⌒☆ "Hello Pinky! So happy to see ya back! Hope my request isn't too much for you! <3"
Can i get Shuichi and Hajime (sep if u can!) with a gn! reader who uses their cutesy look to trick and lie to others? They also say ALOT of dirty jokes (think of Miu but they can actually be important in the class trials). But one day suddenly reader gets a little more quiet and embarrassingly soft with Shuichi and Hajime?? THAT'S how they knew reader loves them, as they now ACCIDENTALLY say lovey stuff instead of dirty stuff
⌒☆ "hope you're alright, and if you think my request is too difficult you can always tell me!"
#KURO✦OUT—
Okay!. Sorry it took so long. I'm doing fine. I kinda just struggle a bit when writing Shuichi.
"A little shit." That's what Hajime would describe you with. Shuichi would too but he doesn't have the heart to call you that. You are adorable, any poor unfortunate soul would think your just an innocent person. But the things you say and do. "Hey! Maybe if you bent over enough and moaned-" GOSH they are vulgar. Hajime and Shuichi put up with you, only because your useful in trials. But it was weird in the shift of you. Softer, quieter, with Hajime and Shuichi. No no! You couldn't have possibly fell in love?! That's impossible- it was very very possible. Those sweet nothings you whispered. Then you immediately ran off embarrassed and realized what you said. They chased after you. It was a weird, cute game of cat and mouse. Hajime and Shuichi were loving every part of it. Maybe you'd confess first, maybe you were waiting for them to confess first. Maybe you all just liked this game. Maybe it was weird. But deep down. Its fun!. To all of you.
OKAY SORRY IF IT'S BAD AND SEEMS RUSHED!! I wrote this at like 12am!.
"The garden is fully open! Ish. Your flower may take long to plant.! I'm not fully in my game yet."- Love Pinky<3
Do you want to draw or cosplay a retired war general in his cutesy dorm uniform but are struggling to find an accurate reference for that godforsaken pattern on his tights?
Well do I have a solution for you!
Now you might be saying: "Oh, I can just buy or look at a cosplay." WRONG!
Here's what my (limited) research yielded:
-A Pinterest image I was very excited to use as a reference until I looked closer....
-Some cosplays. Now I understand that a cosplay under 150€ doesn't have to have the details completely right but the two on the left were 200€+!!! And the pattern is ONLY on one side for all of these cosplays. One look at his full life 2D sprite or his dorm uniform groovy and you would have seen that it is on both sides. (Sidenote: I also really hate how some of these are leggings instead of tights.)
Here's the full transparent file for anyone who needs it!
hi!! could u perchance write a jason todd x male reader smutfic where basically reader is this larger and stronger man and could absolutely manhandle jason, but in bed, reader becomes the most submissive top ever and jason is an absolute power bottom ?? :3
🤫 Sh, Don't Tell Nobody
Warning: Dom Bottom character, Sub Top AMAB no pronouned reader, anal penetration, established relationship. No use of (y/n).
Note: Lowkey nothing burger with a dash of angst but I've been in that mood recently...so, enjoy!
!!————————————!!
Jason has never liked bigger men. Those who were taller, muscular, with a demanding presence to boot. He'll always feel like a helpless kid staring down a juice collector, trying to will away the threat from his limp mother just down the hall behind him. No matter how much Jason puffed out his chest and glared, it was never enough to dissuade anyone from doing what he wanted.
Then Jason became the big man. No longer was he squaring his pointy shoulders and hissing at everyone who looked his way. Now, he walked with a hunch to his shoulders as if afraid to take up too much room. So long as he wasn't on a job, that is.
And then...there was you.
Deep down, Jason's sure he'll always pause, at least for a brief moment, when he glimpses your shadow in the hallways. He'll always prefer to sleep with his back turned, hands to yourself at night. You're not that kind of guy, but at a glance, you could be. He feels terrible for it.
You're gentle, though, soft. Sometimes Jason takes advantage of it; most of the time he doesn't. It's not your fault you have the figure you do; it's not your fault he's so insecure all the time. He shouldn't take it out on you. He does, though; it bleeds out.
It really is a blessing that you're so submissive. Always so eager to do everything he says. Bending this way and that, all for him. It makes Jason feel a certain type of way, even outside of arousal. It's almost as if it's a big 'fuck you' to the world who's delt him these shitty cards.
"Tell me you love me," He'll pant against your ear while riding you, though it's really more of a painfully slow grind. His nails are all tugged into your chest and shoulders. Leaving tender lines all over. You whimper what he wants to hear, because of course you do, and it only serves to fuel the ocean of delusion swirling around him. He loves you, of course he does, but the high you give him is like nothing else. The second you get your cock in his ass, he phases out.
Distantly, he can feel how you're pawing at his hips and waist; it's warm, burning actually, but more in a dizzying manner rather than a grounding one. Your tongue glides up his neck, suckes marks against his jaw, and all Jason can do is smile to himself.
SUM: Yuuji finds out how to make you squirt through reddit. And a little bit of estimating, and hands-on expiriments.
No proofread... maybe later. NSFW under cut.
To be completely, unfiltered, absolutely and a hundred percent truthful,
Yuuji can be kind of scary like this.
Scary-- scary when he's focused, and calculated, and so insanely devoted and concentrated on something that nothing can stop him. In any other scenario you would've been less afraid, maybe more-so-appalled, giggle, and give him some sort of sweet treat or maybe simple affection as a reward later on for working so diligently on something.
But in this scenario, with Yuuji between your spread legs, thick, callused fingers dragging against the gummy slick walls of your hole, with his free hand expertly stroking up and down and up and down the shaft of your cock, it's a bit hard (no pun intended) not to be scared.
"Yu-uji, s'-- knock it off, s'not g-gonna... nuthin's gunna..."
"Shhh,"
Yuuji gently kisses the tips of his fingers against your swollen sweet spot, a small groan fluttering from his lips as he watches your spine bow and your toes curl.
"I got this. Y'don't believe me, baby?" His words come out slurred and hot, mingling with the sounds of your moans and whines. "Have I ever failed you when it comes t'..."
Yuuji presses a warm, sloppy, wet kiss to the sensitive tip of your cock, practically making out with the poor swollen thing before sucking hard, then pulling off with a filthy slurp followed by a loud 'pop!'.
"...makin' you feel good? Hm? Baby? My baby?"
All you can do in response is whine. Yuuji isn't wrong, and you both know this. It's just...
A few hours ago, everything was perfectly fine. You guys hadn't had sex in a few days, and besides getting handsy here and there, Yuuji seemed fine. In absolute mint condition, if anything. And then, miraculously, he just happened to scroll across some stupid reddit post talking about men squirting. And instead of behaving like any rational person, and just continuing to read through the strings of posts and comments, he just immediately decides that using you as his personal guinea pig is the best course of action.
So, you've been sitting here, legs forced open over the width of Yuuji's shoulders, fluttering hole stuffed with fingers with your poor cock forced to come for what's been maybe the fourth time tonight. in the past hour and a half.
You've tried everything just to try and get a break. You've squirmed, you've kicked, you've cried, you've tried to physically get up off the bed and crawl away, but nothing seems to work. It's just... nothing seemed to get through that thick skull of his.
You can't say you'd like to completely stop, but a break... a break would be nice.
While he's so dead set on making you squirt, you're adamant nothing is going to happen.
You let your head drop back, hips jerking and rolling uncontrollably when he angles his fingers and thrusts right into your prostate, his other hand wrapped around the base of your cock-- rough thumbpad gently petting the seam of your balls.
"Hm."
You let your eyes flutter shut, letting out a little moan of relief when Yuuji's free hand gently releases your cock. Your hips buck at the loss of stimulation, but ultimately, you're relieved. You let your thighs open wide and fall lax, unbothered to how absolutely debauched and utterly lewd you might look from Yuuji's point of view. Not that he'd care, anyways.
Lidded eyes watch the way your puffy rim swallows up the thick of his fingers, drooling and soft and oh-so-warm-- and, suddenly,
Yuuji gets an idea.
"Baby... baby," Yuuji practically purrs. Hesitantly, you lift your head to look down at him.
"'Need y'to be really, really good for me, okay? yeah?"
Yuuji tuts and coos when you drop your head back with a whine, thighs trembling and beginning to shut before he wrenches them open again.
"Oh, don't be like that, babe. S'just... just sit still, and I'll make you feel really good, okay? really good. Jus'..."
Yuuji doesn't wait for a reply-- instead, he spreads your thighs wide for easier access, slips his digits in just right and angles them so they dip against the soft of your sweet spot, and settles the thumb of his free hand against the silky skin of your perineum. Your cock twitches and jerks, dribbles of precome swelling at the tip in little pretty pearls.
He starts with light little taps, then small, tight circles-- then lastly, progresses to firm but gentle up and down petting motions against your perineum-- a weird, indescribably good feeling coiling deep in your gut and causing you to squirm. Meanwhile, his fingers lavish attention on your sweet spot from the inside as well, causing that same delicious feeling to intensify what feels like a thousand times more.
it feels so weird.
You try to buck away from the feeling but Yuuji just shushes you and applies a fraction more of pressure, not letting you escape the onslaught of weird, weird, so fucking weird but undeniably good sensation.
... Suddenly, another odd... but new sensation settles. Not in your tummy this time, but in your bladder.
"Yuu-- Yuuji, Yuuji--"
"Hmm?"
"G-Get it out-- get them o-out, need'ta, need t'pee, I th-ink, need--"
"No, no, sweetheart. You don't need to pee. S'not pee. It's working, you're close. S'okay, jus' let it happen, 'kay?"
Yuuji leans forwards to kiss you, his eyes fluttering shut, but you crane your neck away before he can land a successful kiss-- which, he grumbles at.
"I'm s-serious Yuuji, I ne-ed to pee, m'not fuckin' a-around--"
"Shut up n' listen to me, baby,"
And you do. Save for the occasional incoherent whines and cries.
So you sit there and take it. Just... just take it, despite this overwhelming pressure in your bladder, despite the waves of pleasure rolling off your spine, despite the over sensitivity of your hole and your cock and your body just begging for a break.
And you're so distracted by your own thoughts that when you do (finally fucking) squirt, it hits you hard. Really hard.
With a mangled shout your body curls in on itself, hands scrambling for Yuuji's shoulders as you try to force him away from you-- yet, he keeps up his gentle ministrations alllll the way through your orgasm.
It's like-- It's like that pressure in your bladder releases itself in a way that feels so fucking good, your sloppy, messy hole fluttering and clenching tight around his still pumping fingers, the muscles in your tummy tightening and contracting in such a satisfying way as you experience what doesn't feel... quite like an orgasm, but something different, and just as intense.
Something wet, something clear, but not quite as thick and sticky as come, but not pee-- shoots from your cock in messy spurts, soaking Yuuji's wrist and the sheets and leaving a little puddle on your tummy.
"O-Oh fuck, fu-uck--"
"Told you that'd feel good, hm?"
Gasping and heaving, you barely manage the beginnings of a sentence before your eyes flutter shut and you immediately pass out.
Just imagine Loser!boyfriend and hot!reader, where hot!reader legit is one of the most hottest guys you could ever met and then you look over to his fuckass loser of a boyfriend that he loves so much. Loser!boyfriend not realising how much of an effect he has on you, people wonder how this man bagged such a baddie all of a sudden??? Like bro has the hottest guy in the world and he’s acting like its not a big deal?!
Imagine Loser!boyfriend who loves it whenever you send him pics or videos of you riding a dildo and moaning out his name like a proper whore. Ass up face down moaning and whimpering in the sheets as you cum repeatedly on the custom silicone dick that had a resemblance to his own dick. His glasses fogging up as he fists his fat cock , Hot!reader mailing his loser boyfriend a picture of him fucking himself on a huge dildo whilst on a family vacation, which the picture would and WILL be used to master bait to in the toilet,
Since the poor boy cant feel your body against his he has to resort to pictures and videos of you and him when you two were getting spicy together outside your dads pool, fucking like rabbits till the sun raises and then sets. His cum flowing out of your abused hole but then he plugs you up so none of his seed can escape you.
Imagine Loser!boyfriend who basically worships the floor you walk on, sniffs your underwear, your clothes and gropes you whenever you and him are cuddling in bed, he cant help but want to stick his cock inside you whilst you two are visiting family together, you tell him he has to wait until you both get back home but he cant help it!! He has to cum in you so badlyy..you are just so fucking hot he cant help but come in his pants just thinking of you face down ass up arching your back and presenting your ass to him.
Imagine loser!boyfriend showing you all his favourite anime figure collection to you, hoping he wont get judged for such childish behaviour you surprisingly found it very cute, buying him new anime figures whenever you got the chance, and even sometimes dressing up for him in hid favourite anime characters outfit’s, just for him to rip it off you and fuck you till you couldn’t spell your own name, you would have to take hours just to try and get his cock soft, that mission would be impossible with you being in such an oufit, you do sometimes wonder why all the anime he watches are so sexual,
Saying things like “why are they showing so much skin?” And “do you like this kind of stuff honey?..” he would get nervous thinking you might take him as a weirdo but u only smiled “how about i dress up the same way?” Which only leads to you bring smothered in cum and having a gaping asshole for hours on end,
Besides the point he thinks hes so out of your league but you thought that same about him.
do you write for the manga yuus ? i love yuuta so so much but theres barely any x readers for him 🥹
I haven't read the manga...but I'll happily give an x male!reader instead
Out of all of the students at NRC, a few are more willing to date another male than others...
Out of all the students among those ones though, Leona cares the least. He likes what he likes, that's all that he cares about. Plus, it makes some of the court members back home upset. To him gender doesn’t matter, he just simply doesn’t care. If he likes a girl then he likes a girl. If he likes a guy then he likes a guy. He really doesn’t understand how people care about trivial things like that. Dont think that doesn’t mean he won’t protect you though. The minute someone looks at you weird, let alone make a comment, all hell breaks loose. You have to hold him back before he does anything regrettably, but that doesn’t mean he’s not glaring at the person the rest of the time.
“I’m not gonna sit around while they talk about you like that,” Leona scoffs before throwing an arm around your shoulders. He starts to lead you away but you can still see the irritated twitch of his tail behind him. “Whatever…let’s just go before I turn back. You’re making it up to me though.”
Rook is definitely more opened minded than most. He sees a sort of beauty in being able to date the same gender. He also can’t help that you’re amazing and everything he adores. He’ll spend hours citing poems and sonnets he wrote for you if you’d let him. Theres never a day where he’s not singing your praises. Nothing makes him happier then seeing his boyfriend all happy and blushing as he lists everything he adores about you. What’s even better is that he’ll gladly defend your honor towards anyone who’s says anything bad. It’ll take a few minutes to reassure you that he’s fine and won’t do anything but you both know he’s stalking them for a few days while plotting.
“What?” Rook looks at you in faux shock when you ask him about the guy that bothered you the other day. “Non! I have not been watching him from afar…it was just a confidence he fell down those stairs”
Jade definitely does not mind dating a guy at all. It’s pretty common for merfolk to dabble in dating the same genders…and other things. So he doesn’t see any shame in dating you. Instead, he shows you off in the way he usually does with things he’s interested in. He’ll always find a way to bring you up in conversations. It could be talking about the weather and somehow he ends up talking about your eyes and how they remind him of the sky. It’s annoying, to everyone else at least. Though that does mean he ropes you in to the trio’s schemes, much to Azul’s dismay. It also means that no one would dare talk bad about you unless they want a six foot something eel looming behind them.
“Oh,” Jade tilted his head with that usual smirk he always had. He simply glanced from you to the poor boy that decided to open his mouth. “You didn’t tell me you two were friends…unless you aren’t?”
Trey also doesn’t care about gender. Instead, he focuses on the values a person has and determines from there if he likes them. He also didn’t really except much considering NRC is an all boys school, which limits the options if you’re not open minded. That’s why he focused on character and yours stood out to him the most. He spends most of his days happy that he’ll be able to take you home someday and introduce you to his family. Which always ends up in him making sweets that you like…which caused Heartslaybul to eat the same thing for five days in a row. Riddle was not happy but Trey couldn’t care less. He’s just wondering how you’ll react when he sees you later and showers you in affection. He’s sweet but that also changes the moment he hears something bad being said about you. He’ll drop everything to go and find you before confronting the kid.
“Is this him?” Trey asks as he glances back at you. He sighs when he as you nod before turning back to the kid. “Perhaps we should talk. I think there’s some things we can go over…”
how jjk men would react to catboy!reader being overly clingy
contains: sukuna | nanami | gojo | veerrrryyy short drabble
sleepily stumbling into ryomen sukuna's throne room, you find him sitting with his legs spread, idly toying with the hem of his black kimono. trudging over to him, you kneel down at the front of his chair, planting your face right into his left thigh. it's warm, meaty, and you can feel the hard layer of muscle occasionally shifting underneath the plush layer of fat sukuna had gained from becoming less tyrant-oriented and more you-oriented.
"brat, what did i say about touching, huh?" he grunts. when you don't move and only shift closer with a soft mrrr, he brings his hand up to your head, gently scratching that sweet spot between your ears. your head shifts upwards, seeking more of that contact, and sukuna can't resist.
"up." he commands, and when you comply, he settles you on his thighs, perching you on his lap. bringing your head down to hook your chin over his shoulder, he rubs the nape of your neck, much slower and softer than anyone else had seen the king of curses be. he feels your body going slack. "good kitty, back to sleep." he drawls.
he plans on putting you back in your bed the moment your eyes are asleep, and having uraume watch over you instead. he can't be bothered.
padding over to kento nanami's spot on the couch, you stand in front of him as he reads his book, one leg crossed over the other.
"nanamin," you start, yawning mid-way through your sentence. "uncross your legs."
he sighs through his nose, the fabric of his beige slacks shifting as he uncrosses his legs. you climb atop him, and he lets out a quiet grunt, his arms circling your middle as he reads his book over your shoulder.
"my mouth hurts." you murmur, too low for even someone with heightened senses like nanami to hear. "nanami, my mouth—"
nanami sighs again, and drags a hand down the lower half of his face "teeth." he interjects, positioning your head right in front of his face. he puts his book down on the arm of the couch, using the index finger and thumb of the same hand to push up your upper lip and inspect your canines.
"you're fine. i told you earlier not to chew on those bones—now look at you." he replies after inspecting your teeth, though the way he's started rubbing your back says that he's trying to comfort you—no matter how inefficient your eating and chewing habits may be.
satoru gojo's sitting at his desk grading papers when the door opens with a gentle creak.
"there he is!" he shouts, a huge grin spreading over his face. he opens his arms for you, beckoning you into his lap. when you sit on him, back against his warm chest, it's like the stack of papers in front of completely disappears. all his focus is on you.
he pampers you, bombarding you with questions. how was your day? did you sleep well? hungry? thirsty? hot? cold?
"tired."
"ahh," he chuckles with a grin. "then i guess i'll let you sleep, pretty kitty." he says, softer now, and leaning back in his chair to accommodate for you.
he rocks you back and forth gently, letting your heavy eyelids close shut, not stopping until he hears the familiar sound of your soft snoring.
a/n: let me know if i should do toji , hiromi , geto and ijichi vers too
Warning: pseudocest/incest, omega Bruce, Alpha (male) reader, dub-con/non-con, Bruce can run a hand through your hair and tug on it as well, oral sex, etc.
Bruce doesn’t trust many alphas enough to allow them to enter his nest. Especially while he’s in heat.
You, of course, are one of those many. Unfortunately, you also happen to be his oldest son.
—
A loud stream of motor-like purring reverberated through the nesting room. Bruce’s hands were curled into your hair, fingers running over your scalp in all the motherly fashions only being in heat could summon out of him.
Situated between his thighs was you—nose deep in his cunt, hair stuck to your forehead as sweat collected at your brow, and your clothes lost in some corner of the room. Taking care of dear old dad.
It wasn’t like an alpha’s knot, that you knew. So it would only keep him satisfied for an hour or two before he started pawing at your cock again.
But, the reason he trusts you is because of the fact that you have never even tried to knot him. And you won’t be betraying that trust now.
You ever so gently slide your tongue into your dad’s cunt, barely restraining a purr of your own when his hips follow your mouth.
It’s just you and him. You’re not about to ruin that just because your dick is hard.
You nuzzle into his hand, allowing yourself to purr into it, when he slides a hand from your curls down to cup your nape and jawline, spreading his legs further.
Yeah, you’re not about to change it all.
—-
Bruce wants you to knot him REAL bad. Every time he has a heat he literally invites you to take care of him and you think he doesn’t want you to knot him but he’s sitting there like, “Why is my alpha son not making hot sweaty love to me right now this instant?” Like, he’s feeling a little insecure outside of heat brain since he thinks you don’t WANT him and just come out of the kindness of your heart or some shit.
SYNOPSIS (of part). In this life, you're an ordinary researcher and journalist who started having dreams that felt all too real and familiar, ranging from a large winery and vineyard in Mondstadt to the harsh embrace of winter in Snezhnaya, each dream including different men whose faces you couldn't see nor recognize.
PAIRING/S. dottore x gn!reader, zhongli x gn!reader
CONTENT. VERY ANTICLIMATIC, fluff, mentions of experiments, traveler goes by they/them, dottore is a warning itself, VERY ooc and potential grammar errors! (this was written before luna vii!)
WORD COUNT. 4183 words
WEAVED MASTERLIST / NAVIGATION
PREVIOUS LIFE
In this life, you’re a renowned researcher and journalist who seeks truths and stories worth telling.
Your current life was, by all appearances, ordinary enough: long days spent between trapping yourself in your humble home writing a new article, whatever fieldwork your latest assignment demanded, quiet evenings with tea gone cold beside stacks of notes, and the steady comfort of routines you had built for yourself one careful habit at a time.
You had work, a reputation, and a life that made sense on paper, even if it often felt a little too quiet when the day was done.
Then, you started having specific dreams.
At first, they were easy to dismiss.
Everyone dreamed, after all.
Some people dreamed of falling. Others dreamed of flying. Some dreamed of places they had never seen or conversations they had never had, only to wake up and laugh at the absurdity of it all before continuing on with their lives.
You dreamed of something akin to memories that did not belong to you.
You dreamed of lanterns floating above a harbor bathed in gold as a man with amber eyes stood beside you and spoke with a patience that made centuries feel insignificant.
You dreamed of arguments inside a library so vast that it felt endless, where green eyes watched you with equal parts exasperation and fondness while books and notes were scattered across every available surface.
You dreamed of rain tapping softly against windows as carefully written letters rested in your lap, the elegant handwriting upon them somehow more familiar than your own.
You dreamed of vineyards stretching endlessly beneath Mondstadt's skies, of firelight dancing across wooden floors, of a home that smelled faintly of grapes and wine and cedarwood.
And sometimes—
you dreamed of snow.
Not the gentle, beautiful snow, but the cold, suffocating snow that buried the world beneath white silence while somewhere in the distance a pair of crimson eyes watched you with a terrifying sort of patience.
Those were the dreams that always woke you, left your heart racing and your hands trembling beneath your blankets long after morning arrived.
As one of Teyvat's most respected journalists and natural researchers, perhaps you should have been fascinated.
Instead, you were afraid.
Because dreams should fade.
Yours only became clearer.
You knew the streets of Fontaine before ever stepping foot into the nation.
You knew exactly how many steps led toward a particular archive inside the Akademiya despite never having visited it before.
You knew the taste of Osmanthus wine despite never drinking it.
You knew the sound the rain in Fontaine made against the windows of the Palais Mermonia.
You knew the exact location of a hidden trail near Dawn Winery.
And perhaps most troubling of all—
you knew creatures that modern records insisted had never existed at all.
It was your work that eventually led you to the Akademiya.
Ironically enough, it was also your work that led you directly toward the beginning of everything.
The book had already become something of a legend among scholars, adventurers, and natural researchers alike. Few texts documented Teyvat's wildlife with such precision and care. Even fewer managed to capture the personality of every creature they encountered rather than merely listing their behaviors and habitats like specimens pinned beneath glass.
The author had written as though every fox, every bird, every Vishap and fungus and tiger possessed a story worth telling.
The author wrote as though understanding something was impossible without first loving it.
The book had become required reading in certain Akademiya courses because of its accuracy alone.
You bought your own copy on the second day, then another for annotation purposes.
Eventually you found yourself reading it late into the night.
Then rereading it.
Then memorizing passages without meaning to.
Because the more you read, the less it felt like studying a stranger’s work and the more it felt like standing too close to something you were never meant to find.
The notes were too intimate for a simple field journal. They lingered on small mercies, on the way a creature’s breathing changed when it was frightened, on the exact moment curiosity outweighed fear, on the quiet sort of patience that turned observation into care. There was warmth in the margins, in the pauses between facts, in the way the author seemed unable to keep themselves from noticing beauty even while trying to remain objective.
And somewhere along the way, that tenderness began to feel unsettling.
Not because it was wrong, but because it felt familiar.
The book ended abruptly in Snezhnaya.
The final pages detailed snow foxes and mountain beasts and birds adapted to survive impossible winters before suddenly stopping altogether.
No final chapter, no farewell, nor an author’s final note.
Only the publisher's note attached to the very end.
The author's manuscript was discovered abandoned near an old campsite deep within Snezhnaya's wilderness following reports of their death due to illness.
The body itself had never been recovered.
Only the journal remained.
The final page also contained an illustration commissioned by the publisher using older descriptions and surviving sketches found among the author's belongings.
You stared at the image for a very long time.
The face wasn't yours.
And yet—
it wasn't entirely unfamiliar either.
The eyes looked wrong.
The hairstyle was different.
The clothes belonged to another era entirely.
But there was something undeniably familiar about the expression staring back at you from the page.
Enough to make your chest tighten
Enough to make you close the book.
And enough to make you stop sleeping entirely.
The dreams only worsened after that, to the point where instead of dreaming–
You started remembering.
You remembered standing beside the harbor in Liyue while lanterns drifted into the sky.
"I am a patient person."
You woke with tears in your eyes.
The following night brought another.
Books.
Arguments.
Green eyes narrowing at you from across a table.
"I want you to succeed. Just not like this."
Another.
Rain against marble.
Letters folded carefully by hand.
Blue eyes watching you from the audience.
Another.
Firelight.
Warmth.
A quiet voice beside a fireplace.
"Welcome home."
You stopped sleeping after that.
The Traveler found you in Sumeru shortly afterward.
Though “found” was perhaps too simple a word for it; the two of you first crossed paths during one of your research excursions beyond the city, when a routine investigation into local wildlife and unusual environmental disturbances happened to overlap with whatever errand had brought them to the Akademiya’s outskirts.
What began as a brief exchange of information quickly turned into a longer conversation than either of you had expected, especially once you realized that the Traveler knew far more about the places in your dreams than any stranger reasonably should.
By the time you parted ways, you had already agreed to share notes, and from there the acquaintance deepened into something steadier.
Which brings you to the present.
"You look terrible," Paimon blurted out immediately, floating around you to check up on you.
You smiled tiredly. "...Thank you."
"I wasn't trying to be mean!"
The Traveler studied you carefully. "You haven't been sleeping."
You hesitated, then sighed. "I know things I shouldn't know."
Paimon tilted her head. "Like what?"
You looked down at your hands.
"I know the exact number of steps leading toward the western archives in the House of Daena."
"...Okay?"
"I know where a hidden cave near Dragonspine is located despite never going there."
The Traveler remained silent.
"And I know someone named Zhongli promised me he'd wait for me."
Neither of them spoke.
Because unlike you—
they knew that name.
Eventually the Traveler asked quietly,
"Have you ever met him before?"
"No."
You paused.
"...At least I don't think I have."
The encounter happened days later.
You saw him before he saw you.
Or perhaps—
before he allowed you to realize he had already seen you.
You almost thought that was the Zhongli in your dreams.
Before you could approach him, you stopped when a thought occurred to you.
Snow.
Chains.
Laboratories.
A locked room.
The smell of antiseptic.
The sound of rain against metal.
Your knees buckled.
The Traveler caught you immediately.
"Hey—!"
You stared at the man standing across the street.
No.
Not a man.
Something worse.
Something your body remembered long before your mind did.
Recognition flickered in crimson eyes.
"...What a coincidence." You hear him speak, facing your direction at last.
Your breathing stopped.
You knew that voice.
You knew those eyes.
You knew that smile.
"Dottore."
The name escaped your lips without permission.
For the first time—
he smiled.
The next few moments passed in chaos.
Fatui soldiers appeared seemingly from nowhere.
The Traveler drew their weapon.
Paimon shouted something you didn't hear.
You panicked as chaos ensued, with Dottore coming closer and closer as you’re all surrounded.
And then—
Nahida appeared.
The rest was nothing but a blur. You remembered running with the Traveler and Paimon after Nahida ordered you to do so, running through the forests to get away from a man who you had never met.
And yet, your entire consciousness, your entire body are screaming at you to get away from him as far as possible, as if you really knew him.
When safety finally came, the three of you eventually met Nahida again in a different and safer location.
But not without discovering important information.
“I was able to make him go away, but only for a while.” The archon spoke. “I immediately assumed that he came back to Sumeru again for trouble, but… It seems it’s much worse than I thought.”
She looked at you with something that resembled sorrow, as if she had learned something from her encounter with Dottore.
"...He changed something he never should have touched."
You looked up, wondering why she had looked at you when she said those words.
"What do you mean?"
Nahida hesitated, then spoke softly, "There is no easy way to say this, but… Dottore did something to you–to your life.”
Your eyes widen slightly, a pang hitting your heart.
“...What do you mean?” You asked, dreading to hear her answer.
Nahida thought about her answer more, trying to think of a better way to gently reveal it.
“...He tied your life to Irminsul."
The room fell silent.
The Traveler's expression shifted first, confusion giving way to alarm.
"...Tied their life?"
Nahida nodded once.
"Not in the way most people are born into the world. This was deliberate, one that involves modification. It’s as if he made a wound in the tree's memory and then hidden it so deeply that even the world itself kept trying to correct it."
You stared at her.
Your throat felt too tight to speak.
You briefly recall the traveler telling you about Irminsul when they told you about their adventure back when they first arrived in Sumeru, so you knew that whatever Dottore did to you, it was this serious.
It was hard to grasp it.
“...I-I don’t understand.” You stammered. “I haven’t even met Dottore. I don’t recall seeing him except in my dreams–”
You then paused for a moment.
Could it be that these dreams are more than just?
As if reading your mind, Nahida's gaze lowered for a moment before lifting again, gentler now, but no less grave.
"Your dreams may be memories from the past.” Nahida theorized. “But all Dottore told me is this: every time you died, Irminsul simply wrote you back into existence."
The Traveler went still.
"...Reincarnation?"
Nahida shook her head.
"No."
Her expression darkened, and for the first time since you had met her, there was something cold in her voice.
"Repetition."
The word settled over you like a blade.
Not reincarnation.
Not a blessing.
Not fate.
A loop.
A cruel, deliberate loop that had been forced upon you by someone who had decided your life was something to be studied, adjusted, and repeated until it suited him.
Nahida watched you carefully, as though she could see the moment the grief inside you hardened into something sharper.
"After hearing Dottore’s explanation, I decided to look deeper into Irminsul’s records and found traces of the alteration," she admitted quietly. "At first, it seemed like a distortion caused by time, but the pattern was too precise. Too intentional. Dottore had not merely observed your lives, but rather arranged them."
The Traveler's jaw tightened.
“He tampered with the Irminsul to make them not be able to pass on?”
Nahida gave a small, grim nod.
"Yes. He left marks in places he should never have been able to reach. Of course, it’s not enough to destroy the tree's memory–he made sure to force it into a cycle. It’s enough to make your endings unstable and your beginnings repeat."
Your hands curled into fists.
"So he did this to me."
Nahida's expression softened, but she did not lie.
"Yes."
The word hurt more than you expected.Not because you had not already suspected it.
Because hearing it spoken aloud made it real.
The Traveler stepped closer to you then, voice low and careful.
"Can it be fixed?"
Nahida looked toward the window, toward the distant branches of Irminsul that no ordinary eye could see.
"I believe so," she said. "But if we want to undo what he did, we need to go to the source. Irminsul itself has to be shown the truth of what was changed."
You swallowed.
"Then we go."
Nahida turned back to you.
There was no hesitation in her eyes now, only resolve.
"Yes," she said. "We go together."
The decision came in pieces.
In the Traveler's quiet promise that they would help you reclaim what had been stolen.
In Nahida's determination to face the wound Dottore had left behind, no matter how deep it ran.
In your own voice, shaking only once before steadying, when you said that if your life had been forced into a cage of repetition, then you wanted out.
You wanted your endings back.
You wanted your choices back.
You wanted every life that had been taken from you to finally belong to you again.
And so, when you finally stood before Irminsul itself, the memories of your past lives began to surface at last.
It wasn’t the usual vague impressions or half-formed dreams you’ve had.
Instead, it came as everything all at once.
The life beneath Liyue's lanterns, where amber eyes and quiet promises waited beside the harbor.
The life in Sumeru, where green eyes argued with you over books and knowledge until the hours slipped away unnoticed.
The life in Fontaine, where rain tapped against tall windows and carefully folded letters carried words you had once treasured.
The life at Dawn Winery, where vineyards stretched beneath Mondstadt's skies and firelight warmed a home that had felt like it would last forever.
And of course, your devastating fate in Snezhnaya, where snow fell endlessly and crimson eyes watched from the white silence with a patience that had always felt too heavy to name.
You remembered every name you had ever answered to, every face that had once smiled at you across a lifetime, every promise made beneath lantern light or rain or snow, every grief you had buried so deeply that it had become part of your bones.
You remembered the warmth of hands you had long since lost, the sound of voices calling for you from worlds that no longer existed, the ache of watching centuries pass while carrying the weight of people who had loved you in different ages and different forms.
You remembered joy so vivid it hurt, sorrow so old it had turned quiet, and the terrible, unbearable truth that you had not simply dreamed these lives—you had lived them, over and over again, until the sum of all those memories became too heavy to bear.
In that moment, the decision to purge yourself in Irminsul felt less like a choice than a necessity.
"I want it to end."
Nahida looked at you.
"And do you understand what that entails?"
You nodded.
"No more cycles."
No more waking up as someone else.
No more forgetting.
No more unfinished goodbyes.
No more becoming someone Dottore could chase forever.
The Traveler stepped closer.
"...Are you sure?"
You smiled sadly.
"I think I've lived enough lives for one person. It's time for me to purge myself if it means bringing peace."
But Nahida knew there's another choice.
You did not need to erase your existence nor your memories.
"I think what you can do is to erase only the experiment." Nahida suggested thoughtfully.
It was there when she started mentioning the chains Dottore had forced around your soul, explaining everything carefully.
Irminsul remembered everything recorded within the world.
Dottore had taken advantage of that.
Using forbidden research and knowledge he never should have possessed, he had essentially convinced Irminsul that your existence was unfinished.
Incomplete.
Something that needed correcting.
And so every time you died—
the world simply rewrote you back into existence.
Not the same person.
Not the same memories.
But always you.
Always close enough for Dottore to find and to try again.
The solution was simple in theory.
Terrifying in practice.
The connection had to be severed.
Not your existence.
Not your memories.
Only the foreign thread tying your soul back to Irminsul's roots.
Suddenly, Nahida held your hand, her small fingers warm and steady against yours as she looked up at you with a sadness far older than her face should have carried.
“You should not have to purge yourself from Irminsul to fix everything,” she said softly, her voice gentle but unwavering.
“It is not worth losing every precious memory people have of you. Your laughter, your kindness, the moments they shared with you—those matter. You matter. We will find another way.”
For a long moment, you said nothing, the weight of everything you had been ready to sacrifice pressing against your chest until it hurt.
Then, slowly, the fight drained out of you. If there was another path, one that did not demand your disappearance from the hearts of everyone who loved you, then perhaps you could bear to take it.
With a shaky breath, you gave in and accepted her alternative at last.
The process took hours, but you trust Nahida to complete it all as you stayed by her side, wanting to end the cycle that you did not ask for.
Time felt strange near Irminsul.
And when it was over—
the silence felt different.
Lighter.
"...It's complete." She said, looking at you with a smile. "Consider this your final life."
For the first time since Snezhnaya—
your future belonged to you again.
The world itself barely changed.
Mondstadt remained Mondstadt.
Fontaine remained Fontaine.
Liyue remained Liyue.
Sumeru remained Sumeru.
Only one thing changed.
Dottore lost.
“And you don’t have to worry about Dottore anymore,” she had said, her voice gentle but certain. “I have made sure he will never find you again in this life.”
You had stared at her for a long moment before asking, “And after this?”
Her expression had softened when she answered, “There will be no next life of yours for him to hunt down.”
No next reincarnation to chase.
No next opportunity to try again.
The chain had finally broken.
The others never knew.
Alhaitham never learned that the thesis hidden inside his home had once belonged to the person who had loved him enough to keep arguing anyway.
Neuvillette never learned that the singer whose letters he still kept had once walked beneath another nation's skies with memories that did not belong to her.
Diluc never learned that his spouse, buried beneath Mondstadt's soil, had once stood beneath Fontaine's lights or Sumeru's trees.
And Zhongli—
Zhongli never learned that he had haunted another man's obsessions for centuries without ever knowing it.
Life moved forward.
As it always did.
Soon after you departed with Nahida and decided to join Traveler and Paimon with their endeavors for a short while. During such endeavors, you worked on an annotated edition of the adventurer's—or rather, your first life’s—journal.
By the time you departed with Traveler and Paimon to go back to your home, you decided to publish it.
It became one of the most celebrated releases in modern academic history.
This time, instead of a rushed end, your annotated edition included a complete account of Snezhnaya and Sumeru’s Aranara, pieced together with the Traveler’s own accounts and observations, so that no region or creature was left unfinished.
The journal itself was already widely known by then, and thanks to the traveler’s part in the book, it became even more famous.
Sometimes journalists asked what inspired you to revisit it at all.
You never knew how to answer.
How could you explain that it felt less like republishing a famous work, and more like finally giving its author a voice that had been waiting to be heard?
Soon after, work brought you to Liyue Harbor.
The city was beautiful.
Not in the overwhelming way Fontaine often was with its grand performances and polished marble, nor in the scholarly way Sumeru carried itself beneath towering trees and endless knowledge.
Liyue felt different.
Warm.
Familiar.
Comforting in a way you couldn't explain.
You found yourself wandering through the harbor longer than necessary, listening absentmindedly to merchants advertising their wares, children laughing as they chased one another through the streets, and the distant creak of ships resting peacefully against the docks.
The scent of tea drifted from nearby stalls.
Lanterns swayed gently overhead.
And for some reason, your chest hurts, remembering your first life.
…Is he still here?
It was enough to make you slow your steps, to make you feel as though things are not quite done.
Until you heard it.
"...You seem lost."
The voice came from beside you.
Calm.
Steady.
Familiar.
You turned.
And the world stopped.
Amber eyes met yours.
Golden.
Ancient.
Patient.
And suddenly—
you remembered.
Lantern Rite.
Osmanthus wine.
Long conversations that stretched late into the evening.
Promises exchanged beneath golden skies.
The harbor.
The sea.
The quiet certainty that no matter how far your travels took you, there would always be someone waiting for your return.
Your breath caught in your throat.
The man standing before you simply looked at you quietly.
Not surprised.
Not confused.
Not questioning why tears had suddenly gathered in the eyes of a stranger he had supposedly never met.
Instead, he looked at you as though he had been expecting this moment for a very, very long time.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
The noise of the harbor faded into the background.
Everything disappeared until it felt as though the entire world had narrowed down to the space between the two of you.
Your expression softened immediately.
Because somehow—
despite everything—
you knew.
And somehow, he did too.
The corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly.
Not quite a smile.
Not yet.
But close.
The quiet sort of expression worn by someone finally setting down a burden they had carried for far longer than they should have.
"...I suppose," he said after a while, his voice softer than you remembered and yet exactly the same all at once, "that my memory has not betrayed me after all."
You stared at him.
Your heart hurt.
Not with grief.
Not anymore.
With something gentler.
Something warmer.
Something that had waited patiently beneath countless lives and countless names and countless endings.
He glanced toward the harbor then.
Toward the sea stretching beyond Liyue's shores.
Toward the horizon where an adventurer had once promised she would return after seeing the world.
Toward the place where he had watched countless ships come and go while waiting for one person who never came home.
When he looked back at you, there was warmth in his eyes.
Recognition.
Relief.
Patience.
The kind of patience only someone who had spent centuries learning how to wait could possess.
"My name is Zhongli."
The words were simple.
An introduction.
A beginning.
And yet somehow—
it felt like a homecoming.
Your eyes stung immediately.
Because once upon a time, long before journals and libraries and operas and vineyards and snow-covered laboratories—
you had known that name better than your own.
You accepted the hand he offered you.
Warm.
Steady.
Real.
"It is nice to meet you, Mister Zhongli."
The now retired Archon smiled then.
Not politely.
Not formally.
But with the same quiet smile he had worn centuries ago when a young adventurer with ink-stained fingers and impossible dreams had promised they would return once they had finished seeing the world.
This time—
there were no experiments waiting in the snow.
No stolen endings.
No lives cut short before their time.
No unfinished promises left lingering between one lifetime and the next.
Only choices.
Only tomorrow.
Only a future that finally belonged to you.
And perhaps—
if both of you wished it—
a beginning.
Not another long time of waiting.
Not another reincarnation.
Not fate correcting itself.
Simply—
the first chapter of a story that was finally allowed to reach its ending.
PREVIOUS LIFE
AUTHOR'S NOTE. thank you so much for reading and showing your support for this series! if i have to be honest, this part is truly the most difficult to write about. this is namely because of how i was trying to think of a good way to solve the reader's cycle without a major battle (when version vii was released, i was very tempted to change the ending–but then again, i don't have time to actually go through the entire nod-krai archon quests without going insane)–so this part is quite anticlimatic, if not rushed (?)
however, i also intended for the reader to not actually face dottore in a battle/confrontation, simply because i think it'd also be a slap to dottore's face that despite all he did to make sure reader's life goes back to square one again to get them, there was not one single life where he finally had the reader, even their last where they then spend the rest of their life with zhongli.
anyway! thank you again for the love and support. i really enjoyed writing this series and i hoped you guys enjoyed reading it too! i especially loved reading each of your comments (which i'll reply soon).
cw: gender neutral reader, vague Pantalone x reader, vague Dottolone, dead dove, heavy angst, power imbalance, physical + emotional abuse, punishment, suicide attempt, physical disability (immobilization), PTSD, past trauma, isolation, size difference, face slapping, choking, manhandling, slow burn, childhood friends, Pierro is so done, Sandrone mentioned, Sandrone is cool.
Could he stop his favorite angel from turning into a seelie in time?
Zandik barely used the dorm provided by the Akademiya anymore, even the bullies stopped looking for him in the halls. The little patch of grassland next to the river in the Devantaka mountain replaced his creaky bed. One of the main reasons for him to speed here after class everyday was to study the khaenri'ah machines scattered around.
And you.
For the first time ever, someone actually took the initiative to approach him with good intentions. It baffled Zandik why you were willing to assist him in his research secretly, assembling the ruin guard when he wasn't looking or the missing parts seemed to find themselves. Not to mention when he finally caught you red handed two months ago, your only answer was to cheer him up since he was the “grumpiest” one you saw in the research team. The most perplexing part, one he was still trying to figure out, was your advanced knowledge about these ruins. You claimed to simply be a “rebellious kid who fled home” and the Devantaka mountain just happened to be your favorite camp spot. A laughable attempt at lying. Zandik even considered teaching you to lie better after finding out what all this really meant. Nonetheless, he decided to play along for the time being.
It was the middle of the night when Zandik jolted awake. The mountain was quiet, saved for the cricket chirps and his ragged breathing. Glancing at you from the corner of his eyes, you were still sound in your sleeping bag, fireflies hovering above your face. He shooed them off before getting out of his own sleeping bag. Walking past the extinguished camp fire and messy study notes, Zandik reached the river. The full moon’s reflection stared back at him. He sat down and replayed the dream in his head. The nightmares were getting worse and worse despite him not encountering anything dramatic recently. He was sure you could do something about it, given your wide range of knowledge on just about anything. But then again, why expose his weakness?
His train of thought was cut off by the sound of grass rustling from behind.
“Nightmares are to be taken seriously, you know?”
You settled down next to him, extending your legs to dip them into the water. He just ignored you and kept staring at the moon’s reflection. It was slightly distorted due to the ripples. You kept on talking anyways. His unresponsiveness was nothing new.
“You should have told me earlier. I have some herbs for it.”
Zandik muttered under his breath.
“Just some stupid dream anyways.”
To his surprise, you reacted strongly to the non-committal answer. An accusing finger pointed at his face.This pose usually indicated you were about to go on a ramble and he was prepared for it, a bit excited for the new knowledge. His subtle little smirk went unnoticed.
“You should know, many important prophecies were told through dreams, either implanted by the angels or the heavenly principle at the time. They are also deeply connected to one’s fate as they are a medium to interact with Irminsul.”
You wiggle your finger.
“So, whatever bad things you dreamt of, absolutely look out for them in the future.”
Giving the water a kick one last time, you stood up and looked down at him.
“I’m gonna go make you some medicine. Be a good one and don’t you dare ditch like last time.”
Zandik rolled his eyes.
“Tsk.”
The thought of returning to the sleeping bag made his skin crawl, so he lied about wanting to sit by the river until the medicine kicked in. Not that Zandik was having so many nightmares that the sight alone haunted him. You did not need to know that.
“Hm, that's the Capricorn.”
Your finger pointed at the starlit sky. Zandik tilted his head a bit, trying to see the constellation.
“I see it. Alright, you win.”
“Cool! That means you’ll have to hold up your end of the deal.”
He let out a sign, still looking at the stars.
“Yeah, fine. We’ll go to the Akademiya tomorrow after my class ends.”
He didn't expect to lose the game this soon. Constellation spotting was a simple game you made up back when you got your ankle sprained, and the nightly exploration was cancelled for the day. Chasing after a shroomboar because it stole your bread mid dinner wasn't your brightest idea.
Something landed on his shoulder. Tearing his gaze away from the sky, he was met with the sight of your closed eyes. Despite not taking the sleeping medicine, you had fallen asleep before him. Zandik could feel the medicine starting to kick in too. The stars became blurry and the familiar droopy feeling urged him to lie down. With a hand holding your head in place, Zandik pulled the both of you down, hitting the grass with a soft thud. When his eyes closed, he hoped your lifeless eyes wouldn't stare back at him in his dream anymore.
౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ •✸•⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ
It was too late to realize he could get expelled for this. The Akademiya handbook explicitly stated that smuggling a non-scholar into their facilities was considered a serious security breach. But you were already standing in front of the House of Daena’s main entrance. You looked ridiculous in his uniform. The sleeves were comically long, covering past your hands. Only his hat (he did not let you borrow this) fit perfectly fine on your head, everything else almost brought a laugh out of him. Although, this made him a bit conscious about his uncomfortable height.
His hand gripped your shoulder while you browsed the enormous collection of books. Zandik let go of you once and you managed to get into a fight over a book with a senior. Thankfully, you found a new fixation on the ancient Teyvat book section. Temporary peace was achieved for now.
He leaned against the tall shelves, trying his best to ignore the occasional stares from scholars passing by. This was the first time the notorious freak of the Akademiya was seen with a person after all. You were too occupied with the books next to him to know your ridiculous attire was also silently being judged. He felt a tug on his arm.
“That one.”
You simply pointed at a book on a particular high spot. He only needed to turn his body half way, reached his arm out a bit then handed it to you. Zandik managed to glance at the cover.
“ ‘Hymns of the Far North’? I never knew you were interested in folklore.”
“Well, my um… parents told me this story as a historical event.”
Instead of taking it, you wordlessly opened the book and used his hand like a holder. His eyes slightly twitched. You kept talking anyways.
“The First Angel, Koitar, was the origin of the seelies. She and the voyager formed a very deep bond. This went against the rule that angels were created to love all beings equally. And so, the angel race was punished by getting turned into seelies. Any angel who falls in love will be stripped of their mind and body.”
Zandik was silent for a moment, taking all of the information in. His other hand came up to flip a page.
“Hm, I still stand by my point about it being a folklore. There isn't much evidence to support these claims.”
He did not think you took that personally. Your expression just became oddly melancholic.
Zandik quietly applauded himself for choosing the Akademiya’s garden as the next point of interest. It was easier to avoid people as rarely anyone came here except for the gardeners on their shift. Not only that, you were very keen on plants and herbs so he was left alone to rest while you did your thing with them. Note to self after today: never agree to any of your bets from now on.
Sitting comfortably under a tree, he watched as you played around at the nearby flower bed. The scenery wasn't much different from the mountain except for the exotic species being present. Although, somehow, the vegetation was livelier than usual today. They had that lush green color Zandik had never seen before except in the Devantaka mountain. The floras seemed to sway to your movements as well. This was another weird phenomenon he had been mulling over. The botanical life in the Devantaka mountain and now this garden, was greatly improved due to your arrival. Perhaps, you were hiding a dendro vision. But then again, you did not even use it during dangerous situations nor acknowledge the phenomenon. Could it be that-
“What do you think? I did a pretty good job, huh?”
A flower crown was placed on his head. He did not notice you had come to join him under the shade. His hand quickly held the crown in place when a gush of wind passed through, threatening to blow it off. Unfortunately, your question was never answered because a gardener spotted the two of you. He shouted.
“Hey! You kids can't just pluck those flowers like that!”
Before you could think, Zandik pulled you up and started running in the opposite direction. He took back his previous self applause.
It was late afternoon by the time you two visited Pardis Dhyai, the last destination. You sprinted straight to the green house, dragging Zandik along by the hand. The paper bag containing you two’s half-eaten lunch slipped out of his hold but he caught it on time. In the past, running at this capacity could have had him at the brink of exhaustion. Spending time exploring in the mountain with you for the past two months had somewhat increased his endurance. He was not only able to control his breath but also snatched his oversized coat you were wearing and yanked you back to a halt. You got scolded just right outside the green house’s gate.
“Stop being a maniac for a second, will you?! At least finish these damn pita pockets I bought.”
Fatigue was clear in his voice. His hands gestured at the paper bag dramatically. Feeling a bit guilty, you reached in to take out your portion then hand him his.
“Sorry.”
Zandik wordlessly dragged you by the shoulder and pressed you down to sit against the gate. He followed suit with a thud. The two of you munched on as the orange hue in the sky gradually turned more purple.
“I had a lot of fun today.”
“Mhm.”
“You think I should enroll?”
“You’ll regret it.”
“How so? I bet it's much more interesting than the mountain.”
“It’s not.”
Your pita pocket was almost finished. You scrunched the edge of the paper wrap with two fingers.
“Did you have fun today?”
Zandik fixed his gaze on your fiddling hand.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ •✸•⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ
Dottore is a man of odd habits. Not many people know of them and they do not fit in any standard human behaviors. One such widely rumored is his impulse to visit the national garden in the dead of the night. Tonight is no different.
The garden used to be the Fatui’s private property until being gifted to the public by the Tsaritsa. It was a most unexpected gift, as the people did not know Sumeru botanic life could grow here. From the Nilotpala Lotus of the Devantaka mountain to the Viparyas, the frost somehow never reaches the land but the moon always shines the brightest there.
In the middle of the garden lies the tallest tree, where he will be spending the next hours under it. The branches are twisted in a way that looks like they're hugging the moon. Dottore places his steps carefully not to trample on the small patches of padisarahs surrounding its foot. They emit a lovely faint white glow at night. Just as he is about to settle into his usual position, heavy footsteps approach.
“It seems we had the same idea to come here.”
Pierro stands behind him, not too far away from the tree either. Dottore doesn't respond, arms folded. Their relationship has been tense for the last couple of decades. Letting out a heavy sigh, the older man sits down on the bench right at the tree base.
“How’s your search project in the desert going?”
“Nothing worthy of report.”
“My troops are always available if any difficulties arise.”
“No need.”
౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ •✸•⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ
This was the first time Zandik saw you sick. Not after showering in the cold forest rain or accidentally eating raw fish, you came down with a fever the day after the Akademiya tour.
He had just come back from class and sprinted here, expected to be greeted by your nagging voice. Instead, you were lying eyes closed under a large tree, borrowing its shade to hide from the sun. It was out of your habit to be napping during the day. Zandik cautiously walked over and kneeled down, pressing the back of his hand on your forehead.
“Oh, hi Zandik.”
“Stay still. I'm making you some medicine.”
You felt the familiar Akademiya fabric draped over your body. The last thing you saw with your blurry vision before falling asleep again was Zandik's figure crouching down near the camp fire, heating up a pot. There was a faint memory where you were briefly called to wake up and bitter liquid was forced down your throat.
Stars had already littered the sky by the time you opened your eyes. Turning your head to the side, you were met with Zandik's back. Open books and messily written notes, some crumbled, some not, scattered around his sitting figure. The scratching sound from his writing filled the silent space. You managed to take a little peek at it from behind.
“The core of the machine originated from the Second Dynasty. People often mistake it for the First.”
Your finger pressed against the question on the paper. Zandik clicked his tongue.
“I didn't ask for your input. Go back to sleep.”
“But I've already slept the whole day.”
“Just let me do my homework alone.”
You turned away and just lied there for a while, listening to the scratching sound. Looking up, his satchel was just an arm reach away.
“Did you bring any candied Ajilenakh nuts for me today- Oh, you still keep this?”
The ruffling noise forced Zandik to pause his work and divert his attention back to you. You were holding his satchel in one hand and the other rummaging the inside, the flower crown peeking out. He immediately shoved it back.
“No. No candied Ajilenakh nut for you today. Now hand it over.”
Disappointment was written all over your face when he snatched the satchel from your hold. Once again, you were left alone with your own thoughts as he went back to the homework.
“Here.”
Something shiny was thrown on the ground and you picked it up. Zandik talked without looking at you.
“It’s a kamera. The Akademiya is collaborating with a tech company in Fontaine so they gave each of us one to study today. I've already looked at everything so you can have it.”
The rest of the night went by smoothly for him without any interruption (except that one time you flashed yourself and accidentally threw the kamera, causing it to hit his head). When he finally got to settle into the sleeping bag next to you, the kamera was still flashing in your hands. Inching closer to Zandik, you positioned the kamera to capture both of your faces. He immediately frowned and looked away.
“Come on, Zandik.”
“I’ll ruin it.”
“I don't want to be alone in the frame.”
He rolled his eyes but gave you the faintest of a smile anyways.
For a long time now, excitement was not an emotion Zandik felt on his birthday. He was determined to keep it a secret even when you wouldn't stop asking. The thought of celebrating his birth irked him to no end. So although today was his 18th birthday, Zandik woke up and walked to class like any other day, not to mention there were extra classes to make up for the last holiday. Crickets had already begun their nightly chirping when he returned to the Devantaka mountain. A cake with an elegantly drawn crow laid next to your sleeping figure. The campfire was still burning and you were not in your sleeping bag, meaning you must have dozed off. Zandik was half convinced to scold you for looking through his personal stuff to look for the date, the other half was busy stopping his heart from leaping out of his chest.
A crumbled bloody tissue right beside your lax hand caught his eye. For a brief moment, the nightmare from six years ago flooded back. Zandik shook his head to steady himself. This was not the time for reminiscence. He hastily crouched down and picked up the tissue. It was then quickly shoved into his coat as soon as your eyes fluttered.
“Zandik!”
You immediately sat up, gripping his shoulders.
“Happy birthday! I hope you're not mad that-”
You slid the cake closer to him.
“I looked through one of your certificates. I only wanted to do something for your 18th birthday.”
Your smile faltered when he remained silent and expressionless.
“Oh…I’m sorry. I should have asked-”
Larger hands swiftly came up to hold yours.
“Wait, no. Sorry, I’m just a bit tired from the classes. T-thank you. This means a lot.”
His shoulders relaxed when the spark returned to your eyes. He noticed you were wearing the bracelet he gifted you for your birthday this year. You squeezed his hands.
“That's right! You should respect your elders, y’know? After all, I turned 18 earlier than you for a whole month.”
Zandik scoffs.
“Yeah, right.”
No one would blame him for not being able to sleep tonight. This was the first birthday “party” in eighteen years of his life after all. Not too far away, next to the extinguished campfire, the aftermath of the “party” - smashed cake pieces and a bunch of flowers lay there, patiently waiting for the tomorrow morning clean up. The only thing in its intended position was the kamera placed at your side. His eyes kept drifting between the scene and your body sleeping next to him.
It was a fortunate coincidence that no one rarely came to the mountain. Most were scared of the gigantic ruin guard just like his past research team, or else the sight would be embarrassing. His growth spurt made his already awkward height even more noticeable in the sleeping bag. It used to have plenty of wiggle room but now his legs were starting to feel a bit strained against the fabric. Perhaps, he should acquire a new pair tomorrow at Treasures Street. Although your growth spurt was less dramatic, you were having the same struggle too. Then again, how long would this last?
As much as Zandik wanted to stay on this mountain, his degree would certainly include some sort of overseas travel. It was just a matter of time until the conversation happened. You were his longest experiment yet and he blamed himself for getting too entangled. Six years had gone by and he never had the courage to pursue the truth all the way. Nonetheless, Zandik reached a conclusion that some things were better left to be mulled over at a much more ideal time. This time, he was determined to fall asleep when his eyes closed.
You shuffled to move out of your sleeping bag. Zandik continued to play pretend, eyes shut tight.
Bleugh.
A vomiting sound came from the direction of the river followed by rapid breathing. The bloody tissue came back into his mind. It was a long while until you climbed into your spot next to him again. Zandik barely slept that night, his thumbs kept skimming over the crumbled tissue hidden inside his coat.
Over the week, Zandik had collected so many bloody tissues from you that counting became pointless. Each one bloodier than the next. Your nightly sneak out was more frequent too. The breaking point was your sudden nose bleed this morning, leading to your black out when the two of you were exchanging notes about a recent theory. He had to press for the truth tonight.
You were too occupied vomiting to notice Zandik was standing right behind. He had been standing there observing for at least ten minutes, waiting until your vomiting ended. Finally, you came to a stop. Zandik placed a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey-”
You jolted and a loud whooshing sound made him retract his hand. Two tremendous wings sprouted from your back. They would have hit him in the face had he not stepped back. He stared in bewilderment as feathers scattered around the both of you. One landed on your head. When you turned half of your body around, he managed to see the content of your vomit. The water was red with diluted blood, little pieces of flesh floating away. Your insides were being spit out. Zandik reached out a hand.
“I-It’s okay. Let me help you.”
You were about to say something but clasped your hands over your mouth. He stepped one step closer when you backed away, the wings covered your body.
“Please, I'm sure there is a plausible explanation for all of this. But right now, you need medical help.”
Hands still wouldn't leave your mouth, you shook your head and flew away. Zandik leaped forward to hopefully catch onto your wings but the only thing he got was stumbling into the river. Your diluted blood stained the part of his clothes that touched the water. You did not seem to just fly away, else he would still be able to make out your figure from afar. Teleportation was the more accurate term.
After that, he came back to sit by the river to gather his thoughts, watching bits of your flesh being carried away by the river.
Zandik wordlessly went back to sleep in his dorm for the first time in six years.
౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ •✸•⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ
Even when the bed was certainly the better option compared to the sleeping bag, Zandik had not been sleeping well. Every night was the same. He closed his eyes hoping it would help but he just ended up staring at the darkness for hours. More often than not, he made a bad habit of turning his head to the side to ask you for some sleeping medicine. Your kamera was left untouched on his desk.
Your camp at the Devantaka mountain was still visited by Zandik everyday after class. He collected a feather of yours on that night to compare it to other winged species on the mountain. Hybrid people were a minority in Teyvat but enough to still blend in with society.
Dusk was the peak time for bird activity. They hurtled in flocks to feed at the last minute before the night came. Zandik was sitting on a tree near the camp, looking through a pair of binoculars. An open notebook with loads of messy bird sketches and their feathers on his lap, your feather was neatly tucked between the pages. When he moved them down to observe the ones near the ground, the binoculars caught a figure wearing an Akademiya uniform walking towards him. She waved at him from under the tree. Putting the binoculars away, Zandik clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“Do you mind? I'm a bit preoccupied right now.”
“I promise I won't take much of your time.”
He put on the binoculars again, focusing back on the birds. Her friendly smile did not falter.
“You seem familiar with this mountain. Could I trouble you to guide me back to the Akademiya? I’ve been lost for quite some time, you see.”
It was an awkward while of her just standing there and Zandik scribbling some notes with the binoculars still on. Finally, he hopped down from the tree and gathered the satchel on the ground. Still not looking at the girl, he signaled her to follow with his hand and started walking. She let out a relieved sigh. From behind, she asked while trying to keep up with his long strides.
“What’s your name if you don't mind?”
His eyes did not leave the notebook.
“Zandik.”
“Nice to meet you, Zandik! I'm Sohreh!”
A gush of wind passed by, causing his coat pocket to open a bit. His hand reached up to cover it, fingers pressed down on the photograph of you inside. It was the only photo in the kamera he decided to print out - one of the few without him in the frame.
Ever since the encounter on the mountain, Sohreh would seek him out in the halls between classes and lunch breaks. He once debated if he should just be honest and told her to leave him be, but he decided to hold on for the time being. She was an Amurta student. An extremely useful source of information for his search project.
Lunch break in the Akademiya was a bustling time, especially the canteen. Food orders being shouted everywhere, the chattering never ended among the scholars. Some stood eating, some sat and others did not eat but were just passing by to greet their friends.
“You know, the Haravatat Darshan is going on a big field trip in the desert this weekend. I heard they're going to the infamous Orchard of Pairidaeza deep inside Mt. Damavand.”
The name piqued his interest. Zandik looked up from his plate of fatteh.
“That is the resting place of the Goddess of Flowers, right? Nabu Malikata?”
Sohreh’s face lit up at his response. This was one of the rare moments where the conversation wasn't one-sided.
“Yes! Everything in the Orchard, also known as the Eternal Oasis, was frozen in time by King Deshret to preserve Nabu Malikata’s last moments.”
“Hm, wasn't Nabu Malikata also an angel who somehow escaped the curse on her race?”
“That is one of the most widely accepted and popular theories. I must say, although this is Haravatat’s research study, your knowledge is quite solid.”
Zandik gave a non-committal hum and turned back to his plate. Sohreh had steered the conversation to a topic he could not care less about. He was secretly glad his time doing research on the folklores you cared so much finally paid off. This trip could prove to be a huge lead. For now, Zandik focused on savoring the fatteh. An ancient and simple dish. You used to make it on every full moon, exploiting the huge amount of mints growing in the mountain. He remembered something about the full moon being an important occasion in your family.
The scorching sun of the Great Red Sand was not his preferred weather. Having said that, he felt not an ounce of regret signing up for this field trip. His notebook had never been filled this fast. Although, it would have been ideal if Sohreh did not volunteer to accompany him on this trip. She claimed to be friends with Vahumana students, unlike Zandik, and said it would be beneficial for him if she joined. Zandik did not need that.
One of the strongest clues about you he gathered on this trip was the moon. He had already spent a reasonable amount of time studying it in the House of Daena, but never came across its connection to this particular desert civilization. According to the newly excavated stone tablets during the trip, the people here practiced many worship rituals. The full moon was considered an important date where communities gathered to have a big dinner then pray at the end of the meal, expressing their gratitude to the Moon Maiden - Goddess of Flowers.
Their long and arduous journey finally came into fruition as the professor ushered everyone to come explore the Eternal Oasis. He led them to the middle of the lake to gather around a gnarled tree. To Zandik’s surprise, even the water was frozen in time as he could walk on it freely. The professor pointed at the tree.
“It’s a pity you lot can't see Nabu Malikata’s horns for yourself. Eighteen years ago, an Akademiya scholar unearthed her pair of horns right here under the tree's root. But then, a custody battle between the Jinns and the Akademiya happened.”
He stroked his beard.
“Eventually, after consulting the Akasha system and putting ethical practice into account, the sages agreed on giving ownership to the Jinns.”
Eighteen years…Eighteen… Zandik figured it out. His pencil broke in the middle of his frantic scribbling. He let out a curse loud enough to be given a discriminating side eye from the scholar next to him. The professor steered the group to another point of interest, leaving only Zandik at the old spot. The page almost got ripped out by his trembling hands. A gush of wind flew by and he reached up to feel your photo through the coat pocket.
Someone collided with his left shoulder.
“Oh, Zandik! What are you standing there for? Let's go or else we’ll be left behind.”
Sohreh had just finished talking with her Haravatat friends. She tugged at his arm but he swung it out of her grip, staring at the tree ahead. Zandik squeezed your photo one more time.
Time to put an end to this six-year experiment.
౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ •✸•⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ
A hundred and forty seven. That was the total number of books relating to Nabu Malikata Zandik had read this week. Contradictory to before the finding, he spent most of the time holed up in his dorm with piles of books. There were so many notes that they almost covered all of the floor surface. Broken pencils lying everywhere.
Someone knocked on his door. Sohreh's voice echoed from the outside.
“Zandik! I know you're in there! We agreed on a picnic today, remember?”
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Zandik got up on the bed and opened the door for her. She greeted him with a smile, a basket hung by her arm.
“My Rtawahist friend said the stars will be the clearest at the Devantaka mountain in about thirty minutes. I don't want to miss it!”
They, in fact, did not agree on a picnic. To be more exact, Sohreh took Zandik’s non-committal hum for a yes and that landed him here, at the old camp. His fault for not listening to what she was saying in the first place.
Sohreh was struggling to make a fire. Her clumsy hands kept dropping the wood, something you would never do.
“Ugh, it would have been nicer if we managed to make a fire. It's freezing out here.”
Zandik was sitting not too far away with an open book on his lap, his back facing hers.
“How did you find this place again?”
“Oh, I just walked a bit around here in advance. This is quite a comfy spot. The previous camper sure knew this place like the back of their hand.”
“I see.”
There was a mixture of sounds coming from Sohreh’s direction but he tried his best to continue reading. He did not know what to think of the new revelation that she lied about not knowing the way around here. Somehow, both of you were terrible liars.
“Who was that friend you used to hang out with anyways? I often saw them just walking in these parts.”
What Sohreh just said made Zandik flinched. He was not ready to have a conversation about you of all people.
“That's none of your business.”
She shrugged.
“It's a good thing you stopped hanging out with that weirdo. I once saw them make you eat some sort of freaky plant concoction. Big ick.”
His knuckles were white from gripping the book too tight.
“You stalked us.”
This time, it was Sohreh's turn to flinch.
“I wouldn't say it like that! Checking up on you would be more accurate. That…jungle kid, they weren't even around here, who knew-”
“I’m going back to my dorm.”
He promptly shut the book and stood up, clearly irritated. She lunged forward from the camp fire to tug him back by the arm.
“Wait! Please don't go. You don't know how long I’ve been waiting for a date like this with you.”
The silence in the Devantaka mountain was something Zandik always found comforting. Now, if anything, it made the act of strangling a fellow Akademiya scholar to death felt more damning. His hand still had not left her neck and he was still in position, crouching on the ground with her lifeless body between his knees. Regardless, the crickets kept chirping.
Nothing would have happened if Sohreh had not run her mouth further. Apparently, you once tried to treat her injuries when you found her falling hard into the river. Scratches and wounds were all over her face and arms due to the sharp rocks. She thanked you by slapping you hard in the face as you were about to hand her your herb medicine, accusing you of poisoning. She chalked it up to survival instinct.
Even when his breathing had slowed down, the hands wrapping around her neck would not leave. You were still plaguing Zandik's mind at this moment. He saw you at Sohreh’s spot. Your neck was bruised, lifeless but full of hatred eyes staring at his red ones, just like the dream from six years ago. You were right to flee from him as everyone did.
Tears landed on Sohreh’s cold cheeks, but they were not his.
“Zandik, let her go. It's over.”
Hands gently pried his rigid ones away from her neck. They then moved up to hold her face delicately. Zandik almost fainted when he lifted his head. Your wide wings curled around you and Sohreh's body, the corner of your mouth had a smudge of blood. Right after you stroke her cheek one last time, Sohreh's body dissolved into nothingness. Your tired but soft eyes met his gaze before you collapsed. He moved fast enough to crash you into his chest before your head hit the ground.
i had a thought about teen!r x tim just acting like dumb kids idk… like they’d call each other husband playfully and joke about stuff, they weren’t even dating when that whole thing started and the relationship just kind of slowly morphed without needing to say anything (maybe some batfam cameo too, tim gets teased so much but he’s still in denial) ouhhh i’m so soft rn feeling emoshunal teen love is so cute :(
-🪸
CASE FILE 001-A: “Red Robin’s Domestic Crisis.”
PAIRING: Tim Drake × Male Reader
CASE STATUS:
▪️Closed
CASE TYPE:
You and Tim are not dating. The “husband” thing is just a joke, obviously, and anyone who thinks otherwise is wrong (according to him). The Batfam, unfortunately, is more than happy to point it out and he has to deal with the fact that everyone else came to terms with it before he did.
Well, it starts like a joke.
“Move, husband,” you say, nudging Tim’s shoulder with yours as you squeeze past him in the hallway.
He barely looks up from his phone. “Rude. I’m literally carrying all of the weight of this entire operation.”
“You mean the group project you’ve redone five times because you don’t trust anyone else to breathe near it?” You raised a brow slowly.
Tim finally glances at you, flat and unimpressed in the way only he can manage. “Be a good husband and appreciate my dedication.”
That makes you snort. “Yes, dear.”
It isn’t even consistent at first. Just the little things.
You steal his pencil, he calls you “ungrateful spouse.” You sit next to him in the library, he mutters “oh, hey, my beloved showed up.” You bring him snacks, he smiles like you’ve fulfilled a lifelong vow.
“Fix your posture,” you tell him one afternoon, leaning over the table in the library.
Tim doesn’t even look offended. “Is that how you speak to your husband?”
“Yes,” you say immediately. “Be good and sit up before you turn into a cashew.”
“You’re impossible.” He obeys, but only to prove a point. No other reason.
“And yet you married me.”
Tim mutters, “Regrettably.”
…
Later, he starts doing it without prompting.
You’re half asleep when he taps your forehead lightly. “Wake up… your spouse requires urgent support.”
You blink at him. “That’s.. not how marriage works.”
“Well, too late for that, we already signed the paperwork in my head.” He smirked.
“You forged legal documents?”
“I’m a Drake. We’re efficient.”
You laugh and he looks satisfied, like that was the goal more than the joke itself. And it keeps going like that. Small and stupid like:
“You’re failing your husband duties by laughing at me.”
“Ughh.. my spouse is neglecting me again.”
It’s late evening in the kitchen when Tim walks in, still half in suit from patrol, grabbing a glass of water. Dick is already there, perched on the counter.
“So,” Dick says casually, swinging his legs, “how’s married life?”
“…What are you talking about?”
Dick’s grin widens. “Oh, you know. The whole ‘be a good husband’ situation you’ve got going on.”
“It’s a joke,” Tim says immediately, too fast.
“Sureeee,” Dick replies, dragging it out. “A very committed joke. Real lifetime partnership energy.”
“We’re just messing around.” Tim murmurs into his cup of water as he takes a sip.
“Uh-huh.” Dick hops down from the counter. “You mess around like you’re filing, I don’t know, joint taxes.”
Tim doesn’t respond to that, asides from a sigh. Which, unfortunately, is also an answer.
…
Jason hears about it later, and of course he hears it wrong first. He’s in the training room when Tim passes through, and he doesn’t even look away from the punching bag.
“So you finally got hitched, huh?”
Tim stops walking. “No.”
Jason smirks. “That’s not what Dick said.”
“I’m going to assume Dick said something stupid.”
Jason finally looks over, amused. “He said you’ve got a husband now.”
Tim pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s a joke.”
“Yeah? You call him that in the field too?”
“That was once.”
“That’s once more than zero.”
Tim walks away before it can become a full interrogation.
Jason watches him go and calls after him, “Tell your spouse I said hi!”
“He’s not my—”
But Jason was already laughing.
…
Tim finds Damian in the library later, sitting straight in a chair that looks too big for him, sharpening a pencil like it’s a blade.
Damian looks up. “Grayson says you have entered into a matrimonial arrangement.”
“No.”
“A mock marriage?” Damian tilts his head slightly.
“Yes.”
“A foolish one?”
Tim exhales. “It’s a joke, Damian.”
Damian goes back to sharpening. “You are unusually tolerant of this individual.”
“I tolerate all of you.”
“That is false.” Damian continues, unbothered. “You respond faster to him. You allow physical proximity without irritation. You have never corrected his usage of marital terminology in a meaningful way.”
“It’s not meaningful,” Tim says.
Damian finally looks up again. “Then why do you hesitate before denying it?”
Tim adjusts his sleeve. “It’s just funny.”
“Denial is inefficient.”
…
Stephanie is also worse.
She sprinted towards Tim in the hallway with both hands full of equipment bags. “Ooooh,” she cooes instantly. “How’s married life treating you?”
Tim groans. “Not you too.”
“Yeah! I heard you’re domestic now.” She leans in like it’s classified intel and whispers, “Do you cook? Do you fight over chores? Do you say ‘yes dear’ yet?”
“It’s not real.”
“Sounds real,” she practically sings.
“It’s seriously just a joke!” Tim said indignantly.
“Sure,” she says, stretching the word. “A joke where you’ve basically adopted a boyfriend.”
“I’m leaving.”
“Tell your husband I said hi!”
He doesn’t respond but his ears are turning red.
…
Barbara doesn’t ease into it either, which of course, sucks for Tim. It’s another late call and the screen glows faintly in the background, green code reflecting off her glasses. Tim is mid-report, standing in the cave with his tablet, trying very hard to sound normal.
“You’ve been syncing patrol routes around his schedule,” Barbara says.
“That’s not—”
“It is,” she cuts in, calm but certain. “And you don’t do ‘not deliberate’ things, Tim.”
Silence.
Barbara leans back slightly in her chair. “Also,” she adds, like she’s switching topics but absolutely isn’t, “I know teen love when I see it.”
She continues, tone far too casual for what she’s saying. “And you? Totally soft for that guy.”
“I’m not—” he starts.
Barbara lifts a hand. “Don’t.”
That single word shuts it down more effectively than a screaming argument ever could.
Tim exhales. “It’s not like that.”
Barbara watches him through the screen, expression gentler now, but still knowing. “Then what is it?” she asks.
He hesitates for too long, and that’s the problem because whatever answer he was going to give… doesn’t come out to be believable anymore.
“It’s a joke,” he says finally, quieter this time.
She just nods. “Sure. A joke.”
And through all of it, Tim keeps insisting the same thing.
It’s a joke.
A simple running bit.
Something stupid between two people.
But jokes don’t usually make him look up when someone walks into a room. They don’t usually stick around this long. And they definitely don’t make everyone else start noticing before he does.
Tim stares at the screen a little longer than he means to.
The message is simple—just four words that feel heavier than they should.
“I want to talk to you.”
Before he can overthink it further, the phone buzzes again.
“Yes, my darling husband?”
Of course.
Tim exhales through his nose, something between a laugh and resignation. His thumb hovers for a second, then starts typing.
“Stop calling me that.”
He deletes it and tries again.
“Are you busy?”
Too casual, so he deleted it too.
He locks the screen for half a second, then unlocks it again like that would reset his brain.
This is ridiculous. He’s faced down armed criminals and dismantled hacking networks—and somehow texting is what’s breaking him.
He finally types:
“Can you meet me? Tonight.”
Almost immediately, the reply from you comes through.
“Yeah. Where, honey?”
Tim shuts his eyes for a second. Stop calling me that, he almost types. Instead:
“Roof. The usual one.”
No reply after that. He just hopes you listen.
…
He gets there first.
Gotham air is cold enough to bite through fabric but Tim barely notices. He’s already running through every possible version of this conversation in his head, none of them good enough.
Footsteps approach behind him a few minutes later.
You step up beside him. “So,” you say. “This is serious business or just emotional support husband duties?”
Tim lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
“Serious,” he finally says.
“Okay,” you say, quieter. “Talk to me.”
Tim looks out over Gotham for a second longer, like he needs something steady to focus on before he says anything.
“I think… I think I might actually like you.” He looks at you softly. “I don’t know when it stopped being a joke, but it did.”
A pause as the wind moves between you both, sharp and cold.
Tim continues anyway, “And I don’t expect anything from you. I just needed to admit it.”
“…You feel it too?”
He just blinks. “What?”
You look just as surprised as he feels.
Your brows lift, your expression caught somewhere between disbelief and relief, as though you’d expected almost any response except the one he’d given.
“Do you feel it too?” you repeated.
“…Too?”
You scratch the back of your neck, suddenly looking a lot less confident than the boy who’d spent months calling him husband and all those pet names without a second thought.
“I mean…” You let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. Um, I kind of thought I was the one who accidentally ruined the joke.”
Tim just stares. “You like me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’ve been calling me ‘husband’ and ‘honey’ this entire time while actually—”
“Yep..”
Another pause.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was funny at first. Then I started looking forward to hearing you say it back.”
Tim’s heart does something deeply inconvenient.
“I’d catch myself wondering if you’d text me that day.” You smile to yourself, small and sheepish. “Or I’d hear something dumb and think, ‘Tim’s going to roll his eyes so hard at this.’”
Tim can only gape at you.
For someone who always has a response, always has another angle or argument ready, his mind is completely blank.
“You seriously…” he mumbles at last.
“I seriously like you.”
Tim lets out a slow breath. “I spent four days trying to convince myself Dick was imagining things.”
“He wasn’t?”
“No.”
“Jason?”
“…Unfortunately not.”
“The rest of your family?”
“They’re going to be unbearable.”
“So… they figured it out before we did?”
“…Yeah,” he admits.
“Huh.”
“Hm.”
“Sooo…” You nudge his shoulder with yours, almost experimentally.
“So.”
“Does this mean I was being a good spouse this whole time?”
Tim groans, dropping his face into one hand. “You had one chance to be serious.”
“I was serious for, like, two full minutes!”
“You lasted eighty seconds at most.”
“I think that’s a personal record.”
Against his better judgment, Tim laughs.
You brighten immediately at the sound. “There he is.”
“Oh, don’t start.”
“I can’t help it.” You bump him again. “It’s nice hearing my husband laugh.”
Tim shakes his head, already smiling.
“…You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” you say, reaching over to lace your fingers through his with effortless certainty, “you still like me.”
Tim looks down at your joined hands.
Then back at you.
“…Yeah,” he says, giving your hand the slightest squeeze. “I really do.”
He doesn’t get jealous or territorial at all, (unlike a certain canine) he’s confident in your relationship and knows you’re his. Sometimes plays annoyingly hard to get, though. Ironically, when you’re busy he has no problem begging for affection, distracting you and teasing you.
He likes to lick you, just sometimes. Especially if you’ve been away for a while or he missed you. It’ll be a real surprise- you pull him into a hug after being away for a while, and you feel a rough wet tongue on your cheek. Loves cuddles and napping with you, just plopping into your lap and gets you both comfortable. His head just belongs in your shoulder.
He’s a princess in every sense of the word, he has you waiting on him hand and foot. If he gets tired walking, you have to carry him. Where he wants to go, you take him. You give in to everything he says. You do everything in bed while he gets to just lay there and enjoy it.
he's sooo flexible, like his neck and chest is all that's on the bed, everything below raised for you, it looked like it hurt. His hands between his legs, jerking himself off.
his tail wraps around your wrist on his waist as you fuck into him nice and hard, just like he likes it. he purrs the entire time, literally mewling, it's so fucking cute. And so hot- his purring runs through his entire body, and it feels fucking amazing. Plus his vibrating insides are so warm, very grippy, even when you try to pull out, he doesn't let you.
Yank on his tail a bit and you’ll see a full body shiver run through him, as his mouth clamps up and eyes go upwards. Will pout at you, telling you not to do that. You press a kiss to his neck in apology, watching his tongue stick out for a kiss on the lips- you oblige. His back arches to fucking heaven, somehow even further to let you cage him entirely.
He’s so loud, so cute and endearing, making you want to go gentle on him, but he begs for it harder, please push into him more, oh yes, that’s fucking perfect- demanding, but moaning sweetly at anything you give him.
He loves having his neck, hips and tail gripped, but wouldn’t admit it. And if he mewled when your hand snaked to pinch his nipple, he'd deny it. They’re very sensitive though. Very much a pillow princess- has you doing all the work.
One round is enough for him- after he cums, he’s too sensitive and overstimulated- in the beginning, he’d push you away if you hadn’t come yet, and you had to jerk off to finish, but now he endures it a bit, letting you cum inside. He likes you just staying there, resting in him.
He’s so sleepy after sex. Likes to lay down with you, curling up on your chest above your heartbeat, purring. He demands kisses and pets and you staying there with him until he falls asleep. A princess in every sense of the word, but it doesn’t bother you too much, because he’s your princess.
Ok so what about Pucci taking a liking to the young new priest in training, but with him trying to deny his feelings. Only to have them amplified once he sees the priest in training reciprocate those feelings. Also got a smut idea, which you don’t gotta write but I wanna say it. Pucci and the young priest having mirror sex because he wants to see all of reader. Like I’m talkin bout innit
I'm talking bout innit!! And NGL I def got carried away writing this😭
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Pucci was entranced by you, and well he didn't know what to do with that. He couldn't quite tell what feelings he had for you. So similar to the ones he held for Lord Dio but over time they grew stronger. You took over his desires. The worst part was that you were a priest just like him, so he had to see you all the damn time. His eyes couldn't help but wander to you at all time. Just so slightly that the only person who ever noticed was Dio.
It didn't help at all that you were a damn tease. Even if you didn't know you were doing it. The way your hips switched when you walked, the uniform sticking to your skin on hot days allowing him to see every dimple and curve, the way your eyes would always meet his gaze then fall to his lips before going back up to his eyes. It was all too much for the poor man. He had to be losing his mind. Little did he know that you were doing it on purpose.
Your Lord Dio told you all about pucci's feelings. It was no surprise anyways seeing as he got flustered any time you came by. And in Dio's words "make sure you give my favorite worshipper whatever it is he wants", and who would you be to deny your God's word. Especially when you weren't shy about your feelings for the other male. And you did just like Dio wanted. Except trying to drop subtle hints wasn't working.
Dragging your fingers a little too long across his arm, only coming to him for help with things you already knew how to do, even bending over directly in front of him making him bump into you. He just could not see the signs. Or at least was trying not to. You were getting impatient and you wanted to satisfy not only lord dio's request but the need to be with pucci.
You all but dragged him into your room after hours under the guise of doing a "confessional". His breath hitched when you pushed him down on to your bed, moving between his legs on your knees and looking up at him with your pretty eyes. "Forgive me father, for I have sinned." Pucci knew he was supposed to speak after you but you had his damn head spinning. All he could muster up was a nod for you to keep going. The tension in the room was thicker, slowly growing thicker as the bulge in his pants also grew.
This time it was your own breath that hitched, your heart racing as his print was right in front of you. If you moved even an inch your lips would touch it. "Forgive me, for I have thought about you in unsavory ways, father pucci." Your hands slowly moved up his thighs making him bite his lip. "Continue... tell me more. What have you thought of?" It took a lot for you not to chuckle, because honestly what haven't you thought of? "I have thought of you touching me. Fucking me in ways not others can. I wished to worship in ways that others would find sinful. For Lord Dio may be our God, but you are much more to me."
All the while you spoke your hands were undoing his belt buckle, freeing his hardening dick. He was throbbing right in front of your face. A pretty line of precum already falling from his head. Pucci couldn't believe someone as quiet as you could be so slutty. Just when he thought you were done you started up again. "I thought of you touching me, owning me. Your body pressed against mine until we were one." Grabbing his hand you moved it to your chest for him to grope. He froze for a second before instincts took over. Rubbing and pinching at your nipples, seeing them harden under his touch.
His eyes watched as you stood up. Not knowing what you were doing until with a few undoing of some buttons your clothes dropped off your body and landed on your floor. Leaving you in your boxers in front of him. "I know it is not savory but just for the night, will you be my god?" That question was the final straw. Pucci stood up and without thinking pressed his lips against yours, pulling you into a deep bit rushed kiss. His hands were fumbling with his attire desperately taking it off before both of you fell against your bed. When he pulled back you were just a sight for sore and eyes. All out of breath, face flushed, and just his to see.
Noticing your gaze wasn't on him he looked up to see just what you were looking at. What he wasn't expecting to see was a mirror over your bed. Just how cocky were you? He couldn't lie, it only turned him on more. His hands slowly moved up your body, taking in every little bit "you are trouble. Never have I met a man that acted so much like a vixen till I have met you." "I was trying to get your attention. You weren't falling for the small things so I had to take it up a notch."
The mirror was catching every little thing that happened, and his eyes couldn't leave it. "You are a beauty. One I can not describe." Slowly he peeled off your boxers watching your body react to his touch. "I tried to avoid you thinking you had no interest in me. If I had known I was this wrong I would have done this earlier." He started pressing hard kisses against your neck marking you up. Trailing down your body till he got to the middle of your tummy "this won't be a one time thing. After this you will be mine." "I wasn't hoping for one time. I only wish to be with you."
He grabbed the lube you had sitting on your night stand when you grabbed his hand "done worry about prep, I did some before I got you in here. Just please, fuck me." There was a hunger in him from your words. You had planned on him for all this time and you were finally getting what you wanted. Pouring a generous amount of lube on his dick he slowly pushed inside you. Both of you letting out a low moan.
His hips were slamming into yours. Pulling your waist back to meet his harsh thrust, thumbs digging into the dimples on your hips "this is what you wanted. Wanted to be worshiped by a god. Did all this just for some attention. I hope you don't think you'll be going anywhere after this. Because this is where you belong now. Right here. Under me." "Yes, yes I am yours." He wrapped his hand around your throat, gaze going back up to the mirror watching you come undone under him. You were a whining mess, feeling his tip repeatedly hit that spot that made you lose your mind.
The room filled with the sound of your skin slapping against each other and small chants of his name from you. "You are so handsome pucci. Love looking at you." Your small praises only egged him on as he fucked into you deeper. "Can look at me all you want. Look at your lover. I'm all you will see everyday now. Shit I'm going to cum." He started to pull out only for you to wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer "no, don't pull out. Give it to me. I want everything from you."
His eyes widened but he didn't stop. He moved his hand to your tummy and his other wrapped around your dick, stroking it to the pace he was fucking you. "Fuck, pucci, my god." "That's right love, call out to your God. I'm right here." "Gonna cum." He nodded with a smirk. Quickening his thrust before he felt that strong urge as well. His head fell to your shoulder as you both came at the same time. Heavy breathing taking over what was just a moaned filled room.
