SAY YES TO ME + JING YUAN.

❝ SAY YES TO ME ❞ + JING YUAN.

CW :: female!reader, husband!jing yuan, mostly fluff, ‘baby talk’, angst and smut undertones // synopsis. Jing Yuan wants a little bundle of joy. // word count.1k

notes :: back with my bullsh!t again. atp, jing yuan and his wife has become my new song on loop. this is a sequel but you can enjoy it as a one-shot too. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED. back to blog navigation.

Never in thousand light years Jing Yuan thought he would witness this sight: his wife sleeping on same bed with him using his arm as a pillow. Not that he has not slept with you before, he has but not like this: like fine silk threads that are too tangled to be spruced up for weaving. He swiftly moves his arm by an inch not to wake you up but enough to let you shift in sleep.

Jing Yuan’s dawing amber eyes flash on the pendant that rests on your chest and his mind is immediately occupied by the visions on that pendant kept dancing as he fucked you deep and full, along with your tits. He groans getting out of bed and spotting the nightgown you had on last night. That's odd. You are not naked now. Maybe when he was asleep you cleaned yourself up.

Jing Yuan walks to your side of the bed grazing your cheeks with the back of his palm. You look so at peace, so beautiful like this. He leans towards you blowing air into your ears, hands resting on the edge ready to catch you if you fall. A sharp intake of breath, slow blinking of heavy eyelids as a husky voice penetrates your lulled state. “Good Morning, my little sparrow.”

“Good morning ’my lion.” you barely mumble stretching out your limbs to be properly awake.

As he ties the sash of his robe you sit up, looking around your eyes fall on a carved piece of wood that seems like a bird. “What is that?” You asked briskly grabbing the piece from the side table and inspecting it. “Have you been taking Yanqing’s toys? to punish him? Again? ” Your voice spiked up at each turn of a question.

“No,” He protested immediately yet it did not satisfy you. You narrowed your gaze on him and then shifted your attention to the carved wooden piece.

“Did you make this?”

“Hmm-ummm” Jing Yuan responded. He is tapping his feet on the ground with his arms tucked across his chest. Unable to keep his bubbling thoughts to himself he blurted out “It’s for you.” You snap your eyes at him with surprise. He sat at the edge of the bed explaining further, “I — I made this for us. For you know, our baby.”

“Oh.” Your eyebrows grew closer as you looked at him holding the wooden eagle in curled palms. “oh” You realized what was going on with him all these, getting handsy with you, spending more time with Yanquig, looking at you with bedroom eyes every time you went in his quarters during his working hours and as such.

“Oh I see.” At this point you could hear every swallow of breath you took. “Will you...will you really discard me...if i don't want— You murmur with tears in your eyes, vision so blur that you can barely see his face properly. You looked down curling your palms in fists on your lap. The rough surface of the wooden eagle pinches your skin.

You remember how your father wedded another woman to produce an heir, always looked down upon since the moment your half-brother was born and when things did not go as planned he decided to use you as a weapon, to mend his torn kingdom. In your memory, your mother has always been a spectator, an audience of the sabotage your father inflicted on you, and your mother — always will be; but shall you too go down the same fate?

— or rather can't give you an heir? Tell me. Now. Will you? ”

“what? No. No. I married you because I liked you. Anyone who says otherwise is just lying. Moreover, you don't have to give me an heir.” Jing Yuan buried under the debris of some fairly tail happy endings he concocted about you crashed into pieces. Who made you like this? Who hurt you so bad that — “I just... I just want us to try for a baby. A symbol of our love.”

“symbol of our love?” You question it as if you never thought of him having any iota of affection for you. You question it as if you never considered that this marriage of convenience could offer you something more.

“yes.” Jing Yuan sternly spoke taking your hands into his. He cupped your cheeks swiping away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. “You know,” he starts “I always wondered why you didn’t cry that day. . . when I brought you here for the first time. I was under the impression that girls generally cry when they have to leave their home.” He chuckles softly scooting towards you. “But i think I have an idea now. . .” he trails off. Ducking his head a little he meets your eyes that has been stilled on the crumpled bedsheets for a while now.

“I— I felt caged there. My father isn't a kind man.“ You admitted .

“Oh Trust me, I’m aware.” A cackle followed. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes.

“Let me think about it. I promise. I promise to think about it.” You muttered flinching at the sudden jolt that made you close your eyes. When you opened them, you were inches closer to his face, your knees touching the soft mattress as one of his thighs support you in V - position. He is deflecting the hurt, there must be some isn't it? After all, Jing Yuan did not anticipate this kind of reaction either. Sure, he expected you to throw a tantrum but not to be so dipped in dread.

“Sure.” He quips resting his chin on the apex of your cleavage. “Meanwhile. Give that to me.” He eyes the wooden piece of the eagle before continuing, “I don't want you to stress about this. We have time. We can talk about it tomorrow, the day after, or maybe never. I'll wait,”

You parted your lips to speak in hopes of soothing the hurt. If you know him well, then you can assume that he is hurt, so much so that he might have reopened some old wounds.

“I’ll wait my dear.” he beams before kissing between your collarbones. Ah! He is a walking wound now.

sequel to void.

x : SLEEPY FAVOUR :*+ﾟ

in which: you've unwillingly become jing yuan's cuddle buddy for his afternoon naps.

warnings: fluff, 700 wc, bad writing lul, established relationship, dialogue-heavy, gn!reader teases a clingy!jing yuan.

a/n: two fics in two days. wow. who am i. enjoy. (i posted an itoshi rin fic yesterday pls feel free to check it out!)

“you cannot keep doing this, jing yuan.”

sitting up to look at the man, your complaint is hushed quickly by the general, who places a hand on your shoulder and pulls you back down into his arms. he wraps himself around you like a vine and you groan at the suffocating sensation. still, jing yuan does not let up, not giving in to your complaints and grumbles as he draws circles on your arm.

“when you messaged me earlier about paying you a visit, i did not anticipate for it to be because you were simply feeling lonely. and clingy,” you sigh and the white-haired laughs.

“then what else?”

“something of value? something that will contribute to the wellness of the luofu?”

“is this not of value?” 

“calling me as your cuddle buddy for your afternoon nap is hardly of value.”

“i object. in fact, i would beg to differ. is the wellbeing of the luofu’s general something to take lightly?”

you huff, turning around in his arms to face him. jing yuan looks at you through half-lidded eyes, fatigue evident in them as he smiles softly. instinctively, your hand reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind of ears and at the graze of your touch, he shuts his eyes, seemingly peaceful and content. 

“flaunting your title, are you?” you ask. “what happened to your humility?”

he’s quick to reply. “gone if it will prevent you from leaving.” 

a smooth talker. your lover, jing yuan, has always had a way with words, laced with carelessness yet drenched in honey, there’s little of him you can resist. even now, you feel your frustration subsiding with one simple comment.

“and why should the general have a few hours of the day just to slack off?” you ask. “your afternoon naps can wait, luofu’s safety shouldn’t.”

“you say that, yet how many centuries of peace have we lived through?”

“why is everything i’m saying only inflating your ego?” then, just to spite him, you pull your hand away and his eyes open at the lack of contact that grounds him to a realm of peace and comfort. immediately missing your warmth, jing yuan finds your wrist and moves it to rest on his face once more. 

you don’t give him the satisfaction, hoping to give him a piece of your mind by once again, retracting your hand out of his hold and his sleepy gaze darkens into something akin to displeasure.

“won’t you indulge in me?” questions the cloud-knight. “i have worked so hard today already, i have been looking forward to taking an afternoon nap.”

“and is that not possible without me?”

he shakes his head with the temperament of a child and a pout to match. what will the court think when they see this side of your feared and revered lover? “ever since you rest with me that day, no, and i will never go back.”

where did his perseverance go?

“you suggest these things as if i am not busy myself. i cannot listen to your every request and demand when i have mountains of work to complete too!”

“i have requested that they be pushed back until later. your schedule has been cleared out for the next few hours.”

“jing yuan!” you exclaim, pushing him away lightly. “you cannot do that!”

“i can, and i have.”

before you can even utter another word, jing yuan has rolled over to lie on top of you, placing half of his weight on you to act as an anchor, effectively preventing you from moving anywhere.

the press of his muscles against you and the tightening of his arms around your torso are like cannonballs against your determination, and considering that he discarded his armour the moment you stepped through the door, it’s only fair if you do the same.

“come on, my love, do you not care for your general?” he asks, borderlining a whine. 

“fine.” you surrender, finally wrapping your arms around him as well. “only because i want him to be at top performance.”

“what about your lover? don’t you wish for any benefits for him too?” 

“he is of lesser importance,” you tease. “in fact, he should suffer for what he puts me through.”

jing yuan chuckles and his laugh reverberates into your heart. “i would hate to be him, then."

"watch yourself, jing yuan."

"of course, anything for you," murmurs the white-haired before he finds purchase in the bend of your neck. surrounded by you, he wordlessly dozes off without a care in the world.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

ok.

i am not one to start shit up, but like, if you're mutuals or friends with user @/n3r0-1417, or Ari, you can unfollow me and block me. i am not about to sit here and tolerate anyone who continues to defend and excuse their behaviour. they are a MINOR that interacts with NSFW and adult spaces, and flirts with adults knowingly, with the excuse of being "hypersexual".

adding onto that, if you are in association with @/kurolumiis, or Luma, you can also unfollow me and block me. i am sick and tired of finding out from other people about their entitled self and how they think they're entitled to gatekeep a character in a GENSHIN COMMUNITY/SERVER that they chose to join. i am also SICK from the amount of shamelessness from these two, just boldly saying they interact and write smut on the daily, and seeing my own mutuals or people i know just ignoring this problem when all these people that I KNOW literally cut off ties with user @/bfajax the second he did whatever shit he did.

hypersexuality is also known as sexual addiction. in other words, you can compare it to other bad habits and addictions, like alcohol addiction and drug addiction. it ruins your physical, mental and psychological health, and destroys your relationships with the people around you, regardless if they're family or friends. it's not an EXCUSE for a MINOR to be posting SEXUAL CONTENT on the internet. it does not make it okay for a MINOR to interact with adult spaces regardless if they really have the illness or not.

final reminder. if you are mutuals with either users and you're following / mutuals with me, i will soft block or hard block you. i don't give a fuck who you are anymore, i am not going to sit here and share spaces with the likes of them, and neither should you.

❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.

boothill x fem!reader.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).

𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.

"You look like you should be in a saloon."

The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to somewhere secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.

He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first time I heard that one."

"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."

"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."

"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"

"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."

"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"

"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."

"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."

"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"

"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"

"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the ‘prize money’ up, if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."

"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"

"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"

You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."

"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."

"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"

He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"

You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."

He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."

"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."

"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."

"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.

"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."

"You can't swear?"

"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."

You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."

"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."

"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."

He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."

"Gotcha." You leaned your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.

"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."

"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."

Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"

"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."

He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"

You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."

"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't mean he didn’t have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."

You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."

"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."

You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."

He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."

"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"

He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."

So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothill stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."

With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.

you forgot to pay the bill for your drink

so I covered it for you.

you owe me one, cowboy

His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.

Oopsies 🤭

How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?

His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.

Alright then

I want steak

Can you even eat?

You liked how he always replied fast.

Nah

But that's fine

Your company's better

Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.

Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.

Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.

© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.

all i do on this app is cry 🙁👎🏻

UNDELIVERED❞ - aventurine

summary: his voicemail is full of messages, all from you, never to be heard

warnings: reader is gn, spoilers for the 2.1 penacony quest, angst, hurt/no comfort

notes: like genuinely i am not able to write for him anymore, i’m so sorry if this sucks or anything i’ve been suffering writers block for the longest time 😭

i saw the prettiest gemstones just now, but they couldn’t match the hue of your eyes. i know people belittle you for it, but i think they’re really beautiful, like all of you. i know you’re probably busy right now. i’ll wait for you to come back before telling you about my day, and you can tell me about yours. do you want to play a few rounds before turning in? i love you.

(played)

thanks for the gift; you seriously didn’t have to. i know you only came to penacony for business, and you didn’t have to take me along either. i’ll make it up to you, i swear. how about a date once you finish work? i heard about this casino; there’s this hotshot there that you might enjoy wiping the floor with. what do you say? see you later. i love you.

(played)

i know something's off, and you’re not telling me about it. where did you go just now? you promised we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other, but you’ve been hiding something the whole time we’ve been here. i’m not angry; i just…i just want you to be open with me. is that so bad? call me back as soon as you can. i love you.

(played)

i’m sorry i yelled at you; your plan wasn’t something… i could agree with, i don’t care if ratio agrees to it. we can work this out; you don’t have to do this alone. just come back, and maybe we can find a better solution. love you.

(played)

i know that i apologized, but it’s not in the way you think it is; maybe it wasn’t even directed at our argument. not sorry, like, "oh, i pity your upbringing," but more of, "sorry for thinking that we could and sorry that we ever tried (to work)." that sounds mean. maybe it is. i could never heal you from the wounds inflicted by your past; they were always too deep to fill up. and i know i wasn’t the best person for you to choose as your second half; why did you do it? why did you pick me out of everyone else? why did you think i was deserving enough of your affection?

look, i know you don't want to talk to me right now. i wouldn't want to either. but i really want this to work out in your favor. i know that i’m being selfish by wanting you even when i can’t. is it wrong to be selfish just this once if it means you’ll live?

yell at me and throw things and scream that i’m as bad as a person like those who hurt you, perhaps even more for knowing that you were hurting and i did it anyway. i don't care. but please don't ignore me. i would rather bleed myself dry for you than be forgotten. i know that nothing i say will change the past; what's done is done. but we can change the future. i don’t want to lose you, not in a million years, in another life, or in any other universe.

we can solve this, find a better alternative, and i can leave afterwards if that’s what you really want. if you can pretend that we’re okay just for a little bit—if you can talk to me one more time—i promise i’ll leave you alone. i promise i’ll never call you again or anything. please call me back. i love you so.

(played)

it’s been seventeen system hours, where are you?

(undelivered)

you’re joking, right? a grand performance? is this just another one of your pranks? there’s no way you- *cuts off*

(undelivered)

you did it, didn’t you? was it worth it?

(undelivered)

hey, please. please come back. i’m sorry. i’ll do anything to have you by my side. don’t leave me alone. please. i can’t live with myself knowing that the last words I said to you face-to-face were “i hate you.” i don’t hate you; i could never hate you. i’d hate the whole world before i could ever do that. please pick up. i love you please.

(undelivered)

it’s pathetic for me to keep calling you over and over again, thinking you’d pick up. maybe some part of me does, or i just want to hear the sound of your voicemail. i hate you; maybe i do hate you. i hate you for leaving me behind and making me think that maybe this would all work out.

(undelivered)

do you think it would have been any different? is it cruel of me to want you when you have never wanted anything else but this? you don’t have to come back as a ghost to haunt me when i’m haunted by everything because it reminds me of you. i can see you in front of me, always protecting me, but never once doing so for yourself. i can hear your laugh—your real laugh, not one of falsehood. i used to draw stars around your scars, didn’t i? but i was the cause of them bleeding you out before you...you’re gone now.

(undelivered)

i miss you. i’m sorry for what i said, and it’s too late now anyway. i won’t be able to forget you, like you told me to. they say that the brain can’t tell whether something is real or a dream, so i’d always believe this horrid dream, even if you’re not here anymore. i think of you all the time now that you’re gone. will you think of me up there?

(undelivered)

*static before it cuts off.*

(undelivered)

i hate the phrase ‘till death do us part’ because even after death, i would still love you. i’ll always be here right where you left me, waiting for you to come home even though i know you won’t.

(undelivered)

sweet dreams. i love you, kakavasha.

(undelivered)

© AVENTURNE 2024. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD MY WORKS ONTO ANY OTHER SITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION

WAAAHHH IT'S MY BABY'S BIRTHDAYY 🥹

i love him so so so muchh :(( my precious love