#but if it's women characters... it's on sight. please be gone.

[wallyslinda]

not to anyone in particular but it's okay to follow (me) if you don't like any male characters on my character list btw but you need to go away if you don't like the girls

[satorusugurugurl]

JJK Men: Seeing You Without Makeup For the First Time

Warning: Fluffy sweetness, insecurities, suggestiveness, language

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo, Modern!Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento

Word Count: 2,993

A/N: Ah yes, I love this trope. It was fun to write!! Please Enjoy, don't blame me from any cavities from this sweet fluff. Request Open.

Gojo Satoru:

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was the only thing keeping your eyes open. You grumbled and cursed the sun for rising another day as you leaned over the kitchen counter, watching the magic bean juice filling your cup. The higher-ups must not like you because the mission they just sent you on was hell.

A week, a damn week, you were gone. A week from your bed, students, and your boyfriend. Stupid old men and their dumb missions. But who were you to complain if you paid your bills and you were able to teach the next generation of sorcerers? So life wasn't that bad.

Then again, your somewhat happy outlook on life might be the sleep deprivation talking.

The bastards were sweet enough to give you one day to recuperate. There was no time to relax, though. You had laundry to sort through, groceries to pick up, and the normal mundane things you'd missed out on during the WEEK you were gone!

A day off was a day off despite it being a busy one. You would get it all done after you drank this coffee Satoru got you from Mexico on his last mission. As soon as you downed it, you would off. You were already dressed to go. You had on sweats and a t-shirt, and you opted out of putting on any makeup, seeing that you would just be running around.

Your phone chimed as Satoru’s name popped up on your screen. You smiled as you opened the chat.

Satoru: Good morning, beautiful! 😙 Welcome back! I had breakfast delivered to you; enjoy! 🍳🥓🧇

“Oh, he's getting laid later.” You squealed, running for the door to your apartment.

You flung it open, staring at the ground, expecting a bag, but instead, you were greeted by shoes. Designer shoes that you knew all too well. Slowly trailing up dark uniform pants and jacket that was from the same school you worked at. Further up, you caught sight of a wide grin, a blindfold, and fluffy white hair. All of which belongs to your boyfriend, who was holding a takeout bag.

“Special delivery for Y/L/N Y/N!”

Your boyfriend was here. The same boyfriend who was utterly gorgeous no matter what condition he was in. The man could be caked in blood, and you still wanted to kiss him. Then there was you; you always put in the effort to look nice around him, hair styled, cute outfit, some form of makeup always on.

Today was not one of those days.

In a panic, you squeaked, slamming the door in his face. “What the fuck?! What the actual fuck!?” You glanced around for anything you could use to hide your appearance. You panicked and grabbed the first thing off the couch.

“Uhm, babe?” Satoru questioned, opening the door. “I know you were gone for a week. But I'm Gojo Satoru, your boyfriend.”

“I know!! Sorry, I wasn't expecting to see you!” you had your back turned to him, covering your face with your hands. “T-Thanks for the food! But I have so much to do!”

“Really?”

“Yep! Laundry!”

“I had Ijichi pick it up this morning.”

Fuuuuck.

“O-Okay! I have to get groceries!”

“Your fridge is fully stocked, courtesy of yours truly.”

The room felt like it was shrinking in on you as you listened to him come up behind you. The bag was discarded as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You weren't sure how he would react, seeing your bare face, and that was terrifying.

So many men thought women wearing makeup was like lying. You had always done very light and minimal makeup, but it didn't make it less scary. Sensing the tension, Satoru gently turned you around so you were facing him. He stiffened, his mouth turning from a grin to a shocked expression.

“Y/N?” His voice was so quiet.

“Y-Yeah?”

A choked laugh erupted from his throat. “I-Is that one of my blindfolded?!” He called as you stated at the darkness his blindfold provided. “Oh my god, hold on! Hold on!” You could feel him near you with the camera on his phone clicking. “Oh my god, wait until the second years see this!” Fingers hooked under the blindfold, yanking it up and off your head.

Your hands flew up, hiding your face. Your attempt was foiled as Satoru's gentle hands pulled them away. With a shuddering sigh, you looked up at him, biting your cheek as he fully saw you. For you, no makeup, fancy clothes, or styled hair.

Satoru just smiled, leaning down before he kissed your lips gently. “Welcome home.” He pulled back, tilting his head to the side. “What was with the off-brand cosplay?” Your cheeks are flushed, the darker pigment visible without any trace of makeup.

“I-I don't have any makeup on.”

“Oh!” He straightened, his large hand patting your head. “You're so cute.”

His grin grew wider at the confused expression inching its way over your face. “Seriously? Do you think that? Even without the makeup and the baggy clothes? You still think I'm cute?” Satoru’s head bobbed up and down so fast you thought his head would fall out. His sincere reaction made you giggle, shaking your head. “Satoru, you are so strange. But also extremely sweet.” When you looked up, you blinked, seeing Gojo holding up one side of his blindfold. His bright blue eye looked you over, inching over every curve and surface of you. “Satoru, stop staring.”

“I just was confirming something.” he snapped his blindfold back into place before draping an arm over you.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee while Satoru pulled your breakfast out of the bag. “Confirming what?”

“Just confirming with Six-Eyes that I have the prettiest girlfriend in the entire world.”

Gojo’s smile slowly faded as you slammed the coffee pot down. Oh fuck, what did he say?! You led around; fire swarmed in Y/E/C eyes as you stormed over to him, grabbing his wrist.

“W-What?! What did I say?” He huffed out a gasp as you shoved him onto the couch.

“Everything.”

You unzipped his pants, and Gojo’s eyes were wide behind his blindfold. Even with Six-Eyes, Gojo did not see this coming. Spoiler alert: It was him, he was going to cum.

Choso Kamo:

A knock at your door had you straightening from your spot on the couch. Looking at your phone, you quickly got up. It was well past midnight, and it was never a good sign when someone knocked that late at night on the door.

Much to your relief, when you opened the door to your apartment, your boyfriend looked down at you. “Choso?” a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“I'm sorry. Did I wake you?” he asked before entering your apartment.

“No, I think you just saved me a stiff neck.” You yawned out before locking the door. “Did you and Yuuji finish up with that mission?”

“Yes, he went back home; I wanted to see you.”

Choso watched as you moved around the apartment. You straightened up the pillows on the couch and wiped down your kitchen before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bedroom. The entire time you went about your mundane tasks, Choso just stared. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was different about you.

Choso’s eyes moved over you. Trying to depict what was different tonight. Haircut? No. New pajamas? No, that wasn't it, either. Everything Choso tried to think of wasn't the right answer. Not knowing what it was frustrated him to the point that Choso’s eyebrow twitched.

What had you glowing in the lowlights of your bedroom as you pulled the sheets back? “Cho?” You finally asked with a nervous chuckle. “Are you okay? You're staring holes through me.” Realizing that he had been caught, Choso flinched.

“I'm sorry, sorry I just—” Words trailed off as his cheeks flushed.

You had noticed Choso staring at you since he came inside. The poor guy never saw you without makeup, which was probably strange. He seemed to be struggling, trying to find the words to the mountain of questions he might have.

“It's okay. I think I know what you're going to ask.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you’re going to ask what’s different.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I look different because I’m not wearing makeup.”

Choso tilted his head to the side.”Oh, no, I was going to say you look radiant tonight.” The words that left his mouth had both of you standing in silence.

You just eyed Choso as he smiled, nodding his head like he'd figured out the mystery of what was different. Pleased with his conclusion, he helped you pull the sheets back. His hands smoothed out the covers before he peered up at you. You were blushing, smiling ear to ear as you finished pulling the bed back.

“I just finished doing my skincare routine,” you announced as you crawled into bed after Choso showered. “I have a new serum that is supposed to make you look luminescent.”

Choso studied you carefully as he crawled into bed with you. “Mmm, maybe that’s it.” He pulled you into his arms. “Or maybe it’s just me.” Choso hummed, staring into the face that he loved so much. “Falling in love.” Love?! “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what this is.”

That was the reasoning behind your radiant glow. A glow that always surrounded you no matter what you wore or looked like. Choso saw utter perfection in you. So it only made sense that the reason you looked extra stunning was that he had fallen in love with you even more.

You just snuggled closer into his chest, grinning wide as he yawned. “I love you too, Cho.”

Ryomen Sukuna:

Ten minutes. All it took was ten minutes before chaos erupted in Sukuna’s apartment. He had just finished changing when he heard the commotion. Yuuji and Choso were bickering before you gently tried to break up the argument. The next thing he heard was a scream, your scream, to be exact.

He bolted, running into the kitchen, where he found you wiping at your face. “What the fuck?!” His younger brothers both stood in shock, watching you in fear. Yuuji was holding a box of baking soda, and Choso held a bottle of vinegar.

In the center of the kitchen was the volcano experiment you had been helping Yuuji make. Sukuna was able to put it all together in an instant. He didn't bother yelling. He instead lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom.

“What the hell happened?” You flinched when you felt a warm, wet rag gently cleaning your face off.

“The boys wanted to see how big of an explosion they could make. But you know the boys, they both were arguing about who should do what. Words were said, contents were thrown into a beaker, and I didn't have my safety goggles on.”

Sukuna sighed, continuing to rub off the mess on your face. “You're not hurt, are you?”

“Nope!” Your confident response had your boyfriend chuckling as he wiped more of the foamy goop off your face.

After about five minutes of wiping and rinsing the rag, Sukuna sat on the tub's edge, examining your face. It was without the small amount of makeup you had on and the lighting of the bathroom that he stared at you. You were stunning, gorgeous in everything. But here in the bathroom, his eyes mapped out your face.

“What happened here?” he asked, fingertips pressing against a small scar under your eye.

Thinking it was food coloring, you turned to the mirror, seeing your bare face. “EH?!” You touched it, groaning as you looked back at your boyfriend, who was smirking. “You wiped off all my makeup!” For a second, Sukuna thought he was dealing with a third child in his apartment.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to have vinegar on your face?” You shook your head. “That's what I thought. So confess what happened there?”

“Acne scar.”

A soft him rumbled in his chest before he learned over, thumb grazing over a tiny scar at the bottom of your lip. “This?” gentle fingers moved up, brushing over your bottom lip as he stepped closer towards you.

“I-I fell off my bike.”

You swallowed hard, whimpering as Sukuna’s fingers grazed over your face. You were feeling how soft your delicate skin was. All of you mesmerized him. Every time you came over, he learned a little more about you. And god, he fuckin’ loved that.

His hands gently mapped your face out. The softness had you breathing heavily, his eyes glued to your lips. Having your boyfriend gaze over you with such a soft yet burning gaze had you shifting. The air in the bathroom became thick with need as he slowly slipped your tank top sleeve down.

“Y/N, let me see all of you. I want to map out your body and learn everything it has to say.”

“W-What’s gotten into you?”

The whisper tone of your voice had Sukuna sliding the other sleeve of your tank top down. “You. You’ve crept your way into my heart.” The confession that spilled from his lips has you leaning in, wanting him to touch you everywhere. The same way he had touched your face.

“Hey, is she okay?” Choso’s timid voice whispered through the door. “Yuuji’s worried.”

“Take Yuuji out for ice cream.” Your tank top is slowly pulled over your head. “My card is on my dresser.”

Silence spreads out as you tug Sukuna’s shirt up and off. “R-Really?” hands began working on jeans.

“Yes, I have my own project to work on.” Sukuna turned the shower on, and he never heard Choso collecting Yuuji so fast. Refusing to answer any questions as the door to the apartment slammed shut.

Sukuna’s antics had you giggling, licking your lip, and he stripped you completely. “A project, huh?” he nodded, following you into the shower.

“Yeah, but it won't be vinegar foam that covers that pretty face this time.”

Nanami Kento:

The hotel sheets were cold and crisp over your and your boyfriend's bodies. Between the chill and the heat Nanami was putting out, you felt so comfortable. It was the perfect combination that made you want to relish the feeling forever.

The sun was up, which meant you both would be going home soon. You both had been called out on a mission, one that took a bit longer to handle than you both were anticipating. You missed the last train back to Tokyo. Leaving you both stranded in Kawasaki for the night.

Instead of having one of the assistant supervisors drive all the way out to get you, you and Nanami decided to stay at a hotel. God, it was nice: room service, wine, a hot shower. Missing that last train was a reward for the two of you. Nothing more than relaxation and joy. But the moment Nanami pulled you tighter against him, you realized you didn't have your overnight bag.

Meaning you didn't have your makeup.

“Oh no, oh god no.” You whined as Nanami lifted his head.

“What’s wrong?” His groggy voice asked, trying to assess what was going on.

Burying your face in your pillow, you grumbled, cringing as you felt Nanami shift beside you. “I don't have my bag.” The covers move as Nanami props himself up.

“Your overnight bag?”

“Mhmm.”

Silence stretched out. “Did you need something out of it? Aspirin or tampons? I'll go grab you some.” The sincerity of his words made your heart soar. God, Nanami was the best boyfriend.

“No, no, I'm okay.” You shyly turned, swallowing hard. “I just realized you've never seen me without makeup.”

Nanami’s gaze was soft; honey-brown eyes slowly roamed over your face. He took his time, his hand reaching out, knuckles grazing your cheek. It was so gentle and sweet that you pressed yourself against his hand. The warmth spreads to every part of your body.

The bed shifts as Nanami’s hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer. “You are still as stunning in the morning bare-faced as you are all dolled up.” Before you could even think of what to say in response, his lips were on yours.

His lips were warm, like a spring day. You moaned happily, kissing him back as his hands slowly ran down your arms. Breaking the kiss, had you pouting with a displeased groan that shifted into a moan. Those warm lips slowly moved down your face. Nanami was trailing the softest, warmest kisses down your body, over your shoulders and upper arm.

“I want to see all of you.” Hot breath whispered over your skin. “See every part of you, body, mind, and soul in the raw.”

Soft kisses were replaced with gentle nips. The sensation had you arching your back as Nana crawled on top of you. His morning wood was pressing against your hip. It felt like you were melting into the mattress as the once-comfortable room suddenly became too warm. The need to get naked grew stronger and stronger.

“Kento~”

He didn't respond. He was too busy being love-drunk off of you. His fingers, lips, and teeth slowly mapped out every part of your body. Nanami’s actions left you a squirming mess underneath him. One that he was so pleased to see and feel.

Only once you were gasping for air, gripping his shirt, begging him for more, did Nanami finally pull back, taking his shirt off. “Every inch of you is the most beautiful thing that's graced this world, Y/N.” You sat up, pulling him into a starved kiss as he took your shorts off. Limbs entangling as he gently laid you down.

And yes, you missed the morning train. . .and the afternoon train. . .poor Ijichi had to pick you up.

[pseudowho]

Calamus et Gladius

(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

Stolen from a foreign army to participate in the Culling Game, speaking little to no Japanese with just a rifle for self-defence, the reader partakes in a bittersweet dance of death and love, with Higuruma Hiromi.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lovers, murder, use of firearms, the desperate smut of two traumatised people who fall hopelessly in love.

This is long, but I make no apologies, because the payoff is worth it.

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You were used to violence. You were used to senseless bloodshed. Used to rains of bullets, flinging shrapnel, your ears ringing with explosions and screams.

Yet, it was your own screams that rang through you, as an enormous gavel split the earth where you had just stood.

Your entire unit was dead, almost fifty men and women lured into Tokyo Colony One, and you scrabbled back on grazed hands, kicking feet, as this ink-haired monster stepped slowly through the rubble and gore, black eyes fixed on you with the rage and fervour of a justified killer.

He appeared to hesitate only briefly as your face crumpled up at him in tearful rage and despair, desperation. You did not move to grab the rifle on your back; a threat of retaliation would be your downfall.

Despite being the only one of your unit who had had something new, something alien awakened within them, you had developed no fantastical technique. You had no mystical weapon. You had no roiling blue flames engulfing your fists. You had only the ability to sense others like you, and the horrifying stop-motion beasts that now sullied your sight. It was enough, at least, to hide.

"Please-- please--" you begged, the last attempt of a cornered woman. Your back pressed against the wall, the wide street around you a no-man's land of rubble, overturned cars and bloody splatters. The man's hand tightened on his gavel, his other raising to swipe flicks of black fringe off his forehead. He frowned, stopping. You noticed his distinctive hooked nose, crinkling in disgust.

"English," he offered, thickly accented, neither a question or a statement. You gulped, nodding with urgency, any dialogue an opportunity to re-establish his humanity.

"Innocent," you insisted, hands raised in front of you, disarming, "I'm innocent." That word, the man seemed to recognise, and he blew air through his nose, snorting in mirth.

"Innocent?" He asked, sarcastic.

He knelt down in front of you, his eyes still offering no mercy, but he spoke to you so conversationally. He reached one long finger out, tapping the rifle on your back, coming back round to stroke you teasingly along the side of your cheek, holding it so tenderly. His words washed over you, meaningless, until you caught one you could understand as he stood up.

"...sorry." His arm raised, the head of the gavel blocking out the sun, and you took your chance.

Your hand darted, and you flung a handful of brick dust into his eyes as he spat, staggered, cursing. You brought the butt of your rifle round to slam into the side of his head, and although he barely faltered, you ran for your life, darting down alleys, your heart bursting in your ears.

You heard no footsteps chasing you. He could have...but he didn't.

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Just one easy kill.

The others had all gone down so hard, Hiromi thought, stepping into his swing, barely missing the foreign woman, the gavel making a buckled crater in the tarmac instead. Hiromi tsked, annoyed, kissing his teeth. Watching her squirm on the floor to save her life, a worm from a bird, Hiromi's gut churned-- ugly.

Murder was so easy. The power to beat scum at their own game was intoxicating. Hiromi stepped after her, so far removed from his old self. His usual self? He wasn't sure.

His keen eyes built the woman's character, hawkish and unforgiving. Young...naive. Soldier...killer. No Japanese...lazy. Pleading...pathetic. Not fighting...coward. By the time she began to beg Hiromi, she was already barely human in his eyes. Swiping his hair upwards, and tightening his grip for the deathblow, he spat, "English."

She caught his eye, and Hiromi felt the barest seed of guilt in the back of his mind, an itch he could not scratch. She had nodded at him, tears brimming in her eyes, hands raised in placation.

"Innocent," the woman had insisted, "...innocent." Bile rose in Hiromi's throat at the familiar word, and the audacity she had to use it for herself, as if she wasn't rolling in the same pigshit as the rest of them. Hiromi's lip curled, smirking as he rubbed his nose with the side of one long finger.

"Innocent?" He stabbed. Hiromi knelt, talking at you as if you understood.

"What's that? You're the good guy, are you?" He mocked, reaching out to tap the rifle on your back, feeling you flinch beneath him, "Is it this, that makes you innocent, hmm?" He brought his hand to your cheek, stroking it with the blade of his finger, swiping away the tears that had cut a track through the dust and grime, "Or this pretty face, hmmm? Are those big, teary eyes what make you innocent? Don't make me laugh. You're scum, just like the rest of us. And natural law is at play here." He cupped your cheek once, squeezing it with the barest of sincerities in his apology as he stood.

"Sorry," Hiromi offered, lifting his gavel and feeling power churn through him, just and righteous as your executioner.

Hiromi cursed as he felt a spray of grit flung into his face, immediately disarmed by the sordid pain of sand in his eyes, further disorientated by the ear-ringing slam of something into the side of his head. He staggered, faltering.

"Oooh, you piece of shit," Hiromi cooed, vicious, spitting with venom, vision completely obscured as he tried in vain to clear his eyes. He felt you disappear, and he leaned against the wall, laughing despite himself at having been bested. He smiled, the barest tinge of admiration for your tenacity threading through him.

"Alright," Hiromi sniffed, rubbing his nose again as his vision began to clear, "catch you later, I suppose."

Hiromi tried to forget you. He tried to forget his humanity, but each life he took made him sicker, infected by this game.

Every time he closed his eyes, to sleep in some strange home-less, love-less bed, your eyes met his, impeaching him.

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Resources soon ran thin, for one who held no territory. You had your army pack, and rationed out your meagre foodstuffs, always hungry, always on-edge. You had never fought alone, in war.

You had managed to develop quite the skill at hiding, and concealed yourself, cloaked in plain sight, from even the most powerful of those left in the game. Every day that the stragglers were picked off, the stakes ran higher. Every explosive battle you ran from, dodging the falling debris thrown by titans, you felt your inherent value as an easy kill increasing.

You thought of the hook-nosed man who had let you go. Despite his willingness to kill you, you craved human contact, and found warmth in the memory of the heat of his gaze, his hand on your face, desperately trying to translate the words he had spoken to you as he caressed your cheek.

One dewy dawn, you had taken position on a sheltered rooftop, giving you equal measures concealment and oversight. With your rifle drawn, flat on your belly, you felt the ebbs and wanes of a familiar power draw closer. Curiously, it made your belly clench, eager to see the man who could have chased you, but didn't. You were itching to know why. Itching to behold him again.

Your heart leapt as he stepped into the street, at least four stories below you. Even from this distance, you could see the intensity of his furrowed brow, the noble bearing of his shoulders beneath a great black overcoat. His tie hung, dishevelled, loose-knotted. He was hunting.

He paused, tiptoed on a breath...before rolling, gracefully dodging as a knife of Cursed energy ricocheted through the street, splitting it. You gasped, your eye moving away from your rifle lens, watching in awe as he took to battle with another man. While he seemed to hold his own, he appeared distracted, and was buffeted, winded by an almighty hit, knocked onto his back, elbows on the ground.

A strange panic overtook you as your hook-nosed man's assailant bore down on him, power surging, preparing to murder--

-- a gunshot. A brittle, echoing bang. The assailant's head snapped forwards, and he fell, killed instantly, face first on the ground in front of your hook-nosed man.

He panted, his face sprayed with blood. With a few owlish blinks, his eyes tracked upwards. You held your breath, adrenaline coursing through you. As the man stood, eyes fixed on you (in rage? murderous intent? thanks?), you jolted to life and took aim on him.

He did not raise his hands. There was no standoff, as he made no move to save his own life. In the moment that he accepted his death for the attempt he had made on yours, something in you both softened, seeing each other as you saw no others. A gentle impasse. The intimacy of differentiation.

It took everything you had in you to break eye contact, and run.

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Hiromi mulled beneath the shaky warning of your rifle.

You were afraid, he thought as he gazed up at you, so sickeningly grateful for having been chosen by you. The mist of his opponent's blood drifting through the sunrise, picked Hiromi out as somehow preferable, in your mind.

And, why should you not be afraid? He saw you beneath him, again, your eyes soft and begging him for mercy. You had been defenceless and entirely in his palm. He had been relieved, he recalled, that he could kill someone easily. The begging made you passive. Hiromi could have vomitted, sickened by himself.

He stood, arms raised slightly to his sides, his profile illuminated by sweet morning sun, waiting for death to take his hand.

Hiromi felt embraced by your eyes. Wanted. Some companionship, in death...until you refused him his end. The red string between you both seemed to snap as you broke eye contact and ran.

Alone, as the sun broke above the skyline, Hiromi whispered; "Thank you."

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There was no way out. Starving and desperate, days had passed since you had saved your hook-nosed man, and you had crept through haunted streets to a convenience store, unusually well-stocked with food and drink.

You bit your tongue for your own stupidity at having walked into such an obvious trap. No amount of being able to hide one's Cursed energy could compensate for being seen walking into the shop. Crouching now, behind shelves of ramen, tears trembled on your lashes, an aching lump in your throat.

You heard a mocking voice, cooing at you, laughing at you, and you blushed with indignant tearful injustice, not needing language to know when you were being assaulted for your sex. You were afraid of death. You were more afraid of being used beforehand.

With nowhere to hide, and no grit to throw, you tipped your head back and thought of those black embering eyes, holding you in his gaze.

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"Are you hungry?" The voice chirped, teasing, mean, "Come out, baby. I've got something here in my pocket you can taste." A filthy laugh. Slow, easy footsteps. Willing to rape you before he killed you. Hiromi felt himself burn with fury, ready to wring this man's neck with his own two hands.

Hiromi walked the streets easily, now. His power had come on in leaps and bounds, and he both trusted in his own abilities, and feared nothing of death. Not since you had held his life in your hands, and thrown it straight back in his face.

He was a disordered eater at the best of times, but, a sudden faintness from hunger sent him seeking food. Hiromi knew some dirty little spider had built a web at an abandoned store, and did not fear a man who sought to ensnare the desperate.

Let him try me, thought Hiromi as he approached, lit by the sickly orange glow of streetlights, and see where it gets him.

Just a few steps from the entrance, Hiromi paused mid-step, his heart hiccuping in his chest. It was you. Inside the store, your Cursed energy faltering and so overwhelmed by that of the spider. Hiromi's lips parted, to call for you, a hand in the dark. He stopped, gritting his teeth. No-- this would not do, he thought, as he began a hunt of his own.

The spider was so obviously distracted by excitement, thrilled to find a woman in his dirty little trap. He had found you, by the time Hiromi reached you, in time to see you flung, body smashing against the counter, curling and coughing. Hiromi stepped behind the spider, seething, overburdened with terrible strength.

You had looked up in time to see your hook-nosed man wind an arm round your assailant's neck, throttling him, dragging him backwards out of the store. The hook-nosed man's face was twisted, ugly with rage...and for what? For you?

If your Cursed-energy had been no match for that of your assailant, his was dwarfed by that of your rescuer. Still coughing, doubled over on your hands and knees, you crawled to the entrance, watching the streetlights flicker above your hook-nosed man as he choked the life out of your assailant, merciless in his conviction.

You knelt there, drinking in his profile, in that sickly orange glow. His sharply squared jaw. His black overcoat, shrouding him like Death itself. Panting and cursing as his arms shook, your assailant fighting weakly beneath him. Choking the life out of a man, a murder most intimate. For you. Killing, with his bare hands-- for you.

Time hung in suspended animation in these small hours. Your rescuer sighed, the tension releasing from his shoulders as he knelt back on his haunches. He appeared devoid of guilt, at having carried out his sentencing. Slowly, as if fearful of what he would see in your eyes, he turned to you, kneeling in the doorway of the shop.

Your eyes met. You studied each other in silence. He had a way of making you transparent. You had a way of making him exposed. His panting slowed, palms flush to his thighs, offering you a cautious smile, as your eyes glimmered in the dark.

"English," he spoke, by way of greeting.

"Nose," you returned. He frowned, uncertain.

"N..?"

You reached up to stroke your nose, and repeated, with a smile; "Nose."

His hand reached up to mirror yours, realising, and he burst into laughter, rich and genuine. You blushed, burying your face in your hands as he continued to laugh. He wiped his eyes, fingering the hook in his nose again, looking at you with those deep embering eyes that wholly undressed you.

"Nose," he repeated, chuckling, "Subarashī." Your bit your lip in mirth, looking anywhere but at him as he tried to catch your eye again, mischief twinkling in his.

Hiromi stood, stretching his shoulders back with a husky groan, tipping his neck from side to side. He stepped over to you, and you felt, ridiculously, so teenagerish as the odd duality of your hook-nosed man made your belly twist. You saw a long-fingered hand enter your line of sight. You looked at it questioningly. The fingers wiggled in invitation.

With a shaking hand, you took his. He pulled you up and smiled at you, swinging your hand briefly in his before releasing it, waiting for you to step into the shop before he followed. You browsed for food, as if Saturday-Night-Snack-Hunting as a couple, in safe silence.

Shivering as the adrenaline wore off, your stomach clenched with terrified nausea to hear explosions, shouts, drawing ever nearer in the street outside. Your hook-nosed man looked up, hangdog eyes wide, flicking from you, to the street, and back again. He gritted his teeth, bundling packets of food into the pockets of his overcoat.

You found yourself manhandled, his heavy coat suddenly on you. Your rescuer's hands moved deftly, smoothing the coat across your shoulders, searching for words, irritated by his intelligence in one language and his stupidity in another.

"Cold-- hungry-- go," Hiromi pressed in broken English, spinning you as you protested, urging you through the back door. You turned in the doorway, your eyes begging him to...what? To go with you? There was no time, no time--

Hiromi materialised his gavel, and crouched, snarling at you: "GO!" He roared, steeped in regret as you sprinted away, guarding your life like a child.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Your hook-nosed man began to leave you breadcrumbs; tickets to safe havens, food, shelter, beds. You felt the vestiges of his Cursed-energy wherever you followed his trail, haunted by the path of devastation he left to build you sanctuaries.

Your dialogue budded, and combined with his notes and signs, you began to learn more about him. His notes, secreted away in scrawled English, street signs flipped to point in alternate directions, and crude maps drawn on dust-caked windows, all added colour and life to him.

Hiromi took a little joy, his cold heart popping to life, at the little hearts you drew in the dust; signs of acknowledgement, a tiny thrill.

You found yourself drawn to a bookstore, and scoured the shelves, looking for a particular something, a matching pair. You found hints of him in the pockets of the hook-nosed man's overcoat; a business card, in Japanese. A handkerchief, curiously embroidered with two gold initials-- H.H. A set of housekeys with a key-finder fob. A pair of chewed pens. You still thought of him as "Nose".

Hiromi still thought of you as "English", as he caught himself differentiating you from the others. Still steeped in this depression, this black-dog-misery and ugliness, he saw you, a light in the dark, who hid yourself to protect yourself as well as others, from needless violence.

They were all ugly...except, perhaps, for you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You sighed as you slipped into the hot bath, water up to your chin in the great, deep basin of this luxury hotel. You were impressed there was still a hot water supply, and you felt a gleeful coil of naughtiness, knowing you would never usually be able to afford to stay in such opulence, all marble tiles and gold taps.

Fighting for survival did not negate the fundamental craving for little joys, and you took advantage of the selection of complimentary soaps, scouring yourself free of grime with happy hums. You sang to yourself, quiet in the evening hush, just you and your languid splishing--

-- oh. A cautious approach. A familiar power. You clasped the lip of the bath, sinking your body under the water.

"...hello? Nose?" You called out. You heard the click of a lock, quick feet stepping in, locking the door behind him. A single held breath.

"...English?"

You blushed, pressing your lips to your knuckles, white from how tightly you gripped the bath. Hiromi's cheeks prickled faintly, hearing soft splashes from the bathroom, seeing your clothes discarded over the bed, your rifle leaning against it. You cleared your throat, wanting to talk, not knowing where to start.

"Mhm." Hiromi smiled at your little squeak, sitting with a groan and creaking knees, his back against the wall beside the bathroom door. Separated by this thin wall, he reached a hand around the doorway behind him. You giggled to see his long fingered hand offer you a jaunty wave.

"Konbanwa, English," he offered. He jolted to feel your little hand, warm and wet, squeeze his. His thumb grazed over your knuckles, smooth, examining, probing in a way that made your belly tight. You reluctantly released his fingers, humming in thought as you reached out of the bath into your backpack, searching for something.

Momentarily, Hiromi felt something gently tap the side of his head around the bathroom door, and he giggled, a noise which made you paddle your feet in delight. He reached up, taking a Japanese-English dictionary and phrasebook from your hand.

"Ahhhhh!" Hiromi hummed, genuinely thrilled, "Yoi aidea." He skimmed through the book, hunting again, and you paused, listening.

"Good idea!" He stated, confident, and he squirmed to hear you laugh at his janky pronunciation. Hiromi wanted so dearly to see you, to know you were uninjured, and instead scoured his little book again.

"Hurt?" He asked you. You softened, responding automatically.

"Ah...no, I'm...hmm," you flipped through your own book, "...uhm...daijōbu desu?"

Hiromi hummed, satisfied. You talked this way, for some time, gently brushing the outskirts of each others' language and personality. Hiromi corrected you. You corrected him. The bath grew cold. The light began to die behind the windows, casting you both in deep shadow and amber glow.

At some point, in the conversation, your hands had trailed together again. Hiromi now leaned sideways against the wall, his cheek pressed against it, eyes closed as his fingertips grazed the inside of your wrist.

You lay in the bath, shivering, feeling your heartbeat between your legs from such an innocent, intimate touch-- except, it did not feel innocent in intent. Perhaps, that was what made you squirm.

"Stay safe," Hiromi whispered to you, his fingers drawing circles on your palm, his next word crumpling your face with barely restrained tears, "Afraid."

Hiromi bit his lip in anguish, eyes squeezed shut to see you in his mind's eye, so desperately touch-starved as you pressed a kiss to his palm. He felt your lips remain, nose ghosting against his pulse. He imagined those lips on his own, and he was filled with an anxious need to taste you, to lift you from the bath, wrap you up in the bed and his arms, safe.

Fully distracted by thoughts of you and your sweet cries beneath his body, Hiromi almost missed you holding out your book to him, pressed open at the start-- and a name, your name, written neatly on the page. You offered this, all the while wanting to step to him from the bath, and offer him the feel of those clever fingers, examining the rest of your body.

"Oh..." Hiromi whispered, reverent, squeezing your hand as he swiped his thumb over the faint imprint of your written name, repeating it aloud slowly. Hearing him speak your name, almost had you climbing out of the bath and into his lap. You closed your eyes, imagining him crying it out as he peaked, buried deeply inside you. You burned with the urgent need to know him.

Just a few seconds later, Hiromi's hand reached round the corner, offering his own book back to you, with his own name written in your own alphabet, jolted and square.

"Higuruma...Hiromi?" He hummed, happily.

"Hiromi," you repeated, and he hummed again, delighted by your name on his lips. You tucked your dictionary away, thrilled, reaching for a towel.

"It suits you. I love it." Hiromi understood just one word you had uttered, and it sent joy creeping down his spine. He pressed his forehead against the wall.

Pull yourself together, Hiromi, he thought, it's just loneliness and desperation. Nothing else. No amount of logic and self-chastisement stopped his mouth from moving independently of his mind, as he flicked through your dictionary, imbued with your name.

"Bed. Stay. Please." Silence. Hiromi pressed the corner of the dictionary to his head, cursing himself under his breath. Idiot, pathetic little moron, stupid--

"Yes."

Hiromi's stomach swooped, missing a step, hearing you climb out of the bath. You steeled yourself, blushing furiously, to wrap a towel around yourself and pad out to the bedroom. Hiromi turned his back to you, but not before seeing the graceful curve of your leg, the wet cleavage of your breasts, the towel barely skimming the tops of your thighs. He breathed slowly, clawing back his self-control as you dressed behind him.

A long, slow whistle, belonging to neither of you, broke the silence, and your blood ran with ice water.

Voices spoke, Hiromi spitting threats, in this language that still gatekept against your understanding.

You jacked sideways, still topless, seizing your rifle as Hiromi demolished the doorway with a single wide swing of his gavel. You heard laughter from the corridor, and you hurriedly pulled your top and Hiromi's overcoat on, fixing your rifle on your shoulder to take aim.

Hiromi backed up to you, wrapping one arm behind himself and around you, fingers splayed against the small of your back. You understood none of the venom spat between Hiromi and this hidden assailant.

Your nerves on a knife-edge, you sensed movement behind the shattered brickwork of the doorway, and fired, a deafening blow in this enclosed space. A spray of blood and an enraged shout through the drifting plaster-cloud saw you hit your mark, and Hiromi exclaimed, shocked and delighted, squeezing your waist.

"I've seen better shots than that from her, bastard" Hiromi warned, "and if you think she's easy prey, you've got both of us to take down."

"Hiromi," you gasped, hyperventilating, "Hiromi-- Hiromi--"

Silence through the room; Hiromi's ears rang. He pocketed your dictionary, and grasped your cheeks, eyes fixed to yours and wordlessly reassuring you as he turned you towards him from the doorway. You felt your heart bounding in your chest, hands loosening on your rifle as you drank him in, breathed the same air, panting, together--

--it was all too fast. Hiromi's eyes fixing behind you. His panicked shout. Being thrown sideways onto the bed, a glassy smash, a scream that may have been your own--

Hiromi and your hunter plummeted in an outward spray of glass, two inky blots fading into the night.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You had searched so desperately. Nothing could assure you Hiromi was still alive. There were no breadcrumbs left in the dust; nil but blood, and so much of it, beneath the shattered hotel window, so many stories up.

You had run your hands through it, clotted with the rubble, needing to feel him within the grisly spill-- alas. Too many residuals passed over this land. Too many battles fought, too many lives spent and saved, for clairvoyance to be what repaired your fractured heart.

You steeled yourself. Adversity goaded you to try harder. To do better. You took to the hunt yourself. You amassed points from potshots, hidden in curious places to execute nasty little opportunists who sought dominion over the weak.

While you had had no experience of the Kogane-- the odd, winged shikigami which acted as an interface between the players and the game-- in your passive state, they now became regular visitors, updating you of your points total. You had assumed they could not speak your language-- you were wrong.

Witnessing, from afar, one day, another player asking Kogane a question, your stomach rolled with nausea and hope as you called the black-tailed beast to you.

"Kogane?" The creature appeared with a pop. Your mouth opened, and closed, faltering over your words.

"Kogane, is-- is Hiromi Higuruma a player in the game?"

Silence-- and an answer; "Higuruma Hiromi is a player in the game--"

All of the air left your lungs in an enormous gasp, a heaving cry of relief as you doubled over, your hands cupped over your mouth and nose, tears streaming down around your fingers, before the Kogane had even finished giving its report.

"Thank you-- th--thank you, Kogane," you sobbed, blinded by your own tears. This tiny demon, to whom manners meant nothing, hung impassively. It disappeared with a pop as you spun away, cloaked with conviction.

You turned on a pinhead, cocking your rifle ready, and stalked off through the ruins; all of your steeling wisped away like ashes, your heart on the battlefield, knowing your vulnerability was out there, alive.

You decided now, with a smile at the thought of those beetle-black eyes, to hunt not for business, but for pleasure.

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Hiromi felt the damp all the way to his bones, in these heavy, wet clothes, made heavier still by the excruciating weight of his crimes. The theatre door swung closed behind him, and he leaned his back against the wall, crouching, the palms of his heels pressing so hard into his eyes that he was blinded by lights.

He had fallen beyond salvation, and it gnawed at the rotten wood of him, eating him alive. Feeling his brain judder, his tie too tight, the walls too close, the silence too deafening, Hiromi tried to collect himself. He pressed his palms to his thighs and breathed; in through his nose one two three four five and out through his mouth one two three four five.

Feeling his heart rate slow, full of equal parts light and dark, Hiromi called out into the gloom, straightening slowly.

"Kogane." The creature appeared with a pop, waiting, patient. Hiromi spoke your name, and then, hesitant--

"...is she a player in the game?" A heartbeat. Two. Three.

"Confirmed--"

Hiromi did not hear the rest, buckling to his haunches with a primal cry of gratitude, and a few moments of dry sobs as his fingers raked through his hair. Chest heaving, he breathed again, one two three four five, one two three four five.

In the space taken for one breath, Hiromi decided not to find you. You, who had always chosen not to fight. You, whose pleading eyes still haunted him. You could not be sullied by his rot.

Hiromi stepped out into the night, a porcelain man checkered with cracks, seeking only to rebuild a world worthy of you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

He's here.

Climbing the stairs, fine piano music rang distant, its notes bittersweet, cherries in kirsch. Your feet carried you unbidden and you ascended, the notes becoming sweeter, feeling him, closer, playing this Siren's song.

Stepping into the doorway of the skyline bar, he must have felt your approach. The lights were low, refracted through a hundred hanging glasses, a hundred under-lit bottles of vim and vigour. The room sprawled out in an expansive, long C-shape, and your heart stuttered to see Hiromi at the end, pale fingers moving across the piano, white-shirt-shoulders burdened by the weight of his song.

You felt him build in the music as you approached, each note demanding more of him, and more and more and more and more--

There was only the briefest hitch in the music, barely perceptible, as you slid onto the bench beside Hiromi. He did not look up, his mouth set in a grim line, his eyes pressed tightly shut.

Consumed by the need to feel his skin on yours, you reached out, your hand ghosting over his. In a flash, Hiromi's hand darted up to grab yours, fingers tangled, as his other hand continued to move, playing this bisected song. A few moments passed, this way, with Hiromi pressing his lips and nose to your knuckles, his face contorted, conflicted-- pained.

"Go," he whispered, breath fanning over your hand, "bad."

"I...I don't--...bad?" You turned towards him, to hold him, and he jerked, twitching away from you, and you felt your heart tug along with him.

"No. Me. I...am bad." You shook your head, more and more fervent as Hiromi twisted away from you, quietly cursing, husky, tortured. He tried to release your hand, and you refused, plaiting your fingers in his, steadfast in a way that filled him with an animalistic urge to appreciate you.

You turned from him, your other hand resting upon the high keys, pressing gentle, uncertain notes. Overwhelmed by your closeness, and your insistent faith in him, Hiromi softened to watch your profile, backlit from the liquid glow of the bar. Your small hand, moving softly over the keys. Your heart beating like butterfly wings in your throat.

"No. Not bad. Lost. Lonely. Sabishī."

Every moment of belief you handed him, pulled Hiromi closer to the light. Swallowing thickly, he brought your joined hands to the keys, laying his palm over the back of yours, overlaying your fingers with his own. He pressed, soft insistent touches, on your fingers, guiding them to play. You felt your belly coil with odd pleasure, captivated by Hiromi's hands, all at once gentle and rough, smart and instinctual--

"Hiromi--"

"No. Stop." Hiromi tensed, his voice rough, fraying alongside his self-control. His hand shook over your own, the notes stopping now. Heat burst through you, certain he felt it too, this dangerous need, and his name forced its way out of you again, a challenge.

"Hiro--"

Hiromi spat venom again, growling and cursing as he stood, lifting you by the waist, sitting you upon the keys with a spray of notes, his arms shaking as they pressed beside you, trapping you in. Nose to nose, his breath on your lips, his face twisted with fury and need, Hiromi whispered to you.

"Stop. My name--" Hiromi shook, on his last thread, half a step away from using you--

When your hand snaked to his tie, tugging him closer, your other hand sinking into the back of his hair, Hiromi snapped.

His lips pressed to yours, hot and hungry, his body closing the rest of the distance to be flush between your thighs. Your mouth opened to him, feeling his urgency as he drank down your stolen breath, one hand tilting your head back to consume you, the other dragging through the plush rolls of your belly and hips.

Every kiss was hot and anguished, punctuated by Hiromi's low rolling voice, not needing language to feel the fervour and vice on his lips-- "--won't be gentle-- I'm sorry I-- I can't--"

You insisted your understanding on him the only way you knew how; fingers working his tie off and draping it round your own neck, locking your legs around him to press his aching cock against your core, undoing his shirt in a desperate flurry, all notes and fingers and tongues and moans.

You tasted rum in his mouth, all spice and brown sugar, and his hand wandered to your throat, feeling your pulse there before tilting you backwards, arched against the hood of the piano. With your head rested back, he spoke to you, shirt now unbuttoned to his navel, cock straining against the material below a trail of black hair.

"--making a mistake to let a monster put his mouth on you, English-- let's see what sounds you can make." Your khaki t-shirt was pulled off over your head, where Hiromi let it catch around your hands, twisting it to bind you. Hiromi kept you gripped this way, leaning over you, caging you in as he gripped the cups of your bra between his teeth, yanking them down to free your breasts.

Hiromi shuddered and moaned, feeling a drop of pre-cum soak into his boxers, as he flattened his tongue over your nipple, rolling, tasting, pulling you between his lips, nuzzling from side to side like an animal. You mewled, jutting your hips involuntarily, and Hiromi pressed back, pleasuring you with rough, sharp thrusts against your clothed pussy.

Hiromi leaned back, releasing your nipple with a hard suck, gazing down at where he fucked himself against you, mesmerised by the way you shivered and humped against his cock. Unabashed, his words falling over you like strange-eyed constellations, Hiromi fucked you with his voice--

"--cum like this, and I'll give you my fingers...cum like that, and I'll give you my tongue-- fuck, I'll eat you alive, you fucking goddess--"

As Hiromi spoke, all twisted rage and growls, his hips slammed into you, spurred on by your squeaks and whimpers, gripping the fat of your hips to ram your core against him. The pleasure was brutal, all harsh fabric friction and Hiromi's unrestrained adoration, and you tried to hold yourself together as you were dragged to orgasm, your frantic hands pressing disjointed chords on the keys beneath you.

Hiromi wanted to, needed to cum like this, with you, knowing he'd be able to continue fucking you after until he collapsed in your arms from exhaustion. Pausing only briefly to reach into his boxers, and angle his angry, throbbing cock upwards so the bulbous tip pressed between his waistband and belly, Hiromi's eyes rolled back in unadulterated ecstasy as he continued to fuck you against him.

You were both close, having been unfinished even by yourselves for weeks, and Hiromi's eyes burned into yours, feral with the need for you to finish with him, feeling your thighs tense around him as you babbled, fully understanding your meaning behind the nonsense--

"--gonna cum-- please-- Hiromi-- harder--"

You pressed back against the piano, arching with a high-pitched cry as hot pleasure burst through you, from your deeply aching clit outwards, crackling through your fingers, all white-hot sparks and embers. Watching you convulse against him, angling his hips to rut his trapped cock tip, feeling his thighs and belly set alight with the force of his orgasm, his hands planted either side of you, back twitching as he came with a bark.

Still riding the last waves of your orgasm, you watched him in fascination. The sight of Hiromi's cum spurting in long, white ropes onto his navel and yours, his agonised, fractured gasps, had you humping against the underside of his cock again, dragging out your peak to hear him whimper, cock twitching against your core. Your hand drifted to his belly, stroking the cum between your fingertips in a blissful haze, squeezing a thumb under the foreskin of his exposed cockhead, stroking his slit with his own lubrication.

Hiromi convulsed and growled at you, clasping your hand against him, dopey and shaking as you drank his reaction from his eyes, thumb still circling his cockhead, slippery with his seed.

"St--st--aaaaahhh..." You shushed Hiromi's weak cries, grazing your tongue over his lips, delighted as he twitched in your hand, weak little spurts of cum oozing onto your fingers. Hiromi let you continue like this, for a few seconds, before wrenching your hand away, plaiting your fingers into his own and nuzzling into you furiously. His heart leapt to hear you giggle as he bit into you, still to desperate, everything still not enough to take away this pain and this filth and this misery--

His other hand wandered down, stroking down the rolls of your belly, pinching, nails grazing, digging in all the way to your belt, undoing it with military efficiency. Not bothering to undo the button, he yanked down the zip instead, giving him enough room to manoeuvre his hand between your skin and the fabric, shucking your underwear aside to cup the wet heat of your pussy in one long hand.

Dipping his hand out to collect the cum off your belly, he thrust his hand back inside against your pussy again, teeth gritted and bared as he drank down your reactions now. He was satisfied to see the playful glint in your eyes flicker, your eyebrows raised in shock and overstimulation, teeth sinking into your lip as he rubbed your clit roughly, cum-sticky fingers rubbing broad strokes side to side across it.

"--two can play at that game, sweetheart...feels good? More? Harder?" Hiromi pressed you, in these words you didn't understand, and laughed, darkly satisfied as you wiggled beneath his hands, one hand resting lightly on your throat as you tried in vain to scoot away from him, your breath releasing in airy whimpers.

"No answer?" Hiromi moved his fingers faster, harder, your pussy squelching with your mixed cum inside your trousers, feeling you writhe beneath them, "I'll decide for you then."

Hiromi urged your orgasm to build, faster and harder this time, teeth gritted as he dragged you to the edge, growling into you as his tongue flicked roughly over your nipple--

"--come on-- know you can do it-- I'll go as hard as you like, come on, good girl--ah, there-- good girrrrllll..." Hiromi softened his movements, fingers undulating against your pussy as he pulled another orgasm from you, moving one finger from your throat to dip into your mouth, shuddering as you sucked it around your cries and whimpers.

Hiromi felt his cock beginning to stir to life again, and he committed you to memory like this, draped over the piano, wet breasts heaving, his seed dripping down your belly, eyes glazed, body supple.

Another word, that he did know in English, slipped from him, as he dropped to his knees before you, worshiping at this otherworldly alter in the moonlight; "Beautiful."

You blushed, voice catching in your throat as Hiromi smiled up at you, soft and captive in his sincerity as he unbuttoned your trousers, easing them, with your underwear, gently to your ankles, and off. Feeling suddenly so exposed, so flawed, you squeezed your eyes shut. You felt Hiromi grip your ankle with such tenderness, pressing a long, languid kiss to the delicate bones on the inside.

"English," Hiromi called, beckoning you back to him. You shook your head, blushing, eyes still closed, and he insisted. "English, please--" your eyes opened, uncertain, and Hiromi hummed in satisfaction as he began to kiss his way up your inner legs, "--beautiful."

Sighing and leaning back, one arm over your eyes, your heart bursting with the oddity of having fallen in love like this, you felt safe behind your language barrier as you spoke without a filter; "Oh, Nose. I love you. I really do."

Hiromi paused, stunned and ecstatic, his lips still on your inner thigh. He shocked you both, at how quickly his grasp of your language had come along; "And I love you, English." Hiromi chuckled with genuine glee as you clapped your hands over your face, mortified. Hiromi nuzzled into you, wickedly playful, but soon overtaken by this violent urge again--

"And...I love--" you squealed as you felt Hiromi force your thighs apart, sinking his tongue and nose quickly between your folds, groaning as he tasted the heady mix of his and your cum around your clit. His cock, almost fully hard again, throbbed, tightening his waistband as the blood rushed to it again. Hiromi reached down, releasing his cock with a sigh.

He took his time, lifting your thighs over his shoulders as he lapped at you, dipping his tongue into your entrance, tasting you, teasing you. You leaned, watching him again, and he looked up at you, hooded eyes burning as he nuzzled his nose against your clit, and held his own cock in his hand, stroking slowly. You felt jolts of voyeuristic pleasure, watching him masturbate himself to the taste of you.

"I...I like that," you whispered to him, your hand moving down to graze your nails against his scalp. You watched Hiromi like pornography as he shuddered, his cock leaping in his hand, your eyes fixed intently on his hand gliding up and down his length as you felt your pleasure beginning to crescendo yet again.

"More, I--" you moved your hand in the air as if you were the one stroking Hiromi's cock, mimicking faster movements, "--faster, Hiromi." Hiromi hummed in understanding, groaning sandy little groans into your pussy now as his hand sped up, jacking himself off harder, feeling your pussy clench around nothing beneath his tongue as you watched him, your keening cries getting higher and higher until--

-- you came again, trembling with the fluttering soft pleasure of your third orgasm, thighs clamping around Hiromi's head as he sucked your clit gently between his lips. Hiromi panted, gripping the base of his cock, delaying his high, fingers wet with more pre-cum, desperate to drag you to the floor and finish using you.

Pulling his mouth away, his hands trembling on your thighs, Hiromi's face was unreadable as he looked at the floor. Standing, dishevelled and sweating, looking up at you with feral hunger, his cock still twitching in his hand, you could see the barest vestiges of Hiromi pleading you for permission, with those exquisite dark eyes--

All it took from you was a nod. Hiromi pounced, wiry arms deceptively strong as he lifted you, legs locked around his waist, nose nuzzling against yours, teeth nipping your lips with a rumble. Hiromi whispered his mother tongue against your mouth, reaching out one hand for his overcoat, and tossing it into the floor, before laying you on your front, sinking his teeth into your shoulder blade with bruising force.

"--you're beautiful, and you're good, and I don't deserve you-- fuck, I need you now, I--I need--"

Hiromi panted above you, barely restraining himself from slamming into you immediately as he looped an arm round your neck and chest, pulling you up and forcing your back to arch. Ghosting his nose over your ear, he whispered your name, making you shiver and squirm, certain you'd break unless you felt him inside you soon.

"Ready, English?" You trembled, nodding, head tipped back as his cock grazed against your slippery folds. One hand cupped your arse, stroking softly, before slapping, Hiromi captivated by its plush jiggle against his fingers, how you cried out, how your skin flushed so deliciously.

Not holding back, Hiromi slammed into you, one forearm planted to the floor while the other restrained you against him, cupping your breasts in one squeezing hand. He shook, cursing, his teeth in your shoulder, as he felt the tip of his cock kiss your gummy walls, feeling your pussy clench around him in shock.

Prone, hands clawing at his overcoat, Hiromi felt enormous inside you, so swollen and plush after waiting to be filled for so long. You whimpered, resting your head sideways against his clutching bicep, feeling the muscle tense and jump as he rammed into you at a relentless pace, still speaking husky reassurances to you in his native tongue.

"--rest, just-- keep still and let me hold you, I-- I can't slow down anymore--"

Feeling simultaneously used and protected, caged in like this for him to chase his own pleasure, your breath came in ragged gasps, both hands now clutching the forearm across your neck and chest, head swimming with the instinctively blissful fullness of his cock, tightly sleeved within you. You felt your belly jolt from the force of Hiromi's thrusts, and pressed up towards him, proud to hear him moan in response.

Hiromi fucked you with abandon, needing this release, needing to shed his sin and worthlessness, his heart leaping to feel you fall apart beneath him. His hips began to stutter, strength abandoning him as his orgasm approached, moaning deep breaking moans in your ear, nipping, holding your neck in his teeth.

His legs buckling beneath him, Hiromi cried out in bliss, his arm shaking around you, hips flush against your arse, cock twitching long, hot spurts of cum inside your walls, feeling you pulse around him, sucking him in. You revelled in the glorious feeling of him twitching deep inside you, your belly hot and clenching as his seed seeped out between your clenched thighs. Hiromi lay above you, panting, pressing soft kisses into your hair, using his arm to roll you sideways with him, covering you both with his overcoat.

With his arm beneath your head, the other lazily stroking the curve of your waist and hips, Hiromi laughed lazily behind you.

"You love me, English, hmm?" Hiromi laughed again as you clapped your hands to your face.

"Stop, Hiromi, stop--" you cried, blushing all the way to your toes as he squeezed you closer, "-- or I will shoot you." Hiromi lifted his head, peering mulishly at you, one eyebrow raised. You scowled, pointing to your gun, and then at him, and he gasped in mock horror.

"Ara ara," he rumbled, teasing you in alien words, "so violent when you're meant to be happy."

You remembered these sweet small hours the most, after the horrors that came. You remembered lying in each others' arms, sticky and teasing. You remembered sneaking to the bathrooms, splashing each other at the sinks as you cleaned up as best as you could. You remembered laughing as Hiromi cursed, trying to clean the residual cum off your clothes. You remembered Hiromi calling for you, afraid, anxious, before you ducked back up from behind the bar, your arms full of snacks and drinks. You remembered lying beneath the piano, gazing out across the city, flicking peanuts at each other, sharing slow, lazy kisses. You remembered naively seeing a future between you, a happy life with none of this unthinkable chaos.

It was your fault, you cursed yourself, vomiting and wracked with sobs, staggering away from the devastation. If you had been able to develop your power, and pose a real threat, Hiromi wouldn't have been burdened with such a liability.

Lost in each other again, nose to nose beneath the piano, your instincts had kicked in just fast enough to kick Hiromi away, saving his life as the floor between you both split with dreadful electricity. A strange-haired, wild-eyed boy burst through the room on a voltage, bottles smashing, the floor splitting, your rifle disappearing into the chasm as Hiromi shouted for you, urging you, ordering you-- you were sure, to move, to run, to save yourself and leave him.

You could do none of them, your military training meaning nothing to this god. You could do nothing when Hiromi stepped into his path, defending you, fighting tooth and nail. You could do nothing as the floors split beneath him, dragging them down in lightning flashes, horrifying rumbles. You had fled from the collapse, leaping flights of stairs one at a time, possessed by some strange force. You had not felt Hiromi again. Powerful though he was, you could not see how he could walk out of such a fight alive.

Putting all the dregs of your energy into hiding, refusing to let Hiromi's sacrifice be in vain, you cried yourself to sleep, nose in Hiromi's overcoat, his cum still cooling between your thighs.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Each day merged into the next. Time had lost meaning. While you had the urge to fight before loving Hiromi, to have loved and lost him broke you and the future you may have had. The battleground was no place for someone such as yourself now. You cursed the injustice of it all.

Cold, dirty and exhausted, your head rested sideways against an industrial bin, praying the rain would wipe your soul clean.

You had translated his business card, with your little dictionary--

Lawyer. Higuruma Hiromi, Criminal Defence Lawyer.

Knowing this detail of his life, a sweet overlay of understanding dawned upon you, his character suddenly so understandable, his anguish shooting through you like knives, and all too late, too late--

"...English?"

Your head jerked up, to the end of the alleyway. Silhouetted, dripping in the rain, bleeding and bruised but impossibly alive--

Your face crumpled, pressed into your wet sleeves, shaking. Slow splashing footsteps approached you, Hiromi kneeling in front of you, a hand coming out to graze through your hair.

He opened your dictionary, dusty and bloodstained, before flicking to a dog-eared page;

"Found you."

[midnightwriter21]

May I have one where Giyuu saves a 4 year old girl from a demon and thus decides to adopt her? The girl is very quiet, like Tomioka quiet but also very friendly and curious. She hates loud noises due to coming from an abusive home and is often found on Giyuu? Headcanons please

demon slayer hcs: giyuu's adopted daughter

characters: fem!reader x giyuu, the hashira

HOW THEY MEET

giyuu arrives at the location for his mission

it was reported that a lower class family had been turned into demons and were recking havoc on the small town they lived in

at nightfall giyuu approaches the home of the demon family and is greeted by the father and mother

as well as a human child

the two demon parents toy with the child

pushing her to the ground

pulling her hair

but when the father raises a clawed hand to her

giyuu takes the opportunity

before the strike can land on the childs face

the demons heads have already hit the ground

the child stares at the severed heads with a blank look

immediately giyuu is kneeling in front of her to block the line of sight

and he is assessing the damage done to her and asking

"do you have other family?"

the girl stays silent but shakes her head

he stands abruptly causing the child to flinch and his eyes soften

by now the sun has begun to rise and the bodies of the demons are gone

giyuu walks into the house to find anything of necessity for the child

and he is disgusted to see that even though the family had no obvious lack of money

the child was provided NOTHING of importance

feeling a small hand latch onto his haori he looks down

and with a sigh giyuu is carefully picking her up and beginning the walk back his estate

THEIR RELATIONSHIP

several months after the incident a meeting is called with the hashira

before leaving his estate Giyuu receives a letter

taking it from his crow and quickly reading it Giyuu walks to the backyard

sitting there amongst the flowers is the young girl he saved

he walks to her and reaches out a hand to help her up

she takes it, stands, and then motions for him to lean down

he does

and then she plops a flower crown on the top of his head

its messy and its more stems and leaves then flowers but giyuu allows it

together they leave the estate and begin the travel to the butterfly mansion for the meeting

standing outside of the mansion the child digs her heels into the ground due to her nervousness stopping giyuu in his tracks

he kneels to her height taking the makeshift crown from his head and placing it on hers

and then reaches out a hand

she takes it and then he opens the door to the mansion

MEETING THE OTHER SLAYERS

as the door opens and they step into the room hand in hand all heads turn to them

a small women with purple hair and a teasing smile is the first to speak, "you're late Tomioka"

before the other slayers can add to her comment

a man with a gentle voice speaks "he is late because I had a last minute request for him"

he turns to Giyuu

"is she here?"

the other slayers murmur their confusion

Giyuu just gently tugs the hand of the girl and pulls her from behind him with a "she is"

The man introduces himself as the leader of the demon slayer corps and then asks for her to be introduced to the other people in the room before giving a gentle smile and leaving

The slayers go around the room introducing themselves

Tengen, Mitsuri, and Obanai were nice enough

Muichiro was kind but reintroduced himself 3 times because he forgot what was happening

Sanemi was intimidating and angry

Shinobu was also very nice but the girl didn't like how she interacted with her adoptive parent so rudely

and Kyojuro was a bit too loud

soon enough the girl finds herself sitting in the lap of the love hashira having her hair braided while the rest of the hashira are poking fun at Giyuu

the girl sits there silently watching until Sanemi takes it a step too far

"the poor girl probably doesn't even like you! i sure fucking don't. she's probably miserable staying with y-"

"don't be mean to him!"

silence

its the first words she spoken since she walked through the door

running and latching onto Giyuu's leg she glares at Sanemi

"the only person I don't like is you!" before hiding her face in Giyuu's leg

no one says a word

until Tengen bursts out laughing lol

quickly Sanemi becomes the victim of teasing and Giyuu and the child are forgotten

Giyuu kneels down to her and puts a hand on her head

gives her a small smile quick enough so that no one else sees

picks her up and they head back home together

im soft for papa giyuu

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel:

Human!Alastor x Housewife!Reader

~Understanding Asexuality~

Warnings‼️- Established relationship, angst to fluff, mentions of pregnancy, fem!reader, maybe OOC Alastor??, mentions of cannibalism but only for like one sentence.

Setting is Alastor’s time period, 1900-1930s.

A/N: I hope I did Alastor’s character justice! He might be slightly out of character?? I can’t imagine him actually getting in a relationship, I mean man is literally a serial killer- so I tried- ENJOY

~I would also like to say, I am not asexual or aromatic myself. This is just my take on Alastor’s sexuality/how he handles it. If I made any mistakes, please correct me but I tried to be as respectful as possible. I tried to do some research on the history of asexuality during the time period, but remember I am not perfect and this is a FAKE scenario with a FICTIONAL character.~

You like to think you know your husband like the back of your hand.

The two of you got married young, falling hard for the young radio host was easy. Many other maidens had, their affections for Alastor painfully obvious. All the while Alastor had no plans on perusing any of the women who fancied him. He was love blind, not really understanding the amount of people attracted to him, or why they were.

What wasn’t to like? He was an attractive young man, charming, and a true gentleman. But the idea of settling down, having to commit himself to one individual the rest of his life, didn’t appeal to him.

Especially with how tainted his brain was with his little hobbies.

He never got the special feeling everyone spoke about. Butterflies, increased heart palpitations, sweaty palms. The mere thought of it was enough to have his face contorting in mild disgust.

That opinion didn’t change when he met you. There was no ‘love at first sight’ feeling for him. You were polite and put together and that was something Alastor could appreciate. He didn’t quite understand your advances towards him. Seeing your interest towards him as friendly banter, while you saw his reactions to it as rejection.

You accepted his dismissal of your feelings, knowing you had given it your best shot. It didn’t stop Alastor from adoring your company. Whether it be on the dance floor or attending the diner you worked at. You were an incredible friend to him, nothing more.

Safe to say, Alastor didn’t suddenly catch feelings for you. There was no sudden change in his feelings.

But there were whispers

Unwanted Attention being brought on Alastor.

Gossip was high. Many mouths questioning Alastor’s true intent with you. Why was he always along side such a pretty thing without courting her? Were the two of you involved in secret affairs?

The theories grew, and while Alastor loved the attention being a radio host brought him, gossip was bad if he needed to keep his personal life under wraps. Besides, what kind of gentleman would he be if he let others tarnish your good name? Getting with you was more of an effort to fit into norms rather than it being for ‘true love’.

Slowly he showed signs of affection towards you. Holding your hand in public, taking you on more proper dates, even kissing your cheek once or twice when he saw hushed whispers from nearby crowds. The affection was sudden, but not unwelcome to you. Your feelings had never truly gone away for the radio host, and you pinned his original rejections on him being shy.

It wasn’t long after his advances he asked your official partnership. To be frank, you were easy and Alastor needed a cover. His true intentions were cruel, but you were blindsided by your longtime crush and friend being interested in you.

But you weren’t completely naïve.

While yes, you loved Alastor with all your heart, you knew in the back of your mind he had ulterior motivations. Every chaste kiss, every hand hold, every hug, felt rushed and nervous. Your whole relationship with Alastor felt fast paced, as only a few months after having the gall to ask you out, he was asking you to marry him.

It felt forced.

The feeling you tried to ignore, hoping it was just your insecurities causing the sinking feeling in your gut. You of course said yes to Alastor’s proposal. Knowing deep down you loved him and should not question if he did so in return.

Before you knew it, you were dressed in white in front friends and family, listening to wedding bells chime gleefully.

You could recall joyous laughter and dancing, talking about your soon future with the radio host whose last name you had now shared. Sharing drinks with friends to celebrate you ‘winning’ over Alastor. It all moved so fast yet you were happy with the results.

Alastor couldn’t have agreed more considering the chatter about the two of you had died down ever since his proposal. (Besides a few heartbroken maidens who heard the handsome host was officially off the market) Less eyes were on him which was good for the estranged hobbies he would indulge in.

You and Alastor moved in together and it felt like smooth sailing.

Until the next thing people expected from the two of you. That of course being children.

Alastor and you would constantly hear all about the subject from your mother, who was desperate to have some grandkids running around. At the mention of children you felt flustered and embarrassed, considering you and Alastor had yet to be intimate with one another.

It was through the subject, however, that sinking feeling returned. As your mother rambled on about grandchildren, you occasionally piped in with your own opinion. When your husband realized having children was something you actually wanted, you caught him grimacing at the idea.

The look he gave made your heart feel heavy in your chest. The sinking only worsened when he begrudgingly agreed with your mother, saying how the two of you would provide her with grandchildren with time.

Forced.

You felt guilty. You knew Alastor was lying with his words. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to seduce your husband before. It was actually something you expected to happen and for the radio host to initiate.

Alastor would be lying if he said he didn’t start to feel genuine fondness towards you. You knew him well, better than any other friend he had.

You knew his schedule, his habits, his preferences. It scared him how much you could read his mind like a book. All the reason more to keep you sheltered away from how cruel of a man he truly was.

You were simply too good for him. Too innocent.

But when it came to intimacy, the radio host showed absolutely no interest. Coming up with one excuse after another to not be intimate with you. His rejection left you feeling unwanted and almost abandoned. Your own husband didn’t seem to enjoy your affections and it hurt your heart. You started to question if you were the cause of his discomfort. Was he just not attracted to you? Were you being too pushy?

Your mind even wandered to the late nights Alastor would stay out. Was he seeing someone else, perhaps? He could have anyone he wanted really, despite your marriage, there were many women who would still flirt with him. Had one caught his eye that he favored over you?

Anxiety and insecurity riddled your body for a long time before you started to search for possible answers. After work, you would head to a library of the outskirts of town. You didn’t want anyone you knew possibly catching you wildly scanning through books for possible answers.

The library didn’t provide much comfort. You found unsatisfactory answers, many of which ended in advice on how to ‘properly seduce a man’.

You didn’t want to force your husband to be intimate with you. Making desperate attempts that would ultimately be denied as they had been in the past.

You dug a little deeper, with a lot of the same results. You were just at your wits end with all the repetitive failure to find anything that felt right. However, one article caught your eye. A book that had dusted over from the lack of acknowledgment. Out of luck you reached for it, hoping to find any answers. Reading through the contents, it opened a whole new world of terminology and knowledge about a community you didn’t know existed.

You found comfort knowing there were possibly other people like your husband. That his rejections could possibly be the cause of something else other than you. You decided to take the article home with you, along with a few others, to read into it more at home.

————————————————————————

Through your research, you had started to understand your husband’s behavior more and more. You wouldn’t truly know the answers unless you had simply asked him, but at the same time, it felt better to consider this an option than to believe something was wrong with your marriage.

There were other people who exhibited traits your husband showed when it came to intimacy. Those who didn’t enjoy such pleasures or desires. It was a spectrum, one that you had never heard of. But it all made sense the more you read into different people’s experiences.

Some people’s stories you read stated how intimacy rarely crossed their mind. Before, you had only heard stories of friends being hyper sexual, with high sex drive that would oftentimes cause high gossip. It made sense that there were bound to be people at the other end of the stick, who felt the opposite. Of course they could acknowledge it was a thing. However the need/want to experience such things would rarely and sometimes never spark. It didn’t make these people strange or less human, it was simply how they felt.

You hear the door swing open, interrupting your thoughts. You swear to yourself silently, hurrying to close the books and articles you were reading up on. You shove the disorganized papers into the large book, then shove it underneath the table, out of view. You stand, brushing off your dress, and quickly go over to the stove.

“Hi honey! You’re home early.” You shout across the house to your husband. You grab your apron, messily tying the back of it.

“Oh I finished up early today, thought you would enjoy the surprise.” Alastor’s voice responds, his footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Grabbing a pot, you fill it with water as Alastor enters the room. He approaches you, putting a finger under your chin and bringing you closer. He gives your cheek a small peck, his fingers barely grazing your hip.

Forced.

You smile towards your lover, setting the full pot over the unlit stovetop. Adrenaline runs through your veins as you watch Alastor go and sit at the table. You clear your throat, avoiding looking at your husband. You open up the cabinets, looking around for ingredients to start on supper.

“How was your day, love?” You ask, trying to be as casual as you could. Alastor caught on to your anxiety, but decided to ignore it. He hummed, adjusting his glasses on his face.

“As normal as any other, dear. There was actually quite the crazy story, today about-..” Alastor went on about his radio show and the topics he had covered. You nod occasionally to show you could hear him, but his words didn’t really process in your head. You couldn’t focus with you heart drumming in your ears. Pulling out random ingredients from the cabinets, trying to think of anything to make for dinner, Alastor continues to speak. His voice a source of comfort despite him unknowingly being the cause of your anxious behavior.

“..they apparently continued their actions anyway! Don’t these men have any class? I swear to you the nerve of… some.. folk..” You tuned back into Alastor’s rambling just as he hear him start to trail off. You hear his seat pull back, making a creaking noise as he leans back and looks under the table. Feeling his gaze on you for a moment, you don’t dare to look back at your husband. He had seen what you tried to poorly hide.

Alastor leans down, grabbing the book with articles sticking out of the side. He hums, opening the book a skimming over the contents of what he found.

“Darling, what’s all this?” He asks, eyebrows furrowing as he read through the article. Tensing at his tone, you avoid looking towards him and keep quiet. Your mind racing almost as fast as your heart. Your voice was caught in your throat, trying to come up with an excuse. Any excuse.

It takes a moment to gain your composure. Eventually you speak, after clearing your throat in an attempt to get rid of the lump stuck there.

“I was just.. doing some reading.. on uhm..” Gosh, this was embarrassing to admit. Your face flushes to pink as you continue, “I just had some concerns.. I suppose I was feeling a bit insecure about our relationship-..”

“Our relationship?” Alastor questions, staring daggers into your back. His tone showing signs of irritation and discomfort. You turn towards your husband. There was no hiding how you felt now. You couldn’t lie to him when he had the evidence in his hands.

“I.. suppose I was worried.. for my own selfish reasons. I got to wondering why you didn’t seem attracted.. to me.” Alastor glares slightly at your words, drumming his fingers against the table. He knew exactly what you meant with your words, his nose instinctively cringing up in mild disgust. He opens his mouth to speak again, but is cut off quickly by you.

“I know it’s something silly to be concerned about, it shouldn’t be a concern at all. I shouldn’t have questioned you. Dare I say it was wrong of me.” You quickly tried to explain to ease your husbands silent anger.

Alastor stayed quiet, teeth gritting as his all too fake smile cracked at the seems. He felt on edge. He couldn’t have you questioning him like this, opening him up and making him vulnerable. You made him question how well he was really hiding his true identity. You could tap in to what he was feeling and it irked him. He cleared his throat, interwining his fingers together to create a cradle for his chin to sit.

“I don’t see how your concerns are important, dear. Our relationship is fine without such activities. Do you not believe that to be true? I love you, do I not?” Alastor asked, a small smile plastered on his face.

Forced

“Do you?” You find yourself asking before you can process the question yourself. Alastor’s wide eyes make you replay your words. You gasp, covering your mouth with both hands. What were you thinking??

Both you and your husband stay quiet for a period of time, staring at each other with wide eyes. Alastor breaks his gaze, looking towards the wallpaper design in the kitchen that suddenly interested him. Your voice catches in your throat. It felt like you couldn’t speak for what felt like forever. Heavy weight on your chest when you uttered the question you’d been keeping inside since you said your I do’s.

Taking a breath to regain yourself, you look towards the stove. Scattered abandoned ingredients of what dinner was supposed to be left there. You glance towards Alastor, voice barely a whisper as you speak to him.

“I understand..” Your muttered voice doesn’t reach him, causing him to look at you and turn his head. You see him in your peripheral vision, then repeat yourself;

“I understand if you don’t.. or if you don’t want to partake in any.. intimate actions with me..” You start, grabbing a potato that had been abandoned on the counter. You start to rinse it under the sink water.

“From what I’ve read, you’re not alone. There apparently are men and women alike who don’t share an interest for sexual acts and behaviors. You’re not the only one..”

“I’m not accusing you of anything.. I’m not trying.. to make you feel bad. I just wanted to understand.. and I do. Please let me.”

Alastor stares at you while you speak. His silence feels like rejection. The same rejection you felt when you had first met him, but this was worse. Your heart ached, your chest felt tight, and your eyes felt like they were drowning in welled up tears.

You loved Alastor.

But never would you force him to return it.

You hear your husband stand from his place at the table, slow steps walking towards you. You feel his presence behind you. You silently prepare yourself for an onslaught of ‘how dare you’s and ‘who do you think you are’s.

Instead you feel warm hands hook underneath your arms, pulling you back towards Alastor’s body. Your body tenses, as you drop the vegetable you were once washing into the sink. Alastor leaned forward, resting his nose in the crook of your neck. Leaning down and hugging you tight.

Flood gates open as soft tears spill down your flushed cheeks. You gently hold onto Alastor’s arm with one hand, trying to stay perfectly still as if your husband were a stray animal. As if you move, he’d flinch away.

Alastor pulls away from your neck, looking at your face. His hand reaches up, standing straight, as he caresses one of your cheeks. He smears the tears across your cheek in an attempt to wipe them away, before leaning into you. Breath hitting yours before his lips meet yours.

Authentic

You’d never felt such a gentle and loving kiss from your husband. It felt so genuine and kind. You kiss back weakly, only hoping to make him feel the warm feeling he gave you.

Alastor never truly did understand his admiration for you. He never regretted marrying you. Of course you were always a good friend for him, one that he would work hard to keep safe. To keep you hidden away from who he was. Your happiness was always in the back of his mind as an essential. Sure he hated how you read him so easily, like it was second nature. But he hated it because if you knew the truth, you wouldn’t be safe.

He hated it because a part of him did love you.

Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor keeps you close to him, watching more soft tears fall down your face. He brings his other hand up, letting you face him while he grabs out a handkerchief from his pocket. Gently dabbing away the tears on your face, he looks at you with such soft eyes. Such genuine eyes.

“Thank you.” Is all he says. It wasn’t a satisfying answer. You wanted more than anything a long list of answers to all your worries.

But invisible weight lifts off your shoulders. Closing your eyes and letting out a breath that felt much deserved to let go. It was a solution, an answer no matter how much it truly did explain. You had made an effort to understand your husband, when most would force their ways through the barriers he set around himself. That was something Alastor could appreciate.

He never understood why you took the time in your life to be patient. Be understanding. How an angel like you ended up with the demon he was.

But he hoped you wouldn’t regret it just the way he never regretted you.

——————————BONUS———————————

“…and I told her, if she ever had a problem with him again, take it up with me! And just like that, her husband was on a platter! Such a shame, his body was almost as disgusting as his behavior!”

Alastor sipped his tea as he listened to Rosie ramble. He never broke his gaze away from her, hanging on to every word she had to say. He delicately set down his cup on the porcelain saucer. Everything about Rosie.. her charm, her personality, her humor.

It all lead back to the thought of you. Someone he admired and felt comfortable with.

“Are you alright, Al? You’re kinda gawking over there..” Rosie asked, practically seeing the gears turning in Alastor’s head. Alastor blinked out of his thoughts, watching Rosie give a smile at him and tilt her head.

“I’m fine, dear, it’s just..” Alastor glanced to the side, his signature smile softening into something genuine. “You remind me of someone.” He explained quietly.

The mention raised Rosie’s interest, ready for any gossip Alastor had to spill. She leaned in close, grinning ear to ear. “Ooo! Don’t be shy, who do I remind ya of?”

Alastor looked at Rosie and he could’ve sworn that in her midnight eyes, he could see yours. Staring back at him through his soul. How could he describe you? Someone who just knew him despite how hard he tried to hide. Someone who acknowledged him over and over again despite his own uncertainties.

“She was the dearest darling to ever grace the earth.” Alastor found himself muttering. Rosie melted at the compliment he not only gave you, but her as well. She saw genuine adoration in the radio demons eyes when he spoke of you.

While what you had with Alastor wasn’t entirely real, he wouldn’t have exchanged your marriage for anything. After all, when everyone else didn’t and refused to.

You understood.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc.

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

You sweep in with an armful. Two! You push through the door with your ass and barely keep from falling onto it. As ever, you enter in a whirlwind of to dos and currently being dones. You breeze over to your desk and carefully lower your load, blowing out through your lips. Whew. 

You peer over at the office door. The place is desolate. You’re always the first in, the last one gone. You can blame your boss’ high standards but that’s not fair. You put just as much pressure on yourself. 

You unlock Mr. Hansen’s office door and set about sorting through your list. You hang his suit jackets that you picked up last night and put the new pair of Prada loafers he ordered on the little rack across the bottom. Then you bring in his usual coffee in the gold insulated mug engraved with the company logo. Then you set out that special little treat you spent your morsel of free time baking. 

You carefully place the numbered candles on the mini cheesecake and stand with a proud smile. You never forget to dot and i or cross a t. You think that’s why you’ve lasted longer than any other PA under Hansen’s wise guidance. You anticipate his needs before they even come up. 

You hear him coming and light the candles before you rush to the door. You swiftly step outside and out of his way as he shoves his briefcase into your arms and tosses his jacket at you. You catch the latter and wait for him to enter before you trail after him. You put his briefcase on his desk as he goes around the other side and swiftly hang his jacket with his freshly cleaned suits. 

He noisily flicks back the lid of the travel mug then let out a hum. You know that hum. He’s not happy. He hasn’t even tasted it. What’s the problem. You turn and smooth the ruffles of your polka dot skirt. 

“Sir? Is the coffee not hot enough?” 

“What the fuck is this?” He stares at his desk with a sneer. 

“Sir?” 

“What the fuck!” He raises his voice. 

“Oop! Happy birthday, sir!” You trill and come closer, peeking past his iMac at the flickering flames on the 4 and the 6. 

He snarls at the candles and picks up the waxy 6. You blink, surprised by his reaction. You don’t understand. It’s a nice birthday surprise.  

“Sir, It’s tiramisu cheesecake. I know you like the stuff from down at White’s but--” 

He throws the little candle at you and the melting wax drips on your ruffled collar. You cry out and catch it as the flame goes out. He does the same with the other and scalds your inner arm. You cradle the candles as he takes the cakes and tosses it like a frisbee toward the door. You gulp. 

You’ve seen Mr. Hansen angry before. It’s his favourite emotion but it’s never been because of you. His blue eyes narrow at you and he curls his lips. 

“I don’t need some young fucking bimbo like you reminding me how old I am,” he snaps and picks up the travel mug, slurping loudly, “get the fuck out of my sight. And clean that up.” 

“I’m sorry, sir, I thought--” 

“You thought?” He barks, “not hard enough, hips.” 

You wince. His little pet names aren’t as sweet as they might seem and he rarely hurls them at you. No, he calls the women in the copier room sugar tits and baby, but not you. You look down at your skirt, the frills don’t make you seem any less wide. His reminder of your size stings, not that you hate yourself, but he can be so nasty. 

“Yes, sir,” you answer brightly. 

He sighs and falls into his large leather chair. He mutters into the cup as you go off to grab paper towel to clean up the desecrated cheesecake. You return with the wastebasket from beside your desk and set to wiping up the ruins. 

“You really need to make those things look any bigger? I should send you down to HR,” he snips. 

You look up, confused. You shake your head as you put another clump in the bin, “Mr. Hansen?” 

“Whatever that is...” he gestures to his collar and you look down at your ruffly collar, “it’s not doing you any favours.” 

“Thank you, sir, I’ll donate the blouse,” you agree. 

“Even the poor idiots down at Goodwill don’t deserve that,” he scoffs. 

He’s in a mood. You’re not prepared for it. You assumed his birthday would be a happy day. It’s your own fault for trying to predict him. He’s hard to account for.  

You finish up and grab the roll of towels and the bin. You stand and something flies over your shoulder. You flinch and turn to look down at his golden pen. You stare, perplexed. 

“Well, pick it up, hips.” You shrug and obey. As you bend over, he chortles, “damn, wide load.” 

You snap up, embarrassment singing your neck and cheeks. You turn and hurry over to place the pen on his desk. You dip your head and quickly retreat. 

“Ah, cheeks, don’t be so shy. Some guys like the extra cushion,” he snickers. 

“Sir, can I get you anything else?” You stop by the door. It’s better not to feed into his little game. This is fun for him. 

“Some fucking peace and quiet. Get out.” 

You don’t hesitate to do exactly that. You shut the door and cross to your desk. You put the bun down and swerve towards the break room to put the towels away. You return to your desk and sit, recentering yourself as you ready yourself for the daily rundown. Before you can open up the calendar, a notification pops up in the corner.  

Mr. Hansen? 

You click on it and revealed in the chat is a picture of your ass as you bend over to grab the pen. You cringe. He can see that you read the message. The little eye icon pops down beside the picture. 

‘Cancel my nine o’clock’ his next message pops up. 

‘Yes, Mr. Hansen,’ you type back. 

His dot turns to red. Unavailable. Right. He is bristly this morning, it’s best he doesn’t have anyone else around to provoke him. 

[morphodae]

🩷Waking Up Beside Them🩷 (HSR Women)

The long awaited female character version of this post

The ones who bask in the tranquil atmosphere as they wake before you. The soft lull of their voice threatens to drag you back into slumber. It doesn’t help, either, when they play with the strands of your hair, caress your face, and all but coo at the state of your sleepiness. You can’t blame them for how precious you are, now can you? It’s a beautiful sight to see their lovestruck gaze as the first thing to greet your eyes in the morning.

“Hehe, sorry, my love. You simply can’t blame me for how lovely you are. If there’s nothing pressing, let’s stay here a while and enjoy each other’s company, okay?”

Hanya, Himeko, Kafka, Tingyun

The ones who are far too energetic in the morning for their own good. They are, perhaps, too motivated to start the day. Yet, their sunny optimism is a welcome delivery— especially if you’ve had a long, stressful week. They nearly hop out of bed while you’re practically dragged with them. They only relent when you plop back under the sheets and continue sleeping soundly until the next time you awake. Once you finally wake for the day and wander into the kitchen, they’re already stuffing their face; a bit of flour from cooking is stuck humorously on the top of their nose.

“Good morning! I just finished making breakfast for us! Oh but uh, if you’d like something else, just lemme know!”

Guinafen, March 7th, Serval

The ones who sometimes scare you; they practically sleep like the dead and you’d think they exited the land of living, too, were it not for their soft snores and drool on the corner of their mouth. It’s such an amusing sight to see, you do your best to hold back a humorous snort. They let out a grumble of protest when you try to prod them awake and you pay the price when they begin clinging to you or their pillow in a tight grip.

“…huh? Jus’… five more minutes, ‘kay? We don’t have anything to do so… *yawn* just stay with me……. Please?”

March 7th, Qingque, Sushang, Silver Wolf, Stelle

The ones who are gone long before you awake. Their duties must always come first and no amount of temptation from you or the comfort of the space you share can pry them back into your arms. Truly, they feel bad, but— duty calls, and they mustn’t abandon it. Perhaps, they think, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to make it up to you later. They could show you around the planet, take you to get something to eat, or do anything you’d like on their next day off.

“I’m sorry for leaving so early, there were things I had to take care of. Oh? You don’t mind? Well, it still isn’t fair to leave you alone for so long and so frequently, too. How about I take a day: just you and I, doing anything we want. Does that sound alright with you?”

Bronya, Fu Xuan, Hanya, Jingliu, Natasha, Pela, Seele, Yukong

[waveworn-rover]

I'M A NASTY DOG! Pt.1

Fleeting touches and breathless kisses, they just can't seem to let you out of their sight. You know what happens next, don't you?

Content: 18+ sexual content (minors don't interact please), all content will be consensual :)

Description: wlw established relationships (fem!reader), plot with smut, fingering (changli), Jinhsi has a cock, strap-on use (rover), hinted rough(ish) sex (rover), pussy eating (zhezhi), vibrator use (baizhi).

Characters: Changli, Jinhsi, Fem!Rover, Zhezhi, Baizhi

Note: Part 1 of a two part fic and my first smut fic ever (yipee), I wanted to write for the wuwa women due to the lack of fics so i made a whole blog for them lmao. This is kinda experimental since I'm not used to writing smut, so it'll be a mix of plot and smut. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

Changli

The harsh winds that descend upon the snowy lands of Mt.Firamament have done nothing to ease your anxiety. You shiver, hugging your frost-bitten body as you blindly walk around, searching for your lover. Changli had been uncontactable for the past few weeks, ever since she had gone to Mt.Firamament with the rover. She told you not to worry, "It's but a simple matter, my love. I'll be back before you know it." What a lie that was.

Upon hearing the news of a blast occurring on the mountain, resulting in the time barrier placed by the sentinel to be removed, you had expected Changli to return to you by now- but to no avail. Which brings you here now, in the snowy plains of Mt.Firamament, using a tracker to find your lover. But as the surroundings grow colder and your body grows weaker, you make the crucial decision to stumble into a cave to take cover from the harsh weather. Cold and very much fatigued, you slump against the cave wall, soon falling asleep.

You don't know how much time has passed, but you wake up to the feeling of warmth- one that seems all to familiar.

"Seems that you're awake now, hm?"

You startle, looking up to find Changli sitting across from you, a tense smile on her face. "Changli! How did you- I-," you stutter, scrambling up to hold her close. She all but chuckles, moving closer to you.

"Naughty girl, didn't I tell you time and time again not to worry about me?" Changli coos, brushing your hair back to get a better look at your tired face. "Now look at you, dirty and hurt from the harsh weather. Tsk- you seem to forget that you can't keep yourself warm without me."

You whimper shamefully, yes- you had fully known that she was more than capable of keeping herself alive in this place. Her forte is useful for keeping her body warm amidst the snowy mountain. Yet you couldn't help but worry, she was your lover after all.

"I'm sorry... I was just- I was worried."

Changli merely hums, pulling you closer to her warmth. You feel the heat emitting from her body, and the feeling of her warm lips as she kisses yours. "It seems that you're still cold, my love." Your eyes widen as you become trapped under her cunning gaze. "Let me warm you up."

"O-oh...!" You let out a soft gasp, your back arching as Changli grabs your ass. "Changli, wait- ah!" She flips you onto your back, carefully laying you down on the soft pelt of fur below you. She wastes no time in removing your underwear as her hungry mouth attacks your bare neck, marking you up. All you could do is moan pathetically, your body writhing under her hot touch.

Her hand spares no moment to waste, fingers dancing across your sensitive skin. Your legs tremble as you feel her touch against your aching folds, desperate to be pleased. You moan out her name, your voice shaky with anticipation. "Relax for me, darling.", she whispers into your ear, a subtle command for you to give her access into your warm hole. Her sultry voice, paired with those warm fingers of hers gave you no room for disobedience.

In a matter of mere seconds, she had you trembling and shaking, her warm fingers thrusting into your wetness with a fury that could rival her flames. The sound of skin against skin, the brush of her palm roughly bumping against your sensitive clit was proving too much to bear. You grip her other arm tightly, your eyes watering from the pleasure.

"C-changli...! Please- please don't stop!"

Changli pants above you, your whorish moans make her pulse with desire. Leaning down, she kisses you with fervor, angling her wrist so that her fingers hit that spot in you that's just right. Your body tenses and you grab onto her, your nails raking down her smooth back. With a precise thrust into your pussy, she presses down on your sweet spot, making you cum. Your back arches into her body and you moan loudly, but it's alright. After all, no one else but her can hear your screams of pleasure in this cave. Changli eases you through the orgasm before slowly pulling her fingers out. Still leaning over you, she sensually licks her slick-coated fingers, making you shudder.

"Good girl..."

Some people praise Changli for her behaviour, in which when she sets her sights on something, she doesn't stop until its in her grasp. Well, you suppose you can thank her for that when you both went for a couple more rounds, perhaps... five more. By the time she brought you to your last orgasm, you were nothing more than a moaning mess sprawled on the pelt. Changli didn't seem fazed at all, a slight blush on her face, maybe her back had been scratched up by you, paired with lips turning red from how much you both kissed.

Changli laid beside you, pulling you closer. You snuggled into her embrace, earning a thoughtful hum from her.

"Thank you... for coming out here to ensure I was safe. I don't want you to do it again, but still, thank you.", she mumbled, voice laced with affection and worry. She won't let you risk your life like that for her, not any more.

"I'll take a week off once we get home."

You smile, kissing her soft skin. Although you were too tired to speak, lacing your fingers with hers let's her know all that she needs to know. Changli smiles, tightening her grip on your hand.

"I've been away from your touch for too long, my flame."

Jinhsi

The magistrate of Jinzhou has always been a busy person. With workloads of documents to read, varying problems of the people to listen to paired with her own self doubts, Jinhsi was the busiest woman in Jinhzou. Though she spends her days hunched over her desk in the ministry office or making her feet sore by traversing the whole city, her one salvation comes in the form of her lover- you.

With another round of work completed, Jinhsi sighs tiredly as her day ends. She misses you dearly, noting how she barely had time to head home these past few days due to her job. Jinhsi adjusts herself in her seat before reaching out for her terminal to call you. As usual, you answer in the blink of an eye, never one to keep your lover waiting.

"Jinhsi! How are you, darling?"

Jinhsi stiffles her growing grin, ecstatic to hear your voice. She coughs lightly, clearing her throat before replying.

"I'm doing well, my love. In fact, I've just completed my work and should be free for tonight. I'll be home soon."

Jinhsi can't help but smile broadly as she hears your happy squeal from the terminal. How she missed witnessing your happiness in person, at least she'll be home soon. A few minutes of chatter later, you both hang up the call. Jinhsi heads down the hall, confirming her leave with Sanhua before finally heading home to you.

As soon as Jinhsi gets home, she opens the door, bracing herself for an onslaught of your affection but instead, there was no one to greet her. Confused and mildly disappointed, she calls out your name, searching through the house for your presence. After minutes of searching the house to no avail, Jinhsi barges into the bedroom. A chocked sound escapes her lips as her jaw slacks in shock to find you laying on the bed, dressed in lingerie that barely covers your body, a familiar collar dangling in hand.

"Welcome home, dearest magistrate. Or should I call you...puppy?"

Jinhsi breaks into a full blown blush, stuttering and jumbling her words. You all but chuckle, amused at her reaction. Perhaps it has been quite some time since you've both last made love, it seems that she has forgotten her place- under you. You rise from the bed and saunter over to the distressed and evidently horny woman, clicking the collar in place to her neck, giving it a nice, deliberate pull.

"Ah-"

Jinhsi doesn't even have time to retaliate, her lips immediately being engulfed with yours. She doesn't fight your dominance, letting you take control of her pleasure. You grip her hips, pulling her even closer to you. Your bodies press against each other, letting you feel her breasts against yours and, well, her protruding cock.

"Looks like my sweet girl is getting impatient. Let me take care of that..."

Pinning her against the door, you kneel down to face her crotch. You come face to face with her adorable boner, chuckling softly when Jinhsi whines in embarrassment. You pull down her underwear, watching her cock slap against her tummy, precum leaking from the pink tip. You press a teasing kiss to her stiff cock, earning you a desperate groan from her.

"Please...d-don't tease me..."

You raise an eyebrow at her shy plea, standing up. You kiss up her neck, your ears blessed by her soft mewls of pleasure. Without further ado, you pick Jinhsi up and carry her to the bed. She let's out an unexpected squeal, holding you tightly. You lay her on the plush bed, leaning over her anticipating frame. Her body shivers, cock rock hard as she waits for your next command. You smirk knowingly, spreading your legs, giving her a glimpse of your wetness.

"I'm going to ride you now, pup. Are you ready?"

Jinhsi nods, too shy for words. Her usual calm demeanor is nowhere in sight, instead replaced by a fumbling mess, desperate for her lover.

"Words, darling. I need to hear your consent.", you drawl, resting your hips right above her cock. Jinhsi whines, grabbing at your thighs. "I'm ready- I'm ready! Please...!"

You snort in amusement, the ever so powerful magistrate of Jinzhou reduced to a mere mess, all for you. The sight turns you on even more as you align her cock with your folds. The gathered arousal between you both made the penetration slick and painless, filling you all the way. Jinhsi snaps her hips into you in reflex, unable to control her body in liu of the sensation of your gummy walls.

You shudder, feeling her cock twitch inside you. With a groan, you lean forward to capture her wrists in your hands, pinning her arms over her head. Now reigning full control, you slam your hips into hers, bringing full pleasure to you both.

"Oh, puppy... such a good- ah! Such a good girl for me..."

Jihnsi could do nothing but snap her hips to meet yours while she herself whined pathetically. Soon, the combined movement brought your pleasure to the peak as you both came at the same time. Slowly, you rise up, panting above her. A mixture of your combined cum drips out of your pussy and onto her belly, earning a shudder from the whinpering woman. Jinhsi whines at the loss of your warmth, immediately clinging onto you. You laugh, caressing her head as you pepper her face with soft kisses.

"Welcome home, my dear Jinhsi."

Fem!Rover

For the past few days, you and Rover have been traveling around the outskirts of Jinzhou on a quest to complete missions for the pioneer association. Given that Rover didn't have any major plans, you both had agreed to help the pioneer association with some light work, that being taking down tacet discords. As a resonator yourself, Rover was confident enough in your abilities to let you follow her. Still, she was somewhat protective of you, but you don't mind. You find it attractive when she helps you out in combat, giving you a chance to admire her muscular build.

Caught up in your daydream, you fail to notice an injured spearback approaching you from behind, it's claws gleaming with the intent to strike you down.

"Watch out!"

You gasp, turning around at the right moment to find Rover slicing the tacet discord's paw off before finishing off the monster. Your breath shudders and you feel weak in the knees. Unconsciously, you grip onto her outfit. Rover immediately holds you in her strong arms, pulling you close to inspect you for any harsh wounds. After checking that you were unhurt, she let's out a soft sigh, hugging you tightly as you tremble.

"You're alright... I told you that I wouldn't let any harm come towards you, didn't I?" Rover chuckles softly, but you could hear the strain in her voice. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak in this moment.

"Come, let's collect our reward from the pioneer association. Then we can finally go home for tonight."

It was nightfall when you both arrived at the association's main building, luckily you were able to claim the... 'special' reward, as they called it. You're not sure what's so special about it, but considering it was a wrapped box, you had to wait until later at home to open it up. You yawn, holding onto Rover's arm as you both walked to your shared home.

Once arriving home, you take a shared bath before taking some time to relax in the living room. As you sip your drink, Rover sits beside you, holding the box in hand. Leaning your head on her shoulder, you prompt her to open it up. To your honest surprise, the special reward was something you never expected.

"Is... Is that a strap-on?"

Rover didn't reply right away, making you look up at her. Her face was impassive, but a bright blush adorned the tip of her ears.

"Rover? Are you alright?" You reach out, brushing your fingers against her cheek. Rover takes hold on the strap-on, turning it around in her hands before she turned to you.

"I want to use the strap-on. Now.", she growled out, her arm holding your waist to keep you close. You could see the how serious she was as you looked into her eyes- it was akin to staring at a hungry predator. You stuttered, feeling your heart beat faster as your body heated up with the familiar feeling of arousal.

"Please."

"...oh," you mumbled softly as your foreheads connect, letting you feel her breath against your lips, "I don't mind... I mean, we should make the most out of the reward, right?"

Quicker than you could comprehend, Rover claimed your lips with hers as she lifted you up with an arm, holding the strap-on in her other hand. You cling onto her, the sound of your combined whimpers and her groans echoing through the house as you made way to the bedroom. She laid you on the bed, giving you time to undress as she fastened on the harness.

Rover wasted no time in prepping you for the strap-on. She lifts your hips, using her hands to hold your lower body up as she eats you out. You cry out in surprise, gripping blindly at the sheets as her tongue prods your sensitive entrance, showing no mercy in her attempts to be drenched in your arousal. In less than 5 minutes, she makes you cum for the first time tonight, your arousal dripping down her chin. Her golden eyes gleam with satisfaction, taking note of how your body trembles for her.

"I love the way you taste," she groans, adjusting your body to line the faux cock with your folds, "but I like it better when you (s)cream for me."

With that, she thrusts the cock into you, your orgasm from earlier aiding in the penetration, leaving you with nothing but the feeling of being full. As time passed, the sounds of sex amplify in your bedroom. The bed creaks with your passion as Rover fucks you deep, hitting your good spot over, and over, and over again. The harsh collision of her body with yours sends jolts of pleasure to your clit, making you moan out and cling to her as she ravages your body. She takes you- claims you with an almost primal look in her eyes. She spares your body almost no mercy, biting and sucking your neck as well as gripping onto your thighs till her nails form crescent moon shapes on your skin.

"R-rover! Ah- haAh! Please don't s-stop, want you to cum in me!"

Your delirious bable stuns her for a brief second, causing you to whine in confusion. She pants above you and the moment you see that look in her eyes- the golden gleam intensifying, you know you're done for. She holds you closer, her lips right next to your ear.

"Bite my shoulder if it gets too much. I don't want the neighbours complaining about the noise you'll make when I breed you."

You nearly scream when her hips snap into you, the faux cock kissing your cervix. Doing as she told, you bite her shoulder as she absolutely rams into you, her strength unwavering. She brings you to your high multiple times, only stopping to ensure you were alright to continue after a water break and resuming the feral fucking soon after. By the time you were spent, legs shaking and drool dripping down your chin, it was almost close to dawn.

With care, Rover takes out the strap-on from your quivering hole, earning a tired moan from you. Discarding the harness, she adjusts your body as you both lay down together in bed, preparing for sleep. After a much needed glass of water for you both, you snuggle up to your lover, content and happy to be in her embrace. Rover was quite for a while, drawing circles on your back to lull you to sleep.

"You almost got badly hurt today," she mumbles solemnly. You tense, a frown on your face. "I'm sorry, I got distracted."

Rover hums in response, her grip om you tightening. Yet her touch was not painful, it was comforting. "I promised to keep you safe, but you have to help me out too, okay?"

You nod, pressing a gentle kiss on her collarbone. "I promise."

"Forver and always."

Zhezhi

You've always known Zhezhi as an excellent artist. Ever since that faithful day- where you both met as children, you've always associated art with her. It was that day when she opened up your dull eyes to the colours of life, her talented hands commanding the brush like it was a part of her. It was no surprise that you soon became infatuated with the girl, insisting on sticking by her side even when you both had grown older. Your families- despite their seemingly uncaring attitudes, would never dare to come in between you both. It seemed that fate itself had decided that you were meant for each other.

You weren't the only one who agreed that Zhezhi was a wonderful scholar of art. There were many in Jinzhou that would pay a high price to obtain her paintings. With all that said, who in Huanglong was this baffling idiot you see- yelling at your Zhezhi?

"I told you I wanted it by today! Can't you work up some resonator magic to paint it faster? I don't have all week!"

You grit your teeth as the man yells at your lover, eyes narrowed in fury. Zhezhi was naturally shy and incredibly soft hearted, something you found endearing about her. But now? Watching her sob quietly as she gets berated like a lowly servant? It makes your blood boil, so much so that you had to take a deep breath to avoid suddenly activating your forte.

"What seems to be the problem here, sir?", you drawl, sauntering up to them. You sneak a hand around Zhezhi's waist, pulling her closer to you and letting her weep into your shoulder. You fix an icy stare at the man in question, your gaze making him stumble over his words in sudden fear.

"W-well, you see, Zhezhi said she needed a week to finish my commissioned painting- but it's not like I have time to wait, yknow? I'm a busy businessman, I've got places to be, people to meet. I simply can't wait! I thought that since she's a resonator, she should be able to finish the painting quickly, so I-"

Before he could even finish his nonsensical babbling, you place a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him, your grip almost painful enough to make him cry. Almost.

"Let me get this straight, sir. You yelled at Zhezhi for not completing a commission she told you would take a week to complete, despite it not being the deadline yet?" A strained smirk appeared on your lips as you tilt your head, as if trying to comprehend his stupidity.

"Do you think Zhezhi is some kind of robot? Even as a resonator, she needs time to complete a painting that would usually take months to be done. Can't your small brain comprehend even the most basic sense?"

Your retaliation makes him whimper, a shameful noise that makes those passing by laugh. He quickly apologises, telling Zhezhi to take her time with the commission while paying her extra for his mistake. You sneer as you watch him leave, walking away with a still sobbing Zhezhi. Heading to your shared home, you hug her close, whispering soft reassurances into her hair. Once she calmed down enough to talk, you wiped her tears away and fetched her a warm cup of green tea.

" ...Thank you, for helping me.", she mumbled, an embarrassed blush adorning her face. You shake your head, pressing an affectionate kiss onto her hairline.

"It's nothing you should apologise for, love. It's not your fault he was being an asshole."

Zhezhi snickers, slapping your shoulder playfully. You smile, relieved that she's not too down about the situation. Well, that was what you initially thought. Yet you know her all too well, the slight downturn of her lips was enough of an indicator that she was still feeling down about the whole situation.

"Zhezhi... it really isn't your fault, yknow?", you mumbled, connecting your foreheads together. She met your gaze, sniffling softly. During times like these, you know just the thing to. You lifting up her hand in yours, you press a kiss to her palm, slowly inching up to her collarbone. Zhezhi's breath hitches as you nibble her neck, giving her a hickey. Seeing how she doesn't show any discomfort, you tease her hips with your fingers whilst marking up her neck. An all out attack in her senses leaves her whimpering for you.

You nip her sensitive ear, earning a meek squeak from your lover. She holds onto you, a desperate whimpering mess- all for you. Despite your usual... rougher intimate moments, whenever Zhezhi gets sad like this you've made it a tradition to comfort her with affectionate sex. Toning down on your teasing, you pepper her face with playfully kisses, making her squeal.

"H-hey! That's not fair!", she laughs, hiding her face in your neck. You simply chuckle in response before parting her legs and kneeling down to face her pussy. You'll never get tired of how expressive she is, finding satisfaction in the bright blush adorning her face. Removing her underwear, you lick a teasing stripe through her slit, causing her to twitch and moan.

"Prepare yourself, love. I won't stop till your wetness is all I can taste."

You dive in, sucking on her sensitive clit. Your alternate with tongue fucking her pussy, groaning when you feel her clench on your tongue. The stimulation was mild at first, but your expert skills brought her to heights of pleasure.

"Ah- wait, hyAh! S' too much- hmph!!"

She grips your head and you growl at the interruption, bumping your nose against her clit. You hold her thighs apart with your hands, feeling them twitch as she slowly looses control over her body. You increase your pace, making Zhezhi scream in pleasure. She tries to run away but you hold her down firmly, reassuring her.

"Breathe, sweetheart. Just one more, give me one more." Zhezhi trembles, her pretty eyes shining with unshed tears. She nods, staying still for you to work your magic. Determined to bring her to one last orgasm, you suckle her folds as your fingers play with her clit. Unable to hold back, Zhezhi arches her back with a raw scream of ecstacy, squirting all over your face, her essence dripping onto the floor. You drink her up, being careful to avoid overestimating your lover.

"Haaah... ha...", you get up from your spot on the floor, kissing up her body as she pants from the aftermath. While you had wanted to spoil her with soft sex, something in you knew that she was craving more. So you decide to spoil her with the best aftercare you could provide. You head to the kitchen, fixing up a glass of water before going to the bathroom to get a moist towel. Once you returned, you let her drink from the glass as you wiped her down, holding her in your arms soon after. Zhezhi leans into your embrace as you caress her tired frame, lulling her to sleep.

"Rest now, my love. You deserve it."

Safe to say she slept soundly, knowing she was loved by you.

Baizhi

If anyone were to ask how you and Baizhi acted while working in the Academy, they'd be met with a mixed answer of 'they're in love your honour' and 'this is the 5th time they've tried to sabotage each other, and it's only Monday!'. But to those who've known you both for years, they'd say you and Baizhi had the healthiest rivalry anyone could have in an environment as competitive as the Academy, where its known to be full of intellectual minds.

Your relationship dynamic with Baizhi had brought quite the attention to yourselves, with many researchers vying for a piece of your work-life drama. As you and Baizhi were both one of the top intellectuals in the Academy, your rivalry was top material for a Jinzhou drama show. Competing through research, prototypes and theories, you both made the best pair on the team.

Unbeknownst to everyone else, however, you and Baizhi had an ongoing agreement for each and every competition you held. The 'loser' will have to do whatever the winner says, and the 'winner' will reign in that power for a whole day at most. A healthy agreement considering you both had discussed on what was agreeable for both parties. Although, you've never reached a point as to where you both became 'winners'...

Until today, that is. You had both presented your research on the Echo's to the higher ups, your reports contradicting one another. Despite that, they were both accepted by the Academy heads, leaving both you and Baizhi stunned.

"It... seems that we were both fruitful in our research, Baizhi.", you mumbled as you walked back to your shared lab. Baizhi simply hums, clearly thinking about what happened. "It appears so, though I never anticipated something like this happening."

You reach the now empty lab considering everyone had already gone home for the night. You turn to Baizhi, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean against the table.

"So, we both won this time. Now what?"

Baizhi thinks it over, sitting on the table across from you. You stared at her plush thighs, a blush creeping up your neck. You were always weak for her thighs, given how her resonator mark was on it as well. It was a part of Baizhi that you shamefully had a fetish for, but you'd never admit that. Though the longer you both pondered in silence, the more agitated you became, wanting to bury your face in those luscious thighs of hers.

"It seems there's no other solution but to make us bother winners. So, what do you want to- hey, are you listening?" You break out of your daze, fumbling over your words.

"O-oh, huh?"

Baizhi sighs, sauntering up to you. She pins you against the table, closing the distance between you both. "What's on your mind? I know that beautiful brain of yours must be thinking about something."

You preen at her praise, blushing from embarrassment. You don't reply right away, instead, you turn the tables, pushing Baizhi back somewhat to kneel down and grip her thighs. Baizhi yelps in surprise, not expecting the sudden situation. You kiss her supple flesh, making her moan.

"Well then, allow me to be the first 'winner' to claim her prize.", you purr seductively, enjoying the aroused look on her face. Grabbing the remote, you made sure to lock the lab doors and soundproof the walls for security measures. Once done, you reach up and pull down her thong, slick evident on the fabric.

"Well well... it looks like our dear miss Baizhi here is wet beyond measure. All that slick from just me kissing your thighs, baby?"

Baizhi groans at your teasing, holding the back of your head and stuffing your face in between her thighs. "Shut up..."

You moan happily, spreading her legs to nudge your nose against her sensitive clit. She stifles a moan, refusing to give you the satisfaction of hearing it. You whine in displeasure, biting a hickey onto her left thigh in retaliation. Baizhi hisses at the feeling, her hand gripping at your head.

"Don't be a brat. You'll hear me moan when you've earned it."

You huff in return, a sudden thought appearing in your mind. You grin, a cunning look that leaves Baizhi skeptical- and somewhat worried. You quickly stand up and head to your desk, rummaging through your drawer, looking for something. Baizhi looks at you with a confused frown on her face, calling out to you.

"What are you looking for?"

Finding what you needed, you showed it to her as upu scurried back. Her eyes widen at the object you were holding, a small pink vibrator. You grin, kneeling back once more as you eased her legs apart.

"Easy, baby. We've done this millions of times already. Well- not millions, but you get it.", you chuckle. Despite that, you knew Baizhi felt embarrassed whenever you pulled out the vibrator, one that you specially made for her. She always turned into a quivering mess for you when you use the toy. Pressing a reassuring kiss to her thigh, you ease the toy into her wet folds and turn it up to the lowest setting.

Baizhi shivers at the intrusion, holding onto your shoulder for support. As time goes on, you increase the setting of the vibrator. Baizhi couldn't help but let out her cute whines at the feeling.

"A-ah... mmgh... haAh!"

You revel in her shameless sounds, adding to the sensation by suckling on her clit. Both your hands firmly hold her thighs apart, marking her skin with your nails. Baizhi sobs at the pleasure, her body protesting at the sheer intensity of it all.

"Good girl... Good fucking girl...", you growl into her wetness, watching as droplets of tears gather at her eyelids. She knows to stay in place for you, holding onto the table behind her for support. You increase the intensity to the maximum level once you motive her hips stutter, knowing she was close.

"P-please... darling please!"

How could you ever ignore her whiny gasps? With one last suck to her clit, she comes undone on your tongue. Her slick was enough for the vibrator to slip out, falling onto the floor. You ignored it for now, focusing on easing her down from her orgasm with little kisses and comforting touches.

When you stand up, Baizhi meets your lips with an appreciative kiss, pulling you closer by your hips. You both took a minuet to calm down when suddenly, Baizhi squeezes your ass with her hand.

"Oh! Baizhi?"

Baizhi smirks, her finger trailing down your back, making you arch.

"It's my turn now, darling."

You know, you're starting to regret teasing her so much when you had your way with her.

"So bend over."

End note: I did not anticipate how long it took me to get this done 😅 anyways imma sleep now, that's enough horni for a week 😌

[jhuzen]

old and new [gn/m.reader]

good lord i have been gone for a long time. i am so sorry, i am recovering from bloccus writicus. also i may have been… getting in touch with my thirst for strong women. women are so beautiful. i love them. to all my requesters (? how to english), please excuse my tardiness. allow me to rev my engine before delivering them once again. i’m gonna warm up with a few posts (including this). ALSO THIS STORY IS JDIADMC IDK.

𖦹 big on genshin lore because i am nerding out, creator reader but not sagau reader, like i’m talking you are a character in the story, ooh look at me diverting from my agenda of overseer reader (i blame skirk’s master).

The mere ability to create is something so vast and so elaborate, placed upon the pedestal for all to see. If one is gifted with the passion and talent to create, they are the envy of all — to craft the most divine pieces, create something so intricate that it is nothing short of impressive.

And through it all, an artist hones one’s skills until they have reached the peak — until they’ve viewed every perspective, until they’ve used every shade, until they’ve done every stroke, all of it comes down to their prized creation;

Their Magnum Opus.

That… was Teyvat to you.

It was your pièce de résistance. If the myriad of heavenly bodies that lay before your trail were thought-provoking and terrifyingly beautiful to a fault, then Teyvat was your inexplicable masterpiece, one that took trial and error as your gentle hands shaped and carved every landscape, as your breath that blew into it became the protecting breeze, and as the tears that you wept from joy became the primordial seas of the world that birthed new life forms that you managed to call a mere happy accident.

It was yours. Many worlds before it were mere prototypes, but something you’ve cherished nonetheless. To you, Teyvat was the product that will possibly never get any better and a creation that will never be bested by anything else.

You granted it laws that were akin to the past worlds you’ve crafted with your own hands, you gave it life through the creatures that crawled around the earth. It thrived and you gave it autonomy once you thought it could work on its own course with your given gifts to let it thrive.

Teyvat was your cherished creation.

And the same rings true until now upon your quiet descent. Your immaculate robes that were woven with stardusts suddenly turning into a soft silk. You walked the earth in your bare feet, the blades of grass a mere tickle underneath you as you journeyed through the world.

The breeze blew by your hair and you felt the sheer invigoration, forcing a tiny titter out of you. You embraced the fruits of your hard labor, recalling the eons you nearly wept in agony as you continued to sculpt everything down to its tiniest detail.

And out of all of that, you birthed your pride and joy, this world that could never measure up to anything else.

Your eyes which held the countless stars and worlds you’ve created soon found itself gazing across the vast lands of this realm of light you’ve created, finding the realm of void opposing the one you were on.

Countless times you’ve heard your fellow artisans question you for creating such an unconventional place to be. But you sought balance in this perfect world of yours, where every creature can walk on their own respective realms. And if you can create pure beings of light, who’s to say that you can’t create the creatures that lurk within the void?

Your feet pattered against the grass that rustled as you hoped to approach and visit the opposing realm when you felt the ground beneath your rumble and shake. You stilled yourself with ease as you looked over your shoulder.

And your eyes had never known such beauty until now.

For the first time, a creature of divinity such as yourself was gobsmacked at the sight of a huge Vishap that stood before you.

It was a beautiful one — its blue scales that blended with the water from your tears of joy that you’ve shed upon your creation, its eyes holding the purest intentions that matched its pure being. You can feel the waters surge within its very form, like a fresh cold spring on a hot summer day.

Your eyes suddenly filled with tears as you felt your heart constrict with so much love as you watched it approach you. You have never seen such beauty that it truly nearly knocked you off your feet. Your chest ached with so much want as you continued to marvel the creature that you only hoped of succeeding in creating several eons ago.

“Oh… look at you…”

Your voice, honeyed and smooth as a silk, tinkled across the lands — waking up the creations that you gave life to upon your very own creation of Teyvat. Your voice, filled with so much love and tenderness, directed to the Vishap that towered over your tiny mortal form with ease, rang out, as if to call for it to come closer.

And it does.

The earth shakes with every weighted step that it took and you followed, contrasting the loudness with the silence of your own steps. You met it halfway until the very concept of distance no longer exists between you and the Vishap.

“…Such a beautiful one you are,” you whispered, your voice emitting a lilt of care and intense joy that you managed to suppress for a good measure before it overwhelmed you.

You lent a hand and its gaze directs towards it.

The Vishap leans into your touch and you can feel the waves of the primordial sea flow through you. With it, you can feel the joy you’ve felt once you’ve reached the end of your creation. You’ve felt the nostalgic satisfaction that kept you fulfilled even until now. You’ve felt the overwhelming love and excitement that you had when you took a step back and got a good look on Teyvat’s finality.

“You, who cradled our lives in your hands,” it spoke with a bellowing voice, making it seem like your own was but a mere squeak. “…Why do you pursue a creation as grand as this?”

You took a second as you pondered its question.

“…For the love in me is much too big not to share.”

“We have anticipated your descent. Nibelung has prophesied the return of the tearful artisan.”

You felt yourself flush at the title that was given to you unceremoniously, “Are my tears so ineffably embarrassing that I deserve such a name from my beloved creations?”

It huffed at your light jest, “It is nothing more but a praise. Your tears brought life in this barren world. Your tears gave birth to a new life that not one could hope to achieve—

“Your tears are my waters, to which I have complete sovereign on. Your tears are my will, to which I am eternally thankful for.”

You felt the inevitable warmth flow through your tiny body from the Vishap’s words alone. While it was satisfying to finish Teyvat on its own, you suddenly found a level beyond that feeling after receiving gratitude from your own creation firsthand. It melted your lonely soul and you couldn’t help but feel giddy at the feeling of it alone.

Such a simple gesture it was — to thank you — and yet the feeling it gave transcends every other emotion you’ve felt throughout the course of your long and eternal life.

“May you continue to prosper with the gift I’ve given you.” You blessed it with your small voice, barely above a mere whisper.

Your palm that shaped many worlds emitted the kind of warmth from a starting kiln and the Vishap relished in the feeling, a pleased growl echoing through the empty vast land of the light realm.

“The life that I owe to you will be cherished and used to its fullest. And should I perish, I will return with memories of you, no matter how faint.” It promised in one breath.

Your silken robes billowed against the breeze that blew by again. You can only feel your thoughts and feelings mingle with the Vishap’s. For once, you are able to see how it and its fellow Vishaps came to be, how each of them walked through the light realm and claimed its own homes where they ruled with incredible prosperity and indomitable ambition.

You were able to appreciate the further creation of life on this world that you deemed perfect, and was able to see how it went when you slept to rest for a good few centuries.

It was a feeling so invigorating, that you could feel your heart swell with so much love and pride for these dragons that walked the haven you’ve created. It mattered not to you how they came to be, only that they were able to live in peace and free from cumbersome bothers. It eased your heart, knowing that they are able to propagate their kind with so much freedom under the autonomous law that you gave to Teyvat.

You were feeling genuine satisfaction.

And it feels your jovial heart, with the way it continued to nestle its luminous scaled body into your touch.

“Protect this world with all your might. And you… you that holds my tears, will be given the authority to bring judgment of all life that makes a home on this world for centuries to come.”

Among the array of emotions that flowed through you, you felt its grateful pride surge through you.

A draconic pride that will leave its mark on you.

You had hoped it was a bad dream — a childish nightmare, no matter how unheard of it was among the divinity like you.

You hoped that the constriction in your loving heart was a jest in poor taste, that it was just a passing act of scare that you will laugh at. But as your eyes gazed at your magnum opus, your heart nearly shattered into a million little pieces.

The waters that were intimately connected to your essence, your very being, was tainted with anguish and anger. You can feel the hardships that started to brew from a few tiny nicks of pain in your heart. Teyvat was quite literally anchored to you through the primordial waters that flowed through it.

And as it continued to suffer contamination from something foreign, your heart further corroded into something that inflicted pain. You can feel the blood that soaked into the waters cry for desperation, you can feel the way it boiled with so much thirst for vengeance against whatever caused the first tragedy on Teyvat in the first place.

You placed full faith on the seven sovereigns, you had given them blessings that will aid them to guard your precious creation, but you could feel the tinge of betrayal flow through your veins when you threw a quick glance and saw Nibelung seeking something far more dangerous to defend their realm.

Something not from Teyvat. Something you know the laws that you placed which granted autonomy would reject and inflict sorrow upon those that were affected by it.

You fell into a state of unrest, pained with the grief of betrayal and longing for those that fought to protect your very own creation. A part of your mind condemns you for placing such a burden on your creations that cannot be better than outworld creatures that transcend them. But another part of you screams genuine belief to those you have tasked, that they will prevail and honor your simple wish.

Normally a couple of decades was nothing to you — as it could pass as quick as a mere minute, but to experience excruciating pain that throbbed like a vile tumor on your heavenly being was not something to sneeze at. Your heart ached for so many decades as you watched the sovereigns fall before those that intruded in your lovely creation.

And as it stole the authorities of the sovereigns, like a widow bereft its lover, you were forced into a state of slumber, lasting for centuries to come.

The new world thrives with lush life, creatures alike living as though its lives weren’t owed to the slumbering deity that was consumed with so much grief after all the tragic events that happened since its arrival on your world.

Perhaps it was the gentle mercy granted upon you that you stayed asleep when it parted a new realm for humanity’s arrival. When it was challenged by someone of the same nature, resulting to more catastrophic devastation that marred your heart with more fresh scars while you slept.

Perhaps it was best that you were unconscious as your closed eyes poured out tears endlessly that would sure tire you out for years as it happened.

And perhaps it was its atonement for the damage it caused you when you woke up and saw your Teyvat as something entirely new. Something that you didn’t create, something… completely alien.

Your pride as a divine creator was shaken, but you were quick to brush it off, wanting to see just how much your precious world was defiled and turned into something you know would never pass up as befitting into your standards. It was admittedly unbecoming of you, to turn your nose up against a creation, you always held some form of admiration and appreciation towards anything. You loved — and loved so much that you had to create to share it with your creations.

But Teyvat was once your magnum opus, it was… yours. It bathed in your heavenly tears, it felt every caress of your hands as you molded it into something you called your greatest masterpiece eons ago. You broke into a sweat, slaved away for the sake of your satisfaction upon completion, and when you finished it, you cried from happiness alone.

You descended, the flurry of stardust in your divine robes coagulating into the familiar silken robes that you wore whenever you would visit the seven sovereigns.

How many years have you been asleep? Dreaming up a reality where you shared a meal with the humongous and serpentine Dragon of Verdure, where you watched the Dragon King roar with pride, and where you exchanged the most insightful and heartfelt conversations with the Dragon of Water — the one that held your tears.

The grass underneath your bare feet feels as though it had a million stories to tell you, that among those years you’ve been forced into a slumber, you had missed a good chunk of what made Teyvat into this.

But the familiarity of the empty landscape was enough to urge you to keep going forth.

And that same familiarity ended the moment your eyes landed on fallen structures — ones you’ve never seen before. You can decipher that it once stood at a towering height, just from pillars that could squash your tiny mortal form with ease should it fall at the slightest disturbance.

You could feel a sense of tyranny from these structures, a tyranny broken by a hope from perhaps the creatures that felt trapped by it. You may have been asleep when it happened, but you can almost see how the tyranny of the past ruler of this place fell against the unity of those who longed freedom.

“Freedom… huh…” You murmured softly and a breeze rustled the grass beneath you. A lone leaf from the many trees landed on your hair, prompting you to take it and look at it.

You wondered how the Dragon of Verdure was fairing. If it had the same authority over the luscious life of Dendro as it did before.

Your feet continued to take you somewhere else, as though it had a sense of where to go. You never questioned it — as alien as Teyvat was to you now, it was still your world. And as long as the primordial waters are around, it stays anchored with you.

It didn’t take long before you ended up before a civilization — one you have never seen before when you descended before it came to challenge the seven sovereigns. Your eyes widened at the sight, pupils dilating as you watched humanity flourish and thrive within that patch of rock where a city sat.

Never had you expected to wake up to the sight of humans thriving in your world where there was once none.

Your sense of cautiousness dropped in a quick second and you took yourself towards it, foot against the hard cobblestone bridge as you walked towards the walls of this… civilization.

If you looked odd approaching this city in such a state, then you were certain they brushed it off as the guards welcomed you with a smile.

“Weary traveler, welcome to Mondstadt, the City of Freedom, blessed by our beloved Anemo Archon, Barbatos himself!”

For the first time since you had woken up, you felt the same overwhelming sense of love and tenderness as you were welcomed with living mortals, living in your creation like it was a normal occurrence for them.

Never had you known that humanity, no matter how it came upon your world, could be so beautiful.

And just like the day you met that beloved Vishap of yours, you wept.

“You sure know a lot of things about this place! Paimon could even say that you’re far more knowledgeable than Zhongli could be!”

Your laugh rang through the streets of Fontaine, angelic and seeming like a song from the heavens itself.

It had been so many years — dare you say centuries even, since you first descended after sleeping for so long with all the catastrophic events that has happened. You had traveled far and wide, discovered every single hidden civilization from the time you were asleep, learned every little conflict that happened.

You had to do the hard part of reading through every ancient tome that had a different language with each ancient civilization, but filling in the gaps was much easier. Despite it being your creation, the mere fact that you gave it autonomy only meant it wasn’t always subservient to you. It had its own laws even if you were the very being that gave those laws.

It was a refreshing change, quite frankly. Teyvat treated you like any other mortal and you could see and experience how humanity managed to adapt to the laws of your creation. It was honestly tear-jerking. You may not be the one that introduced humanity — rather it was the one that caused devastation to you and your dragons, but it was nonetheless still an endearing sight that you cherished.

You had to relearn Teyvat’s new history as it began embarking on a journey as a new world, where humans thrived and dominated, where beings in a mortal body but with a higher threshold, power, and purpose called gods were the ones to govern instead of the elemental sovereigns.

Somehow throughout it all, it felt as though your world was no longer yours.

But the waters ring familiarity, as it held your feelings from all those years ago. And now it’s far more potent in the Land of Hydro that you were currently on as you accompanied the blonde traveler that gained infamy across the nations you too journeyed in the past.

You felt for them, much like you before, they had to learn the secrets of this world. Only that they had to do it blind, while you managed to fill in the blanks of the tragic past of this world. And as much as you’d like to play the hero, since your descent after your sleep, you have learned to let everything play out on its own.

“I’m not one to claim superiority over Mister Zhongli’s prowess. Surely he knows far more than I do,” you deny with a genuine conviction. You learned he was the oldest of all archons, and have a better grasp of the world than you do when you were asleep.

“Mm. Let’s just call it quits and say you and him are even!” The tiny floating guide chirped, clapping in satisfaction after her own little conclusion.

You only nodded, conceding to her whims before finding the traveler walking up to you and giving you a serving of fish and chips and a double of serving for Paimon. You thanked them kindly and they only offered you a polite smile and a nod.

“Oh! Right! We should be heading off to pick up some bounty for more mora! Are you coming, [Name]?” Paimon asked, looking at you.

You caught their gaze and shook your head, “I think I’d like to take a walk around for a moment. I’ll see you two in awhile.” You said with the same unwavering smile that offered nothing but fondness for either of the two.

With a nod from them, off they went to Euphrasie to hound her for more bounty and its fruitful rewards.

You walked through the streets, basking in the noise of every call from every vendor within the side of the street, indulging the bustling nature of the busybodies in Fontaine, and savoring the air of nostalgia that perhaps only you can understand and feel.

Your feet halted at the remote parts of Palais Mermonia, admiring the flowers while you embraced the sense of familiarity that coursed through your veins. It was a welcome feeling above all, as it was the same feeling when you first truly experienced happiness.

And what luck it was when the Iudex himself was passing by for a quick break, to take a tiny breather from the suffocating throes of workload that was hurled on him as one of his many responsibilities.

You perked up when you heard a pair of footsteps echo within the cavernous structure of the Palais Mermonia and you looked over your shoulder.

Suddenly, that nostalgic feeling increased and your heart throbbed and ached with so much longing.

Suddenly, the breeze felt like it did centuries ago.

Suddenly, the hard concrete floor felt like the gentle grass beneath you.

And suddenly, the man behind you felt like the bearer of your tears.

You took a moment before facing him and found a smidgen of confusion and surprise that broke through his otherwise stoic expression. You had heard his impartiality and people reveled in him, word of the mouth was that the great Iudex, Mister Neuvillette himself, was the very symbol of Justice in Fontaine.

You didn’t know whether or not it was a wasted chance, but it never occurred to you to even ask if he kept his promise.

To come back with the faintest memories of you.

Instead, you smiled, bowed so gracefully and respectfully to him like any other mortal who have heard of his achievements would.

But you had to give him a few words yourself; just for old time’s sake.

“Look at you now…”

Your voice, much like millions of years ago, held the same sweetness and fondness, honeyed to perfection that it can lull anyone within earshot to a sense of comfort and warmth. Your voice beckoned him to come closer.

And he does.

“You’re thriving so beautifully… living among humanity…”

You could see the way his breath hitch in his throat, and you stifle a tiny laugh and suppressed the nostalgic fondness and love in your heart that was close to bursting at the seams.

“You did well.”

And you left him then and there, like a soft breeze in passing, in search of the traveler and their tiny emergency sustenance, without you knowing, that for once, it wasn’t you who cried.

It’s true, the new Teyvat felt alien to you.

It is no longer your world, but theirs — they, the humanity that staked its claim and lived for generations, they, the creatures that survived every catastrophic event that struck this world, and they… the beings that claim dominion over it.

And as this world’s creator, you would do well to enact the safety of the life it nurtured, even if you were overshadowed by the very being that devastated you.

After all, with all the love in you, it would be hard not to share it with the world you once knew.

[scummy-writes]

Ikepri Suitors and their OnlyFans Account

This is silly, entirely based on messages in my server over the great Silvio Tit Block and jokes about OF following soon after, but I did put some thought into this!!! Just don't be upset if its odd, because while we all know chev would never have an OF in his life, it is fun imagining it 💭

We'll skip over the 'hows' and 'whys' here. We can pretend they're the princes of OF, and just what they specialize in.

Characters: Chev, Silvio, Gilbert, Clavis, Jin Keith

Chevalier

- There is a room lined with bookshelves, various titles glinting from the low light. In the center is a lavish lounge, and laid out across it is Chevalier. There is a robe draped across the back of it. Nothing on his person save for a book in his hands, which he calmly reads aloud.

- yeah. Chev just reads his romance books while nude on camera. It's a bit of asmr while getting nice eye candy

- a lot of comments in his page is about watching his erection, especially when he gets to a sex scene- people claim to see it twitch at parts, but they're never completely sure.

- rarely cums on camera. Usually reserved for higher tiers where they supply him with rare books that are difficult to find. Those videos focus on him in a different viewpoint, his breath heavy as he tries to control himself. Seeing precum drip down the length of his cock is a sight you'll want etched into your memory.

Clavis

- It's an adventure every time you view a new upload from him. Most of the time, he's testing out sex toys he's created, alongside any experimental lubes or mild aphrodisiacs. Other times, he's slowly fucking his fist or a fleshlight, whimpering out how much he loves his darling.

- his tendencies for being foolish are not entirely gone from here. They will show in the toy designs or follower requests he abides. He's done things such as drawing on himself with whip cream, trying to edge himself with vibrators, or see how long he can last without touching himself while taking his brand of aphrodisiac.

- there is a persona he has for his OF, a silly gentleman who is prone to trying to please his fans through his creations, but between the curated chaos there are softer videos of his. Ones where he sighs out praises and words of love, playing up a fantasy of being your loving husband, coaxing himself to cum on your command.

Jin

- His chest is his money maker. Of course, his whole body could be considered so, but he pays attention to the comments he receives, and he knows what his audience wants. There's many a picture and video of his body slicked with oil, hands squeezing his chest as he winks at the camera

- certainly has started off videos shirtless and in sweatpants, letting his erection strain against the fabric. He's came in his pants just a few times, as a treat to his fans every once in a while.

- lots of focus on him jerking off for the camera. Sometimes he's got the hem of his shirt in his mouth, jerking off while letting you soak in the rest of his body. Other times he's in the shower, soaping his body slowly, paying attention to his chest, laying out his best dirty talk with gentle chuckles and sighs.

- sometimes tests out some of Clavis' special creations, but not often. One dyed his palms and dick, and he's been more careful since.

Silvio

- Silvio is known for his money, and also his tits. Those days out at sea have caused his body to be toned delightfully, and when accentuated with the fine jewelry he wears, it wasn't a surprise that nudes of himself caused a stir among those who knew of him.

- despite how often he sleeps with women, he rarely has any with him in videos. Most of his content centers around tasteful photos of himself, lounging on furniture with jewelry adorning his figure. This account was how others found out just how many piercings he has litered along his body.

- in the few videos he has, the times he collaborates with someone is few and far inbetween. Those videos are often rough, a means to an end for both parties, and when Silvio cums he'll elect to do so on his partner's face when possible. Something in the way he does so, then takes their chin in his hand to survey his work, makes his fans go a bit wild. But outside of those videos, he's often jerking himself off. Slowly, taking his time chasing his pleasure. He'll hiss curses as he gets close to his orgasm, edging himself more and more until he can't take it anymore.

- there are rumors that if you post photos of his tits outside of his OF account, your account will be struck down immediately with an explicit marker. His chest is just too much for other sites to handle.

- carlos has to delete many comments stating "I can fix him", lest Silvio pop off.

Gilbert

- oddly, when you view his content, there is no comments on anything. It's as if you've found a diamond in the rough, a private profile not meant for others eyes. Yet Gilbert doesn't kick you off of the page, and you're surprised at the amount of content he produces for such little price.

- he focuses on different ways for himself to get off. His hand, various toys, trying to cum without touching his cock. Occasionally, he'll experiment with a kink you happen to enjoy, but never mentioned. All the while he asks if his 'little rabbit' is enjoying the show, panting with his chuckles. Watching him cum is a delight, as you get to see how breathless he becomes, how his hips jut as he works his cock to the point of overstimulation.

- at some point, he allows for you to make requests, and you're surprised at how willing he is to do anything you desire. It's a bit concerning, but it's difficult to worry about as he follows each request, looking at the camera as he teases you for asking such a thing of him.

- there's odd cum tributes that he'll upload, but you never understand exactly who they're for.

Keith

- Keith will never show his face on his account, terribly ashamed of what he's doing to begin with. He'll opt to wear a facemask with anything he does on the account, keeping his bangs messy often.

- his content varies at times, to the point of confusing his fans. Most of the time, there will be sparse uploads: videos where he is palming himself through his pants, getting off on the act of filming himself while apologizing. Its clear that this is a shy man, and those who view his content are confused as to why he's uploading. But most love the way his eyes water, how sometimes he'll pull his girthy cock out for them to see, coaxing himself through a rough orgasm.

- other times, those apologies are nowhere to be heard as Keith- still donned in a mask- shows his body with confidence. He'll look directly at the camera as he teases his thick cock, murmuring about how he wants to make them gag on his length, how he needs someones tight warmth milking him dry. In some videos, he'll treat a fleshlight as if its one of his subscribers- fingering it slowly and stretching it out, talking low and dirty to the camera about how much it's going to take for them to fit all of him inside, how he's going to have to train them to take his cock with ease.

Chev's, ironically, is inspired by someone I knew. They had an OF dedicated for doing the same thing, but no jacking off element. Meanwhile Silvio's funny blurb is due to @xbalayage getting temp marked as explicit due to trying to make her icon Silvio's tits, and thus caused this post to be born. The rest came about just through idle thinking. I'm aware that all of this is ooc, I'm not taking this as a serious piece and neither should you.

These were silly but fun, I hope yall enjoyed, even if it was just a chuckle!

Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!):

@yarnnerdally @katriniac @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bakaneko-chan @skoetiepoetie @bestbryn @nightghoul381 @xbalayage

Ikepri Masterlist (more serious stuff on that) | Ikevamp Masterlist | Ikevamp/Ikepri Server

[tenjikyu]

Cool! Though the songs are kinda,, depressing but you’ll decide if you’re comfortable doing them anyways so one song is called Partner in Crime by Madilyn Mei and the other is Good Enough by Xdinary Heroes and if you’re stumped at what to do I’m pretty sure Madilyn Mei has some shorts with her song using diff character relationships and for Xdinary Heroes if you listen to the official audio there’ll be a top comment that explains how the song came to be

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦 - 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘺𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘪

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ psycho!sanzu x psycho!gn!reader , lyric fic , lots of tw’s!

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ WARNINGS: accusations of cheating. hints of sex but nothing ever really mentioned. mentions of gore, torture and dark content (he’s yakuza whadda ya expect). alcohol and drug consumption. possessive and borderline toxic relationship but it goes both ways.

♬ when you’re gone i feel alone again , the voices cannot hold my hand .

sanzu held the gun closer to you head. this is a common occurrence at your house. you don’t answer one of his calls from headquarters, so he comes piling into the house, gun in hand and ready to shoot any mystery person you’re so obviously cheating on him with.

there is no mystery man or woman, there is only a silenced phone with you knocked out on the lounge, empty vodka bottles and coke bottles next to you.

sanzu only sighs to himself.

♬ they keep me company at very best , distract me from my loneliness .

you barge into the headquarters of bonten, all the executives more then familiar with you by now. you came over a lot, either sanzu forcing you or to drag the said man into work.

“sanzu why the FUCK are there used women’s underwear in our laundry?” you shout and the giggling asshole.

of course, there was no side piece for him. you simply pissed him off, so he decides to fuck you over and toy with your head.

“i don’t know? why don’t you ask the empty bottles i found you sleeping next to 2 hours ago?” he spits, venom lacing his words.

“fuck you.” you respond, slamming the doors on your way out. manjiro only looks over at you, wondering why you put up with him despite all you ever seem to do is bitch to eachother.

♬ maybe i’m just an anomaly , even my demons have their families .

“i won’t let you out of this door asshole.” you say, watching sanzu attempt to walk out of the luxury apartment the two of you share.

“FUCK YOU (Y/N) IM SICK OF YOUR SHIT” he screeches, attempting to leave.

you both knew he was bullshitting. even if he did leave, he’d always end up begging to be let back in, and you both knew that you’d cave.

“you aren’t going anywhere, haruchiyo sanzu.”

it’s like a punch to the stomach. sanzu knew that if you said he wasn’t going anywhere, then he wasn’t going anywhere.

♬ truly something must be wrong with me , to need you as much as i do .

the both of you were passed out on your shared bed, half undressed and with marks littering both of your skins.

the rotten stench of blood filled both of your noses. god only knows who’s blood it was, but you were both too tired to really give a damn.

you only held his pink hair close to your chest, protecting him from his own mind.

sanzu huddled closer, the skin on skin contact soothing his racing thoughts. only your sultry voice and lyrical words could bring sanzu down from his high, the sweetish scent of meth lingering on his breath.

♬ i was never meant to win .

♬ i was never meant to win .

♬ i was never meant to win .

“PLEASE GOD NO” the woman strapped to the chair screeched, her husband’s bare fingers lay next to her, the wedding band still visible on his ring ringer.

“now now, why do you care what happens to him? you’re the whore who came onto my partner.” sanzu’s voice chimes.

he wasn’t lying, the woman came up to you and pressed her chest close against your arm, asking your name and your relationship status.

you wanted to gag at the sight, however your pissed boyfriend had her knocked out before you had the chance to respond.

and so, you watch the love of your life slowly dismember her husband, giggling to yourself.

he’s so sweet to you <3

♬ here’s the reigns , take ahold of me ,

♬ please don’t let go .

sanzu had you sat on his lap, gun in hand and against your head.

why? because he missed you. so, as any sane lover would do, he kidnapped you from your own home and threw you into his office, declaring that if you tried to leave then he’d be painting his walls red.

and so, testing your luck, you stepped out of the office.

hence the forced lap with the gun thing.

♬ you do the talking , see my mouth if i can’t keep it closed .

he was hyperventilating on the floors of your bedroom. yawning and sighing to yourself gently, you plop yourself next to him and wait for the signal.

“don’t just sit there asshole” you hear him mumble from beneath his hands. the signal.

you pull him into an embrace, his face buried into your shoulder as he sooths himself, rocking back and fourth. you grasp his wrists gently and bring his face to yours, as if he was a delicate flower that’s petals could fall at any time.

you press a gentle kiss to his temple, and then to the diamonds on either side of his mouth. his pouty face was too cute to hide away.

despite it all, you can’t bring yourself to allow your lover to suffer alone.

♬ there’s a dog barking right around the block , and a big ol’ whistle blow .

you grasped his hand gently, a ring ever so delicately glimmered on both of your left ring fingers, a nail straight through the finger in order to keep it on forever.

the blood dripping onto the sidewalk as you wandered through the empty streets didn’t phase you, only the symbol of your engagement and the maniacal giggles of your deranged fiancé phased through your mind.

the ring idea was your beloveds, seeing the ring in one of the shops he frequents. a ring with a nail that goes through the middle to keep it on, a diamond on the top to symbolise its meaning.

a perfect ring for a perfect couple.

♬ run for it , i’ll keep em occupied for you .

♬ cause i love you, i love you so .

“hey (Y/N) have you seen sanzu anywhere? he didn’t come into work today and mikeys pissed. he’s kinda the only guy who can talk to mikey without getting shot anyways.” kokonoi hushes to you over the phone, presumably because mikey is nearby and doesn’t want to get shot himself.

sanzu only sighs to himself, knowing he had to go in. he was planning on ditching to spend the afternoon with you, but work is a bitch i guess.

“i’ll let you have my fiancé if i can stay for the day as well” you bargain with the treasurer, knowing he’s easy to persuade with the current situation.

“i don’t give a shit if you’re here or not, just get the vice head here soon or mikey won’t hesitate to blow your brains in either.” he hangs up the phone.

giggling quietly, the both of you get dressed and mentally prepare yourself for a LOT of yelling.

♬ left me hangin at the station , but you’ll be back for me soon .

you could hear haruchiyo ever so slowly calming the exhausted kid down, little by little his voice stilled and you presumed that was the end.

you were surprised to hear mikey had summoned for your presence as well.

entering the boss’ office, you find a sleepy mikey with a pissed haruchiyo holding him up.

“jackass goes off on me then falls asleep on me afterwards. you’re better at this touchy shit.” haruchiyo spits out at you, before shrugging the boy onto you.

he was extremely thin and his white hair was a mess, but even you couldn’t bring yourself to give him any shit. you knew mikey before he went haywire and knew he had a shitty childhood.

so, you spent the next three hours on the lounge of the most dangerous man in japan’s office, with the said man sleeping like a baby on your lap.

you could tell sanzu was ready to strangle manjiro, however you only whacked him up the head before letting your fiancé rest on your other shoulder.

♬ i’m ‘bout to die , yet the only thing i find i’m worried about is you .

shopping for your beloveds birthday was difficult considering every time you left his side he’d threaten to abandon you, however the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity presented itself when manjiro sent haruchiyo on a mission for him.

you found yourself in the middle of the mall, looking around at anything that would interest your crazed parter. despite not being in bonten, you were much associated with them and therefore had to stay careful.

looking around at the assortment of jewellery stores, you finally settle on something.

forever bracelets.

bracelets that could not be removed, and you knew exactly what you wanted it to be laced with.

♬ something tells me you aren’t coming , guess i’m truly doomed .

the day of your lovers birthday had arrived. you woke up at around 3:30 pm, had some cake and dragged him out to the same shop you had his gift waiting for him.

walking up to the ladies who were going to prepare your bracelets (who instantly recognised your fiancé) , you held your gun to them as they did sanzu.

the gold bracelets were laced with eachothers blood, the light of the sun showed it off beautifully. and when it came time for yours to be completed, the cops were about 3 minutes away.

giggling to yourselves as you left the store, you grasped eachothers hands.

“perhaps we should get the necklace version on our honeymoon” haruchiyo voices, the sun slowly setting. the two of you walked the streets, before eventually making your way back home. the cops sirens couldn’t be heard, presumably still looking for you in the mall you had both left already.

“maybe, if you’re able to walk properly once i’m through with you” you joke to him, laughing together.

boy is he going to show off his birthday present to the executives tomorrow.

♬ i’m ‘bout to die , yet the only thing i find i’m worried about is you .

♬ i’m ‘bout to die , yet the thing on my mind seems to nearly be nothin but you .

[oneatlatime]

Zuko Alone

I'm hoping for some Appa this episode. It's been too long since he's gotten any good sight gags.

Zuko is cosplaying Clint Eastwood. He's also back to being stupid pale this episode.

You know it's a good thing that Zuko's not in the Fire Nation anymore because he really would have sucked at being Fire Nation. Robbing pregnant women is probably kindergarden level stuff for them.

How is Zuko in such bad shape? Last time we saw him he had a cave full of spoils robbed from rich people. Did he not bother to pack at least some of that stuff? Actually, not thinking far enough ahead to pack would be pretty in character.

Oof that would rub me the wrong way. Not enough money for a meal, but sure, let's use totally edible eggs as ammo.

Where'd the egg go?

Who is the scarred up hat wearing vampire and what happened to the real Zuko? Imposter Zuko just elected to not be provoked into a fight. Real Zuko would already be setting things on fire.

Just a bunch of thugs. Yep. It's consistently awesome how many of the facets of war this show can cover.

Imposter Zuko and Song's horse bird just got kidnapped. Did not see that coming.

Zuko kind of has arm bandages like Sokka has this episode. Also love the character detail that the boy has scraped knees.

Is the kid's dad the same guy as the man at the store? Or maybe this is a one haircut town?

So the guy who was near to fainting off his horse bird this morning is now turning down freely offered food? Could Zuko please shelve his pride for five minutes? Kudos to the mom for accurately reading his distaste for charity and turning it into a request for aid though. Although covering for the boy's egg trick is worth at least a meal.

Tangent!

I don't get Zuko. How can he still have so much pride when he's wearing rags and starving himself to feed Song's horse bird? I'm quite shameless when it comes to accepting help and I've never, ever been able to understand the whole 'too proud to accept charity' mindset. I'm always up for some charity. I have enough manners to offer to do the dishes after, but if you're offering free food I'm eating it. And I've never been in a situation as desperate as Zuko's. So I don't get this.

ok tangent over.

Peak rich kid behaviour. I hope those nails aren't expensive otherwise Zuko doing work for food might end up with this family out of pocket.

Is the wood grain on this ladder an actual photograph of wood grain?

Zuko has more patience this episode than he had for all of season 1 combined. He's also never gone this long without yelling. Either proximity to young children activates Zuko's otherwise mostly slumbering decency, or to fit him into a Fistful of Dollars homage the writers had to make him out of character.

If I had been in this situation when I was a kid, if I had been a) this visibly bored, and b) this nosy around guests, I would have been given a hammer and a bag of nails in three seconds flat. Also, nice to see a Sokka face from Zuko.

I get that 'a man without a past' is a staple of the cowboy genre, but the boy's father bringing up the privacy of the past twice in like two minutes makes me think he's done stuff he doesn't want to talk about. Seems both the parents have read Zuko right though.

Finally! Some pretty! I have been suffering! This may be the first really good pretty all season!

Bad news for the Appa decor on my blog. He may have been supplanted in my affections.

Two things: first, Zuko is a carbon copy of his mom. Second, That is way too much forehead.

Having Zuko's mom introduce herself by talking about the lengths mothers will go to for their children is not giving me foreshadowing anxiety at all.

Azula's been a bitch since birth. Noted.

Sir, your eyebrows. Also, yeah, I wouldn't want to play with her either.

Yikes this is making my teeth itch and my skin crawl. Calling it now, she's rotten to the core.

Zuko and Azula's dad has some weak ass genes. BOTH of his children are carbon copies of their mom.

Also, I was not expecting Zuko's very stupid ponytail to be a pre-scar thing. It is much better with a full head of hair.

If I had spent my childhood hanging out with an untouchable princess who set things on my head on fire for fun whenever I involuntarily displayed emotion, I'd be gloomy and apathetic in self defense too.

Sokka in this episode in spirit, if not in person.

Seriously that's the same face three times over!

Um, no? If Iroh doesn't make it back from the front, doesn't his son become next in line to be Firelord?

Can you hear all the unspoken "father thinks that" and "father says that" in front of every one of Azula's opinions in this whole scene? I stand by my assertion that she's awful anyways, but she's also obviously drunk much too much of her dad's koolaid, if you know what I mean.

This kid is going to get into so much trouble one of these days. Provoking the soldiers, nagging the mysterious stranger with the mysterious past, and now taking his weapons? Kid's sweet but he really needs to learn when to stop pushing his luck.

Stabbing dead, dried wood sounds like a great way to utterly annihilate the edge on those. Hope Zuko packed a whetstone.

Where is this patience coming from? I don't understand and it's BUGGING me.

Hold on. Technical problems.

My very basic DVD player sometimes has difficulty with these disks. Whatever happened between the above two screenshots, I've missed it. So picking back up from the one on the right...

Either these soldiers are impressively cowardly (which, yeah) or Zuko's really been working on his death glare, because they've got him outnumbered and out-armoured and they still back off.

OH it's parallels! Zuko's cousin and the boy's older brother. Got it. Kind of a false parallel though. Grandson of the Firelord does not equal earth kingdom conscript.

Give the demonstrably impulsive and nosy child a knife. That'll work out just fine I'm sure. Pretty sad the kid glommed on to Zuko so quickly, but it's also yet another realistic representation of the consequences of war. This show's good.

*shudders* theatre kids.

She's tiny! Do you know how darkly humourous it is to watch a two foot tall baby spout her father's murderous nonsense? Once again, in this whole scene, not a word out of Azula's mouth is actually Azula's.

"What is wrong with that child?" Apart from budding homicidal and psychopathic tendencies? Her dad. Her dad is what's wrong with that child.

Their dad has no subtlety at all. And also no brain? You think a day after the firelord finds out one of his family died is the right time to very boorishly make a play for the crown with you daughter as a prop? Could you possibly come up with a better demonstration of why this guy shouldn't be in charge?

How did this asshole land such a nice wife?

Yep. Siding with the old firelord on this one.

Does flashback Zuko sleep in his day clothes? Because that's not ok.

I like that their mom sees straight through Azula's lying here. She knows her daughter.

In a move that should surprise no one, everything Zuko touches turns to shit, as usual.

It's the Mexico filter!

Absolute truth from Zuko in that monologue. He's got them pegged. Too bad it fell on deaf ears. It's Zuko's curse, that whenever he approaches being remotely reasonable, he happens to be surrounded by people who will react in such a way that Zuko learns to equate being reasonable with failure.

An earthbender. The bare feet should have clued me in.

Last season Zuko and Iroh laid waste to like ten of these guys. And Iroh didn't even have pants. So what gives? Is he that starved?

Ursa pulling a Mufasa.

Don't answer don't answer don't answer

And he does.

Zuko is so very good at completely misinterpreting the point.

So we can add thief to the list of things that make Azula awful. Also that delivery of "who's going to make me? Mom?" is chilling. Zuko's lost his only defender inside this atrocious family and she knows it, he knows it, hell the turtleducks probably know it.

His dying wish? You guys buying that?

Ozai. That's his name. I'd forgotten that.

So... something something dead firelord something something missing mom something something maybe Azula wasn't actually lying this time?

Final Thoughts

The title wasn't kidding. Let's rename the show 'Avatar: the Guy who's Really Bad at Capturing Him' while we're at it.

There is now no way whatsoever that Zuko is not going to be redeemed. No writing team would invest that much energy and a whole episode into a character we're not ultimately supposed to root for. So somehow he's going to end up joining the Gaang. Don't know how he'll pull that one off. He's done some pretty not great stuff. And it's not like the Gaang watched this episode and unlocked his tragic backstory.

Speaking of, what prompted these reflections? I could understand if Zuko started to contemplate his cousin and the events surrounding his loss in the war after he learned about the family's older brother, but he was having flashbacks before he even got to town. Usually when there are backstory bits, there's a good reason to show them at that time, like how the Storm prompts Aang to think about the last storm he was in, or seeing a boat from his father's fleet prompts Sokka to remember what his dad told him. So what caused Zuko's memories to give him situationally appropriate flashbacks?

Pretty funny that he found the Nice Earth Kingdom Family that Azula predicted for him. And they are really nice! Either Zuko is an open book or the parents' social intelligence is off the charts because they're giving him exactly what he needs to feel at ease after barely a single conversation.

Speaking of Azula, I'm not surprised to find that she's always had deeply awful tendencies, even as a child of (I'm guessing) less than ten. But it cannot be ignored that, from the moment her father took a liking to her (as a tool to boost his own greatness, if not as a person), she didn't stand a chance. You can tell by the number of times that the stuff coming out of her mouth is a thinly veiled repetition of her father's unfiltered opinions, that she's been spending lots of time listening to him, probably while he puts down her mom and brother and talks about how she's the special one. You know what I'm getting at. Azula never stood a chance once her father got involved, and her mom lost the ability to influence her once her father started giving Azula praise for objectively wrong behaviour. That being said, Azula is awful even when she doesn't need to be awful for her father's approval, like when she's with her friends, so it's not all her father's doing. She's not a good person but she also had plenty of help to become that.

I guess Zuko and his mom are Fire Nation anomalies? And maybe Iroh has become that since his son died and he lost the war?

How on earth did Zuko survive as long as he did in the palace without his mom to protect him? What a no-win situation to be in. The only person in a whole nation with empathy.

This episode does makes Season 1 Zuko make more sense. He's been larping his dad as a defense mechanism for surviving the Fire Nation/probably a very futile effort to earn his approval. Although Zuko doesn't seem to care much for his dad if the tone he takes with him by the turtleduck pond is any indication.

Being banished was the best thing that ever happened to Zuko. The more distance between him and his remaining non-uncle family, the better. Between prioritizing his crew over capturing the avatar in the Storm, releasing the Avatar in the Blue Spirit, and now defending a random earth kingdom child this episode, it's hilarious how much Zuko HASN'T learned the lesson that Ozai banished him for not knowing. Don't get me wrong; that's a good thing. This episode plainly shows that behaviour that pleases Ozai is behaviour that should be unlearned as quickly as possible.

Zuko completely missing the point of his mom's last instruction is delightfully on the nose. But it also makes sense, which I may talk more about later.

How did Zuko hold on to his temper (and his volume) for a whole episode?

How did a show named after the main character get away with an episode that doesn't feature him at all? As a concept, this is such a strange episode. The writers were like "how can we kick start the woobification of Zuko? I know! A Spaghetti Western!" and it worked. Who comes up with that?

I now want at least as much, if not more, of Sokka and Katara's childhood via flashbacks. And more Gyatso please. If they can devote a whole episode to the childhood of a guy who isn't even a team member yet, they can show me some Sokka childhood shenanigans as a palette cleanser.

I really don't know what conclusion to draw about this episode. The writers have given me a massive backstory/trauma dump and I'm honestly like:

[littleabriel-blog]

Why You Shouldn't Watch Loki S2

With Season 2 of that show making its debut tomorrow, I thought I would make one last ditch effort to convince people not to watch it. It's not just because it's a horrible show that makes a mockery of my favorite Marvel character. There are a lot of problematic elements that contribute to the long list of reasons why people should not give Disney their money or ratings.

I am imploring people, one last time: If you must hate-watch the season, pirate it. If you must watch with some lingering hope that the real Loki will somehow make an appearance (and based on the reviews I have seen, that seems very unlikely), pirate it. Please don't contribute to Disney's ratings. Disney isn't going to care if you're hate watching or if you are only watching it hoping to get a glimpse of the Trickster we all know and love. They only care about numbers, and high ratings might mean we'll get stuck with another season of this utter dreck.

That said, here are some reasons why you should rethink giving this show your views:

It glorifies abuse and torture

In this show we are treated to the sight of Mobius using torture as "therapy", emotionally beating Loki down to the point where he capitulates to the TVA's demands, punishing him for having a crush on someone else by sticking him in a room for hours (at least) with an illusionary Sif who kicks him in the balls and punches him on repeat while further hammering the whole "you'll always be alone, you don't deserve good things" message, and generally working for an organization that subjects Loki to mockery, bullying, sexual assault (being stripped without his consent--that scene wasn't hot. It wasn't sexy. It was horrifying and I really, really have to wonder about the mental state of anyone who is at all turned on by it. Think about it, if Loki were a woman who was being forcibly stripped, there would have been loads of hatemail filling up Disney's servers), and slavery.

That's even before we get into the atrocious way Sylvie treats him. I've gone into how she treats him many, many times, how she belittles, invalidates, silences, and oh yes tries to kill him for daring to ask her to reconsider killing HWR. If the roles were reversed and Loki treated Sylvie like that? You ladies who love the ship so much would be boycotting Disney. It's no less abuse just because it's a woman doing it to a man.

It glorifies fascism

The TVA is very much Nazi coded yet they are framed as heroes...well, except when they're picking on Sylvie of course, since she's all pure and good and can do no wrong (Mary Sue powers activate!) They torture a character who is very much Jewish coded, an effeminate man who is very much the Other in the home he grew up in.

And what the hell is this?

As a Jew, I find this image deeply, deeply disturbing. It's a fucking gas chamber, y'all. It. Is. A . Gas. Chamber.

I don't know how anyone can NOT see how problematic it is.

It has Jonathan Majors in it

I really don't give a flipping shit if they're "only" allegations or if they wrapped up filming before the allegations came out. People boycotted Flash for Ezra Miller doing basically the same thing, so I don't see why it should be any different with Majors.

But then I know from experience that some of you so-called feminists out there are only about protecting or believing women when it suits you. Can't have a little thing like not supporting a domestic abuser get in the way of your wish fulfillment self-insert fantasies of beating the crap out of Loki before fucking him.

The first season was written by a total creep, and that same creep is producing the second season

'Nuff said.

Selfcest/Incest

I don't want to hear how "selfcest doesn't exist", especially in a fictional universe where you have sorcerers, witches, men with super soldier serum running in their veins, magic plants that turn individuals into superstrong Cat People, and talking raccoons.

And even without the selfcest, that ship is a very problematic one, as I stated above, and have continued to talk about at length.

It's just plain awful

The plot is predictable, full of holes, and not even that original (it's cribbed directly from a script Waldron wrote that was so awful, even SyFy wouldn't produce it, plus see my post with the clip from Batman Returns). Loki is grossly OOC in it...seriously, there is not a single hint of the character I had grown to love from Thor 1, Avengers, and the Dark World. He's nerfed all to hell (an Asgardian god who can take on Thor easily is beaten up by human rednecks?), and he's lost all his cunning, wit, intelligence, and grace all in favor of turning him into a sophomoric slapstick clown and the butt of everyone's jokes. The newer characters are poorly mapped out and one dimensional.

It's just...bad.

So there, that's my last ditch attempt to convince people to boycott this piece of shit. I realize my pleas might be falling on deaf ears, much as Loki's pleas fell on Sylvie's, but I had to get it out there.

Other Loki show antis can add to this or elaborate if they want. I'm too tired to be too coherent right now.

[quaithe-seastar]

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Two

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI), Smut between two women, prostitution, underage drinking, implied underage smut (nothing too graphic), incest, Otto Hightower, and homophobia.

a/n: I want to clarify that Aerys is the same age as Aegon. Dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. Though, there may be some high valyrian thrown in here and there. No beta, so I apologize for any or all grammar and spelling mistakes.

Aerys

Aerys curled himself deeper into his blankets. His eyes remained glaring at the stony walls of his chambers. The boy's stomach ached from refusing to eat his supper earlier. The room was dark and there was a slight chill in the air. Only the moonlight coming from the window lit up the cold gray stone walls. It had been an entire day since Rhaenyra had departed with her family. Hours since Aerys had moved from his bed. He had hoped to sleep his despair away, but it seemed like sleep was determined to evade him. The castle was quiet, too quiet for the boy. Everyone has most likely gone to sleep by now. Yet Aerys remained wide awake, to mull over his sad thoughts.

Since he was a little boy, Rhaenyra had been the only mother he had ever known. Having lost both of his parents at the ripe age of four. He could remember his mother’s voice, but her face was becoming a fading memory in his mind. Nyra had the ring with his mother’s portrait commissioned for his thirteenth name day. It was his most prized possession. Aerys also had many portraits of his parents that he had made himself, but he was never pleased with them. They always felt like they were missing something.

The slight creek of his chamber door freed him from his mind. Assuming it was a maid, he remained glaring at the gray stone wall, in hopes they would go away. Aerys let out a soft grunt as something collided with his back. The young man quickly sat up, turning to find the assailant. Aegon stood at the end of the bed dressed in beggar clothes. It was not an unfamiliar sight for Aerys. Aegon had stood at the bottom of Aerys’ bed and begged him to join him in his adventures many times.

“Put them on,” Aegon whispered.

Aerys turned his head down. There was a brown sack lying at his side. He began to pull the contents out of the bag. It was a disguise similar to the one Aegon wore. Aerys dropped the clothes on his lap.

“Aegon, I can’t-”

“No!” He whispered harshly. His face was scrunched up in anger. “I understand you are upset about Rhaenyra, but that is exactly why you must come. To get your mind off of it. Besides, how would you live with yourself if something happened to me? Something that you could have prevented if you came with me.”

“You've gone out alone plenty of times,” Aerys scoffed.

“So? Now, get dressed.”

Aerys rolled his eyes before getting out of bed. Perhaps Aegon was right. He needed to clear his head before his sadness consumed him. Aerys quickly changed into the clothes Aegon had given him. The Targaryen prince gave him a nod before motioning him to take his hand. The pair quickly and quietly made their way out of the room. They slipped into a nearby storage closet that had a hidden entrance to one of the castle's many secret passages. The two boys moved a large cart out of the way before placing their hands on the wall. They turned to each other and gave a nod. The two pushed with all the force they could muster until the wall gave in. The two nearly toppled over each other. Aerys was quickly able to grab Aegon's cloak, saving the boy from landing face-first on the ground.

The two boys shared a glance before slapping their hands over their mouths to stifle their laughter. Aegon took Aerys by the hand before leading them through the tunnel. Aerys was unsure of where they were. He didn’t have nearly as much experience using the secret passages as Aegon did. So he quietly let Aegon lead him forward. It wasn’t long before they came to the room that held the skull of Balerion, also known as The Black Dread. The dragon of Aegon the Conqueror, Maegor the Cruel, Princess Aerea, and King Viserys. Though his grandsire only rode the great dragon once, before he died of old age. Oh, what Aerys would give to have been able to simply look at Balerion in his prime.

In the darkness, it felt as though something was watching him. His eyes lingered on the skull as they passed. For a second he could have sworn he saw black eyes staring back at him. Aerys shook his head. His old wet nurse used to tell him that shadows liked to play tricks on the minds of men.

It didn’t take long before they made it outside of the castle gates. Aegon held onto Aerys’ hand as he led him through the crowded streets. The stench was the first thing to hit him. The city smelled of smoke, wine, piss, and what he could only assume was sex. Despite being so late into the night, the city seemed more alive than ever. A stark contrast to the dark quiet castle. There were hordes of people everywhere. Men clustered together as they drank and sang old songs of war. Men pulled women into their laps to fondle them. Women wearing scandalous dresses that left nothing to the imagination. Musicians were seated against the walls as they performed for all the see. The two boys came to a halt as a fight broke out before them. Aegon pulled Aerys to the side to keep him out of the way. One of the men dropped to the ground. He was quickly surrounded by people picking through his pockets.

It was all so thrilling. He could hear hundreds of different conversations all going on at once. As they turned the corner there was a woman on the ground on all fours as a man pumped inside her from the back. Her back arched as she moaned in pleasure. A deep blush crept onto his face. Never in his life had he seen such a sight. Aegon had told him many stories over the last two years since he began sneaking out of the castle, but now he was seeing it all for himself. Even as they passed the couple they did not stop, both eager to reach their climax.

“Riveting, isn’t it?” Aegon whispered into his ear.

Aerys gave him a shy nod. “Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

They squeezed their way through another crowded street.

“Out of the way boy!” A drunkard growled as he brushed past Aerys.

Multiple women leaned against the stone walls. Their dresses hiked up, flaunting their smooth legs. They waved and called out flirtatiously to all the men who passed. Their looks ranged from young to old, thin to large, tall to short, yellow-haired to raven-haired, pale-skinned to dark ebony.

The two came to a set of wide-opened doors of a two-story building. The entrance was lit up by two ornate lamps of gilded metal and emerald glass. The overwhelming scent of incense filled his nose. Men and women were constantly flowing in and out of the building. Aerys quickly realized it was a pleasure house. They made their way inside. From the entrance of the door, it was a straight shot to the common room. The room was filled with tapestries, colorful curtains, and rugs. Multiple women lounged upon cushioned alcoves. Some were seated on the laps of their patrons, grinding their bodies together, laughing at whatever the men whispered to them as if it were the funniest thing in the world. Some were intertwined with one another, sensually running their hands over each other.

An older woman approached the two of them. She had long yellow hair that reached past her hips. Her body was tall and lean. The two had to look up to meet her eyes. They were blue. They matched the dress she wore. She had a long aquiline nose, high cheekbones, and plump rosy lips. Her skin seemed to have a warm tan to it. The dress pushed her rather large bosoms up for display. Aerys blushed as he returned his eyes to her face.

“It’s been a while,” she smiled.

“Yes, it has. This is my friend's first time in the city. I want to make sure he enjoys himself.” Aegon said proudly as he wrapped his arm around Aerys’ shoulder.

“Of course. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” The woman asked.

Her soft honeyed voice was almost heavenly. Aerys believed he could listen to her speak for hours on end. Aegon moved towards the woman who leaned down. He whispered something into her ear that made her laugh. Aerys nervously clenched his hands into fists. There was no telling what Aegon was whispering to her, and the mystery unnerved him. The two finally pulled away from each other. Aegon moved back to Aerys' side.

“Right away my prince. For now, let me have one of my girls escort you to your room. Willa!” The woman called out.

A young woman approached them. Aerys assumed this was Willa. She was a pretty-looking woman. Her long brown hair was thick and curly. Large brown eyes stared at him apprehensively. They reminded him of a doe. A sweet little doe. She placed her hands on her hips in a seductive manner, but he could tell she was tense. Her baby pink dress showed off her voluptuous figure. She was tall and round, but not unpleasantly so. Her skin was a beautiful copper color that seemed to glow under the candlelight.

“Take these two gentlemen to a room.” The yellow-haired woman instructed.

“Of course, this way gentlemen.” Willa batted her eyelashes as she walked ahead of them.

Aegon intertwined their fingers, pulling Aerys along. They made their way up a set of stairs, careful to avoid the woman who leaned against the rails of the staircase. Many of them playfully toyed with his hair as he passed. Willa led them down a hall. The hall was filled with multiple rooms on both sides. Some doors were closed but you could very clearly hear what was going on inside. Some were open with women leaning seductively against the door frames. And then there were some open with small crowds of people inside watching as men pounded away at the women beneath them.

Aegon squeezed his hand, recapturing Aerys' attention. There was a wide smirk on his face as he looked at Aerys' flustered face. Willa led them down another hallway. This one was much quieter, with fewer rooms. All the rooms were dark and empty. She led them to the end of the hall, pushing open a beautifully carved door. The squared room was beautiful. It was lit up by lamps of gilded metal and decorated with colorful jewels. In the center of the room was a large canopy bed. The bed was covered with maroon and purple silks and velvet blankets. The floor was covered with purple rugs. The stone walls of the room were covered with colorful tapestries of nude women.

“Fetch us some wine!” Aegon commanded Willa as he removed his cloak.

“Right away,” the woman nodded before taking her leave.

Aerys waited for the door to close before speaking.

“What did you tell the woman downstairs?” He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Aegon let out a bored sigh as he walked over to Aerys. His fingers began tugging at the string of Aerys’ cloak.

“It’s a surprise, Aerys. Consider it a gift from your dear uncle.”

“A gift?” Aerys scoffed.

“Yes, a gift. Now quit squirming, I’m trying to get this off you.”

Aegon let out a shout of triumph as the cloak fell to the floor. The Targaryen prince moved to sit on the bed. He pulled off his tunic and kicked off his boots. He moved to lean against the headboard, resting on a mountain of pillows.

“Well come on, or do you plan on standing the entire evening?”

Aerys nodded before following suit. His skin prickled with goosebumps as the night air hit his skin. There was a quick knock at the door before it opened. Willa returned holding a tray with a flagon of wine and two glasses. Behind her came the yellowed-haired woman and two more people. It was hard for Aerys to discern if they were men or women. They wore thick black cloaks with hoods that concealed their faces. Willa set the tray down on the table next to the bed. She poured the wine and handed it to them. The yellow-haired woman dismissed her once she was done. Aerys found himself watching her until she disappeared behind the door.

“Gentlemen, I introduce you to the lovely ladies, Melira and Serenei.” The yellow-haired woman announced with a smile.

The two figures unlaced their cloaks before dropping them to the ground. The dark cloaks pooled at their feet. The first thing Aerys noticed was their beautiful silver hair. They had pale blue eyes, even prettier than the older woman beside them. As his eyes trailed down Aerys suddenly became aware of their nakedness.

“Two beauties from the island of Lys. Maidens, just as you asked.”

“They will do. Leave us.”

The yellow-haired woman bowed before leaving, pulling the door closed behind her. Aerys tried his best to look at their faces. Aegon jumped to his feet. He circled the two women, inspecting them. The shorter woman was around Aegon’s height while the other stood a head taller. The prince turned his head to gauge his reaction. Aerys cast his eyes down to the wine in his glass.

“Don’t be such a prude Aerys! Feast your eyes upon their beauty,” Aegon proclaimed as he fondled the shorter one’s breast from behind. “It’s what I bought them for. Which one are you?”

“Serenei, my prince.” The woman gasped as his fingers toyed with her nipples.

“Alright,” Aegon sighed. “My friend is new to this sort of thing. I want you both to put on a nice show for us.”

“Of course, my prince.” They both answered.

Aegon moved back to his spot on the bed. The two women crawled onto the bed. They sat on their knees at the edge of the bed. The taller one moved first. Pulling Serenei in for a kiss. Sweet simple pecks at first before they became longer and more passionate. Serenei moaned against Melira’s lips. Their hands pawed at one another. Gently caressing each other's breasts. Melira’s chest was much larger than Serenei’s. The shorter woman pulled back, getting on her hands and knees. She lowered her head to take one of Melira’s nipples in her mouth. Melira threw her head back slightly, moaning at the sensation. She trailed her nails down Serenei’s back. While she used the other to hold the woman’s head.

“Lovely aren’t they?” Aegon whispered into Aerys’ ear.

Aerys could only respond with a nod. He shifted in his seat as he watched Serenei dip a hand between the other woman’s legs. Her arm moved back and forth as she played with the woman’s cunt. Melira let out a loud moan before pushing the woman away. Serenei giggled as she fell onto her back, spreading her legs from Melira to crawl between them.

“Would you like me to taste her, my prince?” Melira asked.

“I’m not sure. Aerys, would you like that?” Aegon asked.

Aerys' face felt like it was on fire. No doubt his cheeks were as red as blood. The two women looked at him, giggling.

“Umm, I-I don’t...”

“Relax Aerys,” Aegon laughed. “Go ahead, taste her.”

The two carried on with what they were doing. Melira kissed down the woman’s body until her face reached her cunt.

“She’s so wet, my prince.” Melira moaned.

Aerys raised his cup to his lips, enjoying the warmth of the wine as it went down. He moved his cup towards Aegon, who was quick to fill it up again. And so the night carried on. The two boys watched as the women played with each other. Aerys was unsure of how long it had been. The wine had begun to cloud his mind long ago. There seemed to be no end to it. As soon as he finished a glass more appeared. Now it was Serenei between Melira’s legs. Her thin fingers pumping inside the woman’s sopping cunt. Feeling eyes on him, Aerys turned his head to find Aegon watching him.

“What?” Aerys asked, raising his glass to his lips. He cursed as he felt the liquid run down his chin.

“You’ve got a little...here.” Aegon laughed, pointing an unsteady finger toward the side of his mouth.

Aerys poked out his tongue, licking the corner of his mouth. “There?”

“No,” Aegon giggled. “Other side, other side.”

Aerys rolled his eyes as he moved his tongue to the other side. He could taste the slight bitterness of the spilled wine. “There, I think I got it.”

He turned his head to find Aegon glaring at him. He furrowed his brows in confusion. Had he done something? They were just fine a minute ago. He parted his lips to speak but something else happened. Aegon leaned in, capturing Aerys’ lips with his own. Dazed, Aerys found himself reciprocating. He felt Aegon slip his tongue into his mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The bitter aftertaste of the wine lingered much stronger on his tongue. Aerys' body responded to Aegon’s affection before his mind could. His hands gripped the Targaryen prince’s hips pulling him closer. They both groaned as their bare chests pressed against each other.

As Aerys felt Aegon's hand slip down between his legs his mind quickly caught up to speed. He jerked his head back, finally breaking the kiss. Aegon tried to lean forward to reconnect but stopped when Aerys placed a hand on his chest.

“What? What happened?” He asked, his violet eyes shifting between Aerys’ eyes and lips.

“What are you- what are we doing?” Aerys swallowed, pressing his hand harder against Aegon's chest to keep him at bay.

“You taste sweet,” Aegon hummed.

“Aegon we- we can’t be doing that.”

“Why?” He frowned as if he was confused as to why what they just did was wrong.

If this were any other circumstance Aerys would have found it adorable.

“Because it’s- it’s wrong.”

“How is it wrong?”

“Because we- we’re family.”

“So? In case you haven’t noticed this is something quite common in our family.”

“We’re both men! It’s wicked and immoral.”

“Ser Laenor fancy’s men. Do you find him wicked or immoral?”

“No, I-. . . that’s not what I’m saying...” Aerys murmured.

He felt Aegon slip his fingers under his chin, lifting his head. Aerys stared into those warm familiar violet eyes. Something he had done many times before.

“This is not wrong, Aerys. It’s just a kiss. We’ve done it once before, you liked it then too.” Aegon smiled, tracing his thumb over Aerys’ lips. “I won’t take it any further than you allow, I swear it. I just...want to kiss you.”

Aerys could feel his self-control melting away.

“Just...kissing right?”

“Just kissing.” Aegon agreed.

Aerys gave a small nod, dropping his hand from the prince’s chest. His body was tense as Aegon leaned in once more, reconnecting their lips. It was awkward at first until Aegon's fingers slipped into his hair. Something that had always calmed him down. Aegon slipped his tongue back between Aerys' lips. And without hesitation, Aerys found his hands gripping onto Aegon's waist pulling him closer. The two women had been forgotten until Aerys felt one move behind him. Her bare breasts were pressed against his chest as she moved her hand to his hair to take Aegon’s place. Aegon pulled his head back.

“Get out!” He hissed.

The two women froze in confusion, until he raised his voice, ordering them out a second time. “Out!”

The two quickly grabbed their cloaks before sprinting out of the room.

“That was cruel,” Aerys giggled.

“I’ll make sure they’re well compensated,” Aegon smirked, as he moved onto his knees.

Aerys scooted his body down a bit so he could be more comfortable. His neck was slightly sore from leaning against the headboard for so long. Aegon crawled between his legs. His hands were placed on both sides of Aerys' head. He bent down and their lips met with such lustful urgency. Aerys pushed Aegon away just enough to roll over on top of him without breaking the kiss. He pressed his tongue deep inside the Targaryen prince’s mouth, taking control.

“I want you,” Aegon mumbled against his lips as they finally parted ways.

He cast his eyes downwards, refusing to look Aerys in the eyes. His voice was soft and timid, no longer holding its usual smug and insouciant tone. Aerys was unsure of what he wanted to do. He had never been with a man before, or anyone for that matter. Sex was never something he was interested in before now. Aegon would often tell him of the many late-night trysts he had with women on the street of silk, but he had never mentioned any men. Aerys wondered if he had ever been with one. And even more concerning for the young man, he found himself growing jealous at the thought of another man touching him like this.

“Are you sure?” There was a slight slur to his voice, another sign of the wine taking effect. “I’ve never-”

“I know Aerys...but I want this. I want to do this together. We’ve always done everything together.”

Aegon gave him a sweet smile. His fingertips trailed from the mole on Aerys’ right cheek down to his chin, pulling him down to kiss him again this time deeper, slower, hungrier.

Aerys felt Aegon dig his fingers into his hips and pull him closer, their clothed middles pressed against each other. He pulled back with a hiss but still rested his forehead against Aegons. Aerys rolled his hips closer, enjoying the feeling of Aegon’s nails digging into his skin. The night was just beginning for the two.

—

The candles in the room had burned out. The streets were beginning to quiet down, as dawn approached. The two boys were wrapped in each other’s embrace. Aegon rested his head against Aerys' chest, still fast asleep. However, once again Aerys’ mind had refused to let him rest. Aegon had opened the window shutters before he fell asleep, allowing the night air and moonlight to come through. He did not know what to think about what they had just done, but years of hearing how wrong it was began weighing down on him. Yet he could not bring himself to say he regretted it. In truth, he had never experienced something so thrilling, so...addicting.

“You're thinking too loud, it disturbed me from my slumber.”

“How inconsiderate,” Aerys smiled. “You have my apology.”

Aegon pushed himself up, shifting all his weight onto his elbow. His cold, long fingers sent a chill down Aerys’ spine, as they trailed down his chest.

“An apology? So gracious of you, perhaps you deserve a reward.”

Aerys’ face was burning something fierce, as Aegon's soft lips trailed kisses down his stomach.

“Do you want me to stop?” Aegon asked.

Aerys wanted anything but.

“No, keep going...please.” His face burned hotter.

His mind and body both begging to be touched. To feel those cold fingers trace every inch of his skin.

“I think I like it when you beg,” Aegon purred, his nails dug into the boy's skin. Dragging from his chest down to his hips.

Aerys let out a heavy sigh. The slight sting only added to the pleasure. His back arched against the dragon prince’s touch. Aerys’ stomach was filled with anticipation of what was to come. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, beating loudly against her ears. Aerys’ hands clenched tightly at the blanket, unsure of what to do with them. His hips bucked at the feeling of Aegon's warm breath against the skin of his lower stomach.

The sound of a loud bang and splintering wood made them jump in fear. The carved oak door creaked loudly, having nearly been knocked off its hinges. The two boys were frozen, their eyes wide with shock and horror. There at the entrance of the room stood a knight wearing the colors of House Hightower, and Otto Hightower himself. Staring at the two boys with nearly the same expression. Though in his eyes there was something dark, something almost malevolent.

“Grandfather, I-I didn’t know you were here. How did you find us?” Aegon asked, his voice shaky.

“Get dressed!” The man snarled, a look of disgust covering his face. “Both of you!”

The two boys quickly jumped away from each other. Roughly pulling on their clothes as fast as they could. Once they were done they stood a great distance apart, staring at their feet. The older man said nothing as he turned and left the room, his cape swishing behind him. The unknown knight growled at the two boys, motioning them to follow. Not a word was spoken as they followed the reinstated hand of the king. Aerys grew confused and anxious. The way he was leading them was not the way they had come. Yet he did not question it, too afraid of what might happen if he dared to speak. He stared at his feet, not bothering to try and remember the path they took. A door creaked quietly and he found himself stepping out into a small dark alley.

“Lift your hoods,” the hand commanded as they neared the end of the alley.

They walked until they made it to Fishmongers Square, where a small carriage awaited them. The ride back to the castle was silent. Though Aerys’ could feel the eyes of Otto Hightower glaring at him. He suddenly wished to have Nyra at his side. She would know what to do, she always did. She would not hesitate to speak up in his defense. But now she was gone, sailed off to Dragonstone. All that was left was his grandsire, King Viserys. The boy loved his grandsire he truly did, but the man was weak. Always so busy trying to keep everyone happy. Always trying to keep the peace between the queen and the princess. Something he often failed at miserably.

The two boys were taken to the tower of the hand. The castle was practically void of all life at this time, so they did not have to fear lurking eyes. The hand paced back and forth, glaring at them every so often before continuing. The boys sat across from each other at the table that sat in the hand’s bed chamber. The silence was deafening. They were unsure of what the old man was waiting for. Aerys could not bring himself to even look up from the worn-down wood of the table. He felt Aegon kick at his foot, trying to get his attention. But Aerys would not look at him. The door swung open. Aerys looked up to find that the queen had entered the room. She wore a thick green robe, most likely to cover her nightdress. Her hair was unkempt, an unusual sight for the usual well-put-together queen.

“Leave us, Ser Yoren,” Otto commanded.

The knight’s armor clinked as he took his leave. Aerys felt as if he were going to be sick. As soon as the door closed the queen spoke.

“What has happened?” She asked.

“What happened is that I found these two laying together in a brothel, with my grandson about to put his own nephew's cock in his mouth!” The old man hissed, his voice laced with venom.

Aerys jumped in his seat at the noise. The bile rose in his throat, threatening to spill out. His entire body was shaking, riddled with fear.

“What? That is a lie! They would never-”

“Do you believe I would lie about something like this? Something so odious, something so vile!”

“No, I only meant-”

“Your uncle told me there was nothing to fear with you alone at court, and I tried to believe him. I tried to have faith in you, but for you to let something like this happen-”

“I did not let this happen-”

“Silence!” He seethed.

The queen's eyes widened in fear before she quickly cast her eyes to the floor. The man sighed before turning away from her and walking towards the table.

“Fortunately for the two of you, no one was able to recognize you. The two whores have been dealt with. But make no mistake,” the man warned, his voice dangerously low. “This will never happen again, or there will be serious consequences for the both of you. Alicent, escort my grandson back to his chambers. Ensure that a knight is placed inside of his room, to keep an eye on him.”

“Yes, Father...and what of Aerys?” She asked.

“I will have him escorted by Ser Yoren, now go.”

“Yes Father, come Aegon!” She commanded, motioning the boy to go to her.

Aerys turned his head to look at Aegon. Surely he wouldn’t leave him. Aegon stood to his feet, his eyes shifted to look at the boy across the table. Aerys looked at him with the best pleading eyes he could muster, begging him to stay. Aegon lowered his head and walked to his mother. Aerys watched, devastated. His lip trembled, his eyes burned with tears, and his heart began pounding in his ears. He dropped his head, staring at his feet.

“Look at me boy.” Otto hissed.

Aerys remained still. How could he? How could Aegon abandon him like this? This was all his fault!

“Look at me!”

Aerys barely had time to raise his head before the back of the old man’s hand connected with his cheek.

The harsh smack echoed through the room. The ringing in his ear and the stinging in his eyes made it difficult to register what had happened. He looked at the man before him at a loss for words. The man’s hand was still in the air. For a second the man shared a look of bewilderment before his eyes burned with fury.

“How dare you!” The man spat. “How dare you befoul my grandson with your depravity-”

Aerys turned his head to look away but the old man was quick to catch his chin in his hand. Aerys winced at the pain, trying to wriggle away.

“What kind of perversion is this?” He hissed.

His eyes darkened with loathing.

“No doubt this is the influence of your dear aunt and her husband. They’ve spent the last decade flouting their transgressions at court without shame. And I see they have planted the seeds of their debauchery in you. But as I said, this will not happen again. Be grateful for who your family is, boy. If you were anyone else I would have you gelded and sent off to the wall. Though you may prefer that, being what you are. Being trapped with a bunch of men who are so desperate to satisfy their depraved urges that they’ll fuck anything that moves must sound like paradise to you.”

The man backed away, though his eyes still glared at the boy. He stood up tall, his head held high. Aerys could feel the burning heat still emanating from his cheek.

“Ser Yoren will escort you to your chambers. I’ll send someone to clean that up.” The old man pointed his finger toward the boy's face. Shakily, Aerys raised his fingers to touch his cheek. He pulled them back to find himself bleeding. Not a lot of blood, just a drop or two, mostly likely from the large rings on the man’s fingers.

“You will not breathe a word of this night to anyone. As far as you’re concerned it never happened. But heed my warning boy. This will never happen again. Am I understood?”

Aerys moved his eyes to meet the old man’s gaze. Still unable to speak, he nodded in response.

“Good, now go.”

The boy could feel his knees buckle as he stood. He moved hesitantly, scared that the man would strike him again. Their eyes never left each other until Aerys was out the door. He could hear the old man whisper something to the knight. A moment later he heard the sound of footsteps trailing behind him.

Aerys sat quietly, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. The maester dabbed at the small cut on his cheek. They didn’t speak a word. Only the sound of crackling firewood filled the room. The sky was just beginning to turn a light blue. It wouldn’t be long before the pitter-patter of rushing servants rang through the halls of the castle.

“Alright, it should heal up within a few days. No need for stitches. Expect some bruising. You really ought to be more careful. There have been many young lords who met their ends tumbling down a flight of stairs.”

“Of course maester, it was a foolish mistake. Too much wine I suppose.”

“Mmm yes, that sounds about right. Alright, you should try and sleep now. Perhaps some dreamwine would help-”

“No!” The boy snapped.

The maester looked at him taken aback.

“My apologies maester, but I’m alright. There is no need.”

“Of course, I shall take my leave.” The maester bowed his head before leaving.

Once the door slammed closed he moved to the looking glass in the corner of the room. His iris eyes almost could not recognize the boy who stared back at him. There was a small cut beneath his eyes. Dark from the dried blood, and the salve the maester placed on it to keep it from infecting. The skin of his left cheek, as well as his left eye, looked red and slightly swollen. But it was not his injury that perturbed him. He had been bruised before. From accidents during sword training and from actually falling down the stairs once. He undressed, tossing the tattered clothes to the side.

Perhaps Otto Hightower was right. The seeds of sin were planted within him. Such sins weighed heavy on his heart, on his soul. He felt unclean, tainted. His nails dug into his skin scratching away at some unremitting itch that would not go away. Could he ever be forgiven? Would the gods be able to forgive such blasphemy? Such filth...

Aerys turned his head back to the small round table he and the maester had been sitting at. There was a larger copper bowl sitting in the middle. He walked over to dip his fingers into the bowl. The water had cooled. The cold water caused the hair on his arms to rise. He grabbed the rag from the bowl, not bothering to wring it. Water dripped down his skin as he scrubbed with contempt. Sobs racked his body as he struggled to reach his back. In frustration, he tossed the rag to the floor. His chest heaved heavily as he struggled to breathe. He swung his arm out, swiping the bowl off the table. Water splashed everywhere and the metal echoed as it hit the floor.

Aerys allowed himself to drop with it. He rocked himself back and forth, burying his face into his hands. His skin was red and raw, it burned as the morning breeze brushed against him. The boy found himself utterly exhausted now. He lay on his side, curling himself into a ball. Wrapping his arms around himself, he began to hum a tune. It was the lullaby his mother used to sing for him. He could no longer remember the words, but he remembered the melody. At long last, darkness overtook him.

[ltash]

Teach Me

You take Ghost to shopping on your upcoming birthday and ended up buying firearms.

We pulled over near the salon.

"I won't take long," I told Simon.

"Ok," he said as he waited in the car.

I was excited about my big day, so I went inside the salon to get pampered.

Two hours had passed and I was still inside when he opened the door of the salon. All the ladies were in shock to see him.

"Bloody Hell!" He muttered as he caught the sight of women looking at him.

I was paying the bill and was just about to exit when I ran to him.

"Simon, please not here," I told him, urging him to go outside.

"Calm down, he's just my boyfriend," I announced, taking my credit card back and finishing up.

"What took you so long, Nora?" Simon asked, his voice tinged with frustration, muffled by the balaclava he was wearing.

"You know how it is with ladies' things. We take our time," I replied, trying to keep my tone light and cheerful.

He sighed. "Where are we going now?"

"To the mall," I said with a smile, hoping to lift his spirits. "I have a few more errands to run, and then we can grab something to eat."

He nodded, and we made our way back to the car, ready to continue our day.

We entered the mall, and almost immediately, the security guards stopped Simon to question him about his tactical vest and the berretta resting on his chest in its holster.

He calmly showed them his special services card. After a moment of scrutiny, they nodded and let him in.

I could see the curiosity in their eyes, but they didn't ask any further questions. We proceeded into the bustling mall.

"I only came here with you. I usually don't go to malls," Simon said, his tone flat.

"At least you came," I replied with a smile.

As we moved from store to store, I told him to wait outside whenever I entered. He seemed uninterested, standing quietly and looking around aimlessly.

Eventually, I stopped by a shop that had men's clothes and pulled him in. "Hey Simon! Let's check it out. Come inside, please," I requested.

He didn't say anything and followed me inside. The shop was filled with men's clothes of various styles and colors.

"What colors do you wear?" I asked, looking through the racks.

"Black, grey, etc. But why' y ask eh?" he responded, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Without hesitating, I started pulling out black, grey, hoodies and sweatpants, handing them over to him. I knew his size so well.

"What are you doing? I already have many," Simon said, trying to put them back on the rack.

"Don't worry. I'll keep them here for you so whenever you visit, you won't have to bring so many clothes along," I insisted.

"Please don't do this," he requested, his voice softening.

"SSh!" I hushed him, determined to make things easier for him.

"If you're not complying, go sit outside. Let me get what I want," I said firmly, sending him out of the shop.

Once he was gone, I started picking out colors I wanted to see him wearing and bought as many clothes as I liked. It was fun imagining him in different outfits.

When I finally emerged with several bags in hand, he facepalmed. "What have you bought? So many bags."

I handed the bags to him and made my way to the perfume shop. He remained silent, watching me with a resigned look as I continued my shopping spree.

I knew the perfume he wore, but Aventus Creed and Baccarat Rouge 540 were my favorite. I wanted to experience their scent on him. Additionally, I bought perfumes for Captain Price, Gaz, and Soap, characters he admired.

After paying, I came out and handed him the bags.

"You are impossible," he said, shaking his head in disbelief at my shopping habits.

Lastly, I went to get a dress for myself: a black, long silk dress with a corset top. I kept that in mind; on my best day, I wanted to look good only for him. As I held the dress, imagining wearing it, I felt a rush of excitement for the special occasion that lay ahead.

Then I emerged from the store with a single bag in my hand.

"Got only this for you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I don't need so many of these. Let's eat something," I suggested, eager to change the subject and enjoy a meal together.

"It's getting late and I don't eat at fancy restaurants. Also, with what I'm wearing, people will run away after looking at me," he said with a hint of self-deprecation.

I chuckled, understanding his reluctance. "Okay, how about we grab something casual then? There's a cozy diner nearby."

"Whatever you want," he said with a small smile.

"Let's get pizza and eat it in the car," I suggested, knowing it would be a simple yet enjoyable way to end the day.

As we settled into the car, I turned to him with a serious expression.

"One more thing," I said, catching his attention.

"What?" he asked, curious.

"I need a firearm for myself," I said, knowing it was a bold request.

"From where will you get it?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I know a place," I reassured him.

He nodded, and we drove to the shop I had in mind. It was a sizable establishment with a wide array of guns and rifles on display.

He opened the door for me, and I entered, determined to find something suitable.

"It must be to your liking," I told him, acknowledging the seriousness of the decision.

"Must be one of your favorite places," I remarked, looking at him for a reaction.

"Hmm," he replied noncommittally.

"Hi! I need a gun and a sniper," I informed the dealer as we approached.

"Gun for you and sniper for him?" the dealer pointed towards Ghost.

"Hey! What are you getting a sniper for?" he asked, clearly surprised.

"For me. I want to learn how to handle it, plus I need protection for myself when you're not around," I replied confidently, knowing it was a decision I had thought through carefully.

"I need your help. You know the weapons best. I don't know which one I should buy," I admitted, turning to him for guidance.

I was surprized he approved me buying a sniper and didn't ask further questions.

The dealer showed me various guns, and Ghost diligently inspected each one. He checked their magazines and fidgeted with their chambers, assessing their quality and reliability with a practiced eye.

Ghost took a gun and showed it to me, a Glock 17. "It's best for your self-defense, and you have small hands, so..." he chuckled, knowing that the size of the weapon mattered for comfort and control. His consideration for my comfort brought a smile to my face, appreciating his attention to detail.

"We'll take this," I said, indicating the Glock 17, following Ghost's recommendation.

"And the sniper?" I inquired, eager to explore our options for long-range defense.

The dealer proceeded to show us various sniper rifles, each one with its own unique features and capabilities.

"If you want to be far away from your enemies, which I know is best in your favor, then you should choose a sniper," Ghost suggested, holding a gun in his hand.

He then presented a sniper rifle, the Sako TRG 42 A1. "This one is lightweight and efficient," he said, highlighting its features.

"Its one of the best Sniper rifles in the world." The arms dealer added.

"Aye! Its bolt action plus it can be carried in a backpack, quite lightweight and handy eh." Simon said admiring the rifle in his hand.

I saw a spark in Simon's eyes and they got darken as he admired the sniper rifle in his hand. He handled it and checked it like he was handling this sniper for ages.

I knew he loved sniper rifles.

I considered his recommendation, recognizing the importance of having a versatile firearm for long-range defense.

"What do you say then?" I asked, seeking his opinion.

"It's one of the best," he replied confidently. "Better than the sniper I have."

His endorsement reassured me, and I nodded, feeling confident in our choice.

I wanted to suprize him with this sniper I was getting for him. It will be the best gift ever for him and I didn't want to tell him. I knew he won't let me buy it then.

"We'll take them," I said to the dealer with a nod of finality.

He carefully packed the sniper and the gun in their respective cases, and Ghost took them, carrying them to the car.

"I must say, you have such a good choice in weapons," I remarked, admiring his expertise.

"That's what we're good at. It's our job. We play with them like babies," he replied, his dedication to his profession evident in his demeanor.

"Teach me before you go. I badly need to know how to use these weapons now," I requested, realizing the importance of being proficient with them for my own safety.

"Soon." He replied.

[pynkgothicka]

Ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ Ｙａｎｄｅｒｅ ＧＯＷ Ｈｅａｄｃａｎｏｎｓ

Synopsis - Just some general Headcanons for one of my favorite game series and characters!!

Tags and Warnings - Harm Towards the Reader, that's all I got.

Authors Note - THIS IS SO CRINGE (please don't unfollow me I'm going through a phase (I'm working on BTS reqs rn I swear))

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

Kratos

Literally is known for killing, and will gladly do it again

Your like family to him and he's seen too many of those he considered family betray him and die

Pre Norse Kratos would be at his absolute worst peak. Any little thing would result in someone else dying.

Looked at you wrong? Cut in Half.

Someone told you something? Eyes Gouged out.

And the worst someone did to you the more serious Kratos would punish them, or really kill them.

His rage is met with something that calms him, makes him feel grounded, aka you.

But my god is he gentle with you, no matter what. He touches you almost like you'd break if he used anymore force.

Even with the little words he uses when talking to you, he truly loves and cares for you. All he wants is for that love to be recognized and given back to him.

But one thing for sure, Kratos kidnaps you. Just to keep you in his sights and a place he knows and can see you whenever

Post Norse Kratos is much more pleasant to be around. He's more stern, more calm, much more approachable, even if needing a much more deeper urge too.

Plus if your good with Atreus, that only makes things better. He sees that maternal aspect in you instantly

However no matter what he keeps is past closer off to you because he doesn't want you to think any different of him.

(HE LOVES BIG WOMEN GUYS I SAID IT. HE GOT TOO. (all his dead wives are skinny (let me be delusional)))

You yelled out running into the middle of of snow. It was freezing cold but you couldn't stop anytime soon. Or else you'd be trapped back in that house, never to see the light of day.

You heard him.

Heavy, labored breaths behind you.

You ducked down behind a rock, trying to slow your breathing. This was hopeless, but you had to Atleast try. Maybe Freya would help you or something, she does a have a thing against your captor.

“Do you wish to die out here.”

A hand went to your mouth, refusing to give in to the fear that overtook you.

“You cannot survive the cold. Come back. Do you not want to be home? With us?”

His footsteps grew louder, he knew what he was. He was intimidating, scary, deep down a killer.

And did he know how to use those aspects to his advantage.

A hand grabbed at your ankle and you were pulled up by your foot. You made direct eye contact with the wall of muscle that you'd grown to fear. His breathing was labored but he took a deep breath in, and sling you over onto his shoulder.

“We are to talk about this later. Understand?”

All you could do was sob silently and nod your head.

Freya

Man when I tell you shes reminded of what love feels like, she is reminded hard.

She's already broken, having almost everything taken away from her by Odin. But you mend those tears in her soul, binding them shut with your mere existence.

Freya would've instantly been drawn to you, seeing as all you wish to do is care for the people around you, being free from Odin's eye, as your inconsequential to him

She would grow to envy your freedom, as you traveled the realms as freely as you wished. Your absence would plague her, growing to be that without you she feels empty.

And it gets worse after Bauldur dies.

Once he's gone you flee quickly seeing what she's turned into. Fueled by rage and regret, she would have these outbursts of just heavy emotion. And so you left, avoiding Midgard at all costs.

It wouldn't be long until she finds you, being free from her curse. Freya would tackle you to the ground and capture you, vowing go nrver let you out of her sights again.

And she doesn't, she wants you to either be locked up and with her. And majoirty of the time it's with her. She wants a new spouse, someone to actually call her love and mean it.

“There you are!”

You were tackled to the ground, bound by vines that were never apart of the vegetation of the realm you called home.

The sight of a angered Freya came into view as your eyes opened. Her breathing was labored as she moved her hands, the vines still keeping you stuck. Her hands came to your cheek and you winced at her cold touch. A paled man stood over in the distance watching silently.

“Your just as beautiful as the day you left…” She mumbled to herself bringing your attention back to her. Freya's hands pressed against your cheeks as she leaned in, kissing your forehead passionately. The action almost mimicked a mother, trying to clam her new born baby.

But this wasn't the situation for that.

“Freya please we can tal-”

“So you know how much you hurt me?! You left me alone. Alone with my thoughts, I spiraled without you.” She yelled at you. This is one of the reasons you left in the first place, her mood can switch so easily. “But that's in the past, and all I care for is the future. One where you and me spend eternity together.”

Atreus (But in a platonic crushing way cause ya know he a minor)

He's crazy, literally whipped for you. He's considers you to be his best friend, and does a bunch of harmless flirting.

Of course he thinks your pretty, one of the prettiest people he's ever encountered and has he seen some things. But he knows that staying friends keeps him happier, and less stressed

Being a mortal really didn't help your case, if anything it made Atreus more protective of you and your safety.

Any situation he deemed to dangerous and unsafe for you, he'd make you stay behind (he takes after his father a lot.)

You often are the subject to which he vents too, it's rather unintentional, everything that's happened and is currently happening to him is just so stressful. And god knows he couldn't vent to his father or Sindri.

He has this thing for showing you the world through his eyes. Like he'll tell you what animals are saying and how they're just like him and you. The beauty of nature is something he just has to show you

One thing that's worrisome is how impulsive he is. He's so quick to stand his guard and protect you when it comes to you and your safety. Key example is Heimdall, in which he never liked. Atreus hates how the blonde talks to you, in fact he would immediately pull out the wolf when Heimdall even mentions you.

Off note, Atreus will bring you to Asgard with him. No matter what you say he'll want you to be there with him. His excuse is that you'd make a great duo, but in reality he doesn't want to be alone.

“What is wrong with you!? Your trying or at least considering to go to Asgard?!” You yelled once inside of Freya's abandoned house.

“Its the next best lead I have. But I need you to go with me, I can't do it alone.” Atreus said as if it was the most simple thing ever. You furrowed your brows at the half god.

“Let me break it down for you. I'm a mortal. A mortal in a realm built for gods? Yeah your fucking crazy. Oh let me add this. I'm a child, your a child, WE'RE CHILDREN!"

“I'd say young adults, shit maybe teenagers. But the thing is we have to, we have to save my dad.” Atreus tried to reason with you.

“Since when is it a WE thing? Atreus this is your prophecy not mine. Hell not even Atreus, this is Loki's prophecy."

“Wait don't go I need you!”

“Goodbye Loki.”

“No!” He yelled before shooting a arrow at your arm, cut forming at your forearm. You hissed out and grabbed at the wound, the cold hitting your blood. “Your not going anywhere hurt like that. Step out there and the cold will infect the wound. If you come with me, Odin can heal you.”

“I'm-”

“Make a choice.”

“Fine. I'll go….”