#zeno smut

[bwabys-scenarios]

how do you think the zoldyck family would react seeing how killua and (name) act with each other in fixer upper?

like him calling her mom, etc

This is actually a pretty helpful question, because they will be meeting with his family in the future!

Silva: sees this as an opportunity to use you to bring Killua home. when you don’t accept his gifts and money in exchange for convincing killua to come home, he gets a little pissed.

Kikyo: Oh she loathes you. Her precious baby is calling you mom, clinging to you for comfort!? If Silva would allow it, you would be dead already

Zeno: He’s one of the more normal people, and sees you a kind and nurturing person. He knows that killua loves you dearly, and would break if you were to get hurt

Illumi: at first, he is similar to Silva in seeing you as a way to bring Killua home. He asks you out on a date to try and woo you. If he has your heart, he’ll also have killua in the palm of his hand. But… you’re kind. He sees how much you genuinely love and care for Killua and… it makes him feel a certain way. He’s never seen someone care for another in such a way. Illumi thinks he’s fallen in love at first, and follows you around for a bit, but he actually sees you as a mother figure

Kalluto: Honestly he’s a bit jealous of Killua. He wants that same motherly love, to have someone protect and nurture him. Maybe in the future you’re able to do just that for him!

Milluki: thinks you’re attractive, but doesn’t really care much besides that

Alluka: you’re like her big sister! she always clings to you when she visits, tugging on your sleeve and giggling as she clings to you!

[watanabes-cum-dump]

Official FFXIV men oral game ranking

no i will not elaborate

[pavus]

i know we've got a few days left before new years, but my 2024 resolution is writing more smut. like, 2024 is the year that i let myself be absolutely unhinged and filthy again.

[amoebaforce]

I'm sorry for this but I need Emet Selch, Thancred, and Zenos to get pegged 😩. None of them are tops and you can fight me on this 😳.

anon, don't apologize. if anything, this was a stroke of genius on your part.

please enjoy my contribution to the Pegging Broody Men community. everything under the cut this time!

characters featured: Emet-Selch, Thancred Waters, Zenos yae Galvus tags: NSFW (mdni), anal sex, pegging, fingering, lube, use of a strap-on, gn!WoL (but I guess implied to be AFAB?)

Emet-Selch

Hear me out, but… a civilization like the Ancients’ would be devoid of sexual prejudice, right? Like, they probably wouldn’t even label sexualities the way modern peoples do. Therefore… Emet has definitely bottomed before, yes?

So, when the WoL brings it up, he hardly bats an eye. “I didn’t take you for the type, darling, but if you want to try something new, who am I to deny you?” The Warrior didn’t think it’d be that easy, but they’re certainly not gonna complain.

Emet is almost completely shameless when it comes to bodies, his included. To him, it is merely a vessel for a soul, and he’s only in the shape of a Hyur right now for convenience’s sake. He’ll put himself in any position that makes it easier for the WoL.

He’s not shy about preparing himself for them, either. Emet urges their hands into place, one working his cock while the other pumps two lubed fingers in and out of him. His cheeks flush pink with arousal, and he moans softly as the WoL takes control. They look so beautiful as they watch his body respond to theirs — their eyes half-lidded, lips parted with desire. 

It’s intoxicating. Need blazes through him, casting a pleasant haze over his senses. When the Warrior finally slides their toy into him, Emet can’t help but groan at the wave of relief their intrusion brings. His hips roll in time with theirs, bringing their two selves closer and closer, until they run out of room and Emet can pull their face down to his. 

The kiss he gives them is impossibly tender. The WoL closes their eyes as they thrust, deep and slow and deliberate, and Emet moans into their mouth. He feels like he needs something to hold onto, else he might float away, and his grasping hands find the WoL’s shoulders. 

How are they so good at this? Emet wonders absently. Plucking my chords like a bard on a harp… As if we’ve done this before. He stifles a whine at the sensation of their toy dragging along his inner walls. Emet decides the Warrior has been holding out on him, and he’s suddenly very determined to change that.

The Warrior knows he’s getting close when his breaths go choppy and his quiet gasps pitch even higher. They twist their wrist as they stroke his twitching length, squeezing him just the way they know he likes. Emet throws his head back. He grits his teeth as his entire body clenches, then cries out as the first wave of his climax hits. 

His hands are vices on the WoL’s flesh until he’s done coming. When they go limp and fall away, ten little red marks linger as evidence of his presence, and the Warrior brushes some hair from Emet’s forehead. “Are you okay?” they ask, sounding a little sheepish. Emet laughs weakly. “Spectacular, darling,” he drawls, lips curling into a smirk.

Thancred

He definitely considers himself a “try anything once” kind of guy, and this would be no exception… although, it does make him a little shy to think that the WoL has been picturing him in such a compromising position.

They’ll have to start slow. The WoL lays him on his back and kneels between his thighs, taking their time as they kiss and nip at him. It’s a role reversal that spins Thancred’s head, encouraging him to surrender to the sensations. Before long, he’s melting in their hands — moaning, sighing, already coming apart.

Once the WoL’s hands wander to the lube, he suddenly remembers what’s happening and blushes furiously. He’s worked up and sensitive, and even the gentlest introductory touches have him moaning and biting his lip. When he’s ready for their fingers, the slow insertion drags a whimper up his throat. He screws his eyes shut.

The WoL kisses Thancred’s throat and murmurs praises into his skin as they add another finger, then another. He’s panting and twitching under them when they inform him he could take their strap now, if he wanted to. His desperate nods and unintelligible pleas are confirmation enough.

The shattered moan he utters when the tip of the toy pushes into him is sublime. The WoL has never heard Thancred so undone, and it stirs a hungry need within them. They’re careful as they work their strap deeper, slowly rolling their hips until they bottom out inside of him. Once they feel him relax, their pace picks up a little speed.

His toes are curling, his chest is heaving, his body is bucking. “Please touch me,” he begs, and the Warrior smiles as they oblige. Their hand wraps around his achingly hard length, purposefully ignored until now, and Thancred practically wails as his orgasm crashes down upon him. 

His writhing doesn’t end for almost a minute, and when it’s done, his entire chest is splattered with his release. Thancred groans and reaches up to cover his burning face; he didn’t expect to enjoy himself quite so vividly. He’ll be red for the next few hours.

Zenos

Definition of a power bottom!!! Even in canon, this man is hot and bothered about the WoL dominating him every time they see each other!!!

Zenos doesn’t have a lot of hands-on experience (he was very isolated until recently), but he knows what he likes, and what he likes is the WoL. He’d let them do all manner of things to him in the name of testing each other’s boundaries or sharing an intimate experience.

He’s almost too impatient as they work their way through foreplay, and things quickly escalate until he’s on his stomach underneath the Warrior, hips angled up and knees spread, grumbling as he waits for them to finish lubricating everything.

“You said you wanted to fuck me for a change, hero,” Zenos says defiantly. “Why don’t you get to it already?” Oh, they are so going to make him eat those words. The WoL doesn’t say a thing — just lines the toy up to his entrance and pushes the first third of its length inside.

He’s been (begrudgingly) prepared enough that the stretch is manageable, but he can’t stop himself from choking out a gasp and gripping the edge of his bed. His body pulses, cock twitching against his stomach. Zenos bucks and swears as the Warrior pulls back an inch, then pushes in two. Again and again.

They worry for a second that it’s too much, based on the amount of noise Zenos is making, but he doesn’t say the safe word. Instead, when they slow down to assess his comfort, he casts a glower over his shoulder. “Don’t you dare stop,” he hisses.

The Warrior laughs and slaps his ass playfully, earning another gasp, then resumes their pace. Zenos moans deeply when they finally crash their hips against his. The toy’s tip finds something incredibly sensitive inside him. He shudders as his back arches, hands clawing at the linens. 

The rocking of their entangled bodies has been grinding his cock against the bed, and he’s already close to the edge. Still the WoL fucks him, unrelenting, hands migrating to his shoulders to better pin down his writhing form. Zenos feels completely at their mercy as they pound him, and the idea sends him toppling. 

He makes a loud, open-mouthed noise as he comes, spilling all over himself and the sheets. Zenos’ eyes roll back, his jaw slackens, and his body buckles with exertion. The Warrior feels his legs shaking against theirs. They start to pull out, telling him how pretty he looked coming for them, but he lifts his head.

“We’re not done,” Zenos pants. “Do that again.”

[writerman]

If I wrote a Zenos oneshot/fic what would you want to see in it?

[eternalchant]

me when I write fics but don't promote them ever anywhere

[calowlmitygoddess]

i kinda wish i could find the first ffxiv fic i ever read before i got into the game, but it was like four years ago, during a random dive on the dead dove do not eat tag i wanna see how much worse it hits now that i have proper context

[yangus]

i wish tumblr wouldnt let me know if someone used my gif in a post. i do not care. i have seen so much insane shit bc of this i dont care if anyone reposts my gifs anymore like. 

[ripdragonbeans]

I'm Bean and I'm back to writing!

I mainly write Aemond and Aegon II but I'm open to the possibility of other characters! I also do better with modern aus but I've dabbled a bit with canon era and it's been decent lol

+18 MDNI

REQUESTS ARE OPEN (limit to 1-5 sentences)

Masterlist under the cut

Fics

🥵 = smut // 😢 = hurt/comfort // ☺️ = fluff // 😡 = Angst

Run Away With Me (modern!Aemond) ☺️

Don't Do It (Dad!Aegon and daughter OC) 😢

Take Your Pick (SugarDaddy!Aegon) 🥵

Mine (modern!Aemond) 😢☺️

Painful Reality (modern!Aemond) 😢

A Night Out (modern!Aegon) 🥵☺️

Look At Me (modern!Aegon) 🥵 😡 😢

Shakespeare In Love (modern!Aemond) 😊🥵

Can I Move In? (modern!Aemond, side best friends Aegon) ☺️🥵

All Mine (canon Darkish!Aemond) 🥵

To Whatever End (ACOTAR AU HighLord!Aemond) 🥵😡

I Choose You (modern!Aemond) 😥☺️🥵

Through The Worst (modern!Aemond) ☺️🥵😡

Not Him, I Swear (modern!Aegon, WIP)

Part 1 || Part 2

Zeno's Paradox (modern!Aemond) ☺️😢🥵 light😡

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

You Win (modern!Aemond) 🥵😡

Part 2

Epilogue

The Boy (Canon Era) 😡

Headcanons

Karaoke (Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, Jace)

Mother's Day (Focus on Rhanerya and Alicent separately // Daemon, Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, Jace, Luke)

How They Apologize (Aegon, Aemond, Jace)

FNAF Animatronics (CRACK 😂)

Cats The Musical (CRACK 😂)

Other Fandoms

Dad!Michael Gavey Headcanons (Saltburn)

Drabbles

- Aegon II needs love (canon era)

[watanabes-cum-dump]

Kou's AO3 ffxiv fic rec list

I am so insane and I literally have only been reading FFXIV fanfics for like the past four or so months so here r some of my favorites

I will split it up into three categories: reader inserts, WoL OCs, and then yk fics with only the characters.

WARNING: I read lots of unsavory shit so please heed the tags in the links as I will not be going over those in this list.

*length of fics will be rounded to nearest thousand

Reader insert's

The Rise of Emperor Solus zos Galvus by amandaterasu

(Emet Selch x reader) Length: 25k Status: Complete (one shot) Review: You don't understand I think about this fic at least once a day oh my fucking LORD. 25k words just GONE in an instant I read this in like under an hour. Actually gigging and kicking my feet this shit bro liiiiiike the way this author writes Emet Selch... ouuuuughhh. I love it when a man is just so insane for his woman that he finds her in another life and immediately starts courting her. Honestly, this shit is just so good it reads almost like a historical drama in the best ways possible. Yeah it's romance (and smut) but it's also politics (kinda) and idk about you but those are my two favorite things. I now need a full length novel about Emet Selch's rise to emperor of Garlemald but yk what this shit is just as good. Bonus points for this author for introducing me to fanfic reading extensions to replace certain terms I will be using this from now on.

Tremble, Duck, & Weave by OwlEspresso

(Estinien, Aymeric, Haurchefant, Urianger x reader) Length: 31k Status: Incomplete Review: This inspired my current big project, Hellbound and yeah idk something about Ishgardian politics man. I'm gonna warn you right now a lot of these reader insert recs WILL be yandere/yandere-adjacent with a lot of unhealthy themes, general debauchery, and doves ranging from beaten to dead so uh... yeah. That aside, this is just a really fun time. Seeing everyone interact with the reader insert and all the different ways they show (or think about) their twisted affections... hnnnng it makes me a little insane okay. Also, shout out to pervert Haurchefant you will always be near and dear to my heart. We were ROBBED in the English translation

Captivate by samsaur

(Aymeric and Estinien x reader) Length: 41k Status: Incomplete Review: Remember what I said about doves ranging from being beaten up to dead? Well, the dove is definitely dead here, but it's rlly juicy because this shit really does feel like a horror story. I am not qualified to speak on it, but I think this is a great portrayal of Stockholm syndrome and the way it's written really puts you into the shoes of the reader insert and you kind of feel that hot and silent shame of being held captive like this. Also, one of my favorite niches of FFXIV fanfics is apparently villain Aymeric. Idk why but he is so good as a villain probably because he had every single reason to turn out one, and he would be a far more terrifying villain than Thordan. If Aymeric wasn't our ally during Heavensward, he would undoubtedly be a huge threat to us and this fic kinda takes that and dangles it over your head. Because, yes, Aymeric is holding the reader captive but he is also helping Alphinaud and Tataru out. It's this balancing act where we know Aymeric is capable of really fucked up things but he is still playing at the perfect image of our noble ally. You find yourself yelling at everyone else not to trust him because you, the reader and his captive, know that he is a piece of shit in this AU and I think it's glorious. Uhhh Estinien is there too ig. It's no fault on the author's part but I just don't really vibe with Estinien as a love interest. Though, his dynamic with Aymeric and the reader is extremely interesting to me. I can't say too much without spoiling all the fun, but I think in a way Aymeric has him trapped under this thumb too.

I'd Ask For Your Soul, But It's Already Mine by Dotharl

(Zenos x reader) Length: 29k Status: Incomplete Review: Guys it's fucking Zenos PLEASE read the tags on this one. Anyways I love my porn kjakjfjkjakhshjfjhk. Okay but genuinely I always say this, but Zenos is surprisingly genuine as a love interest because he doesn't put WoL up on a pedestal and just loves them for all of their worst bits and THAT is the appeal of enemies to lovers. This fic plays with that, especially with the reader insert being a Dark Knight WoL where Fray talks some sense into them and helps them recognize their self worth. I won't lie to you, this fic starts out with VERY fucked up Yandere fuckboy Zenos energy with all of the dubcon included, but I kinda don't care + it's just genuinely well written at times. The dynamic between WoL and Zenos is very nice here, bc yeah it starts out... like that and then it evolves into mutual respect when the reader realizes that Zenos would treat them well and not yk use them as a weapon. Albeit, it does go kind of quick but eh, it's like 4 chapters so I can't fault the author THAT much. Besides, not to diminish the fic, but it IS pretty clearly just kind of a pornfest and that is A-Okay with me! This shit was also last updated in like 2022 so I'm pretty sure it's abandoned.

Not a Champion, Just a Knight by Kei_Cordelle

(Haurchefant x reader)

Length: 23k Status: Incomplete Review: This one is in kind of a weird position because this is an AU where WoL dies at the Vault instead of Haurchefant, so there isn't exactly any HaurcheWoL action to speak of. But, WoL definitely haunts the characters' actions. Bro, when I tell you, the worst part of this fic is actually Alphinaud being very NOT OKAY bc WoL is dead. He is just a baby what the fuck do you mean he watched his friend, confidant, and hero die in front of him???? Yeah sorry I love Alphinaud a normal amount. (that is my SON) Anyways, this is written in first person which is weirdly a turn off for some people? I don't get the hate tbh, because first person just opens up so many fun opportunities! You can break the fourth wall much easier and directly address the reader, and you can also have the vibe that this is a retrospective of what the character saw. The later is definitely the vibe this fic gives. It's like, if the Heavensward memoir was written from Haurche's perspective in this AU. To me, I like to think that this fic is Haurchefant telling the tale of his greatest love and regret in writing. I feel like the action scenes could use some work but they're not terrible. It's just that they're literally one to one recounting of the Heavensward trials and it's just not the best. I think there's also the issue of the cast becoming slightly bloated so it is a bit rough to account for everyone's actions during fight sequences. I really do love this fic though because I think it's really interesting to see how everyone is unraveling. Obviously, we as the WoL take on a lot of things that are almost impossible for everyone else so to see them take on the monumental burden of the hero is very interesting. How would our companions react to certain things? Since during most trials in canon we take it on alone, how does everyone else fit in? Are they all doing the mechanics correctly? All in all, solid fic and I am holding out hope for that fated final fifth chapter since the last time it was updated was back in January and it was started back in 2022 so one day I hope that this will be complete and I get to see the final mental breakdown as the squad completes Heavensward with the legacy of WoL looming over them ✨

WoL OC Inserts

Coerthan Traitor by Cascanora (@cascanora here on Tumblr)

(Zenos x OC, a bit of typical Emet Selch and Azem reincarnation messiness) Length: 190k (GOD DAMN-) Status: Ongoing Review: The author of this fic is highkey like a celebrity to me bc I gobble up their art like it's fucking Christmas morning. Imagine being God's favorite and being blessed with the ability to draw AND WRITE??? Fucking insanity bro. Also, their OC, Crow is fine as hell like one chance ma'am pleeeeeeaaaaaseeee goddddddd- Anyways onto the actual fic, I am admittedly only on the first arc which is kind of like the childhood arc ig. But I really love it so far because I've just never seen anyone really write Zenos being kind of young and vulnerable and playful? That's a lie, I think I've read like one Zenos fluff that I'll have to dig through my AO3 history to find again (bc you'd best believe none of my bookmarks are fluffly...) so I just really like the change of pace. Zenos is obviously always put in more enemies to lovers type scenarios so I kinda like this different angle because yeah maybe he was something resembling normal at one point. Obviously he's very fucked up for a reason, but he was a kid too. He didn't always go off about biting jugulars and drinking blood or something, he got fucked up. I am so far absolutely living for a lot of the political stuff bc as I've said before, romance with a side of politics (or vice versa) is my cup of tea and nobody pulls this shit off better than fanfic authors. I'm really interested to see where the political stuff goes but it's like 2am (sheesh) as I'm writing this so I will have to delve further into this fic later. Anyways can I take a moment to talk about Crow and Zenos? Because they're so fucking cute I love themmmmm. I feel like I'm coming at this as someone who has seen a lot of Cascanora's art so I see when Crow and Zenos' relationship develop into when they're adults, so seeing the early stages of it is really cool to me. I don't quite know how to explain it? But anyways I am raving about this fic bc I think it just builds them both up so well and again, I don't see Zenos written to be playful and yk act his age the way he does around Crow. They just work together so well and while at the point of the story I'm at they're definitely just friends, I think that's the beautiful thing about friends to lovers. Regardless if it's romantic or platonic love, Zenos and Crow are a package deal. Also, Emet Selch/Solus in this fic is perfect. I LOVE my geriatric old man telling stories about his past. I would go off about how I am very captivated by the whole Galvus family dynamic but I will save that for the other fics bc this review section is already super fucking long and you had BEST BELIEVE I'm scouring the internet for Galvus family fics. I lied I will talk about this a little more because this strikes an odd chord with me as someone who wrote a lot of my own longform OC x Canon growing up. I kinda shamed myself off doing that kinda stuff as I got older, but diving into FFXIV where everyone becomes fucking Shakespear with their WoLs has made me let go of my fears of being a cringefailure and embrace the OC x Canon. To see really well written and thought out OC insert stuff is very comforting to me bc I often worry abt my own OCs being shitty and not really fitting in but fics like this assure me that hey, maybe I can make cool shit and that really is the most beautiful part of fanfiction and fandom in general. Fandom is this incredible loop of finding amazing shit and thinking "wow, I wanna do that too" and it's just really rewarding.

Save the Last Dance For Me by lalahganaja

(Alphinaud x WoL OC) Length: 11k Status: Complete (yatta!!!!) Review: ALPHINAUD MY BEAUTIFUL SONNNNN AAAAAAAARRRGGHHHSJGFKJGSGKHJHJF. This fic is so delightful bc it feels like I'm cheering on my children to kiss. A'tahja is so fucking precious and her and Alphinaud just bounce off each other so well. This fic also has the other Scions making an appearance and I fucking love it so much. Found family will never NOT make me absolutely batshit insane. Like yes, Y'shtola mamma cat <3 anyways *chews on Alphinaud and A'tahja* This is just so insanely fluffy and it made me slam my desk every few minutes bc cute teenage love story!!!! How can I not!!!! Alphinaud just acts like an adult a lot of the time and gets put in a lot of adult situations, but in this fic he just gets to be a little guy. A'tahja too, obviously as the WoL she's often off doing insane shit that no teenager should ever have to do and bearing burdens that are too much for a little skrunkly such as herself. But here they just get to be silly little kiddies who are very down bad for each other and it's adorable. I think another thing I really liked was A'tahja getting more in touch with her femininity? Idk how to put. But basically she had really short hair for most of her life bc she pretended to be a boy while in poverty, so to see her be A) pampered and B) learn to take care of herself and be more girly was super cute to see. Also, I am just always really surprised whenever I remember that Alphinaud can drink lmao. Like no, you are a baby (I was the same age as Alphinaud when I started playing this game) put the beer down and go sip on a capri sun or smth. God. Kids these days...

Canon character fics (?)

and i'm your clone, your strange creation by egg(strwpup)

(Fortemps familial angst from Artoirel's pov) Length: 6k Status: Complete (oneshot) Listen to me, I love this fic beyond words, but for the sake of my mental health I will NEVER read this shit again. My daddy issues go fucking DEEP like this is utter insanity. Don't get me wrong it is beautifully written and I love complicated family dynamics- but by god this fucked me up so bad. See, I like to personally believe that Edmont was a good, albeit flawed father but his sons know that he loves them and they love him in turn. But I know deep down in my heart of hearts that it is so much more complicated than that because you know, we can't have nice things here at Square Enix. It just personally fucks me up because I too, like Artoirel in this fic, am a momma's boy at heart and I... kinda hate my dad lmao. Basically, I kin Artoirel in this fic. Oldest child who has it out for my father + hates that I'm kinda like him. He loves his mother but holds contempt for his father, perhaps unfairly but can you blame him? (yeah I'm not only describing Artoirel here...) Edmont is a less than stellar father in this fic but you can tell he loves his kids and aaaaaaaaa I'm tearing up again. The complicated family dynamics + the drama of what happened in Heavensward is just so fucking delicious bro. 10/10 this fic destroyed me in every sense of the word and I do not want to go through that emotional reckoning again. However, I will be writing Edmont as a shitty dad in my fics now. Sorry but I am always just so insane for that sweet sweet eldest child and father dynamic because it's always so disastrous. Having parents is just so strange.

mon corps, le mien; mon coeur, le tien by steelthighsvoideyes

(Aymeric x Haurchefant x Estinien with a side of angst + Haurchefant survives the Vault AU) Length: 43k Status: Incomplete Review: I also started tearing up while writing this review because Haurchefant just does that to me okay? I feel like with a lot of Ishgard trio ship fics Haurche is always kind of left out? Or, he feels a bit tacked on to the Estimeric dynamic. That, or he's just sitting there with unrequited love bc clearly this man has not suffered enough. With this fic however, it definitely feels a lot more balanced. Like yeah a majority of the fic is just Haurchefant and Estinien bonding in the hospital, but Aymeric still feels present because of their shared past and how it's constantly being brought up. (in a good way) All three of them get the spotlight so you don't really lean towards one pairing. Romance aside, I really like the Ishgard trio's established dynamic in this fic because they're just guys being dudes. Besties who were in the military together. Like, Aymeric balances the trio out, Haurchefant is the sort of boisterous youngest member and Estinien is gruff and sarcastic and the banter between the three of them just flows so naturally. It's an actual friendship dynamic that serves as a solid foundation for what will hopefully be a romantic dynamic later on. Once again, friends to lovers is so good for this reason because the foundation is already there. You appreciate them as a person and you are aware of their flaws from the get-go, so when it turns romantic you skip a lot of the awkward exploration phase and can just be comfortable with each other. Anyways as for the crying part- the Fortemps familial drama follows Haurche throughout this fic and it does make me a little, tiny bit crazy. Not gonna spoil it, but the way Haurchefant feels about his family in this fic is just so real and visceral because of course it's super complicated. Once again, I like Edmont being a good dad, but realistically, it's shades of gray. Another thing about Haurchefant that not only this fic does but a lot of other people also head canon, is that his selflessness and willing to give can be self destructive at times. Once again, not gonna spoil, but it's just super heartbreaking to read Haurchefant be almost hypocritical, telling his friends to take care of themselves only for him to almost completely disregard himself. That's kind of what he does at the Vault in the first place, like that man died knowing that he did the right thing and protected his friend and oh god I'm gonna cry again I should stop talking... (I am not even kidding when I say that I will eventually write a Haurchefant character essay...)

Unicorn's Favor by Neyasochi

(Aymeric x Haurchefant x Estinien, yet another Haurche survives the Vault AU) Length: 34k Status: Complete Review: So, this is one of those fics where I feel Haurchefant is kinda just taped onto the Estimeric dynamic, and that's fine, it's whatever, I'm here for the porn and the banter. The premise of this fic is that Haurche helps get Estinien and Aymeric together and then smutty gay things happen. And that's all well and good BUT I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE FORTEMPS BROTHERS IN THIS FIC!!! *holds them gentle* For me, the best part of this fic was Haurchefant's relationship with his family which for a change, is NOT super angsty and complicated. It's all very heartwarming to see how in this fic the brothers get along very well (contrary to canon where unfortunately we know they were never very close) and to see Haurchefant really appreciate that he's still alive and gets to be around the people he loves more. It's just super cute and fluffy and now I just need fics like this in general. Yeah whatever it's not canon that the Fortemps bros actually like each other this much BUT IDC!!!! YOU NEVER SEPERATE TRIOS!!!! Speaking of trios, the Ishgard trio dynamic in this is yk it's fine it's whatever. In this particular fic, I find it quite cute that Haurche had a crush on Aymeric as a kid, so even if they aren't all buddy buddy in this fic there's still that lingering admiration and it's cute. I also completely swear by pansexual Haurchefant bc that man does NOT discriminate. Okay enough abt the French I will talk about the Italians (Romans) now.

Far colder on the earth than in the heavens by Altimas_Bane

(Galvus family things) Length: 7k Status: Complete Review: I told you I love my familial angst. No, I'm NOT okay. It DOES make me absolutely rabid that Emet Selch as Solus couldn't help but have some hope for the sundered because of Lucius because can you fucking imagine that??? Your son who gave you a little bit of hope for the broken, shattered people who replaced your brethren dies and that is the nail in the coffin. That is what makes you fully believe that they are unworthy. It was briefly mentioned in the short story "Through his Eyes", but Emet Selch had a little bit of hope for Lucius, and he was probably distraught when his son died. This fic goes over that agonizing feeling of watching someone slowly waste away from sickness. It is slow, it is painful, and it is gut wrenching. Idk man, just read it.

Son, Father, Emperor by January Blue

(Varis reflecting on his life and especially his relationship with Zenos)

Length: 12k Status: Complete Review: Heyyyyyy do you bitches remember when I said that Varis probably loved Zenos when he was younger but eventually held contempt for the monster he created? You all probably thought I was crazy for reading them like this BUT I'M NOT!!!!! Anyways fatherly angst strikes again (I am in shambles and this fic goes onto the list of fics that I will never read again for the sake of my mental health) LISTEN TO ME AND LISTEN WELL; Varis and Zenos' relationship isn't so black and white. No I'm not defending Varis- but come on the entire Galvus family is fucking crazy man. Anyways, to quote the comment I left on this fic because I do not want to repeat and retype it myself: "Varis, in a lineage of men that are strong, born into the arena that is politics, is WEAK because he is EMOTIONAL. Solus/Emet Selch calls him emotional in the cutscene he was introduced in (unless I'm hallucinating) and that SENT me because I was forced to rethink all of the information we had been shown of Varis until then. I wrote him off as a shallow villain but I did some digging and Varis is surprisingly the most empathetic in the Galvus household and it SHOWS whenever Solus berated him in cutscenes." Varis had emotions, he had morals he had a line that he would not cross. He has been shown to be merciful (when we parlayed with him in the Ghimlyt Dark) and it's known that he at least cared for his late wife, Zenos' mother. Obviously, he would extend that to his son at one point, right? Perhaps when he was still young and unmarked by the world- right???? See, I really like this fic because it frames Varis' absence from Zenos' life as unintentional, but at the same time, it does not absolve him of the fact that he is a terrible father. I don't want to say too much because I would very much like it if YOU, my dearest reader, took as much emotional damage reading this as I did- but I digress. Varis and Zenos' relationship is not as simple as "Varis hates Zenos" there's obviously some shades of gray here. I personally believed that there's no way Varis hated Zenos because Zenos' mother died in childbirth, and clearly, other people think the same. Listen, you don't just hate your own flesh and blood, at least, not from the very beginning. It's a slow process, and I know it in my heart of hearts that Varis regretted what he let happen to Zenos This fic is just so wonderfully written and I was actually kinda bouncing around my room reading this. Once again, major daddy issues, so maybe that's why I like believing that Varis loved Zenos once upon a time. Something, something, father's love their kids until they grow a mind of their own.

And that's my list! In the future as I make my way through fanfics I have marked for later due to spoilers, I might make another one of these because I think people need to read this shit!!!!

If one of your fics is on here please send me an ask so that I might go back and edit this to tag you!

[ta-ni-ya]

🌸Introduction🌸

“He was the wind to her light sun rays that tingles perfectly on your skin, it’s finally spring as their love blooms like the flowers” - 💨🌊

Hello! My name is Taniya but I prefer to be called as Niya

._Just an artist- doing collabs with my bestie @kiyokatokito on my oc x canon ship series where I draw and she writes!

._I usually draw my own ship + my ocs.

._I sometimes open requests for short period of time depending upon my schedule.

._I usually have a ‘requests open’ or ‘requests closed’ on my description and i might also make announcements accordingly

Know more about me from my old introduction post!

🌸Some tiny things I might add🌸

|I’m 16+ (minor, so don’t cross the line)

|🎂 28 April

|She/her

|Cats are love

|Flowers are also love

|I like sparkly things ✨

My persona is here!!! I need it for my birthday so I can post a special art on my day~

🌸✨Appreciation post✨🌸

🌸✨collaborating oc masterlist✨🌸

🌸✨OC introduction✨🌸

(You will definitely get more info about them on my old intro post)

🌸✨old introduction post✨🌸

🌸✨Rp accounts of my ocs✨🌸

@kirikashimizu

@yukitorakiyomi

@haru-aikawa

🌸✨shared account with my lovely kiyo✨🌸

@kiyo-niya

|we might post some nsfw content there like smuts and maybe some 16+ arts so dni with it if you’re not comfortable!

🌸✨requests info✨🌸

Requests: OPEN

✨Current obsession✨- Sanemi Shinazugawa

My all time fav ocs of my mutuals that I simp for here-

~ Kansatoki Hikari @slayfics

~ Catilina Alexandrovich and Hiroyuki Kajiwara @tokito-dulya20

~ Takahiro Shinkirou and Irina Gonshira @shycroissanti

~ Zeno Arakawa and Yuna Handa @kimetsu-chan

I love you all my mooties! - ✨🌸

[agent-cupcake]

Raptus Regaliter

A powerful friend helped me edit this. Fangs to her <3

Pairing:  Zenos yae Galvus x f!Miqo'te WoL Reader

Synopsis: Alternate option for what happens after the cutscenes "The Time Between the Seconds" where you wind up in Imperial custody. Although a more accurate description would be: Zenos beats you up and then fucks you.

Warnings: explicit smut, violence, noncon, blood [lots of blood and violence]

Tags: size difference, choking, forced orgasm

Word Count: 13.1k

Notes: Look I know it's been a long time since I posted but please forgive me I'm giving you Zenos's massive cock as an apology.

There was nothing to make you profoundly regret every single one of your previous decisions like waking up bound, gagged, soaking wet, and with an unreasonably furious headache. Presumably—although you were a bit fuzzy on the details given the whole unconsciousness thing—the latter was from taking the hilt of a sword to the skull. Being wet had come from the bucket of cold water used to shock you awake before your march through what you could only assume was the Imperial-occupied Doma Castle. 

“On your best behavior, savage,” the soldier holding your bound arm growled as he jerked you to an abrupt stop. His voice was twice muffled, once by his helmet and again by the sack pinning your ears flat against your head. In front of you, somebody opened another door.

Handcuffed, woozy, gagged, blind, and stripped of both your armor and your weapons, you had no idea what sort of misbehavior he expected. It was almost more than you could manage to stumble along as he pushed you forward. He released your elbow at the last second, letting you lurch forward and onto your knees. Instinct had your hands flying forward to catch yourself, but the only thing that did was cause the metal cuffs keeping them behind your back to tighten painfully. The smooth, cool marble floor hit hard. Red hot, aching pain radiated from the back of your head all the way down your spine and to your tail, chased upward by the jarring zing of falling onto your knees.

A rough hand on your shoulder jerked you upright and, with an unceremonious whip of canvas, the man pulled the sack off of your head. You squinted into the light, which was blessedly dim, waiting for your eyes to adjust to the sight of the two soldiers. They both wore full sets of armor, devaluing them into nothing more than faceless, nameless instruments of Garlemald. Why they had bothered with the bag in the first place was beyond you, it wasn’t as if you were familiar enough with this place to know your location from just a few halls. Scare tactic? Humiliation? As if being marched through the palace in nothing more than your underclothes wasn’t bad enough. 

“Attempt to escape and your life is forfeit, savage,” the first soldier looming above you said, his hand threateningly resting on his sword. 

“I’d like to see you try,” you said in response, although that’s not what came out around the mouthful of gag. Which was probably for the best. Despite the botched attempt at bravado, you didn’t really mean it. There was a chance you could take them and steal their weapons, but then you’d have to fight your way out of an Imperial infested stronghold without any clue of how to get out wearing nothing other than a tanktop and shorts. 

Rather than respond, both soldiers gave a sharp Imperial salute, looking behind you. 

Oh. 

Knowing, and dreading, what you would find, you hobbled around to look behind yourself. The room wasn’t the torture dungeon you feared, but a lavish space with fine dark marble floor and ornate walls. Details were of little importance, your attention was focused only on the towering figure who stood at the far end with his back to you. Even though he wasn’t wearing his hulking Imperial armor, his size and long blond hair were too distinct for you to mistake him for anyone else.

Zenos. Seeing him triggered a rush of gut-twisting anxiety, fear, and helplessness. It overwrote your discomfort and fatigue entirely. Even shackled and disoriented, you clumsily struggled to get to your feet. Whether you meant to run or to fight, you didn’t know.

“On your knees, savage. You will show respect,” the soldier who had first spoken spat, forcing you back down with an elbow to the stomach and a heavy hand on your shoulder. You hit the floor for a second time with a muffled grunt, your body painfully tense. He cleared his throat, saluting again and raising his voice. “The prisoner, my lord.”

Zenos looked behind himself, giving you a flash of empty blue, before looking away. “Remove her shackles,” he ordered in a bored tone.

“Yes, my lord!” 

The soldier behind you crouched down, pulling out a key. “Try anything,” he warned softly, “and you’ll regret it.” 

You couldn’t see his face, but you could imagine the glare that accompanied the threat. And if it were just the two of them, you might have been formulating a plan of attack for the second you were freed. Surely you could take them. The real trouble stood at the other end of the room. So you swallowed your pride and nodded to show you understood. He unlocked the handcuffs, freeing your hands to pull the gag out of your mouth and toss it aside. Harsh red lines circled your wrists where the metal had cut deep indents into them. 

“I will speak to the prisoner alone,” Zenos said, his back still turned. “See that we are not disturbed.” 

With two more crisp salutes and cries of, “Yes, my lord,” the soldiers fled, sliding the door shut behind themselves.  

As soon as the door was shut, you got to your feet. Zenos remained silent. Utterly motionless, his back to you. The casual dismissiveness was likely meant to flaunt his power, but you were glad for the chance to collect yourself in peace. He couldn’t see you wince as you straightened out and took stock of your body. Everything hurt, at least a little, but your head was the worst of it. 

As the silence dragged on, you waited for Zenos to say something. He didn’t. 

A fear tactic? A test?

Trying not to let it get to you, you focused on your surroundings. The room must have been for religious ceremonies at one point. You were pretty sure the far wall that Zenos was so distracted by, painted and decorated with symbols and iconography of the Doman kami, was a shrine. There were shelves for incense and to hang prayers, although that was all gone. Whatever furniture that might have once given the room comfort had also been removed, leaving it hollow and cold. 

More importantly, the room lacked windows, leaving you unable to guess the time. It made you sick to think that you had been unconscious for very long. Your friends had to have been worried. Or, worse, they hadn’t gotten away. It was all so stupid. You shouldn’t have gone along with Yugiri in the first place, you should have done everything you could to stop her from the suicide mission. Your memories were cloudy and chaotic, but you recalled the fight, and Zenos’s missive, and the rescue. Everything would have been fine, but one of the Imperial soldiers had gone for Yugiri before Gosetsu got to her. You acted thoughtlessly, recklessly. All you got for your so-called heroism was the hilt of a sword to the head. 

Smoothing your hands over your wet hair, and shaking out your ears, you considered how to play this. 

Attacking was out. The room was empty, nothing for you to use as an improvised weapon. There was no way you would be able to win against Zenos in these conditions. Your captors had given you water when you woke up, but it had been at least twelve hours since you’d eaten and your only sleep had been from getting knocked out. It didn’t put you at a disadvantage entirely, but that was only if you were going against normal opponents. Running wasn’t much better. If Zenos had a mind to chase you, you knew firsthand how absurdly fast he could move. 

That meant talking, didn’t it? Or trying to. If you were worth keeping alive and he requested you directly, that meant something. What had Zenos told you the night before? Whatever was meant by the time between the seconds was beyond you, but you understood his command to live. His odd display of sentiment seemed like leverage you could use, if only you knew how.  

If only. 

If Alphinaud were here, he would already have made his opening gambit to argue his way out of this. Estinien would be able to rely on his brute strength and talent to get out of here. Even Thancred would have already rattled off some sarcastic comment or joke to establish his confidence in a situation like this. You weren’t sure what you were meant to do, which approach suited you best. As the silence dragged on, however, you began to think that maybe saying nothing was worse.

“What magnificent creatures could have been given life by the prayers left at this altar, I wonder,” Zenos said, his voice quiet enough that you could barely hear him. “So much power, all wasted.” He sighed. Before you could respond, although you weren’t entirely sure he was talking to you, Zenos turned his head to address you directly. “I am disappointed in you.”

He turned in full, giving you a clear look at him without his helmet or the haze of rain. 

So young. And with his long blond hair, kohl-lined baby blues, and angular features, Zenos possessed a disquieting sort of beauty, almost feminine in harsh contrast with his towering frame and the danger that rolled off of him in nearly tangible waves. While it was true that he was less bulky without the Imperial armor, the slightly more casual—assuming you could call a military coat worn on top of his shoulders like a cape with the sleeves hanging limp behind him casual—outfit only accentuated his figure. For several reasons, you weren’t sure that was a good thing. 

“What?” you asked.

“I allowed you to go free, and yet you attacked like an ill-mannered dog the moment I turned my back, spitting upon the gift of my generosity,” he said. “Had you accepted the opportunity I so graciously offered, you would not be here.” 

You opened your mouth to object before thinking better of it, clenching your fists to ground yourself so you could speak in a more measured tone. “I had no choice.” 

Zenos didn’t visibly react to your answer, considering it with the same cool inscrutability. “You had a choice. You chose incorrectly. But if you are to be here regardless, I see no reason to deny my,” he paused, pulling in a breath through his teeth as he gave you a decidedly uncomfortable once over, “interest in you, hero.”

More aware than ever of your state of undress, nervous flutters battered the inside of your stomach, some intoxicating combination of fear and anticipation. Animal instinct told you to turn around and run no matter the cost, it screamed and scrambled in its panic to get away from him. Twice now he had beat you half to death, and that was while you were armed and rested. But there was another instinct that desperately longed to charge headfirst into the danger, to ease your discomfort through the traditional method. That is, with your fists.

“Did Yugiri… did everybody else escape?” you asked.

Zenos remained silent, his expression giving nothing away. His eyes were really blue. Soft, beautiful blue. And entirely, utterly empty. 

Setting your shoulders, you forced yourself to hold eye contact, to prove that you weren’t afraid. “How long have I been here?” 

More silence, broken only by the sound of Zenos’s footsteps as he began to approach you, walking in an arc rather than directly towards you. Circling like a wolf. All the while, his eyes didn’t waver. Even from across the room, he was physically imposing. 

“Why did you summon me?” you pushed, a hint of desperation in your voice. Fear. You adjusted your stance in an attempt to orient yourself a little better. There really was no comfortable way to stand when you were so underdressed, no way to hide how vulnerable you felt. 

He wasn’t going to answer. That wasn’t how this worked. Zenos yae Galvus wasn’t the type of man who was content to simply talk things out. 

“You want information, right? About the rebellion,” you said, forcing yourself to sound strong. “Well it’s a waste of your time, I won’t tell you anything.” 

At first, you thought he was going to ignore you again. 

“There’s no need for that,” Zenos finally responded, taking another step. His expression remained completely impassive. It gave you the eerie sensation that, even without the helmet, he was still masked. “I do not concern myself with the petty antics of dead men. The savages of this desolate nation will continue to eat their own. I will not interfere unless she fails once more.” 

You took a half step back, pursing your lips as you tried to glean some deeper understanding from his words. “So what do you want from me?” you asked. 

“I mean to quit this wretched place. You will entertain me until my ship arrives.” 

Your stomach flipped nervously, but you ignored the feeling, focusing on the far more pressing matter. “And after that?” 

“I seek a greater prize elsewhere.” 

That wasn’t what you asked, but that meant he intended to leave. Your ears perked up with the slightest bit of hope. “So you’ll let me go?” 

That question sparked some emotion in Zenos’s empty eyes, they met yours with more focus. Curiosity, maybe. “I will not raise a hand to detain you any further, whether or not that means escape is your choice.” 

“Swear it?” 

Zenos didn’t respond, his gaze lowering until you realized it was following the nervous movements of your tail as it twitched back and forth. You froze, forcing it to straighten out with a bitter thought about every time you had been told to get better control over your ears and tail, how easily they betrayed your emotions. That wasn’t normally a problem. 

“How surprising it was to learn that the hero of the savages would be one like you. More beast than woman. Even among the savages, yours is a lowly lot. Feral poachers, whores, and societal outcasts who lack discipline—nay, lack humanity.”

It took extra effort to keep your tail from flicking, but you held your shoulders up and your tail in place, refusing to be ruffled by his insult. Lots of people had echoed similar sentiments, unable to think that a runt Keeper could be any sort of hero. Besides, it was almost flattering that Zenos would bother knowing enough about Miqo’te to insult you in the first place.

Very, very flattering. 

“People tell a lot of stories about your humanity too,” you said in what you hoped was a casual enough tone, even managing a smile. “Good thing we know better, right?” 

Figuring out what he thought about your attempt to catch him off guard was impossible, Zenos’s expression didn’t change. It didn’t seem to anger him. So that was good. Or bad. 

“Well then, my fellow beast, tell me,” he said, “why do you hold yourself back when we fight? I have been told of your exploits, of how you pitilessly slay your enemies without discrimination. And yet, I haven’t had the privilege to face the great warrior who has fought eikons and fell dragons. You are distracted. Reactive. Unfit for a proper fight. What will it take, I wonder, for you to bring your full might and mastery to bear?” 

You frowned before catching yourself, trying to keep your expression composed. As if you didn’t already feel weak and impotent. Even most of your allies weren’t aware of the extent to which the business with the dragons had drained you. Your strength was coming back, but not nearly to where you were before. Every time you thought you were ready to really, truly rejoin the fray, you found yourself lacking. You wanted to think it didn’t bother you but right then, disarmed and weakened and having to crane your neck to look up at the tyrannical horror known as Zenos yae Galvus with the memory of your defeat painfully fresh, it bothered you a lot. 

But you couldn’t let him know that. 

“I can only conclude that I’ve yet to do enough to properly stoke the flames of your outrage,” Zenos said when you didn’t respond. “How fortuitous that your foolish aspirations and my duty conflict so spectacularly. I will steal from you those you wish to protect, raze the land you so pitifully try to defend, and extinguish the flame of rebellion you have lit for the misguided malcontents who think to defy Imperial rule.” With each promise, his voice raised from its calculated drawl with excited fervor. “Such is my mission—as per His Radiance’s wishes. Then, when you are ready to bring your all, you will come to me as a creature driven only by righteous vengeance and unadulterated fury.” 

Zenos exhaled shakily, closing his eyes momentarily as if to calm himself. When they reopened, you were overcome with a fresh flood of icy cold dread. He didn’t look as crazy as his words indicated. There was a very measured sincere sanity to what he told you. That was more frightening than his cruelty, somehow.

“And if I refuse?” you asked. “I’m not the only one with a score to settle.” 

“You are the only one who is worthy,” Zenos told you. “We stand at the precipice of a new era of power. Those who lack the resolve to ascend are but ants beneath my boot. You would feel the same—were you not bound by the manacles of duty.”

A prince lecturing you about the confining nature of duty. It would be funny if you weren’t so uncomfortable. 

“But enough of this talk,” Zenos continued, his voice raising. “Entertain me. Show me the beast whose fury accomplished what so few else have, who bared her fangs when most would consider themselves beaten.”

“What?” you asked, taken aback by the sudden shift. Did he mean for you to attack him? “No, I don’t-” The fist buried in your stomach cut off whatever righteously indignant denial you intended, replacing it with a viscerally low grunt. Zenos held you in place by your shoulder, keeping you from flying away with the force of his attack. Keeping you curled around his arm, unable to even remember how to breathe, your entire body only existing in a state of breathless pain.

“Then I shall draw her out myself,” he said, his low words tinny and distant. 

Zenos pulled his arm back, letting you crumple. You tried to stay on your knees, to maintain a shred of dignity, but you had barely hit the ground before you collapsed sideways. His heavy boot landed on your side, keeping you from getting up. Despite his already unreasonable height advantage over most people, his boots were heeled. Such a cruel, gratuitous choice struck you as almost tragically unfair. The edge of the heel dug into the soft flesh right above your hip, his foot long enough that his toe could put pressure on your ribs. Pressing down just enough to make you squirm, Zenos rocked you back and forth, forcing you to pay attention. If he stepped down with all of his weight, he would crush your insides into nothing more than a sticky mush. Wheezing in pain, you squinted up at him with streaming eyes. From here, he looked half eikon himself. A monstrously tall, malicious being of pure intent. 

“I find torture to be tedious. There is, I allow, some artistry in it, but very little sport,” Zenos said. “To endure the mewling and whining of the weak and defeated is… grating.” 

He kicked you, catching your ribs at a bad angle and sending you rolling away. The world exploded anew, condensed down to nothing more than the agony of where his boot struck. But you recognized, on some level, that he was holding back. He wasn’t trying to break you. More than that, you were durable. That attack might have grievously injured some people, but you were harder to break. Good at taking a beating, you knew that long before you ever took up a weapon, back when the bigger kids would break their hands hitting you before you would give up. Some people had a pretty singing voice or could paint nice pictures, you could survive all manner of fatal beatings. 

Focus on breathing, you reminded yourself. In, and out. Focus on the rapid, thunderous beat of your heart, on the blood pumping through your veins. 

Endure. You could endure this.

“However, I must acknowledge that it has its uses,” Zenos continued. “Pain is a tool, and one that serves me quite well on occasion. After all, it is unjust, is it not? To be subjected to pain and humiliation for no reason other than the pleasure of another—how easily it draws out the truest nature of man, stripping away the unimportant trivialities they cling to in favor of something worthwhile. Stimulating, even beautiful. But it is a delicate thing. Too much, and the prey loses their will to fight. Too little, and they feel no need to retaliate.” 

Gritting your teeth, you got your arms beneath yourself. When he hit you, you’d accidentally bitten down on the soft flesh on the inside of your cheek. You had to spit out a mouthful of blood onto the pristine marble floor, coughing lightly to clear your lungs before wiping your mouth with a shaking hand. Holding back a grimace, you got to your knees, watching Zenos to ensure he didn’t rush you as you unsteadily stood up. 

“I understand you are not inspired by selfish gain—such is the insipid conceit of the dutiful. But now I have seen your potential to rise above your mundane calling. Your facade has slipped, hero. Be it today or another, I mean to strip you of it entirely.” 

His words rolled over you like water, a counter beat to the pounding of your heart, the roar of blood in your ears. You could feel the way energy coursed through your veins, easing all of your petty pains as you considered your next move. This wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t exactly torture either, the expression Zenos wore was too animated, his words shockingly friendly when compared to the way he had spoken to you previously. This meant something else to him.

Finally, you met his eyes, your stomach clenching unpleasantly at the sight. While you had been trying to sort out your thoughts, Zenos had been watching you intently. As predator, as appraiser, and opponent. What was he thinking when he stared at you so intently? You couldn’t even begin to guess. On the one hand, he seemed to be nothing more than a force of evil. On the other, you got the impression that the enjoyment he derived from this was pure. 

“I am surprised you have stayed your hand thus far,” Zenos said. “Is it wisdom? Weakness?”

“Give me a sword and find out.” 

Part of you expected anger, or annoyance. Instead, Zenos smiled. Although the expression mimicked the joy of any other person, his eyes narrowing and lips curling with amusement, it was wrong. Unsettling.  

When he came at you, you were prepared, dodging to the side with the intention to get your back away from the wall. Zenos pivoted to cut you off, his white coat flaring like wings behind him. A hard kick to your shin sent you careening forward. Zenos grabbed you by a fistful of your loose hair, dragging you towards him as you fell. Gravity did the rest, driving his raised knee into your stomach. 

Air burst out of your lungs like bellows, your body going limp. As if you were nothing more than a ragdoll, Zenos raised his leg higher to push you back upward. You saw his fist coming at the last second, reactively dodging and causing it to glance off of your cheekbone. In some ways, your lack of height was beneficial. The awkward angle of his punch pushed you further up, momentum sending you a few fulms back before collapsing onto your ass. Your tailbone connected hard with the floor, sharp pain zipping up your torso. 

Without hesitation, you lurched onto your feet, no longer concerned with self preservation so much as answering the call of bucketfuls of energy dumping into your veins.

“A pitiful start,” Zenos remarked, his tone returning to that bored drawl.

He attacked again, moving way too fast for somebody so huge. Your dodge was messy, you stumbled over his outstretched foot and presented an easy opening for him to take advantage of. Your hip first, aligned as it was with his knee. Something cracked, you had no idea if it was the complaining of metal or bone. Then your chest, his forearm striking like an iron bar right beneath your collarbones. The coup de grâce was a hard punch directly to your kidney. 

The world blurred and blackened as furious, blinding agony engulfed you entirely. Exquisite in its malice, pain was all that could possibly exist in that moment. 

There was no thought when you were overcome so completely by your need to get away, driven by the primal instinct of an animal. Tanking another punch to the ribs, you grabbed his arm, the one he was holding you with, pulling at it like a bar. Zenos couldn’t shake you off fast enough, not before you could bite on the first available patch of vulnerability you could find. Right above where the leather of his glove ended and below the elbow. Gods bless his lack of armor, you could feel your sharp canines pierce the fabric of his shirt, digging right into his skin. 

He swatted you away with a head turning backhand, sending you back until you slammed against the wall. At the very least, it kept you from falling again, giving you something to steady yourself against. Quickened by the fresh burst of energy gifted through pain, you quickly assessed your wounds. No broken bones. Probably no internal damage. Your face was the most distracting of the pain, his backhand had reduced the entire cheek to an unmanageable blaze of feverish skin.

Opening your streaming eyes and blinking your vision clear, you realized that your bite must have caught a vein in his arm, bringing along a spray of blood when he shook you off. Scarlet droplets stained the ornate white collar of his coat, soaking into the light colored fabric of your clothes. Even though you were unable to catch your breath and liable to collapse from the pain at any minute, you felt a pang of victory. When was the last time anybody had drawn his blood? 

Zenos looked confused, almost. That passed quickly, his eyes focused on you with a predatory gleam. “Well, well.” He shrugged the coat from his shoulders without a thought given to how expensive the garment must have been. “More beast than woman indeed. Mayhap you should be muzzled.” 

The stomp of his boot on the floor was all the warning you got, but you were able to spin out of his reach when he lunged at you, ducking beneath his sweeping fist.  

“Better,” he remarked, following it up with a low swipe of his left arm and then a direct right. “But it won’t be enough.” Ignoring the taunt, you dodged his next cluster of attacks by a hair's breadth, the air tickling your sweaty skin. Zenos didn’t continue to rush you like you expected, straightening out and turning as you circled him. 

He was baiting you into attacking. You knew that because, if you were the one with the upper hand, you would have done the same.

Realizing you weren’t going to take initiative, Zenos came at you again. This time, you were given no reprieve from his flurry of punches. Most of them were feints. Testing you? Teasing you? No. Tiring you out. You tried to step backward to catch your breath, but you didn’t move fast enough. He grabbed your arm before you were out of reach, wrenching you back towards him. 

With a grotesque pop, your shoulder gave out. You ignored it, knowing the sort of sick trick he was about to pull, and forced yourself to orient to the change of momentum. Following it, you jumped. Your bare foot connected satisfyingly with his unarmored hip. Your other foot connected with his stomach, meeting the resistance of some type of protective shirt. You used that leverage to get away, twisting your arm out of his loosened grip. Pain lanced down that arm all the way down to your knuckles, the shoulder screaming in protest. As far as aerials went, it was horribly awkward in the limited space, and you barely managed to stick the landing. But it got you out of his reach. 

“Clever girl,” Zenos praised you. He didn’t approach you again, merely watching you with that same disquieting smile. The lanterns on the far wall lit the gold of his hair into a halo, the rapturous depictions of kami rearing up behind him. “You enjoy this as much as I do.”

Panting and dizzy, you met his gaze, too immersed to feel shame. Unlike base predators that took eye contact as a sign of aggression, Zenos seemed to invite your attention. There was a sense of lucidity to him now, contrasting with your hazy thoughts. In your blurry emerald limbo, there existed only the absolute and physical. Pain and exertion and living and yourself and your opponent. The racing of your heart and the flow of blood through your veins, the taste of it in your throat and on your tongue. 

“Oh yes,” he continued, his voice lowering. “That look in your eye belies the ideals you so fervently espouse.” 

Either his tone or the words themselves—something about what Zenos said affected you in a way you would never admit in any realm outside of the fog of senseless frenzy. You could still taste his blood, feel the bruises he’d printed around your arm when he grabbed you. He was right in some ways. You wanted to fight him, to win. Not for any grand cause or because of the evil he had committed, but because you were compelled by the heat of the moment, by your own desire. 

But you couldn’t. This was for his entertainment. His enjoyment. Zenos spoke as if there was some deeper meaning to this, but that was all talk. Words to lend virtue to violence. 

You knew all about that. 

Instinct kept you from breaking stance when Zenos rushed you again. Feet apart, knees bent, ready to move, to dodge. That was all you could do. Avoid his attacks until you couldn’t anymore. There was no running, no fighting. With its shoulder out of place, your left arm was borderline useless.

And it worked, for a time. Zenos attacked and you dodged, the two of you were practically dancing together. And it was, in a way, invigorating. You saw the same feeling on his face. 

The moment of perfect invulnerability ended too soon. You misjudged where his fist was aimed and overcorrected, giving him an opening to clip the back of your heel with the hard edge of his boot. The tendon gave out and, yelping, you toppled forward. Rather than letting you fall where you were, Zenos grabbed you by the back of the neck. 

“Caught you,” he teased. You struggled violently, freeing yourself and whirling around to hit him with your uninjured arm, moving right into place for his other fist to connect with your face. Blood exploded from your nose. You didn’t even feel it at first, just the overwhelming sense of disbelieving shock. 

Grabbing your arm, Zenos tossed you into the center of the room, throwing you around like you were nothing. To him, you probably were. 

You fell with a soundless, breathless cry, rolling to try and mitigate further damage before coming to a stop, dizzy and aching. All you could taste was blood, it was still gushing from your nose, painting the front of your sweaty undershirt in bright red. 

“Again,” Zenos demanded, excited. 

Panting hard, you tried to get to your feet, watching him with watering eyes. But the tendon he’d kicked gave out, pain incapacitating that entire leg when you put pressure on it. 

“Is that it?” he mocked. With loud footsteps, he approached you slowly, as if to give you time to escape, but it was setting in finally that you were helpless. In every sense. 

Yellow light had warmed the greens and reds of the room into a sort of unreality, your tear-glazed vision fading on the edges and sharpening in the center, your entire existence heightening to a pinpoint of the moment. Fear cast a dark shadow, but the absurdity and oversaturation of dramatics gave you a measure of recklessness, a retreat from your fear and anger. 

“On your feet, hero.” 

“Why?” you asked, your voice muffled by your bloody nose. It didn’t feel broken, at least. Zenos wasn’t trying to seriously hurt you, this was all just a game. A diversion. Biting your tongue to keep from making any noise, you took the opportunity to push your shoulder back into place. Nausea flooded through your stomach at the pain, but you choked it down. You would be fine. 

“Why indeed,” he said softly. “You enjoy this too, do you not?” 

You breathed out shakily, blood running into your mouth. The mental barrier that accounted for things like safety and morality was all but disintegrated by adrenaline and exhaustion.

“So stand,” Zenos insisted, his voice threateningly soft. He spoke so low, you could practically feel his voice. “Now.” 

It didn’t matter one way or the other. Every choice he had offered was a falsehood, a chance for him to observe your reaction. Zenos wasn’t playing the role of predator or prey, he was taking on the role of ethologist. He wanted you to react, to struggle and fight and feed into his lust for violence. 

“No,” you said, looking up at him with your jaw set in place. It wasn’t exactly the strong rejection you were aiming for, stuffed up by the blood that was finally slowing down. Everything was painted with the stuff, soon to become sticky and rusty. All the same, you felt a rush of pleasure at saying it, at denying him something he explicitly asked for. “Do what you will, I-I don’t care. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last, so wha-whatever you expect to get from this… It’s pointless. Compared to what I’ve faced… the horrors in this world… you’re… you’re insignificant.” 

Zenos’s eyes narrowed and you met them with a raised chin. Part of that was because of the bloody nose, but most of it was out of stubborn defiance. The idea that you had gotten under his skin, even a little, filled you with hot satisfaction, almost enough to cancel out the pain.  

And you expected retribution, maybe a part of you hoped for it. But instead of stooping down or kicking you or anything else that you expected, his arm swept forward so he could grab a handful of your loose hair, dragging you back up onto your knees. It hurt, of course it hurt, but the pain shot down right down your spine, and your verbal response, what should have been a cry of pain, was a loud moan. 

Zenos froze. You did too, not even trying to escape the hand threaded into your hair. The silence physically pressed into you, broken only by your harsh breathing as you waited for him to say something. Part of you hoped he hadn’t heard it, or that he’d misinterpret the sound. It wasn’t your fault, it was a mixture of everything and you couldn’t help it, it had nothing to do with him, of course it didn’t. Just that the intensity and the helplessness and the way reality had dulled while your senses sharpened so acutely had worn away at your reasonable, rational mind, passion becoming indistinguishable. 

Excuses. The frailty of youthful weakness had warped you, playing adventurer hero now didn’t change anything. 

“Is this why you behave with such insolence?” Zenos asked softly.

A new type of fear and humiliation gripped your insides, keeping you silent. Instead, you thought to pry at his hand, trying to make him let go. But another sharp tug made you whimper, and you stopped. 

“How very… unexpected.” Zenos dropped your hair and you immediately tried to escape, your sweaty, bloody palms slapping on the stone floor as you tried to lurch onto your feet.

What you didn’t expect, really truly genuinely didn’t expect, was to feel his hand close around your neck before you could make it even a step past him, pushing you until you hit the wall and up. Up until your feet were off the ground, up until your panicked eyes could directly meet his, up until he could stand close enough that you felt the heat of his body. Paint scratched your bare shoulders, reminding you of where you were: crushed helplessly between a shrine for somebody else’s gods and the man who would see them all destroyed. 

Mad with panic, you grabbed onto his arm to keep from suffocating entirely, bracing yourself between him and the wall to relieve some of the pressure on your throat, your feet—raised at least two fulms off of the floor—kicking ineffectually. They would have an easier time knocking a hole in the wall than managing to hurt Zenos in any meaningful way. You lashed out with your free hand as well, hitting his chest, his arm. When you tried to claw at his exposed face, Zenos just raised his chin to keep it out of your limited reach. When you went for his hair,  his hand tightened enough that the world blinked dark, his other hand pressing against your sore hip. Before you could pass out, he let up slightly. You choked, gasping, twitching pitifully. 

“Is this all it takes to incapacitate you, hero?” Zenos mocked. “You have faced worse, have you not?” 

Already the world seemed to be closing in, getting darker. You had wasted too much energy panicking. Although even if you hadn’t, you probably would have had an easier time moving mountains than prying Zenos’s hand from your neck. 

He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering and eyes burning into yours. “How pathetic.” 

Your reaction to the insult, the one you did your utmost to hide from him, must have come through in some capacity. And he had to have been watching and waiting for it, because Zenos’s smile deepened to a truly devious expression. 

“I should have known that you would have… unnatural tastes.”

Your face screwed up in disgust and you tried, with waning strength, to pry his fingers off of your neck. It was pointless. His body was blazing heat and impossibly solid, his face close enough that you could see the color in his cheeks, the inky dark brush of his eyelashes over sweet baby blue each time he blinked. 

Even that, your entire world, slowly darkened, all of your pitiful choking noises cutting off. 

“Don’t swoon,” he said irritably, like it was your own fault. But he did step forward so you could hold onto him. Pride demanded you refuse the offer, but survival won out. You clung to Zenos, easing the pressure off of your neck. The cruelty wasn’t lost on you, even in your frazzled state. He did nothing to help support you other than the hand around your neck. It forced you into dependency, your bare thighs chafing uncomfortably against his armored waist and your arms clinging to his broad shoulders, but it was still better than passing out.  

Zenos watched with empty eyes while you, once again, tried to catch your breath. It was difficult, you were overly aware of the weight of his gaze. And the position wasn’t intimate in any sane way. It would be as easy as breathing for him to snap your neck, and you doubted anybody would label the look he gave you as lustful, but your body reacted to his proximity all the same. Not as a combatant, but as a woman. The hot, confused, nervous weight of being so near him scared you more than any threat of violence. It was a sickening sensation, blurring the pain with the onslaught of energy that had kept you going thus far. And it wasn’t your fault. Your passions so rarely had the opportunity to get twisted in this way when you were fighting monsters and eikons and crazy old men. Monsters had no right to be attractive, your brain lacked the wisdom to filter danger from lust, or violence from passion.  

“Put me down,” you demanded, your voice hoarse.

“I am not loath to indulge you in such a way,” Zenos said, speaking as if he hadn’t heard you. “While you are too small for my taste, you are not entirely without appeal. You will not be easily broken either.” 

You shook your head in panic, your stomach twisting into knots. Even as you choked on the smell and taste of blood, you could smell him too. It must have been his hair, amber clove and vanilla. “I-I don’t know what you think you’re-”

“And to claim the hero of the savages for myself,” he continued, cutting you off with amusement breaking through his tone. “It is not an unpleasant thought. 

“No,” you told him emphatically, injecting every bit of strength and acid you could into the word.  

“No?” Zenos repeated in a deadly soft voice, his head tilting as he considered your rejection. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. “Did you not grant me permission to do as I wished?”  

You gasped harshly when his hand dropped between your legs, almost glad for the way his other hand restricted your ability to make any louder noise as his fingers pressed right between your thighs. Everything, even breathing, hurt your battered and exhausted body—assuming you could get a proper breath with his grip cutting off your airway—but that pain only made things worse, made you more sensitized. With nothing more than the thin pair of shorts and even thinner panties, you knew he could feel the heat. 

“If this is, as you say, insignificant, why should you reject me?” Zenos asked.

The use of your own words against you was like a slap in the face. They had been spoken in a moment of contrary bravado, but you realized now how stupid they had been. 

“Stop it,” you demanded in a crushed voice, fixing him with what you hoped was a properly angry glare. When you squirmed to escape, all it did was grind you against his hand. 

“Have you shared your body with another before?” His fingers curled, pressing a little harder against your clothed pussy. By the Twelve, his hand was nearly double the size of yours. 

“Stop!” 

Without any other warning, Zenos pulled his hand away so he could shove it past the waistband of your shorts and panties. They weren’t meant to stretch that much, the fabric complaining against the stress. But you weren’t as concerned with that as you were with the shock of one of his fingers dipping inward, slipping between your outer lips. His calloused fingertip searched for a moment, drawn inward by smooth, slick flesh to your entrance. You hissed sharply, your thighs clenching around his waist.  

“As I thought. You’re dripping for me, my beast.” While passion burned in his low voice, Zenos didn’t look pleased with the revelation. You couldn’t tell what he felt, or thought, only that you didn’t like it. “For the pain I’ve given you, the thrilling rush of violence we’ve enjoyed together. In this, we are of the same mind.” 

“We’re not!” you insisted breathlessly. To punctuate the rejection, your body bucked clumsily, a desperate bid to displace his hand, senseless panic about what was happening well and truly setting in. It was predictably ineffectual. Without any other options, you pushed against his shoulders to move further up the wall, to get away from his touch. His hand just followed you, that finger drawing forward to press against your clit. A shiver ran through your body, fizzling out in your head. “Ss-stop this. You’re-you’re disgusting.”

“Finally!” Zenos exclaimed, his voice raising with manic glee. “That is the look I crave. I wonder, hero, will you hate me for exposing your true nature, or will you finally admit to what you are?”

Not waiting for an answer, he pulled his hand away so he could push your shorts and underwear down. The fabric strained loudly, painfully taut between your thighs and stopped by the obstruction of his body. But it was enough to make space for his hand. You tried to fight him, pulling at his arm desperately, but your attempts were pointless, Zenos just squeezed your throat a little tighter. Not enough to cut off your air completely, but enough to make you gasp and wheeze, enough to make you unable to anything as he pressed two fingers against the fluttering muscles of your entrance. You glared at him through squinted, teary eyes, giving up on the hand around your neck to pry at the one between your legs. 

Zenos smiled. “Hate, then. Very well.” 

With that, he drove two fingers into your pussy. They were big, and two was more than you could have been prepared for. But you were wet, and even if it hurt, he was easily able to work them in deep, his callouses scraping against your sensitive inner walls. You choked, a pained hiss leaving from between your teeth. 

“Not a virgin then,” he said. “A pity. ” 

When Zenos pulled his fingers out, you could feel the way your cunt worked around them as if trying to suck him back in despite the discomfort. Your hips twitched forward in a suggestive way. A little sound left your mouth when his fingers curled slightly, a sound that you didn’t want to think was pleasure but certainly wasn’t pain or discomfort. 

“Mm. Consider yourself lucky, beast. I don’t often waste my time pandering to the whims of others, but I want you to remember this well. Your lust, your fear, your pain, your rage—I will have it all. I will take from you what no one else has.”

You shook your head, but, all too easily, your body turned against you. He thrust his fingers back in with a sloppy sound and you choked out a moan, your pussy squeezing his fingers as they pulled out. 

Sickened by your response, by his words, you lashed out again. Zenos wasn’t expecting it this time, and you caught his cheek with your nails. Four shallow red lines marked his flawless ivory cheekbone, cut short when he used his grip on your neck to pull you forward and slam you hard against the wall, painfully knocking your head against it as he began to fingerfuck you in earnest.

Something cracked upon impact and, in the dizzy lurch of agony sweeping red hot behind your eyes, you thought for sure that you had just broken your skull. 

But even the pain wasn’t enough of a distraction to let you ignore the fingers buried deep in your cunt. Zenos was cruel, pushing them deep enough that you could feel the leather of his fingerless glove each time. A helpless, nearly inaudible noise left your mouth.

Zenos exhaled sharply through his nose, although that was the only indication you got that he was affected by any of this. Rougher now, while you were still trying to get over the agonizing throbbing starting at the back of your head and working all the way down your body. Already he was setting a too-fast pace that had you rocking up and down against the wall, held in place by his hand and the grip you had on his shoulders. When you braved to look at him through wet eyelashes, the emptiness of his eyes struck you anew. Excitement, sure. Maybe even a sort of hunger. But not enjoyment or engagement. Not ‘need’ in the lustful sense. 

“There is something… curious about lust born not of desire, but of violence. How similar the two can be, yet how different,” Zenos mused, unconcerned with the turmoil in your head, unconcerned with the act itself. You gasped and jerked and twitched with every thrust, but he wasn’t affected. 

If murdering innocents wasn’t enough to get his heart rate up, chokeslamming you to the wall and fingerfucking you wasn’t likely to either. That bitter thought didn’t do much to curb your body’s reaction. Every pass was better than the last, his long fingers scratching an itch within you that you simply couldn’t, no matter how hard you tried. His other hand squeezed your windpipe ever so slightly at random intervals, keeping you from being able to breathe, to form a coherent thought. It kept you sensitized, entreated by each intoxicating rush of oxygen. 

“I myself am not immune to its effects, but… that is agreeable to you, beast, is it not?”

There wasn’t much within you left to focus on Zenos’s words. All you could think was that you were going to come if he didn’t stop. He kept curling his fingers as he pulled them out, dragging his calloused fingertips—intentionally or not—against your g-spot. Not to mention how deep he could go. It was literal fingerfucking. You knew you were dripping past his knuckles and probably onto the leather of his glove. There was no resistance against his fingers, nothing to keep him from being rough, to twist and scissor them in a way that made your legs kick and back arch. 

Foul. It was all foul, and Zenos enjoyed watching your conflict. If not with lust, then with great interest. You squeezed your eyes shut, turning your face as far from him as you could given the hand around your throat. You wouldn’t come. You didn’t enjoy this. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Eyes on me, beast,” Zenos said, his hand squeezing your throat and fingers thrusting into you sharply, mercilessly adding a third. It made you squeal, a sound you couldn’t remember having made before. “Are you listening, hero? I will not repeat myself. You will look me in the eye while you come on my hand.”

You meant to object, but all you got out was a whine. The sound was choked and pathetic and obscene, adding to the obscene, sloppy noises created by each thrust of his fingers. Nobody would believe you were unwilling, not when you were so wet, not when your pussy clamped down around his fingers at the dark threat, and not when you were squirming like a woman possessed. Air had become a privilege and all you could taste was blood and you were sore in a dozen different places and none of that mattered.

Soundlessly begging with bloody lips, you did what Zenos said and met his eyes, feeling the inevitable twist and blaze of pleasure in your core as your body tightened. It looked like he knew, his eyes widening in excitement and body crushing you to the wall a little harder, his fingers setting a faster pace. Most men wouldn’t be able to maintain such a savage pace. Then again, you doubted most women would be able to find pleasure in such brutality. It was violent and painful and miserably cruel and every time his fingers moved you saw stars. 

“Come now, beast. I don’t have all day.” 

Zenos’s voice was low, intimate. You felt it more than you heard it, the sound going right to your pussy. That was all it took. Burning with self hatred and disgust and a bestial sort of lust that bordered delirium, you shuddered apart, pleasure rolling through you and easing every ache, every discomfort, even dread was dulled by the overwhelming sensation. Cruel eyes watched you get off to his abuse, you met Zenos’s gaze as you relented to the pleasure of his violence. Blue, cool and empty and absolute, ravaged your mind. 

All too quickly, it was over, and you were back in the miserable heat and disgust of the situation. Trembling and feeling the creeping nausea return, you told him to stop in a broken voice, wincing as your body began to painfully reject the overstimulation. Zenos did, and you almost didn’t like that either because when he pulled his fingers out of you, he did so slowly, ensuring you could feel it, that he could see the way you shivered at the overstimulation when he brushed past your g-spot. 

“Look at me,” Zenos demanded. You hadn’t been aware you had closed your eyes but you opened them quickly, glaring at the man as intently as you could. And Zenos had the gall to laugh, genuine delight dancing in his eyes. “A stirring sight, to be sure.” 

You spat blood. 

The glob of red saliva missed from how quickly he moved, hitting his shirt instead. Zenos dropped you with visible disgust, stepping back so you could fall to the floor. You didn’t feel the pain, although it must have been quite jarring. Like a panicking animal, you scrambled around his legs, desperate to get away. 

“It is too late for that,” Zenos said, stopping your escape by stepping on your leg. It forced your hips flat on the cool floor, the rest of your body following suit. 

“Stop!”

Zenos ignored you, removing his boot as he crouched down behind you only to replace it with a knee settled heavily on the back of your leg, the metal edge of his armor pressing painfully into the soft flesh. He made quick work getting rid of the scrap remains of your underwear and shorts, tossing them aside and leaving no room for interpretation as to what was about to happen. Although the noticeable bulge made that point well enough. 

“Here now, beast,” he teased, his voice warm with amusement. “Heel.”  

“Gah-no,” you cried, ignoring the pain and lashing out, desperate to get out from under him. “Let me go!”

Rather than argue, Zenos grabbed one of your ears. Instinctually, your body went stiff to spare itself. In combat, you kept your sensitive, delicate ears protected, but now they were completely exposed. Afraid of what he might do, you didn’t resist as he pulled you back, forcing you to sit upright on your knees. 

“I understand the deformities of the beast savages are prone to exceptional sensitivity,” he said, pinching the delicate tip of your ear between his fingers to feel the fur. “Is that true?” 

You grit your teeth, fresh tears forming in your eyes. “Let me g-” Zenos cut you off, taking advantage of your open mouth to shove his fingers past your lips. They were the ones that had been inside of you, that had made you come. Your mouth filled with the salty, heady flavor. It mixed unpleasantly with the tangy taste of blood. Using his fingers like a hook on the inside of your cheek, Zenos turned your head sideways to make you look at him. 

His eyebrow quirked expectantly. “Clean up your mess.” 

Oh.

Oh. 

Embarrassment welled up in your chest and part of you wanted to bite him, but Zenos pulled on your ear again. Of the two horrors, you picked the lesser and obediently closed your lips around his fingers, sucking them clean. You had no idea how much of it was about sexual gratification. When he pushed them deeper and made you choke, he just looked amused. Curious about your reaction, maybe. The amount of dispassionate control he had over the situation when you could barely think right was terrifying. 

When Zenos decided you had done enough, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a deluge of bloody saliva, wiping them off on your sweaty tank top.    

You might have felt relief when he released your ear, but it was followed by the suggestive clink of metal as he undid his belt, leather sliding against itself, and you tensed up, your breathing picking up speed. Between the panic and blood and choking and hyperventilation, you felt as if you hadn't gotten a full breath in hours.

“You can’t do this,” you said, putting as much steel into your voice as possible. It trembled along with the rest of your body. 

Zenos didn’t bother responding. His belt dropped to the floor. You didn’t want to look back as you heard fabric being pushed aside, but you couldn’t help the impulse, twisting around to get a glimpse of him over your shoulder. Very little of Zenos’s body was revealed, only what was necessary. The bottom of a well muscled abdomen, a trail of blond hair, and his dick, the flushed head bobbing as he stroked himself fully hard. Zenos touched himself in a way that seemed to purposefully flaunt his body. As indifferent as he acted, the man was obviously vain. That wasn’t much of a concern right then. In his own hand, his cock was proportional, but considering you had felt those fingers inside of you already, proportional was synonymous with no way this was going to work. 

“Take pride in inspiring my lust,” he told you with the faintest trace of a smile. “It’s not often that I feel compelled to satiate my base urges for any reason other than convenience. But this… I shall enjoy this.” 

You jerked forward in an attempt to dislodge your leg, your sweaty palms slapping against the marble floor as you dragged yourself forward. Zenos calmly grabbed you by the tail to force you back into place. For the first time, he made you scream, the unexpected pain and shock zipping all the way up your spine to your pounding head. 

“Stop!” you demanded, attempting to twist around only to be knocked down to your elbows when he released your tail in favor of getting his hands around your hips to pull you into place. He seemed utterly unconcerned with you, preoccupied with your body instead.

The time for playing had, at long last, ended. 

“Spread your legs,” Zenos ordered, unnervingly dispassionate. 

You didn’t, not even sure if you could will your body to expose itself like that. 

Zenos wordlessly grabbed your tail again, using it to lift your back into a painful arch. Even with your thighs clamped together, the position forcibly exposed your bare ass and pussy to his eyes. The only way to hide would be to risk breaking your tail. He didn’t give you time to decide which was worse, his flat palm landing against your ass with a horribly loud smack. The slap was hard enough to make you yelp, hard enough to send your body lurching forward. Zenos patiently pulled you back into place by the tail, shooting fresh scores of pain up your spine. Red hot fire spread across your skin, you’d probably have a hand-shaped imprint there. The pain, however, was minor in comparison to the shock of being spanked. Like you were a disobedient child. And your body, the traitor, shuddered with the pain and humiliation. 

“Ah—ff-fine,” you said, spreading your legs before he could hit you again, squeezing your eyes shut against the embarrassment. Wordlessly, Zenos’s fingertips lightly traced over the hand-shaped mark, almost gentle. And then he spanked you again. Harder, a little lower than the first, targeting the very top of your thigh as well. Your shout was hoarse and choked. And still, he said nothing.

Maintaining a firm hold on your tail to keep your back arched as high as possible, Zenos pushed his cock between your folds. You were so wet that it slipped, bumping against your clit in a way that made you shiver. With the same calculated patience, he pulled back and aligned the thick head with your entrance, pressing into you. There was some give, but even though he had prepared you with his thick fingers, this was different. Your body acted instinctively to protect itself, you couldn’t help it. 

“Zenos, st—ah-” Your words cut off with a girlish yelp as he finally forced the head of his cock past the flinching muscles of your entrance. Your pussy clamped down hard around him, trying to keep him out, but that had the opposite effect. Given Zenos’s silent stoicism so far, hearing his little groan made the hairs on the back of your sweaty neck stand on end. It was wrong.  

“Can you not feel how your body begs—nay, weeps for mine, beast?” he asked with muted fervor, exchanging your tail for a handful of your loose hair. 

“N-nn-oh, stop,” you choked out, your hands scrambling for purchase on the smooth floor. 

“No,” he said. The single, inflectionless word was worse than almost anything else he could have said, damning in its simplicity. There was nothing you could do to stop this. It was going to happen. Zenos let go of your hair and lifted you by the hips to mitigate the size discrepancy, it pushed him a little deeper, aided by how wet you were. 

“Ss-stop!” you demanded again, your voice raised in panic when he kept pushing. Beyond the initial stretch, there was resistance. No matter how wet you were, you didn’t want this. That didn’t so much as give him pause. Zenos sighed, twisting your hips to ease his way. You drew up painfully tense, your breathing harsh and fast. The tension made it worse, made the uncomfortable stretch that much more obvious. “Stopstopstop—” you practically chanted, but there was nothing you could do, Zenos had complete control over the position. Over you.

“Does it hurt?” he asked mockingly, curling down over you. “Do you ache?” 

A broken sound left your mouth, something like a sob. “Too much,” you got out through gritted teeth. “It won’t fit.” 

“‘Tis your own fault,” Zenos said. “Mayhap if you weren’t such a runtish creature…” The disdain in his voice was utterly uncalled for. It wasn’t your size that was the problem, he was too much for anybody to reasonably take. 

Without warning, he swept you up by the backs of your thighs, folding you against himself as he sat back. Gravity dragged you down further onto his cock, and a few upward thrusts of his hips did the rest. You were unable to do anything other than take it, the position left you without any room to struggle. The natural resistance of your body, the simple matter of size, only delayed the inevitable. With a terrible ripping sensation and a final few hard, shallow thrusts, you were fully seated on his cock. There was no relief or distraction you could find. There was nothing other than the pinching, pounding, splitting ache of being too full. The problem wasn’t just the length, his cock was too thick, greedily forcing your body to accommodate his own.   

Zenos sighed in satisfaction. Above you, behind you, inside of you, all around you. 

“There,” he said, the singular, satisfied word rumbling against your back. His armor scraped roughly against your bare shoulders, but even without it there would be no intimacy to this position. Now that you had sunk down his cock, your head didn’t so much as make it up to his chin. You may as well have been nothing more than a doll in comparison.

Unconcerned with your panting, trembling, pained reaction, Zenos leisurely rolled his hips. You could have sworn you felt his cock twitch inside of you. You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat like you could, pulsing against him. So deep, selfishly, cruelly deep. You whimpered despite your best attempts to stay silent when he rolled his hips again. It was, in a way, almost nice of him to be giving you a moment to adjust. You would have expected Zenos to fuck you violently, vicious and bloody. But he seemed content to take his time. It was hard to imagine it was for your sake, but he wasn’t reacting like it was for his own either. 

Your breath caught when he began pulling out. It was what you wanted, but it still hurt, forcing you to feel the way your pussy unconsciously squeezed around him, your agonizingly raw walls fluttering in pain. Desperate to escape the splitting pain before he could fill you again, your body bunched up in an attempt to get away, but Zenos easily held you in place, his hips slamming upward. You wailed, thrashing helplessly against his hold.

“Quiet now, beast,” he warned in a low voice, “lest you wish for all to know how readily you take my cock.”

That dark threat kept you from making too loud of a noise in response to the next too-hard thrust, just a whimpery grunt from the strain it put on your body. The only benefit was that he couldn’t force you down all the way onto his cock each time in this position. A small mercy, considering how uncomfortably full you were anyway. 

But you knew what would happen. 

It didn’t stop aching, but you were more than aware that your body was easing into it. Submitting to him. Squeezing his cock, providing a fresh wave of lubrication, your hips tilting forward to match his. Rough sex wasn’t new to you, the only thing that set Zenos apart was his size. And the glaring fact that you didn’t want this. But, in any other circumstance, the manhandling and raw strength he casually displayed was something you liked. Even if your cognitive mind chanted that you didn’t want this, your body was stupid. It got confused about getting punched in the face, let alone being fucked. 

“Ah, I knew you would come around,” Zenos said, a smile in his voice. Holding your legs with his arms allowed one of his hands to sneak down, dropping to feel where your pussy was stretching around him. The stimulation made you shudder, your hips bucking forward. 

“Don’t,” you hissed, tensing up all over again. But Zenos didn’t seem to be listening, groaning at the way his touch made your pussy squeeze him, the rush of fresh arousal it brought to smooth his way. “Stop!” you whined, trying to writhe away from him. 

He ignored you, his rough fingers continuing to tease you, making you squirm and jerk and tighten around his cock again. 

“From now on,” Zenos said softly, “every time you allow another man to fuck you, I will be the one you think of. Be it with lust, hate, despair—your body will crave mine.”

Even if they were nothing more than hot air and overconfidence, his words made you moan. You wanted to be brave, to say something to shut him down like you had before, to insist that this didn’t feel good. It was so frustratingly unfair, so evil. Physical pain had never been able to weaken you into giving up, but a taste of pleasure could? 

His fingers trailed up further. When they found your neglected clit, you choked, your body jerking against his hold. Zenos rewarded your reaction with a hard thrust and, for the first time, the sound you let out was without the slightest hint of pain, an open obscenity of pleasure.  

Zenos groaned in turn, holding you tighter, his thrusts becoming more focused. The way he touched your clit was excessively good. Considering how much pain he had caused, it should have been impossible to think you could come from this. But you already had. And, in the absence of the adrenaline that had kept you alert while he was beating you up, there was a hollow within you. Hollow morals, hollow self preservation. Pleasure so easily filled the gaps in your empty mind, coiling up hot and tense inside of you with each thrust. 

So full, so deep. Every time his hips thrust upwards your body was pushed into his touch against your clit. The thick head of his cock hit in a way that made choke back moans and gasps, driving so deep you could have sworn you’d feel him just by pressing against your abdomen. And then there was the pressure. The fullness. Full of him. Whenever your cunt squeezed with pleasure, it hurt. And it felt good. 

“It’s almost too easy,” Zenos said, his voice finally showing the strain of pleasure and exertion. “You will come for me again, will you not?”  

The moan you couldn’t bite back was meant to be denial. It wasn’t. 

“Savor it,” Zenos said, even softer. “No other man will fulfill you as I do.”

By the twelve, his voice filled you like smoke, swirling in your head, inundating your entire body. It was all Zenos. The sweet scent of his hair, the solid strength of his body as he held you, as he fucked you. His cock. Gods, it reached places inside of you that you weren’t even aware of before then. The drag of calloused fingertips on your clit. You could hate him but right then you were practically choking on your pleasure, on the intoxication of it all. 

And then you were coming, your pussy clamping down around his cock and your body going painfully tense. Behind you, Zenos grunted, and you met that with a helpless moan, shuddering apart, liquid heat making everything right for a few lovely moments. 

Reality reclaimed you quickly. Sweaty, aching, bloody, trembling, and breathless. 

“Ss-no-oh more,” you gasped out, your body shying away as pleasurable release became overstimulated horror and nausea. To your surprise, he did, holding your shaking body in place while you both caught your breath. After a moment of agonizing stillness, Zenos lifted you up and off of him, letting you fall onto the floor in a pile of awkward limbs, panting and trembling and reeling. Firm hands flipped you onto your back. The cold floor was uncomfortable against your bare shoulders, and painfully hard. 

As you had several times before in far less disadvantageous situations, you stared up at Zenos. Behind him, the kami memorialized on the wall seemed to shiver in the warm yellow light, their painted visages watching the desecration of their shrine. Zenos’s hulking figure covered your view of the sun kami, his golden hair making him out to be a mockery of the divine. 

He was still hard, his erection shining with red-tinged slick. The sight echoed the throbbing pain inside of you, inciting a fresh wave of panicked defensiveness. Before you could try and get away, Zenos grabbed your legs, callously hauling you up so your thighs could lay over his, your legs propped up against his torso. 

“What’re-”

“Alas, our time together is running short. I can no longer entertain your needs.”

With one hand holding you in place by the bruised neck, he used the other to stroke himself, measuring his cock against your abdomen to gauge how deep he was going. The sight was dizzying. No wonder there was blood. The weight was startling as well, the pure overwhelming physical difference between the two of you. It all made your head spin. Your own arousal smeared in a pinkish stain across your skin as you squirmed, your pussy squeezing painfully around nothing. Zenos ignored your reaction, appraising the sight with an unreadable expression before his eyes dragged upward. 

Throughout all of this, you had retained your undershirt and bra. The fabric was bunched up to your waist, drenched with sweat. Nearly translucent. He said that you were appealing earlier, but the way he looked at you didn’t betray any sort of attraction, nor disgust. Just interest, curiosity. 

“‘Tis a shame we haven’t the opportunity to truly savor this,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, his expression remaining composed. “Your body is,” he let out a breath through his teeth, his eyes dragging further down, “uniquely gratifying.” 

The praise, such as it was, made your pussy clench down around nothing, sending hot waves of pain throughout your lower half. And he intended for more. Gods have mercy. 

“Nn-no more” you said hoarsely. “Anything else, I ca-ah-” You yelped when he grabbed you by the waist, effortlessly lifting you despite the way you thrashed. One of your kicks nearly landed, but he pulled out of the way at the last second.  

Wordlessly, Zenos slapped you across the face. It wasn’t the hardest you’d ever been slapped, but the point wasn’t to hurt you. It was meant to stun you, to humiliate you. And it worked. The shock made you fall still, your face blazing. He used your compliance to work his cock into you. The inexorable stretch surprised you all over again. Impossibly hard, unyielding.

“You’ve naught else to offer, beast,” Zenos said, sliding you all the way down. You choked, shuddered, not wanting to watch him but unable to look away. Zenos’s eyes fluttered shut, chin tilting back with the faintest expression of pleasure. Almost serene. “Not yet. This is but a prelude of what’s to come.” 

He rolled his hips once, twice before the trance was broken, and he looked at you, watching your reaction as he pulled you off of him, as you tensed and shuddered and grit your teeth against the pain as he thrust back into your pussy with a sloppy, filthy slap of skin. The position, the way he was holding you, the control he had over your body—it was borderline masturbatory. He was using you as somebody would use an object. Unlike before, he could thrust to the hilt every time. Too deep, skin slapping skin, his cock forcing your body to make space where there was none. 

Despite the throbbing ache, you were wet enough to ease his way. You moaned brokenly, half sobbing. You couldn’t do anything other than take it. Zenos didn’t seem overly concerned with you anyway, focused on using your body to reach his own end. 

You yelped when his hand closed around your bruised, sore neck again, your eyes meeting his in new panic. Zenos didn’t look at you like a lover, or even with overt pleasure. His eyes were wide and excited, his lips stretched in something like a smile. Insanity and bliss. 

“Tell me, has any other man known you in this way?” Zenos asked, his voice unraveled into joyous breathlessness. “Known your thirst for pleasure through violence, for depravity through blood?”  

“No!” you responded quickly, forcing the word out despite the pressure on your throat in the hopes he’d let up. 

“This passion… it is new to me as well.” 

“Zenos, please s-slo-” Your plea broke apart when he released your throat to grab your waist again, twisting your hips. Even through the pain, you could feel the way it changed the angle in which he entered you, and the raw echo of pleasure.

“The great eikon-slayer… would beg?” he asked. He was insane. He was insane and he was going to fuck you to death while smiling that insane smile. You whined, trying to get his hands to loosen enough for you to squirm away. For all the good it did. He wasn’t even fucking you, just sliding you up and down his cock with the unbreakable grip he had on your waist. “Go on then, beast. Beg.” 

“N-no, Zenos, ss-stop.”

“Endure the pain,” he told you. And then, a moment later, “You are worthy of it.” 

You whined, a sound that became a wail when he twisted your hips again. Everything was too loud, the ugly noise of skin slapping skin echoing off of the walls, your ragged  breathing, and your heart thundering like an engine. It was more than you could take to hear Zenos moan too, low in his chest, his hips finally meeting yours as he grew closer to his own end. 

You only realized Zenos didn’t intend to pull out at the point that his hips were stuttering, his hands holding onto you tight enough that his thumbs could touch, each uneven stroke pushing his cock as deep as possible. 

“Nn-No, you ca-can’t,” you said, fresh tears in your eyes. 

“You will take my seed,” Zenos said, openly wearing his pleasure at your reaction as he stared down at you. “Be grateful.” 

It wasn’t any more or less miserable than all that had already happened, but the facsimile of intimacy made you whimper. So cruel. Zenos watched you as he came, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. His fingers dug bruises into your waist. Your entire body jolted with each uneven thrust, your cunt squeezing his cock as if you wanted this. And you could have sworn you felt his cum against your painfully raw inner walls as he came. He didn’t waste any of it, not pulling out until he was entirely finished.  

Zenos let you fall onto the floor, his breathing heavy as he sat back. You curled your legs inward, wincing at the mess oozing out of you. There was no part of you that wasn’t painful and messy. Covered in blood and sweat and bruises, half naked, and utterly exhausted. Unlike you, Zenos didn’t look all that much worse for wear. Nothing that couldn’t be easily fixed. Sparing no moment for sentimentality of any kind, he fixed his clothes. There was nothing you could do about your own.  

“You will forgive me,” Zenos said, his voice low and husky. “In my enthusiasm… mayhap I went too far.” 

There was nothing to make you profoundly regret every single one of your previous decisions like looking into the empty blue eyes of your enemy feeling a mixture of blood and cum ooze out of you. Unsure if you could trust your voice, you just glared at him. His lips curled with the slightest promise of amusement. 

“Yes, it is a shame our time was so limited,” he said, standing up. “But we both have more important matters to attend to.” 

He stooped down to grab his coat on the way out. It was sprinkled with dried blood. You hoped it was ruined. 

“I’ll kill you, you know,” you said when he was at the door. Your voice was hoarse and ruined, but the words were clear enough. You meant them too. Not even out of malice, it just seemed so strikingly obvious. “Unless you kill me now.”  

Zenos hesitated and, for a second, you wondered if he was actually going to do it. “Go lick your wounds,” he finally said. Once the door was open, he paused again, speaking without turning around. “Until we meet again, my beast.” 

[owlespresso]

do u have any fic/author recs at the moment? for any of ur fandoms!

TONS, but here's a short list of authors and fics that I adore. All of the following authors are absolute inspirations to me and I thank them for putting their creations into the world, for us to read.

Just a heads up, I adore dark content so a lot of the writers and fics I will recommend will contain said content.

@seoafin writes for Jujutsu Kaisen, but they also have some writings for Trigun. Their characterizations are incredibly on point and I adore their takes on Geto and Gojo, including the dynamics between them + the protagonist of their AU ripverse.

@strawberrygodzilla has a fic about Zenos that BEATS ASS and their character voice for Zenos (and every other character including the WOL) is so clear and accurate like every time they write Zenos's dialogue I'm like... "wow, he really WOULD say that". I've teared up several times reading their fic here, at the end of all things.

@chickenparm, whose profile I religiously check on ao3 and just discovered has a blog on tumblr, writes BANGER Genshin fanfics with to die for smut. Their fics about Childe are among my favorite. Give of Yourself has stuck with me in particular.

@softagenda has been providing the Touchstarved fandom with easily some of its best fanfictions, expanding on concepts introduced in the demo and adding some of their own world building. My favorite fic of theirs is silver linings.

@ddarker-dreams just has a way of writing and worldbuilding that really takes my breath away. The amount of depth and forethought put into her Blade fic, Nexus, still stuns and awes me a month after its completion. She's written heaps for Genshin Impact and is now starting on a JJK series. She also writes a lot about Chrollo Lucifer, from HxH. I haven't watched a single episode of the show, but she has somehow made me invested in this character. Whenever I see mention of him elsewhere, I go "ah, the man ddarker-dreams writes about".

@lorelune writes for Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail and JJK. I love their work but their little blurbs they post every now and then also completely have my whole heart. their hybrid AU Blade fic hell is a hound without a chain has been living in my head ever since they dropped it. I adore their characterization of Blade and Jing Yuan in particular! Their Gojo fic dawn instinct hits me so hard.

@agent-cupcake writes for FFXIV AND JJK but I found them through Fire Emblem Three Houses. I've been following their work for awhile and I adore each and every piece. Their prose is beautiful and their dark content is to die for. I'm biased so my favorite piece is Asteria, but I also am continuously obsessed with Raison D'etre, Vae Victis (FFXIV), Femme Fatale and living idly and dying as if dreaming.

@hawnks is a fantastic writer who I discovered through her soulmate AU fics. coincide and the first law of motion are absolute classics, but she's been writing a soulmate series for Gojo which has been utterly fascinating for far. I would also like to thank her for introducing me and many others to Guideverse which I would love to write something on in the future!

[wol-taleal-desharn]

And in the end....

Return (to me)

WoL x Graha

Endwalker endgame

Smut at the end

She had brought them all back to her…and now Taleal had to let them go to protect them.

"No!” Alisae yelled, watching as Taleal - her friend, big sister, mentor - released her mini-teleporter to the wind that held the rest of the Scions aloft in the sky.

The last thing Alisae saw was Taleal’s sad, apologetic smile before they vanished.

~*~

“Hnnngh….” A collection of moans sounded throughout the Ragnarok as the Scions collected their senses.

“Everyone here? All accounted for?” Livingway pipped up, looking the group over. The Lopporits had been certainly surprised to see the Scions appear in the command room of the ship.

One by one, murmurs rose from each of them that they were all right and present.

“Wait, where…”

“Tally?” Thancred frowned, looking around the room.

There was no answer.

“Where is she!?” G’raha cried, looking around frantically. The Miquo’te took note of all who had returned to the ship, easily noting the only one who was absent… His tail twitched in sharp, jerking motions, ears pinning back against his head.

It was Alisae who finally answered. “She…she stayed behind.” A sob ripped from her throat as she ducked her head; Alpinaud moved to comfort his twin.

“She activated the teleporter…and let hers go!” Alisae continued, tears falling from the young elezen’s eyes. “Damn…damn her! She stayed behind!”

G’raha felt like he’d been struck. “No. No…she…” He shook his head. How could she have done that to them? To him? Send them away at the last and stay behind. Again. The Exarch did the first thing that came to mind — he bolted for the hatch. He was going to go back there and fight with her, damn it all! And then give his Warrior a piece of his mind for doing something so reckless and…and stupid!

Or at least he was, till he was stopped mid bolt by annoyingly strong pairs of arms grabbing him from behind. G’raha fought and struggled against the two who held him, not even bothering to look to see who would stop him at such a time.

“Nay, friend. Thou wouldst make her sacrifice in vain if thou were to try to return to her side now.” Urianger stated, voice low and full of sadness. “Thou must stay here, and wait. Pray that our friend doth return to us soon, and returns successful in her endeavors.”

G’raha let out a low growl, trying to free himself. It was Thancred who spoke next.

“G’raha, listen. If I know nothing else of Tally, she won’t just give up at the end. She has the Twelve’s own luck on her side. She’ll find a way back to us. To…to you. So you have to be patient, hard as it is.”

The others murmur agreement. It takes a few minutes, but Urianger and Thancred finally let G’raha go when he stops fighting them. The Miqo’te lets himself fall to the floor on hands and knees, head bowed, hair hiding his face from the rest of the Scions.

“We…we have to hold on to hope, and pray. Pray for her and her success.” Y’shtola finally pipes up. “And when she gets back, we can all give her a piece of our minds for that stunt she pulled.”

~*~

Some time later…

It was done.

The fight with the Endsinger, the fight with Zenos…

It was all done.

I’m sorry, my Raha, everyone, she thought. I have no way back now…

Taleal laid there, mere feet from Zenos, staring up at the…sky? It was hard to call it a sky, in this place that was the end of all things.

At least…at least everyone is safe.

She could cry, and did in fact feel a few tears fall at the thought of leaving her loved ones behind. Of leaving G’raha behind, in particular, and promises that would now be unkept.

Oh, my love, my dearest Raha… I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Travel the world, see the wonders we have yet to see. Show you Ishgard, and Othard…

Taleal, the vaunted Warrior of Light, Champion of Eorzea, felt her consciousness fading fast, with only the stars and a dead body as her final companions. In her last moments of coherent thought, she heard a beeping….

~*~

The Scions were beginning to lose hope. Meteion had come to them, proclaiming Taleal was right behind her. But when she did not appear, worry gripped their hearts. How long had it been, since the little bird had said their Warrior was suppose to return to them?

And then suddenly, there she was, in their midst, her teleporter mere ilms from her fingertips.

G’raha was, instinctively, elated — she had come back! But then fear gripped his heart, seeing her condition. His eyes widened, and it felt like someone had taken over his body as he moved quickly to her side. He pressed a hand to her chilled cheek, and nearly choked when she did not respond. She lay unmoving on the floor of the Ragnarok.

The Exarch’s movements set off everyone else, and they all moved in, getting to work in a flurry. G��raha reached her first, cradling her head in his lap. Her wounds, he could tell, were extensive and grievous. It brought tears to his eyes - and not just his, he noted. Alisae was weeping, crying out for Taleal to open her eyes.

“Please…open your eyes…” he called out as well. He brushed some sweat and blood soaked white hair from her face, hoping against hope for her to wake up. The tears stinging his eyes began to fall, splashing the auri’s cheeks.

“Don’t you dare leave me. Not now.”

Alphinaud, Y’shtola, and Urianger had already begun to cast their healing magics, working frantically to save their friend. Thancred and Estinien stood off to the side, out of the way but close enough to see what was going on. Alisae sat next to G’raha, both pleading and cursing Tally to wake up.

“Please…” Alisae sobbed, gripping Taleal’s hand in a death grip. “You can’t leave us, not like this! If you do, I’ll -never- forgive you! So come on! Open your eyes and get up!”

G’raha’s heart broke for the young elezen. He, too, wished with everything in his being that Taleal would wake up. He found himself echoing her words, to please wake up, just open your eyes…

Please….open your eyes. Wake up, come back to me…

As if in answer to their cries and prayers…

She opened her eyes. Slowly but surely — G’raha thought he must have been seeing things at first, imagining it, even. But no, there were those beautiful blue eyes he loved so dearly, staring up at him.

“Are you…are you with us?” Alphinaud piped up, hopeful but uncertain. Everyone crowded in, watching their fellow Scion with unbridled hope and precarious joy.

The first thing Taleal saw when she finally opened her eyes was G’raha — wonderful, beautiful G’raha, his red eyes full of tears. Why was he crying…? With a shakey hand, she reached up for one of his, grasping it carefully, for fear that this was a dream. When he didn’t disappear, but yet was wonderfully real and solid, she let out a rather large sigh of relief. He flipped his hand so that he was holding hers, giving a gentle yet firm squeeze.

Alphinaud and Alisae caught her attention immediately after, and she offered them a weak but sincere smile.

“For a moment, we thought….” Alphinaud trailed off, a sob wracking his small form.

Taleal shook her head carefully. “Is…is everyone all right?” She murmured.

G’raha’s sob wracked voice spoke up next. “After what you’ve done — you’re the last person…” He sniffed, wiping at his eyes, “… to be asking that.” Despite the tears, he smiled down at her, relief and worry clear in his red allagan eyes.

“You…how can you keep your promises if you’re not here??” G’raha finally chided her as he wiped at his eyes.

“Another fine show you’ve put on, my friend.” Estinien towered over the rest, looking down on Taleal with a small smirk. She offered him a light laugh, wincing as she did so.

Y’shtola piped up next, “Another fine show, indeed. What were you thinking, fighting alone?? Never do that again! My poor heart couldn’t bear it. And neither could G’raha’s, for that matter.” Nevertheless, her gaze was that of relief and joy that her friend had returned.

“Put yourself in our place. If you hadn’t returned, how do you think we’d feel?? And if that sounded harsh…its because we care.” Thancred took his turn to chide Taleal, arms crossing as he stood next to Y’shtola.

Urianger moved to kneel between G’raha and Alphinaud. “We tended thy wounds as best we could, little sister. But how is the pain?”

Taleal sat up, slowly, with G’raha’s help. She tried, and failed, not to wince at the pain in her side...and front…and everywhere, really. Regardless, she managed another smile and a nod. “I think I can manage.”

“That is gladdening. Grievous as thy wounds were, I would counsel repose for a time.”

“Gladdening?? There’s NOTHING gladdening about this! When Meteion appeared in here, and told us you were right behind her, we got our hopes up!,” Alisae was near shouting as she slammed her fists into the floor of the ship, “But you never came! And when you deign to appear, you’re within an ilm of your life — damn you for making us worry!” Tears stung the elezen’s eyes again, leaning over to hug Tally carefully around the shoulders.

~*~

Once the ship had landed, and they had made their way through all the fanfare and cheers, the Scions retreated to the Baldesion Annex. Even there, though, they found Tataru and Krile and prepared a feast in celebration.

Taleal and G’raha managed to slip away down the hall from the festivities, tired but grinning. Almost like students sneaking off, G’raha found a small nook, pulling Taleal into it, and pulling her into a tight hug.

“I was so worried…” he started, burying his face in her hair, “…when you didn’t appear with us. And then you didn’t come when Meteion said you were. You scared me near to death.” G’raha tried to hide it, but Taleal could hear the shaking in his voice, could feel it as she hid her face against his chest. The dim sounds of laughter and chatter from down the hall could still be heard, but was far enough away that the two had what seemed to be complete privacy. For that, they were grateful.

“I am sorry, Raha - it…it was the only thing I could think of. With the Endsinger, and then she was taking all of you from me again. I had to make sure you were safe. I couldn’t…I couldn’t bear the thought of —“

“Don’t ever send me away like that again. Please.”

She shook her head against his chest, breathing in the smell of his clothes, his scent. It brought tears to her eyes, knowing how close she had come to not being able to have this moment after the fight.

“No. Never again.”

He made a humming sort of noise that sounded like an affirmative. G’raha hooked his fingers under Tally’s chin, lifting it up as he leaned in to kiss her sweetly.

“Good. I would stay by your side through anything, as long as you’ll let me. I love you to much to be parted from you.”

“You — what?” It took Taleal a moment to process what he had said. She thought her heart would burst when she DID realize what exactly he had spoken, and a wide grin broke out on her face.

G’raha hesitated. “I — I said —“

“I love you too, Raha.”

He let out a deep breath, smiling.

Tally reached for his hands, laced her fingers with his, and then gave a small tug to leave the nook.

G’raha, curious, followed.

~*~

It only took them a few minutes to reach her room there in the Annex. Silently, the pair entered. It was dark, the only light in the room coming from the moon shining through the open window.

Once the door was closed, G’raha reached for Tally, pulling her back to him, this time her back against his chest.

“I feel like if I let you go to far you’ll vanish in front of me again…” he leaned in, lips playing at the skin under her horns, down to the nape of her neck.

Taleal closed her eyes, shivering at this use of his lips. She lifted a hand, fingers finding his hair and the base of his ear, nails softly scratching at the skin playfully. This earned her a surprised moan from G’raha.

“I won’t vanish, love. I am here, with you. And I intend to stay that way.” She turned in his arms so that she could face him, eyes full of emotion.

G’raha, too, had a great mix of emotions in his eyes and his heart. But right now the only thing he wanted was to be with Taleal. They moved together, this time, and lips met in a heated, passionate kiss.

The pair broke from their kiss long enough to move the few steps to the bed, where Tally sat down, and G’raha stood over her. G’raha knelt, lips finding the auri’s neck again - but his fingers were not idle, either. They began to find the buckles and buttons of the rogue’s leather armor, making surprisingly quick work of the first few layers. Soon enough, pauldrons and bracers had found their way to the floor.

Tally, too, had set herself to work; it was easy enough to remove the scarf and vest G’raha wore, throwing them to the floor along with her bits of armor. She wanted him close, without anything between them, and she couldn’t get everything off fast enough.

“’Raha…” she murmured his name, tilting her head back as her eyes drifted half-closed, humming at the sensation of his lips and fingers on her skin.

G’raha finally managed to undo the chestpiece that Taleal wore, tossing it to the side as well. Deft fingers played at the edge of the thin shirt she wore underneath, ticking her pale, bruised skin.

“…should I stop?” he muttered between butterfly kisses, working down from her neck to her collarbone.

“Gods, no. Don’t stop, please.” She replied in a breathy whisper. She tugged at his tunic, trying to get the thing off with no luck.

G’raha chuckled, pulling back long enough to pull the tunic over his head, exposing his bare chest to the auri. All that was left was the bits of jewelry he insisted on wearing, the gold warm against his skin.

Tally hummed, half-lidded eyes taking in the sight of a shirtless G’raha. She reached for his hands, guiding them back to the hemline of her own tunic. Taking the hint, he pulled the tunic up and over her head, leaving her in just her breastband.

The exarch took a moment to enjoy the sight of her, just as she was enjoying the sight of him. Tally reached back, undoing the breastband with ease, tossing it aside, leaving herself completely exposed to her lover. A hint of pink covered her pale cheeks.

- Oh gods, I’m so small, he might not — no.. - she thought, trying to catch his gaze.

She reached for him again, fingertips playing along his jaw - the miqo’te leaned his face into her touch, letting his eyes drift shut for a moment - then up into his hair, gently pulling him back to her. The exarch was more than happy to meet her gaze, red eyes dark and filled with love and desire.

“You… you’re beautiful, you know that?” he was still kneeling before her, this time his fingers working their way up her stomach, playing over scales, scars,bruises still healing, and skin pale as moonlight. She shivered against his touch, light, breathy moans escaping her lips. Feeling properly encouraged, G’raha leaned in, once again kissing his way over her body, picking up from where he left off at her collarbone. He worked his way down, hot butterfly kisses leaving a trail down her chest until he reached her breasts.

Tally was trying to hold as still as she could, shivering in excitement and anticipation as she was. She did not want to rush this, not this night. The auri let her fingers play through his hair and down his back, nails gently scratching at G’raha’s skin, leaving goosebumps on the miqo’te.

She could tell he did not want to rush either, so she looked down when he suddenly paused his ministrations. He gazed back up to her with a smile, watching her as he leaned in, taking a nipple into his mouth. He licked and sucked, teasing at her breast. One arm wrapped about her waist to hold her, the other went to her other breast, playing and teasing there.

With a gasp, Taleal threw her head back, eyes closed, a hand digging into G’raha’s hair at the nape of his neck as she arched her back. Her breathing was becoming ragged and fast, throaty moans and murmuring the scion’s name.

“Raha…Raha please…”

He did not verbally reply; instead, he moved so that he took the other breast in his mouth, earning a louder moan. G’raha could feel her trying to move beneath him, quivering with built up anticipation. He hummed against her skin, releasing her breasts, and let his fingers glide down her skin to the edge of her pants.

- Should have started with the boots….- he thought with a chuckle. He pulled away, then, to remove first his boots, then hers. He felt himself straining against his pants, wishing for nothing more than to push Taleal down onto the bed and be within her; but he knew he wanted to wait, if just a bit longer. He did not want to rush this and ruin the mood, no. He would take this slow, and, gods forbid, give her a chance to stop things if she was not ready.

Once boots were removed, Taleal reached down and took G’raha’s hands before he could resume his previous position, and pulled him up to where he was level with her, and pressed a burning kiss to his lips, deep and wanting. The Warrior of Light scooted back, pulling him with her till she was laying down, and he on top of her.

“T-Tally…” he moaned her name into her mouth, letting his hands explore her body more. Really, G’raha felt like he would never tire of touching her, of finding new spots to memorize. Beneath him, she slowly rolled her hips against his, and he nearly cried out at the pleasure of it.

There was no more waiting - Tally’s fingers were at the laces of his pants, and he’d found the laces of hers. It was a flurry of activity, but the sound of the last remnants of clothes hitting the floor met their ears in the silence of the room.

He had waited so long for this - through the hundred years on the First, to now - he savored every second of it. He ached to be inside her, but… Soon. Instead, he let his hands drift down, along the swell of her hips and down her thigh, almost to the outside of her knee before dragging his fingertips up the inner thigh.

Taleal let out light, gaspy breaths, humming and moaning and whispering his name. Squirming, she moved to give him better access, and was rewarded when his hand found her wet, slick clit.

Gods, he thought, how did I ever come to deserve this? Surely he didn’t, and this was a dream. He played with her, stroking up and down slowly at first, almost teasing in the light pressure he gave her. Tally moved against him, arching herself into his hand for more.

“Raha…Raha -please-….” She was very nearly at a whine, brain fuzzy from pleasure and wanting, begging for more. Her hands were not idle, however, and found and wrapped around his hard, aching member, and the miqo’te let out a cry when her small hands gave a firm stroke. She found a rhythm to match his own, stroking up and down slowly, from head to hilt.

Leaning down, he nibbled at her neck as he continued working his fingers on her clit, enjoying her gasps and ragged breathing, the rolling of her hips in time with his fingers. With one deft movement, he slid down, sliding a finger into her entrance, then two, which earned him a beautiful, wordless cry of pleasure. He picked up the pace, wanting to feel her come for him.

“That’s it love….let go…” he whispered, the words breathless against her skin. She, too, had picked up the pace, her strokes almost jerky in motion, desperate for release. She was close, he could feel it, but so was he…

G’raha grabbed her hand from his cock, pulling it up over her head and pinning it down. He growled, the sound rumbling low in his throat, fucking her harder with his fingers, thumb rubbing at her clit, till she cried out again, body arching up and spasming as she came. He slowed as the aftershocks hit, stopping finally when she stilled. He nuzzled and kissed her, sending little shivers down her back as he did so.

“Fuck…Raha…” she was practically purring, if such a thing was possible. She gazed up at him, eyes dark with desire. “Your turn, my Raha.” Tally squirmed, shifting so that she positioned herself beneath him. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” He nuzzled her neck, and she nodded.

“I am, love.”

He kissed her deeply as he entered her, sliding in till he was hilt deep, both moaning in pleasure. G’raha waited a moment, to let her adjust to him, before he started a slow, easy thrust.

Tally wrapped her legs around his, rolling her hips against G’raha’s when he started moving. They easily found a rhythm, slow and steady, taking their time in their love making. The lovers exchanged sweet nothings, murmuring, moaning and gasping.

G’raha began picking up the pace, thrusts becoming faster, harder, more urgent. He could feel her clenching around him, and gods, it felt so good, it urged him on faster, harder. He wanted her to come again, but felt himself coming close to his own release; G’raha wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on…

It was her nails digging into his back that sent him over the edge. She clawed at his back with her free hand, certainly leaving scratches. He thrust in hard as he cried out her name, head falling into the crook of her neck as he bit down on the tender skin there.

Tally cried out in an echo of his own, his orgasm triggering her own second release. At last, they fell back, G’raha on top of Taleal, both breathing heavy. Sweat soaked, they nuzzled and lazily kissed each other in any spot they could get to - shoulders, neck, lips.

“I love you.” G’raha murmured, fingers lazily tracing patterns on Taleal’s stomach. Taleal, likewise, was running her fingers up and down his back, just enjoying each others touch and the warmth of each other so close.

“I love you too, my Raha.” She answered with a small, sweet smile. Carefully, G’raha pulled himself out of Taleal before settling back down next to her, pulling her up and against his chest.

Taleal nuzzled in, face buried in the miqo’te’s chest with a satisfied sigh. Together, the pair fell into a blissful, deep sleep.

[badger-bear]

Hiiii, 3 and 12 for the book asks please? 😊📚

3. What were your top five books of the year?

Beasts of the Briar series by Elizabeth Helen

The series isn't completely done, in fact the third book came out today! It's a why choose fantasy beauty and the beast retelling and I'm obsessed with it.

The Right Move by Liz Tomforde

Ryan Shay is the ultimate cutie patootie book boyfriend. This book is a fake dating romance. It absolutely delighted me! There are two others connected with this one but they aren't necessary to read and this is the best one.

Corrupted By You by Marzy Opal

Arranged marriage mafia romance 😍🥵 need I say more??? I rated this book 5 stars. Zeno Gianni De La Croix is my mafia boss book husband and everyone better put some respect on his name. There is a religious element in the smut which I typically don't like but this book made it work. I know I have only talked about the sexiness of this book but I did like the plot as well lol

Master of Salt and Bones by Keri Lake

The entire time I read this book I couldn't tell if the main male character was actually bad/morally grey or not. The setting of this book felt like one of the characters. I don't remember all of the plot but I am including it on this list for the feelings alone.

The Librarian of Souls by Ash Raven

I went into this book thinking I was going to have a good time reading smutty scenarios with the sandman. But I finished the book in love with the characters, the world in which they live and the setting. The plot was a little easy to figure out in parts but I really, really enjoyed it. I genuinely think about this book every few days.

12. Any books that disappointed you?

Yes, I have a tiny list.

Pucking Around by Emily Rath. DNF'd because of normalizing abuse. I wanted to like it because why choose/hockey romance!!!!

The Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros. DNF'd because it felt like a culmination of the most popular books in the mid2000s and not in a good way. I kept wanting to like it but I was bored and I pushed myself further than I normally do when I think I'm going to dnf a book. I wanted to like it because I like fantasy books.

Credence by Penelope Douglas. It's saying something when the worst part about a book isn't the incest. This book romanticized abuse, specifically domestic abuse. I love a good taboo romance but this wasn't it.

[doomednarrative]

My bestie @catgirladjacent tagged me in a little "20 questions for fic writers" ask game so :3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

12 currently

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

29,178. I mostly write one shots lol

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently I have on my ao3 published fics for FFXIV, Pathologic, Resident Evil, Borderlands and Gotham Rogues. I don't really actively write for any of those except FFXIV and Resident Evil these days however, along with various Kamen Rider shows and some BG3 stuff.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

God this is gonna make me cringe cause it's all older stuff I don't like as much anymore lol except for the RE ones

Help Me, Heal Me - 191 kudos

I Think She Knew Everything You Are - 196 kudos (nice)

He Always Held Him When He Cried - 98 kudos

No Sleep - 93 kudos

You Are Yourself - 77 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments?

Usually yeah. I rarely get them so it's nice to see when people do actually leave them

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Surprisingly as much as I Love writing angst, none of my published fics actually really end on an angsty note. The closest would have to be "Doing Your Best (And Still Failing)" because it was written about my WoL A'cera after losing his first fight with Zenos during Stormblood, so it's a bunch of his raw emotions from the encounter.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably "Just Exhale", which is my personal take on the end of the MSQ for Endwalker with my WoL Alyx after they land back in the Ragnarok following the encounter with Meteion.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope, never have

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

Only in my rp's with Tibby lol, or Occasionally something that won't ever get published that's just for myself. Usually it's oc/canon stuff that's just self indulgent for the sake of it ~

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

No lol it takes a Lot for me to enjoy crossovers unless it concerns toku stuff since those actually happen in canon

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Hmm sort of? I hash out ideas with friends sometimes but I do all the actual writing for anything I publish myself

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

If we wanna go solely by what I've actually Published? Hades/Hythlodaeus/Azem or Wol, I really like writing my personally FFXIV stuff when I'm in the mood. If we wanna go off of unfinished wips by number tho? Hoffstrahm and Chreon by a fuckin mile, those two fucked my brain up for long spans of time

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

There's a few honestly:

"Kiss me baby with your hapsburg lip," one of my many Hoffstrahm wips in my au verse shared with Tibby about Peter having to sew up Mark's face after the bear trap incident, only in this au it's much more comedy than horror

I have at least 5 different Hellhopper fics in my drafts, I would like to finish ONE of them at least someday

My fuckin multichapter Hotline Miami BikerJacket fic aughhh. I havent given up hope with it for how much of it I actually do have plotted out but god it'd take so long to write

I have a whole little various connected one shot series I was working on as a fix it series to the OOO 10th vcine, would love to finish them but I would have to rewatch OOO to pick the character voice back up for it

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, it's the thing everyone always points out to me that they enjoy in my writing and it's usually always the starting point for my fics

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Prose lol. I struggle so hard sometimes with connecting scenes and describing whats happening when people aren't actively speaking. I've gotten better at it but it took a lot of conscious effort to learn it

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I rarely do it, most things I write are in my native language media already, but whenever I do it I usually just italicize it, write it in English and make mention of the language switch in the paragraph somewhere so the reader knows it's happened

19. First fandom you wrote for?

DRAGON BALL Z BABEYYY I'm not ashamed of that I still love DBZ so much. I was so shameless and wrote my own oc to be Vegeta's cousin in one of my first fics and I had fun doing it. They've long since been deleted, not because I Wanted to do so but for other reasons I don't feel like going into rn.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

"Help Me, Heal Me" by far out of my published ones. It's my most solid out of them and I feel like I really nailed Chris and Leon's dynamic well in it, it's the one I'm most proud of ~

Hrmm let's see, I think I'll tag @silenthillmutual, @lunar-gl1tch, @skajador @adrianicsea and @stickers-on-a-laptop for this one ~