#crow of disapproval

[shrekyaoi]

which cod characters do you think would be vampires rather than werewolves?

since vampires don’t exist in the au pyrrhus belongs to i’m going to place this in a different theoretical that also lets me have some of the wolves from pyrrhus be vampires instead

with that out of the way: gaz, nikolai, and anatoly.

people that are wolves: makarov, yuri, and soap

price and ghost are both human.

making makarov or either of the humans vampires is very clearly the most obvious option but makarov being something so visibly monstrous and hating it is more interesting to me, as is making price (fucked up monsterguy ever) and ghost (lowest hanging fruit) human. i can see gaz getting turned during an op but price keeps him on anyway because he thinks it gives them an advantage even if that means now they have to do some tactical necksucking every now and again. similar deal with soap, but to be fair he might have also just been born a wolf and price liked his vibe too much to turn down the opportunity. vampire nikolai is hot. the dynamic between makarov and yuri with makarov being the bitch that turns yuri scratches my brain and would work either way with makarov being a werewolf or a vampire so he would always be what makarov is

[headofocs-inklesspen]

“I hope I’m not just a disappointment, but also an embarrassment to you”

[legacyphoenixx]

Made it to the shadowlands with Tamriel, slapped some shadows around with him and Shadowheart both running Spirit Guardians (and also Lae’zel and Gale were there too ig) and then got swarmed by a giant flock of shadow crows that Gale fucking obliterated with a Fireball so hard the party leveled up

And also Tam drank Jaheira’s truth wine even when he knew it was spiked bc he thought “why not, I have nothing to hide from her anyways and this might make her trust me more and get me in her good graces” and in short: Everyone Disliked That. I am also rotating Tam having very funny convos with the rest of the party bc the truth wine hadn’t worn off yet in my mind right now as we speak

[pedrasacorn]

Friends don’t do what we do

Jason Todd x fem!reader

Warnings: none

Authors note: this is my first time ever doing something like this, I’m not a writer by conventional means but I could not leave you all hanging after blowing up my blurb

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“That’s a nice jacket.” Your greedy gaze takes in the leather comfortably draping his body.

He eyes you carefully, “Thanks.”

“You got candy in there?” You grin up at him.

“Sweetheart, ask for what you really want.” You hate the way he’s able to coax you into yourself, grounding you with the idea that he’s not like eveyone else. He doesn’t flinch at your forwardness.

“Can I…explore your pockets a bit..?”

You aren’t snoopy by nature (yes you are) , but the desire to more about him drew you into asking this absurd question.

He leans closer to you on the couch, offering his pocket. He carefully takes in the details of your face. You’d wilt under anyone else’s scrutiny, but his attention lacks judgment.

Tentatively you reach in.

He feels your hand digging around. This is the only way he can stomach letting you touch him, between a layer of thick fabric…it feels nice.

“Massive pockets. You carry your bike in here?”

Your heart leaps at the way his laugh softens his voice, “Yeah sweets sometimes I put ‘er in there.”

Your hand wraps around cool metal, heavy in your palm as you lift it into the light of the room.

A pocket knife.

“Oh.” Your eyes gleam dangerously, “You stab someone with this before?” You pop open the blade, checking for blood, before he gently confiscates it, clicking it closed.

“A stab from this’d be a paper cut.” He lifts it away from your reaching hands.

“Then what do you have it for?” He gives you a wry smile, “Has no one taught you anything about—” he pulls his hand away as you reach for it, “—survival?”

“Mmm…not really, no.” You quip. Whether or not it’s sarcasm, he mentally adds to the list of things he needs to teach you.

You reach in again, pulling out a folded piece of paper, you carefully un-crumple it, glancing up at him briefly, waiting to see if he stops you. He only holds your gaze. “Nothing juicy huh?” Your eyes scan a grocery list.

Oh Ho Ho. “Pomegranates?”

“They’re in season…” he murmurs as you read on.

“You put C4 on your grocery list?”

His brows scrunch confusedly, your gasp interrupts his rebuttal, “Chloroform?!” He rips the paper out of your hands, and double checks the list. Bread, chips, peanut butter, mozzarella, eggs, etc.

He sighs, “You don’t buy chloroform at the grocery store, you make it.”

“How?” He gives you a disapproving look, you return it with a grin of your own as you reach in again.

“Shiny…” The three bullets are weighty, all smooth, and cold in your palm.

You let him confiscate those, reveling in his gentleness, and the contrast of his warm, rough fingers. His nearly somber expression catches you off guard, like a cold breeze through a sweater meant to keep you warm. The bullets are a heavier weight, in his hand.

“You’re worse than a crow.” He mutters.

You reach in again, “…my hair tie.”

“Mh.” His noncommittal answer soothes your poorly concealed nerves. What needn’t be said, or brought to the light; whatever this was between you.

He confiscates yet another item from your palm, pulling it on his wrist. “This is mine too.”

[bisayawa]

freckles & blades & helping hands

✎___ husband!diluc × spouse!reader

✎___ a/n: domestic fluff (literally just a soft scene of diluc shaving his scruff), i aged diluc up a bit i think. use of the pet name honey. somewhat inspired by @/mmmairon's art of beefy, gentle, kind diluc :> 730~ words, not proofread; art by ary scheffer.

"do you need any help?"

legs swinging on the counter top, you lean in & stare, eyes glazing over the handsome lines of your husband's face on the mirror. he has a few crow's feet near his temples. whenever you point it out, he'll always say the wrinkles are evidence of you, you who make him smile & laugh & chuckle until his stomach hurts. it's evidence of a life laughter, he'd say.

the sharp stipple of the razor cuts through the silence.

"no, honey," he says, turning his head & angling the blade to the scruff on his jaw. "it's alright."

the words are spoken softly. it was jarring a few years ago, hearing words of buttercream & sweetness come from a man such as diluc, hulking, dignified, broad-shouldered, almost always with a dour expression on his face.

there was a handsomeness to the gloom before. the sharpness of brows, the bite of his frowns, the particular wrinkle when he scrunches his nose... but you have to admit, the allure is multiplied tenfold when he's all honeyed & dewy-eyed, softer than a cloud.

"i could do it for you, you know?"

his eyes never leave the mirror.

"i still don't understand this... fixation you have," he angles his face in an almost-quarter turn. "i'm just shaving, hon. it's no event you have to witness."

"of course, it is." you lean a little closer. "it's like an unveiling. my husband is showing his true face, one without scruff or stubble."

"an unveiling― ?" his shoulders shake & he puts down the razor for a few moments, small bouts of giggles floating through the room.

he rights himself.

"behave. i'm never gonna finished in time." his stern voice is all for show. he's smiling as he says the words.

a beat passes.

"but isn't it though? they'll finally see all your face. happy wrinkles & all."

he's struggling to fix his lip into a line, unable to stop it from curling into a smile. he's repeating your last few words, mouthing them out as he brings down the razor.

the silence after then is sweet, filled with curious looks towards his face filled with foam & other little chuckles.

"so..." your voice cuts through.

"so...?"

"could i do it for you?"

he taps the razor on the marble sink, shucking hair & foam off the blade.

"you don't know how..." another swipe of the razor.

"you could teach me." tap tap.

"i've..." swipe. "already started." tap

"just the basics." swipe. "an impromptu lesson, yeah? against the grain & all that?"

"it's with the grain, honey."

"right, yeah... i knew that... so are you gonna teach me?"

"hm..."

"oh? usually it's a big, disapproving hrrrnn..."

"you've catalogued my grousing?"

"yup yup, because i am a good spouse who tends to the needs of my husband."

he laughs at that, quietly. another wrinkle on his temple.

"alright, alright... here..."

he gives the razor, grasping it in your hand. he's gentle, careful, righting your hold of the blade.

"okay... here's how it should be..." he guides your hand towards his cheek, speaking in soft murmurs. "just like how my father taught me. listen."

he pulls down, a swipe against his face. hair & foam give way for his pale skin.

"there. let the blade do the work, honey. don't push too harshly."

he makes another swipe, his hand still guiding yours.

"here, just like this." swipe swipe swipe. "you wanna try?"

your small palm finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. brows furrow in concentration as the razor anticipates the next swipe.

"careful, honey, okay?" the warmth of his hand leaves. "i trust you."

shaking fingers steel themselves. the blade goes still before landing on the softness of his skin. it coasts across his jaw, cold metal kissing warm flesh. the line is carved against the shaving foam, no longer obscuring his face.

the swipe is finished. the trust was not betrayed. the result of your work is there upon the blade, as patches of coarse hair & crisp shaving foam.

"how was that?" you murmur.

"wonderful." he's staring into your eyes, not at the razor like you expected. "would you like to keep going?"

"yes, please." you poke at his newly shaven jaw. "i've never noticed your little freckle here."

"i have a few." he pinches your nose. "let's keep going. maybe we can find a few more."

[grandline-fics]

All That I Need

DESCRIPTION: When your presence is all they crave

WARNINGS: some suggestive themes, some jealousy in Shanks’ mostly fluff overall

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro, Shanks| Sabo,Sanji

WORD COUNT: 1,413

A/N: Finally starting to feel better so I decided to finish this. Mostly indulgent and I hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

—————

LUFFY

Long before you and Luffy even got together you knew he was solely motivated by his wants, childishly so. He saw a platter of food meant for everyone? He’d eat it all before anyone else got a chance to grab a fork. Someone tried to tell him he was too weak to beat them? Luffy had the first punch thrown before they could blink. If he wanted something he was vocal about it. It was a simplistic way to be and at least you and the crew always knew how to keep your Captain happy. There was never any guessing, even when he was unconscious.

Of course once again he’d pushed his body to the limit to win a fight and now he was dealing with the consequences. Chopper had tended to his wounds and you approached his now sleeping form with a tired but proud smile. You were used to this but still you couldn’t help but worry about the strain his body was being put through time and time again. “You know once he wakes, he’ll be shouting for meat and jumping around like nothing happened.” Nami muttered like a disapproving mother as she left and you let out a small laugh. 

Now close enough you lightly pushed the hair from his face, smiling to see that the mention of meat had made him grin in his sleep. Your worries all but left you now to see that. As long as he could smile, you would find the strength to do so too. You pulled your hand back and turned to leave the room, letting your significant -but reckless- other rest. Except you stopped when his hand clasped around your wrist. You turned in shock, he was awake already?

Your eyes widened to see that he was still unconscious. You were about to call for Chopper but all that could escape your lips was a gasp of surprise when you were abruptly pulled down onto the bed. Through muscle memory or pure instinct, Luffy lay with his arms around you the perfect balance of protectiveness and possessiveness in his hold. It was like this every night you both slept in your shared quarters. When his head lay against your chest while mumbling your name in in his sleep you smiled warmly, overcome with a sense of belonging and joy to know that you will always be something Luffy needed.

ZORO

Zoro was frustrated; his form was too tense, nothing was landing the way he wanted, the way he needed to. If he was to get stronger, to become the best this wasn’t good enough. If he was in an actual fight and not training he’d be losing. Angrily he swore and let his weights fall loudly onto the floor. Storming out of the Crow’s Nest he sought the one thing he desperately needed to make this frustration and tension go away. Listening intently he heard your familiar laugh sound from the kitchen and dining room. Striding in he saw you listening to Usopp telling a story of the crew’s adventures from the early days before you’d joined. 

Just seeing you help Usopp cleaning up was enough to help his mood but still it wasn’t enough. He needed more, he craved you. Your warmth, your very essence and it was now he realised why he had felt so off. He hadn’t gotten enough of you today. With the watch rotations from the night before, usual morning chores, and then when Robin and Chopper had called you away to help them with their nonsense it had disrupted your usual time together completely. Now that he knew what his issue was, the solution was so simple. Wasting no more time he walked across the room with you in his sights. 

You’d blinked in confusion when Usopp trailed off in the middle of his story and looked behind your shoulder. Slowly you turned and smiled at Zoro, believing he’d only stop his training midway through for food or an equally important emergency. “Hey, is everything okay? Do you need something?” 

“Yeah. You.” Zoro stated firmly when he closed the distance. Before you could react, your boyfriend had his hands secured to your waist and pulled you forward so his lips could find yours, coaxing you into an increasingly hungry, intense kiss. Zoro savoured every moment of it, taking in every second and reclaiming the time he’d lost out on just being with you. As dizzying and as powerful the kiss was you could feel the shift in your lover; as subtle as it was you could tell he had been holding onto something that was making him more tense than normal. If this was what fixed it you weren’t complaining. When you finally pulled away to catch your breath, Zoro let out a huff of relief. 

Now energised and focussed, Zoro threw you over his shoulder allowing himself a smirk when you yelped at the sudden action. Knowing it was pointless to even pretend like you wanted to struggle out of his hold you enjoyed the luxury of Zoro carrying you out of the kitchen and up to the Crows Nest so he could finish his training. Whether you remained on his shoulder or just sitting to the side and watching it didn’t matter to Zoro. As long as he had you in his vicinity, one of his main motivations for getting stronger that was all that mattered.  

SHANKS

“If you think you’re looking cool and brooding over here, I hate to break it to you Captain you look more like you’re sulking.” Beckman laughed from behind his mug of ale. Shank clicked his tongue in annoyance and took a slow sip of his own drink, watching as you talked and laughed with the new recruits of the crew. You’d all decided to stay the night at one of the islands under your protection. The first time for the new recruits to get to terms with how the Red Haired Pirates did things beyond just sailing the seas. It also gave everyone a chance to unwind and enjoy some shore leave. 

It was only natural that the new crew members would gravitate towards you, after all you were the go-between for them. You were the one they asked for help with things to avoid disappointing or angering their intimidating but inspiring Captain. They were still finding their place in the crew with the longer standing members and you’d promised them all it would take time and that they’d all been welcomed onto the crew for a reason. Still they all felt the most comfortable with you so far. Unfortunately your lover and Captain didn’t want to see it that way. He was jealous of them claiming your attention all the time and he missed you even though you hadn’t gone anywhere.   

Shanks’ eyes met yours when you looked over to check on him. He tried to keep his expression level but clearly it wasn’t convincing enough because you swiftly but politely excused yourself from the group you were with and stepped up to where your Captain was sitting. Slowly you turned your head towards Beckman and jerked your head. A silent request for him to leave you both alone. As much as he’d love to stay and watch you expertly handle the Pirate Emperor he knew to give you both some sort of privacy and left. 

With a tired sigh you slid into Shanks’ lap, throwing your legs over his and tucking your head under his chin. Wordlessly you took his mug of ale from his hand and coaxed his arm around your waist. “This is what you wanted right? Me all to yourself.” You asked with a smile before taking a sip of the ale. You knew Shanks better than most, he wouldn’t offer an explanation for his mood unless you started the conversation. His arm tightened around you and he chuckled softly. 

“Can you blame me? Your very presence is utterly intoxicating to me. Why would I want to share my treasure with anyone?” Shanks asked and you rolled your eyes at his words with a small smile. You did want to remind him that he had nothing to be jealous about, everyone knew you were an item but still it was cute to have him still be like this after so many years together. “I mean it you know. I can’t get enough of you, need you more than breathing.”

[captainjamster]

Everything fucking sucks.

It just does. You're tired of it; tired of it sucking, tired of waiting for it to get better, tired of being tired.

Today has pushed you over the edge. Everything has been too much - there's no room to shove it aside and compartmentalize it anymore. A lingering defeat festers between your ribs, crowing pleasedly at each obstacle in your day and feasting on the dispair that grows with each set-back.

The weight that's been dragging down at your shoulders almost pulls you to the ground as you finally step through the doorway, letting your things drop to the floor.

John's head pops up from the couch at the sound, bleary eyed and clearing his throat as he finds its source. He sits up as his eyes land on you, shuffling your feet over to him, and it takes one look at your expression for him to hold his arms wide open.

You accept the gesture wordlessly, slotting yourself against him as his arms secure you to his chest.

"My sweet thing," his voice rumbles, deep with the remnants of rest, through his chest. "My poor little darlin."

You inhale against the crook of his neck, trying to find some centre in the musk of his sweat, sleep and laundry detergent. There's the sound of his heart, strong and steady; the cologne you got for him last anniversary, lingering against the brush of his beard; the warmth of his arms, muscles tense as he squeezes you just a bit closer than usual; and the misery pulling at your heart that just doesn't care.

The tightness that's been threatening to choke you all day finally takes hold, turning your attempt at steady breathing into a ragged gasp, and you can't hold back the tears bubbling at your waterline anymore.

Thick, heavy droplets catch on the dense brush of hair, seeping into the collar of his shirt.

"I know lamb, I got you," he murmurs, low and sweet against the shell of your ear. Stocky fingers find your scalp, parting trails through your hair as he strokes your head gently.

John doesn't push for answers or reasons. He anchors you, a constant in the waves of anger and sadness, humming softly between hushed reassurances. Any apologies are batted away with little noises of disapproval, kissing the crown of your head between promises of love and patience.

You stay there, floating between consciousness as sleep tugs at you in gentle waves. Everything might still suck, sure, and John can't magically make it all go away. But right now, it's easier to decide that maybe you can keep going for a bit longer, if it'll always be just the two of you.

[blue-sadie]

Sun Bathing

Neteyam, Lo'ak x Neteyams Best Friend Reader x Aonung, Rotxo

Summary: the boys can get quite annoying hopefully this would keep them away for some time

Warning: the boys are perverts, jerking off, only male pleasure, aged up characters

It wasn't everyday I just got to breathe and relax, but here I am sun bathing in my sport bra and shorts chatting away with tsireya and kiri.

"Don't look now but there's creeps in the bush" kiri stated glancing over her shoulder towards the boys who were kneeling a few meters away whispering away with eachother.

"Should we move" tsireya asked sitting up to look at us, I sighed in disapproval "why should we their the ones being pervs" I muttered only glancing towards the boys who jerk away from sight when they saw that they were caught.

I rolled my eyes 'freaks' I layed my arm over my eyes sheltering them from the burning sun "you might be ok with them watching you but I think me and tsireya are gonna go" kiri said and they both said their goodbyes before leaving.

I let out a relaxed sigh quickly rolling my shoulders and getting comfortable on the warmed sand "look what we have here" aonung laughed bashfully as he and the rest of the boys surrounded me.

I only lifted my arm to look at neteyam "I didn't know you were apart of the common pervs nete" I murmured making him blush and shy away "im not a pervert" he tried sounding confident but his words ended in a slight squeak.

"Well I mean have you seen what you look like" lo'ak clapped and he stared down at me with hungry eyes "now now boys I'm relaxing go jerk off some place else" I shooed them away only making them laugh.

"But your just so sexy sitting here in the sun" aonung bit his lip as he folded his arms over his chest "and you like a prepubescent teen now shoo" I muttered getting annoyed at them disturbing me.

"You can do something for us first sweetcheeks" lo'ak groaned as he grabbed his crotch making aonung and rotxo laugh, I exhaled forcefully and slowly rose to my cheeks.

"Fine but you guys owe my 5 months without chores" I said making the boys howl out in excitement "come on" lo'ak muttered and grabbed my hand pulling me into the forest the others following very closely.

When we came into a clearing far from the village did he finally let me go "are you sure about this yn" neteyam whispered to me his voice full of concern.

"If it gets you guys to leave me alone" I giggled and pulled my top off making his eyes bulge "f-fuck" he stuttered.

Aonung pulled me to a rock and pushed me down on it and they crowed around me, Lo'ak reached out his hand and caressed my cheek.

"Will you guys leave me alone after this" I asked and gasped as aonung grabbed my breasts "well it was a deal wasn't it" he groaned and pitched my nibbles making me moan in pain.

They pulled off my clothes leaving me bare and the gaped at my body and started touching themselves as they said all the things they wanted to do to me.

I started caressing myself teasing them slowly making themselves jerk off faster and groan at my teasing, I dragged my fingertips up and down my body leaving goosebumps along my body.

"C-cuming" "fuck" they cussed as the cam spraying their cum on me, making me gasp, they calmed down and helped me clean up and walk back to the beach.

Let's just say they didn't keep to their end of the deal

[anystalker707]

What do I get in return?

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Zoro was alone in the Crow's Nest. Tags: shy zoro / jerking off / oral requested by anon

MASTER LIST

          Night had fallen a while ago, and aside from the sound of the waves, he could only hear the ship's creaking as it swayed on the sea. Whoever was at night watch wouldn’t go anywhere near the Crow’s Nest. They never did, anyway, so he didn’t think much before he started pushing his pants down just a little, just enough, breath hitching just the slightest when the fabric grazed against his cock. It had been bothering him for a while already.

Zoro let his tongue out to wet his lips and exhaled shakily while wrapping his hand around his cock, feeling a certain relief when the pleasure of the simple grip sparkled up his spine, making his cock twitch in his hand. He had to give himself a moment before he started lazily moving his hand. He pressed his eyes shut, searching his mind for a guilty pleasure that had been tormenting him lately, and his mind immediately went to the way you’d helped him earlier that week.

Zoro’s cock twitched, a bead of pre-cum escaping his tip without needing much, so he stilled his hand for a few seconds before letting his mind wander again. Your hands kneaded into his muscles with a strong yet gentle touch to help him out with some soreness, and he had to look away before his mind wandered too far and ruined the moment, but now he could fantasize about it all he wanted, dwell into that unspoken tension between the two of you.

A low sound escaped Zoro’s lips as he pressed his thumb to his tip, collecting the pre-cum and using it as lube to rub the sensitive spot right under the head. His hips bucked into his hand involuntarily, and he tried to imagine how it’d be if you were the one touching his cock instead, smirking and teasing him. Fingers leisurely working on his sensitive spots, compelling him to fall apart on your will.

With a shaky groan, Zoro tightened his hand around his cock, stroking it at a firmer and faster pace, his movements now smoother when more pre-cum ran down his length, and— You.

Zoro’s brain short-circuited as he opened his eyes and saw you right there, halfway through the hatch, observing him. His cock throbbed, and he hoped he would disappear, but he didn’t. For how long had you been there? “For how long have you been there?” He grunted, his cheeks red with embarrassment, as his hands covered his cock.

You raised an eyebrow, an elbow on the floor, and shrugged. “You don’t want to know,” you said, finally climbing into the Crow’s Nest properly, kicking the hatch closed before making your way over without stepping on the weights carelessly left on the wooden ground.

His eyes followed you, and Zoro was about to say something when he let out a questioning hum instead, furrowing his eyebrows as you stopped before him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping you,” you said as if it were obvious, giving him a moment or two before your lips curled into a smile at the fact he didn’t kick you out of there. “You’re always so tense. Come on, let go for a little,” you mumbled while slowly kneeling between his spread legs, and he couldn’t do anything but observe, mentally cursing everyone and everything, even himself, for how much he loved that.

Zoro found himself unable to tear his gaze away from yours. He resisted at first once your hands rested on his forearms, but he couldn’t do it anymore after your fingertips caressed his skin gently. Your touch sent a shiver down his spine, reminding him of his ache for you.

Sighing, Zoro gave in. His cock twitched—your gaze shifted the moment your eyes landed on his cock, and it somehow managed to make Zoro even more aroused. His hands fidgeted around a little before he finally let them rest on the couch, each by one of his thighs; still, he was far from relaxed. Zoro’s eyes caught on every little detail of your expression, searching for disapproval, disgust, whatever, even though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if there were any.

Your hand was warm around Zoro’s cock, holding the base firmly, then giving it a few tentative strokes; his legs twitched a little, and he cursed himself for being so sensitive. He bit his lip to muffle a sound, and his eyes closed compulsorily, but he quickly opened them again at your breath fanning over his cock.

“Mm?” You looked up at Zoro, your free hand on his thigh while this other gave his cock a squeeze. He pressed his lips together and leaned back on the couch, nails sinking into his palms, but all the effort seemed meaningless when your tongue touched his cock. The feeling was better than anything he could’ve made himself feel with his hands or summoned with his mind if he were otherwise to deal with his wants alone.

Your tongue ran from the base to the tip, warm and wet, with a texture that had his thighs quivering. Zoro thought he would eventually get used to it, but his body betrayed his own will, tensing up with almost every action of yours.

The tip of your tongue traced the veins on the underside of Zoro’s cock, giving attention to each one of them, and your lips wrapped around the tip. He had to take a deep breath, failing with the attempt to avert his gaze, even if the way you observed him intently had nervousness bubbling under his skin. Your mouth was warm, slowly enveloping his cock until halfway through it just to pull back again, letting the cold air uncomfortably replace it.

It felt too good. Zoro hated how much he enjoyed it, his thoughts puzzled, swimming, and he tried to hold on to mentally cursing, even though he loved it when you nuzzled his crotch while stroking his cock. Steady breathing fanned against his skin, and you were soon mouthing at his balls. His hips bucked again, cock twitching, and he wondered how you could make it feel so good. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped his lips with the sucks and licks, and it was too late when he tried to give a damn about it. You had some sort of effect on him.

Zoro’s cock covered part of your face and one of your eyes, but you still seemed to sense his gaze and look up at him. That look alone felt like a drag to the edge. He couldn’t help but moan again. His cheeks burned when your lips curled into a smirk, and he had to look away, cursing under his breath, almost back to reality again when your lips had his brain mushy once more.

Pleasure sparkled down his spine, compelling his thighs to quiver at the same time his nails sank more into his palm—the small pain was insignificant compared to the sensation of your mouth wrapped around his cock while your throat tensed up around his tip. Zoro would thrust into your mouth if you didn’t have that grip over him. Not a physical grip, no, it was just— The confidence, the skill, the way you handled him. Zoro didn’t know how to deal with that, and he preferred not to risk.

You swallowed around his cock, fingers sinking into his thigh, and you started bobbing your head, keeping a grip firm around the base. Eventually, your cheeks hollowed, and Zoro let out another moan, a louder one, arching his back. A familiar tingling took place in his lower stomach. You probably knew that, and he didn’t think he’d be able to say a word anyway. His hips bucked a little, his cock twitched, and your hand found his balls; it was like the cherry on top.

“Nngh,” Zoro gasped, hips jerking again, his mind already foggy. The moans escaped his lips more freely, filling the Crow’s Nest with low groans and panting over the slick noises, until he was saying your name and cumming down your throat. He didn’t remember the last time he had that kind of orgasm, mind-blanking and so draining, leaving his legs weak. A grumble escaped his lips as you eased him down from the climax, licking him clean, before you pressed soft kisses along the v-line by his left hip. He wanted to say something, but his mind could barely process where he was, let alone put words together to form a proper sentence.

“Come on,” you said, cutting through his thoughts. “I expect some sort of gratification.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[vigilskeep]

tevinter nights spoilers ahead

i’m really curious what happened to lucanis prior to his appearance in tevinter nights to make him so immediately, viscerally angry in response to crimes against slaves. of course that’s an understandable moral response, but you’d think a human assassin working in the middle of tevinter would be more callous than that, right? or at least thicker skinned than this? lucanis looks at an opulent building and immediately thinks about the slaves who broke their backs building it. he asks a slave who hurt her and on hearing the answer has to make a fist to contain his anger. he sees slaves having been cruelly experimented on and he actually starts breathing quicker to the point his cousin notices and puts a hand on his shoulder; he has to think back to his training to calm himself down. he refuses to silence a slave who saw their faces. he immediately starts breaking the shackles of the experiment subjects and says “fuck the job” when his cousin objects, despite being explicitly written as extremely focused and dedicated to his contracts otherwise, having delayed a summons from his abusive grandmother, the leader of the crows, in order to stay here and get the job done. he then insists on getting every slave in the building possible out of danger while he lets loose literal demons for their master to die with all the brutality he deserves, when a quicker death would have been safe and easy and they literally had an opportunity to do that which he stopped his cousin from taking. he then gets three ribs broken in that demon fight! (it’s completely unhinged. huge fan.)

where is this conscience coming from? they surely don’t train it into crow children. zevran strongly disapproved of letting a magister take elven slaves in origins, but that made more obvious sense: he’s an elf, he was sold to the crows as a child, and he could personally relate to wanting his freedom, whereas lucanis is human, was born into the crows, and claims to have no desire to leave them. why is it so personal to him? it probably can’t have always been true; his cousin, who has known him all their lives, says he wouldn’t have expected this soft heart from him and is stunned by the lengths he goes to. but lucanis has been spending lots of time in tevinter while illario has often been back in antiva. did something happen while illario wasn’t there? what could have had such an effect? it could be that the slaves are irrelevant and lucanis is simply taking deadly risks on purpose—by the end of the story it’s clear his cousin is worried about him—but that doesn’t explain all the anger

[chososdiscordkitten]

Obsessive!Choso♡ pt6

pt 5 here content: stalking, (duh.) thoughts of violence, blackmail, mentions of grooming, overall Choso thinking he's a good guy, paranoia, starting to feel the anxiety of someone possibly stalking reader

(a.n) I wrote this listening to 'Black no 1 - Type O Negative'

Taglist: @sunaumei @ex-ria @just-pure-trash @kha-0s @flam3bird @waytootiredforthisss @blindedbylighting @chosowhore @bash1018 @tetsuswhore @ofalcaodacolinablue @mahgyu @notiddygxthgf

Obsessive!Choso who looked at you, had a smile on his face before interrupting your ‘friend’. “Of course I'd like to join you.” Looking over to this, Theo. Seeing his eyes full of disappointment, a sinister smile formed on Choso's lips. Knowing that this person will never even come close to making you feel the way he does. ‘It’s okay. You can try and find scraps of me in other men. I'm patient. I will wait for you to come back to me when these men can't hold a candle to the thought of me. I will wait.’ he thought, calling your name. Sitting across from you and your ‘friend’. This guy was staring at Choso as though he could read his thoughts. Smile on his face, knowing he'd never be able to. Awkward tension in the air, making you want to shrink into your seat. Seeing you about to speak up but he needed to know. Know what you see in this shallow man. “What did you say you did for a living?” Choso asked, the question was harmless. But his eyes gave away his true intentions. ‘I'll find you. I'll find out how to ruin you.’ Making the man squint, “I didn't, but I work in tech.” He started, droning on and on about his job. Looking over at you, your face bored as though you'd heard him say the same thing over and over again. ‘Idiot. I didn't even have to ask him another question- he's telling me everything I need.’

Holding back a smile. Nodding his head, mocking him while hearing your ‘friend’ yap on and on. “And you? How could you afford to come to such a college? Especially so far away from home.” Passive aggressive. Choso saw what he was trying to do. “Don't tell me-” Theo started, closing his eyes and pretending to think. “Trust fund?” He asked sarcastically, making you look over to him in shock. “God no-” Choso laughed, thinking of all the ways he could dispose of him. “Though I'm sure you'd know all about that.” He kept a playful tone, but his eyes gave him away. Hearing your friend laugh, “You kids these days. Always so quick to snap.” Theo smiled, ‘I'll show you what snapping is.’ crow's feet forming at the corners of his eyes. ‘See? He sees you as nothing but a child. Tell me you see it too.’ he thought, looking over at you to see what you'd say. 

Choso’s anger pooled in his gut when he saw the way Theo looked at you. Almost telling you to keep your mouth shut. Nodding your head in disapproval. True, you only invited Choso to see how he'd act. See if he would show you some kind of indication as to how he felt about you. But this- this was just awkward. Seeing you look down at the menu, your fingers on your forehead. Theo looking down at his phone, before leaning over to your ear and whispering something. ‘I'll kill him.’ he vowed, seeing your eyes widened at Theo’s whispers. Looking over at him, “Really?” You asked, seeing him stand up and kiss the top of your head. All while staring directly at Choso. “It's work-I'll call you later, babe.” before walking off, answering a call on his phone. ‘This is who you replaced me with?’ seeing you ease your shoulders the second he left. “Known him long?” He asked, breaking the silence. Making you smile at how he was starting to show you some kind of jealousy, “A while. I guess.” You smiled, taking a drink from your cup, raising your eyebrows at him. Seeing him nod, almost disapprovingly. “I must be missing something here- clearly.” He spoke, “I mean- he's well read, he's nice. What more could I ask for in a friend?” you exhaled, dropping your smile before looking down at the menu again. ‘Well read? Nice? He just left you for work, called you a child and looks old enough to be your father.’ scoffing as he replayed the words in his head. “Problem?” You asked, trying to get him to admit he was jealous. 

What Choso felt wasn't jealousy, he felt possessive. Like if he saw you once more with that man- he'd have to show you just how possessive he was. “You're naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.” He scoffed, seeing you furrow your eyebrows. This was fun- at first. But now he's calling you naive- almost telling you that you're an idiot. Seeing you exhale- 'You're getting angry.’ It wasn't the fact he was asking too many questions. It was the fact that he didn't just tell you what he was thinking. Dancing around what you wanted to hear. Smile on your lips, opening your mouth to say something- to ask him if he was being jealous. But thinking before you spoke. “I think I'm going back home. Theo was right- you must be tired.” You mumbled, standing up and seeing his face fall. It wasn't the fact that he didn't show you what you wanted to see, it felt belittling when he looked at you like that. Almost telling you ‘This isn't you.’ but not saying it, it almost felt like…slut shaming? Hearing him ask you to wait, but you walked away. ‘Our first fight.’ he thought, watching you walk out the doors of the restaurant. 

Obsessive!Choso who kept apologizing to you mentally, ‘I know I should apologize. Show up to your door with a thousand flowers and beg you on my hands and knees to forgive me. But I have work to do. I need to find out who this ‘Theo’ in tech is. I need to make sure he isn't a stalker or a serial killer.’ he'd thought, scrolling through your following list, trying to find anyone with the same name, but he came up empty handed. Searching up his name followed by tech companies. So very easy to find his full name and the name of the company he worked for. Opening Theo’s instagram, ‘Babe? Babe, you're dating a douchebag.’ he teased you in his own mind, scrolling through the many photos of him on yachts and of him doing whatever the fuck ‘Hot yoga’ was. Going to his tagged, so many pictures of him with other women. ‘Busy boy aren't you?’ His profile was littered with women in tiny bikinis. ‘Somehow you're always on vacation, year round huh?’ Finding the one picture he knew would lead him to what he was looking for. A family photo, his son and wife posing happily. ‘Of course he's married.’ he'd think, clicking on the account that was tagged on his wife. Endless pictures of her house, of her family, comparing the two instagram accounts. ‘I know you don’t know he's married. He spewed a bunch of bullshit to you. He manipulated you. Do you know about all these pictures?’ thinking while refreshing the page- seeing he had just posted something. ‘I mean come on. You're making this too easy.’ seeing photos with someone that very much wasn't you. ‘Either he told you he didn't have social media or you know. But you're not like that- I know you. You wouldn't date a married man.’

Obsessive!Choso who printed each photo he could find that was incriminating. ’It's clear here- he didn't miss you when you were gone. You mean nothing to him.’ You know it was serious when he printed the photos in color. Making two copies of each photo. Smile on his face while watching the ink dry. Typing out onto two forms, “Do you know what your husband is up to?” Slipping it into a yellow folder with the photos. And on the other, “Be careful who you let into your life.” addressing one to his wife and the other to you. Writing down the address that was almost too easy to find. And holding onto the other for the next time he'd go by your house. ‘I'm doing this for you. I know you don't see what I see. But that's why you need me. You need me to protect you from all the people in the world that will try to hurt you.’ 

Sending out the envelope to Theo’s wife. Going to your house while you were in the coffee shop on campus. Placing it on the doormat before walking back to where he last saw you. Walking directly to where you were sitting. It was the next day- he didn't text and neither did you. But Choso knew he had to be there for you- especially now with that little present he left on your doorstep. Seeing you move your eyes to look at him. Not even greeting him with a smile. “Could I sit?” He asked, the soft tone he took made you almost forget why you were upset. ‘Mhm.’ he heard from you, looking back down at your book. Glancing up when you saw him shifting in his seat. “I'm sorry.” He started, seeing you purse your lips and look at him. “For?” You asked, your tone stern, wanting to be sure that he knew what he did wrong. Choso felt goosebumps on his arms at hearing how upset you sounded, “For being mean. And for not being supportive.” He exhaled, you looked at him. He looked like a child that was being scolded, hands between his knees and looking away from your gaze. Smile forming on your face when you thought of what to say. “And why were you mean and unsupportive?” you asked, your tone cold as he looked up to see you. Opening his mouth to speak, thinking of what he could say to you. Choso felt his ears could burn off at any second. “I was-” he started, “I was worried.” he urged, seeing you tilt your head and squint your eyes. “About what? Don't think I can take care of myself?” You taunted, seeing him become more and more flustered every time you spoke. ‘I know you can't. I've seen how much you can't take care of yourself.’ 

Obsessive!Choso who was stuttering and stumbling over his words. “That's not what I'm saying-” he started, seeing you squint at him. It was happening again. “I've seen you walk home alone and- and it worries me- people are crazy and I don't want you to get kidnapped- or worse-” He threw so many words at you, he didn't even know what he was saying. But seeing you crack a smile and close your eyes eased him. “I won’t get kidnapped. I'll try my best not to.” You smiled, letting go of the stern face when you saw how flushed he became. “And as for Theo- he was my ex-boyfriend's step dad.” You confessed, seeing Choso’s face drop. Looking away from you and trying to connect the dots. “From highschool- my ex wasn't the greatest kid and Theo really helped me out.” You smiled, ‘He groomed you. Didn't he?’ 

The agonizing feeling of wanting to throw up when he heard you tell the disgusting tale of the man he was. “I was 15 or 16 I think- when Theo helped me leave his son. His wife wasn't the greatest person either, always accusing me of- vile things.” You exhaled, telling this to Choso as though he was your prince charming. “But he got me my own place, got me a car. Helped me choose this college; helped me leave my family.” You continued, remembering the unpleasant memories from home. ‘He deserves worse than me ruining his life.’ he thought, seeing your face almost light up while telling him how Theo came to see you- to check up on you. ‘I will kill him for you. I will chop him into pieces and throw him into a construct-’ his violent thoughts were interrupted. “Oh my god- Choso your nose!” you exclaimed, reaching for paper towels from the small dispenser on the table. 

So much anger that his nose actually started bleeding. Wiping it with his fingers, feeling it drip into his mouth. Trailing the tips of his fingers down to his lips before pulling them away and seeing them covered in blood. Looking over at you with hazy eyes, pressing napkins onto his face, Hearing you ask him something, but deaf with rage. Looking up at you through his eyelashes, now standing in front of him, a napkin pressed firmly onto his pierced nose as your other hand held the back of his head still. “Are you okay?” you asked him, face full of worry. The feeling of your hands on his head made him forget that he was currently bleeding, thinking you were holding his face with deep devotion. Feeling him nod against your hands. Pulling your hands from him slowly, looking at his face to see if he was truly okay. 

Obsessive!Choso who spent the next two hours at the cafe with you, hearing you speak about the man who tried to take you away from him. Pocketing the anger he felt, knowing if he saw him once more- he would beat him bloody. Flashing images of him taking advantage of you, when you were just a child. Following you home, watching from a distance when you picked up the large folder labeled with your name. Opening it and reading the paper, eyes skimming the photos. He was far, but not far enough to see the shock and fear on your face when you looked around. Trying to see who left these here. Seeing you open the door to your house, picturing you walking up the steps and into your bedroom. Dialing the phone to call your self proclaimed prince charming, if only you knew the true one was outside watching you. Phone pressed to your ear as you paced the window. Silent tears falling from your eyes as you waited for him to answer. Seeing you opening your mouth, speaking to him. Reading your lips, asking him ‘what the fuck these photos were. And who sent them’ only to be yelled “Not now!” before hanging up. Knowing that Theo was the kind of idiot who’d choose someone else over you. But thankful for his idiocy. The feeling of losing one of the only ‘parental’ figures in your life was destroying. Choso stepped closer to your house, being able to hear your sobs. ‘It's okay.’ he comforted you. Your weeping made him want to cry with you. ‘This had to be done. I had to make you see that nobody will love you the way I do.’

Obsessive!Choso who didn't hear from you for the next two days, taking strolls to your house and seeing you were in your bedroom. He didn't know you hadn't left because of the fear that someone was actually stalking you. Almost like you felt his presence, going insane inside that house. All alone, still a week left before your roommates came home. You called him, tears in your eyes at the thoughts in your head. “Hey.” you whispered, voice cracked before you sniffled. This made his heart break, knowing you were wasting tears on that pig who hurt you. Closing his eyes in pain. “Hey- I haven't heard from you in a while.” He spoke, feigning being clueless before he heard you let out a quick ‘Ha-ha’. “Yeah- I'm sorry.” You apologized, feeling tears prick your cheeks. “Are you okay?” he asked, hearing you let out a choked sigh as you closed your eyes, smiling at the comfort his voice brought you. “No. Not at all. But I was wondering if you could come see me?” You asked, sniffling away your embarrassment. Feeling like Choso was the only one you could trust right now. “Of course- at the cafe?” He asked, seeing you step in front of your window, looking out and feeling like you were being watched. Closing the curtain before answering him, “No- No you can just come to my house.” You sat on your bed, closing your eyes and listening to him. “Yeah- yeah, wherever you want.” He replied, almost telling you he'd see you in a few minutes, but remembering you hadn't actually given him your address yet. “Send me the address, okay?” He asked you, making you smile as you huddled over your legs. Mumbling a small, ‘Mhm’ before he asked, “Do you need anything? Something to drink or a snack?” He asked, making you giggle. “No. No I just need-” You started, feeling your cheeks warm at what you were about to say, ‘Me. you just need me.’ he thought. “Please. Please just get here as soon as you can.” You spoke, not wanting it to sound so pathetic but it did.

It took all the strength he had to not run across the street to knock on your door. Instead, walking to the small grocery store that was close to your house. Picking up a few vegetables and some tilapia fish. Wanting to show you just how well he could take care of you if you let him. Almost running to your house 15 minutes after you sent him the address. Knocking on the door and hearing you open it immediately. No makeup, evident bags under your eyes and in your pajamas at 5:34 pm. And still, you looked otherworldly in his eyes. “Hey-” you murmured, voice pained as you fought off tears. Looking at him, no eyeshadow, and his hair down. “You, my dear-” he started, making you smile at his words. Seeing him take a step inside and kicking the door shut. Heavy boots clacking on the wood flooring. “Look like you need a hug. “ He said, holding the plastic bag in his hand. Nodding your head yes before seeing him place the bag on the table next to the door. Taking a step towards you and snaking your arms around him, closing your eyes as you pressed the side of your face to his chest. Exhaling as though he knew exactly what you needed. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders without any hesitation this time. Squeezing you tightly, resisting the urge to kiss the top of your head, feeling you smile against him. Pulling away from him and grinning. “You wanna talk about it?” He asked, seeing you look down at your socks. “No- if that's okay.” You mumbled, “What did you bring?” you whispered, seeing him look over at the bag. “Don’t worry about it.” He smiled, kicking his shoes off at the door. 

Obsessive!Choso who convinced you to stay on the couch while he cooked for you, eyes following his every move. Sleeves rolled up and hair pulled back, cutting up carrots. Catching you staring multiple times, only smiling before continuing to mince the vegetables. “I didn't know you cooked.” You grinned, seeing him place the vegetables into the pan your roommates had told you multiple times not to use. “I never liked mentioning it- and unexpected, don't you think?” His tone was soft, not bothering to use the rugged act he used in public. Not now. “Definitely.” You replied, seeing the sun setting while Choso infused his love into what he was making. “You don't cook?” He asked, looking up from the stove, placing the knives and cutting board into the sink. “Growing up I was always told I had hands that were like a stomach- destroying everything they touch.” You laughed, seeing him not find it funny. “I mean- it's true. I can't cook for the life of me, and I never had the patience for baking.” Seeing him return you a smile, ‘This is what life would be like with me. You'd never have to cook, or clean. I'd do everything for you.’ he'd think, turning around and hiding his toothy smile from you. 

Obsessive!Choso who reached into your cupboards, pulling out two oval plates. Calling you over, telling you to close your eyes. Sitting at the small table in your kitchen, opening them and seeing the plate he served for you. Choso let out a small ‘Ta-da’ Opening your mouth with furrowed eyebrows. “I don't even want to eat it- it's a masterpiece.” You smiled, seeing him place the pan into the sink before sitting down next to you, waiting for you to take the first bite. “You have to, I need to know if you like it.” he smiled, his hands in between his knees. Watching you pick up the fork, picking up a piece of vegetables and a good chunk of the fish. “Careful, it's hot.” He mumbled, smile on your lips before blowing gently onto the food. Almost dying when he saw you place it into your mouth, biting down and closing your eyes. His face winced when you looked at him. “Is it not good?” he asked, seeing you furrow your eyebrows and finish chewing. Running your tongue across the front of your teeth. “I haven't eaten a home cooked meal this good in 3 years.” You smiled, looking at him light up at your words. “Is it-?” he asked, seeing you nod quickly before taking another bite, “Whatever major you're in- change it. Go to culinary school. Jesus.” You smiled, taking another bite. Making him smile and look down at his own plate. “Did your parents teach you?” you asked, taking a drink from the glass to your right. “I taught myself-” he exhaled, placing his cutlery down and looking at you. “My mother passed away when I was young, I was 10, I think” He exhaled, seeing you pinch your eyebrows. “And my father wasn't the kind of man to stick around- so I learned for my brothers.” He smiled, looking at your face of sorrow. Reaching for his wrist, “I'm so sorry Choso.” You whispered. Seeing him look down at his plate. “If I didn't learn how- they'd still be eating microwaved hotdogs and chocolate milk for all 3 meals.” he chuckled, lightening the mood, seeing you smile. “Who cooks for them now?” You asked, leaning onto your hand as he exhaled. “They're all grown up now- either they cook for themselves or they eat leftover pizza.” he smiled, the memories of when he first started cooking for them flashing in his mind. 

Looking down at your plate and then at his, noticing yours lacked mushrooms “Why doesn't mine have any mushrooms?” You asked, seeing his smile fall. A few seconds of silence in the air before he spoke. “I remembered you mentioned something about not liking them.” The smile that was previously on his face returned. “You remember everything, don't you?” You smiled, looking down at your plate to hide the warmth that was rising on your cheeks. “That reminds me-” He smiled, standing up and going to the coat hanger by your door. Reaching into the pocket and pulling out a small square of tissue paper. “I know Christmas has passed. But- I thought better late than never right?” He said, placing the square onto the table and seeing you return a blushing smile. “You didn't have to Choso-” Your eyebrows pinched. “I know- I know. But I wanted to.” He smiled, looking at your face. Mouthing, ‘Open it’ before you delicately opened the tissue paper. Slack jawed when you saw it. A small beaded bracelet, black and red beads with square letters. Your favorite band's name on it. Looking at him and feeling butterflies in your stomach. “Thank you.” you whispered, not remembering telling him about your favorite band, but chalking it up to you probably forgot, but he remembered. Slipping it onto your wrist, perfect fit. ‘I always want to know where you are. I want you to carry a piece of me with you everyday.’

“Is this a friendship bracelet?” You asked, seeing he had a similar one. “Only if you want it to be.” He smiled, seeing you look down at the colors. “Do you want it to be?” You smiled, looking into his eyes. Making his ears warm and a smile form on his lips, “I do.” seeing you look away from him, not wanting him to see you blush. ‘That won't be the first time I say those words. I'll make sure of that.’

-

pt 7 here

😳 tis getting a lil much no? I appreciate all your comments! I see them all and giggle while kicking my feet. I wont be able to reply to them cuz when it gets to tagging people- it gets confusing!!! also pls make sure your mentions are on like this

or else I wont be able to tag u!!!!

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Leonidas and Buddha with fem!Giyuu!reader headcanons

Warning(s): RoR manga spoilers up to ch. 78, violence, KNY manga and anime spoilers, strong language from Leonidas and Sanemi, ooc.

Collab work with @deathmetalunicorn1, based on her own headcanons with fem!giyuu!reader and Leonidas. Images of Leonidas and Buddha were provided by @enryegotrip.

So with that being said guys, sit back, relax, and let’s dive into these headcanons! :)

Being a Demon Slayer did not mean to wait on a crow with orders and directions to find the flesh-eating monsters. There was also intel gathering, working closely with the kakushi so that they were not overwhelmed with the number of injured and deceased Slayers, and being pestered by your peers to take an apprentice because you are the only Hashira who doesn’t have one. That isn’t necessarily true, though. You had every intention of taking Tanjiro Kamado as a tsuguko once he was proven to be trustworthy by other Hashra and Lord Ubuyashiki. 

He, at the very least, had what it takes to become the Water Hashira. He deserved to be the Water Hashira, more so than a failure like yourself. It makes sense to take Tanjiro and his sister in your care, housing them at the Waster Hashira residence with a room and food. So why was Kocho making a fuss about it? She stayed quiet about it before, and you assumed it was because she despised people who defended demons or disapproved of your decision to make Tanjiro your apprentice. But that shouldn’t be your concern, or Rengoku’s. 

Lord Ubuyashiki has allowed these children a chance to prove themselves, and you will not grant the other Hashira an opportunity to hurt them. You’ve lost count how many times a colleague has shown up at your door, and how simply slammed the door in their face. 

You weren’t in the mood to hear their excuses then, and still aren’t. 

Tanjiro was quick to warm up to you, profusely thanking you for all you’ve done even when you really didn’t do anything. If he and Nezuko were home from a mission, they’d welcome you back with light hugs and a warm meal. You made sure to make extra portions when you were alone, in case they didn’t come back until late at night, or tried to, depending on the crow’s swiftness with a message from the Kamado siblings. Against your better judgment, they became precious to you. You would show no mercy to anyone who would harm them, demon or Demon Slayers. 

But that was enough reminiscing. You, Tanjiro, and Nexuko were being sent to investigate a few territories where demons are reported to have been spotted and causing chaos. No one has been killed, though several civilians were injured, two are currently in critical condition at the Butterfly Mansion.

You almost felt sorry for Kocho. Almost.

Leonidas had not been happy lately. Greeks in his domain were being picked off left and right and no one could tell what was going on, except movement from their corner of their eye and that is all the information his men had been able to collect. Damn it all, what else could he do? What would Gorgo do? His heart twisted painfully at the thought of his wife. Because she had not been a warrior, she was not welcomed into Valhalla by side, instead residing in Elysium with other souls. It’d been so long since their separation and he never took another woman to his bed, putting that energy into training his men to be prepared for anything…until now. 

When another night-time report came in of yet another incident, Leonidas and his men immediately left camp to investigate. What he and his soldiers hadn’t expected, though, was to stumble upon three scrawny men gorging themselves on lifeless civilians, their hands and everywhere from the waist down covered in blood. 

Leonidas led the charge, swinging his shield and sword but the maggots barely flinched when they touched them. No….when the criminals turned to them with annoyed frowns, the Spartans saw rows of glistening white fangs and slitted amber irises. 

These weren’t men. They were monsters who were evenly matched with his men, both in agility and physical strength. All seemed lost until a woman, a boy, and a girl jumped into the fray. 

The smaller ones went against two of them while their de facto leader swiftly decapitated the other monster once she had gotten close enough to strike. She was calm, too calm for someone who faced a monster and cleavage spilling out of her…uniform. Or she didn’t give a shit about modesty in a life-or-death situation as she darted towards the others, providing the boy with enough cover to swing his sword across the monster’s neck while the girl held its accomplice by the throat and burned him.

Yes, she fucking set the bastard on fire. 

When the monsters disintegrated into ashes, Leonidas all but demanded who the hell they were and what are those things they just killed. The younger ones were startled by his command, but the woman simply blinked owlishly at him, as if she had been asked this question a dozen times. 

“That was…a demon.”

“A demon?” Leonidas snarled. 

“Yes, that was a demon. It feasts on human flesh and cannot be killed unless it is exposed to sunlight.” She said, sheathing the iridescent blue blade in her hand back into the scabbard hanging from her hip. “We are able to kill them because it is our duty as Demon Slayers.”

….If shit-head gods existed, then he supposed it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for the idea that demons did exist. But Leonidas did not survive wars on sheer strength or the number of armies under his commands or ‘blessings’ from the gods alone. He was a strategist. 

And he did not stop pestering the woman, who only introduced herself as the Water Hashira, until he’d squeezed every bit of information she knew about demons and the sword used to kill them. 

But she did not give in to his demands, and would not compromise the organization by telling him about their supplier. There was too much at stake....unless he was willingly to speak to her commander. She cannot guarantee if he will answer him or not, though…it seems he has many people to protect as well. 

Leonidas didn’t like it, but if this woman is willingly to arrange a meeting with a complete stranger like himself, he could not allow this opportunity to slip past him. He agreed to the conditions, and watched her and the other Demon Slayers leave, fussing over each like a group of misfit siblings rather than comrades on the battlefield. 

The Water Hashira came to personally escort him to Lord Ubuyashiki’s estate a week later. Kneeling outside on the grass near the veranda were the other high-ranking Demon Slayers, the Hashiras. When they stood in front of them, she too kneeled, her head down. Glancing over his shoulder, Leonidas could see the pissed off expressions on everyone’s faces. Suppose in their eyes, the Water Hashira had brought in an outsider to their organization and became the mediator of a meeting that should never have happened. 

If Lord Ubuyashiki hadn’t agreed to this, the Water Hashira’s actions might have been considered treason, and she’d be stripped of her rank plus any land she owned. But she was calm, not flinching or back talking to the other soldiers until one of them, a white-haired little prick with scars on his face made a snide comment about ‘being brainwashed by a brat and his demon sister’. 

“...Choose your next words carefully, Sanemi, or there won’t be another Wind Hashira among the ranks.”

“Is that a fucking threat, Tomioka?!” 

“It will be if you or the others make another attempt to hurt Tanjiro and Nezuko Kamado in my absence.” She said icily. “They are under my care and no harm will befall on them unless Nezuko succumbs to bloodlust. How can we call ourselves the pillars of this organization if we cannot trust them?”

“And how hasn’t your ass been killed yet with that thick head of yours?!” Sanemi barked. “God, you’re always like this, just doing whatever you want -”

“Oi, shithead.” The Spartan turned towards the Wind Hashira. “This woman is the reason my men are still alive. You’ll soon be in the presence of your commanding officer, so heel.” 

“THE FUCK YOU JUST SAID, GEEZER?!” 

“I said heel, you fucking mongrel.” Lenoidas’ eyes flashed dangerously, his temper about to boil over. “If that’s too hard to understand, shut up. And no talkin’ to a woman like that, got it? Gods, kids these days.”

“You son of -!”

“Sanemi, that is enough.” Tomioka said. “Be silent.”

“[First Name] -”

“Quiet, Kocho. Whatever grievances you have, I will gladly listen to them another time.” As soon as the Water Hashira hissed out those words, Lord Ubuyashiki appeared alongside his children and wife. When the Hashiras tried to voice their complaints in his presence, the scarred man all but silenced them with a finger pressed against his mouth. He then turned to him, apologizing for his children’s behavior and asked him to come inside to talk. 

The hours went by quickly, and Leonidas got the answers he wanted. Tomioka, the Water Hashira, whatever her name really was, had been assigned to escort him back to his domain. 

“Thank you…for defending me.” She murmured, her eyes looking straight head and face flushed a light shade of pink. “No one…has ever done that for me since I became a Hashira. They…do not like me. And I am…not like them.” 

Lenoidas raised an eyebrow. “Anyone in their right mind would defend a hell of a woman like yourself. Honorable, strong, and it’s pretty damned obvious that you love those kids in your unit as if they were your own children. In Sparta, there would be men lined up outside your home asking for a chance to court you with the intention of marriage. Hell, even I would have a hard time fending them all off.” 

When he saw the surprised look on her face, Leonidas gritted his teeth. It was obvious to him that her comrades did not think highly of her, and with her current mindset it had no positive impact on her self-esteem. 

Looks like they were just fellow Hashira, and nothing more. Assholes. He thought before he sighed, patting her affectionately on the head. “Wanna get a drink with me before we start heading back?” He asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. 

[First Name] agreed, and she followed him to a local pub. The Water Hashira hadn’t realized what he did was a pick-up line until he was on his fifth drink, and she was on her third. He didn’t expect her tolerance to be this high for a strong liquor. 

“You know this is a date right?”

Her comical reaction to his words made him roar with laughter; [Eye Color] orbs wide, face bright red, and her mouth formed into the shape of an ‘x’ with her drink still in her hand. He grinned at her from the rim of his glass. 

Shit, she’s adorable! 

Bonus Content:

The Spartans came to enjoy Tanjiro and Nezuko’s company over time, as well as their help in training them. While Tanjiro worked with the men to increase his physical strength and practice his swordsmanship, Nezuko would shrink down to her smallest size and play a nightly game of ‘tag’ with them to help the soldiers’ agility. Piggyback rides were her reward if she won. 

Buddha is someone who would rather take care of the demons who were bold enough to try and lay a hand on the humans who followed him. He is the enlightened one, and someone you really shouldn’t mess with. 

So imagine his surprise when the little bastards were actually able to keep up with his and his attacks, and without breaking a sweat. He had been minding his own business on a dreary summer morning, relaxing under a bodhi tree when one of the worshippers darted towards him, pleading for help and covered in blood that wasn’t his own. Naturally, he stood up and reassured the sobbing mortal that everything would be fine. 

Now, he was using the Six Realms staff and his eyes to parry and attack his opponents, yet these guys still kept getting up from the ground, snarling and glaring at him with bloodthirsty eyes. Huh…how long has it been since he had an opponent, no, opponents like this? Kintoki is probably the only other god he’d be more than happy to trade friendly blows, well, actually, the only one because he hated the other gods.

He was about to activate the Animal Realm: Club of Nirvana and stroke the demon in front of him when all of a sudden, a tiny girl dressed in a pink kimono with a bamboo stalk in her mouth struck the demon down with a single kick, decapitating him swiftly. 

The demon’s body collapsed onto the earth, twitching rapidly before clumps of flesh began to sprout from the neck, an enraged face beginning to morph until she stomped on it, her leg glowing a bright vermillion as the regenerating demon howled, flopping and twisting in a vain attempt to get free. In seconds, all that remained was a heap of dark ashes. The girl then looked up at him. Blinking her large pink eyes as if she didn’t do anything special. 

Buddha was about to ask the kid who she was when an ear-splitting shriek stopped him. The future flashed in front of him in an instant, and he acted quickly, switching from the Animal Realm to Asura Realm: Shield of Ahimsa to defect crescent-shaped sickles aimed at them. Naturally, the shield didn’t get a scratch and he and the little lady were all right.

“Get down!”

The enlightened one did not need to be told twice, ducking his head as a wild-haired boy in a green checkered haori exhale wisps of bright red-orangish flames before he swung his sword, slicing the demon’s neck and effectively removing its head from the main body. As the demon disintegrated into the same ashy remains as the other one, the boy turned around and looked at him worriedly. 

“Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Buddha just blinked. “No?” He said. The enlightened one watched the kid’s shoulders sag in relief before he smiled at him, the little lady running towards the boy and hugged him tightly. Ah….brother and sister maybe?

“Nezuko, did you get the demon that was trying to run away?”

Buddha looked over his shoulder, seeing a young woman decked out in a black uniform with gold buttons and a mismatched haori approached them, calm and expressionless. The little one - Nezuko, Buddha presumed, nodded happily with tiny flowers floating over her head. The boy beamed. 

“She did, and she’s gotten much better at controlling her Blood Demon Art, Tomioka-san!”

The young woman nodded. “Indeed. Tanjiro, when we return home, we’re going to work more on your Breathing techniques and footwork. You’re still moving based on instinct and waiting until your opponent strikes to make a move. I will not always be here to protect you.” She then looked at him, [Eye Color] irises calm as a lake with the slightest hint of curiosity. “Oh. You’re a god?”

Buddha met her gaze, his teeth clamping down on the lollipop in his mouth that he had forgotten was there the whole time until now.  “So what if I am? Got a problem, little lady?”

Tomioka furrowed her brow, head tilting to the side and arms crossed. “Why would I be troubled by someone I just met? As far as I am concerned…you’re not an enemy.” Her voice was cold and detached as she spoke, her stoic expression unchanging even the boy, Tanjiro, glared at him  with puffed up cheeks that reminded the enlightened one of a chipmunk. The little one, Nezuko, actually jumped up and grabbed one of his arms, swinging from it with a closed-eyed smile. 

What could he say? The kids loved him, and his candy. 

He pulled out a cola-flavored lollipop from his robes, handing it to her. Buddha watched Nezuko’s eyes brighten in joy and wonder as she extended an arm toward him, carefully cradling the lollipop in her open palm as if it were a lotus flower. She then hopped down, landing on her feet before running to Tanjiro, making happy, approved noises that were muffled by the bamboo piece in her mouth. Tanjiro chuckled, patting her head as he could see now that this god wasn’t a big bully. 

For a split second, the enlightened one saw the barest hint of a smile on the woman’s face before it was wiped away by horror…because the gray clouds in the sky were going away? 

Tomioka quickly removed her haori, shielding Nezuko from the sunlight piercing through the clouds and Tanjiro removed a large wooden box from his shoulders, urging Nezuko to get inside as soon as the door opened. Buddha watched in fascination as Nezuko shrunk to the size of a toddler and blitzed inside. Tanjiro locked it up before he shared a relieved look with his teacher. 

Buddha felt his lollipop between his lips nearly fall as he saw the flash of Tomioka’s thigh in her uniform, similar to what Tanjiro was wearing, but more form-fitting, showing off the very alluring body that she had been hiding under her haori. He did nothing to correct his gaze as he stared shamelessly at her.

Tanjiro sighed. “Thank you, Tomioka-san. Nezuko and I are both grateful that you’re looking out for us.”

She took her haori back, a small smile stretching across her lips before she stretched a hand and gently rubbed the top of his head just as he had done with his little sister earlier. She then turned her gaze to Buddha, causing the enlightened one to flinch slightly, though not before his own eyes lingered on her chest, her folded arms pushing them up just enough to tease him.

 She did not even seem to realize just how sexy she was when she spoke to him. “May I ask you some questions about the demon?”

He grinned, flashing a toothy grin at her. “Anything for the pretty lady~!”

She nodded, not reacting to the slightest at his subtle flirting. “Thank you for your cooperation with us.”

Buddha’s eyelid twitched before he glanced over at Tanjiro, who just shook his head with an exasperated smile. That was when the enlightened one realized, that the Water Hashira he’d come to know as [First Name] Tomioka, was dense as a brick wall. 

Taglist:

@myrisan-melodies

@praisethesuuun

@rukia-writes

[tikattu]

behold my durge (kaamos) and his half-assed tent.

he doesn't care much about decorating his area — he's more concerned about survival and being able to skedaddle asap if needed.

he has little to none personal belongings, but among them you can find maps, books, arrow crafting materials, and a single mindflayer tadpole specimen.

kaamos prefers dimly lit spots at the edges of a campsite.

a lone survivor of his old messenger crows joins him in act 2 and stays near his tent! the player can drive it off, but kaamos will greatly disapprove, and the bird will return the next time you take a long rest.

at night he can be seen a) maintaining his weapons (bow and shortsword), b) observing the tadpole, or c) interacting with the crow.

kaamos builds a tent only in act 1 and 2. in act 3 he will sleep inside buildings found at the campsite instead. he simply doesn't see a reason to build a tent when there's a (usually) more sturdy building with a roof right there.

[mothiir]

So how would a non-con totally casual affair between Sevatar x reader workout?

Fair warning, this turned into a bit of an essay :’)

In the books, it’s pretty strongly implied that there is something ‘not quite right’ about Sevatar — maybe he’s a sociopath, or maybe it’s just the general uncanniness of being a psyker. However, its enough for me to think that he probably isn’t the sort to muck in with his brothers every time they take a world and find some pretty women — I’m not saying that he disapproves, more that he just considers it all a little dull. Rape is just one of many crimes that his brothers commit, and most of his sexual appetites have probably been sublimated either into bearing the colossal weight of holding the majority of the Night Lords’ common sense, or into fighting back his latent psyker ability.

So, in a pre-heresy world — just because I like writing about things before everything crashes and burns (and because I don’t want to learn the heresy lore, there’s so much of it) — Sevatar is focused largely on torture-kill-flay. He also suffers from crippling migraines from said repressed psychic ability. The only thing that soothes the pain is the sound of crow wings flapping; back on his home planet he fed the crows bits of corpse, and although I’m not sure if he brought them with him when he travelled off with Konrad I’m going to say yes, because crows are great.

The reader is probably fairly new to Night Lord service — a conscript from one of the more compliant worlds, rather than a trophy of conquest, because Night Lord trophies don’t tend to last long. You’re doing your best to adapt to your new reality, keeping your head down, avoiding notice. The other serfs warn you that there are really only a few ways to deal with the inevitable attentions of bored Night Lords: get really good at hiding, deliberately make yourself look as unappealing as possible, or find one of the more tolerable Astartes and hope that he can be convinced to protect you in exchange for your body. That last one comes with considerable risk — Astartes are fickle, cruel things, and stories abound of poor women being bedded one day and flayed the next.

You have chosen to hide. That is why you find yourself in a corner of the Night Fall, eating the scraps of your breakfast, when you see a crow. For a moment, you think you’re hallucinating — then you realise that no, that is really a crow. They’re found all over the galaxy, spread by long-forgotten human colonisers, though this one is a little larger than the ones you are used to. Still, you give it a crust of bread, because it looks skinny, because you want to, because even now in the belly of hell you want to try and hold tight to the last lingering shreds of your decency. You are human, no matter how the creatures around you act.

It becomes a habit. You sneak off to feed the crows, and they come to recognise you, cawing in excitement when you arrive. You can never feed them more than a little bit of bread or some scraps of meat, but they don’t seem to care. They perch in your hair, peck at your ears, yell at you and at each other like fishwives announcing their catch. You imagine that they are treating you to all the latest gossip, and find yourself talking back to them. You tell them that you are lonely. That you are frightened. That even the other humans here are warped and bitter, and you pray that you will die before you become like them. And then you admit that isn’t true: that you don’t want to die. You want wings, you say, wings and keen black eyes. The freedom of a bird.

It’s all nonsense, of course, and you know in your heart that it cannot last — you’re certain that soon one of the other serfs will see you sneaking off and move to eliminate the birds, seeing them as pests. But, selfishly, you cannot bring yourself to stay away from them. Once or twice they bring you gifts in return for food: a veterbrae you’re almost certain is human in origin. A bit of skin, complete with tattoos. You graciously accept both, discarding the skin at the first opportunity, but keeping the bone. At least the bone doesn’t smell of death, and you can pretend it is something else. You keep it in your pocket, where it is swiftly worn smooth by your grasp.

And one day, it all changes. You sit in your usual place, with one crow in your hair, another in your lap, when the cawing starts up once more. Not a warning, but a welcome. An unseen door opens; the flock descends, and you’re left with two birds and the rabbit-pulse of your heart on your tongue. You don’t know who the First Captain is — your new masters haven’t really informed you of more than what is needed to do your duty — but you know that he is a Night Lord, and that you are dead. You wonder if he will spare the crows — you hope he will. Or maybe they will escape, with black wings and swift talons, and —

He’s feeding them. You freeze, once again thinking that this isn’t real, you must be hallucinating, and one of the crows takes advantage of your sudden lack of movement. She pulls a strip of flesh from the hunk of dripping red meat Sevatar holds, and flutters over to you, taking up position on your shoulder.

She then tries to ram the meat into your mouth. Crows, after all, are clever birds, and this one has been a mother thrice over, and she knows what starvation looks like. To her, you are a frail flock member, a chick in need of fattening up — and crows share with those who share with them. When you recoil, hand coming up to block her insistent jabs, she chatters impatiently, and pecks you smartly on the cheek in reprimand.

Sevatar laughs at the display. You’ve never heard a Night Lord laugh, because you’ve never been in a situation they find entertaining — which is much to your benefit, because those situations normally leave serfs dead or wishing they were. The sound distracts you, and the crow mother finally succeeds in jabbing the meat past your teeth. Horrified, you swallow, praying it isn’t human, and wondering if that’s it — if you are already dead, and this is some absurd afterlife hallucination.

For his part, Sevatar is interested. It takes a lot to ignite any curiosity in his jaded mind, but here you are, like a flash of iridescence on a magpie’s wing; something bright amongst the monochrome.

He has you feed the crows with him, noting how gentle you are with them, even when they leave your hands bloody with acquisitive little pecks — nothing malicious about it, only that they are scavengers, and sometimes you do not magic the food up fast enough. You tell him your name and your position in a trembling voice, and he informs you that you have been reassigned. You do not question this. You do not question much — it’s how you have survived so long.

He takes you to his quarters, and of course you fear the worst at once, doing some mental arithmetic — he seems to be almost eight feet tall, and preportionately large everywhere — but he directs you to a (slightly stained) sofa and throws a blanket at you. He doesn’t trust the other serfs, he says, not to have a go on you. You flush, assure him that none of them have even hinted at it, and he looks surprised. Normally the older servants go straight for the pretty new girls.

Congratulations, you’re now Sevatar’s personal serf. It’s a fairly easy job, all things considered. No heavy lifting (he can take his own armour off) and no caring for human hides (he can tan his own cloak, thank you very much). On your first day polish his armour obsessively, because you don’t have much else to do. He asks you why you have repainted his pauldrons and you have to — gently — say that no, that’s just the colour they go when they are clean. He has you prepare food for his crows, and you learn that they are his, and in no danger from anyone. No one will touch them, because they know better than to incur Sevatar’s wrath.

On the second night, he comes back late from a meeting with his father, with a face like a thunderhead. Blood drips from his eyes, and his face is twisted in bestial agony. You want nothing more than to cringe and sob, but you think of the crows — of how merciless they are to their prey, and how mewling only proves that you are something to be devoured. Instead you greet him, and ask if you can help. He shows his teeth, but lets you stroke his hair, and rub his temples, and although he doesn’t go so far as to fall asleep in your lap he visibly relaxes, his breathing evening out. You ask if that is all he needs of you, and he says no, and bids you remove your clothes.

It’s not unexpected, and not completely unpleasant — though it is painful. Sevatar is large, and although he does try to open you up on his fingers — using his own armour oil as lubricant — he soon loses patience and pushes himself inside. You grit your teeth against a wail of pain as his cock bullies past tight walls, his breath humid in your ear. He takes you from behind, mantling you like a great bird of prey. He tells you how good you feel, how tight and sweet, and you feel him smirk into your nape when you start to cry. You do cum before he does, driven there almost out of self defence, your whole body one taut nerve. He follows you over the edge, spilling inside and remaining there as his hearts thunder against your back.

The next day, he tattoos you with a mix of his blood and ink, across your abdomen and down your leg. The tattoo takes far longer to heal than it should, because he can’t seem to stop licking at it — but it is the closest you can get to safe here, and for that you are thankful.

[angelofsmalldeaath]

unknown / nth — a.h.b.

cw: this is more author's note but this is sort of an au to what i usually write, an au in which reader and andrew have been divorced for a year but still live in the same town

“is this seat taken?” a familiar voice takes me out of my spiral of thoughts. i look up at him—a face i haven’t seen in close to a year. he smiles, toying a little with the ring on his little finger. 

a small curl escapes his bun. he looks like he’s just stepped out—grey jumper, black jeans, black converse. i stare for longer than i should, a little taken aback. 

“you still come here,” the surprise in my voice is clear, palpable. 

he smiles, eyes crinkling in a way that reminds me of all the times i’d traced my fingers over it. “whenever i’m back home, yes.”

home. yes. it saddens me a little that it’s a luxury for him most days. 

“you never answered my question, darling,” he lingers near my table, hip bumping into the chair opposite mine. 

“you still call me that,” i smile like it’s a secret between us. 

he returns my smile, and when i don’t object to it, settles into the chair opposite mine. 

“what are you having?”

“mocha with enough caramel in it to make you shudder.” i give my drink another swirl, subtly inhaling the scent of caramel wafting from it. “too sweet for you.”

he simply stares at the drink first, then at me, playing with the ring on his finger again. 

“what?”

he shrugs, turning around to signal for a barista. “‘s nice being known is all.”

i take a sip of my coffee, the sweetness melting over my tongue while he places his order. (coffee. black.) 

“why are you here?” the question is a little blunt. inwardly, i wince. perhaps i shouldn’t come across so hostile outright. 

“saw you from that window, thought i’d come in and say hi.”

i scrutinise him a little. he’s older now, a little tired with crow’s feet around his eyes. the lines on his face look deeper than the last time i’d seen him. his eyes look a little flat too, although i decide to chalk that up to post-tour exhaustion. 

“that’s all?”

he nods, “that’s all.”

in spite of myself, there’s a small pang in my chest. 

“you’ve been…well?” i cringe a little the moment it leaves my mouth. the question sounds so formal and and painfully awkward—like talking to a skittish animal. 

“sure,” he nods, turning to thank the barista who arrives with his coffee just then. steam wafts from the dark liquid. i already know just how bitter it will taste compared to my sweet drink. and still i smile when he takes a sip and sighs. “i’ve travelled the world and—”

“—haven’t found coffee as good as this,” i finish his sentence, smiling, cheesing at his dramatics. “you always say that. it’s just black coffee. not the hardest thing in the world to make.”

he brightens a little, shaking his head at me in mock disapproval. the silence that settles over us after is much kinder, friendlier. he sips on his drink and i take the time to watch him—a strand or two of grey in his hair now, his beard’s a bit longer too. it suits him better like this, so much so that i almost reach out and touch, thinking better of it at the last moment. 

something else catches my eye then, the ring on his little finger, closer to me now. glinting in the sunlight. 

“you’re wearing my ring,” i point out. he looks down at his hand and then back up at me. the smile on his face turns crooked. 

“you left it on my dining table, so that makes it mine now. besides,” he points a finger at me, eyes softening a little, “you’re wearing my jumper.”

i gasp, look down at myself. “i hadn’t…i’m so…”

“‘s alright,” he takes another sip of his coffee, “i bought it so you could steal it anyway.”

a strange sort of warmth settles into my bones. when i pick up my mug again, it’s empty, its contents already consumed. his smile turns a little sad. 

“do you need to go?” the plea in his voice squeezes like a fist around my heart. but my phone blinks at me, a messenger of father time. 

“i do, i…” i swallow, gathering my bag in my arms, “it was lovely seeing you, angel.”

his eyes twinkle, much like mine had before. “you still call me that too…”

“old habits,” i shrug. then i stand, lifting my hand up into an awkward wave. 

but i linger. unable to simply just… go. 

“will you at least text me when you get home safely?” he asks, voice a little hoarse then, and fidgets with his ring again, something i’ve now realised is an anxious habit. i stare at his hands a little longer than necessary—beautiful, familiar hands, hands that held mine and traced shapes on my body and showed me stars. 

home, i think to myself, some cold, expensive flat in the complete opposite side of town. white and beige, full of flat, steely surfaces and perfectly made beds. just one toothbrush in the bathroom, though, just one towel. 

“i’ll text you when i get back home,” i nod. it’s not illegal for exes to care about each other’s basic safety, is it? 

“and will you?” he raises an eyebrow, “go home?”

so this is what it has come to… thinly veiled questions that mean something else entirely, and none of us can bring ourselves to say what we really want to. 

“i will,” i smile at him one last time, finally taking a step towards the door, “i’ll find my way home eventually. someday.”

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

It’s one in the morning let’s talk Six of Crows analysis - it feels like it’s been ages since I did any analysis, which is like the entire point of this account so sorry about that but here we go: We should talk more about Adem Bajan you guys okay because first of all he effectively comes to represent the vast majority of everyday people in a clear juxtaposition to both Inej and Van Eck, but he also is in a position of far less choice than I think we give him credit for.

As a reminder, Bajan is a young Suli boy (presumably somewhere around 19 but we have no confirmation of that) working in the Van Eck household teaching Alys music. He is highly implied to be having or to have interest in having as affair with Alys, and was Van Eck’s chosen jailer for Inej at the beginning of Crooked Kingdom. Van Eck claims he made this choice because he thought “a Suli boy would be most conspicuous” when he was attempting to lure Kaz into a trap to save Inej, but it was also an inarguably smart decision in that, as Inej even comments herself, Bajan was easy to talk to, made her feel nostalgic, homesick, and alone, and very nearly succeeded in drawing information out of her without having to restore to torture. If anything, resorting to torture was Van Eck’s major mistake at this point but that’s really a conversation for another time. Bajan is a really interesting character because he doesn’t want to hurt Inej and specifically encourages her to tell him things so Van Eck won’t escalate things further, but when Van Eck does escalate things Bajan is unable - or possibly unwilling - to stop him. For this Inej calls him a monster, and when he claims he did nothing replies “no, you’re the man who stands idly by congratulating himself whilst the monster eats its fill”. She draws a Suli phrase on him that effectively means he’ll be rejected by the community forever and his spirit/soul won’t be accepted, and she describes it as the worst fate or something along those lines sorry I can’t remember exactly. But what’s the most interesting thing is that even though he claims not to believe in any of it Bajan gets noticeably upset by this and says “that’s not fair”. Inej is surprised that he’s this soft, and there’s a very clear juxtaposition between the lives they have lived.

BUT - let’s look at this from Bajan’s perspective. And remember - this is important - Bajan is not described as an employee of Van Eck’s, but an indenture. An indenture. So Bajan is a young boy indentured in a foreign country to a man as high up in the country’s government as you can get and who has clearly been illustrated to the reader as a terrible person on several different levels that I won’t dissect in too much detail right now. He appears to have acclimatised himself to Kerch surroundings and acts with elevation above his status, because that’s what he has to do to survive in the upper echelon of a deeply classist society that actively diminishes and disapproves of his culture. (<<if anyone wants references for that let me know and also I’ve written about it quite a bit before so that’s kicking around on my page somewhere) He refuses to speak to Inej in Suli because “it makes me maudlin” and my question to you is: is he rejecting the language to further attempt to fit in and as a product of internalised prejudice, or because it’s so incredibly painful to be half-connected to a culture not only that he has forced himself to reject but also that he feels he can never safely return to? Probably both. He tells Inej he doesn’t believe in Suli superstition, religion, or culture, and yet is deeply upset when she uses it against him. Is this because he actually does believe, or wants to believe, in the Saints and the Suli interpretation of them but has rejected them for survival and the supposed betterment of himself? Possibly.

Bajan strikes me as very similar to Jesper in the way he presents himself as free, flirty, and casual, but had a considerable weight to almost everything he says and considerable pain hidden closer to the surface than he may have realised. I think there are parallels between him and Inej if we want to see them, but also a very stark difference in the way Kerch and Ketterdam have treated them. Bajan may not be privileged but even as an indenture he has - or at least as far as we know has had - a far safer and kinder experience than Inej has. This could be related to gender since the hyper-sexualisation of Suli culture is mostly centred on women - “the Menagerie always stocked a Suli girl” (I’ve intensely analysis this quote before so I won’t now but ugh there’s so much to say) - but we do know there are young boys captive at the pleasure houses as well although less commonly and it’s also possible that this difference is linked to Bajan’s decision to turn his back on Suli culture in order to appeal more to Kerch society whilst Inej continually embraced her culture and arguably became more religious in response to her experiences.

This is complicated because I’m not entirely sure how I feel about Bajan. I understand and support Inej’s perspective and everything she saw whilst in a far more dangerous position that he was, but is it possible that this was a lonely boy who saw someone he thought was like him and tried to communicate with her the only way he thought was safe? You are completely isolated in a foreign culture and hate yourself for having suppressed your own upbringing in order to survive, but now you meet someone else who yes, is in more danger than you, but who you might be able to help so that she can help you in return. You aren’t safe to speak freely and so you subtly tell her that you are an indenture, hoping she acknowledges that none of this is of your free will and because you know that she was indentured too (and remember from a societal pov there is very little understanding of what indentured girls at the pleasure houses actually go through and although that doesn’t excuse ignoring Inej’s trauma it may explain why he doesn’t fully acknowledge that their positions aren’t equal), you tell her that speaking your own shared language makes you feel maudlin, hoping she realises that you desperately miss your homeland and using your language makes you feel even further from your family than you already are because you can’t share it with them. She doesn’t seem to be taking any of it in, your employer has every intention of hurting her and you don’t know what else to do, so you make a last plea: you ask her about home. You think you’ve already made it clear that speaking about home is painful, so you ask her about it to invite that pain, to share it, so you both understand. But it fails, because she only sees your employer puppeteering you. You openly beg her to tell him the truth so that he won’t hurt her but she refuses to comply, and after all of your efforts and your desperate attempts to connect and beg her to help you both go home, her response is to turn your home against you and banish you from it for eternity. So when you see her the next morning, how could you possibly look her in the eye?

Bajan did not make all of the right choices in his brief time on the page. He didn’t. But maybe he was trying really hard, and he had no other options left.

Anyway I’m not saying this is definitive one way or the other it’s just an interpretation but I find him a very interesting and very sad character and I although I support all of Inej’s actions in these scenes from her point of view I do find myself wondering how she appeared to Bajan and how he felt in the aftermath.