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yanderestarangel · 6 months

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Hii, would you write some soft smut about a Lin Kuei brother/s (could be any brother or all of them, I wouldn't complain, I love them all) something like you having to take care of them because they are injured (like them with an arm cast) and you having to help them with things like bathing, dressing, etc. It could be slow or soft since they're injured, but just giving ideas, love your works 🩷

HEADKANONS MK1 | TAKING CARE OF THE LIN KUEI TRIO | SOFT SMUT EDITION

TW: smut, v!sex, blowjob, afab anatomy, mk1 spoilers about the canon story, mention of fractures, care, slow sex, no pronouns used other than 'you', nsfw text, whining.

A/N: thanks anon, sorry if it strayed a little from what you wanted, i hope you like it.

♡ TOMAS VRBADA ♡ He accidentally broke his arm when he went to do the mission with his brothers, because of Nitara he had one of his joints dislocated when he tried to hold on to the steep wall of Shang Tsung's castles, however, due to the seriousness of the task he had to endure the pain until I got home - It was a horrible scene to see Tomas staggering with his arm hurting and tears in his eyes, and one of the words you can describe him at that moment was: extremely vulnerable.

He asked for your help to find a doctor, but unknown to his brothers, he didn't want to be a burden or appear weak, he just needed you with him. After the doctor carried out the process and immobilized his arm, forcing him to have only one of his useful arms.

Smoke loved being spoiled by you, but in those conditions they made him feel like a burden but you didn't mind taking care of him, after all, he was your husband.

He would ask for help with everything, be it putting on clothes, eating or taking a shower, some things he can do alone but he is a spoiled big boy who loved your hands on him.

And this applies in bed too.

A broken arm won't stop Tomas from wanting to fuck you, he has a high libido, which means being at home and seeing you 24/7 will mess with his head.

As he will be vulnerable, you will have to be careful where he touches.

Bath sex would be the best, with Tomas sitting in the bathtub facing you, his muscular body completely naked and wet from the hot water, while you watched him get hard while you rubbed his body with relaxing massage oils, especially when your fingers touched his abdomen. His erection can be seen by you a short time later, with Vrbada's blue eyes staring at you, he would moan rubbing his body against you - a mixture of physical pain from the injury and also the primordial need to be satisfied by you - There's no way to tell not him pouting and moaning needily for you. Which leads you to have to ride him, in cowgirl position, however, being careful not to force his body too much.

Even if he was in pain, he wasn't going to talk, the heat of your pussy makes him forget any physical pain and even his broken arm, the sight of your body on top of him, breasts bouncing copiously as you ran your hands over his face, ensuring of asking if he's okay with every rhythm of your hips - it was something priceless to him, any pain was literally nothing if he had that feeling forever, being cared for by you, being loved by you.

You would be able to see his face beneath you, eyes slowly closing, the sound of the water entering your ears as you saw Tomas practically sleeping while moaning still inside your wetness, he will babble some things, but unheard of, cut off by the hoarse moans that came out of his throat, he would weakly move his hips upwards, while moaning louder, which wasn't much, after all he was in that state but you could hear an "-I love you" between the lustful whispers, proof that he He wanted you there forever and admired the effort you were making for him, you would see that even though he was "sick" he would make an effort to make you come. "-I want you to cum too my little angel."

Tomas would moan feeling the familiar heat in his balls, cumming a while later with a long, tired groan, emptying his seed inside you. "-I promise that when I'm better, I'll reward you, okay?" He whispers, leaning on your body, taking one of your breasts to his lips, while the two of you hugged each other in the heat of your sweaty and wet bodies.

♡ BI HAN ♡ The cut caused by kung lao in the fight rehearsed by Liu Kang in Mrs. Bo's bar left him with a deeper injury than he initially imagined. However, as was to be expected from the feared grandmaster, he didn't mention it to anyone - anyone other than you - He tried to pretend that the bleeding from his arm wasn't hurting, and that you were being "dramatic" for worrying about it. he.

Bi Han tried to pretend that the pain wasn't affecting him, but late that night you woke up to him literally crying in pain in your shared bed. He was fragile, something that disturbed you, the grand master and your husband were crying like a baby - and soon you realized that he really needed your help.

You quickly called a lin kuei doctor - according to Bi Han he would keep it all a secret so that the dreaded sub zero wouldn't look like a weakling who was crying over a bruise caused by a simple farmer.

Bi Han would have to rest for a few days and this gave him a face you had never known, a vulnerable, sweet and fragile man. He didn't demand anything else, he didn't order or be cocky with you, he simply spoke quietly - "Can you please help me?" "My arm hurts, can you help me eat?" "Can you help me tie up my hair?" - and so on, he let himself be himself, a man who needed and wanted to be taken care of by someone and that someone was you.

It was a new experience, even endearing, he felt slightly strange being at home so much - being so comfortable and without any underlying worries about the clan, just you and him. He would look at you in the reflection of the dressing table mirror, as he watched you comb his long, silky, black hair, even though he had said that he didn't need it - an understatement, obviously he needed it, but not just in a physical sense but in the soul, the His eyes said "please take care of me" even though the spoken words said the opposite. You just said you needed to take care of him, while preventing future protests.

He felt your warm fingers on his cold skin, your eyes full of care and love for him, as your body moved to take something he asked for, for the first time the feeling of lust came along with the voluntary desire to give himself to you, he wasn’t going to dominate you that night, but rather be dominated and taken care of.

And that's how he stopped beneath you, your pussy swallowed every inch of his hard and needy shaft, his arm that was still useful rested on your waist, his lips met yours, he whimpered and whispered sweet things, between messy and raw kisses, the sound of the bed creaking and the wetness of their bodies was loud but low, like a bedtime song from the ancient gods.

Bi Han broke the kiss, looking deep into his eyes, moaning needily with each lustful kiss that his cunt's lips placed on his cock, making him throw his head back and grab the sheets.

"-I love you so much Mmmh-" the grand master moaned as he opened his lips, he didn't even try to push his body for more friction, he just wanted to be there and say all the things he wouldn't normally say because because of his inflated ego, things like:

"-Please never leave my side, always take care of me, I'm nothing without you."

"-I would never leave you dear please, just let me cum and satisfy you."

"-Ah- Fuck... I'm close p-please." - Among other phrases inaudible through the decibels of his hoarse voice, so, he just wanted you to stay riding all night on top of him, beneath the low orange light reflected by the wood, the pain and everything Bi Han felt was forgotten in a box of time, at that moment, he was just a man ready to be loved by you.

♡ KUAI LIANG ♡ The fight with Bi Han left a scar on Kuai's face, but not just that, but several external and internal bruises. Unlike his brothers, he will ask for your help immediately, he will be fragile inside and out - In addition to the insecurity he will have because of the bruise on his face, thinking that you won't find him prettier because of that, so you.

You'll need to comfort him mentally too.

He would need your help to wash the dried blood from his sweaty skin, as he spoke of what happened, with a voice of disappointment and a soul that cried out for contact and love, something that only you could offer him - the first nights after that he he will have a fever, his body is already hot naturally, however, you could see the steam that came out with each contact with the cold water that fell on his body, with each bath, an indication that he was sick, he would stay in your arms , just enjoying your scent while you gave him a bath, he would whisper smiling in your ear how good you made him feel, how special the pyromancer felt with your hands on him.

"-You make me feel like a prince, you know?" Kuai Liang smiled as he brought both calloused hands to your face, taking in every feature he could see, as if you were going to disappear - and he was really afraid of that happening - Liang would smile even more when he saw you join the bath with him, He could already feel his erection pulsing, all the blood that was rushing to his head had already gone to his dick, making him moan.

He would guide his strong, warm arms against your waist, kissing your neck as he moaned softly, pressing his hard length against your ass. "-Please... Take care of me honey, I just need to feel you even more my love." and with that, you understood the message, to take care of him in several different environments, whether sexual or not, since the heat in his body was not just from an inopportune fever but a passion as strong as the fire of hell.

You knelt in front of him, knees aching slightly from the contact with the cold and wet ceramic, he looked at you with expectation and need, while with one hand he weakly guided your head to his pulsing shaft, the oral ministrations would leave him a shaking mess in a short time - due to the sensitivity of his condition, he would whine more than usual -

"-Good job... Yes... Just like that, keep it up please..." he moaned, practically a sentence that could easily be read as an attempt to beg, beg you not to stop.

"-You'll never leave me right? Mmm- I'm just yours, and you're just mine..." He continued as he pushed his hips lightly against your lips, he could stay there forever, looking at you deep down from his eyes while he was fully in your mouth, but he knew it wouldn't last long, hoarse moans and sweet phrases would come out of his throat, while hot and salty jets fell on your tongue, with Kuai Liang breathing heavily in the process. He would look at you again, with a tired and sleepy smile, leaning against the wall.

"-I love being taken care of by you..." was the only thing he said, before pulling you into another hug.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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forsworned · 12 days

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That Keegan post you made had me clutching my PEARLS! Your use of words was so masterfully done! I really loved the new vocab I learned while reading your work.

Your depiction of the relationship was also so so nice. Very loving and attentive and just so sweet. I could tell they loved one another and had already established boundaries that they knew they shouldn’t cross. The ending was lovely as well, a great way to tie things up.

Thank you for writing it! I’m excited to see what else your lovely brain comes up with!

-🧢

Whispers in the Woods: A Stranger's Shelter ft. OfftheGridCowboy!Keegan Russ

Sypnosis: When Keegan finds you petrified, running for your life from creatures unknown to you in the Haunted Appalachia trails after sundown, he takes you in for the night. Things get a bit crazy...

Warning(s): Mentions of Sexual Content, Violence, Petnames (?), Blood, Supernatural Horror (?), Eventual Smut, Barely Proofread, Reader is 28 and Keegan is 30, Reader is also AFAB

Word Count: 7.5k (enjoy keegan lovers ;)

Author's note: Blue cap anon thank you so much for inspiring me to write for Keegan. Honestly, I really love how this fic turned out and I hope you do too. I am so sorry I took so long to reply to you but you seriously warmed my heart so sosososo much when I read your message. I did not mean to put you on the back burner for this long/ Just know I have put so much effort into this to provide you a solid work so I hope that is a good enough excuse to have such a delayed response. Also so glad that you learned some new words LOL that really tickles me tbh, but I want to work more with the relationship that reader builds with Keegan in general or with any character x reader I write. So please enjoy this :)

edit: i think it's lowkey not living up to my expectations but ummm fuck it we ball

Sparks fly as the firewood in the pit crackles, casting an orange ember over you and the stranger sitting in front of you. His eyes, reminiscent of the cool, blueness of winter are lingering on you, and his heavy, leather jacket drapes over your shoulders to shield you from the chilliness of the early April evening. With his black cowboy hat slightly tilted upward, you note the black bandana covering most of his face, adding an air of mystery to his appearance.

"You really shouldn't be out here." His voice edges a precarious tone, though you cannot determine if it's toward you or whatever lurks in the abysmal woods. Maybe it was both. Your fingers curl around the distressed tanned hide, fiddling with the stitching of the material. A shudder careens through the columns of your spine, goosebumps trail over your skin, and the fuzz across your neck rises briefly.

"Don't look. Don't even acknowledge it." He instructs, steadying his gaze on you as he tinkers with the butterfly knife in his gloved hand. "W-what?" You gasp out, eyes reaming as your quivering vision sets on the embers of the pyre. A sinister presence harks over your convulsing body, heart palpitating out of your tightening sternum. But as soon as it arrives it departs and you're left heaving for the oxygen that was stripped from your lungs.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, what are you doin' walkin' around aimlessly in these mountains?" He repeatedly latches and unlatches the metal object in his hands, his gaze fixates on you. Truthfully, you were lost. When the engine of the old Dodge that you inherited from your grandfather abruptly cut out as you passed through a dead zone, it was all hauling ass from there on out. Classic damsel in distress situation.

Your father and he had both warned you about the Appalachian mountains. How apex predators inhabited the woods, preying on the innocent, ripping flesh apart on sight, or disappearing into the ghastly woods to never return. But, of course, you wrote it off as fearmongering. Never had you experienced the soul-crushing, harrowing existence of unidentified, cryptids lurking within the lacunas of the evergreens.

"My truck it—" You start to say, but the sound of him exhaling loudly cuts you off and you glance up at him with misery strewn across your features. Doe-eyes glimmering from the wetness that was welling in your oculars as your lips tremble. He outstretches his arm to the lantern on the perched log, "I've heard enough."

He begins to get up, extinguishing the flame, smothering it with what seemed to be a bag of salt and you felt fear creeping back into your system.

"Come on." As the pyre's embers fade, the lantern's switch emits a squeak, coaxing the oil flame to life, while the blood-curdling shrieks send shivers down your spine, ringing in your ears. And as if on cue, you cling to his side and he lets out a soft huff, feeling your arm coil around his.

The inferno acts as a bulwark from whatever is skulking around the both of you in the obscurity of the night as you move through the forest. You catch glimpses of shadows trekking about, seemingly running away from you now. A stark contrast from the previous frantic sprint through the woods in your petite, white frilly prairie dress that was now tattered at the edges and puffy sleeves. Now, you were safe. At least you certainly hope so.

A tiny light enters your line of sight in the distance, and you can only assume that that is his home. But you were still heeding the noises and images being molded in front of human eyes. It was as if the veil was lifted here, a supernatural existence in the vast mountains and woods of the Appalachia. You don't know whether to be terrified or fascinated, but you keep quiet as he silently leads you down the desire path to his home that is etching itself a little more into the horizon.

Approaching the home, you begin to notice the clandestine features of the house. A zephyr sweeps past you and the distinct smell of lavender and sage gently brims into your senses. You visibly shudder as the steps creak under your weight, your arm remains tucked into his own as he fishes out his keys and unlocks the door. Like a gentleman, he gestures to allow you in first and he follows closely behind, shutting it behind him.

"Shoes off at the door." He directs, treading past you as he tosses another piece of firewood into the lit fireplace.

What the fuck?

Is he just not going to acknowledge the paranormal manifestation that incurred upon them just now? The shadows of unearthly skinwalkers who infest the woods, who are prowling out there now as they barricade themselves from the outside? What is stopping them from forcefully intruding into his home?

You finally catch your breath for a moment, still feeling your heart hammering against your chest before you speak. "Are we not going to talk about what we just saw?"

"Nope." He simply replies, from another room and you blink back in surprise. Then it sinks in.

Of course, how could you forget? How can you forget the rules of the Appalachia, that were engrained into you as a child?

If you see something strange in the wilderness, no, you didn't.

If you hear something call your name, no, you didn't.

If you hear screaming in the Appalachian mountains, especially a woman's scream, no, you didn't.

If you feel something stalking you, do not run.

Never, ever, whistle at night.

Never go into the woods at night.

Never leave your windows open at night, even in the summer and honestly, the list dragged on and on and on.

Most of it falls on deaf ears never believing in the legends, and yet, here you are shaken up by things you never thought existed in a stranger's home who found it in his heart to shelter you until what you suppose would be dawn.

A wavering breath escapes you as you take a long gander at the well-maintained colonial home. The timeless and heirloom quality of the home becomes evident upon analyzing the vast array of paintings and framed photographs adorning the walls, each depicting individuals with strikingly similar features—dark brows, thick lashes, and mesmerizing steely blue eyes that seemed to penetrate your soul. You can't quite make out the framed artwork through your muzzy vision, but it's eerie the way you can't quite pinpoint why the face was so recognizable to you.

Exposed wooden ceiling beams motion your eyes to the inherited items and the mounted deer skull above the hearth. The warmth emanating from it felt different, soothing, lulling your quivery limbs. You oblige and kick off your boots, padding behind him as he draws out his gun from his holster and places it on the mahogany table. He removes his cowboy hat, hanging it on the horseshoe hat rack adjacent to the fireplace revealing his tousled short black locks. As he begins to unmask himself, a small gasp leaves your lips, fixating on his newly exposed features. And he was goddamn handsome and unusually reminiscent of someone from your childhood embarked into the backlogs of your memory, but of course, you brush it off.

And although he hears it, he does not acknowledge it as one hand grips the wooden chair and the other runs over his dark stubble. He's pensive. The last thing he needed was some heretic woman living under his roof for Lord knows how long. At this point, he decides that you are his responsibility and he cannot shirk from that for that would be unbecoming of a man like himself and he was raised better than that.

He glances up at the painting of his father above the hearth and you take note of the reflective state. His daddy was the embodiment of a Cowboy. Gentlemanly, charming, nifty, and always genial, providing the best hospitality a person could provide. No way, he'd accept Keegan kicking you to the curb, leaving you out for those creatures to rip you apart. Plus, his father would simply rise from his grave and kick his ass.

"You hungry?" He pays no mind to your lingering, bewitched eyes as he moves to the kitchen and you like a lost puppy trailing behind him. "Got some leftover potato leek soup."

And as if on cue, your stomach growls and he glances at your hand over your tummy. You flush from the embarrassment of your stomach being that raucous. He cocks a brow at you and you can't tell if he's amused or annoyed. Probably both. "Go sit." He points his chin to the table by the fireplace and you pad back to the living room, the tempering sensation of the flames causes you to become drowsy. You loll your head to analyze his stature. His figure towers over all of the antique appliances in the kitchen, muscles flexing as he prepares to reheat the soup on the stove. Rolling up his sleeves to reveal his taut, tanned forearms to open the cabinet and pull out the loaf of handmade sourdough, slicing it evenly and efficiently before tossing it in the toaster.

His form becomes a bit hazy as you lay your head against the top rail of the chair, mesmerized by the allure of his broadened shoulders, and soft pink lips that all by hide the peeking tongue indicating his concentration in preparing you a homecooked meal. Keegan never has guests over, in fact, no one is ever daft enough to come running around this way anyways because locals know better and tourists are too scared shitless to even enter this part of the Appalachia. He likes it like that, away from everything and everyone, being able to maintain his family's ranch that was inherited by him at the ripening age of 18.

His mother moved out to the suburbs because the death of his father was far too devasting on her already weary soul to continue living her days out on the farm. But Keegan doesn't mind it. He handles the livestock with ease, providing care to the birthing cattle, and maintaining the operations of the facilities as a whole to keep his honest living thriving. It's all in a good day's work for him. So caring after you shouldn't be too much of a hassle right?

You're suddenly awoken to the soft clatter of the bowl being set on the wooden table, the savory aroma of potato leek soup, and freshly toasted sourdough bread. He sets a glass of water beside you before he pulls his seat adjacent to you with his food.

"Eat." He orders, waiting for you to take a spoonful of thick soup. You hesitantly lift the spoon before glancing up at him. He blinks back at you, realizing the weight of his indiscretion, and whisks the soup with his spoon before noshing on it as if to tell you that is not poisoned nor drugged. Your other hand takes the bread in between your fingers and he mirrors your actions, claiming a bite from his own and you visibly relax.

The soup is scalding to the touch, but you welcome the sensation when you get a taste of the heavenly whipped soup. Not a single lump, just the smoothest, most savory supping of such a simple hearty soup instantly heartening your disconcerting body right down to your unsteady hand.

"I'll fix your truck as soon as dawn breaks." He flashes a glance before breaking his bread and scooping it into his soup. "Make yourself comfortable in the guest bedroom." He gestures with his hand to the upstairs.

"Oh, I couldn't—" You begin to say, but he will have none of it.

"You're not going out there until the sun's out." He replies simply, as he lifts his glass of water and sips from it. You observe the way his Adam's apple oscillates under his stubbly throat and you swallow thickly when you realize he's gazing at you keenly.

Warmth spreads to your cheeks and your eyes are now following the pattern of the wood grain. "That's…very kind of you."

"'s just the human thing to do." And there is an emphasis on the word 'human'.

You begin to play with your soup, scooping it up and letting it fall back into the bowl. "Right." Your voice is soft as you try to block out the memory just moments ago.

He narrows his eyes as if to study you. "What's your name?"

You glance up at him, and you're almost a bit hesitant to tell him. You almost want to lie, but you decide otherwise. "[Name], and yours?"

"Keegan."

"Keegan what?" You press. He raises a brow at you as he chews on his bread.

"Russ."

Russ. An esteemed surname that was echoed throughout your household during your adolescence. Presley Russ was a handsome and genial man who appeared at your father's porch steps every so often, tipping his hat at you with that charming smile and those glacial hues that made your heart jump. He'd invite your daddy out for nights at the rodeo or sipping on Highland Gaelic Ales on the porch from the afternoon til midnight, biding his time between Maryland and North Carolina.

You never quite caught glimpses of his son when you were living out on the ranch before you moved out for college, but you did remember a time when you ventured out past sunset in the abandoned village in the Black Hills you knew better than to be in when your daddy had to travel to Wheaton for the grand opening of his old buddy, Presley's restaurant accompanied by his reclusive son who you never remembered the name of. But for God's sake, who was stupid enough to go treading alone around the same location as the filming of the Blair Witch Project?

But you were a skeptic at best until you heard the unrelenting repetition of your name being called which led you astray, causing you to stumble over your own feet and ultimately collide with a rock that rendered you unconscious. Soon enough, you felt yourself being carried back to your home in the arms of the Russ boy with the hardened steely gaze that intently stared down at the knot forming on your forehead. You had never shut your eyes so quickly and the sound of his soft chuckle, caused you to be even more embarrassed as you were being handed off to your worried parents who were more than relieved and thankful to have retrieved you.

Of course, you had to act like you were unconscious. It was already humiliating enough that you were old enough to know better, but being ferried by a cute boy like you were some helpless damsel in distress was just mortifying.

But that was long forgotten by you in hazy summer days during your teen years before you went off to college and moved out into the city. In reality, you had written it off as a dream, a hallucination concocted by that vivid and graphic imagination of yours. That was always the case with you and the Appalachia. Always the non-believer.

But part of you was hoping that maybe he didn't recognize you after all this time, and yet the way he is staring you down is beginning to feel like otherwise.

"Blair." He suddenly says matter-of-factly as he taps his finger at the table and nods again. "Blair." A small toothy grin creeps on his lips before he chuckles.

Your eyes reaming as your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"

"Black Hills, you're the daughter of the farmer right up in Garrett County."

You feel the warmth blooming on your cheeks. He knew. "I—How do you remember that?"

"Knew you looked familiar." He dives back into his steaming soup. "Was tryin' to figure out where I'd seen that necklace of yours." He juts his chin, pointing to the family heirloom that kisses your clavicle. It had been passed down for generations to the women in your family as a symbol of health, wisdom and longetivity. You feel for the 20k gold pendant with lilac and sage engraved into the soft metal.

He looks as if he's stifling another snicker. "Think you pissed yourself a little when I found you unconscious."

Now that gets you real flared up. The abrupt change in mood was beginning to wrack your nerves. You sigh knowing that at the very least you were in good hands. Familiarity begins to set in as he breaks the ice, creating a more comfortable atmosphere between you two.

"I did not!" You puff your cheeks out at him and he's tickled pink by your endearing, agitated reactions.

His gleeful grin only grows to his eyes. "Now, who willing goes into the woods by themselves when they know damn well what kind of activity breeds over there, hm? Gotta death wish if you ask me, kid."

You open your mouth to say something, but it clamps shut. You don't know whether to be abashed by the way his face lights up like the stars in the heavens above, or by the fact that he remembers that you pissed yourself a little through your favorite pair of khaki parachute shorts in a known marked area where people have gone missing. The stark realization of it being a tangible memory was mussing at your trepidation towards him. But he's teasing you now and it stirs a strange kind of desire in your lower belly as you uncomfortably shift in your creaky wooden seat.

Pushing your bowl away, you avoid responding by guzzling down your water and then calmly placing it back down.

"I'd like to get ready for bed now, if you don't mind."

He jovially raises his eyebrows as he munches on the last of his bread. The smirk still curled up on the corners of his pinkened lips.

He wipes the crumbs off his hands and thumbs either side of his mouth before he gets up, gesturing to you. " 'Course not."

You stand up and politely push your chair in as you track behind him up the croaking staircase. Your body is practically heaving with every step and by the top of it, you're feeling a bit winded. Keegan decides to keep his comments to himself as he ushers you down the grandiose hallway. The walls are painted ivory, and wall sconces are tapered candles on held-up aged tin nailed into the parapet. Hardwood floors are well kept, but the small divots in between the grain quickly reveal the age.

He jingles the knob to what you suppose is the guest bedroom, but it seems to be locked. His fingers fish into his pocket and you watch as he phalanges through the set and then finally picks out the antiquated rusty skeleton key. It's honestly a bit jarring that it requires a key to fasten the door, but at this point, if you're being kept away from the monsters lurking outside you'd be happy to be his little prisoner for now.

He pushes the door and it moans open, though much to your surprise it's polished and orderly. In the middle of the room is a wooden four-poster queen-sized bed, with a princess-like sheer white canopy that surreptitiously envelops the bed. The furniture is a bit more romantic with detailed carved patterns on the bookshelves that line up against the wall to the vanity that sat adjacent to the bed. The carmine curtains that drape over the large window, easily maneuver you to the balcony, and the soft calling of your name beckons you to open it…

A sturdy hand clasps over your shoulder and you jolt as you turn to him. He's shaking his head as he towers over you and you look so goddamn feeble with those damn bambi eyes of yours shimmering in the tiny sliver of moonlight that peeks out from the window. He tears his gaze away to tread over to the window, squeezing it shut with the velcro he sewed into the fabric and reinforces the window shut.

A sharp exhale leaves his nostrils and his eyes are on you again. "I totally can see why you ended up the way you did." He glimpses over your dirtied and frayed dress, skinned, bloodstained knees, and contusions running up and down your legs. God, he makes it so easy to feel self-conscious.

He licks his lips as he hovers his hand over the knob to his right, and signals you over. You begrudgingly stride over and you're just as impressed at the bathroom. From the massive mirror above the traditional wooden undermount double sink vanity to the wine-red clawfoot freestanding bathtub. Little golden trinkets pinstripe the rosy walls with the soft warm lighting of the hanging flowery ceiling light fixtures. You squint your eyes when he adjusts the radiance to a white glow with the dimmer light switch before he opens the drawers one by one.

"Towels, robes, spare clothes, toiletries. Gimme a shout if you need anything else."

You open your mouth to say something and his eyes playfully narrow at you. "—within reason, missy."

Your bottom lip reflexively juts out. You hate to admit it, but you were quite the spoiled child. Never receiving more than a gentle chide from your parents and always silver-spooned to the nines by your grandparents. The truck was an exception. More of a parting gift from your grandfather that was left to you for the sole purpose of memorabilia scored into every inch of the tarnished vehicle. You hope that Keegan is capable of fixing it since most parts were made by discontinued distributors and they were definitely not easy to come by as they were expensive.

"Christ, spoiled rotten, weren't ya?" He ribs, nudging you a bit and you frown at him.

"Was not." You childlessly retort, but the small smile on your face betrays your feeble attempt at contempt.

Fuck, she is so cute. Keegan thinks as he assimilates your hilly yet winsome appearance. Just as cute as he remembers when he was seventeen, ignorant of the malignancy that poisoned his father's lungs.

"Not as much as your daddy spoiled you." You shoot back and cover your mouth with your hands as his brows lift in half surprise and half revelry.

"Blair's got jokes now, huh?" The elicitive nickname indicative of your former years sends another rushing warmth to your face and you begin to shoo him out.

"I'd really like to be clean now, thank you." You cast a scowl his way and he's putting his hands up in surrender as he backs out of the bathroom followed by the bedroom.

"I take it that the lady needs her privacy now." He leans against the doorframe with his hands stuffed into his denim jean pockets that are dusty and darkened with wood ash and the smell of the campfire lingers on his skin.

"And her beauty sleep." You add on, folding your arms. His jacket is still resting over your shoulders and he chuckles at your Hello Kitty print socks. The way your hair was mussed up in the soft glow of the lantern lamp on the night table was starting to arouse him a bit.

Fuckkkkkk, you were so adorable. It might have taken every atom in his body not to bend you over the mattress and spank you for being such a dotty woman before pressing his cock past your velvety folds as he makes you apologize in the form of incoherent, dirty little whimpers.

But the thought is quickly dismissed as it's formed in the sullied cogitations of his mind.

"Good night, [name]." He murmurs in his husky voice yet there is a hint of mischief in his tone that sends a frisson up your spinal column.

"Good night, Keegan." You susurrate, as you slowly shut the door and his expression remains the same as your view of him narrows until it disappears behind the threshold.

"Christ." You mutter to yourself as you begin to get ready for bed, as you feel the rush of collywobbles in your stomach start to well up a craving for the cowboy. The time on your cracked phone screen reads 2:03 AM and a wave of exhaustion crashes over you at the realization. Had you really been out there for seven hours?

The warm water soothes your aching bones and forming scabs scattered across your body as you gently exfoliate your skin. Thankfully, Keegan had enough sense to drop off a first aid kit by your door before you slipped into the bath. You weren't looking forward to the sting of the antiseptic, but you were more than grateful to be alive and have all your limbs attached. As you close your eyes and let the sudsy bath take away your worries, a coaxing voice is entrancing you. At first, it begins as a hushed lull intermingled with what sounds like your name and a bit of white noise that makes your brain all fuzzy and warm, but it becomes audible. Forming coherent luring words that resemble Keegan's deep, raspy voice.

Drown, drown, drown.

And you promptly find yourself submerging into the tub and the stillness of the water is subduing, but something is instigating you to open your eyes. You push away the thought, taking in the tranquility, settling into the comforting sensation of weightlessness. And yet, the feeling is not leaving you. You internally sigh as you move your body to the surface, but you remain dormant. Your eyes shoot open and your blood runs cold.

Above is one of the most fear-inducing creatures that you have ever laid your eyes upon holding you down on either side of your shoulders with slender claws digging into your flesh. It resembles a caribou skull with elongated antlers but its eyes were a violent vermillion that penetrates your soul. Its body was dark, rickety, and harrowing. Bones astute against the matted onyx fur and its tongue hanging out of his jaw like it was ready to devour you. Panic surges through your veins as you thrash about but it drives its talons further into your skin and you shriek out in pain. Water enters your lungs, your heart is stammering at cardiac arrest speed and you're choking out for dear life. This is it. This is how you die and the worst part about it is, you couldn't even call out for hope from the man who saved you just moments ago.

But just as you're accepting your fate, the muffled sound of a gunshot pierces through the air and within seconds the skinwalker is incapacitated and then dead. Soon enough, you're being hoisted out by Keegan's strong hands, as you cling onto him naked, wet, and heaving for oxygen.

Water expels out from your esophagus and you're trembling even harder than you were before when he found you, grasping to him and he's immediately talking you down.

"It's alright, you're okay. You're okay." He soothes, one hand tenderly caressing your soddened hair and the other is gripping your body tight as he pulls you out of the tub. He wastes no time unplugging the drain and wrapping you in a large towel to cover your naked body. In all seriousness, Keegan didn't even take a second to gander at your naked form when he was gathering you out of the tub and he makes that clear that his sole objective was to eliminate the wendigo that trespassed into your sanctuary.

He could've sworn that he had locked up every single opening in the house as he does every single night. It was like clockwork to him ever since his father had shown him the ropes to the place.

"…Kee-keegan." You splutter out as you continue to clutch onto him and your body is saturating him with water. He doesn't care though, that was the least of his worries. Your eyes are reaming and glossy as you dare to peek down at the creature that was seconds away from letting you meet your maker, but there's nothing but ash on the tiled floor.

"It was—" You begin, peering up at his harking steely eyes and his jaw tightens.

"It's gone."

"I don't understand." You shake your head, trying to make sense of what just happened, but the soft clatter of the rifle hitting the bathroom counter delineates your scattered mind. "Oh. But—"

"Get dressed." He softly prompts and you shakily let go of his t-shirt and he hands you an eggshell-colored peignoir as he averts his gaze. He's cognizant of the post-distress and panic you're in, so makes no indication of reallocating himself away from you as you slip on the fabric nor does he provide an explanation for what just occurred.

And to be honest, you didn't want to know. There was nothing more disturbing than the encounter with death in the form of a mutated caribou that leaves you shaken up. Everything just seemed too difficult to wrap your little head around, so let him take care of you.

A fresh towel is on your head, soaking up the wetness tangled into your hair and you relax at his balmy touch.

"Thank you." You mutter as your eyes are cast downward, eyeing the imbued, darkened spots on his nightshirt.

He delicately hooks his index finger and thumb between your chin and lifts it upward as he dabs at your features with the towel. And then it lingers. His intense yet pensive gaze, his stout calloused thumb that is now brushing against your jaw shortly followed by your quivering bottom lip. His jaw ticks.

"I'll sleep in here tonight."

Your heart jumps rampantly against your chest. "What?"

"You almost died if it weren't for me."

"Yes, but it's not—!" You fall short of words yet again and you're tearing your gaze away from him. As dire as the situation was (and it was), Keegan cannot help himself from being just the tiniest bit entertained by your endearing little mannerisms.

"I'm not gonna sleep next to you in bed." He deadpans. Normally, he would let you stumble over your words, but exhaustion is seeping into his bones and even as a noceur himself he was in desperate need of some z's. "The armchair over there quite comfy."

You follow his eyes to the brown leather recliner that was beside the bed and then back to him.

"I'm tired, Keegan." You profess, leaning your head against his chest and he's absentmindedly rubbing circles into the small of your back.

"I know."

Typically, you wouldn't be this comfortable with a stranger but given the unusual circumstances that were currently trying to slaughter your ass, you found yourself seeking solace in him.

"Let's get you into bed."

And soon he's leading you back to the bedroom, his hand is still on the small of your back as you walk on wobbly legs. He peels off the comforter and you sink into the mattress feeling like royalty in your crisp, clean nightgown, in your large princess-like bed, surrounded by plush pillows as the light in the lantern flickers. It casts shadows over his dashing features. The flame turns his glacial eyes into a soft apricot and an expression flickers over his visage—concern.

He's harping over your safety and the intruder that happened to bypass his heavily guarded home. No tripped wires, no movement detected on his cameras, and not to mention not a single sound was made until he heard your thrashing in his room across the hall. If he hadn't been there in time—

"You saved me, though." You drone, shutting your eyes as you tuck yourself into the cotton sheets.

His hardened glare softens at your words and how you look at ease now. A testament to your full, unshakeable faith in him. God, you were so quick to trust, it honestly scared him a little for you.

He scoffs. "How can you be so sure that I wouldn't hurt you?"

"Because your father would resurrect and beat the absolute shit out of you if you even dared to think about harming me." You state with a sly smirk on your face.

Keegan's expression briefly falters before he lets out a snicker, acknowledging the truth in your bold proclamation. "Crafty little critter, aren't ya?"

You giggle as shift under the sheets. It's almost a bit disturbing how you are seemingly fine and brushing off the situation. "Maybe."

He peers down at you for a moment and the welcoming feeling of your radiance starts to crawl into his chest. Almost like you were right where you needed to be, in his home, in his bed under his safeguarding. He wants nothing more than that. It's almost a bit perturbing how you are seemingly fine.

"Go to sleep." You mumble.

"You go to sleep."

"No, you first,"

"Who else is going to shield you against creatures of the night?"

You pause for a moment. "Good point."

He smiles as he walks over to the armchair, gun propped up against his left leg as he sits to face you. You're already curling up in a ball, and your chest rises and falls at a tranquil pace.

"Good night, Blair." He feels his eyes drooping as his vision becomes bleary.

You chuckle at the idiotic nickname. "Good night, Cowboy."

The remnants of tiny, foolish smiles are left on your faces as you drift off to sleep in your respective spaces. The last passing thought that crosses your mind is Keegan's tender gaze and his fingers brushing against your lips. Keegan wonders what is making you so giddy before the world around him fades out.

As morning breaks, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the room. The spring breeze wafts into the wisps of your hair and your eyes flutter open. The seat in front of you is now empty and the balcony door is wide open, and yet you're calm as you rise out of bed. Birds are chirping and the incessant droning of cicadas buzzing loudly against your eardrums is merely white noise when you recognize the low rumble of your truck's engine pulling up. There is an urgency that surges within you and soon you're sprinting out the door, and the heat of the cobblestone stings at the soles of your feet but you don't care.

The engine cuts and Keegan climbs out of the truck, sleeves rolled up in his army green henley, and he's wearing a clean pair of relaxed, light-wash jeans that skim the leather of his Tecovas. He peers up at you with wintry hues, tipping his hat, and in that instant, you're transported back to your childhood—Mr. Russ, tipping his hat with those same eyes and that glorious smile that always made your heart race.

The resemblance was both striking and uncanny, but damn, you were totally not complaining.

"Mornin', little lady. You're up quite early." He puts his hands on his hips and he's no longer the stone-faced, vendetta-filled Cowboy that you met last night. He's your friendly Appalachian Cowboy who provides you the sweet, sweet southern hospitality with a charming smile and a bit of a North Carolinian twang that sets your groins on fire.

"Mornin', Cowboy. Fixed my truck, did you?" You lean against the French iron wrought railing with your ruffled hair and white nightgown, rippling in the slight draft that carries the healing scent of sage and lavender. The fabric forms around your body and Keegan notices how it traces the outline of your curves and how the sun is hitting you just perfect enough for you to look like a literal angel.

But it's still the unrelenting, disconcerting feeling that creeps up on him when he looks up at you so unbothered, airheaded with that buoyant grin on your face. Was it really just a facade?

"Fixed it good enough for you to get back on your way." He turns from you to the truck and then back to you. "By the way, where were you headed?"

"Back to the old man." You cross your leg over the other, waiting for his response. He watches as the skin of your legs peeks out from under the peignoir and it's a bit enticing.

"I didn't contact him if that's what you're askin'" His hand acts like a sun visor to block the light out of his sensitive eyes to take a good gander at you.

"I would hope not. Don't need to send him into cardiac arrest." You joke and you see his shoulders shaking a bit, suggesting a chuckle.

"Made you breakfast."

"Yeah?" You simper, leaning a little more against the railing.

He can't help the way his grin broadens as he peers up at your flirty form. "Careful now, can't have you comin' back home with a broken neck, can we?"

Shit. Shit. Shiiiiit.

Goddamn him and his pretty face. He's already heading inside as you're locking in on him, but Keegan isn't one to give you the satisfaction. He'll play the long game and he'll enjoy every minute of it. From the way you're sitting next to him at the table with your dress bunched up to your thighs to the way you sensually lick your spoon covered with cream and he's internally chuckling at the mess you've made on the corners of your lips, feigning gullibility to get a rise out of him. Admittedly, it's hot. He wants nothing more than to lick your fingers clean and sloppily kiss your sweet cream-laden lips.

Mmmm.

He doesn't say anything. Just enjoys his breakfast and keeps his gaze lowered like a gentleman. The company of a beautiful woman is enough for him on a fine Sunday morning like this.

You can only wonder what he's thinking as you act like a giddy schoolgirl who's trying to get the attention of her professor. Not that you had a significant age gap with Keegan, but in his original line of work there was a massive lapse. Being a retired Marine had probably mentally aged him over give or take 10 years would have been your best guess. And leaving the farm to his cousins in his absence probably impacted him even more, well, according to your gossip girl of a father at least.

He made trips down to NC every so often to check on his favorite, reclusive cowboy, sometimes tending to his facilities when need be. You never tagged along though. In your mind, you were a city girl who didn't mind dressing up as a cowgirl if she saw fit. So coming down from your city job, in the comfort of your sweet loft that overlooked the NOVA skyline didn't exactly make you miss the Appalachia trails.

Still, it is nice being back here with a somewhat familiar stranger in a home you had only seen the outside of because, for the majority of your life, you had so desperately tried to force out the rural in you. Call it toxic, but leaving the mountains always felt like the haze had lifted from your brain. It was unsettling to be here for too long.

"You're nervous."

You glance up from the runny eggs that you have been working on for the past twenty minutes. You give him a sheepish grin. "This place makes me nervous."

"Itching to go back to the city, huh?"

That elicits a small chuckle from you. "And what do you know about me?"

"Well, according to your father," He says in a knowing tone and you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a coy smile. "you love the city too much to move back."

"I don't think I'm too good for it. Here, I mean."

"Didn't say that. The Appalachia isn't for everyone." He butters his toast and then munches on it and soon it vanishes into his mouth. The night before is washed away from your memory, but Keegan loses track of his thoughts as he stares at the leftover jagged lines embedded into your skin from a creature that he knew you wanted to forget. A glance at his watch and he's up, wiping his hands and mouth with the serviette that was on his lap before he places it on the table. "You ready?"

"You got somewhere to be?" You raise your brows, not quite ready to leave yet.

"Matter o'fact I gotta date with an employee from Tractor Supply Co in about an hour, and it's thirty minutes out."

"New livestock?" You sip at your coffee.

A sad smile graces his lips. "Yeah, my last eldest cattle just passed away a few weeks ago."

You frown. "I'm sorry."

For a moment you swear you saw him get teary-eyed, but he quickly shakes himself out of the grief, grabbing his keys as he downs his glass of ice water. He stops himself for a moment as you get up to push your chair in and he can't help himself from tracing his fingers over the claw marks on either side of your shoulders. You shudder from the remembrance and his touch.

"[name]," He starts to express but your mood sours.

"Stop."

His expression falters and so does his hand as he lets it drop to his side. You didn't want to remember any of it. He notices how you clutch onto your necklace and he drops the subject.

"Your trucks waiting." He takes your hand and deposits the keys into your palm.

You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you."

You begin to approach your truck and you feel relief washing over you as you run your hand over the tarnished, rusted hood of the Dodge before you open the driver door. As you climb in you notice that all your belongings remain untouched. Scattered cassette tapes, polaroids, and the little Hawaiian girl that swayed with every movement still plastered onto the dash. The leather seats seem to have abrasions, revealing the cushion beneath, but you write it off as a bear maybe deciding to try and access your vehicle after you had abandoned it.

"…[name], ….[name]….!"

You're snapped out of your stupor, recollecting your thoughts as you glance over at him leaning his body against your truck. "I checked the vehicle, it's all clear for you to go. Should make it back alright."

"Why wouldn't it be if you fixed the engine?"

The look you give him is blank, free from concern and any worry that may have been left on your face from last night.

He nods, pushing his hands into his jean pockets. "Right, well, it was nice seeing you all grown up."

That provokes a reaction. Heat is rising to your cheeks and Keegan is standing there looking cool as ever as he takes off his hat and wipes the sweat off his brow before putting it back on.

"Thank you." You say with more feeling, only your eyes acknowledging the horrors of last night. And that's enough for Keegan.

"You take care now." He tips his hat with a good-natured grin and you snicker at his little cowboy bit.

He waves to you as you back out of his driveway and you glance over from your rearview mirror as his towering figure disappears and so does any anamnesis from the evening prior. Or at least, you told yourself that.

And that was April. Months have gone by and Keegan doesn't exactly expect you to keep in contact. He's even surprised to hear a, '[name], says hello, by the way.' from your father during their weekly check-in.

And he definitely does not expect to see your truck in his driveway when he's coming back from milking his cows for the day with his new set of eyes that's in dog form, wagging her tail in anticipation as she sits.

"German Shepherd, eh? Suits you." You simper at him, leaning against the pillar of his home with glossy lips, and a cutesy red paisley swing dress that just barely covers your thighs. Your boots are hardly broken in as they dig into the grassy field and your hair is a little disheveled in an endearing way.

"Name's Miley." He peels off his gloves, shoving them into his back pocket. He's completely taken aback by your sudden presence, though he's not one to complain about a pretty lady showing up at his door.

"Hey, Miley." You coo, holding your hand to her and she's immediately reciprocating your energy tenfold as she jumps up and down, causing you to giggle and pet her soft fur.

Keegan doesn't even need to say anything as he glances down at the German Shepherd and she's already sitting on the ground between you two.

"Miss me?" You ask, coyly.

"Could ask you the same thing, Blair." He tilts his head to the side, eyeing you suspiciously. Something was off.

"I was just in town."

"Uh huh."

It doesn't take long before the act drops and distress is carving into your features. Lips are trembling in fear as your eyes begin to water.

"Something's been following me, Keegan." Your body naturally falls against his chest and his breath hitches a bit at your contact and the smell of your perfume wafts into his senses.

Fuck.

mini taglist: @keegansshark @soapsgf @milkteaarttime

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chiyoso · 9 months

Note

Okay here me out...... If you could fuck Aeons...... Nanook

A WARLORD'S SOLITUDE

nanook, an eldritch, ancient mystery of destruction, had been playing as the puppeteer of death all over the continent since ancient times. a being, involved in the horrors of the world with one simple goal; to destroy and decay life. however, the day he decided to wreak havoc, his eyes wavered at the sight of a familiar figure, you.

ა content warnings. reincarnated lover reader · immortal god au · reader is implied as female · mentions of death and destruction · mature content · he gets hard at the end for you lmao · nanook goes by he/him in this fic · dead dove.

ა author notes. this wasn't smut (sry anon), but i did cook something. wc estimated to be 2k above?? not proofread and edited thoroughly cos this shit was made at 3am.

You couldn't be more mesmerized.

The dread in his face couldn't compare to the ones that witnessed his glorious, aurate form.

He was brilliant, a transcendent being, and he was an Aeon who was filled with mixed emotions of fear, love and confusion.

He looked more terrified than the mortals that ran for their lives beneath his wavering gaze, as the lustrous, golden irises landed upon a creature whose familiarity was certain, and it had shook the Aeon's core deeply.

The divine being was left with intensifying feelings of fear, his chest dripping with golden liquid, leaving out of him just like his shaky breath.

You were there, standing and taking witness to the golden-colored darkness, taking in a situation that will be left recorded in the history books. Your eyes hover and dilate upon a figure that was twice the size of a mountain, the once blue and calm moon that illuminated the world, was now enveloped with a golden hue, assumingly so from the revered Aeon's sudden appearance.

You trembled at the sight of the renounced being that was loathed, feared and looked down upon — but you didn't feel fear, you felt undeniably drawn to its sudden presence in an artistic way, you were always quite an explorer. Your fear of the unknown made your surroundings feel uneasy about you, a beautiful human, that was filled of eccentricness.

In your trembling hands were a coal-tip pen and a thin book with contents of your accumulated sketches, you couldn't hear the deafening screaches of terror as the crowd runs to the opposite of where you were walking towards, it was art or nothing.

It was either to create a masterpiece for future artists to take and witness, or nothing.

Nothing mattered except the heavenly sight that was bestowed upon your eyes in this moment, you were transfixed, in awe, as your irises gloss upon the gold that was within his dark complexion, his long braids that destroyed an ecosystem in mere seconds and beneath him was that of a crater.

You continued to stare at the giant, drunk with inspiration — his golden, translucent, and glowing eyes, filled with a confusion of depair reeling you in deeper as you wondered about that seemed uncharacteristic of an Aeon, but you didn't dwell long on the thought as your hands starting to move on its own, beginning to draw your heart out while your head kept glancing back and forth repeatedly towards the coal-filled page and godlike piece you were drawing, your feet, bringing you to him as you continued to draw, unfortunately, you were finally deemed crazy by the people running for their lives, momentarily eyeing your actions, bringing them a millisecond of confusion, before continuing to sprint from the grasps of death.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! RUN DAMMIT!”

One said looking over to you with a mixture of panic and anger in his expression, his volume of voice minimizing as he ran away from the deathly scene. People continued to run from the hauntingly glorious sight, pushing one another in a panicked flurry, the sounds of their stomping, shaking the earth.

A majority of eyes had forced themselves onto you, physiques mostly dodging your still body in their attempt of preservation for their loves, except when—“F-... Fuck!” A person from your village knocked into you, resulting in your book of sketches, falling down onto the dirt as a wave of feet stomped on it repeatedly.

A turbulent of emotions raged within your heart, the feelings of heartache and despair surfacing physically as your eyes glisten with tears, bringing a hand to your mouth with shock from the thought of years of progress and creation, crumbling to dust with such a simple yet cruel act.

Nanook reacted to the spectacle, the sight of your grimace in your face, snapping him out of his thoughts, his protective instincts kicking in as the tip of his finger reaches out towards your direction, his burning ambers on the sight of the village — or more specifically, the man whom caused you pain.

A striking sharp sound ensued from the heavens, the nightly sky flickering with a golden hue repeatedly, the dark sky was like a canvas as lighting marks decorated the ether. You reacted, raising your head towards the source of the noise, your glistening eyes glimmered at the event, causing your despair to a sudden halt, replaced with excitement and artistic intuition from the ethereal sight before your eyes.

Suddenly, golden rays of light from the heavens came crashing down vertically towards the earth with intense velocity and speed, raining glorious hellfire upon the land surrounding you with a blinding light that forced you to cover your eyes. Even then, you were beyond satisfied with the thought of dying to such a disaster, it was a beautiful chaos.

The art before you made you speechless, and it filled your heart and mind with bliss as you feel the heat surrounding you closing in, the light almost engulfing and grazing your skin.

You were ready, you were happy and satisfied to perish within a beautiful aurora of gold.

You liar.

A deafening silence followed shortly after the intense, crackling sounds of power and despair. Confusion welled up inside you as you were still able to feel the nightly breeze grazing your skin, hugging your form, trembling in the sudden dread of cold air lapped around you.

You open your eyes slowly, reluctantly, revealing a gorey sight, a field of grim and lifeless art surrounding you. The hateful village that you once knew, had fallen apart, a future ruin that is now left as a remnant for future inhabitants of the world, a fragment of a history laid to waste by the Aeon of Destruction, who stayed and proved true to his myth.

“You're not real,” the Aeon, who bathed and dripped in gold, voiced out with a solemn, shaky tone.

The once giant of a man that shook the earth, was now of a size of a human adult male, and he was walking towards you, the gold from his figure and his steps, dripped down on the bloodied floor of lifeless bodies, leaving a trail of golden liquid before stopping just respectfully before you.

How could you possibly react to the situation at hand? Such a destructive, force of nature, shakily uttering your name with undertone of despair, the sight of his beautiful, ornate eyes dilating, studying you, memorizing you.

Myths that you had a hard time believing from your continuous torment from others, praying and hoping to be enlightened and saved— now being preyed upon with such power under his watchful gaze.

“H-How did you-” You voice cracked, heavy confusion accompanied with slight fear were apparent in your whole being.

How did he know your name? Why were you alive? Why was he looking at you this way? Why did I only get spared?

You continued to overthink, your mind racing with thoughts.

The great Nanook, who painted your only home in red and ashes.

The great Nanook, who inflicted countless of deaths, disasters and terror since the beginning of time. He was the true form of destruction and despair himself.

Yet, that gaze... It wasn't befitting of a God.

Nanook looked at you with such an almost unrecognizable look, unfathomable emotions in his eyes, wavering at the sight of you, his beautifully constructed face faltered into the depths of similar to a heartache, weeping in gold within his eyes while the memories from his over lived lifetime continue to hit him like a celestial disaster that would engulf the whole world, his whole world... being you.

The you who was so familiar to him, the you that would bring back countless memories about love wnd happiness, the you who left within his arms in your previous life eons ago, the light in your eyes leaving, dreading him from ever loving again. Reincarnation was a mystery even to destruction himself, some would reincarnate after death, some would take millennium, eons, or a lifetime.

And yet, there you were, a fragment of himself, and he felt whole again, witnessing such a miracle, seeing you again, so close yet so far to him.

“Aeon,” you called out to him in a hushed voice, your face filled with confusion and fear replaced with concern and worry because your gaze landed upon the golden liquid, cascading down from his saddened eyes.

Nanook, flinched to your voice, the sound reverberating within his ears, causing his heart to flutter to your dearly missed chords.

It was different, but it was yours.

He'd only stiffen up, dilating irises staring longingly into yours, having intense, overwhelming feelings of confusion, aching, a deep longing for none other than you.

You weren't the her that he knew, but you were still the soul that he ached for and cherished. He brought a hand to his head, exhaling short, heavy breaths instead of audibly sobbing despite the golden tears that stained his cheeks.

The Aeon was both smitten and terrified at the sight of you, his eyes glossing over every feature that existed before his eyes, cherishing every millisecond with you. He took several deep breaths, composing himself before taking another step forward to you.

“D- Don't come any closer-...” You said in a panic, taking a step back simultaneously as fear began to creep back within you again.

“Please...” You continued, your voice starting to tremble, you had expected him to not listen, since, he was after all—a being of decay and havoc, but instead, you witness him flinch to your words, his heart shattering from your desire to make him stay disganced, retracting his reaching hand from you and standing in place as he stares at you with a visible faint frown.

“Do you... Do you know me?” You asked, steadying your quickened breath as you steel your gaze towards him, looking for answers, keenly observing his body language and facial features with the accumulated skill you had as an artist.

Nanook was silent for a few long moments, taking deep shaky breaths, he was starting to calm as well, finding solace in your voice, savoring it this time more intensely, not wanting to part from the existence of you again.

“It... It matters not flowe-”

“It does, and you know it.”

You cut him off without missing a beat, your courage returning, confident that he won't be able to hurt you—having that identified from the way he was acting.

The firmness of your tone accompanied with your unwavering gaze, caused him to look away to the side, his cheeks beginning to heat.

It was all so closely familiar to him, the way your voice rang with a firm, fearless tone, the way you would hold your ground in every situation even if risked your precious life, the way he knew of your unquenchable curiousity and wonder, the way your plump lips frowned to him, as fragments of memories continue to overwhelm him, flickering in his mind.

“Aeon Nanook,” you called out to him again but with alias name, echoes of his name replaced the silence with no response from him.

He couldn't respond.

Instinctively, you began to pace forward to him as your curiousity began to grow—remembering the spectacle before this situation, on how the air filled with an aurora of gold, the air, filled with shimmering particles of the same color that was flowing all over his body, his well carved, toned and physique that you couldn't help but glance to it every now and then, your womanly and artistic senses battling each other in your internal struggle

And the nickname for you? Flower? Why does he act in such a manner? What does he—

“You are aware of my prominence and alias, yet you continue to call me by my title,” he'd intercept your thoughts, trying to sound like his normal, glorious self, but the sight of you accompanied by your voice was too much for his fluttering heart, the beads of his sweat trickled along his neck, the darkened hue all over his cheeks that had spread to his ears the moment you stepped several paces closer towards the higher being—and that confused, but intrigued you even more.

The latter was winning.

“Then,” you said, before stopping before him, a safe yet risky distance as the gap between was far more lesser.

“Your eminence, Nanook of Destruction...” he stiffened as you call out to him, simultaneously placing a hand to your chest, your gaze locked and piercing as your fear completely diminishes from your body, replaced with overwhelming curiousity, and determination.

“Forgive me for my insolence, but if I were to die, I'd rather be informed,”

He could never hurt you.

“You have spared me, even upon laying waste on the land I once called my home, your brilliant attacks managing to—not once, move towards my way,” you've arrived just infront of him, a genuine frustration apparent in your expression.

“Why.”

The toughness of the situation may have affected your senses right now, but you could have sworn you heard him curse under his breath seeing his mouth part slightly, his bangs covering his face as he tilted his flushed face down, but you didn't dwell on it further as you were brimming with a desire for questions.

The blush remained on his face, his eyes narrowing to you, causing you to retract back a few steps away, the reality returning to you that you were current demanding a being far from the mortal grasp, your grasp.

You didn't know, but his head spun from the flood of emotions and memories of the past, and your actions tipped him over the edge, causing him to get drunk with overwhelming love, affection and lust for you, the golden liquid all over him starting to boil, looking towards the earth beneath the both of you.

He was reduced to a weak man as of right now.

“I...” He cleared his throat, his gaze returning to yours as his body language tells you all kinds of information, and dammit, everything was an itch to your brain as to how illogical the situation was.

“Flower...” There it is again.

“You wouldn't believe m-”

“I speak with an individual who is considered to be a myth at the moment, try me,” you interrupted again, showing the firmness of your question and decision, and he was so absolutely smitten by you once more, falling in love all over with you again, a personality that he missed so much, causing his heart to blare, interrupting his internal thoughts, thoughts of how to answer you.

You then take a step forward once more, your eyes never leaving his, and if you walked two more paces, towards him, you would've been within his personal space, not that he would mind.

“A supreme being, speaking to me as if I were someone dear to you, sparing me from the demise of your powerful feats. A manifested concept of destruction, gazing—carrying this heavy tone similarly to a man who's utterly lovesick towards a maiden he admires from afar.”

You weren't far from the truth.

You then narrow your eyes to him, closing the distance once more with one more step, looking up to the towering sunlight of a man before you.

“Forgive me talking in such a way that would invoke discomfort towards you, but I want to address the illogical problem—you continuing to call me a name like I am a person so familiar and so close to you.” At this point, he couldn't hide the flush in his face anymore from the almost closeness between you two.

You're just so...

Nanook continued to gaze downwars to you, listening to every word you're saying intently, your strong will, courage and curiousity that he was all too familiar with, finding you absolutely adorable and alluring—but he won't admit that, at least not for now.

“Reincarnation, my flower. It is because you are, familiar,” he took a deep breath, lowering his gaze.

“So very familiar and known to me...” his voice trails, you noticing the trembling of his lips.

You were so, so close.

He bathed in your familiar scent that was addicted to before, and taking a whiff of it after so long, he seemed drugged, dazed wnd intoxicated.

His eyes starting to haze as well as his mind, savoring the closeness of the two of you. His dazed, loving gaze continued to study and savor you like a revered, famous artwork, amused by the visible disbelief and contempt on your expression that he caused.

You felt out of touch from the emotions you were experiencing, every emotion you were feeling were so foreign to you, and it was a scary yet thrilling experience.

You didn't want to melt to the nickname he kept calling you, you didn't want to react to his sweet, rich voice, talking to you like you were the best thing in his whole, supreme existence, but your body betrayed you, showing the faintest hint of a blush, starting to show.

You didn't process the information he uttered out to you, you couldn't, and you didn't want to, even if you knew it wasn't a lie, since it came from an Aeon especially.

The fact that you knew the meaning behind his body language, the way you tried being oblivious to his facial expressions, his flushed out face, and the way his gaze would make you feel so special and wanted.

You didn't want to come to a correct conclusion, you didn't want logic to... logic. Perhaps some other Aeon of Life and Death were playing a sick game towards the both of you.

The astronomical luck of this Aeon, as well as yours, meeting you in this era, this lifetime, was most, most absurb.

You couldn't fanthom it, and the thought of being intimate with such a destructive force of a being like him, doing all of those things together.

Fuck, you then quickly turn around from him, feeling your cheeks grow hot, resulting in Nanook to jolt, your actions bringing him back to reality as your back was now faced towards him.

He has killed and ceased many souls, he has caused endless death and destruction for eons and eons of his existence, his sole purpose was and is to take and destroy, being a puppeteer to his Emanators and subjects who did his deeds for him. He was a feared and revered being, he is a glorious, beautiful being whom destroyed your village, he would most likely continue to lay destruction if it hadn't been for you, and—

Your mind contined to wander about, your cheeks continuing to feel hot as the red tint finally revealed itself, spreading to your ears.

“Flower—?”

“Why... Why do you continue to call me that—!”

You hissed, your voice came out high pitched, reducing the aggressive tone you originally wanted, but you couldn't help it, you were feeling yourself fluster further for the wrong reasons.

“I- I don't know you... I can't perceive you in such ways,” you say meekly, lowering the volume of your voice.

Hm?—“What ways, do you speak about flower?”

The Aeon mused, walking to your side, tilting his body down and taking a glimpse of what was happening, the moment he saw your mirrored blush, he felt more alive than he already is as his lips curl into a faint smirk, placing his hand onto the top of your head, rubbing your head gently and affectionately, and since he knew you through and through, he most definitely knew you were in denial about the facts that even you yourself didn't want to accept, because you were such a smart woman, such a lovely, lovely intelligent woman whom he cherished dearly.

He would've included you within his golden auroras of death if he wanted to harm you. He would've already killed you even after you somehow escape from the attack if he wanted to. He wouldn't be patting your head so lovingly if he wanted to cause you pain. Why would you let him touch your hair even? Why did you want to get closer to him? Why would he—

“Love,” He muttered to you, not realizing his mouth was near your ear, causing shivers down your spine as a soft yelp escapes your mouth in shock from the new cute name along with his actions.

“Shall I continue to inform you? I assume your... thoughts are currently running with a vast amount of things, correct me if I'm wrong,”

His usage of coyness only continued, having your confidence wavered—intentions of breaking that wall of strength, just like him when you managed to tame him.

“You can resist me,” the hand from the top of your head currently wasnow tracing down along your nape, his thumb brushing along your skin, the warming of your skin being felt as your cheeks burn further.

He certainly knew how to make you feel, he'd know how to rile you up, whether it'd be wholesomely, or sinfully, he knew you through and through, at least—the soul harboring the current body of yours that is, and all that could be achieved by none other than him, and him only.

“Nanook...” You call to him, soft and vulnerable, turning your head towards him, revealing your uncontrolled reddened face, your expression trying to not show any signs of weakness to him.

His gaze softened further, the sight of you causing him to chuckle as his deep, rich laughter felt so pleasing to your ears, not helping you in your situation.

“Even-... Even if I was reincarnated as you said, I-I don't know you,” he moved closer, needing to hear you, wanting to hear you.

“At- At least not like in the life that you and I were...” You attempt to look away, your face sunken, dusted with a deep, visible blush, showing such a side that spiked Nanook's heart rate, along with yours

Neither of you were dumb, nor ignorant.

Both of you were intelligent enough to know that there was a lingering air of attraction and warmth surrounding the two of you, despite the you in this lifetime not knowing absolutely anything about him, be it his personality, the intimacy you two shared, and what you cherished most, emotional vulnerability.

The thought of being lovers, being so heavily intimate with such an attractive, powerful being left you pondering deeplyyou, making you wonder about all kinds of things as your cheeks remained heavily flushed.

You then flinch, the feeling of his hand formerly on your nape, now moving down towards your lower back, wrapping his hand to your curves, gently and sensually caressing it.

“You're right,” His other hand then reaches up to your chin, making you face him as his face grows near to yours.

“And yet... you aren't resisting my advances as of this moment, why is that?” He hummed, his smirk remaining on his face, knowing he caused your head to spin and fluster you into the depths of warmth and affection, but he was also absolutely experiencing euphoria along with you, experiencing so much happiness and warmth from your familiar presence that had always had such a strong effect on him.

He was acting coy and smug, masking that unconditional, unwavering deep love and affection that he had for you, previously buried until forgotten, except his all of his weaknesses began to starting to resurface, having trouble discerning if it was good or bad, but—the only thing that felt good, was him basking in delight from your presence again.

He was right though, why weren't you rejecting his touches? His forward advances? The way your cheeks would flush deeper he speaks in such a loving tone that caused your heart rate to spike its pace, the way he would brush his thumb across your chin as he held it, gazing lovingly upon your face with a warm smile that you almost melted to.

He most definitely saw you before this whole situation erupted, he saw your familiar eccentricity, he saw the way your eyes gleamed whilet you passionately drew your heart away to the sight of him, he saw the familiar wonder and the way your eyes would shimmer, seeing him in the reflection in your eyes amongst the chaos he previously cause, and... since you assume he knew you through and through.

Does that mean he accepts you?

“Does this mean you accept me?”

You thought aloud, your lips parting to say your uncontrollable thoughts as your eyes continue to gloss over his face, emotions welling up within you.

He accepted you before then? He accepted the way you are? He accepted the parts where you yourself loathed along with the people who casted looks of disdain and unease to you? He accepted the you that was true and weird? All your flaws, and he loves m—?

“And love you, yes.” His words interrupting your thoughts simultaneously, gently pulling your face closer to his with his fingers, his warm breath grazing upon your trembling lips as he smiled so warmly and affectionately towarss you.

“You may not know me in this life, you may not know who I am from within, but believe me when I say this,” He then leaned forward, tilting down his body to match your height, thus presses his lips against your forehead, his soft and warm lips lingering for a few long moments before reluctantly pulling back.

“I have made a promise to you since then, that if I had ever encounter your lovely soul once more and that I have—even in another lifetime, the next one after that, and until my existence is eradicated from existence, until then, I would make you mine. Over and over and over,”

“Do you understand me, love?”

“That... and is there a problem with getting to know me again?” He added, coyly, affection imminent, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, staring at it with an intense loving gaze, biting his own as love filled lustful thoughts seeped into his mind, reminiscing the memories of intimacy.

Ah, his cock underneath pulsed, twitching slightly under his white drapes from the reaction of your lips. Your quivering, plump lips were already moist just by his touch, as a soft whimper escaped your mouth from the heavily intimate gesture he was demonstrating to you.

Your took a sharp, shaky inhale from his loving, impactful words. You didn't know this man, you didn't had anyone look at you, care for you, love you, cherish you, look at you in such a way that everything started to feel blocked out. It was only you and him that existed in the both of your spaces.

The both of your hands travel to his wrist, moving his hand towards your cheek, closing your eyes as you savor and melt into his palm, his thumb continuing to rub against your moist lips.

“You're beautiful, you are.” His pupils turned into hearts just looking at your own gesture, accepting his advances and the intimacy between the two of you.

“You really, really are,” bathed in affection and warmth, an unspoken agreement of a certain love and lust filled and surrounded the two of you.

A vast majority wished to experience the intensifying love these two had, despite their heavy, heavy differences. A mortal, and an Aeon, the Aeon of Destruction in specific. It was a bizzare sight again.

The ground shook, a rumbling was heard in the distance, your moment of loving was cut short, interrupted, as sounds of yelling in the distance catches both of your attention, turning both of your heads to the source of the noise with annoyance and confusion, only to realize the people whom worshipped under other Aeons, a faction whom dedicated themselves to destroy anything and everything about the path of destruction, arrived with an overwhelming multitude of armies, shaking the soil both of you stood on as the skies above them also had soaring fleets, moving towards you and the Aeon.

Nanook's eyes narrowed in annoyance, clicking his tongue to the sight, extending his hands towards the direction of the interruption in an instinct as the golden liquid slithered from his chest to his hands in veiny, lighting marks that appeared all over his extended arm, the tip of his finger radiating a sudden black orb of what seems to be a black hole, the orb surrounded with his signature golden liquid, accompanied with a golden mist and—“Nanook!” You grabbed and placed yourself upon his arm, lowering it as you look to him wincing from the uncomfortable sensation of the golden marks touching against your skin, you shook your head frantically, before speaking to him.

“Don't, please.” He took a fleeting moment, processing your words and pondering deeply to himself. A defeated sigh escapes mouth from the pleading tone and glistening eyes of yours, his gaze softening shortly after as his other free hand grabbed you by the waist, holding you tightly against him, before pointing the summoned black orb of space to the nightly atmosphere, sending the orb soaring up to the stars, his gaze lowering to the armies and fleets that were moving quickly towards the both of you.

“And flower, I'll also get you a new book to draw on as an apology to destroying your home.” He smirked, teasing you as he snapped his fingers, the orb dissipated, a few seconds of silence ensued, before a massive, beautiful explosion shaped of a widened northern star followed suit, causing panic and bafflement to the incoming starskiffs and cloud soldiers from all continents within the Xianzhou.

The ethereal explosion that was just performed, dissipated slowly, but the golden, dust particles of exploding northernstar began to engulf the both of you, covering all of your form, shortly after a bright light emitting towards the both your bodies, before a sudden familiar moonlit darkness returns to the world again, making a hasty, easy escape into the darkness as a golden shower of dust particles illuminated the night sky, leaving unsatisfied feelings of anger, regret and pain towards the army that arrived.

Let his destructive calling be damned, he wasn't going to let you go, not until you two meet in another lifetime again.

the amount of editing i did cause this shit was so old... i mean uhhh—reblogs help my audience reach, thank you.

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