yahaha! you found me!

Mads (she/her) self indulgent fanfic writer • vice president of fubuki nation • 18+ only

[mierimi]

Writing About...

Fields of Mistria

Rune Factory: Guardians of Azuma

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You can find more info about submitting requests here.

This blog contains 18+ content, including but not limited to: explicit smut, kink, graphic violence, and dark/heavy themes.

Guide to how I use tags here.

I can be found on ao3 as laterose

[mierimi]

Yuta Okkotsu really is the guy of all time ever...my son, my baby boy who I birthed myself, my sun and stars

[kmsssh]

Commission for @henrysketchblog

[mierimi]

Pay Attention

A sweet & spicy soft dom Eiland x reader requested by an anonymous but very wise individual. I know the ask was for a "drabble" but I'm afraid I cannot be brief about this subject. One shot be upon ye.

CW: explicit smut, dom!eiland, sub!reader, GN!reader, minor injury with some blood, somewhat of a student/teacher roleplay thing going on. Word Count: 2934

Also on AO3!

You had to admit, the romance novels on your shelf were right about one thing: it was nice to be carried bridal-style in the arms of your beloved. However, you couldn’t recall your favorite books mentioning the main character bleeding all over their lover’s well-tailored winter coat, or the bit where Eiland was losing his mind thinking that your injured ankle was somehow his fault. 

It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. You and Eiland were out on a dig. It started snowing. You lost track of time, got too excited about spotting an artifact, stepped in a hole hidden by the recent snowfall, twisted your ankle, fell, cut your arm on a rock, and screamed so loud that Eiland thought you had broken something or possibly been murdered by an unseen assailant. You knew that realistically…you would be fine. The only major casualty was your dignity. Eiland, however, was acting like you’d both fallen through time into some old-world battlefield and you had been felled by an arrow. You peeked up at his handsome face from your place in his arms.

“Eiland,” you whispered. “You don’t have to run. I’m not at risk of bleeding out.” 

“Hm? Oh! But Valen should see you right away…you know, even though the soil in Mistria is quite healthy compared to most places around Aldaria, it could still harbor unknown bacteria, and we don’t know what exactly you hit-–’”

“A rock, Eiland.” You sighed. His speculative nature was always cute, but you didn’t want him whipping himself up into a worried frenzy over this. “Let’s just rinse it off and see how it looks, alright?”

“Alright,” he replied, clearly skeptical. He slowed his pace and changed course. 

“Where are we going?”

“If you don’t want to see Valen yet, I’ll allow it, but I’m not going to toss you into your house to fend for yourself. We’re going to the manor.”

That made sense. It was closer anyway, having come from the Western Ruins into the center of town. You acquiesced and fell silent, snuggling closer into his chest for warmth. You could feel more than hear when he started humming—a soft, vaguely familiar melody. 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

You kept your eyes closed, content in Eiland’s arms, as he managed to get the front door open and enter the main hall. Someone was playing the piano. You only stirred and looked around when you felt him start to ascend the stairs. Interesting.

“Are we not going to your office? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“Ah, it would, but far less comfortable!” Eiland announced cheerily and smiled down at you. Then, his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “I would prefer to have you in my bed.” The words sent a flash of heat through your body. He surely didn’t mean it like that. Sweet, bashful Eiland would never manage to sound so smooth if he intended to be flirtatious. He probably meant exactly what he said. He preferred to have you in his bed to recover because it would be more comfortable. That made sense, just like coming here in the first place made sense. 

Moments later, you melted into a pile of blankets that both looked and felt expensive. Eiland was an outdoorsy person, but in his home, he did enjoy the finer things. His bookshelves were covered in history texts and board games and relics, but the quality and cut of the wood was still obvious. His bed felt pleasantly lived-in, but it was sturdy in a way that cheap construction never was, and the sheets no doubt had a thread count the better part of a thousand. You bunched one of them in your hand. The feeling of these sheets against your skin was not entirely unfamiliar. You’d been here before, of course, just not for the purpose of receiving medical treatment.

You glanced at your arm. It was no longer actively bleeding. That gave you some relief—at least you wouldn’t ruin Eiland’s fancy bedding like you had probably ruined his clothing. He didn’t seem to pay that any mind. He’d thrown his elegant cloak on the floor and was fishing through a box of what looked like basic medical supplies. You sat up, feet hanging off the edge of the mattress.

“Aha!” he cried, lifting a roll of bandages and a bottle. He grabbed some fresh cloth and tipped out a bit of the bottle’s contents onto it. “Here, hold out your arm. This might sting a bit!” He wiped the cloth over your cut, causing you to wince and hiss. He winced back. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I—”

“It’s fine, Eiland, really,” you said, laughing. “You did exactly what you’re supposed to do.”

“Did I, my dearest? I let this happen in the first place.” He looked morose as he finished cleaning you up. The scrape really didn’t look so bad afterwards. Eiland took the bandages, applied some ointment, and wrapped up your arm. “In any case, I think you were right; we probably don’t need to see Valen about your arm. Now, let’s have a look at that ankle. May I?” 

You nodded. Eiland sat down on the bed and unlaced your shoes, slid them off. Then, your socks. Finally, he raised the hem of your pant leg up as high as it would go to expose your injured ankle. His cool, slender fingers skimmed over your skin.

“Hmmm,” he hummed. He held your foot aloft, gingerly, as if inspecting a rare artifact.

“Eiland, can you actually tell what’s going on, or are you just preparing to guess?”

“It’s called a hypothesis when you have data.”

“Oh, forgive me, Professor Eiland,” you teased. He blushed. He ran his hand higher up your leg, onto your calf, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Does that hurt at all, sweetheart?”

“No, not at all,” you replied. “It’s really just my ankle, and honestly, even that’s not so bad now that I’ve been off my feet for a bit.”

“I’m glad to hear you say so,” he murmured, moving closer. He slid his hand up even farther as he looked thoughtful. “Hmm…I’d call that anecdotal evidence. That’s when—”

“Eiland,” you said, laughing and giving him a playful shove. “I know what that is. I hear you talk about the most reliable methods of ‘understanding the people of the past’ every day!”

“I think you haven’t been paying attention to my lessons,” he replied. His indigo eyes scanned you up and down—or perhaps, studied would be a better word for the way he looked at you. Then, he hooked his arm under your knee and pulled you flat onto your back. Caught by surprise by his casual show of strength, you froze as he climbed into bed and leaned over you.

“W-what do you mean, Eiland?” You peered up at him, feigning innocence. As if you hadn’t suspected his intentions the moment he first set foot up the stairs. “I’m always paying attention, if it’s you talking.”

“I—um,” he trailed off, blushing furiously. “Now, that’s not fair! You know my heart can’t take it when you say things like that without warning.”

“My sincerest apologies, Professor,” you purred. “Anecdotal evidence? You were saying?”

“Ahem, yes.” Eiland cleared his throat. He dipped his head, his mouth only inches from yours, but he did not let your lips meet.  “Anecdotal evidence, while valuable, is generally not considered the ‘most reliable’ source of information about our history.”

“I see. And what is?”

“Think for yourself,” he replied, and began kissing his way down your neck.

“It is…physical evidence?” His lips reached your chest.

“Very good.” He placed a gentle kiss on your stomach. “Hmm. I would be remiss to ignore such a perfect opportunity to model correct research techniques.” Spirits, he was such a nerd, but you loved him so much. Eiland unbuttoned your pants and drew them over your hips. You stopped thinking anything about him being a huge dork—you stopped thinking any thoughts at all—when he licked you right through your flimsy undergarments.

“Ah…ohhhh,” you moaned as you writhed under his attentions. You wrestled off the rest of your pants yourself—caution the farthest thing from your mind—as he lapped at you, wanting more freedom to move. It seemed Eiland had other plans for you. He took both hands and ripped your underwear out of his way and then used both hands again to push your thighs up against your chest.  Your ankles crossed behind his head. That put a little pressure on your sprain, but you hardly felt any pain with Eiland’s talented tongue on the most sensitive part of your body by far. You raked your fingers into his pretty pale hair and pulled. He looked up at you, eyes shining with lust and mischief, and then gave a particular hard suck that had you breaking eye contact to see stars instead. You couldn’t help but whine shamelessly. After a few more strokes that had your body arching off the bed and your heels digging into the back of his head, Eiland tore away, gasping.

“Ahh…as sweet as always,” he sighed and licked his lips, savoring the taste of you. “But you’re not being very well-behaved, are you, my dearest?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you shot back, totally out of breath. “I promise, I’m paying attention now.”

“Yes, I can tell. But you’re interfering with my lesson plan…and my treatment plan.” He pushed himself back, getting up. As he rose, he carefully separated your feet from tapping against each other with his every movement. “Oh well. I suppose I can indulge my favorite student.” He stood up. Before you could question or complain, he began stripping off his heavy winter clothing. You sat up and reached out to help with the lacing, but he stopped you. He took a moment to pull your hand closer and place a soft kiss on the inside of your bandaged wrist. So charmed were you by the tenderness that you hardly noticed when he shrugged off his shirt and stepped out of his trousers.

He pulled off your shirt next. “Hmm.” He raked his eyes over you. Your cheeks grew red. No matter how many times he assured you otherwise, you always worried that Eiland found your naked body disappointing. He stood there unclothed, looking like one of the beautiful stone statues he unearthed on occasion, but hard as a rock in a very different sense.

“Eiland…?”

He wordlessly bent down and grabbed something beside you. Ah. Your torn underwear. He held the scraps up on a finger, frowning.

“This isn’t one of the pieces I got for you.”

“O-oh,” you stuttered, blushing harder. “Everything you gift me is so nice…I didn’t want to wear it out all day on a dig.” Not to mention that you hadn’t expected to wind up undressed in his bedroom quite so soon…today, at least.  

“We’ll make sure you’re attired appropriately next time,” he said, stroking your cheek.  

“Am I getting a dress code violation?” you teased. Your voice shook with arousal, though, and you knew he could tell. You pressed your thighs together. If he didn’t do something soon, you were going to lose all the momentum from earlier. May as well try to bait him a little. “Am I to be punished?”

“Quite the opposite.” He pulled you off the bed.

“H-hey, wait, my—”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Eiland cooed as he lifted you from the bed and manhandled you into an upright position. He held you in front of him with one arm around your ribcage and the other under your thigh; the leverage kept your injured foot completely off the ground. “See? Just trust me.”

He sheathed himself inside of you in one movement. It knocked the breath from your lungs. Eiland was usually so gentle, so moderate. He moaned appreciatively, nuzzling his nose into your hair, and began to roll his hips into you from behind. He set languid but controlled pace. It seemed he was in a hurry to get inside of you, but he intended to take his time with you now that he had you. You pushed your free foot against the floor, causing you to tense and rise against his hips; this earned you a muffled groan. You didn’t have much room to maneuver with Eiland’s arms so firmly wrapped around you, but you tried to reach behind and grab at his hair, or even just his shoulder—anything to regain some sense of control as he bounced your helpless body with each thrust.

“Ah, ah,” he chided you. “We’ve had enough insolence for today. This is for your own good.” He adjusted his grip around your chest so that your upper arms were pinned. His hands caressed your chest. You noted that he didn’t take the easier option of just grabbing and holding your wrists. Thoughtful, even in the throes of passion. With your motion completely restricted, you could do nothing but take it as he gradually increased the speed and depth of his strokes. The way he was lightly rolling your nipples in his work-hardened fingers as he fucked you nearly sent you into overstimulation. Eiland’s breath tickled your ear as it grew ragged. You could feel his lungs rising and falling against your back, faster and faster in time with the pace of his hips. Then he unexpectedly…slowed. Stopped.

“Huh?” was all you could manage to say. Your brain was fuzzy from pleasure.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he whispered right against the shell of your ear. “You do deserve a little punishment.”

“W-why?!” What could you possibly have done wrong? Eiland slid out of you and half carried you a few steps until you were pushed down onto the bed face-first.  Was he going to drop you off and leave you hanging? Was that the reprimand of his choosing? That would be so uncharacteristically mean. But Eiland was never mean. You were reminded of that when he mercifully pushed himself back into you. He took hold of your hip with one calloused hand and pushed down between your shoulder blades with the other. The pressure was not hard enough to risk hurting, but it was enough to keep you pinned in place against the sheets as he slowly drew away…and then slammed home. He held still, his member deep inside of you but maddeningly motionless.

“Why, you ask?” He rubbed his palm in a circle on your back, which both felt nice and kept you from rocking back to try and fuck yourself on him. You hissed in frustration. He shifted to holding you down by the neck. “Because I’m taking such good care of you, and I haven’t heard you cry my name even once.”

He didn’t bother with keeping his rhythm controlled this time. Eiland pounded into you as a stream of constant praise fell from his lips. He sang your praises as your walls fluttered around his length, moaning and keening about how you felt like heaven itself.

“Ah—whuh—Eiland, it’s too much, please,” you babbled.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he rasped, breathless. “Louder, please.” He cocked your hip up, creating a new angle that had your vision going blurry.  The hand on your neck disappeared and suddenly his fingers slid around your front, working on you while he increased the intensity of his movements more than you imagined possible. 

“Eiland!!” you cried. You chanted his name over and over. “Eiland, Eiland, please, I’m so close.”

“V-very…very good,” he groaned. “That’s good…ah, sweetheart, so good…”

He pitched forward and wrapped both arms around your waist, scooping up your middle and putting so much pressure on just the perfect spot on your lower belly that your orgasm hit you like a thunderclap. You spasmed and twitched in Eiland’s arms, screaming his name. He held you and gently ground his hips into you until the last aftershock passed and you went limp. Then he dropped you onto the mattress and snapped his hips hard. It only took a few seconds of that to have him following you over the edge. He finished inside of you, wailing your name.  

You panted as you rolled over. You stared at the ceiling, trying to steady your rapid breathing and your spinning head. Eiland flopped down beside you, equally boneless.

“How does your ankle feel?” he mumbled into the pillow. “Should we go to see the good doctor after all?” The only thing your body felt like right now was jelly. · · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

“Oh, no, I don’t feel like going anywhere at present,” you said lazily. You drew little shapes on his back with your nails. “And it already feels much better.”

“That is wonderful news, my love.” Eiland yawned and propped himself up.  “I don’t suppose I could convince you to at least venture as far as my bath, then?”

“For you, my prince, I believe I can manage that. A hot soak sounds perfect.”

“Prince? What happened to Professor?”

You laughed and kissed his shoulder. You leaned on him as he walked you over to his elaborate, claw-footed bathtub.  Eiland massaged the tension out of your neck while you sat together, waiting for the bath to fill with steaming water, and he even kept at it once you were both blissfully submerged. He rambled happily about what excursions you could embark on once you were back on your feet, what books you might find interesting, what you should have for dinner.

Yes…you’d listen to Eiland talk about pretty much anything. You’d pay attention.

[mierimi]

I’ve been binging To Your Eternity (😭) and all I know for sure is that Fushi would be the type to get REAL aggressive on mic in Valorant

[mierimi]

fushi frequently says things like “why don’t you make yourself more useful” “don’t tell me what to do” “I know better than you” “I go wherever I want” this is NOT an uwu cozy gamer. this immortal boy is a fucking menace in your overwatch lobby

[mierimi]

I’ve been binging To Your Eternity (😭) and all I know for sure is that Fushi would be the type to get REAL aggressive on mic in Valorant

[cafhune]

1 ⟡ Two Hearts ₊⊹ Let’s admire sculptures with farmer! ⟡ bonus page

[mierimi]

.

So not to Overshare but I’ve been a ghost on here partly because I have been working like 12 hour days for two weeks and partly because a few days ago my dad had a heart attack (survived!!!), and I’ve been caring for him and dealing with all that

[mierimi]

life has been really hard lately and there’s been a lot going on and now I am currently drinking boba tea in the US House of Representatives

[zuzuxb]

Celine and Balor

[mierimi]

Y'all I promise I am not dead, life has just been really rough the last week or so. DO NOT EVER BECOME AN "EXEMPT" EMPLOYEE

[mierimi]

Guardians of Azuma point of confusion...

The Celestial Collapse happened 50 years before the start of the story, and after that, the gods were all sealed away or otherwise powerless. We know they got together to Deal with Kamurosaki at some point while they were still active and in the fullness of their strength—so, pre-Collapse, 50+ years ago. They (well...Fubuki) failed to kill him and only managed to exile Mister Beheader out of Azuma. He jumped ship to Adonea, where he remained for all that time until he eventually murderized Clarice's entire family. Makes sense. Also explains why we, 20-something year old Earth Dancer, never heard of Kamurosaki prior to meeting Pilika. He wasn't around.

But...he also ravaged Pilika's village at some point during her life?? She's 25 at MOST, and she was old enough at the time of Kamurosaki's attack to be going on long hunting trips (as per the backstory she shares if you date her). Which indicates that Kamurosaki killed Pilika's people no more than maybe 15 years ago. You know, decades after he should have been expelled from Azuma.

Did he just like...pop back over for a bite of tasty were-animal? But that doesn't work, because if he did, he would have wound up in Celestial Collapse No-Runes Jail like all the other gods. There's also no good reason for him to return until he has the whole Revenge via Clarice plan in motion.

So did he sneak away from the Tagesanbruch to randomly slaughter some remote village? Also seems highly unlikely—no way Clarice would allow that. It's obvious she and Veyron kept him on a tight leash (haha).

The only viable option I see is that Pilika is not from Azuma herself. But if so, did she haul ass all the way across oceans because she heard about some giant wolf sightings in Winter Village?

AZUMA, EXPLAIN!!!

[mierimi]

Cooking up some real freaky Fubuki shit for the next chapter. Rubbing my little hands together like a raccoon.

[mierimi]

I *am* still working on that Balor x farmer who's in love with March smutty one shot. I am. It just hit a major stall because I felt like Balor's voice was out of character, and then things got crazy at work. BUT IT WILL HAPPEN.

[mierimi]

Sliding this request in like a note passed underneath a door❤️

Eiland, March, & balor hcs for a s/o that loves to spoil them in pretty trinkets & gifts

*snatches the note like a cat sticking its paw under the door* Awww, so cute!! These fine gentlemen deserve ALL of the sparkly fun things 😤❗❗

Eiland

How delightful, to receive such pretty little reminders of how often you’re thinking of him!

Eiland especially enjoys when you bring him a gift with one of two particular qualities: historical relevance, or deliciousness. 

He’d be simply over the moon to have beautiful objects that people used and admired in the distant past, anything from an ancient lord’s ring to a teacup dating back 200 years. All the more special because they came to him from you. 

If you do get ahold of some fancy little teacup or dessert plate from the era of his ancestors, he’ll keep it on his desk and use it every day, museum be damned. He gives so much to the historical society. You’ve convinced him to once in a while let something nice just be strictly for Lord Eiland’s use. 

March

Bit confused at first, but always flattered. 

He prefers gifts that have some practical application or at least some relevance to his work. Fortunately, he’s a blacksmith, so literally any ore, ingot, or jewel falls into that category!

The significance of the necklace he wears is unclear, but he would probably not mind another one (that reminds him of you). 

Whatever March cannot wear or use will wind up on his trophy shelf. He’ll grumble about “clutter” but don’t pay that any mind—there’s a good reason your trinkets are on display right next to his other most prized possessions. 

Balor

This man is never one to refuse something shiny, or sparkly, or…really just nice to look at. 

He’ll joke about how they look so nice they must be worth a fortune, but he’s only poking fun (and trying to show appreciation). 

Even with Balor’s commitment to turning a profit, he would never dream of selling any of the little gifts you bring him. They’re all too special; each and every trinket and token is a tangible reminder of your affection for him. 

He DOES have somewhat poor personal organization skills, so don’t be offended if some of your gifts wind up in that big ole trunk he’s got in his room instead of on display. That’s just his best means of keeping them safe.

[mierimi]

Due to some consideration on how old I think Fubuki really is, I've altered one line in chapter 5 of Kindness and Cruelty.

Old: "Every living human was his junior by centuries." New: "Every living human was his junior by a great number of years that grew ever larger and would one day be counted in centuries."

The previous Celestial Collapse seems to have occurred around 500 years ago and we know that none of the current gods were around at that time, and Fubuki is notably the youngest of the current set of gods, so him being multiple centuries old doesn't make a ton of sense. He also just seems a little too insecure about his godhood and a little too out-of-control of his divinity to be someone who's existed as a god for that long. IMO he's somewhere between 100-200! More specifically, I'd say second quarter of that century (around 125-150). He IS old...just not as ancient as he presents himself to be.

[mierimi]

I’m the anon from a while back and I’m totally yelling, “YEEEESSS!” at my rec of Love at the Milky Way Diner being your vibe before humbly requesting the “making their partner squirt for the first time” headcanons for Celine, Juniper, and Adeline. Thank you single-handedly bringing me back to the FoM tag

Welcome back, friend!!! You have GREAT taste in games and writing requests. I hope to see more of your delightful ideas about these ladies in the future. 💕💕 And I promise it won't take so long next time!

Being who she is, Celine first read about squirting in a book. The book being your typical romance novel, it spared a lot of detail and kept everything rather flowery—describing it as a sign of the true peak of pleasure. So. Celine knows that it *can* happen but not what squirting looks like, exactly, or how to bring it about. Does she need to do something other than working you as best she can? Is there a secret technique? Wait, does it even happen in real life? She worried for a while that perhaps squirting was one of those inventions of romantic fantasy that are *technically* possible but will never happen for most, like orgasming in five seconds or ten times in a row. But she really, really wanted to bring you to the ‘peak of pleasure’ and find out if you thought it was, too. Her doubts were very gladly put to rest when she finally got it right and had you gushing like a fountain, your sweetness spilling all over her face and hands. And it was totally better in reality. 

Let’s get one thing straight right off the bat: this may be your first time squirting, but this is NOT Juniper's first time making someone squirt. This woman works dark magic with her hands in more ways than one. She’s kind of mean about it; she’ll bring you to the edge of ecstasy until you just can’t hold back anymore and then she’ll laugh at what a “poor, pent up little thing” you are as your juices spill all over her long, pretty fingers. Juniper is reliably very good at getting you to squirt, if she so pleases. It’s on account of those long, pretty fingers, plus her natural inclination towards experimentation. She knows what buttons to press, literally. Making you squirt is less of a random lucky outcome and more just a thing she knows how to do, and generally intends to do, but if you’d rather not for whatever reason…just let her know in advance. 

Adeline, on the other hand, has never done this before. Many things in the bedroom are new to her. She’s doing her best to study your body and learn how to please you, and she tries quite hard to avoid being caught by surprise and thus risk seeming as inexperienced as she is. Even so, one night Lady Adeline is pleasantly shocked to find that her efforts have resulted in a new conclusion: you spasming and screaming as you release in a more tangible way than ever. She didn’t know that could happen! And it’s a good thing? Well, in that case, of course she’ll be able to do it as much as you’d like. Obviously! First, she’ll need to map out exactly what it was she did right. She was caught up in the moment and isn’t fully certain of what she did to get this glorious result. She’ll figure it out.