#this is the lovely meadow nearby my house!

[itsautomaticfaegirl]

How I long for those gentle Spring breezes filled with flowered scents..

🌱🧚🏻✨🌿

Source: @itsautomaticfaegirl

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Stranger 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.

Part of the Backwoods AU

Note: My first time writing this character!

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your nails are crusted in dirt as you kneel in the garden. You grunt as you wrestle the roots of weed from the soil and toss it aside. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove as you hear the screen door snap shut. Your grandmother stands on the stoop, her hand on her achy hip.

“Did you hear, dearie?” She calls in her creaky voice. “Someone’s moved into Clyde’s old house.”

“Huh?” You catch your breath as you gather up the broken weeds, “it’s half ash.”

“Suppose they’ll fix it up,” she mutters as she leans on the narrow iron rail along the side of the backsteps.

“Suppose,” you agree as you stuff the green and brown foliage into the paper bag for the compost. “Who told you that?”

“I was just talking to Lynette on the phone. She also said Molly’s having her fifth.”

Five kids? You hide your chagrin at the thought. You don’t mind kids but that’s a lot to handle, let alone the pregnancies. Molly balloon’s up so big she can hardly move. Her last shower, she sat the whole time. Not much different than you, you guess. You sat in the corner and watched the silly games

“That’s exciting,” you say as you stand and dust off your knees, crumpling the top of the bag in your other hand.

“Ah, I’m sure you woulda loved to have four sisters? Maybe brothers? It’s a pity your mother never gave me any more grandchildren.”

“Mmm,” you suppress a frown, “yeah, well…”

“Anyhow, enough talk of spoiled milk,” she waves off, “I got a pie in the oven. You can take it over the Clyde’s once it cools.”

“I… why would I do that?”

“Oh my, don’t be ridiculous. We have a new neighbour, we have to be polite and welcome them to the village. It’s probably a nice family, or maybe someone your age. A friend?” She suggests, “I’d do it myself but I don’t think I’d make the walk…” she looks down at her hip, theatrically rubbing it. 

“Right,” you agree, the prospect of strangers making your tummy lurch. “Well, that pie will take some time.”

“Long enough for you to put on something clean,” she tuts as she looks down at your dirty jeans, “my lord, what would they think?”

“Yes, gramma, I’ll change, once I get this in the compost.”

“Good,” she smirks triumphantly and turns to swing open the screen door, the hinges whining shrilly.

You sniff and cross the yard. It’s not often there’s new faces in Hammer Ford. The village is a tourist trap at best and not a very lively one. Everyone calls each other by name and it’s second nature to stop and say hi. But that’s because you know each other; you have for years.

You lift the lid on the large bin and empty the bag into it. You could always lie and hide the pie in some bushes. Your deceit wouldn’t be hidden for long. Even in this sleepy place, word travels fast and someone always seems to be watching and waiting to pass it on.

🥧

You head out with the pie in a basket like some fairytale. You’re only short a red hood and a big bad wolf. You set off down the country roads, following the lazy curves towards the horizon. It’s after noon and the sun’s turning mild as it drifts across its pale canvas.

The old homestead is the second closest to your grandmother’s. The homes around Hammer Ford or sprawled out amid the plowed fields and green meadows. The cluster of old pines loom over you as you pass in there shadow and crest the hill that marks the edge of the property. Clyde’s tractor used to sit there, just by the broken down fence.

Ahead, down another stretch of road, this path unpaved, stands the decrepit house. The tragedy still singes the memories of the villagers. That night comes back to you in a blaze of orange and the smell of cinder. Poor old Clyde was buried behind Sacred Stave church.

You search the overgrown grass for a sign of life. There’s a black truck by the caved in garage but that’s about it. It might not be a family. It’s a lot of work to do with little ones around. If anything, it would only be the parents as they rebuild. Your mind wanders, wondering who would buy the old farm and why.

You come down the path, just along the ditch that dips behind a cluster of brambles. There’s a snap and a crack and you skid to a halt on the stones. You spin and look around, a heavy breath pluming into the air. Like the fire reawakened.

“Can I help you?” The deep timbre rolls through you and you step back on your heel as you face the man down in the ditch. He peers up at you above the scraggly top of the brambles.

“Uh,” you gulp and stare at him dumbly. He might think you’re lost. Or worse, trespassing.

His hair is short, only an inch on top and shaved even shorter around the sides. His beard is thick around his mouth, growing sparse across his cheeks, and two vibrant blue eyes beam back at you. The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink away. You can sense the city radiating off of him. He scares you.

“Hello? What’s up?” He waves as if trying to wake you up.

“Um, pie?” You say, cringing at your own speechlessness.

“Pie,” he repeats flatly.

You hold up the basket and blink. You never were very good at introductions. You were the only girl at school without friends. You were just sort of there.

“Pie,” you echo once more and hold out the basket.

He tilts his head, curiously, and huffs. He juts out his jaw and grunts as he pushes the brambles apart and climbs out of the ditchy. His denim jacket is streaked in dirty and pollen.

He takes the basket by the handle, his rough finger brushing yours. He peels back the cloth and to peek inside, “pie.” He utters the syllable a fourth time between you.

“Yeah,” your voice is wispy and small. “Bye.”

You let out a strained breath and spin, keeping yourself from breaking into a sprint. You stomp away frantically, smacking yourself internally for being so awkward. Well, maybe that’s a good thing. He’ll have no reason to talk to you ever again.

[burntheedges]

Passing Notes: Park

Dieter Bravo x gn!reader | 1.5k words | Passing Notes masterlist

summary: You come upon a strange man while spending your day at the park.

a/n: as I said in the masterlist for these, to all of my followers and mutuals – I love you! Thank you for being here. I wish I could have written one for each of you individually. (I am just one person who needs to sleep.) So I wrote this one for all of you, based on this poll — surprise! The secret is out. 🧡

tags/warnings: flirting, drink mention, reader walks and sits at a park but is otherwise not described

...

It was a beautiful day – warm but not too hot, nice breeze, enough clouds to provide some shade when you needed. You’d taken one look out of your window that morning and knew you needed to get outside.

You finally found time later that morning. You slipped into comfortable walking clothes and sneakers and headed to your favorite park with a book and a blanket. It was one of the larger parks in the city, with lots of places to sit and relax. You knew it would probably be crowded, but that was ok – the people watching might be more entertaining than your book. 

The park drew all kinds – families, couples on dates, packs of teenagers, college students working off a hangover, runners, frisbee enthusiasts. It always made for truly excellent people watching, especially when you wore sunglasses.

When you arrived you found that it was crowded, but not too crowded, and you set off down one of the paths that led to a meadow you particularly liked. You enjoyed the short walk to get there, looking around at the people you passed and letting your surroundings start to relax you.

You turned the corner into your meadow, already thinking about setting up your blanket under the large maple tree, when you were brought up short by the unexpected sight in front of you. 

There was a man in the meadow.

That wasn’t remarkable, on its own. He wasn’t even the only one. But he was the only person lying on his back, limbs out like he was making a snow angel, snoring in the sunlight. You trailed your eyes over him, taking in the details of his mismatched outfit. He was wearing a lurid green robe, plaid pajama pants, and a ripped t-shirt. His shirt and pants were absolutely covered in paint splatters. He had on sunglasses and his hair looked like he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket. He was wearing one sock and the ugliest pair of crocs you’d ever seen. And he was extremely handsome.

As you observed him, he let out a truly impressive snore, started, and relaxed back into sleep, arms and legs still flung out at different angles. He looked like he’d wandered out of his house and decided to take a nap in the sun.

You blinked. You glanced around and noticed that people were giving him the side-eye but leaving him alone. There were a couple of teenagers whispering and pointing at him, but you shrugged it off as typical teenager behavior. You decided you’d set up nearby, glad you’d brought an extra bottle of water and sunscreen, just in case. You had a feeling he might need it.

You set up under your maple tree, only about 15 feet away from the mysterious sleeping man. You cracked open your book and managed to read for about half an hour before he drew your attention again.

With a sudden start, he snorted and flew to a sitting position, arms windmilling around him. You watched, concerned, as he started patting at his clothes before groaning and running his hands down his face under his sunglasses. His shoulders slumped and he threw his head back, mumbling something under his breath.

You kept an eye on him and were surprised to see him look around and then turn towards you. 

He scooted forward on his knees a few feet, and then twisted his hands together nervously. “Um, excuse me,” he started, shoulders curling inward. “What time is it?”

You turned towards him and read him the time from your phone. He groaned again.

“Shit. Um, thank you, I mean. Ugh,” he flopped back onto his back dramatically. “Can’t believe I did it again…” he trailed off, throwing his arms over his face. You decided he seemed pretty harmless (and a little pathetic).

“Um, are you alright?” You marked your place in your book and set it down. 

He moaned. “No, I’m not alright. I just accidentally fell asleep outside. Again.”

You blinked. How does someone fall asleep outside by accident?

“You…” you started, unsure of how to ask. “Do you regularly fall asleep outside? In public?” You tried not to sound judgemental, but what?

He sighed and fell back into his starfish pose that he’d been sleeping in. “I try not to. I swear, I was doing so well! But sometimes I need inspiration and I come out to look at the night sky and then whoops, it’s morning.” He moaned again. “And I don’t even have my keys.”

You studied him as you took in this new information. “Do you want some water?”

He perked up suddenly, lifting his head to look at you. “You have water? I would die for some water right now. I’ve never been so thirsty in my entire life.” He really put the drama into it, and you started to smile.

“Well, you can just have it, no need to do anything like die for it.” You tossed him the water bottle and he watched it fly towards him. He let it land in the grass next to him without moving to try to catch it before grabbing it and starting to drink from it like he hadn’t had a drink in days.

“You’re an angel,” he gasped when he came up for air. “Are you an angel? For real? Usually when I wake up in the park there are strangers taking pictures of me and laughing.”

You felt a pang of anger that people would do that rather than offer help. “That sounds shitty, I’m sorry–”

He waved off your words. “It’s fine, I’m used to it.” He took another long drink of water.

Used to it? You shrugged. He must really do this a lot. “Still shitty.”

He shook his head and turned his body towards you, about 5 feet away on the grass. “Yeah, probably. I barely notice.” He shrugged again, and you frowned.

You decided to let it go, since he was apparently unbothered. “Inspiration for what?”

“Huh?” he replied, mouth open. You smiled a bit at how much he let whatever he was thinking show all over his face.

“You said you come out here for inspiration. Inspiration for what?” You tilted your head, curious.

“Oh!” he wrapped his arms around his knees and curled into a little ball. “Painting. I paint. And I usually can’t sleep, so I paint at night. And then,” he gestured around him with one hand before returning it to its place around his calves, “this happens.”

You snorted. “You need to, like, tell someone where you’re going, next time. Or bring someone with you.”

He smiled, wistfully, and rested his cheek against his knee. “No one to tell, I guess. And my agent is sick of me.” His smile twisted into a frown. “And I think it would make her worry. But I’ve never run into an angel doing this before. Or anyone nearly as nice.”

You felt a pang for him, this mystery man who didn’t have a close enough friend to keep him from sleeping outside semi-regularly. But you didn’t really know him and weren’t sure what to say.

“You could always tie yourself to the bed.” You tried for a joking tone, but as soon as you said it, you regretted it. You could feel your cheeks start to burn, but then you realized he looked delighted.

“Well, angel, I’d much rather have a partner for that kind of thing.” He grinned and raised his sunglasses up to wink at you. It was silly, but it also gave you the chance to realize he had beautiful eyes. And that you recognized him.

“Oh!” You said, startled. “You’re Dieter Bravo!”

His delighted expression immediately shifted into a grimace. “Err, yes–” he hesitated. “I am.”

You suddenly understood why people would take pictures of him sleeping outside, and it made you angrier than before. “Don’t worry,” you hurried to reassure him. “I’m not going to tell anyone I found Dieter Bravo sleeping in a public park.”

He looked like he maybe wanted to smile again, but wasn’t sure. “No? People usually do. The paps are bored with it now, though, just so you know.”

You shook your head and smiled. “No, I promise. It’s not their business.” You introduced yourself and he let himself smile again.

“Well, angel, this is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me in this park.” You laughed. “Any chance I could use your phone to call a ride?”

You nodded and handed it over. He scooted closer on the grass until he was half on your blanket. You started to gather your stuff as he made his call – it was probably time to head home.

“Oh, are you leaving?” He looked put out.

“Aren’t you leaving, too?” you asked, confused.

“Well, yeah, but not for about 20 minutes. Could we–” he swallowed and twisted his hands in your blanket. “Do you want to, um. Talk?”

You smiled. “I’d love to.”

Dieter grinned. “Amazing.” He lifted his sunglasses to rest in his wild hair and winked at you again. “And, um. I might have put my number in your phone. If you wanted to hang out again.” He winked. “Or maybe revisit the idea of figuring out how to keep me in bed at night. If, um. If you want.”

You laughed, charmed, and leaned closer. “Alright. Let’s talk.” You let your hand creep towards his on the blanket. “And we’ll see.”

...

tagging because you're amazing and this is for you:

@joelsgreys @msjarvis @jennaispunk @schnarfer @thesluttylittleknee

@harriedandharassed @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @anoverwhelmingdin @silenceindminor

@myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123

@joelalorian @untamedheart81 @ashleyfilm @jessthebaker @jeewrites

@fluffygoffpanda @paleidiot @mithicakurogo @theclairvoyage @lizzie-cakes

@islacharlotte @syd-djarin @copperhalfcent @vabeachazn @spacedoutdaydreamer

@littlevenicebitch69 @pigeonmama @ravensmadreads @sheepdogchick3 @sixhours

@nedgooel @dancingtotuyo @vickie5446 @ezrasbirdie

(sorry tumblr is fighting tags right now)

[peptothesi]

Y/N as the JoJo’s parental figure

(I love a good healthy relationship between parents and children so soft and sweet BE THE BUCCIARATI WE ALL KNOW YOU CAN BE!! Also this one is a bit long btw)

Spoilers⚠️

Jonathan

🐶 After Dio moved in Jonathan’s father was very harsh towards him and Jonathan (who was 12 I think) often found himself away from home.

🐶 One day on your way to the town you came across him hiding and crying in the bushes and who were you to leave a poor kid alone.

🐶 You kept him company for a while and gave him someone to rant to and a shoulder to cry on.

🐶 You two became close and you both often had a picnic together in a meadow nearby Jonathan’s house.

🐶 You also subconsciously began parenting him and keeping an eye out for him.

🐶 You helped him become the gentleman he and his father wanted him to be.

🐶 Jonathan lost his mother at a very young age and he feared he would never be able to feel that motherly love until you came along.

🐶 When Dio began picking on him and Erina you came along and gave him a stern talking to , after that he steered clear of you.

🐶 It’s seemed wherever Jojo went trouble followed and you were there to get him out of it.

🐶 One day when you and Jonathan were walking home you gave him a treat you picked up at the shops to take home.

He smiled at the gift and hugged you “Thank you mum!” and pulled away. You were shocked and Jonathan was flustered he didn’t run away he said what he said and he meant it he sees you as a parental figure!

You pulled him in to a hug again and held him tight “You’re welcome my boy” and he shed some happy tears. George knew what was happening and he wasn’t upset no it was good that Jonathan had someone to turn to and after seeing your kind nature he knew if anything were to happen you would look after his boy.

🐶 You watched him grow into a man and you were proud of him as if he were you own son (he might as well be at this point lmao)

🐶 Then when Dio first faced Jonathan and killed George, George made you promise to be there for his son.

🐶 After George’s death you kept Jonathan at your house so he could recover, you teased him everytime Erina left, you were there when he was mourning and you were there when he needed you most.

🐶 You let him go with a man named Antonio knowing it would be what’s best for Jonathan and you kept an eye on Erina for him while he was away.

🐶 When he came back and Dio was defeated you were the first to hug him (after Erina of course) and told him you were proud of him.

🐶 You were there for the wedding to fill in for his dad and you were there to watch him off on his trip to America.

🐶 You cried you heart out when he died at the lost of your boy and made your way quickly over to America to meet Erina.

Joeseph

✈️ Joseph was an energetic child poor Speedwagon and Erina couldn’t keep up with him.

✈️ He loved his comic books when he was younger (he always loved comic books he’s a nerd-) so he spent a lot of time at the comic shop which was where you worked.

✈️ It wasn’t new to see a spiky head of hair from over the counter looking at the newest copies that came in.

✈️ You didn’t really have that parental instinct with him yet but when he made it his life’s mission to annoy you and be a general menace to your peaceful day, you started to get fond of him.

“Oi! Y/N look I can hold my breath for ten minutes!!”

“Oh really? I’ll set a timer”

“Ready 1..2..GO!”

* 1 minute later *

“Kay joeseph you can stop now I’m impressed”

“…”

“Joseph stop holding your breath the timer went out”

“…”

“Joseph you can breath now!!”

*passes out*

“JOSEPH!!”

✈️ You would hold back some copies of latest comics and some sweets for him to surprise him.

“WHAT! How are they all gone already!!”

“What’s wrong now Joseph”

“All the new Popeye comics are gone!(it was the 1930s leave me alone!)”

“Oh yeah the last one just left when you came in”

“WHAT?! And you didn’t stop them!”

“Why would I business is business”

“Even for your favourite kid in New York!!”

“Who’s says your my favourite?”

“We both know I’m your favourite but your not my favourite anymore!”

“Ouch and I had a spare popeye copy just for you oh well-“

“I CHANGED MY MIND I LOVE YOU NOW GIVE IT-“

“You are a little user aren’t you”

“Yup”

“That’s 1 dollar”

“What it’s usually 10 cents! I don’t have that cash!”

“Users pay more-“

“Y/NNNN”

✈️ Joseph practiced his line predicting with you and it never stopped freaking you out until you did it back.

“Your next line is Joseph pick up your mess!”

“Joseph pick up your mess- wait what?”

“HAH GOT YOU AGAIN!”

“Your next line is I’m just that cool”

“I’m just that cool!!”

“…”

“… Wait a minute-“

✈️ Joseph’s second home was your shop and he thought it was so cool that you lived there.

✈️ If he saw you outside of work he would drag you to the park and made you push him on the swing.

✈️ He would fall asleep in the shop too and you would have to close up and carry him home.

✈️ When he was younger he made you a card and gave it to you on Mother’s Day (or Father’s Day).

✈️ As he got older Joeseph often hid in the shop from other kids he was running from.(let’s say he’s 14-15)

✈️ You’d lecture him sometimes about bringing gangsters around and he’d just say “Ok MUM/DAD/PARENT!”

✈️ When he got expelled from school you offered to help him finish off his education and gave him a small job at the shop to keep him from causing more trouble.

✈️ You’d call him kiddo as a nickname but one time on accident you called him son.

“Y/N I’m hungry is there anything to eat?”

“Yeah I’ve some party sandwiches in the fridge.”

“Can you get me a few please”

“Sure kiddo“

*gets food and hands food over*

“There you go son-“

“…”

“…”

“… oh my god-“

“I-I’m sorry it slipped I can go do something else and be out of your way if you want-“

“NO NO! It’s ok I don’t mind”

*takes food*

“Thanks mom/dad/zaza”

✈️ Since then you both started calling each other that.

✈️ Erina and Speedwagon are ok with this too because they know they can only fill up a portion of a parental love and since Jonathan had a person like that (lmao an Easter egg about part1 y/n) it’s makes them reminisce and feel at ease.

✈️ You knew of Joseph’s parents since he was young but that didn’t make you treat him any different which Erina and Speedwagon appreciated.

✈️ When Joseph turned 18 he was full of trouble especially when he had that little ability of his, but you didn’t stop protecting him from getting in trouble with police and Erina.

✈️ Joseph then had to leave for a while which made you worry sick and rightfully so because when you got the news that he died you closed up the shop for a while it felt wrong to be open and know that your boy wouldn’t be coming in that day.

✈️ You went to the funeral reluctantly to Erina and Speedwagon’s request where you got to meet Lisa Lisa his actual parent.

✈️ She hugged you and thanked you for taking care of her son and sincerely said that you were as much of his parent as she was maybe more which almost made you cry.

✈️ When you found out he was alive and married you were so shocked that you fainted.

“What?! You didn’t know I was alive or married but I told Suzie to send a letter I swear I did! Unless..”

“Hah oh my god-“ *blacks out*

“Y/N!Suzie you killed your in-law!”

✈️ And just imagine an older Joseph telling his grandson all about you it would be so cute.

“When I was your age I hung out at Y/N’s comic shop, they used to spoil me rotten”

“I know jiji…”

“Y’know I didn’t grow up with a mom or a dad but I had them and now I look back at it they were the best thing I had to that kind of relationship.”

“Jiji…”

“Every now and again tell your mom you love her even if it’s not everyday just say let her know, Jotaro”

“I know Jiji”

“I miss ‘em Jotaro”

(I hate myself for writing this, this is the closest thing to angst I’m ever writing)

Jotaro

🐬 His dad wasn’t around for a lot of his sons life due to work reasons it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love his family though.

🐬 You’ve been friends with Holly since she moved to Japan, so you’ve been around for majority of Jotaro’s life.

🐬 So when Holly’s husband went off on tour she insisted you move in to her company and so you wouldn’t be by yourself.

🐬 Jotaro was only a toddler so you’d often find him waddling after you or looking for you, though if you ever caught him and looked at him he’d run to Holly and hide.

🐬 You would bring books and treats to try win him over and eventually he started warming up to you.

🐬 He wouldn’t be as close to you as he was to Holly cause he’s a mommas boy born and raised but if Holly wasn’t there and you were you were the next best thing.

🐬 I’m sorry but imagine a little Jotaro handing you a family picture and seeing yourself there holding his tiny squiggly line for a hand, frame that shit.

🐬 When Joseph and Suzie first came to visit when you moved in they thought you too were dating lmao.

🐬 But you both cleared the air and Joseph just outright said he preferred you to Jotaro’s dad (he doesn’t like him)

🐬 You introduced Joot to the marine life and took him to the aquarium for the first time.

🐬 Just imagine your reading the newspaper and a little Jotaro in his high chair and just copies your word as his first word.

*you flicking through your paper*

“My god the news nowadays is atrocious *flicks page* Yare Yare daze”

“Ya..”

“Hah? Was that you?”

“Yaya.. daya..”

“Don’t say it please”

“Yaya… yaya daya”

“Oh no…”

“Yaya yaya daya”

“You are so smart that’s two words I’m impressed but I’m going to be in so much trouble you know that right?”

“ Yaya “

“Fuck..”

“Fu-“

“NO!”

🐬 Holly laughed it off.

🐬 There was once the question of would you and Holly ever be together and no it’s strictly platonic but she often jokes about marrying you.

🐬 Your job is to collect him from school and you sometimes would take a small detour and get some ice cream or a treat.

🐬 I’ve seen some posts saying that he actually might have been bullied growing up because he was only half Japanese, which I think is a good insight into why he is the way he is.

🐬 You’d have to patch him up before Holly saw.

🐬 He’s always went to you for advice even when he was younger ,he would go to Holly but he doesn’t want to worry her.

“You are the bravest little boy I know Jotaro”

“… can we not tell mom”

“Jotaro she needs to know you can’t keep her in the dark about this”

“She’ll get worried and I don’t want that”

“That’s her job Jotaro, you can’t keep it all in kiddo you’ll end up hurting yourself”

“…”

🐬 You holly and Jotaro often played in the garden together.

🐬 Him asking you to come on parents day when Holly is sick.

🐬 Even when he was younger women of all ages would coo over him and you not being blind could tell he was uncomfortable and told them to leave him he but they wouldn’t so you asked again.

“Oh isn’t he just sweet”

“Look at those eyes so pretty!”

“Aw I just want to take him home!”

“Sweetie would you like anything I can get it from the stall for you”

“Can I’ve a hug honey cmon just one!”

“LEAVE MY CHILD ALONE YOU’RE MAKING HIM UNCOMFORTABLE!! NOW PISS OFF!!”

“Well I never”

“Who are to say that to us!”

“You’re not his parent!”

“We should call child protection services”

“What a brute”

“Yare Yare daze let’s just go Jotaro”

🐬 Since that day you are captain of Jotaro protection squad.

🐬 His first day of high school you gifted him pins for the hat Holly gave him.

🐬 You’ve watched him closely as he grew up and there is an obvious child and parental love there though it’s not a much or strong as his with Holly’s you know he care.

🐬 He never called you mom or dad you’ve always just been Y/N to him not as an insult to disrespect you no Jotaro just doesn’t care about labels that’s doesn’t mean he doesn’t see you as a parent.

🐬 He does still take your advice as a rebellious teen.

🐬 Like when he left for a month you said you would stay behind with Holly but you would often get phone calls from Joseph asking about Holly and filling you in on everything.

🐬 And late at night you would get phone calls from Jotaro asking about her as well.

“Hello kujo residence this is Y/N speaking”

“Hi Y/N…”

“Oh hello Jotaro, how are you?”

“Tired…”

“I can imagine just make sure you’re getting plenty of rest okay?”

“Yeah yeah I will”

“Your grandpa told me you’ve arrived in Cairo you must be happy you’ve come so far”

“Yeah I can’t wait to get this shit over with”

“Hah I can imagine you mom can’t wait to have you home again she misses you”

“How is she doing?”

“Oh she’s strong she’s just tired her temperature is going down a bit and she’s talking”

“That’s good…”

“Jotaro… you know if there’s anything wrong I’m here to talk, right?”

“Yare Yare daze, yeah I know I’m just looking forward to coming home”

“Don’t you Yare Yare daze me boy, I taught you that shit, give me more sass and I’ll come to Egypt and whoop your butt mister!”

“*smiles*”

“Well I better go to bed it’s late and you must be exhausted.”

“Yeah… goodnight I guess… can I call you again tomorrow?”

“Call again whenever you want to son ok?”

“……”

“Was that too much? I’m sorry I won’t-“

“No, it’s ok… it’s nice goodnight Y/N”

“Oh that’s a relief goodnight Jotaro”

🐬 He looked forward to your midnight calls it helped him push through.

🐬 When Jotaro came home he immediately went to his mom and let her hug him.

🐬 Jotaro looked for you later that night and found you outside his room sitting down.

“What are you doing?”

“I could ask you the same question”

*sits next to you*

“Happy to be home?”

“Yeah..”

“Well we’re happy to have you home kiddo, it wasn’t feeling as angsty as it was”

“Harhar”

“No but seriously I missed you kid I really did”

“…”

“Never mind you’re tired time to go to bed anyways c’mon back to bed with you kid.”

*you get up*

“Hey… I’ll see you in the morning Jotaro ok?”

“Y/N… I missed you too”

*you smile*

“Goodnight son”

*you go to your room*

“Goodnight mom/dad/zaza”

(This was a cute one I’m proud of myself)

🐬 Your Jolyne’s favourite grandparent besides Holly, even though you aren’t related.

Josuke

💛 Another Jojo without a present father figure.

💛 Little Josuke got into a lot of fights over his hair when he was younger.

💛 As charismatic as he was he was a scary little boy who could somehow beat a grown man to a bloody pulp thanks to his little friend.

💛 You’ve kept an eye on the boy for a while now not because you’re a stalker it’s a small town and he just appears out of nowhere and you have concluded and confirmed that the kid had a stand.

💛 One day you in the park just sitting down and enjoying the nice Morioh weather, when you saw a group a teens crowded in a corner you take no heat to it until you hear a familiar little voice yelling, your eyes drift back to the teens and you seen a familiar pink and blue arm trying to attack.

💛 You stand up and walk over there listening in on the crowd before attacking,

“Dorarararararararararara!!!”

“Hold him still boys I wanna get another kick in!!”

“Listen here you little punk you hit my brother the other day and you broke his arm, you punk!!”

“So?! He made fun of my hair!! No can do that!!”

“And he’s 6!! If you think you can just own this place you’ve got another thing coming!!”

“Let’s not forget he hit my sister too!! You’re a little bully!! How about you give us all the money in your backpack and maybe we’ll only break your wrists so you don’t try that shit again!!”

“Dora!!”

“Stop fighting back or we’ll break your legs too!!”

“Yeah!! Stop fighting boot head!!”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!!! “

*breaks nose*

“OW MY FACE!”

“You little prick I’m gonna-“

“OI! Dickheads”

💛 They all turn to you annoyed, your eyes wander to Josuke an angry glare pointing towards one of the teens.

“Piss off we’re busy”

“Picking on a little kid? What would your mother say?”

“Didn’t you hear him? He said fuck off!”

“Yeah and we’re not going to repeat ourselves go away!”

“Now now kiddos don’t have a tantrum I have to say good for you for standing up for family but beating up a little kid isn’t good”

“So you heard all that? Then you know he assaulted our siblings!”

“They verbally assaulted his appearance”

“They’re 6!!”

“So is he, now it’s time for you to piss off before I call my police buddies down here”

“You’re a cop?!”

“Yup graduated last week got the badge yesterday now shoo!”

“Dude let’s just go it’s not worth it he learned his lesson!”

“Fine but we’re watching you kid!”

💛 You watched them walk away and turned back to Josuke. Who was just muttering to himself and holding back tiny tears.

💛 You took him to a nearby store and picked up a first aid kit so you could patch him up.

💛 Since then he’s been following you around, you’d often find him at the park and if he sees you he’ll stop what he’s doing and sit beside you.

💛 He told his mom and grandpa about you and they liked you too and somehow you got wrapped into their little family.

💛 Josuke doesn’t care about his father since his mom told the story about how they met, so he’s practically adopted you as his parent.(bare in mind he’s like 6-9)

💛 He introduces you as his parent so you just roll with it.

💛 You pick up magazines and hairspray for him when he needs it.

💛 He told you the story about his hair and how it’s very important to him and you made a pledge to never make fun of it and stand up for him and his hair which made him very happy.

“Hey hair for brains!!”

“HAH?!! What did you say about my hair!!”

“Josuke calm down!”

“But Y/N he said something bad about my hair!!”

“Oh did he now?!”

“Yeah!!”

“Alright kid you’re under arrest!

“WAIT WHAT!!”

“Gettem Y/N!!”

💛 You’re over at his house majority of the time whether it’s to play with him, have a tea with Tomoko or just talk to his grandpa about work.

💛 Eventually you had to mention you could see his stand and he got so excited someone else could see his crazy diamond.

💛 In order for you to see a stand you must have a stand, so you showed off your stand, Enter Sandman.

💛 So not only does you have a kid now so does your stand, you ended up training Josuke helping him figure out his capabilities and even as a kid his stand was really strong.

💛 He really did look up to you not as much as the stranger with the pompadour but he thought you were really cool.

💛 If his grandpa said he couldn’t play with his gun then he asks you, you also say no.

💛 You are the automatic babysitter, when Tomoko goes out and Gramps is busy he is dropped off at your apartment.

💛 Since then he grew up to be a “delinquent” and often met up with you not as a parental relationship but as a cop and a bad kid.

💛 You keep him out of trouble for them most part but tomoko finds out and beats both your asses.

💛 You give him a ride home in your cop car if you ever catch him and his buddies walking home in the rain.

“Okay Josuke we’re home”

“Sweet thanks Y/N!”

“Nots so fast Higashikata that’s 1500 yen for the ride”

“WHAT! But I’m literally your favourite person in Morioh!”

💛 Sometimes Josuke thinks about his dad and gets angry so he goes to you for comfort because his mom would get upset.

💛 He’s a mommas boy too but some stuff he doesn’t want to talk or rant about with his mom so that’s where you come in.

💛 Asks you for help on his homework.

💛 If he pisses you off you will knuggie him he has received this warning and will back down when threatened this.

💛 Won’t outright call you mom/dad/zaza cause he doesn’t even call Joseph, dad and it’s kinda awkward with him right there but he does see you as a parent to him though.

💛 Call him son and he’ll get so flustered and bashful.

💛 When the search for Kira began you included yourself and began looking for clues to help, leading up to the final battle you got injured and Josuke wouldn’t be able to make it to you in time and catch Kira so he had to leave you vulnerable, when Kira died he went back to you and healed you but you wouldn’t wake up.

“Y/N! I’m here y/n time to wake up now ok? I healed you, we won Kira’s gone now so you can get up now!”

“…”

“C’mon Y/N don’t fucking play this shit it’s not funny!”

“Josuke…”

“No! I came in time their heart was beating I did I swear!!”

“Josuke come on let’s take you to the hospital you’re injured”

“NO! C’mon wake up wake up you idiot!!”

*he shakes you*

*sobs and sad times*

*you start coughing*

“Don’t call me an idiot you little shit”

“You’re alive!! Why didn’t you respond to me!!”

“I was tired I haven’t been getting much sleep since Kira..”

*Josuke hugs you*

“I thought I lost you mom/dad/zaza”

“Huh?”

“Wait no I mean Y/N that’s what I said I didn’t mean-“

*you pull him into another hug*

“I’m not going anywhere son, don’t you worry”

Giorno

🐸 Giorno grew up with a rough childhood full of neglect and abuse and unfortunately you didn’t come into his life until he went to a boarding school.

🐸 You we’re one of the teachers at his school and got to help him when he needed you.

🐸 He never really did he was always so independent but you kept an eye on him cause what can you say the boy in the pink suit got your attention.

🐸 It started with you bringing him meals when he forgot his own.

🐸 Sneaking him snacks late at night.

🐸 Fetching products for his hair, you help him dye his hair it’s hard to see if the back of his head is done right.

🐸 He eventually opened up to you and told you the minimal of his plans and to his surprise you supported him.

“I want to create a drug free world”

“Then you should follow your dream Giorno”

“Wait you think I can achieve my dream?”

“I don’t see why not you’re a smart kid and you’re ambitious, if you need anything or any help with your dream then you know where to find me”

“Grazie”

🐸 You would always cover for him when he snuck out.

🐸 You spoiled him a lot even after he told you about his past, which he saw as pity until you explained.

“Don’t feel the need to spoil me because of my past I don’t need to be pitied”

“Oh Giorno I’m sorry that you see it as that but you’re a hard working boy and one of my best pupils and I figured you should be treated every now and again”

“Ah I see I’m sorry”

“Don’t be, I would never pity you kiddo you can do just fine without it “

🐸 But saying that you got him a ladybug brooch which made you happy to see him wear.

🐸 He doesn’t open up much but he gives you hugs because he’s a lot closer to you than anyone else.

🐸 You’ve both been in each others presence for years before Giorno had joined the Passione.

🐸 He introduced you to the bucci gang before leaving to transport Trish so you would know where he is and not worry.

“Bruno this my mama/padre/zaza- um oh dear“

“Allow me son, hello I’m Giorno’s mama/padre/zaza!!”

“Bruno bucciarati it’s a pleasure to meet you.

“Signore Bucciarati the pleasure is all mine!”

🐸 He meant it but he didn’t mean to say it and that was the last time Giorno ever slipped up.

🐸 Then on everyone called you mama/padre/zaza Y/N.

🐸 Giorno doesn’t live it down.

🐸 Giorno calls you when he’s on missions though which is nice and he keeps you up with everything that’s happening.

🐸 He sends you gifts from his missions such as pictures or even souvenirs.

🐸 You we’re there to comfort the remaining bucci gang and adopted them all as your children.

🐸 Has a picture of you on his desk when he’s the don.

(I didn’t know what to say for this because he has Bruno and it almost feels like I’m making him betray Bruno 😢)

[furious-rogue-stuff]

CONGRATULATIONS!!!! Your trully really deserve it!! So can I request 🗡🥺🐣please?

Sending u love and hugs🫶🏻🫶🏻

My dear friend! I'm sorry for the ridiculous wait on this, but I finally got around to this wonderful prompt. This is my first time writing Pero Tovar, so I hope I've done him justice.

Thanks, as always, to @just-here-for-the-moment for putting up with my ass and beta reading to make sure this wasn't complete trash and smutty enough.

Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Spanish woman, written by a Latina. Here's my philosophy on my writing, for further context.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 6,500+

🚨Author chooses not to include detailed warnings, but the following: Mentions of marriage, impersonating a soldier, past violence, scars and war wounds, breeding kink, graphic depictions of unprotected sex, and period-accurate tropes.

Yearn

The air outside was crisp with chill, making it all the more pressing for him to traverse the muddy road towards the small cottage. The smoke from the stone chimney signaled you’d started a fire for supper, and the twinkle of candlelight from the condensation-covered window facing outward to the road and frosty meadow beyond told him you’d intended to keep your promise from that morning.

 The gnaw of hunger had settled in from the long day of labor, but the ache behind his sternum was one of longing, one he’d been nursing since the day before, and it took precedence over any need to fill his belly. He quickly trotted the steed into the rickety barn he’d yet to get around to patching the holes in the roof of, and once the animal was stabled, he trudged determinedly up to the door of the cottage.

He entered quickly and shut the chill out behind him, dark eyes adjusting to the dim lighting once he furrowed his brow and loped towards the weathered hearth. The steps that led to the loft above, where your marital bed was housed in a snug, insulated nook, were empty, and the table was already set with bread and wine while the savory stew kept warm in the caldero tucked near the fire. Yet, no sign of you.

“…Are you aloft already, condesa?” Pero speaks firmly, so his query can be heard clearly from above. 

There is no answer, so he paces towards the steps, senses on high alert now. His instincts bellow for him to retrieve his sword from whence it’s stored, hidden in a nearby trunk, or to at least unsheathe the hidden blade he keeps on his person. He palms the handle of his dagger, tucked in its scabbard at the back of his leather belt underneath his well-worn poncho. His expression becomes stony, scar over his left eye resembling an etching, one that reveals the capacity of brutality suffered and meted out in return. 

It's the soft flutter of clothing he hears first before he sees the movement from the shadowed corner that has him pivoting and effortlessly catching you as you leapt out at him from your stealthy ambush spot – the pantry cubby you’d climbed up into and waited for the right moment to pounce. 

“Gotcha!” he growls triumphantly as he swings you around with impish delight, making you encircle your arms to hold onto his broad shoulders while you squeal mirthfully whilst your tunic skirts flutter about. “Trying to get the jump on me? Really, tigresita?!”

Not to be foiled completely, you wrap your legs around his hips and toss yourself backwards, creating a momentum that forces him to swing around until he’s able to break both your falls onto the bench you’d improvised using two bales of hay and an old tapestry draping you’d found discarded upstairs.

Pero lands with an exhaled huff, and you victoriously use his distraction to grab his thick wrists and pin his arms above his head.

“Bueno, I’ve bested the great guerrero, the most fearsome man with a blade, who said I was too noisy for my own good to ever get the drop on him, was it?” you’re gloating as you stare sultrily into his sardonic, handsome expression. “Well? Do you yield?”

“You are much too playful for me to try besting, my love, so…” Pero draws in that graveled rumble of his, musing and melodic before he suddenly bucks you off of him and rolls to pin you under him instead. “No, I do not yield.”

You scoff haughtily, arching a smug brow as you chime, “Good, because this is where I wanted to end up anyway.”

“Oh, is that right?” he husks, unable to muster the faux scowl any longer, so he smirks and croons in that bass-filled melodic murmur, one that always sets your nerve endings on fire, as he intensely stares into your eyes. “You wanted to end up on your back and underneath the tired and dirty mercenary-turned-farmhand that’s made you his wife? Well, I should hope so, mi amada.”

You smile enchantingly at him and arch your hips up into his. “It is so, mi marido,” is your silky purr as you lean up and brush your soft lips over his. 

Pero grunts approvingly and deepens the kiss, hand cupping your jaw possessively as he plunders the cup of your mouth with his voracious tongue.

Equally as possessive are your hands as they grope and cling to his thick tunic under his poncho before eagerly shoving upwards in order to tug at his undershirt in an attempt to slip beneath to touch his skin. He smells of soil, grain and leather, musky scent heightened by his salty sweat. It makes your head spin with lust, and has arousal cloying from your center. His mouth is warm, and you ache to feel his powerful and overheated body against your bare skin as he presses into you with need.

You are desperate to undress him, and he realizes how much so when you dig your heels into the back of his trousers and groan into his mouth a pleading command.

Breaking the kiss, Pero pants against your gasping mouth before grumbling, “What was that?”

“I said I want you inside me now, Pero,” you airily repeat, the tone of your demand though is softened by your excitement now that he’s pointedly ground his arousal into your tingling center. “Mmm, please—”

“Such a needy little thing, begging so,” he chuckles ruggedly, timbre hitting that octave that has desire beseechingly pulsing in the seat of your core. His dark eyes crinkle as if he can sense how aroused you are, and just as you whine for him to comply, he slips a hand between your bodies and hikes it up the front of your skirts to cup you at the haven of your thighs. “And here I thought you were simply keeping your promise to wait up for me, no matter how late my return from the merchants. But instead, you try to best me into submission so you can have me fill this warm cunt, eh?”

His fingers trace along the crest of your sex before gliding along your warm, wet seam, parting your folds just as his thumb presses into the hood of your clit. “Ah, Pero!” you whimper, hands clutching at his sides and gripping sturdy fabric as you roll your hips, seeking the plunge of his fingers into your sheath. “Please—”

He revels in how desperate you are for him, so he presses his luck by testing how far his depraved desires can muster getting you to that fine line of wanting to give into your urge to be dominated versus having dominion to ensnare him into succumbing to his own needs. 

So, he licks your plump bottom lip before grazing his teeth over it licentiously. 

At your gasp and jolt against his edging fingers where you ache for them, Pero mutters coolly, “Is that all you can say, condesa? My fierce little noblewoman-turned-warrior can’t use her words when her sweet cunt is touched?”

The way your eyes sharpen is exactly what he wanted just before he plunges two thick fingers inside you. 

You moan that glorious sound of pleasure that makes him feel like he’s touched the sun and it’s filled him with grace, and the beatific expression of rapture that comes over your lovely face has him straining in his trousers to replace his fingers with his cock. 

But, he persists in this carnal play, and coos, “Look at you, bebita. It’s almost like you’ve yearned for my touch all day—”

“Pero,” you whine when he finger-fucks you slowly while taunting you so. He chuckles at the pleading way you arch up into him, so you dig your nails into the layers until you can feel his solid torso, and hiss, “No me tortures, por favor—”

His musing hum is rich and earthy, and to your aroused senses, it’s like a warm wine hitting your bloodstream. Feeling his broad, strong frame pressed over you, and the teasing prod of his ramrod cock only heightens your need, as does the musky smell of him, the sweat that clings to his skin and the heat of his mouth grazing along your cheek now. 

Scenting your hair by nosing into the locks at your temple, Pero laconically rumbles, “I’d never torture you, sweet girl. I just want you to be mi tigresita valiente and admit you’ve been in heat for me, that you’ve been thinking unchaste thoughts all day—”

He feels your molten sheath clench around his fingers at his words, but the defiance is starting to scintillate in your eyes before you snap thinly, “And what sort of filth have you been thinking, husband?”

Pugnaciously, he smirks like a cunning tentador before husking, “Oh, this very thing. Of having my fingers in your warm cunt – making you restless and insolent, desperate to have my cock inside you instead.” 

At the indolent pump of his fingers changing to a pleasurable curl that brushes the digits against the nested pleasure point inside you, a gasped mewl falls from your mouth as you writhe up into him. 

“I thought about all the ways I’ve given you pleasure, and all the ways I still intend to give you pleasure,” he tells you in that damnable aloof way that makes you burn and melt. “Tell me one naughty little ember that’s kept you hot like this all day, esposa, and I’ll put my mouth on you until you reach bliss on my tongue.”

With a proposition like that? You are turned to clay, features heating from your blush as you confess, “I thought about you, undressed before me, and letting me worship your body with my hands and mouth before getting bare for you so you could make me yours by the fire.”

His fingers pause inside of you and he looks at you with unfettered hunger in his dark eyes. 

You expect him to shift up so he could make that fantasy a reality, but instead, he grunts – as if placated, before receding his fingers from you, crawling down your body to bunch up your skirts so he can bury his face between your thighs. 

The lascivious swipe of his tongue through your drenched folds has you gasping and hiking your knees up to make room for his broad shoulders, writhing in ecstasy as Pero devours your cunt and rubs his fingers over the hood of your pleasure point. He groans when your thighs squeeze around him, and chuckles against your mound when you bury your fingers into his hair and tug. 

The look he shoots up at you from below his brow while he nuzzles shamelessly into the heady curls above your sex makes your pulse spike with exhilaration, and when he shifts your wool-stocking-covered legs further apart for him to angle your pelvis further up to better access your honeyed cunt, you groan imploringly, “Mi amor,” and bite your trembling bottom lip.

It’s exactly what he wanted.

He is unabashed and libidinous with his mouth after he bows his head between your thighs once more, and true to his word, you’re climaxing in minutes on his tongue while you ride his rapacious appendage and grip the thick tufts of dark hair at the crown of his head with one hand whilst moaning blissfully into the back of the other.

The deliriously exquisite feeling that washes over you is divine, and you sigh softly while he laps at your climax and grunts, as if satisfied with your state of euphoria.

So, when you feel cool air between your thighs, your eyes glossily open to stare dazed up at him, confused as he looms over you and grumbles a humored, gloating hum before popping his sullied fingers into his mouth and sucking your slick orgasm off. 

He then stands from the makeshift bench and declares, “I want to eat,” before pivoting to lope unhurriedly to the wooden stool nearest the table so he can plunk down on it and scoot it closer to the fireplace to dutifully stir the stew with the ladle.

You’re flabbergasted. 

Sitting up on your elbows to gape – comically appalled – at him, you watch as he serves himself a bowl of the savory stew while trying to keep the wry grin from pulling at his full lips. He fails miserably though when he looks over at you with that droll expression on his features before he smiles behind the bowl he raises to his lips. It does little to conceal his goading amusement, and you’re glaring at him now that your wits have returned to you.

Once he’s had a few hearty sips of the flavorful meal, he gruffly drawls, “Come stay warm by the fire, mi amada.”

You decide then that two can play this game.

Straightening your tunic skirts down and squeezing your knees together, you sit on the edge of the improvised bench and start unfastening the corseted vest that keeps your tunic and smock cinched to your form.

“I am already very warm, thank you,” is your blithe lilt as you stand and shed the vest. 

Pero turns to watch you with clenched jaw as you remove the dark top tunic, leaving you now in just the green smock and a thin pale linen chemise that teases the shape and ample swell of your breasts. You can feel his eyes on you as you shimmy out of the smock next, leaving you now in just the chemise that hits just above your ankles. The glow from the fireplace hits the light linen and creates a spritely silhouette of your curvy, supple form hidden beneath, and when you hike up the hem just enough to allow you to adjust a wool stocking back up to your knee, you finally look over at him and smile.

“How is the stew?”

“…Come here.”

“Is it not to your liking, my love?”

“…Come here, mujer.”

“Do you prefer mead over wine with it?”

“…I prefer for you to cease teasing me so and come sit with me,” Pero tells you in a guttural croon as he sets his bowl aside on the table and holds his hand out to you in an assertive petition.

You feign meekness as you susurrate, “You said you wanted to eat, though. I am loath to disturb your meal—”

“Come sit on my lap and eat with me already. You’ve made your point,” he yields in a snarky huff, but the smile in his eyes is evident before they crinkle from the appeased smirk that warms his chiseled features when you slyly grin and saunter over to him. 

He swoops you into his lap before you’ve completely maneuvered around, and you scoff sassily at him as you loop your arms around his shoulders. He nuzzles into your neck and fondles his big, warm hands along your curves, making you sigh dreamily and lean into him.

“Have you eaten?”

“I was waiting for you.”

“Hm. Next time, you fill your belly first. Don’t wait on my account, ternura.”

“I will, precioso,” you retort affectionately, earning the expected eye roll and dubious snicker from him. “No seas tan gallardo, y come,” is your fussy quip as you grab his bowl, maneuver nimbly in his lap to reach for the ladle and add more stew to it before handing the bowl to him so you can grab a piece of bread and tear a chunk off to add in as well. 

He smirks broadly, so much so that his boyish dimple is unearthed from his right cheek. “No seas tan porfiada y come, condesa,” is his dashing counter, putting the bowl into your hands before grabbing the other from the table to serve himself some stew. 

You eat together, and you enjoy the warmth of his body as you remain perched on his lap while he leans his back into the wall and gorges himself. He asks where you sourced the meat that’s in the stew, and is proud when you tell him about the rabbit traps you set. You’re resourceful and smart, cunning, yet tender-hearted. It makes something warm and vast expand in his chest, having you be his, and how content you are to belong to him. 

Once the ache in his belly is quieted, he licks his lips before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, eyeing you intensely as you sip from the shared cup of wine.

He belongs to you, too. It stirs blazing desire in him, and fills him with serenity, knowing he’s yours, and how fiercely you made it so.

The longing of before tugs at his heart now as he’s reminded of how you’d sat opposite him the evening prior, balancing the small tyke on your knee as you’d both shared dinner at the farmer’s homestead. The former soldier had settled this land years prior, married, and started a family. Winter had been fast approaching, and after a chance encounter with the man on the road, you’d both accepted the offer to board at the vacant cottage on his land, exchanging labor and help prepping for the winter for room and board. 

Pero had watched you while the farmer and his wife chattered about the foodstuffs stored earlier and the barley he’d help transport to the merchant market the following morning, how long the journey there and back would be – ‘M’afraid it’ll take up most of the day’ – all while you’d entertained the little one that had become mesmerized by your smile and the silly faces you made to amuse him. 

A heavy desire had settled in his chest, one he couldn’t place, until you’d passed the small toddler over to his mother and offered to pick up the infant that had begun to cry in its woven bassinet. Seeing you hold the wailing baby to your chest and rock it softly as you sat back down and showed the mother how to use the feeding bottle that you’d made out of an old clay pot with a spout you’d improvised in order to supplement her milk with that of the cow’s? How gentle you were once the babe was sated and you could maneuver her in your arms to make sure to burp all the gasses out of the little baby before cradling the sweet infant to sleep? 

It had suddenly awakened something in him that made him feel clumsy – out of his depth. 

He shakes the reveries off when you hum and offer the cup of wine to him. 

“Do you want more?”

His features take on that stoic look, becoming marble as he nods and takes the cup to drain it of the remaining wine. 

Thinking he’s become weary from the day now, you take the bowls to be set aside for rinsing in the makeshift dish tub you’d fabricated from an old wine barrel.

Pero watches you hesitate before setting the bowls onto the shelf near you, and then turn back towards him to ask gently, “I have clean water. Would you like me to bathe you?”

His scarred brow cocks up at you, sarcastic as he deadpans, “Would you like me to bathe? Do I smell that bad? Is my stink too odious, condesa?”

Mischievous smile lighting up your features, you feign remorse before shaking your head and chiming, “No, not at all. I happen to like your stink, anyway,” at his amused snort, you continue silkily, “I was just thinking you’d like to feel the warm water over your skin. I heated it over the fire once the stew was ready. It’s tepid now, but still nice.”

He grunts as if charmed, then nods and stands to remove the poncho from his shoulders before tossing it over with the rest of your discarded garments. You pleasantly work to maneuver the tub with the clean water across the floor closer to the hearth and end up smiling when he chivalrously comes over and picks it up for you to be set right next to the stool. 

“This is poor substitute to the bathhouse, I know—” you begin to chuckle.

“You mean the one you went into while impersonating a soldier? Or the one you snuck into to seduce me?” he counters roguishly as he removes his belt, knife, and tunic next.

“No, travieso. I was meaning the one with the eucalyptus leaves and lovely oils that they put in the bath water – from the place we stopped at in the merchant’s quarter?” you deride playfully as you soak a rag in the tepid water before wringing it out. At his sardonic grunt, you stand and turn to bossily grab the waist of his trousers before yanking at the fastening. “Now, be good, husband, and let me undress you.”

His cock has been filled out since he collapsed onto the bench with you, but at your sultry tone, it throbs in response as it stands ready, arousal outlined prominently against the inseam of his trousers. 

You take your time removing the remaining layers of clothes from his torso, then kneel at his feet in order to remove his dirt-caked boots before you finally resume stripping him of his pants.

The glow of the firelight illuminates his tan skin and the myriad of scars that map his body across contours of muscle and vast expanses of flesh. Some are old and worn smooth by time, others are silvery pale and etched, others are a darker olive and raised. He’d once been self-conscious about your gentle, appraising touches – of the doting caresses over the jagged reminders of brutality and pain that had been carved into him by steel blade, arrowhead or iron-made punctures. But now, he yearns for your touch, relishes how you brush your lips over a scar along the curve of his ribcage, and burns with pride at the reverent way you glide the wet rag to scrub the dirt and sweat from his skin. 

He's not even bashful about standing in the nude before you while you remain in your chemise.

No, instead his timidness is palliated by the new fixation crossing his mind’s eye. One that’s conjured you in a kaleidoscope fantasy, where you’re standing before him in the same chemise, but instead it is clinging to a rounded little belly while your beautiful smile broadens as you look upon him. How you would look nude and with child, the way you’d react to his erotic touch – one hand between your thighs, with the other caressing your soft womb.

Before he could get carried away with the curiosities – would she taste sweeter between her thighs, would her scent be more ripened on her warmer skin, how sensitive would she be to being touched and kissed – Pero cleared his throat and his mind as best he could in order to guardedly watch you tend to him.

“So, this is what you’d fantasized about?” he murmurs warmly as you lean back on your haunches after crouching down to rinse the rag in the tub and wring it out once more. 

The chill is warded away mostly by the fire in the hearth, but truthfully he’s so aroused by you that he’s become even more of a furnace than he is normally. You’re glad for it, loving the extra excuse to touch him and revel in his masculine scent.

“The bathing is a windfall, but yes,” you quip as you stand now so you can scrub up into his underarm and whisper conspiratorially, “Another thing I thought of? Was how gorgeous you look when your face is flushed after I suck your cock until you spill in my mouth—”

“Misericordia, mujer,” Pero exhales in a floored scoff as he pauses your scrubbing and cups his hand at your jaw in order to tilt your brazen smile up to him. “You cannot say such depraved filth to me and remain clothed,” is his raspy taunt as he crowds you against the edge of the table. Your titillated stare has him smirking as he tugs at the neckline of your chemise and orders, “Take this off. Now.”

You plop the rag down into the tub and do as you’re told, undressing before him. 

He watches you with his dark, intense eyes, shadow cast by the fireplace shrouding half of his features as you discard the chemise, then your boots, leaving you in only the wool stockings. 

You’re about to ruck one down when Pero surprises you by kneeling and doing it for you. 

“So, how was your day, aside from the erotic daydreaming?” he’s asking in that melodic baritone as he chucks the stocking over his shoulder before moving to the next one, as if his face isn’t an inch from your womanhood and his gloating stare can’t see the debauched effect he’s having on you.

“It-It was fine. I spent most of it in their root cellar, helping stock the things from the barn,” you stutter as he hums to indicate he’s listening while he tosses the other stocking aside and starts fondling his hands up your supple thighs. “With the little ones clinging at her apron, she needed help milking the cow and feeding the chickens—”

“How were the little piglets today?” he jokes, wry glance up at you clear indication he’s referring to the children rather than the actual piglets from the sow in the barn.

You playfully pinch his shoulder. “Que malo,” is your sardonic giggle before answering, “The baby was needy for milk. But she’s practically tapped after the little one has his fill, so I tried to get him to eat some porridge—”

Pero grunts musingly and brushes a sloppy, open-mouth kiss over your womb. “The little glutton is old enough to eat. La pobrecita will be malnourished if she doesn’t get enough milk,” is his aloof grumble, kissing a path up your body as he slowly stands. 

Arousal swoops into your stomach and curls tantalized tingles into your thrumming core. 

“I-I know,” is all you can breathe out as he boxes you between him and the table at your back before looming at his full height to stare hungrily at you. “H-Hopefully they can wean him s-soon—”

“You wanted me to fuck you by the fire?”

Your clench hard at that, nipples studding and desire making you wet with anticipation while his broad frame stands so close, yet so far still. You know he’s being cheeky, trying to put you off-kilter to his whims, but you’re tickled more than anything that he’d try. 

“I said I wanted you to make me yours by the fire,” you retort with a spritely look in your eyes.

“That’s the same thing, isn’t it?” he says in a contrarian drawl, lips pouting at your snickered response. “Well? How is it not?”

“Because! You can fuck anyone, but you can’t make just anyone yours,” you declare with a logical air, hands gliding up his chest now to loop around his neck so you can slink up against him and his warm, bare body.

“Hmm…makes sense, I suppose,” he judiciously replies before confidently hoisting you up.

You giggle effervescently as he carries you over to the makeshift bench, makes short work of shoving it to be closer to the hearth before laying you onto it and hitching himself between your welcoming thighs. 

Pero’s kisses are greedy as he ruts his ramrod shaft between your dripping folds, eager to slicken it in order to spear it into you and make it feel divine for you both. Your hands cling to his muscular back, mouth seeking the warmth of his own for a luscious interlude before you feel him notch the head of his cock at your dimpled entrance. 

He’s content to let you pillage his mouth with your tongue before twirling his own against it, desire a stoked fire in his center that he intends to nurture for as long and as many times he can bring you to climax before he’s overcome with his own release. 

“Por favor, mi amor, dámelo,” you supplicate in a honey-sweet tone, eyes pleading as your body clings to his strong frame. 

He can’t deny you any longer. 

His thrust has you arching, pelvis angling up and knees clutching at his sides as he fucks into you to the hilt while you moan his name and he swears in awe at how sensational this feels every time. 

“Cristo amado,” he groans as he thrusts into you again, passion boiling over in him at the way you mewl against his jaw approvingly. “Wanted this. Needed it—”

“Oh, Pero,” you exhale as he sets a pounding pace and holds you to him like you are liquid, and in danger of coming apart in his arms. “Want you all the time—”

“Yeah?” he groans, nuzzling your neck to suckle a possessive kiss into your delicate skin before he grits, “Need you, amada—”

“Tell me, husband. Mmm, tell me what you need,” you stammer out as he keeps rocking into you in that toe-curling way that has his cock grinding into the ruinous parts inside your fluttering sheath.

Ardently, he growls, “Need you—need to fill you up, keep you full of me. Want you to be mine—” 

You moan in that glorious way again, and it almost drives him over the edge, so he adjusts to loom over you so he can concentrate on your pleasure. To make you reach bliss before he lets his baser, primal desires carry him off. 

He keeps pounding into your squelching cunt as he begins suckling on your nipple while he presses the pad of his thumb over the hood of your bundled pleasure point. 

It sets you alight, and you wail in overawed pleasure as he plucks you so with his cock, fingers and mouth. “Ah, D-Dios mío—” you cry out when he sucks hard on your pebbled flesh and grinds his wanton pleasure to ignite a scintillating climax to burst free. 

You moan as your sheath squeezes around his cock and floods him with your warm orgasm, carried off by the throes of ecstasy he’s unleashed in you.

Punch-drunk from the achievement, Pero moans before he licks a path to the other nipple to toy the tip of his tongue along it until you shiver and whimper from overstimulation when he purses his lips around it. 

“Pero,” you whine airily, eyes heavy-lidded as he frees your nipple and leans up to gaze rapaciously at you. He tenderly pets your sweaty hair from your face and traces his thumb along the apple of your cheek before you sigh, “You didn’t do it.”

He frowns, trailing his thumb to your mouth, intending to caress it over your plush lips before you kiss it dotingly. “Didn’t do what?”

You exhale girlishly before cupping your hand to his cheek. “You didn’t fill me,” is your silly reply, eyes warm with mirth and smile affectionate when he grunts and scowls. “And you held back. There was something you wanted to say—”

“There was, but it…” he pauses before shaking his head and scoffing, “I’m still inside you, amada. Let’s forget it—”

“Pero Tovar, are you timid, so suddenly?” you can’t help but razz, smiling slyly at him when he gives you his intimidating glower. “Oh no, that will not work with me, marido. Your nostrils flaring crossly are cute—”

“You are a maddening woman,” he huffs in that gravelly tone, but the amusement is clear in the creasing of his eyes. “I…I have been thinking things I haven’t before. At least that I haven’t ever considered, and, they are clumsy thoughts. I—I’m unused to being unsure, ternura…”

“Unsure about…what?” you ask and lean up to lovingly gaze into his tense stare. When he hesitates, you can’t help jump to conclusions for him, knowing how reticent he is about discussing his feelings. “If it’s about things here? We could always take William up on his offer – go north to visit him in the spring? Or if you’re not content with, well, this,” you gesture to the shabby interior of the cottage, “we could ask to stay in the hut next to the barn? It’s dryer and closer to the work—”

“It’s none of that. Although I haven’t done well enough of a job in that, I know. Not found us much of a life out here…” Pero grouses, but at your frown, he amends, “This is not the life of nobleza. It’s beneath your stature—”

“Fuck my stature,” you scoff and sit up to roll your positions so you can straddle his lap while he gapes up at you. “I’ve told you plenty of times now that my station in life is for me to decide, and I’ve chosen to be happy and free, with you. Now, mi guerrero obstinado, tell me what you’re unsure of, and I shall tell you if you have cause to be unsure.”

He’s still inside you, and the way his cock throbs in your still tingling sheath while he gives you a penetrating look with those dark brown eyes tells you this is something very primordial. 

“I want to fill you up, make you full of my seed until your belly is soft and round with my child.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, but your hands caress his chest in a soothing, encouraging way that has Pero shutting his eyes and letting out the breath he’d been holding. 

“Our life is not suited for such a…we travel, and such a life would mean settling down,” he tells you firmly before opening his eyes.

He’s disarmed by the fond, radiant look softening your countenance. 

“Well, sure, we would need to settle down, but only for a brief time. Until the little one can come along with us on our travels,” you tell him as you idly undulate your pelvis, grinding his pulsing cock along your silken walls before squeezing your sheath around it for good measure while your breasts bounce from how vigorously you begin fucking yourself onto him. 

The wind begins to howl outside and seep through certain cracks in the door and window, but neither of you seem to care enough to notice as you sensually grind down on him, hair swaying with the way you lean forward to passionately kiss Pero when he groans and clutches your waist tightly, powerful fingers dimpling your flesh as he starts guiding you to ride him harder.

His breath is ragged as everything starts to spin up between you, his lust and adoration tangling around the incredulous realization that you’re in tune with the clumsy thoughts he confessed. 

Still, it scorches something feral and covetous to singe through him as he husks, “You w-want that…? You truly want to be mine—to be with child?” 

You moan and plant your palms to his warm, flexing pectorals as you ride him with desperate vigor now, expression beaming with delight. 

“There’s nothing I want more,” you declare with genuine enamored satisfaction, albeit pantingly so as you ride him and mewl in pleasure.

Pero is torn asunder by your words as much as by how exquisitely you’re riding him, and he’s so propelled to the precipice of climax and primal need to triumph in it that he effortlessly sits up and manhandles you to flip positions so he can fuck you with passionate zeal and get you there with him just as his cock swells and twitches in imminent release. 

“Mi alma, I’ll fuck my seed deep—make it so nothing spills free from you—have you filled full with it, and rejoice once a child is in your womb,” he’s professing against your jaw as he hammers his cock into your fluttering sheath while your heels dig into his lower back and your fingers knead below his shoulder blades, rapturous pleasure engulfing you with every ferally growled word, until he flings you into a blistering orgasm by moaning, “Will keep making you mine even then. Give you everything—keep you pregnant, protect you and our sweet ones—keep you forever—”

You cry out and arch up under him, rapturous sob catching in your throat as you reach a zenith of bliss that has you clinging in enthralled desperation to him, which snaps the tether of control loose from him and spurs his own fierce orgasm.

Pero moans hoarsely against your neck as he spills his climax deep, cock buried to the hilt inside you as he holds you possessively to him and hums soothingly at your loving nuzzles and whispered words of, “Te amo, precioso.”

Huskily, he rumbles, “Te amo y te adoro con todo que tengo, mi alma.”

You sigh wistfully at his words and melt further under him, reveling in the decadent bloom of warmth that diffuses through you. 

The crackling of the fire is the only other sound of consequence over the ragged, shallow breaths you’re both trying to steady into calm once more while you come down from the soul-shattering lovemaking. 

“Pero...?”

“Hm?”

“Would you still love me if I became plump and had little ones constantly hanging on my skirts?” you whisper meekly, hands languidly caressing along his sweaty back. “And if I even became shit at fighting?”

“That’s impossible, tigresita,” he laconically rumbles against your neck. At your fretful hum, he props himself up in order to loom over you and give you his steely, no-nonsense stare. “I started to love you when I thought you were an awkward, short soldadito, my love. I think it’s safe to say I’ll love every version of you to come,” is his bass-filled retort, sincere affection not dulled by the humor of his tone. 

You press your forehead to his, appeased.

He pulls out of your now tender cunt, and avidly watches his seed begin to drip in his wake, so he scoops his fingers to prevent it from spilling further, and pushes the pearly essence back into you. 

You shiver and sigh, resting a hand over your womb while you caress his shoulder with the other as you shut your eyes in the moment of blissful tranquility, post-coitus.

“I just hope I make a worthy enough father.”

You don’t mean to snort, but you do. “You will, mi amor. The real concern is whether we’ll be able to muster the stamina to work on the farm chores and fuck like this until you put a baby in me,” is your vivacious chuckle as you hook your arm around his shoulders to guide him back down to lie on top of you while he scoffs irreverently at you. 

“I have plenty of stamina, always,” he purrs against your mouth before brushing his lips against it.

“Good. I yearn to be ravished by you daily, after all, so you’ll need it,” is your alluring coo before kissing him amorously. 

You only break the kiss to bat your lashes at him before susurrating, “I want you to make me yours again and again, until dawn comes, and then all over again, precioso.” 

He chuckles that deep, gravelly laugh before crooning melodically, “As you wish, mi amada.”

_____________________________

Spanish-English Glossary:

Caldero = Cauldron, for cooking over a hot flame

Condesa = Countess; a woman of nobility

Tigresita = Tiger Lilly; little tigress

Bueno = So; also ‘Good’ or ‘Well’

Guerrero = Warrior (male)

Mi amada = My beloved (female)

Mi marido = My husband

Bebita = Little baby (female)

No me tortures, por favor = Don’t torture me, please

Mi tigresita valiente = My valient little tigress

Tentador = Tempter (male)

Esposa = Wife

Mi amor = My love

Mujer = Woman

Ternura = Tenderness; akin to saying ‘sweetheart’

Precioso = Precious (male); gorgeous one

No seas tan gallardo, y come = Don’t be so gallant and eat

No seas tan porfiada y come, condesa = Don’t be so stubborn and eat, countess

Travieso = Naughty/Mischievous boy

Misericordia, mujer - Mercy, woman

Que malo = So bad (male)

La pobrecita = The poor little thing; poor little girl

Por favor, mi amor, dámelo = Please, my love, give it to me

Cristo amado = Christ beloved

Amada = Beloved

Ah, D-Dios mío = Oh, my God

Nobleza = Nobility

Mi guerrero obstinado = My obstinate warrior 

Mi alma = My soul; passionate term of endearment that eludes to the profound love someone feels, aka to the soul

Te amo, precioso = I love you, precious boy

Te amo y te adoro con todo que tengo, mi alma = I love and I adore you with all I have, my soul

Soldadito = Little soldier (male)

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful.

Taglist:

@redsilentwolf28 | @just-here-for-the-moment | @mandosmistress | @sarahjkl82-blog | @knittingqueen13 | @mamacitapascal | @hylasposts | @hnt-escape | @eri16 | @gracie7209 | @casssiopeia | @athalien | @qwertymx | @rosiefridayrogersunday | @pascalesque | @maknimuk1 | @kirsteng42 | @greeneyedblondie44 | @littlemisspascal | @southotheborder | @rosegxoxo | @in-for-a-pennyx | @dolly-on-the-dotted-line | @harriedandharassed | @deadhumourist | @trickstersp8 | @pedropascalsx​ | @flowersandpotplantsandsunshine | @angstylittlepascal | @mrsparknuts

[carnivorousyandeere]

Yandere Witch x Reader

CW: Reader Death, Reader Nudity (Bath)

Gender neutral reader, yandere is referred to with they/them pronouns but does not have a set gender/name yet

Not nsfw but it is kinda violent so I’d prefer it if minors didn’t read/like/reblog.

This is my first time writing this sort of thing. Sorry if the formatting is off, Tumblr Mobile is kinda weird lol

(Please Blacklist the tag “#ghost reader” if you don’t wanna see this)

🥀 It was an early morning in early spring, when frost still covered the ground some mornings, that you woke to find your bed cold with the absence of your partner.

🥀 You yawned and got up to look for them, drawing a blanket around yourself. They were outside, digging in the garden soil outside of the house.

🥀 “So sorry I woke you, my love,” they said, wiping sweat from their forehead and leaving a trail of dirt in its wake. The smile they gave you was entirely too bright for so early in the morning, warming you more than the barely-risen sun could. “I’m just renewing some of the wards before the earth wakes again.”

🥀 You assured them it was alright, and offered to make something warm to drink for the both of you. They smiled again, eyes twinkling up at you from where they kneeled in the garden. “I’ll be inside in just a bit. Maybe we can make breakfast together~”

🥀 You hummed in assent, going back into the cottage to get everything started for the morning.

🥀 You and the Witch had been dating for a while. You almost couldn’t believe it, to be honest. They were so gentle, kind, and patient— everything you might look for in an ideal partner. Not to mention their looks; dark hair and eyes, and a dorky lopsided little grin that they reserved just for you… You felt so lucky, thinking of the time spent together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🥀 The days went by quickly, as the last creeping chills of winter finally gave way to birdsong and the greenery of spring. The vernal equinox came and went, as the forests and meadows filled with flowers and insects and animals.

🥀 The Witch continued to work hard day by day, tending to the garden, gathering ingredients from the woods, and making tinctures for nearby villages.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🥀 Before too long, spring warmed into a blessedly mild summer. On one such afternoon, your Witch asked you to come with them for a date; a picnic in a nearby meadow.

🥀 “You don’t have to worry about, um, bugs and mosquitos and such, I’ve got a spell…” They rambled on a bit. Despite having been together for some time, their face flushed just as much as it had the first time they’d asked you out. You giggled, linking your arm with theirs and telling them to lead the way.

🥀 And lead they did— to a breathtakingly beautiful clearing in the forest. The last golden rays of the sun filtered through the trees as you set up the blanket and ate together. You talked and laughed up a storm, admiring the flowers and trees around.

🥀 Eventually, the food was all eaten and the mood mellowed. Nighttime swept gently over, bringing fireflies out along with the calming hum of crickets.

🥀 You moved the picnic basket to the side, and laid on the blanket to look up at the sky. “Tell me some about the stars?” You asked your Witch.

🥀 They protested that astrology was not their strong suit, but still laid next to you, and began to point to different constellations and tell their stories. Some beautiful, some tragic, many a mixture of both.

🥀 Eventually they trailed off and the two of you rested in that comfortable silence. No words, just the crickets’ hum.

🥀 “…what do you think about marriage?” They asked. Your heart leaped into your throat and you turned to look at them. But they didn’t look back, gaze fixed resolutely on the moon crawling ever-so-slowly overhead, as if they were scared of what your gaze might reflect back to them.

🥀 “I-I’m not sure…” You couldn’t say you hadn’t thought about it— of course you had! But you’d never really talked about it before, and the muggy, balmy midnight air seemed to cloud your head, and you couldn’t quite find the right words to express your feelings...

🥀 They hummed in acknowledgment.

🥀 Silence stretched between the two of you again, although this time was much less comfortable. You could feel the tension on the back of your throat, heavy and sickly. Until they broke the silence.

🥀 “You know… I’ve been thinking about regrets a lot lately. What I might… regret doing, or not doing, when my life comes to a close. As somebody who works with the cycles of the earth, I know I shouldn’t fear death, but… I can’t help but worry sometimes. There’s just the most peculiar feeling that…” They trailed off, finally turning their head to look at you.

🥀 You stared at one another, their gaze unusually sharp and pensive. “There’s this feeling… Hmm. I don’t know. I guess that I’m scared to die— the uncertainty of it all. It could be quite painful.”

🥀 “If you had to guess, what do you think would be the best way to die?”

🥀 Despite the lingering summer warmth, you couldn’t help but shiver as a clammy breeze brushed past. The tension in your throat settled low, curdling in your gut.

🥀 “Oh, I’m sorry my dear. I didn’t mean to frighten you… I suppose that was a rather serious topic to bring up out of the blue. Here.” They lifted you to lay on their chest easily, hand coming up to stroke the back of your neck.

🥀 “No, it’s fine,” you breathed, shivering again from the light touch of their fingers down your neck and and back. You whispered your answer to their question, face buried in the crook of their neck. You considered your next words carefully.

🥀 “You’re not… sick, or anything, are you?” You asked. You were no stranger to late-night morbid conversations with your Witch, but their demeanor this time around was different.

🥀 “Huh? Oh, no, my dear! I didn’t mean to make it sound like… like I’m on death’s door or anything like that. I’m so sorry for worrying you my love, my brain just got the better of me tonight.”

🥀 They pressed kisses to the top of your head in apology, running their hands comfortingly up and down your back and arms.

🥀 “Hmm…” they looked at the moon again, hanging higher in the sky than before. “I think it’s about time we head back, darling. Here, let me carry you.”

🥀 You dozed in their arms as they walked back, bundled up in the picnic blanket. They tucked you into bed when you got back and held you until you fell into deep sleep. When you woke, they were outside, working in the garden.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🥀 They seemed… more distant after that, perhaps worried that they had moved too fast with the marriage talk. Or maybe… they really were sick, and trying to hide it as long as they could. You pushed the thought away whenever it popped up. Surely they would come to you with something so important?

🥀You would often spot them pacing the edge of the property, even after all the other work for the day was done. The cottage felt much less alive in their increasingly frequent absences.

🥀 Even when they were home, they were much more closed off. Their sweet, dorky smiles that you loved so much became rarer as time wore on, no matter how you tried to cheer them up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🥀 Summer ripened into autumn, golden and crisp.

🥀 Your beloved Witch seemed to spend all of their time working now. You wanted to support them, but the way they had been holding you at arm’s length for months finally got to you. You broke down and cried when they got back from delivering potions one day.

🥀 Their tired eyes filled with panic as you begged for an explanation, asking if you had done something wrong, if they still loved you… if maybe they had found someone else along their delivery route they liked more…?

🥀 “No, no, please, baby! I love you so so much. Everything I’m doing is for us! You’ll see. I’m so sorry baby, I didn’t realize you felt like this…”

🥀 They drew you a bath, with flowers and fine soaps in it, carefully washing you, reassuring you of their love. You wanted to enjoy it, but their once-comforting words and soft touches felt hollow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🥀 The fall did not stay crisp and beautiful forever. Torrential rains washed away the colorful foliage, leaving a grey and foggy landscape in their wake.

🥀 You and your Witch’s relationship was not at its best, but as Samhain approached, their spirits seemed to lift and it was easier to talk with them.

🥀 Their eyes began to sparkle again, though the bags under their eyes made their smiles feel more manic than genuine.

🥀 All the same, you were relieved to see glimpses of the kind, excitable soul you’d fallen for originally. Hope and affection bloomed in your heart anew.

🥀 They began to have more time to spend with you and take you on dates. If ever you asked them about work, they would brush it off, saying that they’ve already done everything they needed to, that now is the time to sit back and enjoy the harvest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🥀 By the time the veil between worlds had thinned, things felt almost normal with your Witch again. You talked and laughed together just like you used to.

🥀 On a particularly cold night, they made a romantic dinner for the both of you. You talked and laughed, and even danced a little that night. You fell asleep, warmer and happier than you had in ages, curled up next to your beloved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🥀 You awoke to terror.

🥀 Your beloved, over you, ensuring that you would die however you said you wanted…

🥀 “This is what you said you wanted, isn’t it?”

🥀 You try to scream but can’t, grabbing at their forearms. Your nails gouged deeply into them.

🥀 They tried to keep a pleasant expression for your sake, but couldn’t help twitching at the pain.

🥀 Their eyes, so determined, bored into your panicked ones as they tried to comfort you.

🥀 “Shh, shhh. I know it’s scary, but everything will be alright… Just trust me…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🥀 When you woke again, it was with great confusion. You felt like you’d had a horrible dream, but you couldn’t quite remember what had happened in it. Your beloved Witch wasn’t in bed.

🥀 All the same, the date night last night had been so wonderful. You felt lighter than air as you glided out to see your partner, working diligently in the garden as they always seemed to.

[ivorydragoness44]

Thackery Binx!cat x Reader: Lost

Word Count: ~540

Warnings: Angst, grief, crying… but they get to hug the cat and the ending is more happy or at least hopeful

Notes: This too started out as an imagine...in theory, but is now an insert reader. Also, I apologize for all of the possible misused ' thou's and such.

Summary: The Reader was a friend of Thackery Binx, but ever since the Sanderson Sisters took Emily Binx so unnaturally, no one knows what has become of Thackery. The Reader visits the witches’ house in their wanderings and finds a black cat.

~~~~ ~~~~

  Early in the morning, when sounds were scarce and even some of the farm animals were still resting peacefully, you were not. Through the long pale grass of the meadow, you walked. You only peered back toward the village once to check for any wandering eyes. Letting your legs carry you onward, your mind itself strayed.

  Could this have been the path that dear sweet Emily took when she was lured by the witch, and too, Thackery Binx? No one had a single answer as what had become of Emily’s older brother, it bothered you.

  Soon, the grassy meadow turned to woodland, and you were surrounded by trees. You walked on carefully until the house of the late Sanderson Sisters came into view as if unveiled by the trees. It was deathly still as if no creature wanted to venture near.

  It had been a few days since that fateful day, and you could not think of anything else. Thackery Binx was such a dear friend of yours and—

  “Aah!”

  The rustle of brush and the movement of something within startled you. Though you let out a breath in relief when you saw what it was.

  “Thou hast given me a fright,” you laughed at the black cat.

  He meowed up at you with the kindest eyes.

  “And what art thou doing over here all alone?” You asked, watching as he approached your legs, rubbing up against your skirt briefly. “Though, who am I to judge? Worry not, I’m not going to enter that house, and I do not think you should either.”

  Taking a seat on a nearby rock, so too did the cat, jumping up to join you.

  “Thou art a sweet one, aren’t you?” You praised, petting the top of his head gently as he nuzzled your palm. “I do not usually walk such a distance from home. Especially into the woods. But I fear that I have been troubled as of late,” you began to explain to the well attentive feline. “Elijah was the last to see my friend, Thackery. He ran off to save his sister, Emily from the three foul witches that lived here……I miss him terribly, and Emily, of course. I do not wish such a fate on anyone.” You paused, feeling the prickle of tears beginning to pool around your eyes. “Oh, I wish Thackery were here,” you sobbed. “How could he disappear? Surely the witches did not have that kind of power.”

  As the tears spilled over, the cat began to mew and nudge you with his head. Taking him up into your arms, you hugged him closely, hearing his soft sounds until your sobs subsided and you collected yourself.

  Looking the cat in the eyes, you said, “You are a great listener.”

  He held eye contact, as if he truly was.

  “How would thou like to live with me? I’ll giveth you a loving home and you can keep away any…critters. How does that sound?”

  The black cat proceeded to meow softly up at you, placing a paw atop your hand.

  “Then it is settled,” you smiled. “Now, all thou needs is a name.”

  Though the cat could not replace your heartache, he could surely comfort you through your time of grief.

~~~~ ~~~~

Thank you for reading!

Reblogs are very much appreciated

[leoamawrites]

“I want to be a flower on a mountain pulling in the sun and the pain and the frustration and creating a meadow. And I want to be that meadow on a windy day, breathing and flowing in love."

12/30/23

I've been spending winter break at my dad's house, which is sitting on a lake in a little town upstate from where I usually live. When I was little, I always wanted a big backyard like the one he has here where I could get lost in my daydreams, do cartwheels, and have a dog in. Then, my dad got this house and I finally had all those possibilities at my disposal, yet I couldn't find anything to daydream about. I didn't even really like the idea of having a dog anymore. I mean, I couldn't even do a cartwheel without hurting my wrists! It's not my fault, I just grew up.

It's been a while since I've been up here and today, we went to a nearby farm to get a pig because my dad wanted to roast a pig for New Years (it was his idea not mine). When I got out of my car, the farm dogs immediately ran up to me, and I just felt how much I had become like my kid self again. I just wanted to keep petting them and wasn't even thinking about how dirty they might be (or about the dead pig to my left). The landlord showed me a pen of puppies afterwards and I really just wanted to adopt one. I was thinking that I wouldn't mind this life of being a farmer.

When we came back home, I spent an hour in the backyard just lying on the edge of the lake watching the lake's surface flow, the clouds move above and past me, and the winter wind give me chills. I felt the weight of nature's beauty like a cat purring on my chest. Then I got up and climbed trees and *tried* to do cartwheels. It hurt but I was whole.

Ever since I started meditating, being mindful, and consuming spiritual creators, I've started enjoying life in this way. I don't care how corny it may sound. A few months ago, I couldn't be in that backyard without feeling consumed by my intrusive thoughts. I needed to be constantly distracted because if I wasn't I would always be trying to predict what would happen next. Spirituality quite literally saved me from insanity.

Sooo... what does this have to do with that little paragraph in the beginning? Taking advantage of the present moment has given me a lot including the ability to enjoy things as simple as car rides down rural roads, where driving past meadows and farms fills me up with the peace I've been looking for for years. But it's also given me the chance to really feel emotions unconditionally.  That means feeling the uncomfortable frustration when the moment isn't what you want it to be.

For years I've dealt with the intense desire to write but simultaneous writer's block. However, I managed to write that little paragraph above by just utilizing those frustrations in order to create something.

The present moment is the only moment that exists. Im learning to choose to make the most of it even if it's not peaceful or perfect.

So, in conclusion, if there's anything you want to do and you could be doing it right now, go do it. Do it the best that you can because that's all you can do.

Happy new years everybody!

+ Some pics of my time at my dad’s :)

[superstarfighter]

We walked about 10 km total today but without any elevation worth mentioning. It was tiring nonetheless, we went shopping and I made dinner. Afterwards I decided to go on another run to explore the two mountains/hills nearby. Once I was on the trail I turned a corner because I couldn't find the right path to where I planned to go. (Spotted two foxes and one black stork 🦊🦊🐦‍⬛)

Continue reading for a short tale about how I got lost for a little while. 😯

For as long as I stayed on trail it was lovely as pictured. However, eventually I drifted off along a meadow with the intention of reaching the top of one hill.

I didn't make it to the top and turned into a forest I felt I shouldn't be in. I somehow found my way back to the meadow and although I could see houses I couldn't find a way to get back to the street or trail (I'd have taken either one of the options).

After a slight increase of panic and about 10-20 min later, I decided to go down a pretty steep way with a few benches on the other end. I had seen those benches yesterday and this morning and pointed them out to my friend. I told her:"See those benches? It's pretty steep behind them but there's the Mühlenberg behind it. Maybe we could go up there."

Well I made it DOWN from there and was happy to be back on a road, NGL.

Strava: https://strava.app.link/v66Gj7OM7zb

[forgottenroisin]

On My Way Home | Roisin & Edmund

The day was crisp and Rose would swear she could smell autumn, if asked. I t seemed to cling to the air, packed earth and moss and mushrooms and decaying leaves, a warm-cool kind of musk that belonged only to the golden-bright glamor of falling leaves. Rose could find something to love in the changing of any season, but this was perhaps her favorite season of all. As summer gave way to fall, there was a kind of new innocence to the earth, she always imagined.

Oh, most saw spring as the time of rebirth, but autumn had its special magic, particularly on rainy days. There was something in the sharp crack of lightning and the low rumble of thunder rolling across skies caressed by crimson leaves that felt fresh and bright in a way no other season could quite capture. Yes, spring was a return, but autumn was a rebirth, utterly new and wild and untamed.

Today threanted to be just that kind of day -- all sky-splitting storms, but there was a thrill to that which enchanted Rose, merely making her wish to relish it and, in some wild part of her heart, to be out in it. As a result, she busied herself with plucking summer's final offerings: the wildflowers that volunteered in the meadows of the Malconaire estate. Rough winds rolled them away, sweeping a world of petals across the meadow and, in her way, Rose smiled to watch them whirl away, a feral dance amongst the high-growing grasses.

Laughing, Rose tucked the bouquet against her chest, pulling her cloak tenderly around them in the hopes that they would not be stripped of all their petals before she reached the shelter of the house, and darted for it. Her skirts and cape swirled all around her and Rose found herself laughing once again, half running, half leaping. Rain was pelting from the skies now in large, heavy drops as she hurled herself in the door, surprising a nearby chicken who squawked and flapped her wings most indignantly.

"Well, what did you expect?" she said merrily to the fowl. "I think I blew in just as much as I ran, and I can't fly any more than you can."

Smirking, she popped the bundle of flowers into a vase, already half filled with water, and turned towards the window to watch the storm...in time see a reflection in it. Gasping and whirling around, she seized the vase, ready to smash it, only to come face to face with Edmund.

"Oh! It's you!" Quickly, she deposited the pottery back on the shelf and laughing, shook her head. "I thought you were a thief. I was about to attack you with that. Terribly formidable of me, I know," laughed Rose, arching her brows, and realizing he had probably seen her address the chicken. She smirked, shrugged. "Never a dull moment, is there? I can't imagine you've received such a reception in any other household, today, have you? I do so love to make an impression."

[iammythmaker]

“Blue flowers” for @foxtober

When Kotallo saw a blue blanket of flowers with sunny centers, he sighed in surprise. Kotallo loved the color blue: he said that this color reminds him of Sky in his house.

The romantic side of Kotallo could not pass by this place.

He gently laid her on the warm

ground after a hot day, kissing her reddish,freckled cheeks. She gave in easily and kissed his perfect lips.

Smiling slyly, Kotallo whispered at her lips:

"When was the last time you lay in the middle of a meadow?"

She frowned and looked around the completely clean and serene field of flowers, colliding with the evening sky closer to the horizon.

Really. When?

"Fifteen minutes, Aloy. Enjoy it"

She lay down and froze and lay still, analyzing all her feelings.

“Just breathe, love.”

It was so simple and complicated at the same time. Just lie there and breathe. Aloy couldn't say for sure when she had done it last. Carelessly. Without thoughts. Just taking your time. Look at the sky shimmering with evening haze.

There was still time before Nemesis.

The fingers of her right hand felt something magical. They lazily touched the silk petals of meadow flowers, fingered thin blades of grass.

Sometimes she dug her fingertips into the soft, fertile soil.

She took a deep breath of the gentle meadow air, followed with her eyes the soft light of a firefly dancing in a spiral around her face.

She closed her eyes blissfully.

She smiled and with her left hand felt the pigtail of the man lying with the jack and pulled it, teasing the big tenact more.

At the same time, she felt as if she was touchin thunderjaw by the tail with impunity. It was really like that.

Kotallo gasped noisily and grinned.

"You were enough for exactly five minutes. And I'm not pulling your hair."

She smiled broadly, playing with his many braids. The striking contrast between the feeling of the softness of the earth and the night, gently scented flowers and the smoothness of the bone and stone beads in his hair made her purr blissfully.

But maybe that was Kotallo's fault, too. His firm presence nearby, warmth and tenderness gave something different, incommensurable in simple words, a feeling.

Be here. Breathe next to him. Listen to her heartbeat and swear in her thoughts that she hears the measured beating of his strong and big barbaric heart.

She relaxed into his caress while he gently fingered the strands of her hair like silk ribbons.

Kotallo often said that her hair is a pure soft flame that can be stroked and passed through her fingers without fear.

She couldn't resist, and hiding a laugh, said:

"Sometimes I think you like my hair more than me."

"You are as accurate as ever in your conclusions," Tenakth noted with a slight irony. She pulled his braids again, harder this time. He breathed her name reproachfully. "Aloy."

"Yes?" she asked quietly.

"Another ten minutes. Breathe."

"Good."

"My impatient huntress. We have nowhere to hurry. Do you remember?"

There was contentment in his tone and she could feel his smile. The one that was just for her.

And she believed every word he said.

In fact, she was ready to lie there for an eternity. With the man who loved her that calm and quiet cradle of lights. He loved her so desperately, wildly and passionately, as if there was no one else in this world.

Among the flowers, herbs and sparks of the darkening sky. She smiled back at him, knowing that he would feel the same.

Even with her eyes closed, she knew the secret:

«Nemesis is still a long way off. Nemesis will be defeated.»

Twilight descend like a silk veil on their skin.

[itsautomaticfaegirl]

Sunlit meadows and birds welcoming Springtime

🌱🪷🖼️🌿

Source: @itsautomaticfaegirl

[floram00nfics]

May I request Longan Dragon Cookie X reader? Fluff? Where they had found reader in a nearby village and was a poet, and was intrigued by their poetry and wanted to take their hand in marriage?

Here you go!

Will you marry me?

Longan Dragon CookiexReader

Word Count: 415 words

Reader Pov:

The day is...still. But not like a stream, but more of something about to happen. I'm not sure I could put a finger on what it could be. Maybe I should write a bit, it should help me relax. Either way, I could feel that something big will happen.

Longan POV:

Today will be the day that I propose to my beloved. To be quite honest, I wanted to marry them since the day we met. It's been almost 2 years since that day, so I think it's only appropriate to ask them for their hand in marriage. I sent them a letter asking for them to meet me at the meadow we first met.

Reader POV:

As I sat at my table enjoying a nice cup of tea and writing a haiku, a dove flew through my window and dropped a letter. I carefully opened the envelope and read the letter inside it.

"Dearest _____ Cookie,

Meet me at the wild flower meadow. There is something important I need to tell you.

From, Longan Dragon"

Oh Longan, although they are a cookie of few words, this must be very important. I get up and leave my house to start going to the meeting place. On the way there, I decided to write a poem about my love for Longan.

Longan's POV

I'm here, and I have everything ready. Oddly enough, I feel nervous. I tell myself to calm down, the worst case scenario would be they say no. But that is not likely to happen. At least, I hope it doesn't. Eventually, I see them start walking towards me, and I quickly rehearse what I want to say in my mind.

Reader POV:

I finally arrived at the wildflower meadow Longan told me to meet them at, and I felt nostalgic. This was where we fish met, and this was where we confessed our emotions to each other. I see them and run over to them.

"Hello darling!" I chirp my greeting to my love. I see them turn to me and smile. Then, they start to speak. "My dearest _____ Cookie, ever since we met, I knew that I wanted to be with you. After we got together, this just became a fact. And I was wondering, will you marry me?" I look at them for a moment, then I shriek with joy. "Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!" I exclaim. We hold each other in our arms, and kiss.

[twisted-tales-of-all]

Bittersweet Memories

Summary: Sometimes, you have to go back to the place it all began, to relive what once was. Pairing: Baek Juho x OC Genre: Angst, One-Shot, Collab/Event Tropes: Fantasy!AU, Faun!idol, tennyo!OC, strangers to lovers to strangers Word Count: 1.3K Contains: circular storytelling, flashbacks (anything italicized is a flashback), one mention of suggestive content (no details), lots of angst A/N: Fantasy, I apologize in advance for what I've done to the poor sweetheart. This was what instantly came to mind when presented with the Mocha Madness event. Also, Ceres is a likeness to the titular character of an anime I adored way back in middle school titled Ayashi No Ceres.

"Can I get a mochaccino, Cupid?" The faun man orders as calmly as usual, adding, "Make it a double. I need a pick-me-up."

After placing the coins on the counter, Zuho makes his way to his usual table. Pulling his chair out, he sits down, carefully swinging his tail behind him to avoid sitting on it. Placing an elbow on the dark mahogany table, he rests his chin on his palm as he stares at the empty chair in front of him, zoning out into his own little world.

"Can I try the house coffee? It's my first time here."

Hearing a shy but angelic voice, he lifts his head to see her. More beautiful than most creatures who frequent the cafe, her long, healthy black hair flowing freely down her back and her beautiful blue silk kimono makes her appear heavenly to the lone faun sitting nearby. Seeing Zuho's gaze on the newcomer, Cupid points the lady in his direction and suggests him as a kind regular.

Thanking Cupid and paying for her drink, the captivating stranger approaches Zuho and asks whether she could sit with him. Moving his latte closer to himself, he motions to the chair as words betray him by failing to leave his lips entirely.

"Thank you. I hear you're a regular. I'm new around here and qould love a guide, if you're so willing."

"Sure, I would be happy to help. My name is Zuho."

Shining a smile that can cure any ailments, she responds, "Nice to meet you, Zuho. My name is Cerea. I'm a tennin - or a tennyo, more specifically - and I've wanted to roam earth for a bit now but was scared. It's nice to know somebody is willing to help lead me in good directions."

"A tennyo - no wonder you're so beautiful. I'm a faun, as you may be able to guess." He gestures around himself to show off his horns, tail, and hooves. "Although I'm often confused for a satyr since we're distant cousins in looks."

As he learns more about Ceres, he finds that her beauty goes beyond her style and appearance. Feeling her kindness in every word, Zuho befriends her quickly, establishing the next time to meet.

"Here you go, Zu." Cupid places the glass mug in front of the faun, bringing him back to reality momentarily.

"Thanks, Cupid. I really need it today."

Patting the man on the back, Cupid returns to the counter with hopes that the strength of the drink will help his friend return to his usual chipper self.

As he takes a sip, Zuho remembers the day he began dating Ceres - a time now as bittersweet in his mind as the drink hitting his tongue.

For the first time, they meet outside of the cafe. Bringing Zuho to a nice, calm meadow outside of the city, Ceres beams over the idea of enjoying one another's company out in nature.

Most of the date, they sit next to each other on the grass silently, gazing at the flowers swaying in the light wind or viewing the clouds floating lazily against the azure sky. After a while, Zuho turns to admire Ceres.

Feeling his gaze after a few minutes, Ceres turns towards him. His loving eyes bring a soft smile to her lips. Her dark hair contrasting the colorful surroundings, Zuho brushes a loose strand behind her shoulder, letting it sway in the wind alongside the flowers.

"Ceres," He starts, his gaze shifting around her. "Would you like to date?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Ceres leans in, cupping her partner's face to kiss his nose in acceptance.

Putting the cup back onto the table, Zuho feels the tears welling up in his throat. Bending forward and placing his forehead next to the glass, the faun's tail swipes furiously behind him as his emotions overwhelm him. Looking on from the counter, Cupid feels the pang of heartbreak seep into his heart, remembering how well the couple got along until yesterday's incident. As Zuho lets his tears fall onto the wood, a montage of happy moments runs through his mind, only to be squashed by the memory of yesterday.

Kissing feels like visiting heaven. Her hugs are a warm embrace, even on the coldest winter days. A smile in his direction brightens his whole day. Her voice rings in his ears like his favorite bard's most uplifting tune, her laugh like the twinkling bells that ding in the markets.

Zuho is head over hooves for Ceres.

She feels the same way - it's obvious to everyone around them, even if she never says so. Heavens forbid, she even debates herself silently on whether or not to give him her celestial robes to take him as her husband. As far as anyone can see, this tennyo and faun are a representation of the truest form of love. The bards have written songs based on their shows of affection, the scholars have noted their actions for future generations to look upon as proof of love's existence. As innocent as the two of them are, planning to propose to one another in a worthwhile way without letting the other catch on to their schemes, the entire city supports them at this point. Everyone felt their love brighten the town.

It was all going splendidly until one day ago - the day tragedy struck. As Ceres bathes in a secluded pond, preparing herself to hand over her robes, but those exact robes are stolen from the branch she placed them upon. In a massive fit of jealousy, a lonely goblin learned about the tennin conditions for marriage and took it upon himself to snatch the opportunity to secure an eye-catching bride.

Despite outrage from everyone in the city, Ceres cannot disobey the laws of her kind. Bawling her eyes out, she begrudgingly follows the goblin to his home. Zuho, upon learning of the travesty, follows, losing sanity as he begs and pleads at their feet. He offers up anything and everything he owns to the goblin in a desperate attempt to earn the hagoromo for himself, but the goblin doesn't budge - rather, he enjoys seeing the faun dirtying his fur to beg him for the item.

He slams the door to his small abode in Zuho's face with an evil smile. Unable to muster the energy to return to the city, Zuho stays on the ground for hours and hears them finalize the marriage. With that final step complete, Zuho feels his heart snap into a million pieces, falling upon the loose dirt in front of the home.

As his tears slow, he wonders whether he stalled too long to ask Ceres to marry him. At this point, he feels as if the gods must be spiting him for some reason. Wondering what he could've done to deserve the torture he received, he lifts his head from the table to see a cookie sitting on a napkin next to his drink. He looks over to Cupid, who is busy cleaning mugs. Silently thanking his friend, he wipes away the remaining tears and takes a big bite of the cookie.

Although certain he hasn't had one before, the cookie tastes oddly familiar - sweet with touches of familiar magic mixed into the cinnamon and sugar. He closes his eyes as he takes another bite, savoring the flavor in an attempt to identify the source of the familiarity.

Suddenly, an all too familiar voice graces his ears. As if he traveled back in time, he opens his eyes to find Ceres talking to Cupid at the counter, in the same blue silk from the first time he laid eyes on her. Even the cookie has disappeared from his hand, and the mocha is replaced by a latte.

"Can I try the house coffee? It's my first time here."

[monstiemiru]

SDV Cloud Meadow/Monster Musume Au

I'm super excited for Stardew Valley 1.6 update that's coming next month so have some brain rot! (Note that Cloud Meadow is a adult game, so kids shouldn't go googling that). This is mainly just bullet point thoughts and stuff about my favorite trio! No actual NSFW or anything like that, just general stuff.

I'm just gonna call this The Stardew Ranch Au. I'll tag it as SDR.

If you're not familiar with Cloud Meadow or Monster Musume: most of the characters will be "monsters". Usually their looks will be mix of human and animal parts like a satyr or centaur for example. They act mainly human, but can have animalistic or monstrous tendencies.

In Cloud Meadow and Monster Musume monsters can live with people. In this case they live on a ranch. Farm monsters are housed in fancy barns.

Sam

100% a dogboy! He's a a golden retriever and german sheperd mix, perfect for the Ranch. His pawlike arms and legs are covered in blonde hair. He also has a blonde dog tail and ears. He's kind of short when compared to other monsters on the ranch.

Always first one to meet any new people or monsters on the farm

He can usually be found playing around with Abigail and Sebastian

Loves to follow you around, doesn't matter if you're a monster or a farmer. Insists that he's working as your guard dog. The holstaurs can look after themselves for a bit.

Please let him sleep with you. He promises he won't take up much space (lie, he will take up all the space)! Honestly Sam would love to sleep in a big pile with you, Sebastian and Abigail.

He also loves getting petted! Please scritch him behind his hears and tell him he's a good boy

Likes pulling pranks with Sebastian and Abigail. They have unofficial prank war going on between them and Vincent and Jas. It's usually harmless, but someone might have to step in now and then.

Sebastian

Sebby is holstaur! He has black fur with white spots on his arms and legs that end in hooves. His hair also has some white stripes in it. He has horns, bull ears and a lil tail to swat things with!

He has relatively small herd that's basically run by Abigail. Heifers (female holstaur) are drawn in by his calm nature, but can be offput when they realize that in the beginning he's very cold.

Sebastian is super slow to warm up to other monsters and farmers. He will warm up faster if he sees you being nice to his herd and friends.

Whenever he takes a nap or goes to sleep he will wake up surrounded by his herd (and Sam). There's no escape, only cuddle pile.

He's not very territorial, but he will defend his herd when needed.

Likes to bring you small gifts now and then, though he will act like it was just a coincidense. He just happened to have an extra apple or knick knack he found. This purple hair ribbon? Abigail had extra ones and he doesn't need it. Though after he warms up he'll be more open about the gifts.

Has a nose ring due to bad temper when he was younger

Abigail

Also a holstaur! She has purple fur with darker purple spots on her legs and tail. Honestly she looks very similar to Sebby.

Most likely to get into trouble. She loves adventuring in the nearby woods and has challenged bulls bigger than her before. She will ask you to join her on her adventures.

Can be found playing with the kids. They're either butting heads or playing make believe.

She has a habit of headbutting her favorite farmers. Headbutting her back will result in headache due to her much harder skull, but she will appreciate the gesture.

Has a nose ring like Sebby though hers was done in secret with Sam's help.

Will steal extra snacks for her and her bffs.

Will also beg for extra snacks from her favorite farmers.

I'll write more about the ranch au in the future! If you liked these feel free to send asks and stuff about it! Reader and characters can be farmers or monsters! You can also send nsfw asks if you'd like :3

[vixsstxff]

I apologise in advance. Not proof read, if there's mistakes, there's mistakes.

Ayato x Male reader

Tw: Death (you die), murder (of hilichruls)

You shed a tear, knowing that you may never see your precious Ayato again, that you'll never hear his sweet voice, knowing that you were going to leave him all alone to fend for Ayaka and himself. You try to say strong, but your arms are going to give out.

48 hours before:

"Do I HAVE to do this" You say leaning back on your chair. Ayato just signs. "I mean, is it really THAT important? Can't you send on of your little minions to do this?" You grumble. "None of my "minions" are available a this very moment and you are the only other person who can do this while I do my work." You start groaning about how you don't want to do it and how you much rather spend time with him.

"Fineeee, I'll go. Only because you told me to, got it?" You say, rolling your eyes.

24 hours before it happens:

It was freezing, you felt like you were going to die from the coldness. You imagine cuddling Ayato next to a warm fire, you hoped that this commission would've been quick, but no, it had to be located at a freezing place far from your lover. You joked about not coming back home to him, not coming back to find him running up to you and giving you a hug, coming back to him telling you about how much he has missed you dearly. You went silent for a bit, wondering if you would come back to him in one shape.

12 hour before the heart break:

You decided to set up camp next to a large tree, it reminded you of the sacred Sakura tree. You felt so homesick. You missed Ayato so much that you couldn't wait to go back home to your one true love. You look up at the night sky. You could only get a glimpse of the moon before it hid itself behind the grayed clouds. You go into your tent after a little while, deciding that you were going to sleep early so you could get up earlier the next day.

1 hour left:

You made it to the designated location where the commissioner wanted you to be, a nice meadow with nothing around for miles. Weird location, you honestly expected a house or a village nearby, or something nearby. You were an hour early so you go for a walk to kill some time

5 minutes:

You find a hilichrul camp that the commissioner told you about, apparently the hilichruls have been causing trouble for some shipping to come in for an up coming festival. You scope out the hilichrul camp, making sure not to make a single noise so they don't notice you. 9 vs 1 might not be the fairest fight, and even less fair back there's two mitachruls there. Maybe rejecting the Traveller's help was a foolish idea. Luckily you were skilled in the art of the blade and bow so knocking out the smaller hilichruls will be a breeze.

...

You overestimated yourself. Taking out the hilichruls without getting caught wasn't a breeze. How unlucky of you. The mitachruls noticed you picking off the hilichruls when you killed the 6th one. You hid, but you stepped on a twig, giving out your location.

You try to fight back against them.

You shed a tear, knowing that you may never see your precious Ayato again, that you'll never hear his sweet voice, knowing that you were going to leave him all alone to fend for Ayaka and himself. You try to say strong, but your arms are going to give out. You were tried of fighting the Mitachruls, you hoped the would disappear.

All your attention was on the Mitachruls that you forgot about the last hilichrul in the camp. It raised it's crossbow, aimed, and fired. The arrow flew through the air and landed on the side of your chest. You caught off guard by the arrow that you almost forgot about the mitachruls. You couldn't fight anymore.

You were tried. You hoped this would be painless, maybe the mitachrul would have some remorse for you and let you go fast. You start crying, saying 'sorry' to Ayato, maybe he would forgive you for losing. Maybe. You close your eyes when you hear the Mitachrul draw their axe back. You take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. "Please forgive me for this one Ayato..." You heard a swing, then it all went silent.

-End-