Your posts about Zani made me think of Zani as a big handsome ram who watches over your flock, and then you’re the funny sheep who always wanders off and gets into trouble, so she always keeps a careful eye on you 😭
Also rams are super protective so imagine Zani being super protective over you hehkajklajs
Big Horn, Big Problem (Art)
Satyr type of hybird (top human, bottom animal legs), GN!Reader, SELF INDULGE
A/N : I DO NOT DIVE DEEPLY INTO WUWA,keep in mind that any request of Wuwa has the high chance i will misinterpret or wrongly presenting character. This request is okay bcs i love Zani,teehee~
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Reader who is as clumsy as a newborn lamb. Zani thinks maybe you are just clumsy, or maybe you are a trouble maker who got bored easily, or you just want to have reason to bleats.
.
..
..
In few months, Rover comes to check the barn only to see lambs going around.
Saw a gif of pov with Cantarella bouncing on your lap and her boobs jiggling in your face and it gave me..... needs
So here's a super short drabble applicable to any woman you want (I have written down some of my choices), can imagine Y/n with either a strap or cock both work
Her voice came in short, breathy gasps, her arms wrapped around your neck, fingers gripping your hair and her head thrown back as she undulated on your lap. Her hips sought yours, moving with fervor, sounds of skin slapping against skin resounding in the room. Your own hands gripped her hips, squeezing her plump ass and thighs as you helped her move.
Your face was buried in her ample chest, snuggled between her plentiful breasts as she took her pleasure from you, her scent filling your senses, the soft fleshy mounds bouncing with her movements. You urged to touch them, to kiss and suck, but she held you too close and too tight, lost in her own revelry as she approached her release. Not that you were complaining, this sensation itself was exquisite beyond words, after all.....
imagine being banged by both arlecchino and zani. zani would have white haired bush around her base while arle prefers to have hers shaven. while arle’s dick is on thinner side, it more than makes up for its length. i feel like arle’s tip would huge asf though. the type that would be caught in your entrance every time it goes in and out and its big enough to touch that one spot near your hole. zani’s girth would be thick and heavy and it doesn’t matter if she’s turned on or not, her dick always has veins popping and angry.
they’re both very stressed so any sexual intercourse with them is spicy to the t. the best position they like is of course any position they can be inside you at the same time. zani would pound your ass until its the shape of her dick while arle’s dick would be kissing your womb. sometimes they would feel each other throbbing and moving inside you. sometime’s zani would give your ass a few slap while arle pinches your clit from the front. sometimes arle would be biting your neck while zani fondles your breasts from behind.
they’d both have you on your knees as their cocks twitch in front your face. their mush covering your nostril and intoxicating you deeper each time you smell. both of them would slap your face with their cocks and have you thanking and worshipping their dicks the next moment. you’d kiss it lovingly while they smear their load on to your face, mixing with your tears and drool. they’d have you gagging and crying and screaming and you all would go at it for a whole night like animals in their heat. i mean thats what happens when you mate with two monsters.
content: there has been an error inside the vault just right before the end of your shift, leaving you no choice but to add some extra hours to your work schedule.
cw: zani has a dick here because i said so, gentleman zani ngh…., acts of service, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, she really wants that fucking cookie (you), written before 2.3
No, this couldn’t wait until her release. also this is like over 3.5k words uhmmm yes this will have a pt 2
„Have you found anything yet?“
„Not a single thing. The security footage also shows no signs of any intruders.“, a gloved hand guided the mouse over the desk to let the video play once again before your eyes, showing the main hall right before the incident, yet no signs of any abnormalities, even after going through the whole facility thrice. 10pm and you were stuck in the Echo Depository of the Vault Underground because the motion detectors went off right before the end of your shift. And of all of your coworkers you ended up getting assigned with Zani to the case.
Normally you wouldn’t mind, but when you happened to be as attracted to someone as Zani… things became difficult. Unlike you, she didn’t frequent the underground of the Vault often, working more closely together with the Montelli Family in Ragunna City but today was an exception. Carlotta assigned her with the task to retrieve an ancient amulet from the artwork depository after a client expressed his interest in the golden accessory, which was already resting on a nearby table, ready to travel all the way to the city. And if Zani was known for one thing it was getting the job done on time. She clocks in precisely at 8am every morning and clocks out at exactly 6pm. Not earlier. Not later. So needless to say that she wasn’t in the best of moods during the last four hours.
„This is getting us nowhere, the footage is clear. We spent two hours combing through the depository with no signs of any intruders or malfunctioning echos. Not even a single thing is missing.“, the chair scratched over the neatly polished floor when she shoves herself back from the desk, „I’m checking out the room again. Would you like to come with me or continue staring at the security footage?“, her hand came up to fix the position of her tie, pulling with her index at the knot on her neck as an almost exasperated sigh leaves through her teeth.
„I guess that might be the better option instead of further hurting my eyes in front of the screen…“, you followed her footsteps out the security office, close behind if not directly next to her. You may have the needed clearance for this part of the Underground, but staying far away from the freely roaming echoes here was always the wiser choice.
Zani hated working overtime.
But it was halfway endurable with the cute Vault Secretary she can never quite stop staring at. And the fact she has an almost unhealthy obsession with pencil skirts. Especially your pencil skirts. Every single time she needs something from the secret Underground System, it is always you greeting her with a smile at the entrance. A pencil stuck behind your ear, a beautiful blouse stuffed into the skirt she loves so dearly. And it’s always a different outfit combination, too. She never once saw you wearing the same outfit over and over again. Yet, one thing she noticed which remained the same was your heels. The almost murderous stilettos with an equally black bottom brought you closer to her height than you actually were. Right now you were reaching her chin. You’d probably barely meet her shoulder without them.
„There seems to have a fight broken out at the end of the hallway between some echoes… let‘s take the stairs instead.“, a hand was placed on your lower back, guiding you over to the steps. Now, you might love your shoes, but walking down the stairs with them? A perfect recipe for an ankle injury. It‘s not your everyday task to play nightwatch after all.
„Are you sure we can’t just walk past them…?“, Zani already took the first steps down in her own heels, effortlessly, when she looked back at you over her shoulder.
„I‘d have no problems getting past them, but I have a beautiful lady to protect after all.“, she reached her gloved hand out to you, a smile playing around her lips as her compliment forces the heat to flush right into your face (and somewhere else), „I‘ll carry you down, if necessary.“
Sadly, there was no need for that. But you still grabbed onto her hand like your life depended on it while she carefully guided you down the staircase and even though you are already walking down the hallway to the room of the incident, none of you dared to break off the physical contact yet.
„Don‘t you want to get home soon…?“, you blew a lost hair strand out of your face.
„Of course I do, but Lady Carlotta promised me a good compensation for this incident so I will fulfill my duty as usual. And working overtime is not so bad when you…“, red eyes travelled down over your figure, seemingly devouring you, taking in the curve of your hips before finding your face once again, „…have such a lovely woman keeping you company.“, and maybe it was your tired feet, maybe you’re just exhausted but that last sentence surely turned your legs into jelly. You always thought her compliments were just part of her character, that Zani was just a charming person over all, but that seemed to not be the case here. And this thought alone forced your heart rate to increase as if somebody just turned on the motor. „Miss Zani, you truly flatter me, yet I must-”, with one harsh tug by your hand you were yanked behind a nearby pillar with the Montelli Employee pressing you into the cold stone while gently clasping a hand over your mouth to keep the yelp from drawing any attention towards you.
„Shhh…“, she put her index finger over her lips, gesturing you to keep quiet as her figure loomed over you, the soft scent of a neutral soap and an expensive perfume filling your nostrils when you heard it. Heavy stomps that carried down the hallway you were walking up mere seconds ago. Should you be scared about a possible echo attack? Yes. Should Zani‘s alertness concern you? Also yes. Couldn’t you stop staring up at her beautiful face, white strands of hair, falling into her vision, the cold lights surrounding you bouncing off of her head like an ethereal halo? Fuck yes. The loud thumping of your heart inside your ears caused you to overhear the hefty steps fading into the distance, you only noticed once Zani put some distance back between the two of you, fixing the position of her red tie, „My apologies for the sudden reaction. Are you hurt? The last thing I wanted to happen was running into a Hurriclaw with you by my side…“, her body tilted slightly to the right to ensure the bear-like echo doesn’t randomly decide to head back, „let‘s speed up a little. I don’t want you standing around in the open like this any longer…“, and she was already taking your hand back into hers to continue walking before you could answer.
„I-I’m not hurt, don‘t worry about me… I‘m rather impressed by how fast you reacted… I didn’t even notice it?“, an all too familiar pain seeped back into your ankles at the sight of another large staircase, but this time you didn’t have the chance to complain with how fast you were swiped off of your feet by your waist and the back of your knees.
„G-Goodness- Miss Zani- I-I appreciate your efforts but you really don’t have to trouble yourself l-like that for me-!“
Don’t look at her tits. Don’t look at her tits.
„Trouble? Helping out a beautiful lady in need is anything but trouble for me“, she flashed you a small wink as she almost elegantly carried you down the stairs, her grip on you tight but not hurtful. The thoughts in your head were too loud to form a coherent sentence. What was she thinking, carrying you around like a damsel in distress? Beautiful lady? Does she want you to mount her right this instant?
She set you back down with only the most gentlest of movements, a large oak door spreading before you, „now, let’s go through this cursed room for the last time…“, when you followed her you were only met with the same unchanged room. A few echos for showcase were placed into each corner, seemingly sleeping. To your right was a satin sofa placed against the wall, facing the main decoration of this particular place, a holy script that belonged to the Order themselves. For reason unknown, the horned woman only mildly expressed her strong distaste for Rinascita‘s religious belief. If you‘d have to take a guess, it probably was connected to her almost devil-like appearance. Two perfectly curled black horns, shimmering in the chandelier light just as her tail trailed from side to side, even if she was standing still… you wondered if you could touch it… what kind of reaction you‘d get out of her. Your hand barely twitched at your side before you ripped your eyes off of her to search around for any clues yourself, the faster you were done here, the better.
Besides the occasional clacking of heels and the clock ticking away on the wall- your effort bore no fruits. And your feet felt like they were about to fall off by the time you allowed yourself to flop down on the nearby sofa to give yourself a moments rest.
„By the Imperator… this is starting to get exhausting.“, by leaning your head back into your neck, you didn’t notice Zani kneeling down in front of you before you felt a gentle pair of hands lifting up your foot to slide your stilettos off of your pained limbs, the immediate relief rewarding you with a rush of energy through your spine. The other shoe following mere moments after. It was only when you opened your eyes back up that you noticed a pair of black, beautifully curved horns sitting between your legs.
Right, you weren‘t alone.
„What… W-What are you doing…?“, you sucked your lower lip in between your front teeth at the sight of her kneeling before you. Like a servant waiting for her next task. „I‘m just doing my job, Miss [Name].“, a look of reassurance spread over her facial features. If she only knew how badly your heart was hurting at this very moment. How the air between you sizzled with raw desire for one another. At least that was your perception of things. You could only hope she knew what she was doing to you. To your body.
„I-I don’t think taking care of me i-is part of your jo- ooooooh… m-my god…“, your body shivered in an almost sexual relief when she brought her thumb down onto your heel, rubbing firm circles over the skin that’s still covered by an equally colored tights. This felt like the Sentinel itself bringing you their holy message from far above. What kind of luxury is that? „It very much is. I can’t drag a pretty thing like you from a to z for hours on end and not at least relieve her a little bit.“
„Hah… y-you are doing too much- r-really…“, finally, you decided to lean your head back against the cushions as you bathed in her attention. „Mh… seems like we have different opinions regarding that topic. Excuse me for my following words, but you don’t happen to be attracted to me, right?
You blatantly stared down at her, the space between you suddenly growing overly heavy and hot shame sent all your blood up north into your face. To claim that you weren’t fantasizing about the Montelli Employee was a blatant lie, too often you sneaked your hand into your panties at the thought of her. How she greeted you the day prior, a charming smile accompanied by her equally attractive accent when she leaned against the counter you were always seated at. Horns glistening in the light of the crystalline chandelier hanging above your heads. Would she mind you touching them? Asking her about their origin? Too many questions that longed for answers.
Yet, she just asked you one. It would only be fair to answer truthfully, right?
„Miss Zani… I… I-I actually think you are very… very attractive…“, one would think you couldn’t get any redder in the face, but you did. Shamefully so. But mockery was far below her. In fact, it pretty much satisfied her, knowing she wasn’t interpreting too much into your encounters- how you handled her- spoken with her- eyes full of curiosity at the black accessories on her head. Not many people looked at her like that. If anything, she was mostly frowned upon for her demonic appearance. Her relationship with the Order only contributing further to a strained social image, but Zani grew accustomed to it throughout her life. Nowadays she couldn’t care less about what the people where whispering behind her back, let them talk. She‘s got a stable job, an oddly simple routine and an even simpler life. That‘s all what really matters to her. She never cared for stranger‘s opinions until she walked into the Vault Underground for the first time to see you seated at the reception. Going through a set of family heirlooms sent in for further storage, nibbling at the end of your pencil as you didn’t notice her approach and almost dropped the delicate porcelain figure when the first greeting between you both fell.
Zani would be lying if she claimed to have never made up any stories as an excuse to take the secret elevator down south. Now imagine her luck today when you entered the security office earlier, your lungs burning and your beautiful hair tussled beyond recognition from making a run for your life after encountering a bunch of hostile Diggy Duggies.
And now she was kneeling before you. A place where she always wanted to be.
„My, you truly think so…? Aren’t you scared I’ll…“, hands working up the fabric of the pencil skirt she loved so dearly when her voice was laced with nothing but carnal desire, seemingly burning her from within, her dick aching from the imprisonment of her pants, „whisk such a beautiful thing such as yourself away…? Who knows what I’d with you…“, you immediately noticed to what she was referring to. Her appearance.
„If the devil wished to have me, then I’ll gladly consider myself a sinner.“, dangerous. A very dangerous game you were playing here with her. There might be cameras placed at every corner of the room you were currently in, but she‘s done far worse than fuck the adorable secretary in a high-clearance mission. On a sofa that probably costs ten times her salary.
Her next words came out almost strained, as if she were to contain something, „the devil wishes for far worse things, butterfly.“, in truth she was just caught off-guard by your drenched slip. The fabric already soaked of your arousal that it was sticking to your lips, almost translucent enough to notice your hole fluttering every now and then at the almost painful feeling of being empty.
You were feeling quite fertile now to be serious with your pussy halfway exposed to her, but that didn’t stop you from pulling the wet cloth to the side, presenting your slick folds in all their glory to her. Something in the air shifted at your move, something you will maybe regret later on because with no warning- no explanation- she was all over you. Tongue dragging over your lower lips, savoring even the slightest bit of those sweet juices of yours that caused the resonator to believe that she was about to experience her second awakening. Maybe she will start frequenting church more often. Maybe the both of you did because eating the living daylights out of your coworker- with cameras pointed at you? Not even Primus Fenrico will be able to cleanse you of your sins. And not even the Sentinel will be able to remove her tongue from inside of you. She didn’t take you for the dirty kind. To fist her hair to further press her into your warmth as your hips treated her like a personal toy to grind themselves against. Sex was by no means a strange occasion for you but this? This was new. Nobody ever had you crying out for forgiveness and what not in the first thirty seconds, tears clumping your lashes as your hand almost instinctively traveled from the back of her head over to her left horn, wrapping your fingers around the body part that was unsurprisingly hard to the touch and yet-
A groan so ecstatic was swallowed up by your moist flesh as gloved fingers dug themselves into your thighs.
They were sensitive.
Amidst the fog of arousal clouding your mind you couldn’t help but give it a few experimental rubs over the surface with your thumb, only earning you more and more desperate sounds.
My fucking god, you will killing her. As if your taste wasn’t enough, she now had to withstand the torture of you rubbing her in the worst place possible. Her cock wanted to fucking burst through her pants by now, a new pair of underwear was also badly needed. Zani was always the master of her desires and impulses, but now? You had her by the throat, dick or whatever you wanted it to be. Her place was right here, face pressed into your cunt and her treating it like the last supper, sloppy munching sounds echoing throughout the room as she licked, nibbled, sucked and slurped on you for you all you were worth. But it wasn’t enough. Right before your high she let go of you with a nasty plop while working her way back up on her feet, the evidence of your pleasure running down her chin, the sudden withdrawal causing you to whine and squirm slightly underneath her.
„Z-Zani- Zani, that wasn’t fair-”, your voice came out shaky as you tried even out the lack of oxygen in your lungs, chest rising and falling in a rapid rhythm- she had you stressed for good.
„What an insatiable minx you are… My apologies I… hah… I-I just couldn’t wait any longer…“, two hands worked effortlessly on opening up the belt around her pants and working the layers of clothing just low enough for her leaking dick to spring free.
May Imperator protect you.
You weren’t the most religious person but you sure as hell were now when you stared at a rocking seven inches fat dick, pearly drops leaking from the slit on her cockhead, nearly trimmed white hairs adorning the base before fading into a happy trail underneath her shirt.
You will make that fit.
„What…? No words left for me…?“
„I-I‘m going to die if you don’t put that in r-right now… Z-Zani please-”, a whine accompanied the last two words, undermining your desperation for her and the woman might just shoot a load by your pleading alone. She bent over in an instant until the tip was touching your greedy hole, feeling it flutter and clench against her as if in an attempt to swallow her up all on your own. The plush of the sofa sunk down further as Zani supported herself on her knee and strong hands grabbing your hip like you were hers to take, hers to fuck.
„Please, hm…?“, despite all her senses screaming at her to fuck your cunt sore, she added herself into you as if it were your first time. Your answer was nothing more than a breathy whisper, „P-Please, please, please… f-fuck me…“.
When you started your sentence your hand was resting on the satin of the furniture you were placed on. When you finished it was buried in her hair. You fit so perfectly around her. Like you were made for her and her only. Gripping her so tightly upon entrance. Sucking her in as if you never wanted her to leave. And she set off with a pace that made you question her humanity once more, one that had the sofa slide backwards until it hit the wall. Tears were blurring your vision now, making it hard to notice how Zani was fighting every urge in her body to start marking you up but that would be incredibly unbecoming for your work. Sadly. She doesn’t even know what to with herself in the first place. You were so warm and welcoming around her, balls slapping against your ass each time she plowed back into you, the creamy evidence of your shared excitement for each other pushed out between your cunt her shaft with even filthier squelching sounds.
This felt even better than a paid day off. By miles. The tip of her cock kissing your cervix each time she buries herself back into you with a sharp hiss had you moaning all over the place, shameless and greedy little thing you are. But it still wasn’t enough when your blouse was carelessly ripped open to expose the lacy bra covering up your nights, a few buttons popping off the seams as Zani immediately hooked her finger underneath the almost translucent layer to expose your beautiful breasts only for her to connect your nipple with her lips and if you weren’t beyond any coherent thoughts already- you were now. Sentinel forbid someone ever bears witness to the secretary getting split open on her coworkers cock as if it were just another Tuesday.
You just had to delete the camera footage of your little selfmade porn later on- if you were still functional enough.
drabble | f!reader x various f!characters | hurt/comfort | 2.1k
Thinking about the warmth that lingered the air after the bath, you both shared. She sat behind you on the plastic lid of the off-white, ceramic toilet, her gaze stuck to the wall between your frame and the mirror. A poor excuse from how her eyes begged to wander further down your form.
Grey smoke curled in the air as it chassed the ceiling, creating a particular blend of nicotine, humidity, and shampoo her senses knew already too well. This had become some sort of ritual. After any mission you both accomplished, you'd share a bath in your shared apartment. It was logical, after all. It saved on the water bill and avoided any of you staining some part of the house with blood while waiting for the other to finish. Besides, it was obvious that none of you cared about your scarred forms mirroring one another.
The water was long gone from the tub, leaving in its stead grime and dirt from both your bodies. She had followed the foaming trail of body wash that had trailed down the outside of your knee. Resisting the urge to touch, to feel your scarred skin beneath her fingertips. But now, all that remained on the white ceramic was a small poodle of bloody water and a mix of dust and dirt.
Today had been particularly rough, she sighed, her eyes finally falling on your half-naked form. Your hip was plopped against the sink, your frame dressed in only your matching black bra and panties. It wasn't anything extravagant, more practical than anything, really, a simple elastic band and stretchy fabric. No lace nor underwires for it had been picked in a hurry at a convenience store.
And to her, gone were the days when her cheeks flushed and heartbeat sped at the sight of your naked form. A sort of normalcy had settled, the domestic kind that could only bloom in a trusted environment, something she couldn't imagine without you. It was the kind of domesticity that only came from two women with scars rivaling one another. It only came from two humans with nothing left to lose, for every day might as well be their last.
She slowly brought the cigarette back to her lips, inhaling the smoke before blowing it in the opposite direction from you. She didn't normally smoke indoors, definitely not in your presence since you've made it quite clear that you despise its smell. But today hadn't been normal, and it seemed you shared the sentiment since you didn't say a word at the first flicker of her lighter.
Today's mission was supposed to be easy, the 'kill and go' kind of duty. However, things are never that simple. Especially in this line of work, and, especially with the feelings she felt for the woman 3 feet away from her. She flickered the ash in the drain of the bathtub, always letting the heat get closer than necessary to her fingertips. Today had been too fucking close. Your body before her proved of such.
The wounds had stopped bleeding after a while, but the limp in your movements was evident. Scratches traveled your legs, cuts littered your arms, interrupting the constellation of your moles. She'd seen you, meet the ground, and for one frightful second, she saw what she dreaded most, acceptance behind a wall of fear.
She'd saved you, naturally.
None of you had mentioned it ever since and you had remained silent for the better part of the day, but she wanted to talk about it, wanted to grip your shoulders and shake you until you understood how miserable she'd be if you left. She wanted you to feel how she felt ever since you walked into her life.
Not today, though, never today. Maybe tomorrow, if you even had one. If you both survived again.
It was silent but far from calm. Your wet hair from the previous bath often released one or two droplets of water that met the sink in a low 'plop'.
She watched as you racked your hands through it. It was darker than usual and already curling at the ends. You sighed, too focused on your predicament to notice her balant stating.
She took another hit, leaning against the backrest of the toilet as her eyes followed your hands, reaching for the straightener. It was a ritual she was familiar with. The pattern of your hair had always been too bothersome for you. 'It's too much work', you complained when she asked. Maybe that's one of the many things she loved about you, the routine. She loved how consistent, reliable, strong, you truly were. She never knew she needed that in her life until now.
"You know…" she started, her voice not a whisper, but not her usual tone either.
"You don't have to straighten it all the time, I like the way it curls."
She hummed, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin on one of her hands while the other twirled the burning nicotine.
She didn’t look away, her gaze traveling from the back of your head to the drain as she gently shook the ash off the cigarette. You scoffed, but it seemed softer.
"Please, you don't know what you're talking about. You've never seen it."
You were right, to some extent. No matter how damaging it, you always straightened your hair while still damp and sometimes even when it dripped with water.
You leaned towards the mirror, your back creating an arch she wished she could trace with the tip of her nail and watch as it caught on the ragged skin.
Your nakedness wasn't erotic, it never really was.
Finally, she allowed her eyes to wander. As if she hadn't memorized every single dip and shadow of your skin.
"I've seen it." She finally retorted, quiet. Smoke escaped her lips as it curled under the light of the mirror.
"That one time, when you fell asleep in the bathtub after that mission in the city center. Your hair was a mess, wet, wild."
A pause.
"I didn't wake you up on purpose." She added, plastering a smile on her lips in hopes to hide just how much she meant each word.
"It was beautiful."
She tapped the butt of the cigarette against the poodle of bloodied water, a faint scent of burnt paper briefly filling the room before slowly dissipating through the humid air.
She turned back to you, your mouth parting to release one of those bratty retorts you never run out of. Only for a loud curse to fend the air instead.
"Shit!'
It hit like a flare in the dark.
She halted for an instant, reaching for her weapon (which she stupidly came to realize had been thrown somewhere across the apartment). She quickly made her way to your side. But as her frame stood beside yours, all she noticed was the sharp hiss of water touching burning iron. That's when she saw it, the straightener, knocked over, contrasting over the white porcelain of the sink. Steam slowly rose from your forearm, where heat had kissed skin.
You squirmed, a string of charming words escaping your lips as your healthy hand instinctively tried to slap over the burn. She stopped it before you could worsen the situation.
"Damn it, stupid."
In one smooth motion, —without panic, she grabbed your wrist, pulling it under the freezing tap water even as you weakly tried to pull away.
"You always do this."
She murmured, watching as the burn became more prominent under clear water. She didn't let go.
"Always rush into things."
The statement hung heavier than the smoke that still lingered the air. This wasn't about burns, nor about hair. It was about everything.
You didn't answer, she didn't expect you to. The mark on your arm seemed to have settled on a proper Vermilion shade, and when you tried once more to break her grip, she didn't relent.
She could see the tension in your jaw. You were probably clenching your teeth so hard they could break, but you didn't even choke out a surprised noise. Through your pain, your healthy arm reached for support. Finding it in her cotton shirt, bunching up the fabric as you gripped it like a lifeline. Your face falling soon after in the crook of her neck.
It was more contact than usual. You both knew it. Especially her, she'd grown close enough to you to recognize the pattern drawing itself before her eyes. Maybe it was because of how easily you almost died today. Maybe it was everything altogether, but she knew you'd bottled up enough.
She let the tap run, the steam rise, adjusting her hold on your wrist with silent authority.
"No," she sighed, her gaze stuck on the wet strands of your hair. "You don't get to pull away." Her voice wasn't loud, it didn't need to be.
"You can clench your teeth from getting the living daylights punched out of you, walk home with a broken rib, and make yourself coffee as if nothing—" a pause, "but one burn? You fall apart."
She turned slightly, placing herself between you and the sink. Blocking the view of the mirror as if this moment couldn't even be witnessed by the two of you. She looked at you, really did.
"…I saw you today." There, she said it. And regretted it instantly when she felt your body tense. The words tumbled from her lips before she could stop it. "When you went down, when I thought you—"
She cut herself off, chewing on her bottom lip as her fingers slowly released their deathly hold over your wrist to softly trace over a cut from last week. Sliding her hands down your forearm, fingertips dancing off ragged wounds. One from last month, another from a few days ago. Some healed, others not quite but each painted in the canvas of her mind.
Nuzzled in her neck, you didn't answer. Your grip over her white cotton sleep shirt never relenting. For a moment, or perhaps longer, none of you spoke nor moved. Not until you shifted and slowly rose your head from where it rested moments before.
Your damp hair hung over your face, hiding half of it from her view. But it did little to hide the downturn of your lips and the tightness around your eyes. You didn't pull away yet, your burnt forearm having long given up resisting the freezing cold of the water.
After a beat, you breathed out. Your sigh slightly shaky, a mix between a scoff and a laugh. As if you, yourself, couldn't decide whether to shrug it off or finally snap. She didn't know which she wished for, either.
When you finally parted your lips, your voice was rough. She'd go as far as to say hoarse, but that would be too close to admitting how dampness had met her neck. Dampness she knew that wasn't from your hair.
"I hate this," you finally whispered out, never lifting your gaze to meet hers but staring at the mirror instead. "Hate how you… always see it."
The pause stretched as she waited for you to elaborate without her prompting your words forward. She'd learned to choose her words carefully so as not to frighten you away from opening up, akin to a wounded animal.
One breath, then another.
"I saw its face when it lunged at me, and I swear, just for a second, I wanted to let it take me." You swallowed, the grimace on your face making her wince. "Not because I was scared," she begged to differ, "Because, what if we're already ghosts? Awaiting fate's judgment? Just walking around pretending we'll live long enough to get old?"
Your gaze shifted, from your reflection in the mirror to the straightener on the side of the sink. Dancing across the wrinkles that had formed on her shoulder before finally meeting her eyes.
"And then you pulled me back," you croaked, your voice uncharacteristically small,"…like you always do."
A pause.
"Why do you keep on saving me if we already know how this ends?"
Her breath stopped. For a second, she felt the way your words carved themselves in her ribs. Not because they were new, but because she knew. Knew the shape of that truth like a blade in her own palm.
Suddenly, she moved. Almost foolishly, her hands rose, letting go of your wrist and waist to reach up, to tangle in the back of your hair and pull. Not enough to hurt, God knew you both had enough of that today, but to force eye contact. To stop your gaze from fleeting hers. Her voice became lower with something embarrassingly close to desperation.
"Because I don't care about how this ends."
A beat, her thumb brushing over your pulse point, leaning closer to your weary face, the scent of ash and smoke blending with your sweet body wash.
"I only care that you keep breathing until it does, and I'll save you over and over again, just to witness you bathe beside me."
HIMENO, Arlecchino, Acheron, Zani, Maki Zenin, SHOKO IEIRI, Trigger + any of your favs!
Zani, in all her yandere glory—time to study her character and break it down
(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
Yandere Drabble
Zani
Zani’s obsession with you would be like a slow burn, a steady flame that never wavers, always flickering in the background of her composed exterior, waiting for the right moment to consume everything.
Zani starts off distant, not cold, but reserved, overly formal because of the job. She’s professional to a fault, But the moment you tell her to drop the act? That she doesn’t need to keep pretending?
You unlock the gates to her inner world.
Her nonchalant demeanor, laced with curiosity, adds to it.
The best part, Zani's obsession starts with curiosity. She's The one who lets her obsession simmer under the surface until one day—boom—the obsession spills over with terrifying clarity.
She’s neither the type to obsess loudly nor the type to go full theatrical meltdown if someone flirts with you but You’ve noticed the way her tail twitches whenever that happens.
“I’ll walk you home.”
There’s a flicker of something deeper in her red eyes, as she adjusts her tie. A glint of obsession tempered by years of restraint, by a job that demands masks, balance and containment.
Zani is so good at handling people that her yandere side wouldn’t even look like a problem on the surface.
You’ll find her helping “just because she was in the area.” She’s already memorized your habits—how much sleep you get, when do you eat, how much do you eat, are you taking care of yourself, what are your hobbies—every single detail like it's her job to do so.
Zani’s love is not explosive. It’s steady, heavy and inescapable. The kind of love that buries itself into your day-to-day life until you don’t even realize you’ve been isolated, doted on, and protected into complete dependence.
Her obsession is dressed in sarcasm, care and carried on the shoulders of a woman who knows exactly what she wants.
Zani is known for her authenticity and adherence to her principles. She's not one to hide behind masks or play deceptive games. This unwavering commitment to her true self would shape her yandere tendencies in a unique way.
She'd openly express her feelings, making it clear that you are the center of her world. Her declarations wouldn't be flowery or exaggerated; they'd be sincere and direct.
"I don't need to pretend or play games. I love you, and I won't let anyone come between us."
She doesn't want to own your freedom.
She wants you to hand it over willingly.
She won’t say “you belong to me.” That’s too crude for her style. Instead, she makes you feel like she belongs to you.
She sacrifices sleep for you. Skips meals for you. Works overtime just to make sure you’re comfortable. And then—when you even think about pulling away—there’s this aching guilt, because look at her. So tired, so loyal, so devoted.
How dare you even think of leaving someone like her, someone who devotes so much of herself to you.
You wouldn’t dare leave, would you?
She doesn’t trap you with chains. She traps you with care.
That’s how you fall for her, darlin'.
Not with fireworks but With quiet, relentless consistency.
“I don’t like sharing. In case that wasn’t painfully obvious.”
Sometimes, you'd notice her tail coiling around your thigh or waist. If you asked her about it, she'd just say, "Huh... that again?" And if you tried to move away—"Don’t move. I like how it feels."
Zani doesn’t believe in gods, but she'd kneel for you.
Deliciously ironic, Isn't it?
She doesn’t use the Order’s terminology, doesn’t believe in divine protection. But she becomes your devotee in the most human way possible. Worship through acts of service. Love through protection. Faith not in heaven, but in you.
"I don't believe in gods, but if you told me to kneel... I wouldn’t hesitate.”
malereader x Jing Yuan/Zani/Gepard (separated), fluff;
Little Christmas special - maybe it's not entirely about traditions. More likely your "little things" during December
Merry Christmas!
Ps. Okay, these were supposed to be short stories with many characters. But I got carried away... If I hadn't slapped my hands, it would have turned into a completely separate posts [*] But I wanted to include all the information I had in my head and that's how it ended up... Though at least I included two characters you were interested in + Jing Yuan, who sparked this whole idea. I couldn't leave you without a Christmas present, right?
Jing Yuan
Jing Yuan loves Christmas. Why, you ask? Very simple. Because he can spend all his days with you! No interruptions. He shuts himself off from all matters and calls from Divine Foresight. Forbids all his subordinates from contacting him and categorically refuses to leave the house, ordering all his Christmas shopping with door-to-door delivery. Of course, you are also sent on mandatory vacation. It's not that Jing Yuan plans to let you out of his nest for even a moment.
No work, no troubles. Just you and him.
Who wouldn't be excited about full cuddly time with his favorite person?!
That's why when he sees that instead of giving him your undivided attention, you've been decorating Christmas tree for an hour, he launches to attack.
He approaches you from behind, wanting to be sly but you are not surprised. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lurking in the corner of a room for five minutes, clearly impatient. Jing Yuan doesn't get an expected shudder, but he doesn't let that discourage him. He folds his arms behind his back, rests his head gently on your shoulder and begins to murmur softly. He knows that's your weak spot.
-Aren't you tired yet, love?
He looks at you with expectation while vibrations passing through his body begin to affect you.
-I don't know-... Am I?
You ask without even looking at him. Jing Yuan wrinkles his nose in dissatisfaction.
Despite his closeness you try to resist his advances, which he clearly doesn't like at all.
He looks jealously as you gently grab a fir branch and slide a red trinket onto it. Stupid tree. How dare it take all your attention away from him. Next year he will order all these overgrown bushes in Xianzhou Luofu to be cut down.
You can't tear yourself away from him to reach for something new. You want to feel his closeness and don't want to startle him. But at the same time he sees as you reach for another decoration already hanging there, wanting to change its position.
He immediately activates his tail and skillfully wraps it around your forearm. Grip strong and firm. Despite your strength, you know it would be difficult to free yourself from it.
-I think that's enough, my love... You need a little break. Look, two baubles you hung right next to each other have glitter on them. You can't tell me that looks good
He is right and with his tail, which tickles your palm with its fluffy tip, Jing Yuan pulls you onto a couch.
-That's because you distracted me
-Nah- ah- I don't know what you're talking about
He admits proudly, pushing you onto a pile of pillows and sitting down next to you with a broad smile. He wants to snuggle up to you, but first he has to finish his work. So he covers you both with a blanket, reaches for a mug of hot chocolate, shoves it into your hands and brings his forehead close to your lips.
-Sometimes you can be really clueless - he complains when he doesn't feel what he wants.
You quickly reflect on this and kiss the top of his head in gratitude. A satisfied smirk automatically appears on Jing Yuan's face. Full of pride, he decides to leave your shoulder (even though those muscles are extremely tempting...) and settles on your lap in an almost sleeping position.
He feels twinkling lights on him and remembers how much joy these silly trees bring you. Maybe he won't cut them down just yet...
You look at it all with a sense of resignation. At how easily you let yourself be fooled. At how, due to your lack of assertiveness and inability to say no to your fiance, you both ended up on overly comfortable couch opposite the colorfully sparkling Christmas tree.
-But you know we still have to finish the other side, right?
-Yeah, yeah -Jing Yuan quickly brushes you off, closing his eyes. You're not even sure if he fully understands what you're saying- Later -he yawns widely, his mouth open like a roaring lion- First, a quick nap
And you already know that you won't be back to decorating until at least tomorrow morning...
Zani
Zani spends most of the holiday season in a kitchen. At first, this surprises you. She doesn't give off a vibe of a devoted housewife, feeling spirit of Christmas and happily baking gingerbread cookies. Colorful garlands, Christmas music and tacky woolen sweaters with reindeer? Nah, Zani is more like someone who comes home, drops onto the couch and forgets to switch calendar to December.
And indeed, Zani has her own style. Instead of colorful decorations, she chose cozy lights on windows... and on almost every free countertop or windowsill. She switched radio station from upbeat "howling" to more toned down carols with a calm and quiet melody. And she burns all Christmas clothes she gets in your fireplace.
However, you can't dismiss the fact that she tries very hard. Maybe she feels pressure from society? Maybe she wants to live up to expectations? Or is well aware that she isn't like other women. That she may not be as sweet and charming. That she is not able to show affection to her partner in the same way as other girls. That at first glance, she may not seem like the best "candidate for a wife."
Times are changing. And Zani isn't insecure. Since you've already put so much effort into winning her over, now you have to deal with what you've got. She never said it would be easy. She's not overly jealous either. She knows you're faithful and won't leave her for any first girl in pink dress with a squeaky voice. That's not your type. But she also can't let your coworkers make fun of you, wishing you luck on your way home and offering to take you in for Christmas dinner in case of starving to death.
Since you chose her, you'll have all the best in life. That's settled!
That's why the first thing she does after work is go to your kitchen. She didn't expect it herself, but cooking relaxes her a lot. And when it turns out that you like one of her new recipes? She feels so satisfied!
When she bakes, she forgets about her piled-up responsibilities and her aching muscles suddenly loosen up.
You find her at the stove. See her frowning with concentration while tasting the borscht she's cooking. Intensely contemplating whether it needs anything extra. It's adorable to watch her care so much about something.
Zani stirs the soup with a few deft movements and turns towards a counter where she left gingerbread dough. She is slightly surprised to see you, but tries to not get distracted. You don't want to disturb her either, so instead of rushing over for a warm welcome, you just sit down at the kitchen island. You rest your head on your bent elbow and admire your woman.
She is still wearing her work clothes. Including that extremely dangerous tight-fitting white shirt. Tie is thrown aside somewhere. Sleeves are rolled up so as to not get stained with beet juice. Top buttons are undone, threateningly revealing scraps of a lace bra. Woman is covered in flour. Starting with her tight black pants, ending with a skimpy pink apron with frills around the edges, which she is currently adjusting. She unties the knot and then pulls again on two ends of straps wrapped around her back. You can see how tightly they clasp her waist. How they cut into her flesh and emphasize her curves. Zani ties the front tightly.
A sudden wave of heat passes through a woman. Under the force of your intense gaze, she begins to blush slightly. She fixes a strand of hair behind her ear and immediately curses herself silently. It seems that she is beginning to understand all those foolish, naive teenagers.
-What are you looking at?
-Imagining how you would look with lights on your horns. It could be something, don't you think?
You reply casually and she gives you a death stare.
-Hey! I'm serious! - you insist, trying to hold back your laughter - Maybe we should dress you up as reindeer? Kids would finally stop being afraid of you
Zani rolls her eyes and puts the rolling pin aside. Someone should keep you in line.
You hear a click and see her suddenly lose a few inches. She gets rid of her uncomfortable high heels only to walk towards you almost barefoot. In tights, she gracefully takes futher step on a cold tiles. Bypasses island and lands right in front of you.
You can't help yourself. You grab her cheek with your free hand and lovingly wipe the excess flour off it.
-Oh, really? Watch out, cause I might put some horns on you*
Zani leans over you slowly, testing your patience. Then, with a cheeky smile, she plants a passionate kiss on your lips.
You won't be leaving this kitchen anytime soon...
*So, I got carried away with my writing and forgot that this saying may only exist in my country hah srry. To give your husband horns means to find someone else to flirt and etc without him knowing
Gepard
Your boyfriend goes nuts for Christmas trees. More specifically, for a family tradition that has been practiced in his home for several generations. Even if he doesn't keep in touch with his family very much. At least as far as you know...
He rarely talks about his parents. And when he does, it's more mechanical and limited to short comments. There's always a lack of warmth in it... However, he always shows them respect. As a well-behaved noble son should. You do feel that something might be going on. That maybe Gepard and his sister's childhood wasn't the happiest. But you try not to pry. You haven't known each other long enough. And you don't want to upset him. Inside he can be so delicate, even if he acts tough on the outside. At the same time, he never wants to disappoint you, so he would probably step out of his comfort zone specially for you.
Sometimes that's just the way it is. You have to respect your elders and follow the rules set by society. So you're not surprised when Gepard makes it a matter of honour to uphold old traditions. Especially since he seems to have particularly fond memories of this one...
You see, you don't pay much attention to Christmas trees. That means, maybe to decorating them, yes... but cutting them down? That's probably some hard level of Christmas preparations. All you feel to do is go to the local vendor. Walk down the alley for fifteen minutes with ready-made trees leaning against walls and fences. Choose one that has a few more branches than the rest and calmly go home. There are many more things to do that can tire you out.
However, when it comes to Gepard, situation appears to be quite different. Getting a Christmas tree is a whole ritual. And since you moved in together, you are also involved in it.
It starts with excitement...
The closer it gets to December 24, the more often Gepard asks you about your days off. He sits next to you on a couch, grabs your sleeve and with eyes as big and sparkling as coins, asks when you'll find some time to go with him to get a Christmas tree. Your heart breaks when you have to turn him down. Especially since his expression resembles that of an eager puppy.
-I'm sorry, babe, tomorrow I have to stay late at work. Maybe on Friday, yeah?
You stroke him behind an ear and give him a quick kiss on the lips. Warm touch satisfies him for a moment. But then he realizes that the wait will be prolonged and corners of his mouth instantly drop down. He buries his head in your arm as you go back to work on your laptop.
-S-sure... Don't worry about it! This can wait... - he mumbles under his nose.
It doesn't sound convincing at all, but there's nothing you can do about it. With a slight sting in your chest, you set yourself the goal of finding a free moment in your schedule as soon as possible.
But such situations only repeat themselves...
You come home and find Gepard heating up your dinner in a kitchen. He's feeling down. You worked late again and are probably too tired to go with him to get a tree. But he understands this and says nothing. Trying to appear unfazed, he places a plate of steaming casserole in front of you and sits down at the table himself.
However, when you casually suggest an evening trip to get a Christmas tree, he almost jumps out of his chair.
He is so excited!
He leaves a hundred little kisses on your face, and you laugh at his affection. He was really afraid that they would sell out all the nice trees!
Successively, you move on to realisation process...
You are no longer in a store, but in a forest nursery on an outskirts of the city. You decided to buy a tree from the same family that Landaus have always bought from.
At the sight of twinkling lights strung across a rustic fence, Gepard grabs you by the wrist and pulls you along.
It's cute to see him like this. So carefree, completely cut off from daily rules established in military work.
Fresh snow crunches under your feet, while Christmas music plays from speakers placed on top of a lampposts, right next to the hooks for lights.
This trip doesn't take fifteen minutes. It's at least an hour's walk in dark night, during which Gepard sends envious glances at the couples who are quicker than him in their choice and inspects each tree individually. That one is too thick, there won't be room for Christmas balls. This one is too shallow at the top. This one is too narrow. This one is too short. This one is almost perfect, but only on one side.
-We'll put ugly side against a wall, and no one will notice, right?
You ask, slightly tired from searching. Steam escapes from your mouth. You love to see Gepard smiling like that. But it's cold... You can feel your fingers freezing. Especially your right hand, which your boyfriend insists on holding.
Gepard gives you an offended look. How can you even suggest such a thing? His reaction sends shivers down your spine.
-It has to be perfect
He dismisses your stupid idea with a wave of his hand and moves on. Again, bouncing from foot to foot.
Wait.
He turns back and intertwines your hands again.
Now he can get back to work.
Finally, comes a moment of finalization...
After almost an hour and a half of wandering and debating all pros and cons, Gepard finally decides on a perfect tree. Even two! He knows that if it not for him, Serval will spend this Christmas without any spirit.
You thank owners for their kindness, while they bring you hot chocolate from a booth nearby. Old couple recognized Landau and your struggle. In the meantime, Gepard proudly grabs an axe, immediately bringing back childhood memories. He still remembers when his father let him take the first swing (with his help, of course). It was such an honorable role! Servants may have taken care of everything else, but cutting down a green tree was a pride of the head of family. A noble tradition.
That's why maybe you should cut it down... Gepard ponders this for a moment. You are stronger and you are in charge...
But he loves it so much!
He looks at you unsurely and you just give him a encouraging smile, not even realizing the battle that is taking place in his little head.
Okay! In that case, he'll take care of it! And he'll let you pull the back trees to a carriage.
And after it's all over, remorse set in...
After a job well done, Gepard brushes his hands off and props himself up on hips with a big grin.
Once he has achieved one goal, he automatically moves on to another. Truly a wife material...
-Brilliant! Tomorrow we have to come back and plant a new sapling in its place
Right... You hope that finding a spot for a new tree will take a little less time...
Can I get uhhhh..... Zani and Cantarella (separate) being married to a royal (like fifth in line for the throne) from a distant nation and Rover finding out when she meets the man himself when he comes to vist his wife. Like Ella is just flirtily with everyone but the moment her man is back she’s just... clingly. (That girl is touch starved you cannot convince me otherwise.)
The real shocker is Zani, because she catches Rover ‘flirting’ with the reader and the employee is suddenly very possessive in a classy but intimidating way. Commenting casually that the reader is her man and she’s not sharing so back the fuck-
“Between My Hands and No Other’s”
Tags: Zani x Reader, Cantarella x Reader, Male!Reader, Established Relationship, Secret Marriage Reveal, Protective Partner, Possessive Behavior (Classy But Intense), Touch-Starved Partner (Cantarella), Soft Domestic Moments, Public Display Of Affection (PDA), Subtle Power Dynamics, Fluff With A Side Of Tension, Mild Jealousy.
Warnings: Mild Possessiveness, Public Confrontation (Verbal), Intense Stares/Intimidating Behavior (Zani), Overt Physical Affection (Cantarella), Light Power Imbalance, Implied Authority/Power That Could Turn Dangerous, Minor Social Tension Between Characters.
Ragunna’s Averado Bank was built to intimidate—vaulted ceilings, marble floors, and the kind of silence that made footsteps echo like accusations. You stepped inside, accompanied by your retinue, the faint gleam of your signet ring catching in the light. Being fifth in line to a royal throne wasn’t a title that turned heads everywhere, but here, people noticed.
Zani noticed first.
She stood by the reception desk, immaculate as always—white shirt pressed to perfection, red ribbon tied with military precision, high-waisted black pants hugging her form, and that ever-present cape draping elegantly from her shoulders. Pale skin, dark red eyes, black horns curving upward… She looked every inch the Montelli family’s most formidable employee.
And, of course, your wife.
A fact no one here—not even Rover—knew.
Rover was leaning against one of the marble columns, chatting with a junior banker. She spotted you and brightened immediately, striding over with the easy grin of someone who had no idea what she was walking into.
“Well, well,” she said, eyes twinkling. “Didn’t expect to see royalty gracing the bank today. What’s the occasion? Missing me already?”
It was harmless teasing, the kind Rover threw at everyone. You chuckled, replying in kind, but before you could answer, the faint click of heels cut through the air.
Zani’s approach was slow, deliberate—the kind of pace that said she wasn’t in a rush, but you’d better be ready to listen. The shadow of her cape fell across you before she stopped at your side, her gloved hand coming to rest lightly on your shoulder.
“Your Highness,” she greeted, voice smooth but edged with steel. “I wasn’t informed you’d be visiting today.”
“Surprise,” you said, smiling at her.
Her gaze didn’t linger on you, though. No—those crimson eyes locked onto Rover with the precision of a hawk sighting prey.
“Rover,” she said evenly, “I see you’ve met my husband.”
It was a casual enough sentence… until the weight of the last two words sank in. Rover froze.
“…Your husband?” she repeated slowly, looking between you and Zani as if trying to reconcile the idea with reality.
“Yes,” Zani replied, voice still perfectly polite, perfectly calm. “Mine. And I don’t share.”
The statement was delivered with such smooth finality that the room seemed to drop a degree in temperature. Zani’s hand tightened on your shoulder—not painfully, but enough to remind you that the grip could turn into an unbreakable hold if needed.
Rover blinked, mouth opening to explain that she’d just been joking, but Zani continued before she could.
“I’m sure you meant no harm,” she said, that faint smile not reaching her eyes, “but I would suggest exercising… care… with your words. Especially toward what belongs to me.”
The silence stretched just long enough for Rover to nod stiffly and mutter something about work before retreating.
When she was gone, Zani turned to you, the faintest flicker of softness replacing the intimidation in her eyes.
“You should have told me you were coming,” she murmured. “I would have met you at the gates.”
“Wouldn’t be a surprise then,” you teased.
Her lips curved ever so slightly. “Perhaps. But surprises invite misunderstandings… as you just saw.”
Still, she didn’t remove her hand from your shoulder. In fact, as she led you deeper into the bank, her other hand found yours—an uncharacteristic display of affection in public, but one she clearly wasn’t letting go of any time soon.
The Fisalia estate was a masterpiece of opulence and quiet menace—ornate gates twined with flowering vines, halls scented faintly of exotic blooms, and a lingering taste of salt in the air, as if the ocean itself had claimed the place.
You arrived on a bright afternoon, your carriage rolling to a stop at the front steps. Being fifth in line to a throne wasn’t a position that demanded constant attention, but when visiting another nation’s most infamous family, it came with an entourage and an announcement.
Rover, who’d been helping deliver a package to the estate, happened to be there when you stepped out. She blinked at you, then grinned.
“Well, if it isn’t royalty,” she said, leaning casually against the carriage doorframe. “Didn’t expect to see you in Fisalia territory. What brings you here? Sightseeing? Or maybe you’re here for the company—”
Before she could finish, a soft, melodic voice drifted down from the top of the steps.
“My dear.”
Cantarella Fisalia descended like the tide—graceful, deliberate, her lavender hair flowing with light blue streaks that caught the light like ripples over water. Her parasol twirled lazily in one hand, the sapphire at her throat catching the sun. Those vivid blue eyes locked onto you and seemed to glow with recognition.
Rover actually stepped back at the sudden change in atmosphere. Cantarella didn’t so much walk to you as she did drift, her presence as fluid and irresistible as the sea itself.
When she reached you, she didn’t hesitate. The parasol closed with a soft click and was hooked over her arm; then her hands found yours, fingers lacing together as if she’d been waiting years for this moment.
“You’re early,” she said softly, the faintest note of delight in her voice. “Were you too impatient to wait for me to visit you?”
You smiled. “Guilty.”
She leaned in, her forehead brushing against yours, voice dropping to a private murmur that somehow still carried to Rover’s ears. “Good. I’ve been drowning without you.”
Rover’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait—hold on. You two are…?”
Cantarella turned her head slowly, regarding Rover with polite curiosity—as though only now realizing someone else was present. “Married,” she said simply. “To him. Did you not know?”
Rover’s mouth opened and closed. “I… no. I didn’t.”
Cantarella tilted her head, that ethereal smile curling at the edges. “Then you must forgive me. I am not usually so… forward… in front of strangers. But my husband has been far away, and I…” She trailed off, looking back at you with such raw adoration that it made the air feel warmer. “I miss him too much to pretend otherwise.”
Her hands slid up to cup your face, thumbs brushing along your jaw. “Walk with me,” she urged, already steering you toward the gardens. “I’ve prepared tea. And I’ll not be letting go of you for the rest of the day.”
Rover stood frozen as the two of you disappeared into the estate, Cantarella’s parasol bobbing gently over her shoulder. She had seen Cantarella flirt before—light, airy, with strangers and allies alike. But this? This was something different. The dreamweaver of Fisalia clung to you as though you were her anchor in a world that constantly tried to pull her under.
By the time you reached the garden, Cantarella had looped her arm through yours, her body pressed close. She poured tea with one hand, refusing to release the other.
“You’ll stay the night,” she murmured as she set your cup down. “And the next. And the next, if I have my way. Your kingdom can do without you for a while.”
Her smile was sweet, but her grip on your hand was firm—a gentle chain you had no desire to escape.
