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kaeyats · 1 year

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SAGAU,, water park

after the genshin characters (zhongli, xiao, childe, albedo, ei, yae miko, venti, diluc, kaeya, ayaka, ayato, kazuha, aether, paimon, lumine) found a way to leave teyvat and enter earth, you've been bringing them around to experience all the fun things in the modern world. and what's a better place to find some modern fun than in a water park?

reader's gender is not specified, as with most of my works. requests and imagines in my ask box are appreciated, but will take a while. :D

warnings: reader is implied to be rich because this is wish fulfillment and the fic was based on a water park with really expensive tickets so this is the only logical reasoning within the fic, a few suggestive themes because swimsuits (gender neutral) are generally just so, lots of stress and chaos, mentions of alcohol, extreme rides/slides, based on my experiences with water parks in the philippines. these aren't actual warnings and i'm just rambling, aren't i? ^^

perhaps bringing all of them to a public place at the same time wasn't your best idea and considering how chaotic the trip has been so far, it might as well have been your worst. at the moment, you were quite literally looking and acting like a stressed out single parent, chasing around your ten- eleven children. if you counted ei fighting children to the tiny slides being "a child". never in your lifetime did you think you'd have to babysit the uptight and lawful electro archon (you've been her tour guide in-game, but that doesn't count), but here you were, explaining to her how the area with the extremely cheerful colors was indeed meant for kids under 9, not for gods around 2,000. you tried dragging ei into the wave pool, a place acceptable for adults (or at least adult-looking beings), but she didn't seem to want to interact with the deep waters, choosing instead to sit inside your rented cottage and brood after you dragged her away from all the crying children she threatened for cutting the line. the shallow waters of said "kiddy area" were much more appealing to ei, but she's not even allowed to be there anymore. >:((

both yae miko and kaeya had a lot to say about ei's humiliatingly childish actions, although you noticed kaeya being careful with his words, intelligent even in his teasing — ei was still a dangerous being after all. they teased the poor archon's face into a shade similar to diluc's hair and taking pity on ei, you decided to tell them off. the two eventually went away to do more entertaining things (their words), stepping away to lay down under an umbrella's shade with heavily tinted shades and drinking glasses full of soju. you always suspected that those two would get along quite well and seeing their relaxed figures gossiping about everything and anything on sun loungers, it seemed you were right. unfortunately for you though, they found pleasure in targeting you with their teasing, praising your body in swimwear, often cornering you with flirtatious remarks and inappropriate offers.

moving on, you found yourself your own drinking buddy as well. though you and kazuha chose to drink grape juice instead of anything alcoholic, knowing his.. extremely low tolerance. for a few moments, you found peace with kazuha (and the still-brooding archon sitting in the corner of your cottage, now drowning silently in guilt). you two chatted a lot about your world, you told him about every thought that came to mind and he listened to you with an attentiveness that warmed your heart. you always knew kazuha was a wonderful listener and even when you enjoyed the man's tales of traveling, it was nice to have someone who'd give you time and space to talk as well. the free-spirited wanderer tried some slides and rides with the others a while ago, but he found that conversing with you excited his beating heart more.

but of course, peace never had a chance of lasting with your current companions. after a few minutes of complaining about how venti never finished his food and would always leave random chunks in the open, you were approached by a grinning childe. albedo, xiao, aether, and diluc following closely behind him. a strange combination the more you pondered on about it, but that thought flew out your head the moment ajax opened his mouth, "[name]! me and the others are gonna try out the biggest water slide in the place. is that alright with you?"

"sure, if you can handle it.. wait, why are you even asking me about this? aren't you all literal adults...?"

a blush appeared on the harbinger's face, a common sight when he was around you, "ah, yes- just making sure."

"mm. okay, fair. kazu, i'm coming with them, just to make sure they don't murder any staff on the way." you looked over to the man you were previously sitting with, unaware of the jealous looks being thrown at him by the others behind you. he only seemed to shrug, signaling to you that he was rather fine where he was (and would rather not participate in further chaos). knowing who you were with, you empathized with kazuha's decision to stay behind. if only you had the freedom to run away from your "acolytes", but you doubt they'd ever let you get away from them.

while climbing the stairs towards the massive slide, you realized who exactly childe was bringing with him. you were confused to say the least. the traveler and everyone else was an expected group of folk, but all five of them? you never considered them to be close despite the few weeks they've been in your world. and knowing diluc's deep hatred for the fatui, you were surprised him and the ginger even agreed to doing something together. you weren't complaining though, quite curious about their dynamic. you just wondered how and why they even agreed to this. you had no time to ask however as the screams of the poor tourists going down the slide immediately grappled your attention.

had you asked them, you'd have found out that it was originally childe's idea, aether had agreed to go along with it as he does with most things, and the two originally intended to invite zhongli. he was too occupied with an oddly feminine magazine, thinking it was a record of wisdom from your world. so he instead asked the adeptus next to him to go in his stead, encouraging his somewhat son to pursue fun and bonding time with other people. xiao reluctantly agreed, the promise of excitement (god, listening to zhongli talk about the magazine's advice column was boring) and almond tofu afterwards influencing his decision making. realizing that the slide required four people, childe and aether frantically searched for a fourth, the deafening screams of the people who were currently on the slide spurring on the bloodthirsty harbinger even more.

soon enough, they found diluc who seemed to be in deep conversation with a certain chief alchemist. it took a lot for them to convince the winery owner into joining, but after realizing that going on the ride was probably going to impress you, their mighty and benevolent creator, the one who took them in their beautifully decorated home despite the constant hassle they brought, diluc relented and agreed, if only to showcase his bravery and strength.

now here they were, climbing into the giant floatie they were gonna ride down the slide. childe acted with excitement in his every step, he was quite familiar with the hydro element and he's had his fair share of gliding down waterfalls, slides gave about a similar feeling so he wasn't nervous at all — in fact, he was thrilled, almost psychotically so. unlike childe, diluc appeared quite stoic, quite emotionless about the whole ordeal. however, to anyone who paid attention to the tight grip he had on their floatie's handles and the sweat subtly streaming down his face, they would see that his expression of stone couldn't be further from what he was truly feeling. unfortunately for diluc, a cetain snezhnayan noticed, and he was intent on picking on the red-head later. aether felt quite a bit anxious. no kidding, he's faced many dangerous opponents in the past, but water slide physics had never been one of them. he was excited nonetheless, ready to feel the familiar rush of adrenaline flow through his veins. and as for the adeptus, he was rather.. unsure about what he was feeling. he couldn't remember the last time he felt fear, he was probably one of the strongest beings from teyvat, but here, the usage of his powers were prohibited and one couldn't exactly combat a slide. someway, somehow, his heart rate was faster than usual as he felt an unfamiliar emotion bubbling up in his stomach.

"wait, 'bedo, aren't you going to join them?"

"oh no, they only needed four people. i just tagged along to make a few observations." he explained to you, the waterproof camera you bought him a while ago held securely in his hands.

"for research purposes?" you questioned the brilliant alchemist with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"you can say that, but mostly for entertainment."

you smirked at his response. lately, albedo had appeared more human around you and the others. at first, he was so caught up in researching and trying to understand every single thing in your world, he had forgotten to truly take anything in. but recently you found that he finally let himself just enjoy the moment, letting loose in every new scenario he was introduced to.

albedo was chuckling with you when it was finally childe, diluc, xiao, and aether's turn to sway around the circular looking slide. you never pegged diluc to be a screamer, but out of all four of them, his deep baritone voice was the one heard throughout the resort. his body was rigid and visibly in a state of panic as they continued to move in rapid speeds, you were worried he was going to jump off the floatie mid-slide or something, but to your relief, diluc held on throughout the whole ride. you never thought childe would scream as well, but he did scream a bunch (like a pussy) before he started laughing in excitement (and at diluc's facial expressions, ones that albedo were lucky enough to capture). aether was fine for the most part, his vocal reactions mostly ones out of enjoyment. xiao was even more so rigid than diluc, seemingly frozen in place, silently panicking. he looked like he was holding on for his dear life and for a moment, it awakened your protective instincts.

as you descended down the building with albedo to congratulate your boys for being so god damn brave, you were greeted with the sight of the cavalry captain teasing his brother's unexpected reactions and yae along with ei curiously inquiring aether about the ride, considering taking a turn. zhongli didn't look so well, he looked rightfully concerned for his loyal warrior. despite childe's attempts at hyping him up, the former geo archon refused and left to tend to xiao instead, leaving a spot for the cavalry captain to take.

you discovered a lot of things that day. apparently kaeya, unlike his brother, only grunted when faced with extreme fear. yae remained more composed than ei, even finding the breath to make fun of her during the extreme ride. it came as a shock when you heard the electro archon shriek and hiss like a cat while they were sliding down. albedo's reactions were quite emotionless, only ever making a noise around the part where they fall down. diluc tried again a second time and safe to say, his reactions were quite better than the first time, his screams decreasing significantly in volume. you even had a try yourself and you finally understood why your companions reacted the way they did.

ei, yae, kaeya, and albedo made a good quartet, you thought. it eventually came time that they had to close the rides and after all of the screaming and taking turns on different slides, the four had stayed together as a group. curiously joining their conversation, you found that they made a wholesome dynamic — often conversing about the mundane things in life then it escalating to some philosophical thing, all the while sophisticatedly uplifting one another. yae promoted her, uhh, interesting light novels to albedo at some point and you have never seen him look so flabbergasted yet morbidly curious as when yae explained the premises of some of her favorite books. kaeya just laughed at the interaction between the two, a bit tipsy already. he had learned to embrace the insanity that was guuji yae's interest in novelaw a while back when they were talking.

you had wandered shortly after joining their bickering, exploring the little shops around the water park resort. you bought a trinket for every character you had brought with you, somehow always finding something that reminded you of someone. for venti, it was a pair of socks that had blue green stripes wrapped around them. for aether and paimon, you bought three wooden keychains (one for you to match) that had interesting markings. for diluc, you bought more sunscreen because he always looked so sunburnt despite the many times you rubbed sunscreen all over his body. you chuckled to yourself, you were shopping like a cheap grandma on christmas.

you ran into paimon, lumine, ayato, ayaka, and venti shortly afterwards. only then did you realize that you hadn't seen them much the whole day. apparently, they had been enjoying their own little spa-and-shop day with your credit card (god bless its soul). as much as they wanted to spend time with you the whole day, they'd rather abuse the resort side of the water park than add on the list of children you were tasked to babysit.

"i thought after shopping, you'd finally get rid of those blinding speedos, oh dear bard."

"that's what i kept telling him!" chipped in the ever so chatty paimon.

safe to say you got a whole excerpt about how wearing bright yellow speedos to a water park was nothing to be ashamed of. in fact, in venti's own logic, you should be praising his charmingly good looks and drowning him in attention for wearing such seductive and scandalous clothing. ayato was very, uhm, to put it, disturbed by the whole conversation. you caught lumine shooting him a look of pity more than once throughout the bard's ramblings. you did your best to reassure the kamisato siblings not to worry as it was all just harmless banter with the bard. talking came as one tedious task with the anemo archon constantly whining and sputtering out utter bull next to you. you were this close to shoving a bunch of swimwear into his mouth to shut him up.

but alas, the time came that you had to head home and venti's demise had once again slipped away from your hands. you refused to sit near him, instead forcing him to take the car with the annoyed diluc and the entertained childe. if it were any other night, venti probably would've gotten along with the sly ginger, but the harbinger was instead shot down with the brooding bard's remarks about how stupid he looked. your poor personal driver (amongst many other paid drivers) had to tolerate the frustrated banter tossed around by the three as well as a certain paimon joining in only to stoke the fires of their anger. poor aether did his best to ignore them and just stare out of the car window, wishing he had took the car with you and his sister instead.

you sat down in between lumine and ayato, deciding their company was the most pleasant and well, least stressful to deal with. you laughed along the two, updating them on all the escapades that had occurred a while back — a thoroughly flustered xiao glaring at you three from behind you, zhongli next to him excitedly chatting with ayaka about another magazine (meant for teenage girls) he had found inside one of the stores in the water park.

"so that's what me and lumine heard."

"trust me, i was shocked too. albedo looked like he was having a eureka moment."

"somehow i don't think i can view the winery owner in the same lens after this."

overall, you would rate this day 8/10. fun, really fun. you almost died at the sight of your favorite characters in swimsuits, but it would've been a worthy death. the bonding and the rides were all really fun as well. it would've been 10/10 had venti not been flexing his speedos (and ass) to his fellow archons the whole time.

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gatitties · 7 months

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Hi!!

i hope your having a good day/night! I don't know if you're comfortable with writing angst but if you are, can you plases make a fic where zoro dumps y/n really mean and sanji comforts y/n? Thank you!! if you can't its also fine!

─Sanji x reader

─Summary: Hurt by the behavior of one of your companions, Sanji makes his way into your heart to heal it.

─Warnings: zoro is and asshole in this one

I'm fine with writing angs!! but I don't know if I'm good at it, it's not something I usually write a lot 😓

You watched the barely visible waves at night, everyone was already asleep when you decided to go out on the deck to vent your discomfort a little, you didn't want to bother anyone with your problems right now, just release some accumulated bad energy.

Although you ended up diverting your thoughts to all those times Zoro belittled you, looked down on you, and made you feel tiny compared to everyone else, you didn't know the reason for his aggressive behavior towards you when you started out well, but you had to swallow and continue with the dirty looks and passive-aggressive comments towards you.

It began to affect your way of being, you changed some of your aspects because of him, because of his comments, because of the venom he spat in every sentence directed towards you, you did not have the courage or enough strength to return the shit he was doing to you, you decided to sink into your misery slowly, you were not going to change his behavior out of nowhere and if he was not going to give in to have a smooth relationship, you had nothing to do there.

You decided to ignore him and avoid him most of the time, you stopped listening to his comments towards you, his looks, for you he no longer existed and yet, here you are now, shedding hot tears while your mind plays with you, stabbing your heart with all the bad moments you had experienced, squeezing out every last offensive comment. He didn't deserve you, but here you are, thinking of possible solutions to fix a broken relationship when little interest had already been shown, you should have known better.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who couldn't sleep, huh?"

You almost choked on your own saliva, not expecting anyone to show up at this time of night, you sniffled, wiping your eyes, taking too long to turn around and face the blonde who seemed confused by your behavior. He took a drag on his cigarette, deciding not to ask why your eyes were red and swollen.

"Yeah, I couldn't fall asleep, too many thoughts that don't let me sleep."

You partially lied, looking towards the empty sea again, trying to hide your fallen face in a subtle way, although Sanji had already seen everything he needed to see, he sighed leaning on the railing next to you, silence took over the atmosphere for a few minutes that seemed eternal to you, he knew it and you knew that he knew it, but Sanji decided to let you be the one to take the first step as long as you wanted to talk about what was bothering you, he wasn't going to pressure you.

The silence was killing you, even though you weren't being pressured, you were carrying a lot of weight on your shoulders, a lot of bad thoughts and worries. When you looked up you found the cook's profile, he looked back at you, a look full of understanding, patience and softness, a reassuring look, you felt weak when you looked at him.

"I…" you began muttering, he focused all his attention on you, rubbing your shoulders slowly, you felt even worse, letting all the contained emotions spill out again in the form of silent crying "I don't know what to do, I've tried everything, but he doesn't… I don't think- I don't think it works anymore."

You broke right there, breaking into little pieces in front of Sanji, he brought you into a tight hug as he rubbed circles on your back, he didn't say anything as you cried, clinging to him like a lifeline.

"It's okay, everything will be fine, things will get better, I'm here with you."

He whispered softly, trying to calm your sobs and tremors, he waited patiently until you unburdened yourself, he listened to every word, every complaint, every cry, he didn't need to speak so you knew that no matter what happened, he would always be there for you, to kick the shit out of Zoro's moss head, to collect and put back together the pieces of your broken heart, to heal emotional wounds without asking for anything in return.

"Thank you Sanji."

You tightened the hug one last time before separating, your face still had tear marks running down your cheeks, but now your mind was calm and your lips had a slight smile.

"You don't have to thank me for anything, I will always be here if you need me."

He smiled at you once more, softening your heart again, you returned the gesture with a brighter smile, surely you weren't going to forget so easily the pain that Zoro caused you, but at least now you could calm your worries temporarily.

#op #one piece #one piece x reader #strawhats #strawhats x reader #sanji x reader #reader insert #request #sfw #reader is not specified so...#gn reader #male reader #fem reader #x reader #sanji #this could be romantic or platonic...¿#idk

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saradika · 6 months

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— JUST A TASTE

[bleed for me masterlist] | [fic preview]

vampire!boba fett x f!reader

rated e - 8k

tags: vampire!au, blood/blood drinking, vampirism, longing and pining, biting, masturbation, chosen mates (instead of fated mates), teasing, fingering, brief edging, mind-meld, implied aphrodisiacs, piv, marking

a/n: I thought it would be fun to write a halloween one-shot for Boba, in the same world as bleed for me. This is with a different Reader, so there are some references to the series, but you don't have to read to enjoy!

When Fennec Shand appears in town with her new red eyes, everyone knows it’s only a matter of time before the Daimyo will be seeking a new Companion.

Luckily, you think you know just how to make sure he picks you.

Heat still lingers in your neck, your cheeks, as you slip from your tiny cottage to rush to the town square.

Cursing yourself for almost being late to the ceremony - a long table already in place within the old tavern, moved to the middle of the room. The old wood and stone ceiling blocking out the setting sun, making it safe.

He’s there. Your eyes find him right away - all that green against the shades of brown and grey.

The Daimyo.

Positioned at the head of the table, that helmet fixed in place. Looking like a ruler with the way he sits - so strong and straight-backed in the velvet chair, brought out just for him. It sends a shiver up your spine as you slip to the back, to give your own offering.

A small goblet, brought from home. The carvings in the wood smooth, burnished from the press of your fingers over the years. Curving petals worn down at the edges - traced over with your thumb, again and again.

It’s dull, next to all the gold and glass. The candles glinting off the gifts that line the long table - an ache still throbbing in the crook of your elbow, as yours joins the flight of others.

It's warm, in the tavern. Fuller than you've ever seen - bodies packed together. Your back presses against the thick wooden wall, standing on tip-toe to see over the pair in front of you.

Wanting to watch when that helmet lifts.

The tanned skin beneath, those red eyes that flicker in the candlelight. It's a rarity to see him this bare. Something precious that you tuck away, as your eyes rove over every detail.

You think he must be starving, from the dark shadows under his eyes. You can count back two months as to when Lady Shand had stopped walking through the marketplace in the day. Appearing again in her oil-blackened armor - a new, deadly quiet about her.

Everyone had known she would turn.

It had only been a matter of time.

Secrets were hard to keep, in a town as small as this.

You still had some. Others had theirs. Most you did not care about, but when it came to the coven of vampires, in their looming castle at the top of the tall hill - it had always been a fascination.

How beautiful - how benevolent - they are.

A hush settles over the crowd, as the first cup is lifted. Restraint shown in the tip of the glass, the single bobbing swallow of his throat as he drinks.

He could gorge. He could swallow every drop, but there's a carefulness in the way he moves.

Continuing the old tradition of the town - one that the Mand'alor had not followed. But after hearing of his searching - the path that had been so set for him - none of you could begrudge his choice.

The first goblet is placed back down.

His methods are unknown - he had arrived at the castle with Lady Shand by his side, already his Companion.

Would taste from each one?

Or stop, if one is pleasing to him?

Your odds are not in your favor, with the amount of offerings. Nothing stands out about your goblet - you had no gold, no bronze. Only an heirloom and yourself.

Fifth from the end, of a line of people who all had their own reasons to want to uproot their lives. Fortune. Pleasure. Running to something, or running from.

But did any of them see him for who he was? Like you did?

You don’t really care that he was a Daimyo, not really.

He could be anyone - a lesser lord. A commoner, like yourself.

Your wishes would stay the same.

It was what he had done, that had made Boba Fett a fixture in your mind.

To him, perhaps it had been a small thing.

Not worth remembering, in the life of someone who has lived for so long, with such experiences. Barely a blip, compared to the stories you'd heard.

Bounty Hunting and Rancors and Sarlaacs.

But to you, it had meant everything.

He had saved you.

Not in such a way as the Mand'alor had done for his Queen. That sort of saving would be written in song or word, someday, with the way the story was whispered in the streets.

There had been no witches, no fated meetings. No burned towns for Lord Fett to pull you from, to whisk you away to safety. No enemies torn apart, in revenge.

But it had been no less chivalrous.

It had been early in the day, and luckily so. Mid-morning and he would not have been out, not with what he was.

A few weeks into Spring, when your little stall in the market should have been blooming with your home-grown flowers, baskets of vegetables from your leased garden.

A late frost and a family of hungry rabbits had you far behind. On goods to sell and your payment for your use of the space. The few coins you had from the week before clutched in your fist as Lord Gorian Shard had loomed over you, demanding more than what you could spare.

Cutting down your promises to pay him back, if you could just have another week - a day, even. Deaf to your pleas.

You knew what you owed, but it hadn't been fair. Everyone knew he charged far too much for his stalls. But you had been desperate then, almost as much as you had been now.

A shadow had loomed, as every last silver and copper had been shaken from your coin purse. Tucked away into deep pockets, the pitiful amount added to what he already carried.

"Is there an issue here, Shard?"

The voice had cut through the morning haze was one you thought of often, the low timber. Slicing, like a knife.

You're sure you looked pathetic. Shard's hand gripping your forearm, pinching. The half-filled stall, the dust covering your tunic - swiped across your forehead from the back of your hand, while setting up.

But, the grip had loosened. And for the first time, the Merchant had lost some of his aloof, elitist air. A flash of worry crossing his features, as a Mandalorian had approached from the shadows.

His face had been covered, since dawn had broken - but there had been no mistaking him.

Boba Fett.

"No issue, my lord." Gorian Shard had smiled, his voice changing from the sharp tone he had used with you, "Just business, I assure you. Far too small for someone as busy as yourself, I'm sure."

There was a rough buzz from the helmet, the sound of a hum.

"How much more is owed?"

It became clear he had been listening. You hadn't looked to the shadows, and your heart had sunk. Embarrassment creeping around you, tightening like vines around your ribs.

“Fifty more gold." Shard had sniffed, making a show of checking his pockets.

Another hum, "A little early to be collecting payments, isn't? The quarter isn't for another month."

Shard had frowned, "I collect monthly, thank you."

Silence lingered then, for a moment too long. That worn green helmet flicked you way - your eyes only able to hold it for a moment, before they dropped. Examining the worn toes of your boots, wondering what he must think of you.

"Give us a moment."

You had thought he meant you - getting ready to step away, to give them some space.

Not expecting the helmet to snap towards the Merchant, as another order was growled out, "Did you not hear me, Shard?"

He had been too happy to oblige, quickly finding another debtor three stalls over.

You had also not expected the soft pouch of leather to be held out, pressed into your hands from Lord Fett's own belt.

Far heavier than your own, and you had immediately found the strength to meet his gaze again - to hand the gift back.

"I can't accept this." You had protested, "It is far too much, I can't pay this back."

He had considered you, for a long moment. You had wished you could see his face - your own reflected back at you. Pinched and worried and tired.

Pivoting gracefully, as he turned to look at your stall, "If you will not accept my help, then I wish to purchase your stock. Everything you have."

It's an out, for you. Another gift, a way to accept with what little dignity you had left intact.

Even if you were both aware that he had no use for your ware. That vampires did not dine on the food of humans. That the kitchens within the castle were already stocked with the finest goods available.

The gold had been offered, again. His voice low - almost gentle.

"Please do me this honor, my lady."

This bit of kindness, his voice, his honorifics - as if your presence had meant something, as if he truly considered this a favor to him - had stunned you. Enough that you had allowed him to press the pouch into your hand.

Enough that you had allowed the woman that had stepped to his side to pack up the flowers, the vegetables. Every single piece until your stall was as empty as it was, when you had arrived that morning.

Shard had watched, with narrowed eyes.

But - your debt had been paid. This month, and then the next. And then the next.

You began to look forward to his visits. Not for the gold, of course, but for him. The snippets of conversation - the solemn way he checked on you, the low timbre of his voice.

“Have you been treated well?”

“Is this enough?”

You’re sure you had looked foolish. Ankles crossing as you leaned across the booth. Trying to hide your smile but failing, as you protested. A game, you had played.

Always the same questions, the same answers.

“I can’t stop you from buying my wares… but I don’t want a copper more, my Lord.”

His fingers tapping twice on the wooden stall, before his reply.

“As you wish.”

Boba's kindness had changed your life.

The coin used to buy better seeds. Your little, rented home slowly filling out with warm bedding and good food and sturdy clothes - things you had always scrambled to find. Luxuries, before now.

And for a while, you had entertained the thought of leaving town. Saving up every gold piece, starting a new life.

You almost had enough.

But that had been before Lady Shand had turned. Before the rumors had spread that Boba Fett would be seeking a new Companion.

Your heart had twisted, with the news.

Jealousy. Longing.

It could be you.

He had become a fixture in your mind. Your evenings filled with daydreams. Keeping you company as you worked, dirt caking under your fingernails, as you imagined another life.

You could pay him back, in a ways. Show him how grateful you were, offering your blood - yourself - in exchange. You never would have dared hope before but this… this was worth trying, wasn’t it?

So, you did something risky.

Hoping it would pay off.

Hoping that perhaps… your feelings were not so singular.

It feels like you're holding your breath, as Boba moves down the table. Those cups handed over so carefully. That same, single taste from each one.

There's a tick of his jaw, at some. A pink peek of tongue dragging over a lower lip. No tells in his expression, no indication on where his mind leads.

And then, finally - he's at yours.

The wooden goblet hefted in his hand, his thumb brushing unconsciously over the etchings, like yours always did. Your fingernails biting into your palms, your heart pounding in your ears, an ache settling low in your belly - much like the one before, as you had been preparing.

And with the tip of a hand, he drinks.

The goblet lowers, as he swallows. A waver of his hand, as makes to set it back down to rejoin the others.

But then.... he pauses.

A lift of his brow, a slow tilt back - as he indulges in a second.

Before his eyes are sweeping across the room. Halting, when they find yours. The smallest lift of his lips, with his look of knowing.

Your cheeks burn, as he chooses you.

Everything happens so quickly.

Before you know it, you’re hoisted into a horse - whisked off to the castle that looms at the top of the hill. A promise to bring your things to you, though you’re sure it would take less than a wagonful.

Barely able to glance down the long halls, the ornate, stained glass windows, before there’s a hand at your elbow, guiding you.

A woman, younger than you. Quelling some of the unease at being in a new place with her gentle tone, as she takes you deep into the castle - up a wide stone staircase, through an ornate wooden door, and into a room.

It doesn’t appear to be his room, and you don’t know if you’re relieved or disappointed.

Bathed in shades of green and red and gold. Dark velvet curtains against the closed windows, blocking out the last rays of the sun.

Your guide parts from you here, a murmur that the ceremony will begin at sundown - that she will be back then to help you get ready.

Leaving you on your own to explore the space, until then.

A tall bed takes up the middle of the back wall, the frame a dark, carved wood. Thick blankets in tones of ivory and a rich forest green, lit candles on the wooden tables on either side.

There’s long wardrobe against the wall, the mirror glinting in the light. A ceramic vase painted with swirls of copper, roses and wildflowers spilling over the brim.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that some of the flowers almost looked familiar.

A door is half-opened to the left, next to the fireplace, the velvet chaise sitting in front of it. Already a thought lingers about how cozy the space will be in the winter, as you pad over to glance into the next room.

It’s all ceramic tile inside, opening up to a bathroom, The claw-foot copper tub filling with steaming water, and you long to slip into it, to wash the morning’s dirt from your knees.

And so, you do.

Your stripped clothes lie in a pile on the floor. A pleased hiss as you step into the water, the temperature tipping towards too hot. Sinking deep, up to your chin, as your head tips back against the rim.

It gives you time to think, as you all but float in the water.

Giddy, at the replay of the afternoon. That it had worked.

The way he had gone back, an indulgence. He had liked it - the taste of you - and that thought was thrilling.

A warmth settling in your bones, that had nothing to do with the water.

Picking apart the look in his eyes, where you felt certain he had been searching for you. It leaves you confident that your feelings had not changed.

The water is cold and you’re scrubbed clean by the time you leave. Lotions found on the countertop smoothed into your skin, the tired joints of your knuckles.

Fingers trace over the rack of robes you find next to the door. Soft silks and thick cotton and gauzy, see-through chiffon. Your cheeks burn at the thought, as you pull one out to hold it against you.

Imaging the red fabric against your skin. How little of you it would hide, in spite of it swishing around your ankles.

Eventually, you settle on something between the two - modest enough that you won’t be embarrassed to see your guide again.

Intentionally choosing something that reminds you of him - shades of green with thin, gold trim. The tie knotted carefully around your waist, skimming your thighs. The sleeves gathered at your forearms, the silky feeling luxurious against your scrubbed skin.

By the time you make it back to the bedroom, the edges around the curtains are dark - the sun long set. The blankets soft - the mattress dipping as you sit down on the edge, still taking in the room.

A knock comes, soon after. The gentle rapping of knuckles against the door - heavy as you pull it open.

Something flipping low in your belly, when you see your visitor.

Not the pleasant girl, who had chattered as she guided you up the steps. Smiling, as she bid you farewell.

It’s him.

Boba lingers outside your door, so unlike you’ve ever seen before. Clothed in black robes, his Beskar chest plate fitted on top. Your eyes follow down, seeing gloves and gauntlets, but no helmet - before you realize you’re staring. Your gaze quickly snapping up to his, already caught.

There’s a twitch of his lips. His own eyes wandering, though you missed them in your own exploration.

His voice low, amused as he asks, “May I come in?”

Heat licks at your skin as you nod - nerves skittering down your spine, at this unexpected development. Stepping back to allow him inside.

Ending up at the end of the bed again, your palms pressing into the bedspread to keep you from fidgeting.

“Is this room to your liking?” Boba asks, conversationally.

So casually, so pleasantly, that you’re frowning. Confused at his appearance. Assuming that he had come to feed - that he’d grown tired of waiting, his patience now thin.

“It’s beautiful,” You answer, honestly. Far finer than any room you’d seen before. The bath already feels like a dream, even though the perfume still lingers in your skin, “You are again too generous.”

“It is my pleasure.” His voice is low, his hands bracing against the chaise he stands behind, “By far the least I can do.”

A nod to your new situation. This new connection, binding you together. You knew about the ritual in the tavern, from the whispers from the Companions that visited your stall.

Flowers woven into their hair as they gossiped, your eager ears picking up everything you could.

But this, now, was unknown to you.

Was he just getting to know you? Or was there another step you were missing?

“Thank you, Lord Fett,” You smile. Fingers pinching at the blanket, gathering your nerves. A breath, before you can ask, “Are we… are we to begin now? I was told there would another ceremony.”

“Just Boba, please.” He clarifies, after a beat of silence - those dark eyes still fixed on you. That eye contact still holding, as his head tilts, “And yes, there is a ritual. When conducted, it takes place in front of the coven.”

It’s not an unpleasant thought. There’s something primal about such a ritual - the thought of him claiming you in front of his friends and peers.

Images leap to your mind, unbidden. Your imagining of the throne room, filled to the brim. Gathered up in his arms, the expanse of your neck appears as he dips you. Baring legs, baring arms, baring throat.

The flash of teeth, as they sink into your skin-

It takes another second, before you can gather your thoughts. Clearing your throat, as you ask, “Is that what you wish?”

“That would depend.” His steps are slow, as he rounds the chaise. Hands clasped behind his back, the green armor accentuating his broad chest.

“On?”

There’s the flash of teeth as he smiles, “On if you’re planning on changing.”

Heat flares in your cheeks, at the thought of your appearance. Acutely aware of the single layer that covers you, just a loose knot keeping the robe in place.

Is Boba Fett flirting with me?

Before you can answer, his head turns, “This ritual is more symbolic than binding. Any true decisions are made behind doors. We can continue here, if you’d like.”

You nod slowly. The thought of having him to yourself appealing, especially for the first night. A twinge of worry about the feeding - the crook of your arm still tender from where you were pricked to fill the goblet.

Not wanting to appear weak. Not wanting your desires to be laid out, exposed in front of everyone.

“I would not mind that.” You confess, “What kind of decisions do you mean?”

“There are many we can discuss.” His look turns thoughtful, “For one, your stall. If it is gold that brought you here, I would purchase it from Shard for you. You need not do this.”

That makes you blink - the offer kind. An unexpected, altruistic turn.

“No. That’s not why.” Your head shakes, “I’m here on my own. I wanted to-”

Your words cut off, afraid to say too much. A breath, before you add, “I have little other ties here. It was not the stall that brought me to the tavern."

Something in his face changes, a softening to that ever-steady mark between his brows. Those hands still clasped, as if stilling them, as he moves closer, “Are you not bound to another, ad’ika?”

“Do you mean a soulmate?” The question makes you blink - a little frown forming.

There were no marks on your skin. No ties to another, painted where their body had first touched yours.

You could find out. You want to joke, but it stays trapped on your tongue. A moment, before you shake your head.

“No.” A small breath, as you steel yourself, “I don’t believe in them.”

His expression flickers now - you’ve caught him off guard.

“You don’t believe? The Mand’alor has often walked the town streets with his. Do you doubt their connection?”

Curiosity tinges his words, and your head shakes again, “They were lucky, I think. And I think fate works for some. Just… not me.”

It’s as honest as you’ve ever been. Maybe he’ll laugh at you… but just maybe - he’ll understand.

Perhaps it had been luck that morning, when he found you. But fate hadn’t made him kind.

That had been all him.

And perhaps luck had also turned Lady Shand before you left - but it was you who had gone to the Tavern, goblet in hand. You who had leaned into his visits, tucking away each one.

“I’d like to think that I make my own decisions. That my own choices determine my path.”

“And is that what you’ve done?” He rasps, his eyes dark, “Made your choice?”

Your breath hitches at his tone, smooth and low. Managing a short, little nod in answer - not trusting ability to keep your voice level.

“Not all bonding is mates, little one.” He’s closer now. Enough that you can see the fine weave of his robes - the chips in his armor where a sword had peeled away the paint, “You know that, right?”

Your heart pounds in your ears - ignoring his question, as you manage to ask your own, “What do you want?”

His head cocks, the candlelight catching his eyes. That burgundy shimmer darkening. You find yourself holding your breath as you wait for his answer. Watching the way his lips pull in a smile, revealing the sharp points of his teeth.

“Oh, what do I want?” He repeats, slowly, softly. “I want you to show me what you did to make your blood so sweet.”

His voice drops then, as he moves closer, “And then I want to taste you for myself.”

Your breath comes in a ragged gasp. He knew?

The whispered rumor about making your blood near irresistible had been trusted, but you never thought he’s be able to tell.

His laugh is soft, “Are you getting shy on me now, sarad?”

Heat licks at you, embarrassment and desire swirling together into a heady combo. Your thoughts slipping between your teeth on their own, “How did you…”

Boba clucks his tongue, “It’s been a while, little one. But not that long.”

That snags in your mind, your attention shifting. You frown, fingers twisting around the silk ties of your robe, “What do you mean?”

His eyebrow lifts.

There were rumors that Lord Fett and the now Lady Shand were not romantically linked. But it had never been confirmed, and part of you had worried you were going to end up in a precarious position.

Not that you minded sharing.

“You’re stalling.” He chides again, “If I misunderstood, then-”

“You didn’t.” You’re quick to correct, the band of silk pinching around your fingers, “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

His lips quirk at your answer, your boldness. An arm braces on the foot post of the canopy bed, close enough that your thigh brushes his hip.

“It has been a decade since I’ve drank from the throat of a creature as lovely as you.” His hand lifts, the back of his knuckle brushing against your neck.

No mark blooms under his touch, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You don’t need one to want him, or to love him. All you need is your heart - beating so fiercely, as that knuckle drags down to the hollow of your throat.

His fingers unfurling until the tips drag against your sternum, as your heart drops to beat between your thighs.

In a moment of bravery, your fingers tug on the tie. The knot loosing, and then pooling around your hips as the edges of your robe part, falling open.

His eyes follow, tracing your curves as they come into view. The rich fabric like a caress against your bare skin as you shift further back on the bed. Legs uncrossing as he steps between them - forcing them to nudge wider.

Heat pools in your belly, with his proximity. The knowledge that he truly intends to watch - close enough that his fingers could brush your skin, with how he bends - pressing his palms against the mattress.

Framing your thighs, as you lower yourself to your elbows. Nearly on display, the fabric still bunching at your waist, keeping you hidden.

If you hadn’t thought about him so often, perhaps you’d be a little more shy. But there was something so intoxicating about this. So honest and earnest in his tone - making you believe that because he said it so, he truly wanted to see you.

And you wouldn’t deny your Lord of anything.

Your eyes flip up to his, watching how he waits. Those hands still pressed flush, as his eyes rake over your form - an attempt to keep his hands from wandering.

But yours are not to tied down. Yours drift - trailing along the soft green hem. Down, towards the valley between your breasts.

It has you wondering if he can hear the way your heart kicks up a notch. At your touch, your intentions.

You think he must, with the way he shifts between your thighs, waiting.

The silky fabric pebbles at the tight peaks of your breasts. Soft as your fingertips run across them - a creak of his leather gloves with your soft sigh, as his fingers curl into the bedspread.

His eyes darker still, as you let your robe part further. Knuckles pinching, dragging over bare skin before drifting towards your navel. An urge to press your thighs together, an ache at the thought of things to come. At his words, already given.

There’s a rough noise, something gritted out that you miss, when the robe parts fully. When Boba can see you fully, his eyes dropping to where you’re slick already. Swollen and soft and warm, a pink tongue peeking out between sharp teeth at the sight.

A half-formed thought to tease - fingers parting yourself open. Your strokes slow, to dip slowly into your heat.

But it feels impossible to do so, with him watching. The second you slip against your skin, you’re sighing - quick to press and circle, your hips jolting into your touch.

He knows it’s for him. You can’t even pretend you’re still wet from before - those hours and that long, warm bath passing between then and now.

No, it’s his words. His voice, those suggestions.

Him.

From this angle he can surely see how you shine already. Knees pressing into his hips as your muscles clench, toes curling.

Can he see how your pulse thuds? How your blood races down, to where you ache?

The press of your fingers makes you whine, eyes taking in the expanse of his chest. Flicking down to where his hand rotates, gloved fingers touching down on the bed - moving to press against the curve of your thigh.

He watches your fingers, the way they press. Memorizing what makes your muscles clench, the soft sounds of your sighs.

You want his hands on you - to feel the strength of them for yourself. Molding you into his image, to touch you however he wishes.

To take you, as he tastes you.

It has your leg pressing into his touch, teeth biting into your tongue to keep you from begging.

“You want something.” His voice is soft, his eyes unreadable, “I can feel it, radiating from you.”

The air hisses through your teeth, sparks of pleasure pulsing where your fingers press. Slowing and stuttering at his words.

“You,” The word is sighed out, your eyes meeting his dark ones, “I want you.”

He smiles then, and it’s almost cruel. Teasing.

His hands curving around your thighs, moving slowly against your skin. Up until his thumbs are brushing against your inner thighs, nudging them wider apart.

“You managed just fine, before.” There’s a lilt to his voice, the raise of an eyebrow, “Or did you have some help?”

Your fingers slow as your brows knit, distracted by his question. How his fingers bump against yours, so close to where you burn - but still not touching.

“No,” Your head shakes, “I didn’t.”

I just thought of you, you want to tell him. I thought about this.

“Good.” He husks, and his hands leave you. A little whine slipping past your lips as he brings a hand to his mouth - using his teeth to rip the gloves from his fingers, “I only want your blood singing for me.”

It makes you clench, lips parting just in him for him to arch over you - a bare hand flattening against the bed near your ear. The other dipping between your lips when they part for him, sliding past blunt teeth.

You groan around him, cool and solid as they slip across your tongue. His eyes growing darker as your lips close around to suck, his thumb stroking the underside of your chin.

It’s bliss. Your mouth so beautifully full and busy as your fingers work, aiding your steady ascent towards euphoria.

All too soon they slide from you, leaving your lips glossy. Trailing down your chin, before dropping to fit between your thighs.

He didn’t need to, you’re already so wet. The tip of index finger slipping beneath yours, teasing at your opening. Sliding into you easily as you arch into his touch, feeling the fullness of having him in you. Already a bit of a stretch, and you squirm at the thought of more.

“So warm and wet.” His tone is almost reverent, his eyes dropping to your mouth, “I’d almost forgotten.”

Watching how you pant as his finger plunges deep, the pull of your brow as he slips from you, only to fit two inside with his next thrust.

Angling his wrist so he can curl them inside you, stroking against slick walls - finding a place that had your breath coming in a ragged gasp.

You’re close already. It had been easy, with him so close. Looking at you so hungrily, as you brought yourself closer. The feel of his fingers, filling and stroking you, teasing against that spot, has your muscles winding tight.

Boba shifts, leaning back. The hand pressing against the bed moves to wrap around your wrist, halting the needy circle of your fingers.

Your mounting pleasure plateaus, a frustrated sound in your throat. His fingers still fucking you, but that sharp edge slips from your grasp.

“Slower.” He rasps, pinning your hand down. Only allowing the tips of your fingers to each, “Need to get you ready for me. Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” You moan - automatically, without thought.

The thought makes you tighten around his, squeezing his fingers. His smile pulls to show sharp teeth, the slick slap of his fingers loud where they press into your pussy.

“Gods, I can feel you. Do you want it that bad, ad’ika?”

Your mind swirls, the weight of your tongue making it impossible to answer. Even with the tiny flick of your fingers, you can feel the pleasure in your belly start to crackle and burn.

That pressure increasing, each breath no more than a high gasp. Your vision starting to grow blurry, eyes heavy with lust, all of your concentration focused on the sweet spot between your thighs.

His name is torn from your throat, as you come when three fingers fit inside you. Crooking and stroking against your walls as you bear down around them, as he can feel how you pulse.

It drowns out your pleasure from before - hurried movements in the privacy of your home. You’re alight now - basking in the low hum of his words. Blurring at the edges, slipping through your fingers.

Fuck, that’s it.

My sarad, bloom for me.

Can’t wait to taste you.

The hand lets go to press against your hip, pinning you down. Making you take the steady pump of his fingers, as he draws it out.

“You can. Can taste me-” You gasp, your own fingers now still. A twinge that tips towards too much, as you grasp at his wrist. His hand staying buried in you, as his other curls around the back of your neck.

You brace for the bite, as your head tilts to offer your throat. Know it was coming from the start - eager to offer yourself in every way you could.

Not expecting the way he leans over you again. The ghost of warm breath before the press of his mouth against your pulse. Inhaling your scent as your heart flutters in your throat, the haze of your orgasm settling over you.

A rough sound as you moan, as he moves higher. Teeth nipping at your jaw. Realization swirling as there’s the hungry press of his mouth against yours - your own hands scraping across armor, grasping at his robes.

Curling around his shoulder to hold him to you, as you melt further. His lips are soft - yours are already parted, welcoming the dip of his tongue. Your legs hitching around his waist as his weight presses into you.

It’s comforting. It’s enveloping - your sigh swallowed as his hand slips from you. Pulling back from your mouth, as your head rising to chase after him.

Meeting those fingers instead - slick with your release, pressing against your lower lip. His own tongue swirling against one, as you share the others.

Your teeth graze, bite down on his fingers. His groan low as mouths meet again - with your taste on his tongue, with his hips pressing down against yours. Grinding himself against your bare skin, where you can feel the hard curve of his arousal.

“See how good you taste?” He rasps, lips brushing your cheek. “Fuck, can’t get enough.”

His arm curls around your waist, slick fingers shoving between mattress and your back. Lifting you like you’re nothing, with his enhanced strength. A flip in your belly and a little yelp, before you’re set back down.

Boba’s back rests against the ornate headboard. Your thighs spread wide around his waist, straddling him. The soft robe you wear dips down across your back, the fabric nestled in the crook of your elbows.

Hands splay across his chest, cool skin and hard muscle beneath. His eyes on the expanse of your skin - the slope from your neck, to your bare breasts beneath. That hand anchoring the back of your neck again, thumb sweeping the soft spot beneath your ear.

His eyes burn. Glittering embers in their depth, the sharp points of his teeth showing between parted lips. Something inside you stirs - know deep down that he truly means to taste you now.

To drink from you, as your head tilts back to offer the soft skin of your throat.

“It will hurt, a little.” He warns, voice low. Rough, as if he’s holding himself back, “But I’ll make you feel good. I promise, mesh’la.”

Your fingers twist in his robes. Eyes fluttering shut, as you wait for it to come.

But he has one last request, an edge to his voice that that fixes your attention.

“Keep your eyes open for me.”

It’s your last warning, before he’s leaning forward. The soft brush of his lips against your jugular, before he’s biting down.

There’s twin pinches, as your skin gives beneath his teeth. A burning throb as you gasp - unable to help the way you flinch, stiffening in his arms.

He groans against your neck as you flood his tongue, and there’s the sensation of pulling, the soft suck of his mouth.

But the pain does not linger. It soon bleeds into something more, that sharp edge twisting and transforming. That thudding in your neck tipping downwards. Past your chest, past your belly.

Nestling between your thighs with a very different kind of ache. One that has you shifting against him, the roll of your hips as he keeps you pinned with his teeth.

The robes he wears are thin. Not ones that go beneath his armor during the day, or to travel. Soft and fine as your fingers curl into the fabric at his shoulders.

Not at all concealing his need for you, something that stretches deeper than the urge to drink. Boba is stiff beneath you, his hardness trapped beneath the layers of cloth and your bare cunt.

Each squirm presses him against you. Something flickering in your mind, a sort of mirror to your pleasure. It feels like it strings out, wrapping around your limbs, tethering you together.

His teeth unlatch, when you reach down. A desire from deep inside to touch him, fingers sliding against fabric. Dampened from you, from the slide of your hips, the way you feel like you will burst, if he’s not inside you.

“Taste so godsdamn sweet.” He groans, tongue tracing over the marks on your neck. Where the blood still beads out, sweetened by your orgasm, “Knew it was yours, the moment it touched my tongue.”

Pulling back, to bring his mouth to yours again. He tastes like iron, like you - as your hand curls around him. Achingly hard under your touch, as your fingers trace down the curve of him, finding the edge of his robes.

“Fuck. You can have it, ad’ika. It’s yours if you want it.” His eyes are brighter, those shadows under his eyes less defined.

Hips lifting so you can draw him out, so smooth and heavy in your hand. On another day you’d want to stroke it yourself, feel the weight of it on your tongue. But you’re too desperate now. Already rising up on your knees, the robe parting like curtains at your hips.

The kiss breaks and there’s a soft protest as you line yourself up. Not for you to stop, for you to slow - merely for to take your time.

Though there is no desire to. The time you’ve already taken feels far too long, in this moment.

His hands move - sliding down to your hips. Resting there as you take him, the sharp stretch has the thick head parts you, as you slip down onto his cock. Even with the stretch of his fingers, it still feels like too much. A ragged gasp as your nails sink into his skin, though the fabric of his robes.

It twines with the pulse in your throat. Your fluttering heartbeat, the way you make room for him to fit inside you. His thick fingers flexing against bare skin as he bottoms out, as your thighs finally rest against his.

“Gods, you feel so good-” You keen - as you go still, for a long moment.

Breath caught in your throat, eyes widened as he watches. He shifts beneath you, the flexing of his legs as they stretch out beneath you. It moves him - a shallow thrust deep in your belly. That pleasure sparking, blending with the buzzing of your blood in your veins. Another roll of your hips, and then another.

Hands unfurling, slipping up to brace on his shoulders. Using them to aid your movements - the slow lift and drop that speeds up, as you get used to the feeling of him inside you. The way each stroke sends him against your walls.

His eyes are hazy - blood-drunk off you. Muscles strung tight as he lets you set the pace. Bouncing on his cock until you tire yourself out, until you beg for him to help you. Holding himself back, as your blood lingers on his tongue.

Your thighs burn with the effort. Head dipping down to see where he watches, the lounge of his shoulders against the headboard. How pretty you look, stretch around him. Something so fitting about how bare you are, against his layers - the edge of his armor, that bites into your wrists.

His fingers drift down from your hip, around the curve of your thigh. The pad of his thumb pressing against your clit again.

Following the rise and fall of your hips, circling against you the way he had watched yours move.

You swear you feel him throb in you, when his eyes raise. Lingering on your chest, the sticky smear of crimson against your skin - an errant drop from his eager drinking.

It’s then, that the scales tip. His body moving against yours - a hand wrapping around your back. The shift of his hips as he lurches forward, until it’s you that is pinned beneath him, back pressed against the mattress.

He’s deeper like this. Hips snapping into yours, as you cry out. Head dipping down, his tongue dragging against your clavicle. Down, to lap the trail blood from your skin as he groans.

You back arching into his touch as he presses open-mouthed kisses against your breast, a soft cry as his fingers find the other, trapping the tight bud between his knuckles.

“Could feel how much you wanted this.” His voice is a low rasp. Your thighs wrapping around him as he ruts into you. A circle of his hips grinding against your clit, slick and swollen from your connection.

Feeding off him, in your own way. Something sweet and heavy slipping through your veins. Your skin feels too sensitive - all your nerves alight under his touch. Head tilting back against the blankets as his weight settles over you.

As that feeling builds up again, faster this time. Racing, with the stretch of his cock. The way his hips roll back. Leaving you to clench around the tip, before plowing back in.

You’d never considered your mortality before, but it flickers in your mind now. Just how delicate you feel. A true vampire lord, able to crush you if he wanted.

Instead, he touches you gently - as his hand finds your wrist, his fingers curling around. A swipe of his thumb against your skin as he reaches to pin it against the bed. The other tucking beneath you, cupping the back of your neck again.

It sends another wave of heat between your thighs. The pound of his cock even louder than the press of his fingers, your slick arousal audible - layering with your cries.

There’s a warning on the tip of your tongue - the words coming out slurred instead. A soft, panting groan. Your heels digging into his lower back, eyes fluttering shut as he grinds himself against the spot he had found with his fingers.

“Twice wasn’t enough, ad’ika? Going to come again?” You can hear the grin in his words How it’s an inevitability, with the way he moves in you.

Unable to look away, with the way he holds you. Not that you’d want you, you think - even if you could. The fix of his gaze feels like a gift, bestowed upon you.

Captivating, with the way he soaks in every minute movement. The sweep of his eyes as he watches you start to fall apart beneath him.

You want to feel him again. That pounding surge inside your veins, that sensation of feeling even more connected than you already are.

So, you beg him for it. Eyes heavy-lidded where they find his. Your words punctuated with the hitching of your breath as you guide him down to your throat, with eager hands.

“Bite me. You can, I’m yours-”

Your pleas are impossible to resist, when his own pleasure thrumming in his belly.

He bites higher, this time. In a spot that even your tallest collar won’t hide, teeth pricking skin. Your cry turns into a groan as the rapture courses through you, seeping into your veins. Flooding his tongue, as he drinks again.

You shatter. Caught in his grip, unable to squirm with his teeth in your neck. His weight pinning you down as you pulse around his cock, your cry high and broken in the castle room.

He groans into your skin. The suck of blood over teeth, tasting how it turns sweet. Flushed with your ecstasy, an endless loop between his teeth and the tight clench of your cunt as you come.

For a moment, your eyes flutter closed. Images flicker behind your eyelids - shown as if you were outside yourself.

Red petals against green. Your perception darkened, as if behind a visor. Visions of you, leaning over your stall. Surrounded in a wreath of flowers, hand-picked from your garden.

A throb in your chest, one that blooms - skittering down your spine, settling low in your belly. Almost like butterflies, with how their wings feel like they flutter.

The sensation disappears too fast to make sense of - breaking, as he lets go.

Red smeared across his lips as the steady thrusts become short, messy. Fingers biting into your skin with the slap of his hips, the harsh grunt that turns into a ragged groan.

Hovering over you, as he notches himself deep, one last time. The column of his throat lengthening as his head tips back - it takes everything to resist the urge to make your own mark, as he spills messily inside you.

Throbbing, chasing the high with the grind of his hips.

His eyes losing that sharp edge, when his head tips down. Soft and warm, a sunrise welcoming a summers day.

Everything moves slowly, after. The lazy relaxing of muscles. The tilt of his lips when you whine, when he slips from you. His fingers slow, sweeping - as they dip down. Teasing where he drips from you, as your mouth finds his again.

Tender, as the robe is fully stripped from you. Boba’s words coaxing and patient, as he shows you the strap of his armor. How to take him apart, until you match - a perfect pair.

The aches that linger in your muscles are soon soaked away in the bath he draws. Your second today - a true luxury. The ceramic tub large enough for your back to cradle against his front.

You don’t think you ever want to leave.

Drowsy and content, his cool fingers welcome against your neck. A salve smeared carefully over the marks from his teeth. A promise that your skin will heal by morning, soft and smooth again - unmarried by his touch.

You think next time… you’ll ask if they can stay.

You’re warm against him.

Boba hasn’t been warm in years. Too used to his skin, carved from stone. Forever unchanging.

But you - you’re supple. Soft in his hands, molding yourself to fit the curve of his chest, where you cheek nestles. A thigh splaying over his waist, fingers splayed out against his stomach.

There’s much he should be doing. The sun has set some hours ago, and there’s a long list of things that need his attention.

But for now, for this moment, he will stay. Just a little longer, before he’ll slide out from beneath you, slipping away like a shadow.

You stretch against him, calf pressing into his thigh. Words heavy with sleep and exhaustion, so soft in the night air.

“‘m glad you picked me.”

There’s a stirring, in his chest. Where he thought he was long-dead, his palm pressing down where it rests against your back.

The briefest moment before he’s answering, an idle threat as a deflection.

Hushing you instead, his voice low, “Sleep, little one. You’re mistaken if you think I’ve had had my fill.”

You can’t help the smile, even as your teeth bite into your lip to stifle it. Squirming against him, the press of your center against the curve of his hip.

A low hum of amusement in his chest, as the arm that stretches beside you curls up - tucking around your ribs, nestling you a little closer.

He listens, as your breathing grows slower. Until you’re drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

Only then, does he let his mind wander. Back to the place where it had been earlier that evening. When he teeth were bared, that moment where his armor had been so thin.

“Don’t close your eyes.”

If you had, you would have seen.

Peeling back his memories, discovering just how often he had strayed down to the marketplace, after your first meeting. Not for gold or for payment. Only to catch a glimpse at the girl that had burrowed under his skin.

Somewhere along the way, changing from a casual observation - making sure Shard kept away - to something far more intimate.

Something akin to longing, if a man like Boba Fett could feel that way.

You would have felt - when the goblet raised to his lips for the second time…

Just how much he had hoped it was yours.

ad'ika - little one | sarad - flower | mesh’la - beautiful

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 🥺💕 I wanted to explore some of the same themes but in a new way for Boba (rejection of fate, the intentional in the way they seek each other out, instead of the pull of soulmates) - I just thought that would be so fun. I hope you liked this! 💖

tagging some pals!: @margofiore, @marieg, @wingofshadow, @reaperofmen, @bobaprint, @phoenixhalliwell, @csboz, @imarvelatthestars

#vampire!boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett imagine #boba fett smut

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simplepotatofarmer · 2 months

Text

seeing red

a very short (1,036 words) c!rivals duo fic based on the @sixteenth-day-event's prompt 'protective violence'.

The nether was a dangerous place.

Where in the overworld daytime gave some reprieve from the monsters, the nether didn’t have the same grace period and that meant even experienced players had to be careful. It meant that Techno always made sure he had a couple potions, healing and speed, and a spare gold helmet on him, just in case something happened, because something always happened.

The current something was the fact he had lost sight of his travelling companion.

Dream could take care of himself, sure, but Techno didn’t like it. He didn’t like that he had gotten so distracted that he had either lagged behind or left Dream behind. A hint of panic was rising in his chest, the drone of the voices in his head growing a tiny bit louder.

Yelling out wasn’t the best idea. They couldn’t have gone too far from the haphazardly constructed nether highway and Techno didn’t want to risk getting caught out here, without an ally. Not after what had happened, the execution that had only failed because the totem had reversed his death.

Techno frowned, took a deep sniff of the air, looked at the slightly spongy netherrack, and picked a direction to head in.

The bastion was a surprise.

The small gap, hidden by a blackstone half-slab, was an even bigger surprise. Dream cursed as he fell through it, hitting his arm, hard, on the way down. His ankle had twisted awkwardly when he hit the ground and his other leg had folded under him, pain radiating from his knee. The injuries weren’t much of a concern – he had plenty of healing potions and supplies on him – but what was a concern were the piglins that had been alerted to his presence by the fall and the fact the ill-fitting gold helmet had fallen off and rolled away, still spinning to a stop.

“Fuck—Ah, shit!”

Dream barely got his shield up in time to block the arrow, barely managed to lift his axe to parry a blow from a brute that had charged him.

He was still on the ground.

He was still on the ground the brute was huge compared to him and if Dream could just get one a healing potion out, get to his feet, then he would be fine—

But another brute had approached from the side and using his shield to defend himself left him open to the piglin’s crossbow attack.

I’m dead, thought Dream as the arrow sunk into his side, finding the gap in his armor by sheer luck.

Gritting his teeth, he jerked the arrow out and rolled to the left. There was a drop, shorter than the one he had fallen down in the first place, and it hurt when he landed on the blackstone but it would give him a moment.

Out of nowhere, an irrational thought crossed his mind: if I kill piglins, is Techno going to be pissed at me?

Anything he did here would be self-defence and Techno was the sort who would understand that but for some reason Dream couldn’t shake the thought. It was irrational and it made him slow and he barely got half of the healing potion downed before he ran out of time.

The glass bottle smashed to floor and Dream raised his axe, back to the wall, as the piglin brutes came at him.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Techno saw the bastion and knew something was wrong even before he heard the sound of fighting. A bastion could be one of the more dangerous places; the crumbling blackstone created a maze that was hard to navigate and almost all of the inhabitants wouldn’t be happy to see a stranger. He drew his sword as he hurried forward and hopped up on one of the walls, looking down into the bastion.

He found what he was looking for immediately. He smelled the blood in the a second later.

A swarm of brutes had backed Dream into a corner.

If he lowered his defense a little, just enough to try to pearl out or take a potion, he would have been overwhelmed. He couldn’t even attempt to block the arrows being sent his direction from a piglin on an upper level.

The voices were like his heart pounding wildly in his ears. Techno saw the man who had saved his life and Carl’s life struggling, fighting for his own life, and saw red.

Without thinking, Techno downed a speed potion and crossed the bastion’s wall, hopping across the gaps, until he was on the level above Dream. He bodychecked the piglin, kicking their crossbow off the platform and into the lava below. Then he jumped down, sword over his head.

The first blow hit one of the brutes across the chest and they stumbled back with a startled noise. Techno might have felt bad but Dream was bleeding, his mask had come loose, and even under the armor it was clear his chest was rising and falling rapidly. Techno had never seen him like this and the only clear emotion he felt in this moment was worry and anger.

Bringing his sword up, he caught the next brute in their shoulder, rendering their arm and axe useless. There was a squeal of fear that Techno met with a roar of anger and it took three more swings of his sword before the remaining brutes turned and fled in fear.

Techno turned to Dream.

“You alright, man?”

Dream nodded.

“I’m—I’m fine,” he lied, loosing his balance and pitching sideways the moment he spoke.

Techno caught him, steadied him, and then carefully pulled his mask back into place.

“Yeah, you’re definitely fine,” said Techno with a crooked grin. His heart was still pounding but the voices had quieted. He pulled out his spare gold helmet and placed it on Dream’s head. It was big; it fell forward and covered part of Dream’s mask. Techno resisted the urge to laugh, resisted the odd urge to hug Dream, and instead took him by the hand to guide him, to keep him from stumbling. “C’mon, let’s get the heck out of here.”

“Yeah…” A beat and then, leaning into Techno’s shoulder, Dream said, “Thanks.”

“Anytime, Dream.”

#technoblade #dreamwastaken #dsmp fanfic #dream smp #rivals duo #rivalsblr #sixteenthdayevent

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wanderersbell · 1 year

Note

Aaah i live for the idea of being the wanderer's travel companion!! i love the "lending you his hat" fic you did, it's so well done ♥️ i don't even have anything specific to request, i would just love for more cute moments like that 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️

a trip to vanarana

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1620

a/n: anon i'm so glad you love that idea bc it's my fav and i think about it all the time! here's some more for you (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ this miiight be kinda off lore wise bc iirc the only reason people couldn't see aranara was due to the inability to dream, and considering they can now i feel like that also implies they can see the little guys but i could be wrong so oh well - enjoy!

bringing fresh fruit to the aranara in vanarana had become a special, self indulgent little routine of yours as of late.

honestly, you weren’t even sure if they could eat, but all of it always vanished within a couple of days when you’d come back with more, and the aranara would greet you eagerly - so you figured wherever it went it must be getting put to good use. two to three times a week, rain or shine, you would drag the wanderer with you to pick up fresh produce from the market and carry it to the tiny village. he would grumble and huff the whole way, drag his feet like a petulant child, but refused to let you go alone if you offered to let him stay behind.

“you’re basically exploiting me.” he points out, kicking a stray hilichurl arrow away from his foot. the camp the two of you just cleared out sits vacant now as you lift the discarded sack of fruit back up over your shoulder, the weight slightly heavier than before after tossing in the apples and sunsettias you just found.

you shoot the wanderer a slightly exasperated look from where he’s still tossing hilichurl loot around with his foot instead of picking it up. he pretends to be lost in thought once you whip your head around to face him, wiping invisible dust off of his shoulder like dealing with a small camp of monsters is anything more than a minor inconvenience for someone with his level of abilities.

“when i take you with me i’m exploiting you, when i leave you behind it’s excluding you.” you sniff, fixing him with glare when he finally meets your eyes. “has anyone ever told you that you’re difficult?”

his brows raise in faux disbelief, his right hand coming to rest over his vision like he’s deeply offended by your words. “me? difficult? is it so wrong to desire compensation for my troubles?”

you can’t help the way your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head, but a small smile still tugs at your lips at his dramatics.

“is my company not enough for you?” you joke as the aranara village comes into view. the loud scoff behind you comes as no surprise.

“not in the slightest. this is a waste of time, i have better things to be doing right now.”

you give a thoughtful hum in response, choosing to say nothing else as the silent acknowledgment between the two of you goes unsaid, but speaks loud enough all the same. with you, when he can’t comfortably bring himself to admit the truth, he’ll say the opposite of what he feels. you know this very well, so what he means is: “more than enough, i’d cause a scene if you didn’t let me tag along.”

soon reaching the aranara village, you and your travel companion head over to the center of the clearing and you unceremoniously let the fruit fall to the ground, reaching up to rub at your sore shoulder immediately afterwards while the wanderer gives you a pointed look that you choose to ignore. he insisted you let him carry the bag before you left, you always end up complaining about how heavy it is, but you refused and wouldn’t let him take it from you despite knowing the truth of his words.

it’s only moments later that the aranara start to emerge from their tiny homes and wobble over to you, their silly little hats and faces bringing a familiar sense of glee that overcomes you whenever you see them.

“i’m back!” you exclaim with a huge grin that has your eyes squinting into crescents. “i hope your hungry! or ready to do… whatever you do with this stuff!” when you bend down to start taking the produce out of the bag and into a pile, the man standing next to you snorts lightly.

the wanderer, ever the one to suck the joy out of things until they’re bitter and tasteless, is convinced they can’t eat and that you bringing them fruit is the equivalent of birds bringing shiny trash to people. this doesn’t bother you in the slightest though, so all he can do is stand back hopelessly and watch these little forest creatures rob you of perfectly good food.

“you know, they probably throw it all into a hole and let it rot. compost for the garden.” he says while a few of the aranara swarm his feet and gaze up at him with expectant beady eyes.

you give a nonchalant shrug in response. “that’s certainly not the worst thing they could be doing, so i don’t see a problem with it. contributing to their garden is a good deed, no?”

out of the corner of your eye, you see one of the floating aranara approach your traveling companion who glares suspiciously at the viparyas it carries in its hands. your heart swells immediately at the sight of the small forest creature offering him a flower out of the blue, hands flying up to cover your mouth lest you squeal in delight and ruin the moment.

the wanderer still remains rooted to the spot, watching hesitantly as the aranara reaches out and waits until he outstretches his hand to drop the viparyas into his palm. his eyes momentarily flick down to the flower laying on his hand then back up to the aranara that bounces a bit in the air and makes a soft, pleased sound before turning and floating away.

“oh my god,” you whisper-yell into your hands, eyes wide with disbelief at the interaction you just witnessed. with bewilderment clear on his face, the wanderer meets your eyes and purses his lips in embarrassment at the fact that you watched it all go down.

fruit long forgotten, you clamber to your feet and lean closer to see the viparyas that’s still laying haphazardly on his palm. when you try to grab it, your travel companion finally snaps out of his shock and yanks his hand away from you with the flower clutched tight in his grip.

“don’t you dare. it was given to me, not you.” he says firmly, smirking at the way your expression gives way to irritation faster than he can blink.

“i thought you didn’t like the aranara!” you remind him, wholesome moment instantly ruined. “you hardly even help here, i’m positive it was meant for me anyways!”

when you reach out to try to take it again he turns his entire body away from you and peeks over his shoulder with a proud sneer. “if it was meant for you, it would’ve been given to you. this was obviously for me.”

a heavy sigh forces it’s way out of your lungs but you begrudgingly concede, willing to let him be possessive over the flower the little aranara gave him because, to be fair, it was a precious sight. you wave a hand at him dismissively and mumble a quiet, “fine, whatever.” before crouching down again to finish emptying the bag that had been forgotten, and you miss the way his expression falls at the genuine disappointment in your voice.

tentatively, after a moment of contemplation, he leans over to tap you on the shoulder. when you turn your head to figure out what he wants, he thrusts the flower towards you with a tiny pout and blush on his face, eyes avoiding your own the way they always do when he thinks he accidentally hurt your feelings.

of course, you didn’t actually mind that much, it was just a flower after all, but seeing the sincerity behind his actions, you can’t help but to play along and offer a small smile in response before tentatively taking the viparyas from his outstretched hand.

the second your fingers brush he jerks his hand away and clutches it to his chest, standing back up with a huff and crossing his arms while you gaze fondly at the soft blue and purple petals. your chest clenches tightly at the fact that he had given it to you even if it was only because he thought you were upset, and when you glance up at him to offer him a grateful smile you find that he’s already watching you with a complicated expression on his face.

“what?” you ask cautiously. “don’t tell me you already want it back.”

he clicks his tongue and averts his attention elsewhere. “of course i don’t, keep it for all i care.”

what he means is: “no, it’s for you anyways.” and the smile on your face unconsciously stretches into a giddy grin at his unconvincing frown accompanied color staining his cheeks while he pretends to ignore you. having already finished setting all of the fruit in a pile, you bundle up the bag and shove it under your arm as you stand up and walk over to his side, following his line of sight to watch the sky where the sun starts peeking out of the clouds with breathtaking rays of light.

the comforting presence of the man beside you fills you with a warm, unexplainable feeling that you can’t help but want to cling onto forever, to hold onto so tightly that it permanently fuses with your being.

“ready to leave?” he asks after a few blissful moments of silence, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. you nod softly, too content and peaceful to break the silence and speak.

and so, you and your travel companion head back into town together, viparyas held tightly in your hand while the rays of light in the sky fully emerge from the clouds and illuminate the smiles on your faces.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #my writing #requests! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

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jessamine-rose · 2 years

Text

˚ ༻✿ Herbarium ✿༺ ˚

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

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

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

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

♡ 10.1k words under the cut ♡

i. dandelion

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

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

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

Your flowers are deprived of that fate.

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

You choose two promising puffs and snip the stems.

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

A twig snaps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have other business in Mondstadt.”

Definitely a foreigner. He has a somber voice.

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

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

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

“Not even to the Anemo Archon?”

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

What difference would it make?

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

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

ii. windwheel aster

The stranger is standing in your meadow.

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of them approach you.

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

One of the pages is torn.

You read it anyway.

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

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

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

Why is he here?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?”

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

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

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

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

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

Well, introductions are long overdue.

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

“No. I just like to own flowers.”

His tresses brush against your cheek.

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

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

“You may call me Capitano,” he replies.

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

iii. cecilia

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

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

No, it actually would.

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

His silence is more appreciated on your bad days.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. If that makes you happy.”

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

“Would you like to visit Snezhnaya?”

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

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

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

So unlike the flowers of Mondstadt.

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

“The honor is mine.”

iv. calla lily

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

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

It sounds like a formal announcement coming from him.

“...I see.”

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

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

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

Would he feel sad about going home, though?

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

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

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

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

Capitano’s hand encloses around your wrist.

Tight. His grip is too tight.

The calla lilies fall to the ground.

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

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

“Could…could you please let go?”

His grip only tightens.

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

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

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

Stop talking.

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

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

Just stop.

You slap his hand away from your face.

“Stop! Get away from me!”

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

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

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

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

Your blood runs cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

How could you have been so naive?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could hurt you if you disobey.

The carriage stops.

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

“______. It is time to leave.”

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

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

You follow him out of the carriage.

v. sweet flowers

Snezhnaya is too cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The carriage stops.

“We have arrived. Get up.”

You are quick to leave the carriage this time.

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

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

He took off his mask.

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

He has a human face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

The first thing you check are the doors.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vi. rose

You eventually develop a new daily routine in Snezhnaya.

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

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

You’ve essentially returned to your old dynamic.

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

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

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

Stupid child.

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

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

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

There are also the whispers.

“Is that…?”

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

“They make an odd couple.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does Snezhnaya live up to your initial impression?”

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

“Is that all?”

Capitano is standing right beside you.

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

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

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

Capitano grabs your arm.

The rose thorns dig into your skin.

What did you do this time?

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

His hand is so cold.

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

He only sighs. The sound echoes within his helmet.

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

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

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

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

His other hand catches your wrist.

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

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

Huh?

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

“Does it hurt?” His voice is softer.

What does his face look like right now?

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

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

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

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

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

vii. mint

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

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

“I see. Good luck.”

What kind of business? At least two weeks?

You stop yourself from asking.

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

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

So much for two weeks of privacy.

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

Stop complaining.

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

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

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

You glance at your desk.

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you miss me?”

He pauses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

You ignore her. Ceres repeats her question.

How did she get assigned to this job?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tartaglia.”

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

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

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

He walked away. You followed him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My lady, can you hear me? Hello?”

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

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

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

“That must be nice.”

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

What is Capitano doing right now?

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

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

Ceres is not satisfied with your brief acknowledgement, unfortunately.

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

What was it, anyway?

“None taken. I don’t know, either.”

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

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

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

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

Then what would happen to you?

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

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

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

You wake up in cold sweat.

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

The first thing you check is your notebook.

Your flowers are all safe.

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

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

viii. dendrobium

“My lady, the Captain has returned!”

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

“My lord!”

So she does know how to be professional.

You remain on the sofa and stare at your book.

Familiar footsteps. The clink of chains against metal.

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

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

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

His glove is cold from the snow.

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

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

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

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

“Sergeant Fames, you are dismissed.”

“Yes, sir!” She stands up and leaves.

Just the two of you again.

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

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

Dendrobium. Three perfect dendrobiums with blood red petals.

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

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

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

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

“I agree.”

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

You look up.

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

It shouldn’t be difficult.

…

Warm. His lips are warm.

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

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

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

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

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

He isn’t angry.

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

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

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

...It doesn’t hurt. Not at all.

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

But will this be enough?

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

Just tolerate it for one night. For your sake.

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

“As you wish.”

✿ ⚘

There are bruises on your hips.

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

How long will these last?

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

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

The bed is warmer with him in it.

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

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

“Zapolyarny Palace does not require my presence today.”

So much for escaping The Morning After.

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

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

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

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

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

You had left your marks on him.

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

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

No, no, no.

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

Could you call it that?

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

Strange. Capitano doesn’t wear that color.

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

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

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

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

“______. What are you doing?”

Capitano’s shadow looms over you.

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

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

ix. whopperflower

It has been colder in Snezhnaya lately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Would that make Capitano your knight in shining armor?

…

That is a horrible analogy. You continue reading.

The room becomes silent.

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

Did he catch them looking at you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

“Where have you been?”

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

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

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

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

“And how is that my fault?”

The room spins.

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

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

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

The ink reaches your waist.

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

The walls close in on you. The ink solidifies.

You are trapped.

Your screams are unanswered.

“______? ______.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The Maier son is dead.”

What?

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

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

He is still holding you.

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

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

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

Your sleep is dreamless.

✿ ⚘

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

You focus on your book.

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

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

Just how many people are dead because of you?

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

Your book is confiscated again.

“My—!”

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

His hand is gripping your waist.

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

Your eyes widen.

Has he been…?

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hopefully, Capitano returns on time.

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

“Yes.”

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

Has it been that long?

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

“What about you?”

“I have never participated in the festival.”

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

As if Capitano would allow you.

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

“For once, I can agree with you.”

Cold. You feel so cold.

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

What just…

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

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

Ceres? She…

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

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

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

No. Don’t take it.

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

It’s mine!

Ceres stands up and throws your notebook aside.

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

x. windblume

Your prison is too cramped.

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

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

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

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

“And if he finds out?!”

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

There is barely any space inside this room.

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

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

Please don’t hurt me.

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

You hear the sound of receding footsteps. Then silence.

The room is too small.

They will most likely make you suffer through your death.

You are alone.

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

Capitano won’t be here to rescue you.

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

✿ ⚘

The meadow is ruined.

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

Stop.

They ignore you. The meadow decays.

You cover your eyes.

Please, this is all I have left.

Quiet. The meadow is suddenly quiet.

You look up.

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

The sight is absolutely beautiful.

A twig snaps.

You turn around.

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

The screams are what wake you up.

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

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

What is happening?

Another scream.

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

Capitano?

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

A loud crack.

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

The door opens.

“______!”

Warm. So warm.

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

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

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

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

His touch is so light.

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

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

You really can’t see anything beneath his mask.

Your vision blurs.

The tears won’t stop.

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

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

You bury your face into his coat and continue crying.

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

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

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

“Capitano?” You poke his helmet.

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

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

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

The pain in your throat returns.

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

He relents. “Understood.”

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

You have never felt more safe in his grasp.

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

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

The smile on your face is reflected in his mask.

“Let’s go home.”

♡

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

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

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

#capitano #il capitano #yandere capitano #yandere capitano x reader #capitano x reader #the capitano agenda #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #yandere fatui harbingers #tw: yandere #tw: dark #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: death #spicy warning #mdni #fem reader #jessamine-writing

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mockerycrow · 11 months

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Sugar (Gaz x GN!Reader)

masterlist

Summary: You’re a civilian and you’re across the world from where Kyle is on a mission. It’s late at night when you get the phone call you’ve been waiting weeks for.

A/N: The title is from the song “Sugar - BROCKHAMPTON”. Gaz needs more stand-alone fics. I’m here to provide.

[WARNINGS: short fic, slight angst, fluff.]

It’s been quite a few months since you’ve last seen your boyfriend, Kyle Garrick. It’s to be expected as he’s in the military, but that doesn’t stop you from missing him any less. Goodbyes between you two always tended to be bittersweet—full of gentle kisses and whispers of “see you later”s even if they weren’t guaranteed to be true. You usually get a call or two whenever he’s on a mission if he can. You don’t exactly expect a call because you know he’s busy doing something important; of course you don’t get the details. All you know is that it’s important enough for all communication to be occasionally cut. Sometimes Kyle doesn’t even have his phone for weeks, so you sit there by your window sill, staring off into the night sky and praying that he’s okay.

Tonight, you lay in your bed in your underwear and a loose t-shirt—Kyle’s, of course—and you’ve tossing and turning all night. A light sheet matching your comforter lays across your legs and partially your stomach. It’s a luke-warm summer night and it brings such a nostalgic, yet sad feeling. On nights like these, you’d find yourself crawling into Kyle’s arms, his body radiating just enough heat to be comfortable. His sleepy, low voice would let out a cute little “hm?” when you press your head into the crook of his neck. You can hear his chuckle as he would rub a hand up and down your back soothingly, accepting all of your tiny habits. You can’t help but tear up at the memory. You never know when that memory will never be repeated again, right?

You glance over at Kyle’s side of the bed and you sniffle as you roll over onto his side, transferring your head from your warm pillow to his cold one—which you desperately wished was warm. You pull the sheet with you and you curl up on your side, glancing at the digital clock on his nightstand, it’s red letters blaring 3:49 am at you. You sigh and rest your head comfortably against his pillow again, listening to the natural silence of the house. You hear a creek of the foundation shifting every once in a while, the springs of the mattress every time you move yourself. Your hand drifts to your neck and grabs at the necklace—a gold chained necklace with a locket in the middle, a picture of you and Kyle with your dog that passed away about half a year ago. With Kyle gone, you wanted a companion to keep you company; but soon that one left this world, leaving you alone in a quiet house that only awakens when you do.

You can feel the exhaustion pulling at you, begging you to close your eyes and sleep for the night, but you force yourself to stay awake. ‘Just in case he calls,’ you try to justify it, but you haven’t gotten a call in a month, nearly a month and a half. Your heart burns every time you think about it as you can only come to one solution—one you know isn’t true because Kyle is strong, he’s resourceful, he has his teammates. Honestly, the only reason you know he isn’t dead is because Captain Price hasn’t come to your door to tell you.

You don’t originally notice that you’re falling asleep until your phone blaring a familiar ringtone wakes you up, your heart jumping out of your throat as you jolt. A startled noise leaves you as you breathe hard to gain your bearings and when you realize it—it’s Kyle’s ringtone—you immediately sit up and scramble back to your side of the bed, practically ripping the charger out of your phone and seeing Kyle<3 is calling… at the top of the screen. Without a second thought and with a wide smile on your face, you lay back onto the pillow and you swipe to answer the call you press the phone against your head and it’s like all of the weight is lifted off of your shoulders.

“Hey, sweetheart.. Did I wake you?”

You breathe out a heavy sigh of relief and shake your head, not caring that he can’t see it. “No,” You immediately say. “I was already awake.”

Kyle chuckles, murmuring, “Staying up for my call, I see?”

You return a quiet and soft laugh, turning your head to partially look out the window. “Maaaybe..” You pause for a moment, your smile faltering ever so slightly. “I miss you.” Kyle doesn’t miss a beat. “I miss you too, dove. More than anything.” You can’t help the blush that rises to your cheeks, your free hand coming up and clutching the locket. “How is it going? Your mission, I mean.” You borderline whisper, but you never have to ask. He always tells you what he can, but you just want to hear his voice instead of listening to old videos or voicemails for a change. Kyle hums excitedly, a slight crunch coming over the phone—he must be eating. “It’s been good! Price said we should be nearly done now. Last home stretch.”

You shuffle properly back onto your pillow, plugging your phone into the charger, and laying the phone on the bed. You click the speaker button and lay your head down. “You there, [Name]?” Kyle asks, nearly concerned.

“Mhm, just putting you on speaker..”

Kyle doesn’t say anything for a moment, but when he does, his voice is damn near vulnerable. “You don’t know how excited I am to come home to you, sweetheart. It’s been a gruelin’ mission..”

You put your hand near your phone instinctively, as if you could comfort him physically through the phone. “I wish I could help you, Kyle.” You whisper softly into the phone, your heart tightening at the thought of his distress. He takes care of you in so many ways and you want to return the favor “You know what? When you come home, Kyle, give me a heads up. I’ll make us some dinner, we can play a bunch of games, anything you want. How about it?”

He laughs softly, like his ugly mood has been lightened. “Yeah? You wanna?”

“Of course I want to,” You answer without a doubt. “You work hard, Kyle. Too hard. We need to spend time together and you need to get taken care of. Two birds with one stone.”

You nearly think you can hear Kyle tearing up, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “Okay.. Okay, dove. Yeah, we can do that.”

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jomeimei421 · 5 months

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Because I haven’t finished ORV (took an indefinite break but I like it loads so I’ll go back eventually) I’m curious <- saw your tags on the fix it fic reblog

The story that the MC reads, is it an actual story irl and the manhwa is quite literally a fanfic?

The book that Kim Dokja reads is an in-universe webnovel called Three Ways of Surviving the Apocalypse (TWSA).

TWSA isn’t an actual webnovel that we can read, but we know it wasn’t going to end happily for its protagonist, Yoo Joonghyuk.

In ORV, the world of TWSA becomes reality and the plot is functionally KDJ’s TWSA self insert fix-it fic where he uses his knowledge of the world and the story in order to bring YJH and all his companions to a “happy end” and look cool and smart in the process

That’s not the only reason I brought up ORV in the context of that post though! Without spoiling anything, it gets clearer the further you read but KDJ is a “reader” through and through.

He’s not great at telling stories, he’s a HORRIBLY unreliable narrator, and even though he knows what he wants YJH’s ending to look like, he doesn’t really want to think about what an end to the scenario looks for himself.

Because of his special skill, the Fourth Wall, he sees the world around him as fiction so it’s very, very difficult for anything to get through to him — for better or worse. KDJ is also extremely fatalistic, and assumes he already knows how things will turn out before he even tries to do or say anything. A lot of the time, it leads to him funneling himself into a bad outcome because he thinks it’s inevitable.

Basically ORV is trying to bait you into doing for KDJ what KDJ is doing for YJH. That’s just a tiny sliver of the tip of the iceberg though…

I really recommend reading the webnovel for yourself! It will change something permanently in your brain chemistry and you will never look at another piece of media the same way again

#orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #omniscient reader #Mei talks #answered asks

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sipsteainanxiety · 1 year

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˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖ valentine's day brings promises of chocolates and roses, hugs and kisses, smiles and laughter. but this year it also happens to bring along something more... bittersweet ˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖

welcome to dark chocolates, a multi-fandom valentine's day collab brought to you by the teahouse, a discord server ran by @petrichorium and myself. you will find stories of romance and love, yes, but with a twist!

the deadline for this collab is, of course, valentine's day, so expect pieces to be posted around then and subsequently updated on this masterlist! you can also track the #teahouse collab: dark chocolates tag for fics as they are uploaded.

please be mindful of the tags listed for each fic. we hope you enjoy all the following wonderful pieces written by the wonderful authors in the server. happy reading! ❦

for you, anything by @tsukkismoonlight

pairing: nakedtoaster x reader

mentions: general warnings around breakups, thoughts/anxiety related to self image/self worth

summary: you've sworn off love. after the way your last ex treated you, after all of the heartbreak, and all of the nights you lost to someone who didn't care, you have had enough. or, that's what the plan had been. you wouldn't have guessed that a tiny fan server with less than ten members hid someone who made everything feel like all of that pain was worth it. and you, they'd do just about anything.

idk man by @antheawritings

pairing: onion thief x reader

mentions: character death

summary: dead grandpa :( but it’s okay bc sexy onion man :)

cacoethes by @venexus

pairing: aki hayakawa x reader

mentions: prior toxic relationship (reader & unnamed ex), romantic tension, smoking

summary: cacoethes (n.) - the urge to do something inadvisable.

alternatively: when you escape a toxic ex, your favourite work colleague is there to pick up the pieces.

untitled by @petrichorium

pairing: diluc ragnvindr x reader

mentions: sfw, royal au, reader is explicitly female, canon typical violence, family death, mourning

summary: in which after five years spent rampaging amongst the frigid tundras and snowy forests of snezhnaya in the aftermath of his father’s death, crown prince diluc ragnvindr finally makes the journey home with a life-threatening injury—and an unanticipated companion.

standing still by @lou-struck

pairing: wakatoshi ushijima x reader

mentions: breakup angst

summary: you have been together for years, but it doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

a persistent lack of follow through by CooPigeonCoo (ao3)

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

mentions: exes, breaking up & making up, angst with a happy ending, personal growth, drinking, sexual content, child abuse, humor, pining, natural disasters, serious injuries, domestic fluff

summary: shouto had learned a lot from his father; how to take a hit, how to pull himself back up, and how to hold a grudge.

but one thing endeavor could never teach his children was how to be a good partner.

shouto had to learn that particular skill the hard way.

-----

he had spent long, sleepless nights reflecting on the things you had told him; the reasons you left. every moment of your acquaintance was turned over repeatedly in his head and examined until one devastating conclusion was reached:

"i was a bad boyfriend," shouto muttered dejectedly, idly picking at the label of the shochu bottle in the middle of the table.

----- a story where shouto loves, loses, and learns.

the night train by @pikatsum (tumblr) / Undercover_Royalty (ao3)

pairing: midoriya izuku x reader

mentions: SFW, some angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader

summary: “what, did we both get dumped, tonight?” you ask, ever tactless in the face of silence.

through the sniffles, the hooded man gives a little jolt that might have been a laugh. it’s a start, at least.

when the night calls by @sipsteainanxiety

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

mentions: char death (bkg) but not reaaalllyyy, aged up chars (25+), supernatural elements in a pro-hero au, grief/mourning, horror-esque but it's romantic i promise, hurt/comfort

summary: you thought katsuki was gone—that he had abandoned you in this life to move on to the next. you saw his body—lifeless, cold, still. saw him get lowered into the ground in his dark casket enveloped in his hero colors. you stayed, for hours after the funeral, at his grave.

you thought he was dead. that he'd left you alone.

you were wrong.

#teahouse collab: dark chocolates #nakedtoaster x reader #onionthief x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #ushijima x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #blooming panic x reader #genshin x reader #chainsaw man x reader #haikyuu x reader #mha x reader

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ishipmutualrespect · 6 months

Note

Hi! Whats your top 5 favourite fics?

Hiii, thanks for sending this 😊

1. Mine would be you by @crinkle-eyed-boo

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

2. Tired tired Sea by @mediawhorefics

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

3. Unbelievers @isthatyoularry

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

4. Escapade by dolce_piccante

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

5. Take me higher than I’ve ever been by @ireallysawanangel

Harry is pretty simple. He goes to work everyday, comes home, then watches Netflix with his cat. And if he happens to have a tiny little crush on his coworker, then that’s just his own business.

[Or the one where Harry and Louis work together and Louis starts to notice Harry back. Featuring a wedding, a sassy cat, and first times.]

#I tried to tag all the authors that I could #love all of your fics so much #sending so much love your ways for writing them

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elvisabutler · 1 year

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tinsel ( or how to be inventive with austin butler )

summary: decorations for christmas trees don't always immediately make their way back into their boxes when it comes to you and your boyfriend taking them down. case in point: the tinsel. fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: austin butler x female reader word count: 1701 warning: p in v sex ( unprotected, but honestly at this point assume i imagine the reader as having some of her own bc ). soft sub austin. soft dom reader. inappropriate use of tinsel. mild bondage/restraining. author's note: consider this a companion piece to my fic twinkle lights. and if you like this try underneath the tree by @dilfelvis because they also have a sub tied up austin and it is a positively wonderful fic if i do say so myself. i'm also totally aware that tinsel does not really have the strength needed to hold someone back when you put tension on it but suspend your disbelief if you don't mind. beyond that, i've got a few things coming down the pipeline- both austin and elvis- one of which i am so proud of and can't wait to show you all. i'd say be prepared to get a lot of fics tomorrow and wednesday but every time i promise that i end up with egg on my face. so, we'll see. also @purejasmine i did say i'd likely have something out after the holidays and this is for you. know it might not be your normal cup of tea since i believe you err more toward dom austin but it is a little more toasty.

The day after Christmas is the day you're supposed to pack away everything, the tree, the decorations around the house and anything that was formerly on the tree. It's not a hard and set rule, you suppose, but it's one your parents always had taught you. They always would say that it if they didn't do it that day then it wouldn't get done until the middle of January with the hustle and bustle that life would cause. You had warned Austin about this rule the moment you were done decorating and even before you started, trying to make it so that there would be plenty of time for the two of you to enjoy your handiwork.

You should have known Austin would be a menace when it came to taking things down. It was fine when you were pulling things down from around the apartment, the wreath on the door, the various lights strewn about and the mistletoe that he took every opportunity to sneak both of you under, placing kisses to your lips, your face, everywhere he could reach until you were both laughing before taking it down.

That meant all that was left was the tree with the lights and the tinsel wrapped around it. It should be simple enough, nothing too complicated for you and Austin to handle and yet somehow Austin insists on this being complicated. First he decides he wants to take the lights off first, despite knowing that they were likely going to be tangled in the tinsel. Still you both managed to get the lights off mostly in one piece and now you find yourself taking the tinsel off, wrapping around itself in a bit of a ball as Austin is talking about something. Normally you'd be paying attention but right now- right this moment you're not in the mood to, you're annoyed with Austin because this shouldn't have taken that long and yet here you were at 3PM and you still had to take the actual tree down.

It's maybe for this reason that you find yourself on top of your boyfriend, watching him pull at his bonds of tinsel lightly while looking at you above him, teasing him in a way only you can with your lips ghosting over his neck and his chest and settling over his cock like you're going to suck only to just blow a tiny puff of air against it before moving back to your original perch with your uncovered pussy rubbing softly against him every so often.

"Y/N." He whines, canting his hips up, trying to gain some form of friction against your pussy. "Babe, I'm- Come on."

You smirk and pull yourself up a little. "No. You've been wasting time all day. I didn't mind it at the beginning but we could have been in bed already, you could be worshipping my body and I could be worshipping yours and yet here we are with me having to tease you while you can't touch."

Austin inhales sharply, looking like he wants to snarl at you but knowing he's earned this, earned your punishment of having him unable to touch you. After all he had been touching you all day and that was half the reason you two hadn't gotten as much done as you needed to get done. It didn't mean he had to like it- had to take it without a bit of sass. "Wasting time. That's what you call kissing you. You weren't complaining when I was doing it, babe." He knows saying that is playing with fire but at this point he'll take getting burned by you.

The head tilt you do toward him when he says that reminds him that playing with the fire that is you always does burn him more than he intends. Your hand moves to his chest, lightly scratching at his chest and down his torso, stopping just short of his cock before you speak. "Kisses aren't anything compared to having your cock in me or having your tongue against my clit. They aren't anything compared to my mouth around your cock, my hand stroking you." You finally allow yourself to wrap your hand around his cock, your thumb playing with the tip, smearing the precum leaking from all around before sticking your thumb in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

A noise leaves Austin's mouth that sounds like a choked off moan or a groan and you can't help the way you smile at it waiting to hear what he's going to say to you about it. What pretty pleas are going to come from his lips. "Mama- don't- What do I need to say? What do I have to do? I'm sorry. I know you wanted to get things done-"

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, soft at first before when pulling back your teeth pull at his lower lip. He shivers at the sensation before his mouth tries to follow you only to be stopped by the tinsel holding him back. "Baby." He keens.

"Baby? Mama?" You shake your head, grinding down just a bit. "Try again, Austin, baby boy."

His hips buck up against you despite the bindings on his ankles before he nods and looks at you. "Mama- Mommy- I don't- Just touch me, please. Wanna fuck you, wanna have you cum and then I'll do whatever you want. Deal with the tree naked, make you dinner, please, just let me touch you."

The words aren't making sense necessarily but you understand them, understand what he wants. He wants to be able to make it up to you, to earn his forgiveness for what he did and who were you to deny him that? After all, it was just today that he was being naughty, being too needy for you to remember that you had a task to do today. Besides, all that was left was taking the tree out. You lean your body over his, pressing every inch of your skin against his before your hands move up to the tinsel keeping him tied to the bed frame. It doesn't take but a moment to untie it, surprisingly and not even a moment after his arms are free, his hands are moving to your face, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. He didn't ask for permission and he knows that might make you mad, but you untied him, that should be enough permission, that should be your way of telling him he could touch. You nip at his tongue and his lips, kissing him back with equal fervor as you start to grind a little, wishing you had lined his cock up to your entrance before you had done this. He catches the fact that you want it though, moving his hand down and slapping your ass lightly to get you to shift up just enough that he's able to slide himself between your folds.

You hiss at the intrusion before allowing yourself to help him bottom out in you, being too greedy and too eager to have his cock in you to bother with prepping yourself fully. His answering groan makes you think you did the right thing, especially as his hands move to your hips, almost as if he plans on guiding you up and down on his cock. You place your hands over his and start to lift yourself up and down, starting slowly at first before you increase your pace. "Y/N, God, let me do this, you're going- wanna fuck you slower mama."

A head shake is the only response he gets as you keep bouncing up and down on his cock, moving one of his hands to play with your clit. He almost doesn't realize what you're doing before he starts to play with it, pressing his fingers against it, rubbing it faster and faster in a way he knows drives you wild. You can feel yourself clenching around him, feel that tightening of your orgasm inching closer and closer as you ride him. Speaking isn't something you can do right now, too occupied with the task at hand but Austin is doing enough for the both of you, cursing and groaning and saying things that are near incoherent. The noises of your combined juices make for an obscene sound that has you wondering just how much of a mess you're making of the bedsheets before realizing it's fine, you can just toss them in the wash after this.

"Love you so much, mama. So good to me, not punishing me too hard. Love-" He stops as you clench around him again, the words doing something to you as you slide down one more time, forcing him to bottom out one more time. His cock fills you in a way that has you swearing you feel it in your throat and you come with a huff of air leaving your throat, the scream you thought you could manage fluttering away as your cunt flutters around Austin's cock. He manages a few more thrusts into you before you feel him cumming, the warmth of it feeling comforting in some strange way.

At this point you find yourself flopped on top of Austin's torso, your fingers tracing shapes on his chest before you start to make a move to get up so that you two can clean up before his arms wrap around you and he shakes his head, one of his hands moving to stroke your hair. "Just- stay here for a minute, babe. Tree's not going anywhere and I want to just feel you around me for a little bit longer. Then we can shower, deal?"

You look up at him and find his blue eyes looking at you with a level of love you didn't think was possible and you remember that when he gives you that sort of look you're always a little too taken in by it to resist. A nod is all you can manage before you let your head fall back onto his chest, allowing yourself to relax just a bit longer.

The tree doesn't leave the house until the next morning.

tag list: @eliseinmemphis, @ab4eva, @butlersxbirdy, @aconflagrationofmyown, @floralcyanide, @oh-kurva, @blurredcolour

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #sub austin butler #sub!austin butler #ally writes

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misslavenderlady · 7 months

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Love at First Bite pt. 3💞

David/Female!OC & Male!OC/Female!OC

Summary: Months have gone by and the bond between Oliver and Sis has grown quite a lot. So much to a point where romance is in the air between them. When he proves how much he truly cares about her, the vampire king decides it's ready for the next step in bringing Oliver and his bride closer~

This was inspired by @ghoulgeousimmaculate and her characters from the series Party the Pain Away and the various fics that take place afterwards. Ghoulie and I discussed the possibility of having another boy join the coven after so many girls were brought in. Please read the previous parts if you haven't yet!

WARNINGS: Fic contains mentions of animal death, trauma, PTSD emotional manipulation, power dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics, threats, attempted mugging, knife, cut wound, mentions of blood/murder, sex and alcohol, bribery/blackmail. This has references to Ghoulie's stuff, and takes place in the modern world, not 1987.

5 Months Ago

Sis could never be alone with her thoughts for too long. She always had to keep herself distracted by something during the night. No matter what she was doing – spending time with her babies, going on dates, or hunting for food – she had to keep her mind from wandering..

When that happened, terrible memories crept into her brain. Horrifying visions of the nightmares she had experienced while wide awake began to play back. Her mother's murder by her own hand. The first time she witnessed the boys feed. Hunters stealing her child and making an escape into the daylight.

Those were the memories that she would be forced to relive again and again and AGAIN the day she left this world for good. No beastly monster could ever hope to see the light of a peaceful realm after death. She had to make the most of her time alive.

After all, she almost didn't make it the night that Cyrus the terrible tore her head from her pregnant body. It was truly hell for her. For them all.

The times when she struggled with those memories were the ones that she found herself longing for something from her human life. Something that was not corrupted by vampires and bloodshed. She had something long ago, which was taken by that very thing.

Queen. Her beloved kitty cat.

Though spoiled beyond belief and incredibly sassy in nature, Queen was a wonderful pet to Sis. Her fur was always soft and fluffy, making it extra pleasant to stroke. Sis loved the way she perched on her stomach to act as a heating pad whenever she dealt with monthly cramps. Her soft purrs and head rubs made Sis' feel safe and loved.

They were loyal companions until the very end…..when David snapped poor Queen's neck.

Sis rarely thought about that terrible night. Thinking about holding the body of her fur baby after the horrid crunch of broken bones filled her ears never failed to bring tears to Sis' eyes. The only reason she began to think about her cat again after years of being a vampire was because she had found an old belonging of Queens.

It had been an uneventful night. Some spring cleaning to occupy her mind. Sis was simply looking for some old antiques to either pawn or decorate the nest with. A velvet jewelry box had caught her eye, sparking an old memory of what she had put inside long ago.

Queen's collar. The last thing she had to remember the kitty by. It even had the tag with Sis's old address on it. Now it was a faded memory of what was once home for the two.

Any work that had captured Sis's focus was forgotten by her. She was completely stuck. Just staring at the trinket and letting tears slip down her cheeks as she grieved in silence.

"My sweet," a raspy voice called to Sis, pulling her attention away. "What're you up to tonight?"

David. Of course, he would pick the worst possible time to try to cause some mischief. Her grip tightened around the woven fabric of the old collar. Her hand trembled terribly, collecting all of her anxiety and anger into one tiny part of her body.

How dare he show his face now? The murderer who took the innocent pet from this world too soon. Even with love and happiness and a beautiful family, Sis would never forget what a monster her husband was. He struck pure terror in her heart when he took her kitty away.

He knew how much she loved her baby, and he still killed the cat without an iota of guilt in his blackened heart.

"Nothing," Sis said, putting the collar back in the jewelry box before shoving it away. "Where's that bottle of absinthe we have?"

David raised an eyebrow at her question. When Sis needed a powerful drink, she usually went for vodka. She had to be in a really bad mental state if she wanted something even harder.

Still, he knew exactly why she wanted it. He could hear all the mournful thoughts of the pet he destroyed long ago. Her lingering trauma from the incident with Cyrus made him realize she needed something to help her feel better.

"Bottom center cupboard on our drink shelf in the study," he told her. "It's tucked away in the very back."

Sis nodded, immediately taking leave. She kept her eyes focused on the ground she moved on, not meeting David's gaze. Though it wasn't exactly subtle, David excused that, as he knew her negative feelings were caused by him.

The darkness in him did not feel remorse for what he did long ago. In his corrupted mind, it was a necessary step in the training to bring the little lady into his life. The queen of the undead needed to be aware that actions had consequences.

Still, David and his boys had grown softer since Sis had come into their lives. She brought out warmth and love they had once assumed was gone when their humanity was destroyed. The past few years had been nothing but sacrifice from her.

She deserved so much for all that she had given for this family. Perhaps the least he could do was provide a new companion as a replacement for Queen. Something protective and loyal, yet kind and gentle with her. Something to keep her safe.

Something…..or someone.

Current Day

Oliver wasn't sure what he did to deserve someone as fantastic as Sis, but he wasn't going to take it for granted.

Ever since the girls night out she had with her lady friends, Oliver has gotten the opportunity to spend more and more time with her. It became a special bonding experience for the two of them.

A few times a week, Sis would stroll into the restaurant on the arm of a gorgeous date or two. Sometimes it was her husbands, other times it was one of her girlfriends, and sometimes it was a fresh face that ended up disappearing before the date even ended. Oliver didn't know what their problem was ditching her like that, but that just motivated him into making her night extra special.

Every time the closing hour came, Sis stuck around a little longer. She always saved some wine for the two of them to share, invited him to take a seat, and spent some time chatting with Oliver.

It was one of his favorite things to look forward to during the week. He endured plenty of chaotic shifts just to get his moments alone with her.

He was pleasantly surprised to find out how much they had in common. They both had a parent who lost their spouse, but still persisted in life, they both valued hard work, and they both adored children. It was just so easy to talk to her about the ups and downs of life.

"I gotta say, you're really lucky having such a big family," Oliver complimented her over their drinks. "I wanted brothers and sisters so bad when I was a kid."

"I'm sure you would have been the best big brother to them," Sis assured him. It brings me joy to have my family by my side, but I do get what it's like to be lonely. To want some companionship."

That was certainly something Oliver could understand. His father couldn't bear to find love again when his mother passed. He didn't blame the guy, as he talked so highly of her when recounting stories of her life. Even if he could barely remember her, Oliver could tell his mother was the light of his father's life.

He had always wanted to find that kind of love too.

"I'm just grateful for all the after school stuff. Playing basketball with my friends and coaching the younger kids was always a highlight after my day."

"I think it's sweet how devoted you were to them," Sis cooed. "A good man who cares about little ones is hard to come by."

Oliver's cheeks flushed and his smile widened from his feelings of bashfulness. No matter how many nights he sat across from Sis and talked about life, he always found himself overwhelmed with positivity from her words. She was just so full of warmth and kindness. He treasured that quality in her more than she probably realized.

"It's the least I could do. And even so, I think you're even more admirable. Being a parent to three babies and helping take care of several others is no small task."

"You mean that?"

"Of course I do!" Oliver assured her. "I'm sure you're an amazing mom to them."

Sis smiled back at the redheaded boy. Oliver had such a natural gift for making her happy. For far too long now she had heard the despicable thoughts of humans around her. Ones that saw her as a piece of meat to stick their dick into, or only told her pretty lies to get on her good side for their personal benefit.

But whenever she gazed into his mind, she only saw kindness. Someone who genuinely wanted to listen and be her friend. Sure, he found her to be quite attractive, but his desire to be respectful outweighed everything else. He supported her other relationships and felt happy just getting the chance to spend time with her.

The more she got to know him, the more Sis found herself growing attached to the human. So much to a point where the fear of going out into the cold, dark world was no longer as strong as it once was.

"Ollie," she spoke, reaching outward to stroke her painted nails across his fingertips. "It's a beautiful night out. You wanna go for a walk along the beach?"

Green eyes widened and his freckled cheeks stretched to accommodate his big smile.

"I'd love to!"

It had been ages since Sis felt comfortable enough to go out without her mates acting as security. Though she was well aware of their presence lurking in the shadows not too far from where she went, progress was still being made.

Sis loved the open space of the Santa Carla Beach. Having a slower time in the year allowed her to enjoy the long miles of sand and water. Just the sounds of the breeze and the rocking waves to act as background.

It was all so perfectly peaceful, and Oliver helped make it even more special.

He truly was a gentleman, holding out his arm for her to hold onto. All she had to do was stay by his side and nuzzle close as she talked about whatever she wanted.

All the while, Oliver's heart was racing like a jackrabbit. It made the vampire queen delighted to know he was so head over heels for her. Even without the physical reactions, she could still hear a massive collection of wild thoughts in his head. They all spun around like a tornado.

She's so amazing. I feel like such a dork compared to her. Am I walking too fast? Too slow? Her perfume smells incredible. She's so beautiful. Don't fuck this up, Oliver. You're so lucky to be with her.

I really want to kiss her.

Sis sighed peacefully and relaxed against her tall companion. Such frantic thoughts made for the perfect lullaby to soothe a stressed vampire.

"I'm sorry, am I being too quiet?" Oliver asked out loud. Little did he know he was being far from it in his head.

"Not at all, darling~" Sis assured him.

Boy, did that get his heart fluttering even faster.

Sis enjoyed the sound of it all throughout their stroll. Even as they moved out of the sandy stretch of land and back onto the concrete sidewalks that connected into the city area, Sis was only focused on her companion.

So much to a point where she almost wasn't paying attention when a new presence made itself known.

"FREEZE!"

The sudden shout made the two of them jolt in surprise. Both their sets of eyes locked on a figure that had jumped out from behind a random street corner. A black ski mask covered the man's entire face while dark clothes and gloves covered the rest of his body.

In his hand was a switchblade knife. Long and shining under the moonlight. Oliver's heart nearly stopped at the sight of the weapon.

"Don't do anything stupid," the man hissed. "You're both gonna do exactly as I say. Got it?"

Sis was not at all impressed by this idiotic robber. Too many times she'd dealt with his kind. They all wave around some weapon that can't actually do permanent damage on a creature like herself, make empty threats in exchange for money or jewelry, and yet scream like babies as she tore their throats out. They never learned their lesson.

But Oliver didn't know that. In his mind, she was just as human as he was, and the first instinct he had was to protect her from getting hurt by this stranger.

To Sis' surprise, Oliver gently tugged her behind his back. He put both his hands up in defense while keeping her blocked from any attacks he feared the robber would pull.

"Okay okay," he said, trying his best to sound calm and collected. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt her."

The robber gripped his switchblade tighter, waving it in the redhead's face.

"I won't hurt her so long as she hands over all the jewelry she's got on. Starting with that fancy looking choker."

If her heart still could beat, it would have skipped at that moment. Sis' eyes widened in fear and her hand fell to the base of her necklace out of instinct.

Besides her wedding ring, that particular piece of jewelry meant the world to her. David had gifted it to her as a way to cover up the nasty scar that Cyrus left the night he took her head off. She couldn't stand the sight of it without the haunting memories, so David made sure she had the beautiful piece to cover it and take her mind off of that traumatizing experience.

Not only that, but having a collar style brought her memories of when Queen was still alive. Though it wasn't like the collar her kitty had, such a style of jewelry had familiar aspects that gave Sis comfort. Like she would always have a piece of her companion with her.

She couldn't bear the idea of getting her choker taken away. Oliver could sense the fear in her heart as she cowered behind him, gripping his arm tightly.

He wouldn't let her get hurt in any way.

"Look, man," Oliver said. "I've got over a hundred and fifty dollars from the tips I made tonight in my wallet. I've also got my debit card. They're all yours if you want, just please don't take her stuff."

"Oliver…" Sis whispered. She couldn't believe how even in the face of danger he was willing to sacrifice his own belongings so hers wouldn't be taken away.

That answer didn't fly with the robber though.

"Fuck you, asshole! I said EVERYTHING," the robber snapped, getting angrier by the moment. He wasn't fucking around, and he made certain the two understood him loud and clear.

With a flick of his wrist, the robber swiped the switchblade outward, slicing towards Oliver. Though he jumped backward, the sharp edge nicked his skin, causing him to yipe out in pain.

Sis was ready to start breaking bones and tearing limbs. How dare this piece of shit hurt Oliver? It was like kicking a puppy. Even so, he must have had the same thing in mind, because he acted faster than she did.

Even with his new wound, Oliver moved swiftly, using a fist to knock the handle out of the robber's fingers. Merely half a second after that, he threw himself shoulder-first into the upper torso of his attacker, knocking him off balance and sending him down on his ass. It was truly a "blink and you'll miss it" moment.

"Leave us alone, creep!" Oliver scolded at him, kicking the discarded switchblade across the pavement and into a nearby storm drain. It clanged against metal bars before disappearing from sight.

Even with a disarmed and injured attacker, Oliver and Sis didn't wait around to see what he planned next. Hand-in-hand, they ran in the opposite direction, putting plenty of distance in between themselves and him. With a good pace, they were able to make it out of the area and back to the entrance of his apartment building. Even something small and dingy was better than dealing with a mugging.

"Ollie, you crazy boy!" Sis said in shock, ushering him inside. She couldn't believe the amount of bravery the human had shown. "You could have gotten hurt worse. You could have gotten killed!"

Even with her frightened expression, Oliver returned one with a soft look in his eyes.

"So could you," he pointed out. "I was scared to death he was gonna do something bad to you. I couldn't let that happen!" He tried to fish his apartment keys out, but was too distracted by the blood dripping and pain shooting in his hand.

Though the bright red painted his pale skin beautifully, Sis was surprisingly not in the mood to feed. Her undead heart was aching over how Oliver put himself in danger like that. He had no idea how unnecessary it was to do something courageous for a vampire.

"Let's get you patched up, Hun," she cooed, taking the keys from his grasp in order to unlock the door.

Though Oliver didn't have much since moving to Santa Carla, he at least had preparations for emergencies. A hefty first aid kit was packed away under the kitchen sink, completely stocked with enough gauze, disinfectant, and wound cleaning supplies for a whole army.

Even with his competency in caring for the cut, Sis still helped as much as she could. She tenderly held his injured hand while he used the good one to finish cleaning and bandaging. Her soft fingers caressed his skin to help soothe him more.

"There! Good as new!" Oliver stated proudly. His hand would heal in no time.

"Well, at least let me help a little bit more," Sis offered. She lifted Oliver's hand to her lips, gently kissing over his bandages. Whenever one of her babies got a boo boo, she did the same thing. It made the redhead smile.

"That does help me feel better, thank you.*

The two of them fell silent for a moment. It made Sis ponder about what this boy had done for her. For months now he had taken care of her as a go-to server. He loved to wait on her hand and foot. The nights they spent drinking wine and talking about life made her feel like her heart could start beating again. He was just so genuine and sweet.

And now he had proven he'd put his life on the line for her. Though she was more than capable of protecting herself, Cyrus had taken away a piece of her bravery. Her dignity. Her power.

Oliver returned it to her. He wouldn't ever let anything hurt her when she was out enjoying the night she was reborn into. That was something she couldn't possibly repay him for in thanks.

But it couldn't hurt to try anyway.

"Maybe this will help even more," she whispered. With her eyes fluttering shut and her body moving forward, Sis brought herself in nice and close so she could kiss him.

The hammering of Oliver's heart was like a sympathy in her ears. His lips were red-hot on her chilled skin. Her breathless body enjoyed the sigh of delight he let out. Both his arms wrapped around her as she took hold of his face in her hands.

He was practically putty in her hands now. Warm and cozy and full of joy.

Oh God, I think I love her.

Make that full of love.

Outside the apartment, a familiar figure was watching the dim light flicker in one of the windows. Smoke puffed past his lips as he took another lungful of his cigarette. He had gone through the whole smoke, and yet he didn't once take his eyes off of the silhouette before him.

His wife was kissing the human waiter. A passionate kiss. One that radiated with gratitude and warmth. He would have been overwhelmed by the little green monster called jealousy if he knew Sis would push her luck with Oliver. But she didn't. Their kiss ended with the two holding each other. A hug of great tenderness to share their gratitude in one anothers safety.

He knew Sis was falling for Oliver. She would have drained him ages ago if she wasn't. Though he preferred to see his fellow coven members touch his bride rather than some lowly human, he knew this was what was best for her. She needed a new love. A companion to make her feel safe.

"Everything go alright, my king?"

David turned his head away from the window to look at the guest he now had. Hidden in the shadows was a figure clothed from head to toe in black. A ski mask shielded his face.

"It did," he answered, flicking the butt of his cigarette onto the ground. "You can take the mask off. Nobody will see you."

The figure nodded before peeling the mask off his head. A mess of dark curls were freed, revealing the appearance of Matthew, Oliver's coworker. It wasn't long ago that he had offered the redhead advice on playing it safe around David and his wife. To be good and live to see another day.

But even those who looked out for the innocent in Santa Carla still remained trapped under the claws of the vampire king.

"You did good tonight, kid," David complimented him. He slipped a gloved hand into his pocket, revealing a massive envelope stuffed full with five thousand dollars. Much more than what Oliver has offered to spare Sis.

Matthew frowned, hesitating at the reward. It never felt right doing things like this, and it never got better.

"I hope I didn't hurt him too bad. I wish I had used a fake knife instead…"

"Nonsense! It wouldn't have been authentic," David smirked, pushing the cash into Matthew's hand.

"Don't beat yourself up over it. You did your job, and now you can go home to that handsome fiancé of yours. I'm sure that money will be quite helpful for your wedding. Ian's a very lucky guy. Wouldn't want to lose someone special like that, right?"

Matthew gulped, hands trembling and growing clammy from the king mentioning his husband-to-be. He had made threats to stop by for a visit if Matthew didn't agree to this in the first place.

"Yes, my king," he sighed. "So long as you and the queen are happy, then we're happy".

David grinned devilishly to himself. Now that the redheaded boy had passed the test, he knew for certain he was going to make the perfect gift for Sis. With his eyes moving back over the light of the window, his mind danced with devious plans of what was to come next for Oliver.

"Oh believe me, I am ecstatic."

end of part 3

Tag List:

@ghoulgeousimmaculate @aairadaebak @vampirefilmlover @thelostone91 @palomam18 @crustyboypix @themarginalthinker @britany1997 @michael-after-hours @6lostgirl6 @kurt-nightcrawler @bezinful @legal-lost-boy @american-idiot-jpg @desoolate @oceansrose2002 @bloodywickedvamp @vigdys @crustyraccoon @charlizekkelly

#the lost boys #tlb #party the pain away #female oc #male oc #the lost boys x oc

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