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xo2dee · 1 year ago

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🗨️ LAMBENT

PAIRING: Sukuna/(Fem)Reader. WARNINGS: True Form!Sukuna, Pregnant!Reader, Heian Era Customs, Pregnancy, Mentions of Cannibalism, Sukuna being an asshole (what do you expect). WORD COUNT: 3,767. SUMMARY: Carrying the King's of Curses child, you knew wouldn't be easy, but you were more than happy to have a baby of your own. Even if said baby was growing rapidly while being the source of your bad back and changing appetite.

A/N: sukuna fluff is hard to come by in my opinion and so sorry if he's ooc but i wanted him like this. also, this is for lemon and ava, two of my favorite sukuna babes 🤍

JJK MASTERLIST

Wrist flicking out, you fanned yourself, eyes heavy with the sleep you had been fighting as you pursed your lips and eyed the blooming trees of the garden. Spring was rounding itself off, the scorching weather approaching you knew in weeks as you could only prepare yourself to be practically bedridden due to your ‘condition’. You’d only arrived a year and a half prior, and you quickly realized you had not seen much of the palace still after taking a husband, be it due to the duties of a noble person who were bound to spend most their days inside and entertaining themselves another way.

You held back a snort, fanning yourself harder as you stopped and eyed a nearby bush full of bright fruit and as red as your husband’s eyes.

…Husband.

In your youth, you supposed the daydreams of living in nobility were only achievable through luck. Or perhaps told through a fortune told from the Omikuji you required as a teen, taking the fortunes of ‘blessing’ and ‘marriage’ with a grain of salt until you had grown into an adult and ran off to be elsewhere from the clutches on an arranged marriage. Into serving nobility, to becoming nobility wasn’t necessarily on your list, your marriage by all means was an unlawful one. Forged from blood and flesh when you remembered instead of sipping sake in front of the Gods, your husband-to-be curled his fingers around your wrist and bit into your palm to instead partake in you.

You had been enamored by him since you first met him, eyes memorizing every inch of his unusual face before taking his thumb into your mouth when he smeared his own blood across your lips. It had sealed your fate that moment, your love and lust for him bursting forth like a raging inferno then and during the commutation of your marriage. Something that had finally taken into effect and was weighing down on you heavily.

One you supposed was the reason for the wariness when it came to serving you.

Cutting your eyes to the side and slightly behind you, you held the sigh in, your attendant keeping her eyes on the ground (perhaps watching your feet when you walked) as to shield her pensive expression from you, however you were not the unobservant type and focused on the knot between her eyebrows. Mai, your first and most loyal attendant, was never one to shy away from pestering over you, speaking her mind and filling in for advice whenever you needed it, so to see her quiet and on edge grated your nerves more than you liked to admit. She had been your first friend when you arrived, and you absolutely despised when she reverted back into the meek and submissive attendant she played whenever your husband was around, and it was enough to make you frown and worry if you had done something wrong.

You sighed loudly, snapping your fan shut and turning to the woman slowly, “You look like you have something you want to say.”

Mai’s eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, long and curled as her doe-like eyes rose to meet yours. She seemed to mull over your statement, before bowing her head in submission and speaking quietly, “Permission to speak?”

A smile graced your lips, softening your expression and nodding to her in return, “You always have permission with me, Mai.”

And just like that, Mai’s entire attitude flipped at your nonchalance. Straightening herself up, she dropped the service act and eyed you with suspicion and wary, mixed in with tired disappointment at having to cater to your more… reckless wants. “It’s just that Lord Sukuna has told us to monitor you and keep you in the palace when he’s away. And you’ve disobeyed that… again.”

Ah, there it was. With a scowl threatening to mar your face, you turned your back to her and began to pick through the strawberries in the bush you had been eyeing before, “I’m in the gardens. That’s still the palace… Is it not?”

“Yes, but –”

“This one looks ripe…” you cut her off, not necessarily wanting to hear her prattle on about how your husband made it horrifyingly clearly that you were to say inside at all times when he wasn’t at the palace. You’d heard it all before so many times it had been practically engraved into your skull with ink, and you were fed up with sitting on your knees inside away from the outside world and learning calligraphy constantly. Lips downturned you plopped a good-looking strawberry into your mouth, humming at the juice and tangy sweetness that exploded upon your taste buds, before your stomach gave an abrupt twist and a foot kicked out against your ribs. You winced and rubbed at your belly while the fruit suddenly tasted foul, and you swallowed with a grimace, “I hate how hungry I get nowadays, especially when I seem to crave more than just human food.”

Mai had been watching you like a hawk, leaning forward to intercept you whenever you reached for another fruit, “Oh, let me get it for you –”

“Please, Mai, I can pick my own strawberries. You worry too much.” Batting her hand away, you plucked it, hiding it in your sleeve and turning to her with an exhausted smile as she took your fan from you.

“Yes, My Lady. But please consider my words, we can keep you entertained in the palace.” You watched the lines on her face carefully, creased at her eyes and wrinkles forming at her forehead, and you could only wonder if your pregnancy had been the cause of her newly formed stress (partly, you knew you could’ve blamed it on your husband, his aggressive and aloof behavior all in one keeping most of the servants on the tips of their toes, but you quickly squashed it whenever you remembered she tended to you entirely).

Of course, you knew she was only doing her job, however her job was also giving you a severe case of claustrophobia being cooped up inside all the time. It wasn’t like you were planning to ever leave the palace’s premises either, just small strolls in the garden or spending time by the pond to cool off. Honestly, you had reason to believe she and your husband were just worrywarts (yet for the latter, you would keep that strictly to yourself).

You nodded your head in the direction you wanted to go, signaling Mai to walk beside you as you sighed and lowered your voice, “The midwife told me exercise will help…” you caressed your palm over your protruding stomach, “The baby is already huge and only seems to keep growing. A little sun helps me too, Mai… I can’t stay cooped up forever.”

Mai took a few moments to respond, her shoulders relaxing and her voice regaining familiarity, “I’m only worried since the last time you fainted out here.”

Lips thinning outwards, you remembered it all too well. Not necessarily fainting, though you blamed it on the many layers you wore around the palace and how warm it was getting outside, but you remembered the aftermath and how your husband had all but slaughtered a few lowly servants in retaliation as to letting you out (and because of his temper). You had thought the gore would’ve had you running, but you’d grown so used to him murdering someone whenever they slightly pissed him off you could only sigh at the thoughts. Of course, you knew Mai’s worry also came out of fear, however you weren’t about to let him do anything to her. “I know, but I feel fine… Just swollen feet and my back aching every time I move.”

And the baby kicking at your body whenever something displeased him.

Mai sighed your name exasperatingly, dropping the formalities, “Please, given your condition I think it’s best if you return to the palace.”

Irritation began to seep in your muscles, your baby moving in response to your emotions as your feet marched faster to walk. If you wanted to walk around the garden, you were allowed to, you would deal with your husband later if he found out. “What my husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him… Just another stroll and we can go back in, I’m getting tired anyways.”

“My Lady – oh!”

Mai abruptly skidded to a halt, body bending quickly into a low enough bow for the towering sight of your husband appearing before you both. You spared her a quick glance, flickering back to your husband, Lord Sukuna, when you realized he wasn’t the least bit concerned over her. He kept all four eyes on you, a challenging glare in them and you nearly wanted to laugh at the sight of two of his arms crossed and the other two planted on his hips. He looked every part of a disappointed husband – a father in the making, and you could already feel the talking your ear was going to get. Ah well, you could always feign falling asleep on him, that seemed to always make him softer.

Bending slightly into your own bow, he spoke, addressing Mai with a singular command, “Leave,” and you only returned back to your own height whenever you peeked that she was gone. You held back the groan at the pull your spine gave, wincing slightly at the shine of the sun before his large form eclipsed it as he finally moved close to you with no one in sight. The familiarity of his warmth and scent eased some of your irritability, wondering why he was back to early and ecstatic that he came to look for you once he couldn’t find you.

You smiled up at him, rolling the strawberry around your fingers before gesturing with your head to the path you had been walking, “Walk with me?”

Sukuna was ever-so unwavering in his staring, watching you practically dawdle in your place with the world’s most unamused expression, “Weren’t you told to stay inside?”

You repressed a shudder at his rough voice as your skin prickled, another sigh leaving while your shoulders slumped; caught. “I might remember you telling me that.” He seemed to not be in the mood for your sweettalking.

A loud exhale made your smile turn sheepish. “You piss me off.”

You knew that was coming, pulling out your hand from the sleeve to produce the strawberry from before, letting his eyes follow the way you rolled it into your palm, “But you’re here now… Nothing could really happen now since I have you.”

Sukuna’s eyebrow furrowed, eyes narrowing inward before he scowled at you enough to let his upper lip slightly curve over his teeth, “Changing the subject won’t help you. Are you gonna walk back, or do I have to carry your ass and –"

In a bold move you silenced him, pressing the strawberry to his lips with two fingers and slightly pushing it forward in hopes he would eat it. His eyes couldn’t narrow or glare any further, shooting from you to the fruit, and holding them there for a few moments and you wanted to giggle because it nearly looked like he pouting. Your husband never really ate human food, perhaps to humor you before he would spit it out and complain about the horrid taste it gave him, however there were a few times his interest would peak and want a bite of whatever you had in your hand – especially when said food seemed to satisfy you so much. You supposed it was his curiosity to understand you better, having a human in such close quarters and as a wife was perhaps as jarring as it was to have him as your husband.

Toying with him, you said, “It gave me bad taste earlier… Want to try it?”

Sukuna’s lips twitched behind the fruit, a clear sign he’d indulge you that time and when you went to move your hand away from him, one of his hand snatched your wrist with a small squeeze. An unspoken word for you to leave your fingers on the fruit and indulge him. And you did so with coquettish blink, pressing the strawberry harder against his lips until they gave way and his teeth were biting into it with the juice from inside sliding down your fingers as he slowly and sensually ate the strawberry from your fingertips. It didn’t help that he kept his eyes on your own the whole time, your cheeks burning as you never were able to get used to your husband’s forward assertion on sensuality.

Your breath caught and eyes widened when his tongue slid over the length of your fingers before slipping in his mouth and sucking on them until they were free of any residue stickiness. You couldn’t help the rapid beat of your heart, lips parting as his thumb tapped in rhythm to your pulse point before he let go of your fingers with a loud ‘plop!’ and a satisfied hum rumbling out of him as you could only gaze dumbfounded at the saliva coating your fingers. After a few moments you cleared your throat and swallowed, eyeing him warily as you knew his stomach probably wouldn’t last long and he’d be hacking it up with loud complaining.

And on cue, you watched fascinated as the mouth on his stomach frowned.

Oh, here it comes. It never lasted long in his system.

You sighed as he spat it out, licking his lips and scowling at the ground, “You’re right, tastes like shit.”

“Would you like me to say something to the servants?” you asked, mentally cheering with a soft smile on your face when he fell into step with you to walk along the gardens. It was never hard to get what you wanted out of him.

“It’s not poor gardening skills, it’s you.” You opened your mouth, ready to backtalk at the insult, yet he silenced you with a hand raised before one of his fingers traced along your cheek, “Weren’t you waddling in and practically whining for some of my food?”

How could you forget, a week ago you’d been lured out of your bed chamber by the most mouthwatering smell and your baby kicking incessantly once your stomach growled. You had stumbled upon Sukuna and Uruame, the latter making Sukuna’s dinner and the dinner something you never were to partake in since his appetite did not quell your hunger. However, when you found yourself salivating with your stomach rumbling and your baby kicking, it was a jarring experience to come to realize you were indulging in cannibalism and liked it. Liked it so much your child never rolled in a fit that night and Sukuna had been extra attentive to you afterwards with his praising.

An answer was on your tongue, though you chose to neglect saying anything when your taste buds twitched at the thought of that dinner and instead enjoyed your walk in peace. Your husband only snorted, a slight laugh leaving him at your pout before he returned his limbs to himself and rolled his gaze forwards on the path you’d been on. Times with him were normally relaxing as he was actually rather lazy when he had nothing to do, his affections ranging from just enjoying your presence in silence to twirling your hair around his finger whenever you were close enough. You never minded, glad to spend time with him though it was equally as nice whenever he seemed get even clingier once finding out you were pregnant.

Even his soft, lingering touches moments ago set your heart ablaze, and you wondered if he felt the same whenever you ran your fingers through his hair whenever he felt like resting his head in your lap.

Minutes into your relaxing walk you felt it, an agonizing cramp pulsing in your back and the soles of your feet screaming in protest at being mobile for too long. Of course, you get some time to do something with him and your body halts that and screams at you to stop. You didn’t want to say anything, not wanting to bother him nor ruin the peaceful moment you were so grateful to have. Although the pain in your body had other plans, cramping upwards and throbbing whenever you tried to take another step so much you immediately had to double over with one hand resting on your stomach.

You stopped, the other hand moving to hold your aching back, and you were vaguely surprised he stopped at the same time. A wince and awkward bouts of silence later, you groaned and straightened back up, “I’m sorry, I think it gets worse every day.”

Sukuna remained silent and still, before a rumbling from his chest prickled the hair on the nape of your neck. “Hm, almost like you should’ve listened to me.” He was back in that disappointed husband stance, and you knew if you were to look into his face you’d see the smug grin at your misfortune. Gritting your teeth you didn’t give him the satisfaction, watching glumly as he sighed rather loudly and moved away from your side to continue walking in the direction of this palace.

You reaped what you sowed you supposed, having to walk back alone after being told not to be out of the palace when he wasn’t there. And your body complaints for moving about too much agreed, a quiet moan of frustration leaving you as you closed your eyes and counted to ten to calm your nerves, reopening them when the pain muted itself into a dull ache for the time. However, you completely clammed up at the sight of your husband bent down in front of you, the black of his haori draped over his shoulders shielding your view of his sculpted back and his face turned forward giving you no indication of what he was doing.

Yet, he did seem like he said something, though you were too befuddled to even understand what he had said.

“What –”

“Are you deaf?” he interrupted, turning his head slightly and motioning with his head from you to climb onto him, “I said get on, before I change my mind.”

He wanted you… to ride… on his back? Never once did he ever engage in something like that with you (besides carrying you in his arms, but that had been the night of your wedding and he’d practically tossed you on your beds afterwards), though you weren’t about to pass by the chance for him to carry you. Though you weren’t too sure how to climb on his back and hold on so heavily pregnant, Sukuna didn’t have four arms for nothing you supposed.

Not wanting him to change his mind and keep him waiting, you clambered onto him to best you could dressed in several layers with your legs kicking free to slip underneath the lower set of his arms. You held back a squeal when your baby kicked at all the movements, arms flying forward to nearly constrict Sukuna’s airway off as he in return grunted and stood to his full height while beginning to move forward in a slow pace. You were grateful he was taking it slow, still trying to get comfortable and trying not to think about how bad it would hurt to fall off his back from his enormous height…

“Stop fucking squirming…” he grunted again, readjusting you with his arms as your body reclined higher up on his back and he continued walking, “Acting like I’ve never touched you before.”

“It’s not that. He – “ you cut yourself off, you hadn’t necessarily told him that you believed your baby was a boy, and you didn’t want to hear any of his teasing, “the baby kicks and squirms whenever I move too much.” Or whenever he hears your voice, you groused, further proving your point when he kicked at you again whenever Sukuna spoke once more. You wondered if he could feel the kick on his back.

“Damn.” A pause of silence and Sukuna was jostling you on his back, “How much does that prick weigh? Or is that all you?”

Your hand itched to slap the back of his neck, though you held yourself together and only offered him a scoff while making yourself comfortable, “He takes after his father.”

“And he wiggles like a worm, just like his mother.”

You had half a mind to say something about him referring to your child as a boy, your cheeks hot when you rested your chin atop his shoulder and eyes growing lidded with sleep while he inadvertently rocked you with his steps. You bit the inside of your cheek in a girlish thought that your husband was walking slower on purpose, rolling your ankles to stop you from kicking your feet at the idea he wanted to spend more time with you alone. Then again, he was doing all of it for you when he could’ve just left you alone, or not come out to find you at all.

Maybe some days he missed you as much as you missed him.

In a bold declaration, you pushed yourself forward until your nose was skimming Sukuna’s cheek, a chaste kissed you placed there seconds later whenever he didn’t say or do anything to push you away, “Thank you, my Lord.”

Sukuna hummed low in his throat, a deep rumbling that vibrated against your arms and soothed your aching ribs, “Don’t get used to it. I just didn’t want to wait around for your slow ass to waddle back in.” Though he sounded rather harsh, you knew he was just doing roundabout affection in his own way.

Your head lolled against his, the leaves on the trees above swaying you into a warm midday nap the longer you watched them through your eyelashes, “Take me to bed?”

You didn’t necessarily hear his response, though you weren’t dreaming it when his fingers tightened the hold he had on your thighs, the warmth he emitted doing wonders for the pains in your body as he secured you further into his back to ensure you didn’t fall off. You couldn’t help the smile, your cheek smushed into his shoulder as you took one final look at the sunlight path before you both and closed your eyes as exhaustion took its hold over.

With a last conscious thought, you reminded yourself to thank Mai later for allowing you a nice stroll in the garden – especially when you were doing it with your family.

#{🩸} nee fics #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk sukuna #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader

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fluoneia · 6 months ago

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further continuation of pitfighter!vi | part 1 | part 2

sypnosis. vi left an impression on you more then you thought she did. but, you left even more of an impression on her. and you can’t control a feeling like that, can you?

warnings. dom!vi, lowkey hate sex, use of a strap on, lots o angst !! (in the beginning), uhh i tweaked the timeline a lot so this doesn’t exactly follow everything going on. bear w me!

damn.

you were surprised vi stayed true to her word. it was two months since she initially left. you tried to move on with your life, forget her, and try to remember that she was with that someone that she mentioned.

if she stayed, that means she’s happy. right?

right?

stupid feelings. truth was, you wanted her to come back. she wasn’t just any other client to you at this point.

god, how did you get yourself into this mess? you vowed to not get involved with a client. yet, here you were.

“you seem distracted.” your friend, and co-worker says while she combs through your hair. you’d gotten close to her over the past two months, her being your only viable source of comfort in the moment.

you frown as you look into the mirror.

“it’s nothing.” you shake your hand, glancing down to your hands.

“are you sure?” asta cocked a brow as she placed the comb down. “come on. you’re acting so weird lately.”

you run your thumb over the indents of your palm, following your fingers.

“well..” you start, “i.. there was a client. around two months ago. she was..” you snort, “different, that’s for sure.”

“.. okay..” asta looks into space as she thought.

“she told me she wasn’t coming back— that she couldn’t. her heart was taken by this enforcer girl. said she couldn’t give her up.”

asta is quiet for a second. you turn to look at her. “.. so, what i’m getting from this, is you’re getting your heart involved in a client you took twice.”

“what?” your back straightens. “no! no, my heart isn’t involved, i’m just.. curious. that’s all.”

“uh-huh, okay.” asta snorts with a roll of her eye. “who is this, anyway?”

“oh, uh.. her name is vi.”

asta’s eyes widen so far her eyebrows shoot up. “the fucking vi? as in the vi everyone here hates?”

“i guess so.” you frown.

“hah! no way you’re falling for that little sadistic fuck.”

“asta!” i cry.

“i mean, seriously, y/n! she’s no good, especially for you.”

“i’m a whore in the undercity. i’m not exactly amazing.”

“still, though. i can’t believe you wound up having to take her as a client twice, i mean, are you alright after that?”

you glare. then, you smile at the memory. “actually..” you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. “you’d be surprised. it’s not just her that got to take control.”

“you.. vi? being submissive? oh, you’re crazy.”

“crazy good.” you snort, pushing off your chair. “besides, i’m not falling for her.”

“yeah. sure you aren’t.”

“i mean, i can’t, anyways. i’ve already made that mistake before and i’m not about to make it again. my heart is never being involved with my clients ever again.”

asta takes a second to respond. then, she says, “you know, sometimes it isn’t all that bad.” she shrugs. “i met my husband through this business.”

“it does more harm then good. plus, aren’t you two having problems because of the job that you met in?”

“well.. kind of. but still.” she places a hand on my shoulder, “not everything in your life has to be dictated because of what you do as a job to survive. it’s rare you feel a connection with your clients, right? especially you.”

“i don’t have a connection with her.”

“you keep telling yourself that.” asta chuckles, “that’s what i said about my husband before he started courting me.”

“whatever!” i cry, pushing her hand off me. “i have a client.”

“don’t go imaging it’s vi!”

“ugh, shut up asta!”

a week later, you’d made up your mind. obviously, vi wasn’t going to come back. it’d be best for you to just move on.

your hands tighten around eachother.

so damn stupid. you were so damn stupid. your feelings were so damn stupid— she went to you out of convenience, nothing more.

she was under the influence, on a sex drug nonetheless. you went too far with her. you never should have given in to her pleads in the first place.

“come on, slow-poke.”

you still.

“slow-poke is a bit cocky for you to say. i recall you saying i was moving too fast, when i tried to—“

“okay, are we seriously talking about that right now?”

you’d recognize that voice anywhere. it was haunting your thoughts for the past two months.

and you don’t dare lift your head. you feel your breath pick up as you glance forward.

your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on her. on vi. what the hell was she doing here?

without another thought, you flick your hood over your head. your body curls in on yourself, staring at your feet as you walk forward, moving past her.

“you used to be all over me,” a posh, matter-of-fact voice says. “now, you can barely even look at me.”

“we’re on a mission, caitlyn. we’re not talking about our relationship right now.”

her voice becomes louder as you grow near.

“when will we?”

“soon! just.. just not now.” vi grumbled.

you try to ignore the warmth in your skin as you knock shoulders with her as you pass.

“hey! watch where you’re going—“

vi stops herself as you glance over your shoulder.

you watch as her eyes flicker, the redness seeping into her skin as she flushed.

“wha.. y/n?” she says in almost a whisper.

your eyes glide toward the girl beside her. a pretty woman, with sharp features and rich, navy hair, tied into a ponytail. she held herself so well.

no wonder vi was so enveloped in her.

vi feels like her heart is about to burst out of her chest. she glances toward caitlyn, who gives you a weird look as you stare at her.

what. the. fuck.

that’s all vi can think.

her eyes flicker between you and caitlyn.

vi watched as you slip the hood off your head. you bring your head up with an inhale, forcing a strong front.

“.. hey, vi. funny seeing you here.” you say in that soft tone that’s been haunting her thoughts and her dreams for months since you’ve been apart.

“you know this girl?” caitlyn says as she stares at you. you glance toward caitlyn, brows furrowing. she stared at you like you were filth— and you probably were, body being tainted by the hundreds of hands that have touched the most vulnerable of all— your body.

vi swallows. “yea.. yes, um—“ she closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “old friend.”

old friend? really?

you glare at her.

“can i, um.. can i have a second to talk to her? alone?”

vi’s hand rests on caitlyns shoulder. her skin looked so soft— so clean.

you try to ignore the flame of jealousy in your chest as caitlyn’s hand rests atop of vi’s, before nodding her head once.

“don’t take long.” caitlyn lets her hands drop to her sides. vi gives a small nod, shoulders relaxing as caitlyn steps back, moving out of earshot.

and then she turns to you.

“i thought you said you were never coming back.” you frown as your arms cross on your chest.

“this isn’t me coming back.” vi says curtly. “we’re on a mission.”

“a mission? are you some sort of enforcer now?”

vi says nothing.

you freeze.

“you.. you’re an enforcer.”

“temporarily.” vi raises a hand, “it’s not anything to do with—“

“just go.” you spit. “an enforcer from zaun. it’s not an honour to be labelled that, violet. you’re a pawn in whatever plan they’ve conjured up.”

“it’s a plan to help zaun.” vi says in a whisper as she glances at someone passing. she winced. “can we talk about this elsewhere? preferably not in an open alleyway?”

your eyes shift to the caitlyn girl she treasures so much. she’s staring at the two of you.

“or we could just not talk.” you push off the wall you’d been resting on, “continue on with your mission. you have no use of me, by the looks of it.”

“actually, i do. someone we’re looking for passed through babettes brothel, and we need a—“

“i’m not helping you with this.” you shake your head. “find another worker there to interrogate.”

“y/n.” vi says firmly.

“stop saying my name like that.” you narrow your eyes. “just because you were my client doesn’t entitle me to help you with your stupid investigation. you were a client to many there— ask them.”

“i was more then just a client and you know it.”

her face tightens with anger.

“not really,” you tut your tongue, “you paid, and i gave. nothing more.”

“you can’t be serious.” her hand finds your arm, and she leans closer, glancing around. “you took my virginity. that’s not nothing.”

“you were hardly a virgin when we first met.”

“yeah, not in.. that sense, i wasn’t.”

you hated that she was right. virginity was a prized thing for most people— hell, you used to hold principles like saving your virginity for marriage. and now, look where you were.

but, much like other people, you never forgot your first. a boy from piltover— you were young and naive, much like violet.

“i should have never done that.” you shake your head, “that was too far of me.”

vi’s eyes soften. she glances back at caitlyn, before looking to you. she steers you away, moving out of eyeshot.

“it’s not that i.. regret it. if that makes any difference.”

you huff.

“you said you weren’t coming back. yet, here you are.” you gesture.

“for a different reason.” she tightens her grip on my arm, “come on. help me with this investigation and i’ll leave you alone. for good.”

but that isn’t what you wanted. you didn’t want her to leave— you didn’t want her to be her right now, with her new prized girlfriend, but she was still here. you hated how your heart jumped with glee at that fact.

you inhale a deep breath, clenching your jaw.

“fine. i’ll help you.”

vi exhaled in relief. “thank you.” she whispers. her hand loosens on your shoulder, before slowly slipping off, her fingers trailing over your skin.

“what’s the big deal, anyways?” you furrow my brows.

“cait will tell you everything.” she cocks her head behind her. you nod your head, and follow her as you walk back to caitlyn. it hit you that she was tall, and it made her even more menacing— towering over you with a mean look on her face. you couldn’t tell if that was just her face, or she just didn’t like you. probably both.

“so she’ll help, then?” caitlyn says, turning to vi.

vi nods. “yeah.”

“i can’t promise i’ll actually be of help to you.” you cross my arms on your chest. “just because i agreed to tell you what i know doesn’t mean it’ll be any use.”

“worth a shot, right?” vi shrugs. i give her a brief nod.

“we can’t talk about this here.” caitlyn says.

you sigh. “we can go back to my house. it’s just ‘round the block. but again— i only have an hour.”

they give a nod of agreement. you inhale a deep breath, before paving a way back toward your house.

suddenly, you felt unconscious about your living space. you hadn’t cleaned it, and there was no doubt clothes left on the floor, leaving it a mess. you mentally curse yourself as you unlock the door, pushing it open.

“make yourselves comfortable.” you mumble, kicking some clothes out the way.

vi doesn’t take another glance at the house as she walks inside, following behind you. caitlyn hesitates, looking around the messy room, before following suit.

i grab a glass of water, jumping up onto my counter.

“alright. so, what did you need me for, exactly?” i look to caitlyn.

caitlyn slowly turns her head toward you. “oh— yes, um..” she clears her throat, obviously distracted. “a few days ago, someone passed through the brothel you work at.”

she fumbles through her bag. your eyes glance toward vi, who leans against the counter parallel to you, crossing her arms on her chest. the blue outfit just looked so.. off on her, yet, she still held herself the same.

she didn’t seem that bothered by the mess— partly because she’s seen it before, and partly because she’d already been in your house, in your bed—

stop it.

caitlyn places a sheet of paper on the island. i pick it up.

“have you seen this girl?”

your eyes move around the paper. you had seen this girl before— quite an oddball, but she was funny. blue hair, tied into long braids. your eyes train on the JINX — PILTOVER, WANTED.

“uh.. yeah.” you nod. you’d never expect her to be a wanted criminal, but who wasn’t down in the lanes?

“how? where did you see her last?” caitlyn says. there’s a gleam in her eyes as she leans closer.

“well.. maybe two or three days ago she came around the brothel during my shift. she was a client.”

vi pushes off the table abruptly. “you took my sister as a client?!” she stalks toward you.

“well, yeah.” you shrug. your eyes widen as you realize. “we.. no, she didn’t want anything.” uou chuckle at the memory, “she just wanted to talk.”

vi seems to calm down, her shoulders slouching. you give her a brief look, before turning to caitlyn.

“she.. i don’t know why she came to a brothel to just have a chat, but she isn’t the first one to do that. it’s honestly not that weird for clients to just want to talk like normal people when they have no one else.”

“i didn’t give it that much thought. i don’t remember much about her.”

you glare at vi. “not that it’d be any of your business what happens with my clients.”

vi puffs a breath of air through her nose, ripping her gaze away from you. she didn’t understand why she was so.. so jealous, so riled up over the memory that you still worked at the brothel, that you still took clients, that other people were touching you.

she had no right to be possessive, yet, here she was.

“.. anyway.” caitlyn clears her throat, brows furrowing as she senses the tension between you and vi, “what can you tell me about her? did she say anything about where she was going?”

you shake your head. “we talked for the hour she paid for, then she left. that was it. i didn’t see where she went.”

caitlyn sighs in frustration. vi looks to her, “this was a big waste of time.”

“it was the only lead we had.” caitlyn pushes off the wall. “if we ask some of the other workers, they’ll probably have seen the direction she went.”

“at this point we’ll miss the last departure. it’s too long of a walk back to piltover if we want to be safe.”

“we can’t leave while the trail is hot! if we wait another day, it’s just another night wasted.”

you h ump off the counter. “just stay here.” you place your glass in the sink, “i have a guest bedroom.”

that was a horrible idea.

it was like your mouth was on autopilot as you say this— stuck on the fact that if vi left now, you’d never see her again. it was stupid if you to offer, yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it.

caitlyn glances toward you. then to vi. she raises her eyebrows as if to say, “well?”

oh, and vi was even more stuck. seeing you again drove her crazy— much less sleeping in the same house again. no doubt it’d grab at her head, keeping her awake at the last memory in this very house.

her chest puffed as she tried to regulate her breath. she wasn’t sure if she could handle herself in such close proximity to you again. it’d surely drive her mad.

but, she too was stuck on the fact that this might be the last time she saw you.

so, vi nods. “sure.” she chokes. her voice is tight as she avoids her eyes, glancing down at her feet.

you huff at the memory of your shift.

“the guest bedroom is just down the hall. make yourselves comfortable.” you move past them, shoulder grazing with vi’s— on purpose, on accident, you couldn’t tell. “i’ll be back soon.”

you still as you see caitlyn move out of the kitchen, glancing around. once she was out of earshot, you back up a few steps.

“oh, and, vi?” you lean closer to her, moving to her ear. “try to control yourself. i can sense your tension from a mile away.” you rest your hand on vi’s shoulder. “if you want me to take care of that.. another time, yeah?”

you pull away without another word, giggling under your breath. you pat vi’s shoulder as you slip away, grabbing your coat and bringing it around your shoulders.

and as you close the door, you leave vi’s head in utter shambles again.

she stands in the same spot, mind processing your words.

try to control herself? after you’ve just said that, and you’re looking like the most beautiful women she’s laid her eyes on?

fat chance.

she’ll get you eventually.

you were released early from your shift, as the night was slow. you kind of dreaded getting back to your apartment, knowing both vi and caitlyn were there.

you wanted to help them. honestly. but you werent sure what would.

your mind recalled the memory of that jinx girl.

you remembered you tried to advance on her— assuming that’s what she wanted, like many other clients. but she stopped you.

she surely wasn’t well. rambling on about life and death, about family, and about how no one can be trusted, and all that.

and after that, she disappeared as soon as she payed. you turned to say goodbye, but she was already gone.

you huff as you open your apartment door, slipping your coat off your shoulders. you hear laughing from your living room, and walk toward it.

as you turn the corner, you see caitlyn and vi laughing together.

“vi, i’m serious!”

you linger in the background as you watch them.

“i mean, the look on my fathers face. he couldn’t believe it at first.”

“well, you won’t be able to get rid of me, anyway.”

your face tightens as you watch her place her head on caitlyns shoulder. she spins a pen in her hand.

“i’m the dirt under your nails, cupcake.”

you decide to leave it alone there.

you step back, running a hand over your neck. so she was happy. you grimace as you walk down the hall, entering your bathroom.

“stupid.” you’d whisper to yourself.

here you thought you had vi wrapped around your finger. but really, you were wrapped around hers.

asta was right, anyway. she was no good for you, and you were no good for her. she was right in the fact that your heart was involved. it was involved tenfold.

you were stupid to ever think that you and vi had a chance.

you were a whore from the undercity. she’s an enforcer now.

nonetheless, she was still from the undercity. she was still a zaunite, just like you.

you strip yourself of your clothes. you step into your steaming shower, and let the water run over your body, your hair.

you close your eyes as you try to drown out your thoughts.

it wasn’t until midnight you left your bathroom.

the house was quiet. you deemed that they had gone to sleep, and move toward your room.

you throw on one of your favourite sets— a gift from a reoccurring piltover client from when you used to work there. you loved the silk texture, the white pearly fabric.

and since you hadn’t eaten much today, you move toward your kitchen.

you huff as you walk down the hallway, quiet against the hardwood floor. you grab your glass from the sink, turning on the tap.

“y/n.” a voice says behind you. you jump, spinning around.

“oh. it’s just you.” you sigh in relief as your eyes land on the familiar black of her hair. vi sauntered toward you, leaning against the counter.

“i.. i had a question.” vi whispers. her voice is laced with sleep— she had stayed up to talk to you. alone, finally.

you stare at your hands as you pour the water down the sink, picking up a bag of pretzels. “and what’s that?”

vi bit her tongue. then, she spoke. “what did you mean, before?”

you furrow your brows.

“when you said.. if you want me to take care of that.” vi shuffles. “you said, another time.”

you still. youd forgotten youd said that— mostly to test the waters around her.

“what did you think i meant?” you hum, placing a pretzel on your tongue. you lean your hip against the counter parallel to her.

vi says nothing.

“look— if you’re gonna act clueless, whatever.” you scoff. “but don’t rope me into something that’ll just cause a mess.”

you turn away from her.

as you move, your stopped by a hand on your wrist. she yanks you backward, your back landing harshly on her chest.

you gasp.

“i don’t really care if it causes a mess.”

you feel her breath on your shoulder. her hand smooths over your hip, pulling you against her.

“you’ve been messing with me ever since we bumped into eachother in that alleyway.”

you stare harshly at the wall in front of you. her thumb dips into the fabric of your shorts, resting it there.

“and you show up in these little shorts and expect me to contain myself?”

you feel her lips against your ear.

“what’s with the sudden switch up?” you say breathily, head leaning against her shoulder.

“you know what you’re doing.” violet scoffs against your ear. you feel your skin blaze alight as she presses her lips to your neck. you feel her tongue glide across your skin.

“violet.” you say harshly. you’re not sure how you feel about the sudden change in the air— vi wasn’t the girl she was last time she was here, no, she was how she was in the brothel the first night you met.

this girl really did give you whiplash.

“this is wrong.” you say, hand placing over the hand on your hip. despite your words, you lean into her touch. “aren’t you with caitlyn?”

vi stills for a second at caitlyn’s name. “one more night can’t hurt.”

“that’s what i thought the last time we met.” you hum, leaning into her touch. “one more night.”

vi spun you around, stalking forward, pushing you back until your back hit the counter. her arms caged around you, her eyes so dark, so unrecognizable.

all night, vi had been thinking about how you’re working your shift, having other people touch you. all night, she thought about you.

all she wanted right now was to distinguish herself from the others— to prove to you that unlike all the others, she cared. she cared for your pleasure, she cared for you, despite her mind screaming at her that she shouldn’t.

another wave of jealousy washes over her. she leans closer, hands gliding over your stomach, pushing up the silk shirt.

“you remember how you said to stop thinking so much around you?” vi says with a smirk, nose touching eachothers, her lips parted. you feel her breath on your skin, her hands on your stomach. they truly did feel warm, so calming, so right, unlike the others who have touched you there. you didn’t feel violated under vi’s touch, you felt.. comforted. it gave you a chance to actually feel the pleasure of another persons hand, rather then focusing on giving pleasure.

her hand splays against your back. her lips were so close to yours, merely one movement away. you wanted nothing more then to feel them again.

“that’s what i’m doing.” vi says, voice husky. “cmon.” she gives a toothy smile. “don’t leave me hanging here, cupcake.”

and it’s like everything changed.

your face closes to a deadpan. you push her off, slamming your fists on her chest.

“wha..” vi gives you a look of confusion.

“you’re so.. arrogant!” you lower your voice as you remember caitlyn is still there— the same caitlyn that vi had said that same nickname too a mere few hours ago. “and stupid!”

“what the hell are you talking about?” vi’s brows furrow.

“that nickname.” you spit. “you’d dare to call me that after using it on caitlyn?”

her mind recalls the memory.

i’m the dirt under your nails, cupcake.

her eyes widen. truth was, she was thinking about you when she said that. she said it because she’s your dirt underneath your nails. she came, and now she’s never going to leave, like a thorn in your side.

“really?” vi deadpans. “that’s what you’re worked up about?”

you purse your lips.

she lets out a chuckle that only fuels your anger. she takes a step toward you, before lowering her voice.

“i knew you were listening.” vi explained, “i was saying that to you.”

you still.

“though, this jealous side of you is kind of cute.”

“shut up.”

“just saying. now, can you stop throwing a fit? kind of holding myself back here.”

“ugh, shut up!” you cry before you grab her face, crashing your lips against hers. vi stilled for a second, taken aback, but she feels a rush of passion flow through her body.

her hands are on you in an instant— clawing, grabbing at your clothes so roughly. her lips are just as you remembered; soft. yet this time, they held a sense of dominance unlike the last time you kissed her.

she hummed against you. and you feel so much.. anger, hatred, jealousy, desire. vi was enjoying this way too much, and you hated that.

you feel her hands on your hips once more, her tongue gliding against your bottom lip, as if asking for permission. you give it by pushing your tongue past her lips, her own finding yours as they tangle and dance for a sense of dominance— to see which way will overtake.

but vi leaves no room for argument. her fingers dig into the skin on your thighs. you squeal as your brought from the floor, her hands holding you up as she picks you up.

your legs dangle loosely around her torso, hand smoothing into her hair, pulling, tugging, holding on so she’s forced to never leave.

you didn’t really know where you were going, but now, you were moving. her tongue glided through your mouth, running along your teeth, your tongue, your gums, everywhere, forcing herself through every part of your mouth until there was nothing left.

and oh, did you miss this feeling.

this feeling of passion, of lust, of desire. this feeling of recklessness. you both know you shouldn’t be doing this— but who can stop desire?

you realize she had guided you to your room when you feel your back hit the fur of your bedspread. she pressed herself between your legs, pulling away from you.

“fuck..” she whispered under her breath, hands smoothing up your stomach, cupping your barely clothed breasts.

“don’t talk.” you loose out, grabbing her face again and pulling her lips back onto yours. she takes that as an understanding, fingers unhooking every button oh so slowly.

you lift yourself off the bed to tear the shirt off your shoulders, throwing it to the side.

vi’s eyes flicker as she pulls away, looking at your body. her eyes land on your budding breasts. just so fucking beautiful. every bit and piece of you was perfect in violets eyes, and she hated how she felt that way.

“i missed you.” she whispers, both forgetting and ignoring your demand of silence. she pulls away, taking her jacket off of her shoulders. clothes fly in a haste, leaving you both naked in mere minutes— well, you naked. she kept her bandages on.

you can’t help the next thing you say. “missed me or missed my body?” you huff, sitting up on your elbows.

vi’s brows furrow. her nose twitches, before she crashed her lips back against yours without a word.

ah. got it. you’d think.

whatever. you shouldn’t have expected much with a hookup.

truth was, vi didn’t know. she didn’t know if her actions were based off purely lust, or something else. she tried not to think about it much— she couldn’t think much, anyways. you were just so soft, so beautiful.

her hands smooth over your body, and you were so drunk on her touch you decided not to care about anything else. her hands, touching you, possessing every part of you.

vi’s lips leave yours, trailing kisses down your jaw, onto your neck. you relish in the feel of her tongue, of her teeth scraping against your skin. her hands, smoothing over your thigh, toying with the strand of your panties. you feel your mouth go agape as her tongue glides over your neck, leaving red splotches, marking you.

you gasp as you feel her hands quiver over your clothed core, pressing so gently it made you whine. she was toying you, being so gentle when she knew you wanted her to be rough.

“don’t think i’ve forgotten.”

you couldn’t process her words— not when her fingers slipped underneath the cloth and dipped into your slick. your head throws back, a jolt of pleasure ripping all throughout your body. a shock to your nerves— finally, a touch that was pleasurable.

“oh, you’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”

your brows furrowed. what the hell was she talking about?

you let your mind fog again when her fingers dip inside of you, pressing so deep. you gasp, feeling your skin grow ablaze, the ache in your stomach only growing. you grasp onto the bedsheets, shocked at how fast this was moving— ten minutes ago, you were accepting the loss of whatever this relationship was. now you were thinking, what the fuck is wrong with me?

“you’re gonna feel everything i felt that night.”

she says this so close to your ear. you feel her breath on the shell of your ear, her teeth nipping at your skin.

“though, you won’t be under a drug like i was. i’ll just have to make up for that.”

her fingers press up as if to further move her point. you let your eyes close, body leaning toward her, hips pressing against her wrist.

“where do you keep those things, hm?”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you huff, eyes slowly opening to look at her.

“you know,” she leaned closer. oh god, her eyes. that smirk. you were done for.

your brows furrow as you thought. her fingers slipped out of you, causing you to frown at the loss of her touch.

she ran a hand through her hair as she looked around, before reaching over you to open a drawer. your eyes catch on the glimpse of her bicep, a glimpse of the tattoo that ran down her back. gods, it only turned you on further.

“ah.” she says. you’d hear her fumble with something before moving back to you.

and your eyes shift to the thing in her hand.

one of the strap ons you owned— and never used, just by the sheer size of it. black, girthy, and big.

“nonono, violet—“you back away from her. she could not use that one, not now.

“oh, yes.”

there’s a certain gleam in her eyes as her hand grabs your hip, pulling you closer to you.

“told you.” she says as she leans back, fumbling with the straps. “i’m gonna get you back.”

you were in for it now.

for someone who’d never used a strap on before, you were pleasantly shocked.

you’d moan into your pillow as her hips slam against yours, over and over and over again. her hand smoothed over your back, pressing it down so your hips pushed up.

you’d never felt this.. this good, this full.

your entire body shook, every bone weak and practically useless. it took everything in you to hold yourself up, to not pull away from her, from her hips.

“oh—“ you groan, “vi!” you’d lost yourself, suddenly not caring about your voice. once vi realized that, she dragged her hand under to your chest, pulling you flush against her.

her hand moved over your mouth, silencing your cries.

at the new angle, she only pushed deeper.

your eyes widen, every nerve, every muscle twitching and shaking with pleasure. you couldn’t handle it, you simply couldn’t.

“not so tough now, huh?” she huffed, her voice out of breath and tight. you feel her being her hips back, just barely, before pushing back into you with such force you felt tears well into your eyes.

how could one woman have this much stamina?

you’d lost count at the amount of climax’s she’s brought you to.

she abruptly pulled out of you, flipping you over, pressing your back against the bed. it was like your body was drained of any sort of will— her strength easily able to manhandle you in every way she could, every position she wanted you in.

she placed herself back inbetween your legs. you saw that smirk on her face, so cocky and confident.

you couldn’t form words to comment something about it.

she brushed her hand over her forehead, inhaling a deep breath of air.

“i kind of like this.” she said breathily as she lowered her hand, aligning the tip of the silicone cock to your hole. as you feel her push back inside you, you let out a damned scream.

she’s quick to cover it, lips pressing against yours to silence your cries.

your legs touched either side of the bed, her hands pinning them down. your hips ached at the stretch— your core ached at the raw stretch the strap-on gave you, and as she pressed further deep inside of you, you swore you saw stars.

“god, oh, i— fuck!” you cry against her lips, hands gripping so hard on her back, nails digging into her skin, leaving crescent marks on her shoulders.

“shh, shh..” she hushed, hand smoothing across your thigh as a sense of comfort, yet, it only riled you up more.

she was so deep, so insanely deep— somewhere surely no one’s ever touched before.

“wouldn’t want anyone to hear you, would you?” she’d taunt, “see you in this position..”

her hips pull back, before bullying her way back into you, at such a slowed, tedious pace— to mess with you, no doubt.

you didn’t care. you didn’t care for anything— you couldn’t, not after this. you were sure you’d never felt anything like it— it was even better then the first night at the brothel.

“i— i can’t—“ you’d cry, head pushing into the pillow to hide your face. you just.. felt so fulfilled.

“oh yes, you can.” she mumbles, eyes flickering over every expression you’d made, engraving it in her mind.

her hips were flush against yours, filling you to the brim. her body pressed against your chest, her hands moving to grip onto the pillow on either side of your head.

“oh, fuck.” she said so softly, wincing as she felt the pressure against her own clit. then, her hips pulled back, and slammed right back into you. she found out, in this new position, it also gave her pleasure.

with how sensitive she was, even the short amount of pressure could help the ache between her legs.

a gleam found her eyes.

her pace became faster, harder, like a damned piston jolting inside of you.

you bite hard into your lip, hands falling limp and falling on either side of you.

“a little longer, princess..” she huffed into your ear. “come on, you can take it.”

“no, i—!” you cry, legs clamping around her torso. “mmmph—“

“just..” she let out a sharp exhale, adjusting her hips so the base hit her clit just right. she moaned into your ear, eyes rolling back, and the sight was just so damn beautiful.

you feel the cord in your stomach grow hot, your body shaking with every thrust she made.

at this rate, you weren’t sure how much you could handle— it was too much vi, so much vi, you were going to go mad. vi, vi, vi.

“oh, vivivi—“ you whined, your body riling itself up, again and again, over and over, each thrust bringing you closer to the familiar taste of an orgasm.

you were scared. scared of the feeling, of the pure pleasure that coursed through your body each and every time. scared of that feeling, of that blinding— oh, god!

your eyes shut closed, your legs clamped around her as that familiar snap of your orgasm flooded through you.

“say my name.”

“v..” you attempted. and then, you deflate against the matress. “vio..”

“come on, you can do it.”

her hips were relentless, forcing you through your orgasm. your body aches with overstimulation, threatening to burst with each and every second.

“say my name.” she says it more directly, nearly damn demanding you to. her voice is a growl against your ear, her hips picking up in pace.

“oh, violet!” you cry, voice cracking.

vi let out a loud moan, her head pressing against your neck, whining against your skin.

and then, she deflated above you.

your body jolts and shakes with every flow of energy, every flow of pleasure. you were so fulfilled, so full, finally getting what your body had been aching for, begging for.

a proper fuck.

a proper fuck from vi.

you had vi. and that was all you needed, even if it was only for the times being.

you yelp as she flips you over, resting you on her chest. she pressed her hips deeper inside of you, and you gasp.

“n.. no! no, no more.” you cry, your head falling against her chest.

“don’t worry.” she says as she caged her arms around you, hands resting tightly on your waist. her hands run up your back. “i won’t push you.”

you let out a sigh of relief.

you fell into a silence.

it was hard for your body to recover from your orgasms when the strap-on was still inside you, pressing into that spot. with every shift she made, you felt your body rile up again.

a beat of silence.

another.

you hear your click tick. you feel her chest go up and down with her breath. you hear her heart beat.

“i missed you.”

she says this so softly. her arms tighten around your torso, her nose nuzzling into your hair.

“not your body.”

a/n. uh.. hey.. sorry this took so long LOL anyway this kid kind of rushed i apologize and it kind of sucks but blushes thank u for all the support on this little mini saga that stemmed off a one shot 🤗

taglist. @just-levyy @princesssmars @thesevi0lentdelights @kissyslut @devotedlyelectronicartisan @cheyisagirlkisser @maracujais @n1shuu @vivispace @elliecoochieeater @izu-lu @wanna1be0 @honeybunbunnie @yariany02 @dumblilb @lalalalal16 @vyvvycg @ayooooohush @slvtformilfs @the-disaster-in-waiting (some of ur tags didn’t work im sorry :( )

#fanfiction #writing #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane season 2 #vi x reader #arcane x reader #vi arcane #pit fighter vi

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natalchartnurtures · 5 months ago

Text

PAC: Your Person's Sexy (Thoughts+) Fantasies About You

Let's expose your person's unfiltered sexy thoughts about you *evil smirks*

Pile 1

A little about your person to see if u picked the right pile:

Ok wow I feel like your person is an incredibly deep person. They don't seem like that at all on the surface tho lmao. They might have a bit of an RBF (regardless of gender). They don't express HALF OF THE EMOTIONS RUNNING INSIDE OF THEM. I'm seeing an iceberg in my head rn; their energy is like that uk... that's just how they grew up. I'm also hearing that they may have mommy issues of some kind that you may or may not know of, or it's just that their mom is a very practical person and doesn't enjoy showing affection much, which would explain your person's lack of overt emotional expression. But BOY do they have some deep-ass feelings for you! Let's expose them together through this reading, yea? 🤭 (after their mini energy check)

They might have a spiritual streak to them, but idk if they are conscious of it or not (could be different for different people here). But in any case, they have a pretty strong connection to both their intuition and God-source or whatever they like to believe in. Again, they might not look spiritual AT ALL, but the way they move through life screams "I'm divinely led by God himself." Haha, love this person tbh. They're giving me Stoic-with-a-mushy-heart vibes. What a cutie pie.

They almost look at you as if you are a dream. Come. True. As if you were bestowed to them as a gift for making it so far in life. For all the hard work they put in to build their life, you're at the other end waiting for them to come home to you. Jeez, do you SEE HOW DEEP THEY FEEL FOR YOU? That was directly channeled wow... it's almost as if they worship the ground you walk on (in their mind, cuz they a lil stoic cutie pie).

Extra messages on the side: You guys may be in a relationship now or will be in one soon. You guys dream about each other a lot. They have a strong and intimidating aura. They seem very sure of themselves. They might really stand out to you, especially in a crowded room.

I was hearing a song while reading for this pile too—Never Be the Same by Camila Cabello. So excited!

If that resonated, let's expose your person's (unfiltered) sexy thoughts about you cuz now we KNOW they don't always show what they feel. 😏 This should be fun.

K, this is what I see. This person DREAMS about holding you down and dominating you in bed and letting allllll their sexual frustration out. Cuz remember spirit told us about how stoic they are? They hold back their sexual desires towards you as well, and boy are they extremely sexually frustrated. They fantasize about being a beast in bed with you, and as I SAID THAT, I saw them wanting to make the bed shake while fucking your brains out hahaha whoa... This person is intense for you, phew! They wanna let all of their feelings out with you in bed, and that's something they fantasize about. They might be into light BDSM too. They looooove the idea of choking you, or if they have, they looooove thinking about it OVER n OVER n OVER again lmao.

This person is wild for u. Ur like stuck in this person's brain. They're addicted, like in that song I channeled earlier Never Be the Same. It says, "blurring all the lines, u intoxicate me." Wow. If y’all have already had sex, THEY CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT, and if y’all haven’t, they can’t stop thinking about what it WOULD be like. They imagine putting you in all kinds of positions, they imagine how you'd sound when you moan, and how you'd look if they did something you liked. 😏🤭👀

This person is honestly tired of being so uptight and stoic in life, and you give them a chance to be free and be themselves, I heard. Aw, and that's why they're so hooked on you—cuz u give them life again 🥺.

This person LOVES you bro idk what kinda love spell u cast on them—they’re fucking WHIPPED when it comes to you. They fantasize about making you really wet and eventually making you cum. They love the idea of very wet sex with you (lol that's what I heard). You don't know what you mean to this person, and the only way they think they can show u is through physical intimacy and sex. One of their love languages might be physical touch. They loooove the idea of kissing and hugging and loving on you for hours. They love the idea of touching your sweet spots till you can’t resist them anymore. 🫠🤭

They love the idea of sneaking kisses and touches with u in public or semi-public places. They like knowing that they're the only one who can touch u like that 🫢👀🙆🏾‍♀️.

You're everything this person ever dreamed of. To them, you're the light of their life, I heard. They loooove your body, your mind, and most importantly your coochie cuz girrrrrl he be whipped by that kitty cat purrrr hahaahah. Or if you guys are reading for a crush—if you DO have sex, he WILL be (he doesn't see this coming at all 😈🤭).

He prolly fantasizes about you first thing in the morning and wakes up with a boner lmao. Or maybe he has wet dreams about you and accidentally wakes up at night (well it ain't your fault u cute n sexy af 🤷🏾‍♀️).

Side note: He prolly masturbates to you more than u think/know cuz he sure as hell would be out here pretending he doesn’t lmao.

Yea, to sum it up, you have ur person on an energetic LEASH, and they yearn for your loving soooo much—doesn’t matter if you have had sex or not 🙃.

Tehe, that's all I have for you today, pile 1! Stay eternally sexy and juicy I love you!

If you'd like to keep this sexy party going and receive customized messages about your person's sexy thoughts just for you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 2

A little about your person to see if u picked the right pile:

Your person has MAD big dick energy—I love that about them. They're hot, abundant, and very giving. They make a hell of a first impression, I hear. They seem so extroverted lmao; they remind me of a Leo, n they may have big Leo placements. If not, it's just their energy. Tho to you, they SHINE like the sun. U love their vibe and especially their childlike aura ✨️.

They may have some energy vampires around that want them only for their light, and it really does take a toll on your person... but you're different. They see you as a kind and nurturing soul, and boy, do they appreciate you SO MUCH for it. They're very grateful for your presence. They love your voice too, I hear... something about you is so soothing... healing and feminine. Ugh. It's so beautiful! It's almost as if in a world where they get taken advantage of a lot, the thought of you is their oasis... their safe haven. Aw, they love thinking about you 💚.

Extra messages on the side: This might be a workplace/school/college crush. This person loves your work ethic and vice versa. They love looking at you, especially during work lol; u distract them, and they love it :p.

I was hearing a song while reading for this pile- "Marvin Gaye" by Charlie Puth and Meghan Trainor.

If that resonated, let's channel their (unfiltered) sexy thoughts about you!

First of all... you get their, ahem, horses RUNNING every time they see you. EVERY. TIME. Just something about you makes their body go nuts! Lol, they may have to hide their boners a lot at work/school/college 🤣.

It’s your feminine vibe tbh. You come off like an EMPRESS to this person—fucking irresistible! Gosh, they just wanna come and claim you for themselves and never let you go! You give them blue balls, I hear 😂 (aw, that's sad).

Oooh... they have baby-making fantasies with you. They love fantasizing about consensually nutting inside you—it makes them WEAK to think about that 😆😛💦.

They love your hair! They fantasize about pulling your hair in bed passionately while getting lost in your coochie, girl. Oooh, they might really enjoy imagining y’all doing doggy style a lot. Ughhh.

Your vibe feels very healing to them, and you feel very emotionally nurturing to them, as if you were made just for them. Ooh, I hear "Made For Me" by Muni Long if that resonates for anybody. That's how u make them feel! They love imagining themselves letting their guard down and just getting lost in you and with you, tehe.

They LOVE to fantasize about your boobies lol. They love your chest, boobies, and shoulders region. Oh! And your back as well—they could stare at them for hours 😆.

They fantasize about kissing and touching you in these areas especially, and... it keeps them up at night :p.

They love that you're different from the people they've known/come across in their life. They... fantasize about having healing pillow talks with you while y’all caress each other’s hair 🥺. Aw, this is too cute. Gosh... my heart—

Side note: This person has felt very misunderstood and lonely growing up, so with you, they fantasize about being accepted and loved for the very first time... sheesh. That's rough. My heart goes out to them. You're truly a gift to this person.

K, moving on. This person might really like your feet? Like fantasizing about giving you foot massages and maybe massages in general to take away your stress, to help you relax. They love the idea of TOUCHING YOU deeply. They might think u have really pretty skin, and they can't get enough of your touches (if u ever have).

They might fantasize about role-playing too? About you playing a damsel in distress, and they come in to your rescue, and then y’all cum together 🤭🤣.

This person might have a great sense of humor too lol.

Ooh, I heard they LOVE undressing you with their eyes... they might have really intense eyes, and your eye contact could really take you off to another dimension haha.

This pile is more emotional than it is dirty, so maybe y’all haven’t had sex yet. So, they kinda leave their fantasies open to possibilities, so there aren’t a lot of sexy details coming through.

But yea, this person feels an emotional connection with you, and it's so damn beautiful. More than anything, this person just wants to make sweet love to you... ugh, so precious.

That's all I have today for you, Pile 2! I love you, and stay sexy and sweet 🫂✨️

If you'd like to keep this sexy party going and receive customized messages about your person's sexy thoughts just for you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 3

A little about your person to see if u picked the right pile:

This person might present as being super resistant to change. They might like their comfort zone A LOT and prefer to operate from it no matter what. They may have a stubborn streak as well. Honestly, they give me Taurus-in-the-lower-octave kinda vibes lol.

This person may like you but not overtly tell or show it to you? This may be my situationship pile… or many people in situationships have messages here. K, I'm also getting that this person might love partying and going out in general? May have a lotta friends and be very social in life, generally speaking. They might be someone who has commitment issues or they just struggle when it comes to romantic relationships, cuz it seems to me as if this person has yet to learn some hard lessons around romance and partnership. They may have player tendencies? (This isn't for all of you tho, you'll know if it's for you.)

They might enjoy instant gratification over long-term when it comes to relationships AS OF right NOW in their life. I'm getting that the universe sent this person your connection to help them mature 🤦🏾‍♀️ (isn't that fun 🙄).

Lol anyways...

Extra messages: situationship, FWB, sexting

Channeled song i heard while chanelling this pile: Ride It by Larissa and Jay Sean

If that resonated, let's channel their (unfiltered) sexy thoughts about you 👀🙆🏾‍♀️😈

Daytime sex. They loooove fantasizing about fucking you anytime they like lol. Something about that makes them sooooo horny lol. They fantasize about fucking you so good that you'll have no choice but to come back to them EVERY single time. They like to imagine "hitting it from the back," and you're all sweaty and up against a wall, and they have their hand on your mouth to keep you from screaming. (Goddamn that's hot!)

They may not have access to you right now, or maybe it's cuz you're both super busy people, but they wish they could have quickies or fun sex with you ANY time (this message be coming in STRONG lol).

They looooove watching your body when they do you (for those of you that have already had sex with this person). If you haven't, then they fantasize about fucking with the lights on lol. Something about watching you writhe under them and responding to their body just TURNS THEM ON HAARDD haha.

Also, I can't help but get an FWB vibe from this pile. Please take it only if it resonates. IF you ARE in an FWB situation, they ABSOLUTELY love it. They look forward to every time y’all are about to do it :p

This person may be quite emotionally immature, and so they have more sexual desire for you than actual emotion, but I feel like it's the same way for you too. I get a mutual, consensual vibe here. So if it’s not, please pick another pile, it’s OK. This pile ain’t for you, princess 🙂

I'm also getting that a lot of you have already had sex with this person, and THEY LOVE IT. They looove it when you ride it; it drives them WILD. And if you haven't, they drool over fantasies about it 👀🫠.

They love thinking about fucking you anywhere but on a bed lmao. Like, say, a car or in a parking lot? This person would have you anywhere and anytime, if they could—phew!

They touch themselves a lot when you're not around too. This is when their fantasies creep in like Santa through the chimney, and they think about having a chance encounter with you, giving in to each other's horniness, and getting caught up in the moment. They love spontaneously fucking. Some Sag energy coming through rn. They may love your ass and thighs too—gosh, they could love gripping it while doing you. Sheesh. You're the best sex they've had in a long time (your person's words, not mine), and they really appreciate your encounters being so mutual but fun at the same time. If that hasn't happened, that's what they want: mutual fun.

This person is never not horny for you lol.

That's all I got for you, Pile 3! This was steamy af! Stay sexy, and I love you 🫂

If you'd like to keep this sexy party going and receive customized messages about your person's sexy thoughts just for you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

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room-surprise · 1 year ago

Text

Evidence that Kabru from Delicious in Dungeon is Indian, a Masterpost

(EDIT: This post is an excerpt/remix of Kabru's section of my larger essay about the real world linguistic and cultural references Dungeon Meshi. You can read the essay on AO3 here. I also have another post about what part of South Asia I think Utaya is based on here.)

Since Kabru’s first appearance in the anime is upon us, I wanted to write something that compiles all the evidence we have that Kabru is meant to be a person of South or Central Asian ethnicity, or at least whatever the equivalent to that is in the Dungeon Meshi world.

Ryoko Kui can and does draw people of many different ethnicities, and the way she draws Kabru matches the way she draws other Asian characters in Dungeon Meshi. He doesn’t look Black, or Hispanic, or any other ethnicity because he isn’t supposed to. He looks like a dark-skinned South or Central Asian person, because that’s what Ryoko Kui probably intends him to be.

So let’s go through the evidence! (There are no spoilers for the plot of Dungeon Meshi below, but there ARE spoilers for Kabru's backstory as explained in the manga, and in extra materials like the Daydream Hour and Adventurer's Guide book.)

KABRU’S NAME

The Dungeon Meshi Adventurer's Bible tells us Kabru’s real name is unknown. There are other characters whose real names are only told to us in the Adventurer's Bible and were never revealed in the manga, but then Kabru, Thistle and Izutsumi’s entries simply say their real names are unknown, and though Kui could tell us their true names, she doesn’t. I assume this means that the characters themselves don’t know what their real names are, and that the names they go by are not their birth names, but this is only a supposition on my part.

KABRU THE MOUNTAIN

Kabru (काब्रु) is the name of a mountain on the border of Nepal and India, and part of the Himalayan range. It’s the 65th tallest mountain in the world and it is very snowy and icy, with frequent avalanches. Because of this, even though it’s not the tallest mountain in the world, climbing it is challenging, and is not often attempted. Those few that have managed to climb it consider it a major achievement.

“This prohibitively fearful icefall… had thwarted numerous expeditions, perhaps even the 'thought' of attempting the mountain… Unstable seracs of the icefall, a complex maze of chasms, and delicate snow bridges spanning seemingly never ending, near bottomless crevasses… Each time the members stepped into the icefall, they stood a good chance of never returning.” (Kabru - Mountain of the Gods, Major A. Abbey, Himalayan Journal 52, 1996, editor Harish Kapadia)

WHAT DOES KABRU’S NAME MEAN?

Kabru is a character that is known for being very good at charming people, but who doesn’t express himself honestly, because he’s trying to manipulate the people and situations around him in order to maintain control at all times. I think nobody really knows who Kabru is deep inside, maybe not even Kabru himself, so a remote, hostile, icy mountain that’s hard to climb seems like an extremely appropriate name.

Some of the oldest English sources I found regarding Kabru suggest that Kabru isn’t the correct local name for the mountain (a common problem in early Himalayan exploration by Europeans) and might just be a descriptor, or that it’s a misspelling.

This makes the name seem even more appropriate, since Kui’s told us Kabru’s true name is unknown. It’s possible that Kabru was a place-name or a descriptor that Milsiril (Kabru’s elven foster mother) was given when she picked up a traumatized 7 year old Kabru, and she just started using it as his name, and that even he doesn’t remember his real name thanks to his severe trauma.

The fact that people in the real world can’t seem to agree on the mountain Kabru’s name, or what it means, reminds me of the running gag of Laios repeatedly getting Kabru’s name wrong in the manga.

"All the people near the Kabru massif call it 'Kaboor'." (The Alpine Journal, 1921-22 Volume 34, Edited by George Yeld and J. P. Farrar) “It is also said that the name applies to a peak close to Kinchinjunga on the southeast, and not to the peak known to Europeans as Kabru… [The real name is] Pahung Ri [Pauhunri].” (Appendix I: Place Names in Darjeeling. The appendix says it was “compiled mainly from an article written by Colonel Waddell and published in the Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal (Vol. LX, part I, 1891)”) “Kangchen is a Tibetan name… the Sikkhimese use it as the name for the peak called Kabru by Europeans.” (Charles Bell, Dyhrenfurth's Himalaya (Berlin, 1931)) “...Kyabru or the horn of protection. The name is… Kabur… possibly a corruption of Kangbur or the swelling of snow; it might also mean the white swelling (kar-bur).” (Appendix I: Place Names in Darjeeling.) “Kabru literally means the 'White Avalanche' peak (Ka means 'white' and bru means 'avalanche').” (Kabru - Mountain of the Gods, Major A. Abbey, Himalayan Journal 52, 1996, editor Harish Kapadia)

I’ve seen one other mountaineering article cite the “white avalanche” meaning, and I think it’s plausible since the Appendix says it can mean “white swelling” or “swelling of snow”, which may very well be a literal translation for “white avalanche”.

WHAT ABOUT UTAYA? IS THAT INDIAN TOO?

Utaya means “raised” or “uplifted” in Hindi, but it’s also a real village and a Japanese boy’s name.

Utaya (ウタヤ) is the name of the village that Kabru was raised in before his mother died and he was adopted by the elf Milsiril. Utaya is located in the southeast of the Western Continent. It’s worth noting that Kabru probably wasn’t born in Utaya, since his mother had to flee from her home to keep Kabru alive, so Utaya may be some distance away from his birth place… Not so far that a woman with a newborn baby couldn’t survive the trip, but far enough that her husband’s family gave up on chasing her. So Kabru was probably born in a close-by area.

In the real world, Utaya (Yakut: Утайа) is in an extremely rural and isolated area with a population of less than a hundred people. It’s located in the Sakha Republic, which is in the Northeastern part of Asia in the Russian Federation. The Yakut/Sakha are a Siberian Turkic people.

The Turkic peoples are a collection of diverse ethnic groups of West, Central, East, and North Asia as well as parts of Europe, who speak Turkic languages.

Early and medieval Turkic groups exhibited a wide range of both East Asian and West-Eurasian physical appearances and genetic origins, in part through long-term contact with neighboring peoples such as Iranian, Mongolic, Tocharian, Uralic/Yeniseian peoples, and others. Turkic peoples share, to varying degrees, non-linguistic characteristics like cultural traits, ancestry from a common gene pool, and historical experiences.

JAPANESE MEANINGS FOR UTAYA

Utaya can be a Japanese boy’s name with several different meanings, depending on which kanji it’s spelled with. In most of the spellings: Poetry, sing a poem, singing, compose poetry

In many of the spellings: The place where the sun shines, it's been a long time, distant, big, to shoot with a bow, to swear, affirmation, question.

The Utaya disaster happened a long time ago.

If Utaya is up in the mountains above the clouds it’s a place where the sun shines brightly.

Kabru has sworn to himself that he will prevent another Utaya tragedy from happening.

In only a few of the spellings: to mend, feathers, wings, a word for counting birds and rabbits, sort them out, washing with water to separate the good from the bad, roof, house with a roof, a world covered with a big sky, infinite space, song that praises the Buddha, Eight.

Counting birds and rabbits makes me think of divination and also that the people of Utaya were like little birds and rabbits (small prey animals) to the monsters that devoured them.

Separating the good and the bad could hint to the “judgment” of Utaya and the greed of its people that led to their downfall, also sorting through things to separate good and bad is something that’s done with food and other resources.

The Himalayan region is often referred to as the “roof of the world”, with a big open sky above it.

The infinite could refer to the dimension the demon comes from, or to the sky above the mountains.

Buddhism is a common religion in the Himalayan region, and eight has auspicious connotations in Buddhism.

With all that in mind, Utaya as a name for Kabru’s home village is an interesting choice, and adds another layer to his origins, maybe suggesting not just North Indian/Himalayan, but Central or North Asian cultural influence as well.

It is also possible that the name is just telling us that Utaya is “up” in the mountains, or that it was “uplifted” by the wealth of the dungeon, or even that Kabru was “raised” there… The Japanese name meanings are also extremely fascinating and hint at similar ideas, as well as the tragedy that happened to Utaya.

WHY ELSE DO YOU THINK KABRU AND UTAYA ARE HIMALAYAN?

In the real world, the Himalayan mountain range is an extremely popular tourist destination, and the amount of people who want to visit and attempt to climb the mountains far outpaces the local ability to support it. This makes me think of the dungeon of Utaya and how people overcrowded it in their desire to conquer and exploit it.

Dungeons as an unsustainable way for locals to make a living that leads to the destruction of their homes when the dungeon inevitably collapses is a major plot point in Dungeon Meshi, so I think the parallel is likely intentional. Characters often talk about someone “conquering” the dungeon, and “conquer” is also the terminology commonly used for climbing a mountain. This terminology obviously has a hostile, imperialist subtext in the real world, since it’s most commonly used by outsiders talking about proving their strength by climbing a mountain.

Also, there are local legends in the areas surrounding Mt. Kabru that there is a valley of immortality hidden on its slopes, which reminds me of the way that the dungeons can grant conditional immortality to the people inside of them.

This image of Utaya could be showing us a village built on a mountainside. The house shapes seem a bit more Middle Eastern than Nepali/Indian, but it’s not a detailed drawing and the roof styles are a mix of flat and peaked.

CULTURE

In the Daydream Hour sketchbook, Ryoko Kui included a small comic about characters sharing desserts from their home countries. A young Kabru is shown enthusiastically trying to share an unnamed sweet, and he is interrupted by his elven foster mother, who insists he present a type of elven cake instead. We know that Kabru hates this type of cake, and he seems disappointed to have to eat it and talk about it.

The white balls in Kabru’s dessert are very likely meant to be an Indian sweet called rasgulla (literally "syrup filled ball"). Rasgulla are a dessert popular in the eastern part of South Asia, made from ball-shaped dumplings of chhena dough, cooked in light sugar syrup. While it is near-universally agreed upon that the dessert originated in the eastern Indian subcontinent, the exact origin is disputed. Rasgulla are as culturally important to the Bengal and Odisha regions of India as Parmesan cheese is to the region of Parma in Italy.

Rasgulla are also popular in Nepal, where they are called rasbari.

KABRU’S PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Kabru is one of several characters in Dungeon Meshi with clearly non-European features: he has brown skin and thick black/dark brown curly hair. He has almond-shaped eyes with long, dark lashes (fans like to joke that he’s wearing eyeliner). All of these are traits common to people from the Indian subcontinent. His blue eyes are not common for someone with his skin/hair color, but blue or green eyes are not unheard of in that region either.

(Indian man with blue eyes)

Blue or light eyes are often a cause for discrimination, like what Kabru experienced as a child. More on this in a moment.

Kabru is 5’7” (170cm) tall, which is short for a Northern European man (180), tall for a Nepali man (162cm), but close to the average height of Indian men (177cm). He has a slender build, which is also common for Asian people in general, and South Asian men in particular.

Compared to the European-looking tall-men in Dungeon Meshi (such as Laios, Falin, Delgal, Marcille’s father), Kabru’s facial features look more like the other Asian characters, such as Toshiro and his party.

CAN DARK-SKINNED PEOPLE HAVE BLUE EYES?

Yes. Light-colored eyes are very uncommon in parts of the world where most people have dark eyes, since dark eyes are a dominant trait in real-world human beings. That means that in order for two parents with dark eyes to have a child with light eyes, both parents need to have a recessive light-eyes gene (or for there to be an illness or genetic mutation), and that’s rare in populations that don’t have a lot of light-eyed people to begin with.

THEN WHY DO SO MANY DARK-SKINNED CHARACTERS HAVE BLUE EYES?

Anime and manga often give characters with dark skin light colored eyes instead of allowing them to have brown or black eyes, which is much more common in real life. It’s a hurtful design trope that makes many readers feel that their natural dark eyes are somehow ugly or inferior to blue eyes.

This trope is used over and over again by authors who want their characters to look “cool” and “exotic”, and for their eyes to be high-contrast to make it easier to show their emotions.

I don’t think this is what Ryoko Kui is doing in Dungeon Meshi.

UNREALISTIC HAIR AND EYE COLOR COMBOS IN ANIME

In a lot of anime/manga, blue eyes (regardless of skin color) don’t actually mean anything in the narrative, in the same way characters having green or pink hair doesn’t mean anything, the colors are non-diegetic, they don’t actually exist in the world, like the music that plays in the background without an on-screen source.

It’s an artistic shorthand to make characters visually stand out, instead of giving them all black hair and eyes like most real-life Japanese people… Which is what most anime/manga characters are meant to be: Japanese people.

Dungeon Meshi has a large cast of characters that are explicitly meant to be non-Japanese. We know this because there’s a group of characters that are Japanese, and they’re drawn differently from everyone else, they wear ethnically Japanese clothing, and have ethnically Japanese names.

Unlike other series, where eye and hair color don’t mean anything, Dungeon Meshi has no unrealistic skin, hair, or eye color combinations.

(Except for the elves, who seem to have different genetics than real world-humans. I’ll get into that another time.)

Ryoko Kui must be aware of the dark skin, blue-eyes design trope, because if she gave Kabru blue eyes just because she thought it looked good, surely she would have made some of the other Asian or dark-skinned characters have light eyes. Out of 9 Asian or dark-skinned tall-man characters, Kabru is the only one with blue eyes.

Kabru having light-colored eyes is central to his story, and Kui talks about it.

KABRU’S STORY AND WHY HIS BLUE EYES MATTER

Kabru’s father and his family tried to kill Kabru when he was born because he had blue eyes. Kabru’s mother ran away, and ended up raising Kabru by herself in Utaya. She didn’t try to return home to her own birth family, but instead struggled to raise a child completely on her own with no money or support, which implies she had no other options, due to the fear people of their region have for people with blue eyes.

This is a real thing that used to happen frequently in areas where most of the population has dark eyes, and it still happens to this day.

In a realistic story, this is logically what would happen to a character with dark skin born with blue eyes in a place like the Utaya region. It’s rare for manga or anime to show dark-skinned blue-eyed characters facing this.

WHAT IS THE “EVIL EYE”?

The “evil eye” is a supernatural belief in a curse brought about by a person looking at you. The belief in the evil eye has existed since prehistory, as long as 5,000 years ago. It is estimated that around 40% of the modern world's population believes in the evil eye. This concept is most common across the Mediterranean, the Balkans, the Middle East, and Central and South Asia, areas where light-colored eyes are uncommon.

In areas where light-colored eyes are rare, people with green eyes, and especially blue eyes, are thought to bestow the curse, intentionally or unintentionally. Just one look from a blue-eyed person is often considered enough to inflict a curse.

One of the most famous and widespread talismans against the evil eye is the nazar, a glass amulet featuring concentric circles in dark blue, white, light blue and black. It’s supposed to “bounce” the curse away from the wearer.

HOW DOES THIS APPLY TO KABRU?

Imagine Kabru growing up in a village surrounded by people wearing and hanging talismans that look like his eyes, because the people around him think blue eyes are evil. They call his mother a witch for birthing him, and a whore because she doesn’t have a husband. Imagine parents forbidding their children from playing with or even talking to Kabru. People crossing the street to get away from him, or chasing him away by throwing rocks.

I think the reason young Kabru was able to learn how to speak some kobold is likely because he was so heavily ostracized by the other tall-men around him, the only children he could occasionally interact with in Utaya were kobolds, who might not share the same cultural superstitions that the tall-man do.

This childhood trauma, combined with Kabru’s experience of the dungeon collapse in Utaya, and being raised by an elf that treated him more like a pet than a human being, set Kabru up as a character who has never had a home where he belongs. He has been an outsider from the instant he was born, and every place he has lived treats him as an “other.”

To his father’s family, he was a curse. To his mother, although she loved him, he was a burden. To the people of Utaya, he was a monster. To the elves, he’s a tall-man baby (no matter how old he gets) with funny looking eyes, to the people on Merini Island, he’s a foreigner from the West with elven ways and education.

CONCLUSION

I wanted to write this because I know some people will see Kabru in the anime for the first time today and think "Oh, another dark skinned blue eyed character! This is a bad character design that is evidence that the author is racist at worst or ignorant at best.” And I don’t think that’s a fair assessment of Ryoko Kui’s work in Dungeon Meshi.

This isn’t to say that Ryoko Kui has never done anything wrong, or that her work couldn’t be more inclusive, or that there’s no way in which she could improve.

But there are pages and pages of artwork she’s done that shows she cares about these issues, and I think it’s worth celebrating when someone makes that kind of effort with their artwork.

ANYWAY…

If you’ve read this far, you’re very strong hahaha. I hope you enjoyed this essay. I’ll be publishing more soon when I finish my Dungeon Meshi research on the names and cultures of all the characters. Wish me luck!

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #kabru #my stuff #analysis #character of color #theories #Dungeon Meshi Research

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0bticeo · 13 days ago

Text

YOUR HEART'S GOT TEETH

summary:

he grins a little, rueful. “you’d do it, wouldn’t you? sink that dagger in my heart, if it came down to it.” you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. his stare weighs on the small droplet, one curled finger tilting up your chin. “would you want me to do it?” his thumb pressed down on your lower lip. your heart skips a beat. “it has to be you,” he mutters.

wc: 4.4k, part one out of two (smut in part 2).

tw: blood and gore, betrayal, reader's a former black widow because crossovers are neat, natasha romanoff mentioned, canon typical violence, teasing, close proximity, kissing (dubcon? reader's into it but conflicted), unresolved sexual tension

somebody is insistently poking your cheek. you frown and burrow yourself in the source of warmth on your left. another poke, pointer finger a little harsher, brushing the cheekbone left bare by your mask. you groan and open a bleary eye. the sun blinds you. dick grayson is smiling down at you.

“wake up, sleepyhead.”

you groan. bury yourself back in that heavenly warmth and feel a hint of heat creeping up your neck when you realise it’s his shoulder you’ve been snuggling against.

“told you not to wake me up unless an apocalypse started.”

contrite silence.

you raise your head, eyes squinting suspiciously, sleep-induced drowsiness vanishing. dick has a tense little smile on his lips. matter of fact, the entire living room is tense, as sunlight-bathed it may be. you catch sight of a frowning damian and a glimpse of red- oh, hell. if jason’s there, too, shit is about to hit the fan, hard . you groan again, mumbling against the coldness of kevlar.

“why does this type of thing happen exclusively when i’m on a day off–”

“you don’t have days off, crow.”

you look up at dick, wounded.

“rub it in, will you?”

in hindsight, you should’ve expected it. crows are a bad omen, and ever since you took that moniker for your vigilante persona, misfortune’s been hot on your heels. then again, it’s been trailing you for a while.

(lights out. the burning weight of a gun in your hands. feet aching from the imprint left by pointe shoes. the cooling body of your sister. the cold, satisfied gaze of one of the many handlers roaming these halls.)

misfortune and death have followed you ever since you were a child. so when batman – uncowled, frowning, tired – tells you about the dead rising, you’re barely phased. still, dread sips in your core, a heavy weight, cold and ominous. he talks about bodies, drained of blood. barry, dead. barry. speedster. how the hell–

“the league is compromised,” he continues, absently fiddling with a vial.

alfred settles besides you, calm and composed, the epitome of british phlegmatism, pouring you coffee. the situation must be dire indeed, if he consents to brew coffee out of all things. still, you take it, downing the cup like it’s the last one you’ll ever get. you’ll need it, with how sluggish you’ve been lately, patrol after patrol piling up on your shoulders.

“what makes you think we aren’t?” you ask, wary.

batman looks at you, eyes like steel.

“the holy water in your beverages would have killed you.”

you tilt your head.

“i assume you did research on ye olden vampire folklore and found it all to be true?”

“yes.”

“oh, naturally.”

damian may or may not have thrown his hot chocolate in your face upon learning it was laced with holy water. you dodge, dick’s chest rumbling with laughter as you do, warm and steady and safe and – god, get a grip, crow.

you bask in lethal sunlight, cross in hand, because sanctity repels the corrupt. you wonder if you should tell batman that trying is no use. if they got to barry, the league is done for. one of them would have turned the others. even clark –

dick grins, spinning the cross between two long, slender fingers. you follow the motion, gaze lingering on the blue stripes stretching from collarbone to fingertips.

“i guess the stakes are pretty high, huh?”

you roll your eyes and slap at dick’s chest with a low hiss of: “focus”. a little fond. softer than the killing machine you’ve been molded into. your heart skips a beat when he grins back at you, hip nudging yours.

you think it’s good to see them all here. no matter what, as sure as the sun will rise, they remain somewhat of a constant in your life. batman has back up plans upon back up plans. you should be fine. you will be. so why are you so on edge?

(he feels it, the way your heart hammers in your chest, hummingbird-fast. hears the pulse of it, a trembling little thing. had he been lesser, he would’ve wanted to cradle it close, cup it in the warm expanse of his palms.

as it is, his heart is cold and his hunger monstrous.)

the streets of gotham are as familiar as the motions you go through each morning, a well-loved path. above, mother moon bleeds red.

you patrol, because it’s the only thing that can take your edge off, and desperately wish for a miracle. it’s foolish, you know. lucifer may be lazing about indolently in hell, you may have stared into the eyes of the reaper on one strange occasion, but you don’t believe in god.

nietzsche’s words echo in your head, broken, outdated record crackling back to life. god is dead. god remains dead. and we have killed him.

at his feet, a vampire. dead.

you wonder how to kill what can’t be killed. omnipotent. omnipresent. omniscient. you slide down a beaten down wall, silent as a shadow, and catch a split-second glimpse of red, stake deadly in strong, murder-wrought hands.

this is crime alley, and here is its protector, the bloodsoaked prince of gotham himself. red hood.

how shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?

you meet his gaze through the opaque lenses of his domino mask and keep patrolling. higher and higher, wind sharp in your ears, gliding against the steel feathers woven in your shoulders, over your arms. neon lights slide off the dead white of your eyes, your half-mask a faceless, dead thing.

what was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us?

there was something about holding that cross in your bared palm, the glove tucked in your utility belt. the heavy weight of it, the cold silver stark against your skin. salvation incarnate in a godless world, and you desperately want something to go right for a change, because fuck murphy’s law and everything it entails.

a blur in your peripheral. sharp, hungry. well-oiled machine, you dig your stake between the third and fourth rib and watch as flames engulf him. it. what was once a living, breathing human being before fangs tore off his throat, before his dying breath choked on a mouthful of blood.

blood doesn’t spill on your hands. you feel its warmth nevertheless.

who will wipe this blood off you?

the voice in your hand sounds like your handler. cold. sharp. unforgiving. you’re gonna carry that weight, raw guilt on your palms for all the lives you have taken.

footsteps, lithe and graceful as a swan.

“remind me not to get on your bad side.”

nightwing leans against the wall, the neon of aircraft warning lights bleeding red on his frame. half in the shadows, half burned in flames. you offer a tentative smile, tucking away your bloodied stake.

“i don’t think i’ll ever turn my blade on you.”

he hums, skipping towards you, impossibly fluid.

“which one would you use, if you had no choice?” he breathes, inches away from you.

it’s at his throat before you know it. a sharp, deadly thing. he recognises it, the long, narrow blade you stumbled across in a bidding. miséricorde – a blade used for mercy kills. his fingers trail down your wrist, finding the junction where your glove and sleeve meets. the pad of them presses on your inner wrist, reaching for your pulse.

“you flatter me, crow. picking the dagger i gifted you?”

gone is the metronome heartbeat you assume on patrol, the one that’s been drilled into you upon countless hours of practice, the one that had your sisters put down like dogs for failing to keep. your pulse hammers, radial artery stuttering under his thumb. he feels it, you know, despite the kevlar.

“do me a favour, blue.” you sheathe it back with your free hand, the blade disappearing in the confines of your suit. “don’t make me use it.”

don’t get bitten, you want to beg. don’t put me in a position in which your blood will stain my hands, too.

he grins a little, rueful.

“you’d do it, wouldn’t you? sink that dagger in my heart, if it came down to it.”

you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. his stare weighs on the small droplet, one curled finger tilting up your chin.

“would you want me to do it?”

his thumb pressed down on your lower lip. your heart skips a beat.

“it has to be you,” he mutters.

you cannot see his eyes. only stare at the milky-white concealing atlantic blue, that perfect shade. it unnerves you, perhaps.

“i thought you and babs-”

he grins, amused.

“no.”

oh .

“i’m sorry.”

you’re not. some awful, gleeful little part of you is grinning, sharp and bloody. yours . yours to keep, to ensnare in your pretty little web, to covet and cherish –

a split-second reckoning. you’re no black widow. not since he came along, not since he helped you. you’re crow. sharp, deadly, trying to be better than what they molded you into. maybe you’re too late. maybe you’re the sand at the bottom half of that dreadful red hourglass. maybe –

“you’re thinking too much.”

your coms sparkle to life.

you blink. he’s close . you didn’t even see him move . maybe he’s always been there, half a step away from you, impeccably warm in the cool gothamite night. something like fight or flight settles in your bones, adrenaline rising before a fight, body electric, brushing against his. oh.

oh .

you can feel his breath dusting your cheek, the way he curves into you, drawing closer and closer, two halves of a whole. his nose brushes your jaw, gently nuzzling against you.

you let out something like a strangled whine, raw and aching, his hand trailing up your side, brushing against your ribs as though reaching for the heart beneath. he smiles, abyss-deep.

“head back to base. now.”

you part. his thumb lingers on your lip, wiping away the small droplet of blood. you disappear in the shadows without a sound. you’re cold.

(he licks his finger clean and shudders, eyes rolling back behind his mask. his smile cuts through the night.)

you don’t bother flicking the lights back on in your living room. merely slip inside through your open window and scratch under your cat’s chin as you make a beeline towards your fridge. there’s still leftover curry in it. some divine pasta dish dick whipped up the last time he came here – maybe you should finish that.

you shoot him a quick text. a picture of the plated dish, captioned: “do i get to kiss the cook?” you’re fishing around in your drawer for cutlery when you see it. a glimpse of gold. you sigh, shoulders heaving as you get your plate from the microwave, grabbing the cat on your way. nero rewards you with minimal wriggling and a few gray hairs on your suit.

“good evening to you too, diana.”

she seeps out of the dark, shadow-fluid, with the grace of a predator. her lips flash red in the dim lighting of your kitchen, golden flecks from the street lights shimmering on her bracelets.

“i come in peace.”

you push forward your plate in a silent invitation. she raises an amused eyebrow, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. relaxed. non-threatening. it doesn’t fool you. her kind is faster than yours. she’d break your neck before you’d finish blinking.

“i assume you want to turn me.”

“that honour doesn’t belong to me.”

you take back your plate and dig in, wary. your cat climbs on your shoulders. the only thing between you and the apex predator of a warrior in front of you is the dinner table. somehow, you doubt ikea’s eikedalen table would hold her back that long.

“why are you here?”

she smiles. it cuts through the penumbra. you see the faint outline of her fangs in the shadows. something in you breaks a little.

“our king wants to see you.”

you swallow your mouthful of pasta. divinity never tasted this bitter. you file away the information. the vampires abide by a strict hierarchy. their monarch’s word is law. he – male, faster, stronger – wants to see you. unharmed and willing – otherwise she would have knocked you out and dragged you to him.

blink and your thoughts are clear and your mind wary. you gesture to your pasta with your fork.

“mind if i finish this?”

exasperation flashes in her eyes.

“do go on. we have all night.”

you don’t. she’s tense, in a way that has nothing to do with rigor mortis. her fingers dig in the skin of her bicep, hard. her claws leave small indents. they don’t draw blood. vampires can harm their own flesh. good to know .

your plate is half-finished. you take your time. mouthful after mouthful, eating quietly, mind running faster than light. you hum to yourself, adding a bit of parmesan cheese.

“what’s next?”

she looks at you. her eyes are red. you want to claw out your own, reach under the glassy orbs of your half mask, shatter them and dig to forget that sight.

“the world will be ours.”

you hum. twirl your fork around, the spaghetti wrapping around it.

“i assume we’ll be used as cattle.”

she grins.

“clever girl.”

you stand. wash your plate. place it in the dish rack. stroke your cat’s fur absently. as you bury your face in his fur, nuzzling his head, you have the sinking feeling you’re not going to see him for a good long while. diana rolls her eyes.

“ sentiment .” it sounds like a curse. “come, now. you’ve made him wait enough–”

she chokes on your blade. four others join, sinking in undead flesh, pinning her to the wall. you creep closer, stake in hand.

“haven’t you heard? the stakes are high.”

you’re about to sink the stake in her heart when you’re seized in a flash of brilliant green - green lantern. you snarl. he laughs.

“can’t believe she gave you trouble. why didn’t you restrain her arms?”

you don’t need your arms to spit in his face. and you laugh and laugh when it does land.

crack. your head slams against the wall. when diana grabs you by the hair, you’re grinning, all sharp teeth and bloody gums.

“careful. not sure you king would want me harmed.”

diana prowls towards them, enticing, a charming lilt to her voice. they come in peace, she says, making no move for her weapon. you doubt you’d see her move if she did. then again, as she is now, she is the weapon.

they track down batman and his bats to an empty warehouse. you see it. the thrill of the chase. how one drop of his blood leads them straight to him, shark-fast. the realisation sinks into you harsher than green lantern’s claws do.

you never stood a chance.

you shift in his grip with a groan. right shoulder dislocated. bruised ribs. you’ll get to live until you’re brought before their king.

you catch sight of dick and your shoulders sag in relief. he’s unharmed. you shift. you just need hal to break focus before you strike–

“unhand her,” dick growls, fist tightening around one escrima stick, electricity crackling in the air. “ now. ”

green lantern grins. you’re all but thrown into dick’s chest. you hiss, your shoulder aching as you meet the warmth of him. his arms wrap around you, his lips brushing your forehead, where blood slowly dries from where you’ve been thrown against the wall of your own living room. you hear a low rumble in his chest and melt a little, nevermind the two vampires waiting with bated breath.

a soft whisper as dick steadies you, fingers wrapped firmly around your arm.

“are you all right, crow?”

you wince, drawing a sharp breath as the motion jostles your shoulder in its socket. it snaps back in place with a sickening crack.

“peachy.”

green lantern has been weaving sweet promises, stepping closer to batman. barry’s death? an accident . that absolute bastard.

“think of all you could accomplish as a human, as a god,” he says, the green lantern suit a mockery of what his corps stand for. “all you could do for humankind and vampirekind.”

oh, and he’s awfully tempting about it. batman is a symbol wrapped in mortal flesh. bruce would need a successor to uphold his mission. but this? them ? they could grant him an immortality spent helping . no more aging. no more worrying about who would take the cowl.

(you won’t have to hold dick together as he takes himself apart donning that blasted mantle. being batman hadn’t done him good. you saw it in his eyes, the light slowly dimming, that perpetual frown.)

batman shifts in his gait.

“no.”

all hell breaks loose. they’re fast . but you’ve managed to catch diana off-guard – look at you, innocent and relaxed, boa constrictor on the loose, ready to pounce and kill.

blood.

it’s over.

you’re done fighting for your life, the two vampires burning away courtesy of a trap laid by batman’s handywork. hal is the first to go, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. diana’s screaming. one moment you let out a relieved breath as batman answers his com. the next, you watch as his chest bursts open, an open palm cradling his heart. he falls.

and dick is laughing. he laughs and laughs, head thrown back, beautiful and terrible as he tosses bruce’s still-beating heart aside, blood dripping down his fingers, fangs glinting sharp. he brings his bloodsoaked fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick the blood. it drips down his plush lips, down his chin, trickles down to his adam apple.

your own heart is beating out of your chest, an erratic little rhythm. fight. flight.

freeze.

he leers at his mentor’s corpse, lips stretched in a lazy grin, head thrown back, heady with power.

“i wish i could have turned you, but even if i had, i still never could have trusted you.”

black bat’s scream breaks your heart.

(the cold barrel of a gun pressed against your head. your sister staring you down, green eyes cold, hair the shade of your blood.

“they will put you down like a dog if you don’t fight.”)

you throw yourself in the fray.

it’s a slaughterhouse, diana shattering your wrist, sending your stake flying, red robin’s skull crushed on the ground, black bat lays limp and broken, and damian – fangs sink in his neck and you watch as dick feasts . a sick warmth settles in your core. you blame it on the fury boiling hot in your veins.

“go, hood,” you bark, blocking one of diana’s strikes, feather-blade slashing through the tendons of her wrist, talos’ law. “take cass to green arrow.”

doesn’t matter if you fight, spider shedding out her crow husk, you will die here, because if dick has no mercy for his brother, he won’t have any to spare for you. damian gurgles weakly on the ground, and you watch as dick slices his wrist with his fangs and let the blood pour in his gaping mouth.

jason slips something in your hand. a flashbang. you smirk.

“don’t die.”

“will do. now go! ”

red hood does. falls back with green arrow and alfred, black bat’s unconscious body cradled in his arms. he shoots you a glance as you narrowly evade diana’s claws, the sharpness of them drawing a fine streak of blood on your cheek.

and then it’s only you, him and the sharp, sharp edge of your blade.

his hand brushes your shoulder, the dislocated one. fingers firmly clamping down on it. you scream, head thrown back. his nose meets your skull, cracks. he’s laughing, a low chuckle that has his chest rumbling behind your back. he pulls you close, arms wrapped around your waist, nose brushing the crook of your neck.

“give up,” he purrs. “i was always better than them, and now i’m god-like.”

you squirm, black dancing at the edges of your vision, pain eating away at your consciousness, sharp and vicious. you can’t use your left arm. fuck .

think. you’re not dead yet. he doesn’t want you dead.

you need time. you need to get damian out of here. the simplest plans are the best, so you tilt your head back, revealing a sliver of your neck, the thin crimson stripe on your cheek. dick hums, craning back your neck until it’s just short of painful. your mask is cracking, revealing one bloodied eye, half-lidded.

(“spin your web.”)

“are you in need of worshippers, my king?” you breathe, low and croaked.

his grip tightens on your hip, spinning you around in a mock waltz until you’re facing him, your hand splaying on his torso, the kevlar still soaked from bruce’s blood. he laughs, low and so very pleased. you think you’ve never seen something as beautiful as he is now, dark and bloody and terrible, cradling you against his sharp edges like something infinitely precious.

“i need a queen.”

his tongue laps at your cheek. your breath hitches, fingers flexing by your side, and you melt against him, a warm little puddle of desire, finding safety in the wolf-maw of your demise. he shudders against you, lips pressed against your skin, fingers digging in the meat of your hips.

you reach for him. he obliges, mouth slotting against yours, hot and heavy. you taste blood. damian’s. bruce’s. yours. he nips at your lip and you let out a startled little gasp, desperate for purchase, something to ground yourself with. you find only him, so you cup the back of his neck. his tongue slips in your mouth, and he moans at the taste of you, pulling you closer, closer…

you want to drown in him you realise. you want him to ruin you.

for you, he’ll have mercy.

he grunts, staggers back, surprised. there’s a dagger protruding from his chest. miséricorde. you’re already by damian when diana makes a move for you. a bang. a flash.

they topple seats of power. the white house, blasted away by the last son of krypton. they burn the life-giving forests and jungles to the ground.

when the vampire king opens his eyes; you’re gone.

they kill the sun so there’s no dawn for justice.

the war is over before it even has time to begin.

you part ways with jason and damian.

“he will want his brothers by his side.” you sigh, leaning back against a beaten down alleyway in a no-name city. “might as well make the chase trickier for him.”

damian frowns; eyes redder than the lifeblood he’s lost.

“what of you?”

you smile, rueful.

dick circles you; steps silent on the floor of the beaten down warehouse you call your refuge. the nightwing suit is still soaked in his father’s blood.

“he wants a queen.”

his eyes are red. you want to weep

“why so sad?” he croons. “i’m here, am i not?”

he tilts your chin with one long finger. these damned fingerstripes have your mouth watering, even now. something tells you he knows it. relishes it. he shouldn’t be so warm. not when his heart is decaying in his ribcage. his nose brushes yours, his smile softening by a fraction.

“join me, darling.”

your heart skips a beat at the pet name. you remain stubbornly silent.

his fangs lightly graze your neck, his breath warm on your skin. a low chuckle. you despise him, he knows. yet… yet here you are. bloody, bruised, leaning into his touch like you used to after patrol, when he was the one to patch you up in his flat, fingers lingering on your nape, your shoulders, your collarbones. days long gone.

“come on…” he purrs. “don’t make me beg.”

you reel back. wrench yourself from his embrace with a quiet desperation that surprises even you. he’s a threat. you must kill him. this is no different than any of the contracts you’ve ever had.

“ stop ,” you beg.

he raises an eyebrow.

“why should i? you’ve missed me. ached for me. have done so for years.” he leans closer, words sharper than the blade strapped to your thigh. “don’t think i didn’t feel your eyes on me when i was with babs.”

you growl.

“you killed her. killed them all. why? ”

he shrugs, the movement impossibly fluid.

“as much as i longed for our family to reign by my side, i would never have been able to trust them.”

“what makes you think you can trust me?”

he laughs at that. low and warm and rich, in all ways dick grayson but not. not quite. he prowls closer to you, cornering you until you’re pressed up against the wall. he’s warm and broad and you’ve missed him. there’s an edge to him, finally bare to the world, one you’ve only seen when you first met him when he was working under slade. you might get cut. maybe you want to bleed for him.

your fingers dig in his hair, impossibly soft under your skin. you bury your nose in his neck, where his pulse should be, and find none. you let out a trembling sigh.

“i hate you.”

dick tilts his head, dark locks brushing your cheek. his lips are inches away from yours. you feel the ghost of a smile on your mouth.

“you’ll come around.”

you wake up in cold sweat with the phantom warmth of his lips on yours. dread settles in your core. something’s wrong. years of training kick in – breathe in; out; focus on your heart, settle for a metronome pulse to hide your fear. the air bears the scent of decay and everything rotten; an all-consuming wrongness seeping in earth’s core.

you’re surrounded. there may be many of them, there may only be one – him – doesn’t matter. you won’t be able to escape without them noticing. you’re trapped.

all exits are blocked. you didn’t have the time to dig an escape tunnel. hiding is not an option. you’re down to three stakes. half the steel feathers on your suits are gone – lost to the fray. your head is spinning from lack of proper food, your hands stained with cracked blood – yours and that of the few vampires stupid enough to cross you.

you rise.

“come in, i know you’re here.”

a blade at your throat. long; sharp and thin.

“you’re coming with me.” he smiles down at you, almost tender. "my queen."

he doesn’t turn you. doesn’t force you to sink your teeth in him the way he’d do to you. doesn’t force you to consume the lifeblood of him, to consume him. no, he holds the blade above your heart with a predatory nonchalance. you’re frozen, his torso pressed against your back, arm tightly wrapped around your waist.