HAZBIN HOTEL HEADCANNONS WITH ENDERMAN! READER

New York City ballet production of Midsummer Nights Dream

stan is the only member of the pines twins^2 to never make a deal with bill and i think he needs more credit for that.

ford makes, just, so many deals with his demon boyfriend

dipper literally trades his body to bill in sock opera

and while i will die on the hill that it was never her fault, mabel is tricked into making a deal with him for weirdmagenon.

but stan never gets tricked. the only time he comes close was when he was pretending to be ford but that was with the sole purpose of getting bill erased. never does bill get to him or twist his thoughts. for being the "dumb one" he's surprisingly rational in this was.

nobody matches bill intellectually, ford's fatal flaw is that he thought he did, and the pines family wins because they have an emotional core that bill never had (the power of sibling bonding saves the day and i love it) but ill go out on a limb and say that out of everyone, stan is the only one to match bill's street smarts.

bill's a master manipulator but stan is a professional con-artist with no respect for the law, you tell me who's coming out on top.

stan successfully faked his own death, ran a business for 30 years, taught himself some sort of advanced engineering to repair the portal, evaded local, federal and international authorities from the age of 18, and did it all without any support.

and going back to when he pretends to be ford to get bill to enter his mind, that scene makes stan the only character to ever outwit bill.

anyways this has been a stan pines appreciation post, thank you and goodnight

It’s late, it’s not complete, but it’s here.

Decided to do a more ‘angsty’ take on it this year. Why? Idk. I guess everyone else really had the more lighthearted side covered anyway :P

Thanks Addy for another fun year of this!!! It’s been so good to see all the arts by everyone aaaaaaaa!!!!!

it's the last day you can rb this

I feel like the first time Gojo and Nanami were in the toilet together, Gojo saw how much bigger Nanami was and for the rest of the day just stared at him with the Pikachu shocked face, unable to say anything.

For the entire day, he just

Nanami said it was the most peaceful day he ever had.

Good Memories

(a @semisolidmind Twice as Bad Au Fic)

Ok I wrote another one. This one I focused more on Wukongs perspective ! A happier memory, a happier moment- even in this twisted and messed up bad ending. Because there has to be some sweet moments … right ?

Inspired by this ask!

The noise of the stone corridor was quiet. The silence was a peaceful breath of welcome here where Peaches hardly got a moment of true peace. The roar of the waterfall drowned much conversation here so the foot traffic of the mountains subjects was lessened. Except for the patrols of troops, the top ranking officials and guards, the eyes here were light.

A chance to escape had come. Of course escape wasn’t to leave the mountain. Peaches had learned that long ago. To attempt to get down the mountain- to get to the sea that kissed the beaches below- was foolhardy. She had tired once. Once in that far away time when the trauma of abduction has been fresh, when the desire to be anywhere but here drover her to staying awake at night and planning.

Now, years later, the escape was not to leave Flower Fruit Mountain. Though she desperately longed to do such a thing. Hope though was a hard bird to kill even when caged and clipped. So, to circumvent the need to escape- to release some of the pent up agitation- she had found another way to escape.

The patrol passed the alcove Peaches had huddled herself into without a look. She waited. One. Two. Three. Once they rounded the bend she made her move. Peaches snuck out of one of the many side entrances of Water Curtain Cave. She slunked from shadow to tree, avoiding the eyes as best she could. Once beyond the courtyard, beyond the orchards she felt her spirit take wing. It was the bubble of freedom that she had to take as medicine for the true longing she couldn’t - wouldn’t- ever feel.

Not as long as she had her husbands about.

Like a horse turned to pasture, Peaches kicked up her own heels and ran. She ran for the joy of it and for the enjoyment of it. She let herself believe that she was back in the village. That she was back in her home, beneath its peach trees and with its terribly creaking timbers. That this was only a jaunt out to the woods to enjoy the day foraging and finding morsels.

It was a delusion but it was like a balm to her soul. Too much time inside the mountain and among the talks of conquests and bloodshed dampened her. Her husbands never demanded that she attend councils between other Immortals or Demons but Peaches knew when she attended there was far less work for the servants to do. For one, there was less blood to be cleaned from the stone floors. Of course it would take some of her own energy to be apart of these conversations.

Peaches would dress in the courtly and lordly garments bestowed upon her by The Monkey King and The Six Eared Macaque. Gifts they called them. Blood gifts, Peaches knew. Dressing the part as Queen always put the two demonic monkeys into better moods. Of course, whenever she was present it also became a game of keeping.

This game all depended upon the placement of the two heads of Flower Fruit Mountain. They always were placed in strategic spots- to better intimidate or to better please whatever guest they were entertaining. If there was a demon of hungry standing there was always roasted meat and wine a plenty to drink upon. These times, Sun Wukong would be seated closest to the doors. If she entered the room he would catch her wrists, her hand, her waist. Those claws would grip and tug, and she would be in his lap. Wukong would keep her there. If the King was in the middle of a conversation he would simply stop and lavish compliments upon her. Wukong was more of a earnest love then his darker counterpart. She would be forced to stay in his lap, feeling his hands and the soft admonishments if she tried to move, as the conversation continued.

Peaches wished she could have said it was always unpleasant. In the years of captivity, in the moments of stuck between hope and despair, she had come to find a balance of some sort. After so long being molded and worn down by their attentions, Peaches had begun to tolerate the attention. Wukongs attentions helped establish her as something of importance and a person not to be touched. It helped when those demons had an inclination for human flesh.

Too many times she had been told not to touch the food, the meat, when it was presented on the council table.

If the sworn brothers were entertaining an immortal being with no bloodlust for humans the positioning was different. More lax in some ways but no less imposing. Sometimes Peaches would be able to actually sit in a seat beside or between the monkeys. Other times, Wukong would claim her to his lap and tug and tease at her, a game to turn her to blushing of what things he would whisper into her ear. And, in those moments when Wukong did not claim her it was Macaque who stole her into his seat. He was more touching, less outwardly loud praise. But still enough to burn her cheeks, to make her wish to dissolve.

Water Curtain Cave fell behind her as Peaches rushed forward into the woods and away from her husbands. Macaque was away, on some errand or other again. Wukong would be occupied until late into the evening. A conglomerate of would be allies wished to pledge themselves to the King today, and it would take much of her rowdy husbands time and energy to entertain. It would also boost his ego and, with no worry of bloodshed (unless someone was foolish enough to insult) Peaches had taken her leave.

She rarely got moments alone and she laughed, some of the tension sloughing off like snow in a spring melt.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sun Wukong rarely had patience with beings that held incompetence. He was seated in his spot in the council room, upon his golden gilded throne. The warlord was in full regalia, armour polished to a blinding sheen and staff set beside him. However all the splendour about Wukong couldn’t distract from the loathsome thing huddled at the foot of his dais, blubbering and sniffling like a slug.

The demonic monkey felt his teeth grind and clip in his mouth as the weakling worm of a dragon sniffled and bowed its head in a kowtow. Disgusting. This beast had come asking him to slay his brothers and sisters in the western sea so he could be appointed heir. Wukong raked his eyes over the diminutive fellow, taking stock.

Scales as thin as moonbeams. Teeth as square as a cows. Mane bedraggled and unclean. How filthy. This little worm couldn’t even clean himself before grovelling for my help.

A poor ally if he choose to anger dragons in an ocean a world away. Weak of claw and fang.

“It’s obvious you cannot even keep yourself fit let alone keep a kingdom if I gave it to you.”Wukong waved his hand, bored. “Leave my sight. Maybe once you’ve actually wet your muzzle and had a scrap or two I’ll consider. Get out.”

“But -“

Was this Dragon also weak of hearing? Was it slow of wit? He had dismissed the stupid beast. His eyes flashed.

“Get. Out.”

The thing moved now, scattering loose scales in its speed to escape. They fell like toenail clippings and Wukong hissed in disgust. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose and felt the patience in his body diminish. The king raised a bell and gave it a ring, summoning several servants - not monkeys these creatures were those foolish demons that had imposed themselves in the paths of Flower Fruit Mountains conquests- to clean up the mess of scales.

Wukong had a full itinerary for the day. He had already met with his southern vassals and those positioned in the East. They were reporting movement from a would be upstart exorcist, one that deemed himself a demon slayer. A blood hungry pup. If it was blood he craved then Wukong would deliver it to him. He had set Macaque to the East, tasking him with bringing the man to heel. He had given his brother free reign. If the six eared demon wanted, Wukong wouldn’t stop him from making the exorcist into a gift - of flesh. Maybe I should have sent this whining worm to the East. Macaque would have shown him the ropes of turning an enemy into a boon.

“Foolish idiots.” Wukong grumbled, irritated. The other appointments had been his people which he took gladly. His own residents of the mountain were precious to him. They only asked for the numbers to help in the forest grove harvest. It was apple harvesting time and some of the trees were showing signs of damage from the deer and other beasts. The other group had been some now turned immortals begging for teaching in the east of shape changing. Wukong had dispatched them with ease, tossing their heads to the sea. He would send their corpses off to the visiting Swallow Heart- an upstart creature with a good three hundred beastly birds- as a peace offering.

His mood would have been better if his Wife had attended his talks. Wukong had kept glancing to the side, looking to the opulent doors and hoping they would open. Or her scent would waft in from the corridor, announcing her approach. Wukong felt his mouth salivate a bit at the thought of her. Oh he was lucky. His little Peach. Wukong and Macaques of course. Not just his morsel. Though today… with Macaque away. ..

She was all his to adore and hold and to make squirm with his praises and his demands.

“Trouble my King?”

An attendant asked of him, waking him from his daydreams. The monkey was by his side, face curled in worry. Wukong let the thinly held patience fall away as he gave into rubbing his head. Too much courtly affairs. He usually didn’t mind the task. In fact, he enjoyed pitting his mind against that of the estate he ran, the duty he held. Wukong had an iron will for ruling. He enjoyed the fruits of that labour, the rewards of conquest. One of the best rewards was here in the caves, walking the halls all alone …

“Trouble that can be easily cast off.”

Thoughts of his Peaches, and the irritation of his last meeting, decided it for him. Wukong rose out of his throne and stretched. Though he was a monkey originally of stone it didn’t mean he didn’t get sore in his throne. Popping his back, Wukong motioned to the door. “Walk with me.”

“Yes my King.” The servant walked beside Wukong as he stalked down the Halls. His people dipped and bowed. The servants who had been brought to the mountain and had been forced to serve kept their eyes downcast. Wukong paid them no heed. He had one goal.

“Peaches!” Wukong sang through the palace. He looked in her usual haunts. She had a tendency to stick to habit and Wukong made it his goal to know all of his little sweets habits and places of hiding. The kitchens, the scroll rooms, the bedroom and other such places deep beneath the mountains stone.

“Peaches?” Wukong now questioned. Usually she was so near he could hear and track her just from knowledge of her habitual motions. But there was a lack of her today in Water Curtain Cave.

“Where has my wife gotten to?” He mused aloud. Wukong would have been more worried in the early days of her life on the mountain. Peaches had a tendency back then to plot and scheme and attempt every sort of trickery to escape the brothers. She had tried tricking (Macaque had been present for that one where he had kept her trapped in a riddle game for hours), sneaking (again a foolish thing due to the number of ears between her husbands numbered eight), drugging (Wukong had thought it cute to see her try and ply him with so much wine he became inebriated. That had led to … other things however.) and finally just running.

Running had led to chasing. Wukong had tried to terrorize her just a small bit to discourage the action. Having her run off while he was in the middle of meeting and for him to rise and say “Excuse me gentlemen” and then rush off had first been an inconvenience. He would never punish his Peaches. No, never. When he talked of the terror it had been more to scare her of what could snatch her up. Tigers, leopards, wolves and their ilk. Taking her back to their rooms and tucking her in and locking the door was the most he did. If he had time, if he could ignore the work of the day he would wear her out in other ways. It would either be both or one and the other who would keep her attention. Wukong was a King but he wasn’t a tyrant.

This didn’t deter his little wife. She seemed … more determined, however, to attempt it. Peaches had learned over the years that running away was useless but that didn’t stop her from taking to flights of fancy. Which lead to a different kind of chasing. A pursuit that called to the raging hunger inside him, to that predator. Peaches had given him and Macaque a new game- a game he craved almost as much as he craved her scent in his nose and her body in his arms.

After opening their closet and seeing the small little nest she kept in there empty as well, Wukong felt his tail give an excited lash. The fur on his spine began to rise up in anticipation. It practically shook through his blood. Made his mouth grin and his body begin to buzz as if drunk upon fruit wine.

“A game is afoot. A game all for myself~” Usually these games of hide and seek with their wife became a race between him and his sworn brother. Macaque would enjoy the competition as he had a unfair disadvantage. His keen hearing compounded on his shadow ability let him take a lead that Wukong wouldn’t be able to close normally. But with his brother away from the mountain… Wukong laughed to himself, beginning to shed his courtly attire.

“Do you require anything, my king?” The servant asked from his shoulder. Wukong passed the servant his crown and those few glittery vestments he bore to impress the lesser demons who came to grovel for his power.

“Clear the rest of my meetings for the evening.” Wukong commanded. Where could my sweet have gone off to? To the grove? The stream? Did she perchance head to the woods? The thought of the hunt was already consuming his mind.

“My King that would mean dismissing the Swallow Heart Demon and his Entourage.” The servant set the items delicately on Peaches armoire, being careful to not tip any of the bottles, brushes or powders there. Macaque had sent for that armoire for their Wife. It had cost a pretty penny to have it brought in with the paints and brushes.

It was a warm memory in Wukongs mind, seeing the pure delight in her eyes. That night had been filled with the boys teaching her how to use the more expensive bits of makeup and had led to her learning to paint war paint upon their faces. The warm memory set a second shiver up his spine. When he caught Peaches he wouldn’t let her go- he would let her know how much he cherished her. The happy memories of her face were becoming more numerous now. It set his tail to swaying like a cat who had caught a canary.

“They are birds yes? Tell them to find another place to roost for the evening.” Wukong stretched his legs one at a time. He waved one hand to the servant, trying to rush the discussion along. He had a wife to find.

“I will meet them in the morning when my mood returns to better and more … harmonious thoughts.” All he could see in his head was her. Her skin shining in the light, her hair in his hands so soft. The rush of feeling hit him low in the gut. Was it love ? Was it possessiveness ? Was it possession? He didn’t know but it had his heart thundering. To think a mortal women could bring such a change through him so rapidly…

“I will see it done sir.” The servant bowed.

“Good.” Wukong stretched his arms, pulled his back straight. He had removed all but the trousers he wore. The glory of Sun Wukong had been set aside. Armour wouldn’t slow him- he was the Sage that had rebelled against Heaven. Had almost won. Armour was little hinderance in his silence or his ability to move. It would however limit him to capturing his intended target. Peaches was soft, pliable and would not like a tackle from her husband if he was wrapped all in his battle regalia.

He bounced on his heels. The excited energy wanted to be unleashed, to be set free. Wukong left the servant in their rooms, swiftly walking to the entrance of Water Curtain Cave. His generals saw him and bowed, continuing their rounds. Smaller monkeys, the children of his people came and clambered for his attention. He smiled at them and turned them back to their mothers promising attention later.

The waterfall came into sight and Wukong grinned. Just like he had when he first had been crowned King, the monkey lord bent low a palm pressed to the floor and launched himself through the torrent of water. He was out on the other side in a spray of water. Once on the ground again he looked, listened, smelled.

Wukong was an expert tracker. He could read the signs of his mountainous home. He knew every blade of grass every bend of the leaf in the trees above. Wukong looked for the signs, the telltale notes his wife would leave so lovingly in nature for him to find. There ,beneath the shadow of a tree. Wukong moved swiftly and lightly, faster then the long spotted cats to the far west. The press of foot too large to be a monkey, to heavy to be a cat.

I got you~

Wukong followed her path, enjoying the exertion and the feel of the sun on his fur.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Peaches had found herself a nice little patch in the wood, a small trickle of a stream ran through a copse of tightly packed willows. It had a few gooseberry bushes in its shade and she plucked them eagerly.

She had brought her small bit of knitting, a book, and a change of clothing if she wanted to take a dip in the water. The gooseberry’s were a plus, having been ripened and their red flesh sweet. Peaches didn’t have a snack- running into the kitchens would have alerted the staff she was going out and she did not want a retinue of guards on her tail. It was nice and pleasant to be alone. Hearing the soft babble of the water over the stones, the wind sighing in the leaves. It was peaceful. She could fall asleep. In fact a nap didn’t sound bad—

Snap.

Her head snapped up, eyes widening. That had been too loud to be a simple little bird or just the sound of a branch falling from the wind. She felt her calm wash away in a rush of icy fear. Though Flower Fruit Mountain was possibly the safest place in the world, it did still have the occasional predator. Bear or tiger were the largest creatures to have been spotted on the mountain. Wukong and Macaque assured that the worst of those beasts kept to the lower plains of the mountain.

But what if— what if I went too low?

Her ears strained, her eyes blown wide to see. Nothing revealed itself from the emerald green foliage or the berry bushes. Her hair stood on end as something shuffled in the undergrowth. Behind her. Peaches spun, holding a knitting needle out—

To air.

Another brushing sound, like that of claws across wood. Peaches took a step back, away from the sound. Her heart was in her throat and all the peace of the day was gone in the rush of animal instinct that screamed in her mind.

Freeze of Fly?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sun Wukong followed her trail easily to the copse of trees. His Peaches had much to learn if she wished to our pace him in his tracking ability. The path she took was such a massive trail he could see it from miles away. The demonic monkey crouched low, keeping close to the earth.

She was sitting next to the little stream at the foot of a great willow. His Peaches. Her fingers were red with gooseberry juice, her hair down in the heat. She was the picture of peaceful, the very image of serenity. Wukong felt a desire to grab her to hold her close, to take the juice of the berries off her fingers and hear her laughter and voice.

Gods he craved her.

He held off leaping, held off and observed. Magic would make it easier to drop in on her but he liked the challenge of keeping his current shape. So Wukong lay low, watching. The brothers had a practice of watching their Peaches when she thought she was alone. It was in those moments they learned the most about their mortal heart. How she would sigh, how she always got itchy if she wore too much of the powder upon her face. It was how Wukong learned Peaches preferred bangles over rings. How Macaque gleaned that her favourite foods involved a doughy treat called cinnamon rolls. Little things. Silly things. Treasured things that the brothers would go over and strategize on how to make their precious fruit the most comfortable. To win her favour. Her love. Her attention.

Sometimes she would cry in these moments and the game would have to be put on hold as they made themselves known beyond her field of vision. Wukong hated when she was upset. He knew, somewhere in his twisted heart, that he had caused these tears. That he was to blame for the sorrow that weighed heavy on her.

I can make her happy. No one else saw her sparkle like we did. She’s ours. Forever if I have my way.

But right now he had a game he was in the middle of. The immortal peach he was keeping for her would have to wait. Wukong stalked forward, through the brush. Peaches had laid herself back, body flat to earth and completely relaxed.

Wukong took a branch in his hands and snapped it.

His Peaches lifted herself up and whipped her head in the direction. Wukong had already moved, speed on his side as he circled beyond and behind her. The terror on her face made something stir in him, a protective urge. He would sooth her worry when he caught her. He would pet her hair, hold her close and tell her how foolish she was to leave his safe embrace. She had nothing to fear from him. Only his little sweet fruit didn’t know it was him. Not yet at least.

Wukong let his tail tussle the dead leaves beside him then darted off. He raked his claws over a bit of bark and then zagged back to a new hiding spot. Peaches turned like a doe, alert and eyes wide. Her face was full of fear, full of such open prey-like terror that Wukong couldn’t resist anymore. He rumbled, mimicking the sound of a big cat. Sweet Peaches stared right at the spot he was hiding.

Run little wife, he urged. Come on. Run for me.

At his second snarl, she obliged him. She spun her back to him and took several vain attempts to run. Wukong smirked. And leapt.

He caught her in several bounds barreling full into her body and taking her off her feet. His hand had her by the back of the neck, the other about her middle. They rolled in the air but Wukong angled himself, curling her into him and taking most of the fall. Peaches cry rang in the trees and sent the birds flying. Wukongs laughter was loud and shook through his body as he landed with her. The demon caged her in, setting her hips between his legs so he straddled her. One hand had both her wrists held above her head. The other angled her face to him, the eyes firmly shut.

“Caught you~” He purred.

“WUKONG!” Peaches gasped, opening her eyes to stare right into his face. Wukong felt his heart give a squeeze as the fear melted into ease. Ease with him. It sent a trill of joy up his spine. “You gave me a heart attack. I thought you were some tiger.”

“No love.” Wukong mentally took note of her. No scrapes from their tumble, no bruises. A perfect capture. “A tiger wouldn’t have toyed with you like I did.” Here he stretched his free hand, claws on display.

Peaches laughed. A laugh for him. His tail was swaying, his face inching closer to hers. “I’m glad I’m not getting devoured then.” She said, breath still catching up with her shock.

“Oh my Peaches, I may not be a tiger but I’m going to devour you all the same~” he let the words sink into her, enjoying the blush that coloured her face before he bent down and kissed her. She tasted of gooseberries, of laughter and the earth and ever of peaches. Her lips were soft against his. Wukong moved away from her mouth, wanting to taste her throat, her cheeks, her nose. Kisses he planted along her most ticklish spot on her neck, eliciting giggles and cries of mercy.

The Monkey King felt like he was drinking wine, head getting lighter and lighter while his body relaxed over hers. Only with Peaches had he felt so at peace, so blissful. It’s why he could never let her go. To rob himself of this? Never. She was his and he was hers and that was it.

Peaches pressed a kiss to his nose and he swooped back down to capture her lips. How could someone so soft and small consume me so? He felt starved. He felt parched. Here Peaches was, a bountiful feast and and overflowing cup. He couldn’t get enough of her.

Wukong nipped her neck, tugging her into his teeth to elicit a squeal. She laughed and tried to worm her way out of his grip. “Wukong please! Let me up, let me up!”

“Only when you tell me how well I caught you. Lavish praises on me.” He grumbled. He didn’t want to let her out of his arms. If he could he would keep her here and live in this bubble of joy forever. Peaches blew hair out of her face.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“I assure you I’m not. So tell me.”

“Wukong your pride is insufferable.”

“And your beauty is unconquerable.” He countered and was rewarded with a scarlet Peach. “Now tell me.”

“Ugh. You caught me. You startled me so badly I thought I had gone too low on the mountain.” That had Wukong grinning wide as he now rolled over taking her onto his chest.

“Go on~”

A snort. Peaches was open in only the brief times when his and Macaques earnest attentions had worn down her barriers and aversions to nothing. Here was his adoring and adorable wife. One he wanted to bring treasures and conquer worlds for. I would burn this whole place to the ground to please you.

They spent a time there, the two of them in that grove of trees. Wukong kissed the gooseberry juice from her fingers and Peaches tried to see the good in this moment. Wukong was, a murderer. He was a monster who had taken her from her village. He had killed the villagers. Laying on his arm, feeling his voice and laughter in her body, seeing the tender way he held and touched her…

His love was hard to deny. To match up to the truth she knew so well. He was a murder. The soft glow as his eyes alighted when a butterfly landed on his hand. Wukong would kill again. He set the butterfly on her hand and they both marveled at the changing colors.

Peaches felt a bit more of her resolve break. Wukong and Macaques love was an ocean slamming into her. It was eroding the coastal cliffs she had within her. It had been a constant, driving force these years. She didn’t … she couldn’t remain so indifferent in the wake of such attention. Of such open love. She would never fully be at peace here. However … she was finding a balance.

Maybe that was the closest she would be to the love she originally had showered them both in. Or maybe she would fall head first into that roaring surface and loose herself in their love.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Wukong tugged the brush through Peaches hair, listening to her sing softly in the night air of their bedroom.

Suddenly- the ground became black and Peaches squealed as she disappeared into the earth—

—and popped up in Macaques arms.

“Save some of her for me, Wukong.” Macaque drawled, hands wrapped around her middle in a possessive gesture. They were back in their room, the night air wafting cool tonight. Wukong and Peaches had spent the rest of the day in that copse of trees and upon the mountain. They had walked hand in hand, visited the monkeys and the new babies that had been born to the family’s farthest from the caves.

It had been a day of sweet gestures and, whenever Peaches had turned eyes inward or far off, he had pressed her with tender affection. Drawing her back to the present. If Wukong had learned anything over the decade it was to keep his Peaches in the present, to keep her away from the drifting worry of the past.

They had returned home only when the first stars had begun to spark in the dark sky. Wukong had carried his tired wife all the way back to Water Curtain Cave. He whispered how he would make a necklace of the stars and give them to her and teased out of her sleepy laughs.

Maybe tomorrow will be full of hardships. Maybe she will hate me for what I did. This though- I would kill a thousand villages if I could get a single day of joy like this.

Macaque had returned shortly after dinner, coming into their room to Wukong holding Peaches in his arms and biting more of her neck between brushes. Of course Mac had wanted a bit of her to himself after being gone for a day. Wukong obliged, not bothered one bit.

His brother in arms was still dressed in armour meaning he had probably just arrived back from the East. Not a speck of blood was on his clothing. Wukong would ask him later about how the trip went, when Peaches was asleep. This moment was meant to be a memory of joy. He would not drag kingly duties into this moment.

“I caught her fair and square.” Wukong sniffed, growing a bit jealous at Macaque. He had stolen his prize from beneath his nose- right when he was getting to Peaches too, in her sleepy state. Macaque blinked then stared between the two, his purple eyes flashing.

“You played the game without me?” Wukong heard the bit of hurt and, though he was sure part of it was drummed up for sympathy, felt a bit of guilt. Only a splinter of it. He didn’t regret acting on his own. The game was his to play when he was away. However it had the desired effect on their Wife.

“Oh Mac- no I didn’t know Wukong would be coming after me.” Peaches was so easily guilt tripped. She kissed the darker demons cheek. The sudden flash of confusion and delight passed over Macaque features. His eyes stole towards Wukong, questioning.

Is she happy? Is she giving without teasing? Wukong nodded, the smile on his face like the soft warm dawn. Peaches was happy and that’s all that mattered. She was happy and would give to them.

“He did have a full schedule of meetings.” She bemused. “What.. happened to them?”

“I cleared my evening.”

“Of course you did.” Macaque snorted, half heartedly irritated. His fingers were already brushing through Peaches hair, grooming.

“Nothing was getting done beyond my latest meeting.” At the raised eyebrow of his six eared brother, Wukong waved a hand. “I’ll tell you later but for now- why don’t we have another game of tag.”

“A-another one?” Peaches sat up a bit, looking outside to the dark and moonlight beyond.

“Well you owe Macaque a chance to catch you. And I want to compete again. We will give you … thirty minutes.” Wukong grinned. “No going outside. Just find one of your hidey holes in the Palace, Love.”

“What if I’m too tired for this game?” She pouted and Wukong smirked. Seeing her pout brought the urge to tug her close and erase that pout from her lips all the stronger. He had been hoping she would say it. It’s why he had one of his chefs cooking a very special sweet treat.

“If you play you’ll get a reward~” Wukong crooned.

“That sounds ominous.”

“It’s innocent. I have some delicious sweets being made as a treat. Just a few short rounds and all of them can be yours.”

“Are they …. Cinnamon rolls?”

The Monkey King felt like he had caught her all over again. “Yes”

“… two games. Then no more. I’m tired..”

Macaque kissed her temple and set her free. “Go on darling. When I find you first I will tell you of the sights I saw.”

“You have to get to her first brother.” Wukong challenged. When he got to Peaches he would make her laugh again, demand kisses and more.

“And I will!” The six eared demon grinned eyes flashing. Peaches stood a bit uncertainly until Macaque leaned forward and gave a kiss to her temple.

“Go Peaches. And don’t stop running till you are in one or both of our arms.”

Peaches ran.

prompt: Xiaojiao waking up, very woozy inside a lavish room in Firey Mountain, and can at least turn her head to see a knocked out Xiaotian in the next part of the room as their kidnapper, Red Son enters with some tea

“Hello there!”

Long Xiaojiao raised a brow at the fire demon’s oddly cheerful tone. “Red?” She tried to sit up again. This time, her stomach didn’t lurch. Still, her head ached with the tell-tale signs of a hangover. “What happened?”

Red set the tray down and began to pour the tea. “How much do you remember?”

Xiaojiao’s brows furrowed together. “We went to the club...” she said, foggy memories slipping up. She remembered Red in that gorgeous purple dress and blushing at her and Xiaotian’s matching clubbing outfits. She couldn’t blame him- their butts looked great in those tights. It kind of drifted off after that. “Ugh...I think...” She lied down with a groan. “I don’t remember.”

The scent of tea entered her nose and she sat up with another groan. Xiaojiao accepted the cup of tea from Red, taking a slow sip. “You and Noodle Boy got dared to do shots.” he explained. Oh, that would explain the lack of memory.

Hopefully Pigsy never found out.

“Then these two idiots decided to try and make a move on you,” Red’s smile faded. He looked away with a hiss before continuing with “And I decided to ask you two something I’ve wanted to for a while.”

Xiaojiao raised a brow. “What?” As she moved to take another sip, something glinting on her wrist caught her eye. She moved the cup to another hand and lifted her hand up. A beautiful golden bracelet, set with small red gems, sat on he wrist.

She turned her head to see Xiaotian. He was spread out in starfish mode, but the wrist she could see had a matching bracelet. When she turned, Red held up his hand. A bracelet with orange and green gems glinted on his wrist.

“I asked if I could court you two and you agreed.”

Xiaojiao blinked and her face warmed. “What?!” she squeaked. Red had asked that to them?! “While we were drunk?” Her thoughts raced back and forth. “Didn’t you think we would change our minds when sober?” She wouldn’t have said no, but still.

Red cocked his head. “Have you changed your mind?”

Xiaojiao blinked, feeling her face warm even more. “Xiaotian,” she hissed in response. Her best friend let out a snore. “Xiaotian!” Even louder. “XIAOTIAN!” Red yelped at her yell. At her loud voice, Xiaotian let out a yelp and fell out of the bed.

He looked up with “Wha-Huh?” He blinked at their surroundings. “What’s going on?”

“Would you want Red to court us?”

Xiaotian blinked again. “Uh, yeah, I-” He raised a brow. “What’s with this bracelet?”

Hopefully, more sobering up would help.

I’m tired of people acting like Zhongli is a serious and chill guy who would never cause problems on purpose as if he isn’t one of the biggest menaces out of the Seven. He used to throw mountains at Venti for annoying him. He, the god of history, starts fights among historians for shits and giggles. He tried to gaslight the Traveler into thinking he was totally not at the Chasm guys really Aether/Lumine you must be seeing things maybe you should go see Baizhu. When Qiqi wanted “Cocogoat” milk he was like “Oh yeah sure totally let’s go look for it” knowing damn well it was a wild goose chase. He made the Traveler sing to a flower and then was like “Oh would you look at that” when a Whooperflower jumped out to maul them. I love him. He’s like a cat pushing things off the counter to see how people react. I would pay to see him interact directly with Neuvillette because I know for a fact he’d get on that man’s nerves and argue about water tasting just to feel something. Furina used freedom from godhood to take a nap and Zhongli used it to give psychic damage to anyone who talks to him longer than 5 minutes. Iconic.

COVER ME IN SUNSHINE.

Ways in which your kid calls his dad. Will he get to hear a ‘papa’?

ft. Scaramouche/Wanderer, Albedo, Xiao, Childe, Kaeya, Neuvillette x gn! reader.

cw/genre: pure fluff. Reader is referred to as ‘mama’, you and the character have a child. They’re all girl dads.

a birthday present for my dearest @bunny-rambles 🩵 i’m wishing you the best day today and always, hun ! ilysm, thank you for always being by my side. I hope we can celebrate many many more birthdays together, mwah <3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ note: about this fic… i struggled quite a little with it, and i’m sorry it’s not my best piece… this was a totally new concept to write for me, but i still hope you can enjoy, bunbun, dear ♡

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

Wide indigo orbs meet his furrowed gaze.

Scaramouche is not amused.

Or at least that’s what he wants whoever sees him right now to believe. Namely, you.

Tiny hands cup the Wanderer’s cheeks, big eyes, so similar to his, staring up at him in wonder. The little girl in his arms squeezes his face, a pout forming on her father’s lips. Giggles erupt from her smiling lips, the corners of Scaramouche’s mouth unconsciously tilting upwards.

“You’re amused, huh?” Your husband asks, rocking the baby in his hold. She stares at him, her little arms flailing upward, giggling happily.

“Moochie!” She babbles, trying to stand on the wanderer’s knees, her hands reaching for his hat.

“Hey, hey, now!” Kunikuzushi pouts, securing his hat. “That is not a toy and I’m not Moochie…”

“Moochie!” His daughter repeats, poking his cheek.

He sighs.

“Not Moochie…” Scaramouche’s ears take on a rather rosy tone, especially when your giggles are not exactly inconspicuous, your attempt at keeping hidden just outside the living room, obviously half-assed.

“Pa-pa. Not Moochie.” He repeats, bopping his little one’s nose. “And here, play with this.” He offers, handing his baby a doll curiously identical to himself.

Your eyes soften from your spot when you observe the fond smile on your lover’s face. He might feign annoyance, but when it came to your baby, all the facade was scattered to the winds. Storm clouds and lightning seemed so far away when he was surrounded by the blue skies and birdsong that dawned with your daughter’s hand grabbing his finger.

“Pa..” The little one begins, lifting the doll, as if indicating that it indeed represents her father.

“Pa…” Your wanderer prompts, as he points to the cloth mini version of himself.

Then, the girl’s eyes focus somewhere beyond her dad, tiny hands wiggling and waving, the plush doll still in her grasp.

“Mama!” She exclaims, making to reach for you, trying to climb over the sofa’s backrest, where it not for your partner’s protective hold.

Finally stepping out from your hideout, you walk towards them.

Familiar warm arms wrap around the no longer broken puppet, as your precious baby rests between your two heartbeats. Yours, steady, undeniably human. His, bloomed anew, thanks to you; with a newfound tune, sweeter, gentler, thanks to his little one.

Scaramouche closes his eyes, lashes of now starlit midnights resting on his perfect cheekbones. His head leans on your shoulder, your lips feather-light on his dusky hair, as your hands gently lift his hat a bit.

Your girl grabs one of her father’s fingers once more, the handmade mini wanderer kept close to her chest.

Yes, storms were definitely over for days to come.

✧ ALBEDO

A tug on the leg of his pants and familiar unintelligible noises pull the alchemist out of his task.

Albedo’s features soften when he spots the cause of his distraction.

Putting the notebook he was currently scribbling on aside, he crouches down.

“And who do we have here?” The chalk prince asks, smoothing the golden locks on his baby’s small head.

“Mama?” She replies, her tiny hand pulling on her dad’s clothes.

The gesture is followed by one of Albedo’s gentle chuckles, eyes like northern stars on clear nights bright at the sight of his daughter.

“Mama’s not here now, little princess.” He explains, as he picks the baby up. “They will get home soon, though.” Your child stares at him as if unsatisfied with the answer, head slightly tilted to the side. “How about we have some fun in the meantime?”

Giggles that always reminded Albedo of sunshine days at dragonspine are the answer that follows.

Taking his little one’s two hands in his, the chief alchemist helps his daughter take a few trembling steps, the baby happily padding on the wooden floor.

“There we go, princess!” Your lover chuckles, sitting the girl securely on the beige couch. Teal eyes flecked in emerald follow your partner’s movements, as he rummages through your living room’s drawers.

A few seconds later, more incomprehensible joyful babbles follow, when he sits by your daughter’s side, his hands expertely setting the supplies he retrieved on the low table. She stares at him intently, her gaze drawn to the vibrant crayons cluttering the tabletop’s surface.

“What should we draw today, my princess?” Are Albedo’s words, as he hands his child a light blue pencil, its tip dulled so she can’t hurt herself.

“Snow!” She exclaims, her tiny feet kicking back and forth in excitement, eliciting chuckles from her dad.

“You want to paint snow, my little cecilia?” He asks, combing through her blonde strands. “Alright, how about we paint you, mama and papa building a snowman?”

“Yay!” Your baby reaches for the blank paper, wonder and excitement written all over her rounded features, her tongue sticking out the corner of her small mouth. She always loved to draw and paint, especially when it was with Albedo. And even if her pictures often ended up turning out as just criss-crossing lines or messy splotches, you and your husband always kept every single one of them, displayed as priceless masterpieces on the fridge’s door, the living room walls or your study.

After a few minutes of focused work, three figures start taking form over a background of messily drawn blue snowflakes.

“Look, dearie.” Albedo calls. “Who are these?”

His girl looks up at him, a huge smile on her face as she bites the pencil.

“Mama! Me! And Papa!” She answers proudly, pointing at each of the figures.

Albedo’s eyes widen, gilded sparks reflected in the cloudless skies of his irises at his daughter’s words.

Those last two syllables.

His own pencil falls out of his grasp, clattering to the carpeted floor. In this moment, nothing else exists, save for the jingling echo of his daughter’s angelic tone.

“Papa?” She asks, tugging on his sleeve.

Albedo picks the little girl up, rising her as she laughs, unaware.

“Can you say it again, little princess? ‘Papa’.”

“Papa! Papa!” Giggles leave her throat.

Softly, Albedo places a kiss on her kid’s forehead, hugging her as the both of them lay down on the sofa.

When you got home, silence greets you, broken only by even breaths. Smiling to yourself, you brush a kiss against your husband’s and your daughter’s hair, a new painting adorning the walls after you gently throw a blanket over the sleeping figures of your two treasures.

✧ XIAO

“Do you want to hold her, Xiao? She’s been looking at you for a while.” You chuckle, your gaze softened when it sets upon your yaksha.

Golden eyes, not unlike the child’s currently on your arms, shadow in fear and shame for a moment.

What if he hurts the baby? What if his karma taints her somehow? What if-

“Xiao.” Your hand finds his gloved one, centuries of bloodshed written in the concealed scars. “She’ll be okay.” You reassure, a gentle squeeze, as your fingers slot between his.

The adeptus glances in his daughter’s direction, her round amber eyes curiously observing him.

Your husband’s jaw sets, his lips drawn in a taut line. If someone were to look at him now, they may think he’s sulking, the furrow of his brow apparently an indication to steer clear.

You, however, know better.

“Here, I’m with you, love.” You softly utter, placing your daughter in her father’s arms.

The baby stares up at her dad in awe, her little hands fiddling with the necklace he always wears.

She’s so small… such a pure and precious being… will she be safe with him?

Just as these thoughts plague his mind, the girl curls up in his embrace, nuzzling against his toned torso.

“See? She adores you, Xiao…” You tell him, knuckles brushing against your baby’s soft full cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turns around, a smile drawing on her lips, as she buries herself further into Xiao, whose cheeks have gone as red as the carmine lining his eyes.

“H-hello, little qingxin…” Xiao greets her, awkwardly rubbing her back.

In response, his baby tilts her head slightly backwards, the molten suns in her stare illuminating her father’s rusted gold gaze.

“Papa!” She goes, a little clumsy, it sounding more like ‘dada’.

The vigilant yaksha’s eyes widen, his heart feeling like a million bright lanterns floating towards a starry sky.

“Xiao! She said ‘papa’! See? She loves you!” You excitedly chant, hugging your husband’s waist, as you pepper kisses all over his face. “You are her first word, dear, our baby adores her dad so much. I knew she would!” A smile tugs at your lips, lids fluttering closed as you rest your cheek on Xiao’s shoulder.

His hands hover around his daughter, his hold on her delicate, as if she was a newly bloomed flower whose petals could vanish if the wind blew too strongly.

“Papa…” The girl repeats, her chubby cheek squished against’s Xiao’s form. Her eyes are droopy, a little yawn escaping her as she settles more comfortably in her father’s embrace.

Your adeptus heaves out a sigh of relief, the warmth of a familiar fireplace swarming all around him, as if candid candle flames were running through his veins when the soft snores of his daughter reach his ears.

The conqueror of demons’ mask would be shed for tonight.

✧ CHILDE

Small hands are glued to the window’s glass panes, a pair of bright blue eyes staring awestruck at the image currently taking place in your garden.

Flashes of crystalline cyan flit across the air as Childe wields his double blades, merging them into a spear, his muscles taut at the effort.

The little girl’s tiny hands curl into fists, as she leans forward in anticipation, marine gaze following her father’s movements.

He reminds her of the illustrations she’s seen in the picture books Teucer has shown her before.

She must get closer.

Looking over her shoulder, your daughter makes sure you’re busy with something in the kitchen.

Her plan can be put into action now.

Crawling towards the door on all fours, she realizes she’s nowhere near tall enough to reach the handle.

Oh, but she takes after you, and will not be deterred by something like this.

Silently, the baby makes her way towards the dog you took in. He’s big and fluffy and very peaceful, often keeping company to the little girl. With a gentle pat to his side, she looks up at him with those big blue eyes and, despite his instinct to keep her safe, the puppy obliges to her demand.

Folding his paws, the animal lowers himself to the ground, allowing your daugher to climb. A vivid spark flashes through her ocean eyes, tiny hands securing on her companion’s fur.

And just as she was about to reach the door opening to the garden, a familiar voice that’s lulled her to sleep many a night stops her in her tracks.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, little lady.” You stand a couple feet away from her, hands on your hips, your concern masked with masterfully feigned anger.

Your baby stares up at you, that oceanic gaze puppy-like, much like her father did when you were mad at him.

“Mama…” She mumbles, her little hands signaling to where Childe is training outside, sounds you can’t understand leaving her pouty lips.

You sigh, kneeling to pick her up, rubbing your dog’s chin gently.

“So you want to see papa training, don’t you, little troublemaker?” You prompt, smiling as you tickle her belly. She giggles, wiggling her legs in your hold. “Alright, just this once, and because he’s almost finished with his routine.” You warn, softly pinching her cheek.

Once outside, you both stare at the harbinger, you, with heating cheeks; your daughter, in admiration and wonder.

Then:

“Papa!” She calls, energetically waving to her father, as you have to struggle so she doesn’t fall out of your grasp.

Suddenly, Ajax’s hydro blades vanish, a rare glow present in the eyes that are so like his daughter’s. A wide grin spreads across his sun-kissed features, arms opening as he runs towards you and his baby.

“Papa! Papa!” His daughter repeats, as your husband hugs the both of you.

No matter how cold Snezhnaya’s blizzards blew, Ajax would always have his personal patch of sunshine in you two.

✧ KAEYA

Calla lilies surround the scene, their russet-hued petals aglow in the blue shimmer of the statue of the seven standing amidst the lake.

Dusk approaches, the sky still dyed in shades of tangerine and cherry blossom, the sun, a glimmering halo right above the horizon.

Over frondous grass spotted in sun and shadow, a blanket lies, its baby blue pattern fading into the multiple colors of the snacks scattered above it: portions of cake you baked the afternoon prior; sandwitches carefully cut in triangle shapes; handpicked apples and sunsettias, cut and placed into plates by your lover.

But perhaps the most vivid color of them all was that of the couple sitting atop it.

A couple and their daughter.

“You really liked this pie, didn’t you, little lily?” Kaeya coos at his baby, her chubby cheeks littered with crumbs of the soft cake she’s been devouring all afternoon. Two pairs of ice blue eyes meet each other beneath the setting sun, the girl’s giggles eliciting a chuckle from her father’s lips as he carefully wipes her face. “Mama will be mad if you stain your dress, little princess.” The cavalry captain points out, in mock scolding.

His reprimand is met with a bashful smile and his kid cuddling into him, her tiny hands clutching his clothes.

“Kaeya, don’t tease her!” You swat at his arm playfully, soft laughter leaving the both of you as your husband smooths over your girl’s hair, placing a soft kiss on her head.

“Don’t pay any mind to papa, now.” You reassure her, tenderly brushing over her chubby hands. “He’s a little silly sometimes.”

The girl looks up at you, those iceberg toned eyes wide in wonder at the world that she still has to discover around her.

You ruffle her hair, as she turns around in Kaeya’s embrace, settling on top of his legs, staring up at him.

“Papa!” She announces, taking ahold of Kaeya’s long braid, playing with it. “Papa… prince!” She points out, as she grabs one of the dolls she brought: a boy wearing a crown.

With a knowing grin, you shift closer to your lover, leaning against his side.

“Yes, little sweetheart, you’re right, papa is a prince.” Kaeya’s hand locks with yours over his shoulder, fingers laced together, the warmth of his touch so paradoxical, given the freeze he commands.

“And that is why you’re our little princess.” The knight tells your baby, as he places a stray calla lily on her hair.

“Princess!” She happily babbles, rising her arms.

Instances like this… they truly stoked gentle flames around the captain’s heart, oftentimes concealed behind apparently crystalline walls of frost. As long as he had the two of you, at least during brief moments like this, there would be no need for practiced facades.

Across the distant horizon, even dusk seemed to delay, allowing a few more seconds of luminous skies for the family sitting below it, a flickering smile crossing the anemo archon’s face of stone.

✧ NEUVILLETTE

Slate skies expand above him, his opal eyes restless oceans in the tears they contain, painted lashes dripping in midnight droplets.

Rainbow roses seem to weep too, their petals downcast, the sunrise shades of their blossoms muted in the downpour.

Neuvillette stands alone, the garden of your shared home melancholy; the trees too bare, the grass ashen, the flowers wilting.

Save for the pitter-patter of rusted silver droplets, silence reigns the scene.

The hydro dragon’s mood had a tendency to be mirrored in the heavens over Fontaine, after all.

Sighing, the Chief Justice takes a sit by a bush of lumidouce bells. Fitting, for someone whose shoulders slump not unlike the petals of the periwinkle hued blooms.

“Neuvi, love.” A familiar voice calls him, gently. “What are you doing out there in this weather, dear?”

Long argent locks of hair shift, like seafoam by moonlight, when he turns around, water, from the rain, or his tears, or both, running down his cheeks.

“Someone has come to see you, my love.” You softly utter, beckoning your husband towards the porch, the impending cacophony of his racing mind and falling downpour partially silencing.

Neuvillette’s features warm up a bit the moment he realizes who you’re talking about.

A little girl placidly rests between your arms, eyes of crystalline dusk looking up at her father. Unlike his, hers are rounded, lacking the dark circles frequently etched under your lover’s.

“Look who’s here, little rainbow.” You coo at your daughter, who tries chasing after your wiggling fingers, right as you playfully poke her belly. “Papa is here, do you perhaps want to play with him?”

The baby looks at you, one of her tiny fists on her mouth, as her eyes crinkle up in crescents. Then, she turns towards her dad, arms reaching out.

“Papa! Papa!” She laughs, inclining her flexible small torso towards him.

Neuvillette’s gaze widens, placing his hands around his little girl, protectively cradling her in his embrace.

“Papa is here, sunshine.” Your lover assures her, as he leans down to kiss her nose.

In the distance, a familiar arch shoots across the heavens, the violet of goodbyes and separations shifting into rosy affection.

Golden replaces dull steel, flecks of it dotting the grass, remnants of rain clinging like emeralds to the verdant stems.

The sun is out. The hydro dragon cries no more.