#cthoni

[pfpanimes]

☆ GACHIAKUTA • EPISODE 19.

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[miiroki]

𝐖𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 ┅ 𝖹𝗈𝖽𝗒𝗅 𝖳𝗒𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇 & 𝖶𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌! 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝘈𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳-𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘢 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩-𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘙𝘢𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬.

﹙𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹚

NOTE: the writers block has been insane lately, I have lots of asks to answer 😭 so sorry everyone! Have this small Zodyl piece as a slight apology.

The neon lights of the border district flickered with a frantic energy, casting long, jagged shadows against the rain-slicked pavement.

Inside "The Rusty Ladle," the atmosphere was a thick soup of steam, the smell of cheap grease, and the loud, boisterous chatter of laborers and travelers. It was the kind of place where people went to be invisible, aka a perfect stop for a group of raiders moving between territories under the shroud of secrecy.

Zodyl sat at a cramped corner booth, his large frame looking decidedly out of place against the flimsy plastic furniture. He wore a heavy, nondescript poncho that masked his usual silhouette, his eyes constantly scanning the room.

Beside him, his companions spoke in low, hushed tones about the next city, but Zodyl found his attention drifting.

You were weaving through the crowded aisles with a grace that seemed impossible given the chaos of the dinner rush. In one hand, you balanced a tray laden with steaming bowls; with the other, you deftly dodged a rowdy patron’s swinging arm without losing your smile.

It wasn't just your looks, though in the dim, grimy light of the diner, you possessed a striking vision that stood out. A diamond in the trash if you will. It was your aura.

In a world as jagged and cruel as the one Zodyl navigated, your presence was warm. It was a grounded, genuine kindness that didn't feel like a performance.

"Evening, folks! Sorry for the wait, it’s a madhouse tonight," you said, sliding up to their table. You set down a round of waters. When you turned to Zodyl to take his order, you didn't flinch at his size or the intensity of his gaze. Instead, you gave him a small, tired, but incredibly sincere tilt of the head. "What can I get for you? Our spicy marrow stew is the only thing that'll keep you warm if you're planning on heading north."

Zodyl leaned back, his fingers tracing the edge of the table. You looked like someone who had every reason to be cynical, working a thankless job in a border town, yet your eyes held a flicker of something soft.

"The marrow stew then,” Zodyl finally rumbled, his voice a low vibration that seemed to make the water in the glasses ripple. "Make it a double portion. We’re in a hurry."

"You got it," you winked, a quick, effortless gesture before darting off to attend to a shouting customer three tables away.

Zodyl watched you go. He watched how you handled a disgruntled diner with a gentle hand on their shoulder and a joke that diffused the tension instantly. He watched the way you tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, completely unaware that one of the most dangerous men in the Ground was dissecting your every move.

"Boss,” Cthoni said abruptly, leaning in. "We leave in twenty minutes."

"I know," Zodyl murmured, though his eyes never left your retreating form.

When you returned with the food, the diner had reached a fever pitch. You were flushed from the heat of the kitchen, a few beads of sweat at your temple, but that "warmth" hadn't dimmed.

As you set the heavy bowl in front of him, your hand brushed against his—a brief, accidental contact.

To Zodyl, whose life was defined by the cold mechanics of power and survival, the heat radiating from you felt like a physical shock.

"Eat up," you leaned in slightly, lowering your voice so only he could hear. "You look like you've had a long day. Or a long year. Take a breath while you can, okay?"

You patted the table twice and disappeared back into the steam of the kitchen before he could respond.

Zodyl looked down at the stew. It was simple, humble food that was meant for the masses. He took a bite, the spice hitting the back of his throat, and for the first time in weeks, the tension in his shoulders actually eased.

As the Raiders stood to leave, tossing a handful of Galla onto the table, Zodyl lingered for a heartbeat.

He saw you across the room, laughing at something a coworker said, your silhouette framed by the glowing heat of the stoves. You looked up, catching his eye across the sea of heads. You didn't wave, but you gave him a knowing nod, clearly a silent wish for a safe journey.

Zodyl stepped out into the cold, biting wind of the night, pulling his hood up. The world was still gray, still violent, and still waiting for him. But as he began the trek toward the next city, the memory of that small, busy food joint stayed with him—specifically the girl with the warm eyes who, for twenty minutes, had made the world feel a little less like a wasteland.

"An interesting find," he whispered to the wind, a faint, rare smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

[basiljelly]

Cthoni <3

[irbish]

[appleholicc]

I would love to request some Cthoni x fem!Cleaner Reader stuff please! My idea is that the reader is a very cheerful ex-criminal with an axe as her vital instrument and Cthoni's possessive over her? Ofc you don't have to write about this if you don't want to, but I just thought I'd take my chances. Love your writing!

THE NIGHT IS ALMOST OVER

I still don't know where you are...

NOTES: You don't know how much joy you gave me when I saw that it was for my beloved Cthoni I LOVE YOU SM FOR THAT so obviously I'm gonna try doing her justice. Also if y'all can't tell from the reoccurring themes in my fics I just MIGHT like this type of stuff idk tho... Also never feel shy to ask for stuff from me??? I love doing this so don't even worry about that dear

CONTENT: Cthoni x fem!cleaner!reader, established relationship, fighting, reader has a vital instrument, Cthoni beats readers ass, perhaps a little suggestive, pinning, reader wanders (does their job), Cthoni is more protective, manhandling, play fighting, flirting, banter, likely ooc!cthoni, brief mention of a criminal history

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

lightly based on this from our fav prompt giver

The first sign you’ve been found isn’t the sound, It’s the shift in the air that makes your hair stand on end. And it's a presence you know all too well; the kind that prickles at the back of your neck and settles low in your spine like instinct whispering you’re in trouble now.

You grin anyway.

“Bit late,” you call out, not even turning around as you drag your weapon free from where it’s embedded in the wall. “Job’s already done.”

Silence answers you. It's not empty silence, she's there, it's just a lurking silence.

You sigh, rolling your shoulder as you swing the axe loosely at your side. “You know, most people say hello first.”

Still nothing.

You click your tongue. “Rude.”

Then you turn and barely manage to bring the axe up before she’s on you. Cthoni moves like she always does; fast, deliberate, inevitable.

Your weapon meets hers—no, not a weapon. It was her forearm braced and angled just right to deflect the blow rather then of absorbing it. The impact jolts up your arm, forcing you a step back.

“Oh, you’re in a mood today.”

“You disappeared,” she replies, voice flat and sharp as steel.

“And you found me,” you shoot back, pivoting, swinging again. You weren't trying to land a hit, but you were aiming to test her, and to feel her rhythm again. “Looks like everything worked out.”

She catches the handle of your axe this time, and it wasn't gently.

You attempt to tug back, but she doesn’t let go. For a moment, the two of you are locked there; hands gripping the same weapon, tension crackling between you like a live wire.

“You took a job alone,” she says.

You tilt your head, smiling. “You sound upset.”

“I told you not to do that.”

“And I told you I don’t take orders.”

Her eyes narrow. “And yet,” she says quietly, “you keep acting like you want to be handled.”

That sends a little thrill down your spine, and you grin wider. “Maybe I just like getting your attention.”

Her response is immediate. She yanks your axe toward her, using your grip against you— and when you stumble forward, she twists, hooks your leg, and sends you crashing to the ground hard. The air leaves your lungs in a sharp whoof, but you’re already laughing again as your weapon clatters away across the floor.

“Miss me that much?” you gasp.

Cthoni doesn’t answer. She just steps in, pins your wrist, and drops her weight down with her knee pressing into your abdomen anchoring you in place like she has every intention of keeping you there.

“Found you,” she says again, quieter this time as she shifted slightly closer.

You blink up at her, chest rising and falling as you catch your breath. “…Hi.”

Her expression doesn’t change.

But her grip tightens.

“You ran.”

“I was working.”

“You vanished from out walk”

“I was busy.”

“You ignored me.”

You pause. Then with a softer albeit still teasing tone– “I figured you’d come looking.”

That does it. Her other hand snaps down, catching your free wrist before you can even think about moving. Now both your arms are pinned above your head, your shoulders pressed into the ground, her weight keeping you completely, utterly stuck.

“You think this is a game,” she says.

“Isn’t it?” you shoot back. “You chase, I run, we fight, you win—usually—”

“Always.”

You grin. “Confidence looks good on you.”

Her knee shifts slightly, pressing more firmly into you. It wasn't enough to hurt, but enough to remind you exactly who’s in control here. You suck in a breath through your teeth.

“Oh, that’s new,” you murmur. “You trying to make a point?”

“Yes.”

“Bit aggressive for a conversation.”

“This isn’t a conversation.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

She leans down then—slow, deliberate—until her face is just above yours. She was close enough that you can feel her breath. Close enough that if either of you moved just a little—

“You’re reckless,” she states “You could’ve been killed.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“That’s not the point.”

You study her for a second. You saw the tension in her shoulders. The way her jaw is set just a little too tight. The fact that she hasn’t eased up at all, even though she absolutely could.

“You were worried,” you finally answer aloud. Her gaze flickers just for a moment before it steadied again.

“I was annoyed.”

You huff a quiet laugh. “Sure.”

Her grip tightens again.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Call you out?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing.”

You raise a brow. “Enlighten me.”

“You provoke me,” she says. “You push. You disappear just long enough to make me come after you.”

Your grin sharpens. “And you always do.”

There was a heavy silence before you earned a sighed “Yes.” from her.

That knocks the breath out of you more effectively than the fall did.

Cthoni doesn’t look away. “I don’t like not knowing where you are,” she says. “I don’t like not knowing if you’re alive.”

Something in your chest twists.

You cover it the only way you know how.

“So you track me down and slam me into the ground?” you say lightly. “Real sweet of you.”

Her lips twitch—barely. “You respond better to force.”

“Do I?”

“You’re still here.”

You shift slightly beneath her, not to escape, just enough to test the space, the boundaries.

She adjusts instantly and presses you back down.

You laugh under your breath. “You like this.”

“This?” she repeats.

“Manhandling me.”

Her eyes flicker again– down, then back up– but she doesn't give you a reply. That does something dangerous to your heartbeat.

You tilt your head, still smiling, but slower now.

“You’re getting honest again.”

“You’re getting comfortable.”

“Hard not to,” you say, testing her grip again, just lightly. “You’ve got me exactly where you want me.”

Her answer is immediate.

“Yes.”

You swallow and grin again, because you don’t know what else to do with that kind of intensity except meet it head-on.

“Careful,” you murmur. “You keep saying things like that, I might think you missed me.”

Her knee shifts again closer and your breath catches

“I did,” she says.

And for once— you don’t have a clever reply ready.

The silence stretches.

You break it first, because of course you do.

“…You gonna keep me pinned all day?” you ask.

“If necessary.”

“To stop me from working?”

“Yes.”

You tilt your head again, softer now, “What if I said I wasn’t running from you?”

“I know you weren’t.”

“Then what’s all this for?”

Her grip loosens— just a fraction. But she doesn’t move off you.

“This,” she says, “is because you don’t understand limits.”

You grin faintly. “I understand them.”

“Then you ignore them.”

“Same thing.”

“No.”

You shift again— this time more deliberately. She lets you move a little further before stopping you.

“…You like pushing until someone stops you,” she continues. “So I stop you.”

Your smile grows.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You do.”

There’s something in the way you say it that changes the air again. It felt oddly warm and heavy. Her hand slides slightly on your wrist not letting go, just adjusting. Her thumb presses briefly against your pulse.

You feel it spike, and so does she.

“…Still think this is a game?” she asks.

You meet her gaze.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Something like that.”

Something in her expression shifts, you didn't receive a reply but something close enough to a 'go on' in a look.

You tug lightly against her hold, and she lets you– although just barely.

“You chase me,” you say. “You pin me. You get all intense and territorial—”

“I’m not”

“—and then you act like you don’t enjoy it.”

“I don’t—”

“You do,” you cut in, smiling again. “You love this.”

She stills.

“And what makes you so sure?”

You tilt your head, eyes flicking briefly to where your bodies meet, where she’s still holding you down, still not letting you go.

Then back to her face.

“You’re still here,” you say.

Another pause.

Then her grip loosens slightly.

You take advantage immediately. You twist away trying to roll, to flip the position and she lets you get halfway– Just enough to think you might win– Before she shifts her weight and sends you right back down again.

Harder this time.

You laugh, breathless. “Okay—okay, that one’s on me—”

“Dont add fleeing the scene to your list of crimes.”

“you’re unfair.”

“Mhm.”

“And mean.”

“And you’re pinned.”

You grin up at her. “Again.”

Her lips twitch. “yeah, again.”

You both go still after that.

The fight is still there, but it’s quieter now. It's less about winning and more about something else.

Your voice drops a little. “…You could just ask me to stay.”

“I did.”

“You threatened me.”

“That was me asking.”

You laugh again, softer this time. “You’re terrible at communication.”

“And you’re impossible.”

“Yet you keep me.”

Her gaze sharpens.

“Don’t twist that.”

“Why not?” you murmur. “You said it yourself. ‘What’s already mine,’ remember?”

She exhales slowly.

“…You’re not an object.”

“Didn’t say I was.”

“Then don’t—”

“But I am yours,” you interrupt, voice light but steady. “Aren’t I?”

"you were met with silence for a moment before you earned a "yes, you are."

It’s quieter this time, but much heavier. You feel it settle somewhere deep in your chest. You just look at her.

“Good,” you say.

Her grip loosens again, more this time. You could get free now, probably, but you don’t move, and neither does she.

“…Next time,” she says after a moment, “you don’t go without my knowledge"

You smile faintly. “Next time,” you reply, “you keep up.”

Her eyes narrow slightly. “Oh, I will.”

You grin as she shifts again, deliberately re-centering her weight, pinning you just as firmly as before.

You laugh. “Wow. Not even pretending to let me go, huh?”

“Not yet.”

“Youre greedy.”

“how careless.”

“And possessive.”

“and you're reckless.”

You grin wider.

“Yeah,” you say. “That sounds about right.”

She watches you for a long moment.Then, finally she lets go of your wrists although not completely, just enough.

You flex your fingers, testing the freedom.

You don’t run; Instead, your hand lifts with a light, deliberate grip and catches against her arm.

“…I’ll come back,” you say quietly.

“I know.”

“You won’t have to chase me every time.”

“I know.”

“…But you probably will anyway.”

Her lips curve— just slightly. “perhaps so.”

You laugh under your breath. “Thought so.”

Another pause.

Then you earned another sigh. “Get up,” she says.

You raise a brow. “You sure? I might try to escape again.”

“You can try.”

“You’ll just pin me again?”

“Yes.”

You grin. “…Alright. Worth it.”

When you finally sit up and the distance between you shifts from forced to chosen– it doesn’t feel like the end of the fight. It was just the pause before the next one.

And you both know you’ll be right back here again.

I think this might be the worst thing I've ever written. But to get better I gotta fail sometimes😞 Also I never really got being possessive like as in I don't understand it bcs I've never felt it, so I made cthoni more protective

Taglist: @neluvias , @i-heartdinos , @n4tsukis

Please do not repurpose my work or feed into AI. - APPLE DIVIDERS / LACE ARE NOT MINE!

[monosanimegenericzone]

really stupid idea but it made me laugh for like 20 minutes

cthoni throwing the manhole cover is doing things to me

anyway

@capitalblue this is your fault

[dr1en]

I drew a bunch of gachiakuta characters as inklings and octolings because i love both

Brainrot 💔

[chromiumsheep]