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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 months

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The Host | Yandere Zoldyck Family

“I’m so happy, we were able to locate the portal so quickly! Now you all can return to your world without breaking the space-time continuum!” You mused, happily sipping on the piping hot tea in front of you.

Whether you liked it or not, you wouldn’t have refused this cup. After all, it was specially crafted for and given to you by the reclusive Zoldycks. It was an honor—more like a miracle that you were being served an un-poisoned cup of tea.

You were used to prickly (read as: murderous) anomalies that were ejected into the aimless void of time. As per your occupation you housed and befriended said anomalies until it was time that they returned to their dimensions.

When you were selected at the end of your life for this position, the galactic overlords in charge assured you that this was a duty perfect for you. That no matter what, your tenants would find themselves comforted by you during their time there.

You begged to disagree even though none of your tenants had successfully ended your life yet. You prepared yourself for the day they one day would.

“Yes, it will be a shame to lose contact with a host as pleasant as you.”

Zeno smiled, closing his eyes as brought his own cup to his mouth. Letting a hand fall over your heart you silently thanked him. Another hand reached for you tearing your attention away from the former head.

“It is a shame your work keeps you so busy!” Kikyo cried, holding your hand. Gingerly running the pads of her fingers over your knuckles.

“Ah, but I feel as though I haven’t worked a day.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you like this job of yours?” The old man raised his brow.

“Of course! When I’m not hosting I’m free to do what I please and the guests that come by always make things interesting.”

Memories of the various visitors came to mind as you smiled; Kikyo puckered her lip in a pout. Her clutch on your hand had gotten slightly tighter, nothing alarming but noticeable.

“But don’t you feel overworked? Tired? Lonely?”

“There’s always the other people in the town.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have expected them to have any intelligible conversation.”

You dismissed the slight towards your community, it’d be impossible for her to realize their worth within the year. Granted they weren’t particularly strong or inquisitive; it wasn’t like they were built to be outstanding anyway. Nonetheless, they were kind to you and always understanding when it came to the guests. Not once have you needed to send a complaint to upper management. Everyone played their prescribed roles without fail.

“They can be really pleasant, once you get to know them.”

Zeno sighed, “So you say but I can’t imagine you not caring for them. You're always so forgiving.”

“Well…they have their flaws.”

“Ah! You’re too humble (Y/n)! The least they can do is honor your contribution to their pathetic lives!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Zoldyck but a cake every once in a while is good enough for me.”

“Ah! So simple (Y/n), it screams you no nothing of luxury!”

“Really I feel as though I’ve almost been overwhelmed with it with the Zoldycks here.”

“Please! If you could see the Zoldyck Estate in our world, you’d truly know luxury!”

You let her continue, chatting with her and Zeno, who occasionally chimed in. It was time to enjoy their company for they’d be gone before you knew it.

____________________________________

“Ne (Y/n)! Alluka wants to hold onto your jacket for a bit is that alright?”

“Oh? I barely noticed I left it behind but sure.”

You continued to walk side by side with Killua making your way to your destination. The wind was cold. Wisping at your cheeks and nose as you mesmerized yourself with the smoky puff your breath made. Catching cat-like blue eyes watching you with amusement you stopped, replacing it with an embarrassed smile.

He snickered. “What? Don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh Killua you're the only kid that makes me feel like a silly child again.”

“Eh?! You make it sound like I’m the reason you’re just childish anyway.”

You playfully hummed. “Hm. Maybe I am.”

You shared a laugh before letting your eyes begin to wander. Looking past the trees of the park to admire the clouded sky blending into the freezing lake. Despite having walked this path millions of times before, it never failed to take your breath away. Making you sigh in awe, you minded the frozen droplets hanging off the naked branches; looking as though they were a part of some artist’s canvas.

Even the rosiness that danced at your cheeks brought by your body’s attempt to warm you in the frigid season, felt magical in its own right. It was easy to lose sight of your path as your feet remember the way; allowing you to drift.

But before you could go too far the warmth of another hand-a smaller hand in your pocket brought you back. Looking down in surprise at the blushing owner looking away from you. You chuckled intertwining his smaller, rougher hand with yours as you walked with a pep in your step.

“I-I’m just keeping my hand warm. Where I’m from it never gets this cold.”

You smirked. “Sure!”

You didn’t believe him and he knew that. But that wasn’t the point anyway.

“You two seem to be getting along well.”

The monotone voice stopped the both of you in your tracks. Standing in a slim-fitted insulating jacket was the eldest of the Zoldyck children. Standing precisely on the crack in the sidewalk he demanded you meet at. You didn’t miss the annoyed click of Killua’s teeth. Or the blank foreboding stare directed at a specific pocket of yours.

“Yup, Killua offered to walk me to our meetup spot. If you’re alright with it, I wouldn’t mind if he came with us.”

Illumi robotically tilted his head, his eyes still trained on the same spot it had been focused on since he started watching you.

“I doubt Kil would find any enjoyment in where we’re going.”

Killua's eye twitched. “Oh? Where are you going?”

“Somewhere for adults, I’m sure you’d find it boring.”

“Really try me,”

The two intensely held each other’s gaze, vaguely conveying that this may need your intervention. With a well-timed sneeze, you might have saved yourself and the whole park from their ‘playful’ exchange of blows. Illumi seemed to back down first stepping closer to your unoccupied side where he waited for his brother to leave.

Said brother didn’t look all too convinced. Squeezing his hand in yours brought his attention to you, already smiling in silent reassurance.

“Hey, take care of my sweater for me ‘kay.”

The silent message was heard as Killua, who begrudgingly released your hand from his hold. With a final glare towards his brother, he’d begun to leave, watching as you turned and waved to him as he went. He also watched as his brother slipped his hand into your opposite pocket. With a final click of his tongue, he moved at speeds practically impossible for the human eye back to the apartment you’d organized for him and Alluka.

Making your way wordlessly out of the park, finally stopping within the toasty insides of a ceramics shop. With the unmolded clay in front of you and the guide having finished their instruction, you finally giggled at Illumi.

“I’d hardly call ceramics an adults-only event.”

Illumi didn’t laugh, he didn’t even look up from the shape he was focused on molding.

“I would. He isn’t a part of this so it isn’t bizarre for it to be considered an adult event.”

You decided to keep quiet about the toddler two tables down. Instead, you poked your head over the assassin’s shoulder to see what he was making. Glad you hadn’t started working on your own creation, you pulled back the raven locks that were spilling dangerously close to his work in progress.

Missing the slight stutter of his fingertips as he registered the soft, gentle hold of your fingertips he continued. Opting to focus solely on his creation with more intensely.

“I’m so glad I brought a hair tie for this exact moment.”

“...if you don’t hurry up your clay will dry and your money will go to waste.”

“Ah. So money conscious.”

Finished with a nice low ponytail, you scooched back into your seat; prepared to begin your own creation. Sparing a glance at Illumi, you expected he’d be laser-focused on his work but instead he was staring at you unapologetically. While you found this wasn’t uncommon for him it didn’t change the fact that it was still odd.

“So uh what are you making?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m just asking, are you worried I’ll make fun?”

“My finished product will be more than enough to answer you, right?

“I guess so.”

You had an inkling of worry that he’d create something graphic and horrific. But you had to remind yourself: he wasn’t Milluki. Who unapologetically, on multiple accounts, scarred surprised you with animal entrails, graphic posters, and concerning digital art that bore striking resemblance to you.

Speaking of striking resemblance…you had a glorious idea.

____________________________________________________

“So…what is it?”

You hated to ask but you had to. The ceramic resembled the bare requirements of a face colored by a paint color akin to your skin tone. Somehow when you turned your head to the left side you saw a screaming face but when you turned your head to the right it looked as though it was smiling.

“....”

He just stared at you blankly (as he usually did) but you could tell there was something unfamiliar. He turned his head away from you as he reached for his creation back.

“If you can’t tell than it shouldn’t matter.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’m sorry!”

You held the…thing in your hands with care as you bore witness to the rare sight of an embarrassed Illumi.

“Even if I don’t know what it is I think it’s beautiful in its own right.”

“Don’t lie its unbecoming of you.”

“I’m not lying!”

You let him snatch it from your hand and tuck it in his pocket. Smiling to yourself, you found comfort in that he didn’t immediately toss it into the trashcan by the doorway. Catching up with his quick pace you held you’re wrapped creation to your chest.

“I would like to continue on now.”

“Don’t just sweep it under the rug! It’s all about growth.”

_____________________________________________

“Here you are Kalluto!”

He was doing what you had suggested: finding his own style. Alas, he still found himself taking the most buried articles of clothing from your closet and posing in the mirror. If you had noticed you didn’t say much, when you let yourself into the room he’d been given.

“I made it just for you.”

The vase had a pink hue, with speckles of purple. He liked it but he was curious why he was gifted this.

“I based it off the color of your eyes. I saw the shade being offered and I thought it’d be a perfect souvenir for you.”

His cheeks were overtaken by a hot crimson as he gingerly accepted the small vase. He loved it! Holding it close to his chest he almost missed the presence of his eldest brother outside his room. Judging by the slim-fitted jacket, his hat, and his pointed stare at the gift itself told Kalluto everything he needed to know. So that was his decision, for his day out with you? The ceramics shop?

The image of you crafting something while smiling along with him. Hands touching one another while you both crafted something beautiful. Your attention solely focused on him.

He’s so jealous.

“Thank you. It looks beautiful.”

“ I’m so happy you like it! I was worried I wouldn’t get the color right but looking at you now I see I’m right on the mark.”

Kalluto’s cheeks never changed from heir red color, causing him to tuck his head into the collar of the shirt he stole from you borrowed. Sending a cautious look at the figure in the doorway he took a gamble. He put the vase down, quickly moving to nestle his head into your stomach almost immediately having your arms wrap around him. He didn’t bother locking eyes with the observer, instead pretending to be fully enveloped by your attention.

If he did have a problem, Kalluto could argue that his time with you was limited. Therefore nothing was off the table. Not when their access to you would be gone forever. He’d rather it not be that way.

__________________________________________________

“Silva.”

The call of his wife had the current head of the Zoldyck family, wordlessly asking what she needed. Nonetheless, he responded in kind.

“Kikyo.”

The two of them were seated a ways apart from one another each sipping on their respective drinks as the candles slowly burned.

“We need to talk about (Y/n).”

“What is there to talk about?”

He knew what she wanted to talk about. Those of any authority within the Zoldyck family already had a gray consensus about their host. All that was needed was definite words, so that they could be a united front on the subject.

“On the topic of (Y/n) coming with us.”

Silva crossed his arms.

“We cannot.”

“Why not? All of us like them! They show promise in maintaining the family, they’ve even convinced Kil to come home more often!”

He wanted to grit his teeth but he didn’t. Only brought his cup to his mouth for a pensive sip.

“No, they’d never survive training. Let alone our world in general.”

He maintained his composure as he parroted Zeno’s consultation. Even as his wife slammed her own cup on the tray and opened her mouth to protest. He knew she’d ask because he had asked.

“Mr. Silva. Is it okay if I call you that or would you rather it be Mr. Zoldyck?”

It amazed him that such a meek, small, weak host would have made him even consider bringing you along with them when they returned. Their host couldn’t be farther from them brimming with compassion and mindfulness that brought out a side the family had long since fought against.

It shouldn’t have enamored them as it had. But it did. Leaving everyone in the family vying for their attention. With them the family’s prowess in killing meant nothing and it didn’t do any favors in garnering positive response.

But it was for that exact reason Zeno mused that they’d never fit in the Zoldyck family. Even if they chose the route of marrying you into the family it would diminish your time with the everyone. Favoring the one they’d marry over all others. It’d be so unfair

“Husband, this opportunity to attain a sliver of another world would benefit the Zoldyck family! Even more so as a tenant or as a servant under all our care! It wouldn’t impede the family’s strength and their rules to serve would make them an asset to explore.”

“And have them reach a butler’s strength alone. At their level?”

Kikyo hung her head covering her visor with her hands as she resisted the urge to weep. Silva refused to look at her, focusing intensely on the still liquid in his cup. The pain in this revelation was mutual.

“Mr. Silva, did you go to aquariums when you were younger?”

“For missions.”

“What about on your own?”

“What would be the purpose of that?”

“I don’t know, to see the animals. To learn about them.”

“What use would learning about these animals do? If there is no time that I’ll be within their biome it would do nothing for me to retain this information.”

“Isn’t it nice to just be in awe though? To just fathom loosely about the world we barely have begun to discover?”

The image of their excited face illuminated by the tank was the moment Silva’s first felt that emotion. It reminded him of meeting Kikyo, of having his heir, of establishing a budding lineage. He learned that feeling was better not left ignored for it could very well determine the safety of the ones he felt it for.

He’s seen it in his children, in all his children, so he could only see what he could control spiraling for the others. He could only think about the repercussions for when they returned home. There’d be no way to cull it easily; with you being literal dimensions apart.

Kikyo’s sulking stopped abruptly her hands folding to sit on her lap.

“Perhaps there is a way to bring them without breaking the rules.”

Blue eyes look at her expectantly.

“The Zoldyck’s have not encountered anyone worthy enough to consider adoption.”

“Adoption?”

“Yes, the process hasn’t been used within the family before…if it were to be implemented–” There was something hopeful within her voice and a twitch of a smile on Silva’s lip.

“Then the rules that qualify the one adopted would be entirely up to the head of the family.”

Silva attempted to resist the smile that spread across his face, as he leaned back onto his hand. How apparent would it be that their host had such an impact on them since they left the mansion? But even so, this was proof that they should have their host after all.

“I’ll have to check with Zeno…but perhaps it might be a veritable solution.”

____________________________________________

You were glad you spent the night before sobbing your heart out. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to smile through the Zoldyck’s goodbyes. Granted none of them, except for Kalluto and Alluka, were even close to shedding a single tear. Nonetheless, you hugged them all trying to calm yourself.

The otherworldly energy spewing from the portal never made you nervous before and yet your hair was standing on end. Your tolerance for fearful situations had decreased significantly as you got to know the Zoldyck family but it never completely went away. You weren’t an idiot.

They were a family of assassins.

It’s foolish not to expect threats on your life at every other turn. But this had an effect on you on a deeper level than that. This was more unsettling.

Was it the amount of place-holding spirits killed during their stay? Or the physical planet of this dimension lurching as it coughed up one of the most murderous families to stay here? Or was there something wrong with the integrity of the dimension itself?

You were tethered to the realm and it was tethered to you. For the most part, it only means you have a loose idea of what’s to come with the weather or an effect on a guest’s actions. But in times of dire situations, you’ve had the world reach out to you. At this point, you were already looking for a sign.

But that wasn’t your main focus not when the younger ones were keeping you occupied. Hanging on your arms were Alluka and Killua; the latter was playfully mirroring the former.

“Aw (Y/n)! We’ll miss you so much!”

“Yeah! We’ll miss you soooo much!”

“Ah Killua at least you could pretend to be serious about this.”

Spying Kalluto a ways off clutching the vase you had made him you gave him a small smile.

“This relocation didn’t turn out to be a complete waste.”

Milluki spoke up, unabashed as he pulled along a cart of all his anime and gaming memorabilia. You could see the invisible sneers of disgust from majority of the family, Killua didn’t even bother hiding his.

“For once I’d agree,” Illumi chimed sending a bottomless look in your direction. “There were plenty of…unexpected trades to learn in a world devoid of hunters.”

“Thank you?” You shrugged.

Zeno let out a chuckle putting a thoughtful hand on your back.

“I think all of us in the Zoldyck family have learned quite a bit.” You had to fight the tears now.

“For that we thank you.”

The entirety of the Zoldyck family bowed to you, leaving you to fight tears at the demonstration of respect and love they had for an average-dimensional host. Fanning at the water building up in your eyes you bowed and thanked them yourselves.

“You guys! Get over here and give me hugs!”

You made sure to hug every member of the family even if they made unsettling comments as you did Milluki.

Getting the timing perfectly right the portal opened to its full size, the electric blue illuminating everyone’s faces. You could smell the atmosphere of the Kukuroo mountain and the forest upon it. All that was left to do was for them to enter.

“Alright now as stated before time has only been an hour in your world. Now you will be coming down from the sky but I’m sure you all will manage.”

“Thank you for everything (Y/n).”

You bowed your head to the patriarch missing the devious glint in his eyes.

“Of course.”

Starting with Silva they each dove into the portal, leaving you to stand by yourself in the field of sunflowers selected as a gateway. Turning away from the flashing portal you could finally address the world’s message for you. The surrounding grass began to lay down unnaturally, spelling out a word.

“They–”

You bent to down watching as the green blades folded into more words, filling your heart with trepidation as it spelled slowly.

“--will not–”

The blades continued to fold slowly as the sunflower stems frantically sprouted from the ground. Not bothering to wriggle free from the stems wrapping around your wrists, you tried to hurry the world’s spelling. Why did you feel like you needed to rush?

“-let you go–? Wait what the he-”

Before you could finish a translucent, glowing, and golden dragon, like one from Japanese folklore came out of the portal. Wrapping around your entire body it skillfully carried you into the shrinking portal. Only stopping for a short time to wriggle free of the sunflowers that were simultaneously pulling at your limbs.

Now on the other side of the portal, you were being pulled backward. Your front looking at the endless sky watching the portal shrink and close, slicing the desperately reaching sunflowers and their stems.

Something within you seemed to break but before you could dwell on that you finally tried to register what was going on.

“AHHHHH!”

Diving with you in it’s coil the dragon was rocketing in the direction of a mansion. All you could do was hold tight as the dragon slowed to a stop. Gently letting you lie on the floor, taking a moment to ground yourself you barely registered the booming voice.

“Congratulations (Y/n), you’ve been inducted into the Zoldyck Family.”

“W-what?”

“As the adopted of the Zoldyck, you’re duty to the family is to be protected and to participate in the family to the best of your limited abilities.”

“Wait—”

“Per your lack of Zoldyck blood, your title as the adopted is willing to change for the family’s convenience.”

“HOLD ON!” You stood up fully holding your shaking hands out as you began to process what this would mean. Before you can get a word in Kikyo runs up to you, shoving your head into her chest as she rocks your unsteady form.

“Rejoice my (Y/n)! Now for all the care you’ve given us, we get to take care of you!”

“Mother, you’ll smother them.”

“Ah big brother, don’t need to get jealous I’m sure you’ll get your turn.”

“I know that.”

Unable to speak or look too far away, you felt Alluka and Kalluto grab at your pant legs. No doubt they glared at one another as they vied for your attention.

“(Y/n)!” ”(Y/n)!”

Being no help at all Killua wasn’t too far behind, ”Oi don’t hog them all.”

Whether it was the exhaustion of dimensional travel or losing air within your mother Kikyo’s breast. Beginning to lose consciousness you could barely make out the ghost of a smile on Silva’s face. Zeno withheld no courtesy, smiling happily as he turned away.

After all, you were home with them. Where you belonged.

Surely the Zoldyck family could handle the dimensional repercussions of claiming their host.

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vimse · 2 months

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Hi, have my humble contribution of a Valentine’s Day card 💕

Edit: Oh my god forgive me, it’s delirious hour over here. Credits for the text goes to @nika6q, thank you for letting me use this one 🫶

#the bad batch #tbb tech #tech tbb #the bad batch tech #clone trooper tech #the bad batch valentines #clone force 99 #valentine’s day card #vimse art #I wish I could do more but I’m so overwhelmed by school right now

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mondritter · 2 months

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Since the vampire cover won't come to me I'll go to her >:)

Here my humble contribution buckynat:

It took me ages and it could have been much better (you can see where I gave up lmao) but the universe decided to get mean 💀

Here is the cover I took as a reference:

I decided to use their current costumes in the hope that I would like Bucky's outfit... It didn't work out lmao

Either way, I hope you like it!

#buckynat #winterwidow #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #my art #Vampire cover #marvel 616 #We may not have an official cover but that will not stop us #Ahora a regresar a ser la piñata del universo 🙃

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radiofreederry · 9 months

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Hey all!

So, as many of you know, I began livestreaming this year. I hope to continue doing this, and I also have plans to expand into video content creation on the subject of left-wing history and theory, based on the positive reception to my birthday posts, beginning with videos on Eugene Debs, the Industrial Workers of the World, and the American socialist movement of the early 20th century.

However, it's become apparent that my current hardware is not equipped for these purposes. I'm working off an older Asus laptop, which is fine for web browsing and some creative work, but has proven inadequate for my purposes. As those of you who've been on my streams know, I suffer at least one crash every stream, and I've had to make compromises with my setup to mitigate the issue. High-level video editing of the type I'm hoping to do is also not possible on my current machine.

I want to make an upgrade, but with current and upcoming expenses, including changing jobs, saving for a new apartment and vehicle, and the costs that will come with bringing my dog Gumbo to live with me, I'll need help in order to make that upgrade on a timely schedule. I've done my research and have identified a couple of laptops which will suit my purposes, all of which cost somewhere in the range of $2000 or less. I'm hoping to raise money in order to purchase one and use that to produce the content which I've been wanting to make for you all.

My birthday is coming up in a month on September 7, so if you would like to make a donation to fund this effort, you can consider it a birthday gift if you like. If you include your URL in a subject line, I'll send you a thank you message on here, as well as read out a thank you message on stream or in a video.

Please note that this is not a fundraiser to enrich me personally, but an effort to invest in an ability to make content which I'd like to put out. As such, if costs for the equipment exceed the $2000 I'm seeking to raise, I will be footing the rest of the bill myself. In addition, any additional funds leftover will be donated to the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund, which helps to provide free medical care to children in need in the Middle East. I will keep none of the money for myself.

My CashApp is listed above. If you would prefer to contribute via Venmo or PayPal, please contact me via DM and I'll send you my information on those platforms.

Thank you all very much in advance, I'm both grateful and humbled by your continued support.

0/2000

#psa

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bluecollarmcandtf · 4 months

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Hypno Handyman Inc.

So I got this idea about a week ago: what if I used some hypnosis to help my failing repair business. See, all of today's young men are afraid of getting their hands dirty, and it's been impossible to hire any of those pansies. So I thought, 'Why not hypnotize them instead?'

This is Tim and Jim. They're identical twins, but I made Jim shave his head so I could tell them apart. Wait, maybe that was Tim. I don't remember, but it doesn't matter anymore! What's important is that they've been thoroughly hypnotized. Just look at the dopey grins they always have on!

These brothers were once my neighbors, back when they were influencers or something. I'm not really sure what they did for work, but now they are actually contributing members of society. I did them some good, bringing them under my control. Now they actually enjoy all the long hours and hard menial labor.

"Go ahead and tell 'em what your doing, boys!"

"Sure, boss," Tim answers brightly, "Jim and I are just grabbing some tools for a job. Mrs. Jones has a leaky pipe again."

"This is the third time this month." Jim explains with a blank smile.

I chuckle and shake my head. Mrs. Jones, the retired widow, was almost definitely just calling so she could oggle these young men as they tinker with a problem she made up. She's definitely wasting my employees' time, but I don't mind as long as she keeps paying.

"Just remember your new mantra, boys," I check.

Their bodies stiffen as they robotically relay what I taught them, "We work for you. We are your handymen. We work hard, stay humble, and always respect our client and our boss."

"That's right," I beam with pride, "Go ahead and unbutton your uniforms, boys. If Mrs. Jones wants a show, you're gonna give her one."

"Yes, boss!" they declare, smiling as they loosen their shirts before packing their tools in the truck.

They used to have a real attitude problem: thought awfully highly of themselves since they were 'TickTock famous' or whatever. Obviously, that was the first thing I corrected in their personalities. Tim and Jim are now just the perfect humble and eager-to-please workers they should be. I don't think I've seen them drop those stupid smiles in weeks!

This here is Rodrigo. He used to be a model or something, which meant he had practically no skills or common sense to begin with. At least his simple mind was super easy to hypnotize. I tried programming a bunch of common knowledge about plumbing or mechanics in that head of his, but it never stuck. That's why I always have him doing the simple heavy lifting.

"What's up, Rigo! Working hard?"

"Yes, boss," he reports with a heavy breath, "I'm just hauling the fresh supplies into the garage."

"Glad, I can count on you, boy," I clap him on his shoulder, pleased to find his hard work soaking into his uniform, "It's hard work, but someone's gotta do it!"

"Yes, boss," he agrees, and turns his head to the floor as he gets back to it.

I doubt that boy ever had a hard day of work before he met me. He didn't have a shred of real muscle on him when I found him. The only thing his pretty arms could carry were a bunch of shopping bags from the mall.

He threw all that fancy attire away after I had him under trance. I think those clothes on his back are the only thing he owns now. It's not like any of my guys need something nice to wear. They're just my handymen, after all, and I intend to milk their hard-working asses for all their worth.

This last guy is my newest recruit. He came crawling to me when he got fired at his last job. His name is Cameron, and he's been quite a handful. Out of all the idiots I've hypnotized so far, he's been able to resist the most.

He's still thoroughly under my control, but I can't seem to control his thoughts like I can with the other guys. That's why I have him doing all the nastiest jobs. Hopefully it'll break that strong will of his!

"Hey, Cammy," I call.

"Don't call me that!" he snaps, "I'm not your damn puppet like those other freaks!"

His words have venom in them, but his body doesn't seem to agree. His head stays bowed in a mock of submission as he diligently searches the supply closet.

"What you lookin' for, Cammy?" I ask.

"The fucking plunger! You've got me on clogged toilet duty, remember?" he growled in frustration, "How long are you going to keep me doing this?"

"There's a lot of people who aren't willing to clean their shitters," I explain, "And you'll keep doing it as long as people will pay!"

I let out a sigh as Cameron continues to get more and more frustrated. Despite his radical glare, his body can't stop searching for that plunger.

"It's in the bathroom," I finally admit, "Go ahead and kiss each of our shitters while your in their."

Cameron's face twists in disgust as his body obediently marches past me, carrying him to our company restroom. He's clearly angry beyond words for being made to degrade himself once again. One day I'll get him to see me as a respectable employer just like the rest of the guys do. It's only a matter of time.

"Hey Cammy!" I call before he leaves, "Don't forget about tonight. You remember what we discussed yesterday, right?"

Despite all his internalized rage, his eyes glaze over as my hypnotic instructions kick in, "I'm on house duty. I will cook, serve, and clean up dinner for you and the rest of the men. I will be ready to give massages and showers to you and the rest of the men. I will not let myself relax until you and the rest of the men have no need of me. I will be on house duty every night forever, until you say otherwise."

"That's right," I smile in amusement, "Carry on!"

His vacant stare melts away, and he quickly adopts his trademark glare. His hands ball into fists like he's about to fight back, but he just turns and walks down the hallway. I chuckle at the idea of him in that empty bathroom, angrily kissing each of our toilet seats.

I put aside Cameron's defiance and relish just how far my repair business has gone. Not only am I making a ton more money than when it was just me, but I also have a whole flock of guys to keep me company. Even though they are all products of a weaker generation, I am well on my way towards turning each of them into real men like myself.

Already, I have Tim, Jim, and Rodrigo sipping beers and watching football with me after work everyday. I'll tell you that none of those boys enjoyed either of those things before they met me. Eventually, I'll have them genuinely laughing at all my jokes too!

Whether or not Malcolm comes around, is honestly unimportant. As long as he keeps up the disrespect, I'll keep him in the worst jobs and the longest hours.

I'm telling you, hypnotizing your employees is the way to go! So, let me know if you need any help getting your workers under your control. Or just let me know if you need a good old-fashioned handyman to fix something for you!

My boys will do anything as long as you fork over some cash...

#gay hypnosis #hypno story #gay mind control #mind control #hypnotized #male transformation #blue collar

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troublesomesnitch · 1 month

Text

Uneasy Lies the Head

Aegon Targaryen x Aemond Targaryen (but subtle)

This is my contribution to @targaryen-dynasty's Sleepover Challenge! I was given the prompt only one bed/forced proximity and came up with this little drabble.

Contents: masturbation, lots of incestuous vibes, but no actual incest (sorry). Also minor 'historical' and HOTD inaccuracies.

Words: 1600

Military camps are a humble affair. Even for a king.

They have been on the march for days, waiting for news of the enemy’s movements, and enduring the most discouraging conditions. Dust caking onto their skin, painful bug bites, and having to shit in a ditch in the woods, just to name a few.

Aegon’s tent is the nicest by far, but it is still a poor imitation of what he is used to. There are furs laid out on the ground, and an oil lamp hung from the rafters, but the banner on the wall is crooked, and the furnishings leave much to be desired. All they’ve arranged for him is a wobbly table, six uncomfortable chairs, and two cots on the ground.

One for the king, and one for his brother.

They have not shared a chamber since they were boys. Aegon doesn’t mind it so much, but Aemond’s mouth forms an even thinner line than usual, and he makes a terrible fuss when he undresses for bed. It will be scorching hot in the tent come the morning, but his shirt stays on, and he pulls at the edge until it reaches the middle of his thighs. Lest anything indecent be on show.

“Seven hells, I’m your brother,” Aegon says, but it only earns him an irritated sound as Aemond settles on his cot. Flat on his back, hands folded over his chest, and not a single wrinkle in the sheets draped across his form.

Aegon retires too, much earlier than he usually would. He is sore in his muscles, and fed up with bickering advisors and difficult decisions. With riding all day, with hurry up and wait.

There are wineskins being passed around outside, and girls too, the usual camp followers. But none of them much appealed to him tonight. Nothing out here really does.

And yet.

When Aegon wakes sometime in the small hours, it is with a terrible ache between his legs. His cock is hard, lying stiff and leaking against his stomach, and there is a tightness in his balls that demands attention.

He has not had the chance to indulge in pleasures of the solitary kind, as the camp offers him no privacy - not when he is surrounded by lords at all times, and certainly not now, with Aemond sleeping just a few feet away.

He is so close that Aegon can hear his slow breaths, and smell his scent of sweat and expensive oils. Somehow, it is strangely comforting. Nice to know that he perspires just the same as everyone else, even if there’s still a pleasant hint of sandalwood underneath.

In fact, Aegon does not believe he has ever seen his brother in such a candid state as just now. Aemond’s face is flushed with heat, and his lips are ever so slightly parted; dry and chapped from the harsh summer sun. The shirt is still on, but damp with sweat and loosened at the neck, baring his glistening collar bones; the golden hair that curls on his chest.

Aegon still has that boyish quality about him, but Aemond looks like a fully grown man. Like someone who could and should lead an army to battle. He acts more like a grown man too, as Aegon will be the first to admit. Noble. Dignified.

Aemond would never be caught drunkenly roaming the streets of King’s Landing. He does not share his brother's fondness for spirits and women.

Once, when they were alone in the training yard, Aegon had dared to ask you do fuck, right?, and Aemond had rolled his eye and looked at him as though it was the stupidest question he’d ever heard.

Aegon took that as a yes.

He would like for them to share a girl sometime, like royal princes should, like Father and Daemon undoubtedly did in their youth. He would even let Aemond choose the girl, picky as he is, and let him have first pick of her openings too. He’d choose her cunt of course, because that is the proper way, but he wouldn’t call it her cunt, he would call it something more poetic and ridiculous. Her womanhood. Her flower.

Twat.

But it is still a nice thing for Aegon to imagine when he starts quietly fisting his cock under the sheet. A whore kneeling on a bed, Aemond behind her and himself by her head. Cocks buried to the hilt, and wet, squelching noises coming from both ends. Aemond’s balls slapping against her arse, and his own hitting her chin.

Or, if that is not to Aemond’s liking, then Aegon would be glad to switch places. The girl would be on her back, and he would fuck her the usual way, and they could make her squeeze her tits together and have Aemond fuck the valley in between. Because that is the one thing Aegon knows about his brother’s preferences - he does like a good pair of tits. And it’d be perfect for Aegon too, because while he would get to feel the girl’s insides, he would also be able to look at the action in front of him. See her fleshy, bouncing tits, and Aemond’s cock sliding in between. Hard, and glistening with oil, as obviously they would need some lubrication. Aegon could even help hold her tits in place, if need be. In such a position, his and Aemond’s bodies would be so close that they’d have no choice but to move together, keep the same rhythm, or else neither would be able to find his release. What a dirty thing that would be, to fuck like that. Together.

But unfortunately, it is highly unlikely that Aemond would ever agree to something so exceedingly intimate.

So perhaps they would take turns instead, in which case Aegon would be charitable and volunteer to be second for once. He would not ask the girl to wash herself in between - he would fuck her right after, while her cunt was still full of his brother’s emission.

And of course, the filthiest thing of all would be to make use of both of her holes at once. Aegon can think of only one position that would make it possible: the girl would have to be on all fours, and Aemond would lie underneath her and fuck up into her cunt. He would have her tits in his face, squeezing them tight and sucking on her nipples, and then Aegon would stand between his legs and slide his cock into the girl’s arse.

The thought of it makes his balls feel tight, and he pumps his cock with one hand, and massages his sack with the other, spurred on by the filthy images in his head.

A pretty girl bent over a table, or riding his brother, or taking them both in her mouth at the same time. His own cock pulsing in her arse. Aemond in his moment of ecstasy, spilling himself all over her tits.

They would leave her covered and full of their royal seed. Dragon’s seed. Surely for a common whore there could be no higher honour.

Aegon tries his best to keep silent when he comes, gritting his teeth and gripping onto the edge of his cot. His cock throbs, and he rubs the tip of it hard, each squirt of seed making his body tremble and his hips thrust up. Unwittingly, and over and over until he finally feels relieved and can wipe his fingers clean on the sheet.

It is quiet in the tent, and unsettlingly quiet outside. The sounds of drunkenness have died down, and even the grasshoppers have stopped chirping, as if time itself stood still.

With his urges now taken care of, it takes only moments for the knot in Aegon's stomach to tighten once more.

There will be a great battle, and then several more after that, and hundreds, thousands of men will die in his name. Their wives will mourn, and their children will starve when no one is left to farm the lands, and all of the grains they have saved will soon be requisitioned for the armies. Green and black alike.

In the weeks that have passed since his coronation, Aegon has come to realise that his father’s crown was too light and too shiny, and that the blackened iron he now wears is a better adornment. It is heavy, and ugly, and a much truer reflection of what it means to be king; of the burden he must now carry on his woefully ill-prepared shoulders.

There are two with whom he can share it, though. Two who would die for his cause, out of love as much as duty, and one of them is asleep in this very room.

“Aemond,” he calls, quietly, like he would often do when they were very little and still slept in the nursery. As if to make sure he was still there. “Aemond. Aemond. Aemond?”

“What,” Aemond grumbles, hoarse with sleep, but as irritable as always. He stirs on his cot, wiping the sweat off his brow and shuffling around under the sheet. The soaked shirt is pulled over his head and tossed aside. Too hot.

“I told you,” Aegon says.

“Are you quite finished,” is his brother’s sullen response.

It must just be the talking he’s referring to, but. Aegon can’t be sure.

Proof read, but my brain is mush today, so sincere apologies for all the stuff I've missed.

#aemondtarqaryenssleepover #aegond #hotd fanfic #aemond x aegon #aegon targaryen #aemond targaryen #aegmond #targcest

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deakyjoe · 2 days

Text

Pattern Breaker

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (afab)

Category: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love

Summary: A love confession turns to more once Bob knows you’re interested.

Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), protected p in v sex, f receiving oral (pussy eating king), vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, handjob, kissing, groping, scratching/marking, Bob fucks, love confessions, fluff, talks of bad dates, reader described as having hair and being shorter than Bob (but nothing else), swearing/cursing - let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 7.1k (it kinda ran away from me)

A/N: My humble contribution to the Bob Fucks Agenda 🫡

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Bob Floyd was head over heels in love with you.

Yet he had no idea what series of mistakes had landed him here. In the Hard Deck. With you. Sat next to him. In a tight booth. Your tight pressed up against his. Tracing patterns with the tip of your finger on the back of his hand. Many would argue that this didn't seem like a bad thing. Why would something so intimate with someone he was in love with be a mistake? Well, the issue was that you were doing it in a totally platonic way.

You were doing it mindlessly too, as you engaged in idle conversation with Phoenix opposite you, which almost made it worse. Bob Floyd's brain was whirring at a million miles per second over something you were doing without even thinking about it. It took every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from moving. Closer to you or further away, he didn't know. But he tried to stay still. So very still. Just so you'd keep doing it.

He was also desperately trying to pay attention to the story you were telling Phoenix, about the latest bad first date you'd been on. It appeared to be a regular thing with you. A string of first dates where you knew before you'd even ordered the entrées that they wouldn't be the right guy for you. And you always had valid reasons, at least in Bob's opinion.

"He told me he doesn't like sunsets." You groaned. "Like, who doesn't like sunsets?"

Bob personally loved sunsets.

Phoenix frowned at you. "Did he give a reason why?"

Bob imagined that Phoenix was feeling a little guilty about the whole thing. After all, she was the one who'd set you up with this guy. But he was thankful for it. He didn't know what he'd do with himself when you finally managed to find the right guy and it wasn't him.

"Something about the day ending and having a mindset about being on the grind I think, I don't know." You sighed, pausing your finger's movement against the back of Bob's hand for a moment before carrying on. He almost had a heart attack when you pressed your cheek into his shoulder and started leaning against him as well.

"Sorry it didn't work out. I can find you another guy maybe, umm..." Phoenix trailed off with a thoughtful hum.

But you waved her off. "No, it's okay. I think I'm done with blind dates for now."

Bob's head snapped towards you. Oh?

"If you're sure." Phoenix started to rise from the table, pressing her hands into the wooded surface. "I think I'm gonna call it a night. See you two tomorrow."

"Goodnight, see you tomorrow." You smiled at her, nudging Bob with your elbow when he stayed silent.

He flinched away from you. "Ow! What? Oh. Yeah, goodnight."

Phoenix's eyes flicked between the two of you, an amused huff leaving her mouth before she gave you both a mock salute and left the bar.

There was a silence between the two of you for a moment as you relaxed against Bob's shoulder a little more.

"What about you? Ready to call it a night?" You asked, turning to rest your chin on his bicep so you could look up at his face.

He glanced at you briefly, turning away again when he realised how close your faces were in that position and cleared his throat. "No, I'm good here for a little longer. If you are?"

You nodded and sat up, extracting yourself from his touch completely. Bob almost sobbed at the loss of contact.

"Yeah, I'm good." You paused to take him in, how he wasn't looking directly at you. He did that sometimes. You always figured he was just a little awkward about eye contact. Which was a shame considering his eyes were your favourite shade of blue.

Bob did flicker his eyes towards you then, wondering why you were staring at him silently. "Are you okay?"

You shrugged. "I kinda wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah?" He turned to face you properly, knees angled towards you to show that you had his full attention. "What about?"

You looked at him for a few seconds too long, enough to make him anxious and you think that maybe you'd given something away with your eyes. "You know how when we met we just clicked?"

Bob was surprised at that question. But he knew exactly what you meant. So he nodded. "Yeah."

You scrunched your nose and looked away from him for a second. "Well, I'm not clicking with any of these guys I'm going on blind dates with."

He knew that, you’d said as much. So he really didn't know where you were going with this. "Okay...”

"I just wish it was as easy as it was with you. Like we just work together so perfectly, I don't even feel like I'm trying with you."

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking sideways at you. "Uh-"

Your eyes widened and you were quick to clarify, hands held up in apology. "And not like I don't put any effort into it with you but just like I don't feel as if I'm constantly trying to make it work, y'know?"

He nodded again. "Sure."

You sighed frustratedly. "Do you get what I'm trying to say here, Bob?"

"Not really." He shook his head and gave a weak, apologetic smile.

You chuckled. "I'm trying to say that I've never clicked with a guy like I have with you."

"Right." He straightened up.

"But we're just friends." You said slowly.

He hesitated. "Mhm."

You squinted at him. "To cut it short I'm trying to say that I think I'm in love with you."

Bob could have fallen out of his seat.

"Oh!"

Now, that caught him really off guard.

"Well, I'm trying to figure out my feelings for you. Because they're certainly more than friendly!" You laughed quietly. "Which isn't really fair. To me or to you. But it's gotta be done because I'm sick of not clicking with men and being on dates where I'm just constantly thinking of how much easier it would be if I were sat across from you instead."

Bob ignored most of your rambling, fixating on one little statement. "Why's it not fair?"

Your face crumpled momentarily. "It's going to make it awkward for you if I am in fact in love with you. And it's unfair for me because I might be in love with a guy who only views me platonically."

Bob looked at you for a moment, eyes wide and almost pleading, and uttered your name softly.

You frowned. "What?"

He gave you a meaningful look.

"You do view me platonically, right?" You leant backwards. "Right?"

He glanced away from you before looking back, giving a short and sharp shake of his head. No.

The world shook around you.

"But- but you never made a move. I thought that you..." You trailed off into distressed thought.

"Oh, I made moves. Just not very obvious ones apparently." He cleared his throat with a quick cough, scrunching his face momentarily in embarrassment.

"Why did you never just say?"

"I guessed that you weren't interested since you never seemed to reciprocate my- my moves." He scratched at the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed at the thought of his moves.

"But I'm all over you!" You exclaimed. "I'm so touchy!"

He froze and turned to you stiffly. "I thought you were just like that. With everyone!"

"Have you ever seen me touch another human being half as much as I touch you?" You said monotonously.

"Well..." He thought about it. He hadn't. You gave hugs, sure. But you certainly didn't stand with your head resting on anyone's shoulder, arms wrapped around their bicep like you did with him. You didn't sit next to anyone, legs resting over their thighs, like you did with him. You definitely didn't trace patterns on the back of anyone's hand like you had been with him earlier.

You let him think about it for a few moments before interrupting his thoughts. "You didn't answer my question. Why didn't you just say?"

Bob looked deep into your eyes, recognising the look of regret he could feel within himself. "By the time I had the courage to... the friendship was already solidified. And I thought it would ruin it."

"Oh, Bob." You smiled widely at him. "You should've said something. I had a huge crush on you when we first met."

Have a huge crush. Have.

He perked up slightly. "You did?"

No. Do.

"Yeah! I buried it after a while because I figured you weren't interested. And now I'm realising that I'm probably in love with you anyway." You found it almost funny how the two of you seemed to be in the exact same situation and yet had no idea how the other was feeling.

He decided to be honest. "It would certainly brighten my day if you were."

You had a thought suddenly. "Walk me home?"

Bob felt a sense of whiplash from the rapid change in topic. But didn't question it. "O-okay."

You grinned at him and motioned for him to get up, following him out of the booth and grabbing his hand once you were stood next to him. Not having to worry about closing out a tab with Penny since you'd been paying for drinks each time you ordered, you didn't hesitate in dragging him behind you out the back door of the Hard Deck and onto the beach.

You took a glimpse at Bob next to you, finding him already watching you. "Figured we could do the moonlit beach walk on the way back to my place."

He just nodded, not missing the way you were still grasping onto his hand as the two of you started walking in the direction of your home. The moonlight beach walk wasn't an uncommon occurrence between the two of you. You'd done it countless times before, in fact. It was just a nice thing to do that happened to involve some nice views that you both enjoyed. It just felt different this time, Bob thought to himself.

He had to ask. "Your last blind date, did he really not like sunsets?"

You looked at him, delighted by the seemingly random question. "Yeah. How off-putting is that?!"

"Very." Bob mumbled. "Y'know... I really like sunsets."

Ah, you saw what he was getting at.

"I know." You chirped. "I'll never forget the sunset on the day we met when you explained that the reason they're so colourful is because of the way the light scatters through the atmosphere. It was very purple that night."

His eyebrows shot up. He'd forgotten he'd told you that. But you were right. It had been very purple. He'd watched you take about thirty photographs of the sky. And knew then that he was in trouble.

The rest of the walk back to your place was quiet, a few passing comments made between the two of you as you pointed out a cute dog and Bob showed you where new flowers were beginning to blossom on a tree you regularly saw. Your hands stayed intertwined the whole time, swinging gently between your bodies.

It was easy. Just how it should be.

Silence shrouded the two of you as you approached your front door, wondering what was supposed to come next. Bob was still hung up on your sudden abandonment of your conversation back at the Hard Deck as you stopped at your door. Why had you dropped it?

The question escaped him as you suddenly tugged him a lot closer, so your chests almost touched, and lowered your voice.

"Come inside."

It wasn't proposed as a question, or even a request, but as more of a statement. Like you were telling him that he should follow you into your home to find out what happens next. Because of this, Bob could only reply with one thing.

"Okay."

There was no turning back now.

You beamed at him and rushed to unlock your door, flicking on a light switch once it was open and ushering him in behind you. Bob had been to your place countless times before, even crashed on your couch once or twice after nights there had run a little too long, but this time felt different. Just like the walk on the beach had.

He supposed it was because of what the two of you confessed earlier that night. But he still couldn't shake the thoughts about the fact that the conversation hadn't carried on to a point where he knew what was going to happen next between the two of you. Bob wanted answers. And he guessed that they were hidden in the depths of your home.

You guided him to your kitchen, offered him a drink which he politely declined, and stopped suddenly in the middle of the room to turn on your heel and look at him.

"Do you know why I asked you back here?"

He stilled a few paces in front of you. "Honestly? No."

You smiled at that. "Because I decided that I am."

Bob was even more confused. "Am what?"

You barked out a laugh like you suddenly realised you'd left out half of your sentence and that what you'd said had made no coherent sense. "In love with you. Absolutely head over heels. One hundred per cent.”

He said nothing in reply, sensing that you had more you wanted to say. He was right.

"And I wanted to be able to explore that possibility for us without prying eyes. In the privacy of my home." You huffed, slightly frustrated. Bob took a single step towards you. "I don't- I don't know how to say this."

He closed the gap, hands resting on your arms to reassure you. You'd never struggled to tell him anything and he certainly didn't want that to start now. "It's me. You can say anything to me. You know that. It's okay."

When you met his gaze again, your eyes were slightly glassy with tears. But you blinked them away. They were angry tears at yourself for taking this long to get to this point with him. It should've happened so much sooner.

Your eyes flickered to his lips. Bob knew what that meant, he was feeling it himself, but wanted you to say it.

Letting out a slightly shaky laugh, you composed yourself. "You might need to let me spiral and talk for a minute."

He smiled softly, surprised he wasn't doing his own spiralling and talking in this situation. "That's okay."

You nodded and sighed. "Okay, so. I don't want things to change between us. Well, I do. But, like, not everything. I still want us to be us. I still want to be able to tell you everything and have easy conversations and just go for walks on the beach and talk about meaningless things and have you explain stuff to me that you think I'll find interesting and sit close to each other just because we can not because we have to."

You stopped for breath and Bob felt like he was having to restrain his heart from bursting out of his chest.

"We'll still just be me and you and things will be easy between us. Like they always have been. But now... instead of sleeping on my couch after late nights, you'll- you'll sleep in my bed. And we'll kiss and, god, have a lot of sex I hope."

Bob chuckled at that and you joined him, happy to see that he wasn't freaking out at everything you were saying.

"We'll still be me and you but just... evolved. Right?"

Bob had started the evening knowing he was head over heels in love with you. He couldn't believe the night was ending with that love somehow growing even more, combining with yours to create some force that defied the laws of nature. The room was practically swimming in it, he could feel it prickling at the surface of his skin and taste it on the top of his tongue.

He nodded firmly at you. "Me and you but evolved."

You visibly relaxed under his hands and smiled giddily up at him. "Great, can you kiss me now?"

You didn't have to ask Bob twice.

The kiss started off sweet, almost innocent. A few, slightly open mouthed, pecks as the two of you giggled against each other. It was something new for the two of you. So even thought it felt right, it was still new territory to explore. But it didn't take long for it to take a turn. As soon as you opened your mouth fully to lick gently against Bob's lips, it was like something in him snapped.

An arm snaked around your waist and tugged you flush against him, chest to chest, and his other hand tangled in the back of your hair. His nose crammed into your cheek, his glasses falling slightly askew, as he licked into your mouth hotly with his head angled down to meet you halfway.

Your head whirled with the thought that he was good at this. Bob Floyd was an extraordinarily good kisser. Why hadn't you done this sooner?

You let out soft moans to encourage him despite him not even seeming shy about the idea anymore. In fact, Bob had no sense of restraint left in him. He'd waited so long for this, for you. And now he was lost in the feeling of your skin against his and the sounds you were making in reply to what he was doing. Which is why he let his hands drift across you more, not anchoring his touch to any specific place.

You felt like you were on fire, no time to breathe as breaks for oxygen were mere fractions of a second long. You'd never imagined him being capable of making you feel like this so quickly. Your lower abdomen burning with desire and your panties already practically soaked through. And he hadn't even touched you intimately yet. You could only hope that you were having half the same effect on him.

Bob's hands lowered themselves slowly, tracing along your ribcage, circling your waist, gripping at your hips, before he tentatively let them rest on your ass. You hummed in motivating appreciation and pushed yourself up even more to kiss him impossibly harder. He took that as a good sign, fingers digging into the flesh beneath them and rocking your pelvis towards his. Where you found that he was hard.

A noise rumbled in your chest, leaking out as a high pitched whine directly into his mouth.

Bob pulled away with a slight look of concern in his eyes which now held almost no trace of the blue shade you'd come to adore, pupils blown wide enough to engulf his irises. "Is this too much? We can slow down."

You shook your head, slowing down being the last thing you wanted. "No, I'm just surprised that you're so... handsy. I always thought you were a gentleman."

"Oh." He blushed a deep red, the colour reaching the tips of his ears. "I'm just eager, I guess. We can wait. I mean, I can wait. If it's too much."

You leaned back in closer to him, lips brushing across his. "Don't you think we've waited long enough?"

He did.

Somehow the second round of kissing was even more searing, almost consuming, than the first. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand gripping tightly onto his hair and tugging occasionally. Bob didn't let up squeezing at your ass after he'd realised that the sound you'd made previously was one of pleasure and not pain, rocking your hips into his a couple times more for good measure.

When his lips moved to trail a line of kisses down your jawline and onto your neck, your eyes practically rolled back into your head. This was too good to be true. You were stood in your kitchen, at almost midnight, and Bob was sucking a hickey into your neck. How was this even real?

You realised that if you didn't move soon then the two of you were going to end up fucking on the kitchen floor. And whilst you weren't totally against the idea, you figured you should at least offer him the comfort of a bed for your first time together.

"Bedroom, Floyd. Now." You gasped, grasping his hair to pull him away from your neck. But when you got a good look at him, you almost abandoned the idea completely. His hair was ruffled from where you'd been pulling at it, his glasses sat crookedly on his nose, his face was flushed a rosy pink, his lips were swollen and kiss bitten, and his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them. He was a sight to behold.

You snapped back to reality, fixed his glasses so they sat correctly on his face, clenched your legs together, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt to tug him behind you towards your bedroom. Bob, of course, had no complaints about this and followed you very happily. After watching you kick off your shoes as the both of you scurried down your hallway, he did the same. Not many thoughts were occurring in his brain at that moment, not any clean ones anyway, but one thing was certain as he looked at you: he'd never wanted someone more.

The bedroom door slammed shut behind him and before he had the chance to take in any of his surroundings he was pressed up against it and your lips were on his again, your hands desperately clutching at the bottom of his shirt to untuck it from his pants.

"Why- do- you- always- wear- your- uniform?" The question was asked between fiery kisses. Not that you were complaining. You loved to see him in his uniform. But he always looked so formal.

Bob waited until you were too distracted trying to unbuckle his belt to kiss him so he could get his answer out fully. "You once told me I look handsome in it."

You paused and tilted your head up to look at him. Taking in his open expression, you could tell that he was being honest. "God, I fucking love that you listen to me."

He laughed momentarily before his jaw snapped shut and he swallowed thickly as you began fumbling with his belt buckle again. "Your hands are shaking."

The observation was simple but had you freezing anyway. "Care to help a girl out then?"

Bob could tell that you were getting anxious, nerves suddenly overruling the initial excitement and lust. He could understand. He was currently running on the high of you dragging him to your bedroom. Maybe you also needed something like that to keep you going.

He glanced over your shoulder towards your bed and nodded towards it. "Lie down."

Bob watched as the fire quickly re-ignited in your eyes and you did as you were told, bouncing on the mattress as you sprawled yourself across it. Undoing his belt completely, he took a few steps towards you until he stood between your open legs.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch him eagerly. The mattress dipped as he knelt on it and crawled across it until he was hovering over you.

You hummed quietly, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "Hmm, I like this position."

He leaned in close, as if going to kiss you. "I thought you might."

His voice was low, rumbling deep in his chest. It was a tone you'd only had the privilege of hearing a few times before. During late nights when he was tired and could barely keep his eyes open as you continued to talk his ears off with meaningless nonsense but did so anyway just so he could listen to you talk. When he'd held you close to him during crowded nights at the Hard Deck and spoken directly into your ear so you could hear him over the sounds flooding the place. Moments that were intimate between you both but you'd been too oblivious to see as more than platonic.

It was the voice that Bob Floyd used to flirt with you.

You pulled back, wide eyed, to get a good look at him. "Oh, my god. You have made moves."

His brows scrunch for a moment, a confused laugh bubbling out of him. "Yeah, I said so earlier."

"I know but that voice." You poked his chest accusingly. "It's your flirty, sultry, bedroom voice! You've used it on me before!"

"It's not my-" He paused, thinking about it for a second, and then shrugged. "Oh, yeah. Maybe you're right."

"I like it, it's hot. Do it again." You giggled when he rolled his eyes, reaching your hands up to start unfastening the buttons on his shirt.

"And what would you like me to say?" His voice dipped back down to the low tone and you had to suppress a shiver.

"Anything. I just like hearing you talk." You reached the last button and helped him slide the shirt from his shoulders, revealing a white undershirt that you knew always resided underneath. The brown uniform shirt was discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor.

"How about how I think it's time for you to start removing some clothes? Since my shirt's off and my belt is unbuckled." His raised a finger to trace along the neckline of your t-shirt.

You whined. "Not fair. You're not even showing any skin yet. If I take my shirt off then all I've got is a bra on underneath."

Bob chuckled, low voice lost for a moment. "Is my white t-shirt not the equivalent of your bra?"

You pondered it for a moment. Maybe he was right. "Depends if you like the way my tits look in this bra as much as I like the way your biceps look in that white shirt."

He took a quick glance at his arms which were caging you into the bed, hand planted on either side of your head. "My biceps, huh?"

"A weakness of mine, I admit." You shrugged and sat up, pushing at his chest to give you some room. "Have to stop myself from biting them when I rest my head on your shoulder."

"For the record, I'd totally let you."

With a laugh you took Bob's hands in yours and guided them to the hem of your shirt, giving him a nod of confirmation. "You would now but let's be honest, it would've been a little unusual of me to just suddenly bite you before."

He tried desperately to keep eye contact with you as he pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. "Maybe, but I wouldn't have said a word of complaint."

"I'll remember that for the future." You paused and noticed his frozen stare. "You're allowed to look, y'know?"

He knew but he was holding himself back with the knowledge that he'd probably go feral once he saw you without a shirt on. Just below his eye line he could tell that the bra you were wearing was lacy and pretty much see-through. He took a deep breath before looking properly and let out a very low groan when he saw that your nipples were hard and very visible through the fabric.

Bob's dick twitched in his pants at the sight. He feared he wouldn't last very long once the two of you actually got going.

You leant back on your hands and watched him look over you. It was kind of entertaining and certainly a confidence booster for you. "Like what you see?"

His eyes met yours again. "Shut up. You know I fucking do."

That sent a ripple of heat through you. Despite knowing him for so long, you'd never heard Bob curse. He'd let out the occasional damn at big inconveniences but never anything more than that. You figured it was part of him being such a gentleman and the fact that he loved to point out that his mother raised him right.

"Careful, Floyd. That dirty mouth will get you in trouble." You flattened your back onto the bed again, pulling him down on top of you by a handful of his shirt.

"If by trouble you mean with you underneath me then I'm willing to take that risk." His voice somehow got lower, a raspy edge being added to it. It's like he knew exactly how to break you.

You grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him down to kiss you again, you'd gone too long without feeling his mouth on yours, and you revelled in the grunt he let out against your lips.

This was a whole new side to Bob that you were seeing. And you were loving it. Somehow it was still so easy, the two of you continuing to just bounce off of each other and the sexual chemistry was luckily just naturally there as well. You thought it may have been slightly awkward between you but you'd never felt so confident about sleeping with someone in your life.

Bob realised he should probably check something before the two of you got any further so pulled away momentarily. "Do you have a condom?"

"Oh, yeah! Wait, hang on-" You slid away from him, hanging over the edge of the bed to rifle through a drawer in your nightstand. Producing a small box, you waved it triumphantly at him.

"Hoping those blind dates were going to be successful, huh?" He teased, reaching out to grab your waist to drag you back underneath him. He was relieved you had the box but if you didn't then he knew it wouldn't have stopped him from doing other things to you until you were able to buy some condoms.

Your jaw dropped. "No! Just never underprepared."

"I applaud your readiness. I'm sure if the apocalypse hits then we'll be thankful for your supply of condoms."

"If the apocalypse hits then we'll be tasked with repopulating the Earth and have to have lots of unprotected sex to do so." You bit back playfully, glad to see when his eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the mention of doing it raw. "Oh, you like that thought, huh?"

"You caught me. Guilty." He raised a hand in surrender before gesturing at you. "Now let's get naked so we can have lots of protected sex."

You had to fight back a surge of laughter but let a few giggles escape when you found Bob looking at you with an amused look of his own. You were glad that the two of you were still able to joke and be you even in an intimate moment like this, relieved that it didn't suddenly become serious.

Clothes were discarded and quick kisses were exchanged as the two of you inched closer and closer to where you both really wanted to be. After your bra had been unclasped and thrown into the void with every other item of clothing, and Bob had thoroughly explored your chest with both his hands and mouth, you fell back onto the bed with him on top of you for another round of kissing. It's like the two of you couldn't keep your lips separated for longer than necessary.

His bare chest pressed into yours, a sheen of sweat gliding between you, as he rocked his hips against you, grinding his hard length into your clothed pussy.

If you'd told Bob at the beginning of the evening that this was how his night would end then he would've laughed and told you he didn't believe you. But now that he was here, he couldn't have imagined it any other way. That's what made him realise that enough was enough.

He suddenly broke the kiss and sat up again, kneeling in between your legs. Hooking two fingers into the waistband of your panties, he made eye contact with you. "May I?"

You nodded vigorously.

Bob shook his head. "Words."

You could've orgasmed right there and then. "Yes, you can."

He took that answer and started to slide your panties down your legs slowly, helping you to lift your hips to get them off easier. Once they reached your ankles he plucked them off and cast them aside, planting a quick kiss on your calf before lowering your legs either side of him again.

You reached for the condoms to pass them to him, aware that you were only the one step of removing his underwear away before he'd finally be inside you.

But he pushed your hand aside, choosing instead to slide his palms down your thighs. "In a minute."

"We haven't got forever, y'know. Get on it." You laughed, curious as to what he was doing.

"Gotta get you ready first." He mumbled, pushing your legs apart so he could see better.

Oh? "I can assure you that I'm plenty ready and wet and would like your dick inside me now please."

"So polite." He hummed with a smile on his face. "And I can see how wet you are. Just gotta make sure that you're relaxed enough to take me."

"Somebody's confident about their size, huh?"

He laughed as he shook his head. "Would you rather me not go down on you?"

As much as you were teasing him not to, you very much wanted him to. "Fine, if you insist." You replied with a sigh and an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

Bob almost chuckled, but when he looked up into your eyes again he was met with an angelic vision. You were stretched out on the bed, naked, for him. All for him. He reminded himself to thank the universe at some point. But, before that, he needed to thank you by making you come.

He shuffled back on the bed, moving your legs over his shoulders as he did so, and laid flat on his stomach before you. And got to work.

Bob practically devoured you.

You writhed underneath his grasp, one of his arms thrown across your stomach to keep you in place, as he licked and sucked at you. Your clit throbbed against his tongue as he flicked it from side to side over the sensitive spot. One of your hands flew to tangle in his hair as your legs trembled on either side of his head.

"Oh- oh, my god." You panted, chest heaving with laboured breaths. You looked down at him to see that his glasses had fogged up. You let out a slightly strangled laugh at him as he decided to slide a finger into you at that moment.

"Fuck me. Fuck, fuck, fuck." You gasped and collapsed back onto the pillows.

Bob moaned into you and you let out a cry at the feeling of the vibrations running through you. His finger pumped in and out of you. Slowly at first before he increased the pace and then, once you were somehow even wetter, introduced a second finger.

And with two of his fingers inside of you, bending slightly to hit that sweet spot inside of you, along with his tongue making tight little circles on your clit, it didn't take long for the pressure to build in your lower abdomen and then suddenly explode through you. Your body shook with pleasure, a tidal wave of profanity and primal noises escaping your mouth.

Bob gave you no time to rest though, surging up your body and kissing you again, giving you a taste of yourself which had you moaning into his mouth. When he pulled back again, you smiled. His glasses were still foggy.

"Can you even see through these?" You asked, reaching up to take them off of him. Wiping gently at the lenses with your bedsheets, you awaited an answer.

"Not really. I usually take them off for this kind of thing. But I forgot. In the excitement." He looked away from you, embarrassed. Funny how he could still be shy despite having just eaten you out like no one else had before.

You hummed quietly, taking his face in your hands to direct him to kiss you again after you'd placed his glasses down on your nightstand as you wrapped your legs around the backs of his and bucked your hips up towards him. "Are we going to do something about you now? Because I know you've been hard since we first kissed."

"I was hoping you hadn't noticed how quickly that happened." The low, raspy voice was back and you felt yourself melting a little on the inside.

"Difficult not to when we were practically dry humping in the middle of the kitchen." You trailed a finger down his torso over his, extremely sculpted, abs and stopped at the waistband of his boxers, hooking the tip of your finger inside.

He watched what you were doing. "I did get a little carried away there, granted."

You paused, asking him the silent question of approval to carry on, before slipping your hand into his underwear and grabbing him. His skin was soft and velvety under your palm and, before you even had the chance to start stroking him, his dick twitched in your hand. "Mmm... so sensitive, Bobby."

He whimpered quietly, squeezing his eyes shut.

You reached for the box of condoms again, realising this probably wouldn't last very long if you did much else with your hand, and pulled one foil wrapper out. Quietly uttering his name to get him to open his eyes again, you pushed the condom against Bob's chest. "Put it on."

He didn't reply, didn't need to reply, just followed your instructions and did as he was told. Straightening up again into a kneeling position, he flailed around a little in an attempt to kick his underwear off. You tried not to laugh. When he succeeded, he ripped the packaging open with his teeth and rolled the condom onto himself in one smooth motion. And then he positioned himself over you, notching the tip of his length at your entrance.

He looked down at you for confirmation to go ahead.

You had one last teasing comment. "Your confidence in your size was warranted."

He huffed out a laugh. "I'd be insulted in your lack of confidence if I didn't love you so much."

Warmth bloomed through your chest. It had been implied several times throughout the night but hearing the words come out of his mouth meant so much more. He loved you.

You beamed up at him. "Glad to know that your love for me overrides any possible offence. I'll be using that to my advantage in future. Now please fuck me, I'm going crazy here."

Bob adored the way you were able to flip a conversation so easily. But he was glad you'd said it as he was beginning to experience his own temporary insanity being on the brink of having sex with you but not quite being there just yet.

He pushed into you slowly at first and then all at once, not being able to hold himself back. Once he'd bottomed out he paused for a moment, a choked groan leaving his throat. You whined at the stretch, glad for the previous orgasm prepping you for this.

"Just- just give me a second." Bob warned you, hanging his head as he took deep breaths.

Patiently, you waited.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for him to get a grip of himself as he eased out of you before slamming back in again. You gasped at the sensation. He set a pace, a steady yet almost brutal one. The loud sounds of sex filled the room and you hoped your neighbours were long asleep.

Bob buried his face in your neck, using his elbows to keep himself from smothering you. The noises he let out into your skin were heavenly and you were thankful that they weren't too muffled. You clawed as his back, making scratches that you'd have to apologise profusely for the next day.

"Fuck, harder please. Please harder." You didn't think it was possible for him to go any harder, the way he pounded into you already making the headboard shake, but you begged him to anyway. And somehow he found a way.

Your skin prickled with a burn where he slapped against you, one of his large hands sliding down to grip harshly at the flesh of your ass in order to pull you impossibly closer to him. He continuously hit that sweet spot inside of you, your eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling. The pressure was steadily building in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter with every thrust of Bob’s hips.

You clung onto his shoulders tightly as you plummeted off the edge, your thighs locking in on either side of him to lock him in place. Bob paused his movements for a second, feeling you clench around him as your throat formed a silent scream that came out as a gasp, and only started up again when you relaxed beneath him.

He pulled away from your neck to look down at you, finding a giddy smile on your face. He kissed you, all teeth and tongues, as he pumped into you a few more times before spilling into the condom. And then he collapsed on top of you.

The two of you stayed there for a couple of minutes, both catching your breath.

“I’m glad you had so many failed dates.” Bob whispered into the glistening skin of your chest.

You laughed quietly. “Me too.”

He eased himself up slowly, pulling out of you with a hiss, to dispose of the condom. “Do you think Phoenix purposely set you up on bad dates so you’d admit your feelings for me?”

You thought about it for a second. “Probably. She knows I’ve had a crush on you for forever. And I can’t think of any other good reason that she’d set me up with a sunset hater.”

Bob pulled back the covers on the bed and gestured for you to get in, crawling in beside you. “Can’t believe that guy.”

“I know!” You laughed and turned on your side to look at him. “Wished she’d done it sooner then we could’ve been doing this for a lot longer.”

He joined in on your laughter. “Trust me, we’ll have plenty of time now to be doing this a lot more.”

You smiled. “I’m glad.”

He smiled back. “Me too.”

You scooted closer to each other, limbs tangling together into one big mess, softs words of love exchanged between you as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep in each other’s arms.

A/N: this is the longest thing I think I’ve ever posted as a single thing… hope you enjoyed!

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delta-pavonis · 5 months

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None of us are immune to the Horse Girl Hob AU...

And here I present my humble offerings for @amielot's AU... Soft Hands (formerly titled "Anatomical Revelations") Rating: Explicit || 1k words || complete Horse Girl Hob AU, Centaur Dream, Horse Girl Hob, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism

He awakes from sleeping in the barn to the sound of Hob's voice, but it is let loose in no tone Dream has ever heard from the man before. Hob is far off, perhaps at the treeline on the far side of the pasture, but Dream can still hear the sounds of his… distress?

Deep Seat Rating: Explicit || 3.6k words || complete Horse Girl Hob AU, Centaur Dream, Horse Girl Hob, Masturbation, Anal Fingering, Hand Jobs, Hand Kink, Come Eating, Oral Sex, Anal Fisting, Rutting

"Hob?" Dream stands in his peripheral vision, one hoof pawing the ground, as Hob hangs the last of the laundry on the line running from the corner of the barn to the oak tree out back. "Is it... normal... for humans to masturbate as often as you do?" Hob trips, wobbles, and falls over, grabbing for the clean sheet he had just hung on his way down, which of course just gets ripped from the line and comes with him, wafting on the breeze to cover him as he lands on his ass in the dirt, "What?"

Find the Masterpost for all of Amielot's amazingness (and links to those of us who have contributed) here.

#Dreamling #Horse Girl AU #Horse Girl Hob AU #Hob Gadling #Dream of the Endless #Centaur Dream #Pavonis writes

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sinigangsta-ao3 · 5 months

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“all the time I have — it’s yours” || eremika cabin fic

read on AO3

this is an oldie, but a goodie <3 I'm primarily resharing bc I was bored at work and made this fic banner LOL

(13k words, explicit)

pairing: eremika

tags: canon-compliant; cabin fic; angst and porn; domestic fluff; gratuitous smut

summary:

With every day that passes in their cabin, Mikasa can tell that the fire in Eren's eyes burns a bit brighter. His grip on her waist lingers a bit longer. His nightly retreat to his bedroom becomes tainted with a bit more reluctance to leave, a more acute desire to stay. Mikasa can feel this desire inside her too: it burns low and bubbles in her gut, like simmering water on a stove mere moments from boiling over. And she’s not entirely sure what would be a worse course of action: to temper the pressure and allow this simmering feeling to dissipate to a more manageable level — or to succumb to it, let it wash over her and consume her whole.

In a remote cabin removed from the realities of war, Mikasa and Eren spend the remaining years of Eren’s life together: building a home, learning to love one another — and trying to reconcile the underlying feeling that they’re not supposed to be here.

OR: my humble contribution to all the cabin fics out there, a.k.a. about 13k words of cabin smut with a side of domestic fluff and a dash of angst

#eremika #eremika fic #eremika cabin fic #eremika smut #shameless self promo

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superficialdomina · 1 year

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Devoted

A/N: My humble contribution to @sarahscribbles Big Follower Celebration!

Prompts: Rooftop, rain

Warnings: Smut. 18+; minors DNI. Sub!Loki x Domme!reader; established D/s relationship. P in V. One slap. Loki is a good boy.

WC: 2456

Loki knelt on the rooftop terrace, eyes closed, concentrating. He noted the dull ache that had crept up his back, the pain of the hard surface beneath his shins, the strain on his neck from the weight of his bowed head. He felt the tickle of his long curls as they caressed the side of his face in the gentle breeze, and fought the urge to brush them away. Breathe, he told himself. Concentrate on your breath.

“Don’t move,” you had said, placing a gentle hand on Loki’s lowered head, softly catching his hair in your fingers and giving a gentle tug, the way you might reassure yourself that a rope was secure. And then you had walked away, back behind the glass doors of the covered rooftop.

Don’t move, you had said, and the words crashed through his mind again now. Don’t move.

And he hadn’t.

It was a test. He understood that. And he relished the chance to demonstrate his devotion to you.

The discomfort was challenging, but nothing he couldn’t overcome. You had taught him that. Use it, you had said. Meditate on it. Pain is a delightful, hypnotic force; let it guide you, feed you. So he had.

And in that meditation, he had found himself.

Where once anger would have risen at this feeling of powerlessness, he now felt determination. Where once he may have flushed with humiliation at the mere thought of your command, here on his knees in the cold evening light, instead he felt his body flush with arousal. With pride. With devotion.

You had taught him that, too. Don't you tire of it, pet? You had said. Of feeling nothing but anger? Wouldn't you like to know the fascinating spectrum of emotions that you are capable of?

And he had found it to be true; without the mask of rage and bitterness, he had discovered the freedom and beauty of his emotional range. In the safety of your embrace, there was no need to be afraid of his feelings. Indeed, they could be quite exquisite.

His cock gave a small twitch, but he urged it to still; that was not why he was here.

Instead, he focused on the points of discomfort, each one a reminder of his place in your world. He belonged to you. Every hurt, every pain, was a gift you had given him. You accepted him, they told him. His devotion. His submission. And most powerful of all: through your acceptance, he could accept himself.

In return, he would give you this simple offering; his eternal, unwavering devotion.

With that mantra, the pain receded, replaced by a joyful, empty sensation. His skin tingled, his breath slowed. Yes. The intense, primal arousal of submitting to your will. This.

Rain began to fall. Softly at first, so that he heard the gentle pitter-patter before he felt the first drops. But it quickly grew to a downpour, soaking his clothing, plastering his hair to his face. Endless rivulets streamed over his eyes, nose, mouth. But there was no urge to wipe them away now.

He still did not move. He knew he wouldn't, until you released him. Here, on the dark rooftop, in the falling rain, he would prove his devotion to you.

***

You watched Loki from just inside the glass doors, your pride and affection growing with every moment he remained perfectly still on the hard floor. Rain soaked his clothing, his hair; a puddle had formed around him as water ran off his large frame. You watched as a strong breeze tugged hard at his hair, knowing how it must sting as it whipped across his face.

But he didn't move. He remained frozen in place, kneeling awkwardly on the wet concrete, exactly as you had left him.

For you. Because he belonged to you.

Your body reeled with the heady flush of desire and power at his incredible demonstration. You had never doubted his sexual submission to you; you knew that in the peak of arousal, he loved nothing more than to be dominated by you. For his pleasure to be determined by you.

But this… Was different. This was more than the fleeting pre-orgasmic thrill of relinquishing control.

Devotion.

You smiled, feeling delicious, dominant energy imbue your body with a deep inhale. It's time.

Lustful and power hungry, you walked through the glass doors to the open rooftop.

***

You slowed as you neared him. He must have heard your footsteps approaching, but did not raise his head. “Such a good boy,” you murmured softly, and the slightest clench of his jaw, the merest flutter of his eyelids, told you he had heard you.

The heavy rain soaked you, but you didn't care - you would be dry again momentarily. When you finally reached him, you paused for a moment to admire him one more time. His chest heaved with every inhale, his wet shirt plastered to his sculpted torso, still regally tucked into the slutty waistband of his soaked leather pants. His back remained beautifully straight, hands clasped behind him, his head perfectly bowed. He's been practising, you smiled to yourself.

Finally, you reached out and tapped his shoulder twice, your wordless instruction to raise his head. And at last, he looked up at you, his eyes dark and blown wide. Fuuuck, you thought, realising the depth of his reverie, and you felt yourself brimming over with pride. With love.

"Sweet Prince," you gushed, praise spilling out of you. "You have done so beautifully. So perfectly." You stroked his soaking hair, your eyes never leaving his, as you gently cleared the strands that he had toward for so long from his eyes and face.

"Are you pleased, Goddess?" His voice was low and trance-like.

"So pleased, my darling," you crooned. "So very impressed. So proud." He didn't quite smile, but you watched his features shift, relaxing, peaceful, as he gave a long, slow exhale. Your own breath came ragged in response, desire running hot through your body. You forced yourself to breathe deeply. "Rise," you commanded gently.

He did so slowly, aching muscles stinging as blood rushed back into them, but he made not a sound of complaint. You offered him your arm to steady himself; when he was securely on his feet, you spoke again.

"Take us somewhere warm and dry, pet."

In a moment, the rainy rooftop melted around you, a transitional fog quickly replaced by the dark of Loki's quarters, complete with luscious furnishings and decadent comforts. A fire gently burned on the hearth, casting warmth and light across the room.

"Beautiful," you murmured softly. You knew how much Loki loved to be praised. And he deserves it, you thought, eyes returning to his perfect face. “But, my darling, I am still quite damp.”

“Forgive me, Goddess,” he uttered quickly, the intimate tingle of his seidr passing over you briefly before you were once again perfectly dry, wrapped in a beautiful satin robe of his conjuring. You momentarily relished the sensation of the soft fabric on your otherwise bare skin.

You were about to share your admiration, when you noticed a familiar scent about you; wattleseed and… petitgrain. You quickly ran a hand through your hair, finding it soft and clean.

You gave him a look of utter delight. “Did you wash my hair?”

“Oh… yes, Goddess,” he replied, lowering his eyes and blushing sheepishly.

Desire crashed over you anew, your blood running hot at his small act of servitude. In two steps you were next to him, hands grasping his still-wet shirtfront and pulling him towards you, kissing him hotly. “Dear heart, that was so thoughtful. You are so talented,” you gushed between aggressive kisses, loving the joy that radiated from his face as you praised him.

“I know you like it when I… Take initiative,” he stammered over your assault on his mouth.

You had to stop yourself growling in response. Instead, you gently pushed on his chest, encouraging him backwards with the slightest force; he responded perfectly, yielding to the meagre pressure like a well-trained pony. One step, two, until he found himself tumbling backwards onto his own lush bed.

"You are overdressed, sweet,” you said softly, standing over him, and marvelled at his power as green light flickered around him. His wet clothes vanished, and suddenly his glorious naked body was displayed before you. "Sit up."

He came to a seated position as you slid your body astride him, the satin robe falling open, and your head swam in the glory of his admiration as he devoured your exposed body with his eyes.

“Good boy,” you murmured, twisting your hands in his hair and pulling it back, lifting his chin to expose the soft skin of his long, strong neck. His hands grabbed at your thighs, and you felt his cock swell beneath you as you placed slow, sucking kisses along his sharp jaw, his hips gyrating as he tried to grind against you. “So needy, pet,” you whispered, your lips at his ear, and were delighted by the whine he gave in response. But you weren’t done controlling his body.

“Stay still,” you commanded, and he stopped moving instantly. “Gooood boy,” you praised again, gently prying his hands from your hips and coaxing them behind his back. "Now - keep them there."

You lifted your body slightly, lining up his hard cock with your soaked, waiting entrance.

"Not a sound, sweetheart," you said darkly. "The next words out of your mouth will be those begging for my permission to come." Oh divinity, to have this tremendous, powerful God completely at your mercy. His eyes never left your face as you steadily lowered yourself again, slowly impaling your wet cunt on his Godly cock. He remained perfectly still, perfectly silent.

Perfect.

You began to move, slowly rising and falling, twisting and gyrating, taking your own pleasure from his body. Chasing every delicious pressure that his cock could give you, gliding satin-smooth inside you as you rode him. His eyes flickered briefly to your chest as your bare breasts heaved and bounced in rhythm with your body. A visual he would delight in, you knew. One hand still in his hair, you pulled tightly, knowing he would love it, knowing how hard it was for him to continue his silence.

And yet, he did not make a sound, did not move a muscle. He had a task to perform for you, and as with everything he did for you, he was going to excel at it.

The rain continued to lash at the windows.

"Do you like that, my needy kitten?" You growled at him, not slowing in your movements, your face barely an inch from his. "Do you like the way it feels to have me ride you? Use you?" He remained steadfastly silent, though you could hear his ragged breath through his slightly parted lips.

"Ng-aaa, it feels so good to fuck you, pet," you continue, "so good to pleasure myself on your cock." The hand not twisted in his curls ran softly down his broad chest, catching his smattering of body hair. "Your beautiful, perfect cock."

At your praise, he let out a tiny moan. It was only the smallest whimper, but his eyes widened and he pressed his lips together, waiting apprehensively to see if you had heard him.

Your free hand came up fast, slapping him hard across his razor-sharp jaw, his face jarred by the impact. As he turned back to you, your hand found his neck, fingers wrapping deftly around his throat.

"I said, not a sound, pet," you hissed, pressing your palm into his soft flesh. "Do you understand?" He met your eyes, but did not speak. Momentarily uncertain, you leant into his ear and murmured softly.

"Colour?"

"Green, Domina," he breathed, so quietly you almost missed it. You smiled. Good boy.

You tilted your hips forward, slightly changing the angle at which he entered you, grinding your clit against the root of his huge, hard cock. With total control over the speed and depth of his penetration, you quickly discovered the inevitable path to your own orgasm, finding ultimate bliss at the friction and pressure of his movement inside you, against you. And yet, your eyes on his as you tightened your hold in his hair, the overwhelming lust and physical arousal that came from his following your meaningless commands, all exposed your deepest truth; that no physical stimulation could surpass the bliss, the beauty, the intimacy that was his glorious, perfect, complete submission.

"U-uh," you groaned as you ground your cunt onto him, "that's it, that's it." So still, so silent. So perfectly devoted. "I'm going to ride you until I come, pet. I'm going to fuck your perfect cock until it gives me the release I crave." His breath was fast and messy, his face taut with fierce concentration. "I'm - uugh, Gods, I'm going to ride you…Ng-aaa, until I…come-"

With ferocity, orgasm crashed over you, the intensity flooding your whole body. You felt it flush all the way to your fingertips, still wrapped in his hair, your breath coming in gasps as you pulled each inhale deep into your lungs. Lazily, you pulled his lips to yours, kissing him deeply, and were thrilled that, even now, he would not move to kiss you back.

Barely lifting your mouth from his, you released him. "Move".

The assault from his tongue was immediate, pressing into your mouth like he had never before desired the taste of anything as much as your kiss. His hands, suddenly freed, grabbed needily at your waist, holding you as his hips rocked into you, finally letting go of his self control.

"Speak."

"Goddess," he gasped, his voice hoarse, "please, may I come?"

You gazed at him lovingly, meeting his wide, desperate eyes. "My sweet pet, of course you may."

With a roar, he came, his precious seed erupting into you, his body shuddering violently from the force of his release.

You held him close as he continued to shake, his head pressed into your chest, whispering a stream of sweet praise into his ear.

"My darling," you smiled, "my sweet kitten. What a beautiful gift you have given me tonight." You stroked his hair lovingly, hands tracing patterns of nonsense on his firm, muscular back, waiting patiently as he slowly came down. "Such unwavering devotion you've shown me. I'm so proud of you, my perfect boy…"

Gently, he lifted his head, his eyes filled with a deep conviction as he met yours.

"I belong to you, Goddess," he murmured softly, smiling gently. "I will always belong to you."

"You will always belong to me," you whispered back, taking his beautiful, smiling face in your hands. "Always."

Loki fic tags:

@lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtigger @coldnique @holymultiplefandomsbatman @peaches1958 @chantsdemarins @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @vbecker10 @currish-rosewolfe @muddyorbsblr @so-easy-to-love-me @villainousshakespeare @caffiend-queen @peachyjinx @thomase1 @holdmytesseract @fictive-sl0th @simplyholl @mochie85 @lokischambermaid @cheekyscamp @sarahscribbles @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird

@give-me-a-moose @maple-seed

#loki smut #sub!loki #big follower celebration #sub!loki/female reader #sub!loki/domme!reader

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jessamine-rose · 2 years

Text

˚ ༻✿ Herbarium ✿༺ ˚

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

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

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

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

♡ 10.1k words under the cut ♡

i. dandelion

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

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

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

Your flowers are deprived of that fate.

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

You choose two promising puffs and snip the stems.

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

A twig snaps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have other business in Mondstadt.”

Definitely a foreigner. He has a somber voice.

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

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

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

“Not even to the Anemo Archon?”

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

What difference would it make?

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

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

ii. windwheel aster

The stranger is standing in your meadow.

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of them approach you.

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

One of the pages is torn.

You read it anyway.

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

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

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

Why is he here?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?”

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

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

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

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

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

Well, introductions are long overdue.

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

“No. I just like to own flowers.”

His tresses brush against your cheek.

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

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

“You may call me Capitano,” he replies.

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

iii. cecilia

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

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

No, it actually would.

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

His silence is more appreciated on your bad days.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. If that makes you happy.”

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

“Would you like to visit Snezhnaya?”

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

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

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

So unlike the flowers of Mondstadt.

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

“The honor is mine.”

iv. calla lily

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

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

It sounds like a formal announcement coming from him.

“...I see.”

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

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

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

Would he feel sad about going home, though?

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

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

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

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

Capitano’s hand encloses around your wrist.

Tight. His grip is too tight.

The calla lilies fall to the ground.

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

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

“Could…could you please let go?”

His grip only tightens.

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

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

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

Stop talking.

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

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

Just stop.

You slap his hand away from your face.

“Stop! Get away from me!”

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

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

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

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

Your blood runs cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

How could you have been so naive?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could hurt you if you disobey.

The carriage stops.

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

“______. It is time to leave.”

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

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

You follow him out of the carriage.

v. sweet flowers

Snezhnaya is too cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The carriage stops.

“We have arrived. Get up.”

You are quick to leave the carriage this time.

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

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

He took off his mask.

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

He has a human face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

The first thing you check are the doors.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vi. rose

You eventually develop a new daily routine in Snezhnaya.

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

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

You’ve essentially returned to your old dynamic.

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

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

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

Stupid child.

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

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

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

There are also the whispers.

“Is that��?”

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

“They make an odd couple.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does Snezhnaya live up to your initial impression?”

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

“Is that all?”

Capitano is standing right beside you.

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

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

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

Capitano grabs your arm.

The rose thorns dig into your skin.

What did you do this time?

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

His hand is so cold.

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

He only sighs. The sound echoes within his helmet.

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

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

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

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

His other hand catches your wrist.

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

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

Huh?

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

“Does it hurt?” His voice is softer.

What does his face look like right now?

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

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

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

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

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

vii. mint

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

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

“I see. Good luck.”

What kind of business? At least two weeks?

You stop yourself from asking.

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

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

So much for two weeks of privacy.

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

Stop complaining.

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

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

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

You glance at your desk.

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you miss me?”

He pauses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

You ignore her. Ceres repeats her question.

How did she get assigned to this job?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tartaglia.”

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

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

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

He walked away. You followed him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My lady, can you hear me? Hello?”

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

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

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

“That must be nice.”

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

What is Capitano doing right now?

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

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

Ceres is not satisfied with your brief acknowledgement, unfortunately.

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

What was it, anyway?

“None taken. I don’t know, either.”

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

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

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

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

Then what would happen to you?

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

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

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

You wake up in cold sweat.

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

The first thing you check is your notebook.

Your flowers are all safe.

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

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

viii. dendrobium

“My lady, the Captain has returned!”

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

“My lord!”

So she does know how to be professional.

You remain on the sofa and stare at your book.

Familiar footsteps. The clink of chains against metal.

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

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

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

His glove is cold from the snow.

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

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

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

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

“Sergeant Fames, you are dismissed.”

“Yes, sir!” She stands up and leaves.

Just the two of you again.

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

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

Dendrobium. Three perfect dendrobiums with blood red petals.

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

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

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

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

“I agree.”

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

You look up.

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

It shouldn’t be difficult.

…

Warm. His lips are warm.

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

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

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

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

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

He isn’t angry.

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

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

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

...It doesn’t hurt. Not at all.

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

But will this be enough?

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

Just tolerate it for one night. For your sake.

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

“As you wish.”

✿ ⚘

There are bruises on your hips.

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

How long will these last?

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

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

The bed is warmer with him in it.

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

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

“Zapolyarny Palace does not require my presence today.”

So much for escaping The Morning After.

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

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

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

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

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

You had left your marks on him.

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

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

No, no, no.

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

Could you call it that?

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

Strange. Capitano doesn’t wear that color.

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

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

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

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

“______. What are you doing?”

Capitano’s shadow looms over you.

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

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

ix. whopperflower

It has been colder in Snezhnaya lately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Would that make Capitano your knight in shining armor?

…

That is a horrible analogy. You continue reading.

The room becomes silent.

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

Did he catch them looking at you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

✿ ⚘

“Where have you been?”

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

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

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

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

“And how is that my fault?”

The room spins.

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

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

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

The ink reaches your waist.

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

The walls close in on you. The ink solidifies.

You are trapped.

Your screams are unanswered.

“______? ______.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The Maier son is dead.”

What?

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

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

He is still holding you.

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

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

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

Your sleep is dreamless.

✿ ⚘

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

You focus on your book.

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

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

Just how many people are dead because of you?

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

Your book is confiscated again.

“My—!”

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

His hand is gripping your waist.

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

Your eyes widen.

Has he been…?

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

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hopefully, Capitano returns on time.

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

“Yes.”

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

Has it been that long?

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

“What about you?”

“I have never participated in the festival.”

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

As if Capitano would allow you.

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

“For once, I can agree with you.”

Cold. You feel so cold.

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

What just…

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

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

Ceres? She…

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

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

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

No. Don’t take it.

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

It’s mine!

Ceres stands up and throws your notebook aside.

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

x. windblume

Your prison is too cramped.

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

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

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

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

“And if he finds out?!”

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

There is barely any space inside this room.

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

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

Please don’t hurt me.

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

You hear the sound of receding footsteps. Then silence.

The room is too small.

They will most likely make you suffer through your death.

You are alone.

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

Capitano won’t be here to rescue you.

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

✿ ⚘

The meadow is ruined.

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

Stop.

They ignore you. The meadow decays.

You cover your eyes.

Please, this is all I have left.

Quiet. The meadow is suddenly quiet.

You look up.

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

The sight is absolutely beautiful.

A twig snaps.

You turn around.

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

The screams are what wake you up.

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

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

What is happening?

Another scream.

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

Capitano?

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

A loud crack.

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

The door opens.

“______!”

Warm. So warm.

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

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

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

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

His touch is so light.

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

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

You really can’t see anything beneath his mask.

Your vision blurs.

The tears won’t stop.

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

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

You bury your face into his coat and continue crying.

✿ ⚘

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

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

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

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

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

“Capitano?” You poke his helmet.

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

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

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

The pain in your throat returns.

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

He relents. “Understood.”

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

You have never felt more safe in his grasp.

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

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

The smile on your face is reflected in his mask.

“Let’s go home.”

♡

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

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

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

#capitano #il capitano #yandere capitano #yandere capitano x reader #capitano x reader #the capitano agenda #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #yandere fatui harbingers #tw: yandere #tw: dark #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: death #spicy warning #mdni #fem reader #jessamine-writing

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