slosh over the edge of his mug. Dracule shrugs off the offending hand with a roll of his eyes. 

“I'm sure you do, Hawkeye. Brooding away in that castle if yours. When's the last time you even spoke to a woman?” Shanks teases and knocks back the rest of his ale then signals the bar keep for a new one with a cheeky wink. 

“A couple of days ago, if you must know,” Dracule admits without thinking about it, and immediately curses himself when Shanks gasps dramatically and crowds his space. 

“What? Tell me about her! What's she like? What's her name? She must be someone special to catch your eye, Mihawk.” 

Dracule shoves the redhead back, regret coiling hot at his mishap. He takes his time by sipping his ale and ignores the manchild whining in his ear and asking questions after question that Dracule would not be answering. His patience soon wears thin, however, and he slams his mug down on the counter with a snarl.

“It is none of your business, Shanks. I never meant to say anything to you about her,” Dracule states, tone tinged in an unfamiliar rage. He doesn't get angry very often, but the thought of playboy, beachbum, Shanks even knowing your name sets his teeth on edge. 

The other pirate captain shows some tack for once in his life and raises his hand in surrender, “Alright. I won't ask anymore,” he says, but a shit eating grin is curling his lips and he leans in close to the warlord, “Ya gotta at least tell me she's a catch though, right?” 

Mihawk huffs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Shanks just couldn't stop could he? 

“As beautiful a fresh blanket of snow, but with a smile that could melt it all away,” Dracule murmurs quietly and Shanks eyes the swordsman in a new light. He had never heard the man wax poetry about someone before. 

“Huh, you must really like her then, huh?” Shanks presses and is rewarded with the sight of Dracule dipping his head in a nod. he sips his ale, thoughts swirling about this mystery woman. 

“Well. I'm glad you've finally found someone that'll put up with your broody ass,” Shanks snickers and slaps Mihawk on the back once more with a big grin. Truly, he was happy that his friend had someone to escape to, especially when their world grew more dangerous every day. 

Mihawk is quiet for a long time, long enough that he has finished his ale and stands from his stool. He tosses enough berri on the counter to cover his drink, and then turns away from Shanks, “Thank you, Red Hair,” he begins and sends the Yonko a look over his shoulder, eyes holding The threat of a fight, “Don't make me regret telling you.” 

Shanks laughs with a shake of his head and waves at Dracule, “I'll try not to, Hawkeye,” he snickers again at the glare that receives for that, but it was definitely worth it. 

Mihawk leaves the island without bothering to learn its name and sets sail for Gloom. He filled the boring trip with thoughts of you, recalling how nicely your cool skin felt upon his heated body. How much he enjoyed listening to you read from the books he's already devoured countless times. How sweet your lips taste when you kiss him so innocently. 

Dracule is not sure when he will go back, but his hands already itch to feel your soft skin, and he is parched for the sweet peppermint tea you grow. The warlord sighs, a great expel of air from his lungs, and looks north to the calm belt, where your island stays protected at its edge. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

The screams of the men and children of your home island echo in your ears as you are dragged through the crowds of people. Your older brother holds you tight by the wrist, pulling you through the throngs of citizens. Your short legs can hardly keep up, but you power through the fatigue to keep up with your brother. 

Your island, your home is being attacked, and you are terrified. You don't understand why it's happening, only know that your oldest brother had woken you up in the middle of the night and packed your largest bag with the essentials. He had instructed you to be silent as the two of you snuck through the castle, away from your mother and father and other siblings that still slept in peace. 

You yelped when you suddenly tripped over a loose brick in the road, sending you to your knees and snow exploded around you and your brother, causing screams to erupt all around. You wince and push yourself up, desperately scrambling for your older brother. 

Gods, you wish you could remember his name. 

“Come on, princess,” He is suddenly there, swinging you up and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, “We're almost to the port.” 

You watch from your perch as the people of your island run for the castle, panic and fear all around as the town burns and the fields are decimated by someone with an earth devil fruit. Your brother runs as fast as he can to the port, trying to shield his baby sister from the harsh realities of a treaty gone wrong and a dark secret revealed. 

The two of you make it to Port just in time to witness the biggest ship you have ever seen crash into the main docks. The pirates don't seem to care about the destruction they have caused, and you watch in horror, eyes latching onto the symbol that the barbarians proudly wear. It's a bright pink cloud, a skull with bug red lips and with a sun and a tree on opposite corners. 

The sight is broken when your brother rounds a corner, and you grunt when he slides to a sudden stop. You try to turn around and are able to catch sight of a wide brimmed hat with a massive white feather falling from the back. A giant sword rests on the man's back, the hilt oddly shaped like a cross.

“Don't look, Sunshine,” your brother orders, but you don't listen. You can't listen to him. Not when that hat and sword look so familiar. But from where? 

You are still thinking about the strange looking man when the two of you finally make it to the escape ship. Your brother loads you up, and with one last forlorn look at your dying island, he sets sail for Paradise, away from the New World, where his precious little sister would be safe. 

You wake slowly, the dream trickling away like grains of sand in an hourglass. It felt familiar, and your heart ached at the sight of the man who had saved you. With a sigh, you pull yourself up from the couch and give Hank a smile. It was time to start the day. 

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz

[moonbyunniee]

put your head on my shoulder

characters ➵ kaveh, diluc, ayato, wanderer, thoma, gorou, tighnari, cyno, childe, kaeya, venti, heizou, xiao, zhongli, kazuha, albedo, itto, bennett, xingqiu, chongyun

synopsis ➵ your tired head falls on the stranger's shoulder on the train to work...

a/n ➵ hello again everyone! i haven't been posting any writing in almost four whole months!! i hope you missed me heheh :)) also, i hope it wouldn't be too much to ask for a reblog from your end? it really helps a small blog like mine :D love you all <33

he'd been minding his own business on the train to work, lost in thought about something or the other, when a warm feeling on his right shoulder had broken his train of thought. he'd looked over, and...well, he'd seen...you. he hesitates, glancing at your sleeping body resting on his shoulder. it's not as though he can't bear your weight on him, it's just...the touch is unfamiliar, something he's not used to, something he hasn't felt in what feels like an eternity. he sighs softly as you stir, not knowing whether he should wake you up or let you be. Well...it wouldn't hurt to be accommodating, now, would it?

xiao, zhongli, kazuha, albedo, ayato, diluc

a frown, or a scowl of some sort, is this man's reaction to most everything that happens to him, and he isn't giving this situation a free pass. the second he feels his neighbor seatmate's head drop onto his shoulder, he strikes his signature scowl. curse you for having the audacity to sleep on public transport anyway...why couldn't you just sleep at home? as he turns to shove you off his shoulder, though, he suddenly pauses, seeing your innocent, tired face. he curses himself internally for being so uncharacteristically soft today, but nevertheless changes his mind about shoving you off his shoulder. he'll just tell you to bring an actual pillow next time you choose to sleep on public transport. for now, he automatically stiffens himself, and prepares to lend you his shoulder until he gets to work. but this is only a one-time thing, of course...unless...

kaveh, wanderer

he blinks as he feels your head drop onto his shoulder. he already knows who you are - the tired-looking passenger who always, coincidentally, ends up sitting next to him. still, though, it's not like he knows you at all. he just pays attention to his surroundings better than most. so he finds it as almost second nature to shift himself a little, so you can be comfortable. sure enough, you unconsciously nuzzle your head into the crook between his shoulder and neck, your hair tickling his neck ever so slightly. he smiles softly, before yawning a little himself and resting his head on yours. maybe, he thinks, i could ask for their number when they wake up? just for their haircare products, nothing else...right?

childe, kaeya, venti, heizou, thoma

it takes him quite some time to process what's happening. head...pretty person...my shoulder? then it all comes to him in a tidal wave, and he gasps. ask anyone around the two of you what he acted like, and they'd likely respond with, "just like a high school boy finding his sweetheart!" he immediately went all red, his blush spanning from the back of his neck to his nose. as nearby passengers send him curious glances, he stammers and tries to clarify the situation - a fruitless attempt, really, as it seems he can't even manage to get a single word out. if only you were awake to see the impact your mere touch had on this man...he does, though, eventually calm down enough to let you have a good, undisturbed nap.

gorou, tighnari, cyno, itto, bennett, xingqiu, chongyun

taglist ➵ @melshome @pearlygraysky @whipped-for-fictionals @genshinparty @cosmicgeohoe

send an ask to be added to my taglist!!

[mlmxreader]

Payment | Kenshi Takahashi x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ “Show me your heart” and “You’re sublime, you’re amazing” with Kenshi. ❞

: ̗̀➛ you and Kenshi get to spend a little time together at home.

: ̗̀➛ light innuendo, a little jealousy

•─────────────────★•♛•★────────────────•

Kenshi was sitting on your sofa, listening to some videos on his phone while you sat nearby watching the television; it was nice when there were moments like that.

Just the two of you and no pressure to constantly talk or to spend every waking minute doing something together; it was more than enough to just exist in the same room, to just be in the same room without talking and without actually interacting.

You were both keen on such a thing, and it wasn’t uncommon either; sometimes, Kenshi would be cleaning and sharpening Sento while you were taking a nap and he thought, for the first time in too long, that he was actually content with one thing in life.

When you stretched, the fabric squeaked, and Kenshi turned his head in your general direction as he hummed softly, pausing the video on his phone.

He listened carefully for a moment, but then decided to get up and to head over to you; gently, he laid his head on your thigh and grumbled under his breath as he licked his lips.

With the evening slowly trickling by, it was getting a little colder, and Kenshi could feel the warmth radiating from your stomach and thighs as he hummed and snuggled in a little closer.

“I don’t wanna go to Cage’s party tomorrow,” he admitted softly, his voice just soft enough that it was nearly a whisper. “I really don’t.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh softly as you shook your head. “Now, is that because you’re worried he’ll embarrass you again, or are you worried that he’ll flirt with me again?”

Kenshi sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he sighed heavily; he wasn’t keen on admitting it, but it was a little of both.

Sure, he loved Johnny - he was his best friend, after all - but that didn’t mean that he liked it when Johnny paraded him around and proudly announced to everyone that they were best friends.

It especially didn’t mean that he was keen on it when Johnny shamelessly flirted with you, even if he knew full well that it was little more than Johnny being Johnny and meant absolutely nothing.

But he still wasn’t keen. 

“Can’t it be both?”

“Trust me,” your hand went to his hair by natural instinct, playing with the freshly washed black strands gently, softly. Each touch feather light. “It’ll be worth going to - you never know, the afterparty might actually be fun.”

“Two hours of Johnny parading me around to his Hollywood friends,” Kenshi huffed. “Sounds great.”

“He’s just proud you’re his friend,” you laughed, the sounds vibrating through him and making him attempt to snuggle into you further. “I mean, I would be, too.”

“Hm?”

“Well, you’re strong,” you started, “handsome, resilient, funny, charming… you’re good with your hands, you’re skilled, determined… who wouldn’t be proud to know you? I mean, Kenshi, c’mon - you’re sublime, you’re amazing.”

Kenshi smiled to himself, biting down on his bottom lip as he did his best not to grin; his face felt hot, he could feel the tips of his ears burning as he shook his head fondly and turned over, his hand wandering up your body but stopping just below your chest.

“Do me a favour?”

“Of course.”

“Show me your heart,” he said quietly, and when you guided his hand to your chest, he could feel it beating.

Soft and gentle. Sturdy and stable. You were telling the truth as far as he could guess, and it only made him smile a little more as he nodded slowly. 

“That good enough for you, Takahashi?” You asked softly, holding his hand firmly against your chest. 

He hummed. “Thank you.”

“So we’ll go?” You asked, waiting for him to nod before you breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. “It’ll only be for a few hours - plus, you get me all to yourself in a dark, private cinema where no one can see what your hands are doing.”

Now that, Kenshi had to admit, sounded more than promising; he couldn’t deny it, being all alone with you in the back row, the cinema dark but the film nice and loud so could actually hear anything, let alone see where his mouth was.

Oh, it all sounded far too promising.

He supposed he could ask Jax to go along as well to keep Johnny away from you and him for a little while - even if only for the duration of the film. Johnny adored Jax, it would have worked easily.

Grumbling softly, Kenshi pushed himself up, putting his arm around your shoulders as he stretched and sighed. Coming around to the idea of going tomorrow although not too eagerly; he loved Johnny, but Johnny was… well, he was a lot to deal with.

He ran a hand through his hair, and hummed as he dared to learn his head against yours. Taking a moment to listen to your gentle breathing, the soft puffs of air coming through your nose.

He felt his shoulders drop whatever tension they had been holding, and he could feel himself start to drop off slightly.

“You owe me,” he told you quietly, trying to bite back a yawn but only partially succeeding. 

You shifted around so that he was on top of you, your hands on his shoulders as you spread your legs to accommodate him between them. “How would you like payment?”

Kenshi smiled, licking his lips as he brought his hand down to your chest, splaying his fingers and listening to your heartbeat. Steady, stable. “One kiss now, one later, and one in the morning.”

You grinned, reaching up and grabbing the back of his neck gently so you could pull him down, your lips almost against his; the feeling of his breath on your face making you laugh softly with how it gently tickled, a warm sensation coursing throughout your body.

“I think I can afford that - would you like one in the evening as well, as interest?”

[hanluex]

♡ I'M ALL YOURS — JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

jake seresin x reader | wc : 0.9k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, established relationship au, mentions of nicknames (babe, honey, etc), just soft domestic jake fluff

"hush and go back to sleep."

jake spoke softly, smiling to himself as you whined about his absence.

"how could you leave without waking me? do you know how scared i was when i woke up?!" you scolded your boyfriend over the phone, grumbling as he tried to convince you to sleep.

"i had an early morning training, and you have a day off. why would i deprive you of sleep — which you need desperately — and wake you up? to tell you i'm going for some training?" jake didn't see the logic. 

you only wanted to be informed of his disappearance. but instead you wake up and panic.

"i thought aliens abducted you, jake!"

"aliens don't exist, y/n."

you huffed, knowing deep down that he was right. "fine, come back soon, okay? i'll work on some projects now, but if i feel sleepy, i'll take a nap," you stated, giving jake the assurance he wanted.

"alright, that's good enough for me. see you soon, babe. i love you."

"i love you more, bye."

the time was 5:17am. you took a deep breath, relaxing your mind before you did your morning routine and changed into a casual outfit. 

as you wandered around your room in your underwear, you thought about your to-do list. you soon realised you had around three marketing projects to finish in a few days.

the last time i did my project, i wore jake's hoodie. i finished it in record time and received good comments about it. usually, you are not that superstitious, but these three projects were major ones, and you would risk nothing.

you found jake's hoodie and wore it with some shorts, giggling to yourself at the instant comfort you felt. you trudged to the kitchen, making a quick breakfast of some cereal before getting started with your day.

you didn't know how long you sat at your desk, barely touching your cereal bowl after eating five spoonfuls. you were believing in superstitions as you were quickly finishing each project, and unlike the other times, you were actually pretty satisfied and proud of your work.

"thank you, hangboy," you murmured to yourself as you looked down at the hoodie, feeling content you could quickly finish your projects.

it was around 9am when the front door opened, with jake letting himself in. thinking you might be sleeping, he quietly closed the door, smiling when your pet dog, mickey, came running to greet him.

jake took mickey into his arms, making his way to your shared room. he rolled his eyes to himself when he heard the aggressive typing on the keyboard coming from the room.

"honey, i'm home!" jake jokingly greeted, surprised when he saw you push away your chair, scrambling to get up from your seat. "woah, woah. easy there."

"jakey!" you squealed, running to hug the male, already missing him even though he was gone for only four hours. "hello to you too, mickey." you nuzzled your nose against your pet, looking up when your boyfriend laughed at your cuteness.

"what have you been up to?" he asked, slowly letting down the dog before you grabbed his hand, pulling him towards your laptop.

you went through the presentation speedily, explaining the points as briefly as you could. "it's going to be great this time as well, don't you think?" you inquired, eyes still on your laptop as you admired your work.

"of course, babe. it's going to be ..." he trailed off, furrowing his brows as he noticed your outfit. is that my ... hoodie? "... amazing. you've got this," he continued, blinking multiple times before he looked up, meeting your eyes.

"is it because of your hoodie?" you asked, feeling shy as jake kept scanning you repeatedly, unable to believe you were wearing his clothes. "i just ... last time i wore it when i did my presentation, i got good comments on it, so ... i didn't want to take any chances."

jake found you absolutely adorable. he had a small smile on his face as he listened to your explanation — even though he didn't ask for one.

"i'm sorry, i'll go change now!" you quickly spoke, not noticing the endearing smile your boyfriend had. you pulled away, only to be pulled back, your face hitting his chest.

"now, who said you had to change? i'm totally fine with you wearing my clothes, babe. it makes me happy because you are comfortable to wear them." jake wrapped his arms around your waist, still smiling like an idiot.

"you are totally fine with it?"

"of course. and if it helps to do your work faster and get better results, then it's even better! i will lend you more sweatshirts and hoodies."

you giddily smiled, hugging your boyfriend tightly as you placed a kiss on his cheeks. "you are the best, bagman! i will hold you to your offer, because the workload is only going to increase from now on." you sighed, rolling your eyes as you thought about the hectic schedule you had.

"yes, i promise to give you whatever you need." jake played with your hair as he looked at you. "after all, what's yours is mine, and what's mine is yours."

you couldn't help but smirk at his words, standing on your toes as jake looked at you skeptically. "then i guess these are mine, too." you placed a chaste kiss on his lips, slightly startled when he pulled you closer.

"i'm all yours, y/n."

TAGLIST: SEND AN ASK OR DM TO BE ADDED!

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Any more Delta headcanons? Especially angsty ones 🙏🙏🙏

Hmm..let’s see.

Once Color leaves their shared apartment, Delta often finds himself just..sitting alone in a messy apartment.

Color always had a tendency to clean up after Delta, because Delta frequently forgets to clean up and can tolerate most mess—Delta often lives in organized chaos. Everything has its place.

But sometimes Delta forgets to put things in their place, says he will but forgets, so Color just often did it for him.

I think Delta will eventually struggle to adjust to the changes in his life, with Color away with Killer and Epic away with Cross. He’d worry if this means he’s being left behind, or if their trio is starting to grow distant.

He’d often wonder the place, finding pieces left behind that point to a once lived in place, wandering around as if he know longer recognizes his home. Or as if the home doesn’t welcome him anymore.

Color’s old photos and journals left in boxes, his books and cameras. A reassuring sight, because it means that maybe Color will be back eventually. One of his jackets, a pair of Epic’s gloves, and maybe Delta will decide to wear them; to feel like they’re still here.

Beta’s drawings are still pinned to their tiny, busted up fridge; a drawing of them holding hands with Color and Epic, a tiny little drawing of Delta himself off to the side with an arrow pointed at him that reads “poopy head :(“. It gains a little chuckle from Delta.

I can Beta’s sadness that they don’t get see Color or Epic as much anymore blending into Sans, the two of them having to struggle to separate their blurry identities into distinct halves.

They start frequently losing time, forgetting to eat or shower, and are often plagued by nightmares (memories) of being trapped in a glass jar, frantically screaming and banging on the glass to try and gain dream Color & Epic’s attention. But they never hear the screams, and never think to look.

Sometimes they picture Color and Epic dying instead, either at the hands of a human or at their own hands; because Color and Epic were trying to capture them, and they had no choice but to fight back.

Beta and Sans’ memories mixing up in their nightmares, Color and Epic now taking the place of the actual people that were in these memories.

They often walk around in a daze most days, avoiding mirrors more than ever and struggling to tell what is and isn’t real.

Maybe this is even around the time and the main reason why Color recommends they get therapy, and perhaps Epic is the one who suggests a service dog.

Maybe the two planned a little surprise to come visit Sans and Beta one day, because they realized its been too long and they did miss their friends, but they weren’t expecting to come back to a trashed house and a dirty, starving, dissociated Delta.

And so while Epic goes to make them something to eat and drink, Color sets about cleaning up the house. It takes a bit of encouragement and help from Epic and Color to ground them back to the present and feed themselves, because they keep getting confused and forgetting what they were doing.

Once they eat all they can manage, Epic and Color then go about setting up a bath for them; maybe they even help them bathe themselves and get dressed into something cleaner and more comfortable.

After that it’s time for a cuddle session and a nap, all four them. Sans and Beta are beyond confused when they wake up in the middle of the night to Color and Epic cuddling them on both sides and squeezing them tightly.

They’re warm, clean, comfortable and safe; but confused, because they assumed yesterday was a dream. They’re relieved to find it’s not, however, lying back down to bask in the warmth of their friends.

The four of them have a lot to discuss in the morning, Zorox will be coming into their lives soon as well, but that’s for in the morning.

I also like to headcanon that Delta is the one who makes all of Color’s cameras and also the laptop he’d need to edit all his photos. Anyone else have any headcanons?

[shawnxstyles]

So happy you listed your boundaries. Some writes don't and they get mad when you request when you have no clue :( Request Please: Tom girl catches him napping naked and she loves his ass and eats it till he cums.

sunday morning

warnings: smut; (m- receiving [somnophobia {this is technically dub-con} soft ass biting/fingering {barely}, ass being ate!! 😜, slight dirty talk], and a bit of fluff

note: i don’t know how to feel about this! 😃

—

you step out of the shower, grabbing the nearest towel. you felt calm as you dabbed away the moisture and slipped into lounge clothes.

the house was quiet and peaceful: it was the perfect sunday morning.

you woke up early and went on a jog. usually, you went with tom if he had to go to work early, but today he had the day off. you let him sleep in, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he smiles lazily unconscious.

you also did a bit of food and clothes shopping. you enjoyed your own time, wandering around the aisles and clothing racks wondering what you felt like. in a way, it was comforting and relaxing, and a type of self-care that could only be done by yourself.

but of course, nothing topped being with tom. he was the light in your life, he made everything greater than it ever had been. just thinking about him made you go home.

once you showered and dressed, you waltzed into your shared bedroom. tom’s figure was half covered by the thick duvet, his bare back visible to you. you smiled adoringly at the view, walking towards him and slipping into the bed. lifting the covers, your eyebrows raise cheekily at the full view (literally). tom slept naked, body muscular and relaxed.

your hands craved to run your nails along his back, scratching him lovingly. his bare bottom looked as soft as ever and you instinctively had the urge to bite it.

folding over the duvet, you place your hands on his buff shoulders, massaging softly. your lips peck small kisses along his spine, skin warm and smooth as you make your way down. you feel his body calmly rise up and down with every balanced breath.

when you reach his tailbone, your fingers massage his hips while your thumbs rub over his butt cheeks. a satisfied hum vibrates through tom’s body as you begin to widen his ass. your lips trace gentle kisses on his rear until you softly bite on the thick skin. you lick away any pain and do it a few more times. he shifts, but doesn’t wake up.

soon, his cheeks are completely spread and you slide your tongue in between them. your warm muscle licks around his tight hole, lubricating it with your saliva. he softly gasps, awakening from his sleep.

“baby,” he sighs, voice raspy and crackling. his sound makes you moan, a soft electricity shooting up his spine.

your tongue finally slots into his hole, causing him to clench from the unfamiliar feeling. he sighs again, gravelly as he lets you eat him out. you twist and twirl your muscle as your hands knead the soft skin of his rear. your nose pokes at him as his muscles tense and quiver from the pleasure.

“fuck, y/n,” he moans, breathing no longer calm. the rising and falling of his abdomen gets more unsteady as you move your tongue brisker and deeper in his hole.

he clutches around you and shoots his hand to his rock hard cock. he uses his own pre-cum to stroke himself, helping him get to his release.

his thighs squeeze when your tongue twists with a brutal pace as his high approaches him. he screws his eyes shut and sloppily rubs up and down his twitching cock.

you plop your mouth off of his tense hole and dip your thumb slightly inside.

“are you going to come, tommy?” your eyelashes blink innocently as you see bliss cascade over his features.

his stomach clenches and balls tighten as the white liquid spurts from the head of his cock. rubbing his hole, you bend over and lick away all of his orgasm, cleaning him up. he jerks subtly, sensitive at the tip. you stare up at him, a weary, endearing smile curling up his face.

“how was that, baby?”

“it was… surprising good, darling,” he chuckles as you crawl up his naked body.

he lays on his back as you rest on his chest. you smile happily as your ear feels every beat of his heart.

“you know,” he starts, “i’m feeling a bit hungry.”

“and what would you like to eat, my love?” you rest your chin on the top of your hand as you face up at him. with a smug smile, he gently swipes the hair from your face.

“i’ve got something in mind.”

—

tags: @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @raajali3

[runninriot]

...✍️

When he comes home, Steve is exhausted. The rest of the shooting, the official shooting, went well but he can feel every part of his body already aching from being overused. It’s going to be hell tomorrow.

Steve enters the living room where Eddie greets him with a smile before he presses a finger to his lips, pointing at a curled up Robin lying next to him on the couch taking a nap.

Slowly, Eddie moves to stand up from the sofa and tiptoes over to where Steve is still standing in the door frame.

   “Hey, baby.”

They share a quick kiss before Eddie takes Steve’s hand and quietly drags him into his bedroom.

   “How was your shooting? Hope it was worth your time and the tragic loss of your precious chest hair,” Eddie laughs.

For the past two and a half days he didn’t waste any opportunity to remind Steve of his crime.

Steve scoffs and bites his bottom lip not to spill the secret he’ll have to keep to himself for a few more days. Until he can finally show Eddie the result of what he’s been up to behind his back.

   “Yeah it was alright, I think we got what we wanted. The pictures turned out great.”

    Better than great.

   “You hungry? Robs and I had sandwiches for lunch. I could make you one if you want?”

Steve leans in to steal another kiss from Eddie.

   “Mhm. I’d love that. I can’t feel my arms and legs anymore.”

   “Oh, my poor baby. I’m sure I can help you  with that later. Give you a nice massage.”

Eddie lets his teeth graze the sharp edge of Steve’s jaw, drags them further, nibbling at the soft flesh of his earlobe. It makes Steve shiver and melt into the arms that are wrapped around his shoulders, hands soothingly rubbing up and down his back.

   “Ah, god, I’d like that. Your big, strong hands on my body, your thumbs pressing into my sore muscles. Fuck. I think I‘ll skip the sandwich if-“

   “Oh no, baby doll. You’re gonna be a good boy and let me feed you before I’ll take care of the rest of you.”

And how could Steve say no to that?

Still, he devours the sandwich in record time, smiles innocently at Eddie who laughs when Steve presents him his empty plate.

   “Good boy. Now, have a big glass of water while I’ll get the spa area ready,” Eddie winks and wanders off back into the bedroom.

Steve gulps down his drink so fast some of it goes down the wrong pipe, causing him to cough loudly. That, unfortunately wakes up Robin, who stalks sleepily out of the living room and into the kitchen.

   “Oh, you’re back. How’d it go? Where’s Eddie?”

   “I’ll tell you about the shooting later. Or you can just ask your talented girlfriend whom you overshare any and all things with anyway,” Steve laughs, “And, Eddie’s waiting for me in the bedroom, sooo-“

Robin’s eyes go wide in an instant.

  “Ugh, really? Come on! While I’m home?? Didn’t I have to hear enough grunting coming out of your bedroom to scar me for a lifetime?” She rolls her eyes but the grin on her face tells Steve she’s only joking and not really offended.

   “Shut up! He’s just gonna give me a massage because my arms and legs hurt like shit. We’ll be back out before you know and then we can watch a movie together or something.”

   “Yeah right, ‘just a massage’. Tell you what, I’m gonna go for a walk. And maybe stop by the grocery store since it’s my turn to do the shopping anyway. We’re having pasta tonight. You’re cooking. As compensation for having to flee my own home because of my sex-addicted friends. You have one hour.”

With that she turns heel, gets a bag and her coat and is out of the door, leaving Steve too stunned to react other than burst out laughing so loud it alarms Eddie in the other room.

   “Babe? What’s taking you so long? Come on, we ain’t got all day!”

    Yeah, we got an hour.

[corvidcrybaby]

Say, after reading your last commentary on Integra, now I need your POV on something I've been wondering.

What do you think will happen to Hellsing once Integra dies? To Alucard and Seras? Integra has expressed no interest in having children, and since she wants to avoid becoming a vampire, we know she won't be alive forever. Does she have a plan for that?

Hi! Omg so sorry to take so long to get to answering this, life has been insane on my end.

To answer your question, I'd wager there's a plan in place. Whether it pans out according to Integra's expectations or not is what remains to be seen. Integra mentions that the Organization will be passed over to the general military once she passes, and the Crown will thus assume direct control of the agency and its vampires. I'm willing to bet good money that the sigils that bind Alucard and Seras could potentially be transferred. If they are, then they'll keep up their job as the UK's resident vampire pest control until something extreme happens to break that bond of servitude. The nature of these sigils is unfortunately never explored fully, nor how they work, which leaves us with naught but speculation. However, this is my educated guess at how they probably work.

On the other hand, let's entertain the more interesting prospect of if those sigils are less malleable than we think, and it becomes impossible to bend Alucard and Seras to the will of someone else. From there? If the British military effectively has to try to keep these two under control through... What, good will? Threat of force? Both ideas are ultimately laughable. If that is the case, then I think Alucard is going to assess the inheritor's character and convictions. If he finds Integra's replacement to be unworthy, and there are no magic spells forcing him to play nice, then I think he probably peaces out to take a nice long nap. I think he probably goes into hibernation after Integra's passing - which, mind you, I think he'll be destitute following. It would be hard to read from him, but he holds Integra in high esteem, and went out of his way to return to her after Schroödinger-gate. That shows a high degree of loyalty, and I think Alucard would be laying low for a minute. After he wakes up, however, is when I suspect he might piss off into the unknown, wandering around the world - perhaps in search of interesting people to meddle with the lives of, secretly hoping he'll find the next Anderson, the next Integra, et cetera. I suspect he'll probably go right back to eating people, though. I'd put money on him perhaps being a bit more Punisher-esque on the humans he kills for food than before, since he has hinted at the idea of humans rubbing off on him in the series before. So less the kind of guy who devours the most innocent and defenseless people imaginable, and more likely he interferes with mortal affairs that he can justify to himself are morally bankrupt so he has a steady supply of enemies to destroy and humans to feed on. I don't see him turning all of England into a necrotizing wasteland with him at the head. I think that would beneath his interest by now. I think harassing and stalking people he deems unique or entertaining would occupy much of his time post-hibernation.

Seras, however, is interesting. I suspect Seras would stick around at Hellsing of her own volition, and would continue aiding Britain in its cause to protect people and slay undead monsters. That's what she became the person she is while doing, and I think with or without Alucard, she'll keep on generally being a goody two-shoes. But I think even she would grow weary of it eventually. With Integra gone, I think it becomes less and less like the home Seras "grew up" in - and if the new commanders are inept, then I think eventually Seras would reach a breaking point where she too, might go rogue. She might tag along with Alucard for a while, and I'd wager they keep regular contact and check in with one another on a semi-frequent basis (which, for vampires, might mean catching up once a decade or some shit). Seras is her own independent person, especially after accepting her vampirism and drinking blood to become autonomous as Alucard always urged her to be. But just as that's true, I feel their relationship was always one of Seras, despite everything, wanting to remain by Alucard's side. Their relationship would no doubt shift, and I suspect they might grow more reserved with one another, but I think they might find a new kind of emotional intimacy with one another - not romantic (I like Aluseras from time to time but this is my baseline read), to be clear, but I think Seras has the vampire equivalent of her late-twenties-development after Teggy passes. And from there? Anybody's game, but I think she keeps on bumping off rogue vampires - although I think with time, it might become more territorial than altruistic in how she carries herself. Less general heroics talk and more like, a vigilante warden type of dealio. She might come to see Britain as HER TERRITORY which would spell doom for any foreign vampires thinking they can feed on "her" humans. I think time as a vampire makes everybody go a little dark, but this is still pretty tame. It's Seras, after all. She'll flay you to ribbons but only if you really, REALLY press her.

Thanks so much for the ask!!!

[sincerely-sofie]

I’d always love to see any more scraps of dadnoir content sofie🥺👉🏻👈🏻drawn or written, idc, and any concept would do—but maybe him sitting down and helping Twig’s learning to read or him ending up ironically being the person she goes to when she’s emotionally overwhelmed and needs to sit in companionable silence for a while without pressure to talk about it? Maybe eventually she gets comfortable enough with him to accidentally nap in the curve of his arm agains this side and Grovyle or Ark happens upon them and he just gives them this deathly look like “don’t you dare wake her but also never breathe a word of this to anyone”…idk I just have so many feelings for how you portray them🥹

Bone app the teeth!

Twig wasn't one who found it easy to stomach silence— Dusknoir knew this all too well. He couldn't put a number to all the times a conversation would begin to lull and Twig would pipe up with some additional comment to prolong it. In the discussions he'd have with Twig where he tried to help her work through her struggles, a surefire way to have her speak what was really on her mind was to go quiet and allow her to fill the silence herself. He didn't know why she hated moments of quiet so deeply, but it was a noticeable quirk of hers. 

She and Darkrai stopped by the home he shared with Grovyle and Celebi to pay a visit, and it was immediately obvious upon their arrival that the woman was exhausted. She didn't look physically tired— not more than was typical for her, at least— but something clearly wore on her as she smiled and made pleasant conversation. He would have liked to offer her a listening ear, and even though the tangible fragility of her happy front warded him off from offering it directly, he hoped that she would catch on to his unspoken invitation when he excused himself from the conversation to sit in the garden. 

Thankfully, just a few minutes later, he heard the back door creak open, then click shut, and Twig came into view as she stepped into the garden. 

Dusknoir was seated on a bench that stood in the furthest corner of the raised beds and trellises. Twig wordlessly sat down beside him, tail burning low with nervous, pink flame.

“Would you like to speak on what's troubling you?” He asked. 

“Not really,” she answered. 

He hummed. “Alright.”

Silence fell. Dusknoir allowed it. To his surprise, Twig didn't rush to fill the space with nervous chatter. She just sat still beside him, slumped against the back of the bench, tail curled around her feet as she tucked her legs against her chest, watching the plants in the garden sway back and forth in the gentle breeze. For the first time in his entire time knowing her, Twig seemed grateful for the quiet. She closed her eyes and sighed, and he could nearly hear the world fall from her shoulders as she let out that breath. 

Time passed in continued, silent company. Dusknoir found himself lost in the peaceful scenery, letting his mind wander. He considered his plans for the next day, what recipes he could adjust and with what ingredients… He didn't notice Twig's gradual shift to lean against him until her tail changed hues to a peach-toned flame and drew his eye, confused. 

Oh. She'd fallen asleep. 

A memory shot through him like a lightning bolt— the first night Twig had fallen asleep around him, and how it was a complete accident on her part. She had refused to sleep for days on end after he, Grovyle, and Celebi arrived in her era because she didn't trust him not to harm them, instead keeping a constant watch over her friends until she couldn't stay awake any longer. That had been years ago— the foundation of the hazy truce now between them only being laid when Twig jolted awake the following morning to find her patchwork family still alive and well. She might have overcome her wariness of sleeping around him after that, but she certainly hadn't ever felt so comfortable as to fall asleep at his side. 

Warily, he shifted to put his arm around her to help hide her from the growing chill when the breeze picked up. The pink tint to her tail’s flame gave way to a content, golden orange. He let out a quiet laugh at that, disbelieving and honored in equal parts. 

Some time later, Darkrai exited the house, casting confused glances around and no doubt looking for where Twig had disappeared to for the past hour. The predictable anxiety he developed when away from her was something Dusknoir could place winning bets on. Raising a hand and waving to catch his attention, Dusknoir jerked his head to indicate where Twig was slumped against his side when he approached. Darkrai stopped short at that, impassible expression twitching in some half-formed flicker of emotion, and gave Dusknoir a brief nod. He then turned back to the house, disappearing from view. 

They didn't see eye-to-eye on much. Dusknoir was grateful they could find some common ground when it came to Twig's deplorable sleeping habits. Regrettably, she woke herself up not long after that with a particularly sharp snore, but the point still stood.

[thotsofintrusion]

i’ve been sick these past few days so here’s a bit based off of that

warning: noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!), overall this is pretty soft

bf!minhee who comes home to you laid out in bed, covers half off your body and your shirt pushed up under your chest, shorts having risen to meet the junction of your legs and torso. there’s an open tissue box next to you, cold medicine on the bedside table, and netflix open on your laptop, paused on the are you still watching screen. minhee feels your forehead and finds that you’re quite warm, but not so warm that he’s worried. he goes about cleaning up around you, collecting any used tissues he finds and moving your laptop elsewhere. when he goes to cover you up, minhee once again takes a look at your body, and can’t help his thoughts wandering.

with your shirt and shorts pushed up he can see the bruises he left the last time he had you, and he wonders when he’ll be able to make more. you shiver, and minhee is reminded of the way you tremble when you cum under him and shake when he teases you. he unconsciously begins to rub his hands up and down your thighs, and he can feel you relax underneath him. you turn to face away from him, and minhee is greeted by the sight of your shorts having ridden up so high that the lower half of your ass cheeks are exposed, as well as the edge of the hand print he left just under a week ago.

seeing your ass only serves to rile minhee up further and before he can stop himself he’s grabbing your ass and giving it a harsh squeeze over your shorts, causing you to let out a quiet whimper that goes straight to his cock. minhee is lost on what to do; he knows this problem won’t go away on its own any time soon but he hates getting off using his hand or a fleshlight, but he would also hate to wake you when you’re sick. but he has to do something.

then he remembers a conversation the two of you had just a few weeks ago. minhee had been asking if there was anything you’d like to try in bed and after thinking for a bit you said somnophilia. at the time, minhee had no idea what that was but, after you explained it to him and discussed it a bit more, he said he’d think about it and get back to you. since that conversation, minhee had been true to his word and thought about it, but he couldn’t decide if he wanted that or not.

until now.

seeing you like this - weak, vulnerable, exposed - minhee couldn’t help but want to take what he needed from you, regardless of what you would think about it. so he decides, he will. he opens his pants and pulls them and his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring out. he moves you onto your stomach and pulls your shorts aside, rubbing at your clit while he strokes his cock, getting the two of you ready. once he’s at full mast, minhee leans over to the top bedside drawer and pulls out the lube. you haven’t gotten quite as wet as he’d like, but he doesn’t want to wait any longer, so he lubes his cock and your hole, slipping a finger in to spread it around a bit. and when you’re nice and slick, he starts.

minhee places the head of his cock at your hole, and slowly pushes in, feeling your cunt stretch to accommodate him, and himself relaxing into you, just a little. he stays there for a moment, reveling in the feeling of your walls around him. he whispers a soft “i missed you” into your ear and kisses your temple before beginning to thrust slowly into your heat. he doesn’t want to wake you, so minhee keeps his pace slow and soft, despite every inch of his being telling him to speed up and take what he wants.

but what he really wants is for you to be healthy. sure at the moment he wants to get off, but in the long run he’d rather torture himself with slow thrusts than wake you up from your well deserved nap and possibly delay your healing. so he doesn’t speed up. he doesn’t go any harder. and it doesn’t matter. because even though the stimulation was slow moving and soft, and he was missing your pussy clenching around him, it still works. after quite a few minutes of thrusting slowly and leaving light kisses on the back of your neck, minhee cums into your unprotected hole. it’s nothing big, no more than a few harsh breaths leaving his mouth, but it’s enough to satisfy him for the time being. and so after ensuring that his load has filled you up nicely, he pulls out and moves your shorts back over your cunt, covering you with the blankets and leaving to order some soup for you.