#the only explanation for him hanging on to it for so long lmao

[kitten4sannie]

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

pairing: dilf next door! yunho x fem! reader

genre: neighbor au, fluff, smut

summary: you try your next door neighbor on for size when your date cancels on you last minute.

w.c: 3.8k

warnings: yuyu is in his late 40s 🙂‍↕️, controversial spider-man takes LMAO, wine drinking (they are tipsy at most!), brief play fighting, (mostly) dom switch! yuyu but he also whimpers and whines 🙂‍↕️, subby switch! reader, big dick yuyu agenda ‼️, praise/pet names only, teasing (only a lil bit while he talks reader thru it uwu), brief spit kink, kissing, dry humping, fingering, face sitting, size kink >:))), bulge kink, creampie 💕

a/n: hihi i’m back! this fic is dedicated to my bestie tasha @ildangtaek ilyyy :(( and happy birthday againn i hope your special day was as lovely as you are <3 there really wasn’t much inspo for this i just ❤️ dilfs with my whole kitty esp when it’s yuyu uwu enjoy xx

p.s: thank you so very much for 7k followers! it’s still so unreal to me 🥹💕

song recs: new light — john mayer, boy is mine — ariana grande, plants — crumb

“So…you’re not coming…?” you asked your potential date through your speaker phone, slowly sitting back down in front of your vanity mirror, your puzzled reflection staring back at you. 

You listened to his vague explanation about how he wasn’t quite ready to take this next step with you, whatever that meant. All you were going to do was eat dinner and chat, not exchange marriage vows. He hung up before you had the chance to tell him how silly he sounded. Sulking, you shuffled into your bathroom to undo all the effort you put into looking like a five course meal for an undeserving stranger. 

Halfway through washing your face, you heard your oven timer go off. You completely forgot about the pizza you had made in a rush for you and your date to share. Pulling it out of the oven with a small sigh, you couldn’t help but stare at the unopened bottle of wine on the counter. It would’ve been entirely too easy for you to just get drunk, eat the entire pizza, and cry yourself to sleep afterwards, but a tiny voice inside the back of your mind told you to invite your cute neighbor over instead — even if he was a lot older than you. Would that be so bad? 

The phone only rang for a second before Yunho picked up. “Y/N, hey! What’s up?” Was it uncouth to answer right away or to let it ring for a while longer? He wasn’t sure what the younger crowd preferred nowadays, but he was sure that he wouldn’t let an opportunity to chat with his pretty neighbor slip away. 

“Hey, Yunho!” you began, rolling a metal slicer through the thick crust of your homemade pizza. Your neighbor always sounded so happy when you called him. You could practically hear his imaginary tail wagging. Was he like this with everyone? “What are you up to?”

Yunho’s voice sounded a bit farther away and somewhat strained when he spoke again. “Just fixing up my garden. Oh! My honeysuckles finally bloomed!”

“Already? That’s great!” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. He was so cute. “So, uh, long story short, my date canceled on me after I made us pizza...There’s wine too.” You bit into your bottom lip, wondering just how desperate you were about to sound. 

“What a dickhead. Why would anyone cancel on you? I mean, you’re so–” he cut himself off, clearing his throat. “Cool, you know…” Yunho set his gardening trowel down onto the bed of dirt below in favor of bonking himself lightly on the side of the head. 

“Thanks, Yun,” you giggled, curling a lock of hair around your finger. You swallowed down your doubt before it overtook you. “Did you wanna, like…hang out?”

Maybe Yunho didn’t fumble, after all. “I’d love to, Y/N.” He looked at the newly bloomed flowers sitting in front of him. It was fate. “I’ll be right over, okay? Wait for me~” 

“See you~” you replied, matching his tone. Once you hung up, you looked down at the comfy hoodie and sleep shorts you had slipped into. You only had a few seconds to wonder if you should change or not before your doorbell rang. 

Yunho’s honey brown eyes widened upon seeing you, his cheeks growing warm. “H-hey, Y/N!” He nervously shuffled his feet, his scuffed Converse squeaking against the rubber doormat. He moved his arm in an odd way; it was clear he was holding something behind his back. 

“I know it’s not technically a date, but I thought I should bring you something…” 

Yunho held out a bouquet of the freshly picked honeysuckles, except now they were delicately tied together with some pretty lace. You looked down at them in disbelief, gently taking them into your arms. Tears threatened to leave your eyes when you tilted your head back up to meet Yunho’s gentle gaze. “Thank you so much…I…Are you an angel?” 

A big cheesy smile spread across Yunho’s face. “Just your friendly neighborhood gardener.” 

And with that, you moved aside to let him in, mirroring Yunho’s infectious smile.

-

“Nice place,” Yunho approved in an oddly soft tone, looking around your cozy living room. Taking a sip of wine, he meandered over to your impressive media cabinet, scanning all the various movies that neatly lined the shelf. “I haven’t seen a DVD in ages…” He turned his head to look at you, his eyes crinkled with amusement. “I didn’t know you were old school.” 

You let out a small snicker, pulling out one of the DVDs to run a finger along the smooth edges. “I’ve always preferred physical copies. Digital just isn’t the same…” You met his wholehearted gaze, your heart skipping a beat. “You know…?” You were so close to him, you were able to notice his pronounced smile lines as soon as his lips curled up. 

“You’re speaking my language, kiddo.” Yunho took another sip from his glass, looking off to the side. He shook his head absentmindedly, reminiscing about something. “Everything was so much better in the early 90s…” 

You pouted, gently elbowing him through his shirt. “Hey, I wasn’t even born yet.” 

“Oh, that’s right.” He took in a sharp breath, holding it for a second. Once he let it out, he just about deflated like a balloon. “I’m old…aren’t I?” 

Scoffing, you mindlessly flipped the DVD around in your hands. “We’re all aging.” You hoped you weren’t looking too deeply into his eyes. “Why does it matter what step you’re at?” 

Yunho was captivated. He hadn’t felt this kind of acceptance in quite some time. “I’ll try to think of it like that,” he voiced softly, reaching up to pat the top of your head. “Thank you.” 

A simple head pat from your seasoned neighbor shouldn’t have affected you the way it did, heat creeping up on your cheeks, the DVD creaking in protest inside your tight grasp. “Y-you better.” 

“O-oh?” Yunho was caught off guard by your bold words, surprised by his body’s immediate response to it. He slowly lowered his glass, trying to casually hide his half-chub from view. “I will then…” 

You tapped your finger rhythmically against the DVD, delighted with the sheepish look on the older man’s face. You wanted to attribute your growing confidence to the alcohol settling inside your stomach, but you knew you would’ve tested the waters either way. And with that, you reached all the way up to pat the top of his head. “Good.” 

There was an electric current of sorts lighting up the edges of Yunho’s brain — one that would spark sooner rather than later. Before he could say anything that might scare you off, he finally took a look at the DVD you had been holding. “Is…is that the original Spider-man?” 

“Thought you would never notice,” you giggled, his long fingers overlapping yours when you handed it to him. “I have one and two. Three doesn’t exist in my mind.”

Yunho was sure he met his perfect match. “We’re watching them,” Yunho decided for the both of you, his eyes widening with excitement. “Right now.” 

You leaned in a bit closer to him. “What are you waiting for? Put it in.” 

He followed suit, being drawn in like a magnet.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

-

It took finishing the cheap bottle of wine and movies together for you both to finally let totally loose around one another, though your matching flushed cheeks and sweaty palms weren’t a result of being tipsy. It was simply a side effect of being around each other. You were so engrossed with one another, that you didn’t even bother turning the TV off, simply letting the DVD icon freely bounce into each corner of the screen for what seemed like hours. 

Yunho couldn’t quite finish chewing the crust of his slice of cold pizza before he explained with his mouth full, “Peter knowingly killed Harry’s father. Harry following in the footsteps of his dad and becoming the Green Goblin was inevitable.” 

“You having delusional takes was inevitable,” you shot back, getting so worked up over this nonsensical argument that you almost choked on your own frozen pizza. “I should’ve known that as soon as you said Spider-man 2 was mid.” 

Yunho pressed closer to you, gently reaching up to squish your cheeks together. “Aww, someone’s grumpy.” 

Your body was beginning to overheat. He was so close to you, and he smelled so good, fresh like cool eucalyptus, and warm like burning sage. You almost couldn’t focus on getting under your older neighbor’s skin, your words coming out a bit garbled when you provoked him, “Harry was a terrible Venom, by the way.” 

Yunho let out a sharp, offended gasp. “You take that back!” he demanded jokingly, pretending to lunge at you, his hands instead stopping short of touching your shoulders, his breath getting caught inside his throat when you decided to actually lunge back.

“Never!” It was surprisingly easy to take down someone who was almost twice the size of you, but you knew internally Yunho was letting it happen. You almost wished he would give you the same treatment. 

Yunho fell back against the couch cushion, his limbs sprawled out, except for one of his thighs, the one you were haphazardly sitting on. He began blocking your feeble attempts to tickle him, not putting a whole lot of effort into getting you off of his lap. “Admit it was peak cinema, will you?” He sounded out of breath, but not for the right reason. 

“Maybe if you admit I’m right,” you sighed out, not stopping your pursuit until you finally had his obnoxiously long body pinned underneath your significantly smaller one. Now straddling his hips, you closed your fingers around his wrists to keep him still. You were hunched over now, only a few inches away from Yunho’s reddened face, feeling him move against you, causing friction in between your thighs. You quickly bit into your bottom lip, your brows joining ever so slightly. Yunho wasn’t answering you, just looking up at you with his big glossy eyes. It was driving you crazy.

“Lemme hear you say it…” 

Yunho blew a few dyed dirty blond locks out of his view. Everything was moving so fast a second ago, and now, it felt like slow motion. He watched as your zip-up hoodie slipped down one of your shoulders, immediately distracted by your thighs once he readjusted his own. Your tiny shorts were riding up, leaving little to imagination. “You’re right,” your neighbor exhaled out, his soft breath hitting the bottom of your chin. 

Yunho sure had a big smile for someone who had just lost an argument, fake or not, and that’s when it hit you, or poked you, rather. You had been sitting directly on Yunho’s clothed cock, now feeling it throb against your exposed core through the thin material of your shorts. This sudden discovery could no longer go unnoticed. “That’s…what I thought,” you huffed, dragging your hips forward in a slow, methodical manner, drawing a long, airy moan out of your older neighbor. 

“I-if you do that, I’ll, nnngh–” Yunho tossed his head back into the couch, feeling your equally sweaty hands slipping off of his wrists, your palms pressing into his warm chest. His hands immediately moved to your hips like they belonged there, his fingers so long and slender that they touched at the small of your back. “This is what you wanted all along, huh? You should’ve said something, kiddo…” 

“Aren’t you the one who got hard five minutes into our date? Don’t think I didn’t notice,” you teased him back, trying to distract him from the fact that you were actively leaving a wet patch on Yunho’s tented pants. 

“So, it is a date,” the older man breathed out, squeezing the soft flesh of your hips in between his fingers from underneath your hoodie, purposely dragging you across his manhood, before staying still, like he was testing the waters. “Aren’t I a lucky man?” 

You just about melted from his sudden display of dominance over your body, now needing more, as though you were just introduced to a new drug. “Sh-show me…how lucky you are.” He waited silently below you, quirking his head to the side, before you realized. 

“Please.” 

“Good girl.” It seemed like his hips began to move without his permission, rolling them up into you, his movements disjointed and sloppy. Desperate. He was desperate for you, his lovely little neighbor, the one he had spent countless days and nights yearning for. “Fuck, is this okay…?” he still found himself asking you from underneath his breath, needing more confirmation, despite actively making you grind against him like it was going out of style. 

“Yeahh,” you gasped, just as you completely relinquished your feigned control, Yunho manually guiding your hips along his trapped, aching cock, the frantic pursuit of friction only fueling the already raging fires inside the both of you. “Need more, actually…” 

“More?” Each small sporadic moan he heard coming from above was like music to his ears, more and more arousal shooting through his heated body and straight into his cock. He truly couldn't take it much longer, unless he wanted to bust inside his jeans like a loser. “Tell me…Tell me what you need, baby…” 

Of course, your cute, seemingly innocent neighbor would be the type to make you ask for it. Your cheeks stung, especially now that he wouldn’t stop trying to catch your wandering gaze. “Touch me, Yun...”

“Touch you…? Touch you where?” 

Chewing at your bottom lip, you pulled your tiny shorts up by the waistband, your pussy on full display for him.  “Here, please…” 

“Fuckin’ hell…” One of Yunho’s hands left your hips, gingerly pulling said shorts to the side to reveal your glistening cunt. Yunho had dreamt of this moment for ages, and now that he was finally living it, he was absolutely ready to give his all for the angel sitting on his lap. “Jesus Christ...All of you is so pretty...so perfect.” 

“I’m all yours,” you whispered, running your hands down his warm chest.

Yunho felt his brain short-circuiting in real time. “Fuck, you have no idea how crazy that makes me.” 

The man’s cock pulsed from underneath you, leading you to bite back a moan. “Show me.” 

“Then, sit on my face, angel.” 

Once you were angled above him, Yunho pulled the shorts you soaked up by the inseam, emphasizing the shape of your pussy for his own amusement. He rubbed the pads of his index and middle finger along your clothed lips, knowing he found your clit with his thumb when you let out a sharp gasp. “Right there, hm? Did I find your cute little clit, baby? 

“Uh-huh…” 

He rolled your clit around in slow, teasing circles. “Want me to find your hole next?” Your sheepish, yet eager nods only fueled Yunho’s already raving arousal. 

The unmistakable sound of fabric being ripped was registered by your senses first, before you watched your tiny torn pair of shorts disappear into the depths of the fluffy carpet beside the couch. The cold air that had hit your bare cunt was quickly replaced by your eager neighbor’s warm tongue. “Oh…!” 

Yunho greedily lapped up your arousal into his mouth, mapping out the entirety of your cunt with his lips and tongue, the bottom half of his face already shining with your wetness. The man eventually spread you open with two slender fingers, watching your hole flutter around nothing. “Found it…” He was so overcome with lust, that he sent a wad of spit into your cunt, before plugging you up with his tongue. 

“Yunho, oh my god–” You reached down to hold onto the sides of his head, your fingers curling around his dirty blond locks. 

It was when your hazy eyes met that Yunho began to tongue-fuck you in a vigorous manner, each and every impossibly wet sound your slick cunt made only furthering your neighbor’s desire to make you fall apart. He only ceased his worship to groan, “Fuck, do you get this goddamn wet for everyone?” 

Your thighs were starting to shake. You were close. “Just you, Yunho…” Now that the man was looking back up at you with those big puppy dog eyes, you couldn’t help but tug at his hair. “You look like you wanna say something, baby.” The small, uncharacteristically whiny moan he let out encouraged you to take matters into your own hands, rubbing your cunt along Yunho’s spread-out tongue, your puffy clit routinely bumping into his curved nose. He let out another pretty-sounding moan. It made you smile. “C’mon…use your words…” 

“Cum on my face, please,” he voiced urgently, his lips still pressed to your wet cunt. 

“Fuck, yeah, okay,” you gasped in agreement, only able to grind yourself across Yunho’s tongue a few more times, before he cemented his hands around your waist, forcefully bringing you down onto his mouth. 

Yunho couldn’t make out any of the words coming out of your mouth, too focused on the heavy moans you were letting out in between them. Your clit throbbed against his hot tongue, and once he licked down to your spasming hole, he felt the warm spray of your release hit his tongue. Savoring the taste of you on his swollen lips, he gazed up at you with pride. “That’s my girl.” 

With your legs shaking and your heart pounding, you climbed off of him, watching him sit up and lean back against the couch, his aching cock still trapped inside the confines of his pants. You couldn’t help but lick at your own lips. “Take it out, Yunho…”

Yunho obliged, hastily undoing his leather belt. His sizable cock smacked heavily into his abdomen upon release, leaving a trail of pre-cum behind on his t-shirt. A prominent vein traveled up from the base of his cock to the thick tip where it was an eye-catching shade of pink. It matched the flush on his cheeks and ears. 

Despite being confident about his size, there was a nervous glint in his eyes. “What do you think…?” 

“Pretty…” You were sure you were drooling. 

Chuckling in relief, Yunho patted one of his spread thighs. “Come here, princess. See how pretty it is up close.” 

And you did just that, perching yourself on top of Yunho’s lap like you belonged there. Yunho still couldn’t believe his luck. Not only did he have the privilege of rewatching his favorite movies with his pretty neighbor, but he somehow ended up with you on his cock. He was determined to make it worth your while. “You like being on top, huh?” 

“I just didn’t want to put all the hard work on you,” you pouted, gently running your finger around his tip to collect his arousal, giggling at the way he jolted against your touch. 

“Oh, because I’m like 20 years your senior? Think I can’t handle all this?” he asked under his breath, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass from either side. 

Mewing from his touch, you aloofly licked his pre-cum from your finger, making the man whine in response. “I think you should prove it, Yun,” you whispered near his lips, leaving a chaste kiss against them.  

Yunho’s thick tip entered you first, your cunt slowly stretching open to accommodate his size. “I’ll show you, baby…” Feeling you tense up against him, Yunho made sure he took his time with you, pushing into you inch by inch, diligently studying your face for any sign of discomfort. He did all of this, only for your greedy cunt to swallow up his cock to the hilt. 

You didn’t even know you could feel this full. You were positive he was inside your guts. “Yunho, fuck– it’s so big,” you gasped into his neck. A small puff of air hit the side of your flushed face. 

“You’re just tiny, sweetheart. You can’t help it,” he whispered against your skin, rubbing your lower back in gentle circles. His teeth nipped at your earlobe. “But, you can take it, yeah?” 

You gave him a small nod, but that wasn’t good enough for the man. He pressed his forehead into yours, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “I want to hear you say it, Y/N.” 

When he let out a small breath, you took one in, clutching the sides of his face. “I can take it, Yunho.” 

Yunho began to move before you had the chance to properly ride him, holding your soft hips, using them like handlebars. “Y/N, baby, you’re so tight…” Each thrust he made was purposeful, deep, like he wanted to reach the innermost part of you, and leave his mark there. You were so warm, so hot inside, the man was sure he was going to melt if he continued, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. “I’m going to make you mine…” 

You choked out a moan, tightening your grip around him. 

“Yeah?” His lips ghosted along your jaw. “That’s what you want?” 

“Please,” you begged Yunho, digging your nails into his back. “Make me yours.”

Yunho simply couldn’t hold himself back any longer, not while he had you like putty in his arms, your body limp, completely and utterly at his mercy. “There we go, baby…Don’t worry that pretty head about anything, just focus on this cock.” And he made sure you felt each and every inch of it, figuring he was hitting your cervix from the way you gasped for air like there was none left. 

“Fuck..!” you cried, delirious with pleasure. “I’ll cum, I’m gonna cum, Yunho, please, don’t stop–”

His hips matched the quick, wavered desperation of your voice, pounding himself in and out of your squelching cunt. “Fall apart for me, princess…Let me feel it…” He slipped his free hand between your heated bodies, giving your clit a few vigorous rubs with his calloused thumb. 

You couldn’t speak, simply opening your mouth to let out a soundless moan, your body jolting away from his touch. “That’s it…that’s it, my love, let go,” he sighed against your lips, his thumb still swiping over your sensitive clit, his throbbing length reaching places you never could without his help.

Just as your warmth spilled out of you, Yunho held you still within his firm grasp, his forehead resting against yours. He was almost completely out of breath, a few drops of sweat cascading along his temple. “Inside…?”

You nodded desperately. “Inside, please…” 

Yunho indulged in your mutual desire, pressing his hand down against your tummy to feel the space he took up inside you. He filled you to the brim with his hot white release, so much so that it spilled past your joined bodies and dripped out onto the couch. 

He managed to give you a small sheepish smile when your eyes met. “You’ll really be mine after this, won’t you, kiddo?” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, reaching up to caress his cheek. It was warm to the touch. “Good thing you live right next door.” 

© kitten4sannie, 2025.

[ace-turned-confused]

sea spray | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist

summary: a relaxing weekend break by the sea is just what you need, but spending it under the same roof as joel miller might not be the kind of relaxing you had in mind word count: 3,4k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied / wears a bikini & a dress / can swim, pet names, unspecified age gap, food & alcohol consumption, smut, m masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v, spitting, creampie, overstimulation, joel's filthy mouth, praise kink, size kink a/n: i actually did spend the past weekend by the sea, unfortunately without joel miller 😔 written for @mermaidgirl30's Ocean Challenge! of course it took the entire timeframe of your challenge for inspiration to strike, but it was super fun! 🩵 big hugs to @morallyinept for beta'ing & the kind words, your message legit put the biggest grin on my face LMAO ily 💜

Going away with your parents for a long weekend is just what you need — walks along the cliff path, cocktails on the beach, lounging in the sun. Plus the bonus of free accommodation and your meals being paid for. You’re long overdue for a break and this will be a good change of scenery.

The bricks burn through your sandals as you unload your bags. Midday sun blazing down on you, you’re desperate for a cold shower after two hours of traffic to get here.

“Hello?”

You’re met with silence as you push open the front door, a rare breeze coming through the windows. They must’ve gone into town. Kicking off your shoes, you pad through to your room at the back of the house and dump your bags.

You peel your clothes off and run a shower, washing off the sweat and stress of the morning. Unpacking your bags, most of your weekend attire is swimsuits and dresses; you’ll just be floating around the house the rest of the day and decide on a blue and white check bikini, pulling on plain linen shorts.

Making your way upstairs, the rest of the house is still, the only sound coming from slow waves rolling against the rocks. Kelp bobs up and down in the swell and wispy clouds dot the sky, you pull your phone out to snap some pictures to send to your friends, relishing in the tranquillity.

You hear muted footsteps and turn around, expecting to see your parents come up the stairs. Instead, you’re met with Joel Miller — your dad's best friend with nothing but a thin towel hanging low on his hips.

“Oh! Didn’t uh- didn’t hear you come in sweetheart.”

Your eyes flicker down as he adjusts his towel — he clears his throat and you snap your eyes back up to his face.

“I got in about half an hour ago, I just got out of the shower. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Your old man told me to come up for the weekend, he didn’t mention what time they’d be back this afternoon though.”

You nod and turn to look outside again, the image of Joel in his towel now burned into your mind. You don’t ask him about it — no possible explanation would stop your mind from wandering.

You were much younger the last time you saw him — just a sweet girl harbouring an innocent crush on a handsome man. Now you’re far from sweet, and that crush is far from innocent. This is the most you’ve ever seen of him — greying curls in every direction, wide chest into a soft tummy, dark trail of hair below his navel disappearing beneath his towel.

You can feel a wet spot forming on your bikini bottoms — so much for a relaxing weekend.

-

Joel’s seen you in passing and heard about your various achievements and adventures from your parents, but it’s been years since he spent so much time with you in such close quarters. He can’t remember you being so… grown up.

Seeing you stand there in just your bikini, your eyes flitting down to his towel, he almost instantly began to harden. Maybe some light conversation will calm him down.

“So, what you got planned for the rest of the day?”

You turn to face him again and he takes a steadying breath.

“I was gonna head down to the beach but it’s fucking hot out, so I think I’ll just be lazy here instead.”

“Pool’s nice if you’re keen on a swim.”

You slink past to head downstairs, stopping in front of him to look up at him.

“You wanna join me?”

“Think I’ll uh, sit this one out. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

Scratching at the nape of his neck as you descend the stairs, he’s not sure how he’s going to survive this weekend. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this — you’re young, spritely, his best friend’s daughter — but he watches out the window anyway as you pull down your shorts, glass in hand, and dip down into the water.

He sneaks off to his room before you can notice.

-

Sitting on the edge of the bed with his head tilted to the ceiling, he’s already fully hard. He lets the towel fall open and wraps a hand around his throbbing cock. He shouldn’t do this, but who’s going to know?

Stroking himself with long, slow pumps, he closes his eyes and all he can see is you. Ass peeking out the edge of your bottoms, your tits spilling out your bikini top, so much skin. You sighed as you sat down in the water, a breathy, satiated sound — he wishes he could make those sounds spill from your mouth.

Precome leaking from his tip, he’s reaching his end embarrassingly fast. Speeding up to fist himself tightly, he imagines your hand wrapped around his cock instead. He imagines burying his tongue, fingers, cock into your cunt, tight and wet and his to have however he pleases.

It takes just one, two, three more strokes of his cock and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, biting back a moan as he comes, spilling milky ropes across his hand and lower stomach. Using the same towel to clean up his mess, he tells himself he won’t do this again, he can’t do this again.

He shifts up to lean against the headboard as he comes down from his high, deciding to stay clear of you until your parents get home. Keeping you out of sight is the best way forward, even if he can’t keep you out of his mind.

-

You spend the rest of the day in the pool, nursing a Long Island iced tea and paging through your book. Joel doesn’t show face again, but it’s for the best — you can’t stop thinking about that damn towel and how easily it could slip down.

Your phone rings and pulls you from your daydreaming; you haul yourself out of the pool and pat yourself dry, fingertips wrinkled from the water. You see it’s your mom calling, and slide to answer.

You don’t get a chance to say hello and she’s bombarding you with questions.

“Hi, sweetie! How was the drive? I hope you didn’t have too much traffic. Oh! And did you see Joel? He’s with us for the weekend, maybe he went out for the day too.”

You certainly did see Joel. You still can even with your eyes closed.

“Hi, Mom. The drive was fine, and Joel’s been here the whole day.”

“That’s nice. I hope you don’t mind, you two always got along well so your father didn’t think to tell you beforehand. Listen, why don’t you and Joel come through to town for dinner with us? I’ll send you the restaurant name.”

“Yeah, okay sure. See you soon.”

“Bye, sweetie. See you.”

She hangs up the phone and you venture inside to find Joel, heading towards the spare room. Pressing your ear to the door, you don’t hear any movement. Maybe he’s sleeping.

“Joel?” You knock on the door and hear rustling, he responds a few moments later.

“Yeah? You can- you can come in.”

You nudge the door open and he’s sitting up in bed, sheets pulled to the same height his towel was hanging earlier and it takes everything you have not to stare, debate if he’s still got that towel on or is stark naked.

Stepping just over the threshold, you lean against the wall to steady yourself and focus your eyes on his face.

“My mom called, she said we must go into town to meet them for dinner. She texted me the address.”

“Sounds good, I can drive us. I’ll just uh, get ready.”

You nod and retreat from his room in silence — you’ll be able to hold a conversation once he’s fully clothed.

-

Tonight’s restaurant is right along the shoreline, carved into the cliffside. It’s a good climb down the hillside and you’re glad you’re wearing flats, mentally noting to go easy on the drinks tonight to make it back up again. Gentle waves lap against the rocks and the sea breeze is just the refresher you need after a hot summer day.

You’ve changed into a strappy dress, the hemline falling just above your knees and Joel’s in a loose button-down and board shorts. Your parents are sitting across from you, and they’d spent the better part of an hour asking you about work and romantic prospects.

Once satisfied with your answers, they turn to focus on each other, leaving you and Joel to your own devices. With them both engrossed in conversation, you try and test the waters.

You shift your legs under the table and bump your knee into Joel’s — his hand falters as he scoops more food onto his spoon, but doesn’t pull away. You push further, pressing your thigh against his and he stills completely, peering at you out of the corner of his eye.

The unfortunate combination of the summer heat and your heavy hand when pouring your drink earlier has made you fearless. You snake a hand below the table, resting it dangerously close to the growing bulge in his shorts.

He drops his spoon, catching your dad’s attention.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, uh… Yeah, fine.” He swallows and gives them a tight smile, waiting for them to continue their conversation.

“What the hell are you doin’?” Joel practically hisses at you under his breath, eyes flashing in your direction.

You ignore him and flatten your hand, unsure if the heat you can feel is radiating from him or yourself. You continue moving upwards, the tips of your fingers brushing against the outline of his cock.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” You whisper back to him, unmoving in your chair.

You start palming him through his shorts, angling your head to look at him and a fresh wave of arousal floods your panties.

“Sweetheart, you can’t be doin’ this. Not here.”

“Say stop and I will.”

His eyes flutter closed, taking in a shaky breath. It feels like he’s already fully hard.

Just when you think you’ve won, your parents stand up and you rip your hand away, heart racing in your chest. Caught up in your teasing you hadn’t noticed they’d finished dessert and paid the bill. You look at your dad with wide eyes, hoping nobody saw anything.

“Nice dinner, everyone. Good to have you here, kiddo. We’ll see you back at the house, been a long day.”

“Um, yeah, we’ll follow you guys.” You hope you sound less startled than you feel. 

He rounds the table, a hand coming down on your and Joel’s shoulders and he walks off. You and Joel stand to follow him — your mind foggy with lust, you can feel his eyes burn into you, but you don’t dare look at him.

-

Arriving home after a charged car ride with Joel, your parents say goodnight and their door shuts behind them. The room falls silent, you’re unsure who will make the first move. Joel grabs onto your arm, dragging you through the house.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me now, sweetheart. You’re gonna finish what you started.”

He pulls your dress over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Pushing you onto your bed, his eyes trail up and down your figure as you lie before him.

“What were you doing all afternoon? Didn’t see you at all.”

“You wanna know what I was doing?”

You nod and he leans down to speak into your ear, voice low and raspy.

“I was thinkin’ of you, baby. That skimpy little bikini of yours got me all hard, so instead of spendin’ my time out by the beach, I was jacking off in my room and all I could think of was you.”

A shiver runs down your spine, a small whine escaping at his words.

“Thought a lotta things about how you’d be, now we’re gonna see how much of it is true.”

He pushes you down to lie on your back, pulling your panties down. You try to cross your legs out of habit and he grabs your knees, spreading you open before him.

“Now we’re shy, are we? Don’t want me seeing this pretty pussy?”

He cups you entirely and you tilt your hips, chasing the friction of his palm against your clit.

“After that little game you played just now, you’re gonna take what I give you, and you’re gonna enjoy it.”

He wraps his arms under your legs, dragging you to the edge of the bed and drops to his knees, draping one leg over each of his shoulders. You look down at him and he stares into your eyes, flattening his tongue against you and licking a broad stripe up through your folds. He sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling in tight circles and your head falls back against the bed.

“Oh, fuck, Joel.”

He chuckles into you, causing you to moan again.

“Better than the boys you normally go out with?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer, tongue circling your clit again and he drags his fingers up and down, coating them in your arousal. Pushing two fingers into your cunt, the stretch is already far more than with your own — you’re not sure how you’ll ever satisfy yourself after this.

He pumps his fingers in and out, in and out, curling them upwards and you feel heat spreading across your abdomen, your legs just beginning to tremble. You move your hands into his hair, tugging on his curls and he groans against you, speeding up his movements.

“You gonna come for me?”

“Please, Joel. Oh, god, please.”

“Go on then, come. I know you can.”

You tighten your grip on his hair, legs going stiff as you come on his fingers and his movements don’t stop, tongue flicking back and forth over your clit, fingers fucking into you relentlessly to drag out your high. With no chance to recover, he pushes a third finger into you, his pace never faltering.

“Joel, please. It’s too much.”

He pulls off from you just enough to speak, a devilish grin on his face.

“Say stop and I will. I told you you were gonna take what I gave you.”

Mouth latching onto you again, he ignores your protesting, eyes boring into your own. You can see him rutting into the side of the bed and your moans turn into whines and whimpers, the heat pooling at the base of your spine more intense than before.

“Come on, sweetheart, be a good girl for me.”

Pushing his free hand down onto you, he curls his fingers inside of you, grazing over that one spongy spot and your vision blurs. You dig your heels into his back, hips lifting off the bed as you come again, a warm stream of liquid soaking his beard that’s scratching at your inner thighs.

Chest heaving as you come down, he pulls his fingers out and sucks one into his mouth, licking it clean.

“Better than I imagined.”

He leans over you, shoving his other two sticky fingers into your mouth and you whine at tasting yourself on him.

“All that messing around and look where it got you.”

He unbuttons his shirt agonisingly slowly, a smirk spreading across his face. His eyes are blown wide, beard slick with your release as he trails his fingertips up and down your leg, the small hairs standing in his wake. You close your legs and flop back onto the bed, already feeling spent.

“Just one more thing I needa see for myself.”

Finally pulling his shorts down, that tantalising trail of hair you saw this morning spreads into wiry curls surrounding the base of his cock. He’s bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with, fully stiff as he takes himself in his hand with long strokes — thick, throbbing, and precome pearling from his tip.

“Are you gonna fuck my mouth?”

He draws circles into your leg, still stroking himself.

“Not this time. Wanna feel how tight this pussy’s gonna squeeze my cock.”

Not this time. You clench around nothing in anticipation, and he starts crawling up the bed to you.

“Be good and maybe we can use that mouth of yours another day.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, Joel drags himself through your wetness, nudging the tip of his cock against your clit.

“Gonna be a tight fit, sweetheart. Might just ruin this cunt for anyone else.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, both of your eyes locked on where you join. Pushing in just past his tip, your mouth falls open with a strangled moan.

“Warned you. Feels good, doesn’t it?” All you do is whimper in response.

“Gonna feel even better.”

He sheaths himself completely inside of you, hair at his base pressed against your clit and balls pressed against your ass. It’s the most stretched out you’ve ever been — it’s also the best you’ve ever felt and he hasn’t even started moving.

He leans over you and starts grinding his hips, pulling your bra down. Pinching a hardened nipple between his fingers, he takes the other into his mouth, swirling his tongue just the same as before.

You lock your ankles behind his back, legs wrapped around his waist and arms wrapped around his neck, holding onto him as if you’d float away. He lifts his head, a trail of spit connecting his lips to your breast. Bringing a hand up to your face, he squeezes your cheeks to force your mouth open, looking into your eyes as he spits into the back of your throat.

You moan quietly, clenching around his length and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

“Dirty girl. You let other boys spit into your mouth, too?”

You shake your head clumsily and tighten your legs, trying your hardest to grind yourself against him.

“What’s wrong, baby? What happened to it’s too much?”

He straightens up and pries your legs off him, pressing them into your chest. His eyes are dark as he watches how you squirm and stretch around him. He angles his head forward, letting another string of saliva fall from his mouth onto your cunt and it drips down around his cock.

Using two fingers, he puts slight pressure on your clit but doesn’t move.

“You’re gonna come on my cock, and then I’m gonna come inside you. Understand?”

You’re not sure how to string words together on your own accord anymore, clit throbbing and cunt stretched out, mind filled with just Joel.

“Hey, repeat after me, come on: I’m gonna be a good girl.”

“I’m gonna be a… a good girl.”

“Next: I’m gonna come on your big cock.”

“I’m gonna come- on your big cock.”

“And to finish off: You’re gonna come inside me.”

“You’re… gonna come inside me.”

“Was that so difficult?”

He readjusts his grip on your legs and starts pounding into you, the force of his thrusts shifting you up and down, your clit rubbing against his steady fingers. Your moans are only broken by the need for more air, your voice becoming hoarse and getting higher and higher in pitch as he keeps going harder.

You start clamping down on him, the day’s heat and your teasing and the way he’s using you relentlessly quickly becoming too much.

“Come on, sweetheart. You’ve been such a good girl. Come one last time for me and I’ll fill you up.”

His words push you over the edge and he keeps fucking into you as you come. You reach down to hold onto him, your hands wrapping around his arm and you dig your nails into his skin, carving out crescent moons.

Through the ringing in your ears, you can hear him grunting, his resolve finally breaking after a few more thrusts as he spills inside of you, your walls coated in his spend as the warmth spreads throughout your body. He loosens his hold on your legs, bringing them down and massages your tired muscles.

Pulling out of you, you feel his come slowly leak out and down your folds, landing in thick droplets on the sheets. You turn onto your side, sleep already creeping up on you and he drops down behind you, his chest pressed against your back and softening cock against your ass.

“We’re going to the beach tomorrow, and I wanna see what other little outfits you got with you. Try another game like you did tonight, though, and I’m gonna have to put you in your place again.”

You huff a laugh, a gentle, satisfied smile on your face. This long weekend is suddenly far more exciting than you prepared for.

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[torawro]

I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )

sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).

word count ━━ 11k

notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!

THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.

It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.

Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.

Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.

The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.

His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.

Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.

Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.

Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.

Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.

So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.

But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.

Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.

With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.

Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.

But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.

Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.

After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.

When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.

But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.

Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.

You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.

The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."

"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.

The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.

"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."

You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."

You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.

"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."

Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.

"Shall we be on our way?"

You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.

Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.

But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.

After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."

Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”

The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”

You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.

"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"

He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"

You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.

A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."

The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.

You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.

"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"

"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"

You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."

The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"

With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .

"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.

Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.

You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.

The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.

"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.

The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.

“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.

It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.

A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”

The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.

The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.

“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.

The captain's movements seemed steady and slow━ it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.

Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.

But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.

He seemed . . . . closer.

“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."

Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.

The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.

"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."

You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.

"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.

You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.

Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?

The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.

"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."

"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?

Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .

"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."

Wait, what did he just━

Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.

But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.

It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.

It was blood.

Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.

Aizen's blade.

"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."

You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.

You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "

A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.

Fuck....was this really happening?

"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."

'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.

The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.

Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.

As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.

Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.

A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.

What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.

Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.

"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "

"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."

All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.

You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.

There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.

That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.

It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.

The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.

" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.

There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."

The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.

His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.

This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .

Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.

"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"

Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.

"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."

A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.

It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.

The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"

The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.

" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."

At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.

"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.

The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."

You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.

Which reminded you of something else.

" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.

Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.

You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.

"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"

The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━

A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.

Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .

Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.

Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.

It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.

And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.

Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.

Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.

"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.

"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."

Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.

You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.

But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.

This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.

"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.

Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.

And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.

That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.

They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.

The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.

And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.

Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.

And yet.

He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.

It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.

━━━━━━ 鏡  ━━━━━━━

It was dark, and there was nothing.

There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.

He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.

Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.

Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.

Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.

And yet, here he ended up.

Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.

Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.

The thrill of a challenge.

Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.

It made him feel alive.

Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.

All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.

As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.

Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.

Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.

These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.

Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.

Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'

Aizen found amusement in that.

Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."

There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.

But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.

The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.

What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.

The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.

His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.

After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.

This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.

Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.

Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.

His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.

And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.

When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.

Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.

How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.

But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.

Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.

What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.

The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.

Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.

He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.

So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━

"Y....know, S....."

Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?

It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.

One drop at a time.

Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.

"You...know.....Sōsuke."

In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.

That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.

Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.

"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.

Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.

An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.

A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.

Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.

"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."

The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.

He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.

"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"

Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"

Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.

"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."

Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.

"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.

With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.

"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?

Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.

"I called you here to save you from yourself."

Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"

"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."

Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.

His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?

"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."

"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."

The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.

Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.

"You regret . . . killing me."

A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.

Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.

The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."

Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.

The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.

He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.

Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.

"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."

Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.

He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.

Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.

Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.

Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."

Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.

Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.

And they loved it.

"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."

Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.

"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"

Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.

Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."

The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.

Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.

The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .

As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.

Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.

The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.

(#) @soaringmirror @stygianoir @ryukenzz @blkjupiters @chrissie2003 @nymphoheretic @dejwrld @triangularz @souyaszn @kuujo @honeybleed @valentineluvu . let me know if you’d like to be apart of my tag list ♡♡.

[joltai-showa]

still thinking about Obito's tendencies to hang upside down so why not talk about something even more funny

now Obito is obviously trolling the Konoha squad in that moment, acting like a complete idiot and weirdo and all, usual stuff for Tobi. Obito is being a weird little bat on purpose, it's all an act

you know who among Akatsuki, a very scary and a totally serious organization, also acted like a weird little bat, but without it all being an act?

allow me to introduce you to the final page of chapter 238

Kishimoto, why is Deidara's first appearance is him being upside down during Akatsuki's zoom meeting?

(which is supposedly the first one in 7 years since Orochimaru ditched them, but whatever, no fucking way these guys can remain semi-organized without a good old online meetup, I do not care for canon's opinion when it conflicts with my funny headcanons)

But seriously, it's been almost 10 years since I read the manga for the first time and there's still no explanation as to why Deidara did that LMAO. Logic dictates that it's simply Kishimoto not finishing up the designs for his new villains (rinnegan's design wasn't finalized until, like, Akatsuki Supression arc, I believe? there's someone TOWERING over Kisame who is 195cm already and at the end of the day remains Akatsuki's tallest member, etc etc), but I've got a PhD in overthinking Naruto details and turning them into shitposts that sometimes also turn into fanfiction, so I will take this one tiny detail and make myself laugh until I cry.

To me this moment is just so precious because it's actually a scene from OG Naruto, meaning that it's pre-timeskip, so Deidara here is only 16. And this just proves to me that Deidara's puberty (there is no exact indicator as to when Deidara was abducted recruited into Akatsuki, but I assume it happened sometime when he was 12, because during his recruitment we see Itachi (and we know that he joined Akatsuki after the massacre, so he was 13 and he's got a 2 year difference with Deidara), Kisame (who, judging by his pre-death flashbacks, joined AFTER Itachi, meaning some time had to have passed since the massacre) and Sasori (who wouldn't have a partner after Itachi joined because Orochimaru just couldn't resist trying to get that Sharingussy, but Akatsuki don't operate on their own in general, so I doubt Sasori would have been left without a partner for a long time, a year max) and during this zoom meeting 16-year-old Deidara speaks like he's very much aligned with Akatsuki's goals and grudges which would be very weird if he joined them against his will just recently, so a year or more would have to pass between Deidara's recruitment and the OG Naruto zoom meeting) was arguably one of the worst things that organization as a whole had to go through because teenage Deidara was JUST BUILT DIFFERENT.

Don't mind the fact that even as an adult he starts tweaking if he doesn't get to explode something every few hours (I would imagine that teenage rage and angst would only exacerbate this issue), but he would also just want to "look cool" and wouldn't listen to anyone in any position of authority AT ALL. Going back to this scene of Akatsuki's zoom call, we can see (and for certain characters assume because once again designs here are kind of wack) that these overly serious members like Pain, Konan, Kakuzu and Sasori are PRESENT and just... don't do anything about Deidara's antics? They just gave up at some point LMAO. And a while ago, I presume.

16-year-old Deidara, proud and puffed up as a lion: You can stay on the ground as boring old men you are, but I'm going to hang upside down today, hm!

Pain, the acting leader of this very serious and lethal organization that for some reason took in a 13-year-old and a 12-year-old because, I dunno, the real leader thought it would be funny, sighing: okay, Deidara...

I also don't believe that it was ever specified how Nagato's zoom jutsu works, but I think Akatsuki's members simply sit in whatever position they want and their projection is different from their actual position which means that. yeah. Deidara does a bat cosplay. because he wants to. baby why are you like that.

but I also like to imagine Deidara actually hanging on the ceiling during the meetup and the gang just going

Pain: Sasori, can't you grab a mop or something and swat him off of there?

Sasori, in the most dead inside voice imaginable: you are not paying me enough to do that. in fact, you would not last a minute in the asylum I'm living in. you can't give me 40 minutes of peace, can you?

honestly props to Onoki for finding a way to both continue using Deidara's skills for his goals (by just fucking paying Akatsuki and calling it a day) and keep the village intact, teenage Deidara just seems like the trial version of what Akatsuki members could expect on their missions. like, if you can't manage the stress of dealing with the (pony)tailed beast, you have no business trying to fight an actual tailed beast.

I'm also thinking that adult Deidara aka Shippuden Deidara would think himself really cringe for doing this shit when he was younger and feels kind of embarrassed in front of the other members (who unfortunately besides Hidan were there to witness his cringe bat phase of growing up in your local terrorist daycare organization), so he's pretty quiet during the zoom meetings when we get properly introduced to him.

That's, of course, until Deidara gets partnered with Tobi.

I can imagine the two of them competing who can last longer hanging upside down and now Pain really can't do anything to stop this bullshit because it's his actual boss and his clueless partner making their own bat nest during their zoom meeting. He just tiredly glances over at Konan who gives him a "I told you Yahiko was right and we shouldn't have joined forces with this guy, but when do you ever listen to me" look.

The gang would be discussing something like Kakuzu and Hidan brutally murdering Asuma (who's Obito's classmate btw and whose mother he already killed a while ago) and trying to steal his corpse to sell for some cash and in the background above them Tobi'll be yelling something like "senpai, watch what I can do" and start turning cartwheels on the ceiling.

tl;dr Obito and Deidara match each other's freak when it comes to doing weird shit for no apparent reason other than to fuck with everyone while on the job. thanks for coming to my TobiTalk

[robby-bobby-tommy]

I haven't played deltarune yet and only watched some let's plays, but Tenna makes me so unwell. The comment "divorce so bad tv got divorced" Convinced me to check it out lmao.

DELTARUNE CHAPTER 3 SPOILERS‼️‼️‼️

But that's not the point of the post. I just want to speculate on smt I just thought.

Why are Tenna and Spamton on such bad terms?

It might be obvious, but I want to share my view on their relationship. It's probably a common sense, but I don't think Tenna is so pissed off and hurt by Spamton just because he left him and didn't sign his contract.

Tenna is ofc pissed because of that, I'm not denying that, but the real reason, at least for me, is a little bit deeper.

As we all know, Tenna has a LOT of abandonment issues. It's seen through his dialogue with Kris and his desperate desire to be watched, to be seen and to have the audience. It is implied that he did hear a lot of Toriel and Asgore's fights multiple times, but he may be unaware of their divorce or at least he surely doesn't know about Asriel's departure to college. So from his perspective, Tenna was abandoned, plugged out because he became obsolete. He was ultimately abandoned. And we don't know when Tenna was turned off or when he was spending time with Spamton. So he probably lived with this pain for a long time.

Now, this is great and all, but what am I getting at? Well, let's take a look at how Tenna describes the scene of their last meeting (or at least I think it was)

"He suddenly had to take the phone call...But when he picked it up his face went pale... And je ran right out of the room with the receiver hanging!.. So I picked it up. ..... But there was nobody there!"

Tenna doesn't have any knowledge of this entity that was controlling/helping Spamton. So, for him, Spamton got scared of smt that Tenna didn't hear or know existed, and ran away without any explanation. Tenna might (and does!!!) consider this an abandonment. Spamton just left him behind. And THIS Is the main reason of why he's upset. Ofc that deal and the secret to being a big shot was important to him, but losing a friend was probably even worse. (Even though I enjoy a romantic reading of their relationship, I do want to say that it's not really important if it is or isn't one. They could be just really good friends, mb they were the only ones who truly understood each other even if it was purely platonic)

So, in short, despite having a very deep relationship, which is proved by Tenna keeping the pipis, Spamton abandoned his buddy and presumably left him with no explanation to never see him again. Ofc his buddy with abandonment issues and anxiety doesn't take it well and grows to resent Spamton a lot.

In Spamton's case, in turn, he might've never wanted to leave Tenna hanging like that, but his benefactor might've not left him a choice.

Spamton was genuinely terrified by what he heard and probably didn't mean for this scene to play out like this. Whatever was said on this call shook Spamton a lot and maybe this is the moment his "luck ran out". Correct me if I'm wrong, but this might be the begging of Spamton's downfall where he lost everything. Multiple terrible events back to back and loneliness caused him to have a mental break. I assume this is when his mental state went to sh_t. Spamton might've started to envy Tenna cuz from his perspective he's got everything he wanted. And plus continuous mentions of obsolescence of email didn't help I feel. Ofc, it's not like Spamton could explain to Tenna the identity of his benefactor and why he was afraid of him. This secret became the foundation for their friendship/relationship downfall imo.

TLDR: I think it's kind of Vi/Powder situation, where both didn't mean to hurt or abandon each other, but the lack of another person's perspective and secrets lead to the ultimate downfall of their relationship imo

They're just one big Asgore/Toriel allegory/j

[hyperactively-me]

Ok, humor me plz. Princess!reader finally gets fed up with shit and out of frustration slaps king!ghost in the face. The need to slap a bitch in this fic is increasing by the day lmao. I can imagine he like grabs her arm when she is walking away from him while he is talking to her and she reflexively just slaps him. On the inside she is like "aw fuck" but the outside she just has fire in her eyes.

wow oh wow, yeah, this would 100% happen. love to see it. love this, thank you, anon!

You were on your second to last day of travel. Tomorrow, you will reach Kastron and officially begin your new life. Lovely.

It was the evening, sun low in the sky. Pinks and oranges fall in between the cracks of the trees, casting golden shadows all around. Honestly, you loved the forest. 

You take one look back at the hustle and bustle of the servants setting up camp. When was the last time this whole journey you had a moment to yourself? Taking a breath, you turn and start exploring the forest around you. The leaves beneath your feet made a comforting, rhythmic crunching sound merging with the distant symphony of singing birds and the gentle rustling of leaves in the air. The air was filled with a soothing earthy aroma, a reminder of your garden's numerous plants and flowers. You couldn't help but notice how the sunlight filtered through the leaves above, creating intricate patterns of light and shadow on the forest floor.

You bask in the sunlight for a moment longer. The sun is starting to dip lower on the horizon, a chilly wind picking up, blowing your hair. Taking a long, deep breath in, you make your way back to camp. 

That’s when you catch a glint in the corner of your eye. Armor. Helmetless, yet a balaclava still covers his idiotic face. Not that you’ve seen it before. And there Ghost is.

He's standing in a clearing, practically marching toward you like a soldier heading into battle. The intensity of his anger is palpable, radiating off him like heat from a furnace. He strides forward purposefully, like a soldier going into battle, each step echoing with frustration and resentment. 

The sight stops you in your tracks, sending goosebumps up your arms. His demeanor is unwavering, his countenance a blend of rage and exasperation. It's as if his entire being is consumed by the storm of emotions brewing within him, and you can practically feel the crackling tension in the air.

Your heart begins to race as he gets closer, the sound of your own pulse pounding in your ears. You're split between the impulse to flee and the realization that running will only make matters worse. So you hold your ground, your breath seizing in your throat as he approaches.

As he comes to a stop just a few paces away, a charged silence hangs between you. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of fire and frustration. You can almost taste the words that are poised to spill from his lips, words that could either alleviate the tension or ignite an even more explosive reaction.

You search for words, for some explanation or apology that might defuse the impending confrontation, but your mind feels blank, all thoughts evaporated.

“What were you thinking?” he's seething.

“I—”

“What were you thinking?” 

His hands flex at his sides. 

Your mouth flounders, trying to find an explanation.

“What, you thought I ran off?” 

The words slip out before you can think twice, your own frustration rising to meet his anger. His eyes narrow, a mixture of surprise and something else you can't quite decipher flickering across his face. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife, and you're both caught in a standoff, emotions swirling like a whirlpool between you.

“Something could’ve happened—”

“Nothing happened!”

“You could’ve been hurt. Or lost. Or kidnapped. Or killed.” 

You scoff, throwing your hands up in the air animatedly. 

“Yeah, you only care about your little fiance running off because you can’t control her every move, her every—”

“No, that’s not—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, your majesty, did I step out of line? 

“Stop.”

“Oh, please, forgive me, your majesty, I forgot that I’m supposed to be the perfect little wife—”

“Enough.” His voice is sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

The forest seems to bear witness to this clash, the rustling leaves and the evening sounds seeming to echo the turmoil of your exchange. He takes a step closer, his frustration still evident but tempered by something else. His chest rises and falls with his breaths, his gaze locked onto yours. 

You wait for him to say something. When he doesn’t, you scoff, not even bothering to look at him as you push past him, knocking your shoulder on his chestplate. Immediately upon passing him, he seizes your wrist to halt your movement, his grip iron-tight, whipping you around to face him. In response, before you can even think about what you’re doing, your hand instinctively meets his cheek with a forceful slap, right across Ghost’s face. 

The sound of the slap is followed by a stunned silence. He doesn’t let go of your wrist, but his eyes widen in shock. His free hand comes up to touch his cheek where the sting of the slap lingers. You’re breathing hard, trying to yank your wrist out of his grip. Suddenly he drops your wrist, watching you stumble back from the force, giving you space.

His expression is a mix of offense and regret. He rolls out his jaw, tugs his balaclava more securely on his face, hands flexing at his sides. The last of the days sunlight filters through the trees, casting a gentle glow over his armor. For a moment, you don’t regret it. Hell, he’s been nothing short of overbearing and a nuisance since you met. But, for some reason, a small part of you feels bad. Maybe his anger had its roots in concern, but the way he expressed it had only fueled your own frustration. 

“I’m tired of feeling like my every move has to be scrutinized,” you admit, your voice carrying a touch of weariness. “I can take care of myself.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re gonna have to prove that to me, sweetheart.”

“I’ve got plenty of time,” you say quietly.

He sidesteps you, a range of emotions flickering across his face. 

“Don’t run off like that again,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’ hell.” 

You nod slowly, wringing your hands. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Go,” he commands, hand resting on his hilt. 

You look up at him, his foot tapping, waiting for you to go. With that, you turn on your heel and make your back up to camp. He follows on a few feet behind you, his shadow cast over you as you head back.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[worldstarz]

saving kaeya after his fight with diluc

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

pairing: kaeya alberich x fem!knight!reader

summary: after his fight with diluc, kaeya is thrown out of the manor to fend for himself. stumbling, bleeding, and on the verge of death, he finds you.

tags: hurt + comfort ; some angst ; mutual (?) feelings ; tbh could also be seen as platonic ; pre-storyline ; not proofread ; prolly ooc i’m so sorry

cw: blood ; injuries ; mentions of violence

notes: going through my notes app that is filled to the BRIM with oc x canon pairings. i haven’t played genshin in over a year (and this blurb was originally written like two years ago lmao) but i still love my flirty slutty cryo man! anyways i altered it so it’s reader x kaeya and removed some oc stuff, but idk how to fit in an explanation on why you’re in the forest… let your imagination run wild!!!

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

kaeya stumbled out of the winery, hand trembling over his bleeding eye.

'it's fine... everything will be fine.' thoughts raced through his head. his whole entire body was throbbing in pain. it’s not like he could go back inside the winery to rest—not after a fight as nasty as that.

"diluc will be running over to some maid any second now. ha, lucky bastard," kaeya muttered.

diluc had a team of servants that he could go to. kaeya only had diluc, emphasis on had.

at the dead of night, there was no way he could get care at the cathedral. he couldn't hold in a chuckle, realizing the situation he was in. he had no one, huh? though popular, kaeya didn’t have any particularly close friends who he could spend the night with.

with that, he knew he had no choice but to pitifully limp to the favonius headquarters—a long, long walk away.

he barely made it into the forest before he fell to the ground, wheezing against a tree. his ears were ringing, but he could hear footsteps cautiously approaching him. he didn't even have the energy to lift his head.

"kaeya? what the hell are you doing out here this late?" whose voice was that...? was it an angel’s? oh, wait. angels wouldn’t swear. it was your voice.

in the state he was in, he could only muster a grunt in response. you kneeled down in front of him, and gasped at the sight of his collapsed body. "just what have you gotten yourself into this time?" you muttered. "can't stand up anymore, huh?"

you tilted his chin up, and both of you wince—him as a result of pain, you due to getting a clear view of his injuries. his blue hair, usually tied into a low ponytail, cascaded down his shoulders, caked in blood. his crimson-soaked chest rose and fell rapidly. "ooh, that is nasty. come on, lean on me. we're going to headquarters." you kneeled down to wrap your arm around his torso, gingerly lifting him up.

"well, would you look at that. that’s exactly where i was heading,” he chuckled, leaning against your body. typically, he would never accept support from another. but, with this arguably being the lowest point of his life, his pride was the least of his concerns. plus, you were just so undeniably warm. if he’s on the verge of death, then maybe being by your side wouldn’t be so bad for a final memory.

you don’t respond, your pace slower from his weight and for his comfort. silence follows. you obviously had a million questions for him—what the hell happened? did he get in a fight with an abyss mage? why was he out so late?—but you could tell he was beyond exhausted, and from the sight of his gushing wounds, getting answers was far from a priority.

the two of you arrived in the city, streets barren in the pitch black of night. the tavern was closed, so, thankfully, no drunkards were hanging about near the path.

the inside of the headquarters was equally empty. the soft glow of lanterns lit the way up the stairs to the barracks. "kaeya, where is your room?" you asked, your voiced barely above a whisper as to not wake the other knights.

"all the way at the end of the hall. but... i forgot my keys," he whispered. you could tell he was smirking.

"how sly of you. if i didn't know any better, i would've thought this was another trick of yours to be close to a lady," you responded, though there wasn’t a hint of accusation in your voice.

"ha, you know me so well."

"to my room we go." you walked further up the steps.

after a moment of silence, you mumbled, "i know you're not the type of person to sneak into a lady's room."

"i'm grateful you understand me so well."

"zip it. i don't even know your favorite color."

unlocking your door, you gently set kaeya down on your bed. you immediately get to work, removing his coat and shoes. usually, his slick tongue would say something suggestive, but tonight, he had no choice but to refrain.

even with your limited knowledge of first aid, you knew just a damp rag would do nothing to help. "i have no tools with me," you say, beginning to walk away. "i'll go grab so-"

kaeya suddenly grabbed your arm, effectively stopping both you and your sentence. he looked so... pained. "please don't go,” he whispered. you never could have expected this level of venerability from him.

"...kaeya?" you whispered, turning to face him. "i have to find a way to tend to your injuries. you're in pain, aren't you?"

his hand slacked.

after coming back with medical supplies, the two of you were silent as you tended to his wounds. he gazed at the ceiling, the silence occasionally broken by you asking for permission for actions such as unbuttoning his shirt. you don’t comment on the new cryo vision in his pocket.

deep gashes littered his body, most notably a diagonal one across his chest. as you applied pressure against the gaping wound in an effort to stanch the bleeding, kaeya couldn’t help but hiss in pain. “sorry, sorry, i’m trying to be gentle,” you whispered hurried apologies, using one hand to continue applying pressure and the other to hold his hand.

his grip tightened, and the poor boy whispered, “i know, i trust you. or, well, i’m trying to.”

all you could do regarding his eye was wrap it in bandages to get it checked out in the morning. the basic first aid lessons you were required to take to become a knight did not cover an injury like that.

once you finished, you sat on the floor, leaning against the bed frame. he was still holding onto your hand.

"what happened?" you asked softly.

"..."

"was it an ambush?"

"..."

"i'll report it in the mor-"

"don't. please, don't," he whispered. “i swear i’ll explain everything to you one day.”

you grimaced. "fine. just... promise not to do anything stupid like that again, alright? i was worried."

kaeya didn't respond, going over your words in his head. you were worried? you didn't seem worried. but... you were worried. why would you so willingly take care of him like this? how would you react if you knew who he really was? would you still be worried?

he couldn't hold back his tears and restrained sobs. you lifted your head in surprise, leaning in closer to scan his expression.

"...kaeya?"

"my apologies," he tried to smile, covering his face with his free arm in embarrassment. no one has seen him like this before, and it was far too foreign for him. "especially when you let me use your room."

in response, you squeezed his hand, whispering, “it’s fine. i don’t think of you any differently.”

how do you always know exactly what to say? to grant him at least a little bit of privacy, you turn away as he quietly sobbed into his forearm.

after a while, he sniffles, saying, “i apologize. i don’t know what came over me.” trying to get some humor out of the situation, he adds, “well, i guess we are bonded for eternity now, aren’t we?”

you turned your head to face him, the furrow of your brows causing him to chuckle. “archons, you’re going to be the death of me,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“seeing how you saved me from death, that wouldn’t be fair, would it?” his foxy grin made you let out yet another exasperated sigh, but you still couldn’t help but smile slightly. it was obvious he was trying to act tough for you, but for now, you would follow along with his fantasy.

“alright, whatever. get some sleep.”

“and what about your sleeping arrangements?”

“i’ll manage. i’ve slept on the forest floor for missions, i can handle a hardwood floor.”

“oh? i couldn’t possibly let my savior sleep in such horrible conditions,” he teased. “won’t you join me in bed?”

“barbatos, give me strength,” you muttered.

he laughs softly, and you can feel your stomach tighten at the sound. even during such a rough moment, kaeya can still manage to put up a charming appearance. his single eye twinkled in the low dim of the candlelight, and you realized your falling for his sly tricks. “please, [name], won’t you grant a poor, injured man his dying wish?”

with a groan, you let go of his hand and climb into the bed beside him, careful not to touch him to avoid any unnecessary pain.

“i knew you were a saint!” he gives you a triumphant smile as you lay on your side to look at him. his tanned skin, though scratched, still was as enchanting as ever in the moonlight. the deep blue of his eye pulled you in deeper, and once again, you realized you were a victim of his charm. but, this was different—though he would never admit it, with your tender care of his wounds and unwavering support, he has unknowingly fell victim to your charm, too. his hand seeks out yours once again, intertwining your fingers.

neither of you commented on the continuation of the hand-holding, nor would you ever.

only then, as you two shared the cramped bed space, does kaeya come to a realization—he had you.

his grip on your hand tightened.

he has you.

[lagunaseca2013]

how does pecco tell his parents that he's pregnant in the teen pregnancy au? how awkward is the eventual valentino safe sex talk for both luca and pecco? Do they eventually have another kid way later in life luca unintentionally having kids that have the same age gap as him and valentino?

hi anon! this ask honestly got me to open a google doc for this thing which is more than I can say for half the wips I’ve talked about here lmao. as always things kind of got away from me so I hope I’ve answered your questions but tbh I feverishly wrote half of this in the actual tumblr app bc I was so inspired so. apologies if it’s not that good! but cheers <3

—

“Pecco?” Carola picks up on the fourth ring of his ninth attempted call. She sounds groggy and confused, like she’s just woken up, probably because— “It’s four AM,” she groans, “you just woke me up. What’s wrong?”

Pecco swallows against the lump in his throat, the words getting stuck in his mouth. He can’t think of a single thing to say, though he’d spent the entire five-hour drive to Turin agonizing about it. In his defense, he couldn’t really do his best thinking when he kept having to pull over to throw up. Most of the time he wasn’t dry heaving on the side of the road, he’d spent going 200kph and trying not to have a panic attack.

He’s breathing heavily, trying desperately not to burst into tears again. Pecco knows if he’s silent for much longer, Carola will either hang up or call the firing squad, the best big sister ever, even if his skin is crawling, just thinking about facing her right now. In his. . . .state.

“I’m outside,” he croaks, finally, his voice sore from disuse and crying and, god, so much throwing up. “But I forgot to bring my keys.”

Carola is silent for a moment, but he can hear her taking slow, steady breaths through the crackle of the line. “Stay there, I have to turn off the alarm for the gate.”

—

His mama nearly has an aneurysm when he slinks down the stairs, late in the morning. He’d slept tucked into the corner between Carola’s bed and the wall like he hadn’t since—well, probably before he moved to Pesaro. Or hit puberty, whichever came first. After his sister had tugged the explanation out of him, she’d refused to let him go to sleep alone. They'd huddled together under her soft floral sheets and she’d pressed a curious hand to the slight swell of his belly that he couldn’t even really look at without getting nauseous, an expression of wonder on her face that he hadn’t yet encountered from anyone who knew about the—

“Francesco!” His mama interrupts his downward spiral, pressing two warm hands against his cheeks. “Is that Valentino not feeding you properly? You have to come sit down and eat, eat piccolo! You’ve gotten too thin!”

For once, his stomach doesn’t rebel at the plate of brioche, and his mom happily flits around the kitchen tidying up in the way she does when she’s trying to figure out how to approach a conversation. She frowns when he pushes away the espresso she’d left for him, and asks for warm milk, but carefully hasn’t asked him what the hell he’s doing here, why he hadn’t told them he was coming home. Why he’d shown up in the middle of the night and couldn’t bring himself to face her. Since he was little, Pecco has always been. . . .different, when it came to emotional matters, and his mama had learned long ago to let him come to her when he was ready.

Pecco doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready for the conversation they’re about to have. In fact, he barely gets down half a slice of bread before he’s running to the bathroom, hacking it all back up, the thing inside him rejecting it all anyway. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until his mama pulls him in, rubbing soothing circles into his back and reaching up to brush tears off his cheek. “Oh, bambino,” she sighs, heavy with concern. “What’s going on?”

—

He’d insisted on waiting for his papa and Carola to return, mostly because he was pretty sure he was only going to be able to handle the conversation once, and he really needed his sister’s support to even attempt it. His mama had fussed over him for the rest of the day, forcing him back into bed with bowls of broth he’d thankfully been able to keep down. She’d even taken his temperature, humming thoughtfully when it was perfectly normal, though Pecco thought, uncomfortably, that they both sort-of knew he wasn’t that kind of sick.

Unfortunately, crushing Carola’s hands like a lifeline and staring back at his deeply concerned parents, it feels even worse than he’d imagined.

His papa is the first to break the silence. “Francesco,” he says, slowly, like he’s afraid Pecco might bolt if he’s too loud. “What’s wrong, piccolo?”

Pecco swallows hard, his fingers trembling where they grip Carola’s. He feels like a child again, sitting at this very table, confessing to crashing his scooter into the neighbor’s mailbox when he was fifteen. But this is so, so much worse.

“I—” He chokes on the word, his throat tight. His mama’s face is open, patient but worried, while his papa frowns, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Carola wriggles one of her hands out of his deathgrip to pet the curls at his nape reassuringly.

“I’m pregnant,” he finally blurts out.

They all freeze for a moment, pure disbelief. His mama’s breath catches audibly, her eyes widening in shock. His papa blinks at him like he’s misheard.

The silence stretches unbearably. Pecco’s heart is hammering so hard he thinks he might actually pass out. There's a high possibility he's going to throw up again.

“Scusa?” His papa’s voice is strangled.

Pecco licks his lips, his mouth dry. “I’m pregnant.” His voice wavers slightly, but the words come out clearer this time. “I found out a few weeks ago.”

His mama makes a soft noise, pressing a hand to her mouth, her eyes shining with something unreadable. “Oh, Francesco. . . .”

His papa, on the other hand, looks confused and concerned. “But—how? That’s not possible, that’s not—you were tested, at birth, they said—you were not. . . .” He gestures vaguely, like he’s searching for an explanation in the air.

Pecco shrugs weakly. “Turns out I am.”

Silence again, Pecco's shoulders are tensed up nearly to his ears. Carola's free hand grips the back of his neck firmly, like she thinks he'll try to make a run for it.

Then, suddenly, his mama’s chair scrapes against the floor as she stands. For a split second, Pecco braces himself for yelling, but instead she kneels down, pulling him into her arms. “Oh, bambino mio,” she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. “You must have been so scared.”

As soon as she says it, Pecco finally shatters. He crumples into her, sobs tearing from his chest, months of anxiety and fear draining out of him all at once. His mama holds him tightly, rubbing soothing circles against his back, whispering soft reassurances into his hair.

Carola reaches over, rubbing his shoulder, and even his papa, still looking completely out of his depth, awkwardly places a hand on his back.

“It’s going to be okay bambino,” his mama says firmly, pulling back just enough to cup his face. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Pecco sniffles, his breath hitching. He’s exhausted, terrified, still fucking nauseous, but for the first time in weeks the knot in his chest loosens, just a little.

—

It’s terribly hard to focus on what Valentino is saying when Luca looks this good, Pecco realizes with dawning horror, the third time he zones out of the lecture, staring at Luca’s hands. His long fingers are folded neatly in his lap, the perfect picture of proper and respectful, if Pecco couldn't see that he was still sporting a semi under the table.

In their defense, Valentino had walked into the apartment unannounced in the syrupy hour after lunch, but before Pecco’s third daily nap, when he had the best chance of seducing Luca into messing around on the couch. He’d then decided, seven and a half months into the unplanned pregnancy, that catching his brother with his hand up Pecco’s stretched out tshirt was cause for the safe sex talk he’d been “meaning to get around to” for the last five years.

Valentino, completely oblivious—or maybe just choosing to ignore the heavy tension radiating between them—leans forward, elbows on his knees, and clasps his hands together like he’s about to deliver the most important race strategy briefing of his entire life. Pecco wonders, idly, if this is what he looks like when Uccio shows him “telemetry” on his iPad.

“Look, I get it,” he says, nodding sagely. “You’re young, you’re in love, you’re horny—”

Pecco makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Luca chokes on his own spit.

Valentino waves them off and keeps going. “But you clearly haven’t been careful enough, considering. . . .” he gestures vaguely at Pecco’s belly, which is currently both peeking humiliatingly out the bottom of his tshirt and pressing up against the edge of the table.

Pecco glares. He knows he's gotten huge recently, and he's been feeling particularly sensitive about it. “Wow, grazie, Vale. Really, I hadn't noticed.”

Luca, to his credit, looks genuinely sheepish. “It’s not like we didn’t try to be careful,” he mumbles, scratching at the back of his neck. “We didn't know Pecco was a carrier.” Pecco feels his face heat up at the reminder.

Valentino levels them both with a sharp look. “Clearly, you didn’t try hard enough. Even if Pecco hadn't been a carrier, it is still the safest to use a condom!”

Luca groans, tipping his head back against the couch. “Mio Dio, if this is your way of giving us the condom talk, you’re about seven months too late.”

Valentino ignores him, finally in the rhythm of his tirade. It's an interesting look on him, considering it's usually Uccio who attempts any kind of lecturing about the behavior of the Academy. “You know, there are many ways to be safe. Barriers, timing, communication—”

Pecco shoots Luca a sidelong glance. Luca, who is still, inexplicably, half-hard in his boxers. Luca, who just an hour ago had been shoving his tongue down Pecco's throat against the couch cushions, murmuring things that had absolutely not been about barriers or communication. Things much more aligned with how they'd ended up here in the first place.

Pecco swallows hard. This is kind of his second worst-nightmare, just below getting knocked up mid-season on the list. He hasn't even let himself think about how Valentino said they were, jesus, in love, and neither of them even protested it. Pecco has been in love with Luca for as long as he can remember, but he's always known Luca just saw him as a friend. Luca, of course, is just having sex with him out of convenience.

Meanwhile, Valentino is on a roll. “And don’t think that just because you’re already—” another vague hand-waving gesture at Pecco’s belly. It's kind of amazing that they're this far along, and he's in his thirties, and can't bring himself to say it. “—That you shouldn’t still be careful. Pregnancy hormones can make you want to go at it like rabbits, but you need to be mindful of—”

Pecco shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and his gigantic belly jostles the table enough to knock over the sad vase of dead flowers he'd gotten Luca for Father's Day. He's spent approximately ten minutes in one position, so his back aches enough to make him want to scream. “I am not listening to this anymore.”

Valentino raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “You think I wanted to be here?” He throws his hands up dramatically. “You think I enjoy this? But I’m responsible for both of you!”

“Vale,” Luca interrupts, desperate. “We get it. Be careful, use protection, don’t fuck up again. Lesson learned. Can we please never talk about this again?”

He squints at them for a long moment, weighing his options, then sighs, rubbing his temples. “Fine. But if I find out you’ve been reckless again,” he points an accusatory finger between them.

Luca glares. “What, you’ll ground us?” He gestures at Pecco's belly. “Bit late for that.”

Valentino pinches the bridge of his nose. “I am just trying to make sure you know how to have safe sex,” he sighs. “I don't want either of you to have to sacrifice more than you already have because of another—” he stops himself, just in time, but Pecco knows he was going to say, what he was going to call their baby. A mistake. He sees it reflected back in his eyes, in everyone’s eyes, lately. His skin crawls every time he visits the ranch, seeing Mig and Franky’s looks of pity. Nicolo’s barely-hidden derision. Bez hasn’t been able to look him in the eyes since he started showing for real, months ago.

The second Valentino finally leaves, after he gives them the dish of food from Stefania that he had come to deliver in the first place, an excruciating round of hugs, and a parting shot about prenatal vitamins, somehow managing to keep his set of keys in the rush to kick him out—Pecco lets his head thunk onto Luca's shoulder with a dramatic groan.

“I will never forgive you for giving him a key. We aren't having sex again until you get it back from him!”

Luca snorts, reaching over to place a warm palm over the silver of belly not covered by the tshirt. “You say that now, tesoro.”

Pecco lifts his head up, raising an eyebrow.

Luca smirks. “Where were we?”

[riddle-me-ri]

a/n: random little short one shot inspired by the fact three people I've spoken to irl had hickeys on their neck…and it just got me thinking and I know without a shadow of a doubt, Secret Six Jervis would give you hickeys shamlessly lol god a I feel like I've used this title before but can't remember what it was for the life of me so if ive used it twice...Oops? lmao

Content Warning: suggestive material (making out, hickeys)

Word Count: 790

Secret Six Mad Hatter x Reader - Love Bites

There was no doubt they were glaring at you as they walked past.

You thought you had gotten used to their stares, especially when your relationship with “the weirdo” of the group was made public.

The team didn't hold back from their quirked eyebrows, rolled eyes, or scoffs of disgust.

Quite frankly, you didn't give two shits what they thought. Jervis was wrapped around your finger, and you would dive head first into a rabbit hole for him.

You had never felt more loved and appreciated as genuinely as you have with Jervis. He made you feel special, like you belonged to someone.

You didn't pay any mind to whatever physical means the Hatter may have gone to prove his claim of you.

You tried to wrack your brain over what the other team members could possibly be staring at you for this time…especially since you and Jervis weren't even doing anything out in the open that would spark their glare at you…

At least…you weren't doing anything.

Jervis did seem overly pleased with himself. He stole quick glances at you and snickered softly to himself.

Okay, what the hell?

You leaned down and to the side where your lips were centimeters from Jervis' ear.

“What’s so amusing, Jervis?”

He snickered some more before answering. “My dear, you really don't know?”

You shook your head. “No and an explanation would be very much appreciated…is it the same reason why K keeps looking at me in disgust?”

At the mention of the former female fury warrior, Jervis scoffed. “Pay no mind to that humongous hussy, she has no right to judge…what with those nasty noises we hear from her and her partner’s room late into the night..”

You nodded. He did have a point, but that still didn't answer your inquiry.

Jervis could still see your eyebrows scrunched up in uncertainty.

He sighed. “They're looking at your neck, darling.” He snickered and kicked his hanging feet in glee. “They see my, erm, not so little, love bites I gave you last night.”

Your eyes shifted slightly as you tried to mentally recall the previous night's events.

The moment you two went to bed, it didn't take long for Jervis to pounce. Instantly grabbing and pulling your body closer to his, to have as much as his skin to touch your own.

The kisses, which started sweet and slow, soon turned into something far less innocent. Whenever Jervis wasn't making his tongue at home in your mouth, he used his signature overbite buck teeth.

He loved nibbling and marking your skin. It meant you were real, someone who was tangible and by the next morning would still be there with his marks and not just some delicious delusion his hat conjured for him.

Not only was it evidence of his clear love and desire, but it also showed the rest of the world you were his and his only, therefore entirely off limits.

Which is what he made quite clear this morning as the other members give you weird glances of disgust and disapproval this morning.

Your face slowly began burning red at the realization that you indeed have been spotted clear as day with your neck riddled with hickeys.

Meanwhile the milliner responsible couldn't be more pleased with his work. Your decorated neck may as well have been one of his handmade hats he was so proud of.

“You seem awfully proud of yourself, Jervis…” You mumbled, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you glanced down at the man.

Jervis took a sip of his tea with a hum. “Oh, I am, I am. Absolutely delighted even, my dear!”

The embarrassment began to wither when you took in the full glee on Jervis’ face. Happiness was few, far, and in between for him, this you knew all too well, and it made you happy to see him happy.

“You do realize this means I have to get you back tonight, right?” You leaned down again to bring your head near his.

“Leave little love bites of my own…” You whispered before giving a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Jervis nearly dropped his teacup before quickly pushing his chair back and jumping down off of it.

“Why wait? We have no mission today, even if we did, it doesn't matter! Please have your fun with me, and bite my skin like a cheese platter!”

Before you knew it, he was already scurrying off back to the room you two shared.

You rubbed your face with your hands before chuckling to yourself. Just how did you end up with such a whimsical endearing man…

Well, it's best not to keep him waiting…

[otakusheep15]

OMG FRUITS BASJET?!

Could you do a kyo x male reader?

I have had the fattest crush on him since elementary school LMAO

Anyways could it be like reader never knew kyo could turn into a cat, so when he sees kyo turn into a cat and just instantly feels his heartstrings tug. He starts cuddling with kyo's cat from till he turns back into his human form, but reader didn't know he becomes naked when he turns back so he starts freaking out about it lol.

I'm sorry if I butcher this shit up and if my English is bad and you don't understand my point. English is my first language but I get very nervous with sending in request so I feel like I butcher shit up lol.

Hi! I am so sorry for how long it took me to answer this!! I'll make it extra long just to make up for it. Thanks for being patient! ^^

Kyo Sohma x Male Reader

Okay, so, I actually love the thought of queer relationships between the zodiac. It's always been very cute to me, plus it would save them from turning into an animal when they want affection.

Also, for these headcanons, let's just say that trans men/transmascs don't have any effect so that it stays inclusive! (I know Fruits Basket isn't the most trans-inclusive, but we're ignoring that)

Anyway, this would most likely take place before you two start dating. I doubt he'd be the type to commit to a relationship before revealing this part of himself. He's not good at this sort of thing.

So, right now, y'all are just friends. Most likely, you met at school. You're in the same class, or you met through one of his cousins/Tohru.

At first, he avoided you. It had nothing to do with you in particular - he just hates being social. Eventually, you do manage to interact with him, and he decides you're chill enough to be around. So you two become friends.

One day, you, Kyo, Tohru, and Yuki are hanging out outside of school. This is the first time you've hung out with them outside of school, so this is new territory for you. Specifically, the four of you went to the library to study for an upcoming test.

You sat in a back corner, away from everyone else. Tohru had gotten up to go grab a book, but she tripped over the leg of the chair. Kyo was sitting next to her, and he's the one she falls into. Suddenly, there's a puff of smoke, and when it clears, you see Tohru holding an orange cat, and Kyo is nowhere to be seen.

Tohru and Yuki look panicked, and you're confused. The two of them scramble to come up with some kind of explanation, but all you can think about is how adorable the cat is. You assume it's Kyo, although you couldn't explain what happened.

Tohru had put Kyo down by this point, and he walks across the table to get to you. His eyes have the same deadpan look they usually do, which is funnier in his cat form. Sensing no hostility from you, Yuki and Tohru are able to calm down a little bit, and Yuki is able to get a proper explanation out. You process only some of his words, too focused on how cute Kyo looks.

Without much thought, you scoop him up in your arms, gently holding him close. Kyo makes a startled noise, but doesn't struggle too much. Yuki looks amused as he ushers Tohru away, intent on giving you two some alone time.

Kyo asks you what you think you're doing, and you're shocked he can still speak in this form. You shyly explain that you just thought he looked cute, and your body kind of just moved on its own. You go to put him down, but he doesn't budge from your arms. It's barely audible, but you swear you heard him say something about him enjoying the embrace. You chuckle at that as you hold him tighter. If you listen closely, you can almost hear him purring softly.

Then, another puff of smoke appears. When it dissipates, you see Kyo standing in front of you, back to his regular human form. Except for the fact that he's completely naked. You turn away, flustered that you saw him in such a state. Kyo also turns around, tripping over himself as he looks for his clothes. Neither of you speak a word, and it's around this time that Yuki and Tohru make their return.

Yuki still looks amused by the situation, choosing to tease Kyo. Tohru is immediately flustered, still not used to seeing the boys after they transform back. As the boys continue fighting, Tohru comes up to you, asking if you're okay. She knows from personal experience that this kind of situation can be startling, so she wants to make sure that you're feeling alright. When you respond in the affirmative, she smiles.

Kyo and Yuki stop bickering, and Kyo is fully dressed once again. He can't quite make eye contact with you, but he does apologize for what happened, if in his own tsundere way. You laugh a bit, explaining that you're fine, just a bit shocked at what just happened. The three nod, as they can all understand how you feel.

By this point, none of you are in the mood for studying anymore, so you decide to pack up for the night. As you walk out of the library, you turn away from them, as your home is in the opposite direction of where they live. However, you feel something grab your hand, and when you turn to look, you see Kyo. He's still not making eye contact, and his face is a little red, but his grip on your hand is strong.

Quietly, he asks if he can walk you home. You're shocked, and you can hear Tohru cheering in the background as Yuki tries to silence her. After a moment to recover from the shock, you smile and him and squeeze his hand, accepting his offer. He makes eye contact with you for the first time since the incident, and you can see a small smile appear on his face. He tells the others that he'll meet them at home, and you're on the way to your house.

As you walk, Kyo explains everything in as much detail as he can. He leaves out all of his family drama, as that's a story for another day, but he does bring up his curse and how it works. You jokingly remark that he wouldn't transform with you, since you're both boys, and he laughs a bit at that. He gestures to your hands, still interlocked, and states that even holding hands with a girl would cause him to transform. That makes you laugh as well.

Soon you're back home, and he drops you off at your door. He squeezes your hand one last time before letting it go, and he asks if you'd like to hang out again, to which your agree. You do make one more sly comment about wanting to see him as a cat again, telling him that he looked oh so adorable. He groans, but it's all in good humor. He leaves, already thinking of plans for next time.

The two of you don't start dating right away. It takes more time, but this is the first major step. Also, he's willing to be more affectionate with you because he knows he won't transform. It's nothing more than hand-holding on leaning against you for right now, but when you do start dating, he gets very clingy, especially in public.

You don't get to see him transform that often since you don't cause any of his transformations, but when you do get to see it, it's always a treat. He gets so flustered when he transforms, and it worsens when he transforms back to human. You've gotten used to the nakedness after the first few times, but he never quite does, especially when you're around. It's cute.

[boykingscourt]

Ooh! Who is who in your Lost Boys au & what are the best protectiveness parts?

ok so lost boys au that lives in my brain. this might be long for no reason so I apologize for that. two things to keep in mind:

idk if you've seen the lost boys before, but don't try to think of the characters as a 1:1 ratio, not in their relationships to each other nor their personalities. some of this will make more sense given their relationships in the movie and some of it will not

vampires-only universe. and the winchesters are just normal people with no prior knowledge of them

so most importantly dean is michael (older brother who falls in with the vampire gang and is unknowingly turned) and sam is... well sam! it makes almost too much sense given michael also calls his little brother sammy

dean is early 20s and sam is late teens

in this, john is lucy. lucy is technically divorced in the movie, but we can just keep it canon and have john be a widower (sorry, mary). certainly a version where mary is alive and john is dead can exist, but it's not this one

okay so this next part is kind of embarrassing. I know the lost boys is about well the lost boys, the gang of four vampire boys, but I really only have the most important member planned out.

benny is david, the leader. it makes sense given his relationship with dean in canon. can be homoerotic if you prefer. I can't find any photos of ty olsson around the age I'd want him to be here, but you can imagine him as dean's age (at least at the moment he was turned)

cassie robinson is star, who in the movie is david's (unwilling) girlfriend and is herself a fledgling vampire. if you want dean and cassie to be together the way michael and star were, then that's fine too! cassie is gorgeous; star is gorgeous, and both are brave. makes sense to me

btw I don't care about that little kid who hangs around star in the movie, so we're not gonna care about him here

my favorite role to fill was the frog brothers, two teens who work at a comic book store, befriend (movie) sam, and try to warn him about the existence of vampires. making them charlie and garth seemed like a no-brainer. they can still call themselves the frog brothers (even though charlie called the men of letters' name sexist, being a frog brother is just much cooler and I think she'd like it). they don't have to be literal siblings. sam, charlie, and garth will work to cure dean of his vampirism by attempting to locate and kill the head vampire

oh the grandpa is going to be bobby, a family friend john and the boys move in with for the time being. I don't think this needs further explanation

okay so now max, the head vampire

I want him to be rowena. now HEAR ME OUT

I love rowena and of course I don't see her as a villain by the end of spn but damn it let me have fun!! let her seduce john with the motive of turning him and his boys into vampires so they can all be one big happy vampire family. let sam, charlie, and garth try to prove she's a vampire in front of john and have that hilarious and iconic dinner scene from the movie ensue

because vampire mother is much cooler than a dorky vampire dad, yeah?

so now the best instances of michael protecting sam in the movie that I can then use for dean and sam? while it's true michael is not as outwardly protective of (movie) sam as dean is of (spn) sam, it is clear he cares for sam a lot and is not letting any vampire near him (including himself)

there's another iconic scene where sam is in the bathtub and michael nearly feeds on him, only to be mauled by the family dog lmao. so dean can indeed nearly feed on sam and get mauled by the family dog, sam's dog, bones in this case!

bones is a very good boy

when the vampires make their final attack on the winchester brothers, cassie, and the frog brothers, (who are all at bobby's house while both bobby and john are away) bones will run out into the yard, leaving sam to run after bones and dean to run after sam, shouting at him the entire time. bones will be fine!

there was also a part earlier in the movie where sam and the frog brothers sneak into the vampires' lair to kill them. this is where that gifset came from. michael (dean) is weak from the sunlight and nowhere near as powerful as david (benny) and his gang, warning sam (sam lol) that he can't protect him down there, to which sam replies that he has to protect dean this time

if you are still having a hard time seeing the vision, please imagine these two scenes as sam, dean, john, and rowena and then sam, dean, and cassie, respectively

and there you have it! lost boys au that lives in my head. ending and in fact the majority of the plot is up to you

if you know anything about the movie and want more specifics, and if I've thought of those specifics, ask away again!

[keirawantstocry]

If you're up for prompts I have a quick little idea.

Fit and/or pac realizing they like tubbo, or tubbo realizing he likes fit and pac. I just crave poly morning crew tbh..

I have never tried the poly from anyon other then tubbo’s pov so for you beloved mutual i will try 

also it got away from me a little i didnt expect it to be this long LMAO

Fit knew he liked Pac. To be honest it took a really long time to come to terms with it but he knew. He knew he loved how strong the other man was, how capable yet kind. That damn smile that spread across his face like the sun rising across the horizon on an early morning. So yes it took a lot of getting used to, there was a lot to get over, a lot of fear left over from 2b2t, but he knew. He knew how he felt about his son. He loved his son and would die for him. It had taken him a while to warm up to him, attachments were hardwired in him to be a danger sign of weakness. He knew how he felt about nearly every single person on the island. What he wasn’t sure about was how he felt about Tubbo. 

Every moment they spent together was fun, whether that be something chill like hanging out or something absolutely batshit like running full force at mobs to get into fights for no reason. Tubbo had energy. Infectious energy. During their time together, Fit felt that energy seep into his own body until he was just as energized. It was infectious and made him happy in a way that made him mad. He was frustratingly aware that his emotions about it didn’t make any sense. Finally after an incident where his frustration got the best of him and he nearly snapped at Tubbo, he caved and went to Phil. 

“Hey Phil?” he called out as soon as he landed beside the waypoint. 

There was Phil, kneeling in the soft dirt planting another flower that Tallulah had probably given to him. “What’s up mate?” 

Fit plopped beside him heavily. “I’ve been… feeling a lot lately.” 

“About Pac?” Phil asked with a laugh, his eyes twinkling with mirth. 

“No. About Tubbo actually.” 

“Oh?” Phil asked, his eyebrows going up in surprise. He laid down his equipment, abandoning the flower for the time being to focus his attention on Fit. “What do you mean?” 

“I’ve… been getting really frustrated lately? Not mad at him, just frustrated when he’s around? I feel like,” Fit tried to desperately rack his brain for an explanation. “He gets under my skin. That grin he does to Sunny when he first sees her. That laugh he does that turns into a wheeze as he struggles to breathe? It makes my chest hurt. I don’t. I just don’t fucking get it. I love him. Why am I so bothered by little things?” 

Phil took a long moment to consider it while he brushed off his dirty hands on his pants. “Fit, can I be completely honest with you right now?” 

“Of course.” 

“Have you considered that he’s not getting under your skin in an upsetting way but that that’s the only way you know how to react?” 

Fit blinked at him. “What do you mean?” 

Phil sighed. “There’s different definitions of getting under your skin. They aren’t all negative.” 

“I mean,” Fit laughed. “What else could it be?” 

Fit felt like his entire world flipped on its head when a completely unexpected question escaped Phil’s lips. “Have you ever thought about kissing him?” 

Stunned silence stretched between them. Fit’s mind was racing and his jaw agape. Now that was all he could think about. Gently kissing that wide smile, feeling it against his mouth. Being the one who received that smile in the morning. Being the one who caused that laugh the most, brought out that joy in him. “Holy shit,” he said softly. 

Phil chuckled slightly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

“Holy shit!” Fit said again as his world fell back into place, as everything started to make a little bit more sense. “I have to find Tubbo.” 

[nyoomfruits]

PLEASE ELLIE

du bist mein schultenbrau

Tell me!! 🤍😂

ITS SO DUMB ITS JUST THE WORKING TITLE for everyone super confused by the context, the title is from this banger of a dutch après ski hit the title has mostly nothing to do with the fic except lando and oscar go on a ski trip in the winter break because oscar was supposed to go with his gf but she broke up with him and lando's like 'i'll go with you' and they spend a whole week on a super romantic couples ski trip As Bros (who fall in love. obviously) anyway thats a terrible explanation here's the first two opening scenes that actually set up the plot perfectly lmao:

Max texts Lando on one of this last days in the MTC, right before winter break is supposed to start. Lando doesn’t even notice at first, spending most of his time in and out of meetings, filming a few last minute promo vids. When he does notice, he sighs, annoyed, a little disappointed.

“Hm?” Oscar says, from across the table, where he’s slouched down in one of the office chairs, scrolling through his own phone.

“Max cancelled our trip,” Lando says, dropping his phone down on his thigh and staring up at the ceiling as he contemplates his options. He could go visit his parents, maybe. Maybe other Max and Martijn wanted to hang out for a bit.

“Verstappen?” Oscar asks, without glancing up from his phone. He’s been quiet all day, more quiet than usual. There’s a downward pitch to his mouth, bags under his eyes. Lando gets it, maybe. It’s been a long season, and even though they ended on a high note, he can understand the exhaustion. He’s feeling it himself, the aftereffects of months of giving it his all. It’s why he’d been looking forward to this trip so much.

“Fewtrell. We were going to the Maldives. But now his girlfriend wants to go visit her family, so.” He tries not to sound bitter about it. He gets it. She hardly gets to see him as it is, and it’s not like Max owes him anything.

He’d just really been looking forward to it.

“Can you cancel?” Oscar asks. He’s put his phone down, and he’s looking at Lando now, the way he always does. Like there’s nothing else in the world more worth looking at than Lando. It had unnerved Lando a little, in the beginning, until he’d realized that’s just how Oscar looks at people. Or, well, he assumes that’s just how Oscar looks at people. He’s never really been able to test this theory, but it makes sense, so. It’s probably true.

“Yeah,” Lando says. “Full deposit back and everything. Still. Rather be on a beach.”

Oscar snorts. “Luckier than me, then.”

“Why?” Lando asks, frowning, wondering if he’s forgetting something.

“I was supposed to go to this ski resort with Lily. But now. Well.” He looks pained, and when Lando sends him a confused look, he adds. “We, uh. We broke up. So.”

“Ah,” Lando says. So maybe it hadn’t all been exhaustion, then. “I’m sorry.”

Oscar shrugs, but his mouth is still pitched down and he’s not looking at Lando, instead focusing on his hands, where he’s fiddling with his phone. “It’s okay. It just wasn’t working out anymore. For either of us. But uh. Yeah. Still sucks. Plus I can’t get my deposit back, so now I either go on this stupid ski trip alone, which is just sad, or I just lose the money.”

Technically, Oscar could probably afford to lose the money. He’s rich enough. But it’s the principal of the thing. Also, Oscar still has that sad puppy look on his face and it’s pulling at Lando’s heart a little bit. It’s the only excuse he has for blurting out. “I’ll go with you.”

“Oh,” Oscar says, looking up, surprised.

“Yeah,” Lando says, thinking about it a little more seriously. “Yeah, why not? Teammate bonding outside of the season. It’ll be good for us. Plus, it solves both of our problems. You don’t lose the money and you don’t look like a sad sack of shit in front of all those fancy ski people, and I get to go on a vacation after all. Win win.”

“I mean,” Oscar says, and he seems to actually consider it now. “It’s no beach.”

Lando shrugs. “Bet the gin and tonics still taste roughly the same,” he says, and Oscar laughs, one of those full body things where he folds in half with the force of it. The joke’s not that funny, but it’s the happiest he’s seen Oscar all day, so he’ll take it.

“Sure,” Oscar says. “Why not. Let’s go.”

--

It isn’t until Lando’s standing in the door opening of their little cabin for the weekend, backpack hanging off one shoulder and suitcase at his feet, that he realizes how intimate this is. He should’ve guessed, maybe. Oscar had said it was a trip he’d booked for him and his girlfriend, so. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, perse. But this is. It’s small. It’s cozy. There’s a fireplace.

“Lando, I don’t want to rush you, mate, but it’s like minus ten out here and I’m not wearing my ski jacket yet,” Oscar says, from somewhere behind him, a noticeable shiver in his voice.

“Right, yeah, sorry,” Lando says, moving further into the cabin, dragging his luggage with him. Lando had flown in from Monaco, fresh off celebrating New Year’s with his friends. Oscar had flown in from London, and Lando’s pretty sure he spend both Christmas and New Year’s alone. It shouldn’t tug at his heart strings as much as it does, probably.

Oscar makes his way inside, dumping his suitcase by the couch and looking around. “Quaint,” he settles on.

“All right, big fancy words man,” Lando says, rolling his eyes. “Please tell me you know how to make a fire, it’s fucking freezing in here.”

“I do, actually,” Oscar says, beelining for the fireplace while Lando wanders further into the cabin, darkly muttering ‘of course you do’.

The living room is massive, with a giant L shaped couch in front of the fireplace, and big open windows looking out over the beautiful snowy landscape outside. To the left, there’s an open archway to a kitchen and dining room, and to the right are two doors. One, upon opening it, turns out to lead to a pretty decently sized bathroom. The other-

“Oscar,” Lando says, frowning a little. “Are you aware there’s only one bed?”

“What?” Oscar says, looking up from where he’s fidgeting with something in the fireplace. Lando doesn’t say anything, just holds open the bedroom door and gestures at the frankly giant bed. “Oh, yeah,” he says, looking a little forlorn. “I mean. Yeah. When I booked it- Well. They didn’t have any cabins with single beds, so.” He shrugs a little bashfully. “I’ll uh, take the couch. It’s big enough.”

And he looks so small, and so sad, crouched in front of the fire, shoulders slightly hunched over, that tired, sad expression back on his face, and goddamnit. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Lando says, closing the door resolutely and going to grab his luggage. “We’ll share.”

“But-“ Oscar shares, and behind him, there seems to have appeared an actual fire in the fireplace. Lando raises an impressed eyebrow.

“No. We’ll share. It’s fine, the bed is giant. I think we’d be sleeping closer together if they had given us separate beds, that’s how big it is,” Lando says, grabbing his bags and making his way back to the bedroom.

“Okay,” Oscar says, but he doesn’t look so sad anymore, smiling a little at Lando’s dumb little joke, and that’s. Lando will take that, if anything.

“So,” Lando says, flopping down on the giant couch after he’s managed to ditch all of their luggage. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

[tireddovahkiin]

📝: How would your story in canon go? How would you influence the events of the original story? & 👀: How does your ship with your f/o influence both of your characterisations and the world? Would there be any interesting metas written about your dynamic?

Hiiii thanks for the askkk ;D sorry for the long post in advance, I had to rant a bit >.<

I'll answer for Devil May Cry this time :)

For the first question, I haven't really thought about it in details, but I know that if I were to appear in any of the games, it would probably be in Devil May Cry 2. I thought of a funny scenario, where technically, Dante finds a young child "lost" and wandering alone, looking for something, and about to be attacked by some demons, but he saves me in the last second. I introduce myself, and tell him that I lost a special 'friend' of mine. A yellow puppy plush, named Junior. (For those who don't know, Junior is like a manifestation of my actual irl plushie that is alive and has some sort of magical powers and stuff! He basically represents like a guardian figure, and my comfort object/childhood, and follows me anywhere and everywhere ^^)

That is like the only explanation he gets from me LMAO💀I was generally a non-verbal child, and I just also infilcted it on little me in the game XD Poor Dante does try to get answers from me, but I either don't answer, shrug, or shake my head.

That is basically a whole "additional" mission in the game, trying to help the little me find my lost toy friend. When he eventually does help me, Dante can only be left dumbfounded as an actual plushie moves and speaks as a real living being. Thanking Dante, I dissapear off behind a corner, and if he chooses to follow me, there won't be anyone behind. Quite mysterious, right?

I do appear once or twice again, somewhere settled during the DMC Animated series, to thank Dante again, and that is when I meet Patty😌 we kinda become strange friends in a way, but I hide the fact that Junior is alive🤧. From then on, I stop appearing, and Dante thinks we'll never meet again...

UNTIL BEFORE DMC4!

Basically, during one of his many missions, Dante actually gets unexpected help, that happens to be a person that is just so awfully familiar to him. Handling a great crossbow (YES that is my weapon I LOVE CROSSBOWS), with a strange yellow puppy on their shoulder... AND THE HE REALIZES!!! It's Jayden expect big and all grown :3 I stick around and help him, before returning together to his office, and that is when I ACTUALLY talk to the man about me LOL XD

Seeing how my skills actually are very good for a hunter, he decides to let me tag along when I can, and I basically become a part-time devil hunter! Since I am not always around, that is alright, but when I AM, I always make sure to lend a hand :>

And THAT, is basically how I met everyone else. I went on a few missions with Trish and Lady, and we also became good teammates. I also got along with Dante pretty well, we became some sort of buddies, ya could say ><

Now, how I met my pretty pookie boyf NERO? After the events of DMC4. It's a bit of a funny scene, actually😂He finds me napping my ass off on the couch HAHA Dante is all nonchalant about it, and even tries to shush Nero to be quiet with a finger LOOOOL basically, napping is all I do when I hang around the office, so Dante, Trish and Lady got used to it. Except for Nero, he was so confused💀

That is how our friendship started! We would be paired the most for missions, by Dante no less, when Nero joined to work for his uncle. Nero was still with Kyrie during that period, but did slowly start to "loose" feelings. Truth is, I actually got a crush on him pretty quickly, but hid it from everyone because... Yeah, he was already in love :( Basically, a year passed before we actually got together, and Nero slowly realised his true feelings, what a dumbass (i love him.)

Now, as for the events in DMC5, I didn't come to that part yet, because I haven't even watched DMC5 yet T0T I'm waiting for my friend to finish showing me his playthrough of DMC3 before I continue to the last game. But, yeah, that is basically it!

For the second question... Um... I kinda don't understand it??💀💀💀😭😭😭 sorry, If i knew I'd answer it, really, but I'll have to skip this one😔 if someone would be so kind to explain what is a meta and all that...

[gxixiz]

Unserious thoughts on Fengshen Yanyi

So I read Investiture of the Gods and I wanna ramble. In no particular order:

I watched many adaptations before reading the book. I didn't realize they changed so much from the book.

As always, Da Ji is an architect.

I want to know about the magical steeds. Huang Fei Hu rides his sideways. Too much metaphorical and not enough literal description on the battles. Tell me about the cattle! What colours are it?

Shen Gongbao is not actually present for most of the book?! He only appears 1/3 into the book, even though he's Jiang Ziya's junior. It is implied he works behind the scenes to send people to fight but he rarely appears in person.

People being shocked when they see a tiger coming, then the tiger rider assuring them it's a domestic tiger. LMAO

Fang Bi and Fang Xiang deserved better. They were standouts in the first part of the book.

The San Yisheng and Fang brothers interaction was hilarious. Changed my mind from Yisheng being a know-it-all strategist to being a funny nerd.

Both Nezha and Li Jing are bad people. And Taiyi Zhenren. Poor Shiji Niangniang and her disciples.

What's the creepy ELDRITCH entity that in the Hulu??? And the user has to be respectful to it so it doesn't slice their head off? Jiang Ziya explanation of it didn't explain anything at all.

I thought the 3 sects were Chan, Jie and Dao, but apparently there's a Buddhist sect??

Yin Hong's death was the best part of the book. Zhou Wang's death is the second best part. They were very anime deaths, all the flashbacks.

You could really tell how the writing worsened at the Ten Deadly Formations. You're telling me the GOOD guys are sending new recruits into the formations just to die? And the formations all boil down to you get sliced/burnt/melted and you die. After the 3rd formation Wen Zhong should have attempted to kill the good guys directly already.

Even Ziya hated it. He broke the fourth wall，“莫非又是十绝阵的故事？” Please no.

Speaking of this, Ziya knows things that only the reader should. Well, he could be using magic to learn the information.

The good guys are speciesist. But them hanging the name on the animal remind me of those old Pokemon fanart LOL.

Tu Xing Sun must die. Deng Chanyu needs to kill him. WHY did the good guys enable him?? AAAA

Deng Chanyu was seemingly the most effective warrior. But her rocks never kill anybody, only send them running. And they eat their pills and immediately recover. So what's the point of injuring anybody without killing them?

The two princes are rather easily convinced.

You telling me the earthworm guy is named Qiu Yin?

The animal people having pun names is hilarious. I want to design Spider-Man characters but Feng Shen.

Long Xu Hu's my fave. The author/editor clearly lied about him not becoming a god. NOOO!!

At the end of the book, it says that the new King's court is radically different, but then they describe it similarly to Zhou Wang's.

Stop talking about the Yao, Shun, Yu story! You've said it ten times.

Other repetitive things: Zhou Wang's crimes, pretty mountains

Why did Zhou Wang not get a special section during the investiture? He's a more major character than many other's who got their own paragraph. I want to know the reaction of everyone when he was named.

The poor three sisters became toilet gods.

The sycophantic officials didn't die from getting frozen. They were executed. Ha! So Ji Chang was wrong.

The freezing was unnecessarily complicated. Melting the ice then freezing it then melting it then freezing it again.

Ziya's ex-wife committing suicide was weird. And she was rewarded for it by becoming a god.

Were the two officials who were executed by Ziya at the end part of the 365? I don't want to count.

Dragons are already part of the Heavenly Court, aren't they? So Ao Bing dying won't affect his career much.

Gold bricks are OP. Additional evidence: Water Margin.

Multiple times, Wen Zhong could predict that Ziya was conducting a night raid, prepared for it, and still lost the battle. How?

Daji's sisters didn't do much, even though they're supposed to be powerful.

Fox monsters can disguise their appearance but not their scent. Given that many animals, including foxes, have a keen sense of smell, disguising their scent would be obvious.

The failure of many Ziya's business ventures were not his fault.

Ziya's friend is extremely rich.

So many children helping their father even though they haven't seen them for years. And their father doing nothing for them.

Do the Taoist masters just kidnap children? "Oh, that kid's gonna grow up to be a serial killer, I have to kidnap him."

Unlike adaptations, Bi Gan's talisman was accidentally foiled by some rando. It's his own fault for asking about hearts.

Yang Jian killing his enemy's mother and in such a humiliating way?

Yan Di being the only relevant one of the Three Sovereigns. Only him and Fu Xi had lines. Is it because the third guy's identity varies so much?

Also if the three sovereigns are there and contactable, why do the characters speak like they are dead.

Wow it's Korea.

[hsr-texts]

yasss can I get vampire Welt for the Halloween event?

;; ꒰ NOTE/s ꒱🎃 oooo new headcanon that the astral express in this au is a vampire coven. continuation of this part. lmao yes this might just be a whole series atp

;; ꒰ WARNING/s ꒱🎃 n/a, i think.

You waited for a bus at the bus station. It shouldn't be too long until the next one arrived so you should be able to get to your friend's house quick. They were nice enough to let you come over and stay the night without explanation. You didn't even know how you were going to explain this to them. Surely they're going to think you were insane for talking about these strange creatures. No, you could only tell a half truth. There was only a certain extent that they'd believe in your words.

It wouldn't be too farfetched to just tell them someone broke into your house while you were away, right?

When the bus arrived, you spared no time to get on.

Oddly enough, there was only one person on board, an older man. The lights hanging above his head illuminated the bus. His brunet hair had a small streak of white, depicting his old age.

You sat down at the other side of the seats. Unfortunately this bus was smaller than usual and could not opt for a much farther seat from him. Hopefully he wasn't hostile.

A tired sigh escaped your lips, feeling awfully sleepy. It's been such a long night. You just wanted to pass out on a nice comfy bed after all these experiences with strange people.

"Excuse me," a mature voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

You turned to him, feeling anxiety creep up your spine. Oh no, was he also some kind of supernatural being?

"I wanted to thank you for tending to my companion's wounds. And to apologise for the fright this has caused you," he spoke with sincerity in his words.

Your eyebrows furrowed at this. "How did you know that...?"

"After my companion returned, he told me that you might be in danger so I had to go find you." He looked quite troubled by this.

"Who was that guy and why was he looking for your friend?" You asked him, hesitant. Should you be prying into this? Would you be in more danger the more you involved yourself?

Ugh, though technically just by going out of your way to do first aid on that guy, you already did involve yourself in whatever this was. Was there still a point to trying to escape it? Could you even trust this man to be kind to you?

"I'm sure you need rest right now more than you need answers," he told you. "I'll accompany you to make sure you aren't attacked on the way and hopefully the next time we meet, I'll be able to give you those answers you seek."

The bus had stopped and you realised this was where you got off so you left your seat to make your way to your friend's house. The older man came with you. He hasn't given you any reason to suspect him as dangerous so you just let him tag along. At least you felt safer with someone to escort you to your friend's.

"I believe this is as far as I go. You should be safe from this point on as long as you stay with your friend," the man told you, "I think it'd do you well to hold onto that pendant. It'll keep you safe."

You nodded, then realised something. "I didn't catch your name there."

He paused for a moment, then replied, "My apologies, that was a fault on my part. My name is Welt. I hope you stay safe, even if we may never meet again."

"You too, Mr. Welt," you told him and turned around to go to your friend's house.

When you peeked behind you, the man had disappeared into thin air.