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#blood for the dandelion god

romijuli · 11 months

Note

Chel! What're your top 5 fave tsuzu cards? :3

SORRY THIS TOOK A BIT I HAD FAMILY OVER but!!! on to The Boye <3

i'm gonna grab three ssrs, one sr and one r. just for fun. also in no particular order!

Everyone from the Minagi Family (aka Last Planet SSR): the initial promo art almost sent me down the stairs. the unbloomed made me trip UP the stairs. i was not looking at the art on either occasion, i was just THINKING about it a little too close to the stairs. SO pretty what the fuck

MANKAI Memory: i was tempted to put glitter here, but oooough i love the memory card. the unbloomed is so nice looking and i just REALLY love everything he's got going on in the bloomed. also the backstage is SO sweet and imo a very subtle but very nice step towards the growth we see in literary impasse: his childhood item is a t-shirt he begged his parents to let him buy, like the ONE thing he ever let himself ask for, and that being his choice for the birthday bromide shoot plays SO nicely with the literary impasse story being about him learning to be self-indulgent.

At the End of the World: huh all of these are drama, that was an accident. YOU THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE THE DOG CARD DIDN'T YOU but it's this one. the unbloomed is aDORABLE and then whatever's happening in the bloomed. also i just really like liar night, it's not really relevant to the overall story or character development but tsuzuru struggling with the whole amogus thing because he's just too honest and doesn't do the best with improv is very cute.

honorable mentions to the dog card and the harlot.

Heroic Tale of the Pure Detective: i picked this one because it's actually the card that sold me on the summer outfit! he looks cute in it. why is he eating in so many of his cards. is that curry bread i want some. also hi Konjou i guess. i know everyone says Kanagi but according to the newly-voiced event story it sure is Konjou.

honorable mention to box boy, who i was so close to putting on here. also a note for initial sr tsuzuru who came home five fucking times in my first month on en and is directly responsible for tsuzuru being my fave. WAIT ALSO SUNNY SPRING. LOOK AT THAT FACE.

Chomp Chomp Cupcake: LOOK HOW CUTE THAT UNBLOOMED IS. honestly my fave r overall, with the possible exception of guy staring into the void thoroughly unamused. i wanna squish him and/or steal his cupcake.

honorable mention to the bastard (merlin) and also the hermes one i spent 18 real world dollars to bloom

#blood for the dandelion god #do i dare put this in a real tsuzuru tag

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astralnymphh · 7 months

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⋆.ೃ;aestra's footnotes V. 🦢

ellie laying on your lap hcs ♡

(pic kinda relates to the hcs if u ignore the blood 🥴)

content; fluff, specific scenario, tlou universe, joels alive

an; giving you guys all my pure, fluff thoughts before dumping my gloomy ass angst within a week 🤣

𖤐. spots you taking a break during patrol, slumping down the base of a rigid trunk, and immediately scrambles over with tired knees. plop goes the side of her head on your cushioned thighs. she don't ask. don't ask why. let her bee 🐝

☠︎︎. lovesss the girls with big thighs, and small thighs. either way, they replicate two fluffy pillows, and that's all she needs. also loves running her fingertips between the bottom crevice lining your thigh-and-the ground. her love language is touch. 100%

𖤐. will inevitably begin to squeeze and prod the fat of your inner thigh with needy fingers, murmuring "hmmpp, so soft.." in that husky tune, cause she. is. in. heaaavenn.

☠︎︎. godddd, can't you just envision her pursed smile when your fingers begin to twine with her timber auburn strands, in reaction nuzzling her nose closer to your leg and poking you. a few gusts of chopped air hitting your thighs when she chuckles. "yuhhpp, keep doin' th-t.." rasped ellie, muzzled in the warmth of your thigh.

𖤐. your bored eyes catch sight of the dandelion cluster birthed from the stumps surrounding grass. hmm, are you thinking what I'm thinking? yeah. you start plucking the flora and threading it through her locks. ellie's tired ass doesn't notice the strange ruffling in her scalp at first 'till a blotch of lemon yellow clouds her peripherals.

"what the h-" her eyes screw over to you, head rotating.

you pivot her back with a firm, but loving, grip, "stay still."

"are you for real putting-"

"yes."

"tchh-" she hisses out into the air, "it's just gonna fall out.."

"but it's worth it."

"mhmm.. but you'd look way better, l'mme do it-"

☠︎︎. sometimes, instead, she'll laze between your tempered legs and slants her head on your thigh. it's cozier this way. oh my god and the way her lashes would graze your skin lightly.. goofbye..

𖤐. falls asleep sometimes and snores on you. probably drools cuz I said so. anyways, you flick her on the head to wake her up like "els, u're drooling again." and she just pretends like it never happened. "wha- whaattt.. nope, i did not. dunno' what u're talking bout babe."

☠︎︎. other times, she'll lounge the back of her head there, staring up at you and the ether that crowns your head high above. ellie rejoices in the seraphic depicture that is your face. so, god, whenever she gets a long glimpse of you, her worries wash away, and forgets the troubles lacerating at her composure. it feels like fireflies dancing on her freckles, midface heating up whenever she's with you in this position. heaven in her world.

𖤐. hair always gets rustled up when she lifts her weight off, and no, she doesn't bother to fix it. treading around the patrol route, looking like she got jumped by five infected.

☠︎︎. one time, you guys succumbed to slumber on joel's sofa with ellie, her head on your lap per usual. bro strolled in and caught you two like this, snapping a photo with his clunky ass vintage camera and then would show it to ellie the next morning, whispering, "pshh, bunch'a sleepyheads."

(gif from elliedisorder)

MASTERLIST

#ellie williams #⋆.ೃ;cuddly ellie 🔛🔝#ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x fem!reader #lesbian #sapphic #ellie williams x reader

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ohnonononononono567 · 3 months

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Carry me - Simon "Ghost" Riley x m!reader (angst)

Games

Bit by Bit

(This was made after 1am and I projected my OCD onto a fictional character so that's on me guys, my bad. Any bad writing can be blamed on the fact I was watching chernobyl with my cat and eating the saltiest fried chicken sandwich known as i wrote this)

"Simon-"

"Don't." He grunted, leaving his position in your bed. Never his.

The day he admits it's his bed as well, is the day he has the ability to sleep peacefully. And God knows when he'll be granted that right.

He awoke to the sound of screams, his ears ringing. The feeling of water and blood rapidly running under his skin, as if his flesh begged to be free.

You had rolled over to hold his midriff, and Lord help him with how much he's grown attached to you, with how much he wanted to pin you down as if you were nothing more than another enemy in his eyes.

He shot up, just to feel the familiar sting of a hook in his rib as he had sat on the bed.

Stepping out onto the patio with a grunt, a tank top and some joggers on with slippers. The apartment's patio serving as the perfect place to have a smoke, the dog yawning to join. Big fella, she was, nudging snout onto Simons leg.

Sitting down, he grabs a light, lighting the cigarette he had hiding cheekily in his pocket, when he had swore up and down he wasn't smoking anymore less than 8 hours ago.

Burn your wrist.

Shut up Riley, you know better than to act on that.

Do it now.

No.

He leaned back, allowing the nicotine to enter his system, and the tobacco to leave a lasting smell on the rough pads of his fingers. He watched you from the corner of your eye. Silent panic. Wanting to help him. But you can't. All he can do is lie to a therapist and come home to you.

He made this worse. Leave him. You're nothing, but he's worse.

Stop.

He saw you at your worst. Why stay?

Because he saw me at my worst. And he stayed.

He shouldn't have.

Stop.

He knows nothing about you and he goes to sleep saying bull crap about loving you.

"STOP!"

He yells, grabbing his hair in two fists on the side of his head, the cigarette between his fingers, lingering in the night air as the sound of the city stand beneath him.

He looks at you, and you seem to just be staring. Frozen.

It spitballs, as he meets your gaze;

"Stop fucking staring at me like that yeah? You can't fucking help me! You deal with me, or you kick me out. Should've done that by now if you've ever known what's good for you!" He says, throwing his hands up in the air out of exasperation, the dog yelping a bit as she backs away. He heads back inside, putting out the cigarette, and snatching his blanket, heading towards the couch.

You gave him a look as he left. He knew that look. You've set boundaries, he was trying to be healthy for you. Honest. You wouldn't stand for verbal abuse, nor disrespect. But he was weak. Useless in the presence of a man like you.

He knew better than to immediately go to you. He left earlier for the gym that morning, called off work, went to one of those shitty manmade parks with more dog piss than a fire hydrant, and sat himself down. Right in the grass, watching a single dandelion. It was weak. But it still stood in the grass. It moved with the wind, even when it lost it's soft white petals.

And when it was stripped naked, bare, with nothing left to offer, there was another dandelion there. Planted from the wind carrying it. Ready to repeat the cycle.

Why is he doing this? He'll repeat what his father did. He was the end of it. No relatives to fall back on. God knows how much he's begged to bring his brother, Tommy back.

But that's just it. He's the end of the cycle.

Get up. Nobody is coming to save you.

He stands before you now, with nothing to offer, but the willingness to move with you if you'd allow him. If you'd allow a weak man like him to remain with you. He'll continue to lose his petals, but you'll help him plant new flowers. To utter the words,

"I can never truly tell you how sorry I am, love. You are the man I want. You are everything. And it's not enough. But I am trying."

Looking up at you, his bones brittle, his eyes heavy.

He wants to sleep. To feel his flesh settle, his mind quiet.

And as you embrace him, he can feel every molecule in his skin burning.

And if you ever let reality hit that you deserve someone who could think like a bloody normal human for once, would he continue to survive for as long as he could without you to carry him. Until he allowed the world to end what it started.

You are everything.

Laying in bed, your hands hesitantly rubbing his back in soft circular motions as he keeps his head in your tummy, soft breathing as the dog nuzzled into the crook between you two, soft kisses lingering on his tongue, it leaves him before he can chase after it;

"...Would you ever marry me?"

@tabloid-junki3 i dont think i cooked but i did heat it up in the microwave so

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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Omg monster reader trying to comfort yandere whos crying because reader is being so sweet to them? Like reader is so cute and they cry because they can’t believe they deserve u and reader basically comforts then making their tears even more? Like “don’t cryy its okay” “what did i do to deserve youuu *cries even more*”

The waterworks start as they secure the final latch on the back door.

You stand behind your caretaker all smiles as they block off your only source of freedom, leaves in your hair and blood on your claws. Your arms are filled with whatever you were able to get your hands during your afternoon of free time; bounty slipping from grasp as their tears fall. Why are they crying? You only showed them all the nice things you collected for them.

God I don't deserve you...

Your heightened senses pick up on the note of weakness. Your caretaker wipes at their red eyes and fakes as smile as they look up at you. "You have a good time, hun?"

"Always! Would've been more fun if you were with me, though."

Their breath hitches. "I'm glad... You didn't see any other humans today did you?"

"No, but if I had I would ran straight home like you said."

"Good... Good." It almost broke their heart to remember the shock on your face from what they told you others would do if they found you. "I'm sorry about earlier. You surprised me is all. Can you show me some of the things you picked up?"

You drop to your knees, sorting through the pile. Some shiny rocks. A bird you manage to get the jump on. And an small assortment of flowers. You liked those the most. Since things were finally warming up, they were some of the first of their kind you had seen in a while - plus what human doesn't like pretty things? It seemed like none according to the shows you watched, and your very own as their eyes began to water more as you show them a crushed dandelion.

"I got you these. I wanted to sneak them in your jacket pockets before you came home, so you can always have one you, but realized just showing them you would be better... Why are you crying?"

Your caretaker shrivels against the backdoor as fat tears rolls down their face. You absolute angel. Their saving grace; pointy teeth and all. How did someone like them come across a precious gem like you? How could such a monster gain your love? They trapped you in their home in the middle of nowhere, and you just went along with everything they did with no questions asked. They were scum for what they've done, and yet they could never let you go.

"Hey, hey don't cry." You swarm them in a hug, patting their head with enough intensity that it puts strain on their neck, but they couldn't care less. They sob into your shirt as you hush and gently stroke their back. This love they barred you was the guiltiest pleasure imaginable.

"I'm sorry, angel. I'm so so sorry."

"Sorry for what? I'm okay. You're the who's crying. Let's get somewhere more comfortable and I'll help you feel better."

Your caretaker weakly nods, sniffling as you tuck the flower in their pocket and help them to their feet. They lean on your shoulder as you carry them away, once again swallowed by everything that is you.

#monster reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere x y/n

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greenwitchcrafts · 2 months

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April 2024 witch guide

Full moon: April 23rd

New moon: April 8th

Solar eclipse: April 8th

Sabbats: None

April Pink Moon

Known as: Breaking Ice Moon, Budding Moon of Plants & shrubs, Budding Tree Moon, Eastermonath, Frog Moon, Green Grass Moon, Growing Moon, Hare Moon, Moon of the Red Grass appearing, Moon When Geese Lay Egss, Moon When thd Ducks Come Back, Ostarmanoth, Planters Moon, Seed Moon, Sucker Moon & Wind Moon

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Aries & Taurus

Nature spirits: Plant Faeries

Deities: Anahita, Bast, Ceres, Cernunnos, Hathor, Herne, Ishtar, Kali, Tawaret & Venus

Animals: Bear & wolf

Birds: Hawk & magpie

Trees: Bay, forsythia, hazel, lilac, pine & willow

Herbs: Basil, chives, dandelion, dill, dogwood, dragon's blood, fennel, geranium, milkweed & thistle

Flowers: Daisy & sweetpea

Scents: Bay, bergamot, patchouli & pine

Stones: Angelite, beryl, diamond, garnet, malachite, quartz, ruby, sapphire, sard, selenite & zircon

Colors: Blue, brown, crimson, gold & green

Energy: Authority, balance, beginnings, change, fertility, growth, leadership, opportunities, overcoming obstacles, personal skill development, re-birth, self-evaluation, self-reliance, spirituality, temper control & willpower

April’s full Moon often corresponded with the early springtime blooms of a certain wildflower native to eastern North America: Phlox subulata—commonly called creeping phlox or moss phlox—which also went by the name “moss pink.” Thanks to this seasonal association, this full Moon came to be called the “Pink” Moon.

Other celebrations:

• Walpurgis Night - April 30th

Also known as: May Eve

The origins of the holiday date back to pagan celebrations of fertility rites & the coming of spring. After the Norse were Christianized, the pagan celebration became combined with the legend of St. Walburga, an English-born nun who lived at Heidenheim monastery in Germany & later became the abbess there. Saint Walpurga was hailed by the Christians of Germany for battling "pest, rabies, & whooping cough as well as against witchcraft". Christians prayed to God through the intercession of Saint Walpurga in order to protect themselves from witchcraft, as Saint Walpurga was successful in converting the local populace to Christianity. Although it is likely that the date of her canonization is purely coincidental to the date of the pagan celebrations of spring, people were able to celebrate both events under church law without fear of reprisal.

Walpurgis Night is still a traditional holiday celebrated on April 30th in northern Europe & Scandinavia. In Sweden typical holiday activities include the singing of traditional spring folk songs & the lighting of bonfires. In Germany the holiday is celebrated by dressing in costumes, playing pranks on people & creating loud noises meant to keep evil at bay. Many people also hang blessed sprigs of foliage from houses & barns to ward off evil spirits, or they leave pieces of bread spread with butter & honey, called ankenschnitt, as offerings for phantom hounds.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

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crusty-chronicles · 8 months

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Airheaded S/O Headcannons #12: Uryu (Bleach)

You honestly irritate and drain him at first

That being said, he is probably one of the most capable people when it comes dealing with your bullshit.

Remember Orihime during the soul society arc?

Yeah, he's got the patience of a god

Perfectly equipped for handling your chaos, albeit begrudgingly

"Whaddya mean I can't fight that guy?" You complained.

"You dimwit, he's at least double your size with double the spiritual pressure!!!" Uryu retorted while gesturing to a particularly large arrancar.

"Booo, you're no fun. I like Ichigo better."

His pride won't allow a blow like that, so he tries to show off to prove that Ichigo is in fact not better.

When the enemy is finally defeated, he's met with you clapping and cheering like one of those soccer moms.

Admittedly, it does get him a little flustered. But it's a major ego booster, especially from you.

The first time he met you he had no idea you were completely brain dead

It was during his first showdown with Ichigo.

The hollows wouldn't stop coming, and what's worse, a Menos was starting to crossover from Heuco Mundo.

It was just too much and too overwhelming at the same time.

And then a spike of spiritual pressure came from next to him and Ichigo.

The surrounding hollows being defeated before you made your presence known.

Giving a look between the soul reaper and the Quincy before scowling.

"This isn't a dick swinging contest! Actual people could be hurt, so get your shit together and get rid of that thing!" You lectured before shooting a little ray of reishi towards another group of hollows, decimating them completely.

It felt like you were almost as strong as a Lieutenant from the Soul Society.

Which was admittedly shocking, but gave them enough time to knock the Menos back from where it came from.

"Thank you, for holding the other hallows off." Uryu figured it was the least he could do after you stalled for so long.

"Huh? Oof-!"

You just tripped.

Over nothing.

And then shot right back up.

"OH NO I LEFT THE SHOP UNATTENDED!!! TESAI'S GONNA KILL ME!!!"

You were odd. But that could've been a coincidence, right???

It was not a coincidence and now he's wondering how you manage not to get yourself killed everyday.

"Do NOT slice the box cutter towards yourself!"

And then he shows you how to do it properly so you don't stab yourself.

Will always complain about you ripping your clothes during a fight, and then proceed to stitch up all the holes.

"Wait, I can have little dandelions on that part of my sleeve?"

"Shut up, you should be glad I'm fixing it for you at all."

Makes sure he has the right thread to embroider them on 💀💀💀

You're bleeding profusely?

"Why don't you want Orihime to heal you? She's a pro at this." Uryu complains as he's cleaning up your wounds.

"Because I like you better. And you're good with stitching."

He's extremely embarrassed but appreciates the compliment.

Also, he probably has to take you to the hospital because you definitely need a blood transfusion.

You 🤝Pesche = Uryu's sleep paralysis demons

The two of you together make him want to pull his hair out.

One makes his life hell on purpose and the other (you) on accident.

But you get a pass. You're actually useful in combat.

Kisuke's adopted child™ so you're extra strong 💪💪💪

Doesn't realize he likes you until the bounts show up and he gets abducted by Yoshino.

You kept up with her surprisingly well, despite being injured by Udagawa.

Giving a relentless pursuit to get him back

But you could only push yourself so much with the gash on your side that eventually, Yoshino's doll managed to land a direct hit on you.

The next time Uryu sees you is when he wakes up in his father's hospital.

Everyone bursting in to come and see if he was okay.

Then there was you who made your way in on crutches with Kisuke supporting you.

And before he could ask if you were okay, you practically collapsed on top of him.

Giving him a bone crushing hug before finally speaking.

"I'm just so happy you're okay."

And it was the way you said it that had him smitten.

Like you really were worried about him.

Like he was actually important despite not having his powers anymore.

Yeah okay, maybe he didn't have anything to prove.

At least not to you.

Another one of the unfortunate few who tries to court you normally.

Except it's way more awkward.

This man has absolutely no idea how to approach you now that he has these feelings for you.

"I got you flowers."

"Oh... I'm allergic, but they're still pretty though 😃"

A little embarrassed but not deterred because it wasn't a 'no.'

Tries to make you food.

Key word: tries because he forgot about the fact that you and Orihime always share

Uryu, you fool! How could you be so blind?!?

☝️his actual thoughts as his attempts to court you keep failing.

But his last and final attempt finally works.

He was once again trying to show off to you while fighting a hollow.

He was doing fine up until he fell flat on his ass dodging an attack.

You'd been so quick to divert the enemy's oncoming attack before helping him up.

"Hey I got you, okay?"

And he just blurts it out.

"I'm in love with you."

And your bright smile makes him relax.

"I know... Ichigo told me."

"HE WHAT!?!?"

100% babies you.

You keep forgetting to pack your lunch?

Don't worry it's already on the counter with a little sticky note inside.

You scrapped yourself on who knows what?

You're in good hands, he's been around a hospital enough of his life to know what he's doing.

He'll even give you a kiss over the bandaid if you want to 👉👈

Speaking of hospitals 👀👀👀

Ryuken absolutely hates you

Like with a fiery passion

"Really? Them?" He gestures angrily over at you.

And it's you making silly faces at a nervous kid going in for surgery to make them laugh.

Uryu's so smitten. 😊😊😊

"Yeah. That's the one."

Does get a little insecure but not exactly jealous

He doesn't understand what you see in him.

He's not exactly the strongest or the most good looking.

The only thing he's confident in is his mind

And even then it has the tendency to fail him.

But you don't seem to see that

For whatever reason, you like him

Flaws and all, you chose him.

Will only call you sweet nicknames in private.

Among them are: love, sweetheart, baby, dear, hun, and his personal favorite - sunshine.

Prefers to fight for you than have you join in and get hurt.

Even if he's more at risk of being injured than you are

His Quincy pride just won't allow it.

NEXT UP: Gaara (Naruto)

MASTERLIST

An: A long boi because I'm currently watching bleach right now. Honesty all the men in bleach are so fine and I'm probably gonna add grimmjow for my bonus headcannons

#uryu ishida #uryu x reader #uryu ishida x reader #bleach #bleach x reader #bleach x y/n #x reader #x y/n #airhead s/o #stronk s/o

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mingyus-blackcard · 2 months

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ੈ✩‧₊ Paint an immortal love ੈ✩‧₊

Paring : Xu Minghao x Male reader

Word Count : 0.8k

Song : Strawberries and Cigarettes by Troye Sivan

Genre : Immortal au, angst to fluff

TW: Implied homophobia, death

A/n: This was requested, I got the inspiration to write this after such a long time!!! Feedback is much appreciated! Questions and requests are always open !

It was a losing game but he still chose to play.

Immortals falling in love with mortal was not forbidden, but looked down upon. It was considered to be crumbling a dried rose. A rose which once smelt of warmth, reduced to pieces of angst. Y/N and Minghao promised to stay together, yet they both knew it was promise which couldn't be kept. Those sneaky escapades of Minghao and Y/N had to be said goodbye, yet one wouldn't remember and one could never forget.

Minghao was an immortal who would just roam around the streets of the mortal world. The mortal art decepting how the they perceived the world, be it with a field of dandelions or a court full of thorns. The museums he visited displayed a pulchritudinous array of art, portraying god and mortal emotions.

It was one of those lonely nights, when the museum did not have much rush, the gale could be heard, a sign of the winters approaching.

Minghao was staring at the painting, the painting decepting two souls with intertwined hands, it was rumoured that the painter had painted it for him and his lover, homosexual relationships being a sin in the society. Minghao never understood the reason about being in love considered to be a sin.

"It's pretty, isn't it?"

Minghao looked back to see a guy staring at the picture as well, a small smile resting on his face.

"Indeed it is."

"If only the painter was a female, falling in love with him wouldn't be a crime."

The two of them stood in silence, the silence speaking way more than words could ever speak.

Minghao glanced at the guy next to him, features no less than a angel.

Brown hair which matched his caramel eyes, small lips with a settling smile, a rouge tint to his cheeks, probably due to weather.

"I wish I could relive this painting."

Minghao looked at the guy, confusion written all over his face. The guy seemed to understand that and gave a light chuckle.

"Experience the love of an artist, become someone's muse. Get my love immoratalized for this world. Let the world know what love can be."

"This painting depicts a relationship between two men, would you want that as well?"

"If love can cross borders, it can cross languages, why can't it cross genders?" The guy turned his full attention to Minghao, replying with a slight spark in his eyes, waiting for his response.

"Not all borders are meant to be crossed, exepcially when the other side has thorns."

"If no one crosses border with the fear of thorns, the path will never clear. Someone needs to cross the border and remove the thorns."

Minghao just smiled, never meeting a mortal with such solitary thoughts. He lent out his hand, a friendly gesture he hoped the guy would reciprocate.

"Minghao"

The guy gladly shook hands, flashing a bright smile," Y/N"

The hands which shook, created a bond which could only be broken by time. The two young men, ignorant of others around them, fell in love with each other deeply everyday. Be it reading the newspaper together, snuggled together in the bed, the noises of the coach in the background or their late night escapes in the pub, a beer in hand, flushed cheeks and eyes full of love.

Minghao was hesitant to start this relationship, knowing he will live on with just memories, but for Y/N, he was ready to give the happy memories and carry on with the bitter memory of losing the loved one.

Relationships are built on trust, yet Minghao could never have the courage to tell him that he was an immortal, that he would indeed keep the promise of loving him forever.

Yet as the leaves turn brown, the sky turns grey, the lover's blood lost the warmth, lost the red tint. Y/N passed away young, a death not deserved, a death placed upon him for fighting for his love, shot at a rally for letting men love men, for letting the seven colours fly, only for him fly away as white dove.

The color of Minghao's life left, the monotonous routine taking over. A whole lifetime at his disposal, yet he longs to be with angel. Years passed, yet that smile could never fade away from his mind. Minghao lived on, visiting the museum every fortnight. Staring at the painting which made his lover immortal.

The night was nothing special, the museum being empty at night, Minghal standing carelessly in front of the painting, remembering his lover when his trance was broken by an another guy, voicing his thoughts.

"It's beautiful isn't it? Only for their love to be forbidden."

Minghao snapped his neck back to see a guy, black hair, pale lips, different from his lover, yet the same glint in the eyes which he could identify in thousand other eyes, those eyes which made him smile like never before. The eyes which made him love, which made him realise the importance of a heartbeat, those eyes which stood before him

again, life giving him a chance again, a smile creeping on his face in years.

"Till death do us apart, yet the same eyes, the same I love you stands before me."

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jessamine-rose · 2 years

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˚ ༻✿ 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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sangoziethesimp · 2 months

Text

Shattered Devotion | ABYSS LUMINE X FEM! READER

Story requested by my wife / @gabyuu1

(She's currently simping over abyss lumine)

MEN AND MINORS DNI

Y/n falls for Lumine, unaware she's an abyss princess. Lumine manipulates Y/n's love, playing the vulnerable damsel to gain unwavering devotion. The truth shatters Y/n's world: love was a lie, a tool to make Y/n a puppet for the abyss's return. Now, Y/n, a weapon of love turned cold, serves a monster disguised as a lover.

Monstadt's winds, once playful companions, now whispered a chilling truth through the dying leaves: Lumine was a wolf in sheep's clothing. The warmth that had bloomed between them, the shared laughter and whispered secrets under starlit skies, now felt like a cruel mockery.

It wasn't a sudden change. It was a slow descent, a subtle shift in Lumine's golden eyes that mirrored the encroaching abyss. Cryptic pronouncements about destiny and forgotten power, brushed aside with playful nudges, began to grate on Y/n's soul. Lumine's touch, once a source of comfort, now sent shivers down her spine, a mix of desire and unease.

One starlit night, perched on the very edge of Windrise, Lumine confessed, her voice tinged with a melancholic allure. "The Abyss calls to me, Y/n," she murmured, tracing constellations with a finger that felt like ice. "It offers power, a chance to reclaim what was lost." A single tear escaped her eye, glistening like a fallen star.

Y/n's heart ached. Was this the Lumine she knew, the one who shared dandelion wine and whispered dreams? But the vulnerability in Lumine's eyes, a vulnerability Y/n ached to believe in, was too potent to ignore. "Together, we can find another way," Y/n pleaded, clinging to a sliver of hope.

Lumine's smile faltered, a flicker of something cold crossing her features. "Don't be naive, Y/n. You wouldn't understand the burden I carry." The words stung, laced with an accusation that chilled Y/n to the bone. Was her love not enough?

Days blurred into weeks, the tension thickening the air between them. Lumine's pronouncements became demands, pronouncements of a twisted destiny that gnawed at Y/n's sanity. Yet, with each passing day, Lumine's vulnerability seemed to deepen, a master manipulator tugging at Y/n's heartstrings.

The final blow came on a stormy night. Seeking solace within the familiar walls of the Knights of Favonius headquarters, Y/n stumbled upon a hushed conversation. It was Jean, her voice heavy with dread, speaking of an ancient prophecy – an abyssal princess destined to return and claim her birthright, bathed in blood. The name sent a jolt of terror through Y/n: Lumine.

Tears, hot and stinging, streamed down Y/n's face as she confronted Lumine. The playful facade shattered, replaced by a cold, predatory smile. Gone was the damsel in distress, the vulnerable woman Y/n had fallen for. In her place stood an abyssal queen, her eyes burning with a power both familiar and terrifying.

"So you've finally pieced it together, my darling pet," Lumine purred, her voice laced with cruel amusement. "But fear not. Your unwavering devotion has earned you a place by my side. Together, we will reshape Teyvat in our image."

The love Y/n had built, a foundation of trust and shared dreams, was a twisted cage all along. Despair threatened to consume her, but amidst the crushing weight of betrayal, a chilling realization dawned. Lumine never needed her love; she craved her devotion, her unwavering loyalty.

Y/n, a puppet on Lumine's strings, became a weapon, a harbinger of the abyss's return. The warmth in her heart, once Lumine's haven, now echoed with a hollow emptiness. The woman Y/n loved was gone, replaced by a monster who used affection as a leash, leading Y/n, not towards a future, but towards an abyss of her own making. Tears streamed down Y/n's face, not for Lumine's betrayal, but for the love that never truly existed, a love sacrificed on the altar of a dark god disguised as a lover.

#sangowrites #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact #abyss lumine #abyss lumine x reader #lumine x reader #lumine #genshin angst #angst

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fangirleaconmigo · 1 year

Note

for 'I can't believe it's canon', what about Jaskier/Dandelion's youthful looks? I know it's common fanon to make him at least part elf or fae or some other type of creature to explain the longevity, but i think in canon he's just like that? Babyfaced?

Hello dear! Ok, so,

Dandelion's looks and longevity/(and potential elven lineage) in the books, now with English and original Polish versions.

Alright, in order to answer this ask, I conferred with the wonderful and helpful @cherrypoison1889, who is Polish and has the books and is willing to indulge my obsessive absurdity.

(In my post about Geralt and Religion, I put out a request for any Polish fan of the books who wouldn't mind me bothering them with silly and ridiculous questions occasionally to get in touch. Cherry was kind enough to dm me.)

Basically, my meta has powered up. XD I now have a partner in crime. I am going to include our conversations about the words used in the original Polish and in the English translation to describe Dandelion.

We are just having very silly fun here, this isn't academic or anything pls my god, if you want academic or authoritative consult a doctor (phd in languages and whatnot). This is just fun, that's all.

Ok, so we know Dandelion looks young for his age.

In The Blood of Elves, which takes place AFTER the first two short story collections, Djikstra says that Dandelion looks like he is in his late twenties, even though he is in his late thirties. Here is what he says.

"...I know you're almost forty, look almost thirty, think you're just over twenty, and act as though you're barely ten."

So he looks a good ten years younger than he is and This is in Blood of Elves, which for TWN fans is around S2.

We also know he is a 'pretty boy'.

Dandelion is called pretty, by the narrative and other characters.

When Angoulême is being interrogated in The Tower of Swallows, and she is asked who Geralt is traveling with, she describes Dandelion like this....

"...a comely fellow called Dandelion, who's a troubadour, and carries a lute."

So she uses the term comely, which in English is typically usually used to describe women. I think that's the first time I've heard that word used to describe an adult man. Here's how Oxford dictionary defines it:

Comely: pleasant to look at; attractive (typically used of a woman).

So to me, this implies a pretty boy and yes the baby face.

I asked Cherry about what the Polish word is, and here is their answer:

Angouleme calls Jaskier "Przystojniak" in Polish, which is colloquial of Handsome Fellow (see also the word Przystojny, which means Handsome). This word is generally used only to describe men, but has been, in the past, also applied to women

So, there is some subtle gender-y stuff going on in that translation, but either way, he is considered good looking.

Then I asked Cherry about whether Dandelion is really often mistaken for an elf. There is a passage in the English translation that suggests that he is, but the wording in English is a bit ambiguous and slightly awkward.

In the process, Cherry and I found that there is a word in that section that changes pretty significantly in translation, suggesting again that he is very pretty.

Dandelion and longevity or elven lineage:

As far as his longevity, there is never at indication that he is part elf except that sometimes he is mistaken for an elf. The English translation implies that this is because of his style, but the original Polish implies it is his pretty face as well.

In Baptism of Fire, Geralt and Dandelion are in a forest, caught in a thunderstorm. They happen near a group of men who are waiting to meet elves and the men call to them:

"Over here, Master Elves!"

Geralt is not surprised by this mistake, as visibility is low, and they are both wrapped in grey elven mantels. Also, apparently, this is a regular occurrence for Dandelion. The book says:

"As far as the foppish Dandelion was concerned, he was regularly mistaken for an elf or a half-elf, particularly since he had begun wearing his hair shoulder-length and taken up the habit of occasionally curling it with tongs."

Ok, so, the English translation uses the phrase 'as far as...Dandelion was concerned', which could mean two different things. It could mean "regarding Dandelion," or "according to Dandelion." So I asked Cherry what it says in Polish.

fangirleaconmigo

So that phrase in english could basically say that dandelion WAS regularly mistaken for an elf

OR OR OR

it could mean that he CLAIMS he is regularly mistaken for an elf

cherrypoison1889

So, in Polish it is that Dandelion is often mistaken for an elf or half-elf.

fangirleaconmigo

ok, so it isn't that he claims it, but that he IS mistaken for an elf.

ok perfect. thank you.

cherrypoison1889

As in, it's other's opinion that he looks like an elf

Then, Cherry asked me about the word foppish, and we realized that the original word in Polish has quite different connotations!

Foppish, in English, generally refers to a man who is "concerned with one's clothes and appearance in an affected and excessive way." (Oxford dictionary)

So, an English speaker sees this word as a commentary on Dandelion's vanity and clothing. But actually the Polish word is different. Here is what Cherry said:

cherrypoison1889

In Polish it's "Gładysz", which means someone with a smooth, unblemished visage (see also the word Gładki, which means smooth)

fangirleaconmigo

the word they translated to foppish?

cherrypoison1889

Yep, that's the word. So, 1 count for Dandy being called a pretty pretty boy <3

fangirleaconmigo

haha that's awesome thank you

cherrypoison1889

So in english, you could say he's described slightly more pejoratively?

fangirleaconmigo

foppish it's less about his attractiveness and more about his own vanity or obsession with appearance.

just stylish and vain basically

you could see that negatively, as interest in appearance is often looked down upon in men, (eta: unfairly of course, in macho cultures, not by me obviously) but not everyone does see it as negative. but yes, it has more potential for negative implications

cherrypoison1889

Just looked it up in a dictionary, apparently Gładysz also means someone who is nice, i.e. kind

So in Polish it's just he's a sweet pretty boy uwu

fangirleaconmigo

ah interesting! so the original word has better implications all around

that's so cute

cherrypoison1889

Baby boy baby

So, there is no conclusive evidence for Dandelion being part elven, other than just the fact that he is mistaken for one. He is a pretty pretty boy who looks young for his age.

But since he looks like an elf, there's a bit of fertile ground to headcanon it. It's not canon but it's a reasonable use or extrapolation of canon! Would he even know if he were like a quarter elf? Who knows? We don't even know where Lettenhove is. Go crazy!

So, TWN accidentally not aging him turned out to be not too 'off canon'. And it is no surprise that he is often head-canoned as part elf.

Actually I think Hexer actually makes him part elf as well. Hell, I make him part elf in most of my fics.

So there's no canon evidence? But it's not an outrageous thing to headcanon or anything.

THANK YOU CHERRY FOR DOING THIS WITH ME. IT'S SO FUN BEING A NERD WITH YOU ABOUT TRANSLATIONS.

#asks #the witcher

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an3mos-mp · 10 months

Text

Summary: Reader is a tailor and gets a frisky request that Venti models for them.

Starring: Venti, reader

Genre: smut, handjobs, dirty talk, light nipple play

Warnings: Venti and reader are somewhat under the influence of alcohol

Author’s note: This was NOT proofread and it's been sitting in my ‘to edit’ list for long enough so here you go. If you know me, no you don’t. (I’m serious 🧍‍♀️) likes, reblogs, comments and new followers will always be appreciated. This is a side blog so I don't post often here AT ALL.

Word count: 1.4k (even i don’t understand how or why i wrote that many words of smut)

You were a well known tailor in Mondstat and it wasn’t surprising that you got the favour of a well known bard that frequented Diluc’s tavern, Venti.

For years, you and him had been the best of friends and often bonded through him modelling some of your new ideas and designs so you could see if they were as good in person as they were in drawing

He was an excellent model and very professional. On top of that, he had a sense of artistic expression you’d expect from a bard and he was able to execute that skill when it came to commenting on your work and helping you fix design issues.

You often went to the same tavern every time to celebrate successful designs and making customers happy, to Diluc’s dismay, to drink the night away but you did have a single problem… though could you really call it a problem?

Venti got very flirtatious when drunk and it wasn’t with just anyone he came across when drunk, it was only with you.

Odd? Yes. Did you mind? No. Especially after developing a small (not small) crush on him.

It was one of those nights where you’d celebrate a successful design with Venti over bottle upon bottles of dandelion wine and Venti was flirting with you, as usual, but got interrupted when a regular customer spotted you in the bar with an anxious expression before stating they needed a design by the next morning.

You then found yourself with a drunk Venti in your shop, running around to grab materials for the design.

“You didn’t look at the design, did you?” Venti voiced from where he was seated behind you on your desk, legs crossed and design clutched in his nimble fingers. With a silent curse, you rushed to where he sat while nursing an assortment of random materials; you remembered grabbing polyester during your panicked state of searching for materials but that polyester was deemed useless by the design in Venti’s hands.

From over his shoulder, the delicate design of nightwear glared at you with its gorgeous frills and obscene disposure. Oh god, would that be able to cover anything important?

“That’s quite…” You trailed off, blood rushing to the surface of your skin.

“Scandalous?” Venti breathed. Opting to steal a glance at him to see his reaction, you shifted your eyes to his teal ones that were already on you as they glowed under the dim light of your workshop. His attention to you encouraged your heart to beat faster than the design made it beat.

You could only nod and when you turned to him his teal eyes were already focused on you, his cheeks reddened by what you could only hope was the dandelion wine.

“Do you… need a model for this design?” His voice was soft and hesitant like he was afraid they would shatter the tension that was created between you, the same tension that increased in correspondence with the decreasing distance between your lips,

“I do,” your voice was quiet, “I have never made anything like this before so naturally, I need guidance from a model.”

“Then should I… strip?” Venti said, his eyes on your lips and the design now crushed slightly in his tightened hold. Your thoughts descended with any sense of decency you normally managed to maintain around Venti because of his word choice. Why did he use ‘strip’ like he’ll need to be naked for you to make this piece? He had a body suit he would wear whenever he’d model for you and this time didn’t need to be any different. It wasn’t rational to believe otherwise because it was just a poor word choice. That poor word choice, however, had wrapped itself around your mind just like Venti’s legs which were now wrapped around your waist. The design was now discarded on your desk and his hands opted for clutching the material of your shirt.

Your hands were over his in an instant as you attempted to loosen his grip on you. “I think I should reject the design while I still can.” Venti protested by pulling you closer with his legs around your waste, you sighed. The dandelion wine was still in effect.

“Complete the design.” He demanded and despite your previous observation, his speech was clear of any mistakes unlike other nights you’d spend drunk together.

“Let’s go get some rest, we’re drunk.” Your words were breathless and half hearted just like your attempt to step away from Venti. He grabbed a hold of your wrist.

“But I want to model for you.” He stated, the hand around your wrist used your hand as an anchor to bring your bodies together. Your heart fluttered at this.

“Venti you’re wasted,”

His hold on your wrist tightened and your eyes were locked together like magnets. “Please.”

The tips of his fingers traced the skin from the wrist of your hand past your elbow to your exposed shoulder as his lips remained hair’s width away from yours, building your anticipation.

His hand grabbed a fistful of your shirt and pulled you toward him before your lips locked together.

His cold fingers latched themselves around your wrist for the second time that night before he guided your hand to the warm skin underneath his shirt; this gave you enough incentive to slowly trail your hand up his abdomen;

“Touch me.” His lips caressed your own with every word before he locked them together, it was inevitable for you were opposing forces bound to comverge. His lips burned against yours with an ardent flame that fed on the desperation you both emitted into the kiss. Venti’s back arched into you when the tips of your fingers skimmed his left nipple with a feather-like touch. He sighed against your lips as you circled his nipple with the aim to engrave the feeling of his skin on your fingers, the pathetic broken words that fell from Venti’s lips, which had now parted from yours, when you tugged on his nipple left you lightheaded and itching for more of his reactions.

After giving half-hearted and rushed attention to his other nipple. Venti protested but he dropped it when your hand descended from his chest down his abdomen to the waistline of his pants.

As you took your time handling buttons of his pants, Venti took your preoccupation as an opportunity to leave open mouthed kisses along the edge of your jawline and down to your neck; His lips were the paintbrush to the canvas of your skin and like a skilled artist he relished the purples and reds scattered on your skin and while they were not in any particular pattern, they conveyed an important message to him and anyone (archon’s forbid) who would dare cast their eyes on you. You were his.

While lost in his mastery of staining the skin of your neck with love bites, Venti snapped his hips into the palm of your hand with a sound of surprise. You had managed to work your hand into his pants, your fingers now wrapped firmly around his dick. Your other hand had its own firm grip on his thigh to discourage Venti from grinding against your hand as he did when he felt your warmth against his erection. “Don’t move.”

Venti chuckled, his head still buried in your neck. “Anyone would move if someone had their hand on their dick.” His words danced between the skin of your neck and soft lips grazed your neck with every syllable; it was enough to make you shiver but you didn’t forget the task at hand.

Soon enough you had Venti muffling his moans in the crook of your neck as you worked your hand on his dick; your wrist ached with how long you had been at it but the rising pitch in Venti’s pleas spurred you on. His fingers were curled into the material of your shirt as if you were his only anchor as he drowned in the vast ocean of pleasure you brought him with just your hand.

“I’m… so close.” He gasped, vision blurred by tears.

You ran your thumb over his tip causing him to whimper pathetically into your neck, his grip on your shirt tightening as your pace increased.

His hips began to move involuntarily despite your grip on his thigh and Venti was in hysterics.

“Please, please, please,” He moaned repeatedly like it was a prayer, like begging for release was the only thing he could remember to do because his orgasm and your hand were the centre of his thoughts and those prayers were answered through a mind numbing orgasm.

It was the first of many that night.

#genshin impact #genshin x you #genshin impact smut #i’m not okay #venti x reader #genshin impact venti #genshin venti #venti the bard #genshin x reader #genshin smut #venti smut #venti x you #why did i make this

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shhh-secret-time · 3 months

Note

The soulmate AU fic’s are so cute 🥹🥹 I’m so incredibly in love with your writing! The Stan fic made me giggle so much 💙💙 HE IS PERFECT

I’d love to request one for Kenny if you’re not totally sick of the soulmate stuff 😂🩷

Anon. I need you to listen to me carefully. I will never, ever, be tired of soulmate stuff.

In fact, that's it. You're getting the softest Kenny fic of your life! Maybe

Warning: Body Horror, Blood, Injury, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Anxiety, a bit of depression. Violence.

Pairing: Kenny x GN!Reader

One of your favorite lessons growing up was the time your class learned about plants. You and your fellow classmates all sat at your desk with a little pot of soil to call your own. It didn't mean much to you at first, but as the class went on and the teacher her lesson it began to sink in.

This was life.

You remember going starry eyed as she pressed the smallest little seed into the dirt and poured a little water onto it. This woman had introduced you to something so simple yet so beautiful. How a little sunlight and a little bit of water could grow into something so gorgeous. So, you dedicated the next few months to that little seed. Staying awake late at night whispering secrets to it like an old friend, making sure it was nice and watered.

Needless to say, you cried when your little plant didn't sprout as quickly as everyone else's. You didn't understand what you were doing wrong. Your teacher tried to reassure you that you were doing fine.

Your name falls from her lips as she helps you wipe the tears from your eyes. "You're not doing anything wrong. Plants can be complicated. Some take a little longer than others but there's nothing wrong with them or with what you're doing!"

At the time she was talking about the plant, but as you got older the words stuck with you. And maybe she really was just talking about the little seed, but as you got older it got harder to not apply it to people.

You watched as people took to their own colors, growing and being shaped by the world around you. Some grew thorns, others grew branches. Most planted their roots, souls intertwined with the small town of South Park.

So why did it feel like you were the only one still in the ground, barely sprouting?

You're not doing anything wrong.

God, you wish you could believe her.

But it was hard when you were so overwhelmed with comparing yourself to the others. You weren't athletic like Stan or Red. You weren't top of your class like Kyle or Wendy. You didn't have the charm of Jimmy or Nichole. No, you were just you. What was special about you?

Kenny McCormick could. The blond could write a book on all the things that made you special. Pages filled with how kind you were, how you lit up every room you walked in even if you didn't realize it. If he was a smarter man, he'd probably find a way to compare you to some sunrise. Something beautiful!

Instead, all he can come up with is a dandelion. You may not be the most exotic plant in a flowerbed, but you were beautiful. Like dandelions you were everywhere to him. Under the gentle rays of the sun, pushing through the cracks of the sidewalk; brightening up his day. He saw you on the side of the road waving to him with a gentle sway, yellow petals beckoning him over. He saw the way you stretched up and up past the others eventually changing to those puffy little white balls.

But he's not a smart man, and on top of that he had a reputation. Kenny loved people, he loved that people loved. He loved his three asshole friends; he loved them more than they deserved. He loved his sister, the best thing to ever come from his parents, and that included him. Sometimes that love came out a little too much, he just had so much of it to give. Because like you, Kenny never really felt like he was good enough.

In a world of soulmates, love was hard. If Kenny caught ink on skin that seemed to change, or paragraphs of words on people's arms, he knew that his love would just be temporary for them. He often wondered if you had anything like that. Maybe a tattoo somewhere on your body that would indicate who your soul was bound to. The thought would keep him up at night because no matter how many times he checked; Kenny never saw ink. Never saw pictures or words with someone's thoughts. Stan and Kyle always were the lucky ones.

Lucky people don't lie in a dirty alley with their sides split open. Lucky people don't have to clench their sides to try to stop their blood from slipping out of them.

How could he be so careless? He'd done this song and dance for years now, ever since he was old enough to throw a fist and really make it hurt. Some nights it felt like this was the only thing he was good at, taking a hit and getting back up. Kenny McCormick was the world's punching bag.

He closes his eyes for a moment, and God it felt so good. To just let his eyes rest for a moment, he's been running on Monday's sleep, and it was fucking Wednesday. A small part of him thought about just letting sleep take him, how would it be different than his room?

Oh, but Karen.

And those guys trying to mug that poor woman, yeah, they were still a thing.

Kenn- no Mysterion pulls himself to his feet, the long purple cape hides his shaky legs. Yeah, Kenny might be the world's punching bag, but Mysterion fucking hits back. The dark purple gloves, now stained with a dark red, press into the wound trying to staunch the flow. His vision was getting dizzy, but he wasn't seeing black yet. He still had time before he'd wake up in bed again. Just enough time to break a few bones.

Meanwhile across town you sat in the living room of your small apartment, whatever YouTube video playing in the background. A nice little book rests in your hand, it was a quiet night for you. Most of them were as your apartment was just you and your little cat, the chunky little lady rest by your feet happily purring, just content to be around you. Well, you, your cat, and your plants. Right beside you were pots filled with various plants you'd grown over the years. From seasonal flowers to three different shaped bonsai trees, to various colored succulents, and finally your favorite Orchid. The beautiful purple flower had bloomed recently, and it was your pride and joy.

Everything was perfect, no stress about having to be better than you are. No deadlines or classes that made you feel dumb. No obligation to socialize and try to entertain people you didn't exactly call friend. That is until the sharp pain in your side made you scream out. Your cat jumping away from you and cowering on the other side of the couch, she looks terrified.

Right along your side, just below your rib, felt like it was being ripped apart. Like someone was taking their nails and pulling your skin apart. You lift your shirt and stare down in horror, as bright red spider lilies sprout from your skin. Thick green stalks wrap around each other and soon the crimson petals sprout out, it would be gorgeous if it wasn't in your skin. You feel like you're about to pass out, the sudden act was enough to make your body start shaking.

"W-What the- what the hell?!" You want to scream, want to cry out but all that comes out is a hushed whisper.

Luckily the pain stopped as soon as the flower finished blooming, the pain dulled down to a low buzzing around your skin. Your hands were shaking as your fingertips traced the flowers, unable to comprehend what was really happening. You blink, and then you blink again and again. They're still there and the velvet petals under your fingers were real.

Impulsively you moved the flowers apart until you found the base of the stem, there you saw how your skin meld together perfectly with the plant. It was like they were always a part of it. With a deep breath you grab the plant by the stem and pull. The pain it shoots through your body is unlike anything you've ever felt before, but it offers no resistance as it comes out of your body.

You squeeze your eyes expecting blood or at least a wound, but you don't feel your skin rip open. Instead, it feels like something has slipped from your skin, like pulling string through a closed fist. Through heavy breathing you open your eyes, and you felt your heart start to settle, the beautiful flowers were now tightly clenched in your fist roots and all. On closer inspection they had little drops of water on the petals as if they had just been watered. It was only then you realized you had been crying.

You couldn't sleep for the rest of the night, tossing and turning as your hand kept coming up to your sides. The area was numb, it didn't hurt but you couldn't get the image out of your head. It made your skin crawl and the shiver down your spine felt sharp, sharp enough to make your back arch. As the morning sun greeted you letting you know it was time to get up and start the day, the first thing to greet you were the spider lilies sitting next to you. You don't know why you didn't just throw them away, get rid of them and never think about it again, but they really did look so beautiful.

Now they were sitting on your nightstand next to the window, dancing back and forth as the little draft that entered your apartment led them in a waltz. As you pull back the blankets and your feet hit the cold floor of your apartment, your fists clench around the blankets as you stare down in horror.

Your knuckles were covered in poppies, little sprouts pushing in between the dips of your fingers. On your right hand they were much larger blooms and more prominent on the knuckle itself. You hiss at the way it parts your skin, much less clean than the spider lilies were. The poppies wiggle a bit making room as another one pushes up and breaks your skin. This time there is a little blood, not more than a paper cut would give you but still it was alarming.

Rushing to your bathroom you run your hand under the water, the fast-running water slamming down on the little red petals. Another red flower. Another flower meaning pain or death. You're much more careful this time, gently plucking the poppies up from your skin and placing them to the side on the wet counter. They come up just like flowers last night, with ease and when you inspect your knuckles there's nothing as if it was never there.

"Guess I'll get a pot for you guys..." You mutter to the flowers, rubbing your hand over your knuckles.

There was a part of you that thought about emailing your professor as to why you wouldn't be coming to class, but what would you even say?

Good morning Professor,

I won't be able to attend class today, I am not feeling well, and I was wondering if I could get the notes for today's class from you. I sincerely apologize and hope that I will recover soon.

Good morning Professor,

I won't be attending class today as I had a family emergency come up! I hope you understand, and I will be in class when everything settles down.

Hey Professor,

I've got fucking flowers growing out of my fucking skin! You know anything about that?!

You let out a loud groan and lean forward on your desk, pushing your laptop to the side. Your sweet little roommate jumps up and meows at you in response, she nudges her head against yours and puts her paw on your cheek. A small attempt to make you feel better, she's trying. When you don't move, she meows again only louder this time, her head smacking into yours.

"Ow! Okay! I know I can't just sit here all day." She looks at you when you lean up and snap back.

She sits all prim and proper as you get up from your seat, she watches as you pace around the room and gather everything you need for the day. When she meows again you stop and look back at her, conversations with your cat weren't uncommon some days it felt like she was the only one you could really talk to. It was sad but it was better than spending nights alone talking to your plants.

"Look, I've got to go. I'm paying for the stupid classes I might as well just go. I just have to hope that whatever happened last night, doesn't happen again!" You grab your coat and throw it over your arm, giving her one last look. "Maybe I can talk to someone there? Maybe someone knows what this is, until then you're in charge of the house! No eating the plants while I'm gone!"

When she doesn't meow back at you, you narrow your eyes at her in suspicion. "I'm serious!" She jumps off your desk and walks over to the couch where she rolls on her back. Not a care in the world.

Curse that cat and her adorable behavior. You've got no choice but to trust that she'll behave. On your way out you grab your keys and make your way down the steps of your little home. Days where it was nice and sunny out made you happy you live so close to your college campus, other days it was a drag to get out of bed.

The rest of the day went by quietly, just how you like it. You couldn't help but fidget in your seat out of fear of spontaneous flower growth. What if a really large plant came out of your back while you were sitting in front of someone? If it was like the spider lilies last night, you'd most definitely scream out in pain and that would be embarrassing. Once class let out you were the first one out of your seat, practically bolting to the door.

This was getting to be too much, you had to find someone to talk to about this. The anxiety of when it would happen again was overwhelming. As you pass the little library you stop and check the inside, maybe you didn't have to talk to anyone about this. Maybe it would be in a book or at the very least you could try googling it.

As you walk into the quiet little domain you spot a few other students standing around talking to one another. Some sitting by the common tables, others tapping away on the public computers. Just as you're about to make a beeline for one of the computers tucked away in the corner, a soft voice stops you almost making you leap out of your skin.

"Hey, are you okay? Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" The voice was so gentle and soft, you turned to see Heidi Turner smiling at you.

Heidi Turner was one of the sweetest people in the school, she went through leaps and bounds to be a better person after high school. Most days she keeps herself either in the library offering to tutor other students, or volunteering around town in various ways. She was always kind to you, and you always wanted to call her a friend but something stopped you. Even though she was a sweet girl, that fear of bothering her was still there.

"Oh um...it's okay! Really, I was just uh...going to use one of the computers. Is that okay? Am I allowed?" God, you want to find a hole to crawl into and just die.

"Of course you can! I was actually coming over to see if I could help you find something, but it looks like you've got it all figured out!" She beams up at you with a little giggle.

You think for a moment, if you had to tell anyone about the situation you were in Heidi was a good person to tell. She wouldn't go around telling other people and it wasn't like you had anyone else to really confide in. So, you take a deep breath and go to stop her from walking away. "Ac-Actually Heidi, um could you help me with something? Real quick."

Heidi stops and turns back to you; she cocks her head when she sees the nervous look in your eyes. Now she looks worried, not scared you think but concerned. She walks closer to you and gestures for you to follow her towards the computer, when the two of you are far enough away from the other students she whispers.

"I had a feeling you were looking for a friend, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

A friend? She thought you guys were friends? That alone was enough to make you relax a little and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You rub your arms a little and look behind you before responding.

"I'm really freaked out Heidi and I don't know how to talk about it."

"Hey, it's okay. Take it slow, I'm right here. Is someone hurting you?"

Your eyes widen at that, and you quickly shake your head at her. "What? O-Oh no no! It's not someone it's- well it's something?" When she looks at you confused, you groan and shake your head. "I mean something happened last night and it's really freaking me out!"

You tell her the events that transpired last night, avoiding the gruesome details as to not freak her out. You expect her to call you crazy or to laugh in your face, but she doesn't.

No, instead she stands there and nods along with you. Even offering her hand to you to take when you start to tear up, the fear of it happening again came crashing down mid-story. She offers you a gentle smile, rubbing your back as you try to calm down.

"It sounds like a soulmate thing." You rub your eyes at her as she speaks, trying to get the tears spilling from your eyes out.

"A... soulmate thing? But why now, and why this?"

"It takes some people a little longer before their soulmate signs trigger. I run a support group for people who run into theirs a little late, or for people who don't have any at all." Heidi says it as if it's the most normal thing in the world to her.

You stare at her in awe for a little while, clinging on to every word with such desperation. She was like an angel, a guardian angel telling you there was nothing to worry about and that this was normal.

"As for why your trigger is this...I don't know. Triggers manifest differently for each person, there's a lot of studies on soulmates. I'm sure someone at the school is much smarter than I could tell you." She pauses for a moment and her eyes light up with excitement. "But hey! This means you've got a soulmate, I'm just sorry it's so painful for you!"

On the other side of the library Kenny was lying on one of the little bean bags chairs the school threw in for comfort. Tucked away in some corner, his plan was to take a little nap in. Somewhere where he knew his friends wouldn't come looking for him, well Kyle might but he'd never thought to find Kenny here. But when you walked in with that look of panic on your face he sat right up, like he had just gotten a full eight hours of sleep.

Why did you look so terrified? What was going on? Did you need someone? You were looking around the library like you were being followed.

These thoughts began pounding at the front of his mind and just as he was about to stand up and walk over to you, Heidi beat him to it. He couldn't make out everything you were saying, but from the way you whispered to the smaller brunette it sounded serious. His lavender eyes follow you into the other corner of the library, the one right across from him.

He should look away; he should mind his own business and try to shut out your conversation. But he can't help it, he knows it's rude, but he can't get the image of your scared face out of his head. So, he closes his eyes and tries to hone in on your conversation with Heidi. It takes everything in his power not to get lost in the way you speak; your voice was so soothing. Kenny imagined it was what honey melting in tea would sound like if it had a voice.

That's when the topic of soulmates came up. He jolts up again and his eyes widen over at you as you describe the flowers sprouting from your skin. The hands resting in his orange patchy parka shuffle over to the wound on his side, or at least where it was. Like every time he died, he'd wake up with his body fully healed with no scars or signs of his life being taken from him.

However, if he didn't die his body would keep the scratches and little wounds on his body. Earlier this morning he got a little careless and split his knuckles, maybe he was putting into many hours as Mysterion here of late but if those stalkers didn't want to be punched, they shouldn't be stalking people. He nearly leaps from the bean bag when you talk about poppies growing from your knuckles this morning, telling Heidi the exact location where he had split his.

His heart was racing, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. There was no way he was that lucky, that he was that deserving that someone like you would be his soulmate. Just before he can stand up the universe reminds him just how unlucky he really is.

"Kenny! There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you dude!" Any other time he would have been happy to hear Stan's voice, happy to see the others following right behind him.

"This is so sad you guys.... Kenny is sleeping in the library now. Is your cardboard bed that uncomfortable?" Any other time Kenny would have shut Eric down with a comeback of his own, but all he could muster was a glare. "Whoa what crawled up your vagina this morning?"

"God damn it Cartman quit it and stop waving that fishing pole around! You've got fucking hooks on it!" Any other time Kenny would have ignored Kyle's yelling, the ginger looked for any excuse to yell at Eric.

"Guys! Look I'm really not in the mood to-" But before Kenny could finish, Eric swung around to face the man yelling at him.

The metal hook at the end of Eric's fishing rod that he was carrying around for god knows why, slammed into the side of Kenny's face. The sharp hook caught the side of his cheek and pierced through the flesh. Instead of screaming out in pain he bit his lower lip and muffled it, once you've been stabbed in a dark alley trying to fight off a group of people it just becomes second nature.

"Dude!"

"Oh, shit Kenny!"

"Sick! You're getting blood everywhere!"

Kenny didn't have time for this, not when you were-

Oh god you.

His eyes dart over to where you were standing with Heidi, silently praying to whatever poor god that would listen to him that you were alright. He watches as you cup the side of your face, hesitating for a moment before your fingers met the cluster of clovers growing on the side of your face.

It doesn't hurt this time. Not like the last few times, in fact it feels gentle. Fingers that aren't yours caressing the side of your face, a whisper of something more, that clumsy first kiss, all of it wrapped up in one little moment. The three leaf clovers bloom across your cheek stopping just at the edge of your lips where finally a single six leaf clover sprouts.

He doesn't wait another moment; with his gloved hands he takes the fishing line that connects the hook in his face and his friends fishing pole and snaps it. His friends watch in horror and awe how he breaks it like a dried twig, like it was nothing to him. Kenny's on his feet before they can stop him again, moving across the library floor with purpose. The pain in his face is nothing compared to what he'll feel if he lets you slip away from him again. His reputation be damned, his pain be damned, all of it damned!

The library went quiet, and any hushed whispers were stopped when Kenny made his way over to you. He didn't even seem to care that he was leaving quite the blood trail behind him, and if anyone in the library cared they quickly changed their minds from the look on his face alone. The sound of his footsteps behind you made you turn to face him, but you don't have much time as he takes your wrist and drags you away from the many eyes and ears of others.

The school grounds are quiet right now, most people either have already gone home or are in class. Kenny doesn't slow down when walking and you don't stop him from dragging you across campus. He takes you further off school grounds, back near the many hills of South Park where the grass is peeking out from under the snow. The first signs of spring being crushed under your heels as you walk. Turning to face you, he doesn't get a word out before you're already looking up at him ready to talk.

"I'm sorry." He almost doesn't pick up what you say, the way you whisper it so softly. The clovers on your face can't make it easy but he can't help but admire how you make them look so ethereal; a painting come to life. Timeless and within reach.

"Why are you sorry?" Kenny struggles to talk as blood pours from his mouth and down his chin.

You don't know why you chuckle or why you smile at him, you should be terrified. Horrified for him that he was standing there talking to you with a fishhook in his mouth like it was the most normal thing in the world. Yet, with him it did feel normal. Unlike the other times you've interacted with the blond. This time it felt right.

If this was the work of him being your soulmate at play, you didn't really care. For the first time in your life things felt peaceful, you didn't feel the pressure of others. Because there were no others, just Kenny and you on a rolling hill. Just two dandelions growing next to each other and basking in the setting sun.

"That you're stuck with...me?" Your voice breaks through the little fantasy in your head and reality comes shattering back around you.

Kenny shakes his head and grins down at you, the gap between his front teeth that he hates now, bare to your eyes. Suddenly he doesn't feel so insecure about it. "I was just about to say that to you. You're the one who's got a plant growing out of your face."

"They were spider lilies and poppies yesterday." When you laugh Kenny has to resist the urge to grab you and pull you in for a kiss.

"If I get to hear you laugh like that always, never apologize to me again." You go to laugh again and look away from him, but he takes the sides of our face and turns you to back towards him. He's so gentle with you, shaky hands being careful not to crush the clovers on your face.

'Anyone else would have.' You think.

"I'm serious. Never apologize to me for being you again. You have no idea how thrilled I am that it's you. That I finally get to have someone to call mine and it's you." Those purple eyes bare down into yours like rain in a thunderstorm. You can even feel the water rolling down your cheeks and he's brushing them away with his thumbs. Whispering soft hushes, telling you not to cry.

"Kenny..."

"Shh, it's alright. I'm only saying it because I get it. I know where you're at but... maybe...maybe this is the universe telling us it's time to love ourselves. I'm not saying we've got to figure this out now I know I've got a bit of reputation of-"

You cut him off, for the second time today Kenny's been cut off, but he doesn't care when your lips are pressed so gently against his. The taste of copper doesn't even seem to bother you either. His eyes flutter shut, and his hands drop from your face to your waist where he pulls you in like he's always wanted to.

"I don't... think you're as bad as you think you are." You whisper against his lips and Kenny feels like he's going to melt.

"I don't think you're as bad as you think you are." He throws your words back at you with a playful purr behind his tone. "Baby I could tell the world just how perfect you are."

You scoff at that and roll your eyes, but the shy smile that plays on your lips tells Kenny exactly what he wants to hear. He reaches up to wipe the blood of your face, but you stop him and take his hand pressing a kiss into the palm of his gloves. You run his fingers through the clovers and take a deep breath, taking in everything around you.

"One step at a time Ken. For now, let’s worry about getting that hook out of your face."

"Huh? Oh yeah, I kinda forgot about it."

"How?"

"Was too busy getting lost in your eyes~"

You snort and push his hand away from your face, but it doesn't go far. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and pull him towards the school. Kenny follows you down the hill with all the love in his eyes he can muster.

Kenny McCormick had so much love in his heart to give, and now it was all yours. Maybe in the days to pass you’ll fill your apartment with the various plants and each little bud and flower would remind you of just that. That you weren't alone, you were surrounded by his love. That you were enough. That too him, you were words he couldn't put together and express. Other than...

I love you.

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judasgot-it · 1 year

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This might be a little weird but can I request smell headcanons for the hunting dogs and port mafia

please this is RIGHT up my alley. Please send more stuff like this cause they're just so much fun lol.

Smell Headcanons (Hunting dogs & Port mafia)

Hunting Dogs

Fukuchi - this guy is totally a hoarder, which isn't a bad thing per se but having grown up in a hoarders den I feel like he has that old dust smell clinging onto him and his clothes. He probably also uses really fancy soap he gets while traveling abroad so it's his saving grace

Tecchou - Body odor. Not the bad kind but since he works out 24/7 he probably just smells like sweaty man. Not stinky though. Maybe you'll catch him in the morning and catch a whiff of him smelling like a clean shower, like steamy and moist. The dude definitely showers with a plain bar of soap so you aren't gonna smell something amazing from his skin, he'll just smell clean.

Teruko - She probably uses the most pungent bath & body works and Victoria's secret combination known to man. Applies it often too, probably with the most sugary scents. They only last for a little bit but if you stand close to her you'll smell that and probably the tangy scent of blood that never washes out of her clothes.

Jouno - this guy is probably the only one who really puts extreme effort into his smell. Dude uses sensitive soaps that have a gentle smell, and because he knows he'll get sweaty he uses women's deodorant that won't irritate his skin or his nose. Probably uses a fancy men's cologne that costs 200 dollars that smells both musky and fruity since "its artistic, you wouldn't understand"

Tachihara - He fr smells like clean laundry and cucumber. His hair would definitely smell nice, I imagine Jouno would put him onto having some god-tier hair care routine. I just couldn't imagine him having dirty laundry, like yea he's 19 but he seems like the type to stay really clean. He might also smell like hot chips though cause he looks like he would get addicted to something like that.

Port Mafia

Mori - You know how I said Tecchou smells like a sweaty man? Mori smells like a sweaty man in a bad way. Like, as if he hasn't showered in a day or two and tried to cover it with expensive cologne. I feel like he sleeps in his office due to paranoia and sleeps in his clothes, so the odor just sticks to him.

Elise - She shouldn't have a scent but I feel like she would smell very strongly of plastic. Like, maybe there would be spit and sweets mixed in there but she would just have that plastic smell that only cheap lego knockoffs have.

Gin - She would smell pretty neutral. She probably uses men's soap, so I like to think that she smells like wood and is just fresh. She just doesn't like women's products so she smells kind of basic, although she might use really nice lotion for soft skin.

Aktugawa - I feel like he smells the same as Gin - although he probably uses some obscure brand of perfume that's both sugary and also smells like cigarettes/burnt wood. His coat definitely smells like ash though, he definitely should consider deep cleaning it.

Kajii - Citrus. Strong citrus. Like, dude smells like cleaning spray citrus it's crazy strong, I don't even know what product he would use for that. Also like the back of a heated-up gaming PC. He probably uses that one orange soap that engineers use that's rough as shit but gets out literally anything. So his skin is probably tough despite being a twink.

Higuchi - I like to think she smells like dandelions. It's a nice scent that you can't really complain about. Probably also smells like coffee if she had it to drink for that morning. She just doesn't have anything really bad sticking on her, although she probably suffers from really bad coffee breath often so she also has strong mint breath. Weird combo.

Kyoyo - She smells GOOD. Everything she owns smells really good, probably has her own special lotions for every day of the week. Is a HUGE skin care girly and will not use a product that doesn't smell good. I feel like she keeps hand sanitizer spray on her sometimes in case someone gross touches her but that's just me.

Hirotsu - smells for sure like a grandma and like cigarettes. He has that GOOD old book smell. All of his clothes are well taken care of but I imagine they're dry cleaned at some oldish place that gives him that paper smell. His hair gel probably smells like wood. I just really like him forgive me I've sinned.

Chuuya - definitely smells like expensive cologne although I feel like he has that leather Gucci smell sticking on him. His hat probably stinks a little bit so he keeps spraying perfume on it but he can't get the smell of sweat and ash out of it. He washes his hair everyday because of that but it's just the hat having a mind of its own.

Q - I feel like they smell like kids' shampoo. Probably mango. Not much to say although they probably also smell a little unless someone forces them to change out of their clothes, cause I have a feeling this kid won't change unless forced too. Like, look at em.

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #tecchou x reader #chuuya x reader #jouno x reader #aktugawa x reader #bsd headcannons

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googledetective · 8 months

Text

the theories that have been presented on this cast + one of my own :)

I do want to mention that I strongly believe this is a prequel due to a conversation I had with a bunch of people on discord earlier. (Everyone was 16+, dw.)

I haven’t seen anything about the first two at all so far, so I’ll be skipping over them and onto the third guy (oh my fucking lord).

(Also this post from @nesisamess helped a lot)

Staring onto the third dude,

(both posts are made by @zitherwaifuus :)

It seems that here this guy has some sort of relationship to XF-Future Tech, which if you’ve seen Min’s side story, you’d know is the company that came into her life and groomed her to be the Ultimate Student. She received special tutoring for them and worked her ass off for that title her entire life because of that. Next, this guy shares the same tie pin she does, and it’s also very notable that she dresses up with the same button down and tie in her MV. Not only do I think she is linked to the company now, but she might be working there before she was in the game. Who knows, though.

Next, I have not seen anything on the fourth girl besides a bunch of people on discord theorizing what the dandelion in her hair could mean. Unfortunately dandelions have different meanings from different cultures all over the world, so until it’s specified about where she’s from, I don’t think there’s many assumptions we can make yet.

Number Five, the purple guy.

Everyone seems to think so far that this is Elliot Cuevas, Charles Cuevas’s deceased brother. Now let me tell you that although I can’t see it based off design, the way he looks (playful and kinda weird but happy) and the way he was described by the creator in the latest qna (a popular joyous dude), can definitely make me see this being real. The only thing that is super far fetched about this is that we know he died a long time ago, and so if this is a prequel, it would have to be at least 15 years before drdt even starts.

Here’s also some more evidence from @sunlit-haru supporting the ‘that’s Elliot’ theory.

Now we’re up to the protagonist, who mind you is definitely my favorite so far. I will eliminate the rest of you protag dickriders so I will be the only simp left.

ANYWAYS, in the about page for this, it’s stated that this is a fangan for someone who wants to be the perfect teacher. Now with the hidden quote on the drdt tumblr page about this teacher…

( @demodraws0606 ‘s post)

Uh oh. I think we’ve figured out who this mysterious teacher might be. As for who is talking to them, I’ve personally got a few ideas, but they are not backed with any evidence.

1. The mastermind from this first killing game

2. Mai Akasaki or David Chiem still

3. The mastermind of the drdt killing game

Whoever it is, I think that these games are surely related and that each current kg participant does have a relation with one of these cast members. And that previous killing game’s end is why this one is happening.

Then, based off the post up top and a few others, people seem to think this is Teruko’s brother. I’m going to give a wild theory (no evidence) that Mai Akasaki knows him, only bc of the red in his hair. Then I think Mai would’ve found Teruko, and she would’ve been trying to reconnect them. Just a theory, though. There’s no evidence based around that this guy might be Teruko’s brother though, sadly.

Last but not least, @1moreff-creator pieced together some of the text on his badge:

I’m just gonna say that I’m seriously impressed with your efforts cause I have no fucking clue that could even be readable lmao.

*UPDATE ON TEXT: holy mother of god, @xmicrophonyx is a fucking god, and deciphered it. Here you go, and we all have got to give a serious thank you to them.

Sadly I cannot link the image of what the phone number gets to, but it gets linked to a yellow pill. I don’t have any ideas on how it would relate to the game, but I think it does. It’s used for high blood pressure and heart failure. If he’s really related to Teruko, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had high blood pressure lmao.

Also, the area code for 555 is just North America.

Here’s what I found on Wikipedia:

“The telephone number prefix 555 is a central office code in the North American Numbering Plan, used as the leading part of a group of 10,000 telephone numbers, 555-XXXX, in each numbering plan area (NPA) (area code). It has traditionally been used only for the provision of directory assistance, when dialing NPA-555-1212.

The central office code is also used for fictitious telephone numbers in North American television shows, films, video games, and other media in order to prevent practical jokers and curious callers from bothering telephone subscribers and organizations by calling telephone numbers they see in works of fiction.”

I don’t understand the first part, but it seems that this is a fictional number. If someone could explain to me wtf that first part even memes, I might be able to give more info.

Anyways, it seems that this guy ended up being a teacher at HPA, before or after the killing game. But I think this was very worth mentioning.

Unfortunately I’ve seen nothing about the next two, but I want to say that the girl in all pink (#8) I think is Felicity Giles, if that’s even possible. I just feel that’s Arturo’s sister. I know, I’m a weirdo. Even if #7 looks more like Arturo, I just cannot see it.

Moving on, nine and ten! If you look at them closely they’ve got the same eye pattern, suggesting they’re siblings, or likely twins, since they’ve got the fire/ice scheme going on.

Lastly, eleven which oh my god, Arturo’s dream girl! But she’s been theorized to be Whit’s mom. Here’s the post that argues a pretty convincing reason of why.

Oh boy. That woman is pretty cool and is very elegant, and has the same shade of blond hair that Whit dyed his too. I don’t think she’s any coincidence.

But joining along on that last little paragraph of this person’s post, it’s starting to seem a lot of characters do have connections to this cast and are seemingly mentioned quite a few times.

UPDATE: oh my lord, @accirax literally went on a deep dive for us and gave us a pretty good explanation and educated guess on everyone’s talents. I’m not going to link it because they covered pretty much every logical point as to why they have their guesses. Here’s the post if you haven’t already seen it https://www.tumblr.com/accirax/728687594893885440/drdt-new-character-talent-analysis

Anyways this is just the sum-up of everyone’s theorizing + a bit of my add on to it, and huge kudos to everyone who’s been making theories so far. I’ll be updating & crediting if there’s anymore notable things that come out.

Thanks for reading!

#drdt #drdt creator’s other fangan #drdt theory #danganronpadespairtime #drdtalt

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k-marzolf · 4 months

Text

Dandelion Fluff.

Warnings; established relationship, biblical and Greek references, fluff/angst, dark themes (kinda), alcohol consumption, kissing, codependency, fem!reader.

Tagging; @e-dubbc11 @firexfate @aoi-targaryen

514 words.

Sometimes his aching for you threatens to tear him apart at the seams.

“I love you like David loved Jonathan in the Bible.” You tell him, fingers twirling s flower in your hands as you both sit in the dewy grass.

“Yeah?” He asks, fingers content to sit on your thigh.

“As my own soul.” You say, putting the flower behind his ear, mouth brushing his hairline.

Billy hates how he feels his cheeks turn warm and pink, but he plays it off, by flipping you onto your back, and kissing you firmly on the mouth.

The flower falls from behind his ear, and drifts away in the wind.

Often, Billy feels like the flower, dandelion fluff in the wind when he is with you, light and carefree. He wants to climb into your heart and live there.

He loves you with a violence that startles him. There’s no one he wouldn’t kill for you. He’d take you out of the underworld like Orpheus attempted with Eurydice.

But he’d fight and claw his way out with you, and when you’d come out on the other side, he’d kiss you covered in the blood of his enemies.

His fingers knead your thighs in the bath, watching you drink from his glass of bourbon, and laughing when you make a face. “Want some wine, little bird?” He asks, before climbing out and fetching you some.

“Do you think we can be together in the next life?” You ask, sipping from the wine.

Billy’s eyes watch you, “I’ll fight through every enemy just to find you, to take you and make you mine, in every life.”

You smile sweetly, “I would for you, too. Mama would say we’re codependent.”

Billy huffs a laugh, “Who the hell cares? We’re happy aren’t we?”

You kiss his chin, “Very. I’d kill for you, though. Anyone who tried taking you from me.”

It’s the first time Billy sees a dark edge from you. And he likes it.

“I think you’re like Achilles. Strong. The greatest warrior.” You say over the phone one evening when he was overseas for Anvil.

Billy hums, “And who’s Frankie?”

“Patroclus.” You say, stretching your legs out, sipping your tea and watching something on television.

You can practically hear Billy smile over the phone. “You’re sweet, little bird.”

“I miss you,” you say. “Even your disgusting bourbon. It tastes like your kisses.”

The words are on the tip of his tongue. I love you.

You’ve fallen asleep on the recliner, a book held loosely in your hands.

A cigarette hangs out of Billy’s mouth as he takes your book, looking at it. The Bible, he realizes flipping through it seeing the verses you’d highlighted.

He has never believed, if God is real, he has forsaken him, Billy thinks.

He stumbles across a verse. “I loved you at your darkest,” with a note in the margins. “I love Billy like this.”

He sets the Bible down, covering you with a blanket, before sitting on the couch, smoking his cigarette quietly, exhaling.

He loves you at your darkest, too.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader

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