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solelifauna · 8 months ago

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With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 1)

TW: Mentions/allusions to cannibalism, death, and violence.

Three years had passed since that fateful day and your life had only gotten more miserable. Whatever hopes you had for being a part of a family were thwarted as soon as you stepped foot in the household. Bruce doesn't care about you, Dick was straight up mean, Jason (as the pack protector) was aggressive, Tim found you annoying, and Damien simply loathed your existence and would join Dick with his cruelty.

Both Stephanie and Barbara were civil with you, but neither really cared about what you did. Cassandra was nice, sometimes signing to you and giving you scented clothing, but she still didn't really go out of her way to engage with you. The only person who you felt truly cared about you was Alfred.

The first two years you tried your hardest to fit in and get the others to like you. You did whatever they wanted, made sure to learn their interests so you could talk to them, never complained, and made sure to respect the pack's boundaries.

You hoped that eventually, you’d all move past this hurdle and soon you would get along and be allowed in the pack den and other pack activities. Unfortunately, you realized that you would never be considered part of the family or the pack. Which as heartbreaking as it was, was the least of your worries.

You see, there was an ancient custom in werewolf culture concerning new pack members and pack initiation. When a new werewolf is introduced to a pack and their territory, the new werewolf has a certain amount of time to be accepted into the pack; if they’re not, well, they're killed and eaten.

Yeah… quite terrifying and barbaric if you think about it, but mostly only the old lineages still continue this practice. Which is why you’re absolutely fucked. See, typically when children come to a pack they get accepted immediately, pups were (usually) considered precious.

In your case, being a half-blood severely reduced your chances and well, you guessed the Wayne family just didn't like you. Which sucks because you only have until your 18th birthday to get them to accept you, and considering your 16th birthday was coming up, your time was coming to a close.

Or, you could always just run away. Hey! It was an option, one that you weren't sure the Bats would even let happen. Still it was worth a try. Which leads to your current situation in Bruce's office; you were trying to cut your losses a little early.

~~~~~~

“Look, I just feel as though this is the best course of action for your pack’s and my own safety.” Came your exasperated and desperate voice.

“Safety?” Bruce questions, causally flipping through some Wayne Industries documents, as if he doesn't know exactly what you're talking about.

“Considering Damian’s tried to kill me five times, two of his attempts almost being successful, and Jason's pit aggression that has him ready to rip my throat out, you can see why someone would feel unsafe.” You state, voice raising slightly in pitch.

He hummed noncommittally, his eyes still focusing on whatever paperwork he was going over.

“I'll think about it.” He replies, still disinterested.

“There’s nothing to think about! I should be allowed to leave if I want to, and if anything I'll finally be out of your pack's way.” You say, finally letting your frustration show through.

Why couldn't he just let you leave? Did he seriously want to keep you here just to kill– sorry, eat you in another two years?

“Excuse me?” He finally looks up from his work, his blue eyes meeting yours. He was unimpressed, you could tell that much at least, coupled with a dark look of simmering anger.

Okay, so maybe you should tone it down a notch.

“Come on, I'm not an idiot. I know me being here is simply a public formality, good fluff bits for the press y'know. But I'm not part of your family, and I'm certainly not part of your pack. You and the others have made that very clear. So please, allow me to do us both a favor and get out of your way.” You add.

“Where would you go?”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise.

“Where would you go?” Bruce repeats again.

“That–that is honestly none of your concern.”

“None of my concern? Aren't I entitled to know where my kid is?”

“No, you’re not. Sure you're biologically considered my father, but we all know I'm not really considered your kid.”

“Is that what you think?” He questions.

“Am I supposed to think any differently?”

“You carry the Wayne surname do you not?”

“I do.”

“Then you belong to the Waynes. To me. Which means that I decide what happens to you.”

There was the familiar darkness that you saw pooling in Bruce’s eyes, the type that left the Joker a tortured mess, the type that disemboweled Ra’s Al Ghul, the type of darkness that reminded you that Batman doesn’t kill. Oh no, he maims and tortures instead.

You unconsciously take a careful step back.

Bruce’s stare felt like ice, and his words hung in the air, thick and heavy with an authority that was absolute. You wanted to argue, to say something, but every instinct in your body screamed for caution. There was a darkness in his gaze that you had seen glimpses of before, but never directed at you, and now it was there, unblinking, cutting through any hope you’d harbored for mercy or understanding.

Your heart hammered, yet you forced yourself to stand straighter, swallowing down the instinctive fear.

“With all due respect,” you began, your voice smaller than you intended but steady, “staying here for another two years just for you all to—to follow through with that—custom, doesn’t seem fair.”

Bruce’s expression didn’t soften, but his posture shifted slightly, his gaze piercing through you like he could see every thought you tried to hide.

“Belonging is earned. It isn’t granted because of blood,” he stated coldly. “If you truly wish to belong somewhere, you work for it.”

“I’ve tried,” you said, voice thick with frustration. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve followed your rules, I tried with everyone, and stayed out of everyone’s way. But nothing I do is good enough.”

“You assume that acceptance is given on your terms,” he replied, voice as controlled as ever. “Pack structure doesn’t bend to anyone’s whims. Least of all a half-blood who hasn’t proven their loyalty.”

The words stung, tearing open a wound that you thought had scarred over. You clenched your fists, feeling the sharp ache of your own nails digging into your palms. “And what exactly does proving myself look like here? Surviving Damian’s attacks? Letting Jason rip me apart every chance he gets?”

“Watch your tone,” he warned, his voice low, cutting through any retort you’d planned.

You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to take another step back from his desk. Challenging him wouldn’t help. He’d already decided where you stood, and nothing you said would change that. Maybe it was better to save your energy, conserve your strength for the day you’d finally slip away.

“Understood,” you said, swallowing the bitterness in your throat. “If that’s how it is, then I’ll stay out of everyone’s way.”

But you’d still leave when the time comes.

Bruce’s gaze hardened, like he knew what you were thinking. “Your place is here until I decide otherwise,” he said, a finality in his tone that told you any further argument would only worsen things.

He dismissed you with a look, returning to his papers as if the conversation were over, as if you were no longer there. Every step you took out of the office felt heavier, like the manor itself was holding you down, binding you to this place that was never truly a home.

As you closed the door behind you, the cold emptiness of the hallway wrapped around you, and you knew then—you were on your own. If you were to survive this, it would be on your own terms.

It's like clockwork when Alfred calls you down for dinner. The same time, the same routine.

You show up to dinner, hands still shaking and mind still reeling from your disturbingly cryptic conversation with Bruce. But, never mind that you’d just eat quietly and leave like you always do. You moved to your normal seat only to find that all the chairs near the end of the table had disappeared. What the actual fuck. Was this some type of powerplay? Something to imply that you didn’t even have a seat at their table anymore?

You mean, you wouldn't mind eating in the safety and comfort of your own room. With an exasperated sigh, which had a couple of heads turn their attention to you, you grabbed an empty plate and started loading it up with food. You were about to head back to your room when you heard an outraged growl from behind you.

The kind of growl that had you tensing, ready to submit and roll onto your back.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Jason growled out from behind you.

You freeze.

“To my room?” You responded meekly, curling in on yourself as much as you could.

“And pray tell, why do you think that’d be acceptable?”

“Uh–um, ‘cause my seats’ gone?”

Jason only smirked, the feral kind that almost always promised pain to his enemies.

“Oh, but your chair isn't gone, it's right here.” Jason says pointing to a chair right near the head of the table.

You blanked. That's not right. Only pack was allowed that close to the head of the table, where Bruce sat, where the pack leader sat.

“B-But, I can’t–”

“Did that sound like a suggestion?”

You shook your head no, swallowing down a whimper that almost escaped your lungs.

“Then sit your ass down,” Jason growled.

He didn't have to tell you twice.

Immediately you shakily sat down in your new seat, on the left side of Bruce’s seat at the head of the table with Jason sitting at your left shoulder and Dick across from you. Not good, not good at all. You could feel the acidic, green gaze of Jason burning into the side of your face whilst Dick languidly sipped his wine, a sickeningly sweet smile (with way too many teeth to be considered anything but malicious), plastered on his face as he stared at the new seating chart. You let out a shaky breath, trying to get your heart rate back to normal; you were so gonna die tonight.

Thankfully, Bruce arrived and sat himself in his seat at the head of the table; right next to you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on getting air in your lungs and slowing your racing heart. Unbeknownst to you, Bruce shot a knowing stare at the rest of the table. As much as you tried to conceal it, they could all hear your rapidly fluttering heartbeat and your poorly hidden breathing. Tim and Jason both watched you amused; you looked so darn pathetic, sitting there trembling like a leaf.

You glanced down at your plate, picking at the food without really tasting it, hoping that staying silent would help you melt into the background.

Bruce, however, remained still and silent, his presence looming over you, radiating the authority that seemed to keep everyone else in check. But even that felt like a facade; the way his gaze lingered on you for a split second too long told you he was watching closely, assessing.

You forced yourself to take a bite, trying to steady your hands enough to appear somewhat composed. But the sound of your own heartbeat seemed to echo in your ears, loud and unrelenting, as if amplifying the anxiety that twisted in your gut. They could hear it too; you knew that much from the way Jason’s smirk deepened, from the way Tim’s lips twitched with barely-contained laughter.

As the dinner dragged on, every clink of a fork, every quiet murmur, felt like it was directed at you. The food turned to ash in your mouth, each bite only reminding you of the eyes trained on you, dissecting you with every chew and every breath.

The rest of the dinner passed in strained silence, every second an endurance test as you forced yourself to stay seated, to keep your head down. When Bruce finally pushed his chair back and dismissed everyone, the wave of relief was almost enough to make you lightheaded. Quick as a whip, you practically ran up the stairs towards the safety and solace of your room.

When you make it, the locks on your door are immediately fastened (not that it would do much if anyone wanted to actually force their way in). You exhale in relief as you try to collect your thoughts. Fuck, everything was going to shit; the worst part being you had school tomorrow (which thankfully you did not go to Gotham Prep; you'd kill yourself if you did). You groaned at the thought, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes to relieve the ache shooting through them.

Looks like another night of shitty sleep.

Taglist!!: @lostsomewhereinthegarden, @the-rouge-robin, @confused-they

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nickae · 24 days ago

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Hello! Dottore with an GN reader who has a dick. Hair pulling, edging and desk fucking

── .✦ test subject: dottore

cw: sub!dottore, dom!gn!reader (with a dick), hair pulling, edging (multiple times), desk fucking, degradation, praise, overstimulation, begging, dumbification, orgasm control, cum play, lab setting, power dynamics, rough sex, minor restraint/control themes, dirty talk, soft possessiveness, ruined orgasm aftermath

a/n: hi, sorry for writing this so late.... hope you like it.

dottore was always so smug—so collected, hands gloved, lips curled into that quiet smirk like he always knew more than you. like the world itself existed just to entertain his genius. but that façade? it crumbled fast when he was naked over his own desk, sweating, flushed, desperate—tied up in your hands like a puppet whose strings you pulled with each lazy thrust of your hips.

his white coat was half off, bunched around his elbows. shirt open, pants shoved down just past his thighs. his body arched beautifully, spine curved as you pressed him flat against the desk—his cock untouched, twitching, smeared against the paperwork he hadn’t had time to clear.

“look at you,” you murmur, rolling your hips slow and mean, your cock dragging out of him just enough to make him sob. “dr. zandik, reduced to a drooling little fucktoy. what would your subordinates think if they saw this?”

he gasps—sharp and shaky—and jerks his hips back, trying to grind against you for friction he knows you’ll deny. your hand snaps up to his scalp, grabbing a fistful of that silky blue hair and yanking hard enough to make him yelp.

“nnh—fuck—!” he cries out, eyes glassy, back arching more. “d-don’t tease, please—i’ve waited long enough, i can’t—”

you chuckle, cruel and fond. “you can. and you will.”

you pull him by the hair until his back’s against your chest, your cock still buried in his tight hole, twitching from how many times you’d edged him already. his thighs are trembling now—he’s been close so many times, only for you to pull away, pinch the base of his cock, whisper filth against his ear while he moaned and begged and called you sir or master or whatever you wanted, anything if you’d just let him cum.

“you said i could,” he pants, clenching down around you instinctively, involuntarily. “you said if i was good—!”

“mmh.” your free hand slips down his front, fingers ghosting over the flushed head of his cock, soaking wet and leaking still. he twitches violently. “you call that good? whining? grinding? trying to fuck yourself back on me when i told you not to move?”

his lip quivers. that arrogant tone is gone. he’s nothing now but shuddering obedience.

“…i tried,” he whispers. “i really did. please. i need it—need you—”

you smile, something dark and warm, and let go of his hair to press him back down onto the desk. you keep him pinned there with a palm between his shoulder blades, hips snapping into him harder now. deliberate. punishing.

he cries out—loud. no more control. no more shame. drool streaking his chin as his cock drags against the desk edge, precum leaving slick streaks across the maps and reports.

you fuck him into the wood, the sound of skin on skin lewd and wet and sharp with every slap of your hips. and still, he babbles—lost, incoherent, begging again even when he knows he shouldn’t.

“hah—mmph—please, please let me—g-gonna cum, please, i’m sorry, i’ll do anything—”

you slow down. just enough to make him scream in frustration.

“fuck me like you mean it, then beg again.”

he obeys without hesitation—rocking back onto you like a man possessed, groaning so loudly it echoes through the lab, his cock pulsing untouched while he sobs, “let me cum, please, i’ll be good, i’ll be so good, i promise, please—!”

you lean over him, mouth right at his ear, voice low.

“cum for me.”

and he breaks.

he screams as he spills across the desk, convulsing, whole body wracked with the force of it. thick ropes of cum painting the documents beneath him while he trembles uncontrollably, legs shaking, body going limp under your hand. but you don’t stop. not right away.

you keep fucking him, deep and slow through his orgasm, forcing more moans from his throat as the overstimulation sets in. he whimpers, his voice cracking with the last scraps of pride leaving him.

“t-too much—hah—it’s too much—”

“you can take it,” you murmur. “you’re my little experiment, remember? let’s see how far i can push you.”

he sobs, face turned to the side, cheeks red, mouth open, voice a broken whimper: “yes… yes, please… test me—”

and you do.

because there’s nothing smarter than dottore, nothing colder, more calculated—and no one who falls apart as perfectly as he does the moment you take control.

#SUB DOTTORE!#sub genshin impact #sub genshin x dom reader #dom!reader #sub genshin #smut #dottore x reader #sub dottore #genshin x reader smut #gender neutral #dom reader #genshin smut #dottore #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #sub men #sub nsft

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reidswhre · 11 months ago

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can you figure me out? ; spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you try everything possible so that spencer realizes that you are completely in love with him, but he just doesn't seem to notice it.

warnings: i had spencer from season 2 in mind, nothing dw!

a/n: I had this draft saved and I was improving it to be able to post it, I hope you enjoy it! I have a couple of requests, thank you very much!! I hope to be able to make them soon. 💗 By the way, english is not my first language, let me know any mistakes, have a beautiful day! 💘

Everyone at the BAU knew you were completely in love with Spencer Reid.

Except for Spencer.

Which was sometimes funny—most of the time it was—but other times it was frustrating. It didn’t seem logical to you how a genius with an IQ of 187 couldn’t realize that he was basically the love of your life. It’s not like you were trying to hide it or something. He’s just oblivious.

Because of this, Morgan and García proposed a little game to you.

“I bet you could flirt with him all day, and he’d think you were just being friendly,” Penelope laughed.

You lightly bumped your forehead against your desk, staying there defeated. “Don’t even say that,” you mumbled against the desk.

“Hey, hey, don’t be sad, cutie,” Derek gently lifted your head so you could see him. “It’s not as bad as it seems. He’s just… something else,” he laughed.

“Don’t say that,” you frowned at Derek.

Derek raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Hey, it's okay, I'm not offending your husband."

"He's not my husband, and he never will be if he never pays attention to me." You sighed.

"Look, sweetie, flirt with him all day, no filter." She laughed.

Derek played along. "That's right, let's see how hard it is for him to notice." He laughed too.

"Stop playing around, this is serious, don't be like that." You were quite sad.

"We're being serious too!" Derek exclaimed.

"I mean, it's what you want, right? For him to notice. It's not possible that you flirt with him all day and he doesn't notice." Penelope added. "And listen, babe, if he doesn't notice this, I'm sorry to say it, but he's ignoring you," she explained to you.

You groaned and rested your head on the desk.

After a while, you started thinking about what Morgan and Garcia had said. After all, you had nothing to lose; in the end, it was basically what you did every day. Although, of course, this was a bit over the top, but who knows if it was over the top enough for Spencer to notice.

"Hey, you." You smiled at Spencer, who was in the office kitchen making one of his coffees.

Spencer looked at you. "Oh, hey." He gave you a smile, one of those where he just closed his lips without showing his teeth. Pretty typical of him.

"Those glasses?" You smiled, trying to make conversation.

Of course, you had noticed them; how could you not? He started wearing them about a week ago, and he looked dreamy. So much so that you thought you stared at him for about five minutes straight a couple of days ago while Hotch was explaining a new case.

"Mm, the contacts were really bothering my eyes lately." He explained while continuing to prepare his coffee.

"Well, they look great on you; you look great, really handsome." You began your mission.

"They’re nothing special. I had to get anti-reflective coating because the glare was bothering me too. It’s a coating applied to both surfaces of the lenses to reduce the glare caused by reflected light." He started explaining, as he always did, not noticing your attempt to tell him he looked good.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 1 - 0 : You.

"Ah—right, yeah." You sighed and watched him leave the kitchen, giving you another one of his smiles.

Second attempt.

You were at your desks, which were next to each other, finishing paperwork from the last case.

"Are you done? It's almost lunchtime," you asked Spencer.

"I still have to finish the geographical profile," he said, looking at his papers. "But I can do it after lunch." He looked at you.

"Great! I was thinking, would you like to go to that sandwich place a couple of blocks away?"

"Oh, sure! Tito’s, right?" He said, recalling the name of the place. "Sounds great." He smiled at you.

You were a bit surprised. "Oh, really? Great—Yeah, perfect." You stumbled over your words a bit—he had just accepted a date with you!

"Great, I'll tell the others," he said as he tidied up his desk.

"Okay, sure," you replied without thinking. "Wait—what? Spencer—" Maybe you thought he accepted a date with you too soon.

"Morgan loves that place," he told you. "See you later, okay?" He smiled and left.

You sighed.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 2 - 0 : You.

You sighed again.

Hotch and JJ explained a new case to you—apparently, there was a serial killer in Mill Creek, and this other guy who called himself the "Empty Man." It seemed they had some sort of rivalry and were killing women without restraint. So now, you guys would have to travel to St. Louis to help solve the case.

Everyone boarded the plane, which took off immediately after the case was announced. Everyone was scattered around the plane, analyzing the case. You were sitting next to Reid, across from the little table that those seats have.

After that tragic and terrifying lunch, you were left thinking about the possibility that Spencer did know and was ignoring you to avoid hurting you. Maybe he just didn’t like you, which wasn’t such a big deal. But you wished that if that were the case, he would at least tell you.

"Are you okay?" you heard the voice of the man from Las Vegas next to you.

"Hm? Yeah, yeah, of course," you replied instinctively.

"You don’t seem like it," he said with a frown.

Great, now he was starting to notice things.

"Really, I’m fine. I was just—thinking," you replied honestly.

"About what?" he asked.

"About you," you blurted out. The truth was, it was now or never; it didn’t matter whether he felt the same way or not.

"Me? Why about me?" he asked, even more confused.

"You're incredible, Reid," you laughed—it was better than crying. "I’ve been trying all day to get you to notice how much I like you! And you don’t understand anything!"

Awesome.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 3 - 0 : You.

Double awesome.

"Do you like me?" Spencer said, completely clueless.

"Of course i do! Ever since I got here. And I've tried everything but—" You sighed. "You don't like me... And that's okay, I don't expect you to, I just wish you'd tell me, you know?"

Spencer let out the breath he was holding and laughed a little. "Where did you get that from? How do you think I don't like you?"

"I do?" You opened your mouth in surprise, which made him laugh.

"Of course you do," he laughed. "I just thought you were being nice to me, you're nice to everyone, I didn't think it was special with me."

"Of course you are!" You laughed.

"According to April Bleske-Rechek, the psychologist leading the task force that studied the relationship between men and women, males and females have a very different perception of the messages they receive from the opposite sex." Reid started to Reidplain as he always did. "This, especially in the case of men, leads them to misinterpret signals."

"Really?" You said sarcastically, leaning on your hand, watching him as he explained.

"Yes, which is why I thought I was misinterpreting you." He shrugged.

"Not at all." You smiled as you brushed a strand of hair off his forehead.

"We're in the middle of a case, I'd appreciate it if you two could behave," Hotch said from the back of the plane.

"Oh, right, right, yeah—I'm sorry," both of you mumbled a bunch of incoherent apologies.

Then you looked at each other out of the corner of your eye with a small smile.

Awesome.

You: 1 - 3: Spencer’s obliviousness.

Triple awesome.

Take that, silly mental scoreboard.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg #matthew gray gubbler x reader #criminal minds #request

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lumiambrose · 8 months ago

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✰ full house

the devils month - day thirtyone

featuring: jing yuan x den heng il x blade x f!reader

summary: the general's "old friends" pay him a visit, where they get to meet you, his cute little toy for the first time.

tags: smut, foursome/gangbang, choking, spitting, implied squirting, face fucking, praise, degredation, p in v, finishing inside, triple penetration, dan heng has two cocks fight me.

wc: 3.5k

your arrangement with the general is quite simple. he makes sure you don’t get drafted into the cloud knights, despite your family's wishes, and in return, you keep him company. you see, being general is quite a straining duty, and therefore the jing yuan rarely has free time of his own; hence, relationships and intimacy are almost unknown to him. of course, until you came along. your little deal has been going on for a while now; it has almost been a year since it started, and life is great. he dresses you up, treats you to the finest dishes in the luofu and makes your eyes roll back in the best way possible.

the only “downside” is that you can’t deny his sexual advantages, but ninety-nine percent of the time, you’re in need of good dick anyways. today is no exception.

right now you’re lounging in the general’s office while he’s managing some paperwork. your day had been mostly uneventful—that was until the doors to his office abruptly opened. in walk 2 men, one with dark hair and a sour expression, the other definitely a vhidyadara, with a more neutral expression. despite your shock, the general doesn’t seem fazed at all. in fact, he seems quite happy. he gives them a short nod as they enter his office, taking in the familiar room and making themselves at home.

it’s not long until their eyes settle on you, confused as to what a mere thing like you is doing in the great general's office.

“what is that doing in here?” the dark-haired man spouts, clearly unimpressed by your presence.

the general lets out a chuckle, “her? don’t mind her. she’s simply keeping me company.” he finally looks up, doing a one-over on the three of you, giving you a short smile as he turns back to face his friends.

“how unbecoming of you, dear general. keeping a concubine at your disposal,” the dark haired man gestures dismissively in your direction, stepping further into the room, closing the distance between him and the general.

jing yuan steps away from his desk, making his way down to the lower area of his office, past his friends, and to the sofa, occupying the space next to you. “now, now, blade, no need to be so aggressive,” he grips your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze. “or are you perhaps jealous? she’s quite the pretty thing, isn’t she?”

the man you now know as blade scoffs, rolling his eyes at the display. "jealous? i have no reason to be." he stalks closer, looming over the two of you on the couch. "i just think it's pathetic, is all. a man of your stature, reduced to rutting with some common whore."

the other man finally speaks up, his calm voice cutting through the tension. "enough. it’s not our position to interfere in jing yuan’s affairs." he steps forward, making his way to the sofa. "although, i must agree, she’s quite a stunning catch, general."

jing yuan smiles, his gaze never leaving yours as he addresses his friends. "indeed, den heng, she is quite stunning. and very talented as well." his hand slides higher up your thigh, his fingers tracing teasing patterns against your skin. “especially on her knees.”

dan heng chuckles, his teal eyes glinting ever so slightly. "i can certainly see the appeal." he takes a seat on the other side of you, his large frame dwarfing your own. "perhaps we should stay and enjoy the general's hospitality a while longer, hmm?"

blade looks like he wants to object, but something in jing yuan's expression stops him. he settles for a scowl, crossing his arms over his chest. "fine. but make sure your whore behaves herself.”

you do your best to pay blade no attention, instead glancing over at the two men on either side of you. the general's touch is igniting a familiar heat in your core, letting sinful thoughts fill your head. a blush slowly creeps up your cheeks.

dan heng notices your reaction, a slow smile spreading across his face. "looks like the lady is eager to please." his hand joins jing juan's on your thigh, teasing your smooth skin.

jing yuan hums in agreement, his thumb brushing over your clothed sex. "mmm, indeed she is. and i aim to take advantage of that." he meets your gaze, his dark eyes smouldering with promise. "would you like that, dear? to have us use this slutty little body of yours?”

your breath hitches, your hips shifting restlessly under their combined touch. "yes," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "please, i want... i want you.” you lock eyes with blade, looking down on you. “no—i need you. all of you,” you plead, catching his attention too.

jing yuan grins, his eyes darkening with lust as he takes in your pleading expression. "Such a needy little slut, aren't you?" his hand slides beneath your skirt, his fingers brushing against your damp panties. "don't worry, sweetheart. i promise by the end of the night, you’ll be fucked dumb by us.”

dan heng chuckles, his own hand joining jing yuan's beneath your skirt. "indeed, we'll make sure this slutty little body of yours gets the thorough fucking it deserves." he presses a finger against your clothed sex, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

even blade seems to be wavering at the sight of your needy expression, his gaze specifically drawn to the sight of your flushed cheeks and parted lips. "i suppose there's no harm in indulging a bit," he mutters, moving closer to the sofa.

jing yuan smirks, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. "good girl. now, let's get these off, shall we?" he tugs the flimsy fabric down your legs, tossing them aside carelessly. “now on your knees, my pretty slut.”

you comply, of course, moving to kneel before them. jing yuan grins, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in your body beneath him. "that's it, my little slut. on your knees where you belong." his hand slides into your hair, gripping the strands tightly as he guides your head towards his crotch.

dan heng mirrors his actions, his own hand fisting in your hair as he pulls you closer to his own clothed erection. "open wide, whore. gonna use this pretty mouth of yours."

blade watches from the sidelines, his expression a mix of disgust and reluctant arousal. but as your tongue darts out to wet your lips, he seems to discard his hate. with a muttered curse, joins the other men, unfastening his pants and freeing his hardening cock.

jing yuan smirks, his grip on your hair tightening as he frees his cock, just before pulling you to face his member. "suck," he commands, his voice rough with need. "go on, show us what that slutty mouth can do."

you part your lips, allowing him to slide his throbbing length into your mouth. you moan around his length, the taste of his precum coating your tongue as you begin to bob your head.

dan heng grunts, his own cock twitching with anticipation as he watches you service jing yuan. "fuck, pretty," he breathes, grabbing your right hand and dragging it to palm his erection. "c’mon, keep me busy with your hands."

you fumble with his pants, messily freeing his erection, no—erections. you can only spare him a quick glance, given how your face is busy taking jing yuan. but you can feel it nonetheless—two hardened lengths grazing your fingers, and they’re big. you alternate between the two cocks, stroking and playing with them, eliciting sweet sounds from the dragon while you’re bobbing on the general's length.

blade steps closer, his expression unreadable as he watches you work. but as jing yuan pulls you off him, your mouth parting with a wet pop, he seems to make up his mind. he grips your face roughly, forcing your gaze to meet his.

"you want all of us, slut?" he growls, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. "then open up. i'm going to fuck this pretty little mouth until you're choking on my cock."

he doesn’t wait for a response; instead, he thrusts forward, forcing his thick length past your lips. he’s much larger than you expected, making you gag slightly as he hits the back of your throat, but he doesn't relent. his hips snap, meeting your face as he fucks it with brutality. tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe, but in all honesty, you’re quite enjoying the situation before you with the three men.

while your attention is divided between the vhidyadara and hunter, jing yuan takes matters into his own hands. kneeling down to meet your level, he starts to tug at your robes. his movements start off delicate, trying not to ruin the expensive garments he bought for you. but to no dismay, he’s not making any progress. he lets out a muttered curse under his breath as he opts to rip the garments instead, desperate to see your naked body displayed for him.

the rough motion makes you squeal around blade’s length, getting quite the reaction out of him as his grip on your face tightens, fucking you harder. the cool air hits your body hard, instantly sending a shiver throughout your entire body. jing yuan's hungry gaze rakes over your exposed self, his hands skim over your curves, his touch possessive and demanding as he pulls you flush against him, away from the other men.

he swiftly picks you up, holding you in his firm arms while he moves you according to his will. he throws you down on the now-free sofa, with your ass up in the air. ever the generous general, he gestures to his two old friends, offering your body to them. “go on, pretty. be a good whore for us,” he coos as he watches from a distance, hand fisting his cock. “you gonna be a good girl and let them fuck you silly, hm?”

your response comes out in ragged breaths, due to the harsh treatment from not just the general—but his friends too. "please," you whimper, locking eyes with dan heng, pleading as you look up at him. "fuck me. use me like the slut I am.”

your pleading expression makes dan heng's eyes darken with lust, his gaze roaming over your exposed body with a sense of hunger that he doesn’t even try to hide. "such a needy little whore," he growls, stalking closer to your body. "begging for our cocks like a bitch in heat.”

he grips your hips, his large hands spanning your waist as he positions himself behind you. you can feel one of his thick lengths pressing against your wet cunt, teasing your entrance with slow, deliberate touches.

jing yuan chuckles darkly from his position in front of the sofa, his hand still fisting himself. "indeed, she is. my pretty little slut, so desperate to be filled and used."

blade scoffs, finding his place at your face once again, his expression emphasises the digust in his eyes as he towers over you. "pathetic," he spits, though his hips keep on thrusting forward, his cock sliding against your cheek. "reduced to rutting with a common whore." despite his harsh words, you can feel his length twitch against your skin, smearing his precum all over your face. you lick a small droplet on the corner of your lips, tasting the salty liquid before peppering him with kitten licks.

your desperation is evident at this point. den heng’s grip on your hips tightens as he grinds against you. "fuck, such a slutty little cunt," he groans, his voice rough with desire. "i bet you'd let anyone fuck your tight little holes, wouldn't you?"

his words send a shiver down your spine, your stomach clenching as he teases your entrance with one of his cocks, while the other rubs your sensitive nub perfectly. you're so close to being filled, your body aching for the stretch of cock.

jing yuan seems to sense your desperation as well, his hand sliding up your back as he leans in close. "Mmm, such a wet little cunt," he groans, his thumb circling your clit. "I bet she'll let us do anything we want to her, won't you, my pretty slut?"

replying seems impossible at this point, so instead, you push your hips further against him, grinding any friction you can get while you moan around blade’s length. you don’t look behind you, but you can hear a condescending tsk from dan heng’s direction. although you’re taken aback as you feel something light trail up your back, you do your best to ignore it; you can only manage for so long.

you try to turn around to see what’s tickling your delicate skin. but before you can catch a glimpse, the same mysterious object wraps around your face. its ends are soft as it slithers down to your neck, tightening around it, making you gasp for air. it’s then that you realise that it’s his tail—he’s a vhidyadara, of course; it only makes sense for him to have one.

it’s with the movement of his tail that he finally enters you, pushing into your tight cunt at a painfully slow pace, making you feel every burn from being stretched around his cock. you cry out at the sensation, “oh, fuck!” you gasp, your body shaking from being so full. “s-so big! so full—”

he smirks at the way your body is shaking, his hands gripping your hips as he begins to thrust, his cock sliding in and out of your slick folds while the other continues to perfectly rub your clit. "that's it, take it all, you little whore," he growls, his hips snapping against your ass with each brutal stroke. "this is what you wanted, isn't it? to be stuffed full of cock?"

jing yuan, watching from the best view in the house, chuckles darkly in front of you, the pace he set on himself slowly speeding up. "indeed, she is. my pretty little slut, desperate to be used like a cheap whore."

blade is surprisingly quiet, letting out grunts here and there as he continues to fuck your face, mesmerised by your wet eyes looking up at him. you bat your eyes at him like a helpless dear, which only made him harder, showing no mercy as he fucks your throat even harder. occasionally landing a few slaps to your poor cheeks. he’s close, so he grabs you by the hair and pushes you down on his cock one last time.

“dumb bitch,” he breathlessly spits. “take it all, you fucking slut,” with that, he lets out what you can only assume is a low moan as he empties his load down your throat.

he pulls away from your mouth, a trail of saliva dangling between his cock and your lips. “open,” he commands.

you part your lips for him, showing the cum mixed with your own spit inside your mouth. to your surprise, blade leans down, spitting there too, mixing his own saliva with yours. “swallow,” of course, you do. leaving him somewhat satisfied. “what an obedient slut, good bitch.”

after licking the remains of blade’s cum off your face, the grip around your neck pulls you up so you’re standing on your knees. to your dismay, dan heng pulls out, leaving you completely empty. you whine out, disappointed in the three men. that is, until jing yuan grabs hold of your fragile body, lifting you up to place you on top of him as he sits down on the sofa.

“what’s wrong, dear?” he coos, feigning pity. “are you that desperate for my cock?” he grips your chin, forcing you to look at him. “well go on, ride my cock. fuck yourself dumb for me, okay?” in an instance, you’re shifting your weight to slowly sink yourself down on his cock, letting out a loud cry as you completely sit down on him. although as you try to move, you find yourself being blocked once more, by that familiar feeling around your neck.

dan heng, who makes his presence evident behind you, grips your ass while he whispers into your ear. “not yet, silly girl. thought you wanted to be stuffed full, ain’t that right?” one of his hands is now holding his cocks, aligning the first with the very same hole that jing yuan is occupying and the other with your, currently empty hole.

he pushes in slowly, giving you time to adjust. you’ve never been so full before. part of you thinks you should be worried; at this rate, they’ll probably break you. but this is what you asked for, no? so you sit there and take it like a good cocksleeve, your limits being tested as dan heng finally bottoms out inside of you, placing a small kiss to the back of your head. “good girl,” he whispers. “so good at taking cock, aren’t you?”

instead of riding the general as he initially planned, he grips your hips, hoisting you up so he can instead thrust inside of you, moving at a brutally mean pace. normally, this would be fine. he’s trained you to be the perfect fucktoy for him. but as you’re currently finding out, taking him and two other cocks is quite the challenge.

you cry out, your slutty moans filling his office. at this point, you’re definitely loud enough for the guards stationed outside to hear you, but they know better than to interrupt the generals ‘private’ affairs. you’re crying, tears streaming down, landing on your breasts. you can’t even think straight; even if you could, what the hell are you supposed to think about when you’re so full of cocks.

your pleasure only heightens when you feel a new sensation, something wet and hot gliding across your breasts. you manage to spare a teary glance to realise that it’s blade. sitting next to your general, he leans in closer, lapping up the tears that fall onto your plush tits all whilst stroking himself.

it’s all too much, you can feel your orgasm approaching you rapidly. and apparently, your general can too. “what’s this, pretty?” he murmurs in a lustful tone. “you like being used by multiple men that much? you gonna cum f’me? cream mine and den hengs cocks?” his breath etching into the sides of your neck is only pushing you further; the hot heat making your sensitive skin feel like it’s set ablaze. “go on then. make a mess for me, my pretty little slut.”

you didn’t even notice until it was too late, but during the general's words, the vhidyadara man found his own release. his hot cum spurting out of both cocks, filling you up in both holes. he’s a mess, groaning and moaning at the sensation of being milked dry, babbling into your other ear about how you’re such a pretty concubine.

of course, he won’t pull out just yet, though. i mean, the very concubine herself hasn’t come yet. despite the overstimulation, he keeps going, fucking his cum deep inside of you while he whispers into your ear. “just like that. taking us so well, aren’t you?”

you’re quite desperate yourself; the grip you have on jing yuan is much stronger than before, leaving crescent marks all over his biceps as you grind into the cocks. you’re so close, you can practically already feel it.

whether it was den heng’s whiny moan in your ears, blade’s teeth biting your sesitive nipple, or jing yuan hitting that one spot that makes you see stars, your orgasm hits you hard. harder than ever, if you dare say so. you scream out, moaning the general's name as your vision goes blurry for a moment, gushing out all over jing yuan’s lap and definitely the sofa. the way you’re clenching around him is also enough to send him over the edge, fucking his cum deep inside of you as he rides out his own high. and of course, blade, who’s watching the entire scenario unfold before him, pulls you to face him. your tits are on full display as he shoots his load all over them, letting it drip down your aching body.

collapsing on top of jing yuan, you finally have a moment to catch your breath. you’re covered in sweat and heaving hard as dan heng pulls out and makes himself comfortable on the sofa. you though, decide to stay and rest on your general, cock still inside of you, keeping the cum from earlier sealed. he himself is also out of breath, dazed expression falling across his face. he seems satisfied, but that’s not all. you’re sure you can sense something else in his eyes.

your thoughts are confirmed as he clears his throat. “good girl,” his voice is low, tickling the area next to your ear. “you took us so well, you really are my perfect little cocksleeve.” he sends a reassuring smile your way as he tucks a stray piece of hair away from your face. although, his gaze quickly shifts into something… darker as the hand on your hip slowly trails down to the curve of your ass.

“so well that it’s only fair we return the favour…” he holds your chin gently and you lock eyes with him once more. “isn’t that right, gentlemen?”

taglist: @ryescapades @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network thank you @katsutora for proof reading <3

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

#✰ ─ the devils month #ambrose.fics #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #hsr smut #hsr x reader smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader smut #honkai star rail smut #jing yuan smut #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x reader smut #jing yuan hsr #den heng x reader #blade x reader #den heng smut #blade smut

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othernightslikethis · 5 months ago

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White Emperor

Ningning x Male Reader x Winter (aespa)

Not really a couple with three btw, maybe.

It’s normal for frustration to become an unrelenting shadow, dogging your every step, and there’s something exasperating about how others seem to sneer at that reality. Not that it should matter to you—at least, that was the illusion you clung to. Life, up until now, had been kind enough that you never had to worry too much. And perhaps that was the true crux of the problem.

Real Madrid represents the pinnacle of any footballer’s career, an undeniable testament to the greatness that so few ever reach. Even the most inattentive observer recognises this indisputable truth, for it is the greatest club in the world—a monument erected upon history and immortal glory. To feel indifferent to the privilege of donning the white shirt would be an affront to the very nature of the sport

“We’re loaning you out.”

The words from the club official struck like a shard of reality embedding itself in your soul, reverberating with the force of a deafening crash. You had never imagined such a sentence could wound you so deeply, and yet it did—devastatingly so. The truth crashed down upon you like a runaway car slamming into a wall—sudden, inescapable, and catastrophic. No longer useful to Real Madrid. No longer indispensable. Reduced to the status of a disposable piece, an obsolete cog in the machine, a mere remnant of a glory that no longer belonged to you. Disgust coursed through your veins like a biting chill; bile surged up your throat, thick and acrid, and you swallowed it so quickly you barely registered the bitter taste burning your windpipe. Your eyes, vacant and wandering, swept across the room until they landed on the imposing figure of president Florentino Pérez.

— Y-you can’t…? — you stammered, suffocated by desperation. — Surely not! There must something… I’ll work harder… You can’t… I—” The firm weight of a hand on your shoulder cut your plea short. Your eyes blinked, dispelling the mist of tears beginning to form, and when your vision finally cleared, you found yourself staring at the imposing figure of your agent. More than an agent, he was a mentor. More than a mentor, he was your father.

— Where are we going? His voice, deep and unwavering, sought no explanation—only a destination. There were no pointless questions, no futile protests. Only acceptance—not resigned, but tinged with something worse. A certain… disappointment. No, that wasn’t quite right. What resonated in his tone was not mere dissatisfaction. It was disillusionment. And in that moment, you knew—you had failed.

— London — came the emotionless response. — Your destination for the next twelve months is Tottenham Hotspur.

The sentence was passed. The judgment, final. The weight of exile settled upon your shoulders like an unappealable verdict, and all that remained was to press forward, even as each step became a merciless reminder of what you had lost.

Your transfer would be finalised within a week, and the urgency weighed on you like an inescapable burden. You needed to gather your belongings and organise the essential paperwork for the transaction, even though the club had already handled most of the bureaucratic procedures. Time was slipping through your fingers like fine sand, and each passing moment served as a reminder that your departure was imminent. It was on one of those nights, as you returned home, utterly drained by the relentless routine, that a heavy sigh escaped you before you collapsed onto your bed. Just then, your phone buzzed, momentarily cutting through the exhaustion that had taken hold of your body. With your vision blurred by fatigue, you hesitated for a brief moment, debating whether to answer the call or let it fade into oblivion. But that hesitation vanished the instant your eyes landed on the illuminated icon on the screen.

Soulmate❄️

A smile—subtle yet undeniable—curved your lips as you immediately recognised the person behind the notification. Kim Min-jeong, or rather, Winter. A name that evoked vivid memories of an indelible past, shaped by a friendship that had withstood the relentless passage of time. You had grown up together, sharing not only the carefree innocence of childhood but also the turmoil and discoveries of adolescence. Though she was two years older, that difference had never been a barrier between you; if anything, it only strengthened the bond you shared.

As a child, you had been a timid boy, always hesitant, your words stumbling on your tongue before they could be spoken. Winter, however, embraced your fragility without hesitation, becoming both your shield and your voice when yours failed you. You were the shy boy who hid behind her, and she, the fierce storm that pulled you fearlessly into the world.

Yet, as the years passed, as childhood gave way to adolescence and, eventually, adulthood, the feelings you harboured for her began to shift. The fraternal affection transformed into a silent admiration, which in turn grew into a massive crush. And before you could fully grasp what was happening in your own heart, you realised that friendship was no longer enough. You loved her, and you knew it with the certainty of someone recognising an undeniable truth

Perhaps she even knew it too.

But then, Winter chose a path that led her away from you. She embraced the fleeting, dazzling life of an idol, and you, in turn, felt your world waver under the weight of that decision. You understood that each of you had your own ambitions and responsibilities, but that didn’t stop your heart from shattering as you watched her leave. Fate, ever cruel and unyielding, pulled your paths apart. And still, you hid your pain beneath a mask of quiet acceptance.

You never openly confessed the feelings that had taken root in your chest, but neither did you make any real effort to conceal them. Small gestures gave away what your voice never dared to say—like the fact that her contact was saved as "Soulmate" or that your wallpaper was still a photo of the two of you, arms wrapped around each other. Yet she never seemed to notice. And if she did, she never gave any indication of reciprocation.

But perhaps none of that mattered anymore. Life’s twists and turns had led you down separate roads. She had followed the fleeting glow of the spotlight, and you, in pursuit of your own dreams, had left Korea behind—drifting further away from the only person who had ever made your heart waver between hope and heartbreak.

Sliding your finger across the screen, your eyes caught the slightly sloppy text—likely due to the late hour. She must have just woken up or something.

"I heard u gonna switch again."

The message was simple, and yet you grin like an idiot when you see it, your fingers moving before you know it.

"Yeah. Feels like I’m lettin’ everyone down lately."

"Oh. So sad. I'll call ya."

When the phone rang, you already knew it was her. As you answered, her voice sounded familiar, yet tinged with a tone that made you shudder.

— I thought the circumstances were considerably better.

You nearly let out a laugh—dry, laced with a bitterness that would linger within you for weeks on end.

— If only everything in life were that easy. Your voice takes on a sharper edge. — Do you already know where they’re sending me?

— Tottenham. I saw the rumours on social media. Good luck?

That was when, at last, you surrendered to disbelief and burst into laughter—a loud, sarcastic, scornful laugh, as if the whole situation were nothing but a cruel joke, a distorted delusion of reality. Were you truly being forced to abandon the club of your dreams… to join the less decorated side of London?

— You must be joking! Do you have any idea when they last won the English league? Abeoji was still crawling around stark naked, mumbling his first words!

For reasons beyond comprehension, her laughter dissipated some of the fire raging inside you. For a fleeting moment, you almost forgot how delightful that sound was.

— Someone sounds utterly disillusioned. You can always come back home. She singsongs while you raise an eyebrow, though your expression soon darkens.

— No. The deal’s already done, only my signature remains. And stepping foot in that league, oversaturated with mediocre players, would be the equivalent of signing my own downfall.

On the other end of the line, she hesitates, lost in thought. Only after a few moments does she dare break the silence.

— You really think you’re better than the Korean league, yet you can’t even make the Real Madrid bench? Hmmm. Naughty boy.

You shrug, though she can’t see it, and reply with the unshaken calm of someone who harbours no doubt.

— I don’t think I’m better. I know I am.

#winter x reader #male reader #x male reader #football #premier league #ningning x reader

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sacredfixation · 6 months ago

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Can we just talk about how Mobius, is flipping through files with this look of sheer exasperation, just casually letting Loki nap because honestly, what else can you do when you’re dealing with a literal god who has absolutely no concept of normal office behavior?

Mobius, for all his sarcasm, also seems to understand that Loki isn’t just a perpetual chaos machine. He’s a person who occasionally needs rest, and he respects that in his own way. He’s giving Loki a little space, letting him have his godly nap without even commenting on it. He doesn’t need to.

and Loki, god of mischief… reduced to napping on a desk. Like, Mobius must’ve looked at him and just thought, Aww, my little god-boyfriend is tired. You can almost hear Loki thinking, I’ve fought entire armies, but this bureaucracy? This is my downfall.

Like here’s this immortal being who could probably bring down entire civilizations with a snap of his fingers, but at this exact moment? He’s utterly defeated by the weight of paperwork and office politics, completely undone by the mundane office grind.

Theres some strange comfort in watching a god deal with the same frustrations we all do: deadlines, the never-ending bureaucracy, and the fact that sometimes you just need to close your eyes for five minutes.

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ckret2 · 7 months ago

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Bill hates it when people mention Euclydia. Everyone thinks it's because he doesn't want to hear his home's real name; it's actually the opposite.

Here, have some fic. The naming of Euclydia (among other things), the birth of the Nightmare Realm, and the Axolotl planting the seeds of a trillion-year-long plan to keep Bill from the death penalty.

This is the 🎉FINAL PART🎉 of a 9-part plot about the Axolotl in the aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. If you wanna read the others (or look at the art), here's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight.

####

With the immediate crisis averted and the triangle, for the moment, not attempting to invade and/or demolish the multiverse, most of the god militia pulled back. A group remained stationed near the unstable border between dimensions to watch the triangle; but the less powerful gods could trickle back in to get back to their own work, first and foremost the construction workers doing emergency repairs to reformat and stabilize the neighboring dimensions.

The Axolotl—who, he suspected, would have been arrested himself for interfering if they weren't still focused on the triangle—wove through the crowd until he found the Time Giant; and then swam angrily up to her and demanded, "You used me as a distraction?"

She turned a stone-hard look on him. "That was the agreement."

"No! The agreement was that I'd try to talk him down! We'd only resort to distracting him if I couldn't get through to him!"

"Ya didn't get through to him." The Time Giant nodded at the Axolotl's burned side. "Look at you. Your leg's off."

He looked down at his missing foreleg. He'd been so distracted by the near end of the multiverse, he'd barely noticed the pain. "It's just a flesh wound," he insisted. "I'm an axolotl, it'll grow back!"

She shook her head.

"I would have gotten through to him! You saw me talk him down after an entire army threatened him!" the Axolotl said. "What if I had succeeded, and when we left my tank he found out you already wrote him off?! You never gave me a chance—"

"We did give you a chance," she said testily, "and I saw that you weren't gonna succeed." She hooked a thumb over her belt and tapped a finger on her time tape; the stylized symbol of the Time Giants glowed on the side, an unsubtle reminder that she knew what was coming far better than he did. "So I did my damn job."

So she'd sent him in already knowing that he would fail. The Axolotl was speechless for a second. "But—you couldn't know—I got so close, if I'd had just one more try to talk to him..."

"If I'd let you, I'm sure you woulda kept trying until the end of time," she said. "You seem like a good guy, Ax—but you can't save everyone." She pushed past him to get to work. "There's first aid near where Dimension 2 Gamma was. Get those burns looked at."

"They're fine."

She was wrong. He could save everyone. Because he wouldn't stop until he did.

####

"You're replacing it?" the triangle asked petulantly.

"I'm not talking to you," VENDOR said, turned away from the triangle. "You had your chance at diplomacy and you blew it." The crablike cop was holding up a clipboard with some paperwork for VENDOR to review, and didn't look pleased to have been temporarily reduced to a secretary.

"I'm just asking a question!"

"We're not speaking."

At the top of his lungs—which was, it turned out, very loud and very shrill—the triangle said in the direction of the reporters, "Oh wow, that's a crazy thing to say about Lady Morgenstern! And talk about obscene! She'd be furious if she could hear that—!"

"Shhhhh!" VENDOR rounded angrily on the triangle. "You don't even know who she is!"

"I know her name and I'm not afraid to use it," the triangle said. "You're really replacing my dimension?"

"If I can be left alone long enough to finish signing the authorization paperwork," VENDOR muttered. "The construction crew's already out here and waiting, so if you don't mind..."

"It just seems pretty tacky, replacing a universe just like that." The triangle spoke like dimension he was talking about was just a pawn to be used in a trivial argument about etiquette, rather than everyone and everything he'd ever known. "No memorial or anything? Yeesh."

"So hold a memorial for it," VENDOR said. "We don't have any choice, we have to repair all the fallen walls to keep reality stable. If you'd let us into your hovel to sweep up what's left of your old dimension, it could have at least been incorporated into the new one."

The triangle half reached for his hat, stopped himself, and curled his hand into a fist and thrust it down at his side. "Over my dead body," he said. "Which I'm pretty sure got incinerated! So that means never!"

"You're pretty sure?" VENDOR asked archly.

"It... I had more important stuff to take care of, okay? I'm a busy guy!"

"I'm sure," VENDOR said. "Well, it's too late for any cleanup operations anyway. Enjoy rotting away in your landfill."

"Wow, that's how you talk to a refugee from the biggest disaster ever?" The triangle laughed. "Hey, bet the muckrakers over there would love to hear how sympathetic you are to the—what'd you say I am—the 'last surviving soul from my dimension'—?"

"Let's find somewhere quieter to work," VENDOR said to the cop.

He looked relieved "You got it."

As VENDOR and THEIR impromptu secretary moved away from Dimension Zero, the triangle shouted after THEM, "Hey! How do I vote for Municipalitron!"

Volcanoes on several of VENDOR's planets erupted. THEY whipped around to face the triangle. "You don't! You aren't in my district!"

"Well, whose district am I in? This Morgenstern creep you keep bringing up?" the triangle asked. "How's voting work, do you toss a ballot across the border and I toss it back—?"

"You're not in anyone's district! If you were, you'd have been arrested already!"

The triangle stared in dumb shock. "Wait, so I don't get to vote for which of you idiots I have to deal with?" He hollered at VENDOR's retreating back, "That's fascism!"

Fuming, VENDOR passed the Axolotl muttering under THEIR breath about showing the triangle fascism; then stopped, abruptly turned to face him, and snapped, "You."

"You," the Axolotl agreed.

"You're an optimistic fool."

Yes, well, he knew that already. He'd been voted Most Adorably Idealistic in his law school yearbook for a reason. "I don't think I like you, either."

"No one does." THEIR camera whirred irritably as they looked the Axolotl up and down. "What are you doing here, anyway? I assumed you'd been sent to figure out who's liable for this whole mess—but no, you only handle afterlife cases, don't you? Who sent you?"

The Axolotl was silent.

Furiously, VENDOR said, "Are you serious?! We could have avoided half this mess if it weren't for you!"

"If it weren't for me, he'd have knocked down the multiverse before anyone realized he's setting the fires," the Axolotl snapped. "And if you had figured that much out, you'd have gotten your cops killed before anyone realized he's a god."

"The professionals here to handle the situation could have figured it out faster if you weren't derailing their investigations," VENDOR snarled. "And arguing about jurisdiction! We could have arrested that that little troublemaker the moment we figured out just what he's done—"

"Right after you arrested that kid with the spray can who didn't have anything to do with this?"

THEY growled in frustration. "Forget it! I hope you're happy with your genocidal pal over there—you seem about as concerned with public safety as he is." THEY stormed off, the cop with THEIR paperwork chasing after THEM.

The Axolotl watched VENDOR go; then turned to look ruefully toward Dimension Zero.

When the triangle caught his gaze, he formed a heart with his fingers over his top point and called out, gleefully singsong, "Genocide paaals!"

It wasn't exactly the reaction he'd hoped for.

####

The Axolotl was attempting to distract himself from scratching his itchy leg while it regrew by eavesdropping on the triangle. It seemed like the triangle was entertaining himself by darting around the border of Dimension Zero to start arguments with anybody he happened to recognize (except the Axolotl, whom he seemed to be trying to ignore outside of throwing a few odd quips at him.) At the moment, the triangle and the Time Giant were hollering at each other about her decision to reinforce the second dimensions by making them splinter into multiple timelines.

"So you're really willing to sacrifice zillions of lives by letting me incinerate all their parallel timelines?" The triangle laughed in disbelief. "And everyone here thinks I'm the killer! That's not a good look for you, buddy!"

She glanced up from a table full of paperwork to give him a totally neutral look. "You're the one who's willing to incinerate them. You could not do that."

"When I do it, it's justified."

The Axolotl was distracted from the argument as the storm cloud with the apoc agents gloomily blew past him. It was talking into a walkie-talkie as it went: "Yeah, I know he's a nut. But he's a nut that can't throw fireballs outside the border of his dimension, and I've got to finish this report before we can get outta here." He sighed at whatever the walkie-talkie said in response, and said, "Yeah. We'll rendezvous after I have his testimony." It let its tornado suck the walkie-talkie back in and drifted to the Time Giant. "Mind if I steal your conversation partner for a minute? ATTF business."

She grabbed a binder to try to shield her papers from the worst of the storm's rain. "Please. Take him."

"Thanks." It floated closer to Dimension Zero and raised its voice to bark, "Hey! Magister Mentium!"

The triangle looked over mistrustfully. "What?" As he'd talked to the Time Giant, he'd been playing with the fabric of reality, creating a circle out of raw... stuff. The Axolotl couldn't tell what the stuff was, but it looked like it was some sort of animal tissue, except far too uncannily homogeneous to be natural, disturbing in its uniformity. Like a slice of baloney. When he saw who'd called out to him, he rolled his eye and turned his attention to extruding the circle into a baloney cylinder. "Heeey, Officer Fun Police! Here to rain on my parade again?"

"Rain jokes aren't as funny as you think they are," it said. "No, this is Apocalyptic Threat Task Force business."

The triangle's eye narrowed. "What business? Are you gonna complain about my renovations again?"

"No. If you're not about to knock reality down, I don't care what you do anymore," the cloud said. "It's not my business to punish anybody for previous apocalypses, I just want to prevent future ones. Answer a few questions for our incident report and I'll be out of your life." There was an implicit and you'll be out of mine in its tone.

"All right," the triangle said dubiously. "Fffine. Then we're on the same side. I'm not fond of apocalypses either."

It paused like it wanted to argue with that claim, but said, "Good enough for me." It pulled out the soggy notepad it had been using all day, flipped through it, couldn't find a free page, and with a sigh pulled out a tape recorder instead. "You're from Dimension 2 Delta, right?"

"If you say so," the triangle said, lifting his hands in a shrug. "You guys are the ones who named my dimension."

"Uh-huh." Under its breath, the cloud muttered, "Not exactly a name, but... If you're from 2Δ, that makes you the only direct witness to how your universe was destroyed."

The triangle paused. "Mm."

"Can you explain what happened, exactly?" When the triangle didn't respond, the cloud added, "I'm not gonna arrest you for it. If we want to have a chance of stopping something like this from happening in the future, we need to know what happened here."

"Uhhh, yyyeah. Suuure," the triangle said. It wasn't clear exactly how Dimension Zero rearranged, but the view of the eternal dance party simply vanished. There was no sign of the millions of shapes. The music had fallen near silent, just a constant distant low thumping noise, like your heartbeat in your ears; quiet enough that it couldn't drown out the whispery hiss leaking out of Dimension Zero. "It's not like I have anything to hide." Whatever he was about to say, it seemed like he wanted to hide it from his party prisoners, at least.

A bolt of lightning shot through the storm's recorder, turning it on. "You said you were an active participant in the end of the world, right?"

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" He eyed the recorder suspiciously. "What is this, some trick to try to get a confession out of me?"

"Again, I'm not a cop. And you already confessed in front of a thousand reporters," the storm said. "If you were involved, you've got a different perspective than some guy ten superclusters away who only witnessed it, that's the only reason it matters."

"Oh," the triangle said. "Then—yeah, I was there for the whole thing. Start to finish."

"Great," the storm said gruffly. "Then could you explain in your own words what happened when the universe ended and, to the best of your knowledge, what caused it."

"Oh. Yeah. Right. The cause," the triangle said. "It... it was a—monster."

"I thought you said you—"

"It was a monster," the triangle said, more confidently now.

The cloud hesitated. "All right," it said. "Tell me what happened."

The triangle took a deep breath. "Okay. So. It uh—started with the third dimension."

"The monster came from the third dimension?"

"No, we were going to the third dimension. But we needed—"

The hissing background static exploded into a roar.

The void filled with the staticky screams of countless dead voices, pleading for mercy, pleading for it to stop. Death rattles, howls of agony, wails of terror. Most of the crowd of gods outside Dimension Zero fell silent, turning to stare at the disembodied hysterical shrieks.

One voice, strained with pain, rose above the cacophony, crackling, "Emergency services! We need medical assistance! Ambulances, or—please—I don't know what happened—it's like everyone's internal organs spontaneously ruptured, there's—there's hundreds of people here! Some of them are missing parts of their body, they just—disappeared! I'm hurt too, I don't know what it is—I can feel it inside me—"

A second voice replied, "We can't send assistance. Everyone's bleeding, the whole city's dying! We can't help you!"

Whatever the triangle said was lost beneath the roar. He didn't even seem to notice it. His eye was filled with static. The word "blood" was just barely audible. The word "mandibles."

Another voice, trying to sound professional, trying to sound authoritative, but trembling with fear, "This is an emergency announcement! This announcement will not repeat! The fire can transmit over radio waves and sound waves! Turn off all radios and TVs! Turn off all radios and TVs and destroy any wireless phones and pagers! Do NOT listen to the screams! Again, the fire is transmitting over radio waves, this message will not repeat, destroy your radio and warn your neighbors!"

The Axolotl saw images flash in the triangle's eye, too fast for him to mentally process one before another ten had gone by: a plane like infinitely thin glass with tiny delicate shapes painted on its surface shattering in a rolling wave; a bleeding body reduced to shards and then the shards reduced to chips and then chips reduced to dust; fire spitting and crackling into every crack split in existence; a light shaped like a triangle. (Was that the light that had blinded the Oracle's seer?)

Another voice gasping, "It's doing something to the gravity, I-I don't understand—we don't even have the equipment to read... it's like gravity's turned in a direction that doesn't exist! Does anyone know how to stop it?! Our universe is tearing ap—" and the words were cut off with a scream; and the scream was cut off with a sudden silence that was swallowed whole by the other voices.

The triangle had peeled open, shining golden panels stretching out like petals, his mandibles unhinged and curling around his eye in a ring of teeth, like a blooming carnivorous flower, sun-soaked and mesmerizing. God, he was so bright. He shot light in every direction like an explosion that never ended. Like a star trapped in the moment of supernova.

Another voice, shaking with rage, "Did you hear that, you monster?! I told you we weren't ready yet! Why didn't you listen?! I can see the destruction from here—the sky's on fire, everything is burning. How could this happen?! YOU killed them all—" and the rage cracked, revealing the fear and grief just barely hidden underneath, "Remember us. If you're the only one left, you have to remember us. Please—"

The static snapped off; the triangle's body snapped back into place; his eye snapped back into focus; "—and then they appointed me their god," he said cheerfully, "and here we are!"

And with only a couple more dying cries of pain and pleas for help, the voices fell back to their constant background whisper.

The storm cloud had started sleeting.

The Axolotl had stopped breathing. Just the sound of the carnage was enough to make him sick.

But the triangle sounded perfectly at ease—more than he had before he'd answered the cloud's question. "So is that all you needed?" He'd resumed playing with the cylinder of meat he'd been constructing—extruding it further, and then, dissatisfied with the results, collapsing it back into a circle.

His hands were trembling as he messed with the cylinder. There was a tightness around his eye.

"What..." The storm cloud let out a low rumble of thunder, ahem, "what... did you say about blood? I didn't catch it."

The triangle blinked blankly at the storm. "I didn't say anything about blood."

It paused. "All right, then—what about the other voices? Who were they?"

"What voices?"

The storm stared at the triangle, baffled sunbeam fixed on him; then swung the sunbeam over to the Axolotl. "You heard—?"

So his eavesdropping had been noticed. He nodded. Oh, he heard, all right.

The triangle glanced between them. "I think you guys are hearing voices," he said. "The only one talking here is me."

He said it like he meant it. The Axolotl was sure he did. Had he not heard the voices?

"Never mind, forget it," the cloud said uneasily. "You said someone... Who appointed you their god?"

"Uhhh..." the triangle tilted to the side as he tried to think. "Pretty much all my people? Yeah. It was everyone!"

"Your people? From your universe?"

"Yup!"

"They didn't appoint you their god," the cloud said. "They're all dead."

The triangle scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about. They're all in here with me!"

"You mean the mortals from the other universes?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the triangle repeated, a little slower, warningly. "They're all from my universe."

For a moment, the cloud just stared at him, at a loss. It glanced again toward the Axolotl. The Axolotl had nothing to offer it.

"Is that everything?" The triangle tried to keep his voice peppy, but there was an edge of exhaustion that hadn't been there earlier. (Yeah, him and everyone else here.)

"I guess that wraps up that part of the questionnaire," the cloud muttered uneasily, trying to recover its professional tone. "Just a couple more questions. I need your name. For the report."

Dimension Zero's hissing background static rose again: "The murderer... The name of the murderer... is—"

"NOBODY ASKED YOU!" The triangle turned and chucked the cylinder he'd been working on into the Dream Realm. He grumbled under his breath, created another circle, and started stretching it out again.

The triangle could hear the voices. Then why hadn't he been able to hear them earlier? Unless he had been able to hear them—and he just... couldn't remember that he'd heard them?

Even if the Axolotl hadn't known about the incomparable trauma the triangle had survived/caused, it would be pretty obvious by now that something was going terribly wrong inside his head. Contradictory stories about his own reality, memories he refused to remember, facts he simply set aside as not relevant. Was he refusing to face them, or was he unable?

From their conversation in the Axolotl's tank, he thought the triangle understood more than he was willing to admit. But the Axolotl might be the only one who knew that.

And that was beginning to give the Axolotl an idea.

"Just—put me down as the Magister Mentium, okay?" the triangle told the cloud. "Everyone'll know who you're talking about."

"If you say so," said the cloud. "What was your universe's name?"

"Its name?" The triangle glanced up from his new cylinder and gave the cloud a perplexed look. "You asked already. You said it's Dimension 2 Delta."

"That's its serial number. Every dimension's assigned one at its Big Bang. But it's standard to let a dimension's own residents choose its name. It makes it more personal." The cloud sounded as though it had memorized this explanation. The Axolotl wondered how many times it had had to take statements from a destroyed dimension's grieving survivors. He hoped it usually got to give this spiel to witnesses of a narrowly averted apocalypse. "Typically the first explorers to leave their dimension get to name it; but the only person ever known to leave 2Δ is... you."

"Oh," he said. "Right."

"So, what did your people name your universe?"

He stared at the storm like it was stupid. "We called it... the universe?"

"Everyone calls their universe The Universe," the cloud said. "Followed by The World, The Dimension, Reality, and Home. They're all taken, come up with something else."

"Seriously? You're making me name my whole universe and now you're telling me how to name it?"

"They're not my rules," the cloud said. "If you don't have a native name, we usually name a dimension after the first known explorer to leave it. Was that you?"

The triangle was quiet for an uncomfortably long moment. His gaze twitched away; and for a moment the Axolotl thought he saw another image flash in his eye: a triangle floating in space, eerily serene, dead. His voice was small when he said, "No."

Surprised lightning quietly flashed in the storm's cloud. "Oh. Do you know the name of the first?"

"Of course I do. He's my..." He stopped himself. He said, too evenly, "His name is Euclid."

Obviously, the triangle wasn't speaking a language that can be spoken with human mouths or written with human symbols. "Euclid" is a stand-in word for an unpronounceable name; trying to say the name without the right anatomy—without even the right laws of physics and sound waves—would only mangle it.

But the rest of the multiverse didn't have the right physics or anatomy either. "Euclid," the cloud repeated, mangling it. The triangle winced. "Fine. How's Euclydia sound?"

"It sounds stupid," the triangle said.

"Well, it's your dimension. Do you have a better suggestion?"

"I..." The triangle floundered helplessly. "That... Okay hold on, I've had a very long..." He floundered again as he tried to figure exactly what kind of time span he'd been having a long one of.

"If you want me to come back later..." said the cloud, who very obviously did not want to have to come back later.

"I don't knowww, gimme a second," the triangle whined. "I've never thought about a universe having a name! It's—it's fine. Euclydia's fine."

"If you're sure—?"

"Of course I'm sure," the triangle snapped. "Euclydia. Yeah. Great. Fine."

"All right." The cloud zapped its tape recorder, turning it off. "Thanks for your time."

As it started to hover off, the triangle said, "Hold on! I answered your questions, you owe me some."

The eye of the storm reluctantly swung back toward the triangle. "What?"

He held up the shape he'd been extruding. "What do you call this... 3D circle thing?"

The sunbeam swept over it. "A cylinder?"

The triangle pointed toward VENDOR, who was out at the edge of the crowd answering the questions of some reporters who'd caught THEM attempting to slink away from the scene. "And what are the 3D circle things Coin Slot over there is hauling around?"

It glanced at VENDOR's stock of planets. "Spheres."

The triangle shook his cylinder. "Well, what am I doing wrong, then!"

"I don't know, math's not my thing," the cloud said. "Try rotating it."

The triangle waited until the cloud had moved on; then created another circle, extruded it again, but curled the extrusion around into a circle. He ended up with a shape like a donut. He said, quietly, "Oo-oo-ooh." He sounded impressed.

The Axolotl swam up alongside the storm cloud as it left. "So. Find out what you wanted to know?"

The cloud laughed ruefully.

That was what he thought. "Are the interviews you've been taking classified?"

"No, our reports are open to the public. Anyone can request copies. The database is a nightmare to navigate, though."

"Let me know who to contact for the records on this incident. Especially the witness testimonies."

"I take it you're also planning to go through that noise we just heard with a fine-tooth comb?"

"That's hardly the start of it."

If the Axolotl had been convinced of anything during all his conversations with the triangle today, it was that the triangle could barely begin to grasp just what it was he'd done to his dimension and all the dimensions around it—and he did a very poor job of communicating what he did grasp.

And if the Axolotl could prove that—if he could build a convincing argument that the triangle hadn't understood what he'd done, psychologically couldn't understand, that even now he only had the fuzziest comprehension of what he was involved in...

Someday, that triangle's sins would catch up to him. Someday, he would be in the hands of the gods of death and justice, and they would have to decide what fate his actions had earned. And when that day came, it would be the Axolotl's job to ensure that the triangle didn't end up damned or erased from existence.

As it was now, that triangle didn't stand a chance in the multiverse of being found innocent. But there was more than one way to avoid a "guilty" verdict.

By the time the triangle stood before a judge, the Axolotl would make sure that the right laws were in place for him to do what he wanted to do.

####

Where there had been swarms of firefighters earlier, now the scene swarmed with construction workers, working on the emergency genesis of over half a dozen replacement universes—carefully, so that the big bangs didn't do any further damage to an already unstable situation; but quickly. Already every destroyed one-dimensional universe had been replaced. Several half-burned dimensions had been supplanted with oddly-shaped undersized universes that met at the older universes' burned edges; jagged 1D dimensions sealed the gaps between these dimensions like a line of solder between two panes of stained glass.

By now, the flat planes and edges surrounded the zeroth dimension like the sleek shifting surfaces of an infinity-sided die; all except for one last missing wall in the middle of the damage.

Dimension 2 Delta. "Euclydia."

The construction workers were already setting up the scaffolding and equipment to set off another big bang.

As the Axolotl looked at the copious warning signs around the construction site—"DANGER! COSMIC EXPLOSIVES" "GENESIS IN PROGRESS"—the specialized equipment, the veritable army of workers, the mountain of papers the Time Giant had been reviewing earlier to ensure that everything was up to code and nothing would go wrong... he couldn't help but think of the triangle holding the seed of a big bang in his bare glowing hand, threatening to set it off right there. The Axolotl had known it was foolish, but seeing all the workers' preparations put just how reckless it was into perspective. Like a toddler holding a stick of TNT over a campfire.

He spotted the Time Giant among the workers, flickering back and forth across the scene as she tried to literally be multiple places at the same time. When she settled down for a moment over a worktable to double check a pile of blueprints and forms and calculations and even more paperwork, she caught sight of the Axolotl passing by, and tipped her chin up at him in greeting.

He paused, then nodded back to her. No hard feelings. He was just following his principles; and she was just doing her job. They'd each found their own way to help hold up the multiverse.

"Hey," she called out, and gestured for him to come over. As he did, she said, "Your leg's healing nicely."

He glanced down at it. His new toes were stubby, but at least they were back. "I don't like being uneven." He'd take a few more days on his tail. "I'll probably pay for it tomorrow, though." When he finally got home, he'd have to see if he could cancel his morning appointments.

"Reckon we'll all be feeling this tomorrow." She tilted her head toward Dimension Zero. "I've got a message for the god of DIY over there. I think you're the only one he likes—you mind carrying it over?"

####

It wasn't hard to find the triangle; he was leaning against the membrane around the zeroth dimension, moodily staring out at the third. He seemed to be gazing past all the gods, unfazed by their hubbub. The Axolotl tried to see what he was looking at, and didn't spot anything of note. As far as he could tell, the triangle might as well just be stargazing.

Along with the police tape and the ATTF barrier and the long-forgotten cordons to hold off the reporters, there was now an additional grid of orange cones set up blocking anyone from getting too close to the destroyed wall and the construction site. The Axolotl glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention before he slipped past the cones and swam up to the triangle.

When he approached, the triangle was muttering under his breath: "Stupid, now it sounds like an STD. I should've named it something cooler. Like... Triangletopia. Or the Party Plane. Or Margaritaville—I bet no one's ever used that one before..."

"Magister," the Axolotl said.

The triangle's eye snapped to him. "Hey, look at that! The pompous psycho is back! If you're even thinking about sticking me back in your 'office'—"

The Axolotl held up his forelegs appeasingly. "I'm not." He wasn't even crossing the threshold into the triangle's turf. "This is the last time I'll speak to you today."

"Finally, some good news," the triangle grumbled. "What do you w—ha! Ah-haha! I caught myself, that one didn't count."

The Axolotl decided not to count it. "The Time Giant wanted you to know they're about to set off the big bang where Dimension 2 Delta used to be. You probably don't want to be too close to the wall when it goes up."

The triangle's expression darkened; but he just said, "All right. Fine. Have fun. Not my problem! Just keep the construction noises down."

That was all he'd been sent to tell the triangle; but he added, "If you ever want to leave your dream realm, this is your last chance."

The triangle groaned. "This again? Listen, frills, I already told you I'm not interested! And you don't have the right to drag me out, this is my sovereign god territory—"

"I'm not threatening to," the Axolotl said gently. "I just—wanted to make sure you know. If you change your mind later, you physically won't be able to leave."

That gave the triangle pause. "I... don't see why not."

"For something to pass from one dimension to another, it needs a large enough hole to pass through," the Axolotl said. "For a person carrying the mass and energy of an entire universe to cross from one dimension to another... they need a hole the size of a universe. The missing wall where 2Δ was is the size your universe used to be. And now... it's the only exit big enough for you to pass through. Do you understand?"

The triangle stared at him silently. There was that hard, heavy look in his eye. It was awful to see. He did understand.

"If you don't come now..."

"We came up with a way to fit my entire universe into this one," the triangle said. "If I ever want to leave, we'll invent a way to get it back out."

"Your universe didn't fit in without incinerating it."

The triangle tapped the side of his hat with a finger; somewhere inside it was the speck that used to be his universe—the seed of a big bang. "It's travel-sized now. The next time will be easier."

For the first time since seeing the awful ruin of Dimension 2 Delta, the Axolotl forced himself to turn his fearful gaze chronologically forward. He squinted toward the hazy, far-flung future; and then he gave the triangle, in the present, a sorrowful look. "No, it won't," he said. "But I'll do what I can for you."

The triangle stared sullenly at him, unmoved by the offer. "I don't see what you're getting out of helping me. Everyone else is dying to send me to ghost jail or however things work around here."

"Isn't it enough to help you just because you exist and that makes you worth it?"

"If you ever, ever say something like that again, I'll kill you. I will find a way."

He wasn't particularly surprised. But that was truly what the Axolotl believed—and believed strongly enough to guide everything else he did.

The things this triangle had done were too ghastly for even an ancient, experienced god to fully wrap his head around. Without exaggeration, he might have done the worst thing anyone anywhere in the multiverse had ever done.

But.

But if the Axolotl could prove that he, the worst person ever, was worth giving a second chance—that he could change, that he could show remorse for what he'd done, that he could be a force for good in the multiverse... then he would have proven that everyone, no matter what, was worth it.

The Axolotl had been voted Most Adorably Idealistic, but he'd never been called soft. His ideals were harder than diamond and sharper than obsidian. He hadn't decided to protect the triangle in spite of the impact that might have on the multiverse; he was protecting him because of the impact it could have.

The Axolotl was a god of justice, of monsters, of second chances, and through his actions he could shape what justice meant throughout the multiverse as if he were sculpting clay; and he thought a small, sharp little equilateral triangle would make a perfect sculpting tool.

"In truth, I just don't believe in punishment. Not even for you." The Axolotl lay a forefoot on Dimension Zero's bubble. "But I don't see why you trust me." Because it was clear the triangle did. He'd trusted the Axolotl to judge the character of the other gods. He'd kept looking toward him like he was trying to gauge his own situation based on the Axolotl's reaction to it. He'd admitted the truth about the remains of his universe and his plans for it. It seemed like the Axolotl was the only one the triangle trusted in all this mess.

The triangle thought that over; then said, "You seem like a grade-A sucker."

He laughed. "I'll try to live up to your opinion of me." He had a guess what kind of people this triangle thought were suckers. The charitable; the caring. The people who didn't think that seeing the worth in everyone was a kind of illness.

"You should know, I intend to legally register my tank as a purgatory. I'll probably submit my application before the end of the week. If you claim it as your afterlife, you'll be transferred to my tank for holding while awaiting trial to decide your final afterlife."

"Ugh, now it all makes sense: you're starting a cult! I don't wanna join your cult, frills—I've got my own."

"But you do want to go straight to your lawyer's office if you're about to go on trial for your sins," the Axolotl said pointedly. "I don't intend to house anyone in my tank permanently. It will just be a transfer place for clients preparing for trial or figuring out where they want to go next—another afterlife, reincarnation... You're already technically dead; you can request at any time to come to my tank, and you'll be there."

"Sounds great for your other clients! But I'm not planning to go on trial and I don't want to be in an afterlife," the triangle said testily. "I'm pretty sure we've been over this!"

"I know you don't. I wish you didn't have to face it. But when you have no choice," the Axolotl said. "When you need it. When your time comes to burn like your people—" (the triangle flinched) "—call me. I'll offer you a second chance at any time."

"Low blow," the triangle muttered. "Don't put yourself out on my account. I'll be fine by myself."

"I'm sure." The Axolotl suspected he'd be putting himself out on the triangle's account for a long time. "What's your name? Your real name."

The background hiss of cosmic noise roared louder. The echoes of billions of erased ghosts said, "THE NAME OF THE MURDERER IS—"

With a flinch, the triangle cranked the distant dance music louder so it spilled cacophonously out of Dimension Zero again. It was too late, though. The Axolotl had heard the triangle's real name.

He pretended he hadn't. He waited.

The triangle didn't answer for a long moment. "You probably wouldn't be able to pronounce it."

"Maybe not." He'd seen how the triangle had winced hearing the cloud try to pronounce the name of some other shape. "I still want to know who you are."

He wrestled with his words; then finally gave up and asked his question. "What... is this place? We're not in the third dimension. When I—freed my dimension, I expected to go up; but we went... down. I didn't know there was a down." He confessed his ignorance in a near whisper, almost drowned out by his own music.

"You're in Dimension Zero." But that wasn't right. Dimension Zero was—should be—a point, and it's impossible to be "in" a point. A point simply is. "You are Dimension Zero."

The triangle said, "Then call me King Zero."

The Axolotl considered that. "Yes," he said. "I think that is your name."

Someone shouted, "Clear the way!" One worker at the construction site was looking directly at the Axolotl. "That means you! Unless you wanna be boiled frog legs!"

"I'm not a frog," the Axolotl muttered; but, he turned one last time to newly-crowned King Zero, said, "Call me," then hastily swam to the safe side of the orange cone barricade.

"Five, four, three..."

The Axolotl watched the triangle—and the triangle watched him—until the detonation. The big bang went off in a flash of light bright enough it would have incinerated anyone in the vicinity had it not been contained to a flat plane.

When the Axolotl looked away from the light, the afterimage of a triangle was burned into the center of his vision.

Dimension Zero was sealed off from the rest of reality—locking its king in for the next trillion years.

####

When the triangle said his name was "King Zero," of course, he wasn't speaking English. English wouldn't exist for a long time. The name King Zero is simply a convenient translation.

The English word "zero" comes from the French zéro. Zéro comes from Italian zefiro. Zefiro comes from Medieval Latin zephirum. And zephirum comes from the Arabic صِفْر—ṣifr.

####

Centuries ago, in the dream of a naive, trusting human, the human asked in Arabic, "What should I call you?" And King Zero responded, "Call me Ṣifr."

And years later, a dreaming human asked in Medieval Latin, "What should I call you, o muse of mathematics?" And of the two Latin words descended from his current Arabic nickname, Ṣifr responded with the one he thought was closer: "Call me Cifra."

A dreaming human asked in Old French, "What's your name?" And he replied, "My name's Cyffre."

Speaking Middle English, he told a dreaming human, "My name's Siphre."

And in Modern English, he told Edward Bishop Bishop, "The name's Cipher. But you can call me Bill."

In a year's time, and two years before his death from sleep deprivation, Edward would write Flatworld, a book about a 2D shape and his Muse journeying up to the highest dimensions; and also all the way down, below the spaces and planes and lines, to the self-absorbed King Zero, buried in the point-sized zeroth dimension, who thought a whole universe was contained inside him.

####

(It's FINISHED. 🎉🎉🎉

Hi y'all, if you just joined us for this Axolotl plot arc, usually this is a post-canon human Bill fic. I took a break from the main plot for one week to post a one-chapter flashback and then it was nine chapters. This bitch is 50k words. It's a novel unto itself.

Anyway if you only showed up for this story about the Ax, it only exists in service of a much longer story; so if you enjoyed this check out the rest of the fic. This is technically chapter 69 (lol). (If human Bill isn't usually your thing, I've been told that this is The Human Bill Fic For People Who Don't Like Human Bills because Bill is clearly very much a triangle unhappily trapped in a human body, rather than just chill with being human—so you might wanna give it a shot.)

And for the regulars who are already reading the whole fic: OH MY GOD IT'S FINALLY FINISHED, WE'RE FREE, WE CAN RETURN TO THE PRESENT. Listen I love the Ax and his bizarre but unbending morality, but guys. Guys. I miss Mabel so much.

Pre-warning that I may end up needing to skip a chapter or two before the end of the year, because work's piling a LOTTA extra work on me this month and I might just flat out not have time to edit & do art. I'm up at 3 a.m. editing & queueing this post and I was up til 3 a.m. another night doing the art because I HAVE NOT HAD TIME this week to do it any earlier. I did this because I love y'all.

No that's a lie, I did this because I want to FINISH this DANG ARC. That's my birthday gift to me.

Anyway lemme know what y'all think!! 💕)

#bill cipher #euclydia #(for the art & the chapter)#the axolotl #gravity falls axolotl #(for the chapter even tho he isn't in the art lmao)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(I'm queueing this at 3:30 am and i'm so tired i almost hit 'post' instead of scheduling it lmfao)#(It's done it's done it's finally done)

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mariasont · 1 year ago

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Laundry Day - A.H

a/n: 1000 words for 1000 followers!!!!!!!!! i am in complete disbelief honestly, you all are so amazing and im so thankful for each and every one of you <3

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

summary: hotch begins to notice a difference in the way his clothes smell, wonder why?

wc: 1k

Hotch had been wrestling with the unsettling notion that he might be ill, or worse he had a brain tumor, manifesting through phantom smells. Whatever it was, it had been driving him crazy because the persistent aroma was undeniably yours, his nanny. As much as he didn't to admit it, this would usually be a welcome scent, soft and florally, like he had just stepped into a flower field.

Today, however, the scent was nothing short of an irritant. Every fleeting whiff had him jerking his head up, expecting to see you standing in the doorway of his office. But you were never there, of course, which only intensified the frustration gnawing at him.

There it was again, and despite his better judgement, his gaze darted to the door, unfortunately only to find Morgan casually propped against the frame.

"Hey, boss, got a minute?"

The scent had momentarily clouded his focus, but he quickly regained his bearings and closed the file, giving a firm nod. "What's up?"

"We've got a lead on the case in Richmond," Morgan started, handing over a document. "Local PD spotted a vehicle matching the description of our unsub's."

Hotch took the file, fingers thoughtfully brushing his chin as he scanned the pages. Morgan stepped closer, his nose giving a slight twitch before he took a seat in front of the desk.

"You know, Hotch, I gotta ask," Morgan prodded, a sly smile spreading across his face in a way that made Hotch uneasy. Morgan wasn't known for his filtered comments. "You got a girl or something? It smells way too good in here for just paperwork."

Point in case.

Hotch's eyes flickered up from the papers. "What? No, I--"

"Come on, man," Morgan chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Don't play coy with me. Whoever she is, she's got good taste. I think Savannah uses the same perfume."

Hotch clamped the file closed, his mind racing faster than he could keep up with. So for one, it wasn't just in his head which was a good thing. He could rule out a brain tumor. But on the other hand that leaves the question of why the hell he smells like his nanny?

It was all he could focus on all day, paralyzing his work capabilities, reducing him to a state of mere motion without meaning.

It wasn't until the office AC malfunctioned, and he found himself stripping off his jacket, did he discover the source of the floral scent. His own jacket. He inhaled it cautiously, feeling slightly perverted before quickly stowing it away in a drawer, slamming it shut to dispel the borderline inappropriate thoughts.

When he finally arrived home, jacket in hand, he headed straight towards the sound of your humming. Normally, he'd make his rounds--first to Jack's room, who was usually napping at this time, then to the kitchen for his nightly scotch, and finally to his home office. But today was different.

The jacket hung loosely over his forearm, briefcase now abandoned at the door as he made his way towards the sound of your voice. It was the damn scent that greeted him first, drifting from the laundry room, and then, finally, the sight of you.

But what caught his attention, besides you and your slightly too short skirt, was the undeniable evidence of you misting his clothes with your perfume.

He said your name, almost in a scolding way, which he quickly realized his mistake when you whirled around, gasping as the bottle slipped from your fingers, shattering on the tile floor.

"Don't move," Hotch commanded, heart racing as he watched the glass scattered around your bare feet.

He moved towards you, stepping over the glass, carefully scooping you in his arms and setting you safely on the counter. He then knelt down, gathering the broken pieces.

"Mr. Hotchner, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to sweep me off my feet." Your legs were dangling from the counter, swinging back and forth. He gave you a deadpan look, his eyebrow raised every so slightly. "You're no fun."

You pouted, attempting to slide off the counter, but his hand was on your ankle in an instant.

"Stay put," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. He sighed, collecting the last of the glass and tossing it before standing up straight. "Also, is there a particular reason my suits now double as air fresheners?"

"Mr. Hotchner, you wound me with your accusations," you said, hand over your heart, crossing your legs in a criss-cross apple sauce fashion.

You were going to be the death of him.

Hotch cleared his throat, willing his gaze not to dip in between your legs. "You're wearing a skirt."

"Oh whoops," you giggled, fixing your position.

"And for the record, I actually didn't accuse you, but your defensiveness and the fact that I caught you red handed tells me everything I need to know." He took a step towards you. "Care to explain?"

"I...um, wanted to make sure you're always fresh?"

"And you chose your own perfume for that?"

"How do you know it's mine?"

With a step that erased any remaining space between you, Hotch bent slightly, his nose near your collarbone. "It's hard to miss."

He took a step back, giving you room to breathe.

"I just wanted to make sure any girls on the street didn't get the wrong idea," you said, the corners of your mouth turning up.

Hotch let out a chuckle. "You do realize you're my nanny not my wife, correct?"

"Tomato, tomahto."

"Careful."

You swung your legs off the counter, standing up straight. "Any chance to buy me another perfume bottle? It was kind of expensive, and well, you know my salary..."

"No." It wasn't as firm as he wanted it to be and it only took him a second to give in, this happened a lot when it came to you, handing over his credit card. "Fine."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath

#aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x nanny!reader #aaron hotchner x nanny reader

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honey-pages · 7 months ago

Text

Weaker - Viktor X Reader (Study Date Part 2)

This is part 2 to Study Date - as requested and crossposted to Ao3.

Description -

Viktor takes you to the lab, and then takes you in the lab.

1.8k words

Part 3

F/M. 18+. Smut. Pussy Eating, Sex , Dirty Talk, Semi-Public.

The colours of the books in the library seemed much more vivid as you moved to stand. You could not help but be both intimidated by Viktor and irresistibly drawn to him. The events of what just happened were written in blaring red pen across your thoughts and you wobbled a little as you stood up.

“Careful now, we cannot have you passing out before you even get to the lab” Viktor smiled, steadying you with his hand.

You returned the expression. Even looking at him, knowing what you had just been reduced to, was difficult. You felt as though your face was betraying your memories and that if you were to continue, soon the whole library would be alerted to the complete arousal you were drugged by. Almost as if some imaginary announcer would come over the loudspeaker and announce to everyone the slight noises Viktor’s hand made as he-

“(Y/N)? are you okay? You look a little pale; did I take things too far?” He whispered.

“No!” You reply, a little too quickly and sharply, “No, not at all. You have just made me so weak”.

“Weak in a good way?” He asks.

“Yes, definitely in the good way”, you clarify.

He appears happy with this, collecting his things into a bag, and placing the unnecessary extra books back on the return rack. Viktor is the only person you know who is both bold enough to finger you in the library, but also caring enough to double check with you afterwards that it was okay to finger you in the library. You chuckle to yourself. You would never have guessed he was so- out there. Or maybe you would, you had often fantasised about him doing similar things, but you would never have thought that they would leave the confines of your imagination.

The walk to the lab from the library was not too far. There was a passageway that fed between both, and this was the path Viktor took you down. You chatted as you walked. There was no awkwardness, he was as smooth as ever. Any visual signs of stiffness were hidden by his cool outward kindness and personality.

“I mentioned to you earlier about my project. Ill happily show you what I am working on if you are interested.” He suggested

“I’d love to see; it is some kind of robot if I am correct?” You reply.

“Me and Jayce are putting together some concepts to form a sort of robot - yes. Though there are a few other more… personal things, I’m working on.”

You wondered what this could be as you approached the lab. Passing through the large outer door, the lab was cold but intimate. To the centre was a large diamond like window, open fully, a thick breeze washing through. You had only visited this place in passing, bringing about notes and paperwork and strange little contraptions. It wasn’t a place that was widely accessible as it was usually kept just for Viktor and Jayce. It felt quite alien to be here, like you had walked into some mysterious world in which you were a little out of your depth.

“Water?” Viktor calls to you.

“Oh, yeah! Thank you!” You reply.

He fills you a glass from the water station labelled “DRINKING WATER- NOT COOLING FLUID.”

“We had an incident a while back” Viktor references the sign, “Jayce was a little chilly for a few days.”

You laugh, it was easy to imagine. Viktor props himself against the edge of the main table and hands you the glass, watching as you drink most of the water. You hadn't realised just how thirsty you felt.

“Better?” He suggests.

“Much”

“It’s a good idea to keep your fluids up, considering how much you lost earlier” He grins.

You suddenly cannot drink more water. You flush red, but play it off coolly, sitting on the edge of the table not far from him and placing down the glass.

“It’s also a good idea to keep your fluids up considering how much more you are about to lose.” He adds.

Viktor closes the gap between the two of you, standing in front of you between your knees. Even with you sat down, he stands face to face.

“Do you know how long I have wanted to do what I have done to you today?” He asks, “For months I have watched you. I have sat next to you, hard and aching, waiting for the right time, for when I felt right touching you. I need to taste you.”

Your stomach is in knots once more, the wetness from not too long ago is now feeling extra sensitive as you begin to pulsate. Him confessing his need for you fills you with unexpected courage. You place your hands on his back and pull him in gently, closer. You press your hips against his, the table height aligning them both. You angle your face upwards, and lightly plant a kiss against his lips. He accepts and deepens it, testing the waters with the tip of his tongue, enveloping you and drawing you in until both tongues are dancing and passionate.

His hands are wandering as you feel his weight against you, they find first the edge of you face as he holds it, then your hair, following down to your shoulders, round to your breasts. He applies pressure; hands of a scientist feeling and curiously undoing, testing and taking apart. He gropes at you harder, and you feel him, firm and straining against his clothes.

He begins to undo your shirt, slowly removing it and sliding it off your body, at the feel of you in a bra he breaks the kiss, looking down in admiration at you before him.

“Ah, Miss (Y/N), you’re perfect.”

You catch his eyes as they gaze back up at your face, you hold them there, not removing your stare as you reach forward for his zip.

He grins, a laugh escaping, “Oh no, I have waited too long to touch you to be hindered by my own cock.”

He pulls away rapidly, searching around the room. He finds his chair, pulling at it until the wheels oblige and it drags in between your knees. He sits down, head level with your hips.

“I am adamant Miss (Y/N) that I taste you.”

He places a flat hand against your chest, pushing you down gently until you lay flat on his desk. When in this position, you can see up and into the sky through the other looking large window.

“Viktor, the window is open” You feign complaint.

“You were quiet enough in the library, I am sure you can behave for me again.”

His hands raise your hips, sliding down your clothes and underwear, leaving you almost bare in front of him. Your legs are closed instinctively, and he reclines back in his chair enjoying his view.

“You are hiding from me, (Y/N). Spread your legs for me. I want to see all of you.”

You hesitate out of nervousness but widen them for him. You watch the clouds in anticipation. The chair creeks and the wheels squeak. Viktor slides the flat of his tongue directly up the centre of you, gathering up your earlier wetness and sweeping it over your clit. He wraps both arms around each for your thighs and holds you down tight as he demolishes you.

You cry out loudly at the surprise of it, but he doesn’t stop. In fact, he increases his speed and pressure, curling and flicking his tongue around your clit desperately. You grab onto wood of the table to keep yourself from shaking.

“Oh God, Viktor- “

If he replies, it is buried deep inside of you as he continues to work, his whole face wet.

“I have changed my mind. I don’t want you to behave for me. I want to hear you; I want to know what I do to you. Let Piltover know.”

“Viktor!’

He replaces his tongue with an addition of two of his fingers. He tests you carefully when inserting to ensure you slide open for him and he meets no resistance. He rhythmically pushes his fingers inside of you, working you up and then crashing his palm against your clit. He sometimes breaks rhythm to rub you with his open palm. He utilises the whole of his hand when his tongue is not busy.

“Viktor, I need you. “You cry out.

“I’m sorry, I can hear you over the sounds of my hands.”

Louder this time, you moan, “Viktor please, I want you to fuck me.”

The outside world is somehow quieter, but you are not very aware of your surroundings, a blurring realisation sweeps over you that you do not care. All you need is Viktor. Viktor is restraining himself from releasing his cock and taking you. He is twitching and sensitive and very aware of just how easy it would be to give into his urges and fuck you into the table. He wants to focus on your pleasure. He adds another finger. Your moans are too much for him, you are too much for him. You weaken him and suddenly he is inappropriately touching you in the library, you always make him come undone. He debates whether to give you what you want.

“Viktor, please- “

With his face buried, he undoes his belt, buttons and zip, freeing himself. You are unaware of this as your vision is still fixed on your view of the labs window.

“Please what?” He asks in amusement.

“Please- “

As you say the words, he pre-emptively enters you, catching the words in your throat. You shout out loudly. You may hear mutterings from the street below, but you aren’t sure. Viktor makes an ungodly noise as he enters you, almost falling over the edge himself. His hands are now fixed in fists on either side of your waist as he pounds into you against the table.

He feels the pressure building. He needed this, needed you. He fixates on the way you look underneath him, splayed out on his desk all for him. He watches the open window, the people walking by below. If they were to look up, they would see him. You grip him, the sides of you holding him tightly, pulling him in, contracting against his length.

Viktor is about to make you undone. With each thrust the feeling doubles and you feel tighter than previously as your body works up to its release. You try to warn him but the only sounds escaping you are unintelligible.

A sudden hard thrust sends you over and you cry out. “Viktor, I- Im- “.

Viktor knows. He has felt the clench of you around him and feels you grip him tighter than before, pulsating and spasming. This is enough and he can’t control himself. He pushes deep inside and fills you.

“(Y/N)- “

Words seem to have escaped the both of you. Breathless, panting and messy, you cling to each other.

Viktor stays inside you for a little while after as he begins to soften. Seeing you filled with him, so vulnerable and bare, it rewires an emotional response. Something in him changes and softens more for you than it already was. He holds you for a long time and does not let go.

#viktor x you #viktor x reader #viktor smut #viktor lol #viktor league of legends #viktor arcane #request #smut #arcane

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