Echo5600 - Moka - Tumblr Blog

Girlies and non girlies of the jury,

Pink

under all that armor

In love with his new design

Knitted a moth sweater ✨ bought the pattern for it here!

I keep imagining Jing Yuan and Feixiao fighting over a reader who is trying to play coy, be a little flirty to both without ever committing, getting a rise out of teasing them while never giving them what they really want. I get flustered just imagining the different ways one of them might snap afbshqgvskq

-Honkai-Star-Thirst

Love this, you always provide great thirsty ideas. I'm going to be sandwiched between two generals😽💦💖💖💖

Oh, you are playing with fire, you know? Dare to play with the emotions of the two Xianzhou generals? Pretending to be shy and acting inexperienced in front of them?

cw: yandere, non-con, punishment, forced orgasm, forced kiss

You have a knack for time management - juggling two generals with appointments on the same day. The date with Jing Yuan was in a cat cafe. Together you pet the cute and charming cat and chat happily. Sometimes you two go to an adoption organization and volunteer together. Jing Yuan is really romantic at heart. You two have been dating for half a month… so holding hands is normal, right? He moved closer to you, wanting to interlock with your fingers. You ducked and said you had a sad past (you didn't). You're afraid of contact with men (you're not). You expressed your admiration for him at the same time, your eyes filled with admiration like stars. "If it were you…" You only said the first half of the sentence and stopped without making any promises.

In the afternoon, you have a date with Feixiao. You put on beautiful accessories and changed into another set of clothes. It was a picnic date! Before setting off, you baked some small cakes, brought a box of fruit, and brought sandwiches in a picnic basket. Arriving early is the point (pretend to be considerate and cute). You took the basket and sat on the grass obediently waiting for Feixiao to arrive. So when the general arrived, he saw you placing your legs on the red polka dot patterned picnic mat, waiting for her obediently… It was really heartwarming. She actually wanted to propose to you…but you didn't even agree to confirm the relationship with her. Feixiao shares food with you and shares her new knowledge. You smiled and nodded, occasionally giving some responses. When she wants to kiss you on the cheek, you avoid her and say the seagulls over there are cute.

You wanted to laugh out loud just thinking about how you could tease the feelings of the two Xianzhou generals. They're just too simple…in a romantic relationship, aren't they? It was really a first for them. You almost couldn't help but laugh when Jing Yuan told you that this was his first date in over seven hundred years. But how could it be your first time?

Your plan worked…right?

Ah, but your endless teasing may eventually lead to some emotional outbursts… The one who snaps first may be Jing Yuan. He may look like an angry kitten after you have avoided his advances countless times. And picks you up and kisses you, overstimulating you with his fingers. But none of this is dangerous…

Until the two generals exchanged photos of their "lovers" (as they called themselves, you didn't promise) during a casual chat. They looked at the photo on the screen, which showed the smiling face of the same person. It only took them a few minutes to figure it out - love blinds people, even generals. How dare you tease their love?

There's not even a need to wait, since you've delayed them for so long, punishment is necessary. That night, you agreed to a date with one of them, but rejected the other. With a smug smile, you pushed open the door of the general's mansion.

…Only to find the two of them standing in the living room, chatting leisurely.

A chill ran down your spine, and your lips trembled, but your reason told you that maybe they hadn't noticed yet. You just need better acting skills…

They had no intention of being so gentle with you. The world was spinning, and without even saying anything, you were pushed onto the sheets and your newly bought shorts and underwear were ripped off. The sound of fabric being torn was terrifying. A soft whimper escaped your throat. Fear. "Please- I can explain!! I'm not-" "Shh, don't be afraid." Jing Yuan kissed your lips, and Feixiao's hands grabbed your cheeks, as if she thought about whether to use force. Your cheeks don’t hurt from the tug. "You said it was your first time? Prove it."

A few hours later, you were lying on the bed with your butt lifted up helplessly, tightly closed, but the big, calloused hands parted your buttocks and played with the moist slit inside. That cock is pushed inside you again. Meanly fiddle with the core inside. Your lips were pried open, her tongue was entangled with yours, and her hot breath was sprayed on your face. Her fingers are circling and caressing your areola, occasionally pinching. "Hmm…" The pitiful moans filled your chest, and there was no way to avoid them.

After you're exhausted, they stop. Your screaming apology was caught on tape. The two generals sighed and looked at each other. Why did they suffer from such a heartless person like you?

But, there is no way, they just love you, and the punishment is over. Jing Yuan wiped the bodily fluids off your body, and Feixiao patted your buttocks. One of them is on your left and one on your right. They carefully put their hands on your waist and head and fell asleep with you.

Petition to write more yan star rail!

The trailblazer, who constantly wants to be on your team no matter the battle.

March 7th ,who somehow was able to take pictures of you and has a private albums full of you.

Dan heng , the possessive dragon that gets jealous inside the moment you even look at another character.

Himeko always tries her best to be at the pinnacle if her beauty when you see her.

Welt that becomes obsessed because you always seem so interested in what he has to say .

Pom pom likes you because you call them cute and fuss over them when ever you return to the trailer.

thinking of a yandere silver wolf who can’t keep her eyes off you. she’s the pinnacle of a true stalker yandere, and her eyes and ears are everywhere. It first starts off with an inconspicuous chat message. silver wolf is utterly shameless, direct as ever, messaging from her own personal contact; name in bold and everything. all she sends is an emoji, :bubblegum: with a little picture of who you can only assume is this random person blowing a bubble out of some pink gum. you send a question mark, and you get a link invite to some game. you know how this goes, immediate block. you think nothing of the brief interaction… until you get another message. it’s from the same name, silver wolf, with yet another emoticon :withdraw: of a more menacing self-image that makes it appear like she’s pointing at you through the screen. you can see her typing a message, but block the contact again before you can see the reply. some way, somehow, this “silver wolf” finds every way to keep contacting you. you don’t know how, your phone probably has a million bugs or viruses on it, maybe both. you barely know her, and certainly don’t know how she’s become so infatuated with you. she likes tapping into your devices, and it becomes so bothersome when you’re actually trying to get work done. every time you believe that maybe she’s left you alone, boom, unread message from silver wolf. she’s still a stranger to you, yet she somehow knows so much about you? aside from the apparent stalking (even after you’ve move addresses multiple times) you have no idea how she gathered such a vast amount of your personal information. you’re at your wits end, and truthfully no one has been of any help to you. you’ve gone to various authorities, but no one believes your case is worth looking into because they deem it too difficult to entertain an online-stalking case. so you go off-grid. you get rid of all of your cellular devices, some of them you even take outside and smash with a bat just to get some internal frustrations out. you move for the hundredth time, and get accustomed to living without the help of the more advanced technologies. silver wolf has to admit that you’ve pulled quite the move here, but it’s not checkmate. imagine your complete and utter shock when you see a hologram appear beside you. with a cheeky smile that belongs to the little emoticons that have plagued your nightmares. silver wolf thinks this is the next big step for your guys’ long-distance relationship.

❝ 𝐣𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟐 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 ❞ hsr x reader

old ask + reupload >_o, idrk what context is there to this.. welt thrizt!!1!

☆ NO CUZ I SWEAR i dont see enough posts talking about talking about welt bby beng so tall.. cuz i have welt on my account and i compared him to npc pela and DAMN.... pela is like 5'2-5'4 if i remember and she was like the height of where his stomach was hahhashdasjdsdn!!!!

just seeing how large his hands were from yours, you could only imagine how they'd feel inside, while he could barely even move when 2 of his fingers are inside your hole, it already feels like he's been fucking you with his fingers alone for hours..

like i just know that man would love to just have you on his lap, just seeing how you and your body reacting to his long fingers <33 u did mention how you liked that about him anyway

could be stressed and like balls deep in you, and almost too tired to carry on with the moment till he sees your belly bulge, seeing how deep his dick is inside you aaa!!! his energy is back time to plow u all night hahah1!!!111!

literally fell in love with the way you can even barely wrap your arms around his waist, and the way you need him to bend down so that you can give him a proper kiss!! it's so cute to him!!

would. AND I MEAN HE WILL CARRY YOU BY THE WAIST AND ONTO HIS COCK CUZ THINK ABOUT IT...

Yan!Ayato takes Readers vision / “ “

Hello hello - I had an idea for what it would be like for a Yandere to use their darlings vision against them! This is a somewhat continuation of my previous fic Here !! >

https://at.tumblr.com/obsessed-with-obsessive/trampled-flowers-rebirthed-roses/h3filmdcvx07



TW : abuse, Memory loss, kidnapping, reader uses she / her

Tags : YAN!Ayato, Yandere Ayato x Reader, Genshin impact

 Truly, your attempt at escape, your want to leave, your secret actions, none of it hurt ayato, what did hurt him was the cryo vision you were bestowed in that key moment. If not for thoma’s ever loyal flame melting your ice, he would of lost you, so it was only natural for him to have to take it from you. Even if the gods wanted you two apart, he would desecrate their will if it kept you close.

After you were fished out of the sea, your vision removed and stored away in a locked metal box, which always gave ayato frost burns when he touched it, you were never quite the same. Even when you awoke, you had this dull lack of life in your eyes, as if you had no understanding of why you even existed at all. Ayato couldn’t argue that it made things easier, if anything just to justify in his head that keeping you by his side was the safest option for you, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d ruined something. But, he was nothing if not a determined man, and fixing this was no different.

You felt your memories start to come part in small parts one day, you couldn’t quite place it, but in ayatos presence you felt your purpose come back, whenever he would enter the room, it was like a fog cleared in your mind. Ever since you awoke here, you were rather indifferent on your situation, the guards warned you often about escaping. Truly, you had no idea what they were on about, liyue? What was that? well, that was until that fateful day with ayato.

Inclining of the nation of contracts would come to you in dreams, you would piece together fragments of memories each day you spent with ayato, all the while he was loving the new found attention he was receiving. This was a perfect symbiotic relationship for you both, until one day something clicked in your head.

“Ayato?”

“Yes dear?” he responded without missing a beat, head still deep in his latest report. You paused, “I’d like to leave, i don’t know where this place is, but I feel that I belong to a nation named liyue.”

He froze, which only confused you further. it was silent for a moment, before he let out a sad sigh and stood up, letting out a dark chuckle. “What was it this time? Did you catch a glimpse of it?” he mused. Glimpse of what? the confusion struck you, this was until he opened his jacket, unclipping something from his belt, and apon seeing it, the rush of memories, joy, fear, love, hatred, purpose, it almost knocked you over.

“M-my.. my vision.. you, you took it that day, you took it then. You were-“

“Yes yes, god as much as i love you, this conversation truly only gets more tiresome everytime we have it, what are we on now? 8? 9?” he interrupted, calling for his guards while you were sat to take in what was happening to you. How many times has he ripped away your vision, only to give it back to you in small doses, to have just enough of you, would you remember this when you woke up? Fear overtook you as you were grabbed by his guards, as they began escorting you out, and you let out a cry “Wait! i’m sorry! please! please don’t take it away again!” you sobbed, everytime your vision was ripped from your soul playing back in your mind.

Ayato smiled, a soft sympathetic smile, though you could tell the sympathy was not for you. “Don’t you worry love, I will find the perfect distance and exposure for us” He smiled “Until then, be patient.”

When you awoke you were confused, where were you? dressed in a silk kimono, the world dull and foggy, you looked around confused as to how or where you are. This was until a knock at the door, and swift step from a tall man with cool hair knocked you out of your confusion. “Hello love” he said with a soft smile, as if he’d said it thousands of times before. despite feeling as though you’d never met the figure in front of you, your hair stood on end and something in you, told you to run.

/// NOT BETA READ , written on mobile while drunk as fuck :)

"Aren't You Supposed To Hate Me?" (Yandere Modern!Il Dottore/Reader)

CW: mild yandere

the real a/n: if you see me putting too many sylvia plath references, no– no you did not. Also, webttore rights. I promise he's not that bad bakery anon pls don't kill me-. ALSO LOGO'S MADE BY ESTHER ANON!!!

Mother of Klee, Alice’s note: When your bakery opens, can you make some Eton mess? What? “That’s not on the menu…?” Well, you should add it! My darling Klee looks adorable eating strawberries! Oh, but you're not leaving Teyvat Pro, right?

Yandere! 1k Idol Match-up Event

---------

According to what people have said about you, you exude calmness. And that it’s a strength. That your soothing and somewhat “motherly” presence puts you one step forward more than most people. But why isn’t your composure congruent with the frantic screaming inside of you that begged this lunatic to quit clutching your baking supplies?

Damn, this isn't the time to NOT be assertive, assistant (Y/n). Pull yourself together.

"Please stop. You're strangling it."

"We all die, (Y/n). The sooner you internalize that, the better."

The man in front of you is none other than your boss: "Il Dottore", the man behind the idol group ADDICKTZ's creative decisions. You have been given the responsibility of maintaining order among the original 4 ADDICKTZ members while he deals with the second batch after he chose you out of the other 22 interviewees. 

"Sir, we're just baking. Please use a proper measuring cup. Aren’t you supposed to be a doctor–"

"Master. Not sir. I suggest you speak to me in a more respectful tone, Assistant (Y/n). The mere fact of your utility does not make you indestructible."

"I understand that very well, sir– Master, but please put the dough down. I cannot allow you to do the frosting at this rate."

Dang Akademiyan scholars and their honorifics.

Zandik huffed, unsatisfied, before leaning back on his chair. 

"Mind you, I'm a licensed surgeon." He boasted snarkily. "I'd certainly outmatch you when it comes to steady hands, assistant."

"Well– shame that a medical degree does not automatically mean you'd be good at art, then."

"(Y/n), did I hire an imbicile? Answer me, who exactly are you working for?"

"You, Master Zandik." 

"And my occupation?"

" ADDICKTZ’s Creative Director–"

Zandik smugly raised an eyebrow.

"... I admit defeat."

ADDICKTZ values both of your artistic inputs. Even after work hours, you've done what you can to support DCKZ. You helped Diluc choose a haiku to confess his emotions not long ago, and more recently, you aided Zhongli to find inspiration in contemporary poetry for his lyrics. Sir Zandik, on the other hand, would help the group's plans progress from simple masquerades to a magnificent mashup of VISUAL Kei and distinctive pop elements with unbuckled bones facing the front view just tasteful enough to adhere to the unit's usual aesthetics.

Of course, these tasks are obviously trivial in comparison to what your "real work" entailed, and the CEO would split hairs if you joked about retiring. The doctor is no different; in fact, he is the most guilty of this dependence. Normally, superiors wouldn't break into their staff members' closed bakery at 2 in the morning on a Saturday, but Il Dottore has a few loose screws.

Partly, it's your fault too because Zandik has a crush on you.

That's not your ego talking– he admitted it three days ago. Maybe you would've accepted that confession if he didn't utter another word, you did hear Sohrah and the other staff members mention that he's some eye candy. The nose, the eye pits, the full set of pearly white teeth– those mean nothing when the person is Zandik. His personality is as foul as the things Ayato bought in the ADDICKTZ's hotpot game. You’re never crossing the water for an obvious red flag.

Following his direct confession, he went on to enumerate all of your faults in a psychopathic and alphabetical order. As to add more salt into the wound, Zandik brought out printed pictures and pointed at all the blemishes on your face that needed fixing before tossing a plastic surgeon's business card at you.  What an absolute jerk. Not the most romantic confession out there, but he did ask you out, right?

WRONG.

After his long spiel about being burdened by unnecessary dependence on you, he gave you an incentive to "look more unattractive during work hours" with a pay raise. 

So, Herr Doktor. So, Herr Enemy. Yet, you can't loathe Zandik when he's THAT honest about his avid repulsed fascination. The man is mad, but being mad doesn’t make him stupid. He wants the exact opposite of the likable behavior reinforcement theory coming from you. Zandik would sooner receive the loving embrace of an iron maiden than be in a rendezvous. He wholeheartedly believes that love is an illusion of a Greek necessity– whatever that meant. 

You were ready to argue when he pulled out a contract that Zhongli had revised for added credence. As self-preservation reared its not noble but necessary head, your anger left you. His proposed numbers were bafflingly astronomical that you might just quit your job after the first pay…

The moon has nothing to be sad about once it witnesses your dreams bear fruit. Zandik knows that as well, that's why he visited your little bakery before its opening day, demanding that you make him any type of pastries. Unfortunately, you're the type who would adjust your schedule for others and not the other way around.

Zandik wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeves. "Mind if I strip?"

"E-Excuse me?" You chuckled nervously. "Strip your apron, right?"

"Hair extensions, assistant." He clicked his tongue, amused. "With some common sense, you would’ve discovered that they get in the way and that these two long strands are artificial. Clearly, you lack some degree of rigor expected for an assistant."

Should’ve expected as much. This is the same man who cut off Childe's hair because he's "so damn tired seeing everyone in this forsaken group have the same fucking rat tail." You're pretty sure the only person who thought it was mildly amusing was Dainsleif.

Still… Last time, he told you those two strands were part of his hair. Zandik is not the type who would pettily lie for a joke. He's as straightforward as CEO Alhaitham– for better or for worse. Maybe he has a twin brother or something… 

No, that’s just inconceivable.

Zandik watched in amusement as your forehead creased. 

"You should've worded that differently… Doesn’t matter. Is there a flavor you’d like? Chocolates or...?"

He answered immediately. “Strawberries. Saw Alice ate some with her daughter last night.”

“Definitely it's not because it's your favorite, I’m aware,” you mused sarcastically. “Since you’re not actually into strawberries, might I suggest chocolate?”

Zandik glared. “Why?”

You batted your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, doctor, don’t you know chocolates have the love drug? As Langston Hughes would say “Have you dug the spill of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims, on this sepia thrill–”."

“Debunked. It’s laughable that you would insinuate such an incorrect notion.” Zandik scoffed loudly. “Chocolates don’t directly pass phenylethylamine to our nervous system, you’re more likely to excrete these pathetic sweets off your a–” 

Never been a romantic. Dottore somehow loves to make it a point to remind you of that foul personality trait of his in every conversation.

“Alright, that’s enough. It’ll be strawberry flavored.” You sighed as you placed the tray inside the oven. “Might I say, you’re acting rather… cocky, for a lack of a better term, with how I should handle my work.” 

“In my many years of living, I’ve learned that arrogance is a side-effect of truth and intelligence.”

“Yes, but your methods of holding that dough is quite barbaric. Please let it go.”

“Tsk.”

Dead hands, dead stringencies– Zandik simply lacks the talent for baking due to his rigidity. He dropped the dough and you smirked for a second, relieved. You secretly have a competitive side and you'd hate to admit that you're scared he might just beat you at your own game because of the frostings.  

“Master Zandik, please just sit down. There are empty chairs at empty tables–”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his legs on your table. You tried not to scream at him about hygiene and barely succeeded. “Friends are all dead and gone– I know. Do not think you can reference Les Miserables without me knowing, baker.”

You shook your head as you set the timer. While you were preoccupied, it seemed as if the doctor just couldn’t sit still.

“Hmph, this is the only thing of interest I’ve found in your precious little bakery thus far.”

You turned to look at him.

Zandik paused in front of the small wall of photographs you had on display. A smile crept on your face as you remembered how proud you were of organizing the photos of your friends and family into a heart-shaped mosaic. There is a tiny square space in the middle and he correctly inferred that will be the center will be used to display a photo of the bakery's opening day. Be that as it may, his attention lay elsewhere.

"You had a violent streak, didn't you?"

"... Pardon?"

"You were the "problem child", that's my assessment," Zandik smirked, detaching a photograph from your wall, which surprised you since you've had trouble easing them free. 

He specifically picked the photo you took during kindergarten with your grandma. 

"You had scraped knees and elbows but you don't have that stereotypical dumb boyish smile. You seem to have quite a pronounced frown. Would I be wrong to assume you weren't well-liked in your school–"

“Put it back.” While you do generally dislike being put under a spotlight, the cause of your harsh delivery stems from his unpleasant phrasings.

Zandik pretended not to hear you, "–I'm not teasing you. I would know this because I had a photo similar to this one."

For a moment, you saw a flicker of melancholic humanity in your otherwise monstrously rigid employer. You thought that vulnerable display would be brief, but the hollow chuckle that echoed proved that this event will mark a milestone in your "work" relationship.

Master Zandik is opening up to you.

"Unlike this cute and happy memento, I don't have a grandmother who would take a picture with me. I’ve lost them all in the fire." He muttered, his voice low and his eyes squinting. "Hence the reason why I squandered most of my hours burying my nose in textbook after textbook. Pantalone and I had to prove ourselves worthy of living a life outside the orphanage. But this picture…"

Your boss grumbled. "This picture looks awfully similar to the only childhood picture I have taken. A large frown, beat-up uniform– a rage that I can relate to. I understand your child self all too well. Too well, in fact, that I feel the urge to burn this photograph like what I’ve done with mine."

He traced his thumb around your young self's image, shockingly intimate.

You blinked incessantly, trying to process all the information that he told you. First, your boss has no family left. Second, he’s an orphan raised alongside sir Pantalone. Third, he burned the only picture he had when he was a kid. You would pinch yourself but this conversation is jaggedly real. 

As sensitive as this topic may be, your skepticism slips out as easily as breathing. "You burned your only childhood photo?"

Zandik ruminated. 

"Curious as to what I would've looked like? You don’t seem to find my decision very agreeable."

"Who would?" You didn't mean to whine, but the tone of your voice made you sound like complaining. "What possessed you to do that?! Now no one would know what you looked like, not even yourse–"

"I didn't look too different as to who I am now," Zandik answered, his usual confidence coming back. "Only back then, shades of purple bruises would overlap my face, arms, legs, and stomach. If I loathed my natural features I would've done something drastic to tweak my appearance."

"Of course, you would, hair surgeon." You jokingly muttered Childe's best Dottore insult.

"What was that?"

For the sake of the hair Ajax is trying to grow out, you need to change the subject, fast.

"Master Zandik, I have to ask– aren’t you supposed to hate me? Pray tell, what are you doing here then?”

It’s been bothering you since he walked in. If he wants his “crush” for you to disappear, then why the hell is he spending more time with you?

Surprisingly, Zandik was also stunned by your question. His eyes went wide, perplexed.

“... What are you talking about?”

“You know what I meant.” You deadpanned. “The contract, what else?”

“Contract?” He squinted. “What contract? Is it a contract revised by Zhongli?”

“An astute guess.” You mocked his tone. “Yes, it is. Perhaps we’ve handled so many workloads the past month because of Sir Alberich’s eye-plucking shenanigans that’s why you forgot. To put it simply, you ordered me to act less attractive in exchange for a pay raise.”

“What?”

He looked at you incredulously, as if you were joking.

“Is this some kind of twisted joke?” Zandik huffed. “I would do no such thing. That’s...”

His demeanor shifted once, then twice. After a moment of silence, he nodded.

“Forgive me, you’re right. I did propose that contract, haven’t I?”

“Yes, Master.”

“And I also confessed my affection for you as well?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Pity.” He muttered, his tone grieving. “There should be no other person who can understand me more than I do.” 

Zandik glared. “But why on earth is He trying to sabotage us.”

He?

“What are you talking about?”

Zandik gritted his teeth and smiled. “No matter. There’s no need for concern, darling.”

…

Did Master Zandik always have shark-like teeth?

He reached out and ruffled your hair slightly, but there is an ominous aura that lingered in his expression. It was akin to self-loathing, but not quite. Zandik pulled his hand back slowly, clenching it into a fist as he walked away.

You will never understand what he was talking about. After all, “Zandik” failed to mention the most important aspect of that photograph.

He had no parents, aunts, uncles, cousins… But the outcast did stand next to someone in that single childhood photo he had.

And that person was the picture-perfect imitation of himself, the perfect “sibling”.

Il Dottore laughed.

Now, if he could just throw him in the fire too…

Ansytea: Thank you so much for joining the match-up event Bakery Anon! Please don't chop, cook, and serve me to faceless!ayato–

sometimes i wonder what my cat named me

i don’t mean to be political, but what if everyone had basic human rights

how the turns have tabled

Quality time between the Sumeru bois:D

Never Let Me Go

He didn't leave me alone. Neuvi demanded I finish this story, so here we go.

Sequel to : Love Me Tender, Love Me True, Tell Me You Are Mine

Warnings: Yandere Content, Dark themes, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual themes, not smut (sorry),Not Fluff, Uncomfortable themes, not a portrayal of Stockholm Syndrome, but can be interperetted that way, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

The sky had an odd look to it, decidedly foreign in comparison to how storms normally looked in Fontaine. Thick bulbous clouds hung heavily in the skies, stifling the air around you as they drifted above rolling across the heavens like waves. Blacks and grays, mixed with a hint of navy and what you swore was ocher swirled above you, mixing together in what you could only describe as a volatile dance. The motion of the colors was the only movement the clouds had. They had come from nowhere, as clouds often liked to do in Fontaine, but these had a lingering quality. Despite the strong winds that raked their way across the steadily diminishing landscape, the clouds above remained fixed to their place in the sky. Holding everything below them fast as the rising water steadily swallowed all of Fontaine.

You stood on your perch near the peak of one of the taller mountains, braving the torrential weather as you tried your best to see anything that looked familiar. Even as the cold rain fell in sheets around you, the wind whipping against your skin, making it icy to the touch, you held firm. You ignored the cold and the weather, pushing yourself even higher as you tried to see more. The only thing that stopped you from going much further were the small hands of your keepers as they attempted to pull you back. They pleaded with you to return to the cabin they had brought you to. They told you that the weather was too much for you. There were mentions of you becoming sick should you stay out in it for too long. They begged and pleaded with you to come back, yet you silently refused. Your eyes remained ever fixed on the dimming lights of what you thought was the opera house, though it was truly impossible to tell from this distance. By now most of the landmarks that had been a part of your daily life were gone. Washed away or engulfed by the turbulent sea. Only black churning water remained. It lapped at the rock cliffs below you, climbing higher with every second. There had been no sign of danger. No warning. Only torrential rain and rapidly rising seas which caught nearly everyone unawares. To the horror of all, the prophecy had finally come. You tried not to dwell on it as best you could. Dwelling would feed the panic that was rising as fast as the water was around you. Panicking, wouldn’t do anyone, least of all you any good. Instead, you attempted to focus your concerns elsewhere. You fixated on the lights in the distance, silently praying, hoping, yearning for even the faintest fleck of blue or white to appear amongst the blacks and grays that surrounded you. You told yourself it would come. It had to come. Despite the uncertainty of your present, there was one thing you knew would always remain true; Neuvillette wouldn’t fail you. He wouldn’t abandon you. Not now, not when you needed him the most. 

It was an odd sensation to want him now. A delicious irony really. After months of silently loathing him to the point that you had wished he would vanish, he was now the only thing you wanted. You would later blame it on a combination of both the situation and your very real fear, but for now, you held firm in your belief that Neuvillette was the only person who could make this better. Surely he could calm the raging skies and the climbing seas like he did the court. A stamp of his cane or a stern word would send the horrors that surrounded you away. Fontaine would come to order again. Then you wouldn’t have to face the horrible fate that was inching ever closer with what felt like every breath. You would be safe. Neuvillette would keep you safe. That had been his one promise to you when he had taken you away. He would do everything in his power to protect you. That was his reasoning for tucking you away from a world that wished you harm. Now, as you found yourself adrift in that same world, you wished for nothing more than to be within the safety of his apartment again. The thought of the cold stone walls that had been the bane of your existence for nearly a year, brought you minimal comfort. They had upheld Neuvillette’s promise to you. They had, like him, kept you from harm. How you silently wished to be within their confines once again. How you yearned for Neuvillette to appear before you. Yet when you called his name into the howling wind, hoping for any kind of sign, only the echo of the rushing air as it whipped past answered. The skies above the opera house remained as dark as when you had first laid eyes on them. Fittingly, your captor was nowhere to be found. 

Neuvillette had been scarce in recent weeks. His work or rather the work he was required to do to keep the nation running, had kept him away. Through the grapevine of the house, you had been able to learn that there had been a crisis he’d been summoned to deal with. A matter so great, so important, that he had been forced to abandon his routine concerning you so that he might focus on it. The afternoons he had spent by your side were replaced with Neuvillette locking himself away in his office for hours, even days at a time. The only time he left was to either attend court or make an odd trip home to rest. Otherwise, you were generally alone. Your only companions were your little wardens. They kept you occupied during the day, nothing really changed in that regard. The nights though, the evenings that had been spent filled with awkward dinners and one sided conversations became hauntingly silent. In the time that was supposed to be yours and Neuvillette’s, your wardens stuck to their well practiced schedule. The clocks in the house would strike 6 and suddenly you found yourself utterly alone. You were never told whether he was coming or not. It had become a waiting game of sorts. One you quickly grew tired of playing. You’d had half a mind to give him an earful for this new tortuous delight. It was a level of cruelty that seemed out of place for him. You had made it a point to raise the issue to him, but when you next laid eyes on him, you thought better of it. His normally kind features held a strange tension to them. His jaw was almost always tightly set, his teeth appearing to grind against one another as his mind held his thoughts far away from you. His distraction was so profound that he didn’t notice you were there. Even after you made what you felt was a ruckus, he didn’t look at you. Not once. His eyes remained pinned to one piece of paper or another, his dark eyebrows furrowed, knitting and fighting against one another as he read page after page of reports. 

After that, you viewed his lack of presence as a welcome thing. Let him be completely distracted. Let his feelings for you be the furthest thing from his mind. You could sleep soundly knowing those clammy hands of his wouldn’t haunt you in the night. The peace of your morning levee had been restored as he was not there to watch you wash and dress. The need for frills and formality were dropped in a heartbeat. The clothing he preferred that you wear was somewhat simplified to be more comfortable. You dropped the unnecessary layers in favor of things that were easier to get on and off on your own. The dining room he insisted you use, was instantly abandoned. Solo breakfasts out in your garden, weather permitting, became the norm. Luncheon was officially moved to either the conservatory or one of the corner rooms that overlooked the surrounding area so that you could enjoy the view. Dinner, oh the tedious ritual that was dinner, saw the most drastic change of all. The oneness of it was replaced with quiet evenings spent in solitude, the roaring fire in your bedroom filling the silence, while one of your favorite books kept you company. It was the happiest you had been since he had first brought you here. You could almost imagine that Neuvillette didn’t exist at all. The fantasy of being alone in such grande circumstances was a delicious thing. In place of dealing with him, your afternoons were spent flitting from imaginary ball to imaginary ball, conjuring all kinds of suitors and gossip that were left in your wake. A mysterious noble, with an even more mysterious past. How had you come to be in your current position? Was your family secretly well to do? Were you involved in some nefarious affairs? Had you married well only to suffer the loss of your spouse? Even thoughts of a rich benefactor had begun to fill your fantasies. Other days you were a successful adventurer. Blessed with fortune from your extensive travels. The best the adventurer’s guild had. You had conquered all kinds of foes, large and small. Entire nations owed their gratitude and their treasuries to you. Your reward for your efforts were the surroundings of which you were now enjoying.

It was easy to get lost in your fantasies, to indulge in them as time went on. The melusines did little to discourage them. Some of them even played along, enjoying your make believe world almost as much as you did. The only thing that put a dampener on the fun was the infrequent sound of your captor’s shoes echoing off the parquet floors. Neuvillette was a specter in that regard. His heels striking against the wood always pulled you away from your intrigue and adventure. You would sit up just long enough to see his shadow slowly sweep by the drawing room door. Once, it would linger, eventually it would invade the sanctity of your space. You had tried to run from it. His shadow had stalked you through every room in his house. Following you as it passed through hallways and corridors alike. Now, he didn’t even pause. He just kept going, the sound of his shoes fading as his work pulled him further and further away from you. It left you with an odd feeling.

As the days blurred into weeks and the weeks into months you began to feel a certain kind of longing take hold. You didn’t dare admit that you missed him or his attention. Your continued freedom, though limited to the confines of your captor’s home, was a blessing. Short of leaving, you could live how you liked. The regular rules and restrictions had been suspended in the crisis. Once it had been enough to do as you pleased. You had even taken it for granted. Since your rather abrupt capture, the very idea of having your full autonomy returned to you was something that you had striven for. Now that you had it, you found it to be less satisfying than you remembered it to be. The emptiness of your world, the loneliness that came when your wardens left for the night left a bitter taste in your mouth. The time spent alone did not entertain you as it once had. The fantasies you chose to immerse yourself in no longer satisfied you. A weird craving began to form. A desire, a yearning to not only see Neuvillette but to bring him back into your routine. 

In the beginning, you tried to suppress it. You refused to acknowledge that you wanted him in your life. In the war that the two of you had fought against each other, this was the proverbial final battle. Your acceptance of his place in your life would give him all the permission he needed to continue to hold you here. It was the one thing you had sworn never to give. You refused to justify his perverted idea of love by falling for him. You decided your return to the rules and formality was a much needed reminder of why you couldn’t wait to be free. Of why you loathed him so. That was the excuse you told yourself while you dressed for dinner. It was the same one you played through your mind on repeat as you inched ever closer to his office door. He was a beast. A horrible awful man, who had done you wrong. A thief who had stolen you from the world. You tried to remember that as you stopped out his door. You despised him. You hated him. Your general dislike of his need to infantilize you with his rules and restrictions served as the fuel you needed to push against the door of his office. Normally, it was closed or locked. To your surprise, you found it slightly ajar.

“Monsieur?” You pressed further into his gloomy office, finding him hunched over his desk, eyes glued to a stack of papers resting on top of it. You took him in, your previous mantra easily forgotten as your heart sank. The always poised, always perfect, always elegant Chief Justice had been reduced to a haggard shell of his former self. His robes, cravat, and his waist coat had long been abandoned on the sofa. Half laying, half hanging off the furniture’s delicate frame. For the parts that you could see, the only recognizable piece of clothing was the wrinkled dress shirt that served as the base of his ornate attire. It too had been changed. The sleeves of the normally crisp shirt had been rolled up past his elbows, exposing you to something so scandalous as his bare forearms. You stared at the exposed skin of his arms, fixating on it for far too long before you forced your eyes higher. They followed the line of his shirt, coming to a startling halt when they found where the closed portion met the open portion. Without the cravat to hold it in place, the collar of his shirt hung loosely over his collarbones, giving you an ample view of both his exposed neck and upper chest. You couldn’t help but roughly swallow as you blatantly stared. Foolishly, you had never thought of Neuvillette as a man before. For all the time that you had spent as his captive, you had never changed your opinion of him. Like the rest of the population, you considered him more of a thing than a person. The good chief justice. The reliable Iudex. A mainstay, an institution. A long series of titles and responsibilities that helped to support the archon and keep the nation together. Nothing more than that. Things weren’t human. Things didn’t have feelings. Things were inanimate, useful, and disposable. They could be forgotten as quickly as they could be discovered. For many, Neuvillette was easy to forget. He rarely showed himself in public, outside of necessary events and court. He held no close acquaintances or deep personal friendships. He had long remained a mystery to the people he served. So it was perfectly sensible to not relate to him as a person. If nothing else than for your own sanity.

Now as you stood before him, as you realized that he was less a thing and more a person, you felt your sanity rapidly slipping away. Rather blatantly, you allowed yourself the indulgence of tracing your eyes over him, of appreciating his more beautiful features. You admired the way his neck met his shoulders. He had a rather long neck for a man. On anyone else, it would have been a gangly thing. On Neuvillette, it was noble, graceful. Oddly, you wondered what it would feel like to kiss it. To press your lips against the sides, into the hollow of it. He was so pale. Would he flush just from the contact of your lips, or would you have to nip at him to give him a little color?

“Petit” His voice, ever soft, ever gentle, snapped you back to reality. Fuck. You stood there for a moment, wide eyed and blinking as you let your previous thoughts drift away. Based on his curious expression, you had to wonder if you had been caught. Your cheeks flushed at the thought. “Are you alright?” He let out a small laugh. “For a moment, you seemed like you were quite lost in your own thoughts.” Your face only got hotter. How utterly embarrassing. You had half a mind to dash out of his office and never return. “It’s nothing.” He nodded, thankfully letting your gaff go. “I see.” The worn quality of his voice didn’t go unnoticed by you. It lacked the normal polish it tended to possess, hints of fatigue lacing their way into it. Based on the way he sounded, it seemed like Neuvillette could benefit from a good rest. You thought to suggest it, but the work stacked up all around him gave you pause. Neuvillette was nothing if not consistent in his duty. It was why he was so revered by the nation. So long as he was needed, he would continue to serve. The piles upon piles of paper that were neatly laid across his desk were enough to render any idea of an extended rest a futile one. They would weigh as heavily on his mind as they did his desk, easily preventing him from getting the rest he so desperately needed. “I am so pleased you decided to come by.” His gaze softened as he pulled his lips into a tired smile. You imagined it was the first time he had smiled in months. With him facing you, the worry and the woe that had etched its way across his features was all too clear. Dark bags hung beneath his jewel like eyes, dimming down some of their brilliance. It was a hard sight to swallow. While loathsome, Neuvillette was undeniably magnificent when he wanted to be. To see some of that brilliance sacrificed for the sake of his duty was almost too much to bear. “It is good to see you.” The relief in his soft voice made your heart ache. “I-” He swallowed roughly, gently clearing his throat. Water. He needed water. The cracks in his normally smooth voice told you his throat was unusually dry. Your eyes went to the crystal pitcher which sat opposite his desk. You could tell it was dry and empty. An unusual error on his part. It spoke to how distracted he really was. “I have missed you. I do try to remember to say goodnight to you, but you are often asleep once I am able to do so. What a pleasure it is to see you awake.” Slowly one of Neuvillette’s eyebrows crept upwards towards his brow. “You are doing well, I hope.” That hope found its way into his eyes, reflecting in the facets of them.  

You didn’t want to tell him you missed him. The capacity to do so died the second the thought had entered your mind. Still, you had. You did. As insane as it sounded, you missed his presence in your life. After all this time with him, you had gotten used to him being nearby. Never in arms reach, but always in ear shot. If the mood suited you, he was all too easy to pull into a conversation. You could ask him about the weather or the latest water samples and his voice would fill your world for hours. You could read while listening to him excitedly telling you about the difference in mineral composition between Liyue and Inazuma without ever having to say a word. Other days, you craved music. A perk of Neuvillette’s position was that singers, orchestras, and all kinds of theatrical troupes would send sample recordings as a way of enticing him into allowing them to perform at the opera. He played no part in the booking or the final decision. The Palais Mermonia merely handled the applications, but the theater manager would never turn down a favorite of the Chief Justice. Not when Neuvillette was positively enthralled with the idea of bringing a Liyuean opera star to entertain the masses. You benefited from this perk by way of Neuvillette bringing the records home for you. He would play them in the afternoons or even in the evenings after dinner as a suitable substitute to the two of you trying to hold an actual conversation. To suddenly not have him there, to have silence when you wanted conversation or music, was devastating. Playing the records alone didn’t hold the same appeal as it did when you were with him. “I-” You stared at him for another moment, trying to decide what best to do. You had missed him, but you couldn’t say so. You wanted to talk to him. You wanted to listen to your favorite Snezhnayan ballet with him again. The words to tell him so, failed you. A small voice in the back of your mind reminded you that to verbally admit you missed him, that you wanted him was to admit that he had finally won you over. The final victory in a series of smaller ones, where he could finally claim you as his. Even if it had sizable cracks in it, the wall you had held between you had to remain. You couldn’t allow it to fall.  To do so was to allow him the excuse to keep you here forever. “Dinner.” You grimaced slightly when you bit the word out as soon as it entered your mind. The quickness of it made you both take a pause before you tried to recover. “It’s time for dinner, Monsieur.” You looked away from him, your eyes sinking to the floor in embarrassment. “We-” You. “Though you might like a change of pace. Eating in your office everyday must be tiring.” You tried to make that last statement sound as gentle as possible, but it was hard to hide the mortification in your voice.

A gentle laugh filled the room, causing you to look up at him. Some of the luster had returned to his eyes. Slowly they drifted away from you and over to a clock that was resting on the mantle. They took in the time, his chin coming to idly rest against the palm of his hand. He had needed a break. You could see it in the way his entire body relaxed at even the most basic of conversations. His mind had been long occupied with work. It needed a breather as much as the rest of him did. “It is, isn’t it?” He sounded almost wistful. As if the concept of dinner with you was more a dream than the reality you had proposed. “You’re all dressed for it too.” You had noticed that he had turned his eyes back to you. That he was drinking your appearance in. You had selected something you could both enjoy; he for its aesthetics and you for its comfort. A suitable compromise in a series of compromises that had happened between you. “How wonderful you look this evening. I have truly missed basking in your radiance.” He tried to sound sincere in his compliment. Despite being exhausted, he tried. You could see he meant it. You could tell he wanted to sound pleased. But given his current condition, the best he could do was mild interest. “I have been neglectful of you, haven’t I? I seem to always be caught up in things lately. You have my most sincere apologies, petit.” The smile fell in favor of a mournful frown. You watched some of the lost tension in his shoulders return, hating it more than you hated the worn quality of his voice. “If we were still on our regular schedule I suppose I would be late, wouldn’t I?” His eyes came back to you for a final time, glistening with despair. “How clumsy of me.” There was a bitterness in his voice. It echoed in your own heart, causing the ache in it to become worse. You had never seen him like this. It went beyond the normal fits of depression and melancholy that he seemed to suffer. The distance between you felt wider than the chasm, despite you only being a few feet from each other. Why was it like this, what was happening? Why was it happening? What could be so great that it could reduce Neuvillette to this?

A cold sensation shot its way up your back as a dark thought crept into your mind. Had you caused this?

Once more, your eyes dropped to the floor while you raced to remember every interaction you’d had with him prior to his withdrawal from your world. Things had been amicable between you. The garden he had given you, along with slightly more autonomy, had gone a long way in improving your relationship. Outside of his less than desirable behavior, you were more prone to tolerating his presence when you weren’t hiding in your sanctuary. The only thing that came to mind was right before he had pulled away, he had gotten a little rough with you. When he came to you at night, Neuvillette was never forceful. The most he had ever done was hold you in place with a firm grip if you tried to roll away. There had been bruising afterwards, but they generally faded after a day or two. The night in question, coincidentally his last night with you, he had been uncharacteristically insistent. His grip on you had been unrelenting from the onset. Neuvillette had wrapped his legs around your lower body, using his strength to hold you in place so he was free to use his hands. It hadn’t taken much to wake you. Living in his house had taught you to be a light sleeper. The way he had pulled you against him, his nails puncturing the delicate flesh of your hips had instantly pulled you back to reality. On instinct, you had retaliated. But that wasn’t it, was it? You looked back up at him, his eyes still firmly fixed on you, full of all the love and affection you thought he could muster. Surely that wasn’t it. After all you had done, after all you had said, one kick couldn’t be the proverbial straw that broke him. That couldn’t be the reason why he had abandoned you. “My apologies mon trésor.” That came as little more than a whisper. “I am bereft to do so, but I must decline spending the evening with you.” He hesitated, his eyes falling back to the desk. “Duty calls.” There was an ebbing silence that passed between you, one that not even the fire in the fireplace could fill. At that moment, the world fell completely silent. All you swore you could hear was the sound of your own heart breaking. 

It showed on your face. It must have. The crack of thunder and the rustle of the trees matched the distress Neuvillette showed when he looked back at you. Outside, rain began to pelt against the panes of glass, hiding the weak sob that had managed to slip past your lips. The tears that fell onto your cheeks burned. The news that he couldn’t join you should have been a joyous thing to you. A confirmation that his lack of interest could be the first indication that his mania for you was passing. If he no longer believed he loved you, if there was no need to protect you, then surely that meant you could go home, didn’t it? You could return to your life. You could begin again. You should be overjoyed at the very possibility of it. No more restrictions or special diets. No more eyes following you everywhere. No more lack of privacy. You could control who or what entered your space simply by telling them to stay or go. You would never have to fear the roving hands that had haunted you in the night again. You could lock them out of your life as easily as you could the melusines. Everything you could want, everything you had wanted was all pinned on the concept of finally ridding yourself of your captor. Yet instead of being thrilled, instead of asking to the point of begging to be released, you could only begin to cry. Not out of happiness, but at the horrific realization that perhaps freedom wasn’t what you wanted anymore. Your life here, your life with him was a comfortable one. Aside from him and the ebbing loneliness without him, Neuvillette made your captivity an easy thing to bear. If you left the safety of Neuvillette’s arms or if you were forced to leave it, then you would have nowhere to go. Your apartment, along with your job and any mora you might have possessed were long gone. They had been lost the day you had disappeared. There was no promise that Neuvillette had saved them for you, nor was there any promise he would compensate you once you left. Everything you had, from your clothes to the roof over your head came because of Neuvillette’s love for you. Part of his need to keep you was so that he might protect and provide for you. To lose that affection meant the loss of his generosity. He could abandon you to the mercy of the streets and not think twice about it. You didn’t realize it, but you nearly collapsed just at the thought of it.

Neuvillette was at your side before your knees could fully give out. Strong arms wound their way around you, supporting your weight with ease. You made no effort to fight him. You had no more fight in you to give. All you had left were your tears and the very real possibility of begging for your next meal. “Forgive me, I beg it of you.” Neuvillette guided your head so he could gently press his lips against your damp cheek, causing you to cry even harder. “I wish I did not have to refuse you.” His arms came around your shoulders pulling you into a more tender embrace than before. “I have missed our time together. I loathe that it has been taken from us.” A beat passed before he continued. “I wish I could delay this for all of eternity, so that I might spend all my time with you.” You sucked in a deep breath, the terror of being abandoned easing just long enough to allow you to hear what he was saying. He still loved you. He still wanted you. Your actions hadn’t driven him away, at least not yet. That knowledge helped to calm you slightly, but it didn’t solve the overarching mystery. It didn’t explain Neuvillette’s current state nor the need for his extended absence. “Wh-” You hiccuped, trying to control your tears. “What is it?” You swallowed roughly, bring your hand up to weakly rest it against his arm. The warmth of your hand against his cool skin caused him to shiver. He responded to the consensual contact by pulling you even closer, fingers twisting their way into your hair so he might cradle the back of your head with his hand. 

“I am afraid mon coeur, it is the end.”

There was no elaboration that followed that statement. Just his arms growing tighter as you continued to spill your tears into the soft fabric of his shirt. You never did make it to dinner that night. Instead, you were content to let Neuvillette hold you until you were well past the point of exhaustion. You barely remembered the clock striking three before Neuvillette scooped you up in his arms and carried you to bed. Through the haze of your mental fatigue, you remembered him helping you undress. You had gently protested, but he had merely cooed at you, silencing your weak pleas as he undid the clasps and ribbons of your outfit. He was only satisfied when you were in a shift and little else. You stood before him, waiting for him to do more. You vaguely recalled your expectation for him to put his hands back on you. For him to pull you back in and take advantage of both your tired state and your state of undress; but to your shock, he did not. Instead, Neuvillette pulled back the covers of your bed, gently ushering you under them. Only once you were settled did he touch you again. You faintly recalled his soft lips pressing against your forehead before sleep claimed you. It was the last time you saw him. The next day, the melusines took you away.

Two melusines collected you from Neuvillette’s apartment in the morning. They escorted you across the strait and into the mountains above the Opera Epliclese that afternoon. Had you been in a better mood, you would have enjoyed it. The excursion was the first time you had been allowed outside the confines of Neuvillette’s residence in nearly a year. The fresh air and the exercise should have been a welcome change to the sedentary lifestyle you had been living. Instead, your mind had focused on the night before. On the fact that Neuvillette hadn’t come to bid you adieu as you had left. When questioned, your escorts informed you that he was busy with other matters. There was a major trial set to happen over the course of the next few days. They refused to tell you the details of it, you doubted you would have really cared anyway. The only thing that really mattered was that Neuvillette’s preparation for it outweighed his need to see you off. But you supposed that’s what the night before had been for. He had abandoned his work in favor of spending one last evening with you. Despite your despair, you supposed that was something.

Early in the afternoon, you had arrived at the little cabin you now occupied. It was a far cry from the grandeur of Neuvillette’s home in the Court, but it beat being left in the wilderness to die. The sweeping corridors and vast rooms had been replaced with a house barely large enough for one, let alone three. The words the end echoed continuously through your mind as you took it in. You briefly wondered if he had meant it was the end of you and him. Even with his reassurance that he loved you, it would be fitting that after all this time that even Neuvillette’s patience would run dry. The amiability that you had recently shared didn’t erase the fact that you had still been a nightmare for him prior. Perhaps the wounds you had inflicted had finally festered to the point of being intolerable. Your recent forbearance wasn’t enough to ease the pain they caused him and at long last he had chosen to simplify the arrangement you and he shared. He loved you enough to continue to protect and provide for you, but he would see you no more. In the span of a night, you had been transformed into a number on a balance sheet. Another piece of paper on his desk, that only received his attention when the bill was due. Beyond that, you were something he could set aside and ignore. You could almost understand it. After all, this was what you had fought so hard for. The mission had always been to make Neuvillette tire of you. That’s why you had done nothing but fight him at every turn. It had been your hope that if he realized you weren’t worth the trouble, that he would simply let you go. In retrospect, what a silly notion that had been. Freedom, at least complete freedom, would never be in your grasp again. You learned that when you found a third melusine, Sedene you thought she was called, waiting for you in the house. She informed you that per Neuvillette’s wishes, you were to remain here for the foreseeable future. There had been a spiel about your safety and how you needed to stay close to both the house and your new keepers at all times. That it would be beneficial for you to avoid the shore. She implored that you heed Neuvillette’s wishes this one time. If you didn’t, then there was no guarantee that anyone would be able to help you.

You had found that odd. It joined the near constant playback in your mind as you laid awake on the lumpy mattress at night. He loved you. The end. Stay close or else. Avoid the shore and the water. It hadn’t made sense to you a few days ago. None of it had. Your watchers had tried to assure you everything was fine. Even when you directly questioned them about Neuvillette’s motive for sending you here, they promised you it wasn’t what you were thinking. In their words, the honorable Iudex was doing all he could to keep you safe. When you pressed further, one of them let it slip that the lower areas along the shore, specifically the city and the area around the Opera were not safe. Once the proverbial cat was out of the bag, you were told that Neuvillette had been spending all of his time on a plan to stop a catastrophe that was ready to strike at any moment. Part of that plan included protecting you. Despite his own reservations on the matter, sending you to one of the highest points in Fontaine was one of the only ways Neuvillette could alleviate the constant worry he had for you. Up until he had sent you away, he had held that option as a last resort. His preference had always been and would always be to keep you close. According to your new friends, once the crisis had passed, he would send for you. 

Now, as the world was swallowed whole by the murky depths, you saw the full picture in its full horrifying detail. The End was exactly that. It was the prophecy, the end of Fontaine as a people and as a nation. The insolvable crisis that had drawn Neuvillette’s attention for these last few months was the destruction of all and how to stop it; or at this stage minimize it. As your eyes passed over the rising waters, you were all too aware that there was no stopping this. You could only wonder how much higher the water could truly climb before it finally yielded. It was getting close now. The hands that had held you back, yielded so that you might climb higher. After doing so, your eyes focused back on the horizon. They continued to search for any sign that Neuvillette may still come. You waited and waited and waited. Silently pleading with Neuvillette to appear. Yet all you continued to see were the calamitous skies that covered the land and the waters below. No lights, no signs, no miracles; all that remained were catastrophe and death.

Death. Gods what if he hadn’t made it? What if part of the plan to save Fontaine was that Neuvillette would have to sacrifice himself for the greater good? What if the last time you saw him was truly the last time? What if your current circumstances were his final gift to you? Your felt as if your very soul splintered at the thought. With all he had to worry over, with the weight of the nation resting on his shoulders, the one thing he had been sure to save was you. Not the city or the people or the papers that plagued him or even himself; just you. Your knees gave out as you openly sobbed. Your keepers were quick to help you. They released your hands, rushing under you so they could catch you as you fell. Gently, they lowered you to the ground, urging you to come back to the small house you were all sharing. In their minds, the storm had proven to be too much for you. They worried after how cold you were, how drenched you were. One was concerned over the fever she swore you were developing, while the other mentioned something about your present state being the furthest thing from what Monsieur Neuvillette wanted. The mere mention of him only made you cry harder. Their focus was back on you in an instant, trying their best to calm you. Platitudes of everything will be fine and you’re safe did little to help ease the suffering that was ebbing up from your very soul. How were they to know that your actual burden wasn’t the storm at all, but the fact that thanks to Neuvillette, if the rest of Fontaine was lost, you would survive?

It was some time before your companions could coax you back inside. The realization that the three of you may be the only survivors zapped away any strength you had left. After your emotional distress had drained you to the point of exhaustion, the cold nearly finished you. You knelt there on the frozen ground, the wind freezing what few tears you had left to your face. The cold air cut through you with each blast. Everything from your neck to your toes was stiff. Your body could do little more than shiver as each moment passed. In the end, your keepers had to help you back to both the house and to your bed. They were in a panic once you were safely inside. You could do little more than watch as they frantically scurried about, fretting over the task of getting you warm and dry before there were any worse consequences than shivering. Getting you warm wasn’t too difficult to do. Dry clothes and blankets went a long way to stop your shivering. Your hair was a different matter altogether. The duo end up seating you near the small stove that sat in the corner of the kitchen. It was their hope that the heat would dry your hair faster. The activity, along with the exhaustion were a nice distraction. Your companions' efforts forced you to miss both the cessation of the storm and the flood alike. By the time they had you tucked into bed, the crisis was nearly at an end. A fact that you were woefully unaware of. Without the news that the storm had passed, your mind churned over the idea that both Fontaine and Neuvillette might be gone. You tried to come to grips with those facts, but your tired mind had neither the desire nor the inclination to try. Sleep kept calling to it. Numbing your senses to everything around you, including the sound of heels striking against the stone walk that led to the house. 

Later, you often wondered if it was all a dream. If like your imaginary suitors and your fictional adventures, you had made the situation with Neuvillette up. Your captivity was in fact a reality. There was no denying that the Iudex of Fontaine held you firmly in his grasp. The months spent apart though. Your pseudo freedom while he toiled away. Even the climax of all of Fontaine being in peril due to the realization of the prophecy. The sky, the water, the ebbing cold followed by a scorching heat. Had they all been real or were they little more than delusions conjured by the fever that had taken hold after your exposure to the elements? It was hard for you to say. What was real though, was waking up in the safety of Neuvillette’s home. That prayer was answered. You knew it was his home, because you could hear the pitter patter of melusine feet scuffing against the parquet floors. The sheer number of them indicated that the only place you could be was Neuvillette’s home. Melusines liked to congregate near him. He allowed them to do so wherever they wished, but especially so within the confines of either the Palais Mermonia or his own personal residence. The room though, was not your own. The heavy brocades that lined the walls were unfamiliar to you. The bed with its ornate carvings, gilded ceiling, and velvet drapes that hung from the four corners of the canopy was entirely foreign to your world. It, like the rest of the furniture in this room, possessed an age and a weight that the rest of the furnishings in the house did not. As your own mental fog began to lift, you realized you had never been in this room before. Strangely though, you still felt you knew it. Maybe it was the rich teals and blues of the decor, or maybe it was the lingering scent of the sea breeze that wafted throughout the room. There was something entirely familiar about it that put you at ease. “Ma moitié” Neuvillette. You sucked in a sharp breath, your head weakly turning from side to side as you sought him out using the dim light of the space. Neuvillette was here. He was with you. Celestia above he was with you. The prophecy hadn’t claimed him as you had feared. He, like you, was safe. 

Obligingly, Neuvillette briefly came into your field of view before he disappeared to press kiss after kiss into your hair, cheeks and sternum. “My darling one, you’ve returned to me at long last.” The relief in his soft voice was evident. It was too great to reflect the breaking of a fever or even the passing of an illness. You would have had to have been on death’s door to justify his reaction to you waking up. You couldn’t stop your mind as it briefly wandered back to your dream; to the icy winds and rising waters. Placing you on the side of a mountain while the nation flooded wasn’t exactly an elegant solution. You could, even in your muddled state, imagine the stress that fact had put on him. To find you safe, but far from well, had almost assuredly not helped him in the least. His body shifting distracted you from your thoughts. Though you couldn’t see him do it, you felt Neuvillette as he pulled himself even closer to you. A heavy arm came across your hips, his weight dipping into the mattress so he might press your body into his. The feeling of him, the warmth ebbing off of him was a welcomed thing. All you remembered was being cold. For weeks, maybe even months, all you had felt was the chill of Neuvillette’s absence. He paused above you, long enough to give you a tender smile. Though fuzzy, he was as you remembered him. His appearance was as tidy as it had ever been. There were no signs of fatigue anywhere on his person. He was, much to your own concern, perfect. It made you doubt that the crisis wasn’t a fever dream. Maybe you really had imagined it after all.  “Mon-” You grimaced, your throat exploding in pain from just the attempt of speaking. Your vocal chords refused to respond as a burning sensation shot its way from the top of your throat all the way to the base. It felt as if your throat was being split in two with a hot blade. Gods it was terrible. The sensation was only made worse due to how dry your throat and your mouth both felt. Your tongue felt like sandpaper against your rough lips as it tried to add moisture to them. Neuvillette, seemed unconcerned. You felt him nudge your cheek with his nose, pulling a small whimper from you. “Shhh darling.” He kissed your nose, finally pausing long enough to rest his forehead against yours. “Do not push yourself.” He lifted his face so that he might look into your eyes again. “The fever has been taxing for you.” His other hand came up to rest against the crown of your head. “It has broken now. I have been told you have come through the worst of it.” Another gentle smile spread across his lips. “All you need do now is rest.” You felt his hand come to rest against the top of your head. Faintly, you detected the sensation of his fingers working their way into your hair, looping and stroking the individual strands, before settling on rubbing your scalp. The feeling you got from it was a nice one. It allowed the haze that had held your mind the chance to slowly take hold once again.

The remainder of your reunion with him was a quiet one. There were no parties or streamers. No shouts of joy. Just the occasional interruption of the melusines. In between food being brought and the bedding being changed, Neuvillette persisted in his soft words as he whispered endless promises to you between kisses. Words of adoration, promises of contentment. In your present state none of them really mattered. They were washed away by your own relief. Fontaine had not been lost to the black waters of the prophecy. Neuvillette had not perished. He was as safe as he had ever been. The hands that you had hated so could still be enticed to hold you close. It was just as the melusines had said. They nor he had not abandoned you. You were loved. You were cherished. The peace that came with that knowledge was overwhelming. You could do little more than lay back against the pillows as the stress drained away. You tried to focus on him, on his words, but after everything you were too tired. The softness of his voice, along with his continued rubbing of your scalp with his fingers worked better than any lullaby could. Gradually his words became indiscernible. They blended into a beautiful symphony of sounds that pulled you closer and closer to the sweet oblivion that was sleep. Before you fell, one last promise came from his lips, cutting straight through the fog that had all but enveloped your mind. A solemn vow from Neuvillette to you; on his life, you and he would never be separated like that again. He would be as he wished to be, by your side for all eternity.

To your own contentment, you certainly hoped so.

yan!king x chubby!maid!reader

~*well, this managed to get uploaded on accident, but I guess for those who come across this, welcome to the soft launch of the blog!*~

warnings: explicit nsfw, noncon, somnophilia, cum inside, obsessed king just loves his pretty lil maid so much and wants you to have his babies

- imagine being specifically chosen by the yan!king himself to serve as his personal maid

- he’s seen you around the castle for a few years, becoming obsessed with you and your soft frame

- it had gotten to the point he’d go insane if he didn’t have you, and he promoted you so he could see and speak with you every day

- imagine the yan!king getting violently angry when you’re not the one to tend to him

- his heart would shatter, thinking his darling must not love him anymore

- he gets so mean and scours the castle himself to track you down, practically crying because you didn’t like him anymore

- he’d find you in your room, having overslept that morning

- imagine having to talk him out of the tantrum that tried to follow after, reassuring him that you did like him

- yan!king would take that as a hint that you had feelings for him as well, and now he’d stop at nothing to make you his queen

- you’re now by his side 24/7, even moving into the servant’s room that was directly across from his

- imagine yan!king sneaking into your room one night, sick of just imagining how you felt and ready to just get his hands on the real thing

- he’d start by oh-so-slowly pushing the edge of your night gown up, drooling as the pads of his fingers finally touched your soft skin, his cock becoming hard at just that

- then, he’d push his hand between her thighs to cup your center, his middle finger sliding up your slit

- as his fingers pumped in and out of you slowly, he’d drink in your unconscious moans, his other hand pumping at his cock

- imagine yan!king has your legs pushed upwards, thrusting his cock into your puffy pussy at a gentle pace

- he’s whimpering at how good you feel, your walls pulsing around him

- he’d fill you up so much, crying at the immense pleasure of finally being able to cum inside of you, having to force himself off of you so he didn’t wake you from another round

- the next morning, he’d take notice in your limp and your hand rubbing at your aching lower back, feeling pride in having claimed you

- he’d do it a few more times before finally trying to court you while you were awake, but you’d never know that

Messaging people for the first time is so hard. What am I supposed to say? Like, "You seem really odd and your blog intrigues me. Do you want to have philosophical conversations or perhaps talk about fictional characters?" What! Whatever. I will just follow you back and stare at your blog with my big beautiful brown eyes.

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

WEEK 2 - ❝𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜❞

⊹ ࣪ ˖ alhaitham x reader | aphrodisiac ⊹ ࣪ ˖

summary ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟall these voices in the background of your brain, they tell you everything he’s thinking

WEEK 3 – ❝𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭❞

⊹ ࣪ ˖ phantom of the opera!rafayel | corruption ⊹ ࣪ ˖

summary ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟyou must sing, his angel of music

WEEK 4 – ❝𝐒𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧❞

⊹ ࣪ ˖ fallen angel!zayne x mortal!reader | dirty talk ⊹ ࣪ ˖

summary ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟwhere touch fails, words take its place

WEEK 5 – ❝𝐁𝐲 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝❞

⊹ ࣪ ˖ dark!morax x mortal!reader | power imbalance ⊹ ࣪ ˖

summary ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟas a faithful servant, you will do anything to gain the god’s favor

𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖕 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍 𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌

𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖜𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋…

Oh hey tomorrow is Wolfenoot.

please, untitled document was my father, call me untitled document (1)

saw someone say "an 11-year-old isn't even supposed to know what sex is and if you do something horrible must be happening to you and you need to get out of there" like can we be for real for a moment. have some people honest to god never heard 11-year-olds making sex jokes in their life

he's very excited about his first night as a jack o lantern