#I always like that facet of her though
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I had not notices the scarring and tattoos on screenshots until reading that ask. How many tattoos does Jak have?
She now has four! I'll see about linking some refs, though funnily enough... despite how large her biggest one is, even, she's shockingly good at hiding her tattoos, despite how little clothing she seems to wear at times. In this old art piece you can see the dragon tattoo that wraps around her right thigh, almost down to her knee, and goes all the way up her back and torso, and wraps around from the back to have its head over her shoulder, to rest right at the top of her breast. (That's one of my first pieces, she was whitewashed in it, and the jackal tattoo on her forearm isn't accurate.) Here's a screenshot set in which you can kind of make out most of her tattoos, as well - though I'll say that even the jackal tattoo I have here isn't quite right, still. Tattoo commissioning is hard even for fake people, lol!
Then there are the two on her forearms - she has a line art jackal on her left inner forearm, and a set of three falling phoenix down feathers on her inner right inner wrist/forearm. All of these are black-inked tattoos. Her most recent one is a watercolor robin that's inked under her left breast, along her ribcage - and is the only one with any color! This is on purpose. All of her tattoos are representative of her. As much as she pierces and tattoos herself so she'll look less like the Girl Who Came Before™... each tattoo is pretty representative of a facet of her.
The Dragon - she has a fiery personality, she's greedy, egotistical, and looks down on most others. She considers herself above most, powerful, and more than willing to spit fire to cut someone down to size. (Not to mention hoarding shiny things. :P) Plus, she's pretty damn clever - she'll talk you in circles, if you're not careful.
The Jackal tattoo is pretty self-explanatory: she's the only member left alive from the J tribe, and the Jackal is representative of her culture, and who she is. The Jackal survives at all costs - what the Jackal wants/needs comes first.
The phoenix down feathers on her wrist is a matching tattoo she got with her twin brother... who has since abandoned her. It was (and remains), however, a reminder that she always gets back up. No matter how bad it is, she always rises from the ashes. I've also considered tying certain 'rebirth-esque' moments to each of the three feathers in her mind, but I'm not sure. It's undoubtedly a statement about survival - once again at all costs. She will always get back up from the fire.
And last but most certainly not least - the robin tattoo! This one took a lot of thought, and is the only one impacted by someone not herself. 'Little Robin' is what Ketsuchi, her lover, calls her. It began as a sort of tease - something to get under her skin, and it worked! But these days, it means a lot more to her. Little Robin or no, she works hard and gets what she wants, and survives despite being a 'little bird.' And much like how she sees Ketsuchi as someone who has brought color into an otherwise colorless, unremarkable, unbearable existence... this is the only tattoo with color (much like how in her sketch book, sketches of him are the only ones with color, as well). Getting a permanent mark on her body that is a testament to how much someone else means to her is...huge. No one was ever supposed to mean anything to her - and he has so impacted her, that the Little Robin has become just one more facet of who she is: Jackal, Robin, Dragon...survivor.
(Notably, she has permanent scarring on her arms from Ketsuchi that she has come to like - so theoretically she already had a permanent mark to show his impact on her...but that's not the same as choosing to mark yourself to show how important that person has become.)
I didn't initially intend for her to care much about hiding her tattoos, but I discovered that no matter the outfit, I ended up making Jak accidentally sort of cover body parts that had the tattoos...so it ended up being kind of canon: she's covered in illustrations that tell you exactly who she is, if you know how to interpret them. However, half the time... you can't even see them. The one most easily seen is often the lower half of the dragon's tail along her thigh, and its head that peeks out of many shirts/tops... which should be more than enough to warn people, though it rarely (if ever) dissuades anyone from testing the Dragon's ire.
#thanks for asking!#ffxiv#ffxiv rp#lfrp ffxiv#miqo'te#as much as she's closed off#hilariously she's kind of an open book if you can interpret the tattoo work#or even see it to begin with#I always like that facet of her though#tattooing herself to hide who she WAS - but doing so in a manner that tells the new story of who she has BECOME
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genuinely not quite sure why i am so deeply uncomfortable when it comes to telling ppl abt my personal/romantic life. like i want them to know but i also don’t like admitting to anyone out loud that i have emotions, feelings, and/or relations resembling anything beyond superficial interest. i mean jesus. how cringe. they should just intuit it all psychically or something so they can know without me ever having to bring it up myself
#like i’ve always been like this i didn’t tell my parents that i was dating my hs girlfriend for months#not bc i was scared of what they would say. i knew they’d take it fine. they knew i was gay and they knew i was close friends w her#but the thought of having to confess to my parents that i had romantic feelings for someone. and that she had romantic feelings for me.#that thought? EXCRUCIATING. MORTIFYING.#i was fine with them knowing it theoretically#but i just could not bring myself to admit to them face to face. UNPROMPTED. that i was dating somebody.#i ended up texting them as CASUALLY AS POSSIBLE in the family gc a like 12 in the morning#like hey btw just a heads up me and [girl] are dating okay bye#like lmaaooo they probably don’t even REMEMBER this now but i vividly remember drafting that text at the time like jesusss chriiiiiissstttt#but that was also true for my best friend i didn’t tell HER i was dating my gf for a while TOO and i don’t think i actually told any of our#friends just let them learn via osmosis and that was great that was ideal#i just don’t feel comfortable talking about myself to other people at all like in person#obviously writing it all out is fine like i’m sharing this on my blog bc again I don’t mind people knowing stuff#i just don’t like having a one on one conversation with anybody about any facet of my identity feelings personhood at all#and again i don’t know why that’s true. it’s kinda funny. it’s also something i’m gonna have to just suck up and take like sorry kid#welcome to the mortifying ordeal of being known#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#anyways lmao i was just thinking about that again bc. well for obvious reasons but also because it happened during pride month LMAO#and looking up pride events near me this evening reminded me of that specifically#man#i guess i haven’t changed at all since i was 16 lol#better taste in people now though i think#cest la vie and all that
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The Guilt (Alastor x Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader)
Description: Y/n was the one person he never meant to kill, but Alastor didn't have a choice. Years later, much to his surprise, they run into one another in the depths of Pentagram City.
Warnings: Murder, cannibalism mentioned in a metaphoric sense. Un-detailed descriptions of rotting bodies.
Word Count: 2,701
Master Lists:
Master Lists
Hazbin Hotel Master List
A/N I promise I will get to the rest of the requests soon, I just wanted to write something that has been stuck in my head for a hot minute since I've like only been doing requests the past couple days. I think the only ones I have left are ones that have been sent in since February 15th so I hope that is okay.
Alastor recognized her the minute he first saw her. It had been a year since his arrival in Hell and he was already making waves. Demons avoided him on the streets, shot him fearful glances over their shoulders. He enjoyed the privacy it afforded him, the padding of air around him.
He didn't pay the others mind, focused on his own goals and patterns of being. Friends, relationships, they were far from his top priority but still, Alastor recognized her the minute he first saw her.
In his years of blood soaked escapades in the world of the living, he had wreaked havoc on the world. In all those years, he had only ever made two mistakes. The first had been getting caught, getting killed by that hunter. The second? Had been killing that girl.
He hadn't had a choice. Normally, Alastor chose his victims carefully following a specific criteria. She had been an accident. He had gotten careless one night, cocky even in his streak of successes. Alastor had been transfixed, carving a man's intestines from the cavity of his stomach. The girl had had wide eyes, her mouth open. She had trembled.
Their eyes had met across the darkened street. She had clutched at her coat, pulling it tighter. She hadn't even tried to run.
Alastor never learned her name, avoided all reports on her disappearance and death like the plague. She haunted him. He saw her around corners, when he shut his eyes at night like a vengeful spirit. Always just staring at him with those big, knowing eyes. He didn't need more reminders, more facets of feeling, than he already had.
Alastor had recognized her the minute he first laid eyes on her in Hell. It had taken him a moment to realize she was real, she still looked so deeply human after all. He had never expected her to be here. He had never expected to see her again.
When he opened his eyes and she was still there, sitting placidly at the cafe table, it was like some uncontrollable force pulled him to her. He pulled out the spare chair, falling lazily into it. She looked up at the noise of metal against concrete, curiosity painting her features as she lowered her book onto the table.
"Hello?" she said after a moment, though it was more of a question than a greeting.
Alastor had never heard her voice before except for when she had screamed. It was melodious, it was soft and sweet. His smile grew.
"Yes, hello indeed."
She stared at him with those eyes, those same eyes that had haunted him for years.
"My apologies but, who are you? Do I know you?"
He was unable to keep the surprise from his features. It had been a long time since anyone had asked him something like that, he couldn't tell if she was joking. But then there were those wide eyes, earnest in their honesty.
"No, my apologies. I did not introduce myself. My name is Alastor, quite the pleasure to meet you. Quiet the pleasure."
He grabbed her hand from where it lay daintily across her open book, shaking it in his own.
"Oh!" Y/n lightly exclaimed in response to the action, "Oh, well, Alastor, I am Y/n. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well."
The contact broke and Alastor leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands.
"Forgive me for saying this but, you seem a bit unsuited for all this mess. Prim and proper. What landed you here?"
"Is that why you've come to join me?"
Alastor nodded after a second's thought. It was an easy cover up for his true motives. Y/n seemed to have no idea who he was after all and to be perfectly honest, even Alastor himself was struggling to understand his motivations. Guilt wasn't an emotion he was familiar with. It was confusing, writhed in the pit of his stomach like a snake.
"Well, thats a rather personal question to ask someone right off the bat, isn't it?"
"I suppose you're right. How about this one then, what are you reading?"
After that day at the cafe, Alastor followed Y/n like a hurt puppy. He didn't rightly know why. It was a compulsion of a sort, he couldn't stop it. She was disinterested by radio, by the newfangled video boxes popping up. She knew nothing of his reputation, she just thought he was a friend. A fairly determined friend, but a friend none the less.
Alastor didn't understand it. He was a man obsessed, not with Y/n per say but with the opportunity she offered. She smelled like making good on past wrongs. That wasn't something Alastor had ever been interested in before. Y/n was the exception. She was always the exception, he supposed.
It wasn't long before their little lunches, their random rendezvous in the streets, carefully orchestrated by Alastor of course, not that she knew, became something more. Spending time with her calmed the raging sea of uncertainty in his gut. Being kind to her felt like salvation.
Alastor had never been concerned with that before, but it was such an intoxicating thing to hear her words of thanks, of praise. To witness her smiles and her apparently unending kindness. They would spend hours pouring over one another's collections of books. They would spend hours in deep philosophic discussion. It was Y/n who first brought up their previous lives.
"Do you ever miss it?" she had asked when they had been making lunch together one day in her apartment.
Alastor's hand had stilled, his knife halfway through the cut of veal he had been handeling.
"Miss what, my dear?"
"Life."
He began to move the knife again, letting out a slight hum of thought.
"Not particularly. I take it you do?"
Y/n leaned over the pot, checking to see if the water was boiling yet for the potatoes. It wasn't and so she turned to him, leaning up against the counter.
"Sometimes." she admitted.
Alastor turned to her as well. The apron over her dress was stained with jam from the times they had baked together just a few days before. Y/n hair was tied up and away from her face. He felt his heart stutter in his chest.
That had been happening a lot lately when he looked at her. Alastor figured it was a progression of guilt, a giving away of it. He figured spending time with Y/n was helping it go away.
It wasn't like it was a burden for him. They actually had a surprising amount in common.
"What do you miss?"
"My mom."
And there it was again, the cannibalistic sickness eating away at his brain.
"Were you two close?"
Y/n nodded, turning her gaze to the window.
"Yeah. She... I didn't have a big family. Or a lot of friends growing up. I was shy, painfully shy. She was... she was all I had. And now she's alone up there."
"What landed you down here?"
Y/n looked back to Alastor, smirking.
"Back to this are we? Only took what, six months?"
"We're friends now, aren't we?"
"Alastor..."
"Shoot me, I'm curious."
Y/n laughed lightly.
"Okay, I tell you, you tell me. Deal?"
Alastor thought it over for a moment. He could always lie to her, make up some story or another but, she was bound to find out eventually. More than anything, he wanted to keep her from connecting the pieces. Y/n figuring things out felt dangerous, it pained him to think about how she would react.
"Deal."
"Okay, um," Y/n looked away again, her hands fiddling with the frilled edge of her apron, "I don't really like to talk about it. It's kind of embarrassing."
"You made a deal."
"Yeah, yeah. I know."
"So spill."
Y/n smiled lightly, meeting Alastor's eyes for a second.
"Well, I was kind of... maybe... sort of... a thief?"
"Really?"
Alastor hadn't expected that. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected to be honest but, it wasn't that.
"Yeah. Times were... tough growing up. Single mom with a kid in the early 1900s? Not everyone was a fan. It was hard for her to find work so I would... supplement. No one suspected the little girl, you know?"
There were two types of demons in Hell. There were the ones that had their demon forms, and then there were the ones like Alastor with more than one form, more abilities, more strength. It was the anger that fed it, the person they were on earth. Alastor had always assumed Y/n fell into the first category but, as she relayed her tale to him, her body began to change. She rotted before his very eyes, becoming a standing corpse with his bones all showing.
"I always felt awful about it but, we didn't really have a choice. You know? I didn't want to do it, didn't like it, but I did it and I was good at it. When I grew up, well, sometimes it is just easier to stick to what you know. I worked for a cleaning service, maids for hire, working parties, stuff like that. I, well, the people I worked for were rich. They didn't need the money but my mother and I certainly did."
It was then she seemed to realize her own changed appearance. Her eyes shot up to Alastor as she retook her original form.
"Sorry about that." she awkwardly laughed, "Guess the guilt is still eating me alive, even in death. So, what'd you do?"
Alastor took a breath, appraising the situation. The guilt, the sense of having truly sinned.
"I was a serial killer."
Y/n's eyes went wide.
"Really? You? But you're so..."
"So what, my dear?"
"So nice."
Alastor stilled.
"Nice?" he repeated.
Even in life, it was a word that few had directed towards him. Polite, yes. Talented, yes. Charming? Of course, but never nice.
At the sound of bubbling from the pot, Y/n turned his back to him.
"Yeah." she shrugged, opening the lid and dropping the potatoes in, "You probably one of the nicest people I've ever met."
The way Y/n saw him was intoxicating. Nice. He began to spend more and more time at her side. It was hard to keep the other half of his life from her but, he managed. It was a delicate balance, a game he knew well.
It was a day about a year later that Y/n approached him, blushing and unable to meet his eyes. It was a year later she told him how she felt and he realized he felt the same. They moved in together, did nearly everything together. It was a happy afterlife for them both. The first time they had kissed, she had tasted like redemption.
Y/n never questioned what Alastor did on his late nights out alone. She trusted his fidelity and when he said he liked going for walks alone in the evening air, she accepted it. When he said he was at work, broadcasting his radio show, she never asked why they didn't have a radio of their own. It was an unspoken agreement, he didn't ask where the money came from and she didn't ask what he did in the long hours he was away.
The guilt felt heavy in the pit of his stomach, growing stronger every day but still, Y/n remained blissfully ignorant. Alastor could practically hear the clock ticking. Every kiss felt like it might be the last, every caress, every meal shared at the kitchen table. He did everything he could, but knew one day she was bound to find out.
Alastor knew the day had come when he entered their lovely home on the outskirts of the Pride ring. He called his usual hello out into the house from the foyer, letting the door fall shut behind him. Y/n didn't come.
"Y/n?" he called, taking a step further into the house, "Are you home?"
All the lights were on. That was something she was careful about from the old days, making sure not to use electricity unless necessary. There was no way she wasn't in the house.
Tentatively, he stepped into the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, her head in her hands.
"Are you alright, my love?"
It was then he noticed the radio on the table.
"Oh."
"Yeah." Y/n sighed, looking up at him, "Oh."
"Where did you get that?"
"Someone dropped it off, left it at the door. I thought it was you originally but, now I'm not so sure."
Someone had left it for her? One of Alastor's numerous enemies was responsible no doubt. He had always been so careful to keep her protected, out of the public eye. It didn't make sense.
"You heard todays broadcast?"
"Oh you mean the screams of innocent demons mixed in with your stories about New Orleans?"
Alastor was silent. Y/n's eyes were rimmed with red, her hair a mess.
"They were far from innocent. Everyone is down here for a reason. Besides, I told you. I'm a killer."
"You didn't tell me you were my killer."
His heart stopped. He hadn't realized exactly how much she'd managed to piece together from the simple broadcast.
"Am I now?" Alastor asked placidly, trying to remain calm as he clasped his hands behind his back.
He didn't know what he was playing at. He was grasping at straws. Y/n got to her feet.
"You never told me you were from New Orleans, just said you grew up in the south. I let it slide but, I shouldn't have. I should have known, the similarities in our experiences... god, I was such a fool! I should have known we grew from the same patch of dirt. Alastor, there was only one serial killer active in the city at the time we were both alive, at the time I died."
"And you think it was me, my heart?"
"Alastor." she crossed her arms.
"I..."
"How could you not tell me?"
Y/n's anger mixed with grief, it misdirected itself, it got caught on the details. It hurt more that he'd been lying to her. The act itself was something to be dealt with later. Now was the time for the lies. They had spent years together, built a life together and the whole time, he had been lying.
"I didn't me-"
"Mean for me to find out?"
"Well, yes." he took a step forward, he tried to grab her hands but she pulled them away.
Y/n's skin was rotting now, she was taking on her other form. It was the first time he'd seen her do it when not remising about the past or telling stories about her mother. He had no idea what she was capable of when in this state.
"But also, I didn't mean to-"
"To what, to kill me? To marry me? To make me fucking trust you?"
"I..."
The world was falling down around him. The one thing he couldn't lose, the one thing he cared about besides himself or his power. The person that meant the most to him.
"My darling, my heart, m-"
"No, Alastor. Just... just stop." she sighed, a hand to her forehead.
She rubbed her temples, exhausted and overwhelmed.
"I'm sorry."
The words were spoken softly but they crashed into Y/n like a speeding truck. They broke her ribs. She lowered her hand.
"I... I need some time."
"No, Y/n, wait. Please."
Again, she brushed off his attempts to hold her, making her way to the door of the kitchen. Alastor followed her out into the hallway.
"Y/n. Please. Please don't leave."
"What, so you can keep up your pity project?" she scoffed, rounding on him, "I am better than that Alastor. I deserve better."
"It... you aren't a pity project. You're my world, I love you."
"No, your world is this city. Your world is running Hell. I... Alastor, I'm leaving."
#x reader#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin alastor#fic writer#x reader fics#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#fanfic#x reader oneshot#x reader one shot#one shot#oneshot#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin#hazbin hotel oneshots#alastor x reader#alastor fanfiction#alastor x you#hazbin alastor x reader#the radio demon#radio demon#angst#x reader fanfiction#alastor oneshot#alastor x reader oneshot
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hybrid biology
f!reader x yunho x san x yunho
smut | mdni
4.6k
Y/N adopts three hybrids—Jongho (a bear), San (a cat), and Yunho (a dog). One night, they request to suck on her breasts to help them sleep, citing their hybrid biology. Though surprised, Y/N agrees, leading to an intense and intimate encounter that ends in smut with all three hybrids
nsfw tags under
f/m/m/m, 3some, hybrids, oral fixation, breast sucking, dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, vaginal sex, soft dom, handjob, oral sex, penetration, praise kink, dirty talk, aftercare, begging, deep throat, hair pulling and moooore
When you woke up that morning with the simple intention to adopt a hybrid, you had no idea you'd leave the shelter with three—Jongho, the brown bear, San, the black cat, and Yunho, the golden retriever. Initially, you had imagined adopting just one companion, someone to keep you company, but the moment you met these three, something just clicked.
Jongho had stood stoically by the shelter gate, his brown fur gleaming in the sunlight as his eyes scanned you with quiet curiosity. He hadn’t been overly affectionate or eager to please like the others, but something about his calm presence grounded you. The caretaker had warned you that bear hybrids were more independent and liked their space, but that didn’t dissuade you.
San, on the other hand, was immediately drawn to you. He had padded over with fluid grace, his tail swishing behind him as he flashed you a grin so full of warmth that it melted your heart instantly. His black ears twitched as he circled you, brushing his shoulder against your legs. "You seem nice," he had purred, glancing up at you with gleaming eyes. "I wouldn’t mind going home with you." That statement was sealed with a playful wink that left your cheeks burning.
And then there was Yunho. The shy, golden retriever hybrid had peeked at you from behind the caretaker's leg, his floppy ears nearly hiding his face as his tail wagged nervously. He barely spoke a word at first, and it took you kneeling down to his level and offering your hand for him to even come forward. When he finally did, though, the way his eyes lit up made it clear he was the one who needed you the most.
Against all logic, you couldn’t choose between them. Somehow, all three fit together, balancing each other’s energies in ways that left you intrigued. They complemented each other’s personalities so well, you figured, why not? So you left the shelter with not one, but three hybrids trailing behind you.
Life with them quickly became a whirlwind of discovery. Each day revealed new facets of their personalities. Jongho preferred to lounge around the house, occasionally grumbling when San’s playful antics got in the way of his naps. His deep, rumbling voice made it clear that he was the one to set the pace in the household. “You don’t always have to be so hyper, you know,” he would murmur from his spot on the couch, barely lifting his head to meet San’s mischievous grin.
San, of course, would simply roll his eyes. "You’re such a grump, Jongho! Loosen up a little. She likes it when we play with her." Then he would dart off, his black tail flicking behind him as he padded toward you, demanding cuddles.
Yunho was always the quiet observer, watching the interactions between his friends with wide, thoughtful eyes. He rarely initiated conversation, but you always felt his presence nearby. Whether you were cooking, cleaning, or simply sitting on the couch, you’d feel the soft brush of his golden fur or hear his gentle footsteps approaching. He never asked for anything, but his proximity said it all—he found comfort in being near you.
The day had been good, long but fulfilling. You had shown the boys to their new room, helping them settle in, and they seemed content with their new surroundings. The bond between the four of you was growing, but you hadn’t realized how much until later that night.
Fatigue began to weigh you down, and after a quick goodnight, you excused yourself to your room. "Alright, guys. I’m heading to bed. You can stay up, but don’t forget to turn off the TV when you’re done," you said, giving them a tired smile.
Jongho gave a slow nod from his spot on the floor, where he lay sprawled out comfortably, while San stretched lazily on the couch, tail flicking lazily. Yunho, as usual, hovered in the background, his ears twitching but saying nothing.
Sleep came easily once you curled up under your blanket. But sometime in the dead of night, a soft knock at your door pulled you from the depths of slumber. Groggily, you sat up, rubbing your eyes as your door creaked open. All three hybrids stood there, framed by the dim light from the hallway. Jongho, as usual, was unreadable, his face betraying nothing but his brown ears twitching slightly. San fidgeted, his tail wrapped around his leg as if he was debating whether or not to speak, while Yunho, poor shy Yunho, was hiding half his face behind his floppy ears.
“Is something wrong?” you asked, voice still thick with sleep.
Jongho said nothing, his eyes glancing away as if he wasn’t quite sure how to approach the topic. San was the first to break the awkward silence. “N-No! Not really, but…” He trailed off, shifting nervously on his feet, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.
“There’s something we need to tell you,” Yunho finally whispered, his voice barely audible as he stared at the floor.
Your brows furrowed in concern, a pit forming in your stomach. What was going on? Had you done something wrong? Were they unhappy? “What is it?” you asked again, your voice soft but firm, not wanting to pressure them but needing answers.
Silence followed, the weight of it pressing down on you as the boys exchanged awkward glances. Jongho, who normally radiated confidence, was uncharacteristically still. His tail, which usually swayed lazily behind him, had stopped entirely, and his eyes were glued to the ground. He looked like a statue except for his twitching ears. Yunho was practically cowering behind him, and you could see San’s tail swishing nervously.
“Oh my God, just say it,” San finally muttered under his breath, looking frustrated with the stalemate. He took a deep breath, his cheeks flushing slightly as he forced the words out. “We need your help… to fall asleep.”
Your brain stalled for a moment. That was it? You had been expecting something much worse, given how tense the air had felt. “That’s it?” You chuckled softly, relieved that it wasn’t something more serious. “Okay, how can I help?”
But your question seemed to make things worse. Jongho rolled his eyes, and Yunho looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. San, however, continued, his words fumbling awkwardly, “W-We need to…”
“S-Suck on y-your…” Jongho continued, still unable to meet your eyes.
“Your boobs,” San finished, sounding almost bored with the situation, though the flush of his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. His eyes darted away as he scratched behind one ear nervously.
“You what?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them. Your voice was a higher pitch than normal, and your eyes widened in shock. Surely, they were joking, right?
San’s shoulders slumped as your stunned reaction lingered. He mumbled, “Told you she’d freak out…”
Yunho, who had been silent for most of the interaction, shifted uncomfortably, pulling at his ears out of nervousness. “I knew it,” he muttered softly. “I told you she wouldn’t like it.”
“Wait.” You blinked, finally coming to your senses as they turned to leave the room. Curiosity now mixed with confusion. “Can you explain what you mean?”
The three hybrids exchanged surprised glances, clearly not expecting your willingness to listen. After a moment, Jongho sighed, taking the lead with a straightforward explanation. “Our biology is… different from humans. For some reason, we need to suck on…” he gestured vaguely toward your chest, avoiding eye contact again. “Tits. It helps us sleep. We don’t understand it either, so don’t ask. It’s just how we’re wired.”
The more you listened, the more bizarre it seemed, but part of you couldn’t ignore that it made a strange kind of sense. Jongho had tried to nap several times throughout the day but had seemed restless, tossing and turning. San had been unusually clingy, more than usual, while Yunho… well, he had always hovered, but it seemed more intense lately.
You would have to admit, they were all incredibly attractive, and the thought of being intimate with them sent a shiver down your spine. You weren’t sure if you were ready to be vulnerable with them like this, especially since you hadn’t known them for very long.
Yunho’s soft voice broke the silence again. “You don’t have to do anything. We’ll figure something else out.”
“Sorry to bother—” San started, but you interrupted him, surprising even yourself.
“I’ll do it.”
All three hybrids looked utterly flabbergasted, their eyes wide as they processed what you’d just said.
“Really?” San asked, voice filled with disbelief.
You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest. You had made your decision. “Really.” With a small movement, you pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your bare chest to them.
For a moment, none of them moved, their eyes locked onto your exposed skin as if they couldn’t believe it. Then, with barely contained excitement, San and Yunho practically shoved each other, both eager to be the first to reach you. Jongho hung back, watching with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place.
San was the first to touch you, his warm hands cupping your breasts gently, his eyes half-lidded as he leaned in closer. His usually playful demeanor had softened, replaced by a kind of reverence that caught you off guard. "You're really okay with this?" he asked, his voice low, almost uncertain. His fingers brushed across your skin, sending a shiver through you.
You nodded, your breath hitching. "I am. Just… go slow."
San’s lips quirked into a small, relieved smile. “Of course.”
Yunho, who had been lingering in the background, hesitated before moving forward. His eyes were filled with nervousness, but there was something deeper—longing, maybe? He knelt beside you, his large golden ears twitching as he leaned closer. His hand trembled slightly as he touched your other breast, his touch featherlight, almost as if he was afraid to hurt you.
"Is this okay?" Yunho whispered, his eyes darting up to meet yours, wide and innocent.
You gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Yunho. You're doing great."
Jongho, meanwhile, stood back, watching the scene unfold with his arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, but his dark eyes flicked between San, Yunho, and you with a hint of something… possessive? You weren’t sure. Finally, with a sigh, he walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down, leaning in close. His presence, though not as immediate as the other two, was commanding. He didn’t rush to touch you, instead resting his hand on your thigh, waiting patiently.
“Don’t think we’re letting them have all the fun,” Jongho said quietly, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. His thumb rubbed slow circles against your skin, his eyes finally locking with yours.
You felt your pulse quicken at the intensity of his gaze, but before you could respond, San had begun trailing kisses along your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. “You taste as good as I imagined,” he murmured against your skin, his lips grazing your neck before moving lower.
At the same time, Yunho’s shy demeanor melted into focus as he mirrored San’s movements, his lips brushing your other breast. His breath was shaky as he parted his lips, finally taking your nipple into his mouth. The warmth of his mouth, combined with his soft, hesitant sucks, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.
San was a little more confident, his tongue swirling around your nipple before he took it between his lips. His playful nature was still there, but it was tempered with care as he nipped gently, his eyes flicking up to watch your reactions. “Is this good?” he asked, voice husky as he sucked gently, his ears twitching in satisfaction when he heard you moan.
Your back arched slightly, pressing yourself into their mouths as soft moans escaped your lips. The sensation of their mouths on you, one gentle and unsure, the other teasing and confident, had you reeling. You were acutely aware of every touch, every flick of their tongues, and the tension building low in your belly.
Jongho watched, his expression hard to read, but there was an unmistakable gleam in his eyes. He squeezed your thigh lightly, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “You’re doing good. Just relax.” His voice was a soothing contrast to the intensity building between you and the other two hybrids, and you found yourself sinking deeper into the moment.
San pulled away slightly, his lips glistening as he gave a playful tug on your nipple. “You’re so sensitive. I could do this all night,” he purred, nipping gently before sucking again, harder this time.
Yunho, still a little hesitant, began to follow his lead, his mouth moving more confidently now. He sucked gently, then licked, then sucked again, his ears flicking with every little sound you made. He wasn’t as bold as San, but his focus was intense, like he was determined to make you feel good.
Your moans grew louder, your body reacting to their ministrations as your thighs rubbed together, desperate for friction. The pleasure was building steadily, each flick of their tongues sending sparks of electricity through you. Your head tilted back, eyes closing as the sensation overwhelmed you.
Jongho’s hand slid from your thigh up to your waist, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, deliberate circles. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You want more, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and knowing.
You nodded, unable to form words as San’s lips pulled away, a smirk playing on his face as he watched your reaction. “Of course she does,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. He gave your nipple one last playful nip before sitting back, his eyes dark with desire.
Yunho, however, lingered a little longer, his mouth still latched to your breast, his soft golden ears pressed flat against his head as he sucked gently, his focus entirely on you. His hand, which had been resting on your waist, slid down to your stomach, hesitating just above your waistband.
Jongho finally stood, his presence looming as he moved closer, his hand still resting on your waist as he gently pulled Yunho back. “Let’s not overwhelm her all at once,” he said softly, though there was a clear command in his tone. His eyes met yours, dark and intense. “You ready for more?”
You swallowed hard, your heart racing. The anticipation had your body trembling, and the way Jongho looked at you made your knees weak. “Yes,” you whispered, barely able to speak through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind.
Jongho smiled—a slow, predatory grin—as he guided you to lie back fully on the bed. “Good.”
With careful precision, Jongho climbed onto the bed, his large hands easily lifting your legs over his shoulders as he positioned himself between them. His breath was hot against your thighs as he spread soft kisses along your skin, teasing you, while his fingers lightly traced your inner thigh, sending shivers up your spine.
San, now sitting beside you, chuckled as he watched. “Lucky Jongho. He always gets what he wants,” he said, a teasing lilt to his voice.
Yunho, still kneeling by the bed, watched with wide eyes, his expression torn between awe and nervousness. His hands fidgeted in his lap, but he didn’t say anything, his gaze locked onto the scene in front of him.
“Shut up, San,” Jongho grumbled, but his focus remained on you, his lips trailing up to your inner thigh. He pressed a kiss dangerously close to your center, his breath hot and teasing. “You’re already so wet,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, as if the sight of you was affecting him as much as it was affecting you.
Your breath hitched as you felt his fingers slide down to your entrance, teasingly brushing against you. “Jongho—” you gasped, your hands instinctively gripping the sheets as the anticipation mounted.
Without another word, Jongho’s mouth descended onto you, his tongue licking a slow, deliberate stripe over your slit before settling on your clit. The shock of pleasure that shot through you made you cry out, your back arching off the bed as his tongue worked circles over your sensitive flesh.
San smirked, his fingers reaching out to gently tug at one of your nipples, earning a whimper from you. “Looks like someone’s enjoying herself,” he teased, his voice low and husky. His eyes gleamed with amusement, but there was an unmistakable hunger in them.
Yunho, quiet as always, watched intently, his eyes wide with awe as he took in the sight of you writhing under Jongho’s ministrations. His lips parted slightly, and for the first time, you noticed the bulge straining against his pants. He shifted uncomfortably but didn’t say a word.
Jongho, meanwhile, had no intention of stopping. His tongue flicked expertly over your clit, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. His fingers slid inside you easily, curling in just the right way that had you gasping, your hands flying to his hair as you pulled him closer.
“I-I’m close,” you gasped, your body trembling as you felt the climax building inside you, threatening to snap at any moment.
But just as you reached the peak of your pleasure, Jongho pulled away, his mouth and fingers leaving you empty and aching. You let out a desperate whine, your body shaking with need. “No, please—” you begged, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as the denial of release hit you like a freight train.
Jongho smirked, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watched your desperate reaction. “Not yet,” he said simply, his voice thick with lust. “We’re not done with you.”
Behind him, San and Yunho were already moving. San had stripped off his shirt, revealing his lean, muscular torso, his cat ears twitching in excitement. “On your knees, sweetheart,” he purred, his voice dripping with seduction as he guided you up onto all fours. “Time to give you what you really want.” San’s hands were firm yet gentle as he guided you onto your hands and knees, his movements deliberate and slow. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he positioned himself in front of you, his eyes dark and filled with anticipation. His cock stood hard and ready, twitching slightly as he stroked himself a few times while watching you.
“You’re gonna be a good girl for us, aren’t you?” San purred, his voice smooth and teasing. His words sent a jolt of arousal straight to your core, your body reacting to his authoritative tone.
Behind you, Yunho’s presence was quieter, but just as intense. His hands trembled slightly as he moved into position, his soft golden retriever ears drooping as he knelt behind you. There was a noticeable tension in him—nervousness mixed with an overwhelming desire to please. His hand rested on your hip, his touch featherlight.
San gripped the back of your head gently, his thumb stroking your cheek as he positioned his cock near your mouth. “Open up, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice soft yet commanding.
You did as he asked, parting your lips and allowing San to slide his length into your mouth. He let out a groan as he pushed deeper, his hand threading through your hair to guide you at a steady pace. His cock filled your mouth, the weight of him heavy on your tongue as you sucked, your cheeks hollowing as you tried to take him deeper.
“Good girl,” San moaned, his hips starting to move in slow, shallow thrusts. He didn’t push too hard, letting you adjust to him at your own pace, but the satisfied growl that escaped him let you know he was enjoying every second.
Yunho, still behind you, hesitated for a moment longer. His large, warm hands slid from your hips down to your thighs, his touch shaky but reverent. “I-I’ll be gentle,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of San’s soft groans.
You moaned around San’s cock, your body trembling in anticipation of Yunho’s next move. His hand guided the tip of his length to your entrance, his breath shaky as he slowly, carefully pushed inside you. The stretch was delicious, and you couldn’t help but whimper at the feeling of being filled by him. He was gentle, almost too gentle, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he buried himself to the hilt.
Yunho let out a soft gasp, his forehead resting against your back for a moment as he adjusted to the sensation of being inside you. “You feel… so good,” he mumbled, his voice tinged with awe and disbelief.
The combination of San’s cock in your mouth and Yunho’s inside you was overwhelming in the best way possible. You tried to focus on sucking San, your tongue swirling around his length as he moved in and out of your mouth, but the way Yunho was slowly thrusting into you made it hard to concentrate. Every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through you, building steadily with each movement.
San’s grip on your hair tightened slightly as he thrust deeper, his pace picking up as he got more comfortable. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his voice thick with arousal. “You look so good with your mouth full of me.”
Behind you, Yunho was picking up his pace too, his nervousness fading as he got lost in the pleasure of being inside you. His thrusts were slow but deep, each one hitting just the right spot, making you moan around San’s cock. Your body trembled, caught between the pleasure of being taken from both ends.
Jongho, who had been watching from the side with a hungry, possessive gaze, finally moved forward. His presence was commanding, his dark eyes locked on you as he stood beside the bed, stroking himself slowly. He hadn’t touched you yet, but the way his gaze roamed over your body made you shiver with anticipation.
“You’re taking them so well,” Jongho rumbled, his voice low and rough. His eyes flicked to San, then Yunho, before settling back on you. “But you’re not finished yet.”
San groaned, his hips thrusting faster as he neared his peak. His fingers dug into your hair, holding you in place as he fucked your mouth harder. “Shit, you’re amazing,” he gasped, his breath ragged as he felt himself getting closer to release.
Yunho’s thrusts grew more frantic behind you, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he lost himself in the feeling of being buried inside you. He was quiet, but the way his breath hitched and the soft gasps that escaped him let you know he was just as close to the edge.
You moaned around San’s cock, your body trembling as the pleasure built up inside you, threatening to overwhelm you. The sensation of Yunho thrusting into you, combined with San’s cock filling your mouth, had you teetering on the edge of release.
“I-I’m close,” Yunho whispered, his voice trembling with the effort to hold back.
San was right there with him, his hips stuttering as he thrust deep into your mouth one last time, groaning loudly as he came. His release spilled down your throat, and you swallowed it eagerly, moaning around him as your own orgasm built to its peak.
Yunho’s grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you one last time, a soft cry escaping his lips as he came, filling you with his warmth. The feeling of him releasing inside you, combined with San’s release in your mouth, was enough to push you over the edge. You moaned loudly, your body trembling as your orgasm crashed over you, leaving you breathless and spent.
San pulled out of your mouth with a satisfied groan, his thumb brushing over your lips as he smirked down at you. “You did so good, sweetheart.”
Yunho, still behind you, pulled out slowly, his hands shaking slightly as he sat back on his heels, his face flushed with both arousal and embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry if I was too rough,” he mumbled, his golden ears drooping slightly.
You shook your head, still catching your breath. “No, Yunho… you were perfect.”
Jongho, who had been watching the entire time, finally moved forward, his expression dark and hungry as he climbed onto the bed. “Now it’s my turn,” he growled, his large hands gripping your waist as he positioned himself behind you.
You barely had time to catch your breath before Jongho thrust into you, his cock filling you completely in one swift motion. You cried out, your body jolting from the force of his thrust. He was rougher than Yunho, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he pounded into you with a relentless rhythm.
“God, you’re so tight,” Jongho groaned, his voice deep and guttural as he buried himself inside you again and again. His thrusts were hard and fast, each one pushing you closer to the edge once more. The sensation of being filled so completely by him was overwhelming, your body trembling with pleasure.
San and Yunho watched, their eyes dark with lust as they sat back, their chests heaving as they recovered from their own releases. San’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, while Yunho’s face was still flushed with embarrassment, though there was a hint of desire in his gaze as he watched Jongho take you.
Jongho’s thrusts grew more frantic, his breath ragged as he neared his release. His hands gripped your waist so tightly you were sure there would be bruises, but the pleasure he was giving you outweighed any pain. You could feel yourself nearing the edge again, your body shaking as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level.
“I’m gonna fill you up so good,” Jongho growled, his voice rough with lust. His hips slammed into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as he came, his release spilling inside you. The feeling of him filling you was enough to push you over the edge again, and you cried out, your body trembling as your second orgasm washed over you.
Jongho stayed buried inside you for a moment longer, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Finally, he pulled out slowly, his hands releasing their grip on your waist as he sat back, a satisfied smirk on his face.
You collapsed onto the bed, completely spent, your body trembling from the intensity of everything that had just happened. Your mind was hazy, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you struggled to stay conscious.
San chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
Yunho, still flushed and shy, reached out to pull the covers over you, his hands gentle as he tucked you in. “You should rest now. We’ll take care of everything else.”
Jongho lay down beside you, his large body enveloping you as he pulled you into his arms. “Sleep,” he murmured, his voice soft and soothing now that the heat of the moment had passed.
You didn’t need to be told twice. Exhaustion overtook you, and before long, you drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and content in the arms of your hybrids.
#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez smut#yunho#ateez imagines#ateez oneshot#yunho smut#kpop#kpop smut#atz#smut#hybrid#hybrids#kitty hybrids#ateez x reader#y/n#ateez jongho#jongho#jongho x reader#choi jongho#san smut#jongho smut#ateez san#choi san#san x reader#san x you#san x y/n#yunho ateez#yunho x reader
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Hey E-Vay ! Before I say anything, LOVE your work.
Okay, so I know that you're in the process of showing us how Sonic and Amy's wedding and proposal is planned out (no pressure). BuT, just curious, how did Knucks and Rouge get married? Or even how did he get to propose?
Thanks for seeing this!
Thank you so very much! 🥰 I’m so happy you like my work!
I will not be doing a full comic or even a full fic of how their wedding goes down just because I have too many other projects I want to do (I’m only one person! 🥵). But I will give you a breakdown of how the Knuxouge wedding goes in my AU! And if anyone wants to do fanart or a fic based off it, I’d love to see/read it!
During the events of Boom!Baby, Knuckles and Rouge finally get engaged. I don’t have the exact proposal in mind, but I like to think that the two of them have been aggressively/playfully putting it off for awhile, with Knuckles constantly joking “As if I’d ever want to be married to HER” and Rouge jabbing back with “Please, you’d need to offer me the Master Emerald on a ring for me to even consider it!” But with Sonic and Amy taking this next major step in their lives, Knuckles is inspired and does end up popping the question (with a CONSIDERABLE ring full of gems that he scavenged himself!).
Knowing Rouge is an absolute diva, she’d have the most extravagant, over-the-top, dazzling wedding you could imagine. And it would definitely be a “no-kids-allowed” event. Have you seen the movie “Crazy Rich Asians”? Picture that. The wedding would be a spectacle that would last for DAYS! But, the wedding date would be expedited super fast (I headcanon that Rouge is actually very insecure and puts out a bold front to hide that about herself. She’d want to rush the wedding because she’s secretly afraid Knuckles will want to back out. She shouldn’t worry about that, he loves her very much and really wants to marry her!).
In my AU, Shadow is off-world during Boom!Baby, so though Rouge would have obviously asked him to be her “Man of Honor,” she wouldn’t be able to find a way to reach him and get him back in time for the wedding. Because of this, Omega gets pushed to the role of “Man (Mech?) of Honor” and Rouge asks Amy to be a bridesmaid instead. Note, Amy is nearing the end of her pregnancy at this time haha. I always write Rouge and Amy to have a very tense “friendship;” that’s just my personal preference. So Rouge asking Amy to be her bridesmaid was because Amy is her closest female friend, but also because she thinks it will make herself look extra fabulous when standing next to a very pregnant lady haha. She even picks out an awful yellow bridesmaid dress for Amy to wear (because Amy is still very beautiful, pregnant or not). Though Amy does agree to be a bridesmaid to support her friend, she’s actually quite upset and very self-conscious and it initially puts a damper on her enjoyment of the wedding festivities (Her feet hurt like hell, she feels like a bowling ball, she thinks she looks horrendous in this color!). Don’t worry though, Sonic cheers her up and reminds her just how radiant she is 🥰
[Sonic seeing Amy in her bridesmaid dress] S: “Wow!” A: “This yellow dress is awful. She did this on purpose.” S: “Well if she was trying to make you look bad, she failed miserably. You look like the sunshine!” A: “I look VERY pregnant!” S: “Sure, pregnant with MY baby. There ain’t a thing more beautiful than that 😉” [Rabid kissing ensues hehehe]
I picture Rouge having many outfit changes for every event that happens during their week-long wedding extravaganza, but for her actual wedding dress I imagine something super sleek, super sexy, and made up entirely of diamonds! My drawing doesn’t even do it justice. Just picture that as she’s walking, every single facet of every single diamond is sparkling! All the men would have to wear 3-piece black tuxedos complete with trousers (Sonic hates this), except Omega obviously. But he’d still wear a dapper bowtie and Sunflower & Iris boutonniere like the rest of the wedding party. (I chose Irises because Rouge seems to like the color purple and they’re a very elegant flower, and I chose sunflowers because they remind me of Knuckles for some reason. Maybe because they’re big and tall. Idk, I can see Knuckles really liking sunflowers and yellow pairs beautifully with purple). Sonic and Tails are Knuckles’ groomsmen, but Team Chaotix are also among honored guests so Vector and Espio (and maybe even Mighty) would attend all the groom-related events (like the bachelor party) leading up to the wedding.
Right before the ceremony, Rouge and Amy have a touching heart-to-heart moment and Rouge does thank her for stepping in and helping out, and she apologizes for making Amy feel bad. She admits that she has insecurities that she doesn’t like people to know about, so that’s why she goes over-the-top and sometimes puts others down in the process. Also (at least in my AU), Rouge doesn’t have very many close friends outside of Shadow and Omega, so Amy really is her next best friend. They make up, the ceremony is perfect and romantic, and everyone gets to have an absolute blast at the reception!
Lastly, because Rouge is so over-the-top… after Shadow returns back to their planet 20+ years later, I can AB-SO-LUTELY see her throwing a vow renewal that’s even more extravagant than their first wedding as an excuse to have him as her Man of Honor and also as an excuse to throw another huge bash. Though this one would be even crazier and BIGGER, I think the vow renewal would actually be way more fun because everyone (including kids) can come this time, everyone’s families are bigger (even CC would be there!), and Knuckles and Rouge’s adopted kids (Ruff and Tumble) would get to be part of the ceremony, so it’d be very heartfelt even with goofy antics.
Sorry I’m not going to make this one into a full-fledged comic, but I hope you enjoyed this condensed version anyway! And I hope nobody takes the way I write Rouge as me not liking her character. I just like to add a little spice into why she comes off so proud all the time. I adore Knuckles and Rouge as a couple. Their rivalry and catty attitudes are just a hoot!
#ask me#evayQA#my art#my au#knucklesxrouge#knuxouge#wedding#knuxouge wedding#knuckles the echidna#rouge the bat#sonamy#sonic the hedgehog#amy rose#sonic trash#sth#long post
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RIGHT OFF OUR BONES ♡
pairing: vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: one year after leon inserted himself into your life, he has a special way to celebrate your anniversary. the life-changing decision that's haunted you since that night in your room.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, public sex, blood play and drinking, knife play, religious imagery
wc: 4.8k
a/n: happy halloween!! i hope you guys like this one. technically it is a part 2 to this fic, although this can be read as a stand alone since the past events are explained in it. anyways reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated as always <3
kinktober slot: vampire leon (he's special he gets his own day)
His lips landed on the knuckles of your middle and ring finger just as the clock on his wrist struck midnight. He wanted to be touching you as the day turned over. Minutes ago this night had been like any other, but now it was officially something special.
It was your anniversary.
Your eyes watched him. His features remained piercing even in the darkness of the club. The lights hit him just right where the two of you sat on the upper balcony. A beautiful array of reds glowed on his cheek. His nose and brow cast sharp shadows. You can't help but be entranced by the sight, and that fact only became more true when his eyes flitted up and looked at yours.
"One whole year, beloved."
Despite the blaring music, you heard him as though he whispered the words right in your ear. You nodded in return, not confident your own voice could carry over the drums in the same manner.
You watched him smirk. He knew what you were thinking. Not even metaphorically. He had the sixth sense of the mind. It only took him six months of your relationship to inform you of that.
One whole year. You could hardly believe it. These months had passed you by quicker than any other year in your past. Knowing Leon and letting him in had turned your life into a blur of bloody kisses and long nights. Days became fleeting, just intervals of time you had to endure between his visits.
The version of you who had been sleeping peacefully in her bed the night he first snuck in never would have envisioned this becoming her reality. You couldn't have imagined Leon, who'd been nothing more than a faceless form in the background to you, would sink his fangs so deep into every facet of your being.
You'd been scared of him at first, then thrilled, captivated by the danger he brought. That stayed true for a while, and it still might be true today. You love him now though, so it's harder to pinpoint. The fear has become muddled with the devotion and adoration, the worship and the reverence.
"Are you ready to see your surprise?" he asked, cutting into your thoughts.
You nodded again, fingers clasping around his icy palm as he rose to his feet. He pulled you to your own before guiding you through the gatherings of people on the way to the stairs. The song playing reverberated through the metal of the suspended walkway. The lyrics about holding you close and tearing you apart wrapped around each part of you and sunk through your skin.
Leon had been teasing you with this surprise for the past week. He wouldn't give you a clue as to what it was beyond the fact that it was for your anniversary.
He traversed the stairs in front of you. Not a hair on his head moved with the motion. It stayed slick back in place. When you reached the bottom, his grip on your hand remained just as firm. There were more people down there. More eyes catching on his presence. His alabaster skin and obsidian shirt. He didn't return any of their looks though. He walked through them as if infected with a disease, which in a sense was the case. Maybe all of these people knew that deep down but didn't have the words to articulate it.
They didn't have the knowledge that monsters were real. That life didn't have to be a straight path to death. There were ways to subvert it and prolong existence. To become an imitation of a living being. In childish terms - as your lover called it - to become a vampire.
The two of you floated through the exit of the club and out onto the sidewalk. You could still hear the music from outside the stone walls. The song switched over into something filled with synth. The change meant nothing to you though as Leon continued tugging you in the opposite direction of his feeding ground.
Your shoulders shuddered as the cold of the night started to gloss over your bare skin. A light breeze blew over you too, swishing the crimson fabric on the skirt of your dress.
"Are you cold?" Leon asked simply.
He found your mortal needs cute. Little ways he could take care of you and show that he had your best interest in mind. Small methods of building your dependence on him.
"A little bit," you answered as he'd expected.
Nodding in acknowledgement, he released your hand and draped his arm over your shoulders instead. He pulled you close, tucking you to his side. It didn't help much in terms of physical warmth given that he didn't emit any, but the gesture unleashed a swarm of butterflies in your belly that carried the heat of affection up into your chest and shoulders.
Smile now on your face, you turned to look at him.
"So... Do I get to know where we're going?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your tone.
He returned the gaze by looking over at you.
"Have some patience. You've been waiting an entire year for this. I think you can last a few minutes more."
His familiar smirk curled his lips into a picture of smug superiority. There was nothing Leon enjoyed more than being able to have a hold on you. To know something you didn't. It made him feel like your keeper. The one who could guide you through this world and into any others.
"Not even a hint?" you teased.
"Not one," he confirmed. Leaning in, he gave you a quick peck on the lips as a reward for your expected patience.
You only had to walk a handful more blocks before your destination came into view. The ground beneath your heels softened, transitioning from solid concrete to loose dirt. Decaying grass lined the walkway to the iron gates. Lights from the city streets faded into the distance, bringing a different kind of chill over you. The thrill of isolation surrounded you even though you were with someone else. It brought the sense that it was just you two in the world right now.
'Raccoon City Cemetery' was displayed in thin letters above the gaunt points of the fencing. The gates opened with a rusty creak and shut with the same sound.
"The cemetery?" you asked, "Is this your version of romantic?"
"You'll see. I think you'll come to see it my way soon enough. Like you always do," he replied, his voice picking up a bit of a teasing lilt.
You laughed quietly as he pulled you along the rows of headstones. "Are you calling me a pushover?"
"Never, sweetheart. Only trusting. Susceptible to my persuasion. But that's how I like you."
The pair of you continued heading deeper into the fields of remains. Flowers decorated a collection of graves while others were left desolate. He pulled you into a sharp turn around a mossy one and down a few more rows. You passed one more that was cracked before he finally stopped.
He looked at you before you could even think to ask anything. His arm fell from your shoulders, and his hand landed on your waist instead. He pulled you to stand in front of him. His other arm matched the placement of his other one, both of them snaking around you and holding you flush against his chest.
You felt his chin rest on your shoulder and his lips peck your throat a few times as your eyes trained on the stone about six feet from you. It was one of the empty ones. The rock looked fresh though, not marred or weathered like some of the others. Though not a single bouquet had been left in honor of the person who lay below.
Or who was supposed to be lying below.
Your eyes caught on the lettering engraved across the hard surface. Leon Scott Kennedy. Some details sat a few inches down. His date of birth. His date of death. An inscription that said "Lived to protect. Died doing just that. Will live on in the hearts of those he saved. Rest in Peace."
Honestly, you didn't know what to say. As much time as you'd spent with Leon over the past year, his past was still pretty foreign to you. You knew he worked a high-stress government job pertaining to bioweapons, that it was how he became what he is now, and that no part of it has carried over to his 'new life.'
Whenever you were together, he was more interested in talking about you. Your problems and your feelings. Your thoughts and experiences. He would provide insight, let you know his way of viewing the world and moving about it. But he kept discussions of his own history to a minimum, staying closed off in that regard. Though in his own way, you guess this counted as opening up.
You huffed out a breathy laugh and glanced at him. "Would you say you're resting in peace?"
"With you?" he teased, "Not one day."
Your smile persisted across your features, but your eyes returned to the headstone.
"Is it real?"
"Of course it is."
"Did you actually die?"
"I think the version of me it was made for did."
You remained silent for a few moments, for no other reason than to think over what he's telling you. One of your hands drifted to his that was splayed across your tummy. You locked your warm fingers with his cold ones.
"So everyone thinks you're dead?"
"Everyone who used to know me, yes," he answered before pausing, "I've been careful. It's a lot easier to avoid people when you only go out at night."
You nodded, but you still had more questions. "What happened to you?"
"I got sick. Before I evolved. It was really bad. The person who gave me this... whatever it is, they didn't infect me the easy way. They tried to kill me," he began to explain, "I was on an assignment in Romania, investigating a group of potential bioterrorists. They were like me. My squad killed all of them. Before the last one died though, he got me. Nearly ripped out my throat, but some of the venom got in.
"It was like living in a state of death for weeks. Felt like all the blood in my body stopped. They could barely feel my heart beat. I was pale, my eyes glossy like no one was there. Until suddenly, I came back better than before. It was like everything started flowing again, ten times stronger, stampeding through my veins."
You listened to him, each word painting an image in your mind. The other sounds in the graveyard faded to nothing. Chirps of crickets, leaves rustling in the wind, far-away calls of the city all background noise as you ingested his chilling story.
"I left a note. I guess they wanted to spare the embarrassment of a suicide, so they recorded it as if the sickness took me," he finished.
"Why are you telling me this?" you asked finally.
"Because I want you to know what you're getting into before I ask you to decide."
Your heart seizes in your chest, locking up with the implication of those words. So this was the surprise. The decision. The choice you'd asked about a year ago. The one he deemed you unfit for at the time. Internally, you wondered what changed.
"Decide if I want to be... like you?" you checked.
He nodded, his fingers stroking back and forth over the red cloth around your waist.
"I want you to think about it," he whispers, "You have to understand that if you make the change. There's no going back."
Stepping away from you, he walked around to stand in front. The moonlight shone down on his back, drowning him in shadows to your eyes. He stood above where his corpse was supposed to be lying in eternal rest.
Your heart pumped in the same steady rhythm but hard. You knew he could hear it. He reached out, grabbing one of your arms by the elbow. His fingers trailed down to your wrist.
"You'll still be mine either way, darling," he said. His striking eyes locked with yours. Even in the darkness, they stood out like prized jewels.
You still remained silent, mulling over the decision in your mind. It probably wasn't one you should make in such a short span of time given that it would change the rest of your life. On one hand, you could be like him. You could live forever. You could feed off the flesh of others, living solely during the nocturnal hours. Or you could maintain the status quo. Continue being his little mortal that he watched over and fed from on occasion.
What Leon didn't tell you was that it wasn't really a decision. At least not yours. An answer indicating you didn't want to change would suffice for now but not forever. You were his little human. His mate. He wouldn't live in a world without you. If he had to wait a while longer for you to be ready, so be it, but one day, you would be his in every sense.
Luckily for him though, you seem to already be swaying in his favor.
You stepped towards him. The soft dirt molded to the print of your shoe. "But if I change, won't things be different? Like between us?" you asked.
He couldn't help the smile that rose to his face. You always phrased things in the sweetest way. He found everything about it absolutely adorable. From your naive cadence to your shimmery doe eyes. His hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping back and forth over the soft expanse.
"Things would be different, yeah. But different doesn't mean all bad," he said.
He pulled you in closer by the back of your head. His muscular arm guided you in so your front was flush against his, those wondrous eyes gazing up at his face.
"I won't lie to you, at first things will be hard. This thing... it can feel like a curse," he murmured, "The taste of blood takes a while to get used to. The feeling of your prey going limp in your arms... it's a thrill like you can't even imagine. So horrific but satisfying."
The whispered words brought a chill over you stronger than the one inflicted by the night air. Staring into his eyes almost felt as if you were hypnotizing yourself, locking your mind into the trance of a predator you wouldn't be able to escape.
"But it can also be a gift," he continued, "You wouldn't have to worry about meaningless mortal worries. Wouldn't have to fear the idea of aging into irrelevancy."
He leans in, his lips brushing against yours. Already, you feel the urge to give in. Leon was nothing if not enticing, and the idea of being with him forever... it didn't sound so bad.
"How do you do it?" you finally asked.
His eyes gleamed with excitement at your wavering resolve. He pecked your lips, then the corner of your mouth, then your jaw. His mouth landed on your neck near your ear, just above the two faint markings that came from him sinking his fangs into you every so often.
"It'll be quick and painless, angel. Just a little bit of my blood should do it," he said.
You bit your lip at the thought. While his mouth latched onto your neck every other week, you'd never had the luxury of returning the favor. The image of it in your mind was sickening but exhilarating at the same time.
"If I change... will you still wanna drink from me? Will you still need me?" you wondered aloud.
"Of course, I'll need you. I'll always need you. Just not in that way after you evolve," he said and brought his face to be level with yours again, "Once you're like me, your blood will be too divine to be used only in that way. That's not to say I won't drink from you though."
Your eyes studied his face, trying to discern his meaning. He moved his mouth in and nipped at your lips.
"When you're like me, I'll drink from you for fun. Pure pleasure. Not because I need it to survive, but because I rather wouldn't without the taste of you," he said.
Blood rushed throughout your body as your heart pounded faster for him. You couldn't think of any reason to say no at this point. There didn't seem to be anything in your human life that would tether you to the only world you'd known. Instead, you wanted to bind yourself to the man in front of you. Your mate.
After only a few more seconds of thought, you whispered, "I'll do it."
His lips split into a wild grin. "That's my girl. My sweet little doll."
His arms looped around your figure and kept you right up against him. He kissed you without reserve now. The spoils of your decision were yours now. There was no reason to tease, no more reason to hint at things.
A delicate moan escaped your lips. You melted into the affection, resting your arms on his shoulders and shutting your eyes. The only two people in the world right now were you and him.
His hands rubbed up and down your back. They slid over your curves and massaged the tender flesh through your dress. His fingers fell to your ass, kneading the plush softness there. Following in the same direction, his lips drifted down your throat. They coasted over the pulsing of your carotid artery and onto the center where your vocal chords thrummed.
He kissed over your collar bone and the top of your chest left exposed by your dress. Your head fell back between your shoulders. The pleasure reverberating through you evaporated your thoughts into hot air between your ears. Your fingers threaded into his soft, ashy locks.
"Leon," you breathed. The word spilled from your lips like a prayer.
Straightening out, he stood up. "Be patient, baby. You should cherish these last moments you'll have, living the life you've always known."
His fingers began undoing the buttons of his dress shirt. The stiff fabric parted, revealing his alabaster chest and the chiseled definition of his abdomen. Both sides fell away. He left the garment hanging over his shoulders. He didn't bother discarding it entirely.
Next, from his pocket came what looked like a crucifix. You watched him bring the small item into view with curiosity. You tried to piece together its purpose or significance in this moment, unable to find one until his thumb pressed on a raised charm in the center and slid it downward.
A shining silver blade poked from the bottom. The point of it was sharper than any knife you'd ever seen. Each edge of the metal shimmered with the propensity to wound.
He could feel the way your eyes magnetized to the sleek surface. His cock kicked in his trousers from how entranced you appeared. Lowering to his knees, he rested a hand upon your shoulder and guided you down with him.
He didn't go for the transformation right away. His lips found yours again, engaging you in another passionate exchange. Your breaths puffed against his face. The hot air fanned across his skin. A small reminder of the heat he'd be harnessing forever.
His hands roamed your body. They pulled up the flowy bottom of your dress, bringing it above your hips. Your skin pebbled with the new coolness.
"Leon..." you whimpered. It was different from your last calling of his name. This one held some anxiety and trepidation. Both emotions you would be mostly freed from in a matter of minutes.
"What is it, sweetheart?" he muttered.
"Just... someone could see," you said, "Shouldn't we be quick?"
He chuckled and just shook his head, not stopping lavishing you with affection. "No one is here besides us. And even if there were, you know I would hear them coming," he teased, "They wouldn't be able to stop us anyway. No one is getting between you and I right now."
You keened under his touch. It was the truth. Anyone who tried to interrupt would be quickly silenced by your lover. Without the need for worry, you let out a sigh and relaxed. You could let yourself enjoy this.
The two of you made out for a while longer, the exact amount of time lost in the flurry of touches. When your eyes felt droopy and your lips swollen and wet, he finally pulled away. You blinked at him, and he dragged his fingers down your jaw.
"You're ready. This will be nice and easy. You just do as I say," he whispered.
He leaned back onto his knees. His skin glowed under the pale moonlight. The crucifix shined brighter as he raised it. You watched in silent awe, barely able to understand the scene playing out before you.
His hand brought it to the muscle resting right above his heart. He held it there for a second before pressing it to his own skin. Your eyes were unable to pull away as the blade dug into the flesh, drawing a scarlet line over the unmarred surface. Deep red trickled from the wound.
Lifting his eyes back to you, he examined your reaction. He didn't sense much activity going on in your head, and the look on your face told him he had you hooked.
"Come here, baby," he whispered, cupping the back of your head, "Take a drink. As much as you can."
Slowly, he pulled you in. He directed you to his chest and positioned your head right where the cut bled. Without question, your lips parted. You were unsure of how to connect with his skin at first. But once that cool, sticky liquid hit your mouth, it came like the most natural thing in the world.
They engulfed the crimson scrape. Your tongue laved at it for more. Now it was his turn to groan. His head fell back, and his cock filled out below.
"That's it," he rasped, "Nice and steady."
You suckled some more, your efforts rewarded with a thick stream flowing into your mouth. It was divine. Like a waterfall straight from heaven. You whined at the taste and pressed your hips right against his thigh.
He had told you a year ago that yours was the sweetest blood he'd ever come across, but that was clearly only because he'd never tasted his own. All you could think while it oozed down your throat was that you wanted, no needed, more.
Your heart hammered so loud in your ears, you would've thought you were close to cardiac arrest. But it kept going and going until it evened out. It felt as though your body had ascended. Everything felt so intense now. The only thing that kept you grounded was nursing the blood from Leon's cut.
Eventually, he pulled on your neck. You needed a break even if you didn't understand that. His fingers curled around your throat and gently eased you off. You didn't want to, that was evident by the way you grabbed at him and resisted his hand.
"Shh, shh, shh," he cooed while lowering you back against the dirt of his grave, "You're alright. You can have some more in a little while. Just let your body adjust."
Your eyes closed again. It felt like your head was spinning. He stroked your cheek and down your neck while getting on top of you. Dropping the crucifix beside you, he parted your thighs. Every nerve ending on your body was firing away right now. He knew you'd be dripping for him.
His fingers coasted up and down the smooth flesh of your legs. He could sense the change in you already. Your scent was morphing. It would only be a matter of time until your eyes brightened and your fangs came in.
Pushing his hips forward, he ground his bulge against your core. You mewled in response. The simple touch was enough to spark a rampage of bliss within you.
"Good girl," he praised, "Such a good girl. I told you this is what you were meant for."
You nodded hazily. He knew you were registering the words, but it looked more like you were living in a dream right now rather than lucid life.
He'd seen enough to know there was nothing left to wait for. He reached down and unbuttoned his pants. Next went the zipper, and then he pulled his cock out. He tugged on his shaft, ensuring it was ready for you.
You were too caught up in the novel feelings flooding your senses to care about doing your part of the undressing, so he stepped in. His fingers hooked around the thin lace of your panties and yanked them down. They rolled in on themselves and dimpled the soft muscles of your thighs.
When your cunt was exposed to him, he saw his predictions had been true. Your folds glistened for him. The wetness sparkles under the silver light emanating from the sky.
"Pretty baby," he whispered while guiding his tip towards your entrance.
He lined it up with your hole before nudging it in. You sucked in a gasp, trembling at the intrusion. The connection felt all-consuming. The bond between you and Leon was above you now, out of your control. You couldn't break it if you wanted to. It was eternal.
His hands grabbed your hips, giving him leverage to thrust in and out of you. Skin clapped against skin while both of you moaned in ecstasy. The otherwise quiet cemetery filled with the sounds of your passion.
He rolled himself into you, sheathing his length in the tight embrace of your walls. You clamped around him. Every rock of his pelvis got you to squeeze on him. He panted with the restraint it took not to just pound you into the ground.
Your arms reached up, and your hands grabbed for him. Your fingers flexed as you tried to get him closer. He lowered himself, allowing you to drag him the rest of the way. Your scarlet-stained mouth kissed his lips with the same dedication you'd had for drinking his blood.
He groaned and returned the kisses. Saliva smeared over his chin. Your efforts were a bit cloudy from the lusty fog in your head. His name leaked from your mouth again. And again. And then again. As if it was the only word you knew. The only word you found worth knowing.
"Mhm. I'm right here, beloved. I'm here with you," he breathed.
"Forever," you whimpered.
Your forearm rested over the back of his neck, bobbling around with each jolt of his body. Your fingers lazily toyed with the ends of his hair. The strands felt like silk between your digits. He gazed into your eyes. Already, he could see your irises shifting to a stronger color.
"My beautiful little love. There's nothing more I could want. Just you with me till the rest of the world is dead and gone," he whispered.
You moaned in response. Your head nodded frantically. You couldn't be more eager to express your agreement.
He grinned and kissed your throat more. You could feel the points of his fangs scraping over the tender area. He didn't puncture like so many times before, he merely reminded you of the idea. Because of that, you knew he was close. He always wanted to bite right around the time the coils in his stomach started to tighten and his balls started to draw up.
Grunting against your neck, he kept his hold secure on you. His abs twitched while his breaths became labored. He pumped into your pussy a few more times before a breathy moan burst from him.
"Fuck..." he sighed.
He slammed into you for a final time, draining himself into your heat. You trembled a final few humanly shudders before deflating against the ground below you. Your head tilted back, and the headstone behind came into view again. You wondered if you'd get a similar one for yourself now or if you could just disappear into the night unnoticed.
He came down from his high with his face buried in the crook of your neck, but once his breathing had evened out, he pulled back to look down at you. He brushed his thumb over your cheek once more, cherishing the sight of your tinted lips and glassy eyes.
"This is only the beginning, beloved," he whispered, "This is the dawn of the rest of your days."
He connected you in one more kiss. One last gesture of his undying affection before he would help you put yourself back together again. He could already feel your skin beginning to cool.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy x you#resident evil x reader#resident evil x you#resident evil smut#resident evil imagines
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CSM 182 : snow or the power of forgetting
the snow, eaten by CSM recently, forgotten
the snow, the illusion that lulled Aki in his last moments
the snow, chapter 182, where you finally put the pieces together
what does snow mean ?
What if I told you that Denji's reaction to Yoru's ambivalence was the wrong one ?
I'm not talking from a moral point of view, but purely from a narrative one.
What does Yoru actually do by threatening and kissing him ?
It leads to ambivalence, to a striking contrast that is unbearable.
But life is nothing other than this same diluted contrast, this mixture of negative and positive constantly associated.
When Denji says he can't master these two facets, these dirty tricks and all the problems he has to face, that's precisely what has become his worry.
splitting himself, splitting his surroundings, seeing obstacles as ultimatums.
All this may seem off-the-wall and crazy, or like an analysis to justify Yoru's behaviour.
It isn't.
Don't see his kiss as a kiss, but as a narrative perch for Denji to finally face up to himself
Why ?
Dirty things are what he's always hoped for, they seemed in essence extremely positive, they were the way out of his misfortunes
For Denji, doing dirty things inevitably led to happiness.
Denji gradually realises, thanks to several female characters, that these dirty things are not all positive.
You might think that Denji really took his time to realise this...
But it's far from easy for him; for him, life was a deep unhappiness, always, with no prospect of happiness
Or rather, he couldn't see happiness
Because his conception of happiness was restricted to those dirty things
Pochita, Aki, Power, Nayuta, Denji realised his own unhappiness after their disappearance, he only realised the presence of happiness through his loss
Because he hadn't done anything dirty until now!
Until the end of part 1, Denji is trying to rethink his vision of happiness and is trying to break away from normality, to raise his standards higher: eating steak, 10 girlfriends.
Even though he has come close to happiness, Denji doesn't realise it, because since that happiness wasn't eternal, it wasn't happiness.
Happiness remains a way out for him.
Tasting his definition of happiness, being kissed by Yoru, makes him realise that happiness has lost its meaning.
With each kiss, Denji realises that it won't bring him happiness, because it doesn't make him happy.
Little by little, Denji tries to get closer to something for the long term, not the moment.
That's why, he asks if "Asa" loves him.
Can he finally taste that unchanging happiness? Never taste unhappiness again ?
Asa is his downside, her intrusive thoughts, her internal panics, her reflections are preventing her from living in the moment.
And she doesn't want to live in the moment, because she doesn't trust her instincts (when for Denji they are a way out).
Her instincts led her to save a cat, causing the sacrifice of her mother.
But it was Chainsaw Man who made her realise that life can be excruciatingly bitter and sometimes sweet.
Inhabited by Denji, who is as lost.
How could Denji say something as right as that crap burger if he's lost too ? Life is disgusting, it's tiring and yet we keep eating this burger, thinking of dogs, cats and ice cream.
Because Denji didn't do it.
It's Denji perfectly fused with Pochita.
CHAINSAW MAN.
A double being, symbolically realising the ambivalence of life.
Denji was Pochita's happiness, hence her sacrifice.
Pochita was Denji's happiness, hence his unhappiness.
The constant association of happiness with unhappiness - after all, that's all Denji and Pochita's meeting is about.
Except that at that moment, Denji had come to the wrong conclusion, talking about sex, hence the feeling of unease, and a sense of rupture in his speech. The hope of supreme happiness makes us eat this crap burger, it's true. But it won't make us happy.
What Yoru shows, even though he's part of Asa, is that the concept of happiness and unhappiness make no sense to a devil ; they instrumentalizes them, doesn't understand them.
So she gets hit by Asa because, damn it, this concept of happiness and unhappiness belongs to men.
So Asa takes over and says she hasn't recovered from her mother's death because this event will always seem so unacceptable and horrible to her. Bad things don't disappear.
What changes is the memories we want to bring to the fore.
Snow.
Symbolising Denji's supreme misfortune of having killed his brother to the point of vomiting with guilt.
Symbolically, it is this same vomiting that spits out the snow.
The snow is not just a trauma.
Aki was obsessed by the memory of the tragedy of his family, who were also killed in snowy weather.
And when Aki decides to visit his family's graves, to pay his respects tragically at his family's graves
He can't do it
Because two idiots divert his attention.
Forcing Aki to look away from the unhappiness of the past
To face the happiness right in front of him.
What Aki realised just before his death was that he had never seen happiness, or rather he had chosen not to.
Because happiness isn't there to be found, it's there, it's just there to be looked at, plunged in a pile of shit but it's sometimes there, but we refuse to consider that this thing is happiness, we can hope for more, can't we?
You have to eat this crappy hamburger, even if it means throwing up.
This is the taste of happiness.
Back to the snow
Which you associate with Denji's sadness and Aki's death
Yet this snow fight is Aki's last happiness
Seeing that snow again, associated with that fateful day when he lost his family
Holding that snow in his hands, and playing with his little brother, a little brother he has found again
What if this scene wasn't something he had to endure, but a choice? Aki's choice not to see, the gun held to his eyes, the choice to lull himself into one last sweet illusion, one last bandage, one last cigarette, to escape from this reality that he had always stubbornly tried to face, to escape from it.
But Denji is crying at this point.
Happiness cannot be total happiness, it melts, like snow.
Unhappiness will always be diametrically opposed.
The fact remains that snow is this temporary oblivion, this misfortune that we take in our hands to make snowballs, this moment of fun condemned to melt, snow determines what we do with our misfortune and our happiness.
Snow represents what we decide to see.
It is the forgetting, or rather the silencing of painful memories.
To realize that the snow is cold is to realize the end of happiness, because you're not playing anymore.
I don't like playing snowball: I don't like pretending to be happy anyway.
These memories will not disappear, but we can choose not to see them too much
The snow will remain cold, it will be condemned to melt, it is this moment, what we do with this moment.
Because if it didn't melt, no life would develop
If happiness and unhappiness were not this constant ambivalence, this intermingling of happy and painful moments, if this ephemeral aspect did not exist
Then no life would exist.
When Denji vomits snow, it's because he realises once again the association between happiness and unhappiness that snow represents.
Disgusted by this sad reality too, of not seeing unchanging happiness, of seeing life not as a burger, but as a shit burger.
But the snow is beautiful and it won't stay.
Like these two.
#csm 182#chainsaw man 182#chainsaw man#csm#csm part 2#csm spoilers#denji#asa mitaka#asa#yoru#pochita#aki hayakawa#power#power hayakawa#denji hayakawa#my thoughts
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Love Song
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader
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a/n: just needed to do some general hc’s to get all my thoughts in order i hope you all enjoy!!
Love song - Lana Del Rey
warnings: the formatting is weird idk why i can’t fix it but y’all will live, swearing, a little itty bitty bit of violence, every facet of clarisse finding its way here and i love them all, tell me if i missed anything!!
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i’m sure we all agree on this
but clarisse is very protective of you
even if you’re a very capable fighter, even if you’re even better than her, clarisse is still so protective of you
i mentioned this in one of my fics (maybe so it goes…????) but like the reason behind this is the fact that clarisse is just SCARED
she is terrified of losing you bc you are the only one she feels like she can be herself with
like clarisse is insane!!!!! in a good way!!!!! but also she’s a 17 year old girl…. she wants TO BE LOVED
she tries to talk to you about how she feels about her dad and about everything else in her life, but even though she doesn’t want to be, she’s locked up like a vault
she knows her emotions are always super intense and she has big reactions
major anger issues but they’ve gotten better with age
the problem is she spent her entire life being told that she needed to calm down, that she couldn’t feel like that all the time, and she just tried to shut down
obviously that did not work
but it still makes it virtually impossible to talk about her feelings
when it comes to you tho she’s an open book
she’s a daughter of ares she’s headstrong she’s proud and her fatal flaw is PRIDE
i mentioned this before but she wants everyone to know that you’re hers and she’s yours
your relationship is partly very public
she’s not afraid to touch you or kiss you
she’s not afraid to show you off and (needs to) show everyone that yes your beautiful self belongs to HER
so naturally she gets very jealous
even when you’re like clarisse you are INSANE
there’s been a few times when you first started dating and you were still getting comfortable and weren’t that public yet so like someone would flirt with you
it went like this
boy: hey what’s up you’re kinda fine
y/n: oh! oh yeah no….. no…..
clarisse: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU—
then she started attacking him
lost dessert privileges for a month, she proudly declared that it was worth it (besides you would sneak her bites of yours like)
now that everyone knows you’re hers her jealousy is rooted a lot more in delusion and insecurity
you’ll be like in a group talking someone and she’ll pull you closer and be like “i think that guys staring at you a little too much.”
“clarisse no the fuck he’s not what”
b/c of the fact that she isn’t a son for her father she gets insanely jealous if specifically a MAN gets even an inch too close however innocently
she doesn’t want to think it but she thinks you’ll eventually realize her father is right and she’s not as useful or good bc she’s a girl
most of the time when she gets jealous bc of her insecurities she just becomes extra clingy
but also any emotion she feels she gets extra clingy to you so sometimes it’s hard to tell LMAO
she isn’t really a big hand holder but that’s only because she’s actually holding you CLOSER to her by your waist
also one more note about your relationship publically
everyone gets whiplash bc like she’s a BULLY fo everyone else and then you walk over and she’s all heart eyes
i hate everyone but you trope save me
save me i hate everyone but you trope
THIS HAPPENED IN IN A GOOD WAY
clarisse: pushes percy over
you: nuh uh clarissseeeeeeee
clarisse: omg hi beautiful gf
you: touches her shoulder, looks at her disapprovingly
clarisse: fine i’ll go, *scares percy*, bye bye beautiful ily
like she’s just being a bitch and then all of a sudden you come around and she’s like hiiiiiii babyyyyy how is my gorgeous gorgeous girl today??
so outwardly clarisse is just very proud and touchy
privately she lets herself be a little more chill
this is where she really touchy you thought before was worse nah
idk if y’all have noticed but in my fics clar’s always holding on y/n’s hips and that’s just me self projecting bc i have the most horrid hip dips but my point still stands
SHE LOVES YOUR HIPS
would totally call them “love handles” IM SORRYY
but she just likes having a place to hold where she can just like kinda actually physically grab you with her hands
like yeah she can wrap her arms around your waist but she likes to GRAB you
cuddling w her is fun bc like this girl cannot get ENOUGH of you there’s only like three ways you cuddle
you on top of her whether just like completely on top of her (one of her favs) or just with your head on her chest
this is what happens whenever you feel scared
like there was a monster attack just near the barrier and you’ve all been feeling uneasy all day
TRUST you are sleeping in her bed tonight
wraps her arms around you so tight it’s like she’s crushing you
also she’s running your back or caressing your head whichever you prefer
she keeps her spear right next to her bed and makes sure you can see it so you know however subconsciously NOTHING can hurt you bc she’s right there (nothings gonna hurt you baby vibes)
or she’s on top of you this one usually happens when she’s feeling a little extra insecure and jealous and it’s like no one can see you if she’s on top of her so then you’re hers
she isn’t the smartest one in the bunch but she has good intentions!!!!
also she lays on top of you if you get hurt
like after so it goes for example when y/n got that little cut on her hand
you’re like “clar pls you’re crushing me”
“um ok you scared the shit out of me today tho you need to LET ME do this fuck”
third option
you’re both laying on your side and facing each other legs tangled together and she’s probably whispering to you
she’s a big whisperer i feel it in my heart
like tracing her hands on your face and saying your so beautiful or telling you how you make her feel
oh lord take me now
also she loves you the way hozier loves
“someone asked me in the end i’d tell them ‘put me back in it’ // darlin’ i would do it again // if i could hold for a minute”
“when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold dark earth no grave could hold my body down i’d crawl back to her”
like she BREATHES for you
if she died and then you were like “i miss you” trust she would find a way to come back to life
totally daydreams about going on such a fantastical quest that the gods offer both of you immortality so you can be together forever and ever and ever and ever and ever
like if the world ends y’all would still be there having a little picnic date
devotion is the only word that comes close
anyways
ok nicknames she calls you:
baby, angel, gorgeous, pretty thing/girl, beautiful, lovely, dummy (lovingly)
(recently saw a few posts abt clarisse saying mama/mamas i may be swayed)
dates she takes you on:
forces you to train w her even if you don’t like it but she lets you win OBVIIIII, under the stars in the woods, take your dinners to go and sneak back to either hers or your cabin to eat together, secret makeout sessions in the bathroom her cabin your cabin anywhere she can get her hands on you
this is so random but i get horrible migraines and i am ADDICTED to these like headache relief frequency sounds on youtube i swear they work and i was like omg you can’t have electronics at chb I WOULD NOT SURVIVE
so if you are a real one like me and get horrible migraines but this goes for being sick in general she’s like a little puppy pretending to be a wolf barely holding it together
she’ll be like at the foot of your bed begging you not to go into the light while shouting at someone at the same time to refill your water
you like have a cold
she would rub your temples if you had a headache and she would literally be like a doll for you to move around like oh you wanna lay on her chest? by all means
you wanna lay upside down with your feet in her face? as long as you get better you can do whatever you want!
you don’t wanna touch her at all? that’s where she draws the line
you’ll be like “ugh i’m hot get away from me”
“okay ☹️☹️”
“why are you touching my feet with your feet”
she places you above everyone else
like yeah other people are ok…….
but you 😍😍😍😍😍😍
this is slightly cringe but she would fr burn the whole world down and not let a flame touch you
LIKE HAVE YALL SEEN THE ANONS IVE BEEN POSTING AND THE CAPTURE THE FLAG THINGS 😱😱😱😱 (y’all always check my blog im always posting the funniest shit bc i’m funny)
“you’re one opposite teams blah blah blah you get hurt clarisse drops EVERYTHING to help you even if just a paper cut” (i have no chill fic coming soon)
THEN THEN the other one that was like “ok but what if you ACTUALLY get hurt like broken leg”
clarisse just goes crazy when you’re hurt
in so it goes: “what if that cut gets infected?”
you’re her WORLD she literally can’t stand the thought or something happening to you or else she starts literally shaking in anger and sadness
but when clarisse gets hurt it’s a whole other story
LIKE FUCK YOU JUST WANNA CARE ABOUT HER AND SHES ALL LIKE “it’s chill.”
NO ITS NOT YOURE GONNA BLEED OUT 😭😭
clarisse never let’s anyone but you see her true emotions
like yeah when you’re in public and you’re being cutesy she starts smiling and everyone is SO confused
but still
she never lets anyone see her as WEAK
so she always downplays her injuries in terms of how much they hurt, but flaunts them off proudly at the same time?? yeah that makes sense
after a capture the flag game you march her to the bathroom with a first aid kit “ok baby take off your shirt”
she always makes some flirty comment like SHUSH NOT RN
then she has all these bruises and every once in a while a cut from someone’s sword
you’re like 😔😔💔
you’re the only one she will let clean her up
unless she like breaks a bone or needs stitches (which has never happened) no way in hell she’s going to the healers
if you’re a child of apollo or smth she’s like “i literally have my own person healer right here…..”
anyways i think that’s all but i will probably be updating this when i think of more stuff bc as we know i have no chill
thank you all sm for reading and reblogging and liking and commenting and sending all of your WONDERFUL asks they make me so happy i’m always giggling when i get one
anyways bye bye 😘
—
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo tv show#pjo x reader
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sleepy!Tara Carpenter HCs
Pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: In all the times you fall asleep with Tara, she's always in your arms.
Word count: 1,7k.
Content: cursing, mentions of ghostface, fluff, slightly angst, LOTS of cuddles, sleep disorders, tara's horrible sleep habits.
Note: Alright, I don't know who first started the headcanon of Tara sleepwalking, but thank you cause it made me think about things.
English is not my first language.
- Tara has many different facets of behavior when she's sleepy and all of them end with her acting like a clingy koala.
- Will use you as her personal pillow at every opportunity she gets, whether in quick naps or during the night. Don't even try to escape it. Head lying on your shoulder or lap, leaning against your body and completely melted in your arms.
- If she's too drunk after a party, she'll pass out on you the second you lie down and even if she's mad after a fight, she'll drag you to the bed by your wrist and put your arms around her waist, fixing you the way she wants, before crossing her arms with a frown and her back turned to you.
- It's no use tho, a few minutes later she turns around again to bury her face in your chest or neck and intertwine your legs together. A stupid argument isn't worth a bad night's sleep, even if she's still very mad at you (she’s not).
- Has frequent nightmares, but doesn't like to talk about it. Tara wakes up scared and with her heart racing and becomes extremely shy and quiet as she asks you to hold her tighter.
- She insists that her dreams don't scare her anymore, but the way she's clearly alarmed after it happens tells you enough to know that it's not true, so you just do as she asks and do your best to make sure she doesn't spend the nights alone and embarrassed of being affected by it.
- Tara often can't go back to sleep after them, so she follows you around the apartment while you stay up with her, insisting that she's not tired even though she yawns loudly while you prepare a late-night snack or put on some random show for you to watch on TV.
- Poor baby has had a lot of trouble falling asleep since Ghostface – she has practically chronic dark circles under her eyes – let alone sleeping peacefully, so when it happens, Tara sleeps like a rock. As if there could be a bang in the house and she still wouldn't wake up.
- It’s a sleepwalker and sleep talker. Tara is very restless – you've already been kicked a few times because of that. Better be prepared to be frightened a lot until you get used to it, because she won't admit that she actually does this. You don't know if she just doesn't want to admit it out of shame or if she's in denial – or maybe she's just gaslighting you for fun, who knows? Your girlfriend can be a little smartass when she wants.
- Tara says disjointed words most of the time, what she's dreaming about or conversations you've had throughout the week, topics you didn't even remember talking about but suddenly her hoarse voice wakes you up and she's mumbling about something silly that the core four did together or even full sentences that leave you simply confused.
- At first you think she’s actually talking to you and you poke her to ask what she's saying and she wakes up irritated. Girly gets so, so grumpy about you waking her up, why the hell did you do that? She was so comfortable sprawled on top of you. What is that? No, she didn't say anything. Shush.
You wake up one night with a hand too small to be another Ghostface slapping you squarely in the nose, propping yourself up on your elbows and looking around in alarm, only to find Tara in the far corner of the bed lying in a way that couldn't possibly be comfortable, one of her legs hooked into the crook of your knee.
“...the car,” she mumbled and you moved closer to hear better, confused and scratching one of your eyes to ward off the tiredness.
“What?” You ask quietly, holding back a yawn, “What you said, baby?”
Tara shifts her position, looking slightly uncomfortable, her hand almost reaching you again as she rubs her face into the pillow.
“No,” she turns again, “The blue car.”
Why does it feel like she's angry with you?
Noticing that her eyes were still tightly closed, you arch an eyebrow and lightly shake her shoulder.
“What car?” you ask when she finally opens her eyes.
“What?” Tara looks just as perplexed as you.
“The car. The blue car,” you repeat, curious, “What about that?”
She stares at you for a long moment, seeming to try to assimilate what you're saying.
“You woke me up to talk about a damn car?”
"You tell me!" You exclaim, “What’s with the blue car?”
Tara snorts in complete disbelief, adjusting herself back in your arms and choosing to ignore your confused expression. You lay there, cradling her safely and being the one without sleep this time, wondering what the hell car she was talking about.
- Sometimes she murmurs variations of 'I love you', spoken softly against the skin of your neck, so over time it stops confusing you and becomes just captivating.
- You almost have a heart attack when you see her sleepwalking for the first time, thinking that someone had broken into the apartment.
- Sam had to sit down with you and explain to you that Tara does this since they were kids, after the high scream you gave when you saw a five-foot shadow trying to open the wardrobe with unfocused eyes and failing miserably.
- You woke up the whole house – including your girlfriend – with the sound, but at least it gave you all a good laugh and a completely confused Tara cursing everyone and going back to bed.
- In defense of her and your sleep, this doesn't happen that much. These are peculiarities that occur mainly due to stress; if she has a fight with you or Sam, for example, or during college tryout season.
- It also happens because of the nightmares she has. You and Sam are convinced that this would improve if she went to therapy like her sister, but you know how stubborn your girlfriend is.
- This also becomes captivating, you no longer wake everyone up when you find her sitting at the kitchen counter writing a grocery list in the dark because she forgot to do the task during the day and kept that in mind.
- You always gently guide her back to bed and she curls up around you immediately, because as much as the 'You can't wake a sleepwalker!' thing is bullshit, it's better not to have to deal with the sad pout on her tired face when this happens.
- Tara is a BIG cuddler. Even if she doesn't stay like that all night, she has to have your body touching hers and fall asleep like that.
- She is usually the little spoon, but likes to be the big one when she is angry or feeling protective about something.
- It's comical when that happens, it's like having a little backpack clinging to you, even if you're not much taller than her, because Tara insists on trying – she never succeeds – to rest her chin on the top of your head in those days, so the difference is always stark. Girl is determined.
She's upset after a stupid party where a random guy hit on you, practically foaming at the mouth while mumbling about 'That fucking dumb bastard, how dare he?' on the way back.
Your girlfriend is still upset as you prepare for bed, even though your reassurances and soft kisses have calmed her earlier anger. Now she's just quiet, insecure.
You lie down among the sea of pillows and blankets spread out on the bed, opening your arms: “Come here, dear.”
Tara goes, but instead you feel her weight sink into the mattress behind you under the blankets, warm arms wrapping around you tightly.
She only truly relaxes when she buries her face in your hair and breathes in your scent. You feel her melt, like she can't get enough of your touch.
- Her favorite position, however, is when she is turned to you, her face buried in your neck and her body pressed against your chest, with your arms around her waist keeping her close.
- Likes to nap during the day and stay up late making movie marathons or finishing college work. Takes every chance she gets to simply rest with her head on your thighs for a few minutes.
- On those occasions when you are not with her and find her dozing on the couch, Tara will wake up for a moment, blink her eyes innocently and ask you to join her for just a few minutes. Her doe eyes can be very convincing, there's no way denying her that.
- You promise to yourself that you won't fall asleep, but you end up passing out less than 20 minutes later, with her warm body sprawled on top of you. It's like you can't help it, your girlfriend is basically a walking heater and she's so comfortable.
“Tara, I need to finish this book.”
“But baby,” she takes your hand in hers, rubbing circles into the wrist with her thumb, “Lay here with me just for five minutes. Please?”
You sigh, knowing you’ve lost immediately: “Fine. But just a little.”
- She’s not really afraid of the dark, but feels safer in a brighter place, sometimes leaving the door ajar to let a flight of the light from the hallway enter the room.
- You buy her a cute night light as a gift once and she gets angry at first, thinking you were mocking her, but over time she starts to shyly take the item out of the drawer to turn it on on days when nightmares haunt her. You keep a few extras at your dormitory too, just in case.
- She doesn't snore or breathe through her mouth – in fact Tara is very silent except for her occasional murmurs – but sometimes she breathes heavily in her chest due to her asthma. She loves it when you rub your hand up and down her back to calm her and follow her breathing, especially on days when she's feeling under the weather.
- She sleeps with as many blankets and pillows as she can fit on the bed and curls up in them like a ball – don't worry about feeling too hot, she almost always ends up monopolizing them all at some point during the night.
- Set several times to wake up in the morning, all with the same default sound because music annoys her.
- Always gets satisfied when she wakes up next to you, the sleepy smile marking the dimples in her cheeks while there is a good morning kiss waiting for you.
- In short, sleeping with Tara may have its... peculiarities, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.
#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter#scream#scream 6#jenna ortega x reader#jenna marie ortega#tara carpenter fluff#denwrites
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Mini troublemakers!
Summary: When each Stellaron Hunter encounters a robot reader with the unique ability to create adorable, miniature replicas of themselves, their reactions reveal hidden facets of their personalities.
Tags: Kafka x Reader, Firefly x Reader, Silver Wolf x Reader, Blade x Reader, Robot!Reader, Platonic Relationships, Mini Robots, Friendship, Slice of Life, Fluff and Light Humor, Bittersweet Moments.
A/N: 🥺💖THIS IS SO CUTE!!
Tag (as I can't answer your request so I have to resort on tagging you instead): @lavenderlovekakavasha
Kafka
Kafka observed with an intrigued smile as you, the robot, tinkered with a miniature version of yourself. A tiny, whirring replica with shiny eyes turned and beamed up at her. "A little army of yourself, hmm?" she mused, her smooth voice drifting in a teasing tone.
She leaned closer, letting her wine-colored hair spill over one shoulder as she observed the smaller bot. “Adorable. A bit of charm and smarts combined, just like the real thing.” She tapped the mini bot’s head lightly, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "It suits you, actually. I might have to commission a tiny assistant from you myself. Maybe with one of my coats.”
The little bot chirped in response, and Kafka’s laughter was low and warm. "Let’s see what you can do with it,” she said, her gaze focused, “and if you’re up for a little fun.”
Firefly
Firefly watched with quiet admiration as your small robot creation moved around. She crouched down, reaching out a cautious hand to the curious, cute little bot, which hummed softly as it approached her. “These… you created them yourself?” she asked, her tone holding a mix of wonder and reserve.
When you confirmed, she gave a small, almost hidden smile. “They’re… fragile, but strong. Like something meant to last in its own way.” The bot blinked at her, and Firefly’s eyes softened. “Reminds me of the Iron Cavalries back in Glamoth. Only… friendlier.” she added, stroking one of the bot’s tiny antennae.
She looked up at you thoughtfully. “Do they ever get scared?” she asked, a hint of something deeper in her tone. “Out there on their own?”
You reassured her, showing how they could always find their way back to you with a signal, and Firefly’s smile grew just a little. “Then they’re lucky.”
Silver Wolf
"Okay, this is genius!" Silver Wolf leaned in, peering closely at your little bot. It made a light, buzzing sound, like a computer processing, and Silver Wolf’s eyes lit up with excitement. “So, they can copy themselves, hack simple systems, and even do cute dances. You realize how much we could exploit this?”
She nudged the bot playfully, letting out a snicker as it wobbled and then righted itself. “With a few tweaks, I bet I could turn these guys into the ultimate diversion—just imagine the look on Screwllum’s face when these little cuties start hacking his defenses.”
The little bot tried imitating her gesture, lifting a stubby little arm in a “cheer” motion, and she laughed. “Yup, they’re my kind of bots! We could be an unstoppable team. You up for a little programming jam session?”
Blade
Blade stood in silence, his eyes fixed on the small robot rolling around in front of him. You watched as he knelt down, expression unreadable, while the little bot wheeled over and stopped at his foot. It beeped softly, looking up at him with a wide, innocent lens.
He seemed almost hesitant, looking from the small bot to you. “It’s… small,” he finally said, as though the idea itself was strange. The bot moved closer, and Blade didn’t flinch, even as it nuzzled against his hand like a pet.
“Strange to see something so… unburdened by fate,” he muttered under his breath. There was an intensity in his eyes as he reached out to gently touch the bot’s head. “If only everything could be so simple.”
The little bot let out a chirp, and you told him it was their way of saying they liked him. He let out a rare, low chuckle. “Then I suppose it’s good it doesn’t know who I am. Still, I… appreciate it.”
He glanced up at you, something softer in his gaze. “Keep them close. They’re safer that way.”
This is very lazily written, sorry y'all. I'm not feeling well today.
#hsr#honkai star rail#x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#stellaron hunters#blade honkai#blade hsr#blade x y/n#hsr blade#silver wolf#silver wolf x reader#silver wolf hsr#silver wolf honkai star rail#kafka#kafka hsr#kafka honkai star rail#firefly#hsr firefly#firefly hsr#firefly honkai star rail#platonic relationships#aventurine x you#gn reader#platonic love#fluff#humor#friends#Mini robots#Robot reader
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— moonlit promises || park seonghwa
idol!seonghwa x non-idol!reader
synopsis: you just miss your fiancé
genre: fluff
trigger warnings: none
words: 1.3 k
reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.
!minors do not interact!
— hi there! this was written for my best friend when she was having a bad day. "moonlit promises" was personalized to suit her so i decided to post only a short part of the original work. since i posted a lot of angst lately, i think it's a good time to post this short fluff.
love, monika. ♡
if you enjoyed this post, i’d be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!
taglist: @hoeforalbedo (if you'd like to join my taglist you can just let me know here!)
You sat by the window, the soft glow of the moon casting a gentle light across your small room. It was late, and the world outside was quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.
You hold your engagement ring delicately between your fingertips, and you can’t help but marvel at its beauty. The ring glimmers in the soft light, its facets catching the light in a mesmerizing dance of sparkle and shine. The centerpiece, a brilliant diamond, seems to hold a universe of its own within its depths, reflecting the love and commitment shared between Seonghwa and you. You trace the intricate patterns of the band, feeling the smooth metal against your skin. Each curve and twist seems to tell a story of your journey together, from the moment you first met to the promise of forever that now lies before you. The ring feels like a tangible symbol of your love, a constant reminder of the bond you share and the future you are building together.
As you gaze at the ring, you feel a swell of emotion wash over you. It's more than just a piece of jewelry; it's a promise, a vow, a testament to the depth of your love and the commitment you have made to each other. And as you slip the ring onto your finger, you know you won't be able to resist calling your fiancé.
With your phone in hand, you dialled Seonghwa's number, heart fluttering with anticipation as it rang, hoping that he would have a minute or two to talk.
"Hey, love," Seonghwa's voice greeted you, warm and comforting despite the miles between you.
"Hi, Seonghwa," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd call you."
"Ah, I'm glad you did, we already finished our rehearsals for today," Seonghwa said softly. "Did the stars made you think about me again?" he asked, his voice carrying a soft smile that you could hear.
"Yeah..." You admitted shyly "I miss you a lot, especially on nights like these when the stars are out and shining so brightly. Nights like these always reminds me of you, but even though they shine brightly, they just don't seem as magical without you by my side."
"I miss you too, baby," Seonghwa whispered "But talking to you makes it feel like you're right here with me." Your heart swelled at his words, your gaze drifting to the sky outside once again. When you look up at the stars, you feel a deep connection to your fiancé, even across the miles that separate you. The stars serve as a reminder of your love and the special bond you two share, it’s like the stars are strengthening your connection despite the physical distance. You sighed softly; voice tinged with longing as you spoke to Seonghwa through the phone.
"I wish you could be here, holding me in your arms," you murmured, as you wrapped the blanked around you, your words carried the weight of your separation. "The hoodies you left... they've lost your smell already." There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Seonghwa replied, his voice filled with empathy.
"I know, love. Next time I will spray all of them with my perfume twice as much." He laughed softly before continuing "I miss holding you close, feeling your warmth against me. I miss your eyes. But even though I'm not there physically, know that my love for you hasn't faded, not even a little bit." you closed your eyes, a tear slipping down your cheek as you listened to Seonghwa's words.
"I know," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "And I hold onto that." Seonghwa's heart ached at the sadness in your voice, wishing more than anything that he could be there to comfort you.
"I promise, Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with determination, "One day soon, I'll hold you in my arms again." you smiled through tears, feeling a glimmer of hope within your chest.
"You better keep that promise, Park Seonghwa" you replied playfully, voice warmer than before. "Until then, I'll cherish every moment we have together, even if it's just through late-night phone calls and memories of your scent."
You never blamed Seonghwa for living his life as an idol, truth be told, even after all these years in a relationship, you remained his fan, genuinely thrilled by his success. You knew that no one deserved success as much as ATEEZ. From his early days, you had been there for him, supporting him every step of the way. Yet on a night like this, the ache of missing him became overwhelming. You wished he was beside you.
"Speaking of stars," Seonghwa said, his voice taking on a playful tone, "did I ever tell you that you're my little star? Shining bright even in the darkest of nights." your cheeks flushed at his endearing words.
"You always know how to make me smile," you said, heart overflowing with love for him.
"And you always know how to make my heart skip a beat," Seonghwa replied, his affection evident in every word. As you continued to talk, your laughter mingling with the gentle night sounds, you couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like these, when distance seemed to fade away and your love shone brighter than any star in the sky.
"I love you, Y/N," Seonghwa's voice came through the phone, gentle and sincere, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. "And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you" Your breath caught in your throat at his declaration, your heart swelling with love for him.
"And I can’t wait to marry you," It’s been four years since you started dating, one year into being engaged, but you never got used to hearing those three words from Seonghwa. "I love you too, Seonghwa," you whispered, voice filled with emotion. You lingered in silence for a moment, basking in the warmth of the love you shared, before Seonghwa spoke again, his voice soft and soothing.
"You should go to sleep, my love," he said tenderly. "What time is it there like... 3 am?" your eyes fluttered open at Seonghwa's words, a small smile playing on your lips as you glanced at the clock beside your bed.
"Almost, I’m amazed that you know," you replied softly, "It's actually 2:40 am." Seonghwa sighed on the other end of the line, the frustration evident in his tone.
"I hate these time zones," he admitted, his voice tinged with longing. "I wish I could be there to tuck you in and cuddle you close." Your heart ached at his words; your own longing mirrored in his. "But I guess tonight you will have to settle for my hoodie,"
"I wish you could be here too," you whispered, voice filled with sadness, "But knowing that you're thinking of me, even from miles away, is enough to keep me warm." Seonghwa's response was immediate, his voice filled with love and reassurance.
"I'll always be thinking of you, baby," he said softly. "No matter the distance." You felt a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that even in the darkness of night, Seonghwa's love would always light the way.
Seonghwa's voice continued to fill the quiet of the night, a steady rhythm that lulled you deeper into sleep. His words were like whispered promises, wrapping around you.
"Sleep well, my darling," Seonghwa murmured, his voice soft and affectionate. "Dream of us, together under the stars, where distance cannot separate our hearts." You smiled, your dreams already filled with visions of Seonghwa's warm smile and the promise of your future together. With his voice as your anchor, you surrendered to the peaceful embrace of sleep, knowing that no matter the distance, your love would always bring you back to each other. And as you drifted off to sleep, Seonghwa's voice remained with you, a constant presence in the darkness, guiding you through the night until the dawn of a new day.
#ateez x reader#ateez au#ateez x y/n#ateez fanfic#ateez x you#seonghwa x y/n#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa fluff#seonghwa x you
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https://www.tumblr.com/furfag-cringelord/756233477525028864
Why did my brain imagine this with either Owl and Silt or Silt and Eklutna’s Ghost
You’re so right, thank you so much for sharing this idea:
Of course! Anyone is welcome to use the facets of my story and make them their own including specifics like the leader's paw prints or the healer's aprons. I would appreciate a shout out (mostly so I can see your guys stories), but I don't claim to own the concept of crude oil or a magic pool so no problem if you don't want to. And always feel free to message if you have questions like this and want a faster reply!
Eklutna liked Owlstar, though he wouldn't be who she chose as a mate if he wasn't the leader. He's charismatic and sweet and a bit of a push-over and she probably would have developed deeper feelings for him if they had become mates, but her first priority would always be making sure her kits were ready to rule the clan when the time came. Owlstar had a pretty significant crush on Eklutna, but it was mostly shallow. He was going along with everything because she was pretty and constantly flattered him and if there was no prophecy or kits involved he would have broken things off with her pretty soon.
Wildfirecry wears a dried coat of oil not only as a symbol of his status but also as protection for him and his patients. It acts as a barrier for germs and blood. Owlstar, on the other hand, only wears his oil marking when absolutely necessary, such as officiating ceremonies or attending gatherings. This is a choice on both of their parts, and other healers or leaders might choose to behave differently, like Weed, who doesn't wear any oil because she doesn't want anything to do with starclan.
Nope. She just knew that in order to get close to Owlstar she needed to drive a wedge between him and his mate. Siltsplash was simply collateral damage. This may have changed since Eklutna's death due to some parenting disagreements.
Starclan told Eklutna that "Owlstar's kits will rule the clan". She decided that she was going to make that "Owlstar and Eklutna's kits will rule the clan".
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── THE GLASS PRINCESS // ONE
Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.
Chapter Synopsis: You meet Mai, Ty Lee, and Prince Zuko.
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Zuko x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 5.6k
Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery
A/N: this is my first ever attempt at writing for atla despite how long ago i watched it and how much i’ve written since then HAHAH. tbh i don’t expect much to come of it but oh well we’ll see how it goes!! also this is an alternate universe — the extent of which things have been changed will become more apparent as we go along. also apologies in advance if anyone is ooc, i haven’t watched atla in forever so idk if i’ll get it right!
There was a pile of glass on the nightstand when you woke up. It glimmered in the light, the fire refracting on the shards and forming tiny little rainbows on the wooden floor. Rusty streaks stained the faceted tips, though, and you winced as you tried to imagine how that quantity of blood could’ve made its way there.
“It’s yours,” a girl said. You startled, for you hadn’t noticed her presence, but it seemed like that had been her plan. She stood in the corner, her clothes a dull maroon, her hair glossy black and eyes a sharp, dark shade. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she regarded you, but her face was otherwise smooth, betraying nothing.
“Mine?” you said, voice cracking from disuse. “What do you mean? The — the blood?”
“And the glass,” she affirmed. “In some sense, anyways. Some of the pieces, we had to pull out of you, and others were apparently just lying around where you were found. At least, that’s what Zuko said. I’m still not quite sure why he went and collected it all to bring back, though…”
You squinted at the glass, trying to find some familiarity in it, but there was none. You had no idea why you would be surrounded by it, nor why it would be embedded in you. The girl waited for a second, but when you did not speak, she scoffed.
“Sorry,” you said automatically.
“We’ve been waiting for you to wake up for so long,” she said, an accusatory note entering her voice. “Zuko refuses to say anything, and it’s not like we can bully the crown prince himself into telling us what happened, so you’ve been our only chance at figuring everything out.”
“Oh,” you said, a migraine building behind your forehead as you tried to go through the events that had led to your presence here, in this austere room, on this plush mattress. “I — I don’t know.”
“You don’t know,” she repeated drearily. “Wow.”
“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I really don’t. I’m telling the truth.”
In fact, you were rapidly coming to the conclusion that you didn’t know anything. Your childhood, your family, your home…there was nothing. Where your memories ought to be was a bleak stretch like night, barely interrupted by flashes of blue. You reached for that blue, for that lovely shade like sapphire, but it was always just out of your grasp, something you could never quite touch no matter how much you wanted to.
“How about I tell you what I know, and we go from there?” she said. You nodded, though you were only half paying attention to her. The rest of you was fighting back a panic that threatened to twist your insides, a dread that was rotting through you, both sensations borne from the fear that you would never remember anything again.
“Prince Zuko was banished from the Fire Nation and told only to return once he found the Avatar,” she said. “He found him eventually, found him many times in fact, but he wasn’t able to capture him. It’s irrelevant, though — he did do something just as impossible. That is to say, he infiltrated Ba Sing Se.”
You thought that you were probably supposed to be awed by this, but considering you had zero idea what any of it meant, you just felt further confused. Still, you smiled at her, hoping she would keep talking until something or another made sense.
“Fire Lord Ozai couldn’t ignore the opportunity. He sent an army to the prince’s aid, and under his command, they managed to destroy the Earth Palace and depose the royal family. The Earth Kingdom’s in shambles, and all but the most secretive resistance efforts have vanished,” the girl, who had still not introduced herself, continued.
“I don’t see what this has to do with me,” you said, ducking your head.
“Neither do the rest of us,” she said. “That’s what you were supposed to know. For some reason, the fact is that upon returning from Ba Sing Se, the prince had your body in tow. You were wrapped in so many bandages we couldn’t tell what you were at first, and then we thought you must be closer to a corpse than anything, but he insisted you were alive, and that we had to heal you.”
“The prince himself did such a thing?” you said. Even you understood what the magnitude of that title meant, what kind of person a prince was bound to be. And if that was the case, if this mysterious Zuko really was the prince of an entire nation, then why would he have sullied his victory with care for the brutalized body of a random girl?
“He did,” the girl said. “It was the first thing he saw to. Not the reclamation of his crown, but that you were being treated with the best technologies the Fire Nation has to offer. Don’t you think it’s strange? Worthy of investigation? Don’t you agree that we should be curious about what significance you have?”
“Yes, um, naturally,” you said, taken aback by the rapid-fire line of questioning. Despite her initially bland facade, she was surprisingly intense, relentless, even, the stark contrast between the two personalities enough to make you curl inwards.
“Maybe he loves you,” she said, narrowing her eyes at you, inspecting you critically. “I suppose it’d certainly be an explanation, though it wouldn’t give us any clues about who you are or why he might love you in the first place.”
“I wouldn’t know,” you said, shifting in your seat uncomfortably. “I don’t even know my own name, let alone whether I was in love with someone.”
“Don’t even know your own name?” the girl said, raising her eyebrows. “You really are pathetic. I’m impressed.”
“I can’t remember anything specific about my life. I know general things, of course. The color of the sky. The way the moon looks. But the history of the world, my own existence…these are things I cannot recall,” you said.
She appraised you with the beginnings of something like sympathy flickering in her irises. Clenching her jaw and deciding upon something, she straightened her back and turned to the door.
“I should tell Zuko you’re awake,” she said. “That’s what he told us to do, the instant you regained consciousness. I’ve put it off long enough.”
“Wait!” you said. “What’s your name?”
She glanced at you over her shoulder. You blinked at her, willing her to understand — that before you could meet this prince, you had to know something. Even if it was only as small as this girl’s name, you wanted to have at least one thing in your head, a word or other such piece of knowledge that you could cling to, that you could form a barrier around your mind with.
“Mai,” she said. She did not elaborate before slamming the door shut behind her, but it was enough for you. There was this one constant now — you knew a girl, and her name was Mai.
As you waited for Mai to return with the prince, you busied yourself with inspecting the room you were quartered in. You had mistakenly called it austere due to the lack of decorations hung up, but now that you had the chance to look closely, you noticed that the wall itself was covered with intricate, swirling designs engraved by a firm, steady hand. The blanket that had been drawn up around your shoulders and was now puddled around your hips was made of silk and stuffed with feathers, and its quality was such that it all but shimmered. This was not the kind of room that just anybody stayed in; it was a room fit for someone of high rank. A lady. And a lady you were not, yet here you sat, in this room that made you feel entirely out of place.
Only a few minutes had passed before the door slammed open, but it was not Mai nor any sort of prince who entered. It was another girl, as bubbly and cheery as Mai had been cool and collected. She beamed when she saw you sitting up and looking around, bounding over to place her hands on your shoulders.
“Hi! Hi, hi, I’m so glad you’re awake!” she said. You tried to smile back at her, but the exuberance was so jarring that you could not do anything but brace yourself against it.
“Thank you,” you managed to say as she shook you. “Who are you?”
“Ty Lee!” she said. You noticed that she had a habit of ending every sentence with her voice ticking up in delight, like she was perpetually thrilled with the world. It was even more of a contrast to Mai than you had anticipated, and you felt your head spinning as you tried to keep up with the differences.
“Did I know you before?” you said. She cocked her head.
“Huh? No, I have no idea who you are, just like you have no idea who I am. You sure are pretty, though! Even prettier when you’re not all passed out,” she said, miming fainting before beaming at you expectantly. You tried to laugh, but it was an awkward sound, clearly unconvincing.
“The same to you,” you said. “Er. Obviously, aside from the part about passing out.”
“Obviously!” she said. “Now, just stay very still, okay?”
You froze in place immediately, wondering what she was going to do but trusting that it would not be anything harmful. Or, perhaps trusting wasn’t quite the right word for it — you just had no choice but to obey, because you had no other metric for what was correct. Whether Ty Lee wanted to help or harm you, you couldn’t know for sure, but either way she would do something, and since she was only the second person whose face you had seen, you had to let her do it.
She jabbed her pointer fingers into your neck, side, and wrists, all in a quick, precise succession. You waited for something to happen, but there was nothing, and when she raised her eyebrows at you, you could only furrow your own in a non-answer.
“Felt nothing?” she said. You nodded in the affirmative. “Interesting.”
“Was I supposed to?” you said.
“I dunno!” she said. “I guess we’ll see once the others get here.”
“What do the others have to do with it?” you said. At this, she winked and raised her fingers to her lips, as if you two were sharing some silly secret.
“If I tell you, then that’ll ruin things! We can discuss it later, but for now, you have to keep it to yourself, okay?” she said.
“Why?” you said. It wasn’t accusatory; you were genuinely curious.
“Let’s just say that certain parties would not be pleased if they found out what I was doing,” she said, giggling nervously and glancing at the door. “And those parties aren’t the kind you really want to offend, so please just keep your mouth shut!”
“Don’t want to offend? Who, like Prince Zuko?” you said.
Before Ty Lee could respond, there was a knock at the door. She scrambled away from you, so that she was standing in the same corner Mai had been in, looking demure and respectful. It was like she had never spoken to you in the first place, and when she had arranged herself suitably, she motioned towards the door.
“Me?” you said.
“Yes, you!” she said. “It’s your room, isn’t it?”
“I would hardly know,” you reminded her. She considered this before making a face in agreement.
“Right, there is that fact. Anyways, yes. This isn’t a hospital wing or anything, it’s your room, which means that when someone knocks, it’s up to you to tell them if they can come in or not,” she said.
“You didn’t knock,” you said. Ty Lee cleared her throat.
“Ah, well, I’m from a Fire Nation family! People of higher rank are allowed to do things like barging in on others,” she said. “I can’t tell you the amount of times Princess Azula has stormed into my room without warning.”
“I see,” you said, mostly because you didn’t know who Princess Azula was or why she merited mention. “This must be a servant or something, then, considering they’re knocking on even my door.”
“Probably,” Ty Lee said. There was another knock, louder this time, and you swore under your breath as you realized you had forgotten to answer them.
“Come in!” you said, folding your hands in your lap and looking over at the doorway, wondering who it could possibly be.
To your surprise, it was a boy. He was dressed in fine armor, his dark hair tied back in a regal topknot, his features angular and his eyes a sharp gold. His face was set in a frown, but when he saw you, you thought you picked up on the faintest trace of happiness. Almost immediately, though, it was quashed by a scowl, so that you could not be quite sure if you had actually seen it or if you had just been imagining things.
Behind him was Mai, looking as bored as she had earlier, though she seemed marginally more excited to see Ty Lee than she had been when you had woken up. You supposed they must’ve been friends or something.
“You should bow,” Mai said, directing the statement at you.
“No way!” the boy said immediately, waving his hands in dissent before you could even move. “I mean, ah, she doesn’t have to do that. It’s fine.”
“Woah! That’s crazy, Zuko, normally you’re all about honor and tradition and whatnot!” Ty Lee said. “It’s strange to hear something like that coming from you.”
So this was Prince Zuko, the boy who had, for some reason, saved your life. He was the only one who knew anything about your past. Your name, your identity, your origin…if you wanted to know any of these things, then your best chance at finding them stood before you, gazing at you with an inscrutable expression.
“Your royal highness,” you said, not bothering to get out of bed but dipping your head in what you hoped was a sign of respect anyways. He coughed awkwardly.
“Um. Yes,” he said.
“So,” Mai observed from the spot she had taken beside Ty Lee, “she’s awake now.”
“I see that,” Prince Zuko said. Mai rolled her eyes.
“Will you tell us who she is? Or why you insisted on saving her, maybe?” she said.
“Why don’t you ask her?” he said. “She’d know as well as I would. Maybe better.”
“I already tried,” Mai said. The prince’s scowl deepened, the corners of his mouth tugging further downwards at the offhand statement, his eyes flicking to you before returning to Mai.
“Of course you did,” he said. “And what did she say?”
“Nothing,” Mai said.
“She doesn’t remember anything,” Ty Lee said. “Not even her own name. You’re the only one left who can tell us anything about her.”
Something in Prince Zuko’s demeanor shifted at that moment. A despairing anger warred with resignation and defeat, but below the surface, some other emotion was hidden, kept locked tightly away, something that he was suppressing, so that no one could dare to even attempt to comprehend it.
“I see,” he said. “Is that the case?”
He was asking you. You did not look at him when you responded, focusing on the pile of glass still stacked on the nightstand.
“Yes,” you said. “Your royal highness. It’s the case.”
Prince Zuko considered this, and for a moment, there was an eerie silence in the room, as you all waited to hear what he would say. Who were you? Would he finally disclose it, or would you be further stranded in the darkness?
“Ursa,” he said finally.
“Your mother?” Mai said. He shook his head.
“No, not her. It’s — um, it’s her. Her name,” he said, jutting his chin in your direction.
“She has the same name as your mother,” Mai said flatly.
“Yes,” he said.
Ursa. That was your name. You didn’t feel some great reclamation of your identity upon hearing it; in fact, it meant nothing to you, except that at some point, people must have called you that.
“Is that why you saved her?” Ty Lee said. “Because she has the same name as your mother?”
“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. “That’s exactly why.”
“Really? We thought you might’ve been in love with her or something,” Mai said. “I guess this is in character enough, though.”
“How’d you find someone with a Fire Nation name in Ba Sing Se, though?” Ty Lee said. Prince Zuko gave her an irritated look; she only gazed at him innocently until he sighed and looked away.
“She had been taken prisoner on the front lines and brought to Ba Sing Se to be, er…tortured. For — for Fire Nation secrets,” he said.
“Why would they think an ordinary girl would have Fire Nation secrets?” Mai said.
“It’s not like Fire Nation citizens are easy to kidnap!” he snapped. “She might not know any vital information about the nation, but it was probably better than nothing!”
“Well, sorry for asking,” Mai said, rolling her eyes at him once again. It seemed her fuse was particularly shorter when it came to him, not that it had ever appeared to be particularly long to begin with.
“Do you think they got anything out of her?” Ty Lee said, in a not-so-subtle attempt to change the subject and break the tension. Prince Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose.
“It doesn’t matter, does it?” he said.
“I guess not. Not now that Ba Sing Se is ours and the rest of the Earth Kingdom has all but fallen,” Ty Lee said.
“Right. Even if they found out anything from her, it didn’t help them in the end,” he said.
“What should we do with her?” Ty Lee said. “Poor girl, she doesn’t even know her lefts from her rights!”
“Uh, I do know that much…” you interjected. Ty Lee paid you no mind, continuing to speak to Prince Zuko like you weren’t there.
“She can’t live in the palace like this forever!” she said. “But she’s like a blind little child, alone in the world. Where can she even go?”
Prince Zuko looked at you, and then he exhaled heavily. You swallowed, waiting for his judgment, knowing that he now held your life in his hands, wondering what he would decide, wondering what fate was in store for you. For Ursa. Since you both were one and the same, after all.
“Send her to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. They’ll teach her what she needs to know to be a proper Fire Nation girl,” he said.
“She’s not a noblewoman, though,” Mai said.
“Do you think the headmistress will argue with me if I say I want her admitted?” Prince Zuko shot back, though there was a tinge of insecurity, a questioning undercurrent, like he really wasn’t sure if he would get away with it or not.
“Nope,” Ty Lee said. “But do you think she — Ursa — can handle it? I mean, we were there, right, Mai? You remember how it was.”
“It’s a tough environment,” Mai agreed. You could tell what she was thinking: what place did a girl who came to the palace covered in bandages and glass, in the arms of a once-banished prince, have in a royal academy? “She’ll be eaten alive there.”
“And what if someone challenges her to an Agni Kai?” Ty Lee said. “Do you think she could win that? Is she that good at bending?”
“She’s not a Firebender,” Prince Zuko said.
“Why was she on the front lines if she’s not even a Firebender?” Mai said before pausing. “Never mind. I don’t feel like listening to your dramatics when you explain. But, you know, she’ll struggle that much more without bending to protect her.”
Prince Zuko’s face settled into a pensive mask of thought before he lit up, brandishing his pointer finger as if he’d come up with the idea of the century. Mai did not look amused, though Ty Lee seemed fascinated by what he might say.
“Ty Lee! You ran away from school to join the circus, right?” he said. Ty Lee went from looking fascinated to nervous, but she nodded.
“Yes, but I’m back now, so I don’t know why you’re bringing that up,” she said.
“My sister doesn’t have any immediate need for you,” he said, eyes gleaming. “Maybe it’s time you finally finish your education for good.”
“You want me to go back to the Royal Fire Academy?” Ty Lee repeated. Prince Zuko nodded.
“Yes, that’s right. You can watch out for her,” he said, jabbing his pointer finger at you.
“What will Azula say?” Ty Lee said.
“It’ll be fine,” Mai said. “If she needs you, you can just take a vacation from school or something. It’s better that you do this than laze around the palace.”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” you said quietly, speaking up of your own volition for the first time. “To anyone. I’m just grateful that you saved me, Prince Zuko. The rest of it is unnecessary. You don’t need to force the royal academy to accept me, and you don’t need to make Ty Lee come just to watch out for me. It’s enough that I’m alive. I can make my own life from here.”
“You don’t know anything. How can you expect to make a new life when you don’t even remember the one you’ve had until this point?” he said.
“I suppose there might be some benefit to Ursa going to school,” Mai added. “As long as she can survive the academy, it’ll be good for her. She can get caught up on everything she doesn’t remember, and it’ll be in an environment where her classmates are the children of the Fire Nation elite, so she can make further connections with people in high places.”
“Maybe she can find someone who has a brother she can date!” Ty Lee said, swooning.
“No!” Prince Zuko said. You all gave him strange looks; when he noticed, he turned a red as bright as his garb. “It wouldn’t be proper. You know, since you’ll be attending in my name and all; if you date anyone, it’ll reflect on me. So you can only date the people I approve of.”
“Alright. If that’s what you think is best,” you said. The last thing you wanted was to make things difficult for the boy who had, by all accounts, saved your life.
“I do,” he said.
“Uh-huh,” Mai said from the corner. “You know, Ty Lee, this reminds me of when Azula took us to the zoo that one time.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess it does!” Ty Lee said, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggled.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Prince Zuko said.
“Is there a zoo nearby?” you said. “I don’t remember ever going to one. I’d like to visit, if it’s possible.”
“I’ll take you!” Ty Lee said. “When we have a break from school and classes and all.”
“So you’ll go with her?” Prince Zuko said. Ty Lee huffed.
“I don’t really have much of a choice, do I? Besides, I’m sure Azula will be happy to hear I’m pursuing my education in my downtime instead of just doing nothing. And you know I’d do anything to make her happy!” she said before cartwheeling over to where you were still situated in your bed, throwing her arms around you affectionately. “We’re going to be classmates, Ursa!”
“I look forward to it,” you said genuinely. Ty Lee tapped you on the forehead.
“Me too!” she said.
“You are?” Mai said. “I don’t remember you ever liking the school, Ty Lee.”
“I don’t,” she said, abruptly wilting. “Everyone was so mean there. But my parents will probably be happy, and at least I’ll get to spend more time with Ursa! Maybe I’ll be the only one around when she regains her memories, and I’ll get to hear her story in her own words first.”
“For the sake of the prince’s mental wellbeing, let’s hope that’s not the case,” Mai said. Prince Zuko did not even respond, too busy inspecting the glass on your bedside to rise to the barb.
“Fine, then,” he said. “Make sure she’ll have everything she needs to attend the academy.”
“Which one of us was that pleasantly worded command directed towards?” Mai said.
“Whichever one of you has the time to do it, I guess,” he said. “This is the glass that came with her?”
“Yes. On the subject, why’d you go and collect so much of it? What a waste of time that must’ve been,” Mai said.
“I don’t know,” Prince Zuko said, sweeping the glass into the small bag lying on the ground by the nightstand. “I thought it might be important in healing her or something. I mean, you know, how could the healers understand what they were pulling out of her unless they saw it?”
Mai did not seem to believe him, but to your surprise, she did not question him further on the topic, only nodding. Maybe she respected him just a bit more than you had thought, though considering your original hypothesis had not exactly been favorable for the prince, this didn’t mean much.
“Where are you taking that?” she said instead, motioning towards the bag. “To dispose of it?”
“Yeah,” Prince Zuko said. “I’ll have it taken to the incinerator.”
You felt a twinge in your stomach. “Do you have to?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he said.
“That glass is my only link to who I was before. Even if it was a bad memory, at least that memory was mine,” you explained. “I — I know it’s strange, but I feel like if you destroy it, you’ll destroy me, in some sense.”
“Ursa…” Ty Lee said, helplessly sympathetic, grasping your hands in her own. “It’s just glass. It can’t tell you anything about yourself, besides the fact that you were hurt during the fall of Ba Sing Se.”
“Your royal highness,” you beseeched Prince Zuko, who shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably at the title. “I know you have already done so much for me, so it is in bad taste for me to ask you for another favor, but please do not send that glass to be burnt away. Please save it. At least until I remember why it was there in the first place.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “It’s waste material. Nothing good will come of you keeping it. Nothing at all will.”
“I just—” you began before breaking off. “Never mind. I’m sorry for asking.”
“Zuko, maybe you should just do it,” Mai said.
“Leave it, Mai,” Ty Lee said. “He’s made up his mind. Even we can’t change it once he’s like this.”
Both of them looked at him, but he only picked up the bag and tucked it under his arm.
“I’m leaving now,” he said. “Don’t come after me.”
The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you alone in the room with Mai and Ty Lee. Both of them seemed sorry, and actually, unlike what you had expected, Mai was the first to speak up.
“I’m sorry, Ursa,” she said. “He’s always been the temperamental sort.”
“It’s okay,” you said, still unused to being referred to as Ursa, even if it was the name you had supposedly bore for your entire life. “He and Ty Lee are right, after all. It’s just glass. Trash. What use could I really derive from something like that? If that’s all that’s left of my old life, then maybe I’m better off not remembering at all.”
“You don’t really believe that,” Mai said. “But if it makes you feel better, we won’t argue, right, Ty Lee?”
“Hm? No, we won’t,” Ty Lee said.
“What’s gotten you all distracted?” Mai said. Ty Lee shook her head.
“It’s nothing. By the way, can you help me pack for the academy? I’m worried I’ll forget something,” she said.
“That, or you want me to do it all for you,” Mai said.
“I wouldn’t ask you to do that!” Ty Lee said.
“I’m just joking,” Mai said, but since her voice remained that same steady deadpan, it was hard to tell. “Yes, I’ll help you, and I’ll get things ready for Ursa, too. That way she can leave as soon as Zuko gets her admitted into the academy. Let’s be honest — the sooner she can get out of here, the better.”
“That’s true,” Ty Lee said, though when she noticed your downcast expression, she rushed to reassure you. “Don’t feel bad!”
“It’s not a problem. I understand; you’ve already wasted so much time and so many resources on taking care of me. It’s only logical that you’d want me gone,” you said.
“It’s not like that,” Mai said. “There’s just people in this palace that you’d be better off never meeting. It’ll be good if you can get out before you have that displeasure. That’s all.”
“I see,” you said. “Then thank you once again for doing your best to look out for me.”
“We’ll leave you alone for a bit,” she said. “I’m sure this has all been a lot to process, so it’ll be good for you to come to terms with it on your own time.”
“Bye, Ursa! See you soon!” Ty Lee said.
“Bye,” you said, though your farewell was lacking much of her cheer. Even if Mai was right, you didn’t really want to sit alone. You had nothing to think about or do in the solitude, so what good would you gain from it? But you could hardly beg them to stay, not when you did not know them and they did not know you, so you only watched as they left you sitting by yourself in silence.
It was only when the moon was high in the sky that your door creaked open once more. You were still awake — you had been having trouble getting to sleep, so you had tentatively begun to walk around your room, testing your legs, familiarizing yourself with the motions of walking once more. When you heard footsteps, though, you immediately grew still, hoping that the visitor would be someone you recognized and not someone with more nefarious intentions.
You had been expecting, or perhaps hoping, that it would be Mai or Ty Lee, but to your surprise, it was Prince Zuko. He was not wearing armor, and his hair was loose and messy around his face, but there was no doubt that it was him.
“How much do you really remember?” he said without formality or even a greeting. “Hey. Tell me the truth, at least.”
“What do you mean?” you said. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I mean, have you really forgotten everything?” he said.
“Yes,” you said. “There’s nothing but a vast darkness whenever I try to look back at the time before I woke up here. I don’t remember a single thing about myself. I didn’t even know my name until you said it.”
He cocked his head at you, trying to discern if you were being truthful, and eventually he must’ve come to some conclusion, because he just buried his face in his hands.
“Okay,” he said.
“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” you said.
“It depends on who you’re asking,” he said. “And if you’re telling the truth.”
“I am!” you said.
“I believe you,” he said.
“Well…” you said. “There is one thing. Sometimes, in between the darkness, I’ll see something blue. I don’t know what it might represent, but I know that it’s there. It’s the only other thing I can recall — that precise shade like jewel-paint.”
“That could be anything,” he said.
“Yes, I know that,” you said. “That’s why I wouldn’t have even mentioned it ordinarily. Maybe something important to me was that color, or maybe there was just a blue tapestry on the wall where I was injured. There’s no concrete explanation, but I wanted you to know the full truth.”
“So that’s it, then,” he said.
“I suppose it is. On another subject, do you really mean to have me attend the Royal Fire Academy for Girls?” you said.
“You’ve already been accepted,” he said. “You’ll go. It’ll be alright.”
“Mai and Ty Lee didn’t seem to think so,” you said.
“You’re stronger than both of them, by far,” he said. “If they survived, you will, too.”
“Yet I’m the one that was captured,” you reminded him. “I don’t see how that makes me the stronger between us.”
A ghost of a smile flashed over his face. “You may not believe it, but at least to me, you are.”
“Did you know me very well, then, to be saying that with such confidence?” you said. “Before you found me that day? Were — were we friends?”
You didn’t want to say anything else, for it seemed presumptuous, but friends was close enough to what you were really asking that you figured the prince would understand.
It seemed that he did, but he did not appreciate the implication, for his face closed off and his posture grew withdrawn. Turning away from you, he pursed his lips.
“No,” he said. “We weren’t anything. You didn’t know me, and I didn’t know you. I only saved you because — because you and my mother share a name. That’s all.”
“It’s strange,” you said. “That name doesn’t even feel like it’s my own. Is it the amnesia that causes such a phenomenon?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But you shouldn’t overthink it. Have fun at the Royal Fire Academy, Ursa. I’ll give you a messenger hawk; write to me frequently. And — and if you remember anything…”
“If I remember anything?” you prodded.
“Tell me first,” he said. “Not Ty Lee. Not anyone else. Me.”
#zuko x reader#zuko x y/n#zuko x you#zuko#avatar the last airbender#atla#reader insert#the glass princess#canon au#m1ckeyb3rry writes
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I'm sorry if this isn't articulated well and is a little rambly, I'm autistic, please take my words with a grain of salt. as a former member of that "whump community" (who's still into that kind of media) I know most of them are tifs, tho I was in it more when most of the popular writers on tumblr were still girls. It's also primarily autistic people from my experience.
you're definitely 100% right that they're not identifying as real men, I'm detrans and i don't even conflate the 2 in my mind which i think is a thing most RFs don't get about yaoi and this kind of thing, i didn't want to be a real guy, fictional men r like their own species lol. they're everything real men could never be. it might be hard to understand if you're less chronically online but I'm sure though not consciously, fictional men aren't even really related to real men in most of these people's minds.
With whump stuff I was always more uncomfortable or uninterested when it was a woman, maybe because women in media being hurt and weak is the norm (and it feels too real seeing a woman getting hurt since there's a closer connection), and it happening to men is an intriguing reversal. More male attracted women (im bi) are into more sensitive guys which sadly mostly exist in media, so it's just escapism.
I think that's also why they identify as trans males, they want to become closer to the fictional ideal of a male who can be soft and sensitive, or possibly being autistic and having trouble separating your special interests and escapist fantasies from every facet of your life.
(For context, this was sent in response to this post)
I think you’re onto something here. Brutality against female people is so common that we’re completely desensitized to it, and consequently, female characters being brutalized doesn’t emotionally move us. Either that, or brutality against female characters is highly sexualized, and further dehumanizes them.
On the other hand, brutality against a male character is unexpected and unusual. Therefore, we are emotionally moved by it and able to recognize it for the tragedy it is. Indeed, this might explain why the “whump community” almost exclusively romanticizes the torture and anguish of male characters, and why so many of its members identify as trans guys.
Furthermore, have you noticed that most of the tropes this community romanticizes are things that, at least in real life, female people are primarily the victims of? For example: rape, kidnapping, stalking, being drugged, being sold. It almost feels like an attempt to vicariously garner empathy for female suffering, without the element of being another cliché female victim. I feel like they impose female suffering onto male characters because they know the audience actually empathizes for males and views them as full human beings.
In the end, I think it all comes down to female people’s desire to be fully humanized and to escape gendered stereotyping. For example, you stated that many trans-identified females “want to become closer to the fictional ideal of a male who can be soft and sensitive.” But why is a soft, sensitive male character so much more charming to them than a soft, sensitive female character?
Because in their eyes, softness and sensitivity in a male character is seen as authentic; it’s seen as a consequence of his unique personality. But softness and sensitivity in a female character is seen as expected, as stereotypical—it’s seen only a consequence of her gender. This is also why characters who are fathers are adored, while characters who are mothers are overlooked or scrutinized. Because a male character taking care of children is kindhearted, nurturing, selfless, compassionate. But a female character taking care of children is just doing her job.
Basically, I think many trans-identified females would like their softness and sensitivity to be viewed as authentically as we view softness and sensitivity in males. I think many trans-identified females crave for their characteristics to be viewed as consequences of their unique personalities, rather than consequences of their gender. They crave to be seen as human first and female second—not the other way around.
#terfblr#radical feminist safe#radblr#sexism#misogny#trans logic#gender critical#radical feminism#terfsafe#gender abolition#tif#whump community#whump#answered asks
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kingdom come - iii
king König x princess & assassin reader
2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, afab reader, romance, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, kind of age gap because König has been king for a good chunk of time but it's not really much of a factor, fantasy/medieval setting
7.7k words
tw: explicit smut, animal death, mentions of child death, violence, mild body horror, ableist language (use of the word "cripple")
[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]
"I'm not going to sleep with you." -quote from woman who is about to sleep with him
There’s a portrait of a woman in your room.
Of course, König offered to have it removed or replaced, but you’ve procrastinated the decision because you never thought you would be here long enough for it to matter. Yet here you are, staring up at this lovely young woman on the wall.
You tilt your head, studying her. Her expression is neutral, almost pensive, but the artist captured a playful sparkle in her eyes, as if she’s keeping some sweet secret.
It’s the first queen, of course. König’s first wife. The one who died many years ago. It’s strange that after so long, he hasn’t gotten rid of the portrait.
What happened to you? you wonder. If someone had asked what you thought when you first arrived here, you would have said, without hesitation, that König had her killed. All your life, you had been taught that he and his father were evil, unfeeling tyrants. Now, this conviction has wavered.
You keep trying to tell yourself that it’s ridiculous, to be thinking better of his character. You only ever wanted to know him better to kill him. But the more you understand about what makes him tick, the less you think that he would do such a thing. Perhaps it’s true, then, that she died in childbirth.
Your eyes travel all over the portrait, poring over every detail of her features. Did you know him? Did you understand him? Did you love him?
Did he love you?
What did that feel like?
“Good. You haven’t left yet.” Calliope comes into the room, bustling with energy even before the sun comes up. You don’t know how she does it.
“We’re about to.”
“That’s why I’m here.” You notice she’s wearing gloves, but more importantly, she’s holding a necklace: a silvery chain with a small, intricate pendant. Vine-shaped pieces of metal hold a white, almost clear jewel in place, its various facets reflecting the candlelight in vivid colors.
“Jewelry? I’m going to be living in the woods for the next few weeks,” you tease as she lowers the necklace over your head. It does look quite durable, but you’re not exactly dressing for a costume ball here.
“Consider it a reminder that I await your safe return,” Calliope responds, securing the necklace behind your neck. “Look at it and remember me. You’re not to do anything reckless out there, am I understood?”
“Understood.” You give her a soft smile as she arranges the necklace on your collarbones. You’re grateful for the gift: though she can’t come with you, a small piece of her will always remain with you.
“Good. And don’t let that handsome husband of yours distract you and get yourself killed.”
“Calliope! What happened to ‘something’s not right with him’?”
“That doesn’t mean he isn’t handsome!”
You snort and roll your eyes, but there’s a smile on your face.
You used to think that living in König’s home already exposed you to an exhausting amount of the man. As it turns out, going on a journey with him is even worse.
There’s nobody else to talk to, nowhere to run or put distance between you two when he frustrates you. It’s not so bad for the first few days: the towns surrounding the capital are still populated enough to provide some respite from him. But once the two of you have made your way outside the bounds of civilization, it doesn’t take long for things to become stilted and awkward.
“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the last town.”
“I don’t feel talkative.”
“Really? I’m out of my mind with boredom right now. Come, you’re not in the mood to get to know each other a little?”
You give him a look. “What else is there to know? I’ve lived with you for several months.”
“But we don’t talk.” König nudges his horse to walk closer to yours. König is such a large man, his horse is massive too: comically so, next to your normal one. You let out a sigh.
“There’s nothing to know about me.”
“I doubt that. All I know about you is you’re a princess trained to be an assassin. ‘Your whole life’, according to yourself,” he says with a touch of mocking.
You purse your lips, determined not to let him get under your skin. “There’s nothing else to know.”
“Truly? Nothing about what you like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like…your favorite food. Or hobby.”
“Hobby? …I suppose I spend a lot of time at target practice.”
“That’s not a hobby.”
“It’s relaxing to hone my skills.”
He gives you an amused look. “You remind me of myself as a young man.”
Something about that irks you. “We’re nothing alike.”
“I used to have the same mindset as you, at least. I held one objective in my mind and didn’t seek purpose outside of it.”
“I…”
As much as you loathe to admit it, he’s right. You have been focused on one objective your whole life. If you probe deeper, you can’t remember having any friends outside of Calliope, nor any interests outside of the curriculum your father set for you. “It wasn’t as bleak as you seem to think it was.”
“Oh?”
“It’s not like I never had fun. I had my own way of finding it.”
“Such as?”
“Well, when my training progress stalled, I’d be sent to bed without dinner. Naturally. I eventually learned how to climb out of my window at night and go foraging in the woods for something to eat.” A smile curls your lips as you reminisce. “Eventually I even worked my way up to hunting—little things, like squirrels. I spent many a cozy little evening cooking for myself over a fire.”
You turn to find an abject look of horror on König face. “What? What’s wrong? Is there danger?” You turn around to scan your surroundings, but nothing immediately jumps out at you.
“No. No danger. I just…he sent you to bed with an empty stomach so many times you learned how to crawl out of your room and hunt squirrels to eat?”
You blink at him. “You’ve never had squirrel before?”
He looks scandalized. “Of course I have! That is not the issue with what you just said.”
You shrug. “It was important discipline. Besides, it gave me hunting experience at a young age. Squirrels are hard to skin, but I could do it in twelve seconds flat if you gave me one now.”
König looks like he wants to say more, but instead he looks up at the sky. “We should make camp soon.”
“Is it that time already?”
“It needs to be set up before it gets dark. We should also start hunting while it’s light out—not all of us can catch things in the dark, squirrel-girl.”
“Hey!”
Later, you’re both chewing on a rabbit when he speaks.
“You know, when you said you wanted to travel with me, I was quite concerned.”
“Yes, I know. You didn’t think I was capable of handling myself.”
“Not just that. I was worried you would be…unaccustomed to living rough.”
“You thought I would be a spoiled princess.”
“I wouldn’t have put it that way, but yes.”
You snort. “Well, now you know. I can handle myself in the outdoors.” You toss the rabbit bones you’ve just picked clean into a small hole dug into the dirt. When you leave, you’ll cover it with dirt to prevent predators from smelling the remains and following you on your journey.
“You want the other leg?” you ask. König seems startled, for some reason.
“You caught this one.”
“Yes, but you’re bigger than me. You need the food.” You reach up to pluck a leaf from a nearby tree and wipe your hands. Rabbits sure are greasy…
There’s a strange look in König’s eye as he regards you. You raise an eyebrow at him in response. “What?”
“…nothing.” He reaches for the rabbit while you shrug and walk off to find some water. The back of your neck prickles as you go, as if his stare is physically touching you.
You can’t stand to be near him nowadays, and you don’t know why.
Of course, you have no choice but to. There’s a tension that feels weighty, forbidden. You know he can tell, because he’s been more cautious around you, giving you as much space as he can afford to. Somehow, that irritates you even more.
Tonight, the two of you are camping in a dense, thick part of the forest not far from a road. It’s quiet, secluded: even the usual soundscape of ambient animal noises is silent.
The fire crackles and pops as you stare into the flames, as if you’ll find any answers in it. Instead, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as König returns from washing himself in a nearby stream, approaching you from behind.
“This won’t work if you’re constantly upset with me for some unknown reason.”
You don’t turn to look at him, though some invisible force compels you. “Why? Because it makes you uncomfortable?”
“I’m worried about your comfort too, you know. If you just told me what I’ve done wrong, then we can resolve it before it breeds resentment.”
“I’m just stressed.” Everything he does or says seems to irritate you nowadays, but you know in your heart of hearts that it’s not his fault. It’s your own problem—you assume camping outdoors for so long has taken its toll on your psyche.
He frowns at you, but doesn’t pry any further. You can’t help but watch as he walks around to the other side of the fire, drying his hair with his shirt. God, he is a work of art: all chiseled muscles and glowing skin. Your eyes travel down his torso, drawn by the line of his abs, down to the happy trail leading to the slightly askew waist of his trousers.
“You’re drooling, princess.”
Your eyes snap back up to his face. His eyes are dancing with mirth as he realizes he’s just caught you ogling him. You make a face at him, but it only makes him laugh. “Was not.”
“Incorrect answer. You should have attempted to strike at my ego. Now I know you were looking.”
“I think I’m just being driven mad by spending so much time alone with you in the woods.”
“I know several ways to drive you mad, sweetling.”
You slouch against a tree, your face hot—and not from the fire. In a blink, he’s standing before you, with a gleeful expression on his face like he’s just discovered a cure for dropsy.
“I know what’s making you sour as vinegar. You need to be fucked.”
You bury your face in your hands, unable to look at him. “I thought we had moved past this,” you groan, trying to ignore your rapidly quickening heartbeat.
“What, your ever-growing carnal lust for me?”
“You being a pervert.”
“I’ve never made a secret of it. You, however…” You suck in a startled breath as he leans down, trapping you against the tree just like he had the day you sparred with him. “You’ve been denying yourself.”
Your breath is ragged as he looks you in the eye, the tension between the two of you as taut as a bowstring. A familiar sense of panic rises in you, the same way you feel every time he’s close to you like this. Before, you thought it was because it felt dangerous to be so close to your enemy. Now, you’re second-guessing yourself.
“So what if I have?” you mumble.
“There’s an easy way to fix that.”
“…The last time you had me in this position, you were threatening me.”
He tilts his head slightly, a wicked gleam in his eye. “You don’t feel threatened now?”
You don’t respond immediately, and heavens forbid, he takes it as hesitancy, his demeanor instantly transforming. “One word. One word, and we will never speak of this again. But if you tell me you want this, I will fuck you senseless.”
“Yes,” you whisper, and his lips on are on yours.
It’s a strange sensation, considering half of your mouth is pressed against the cold, smooth surface of his mask. You don’t even ask him about removing it—it’s become a part of him in your mind. And maybe part of you even finds the mystery of it alluring.
You all but melt into the kiss, against him. It’s different, everything is different than that first awkward kiss from when you were younger. It makes you ache, makes you long for him in a way you’ve never wanted someone before.
You have to separate to breathe, but your reluctance to break apart from him is clear by the way you chase his face with yours. He laughs at you, but it’s not condescending at all. It settles in your chest, warm like honey.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you murmur.
“Luckily for you, you’re in good hands.” It’s the cockiness in his voice that does you in, what makes you let go and give yourself over to him.
You feel flustered, awkward, and like the least desirable creature on earth, but he looks at you like he wants to devour you. Like there’s nothing else he wants more than to have you right now.
“You can trust me,” he says softly. You try to respond, but suddenly find you’ve gone mute. All you can manage is a small nod.
To your surprise, he lowers his mouth to your neck. You gasp, a full-body shiver running through you as he kisses you there, sucking and nipping at you as he goes. “W-wait, I’m—”
“Sensitive? I can tell.” You squeak as he continues to lavish you with attention, his fingers trailing down the front of your torso to undo your pants. His movements are deliberate but slow, giving you plenty of opportunity to stop him. But of course, you don’t.
You let out a quick little breath as he finds his way to your pussy, his deep chuckle reverberating against your throat. “You’re so wet…did I do that to you, liebling?”
You’re about to respond, but instead let out a sharp gasp as he dips a finger into your pussy. “How are you ever going to take me into this tight little hole of yours…” he taunts.
Oh, God, you hadn’t even thought about that. Your mind flashes back to your wedding night, and the first time you tried to kill him. You had mostly been shocked by his audacity, but only now do you recall how big he had felt between your thighs.
He’s gentle with you at first, patiently stretching you open as you whine and beg in his arms. You just about sob when he finally pays your clit attention, circling it with his thumb, and in what seems like no time at all, you’re cumming, hard.
“That didn’t take long at all,” he says with that awful smirk of his.
“Th-that’s not fair,” you stammer. “You know…”
“I’m only teasing you.” He presses a quick kiss to your forehead as you come down, shivering with pleasure.
He makes you cum twice with just his hand. Your legs are trembling by the time the two of you properly get undressed. You’re soft and pliable, helpless putty in his hands as he lines the tip of his cock at your entrance.
“Ready, liebe?” he asks.
“That is not going to fit,” you say, eyes wide and fearful. There’s absolutely no way, you think, staring down the absurdly thick and long monster between his legs.
“Trust me, remember? We’ll take it slow,” he reassures you. You bite your lip and nod, giving him the go-ahead to sink into you.
Instantly, you realize that no matter how well König could have prepared you, there was no chance that it would have been enough to ready you for the stretch of him. You feel like you can hardly breathe as he splits you in half with his cock, your mouth dropping open in a wordless cry.
“Fuck, you are tight,” he groans, but he keeps his promise to go slow, feeding himself inch by inch inside you until he’s sitting snug up against your cervix.
The two of you stay there, suspended in a moment in time, connected to each other in the most intimate way two people can be. It makes your head spin, makes you dizzy with the sensation of his body pressed against yours.
You nod, and he starts to move.
If you had thought before that his fingers felt good inside you, then his cock is something else. The delicious stretch of him is almost electrifying, and you wonder how you went all your life without it.
All you can do is let him take control—you don’t have the presence mind to do anything but hold onto him, gasping and moaning. He’s all around you, above you, inside you, and it feels like nothing else in the world matters, or that there is a world other than König, König, König.
Your third orgasm surprises you, waves of pleasure flowing through you as you cry out, your pussy sucking him in as if it wants him to stay inside forever. That’s what seemingly pushes him over the edge too, a string of expletives bursting from him as he floods you with his cum.
You’re limp and weak, all but purring as he shifts to lay next to you and pulls you into his chest.
“You are sweet when underneath me like this,” he purrs.
You swat him in the chest, but it must feel no heavier than being hit by a branch, because he just laughs.
“There’s no reason to be shy now. I’ve seen everything at this point.” You pout at him—something that only seems to bring him delight, because he pulls you in for a kiss.
“This isn’t how I wanted to take you the first time,” he says, a hint of shame in his tone.
Your heart twinges with affection. This isn’t how you imagined your first time, either, but the idea of him wanting you so badly he thought about it beforehand, fantasized about it even…“I’ve slept in trees before, this is nothing,” you reassure him.
He shoots you a concerned look. “You continue to share alarming events from your childhood.”
You sleep together that night, curled up against him with your legs tangled with his. He falls asleep first, the slight rumble of his chest as he sleeps against your cheek. You lay awake a little while longer, watching him, breathing him in. Now, you have no choice but to be confronted with the truth that you’ve been refusing to acknowledge this whole time.
You don’t hate him anymore. You don’t even dislike him now. And you certainly don’t want to kill him.
On one hand, things are easier. Crossing the line feels more like having torn down a wall, with no more need for pretense. On the other, König is somehow even more insufferable than before. Or perhaps insatiable is a better word for it. You go from having daily sexual tension with him to daily sex, period.
It’s like the floodgates have opened. He’s always loved to tease you, but it gets a hundred times worse now that he knows just how to make your cheeks feel warm.
“I was thinking…” he muses one night as you cuddle by the fire. “You may have to start riding on my horse.”
“Don’t I already do that?” you ask, sleepily playing with his hair.
He snorts. “Your susceptibility to my corrupting influence is truly something to marvel at.”
“You’ve been enacting psychological warfare on me for months.”
“Anyhow, as I was saying.”
“Your horse is quite large, but I don’t think it could handle me astride it as well.”
“Well. Certainly something else that’s large could handle that…”
You sigh. “Get to the point.”
“It’s becoming quite distracting, watching you moving up and down with the horse’s stride.”
“I cannot believe you. Innuendos twice in a row?”
“This is a legitimate grievance!”
“Riding on your horse would not fix the problem. Unless you plan for me to sit behind you in the saddle, which I refuse to do.”
“You’re no fun.”
You lean forward to kiss the corner of his mouth instead of responding.
Your newfound…activity, however pleasingly distracting, can’t eclipse what comes next.
The mood is somber as you arrive in the village: it’s a quiet, sleepy place, just a scattering of simple houses dotting rolling hills and one singular street lined with buildings in the center of it all.
In sharp contrast to his playful, almost jubilant mood on the road with you, König instantly snaps into his authoritative persona. It especially suits him when he puts on the hood: it makes him seem that much more intimidating and threatening. Almost inhuman.
The first order of business is to hold counsel with what passes for the leader in this tiny village: a local merchant patriarch. He’s a sturdy man in his older years, face lined with both wrinkles and scars. He must have been quite the warrior when he was young: you can tell by the way he carries himself.
He gives both of you the lay of the land, and it’s a grim predicament indeed. Herding the livestock is a job most often given to the children, as it’s a relatively safe job with less skill required than the tasks the adults take care of. That’s changed, of course, with the arrival of the beast a few weeks ago. He confirms the most gruesome details that have been brought before König by previous messengers, and it turns your stomach just to imagine it. Those poor children…
The two of you set off early the next morning, with directions from an experienced hunter who had been keeping track of the beast and reporting its movements. At first, it feels normal: just another walk in the woods with König. The solemn silence between the two of you serves as a stark reminder that this isn’t like normal—followed promptly by increasing signs of a presence in the woods. Snapped branches, giant pawprints, and worse, streaks of blood.
Then you break though into a clearing, and your blood runs cold.
The beast before you could only be described as a wolf for lack of a better descriptor. It’s monstrously large, being König’s height and half again, with all of its proportions just slightly wrong: its legs scrawny and just slightly too long for its body, the snout lean and far too sharp to fit the rest of its head. Dried old blood crusted into the fur of its muzzle and chest belies the savagery of the creature, even streaking onto the fur along its neck. And the most obvious tell-tale sign of an unnatural creature is that fur: a dark, rusty blue that shifts with impossible pinpricks of light, like the night sky is ensnared in this feral animal’s coat.
You heard its growl before you saw it. But now when it lays eyes on you and König, it opens its snout and…speaks.
“What do we have here?” The voice comes out as a broken, reedy croak, as if stretching vocal cords that haven’t been used in a long time.
Something about it raises your hackles, like your body’s responding to an ancient, ingrained fear. Fae.
“Don’t listen to anything it says.” König’s voice is suddenly soft, dangerous. “None of it is trustworthy.” Slowly, deliberately, his hand moves to his back and draws his sword.
“Ah, the boy king,” hisses the beast. “You simply couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
“You’re eating my subjects,” König responds. Your eyes flit to where his hand tightens its grip on his sword. “This is not personal.”
“But it always is, is it not?” The beast and König circle each other, like two combatants in an arena. “You are as ever driven by your past mistakes.”
“König, what is it talking about?” You feel like you’re witnessing a conversation you shouldn’t be, but you feel helpless to do anything about it. If you tried to make a move towards the beast now, it would have its jaws snapped around you in an instant.
“It’s lying, liebling. It’s what they do. It’s trying to throw you for a loop so it can catch you off guard.”
“Liebling now, is it?” The beast lets out an awful, barking laugh. “My, the two of you have come far. But not far enough, it seems.”
König gives you a quick, sidelong glance, then tilts his head back towards the beast. The message is clear. We need to distract it. I’ll keep it talking.
“From her response, it seems you’ve been keeping secrets from your lovely little bride.” The beast shakes itself, its fur puffing up to look larger and more intimidating.
“There’s nothing to keep. None of that is important.”
“I would beg to differ. And if your liebling knew what it was, she would disagree as well.”
“You know nothing about us,” König growls. Yes, you’re in a life-or-death situation right now, but the viciousness in his tone sends an excited shiver up your spine. You’re opposite König now, almost completely hidden behind the beast’s monstrous form.
“You know nothing about each other!” Before either of you can react, the beast whips around. Its glowing-white eyes are fixed on you. “Not that it matters any longer.”
You barely have time to scream before the beast is upon you.
“No!” König’s voice rings in your ears. You can feel the creature’s hot breath, its vile drool spilling onto your clothes, its teeth closing around your neck—
Time slows to a crawl, the events unfolding one after the other in sequence. The first thing you’re aware of is the beast’s roar of pain, booming deafeningly all around you. I’m inside its mouth, you think numbly. The second thing you notice is your necklace: it’s glowing red, as if the metal has become molten hot. But you don’t feel any burning sensation, just a faint tingle.
The third thing you see is König shoving himself between the two halves of the beast’s snout, physically holding it open with his body.
It’s truly an impressive sight, like watching Atlas hold up the sky. For a brief moment, all you can do is stare up at him in awe.
“What are you doing?! Get out!” he yells, and you snap back to your senses.
You roll aside out of the beast’s range, scrambling to get back on your feet. König dodges out of the way just as the jaws snap shut.
“Is that..?” the thing wheezes. You rush to help König up as it glares balefully at you. Its beady eyes focus on the pendant around your neck, narrowing in disgust.
“Calliope,” it spits. “I should have known. This bears marks of your meddling all over.”
Your blood runs cold. “What did you just say?” What does your lady in waiting have to do with this?
“You—” The beast doesn’t get a chance to finish its sentence, because König takes advantage of its consternation to stick his sword into its neck. The creature bellows in pain and lunges at König, who barely manages to dodge the strike but loses his grip on his sword in the process. The monstrous animal whips around and around, attempting to grab hold of the sword with its teeth.
“Strike, now!” König calls before promptly getting clocked in the head with the pommel of his own sword as the beast thrashes and screams.
You don’t hesitate to spring into action, unsheathing a wicked-sharp blade as long as your forearm and sprinting towards the creature. König’s left you a perfect opening: as long as the beast is trying to get ahold of the sword, its chest is wide open for attack.
You don’t waste the opportunity. With the running start, you leap forward, sinking the blade into the wolf’s chest, right where its heart lies. The long, keening wail that the beast lets out is confirmation that your blade has struck true.
You have to throw yourself into a roll to get out of the way before the massive body crashes down on top of you. It lies on the ground, its heaving breaths growing shallower by the moment, its wounds staining the ground with a faintly shimmering golden ichor. So the fae do have golden blood, just like the old legends said, you think, watching the macabre scene with stunned terror.
“Brought low by two fae-touched mortals with barely a fight…” the beast huffs. It sounds weary and resigned to its fate, strange for a creature that had seemed so deadly and menacing just moments before. “Fate is cruel.”
“Fae-touched…what do you mean?” you ask, eyes widening. “Wait! What do you mean by that?!”
The beast doesn’t respond, its chest now hardly moving with its breaths. It’s not long for the world, now.
Behind the hulking, dying animal, you spot König staggering into a standing position. “König!” You gather yourself and rush towards him.
He’s visibly unstable on his feet, swaying slightly and looking dazed. The sword must have hit him hard, because his hood has been partially torn away. Despite everything, though, you can’t see any visible blood or injuries from this angle. Until he turns.
A bloodcurdling scream tears its way out of your throat. König cringes slightly at the sound, but you can’t help yourself. The sight is terrifying.
The skin above one half of his mouth is simply gone. He has no lip, not even any flesh up to his nose. His upper teeth and gums on one half of his mouth are just exposed, giving him a grim, unnatural appearance. He looks like Death itself, resembling the skeletal depictions in the manuscripts.
You should be afraid—scratch that, you are afraid. But you realize quickly your fear is not of him, but for him.
“Did it do this to you?!” you say, panicking. You dash forward and grab ahold of his face, turning it so you can examine the injury more closely. The act seems to startle König, who simply looks down at you in confusion.
“What are we going to do? There’s no way this village has a healer who could dress this wound…” you fret. An injury on this level is almost certainly a death sentence if he doesn’t receive adequate attention immediately, and he certainly won’t last the night if you’re forced to travel by horseback again—
“Schatzi…” König grabs your hands with his and removes them from his face. “I’m fine.”
You stare at him in shock for a moment. “You—how can—you—”
He heaves a heavy sigh, as if a massive burden has been placed on his shoulders. “I’m alright. The wound is…not new.”
“How can it not be new.”
König screws his eyes shut for a moment as if trying to gather his composure. “It’s been this way since I was young. Look,” he says, touching the area with a finger. “There’s no blood.”
On closer inspection, you realize he’s right: not only is there no blood, but the skin around his mouth and nose appear to be completely healed. And not even as if it were a true wound: there’s no scarring, no uneven flesh. The skin and muscle are simply…missing.
“What…how…” You’re at a total loss for words. Since he was young? What happened? How had he survived such an injury as a child? You have a million questions, but you find yourself unable to ask any of them.
You watch him, stunned, as he walks past you towards the beast’s body. It lays completely still now, all semblance of life having fled from the corpse. With one hand on the grip and one foot braced against the beast’s body, he wrenches his sword free, then bends to pull your knife out.
“I know you must have questions,” he says, wiping the blood off of both weapons onto the wolf’s fur with a grimace, “but I can’t answer them here. Please, if I promise to explain, will you…will you wait until we’ve left the village?” He turns to look at you beseechingly.
“I…” Now that the adrenaline and initial panic is beginning to fade, your whole body feels heavy and exhausted. You don’t have the energy to be angry, or afraid, or demand an explanation now. You have no choice but to agree, nodding quietly. König seems relieved at your calm response.
“So that’s why you always wear a mask or a hood,” you say numbly as you watch him take the ruined hood off, shaking his head to get the hair out of his face. He gives you a sad, regretful look.
“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”
“Did you mean for me to find out at all?”
“I never meant for anyone to find out.”
The villagers throw a celebration. A modest one, to be sure, but the relief on the peoples’ faces is enough of a reward for you. You can tell König is glad to see it as well—though every time you look at his face, hidden once more behind his mask, you feel a twinge in your heart as you remember what lies underneath it.
You can’t find it in yourself to enjoy the celebrations, even as excited children and grateful parents swarm you to give their thanks. You give them all a smile and a kind word, but that’s all you can manage. Dread and curiosity mix to form a terrible feeling in your gut.
The days between your defeat of the beast and your departure go by in a blur. You’re grateful for the rest, but you can’t stop thinking, worrying, about König’s condition. You manage to stop being petrified that he’s going to drop dead of infection at any moment, but you can’t look at him anymore without thinking about it. About the secret that he’s kept from you, from everyone who’s ever met him. You can’t even wrap your mind around what it all means. You have no point of reference for what could have happened to your husband’s face.
Husband. What a strange thing, to be wed to someone whose full face you had only seen a few days ago, months into your marriage. You haven’t thought of him like that at all. He’s always been König: the king, the enemy, the annoyance. And your lover, you suppose. For the first time, you start to wonder exactly what kind of man you’ve bound yourself to.
Because it’s exceedingly clear to you now. You can’t kill this man. Not just because you don’t want to anymore, but because he might be unkillable.
The village hasn’t yet vanished in the distance behind the two of you when you speak. “What the hell?”
König’s eyes slide to you, then back to the road ahead. “Language.”
You sputter in indignation. “Lang—that’s not what I want to hear!”
“Forgive me. I couldn’t resist.”
“König, this is serious! You promised an explanation.”
“I know what I promised,” he says, a slight edge creeping into his voice.
“Well?”
König takes as deep breath. Inhale, exhale.
Then he begins.
“Well. What do we have here? You’re awfully young for this, little prince.”
He’s fourteen. He’s about to make a decision that will shape the rest of his life.
He had done as the crone’s old tome instructed. Bone from an animal slain in its youth. Flowers bloomed under the cover of pitch black night. A blade whet on the summoner’s own flesh. He’s knelt under the light of the full moon, round and blindingly white.
The ethereal creature standing before him is easily twice his height, with an unearthly glow to their skin and hair and a smile that could almost be mistaken for kind and benevolent on their unnaturally beautiful face.
He’s done it. He’s summoned a fae.
With no small amount of difficulty, he rises to his feet, leaning heavily on the cane that helps him walk. The fae lets out a noise of amusement as they watch the young boy struggle.
“Usually, mortals don’t gamble away their lives until they’re older, and greed begins to dictate their actions.”
He glares at the fae but doesn’t respond.
“Come, now. Do not look at me so. Give me your name, little prince.”
“…you may call me König.”
The fae’s expression sharpens, ever so slightly. “Clever boy. ‘König’…don’t you think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself?”
“I want to make a deal.”
The fae sighs. “Straight to the point, I see. Well, I can’t fault your efficiency. Or is it desperation?” They smirk at him, their eyes taking the rest of him in. He knows he must make for a pathetic sight: a cripple with a harelip, spine curled and legs thin and spindly.
He doesn’t care. This is the last day he will ever be this pathetic.
“Let me guess. You wish to no longer be a cripple.”
“I want to be able bodied. I want to be strong enough to defeat my enemies. I want to be rid of my harelip.” Clear, concise language. He’s spoken these words to himself in the mirror countless times.
“You’ve certainly done your research. Then you know what price I will ask for such things.”
He swallows nervously. “Yes.”
“Very well then. Let us begin.”
It starts in his toes, the strange sensation that flows up through him that he will know all his days. He can feel the strength rushing into his limbs, feel his spine straightening, withered muscles coming to life.
Then comes the pain.
It’s white-hot torment, as if his body has become a living coal. He falls to the ground again, screaming and writhing as his bones crack and realign themselves. Somewhere, in the distance, he can hear the fae’s cruel laughter as they watch him suffer. For a brief moment, some primal, animal part of his brain thinks he’s going to die.
“Fret not, boy king. You won’t perish—I won’t let you until you give me what you’ve promised me,” the fae says, as if they can hear his thoughts.
He’s not sure how long he lays there on the ground, body wracked with agony. It feels like hours pass before he regains use of his limbs. But the pain does eventually fade away, leaving him dazed but still alive. Slowly, he manages to stand up again.
He stares at himself in wonder, legs and arms stretching. For the first time ever, he’s able to stand tall and straight on his own, his cane discarded to the side. And he feels strong. At last, he doesn’t feel weak for once.
“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” The fae’s face has changed: they still look the same, but there’s a beastly, ugly quality to their lovely features that chills him to the bone.
His hands fly instantly to his face. The harelip is still there, he notes with displeasure.
“You forgot something,” he says, frowning in his lopsided way.
“Oh, I didn’t.” Before König can react, the fae’s eyes hollow and grow dark, becoming two pools of endless void. Their teeth sharpen, their face grows gaunt.
“Remember what you owe, boy king,” they remind him. “On the day and the hour your first child is born, I will come to collect.”
He doesn’t even have time to scream before the fae reaches forward with black talons and tears off his mouth.
You’re rendered speechless by his story. Where do you even start?
Your first thoughts are of the way he described himself as a child. König, weak and crippled? König? You look at him now, eighteen hands high astride his horse, the picture of raw strength and dominance. You can’t imagine it at all.
Your second thought is— “You made a deal with the fae? Do you know how foolish that is? Fae never give you what you want, and the cost is always far too high!”
“Don’t lecture me,” he says tightly. “I know what I was getting myself into. I had no other choice.”
“What do you mean, no other choice? You were the king’s son—you are the king! You could have had servants carry you everywhere if need be!”
“You don’t understand what it was like,” König snarls, turning to you with fire in his eyes. “Nobody would have accepted a cripple as their king. My life would constantly have been in danger, having to rely upon others. Unable to even defend myself if an assassin set upon me in my bed.” He’s getting angrier, more worked up as he goes.
“I told you that I was once poisoned as a child with nightshade berries. Did you wonder why there was such a plant in my mother’s garden? Why the royal heir was unsupervised for so long in the first place?” König’s expression is twisted, his voice turned bitter with betrayal. “It was a plot against me by some of my father’s advisors. They conspired with my nursemaid to make it seem like an accident…they expected me to die.”
“I…I’m sorry, König. I didn’t think.”
He glances at you and takes a moment to collect himself before speaking. “I was lucky. My father sent for the best healers he could find. My mother cried at my bedside for weeks.” His brow furrows. “My lot in life could have been worse: my parents loved me, at the very least. But it made me hate myself even more—that I was such a profound disappointment.
“My mother had a difficult birth. Some whispered that it was penance for what my father did: that the spirits of those slain during his campaigns had cursed my mother’s womb. She never was able to conceive again…so all their hopes rested upon my shoulders. My crippled, useless shoulders.”
The venom in his voice when he talks about himself makes your heart ache with sympathy. You move your horse closer to his and put a hand on his arm, squeezing him in what you hope is a comforting manner. His expression softens as he looks down at you.
“It would have been easy for you to kill me if I were still like that, liebe.” You feel your face grow warm again at the term of endearment.
“It makes sense, your strength being fae-given…Calliope said there was something not right about you.”
“Calliope is a perceptive woman.”
You study his face, eyes regarding his mask in a new light. “It really doesn’t look so bad. I only reacted that way because I thought you were injured.”
He shrugs. “Never was that good-looking anyway.”
You make a face. “Are you suggesting I sleep with ugly men?”
“You’ve only slept with me.”
“I’m trying to compliment you.”
“You think I’m handsome?”
“When you’re not annoying me.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Well, now you know.”
You study him. He seems relieved to have finally gotten this off his shoulders. “Do you regret it?”
He gets a faraway look in his eyes. “…No.”
The village’s leader had advised an alternate path back home: it might take you a day or two longer, but it was less remote and lined with other villages. You arrive at the first inn just as the sun is about to duck beneath the horizon, the sky streaked with orange.
It’s a serene part of the wood, and the inn is quite quaint as well. Whoever runs it has done well for themselves, you think absentmindedly as you and König dismount and prepare to unload.
A side door swings open, and a quite frankly huge man walks out, facing away from the two of you. Your sense of scale is attuned to König now, so he’s of course not the biggest man you’ve ever seen, but he’s broad-shouldered and thick with muscle. You can’t see his face from this angle, but you can just about spot his blond hair—
“Shit. Shit.” König instantly spins around so his horse is between him and the man who’s just walked out of the building. You squint. Is he…hiding?
“What’s going on? Should I be worried?”
“No. Yes. Maybe.” Is he cringing? “Do you think it’s too late to set up camp?”
“Set up camp? When there’s a perfectly good inn right there?”
“Yes!”
“What has gotten into you? That man is quite big, but he’s not that sc—”
“I’m not scared of him, I just recognize him. And I don’t particularly feel like seeing him.”
You’re agog at the scene before you. “You’re the king.”
“Even kings have their hangups, alright?”
“I am not sleeping in the woods.”
“As your husband and supreme ruler, I demand it.”
“Come now. I know you’re tired of fucking me outside.”
That gives him serious pause, which almost makes you giggle. Ridiculous man. You could probably lead him onto an executioner’s block if you held him by the cock.
“Please,” you beg, stepping forward to hold his hand and giving him the biggest, most wide eyes you can muster. “I’m not ready to go back to sleeping on the ground yet.”
His face scrunches up in a hopelessly endearing, almost childlike way. “Fine. But you have to go in and talk to the innkeep. I’m going to stay out here.”
“I don’t know what all the fuss is, but fine. You big baby.” You hand him your horse’s reins and make your way to the front door of the inn.
You’ve barely pushed the door very far at all before you hear a friendly voice from inside. “Welcome, traveler! Come on in.”
“It’s wonderful to make your—” You stop in the doorway, frozen with shock.
“It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, your highness.” A pair of familiar sparkling eyes look back at you. “And you can tell his majesty that he can come inside, I’ve already seen him.”
König’s first wife stands before you, watching your reaction with clear amusement.
Forgive me for that smut. It's been years since I've written anything nsfw, and I wrote this at like. 5AM after a very long day because when I'm not exhausted, writing smut becomes impossible. It's quite the pickle.
Well...I did say that part 3 was going to be a doozy! I'm looking forward to all the reactions...🤭
Comments and feedback are of course always appreciated <3
@kneelingshadowsalome @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @keiva1000 @catluvwr @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @channelsoph @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @lexuria @complexivelovely
#I hope I managed to tag everyone!!!#könig#konig#könig cod#konig cod#konig x reader#König x reader#konig x you#König x you#cod#cod mw2#call of duty#mw2#fic: kingdom come
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Heyy! Since you’re taking requests, can I request a tsukishima who gets baby fever after seeing reader take care/baby sit Yamaguchi’s child, idk it sounds so sweeeeet in my head😭😭🩷 no rush though, take care!
okay, this ask is like a year old. i'm SO sorry about that. i hope you enjoy, regardless. soft kei is best kei. thank you for the wonderful request <3
wc: 1365
~~~~~~~~~~~~
opening your eyes, you see that your car has finally made it to your destination. you and your husband of about a year are visiting a good friend of both of you, yamaguchi tadashi, at his home. speaking of your husband, you turn to see him looking at you expectantly, waiting to open his door until you're fully awake.
tsukishima kei, the man of your dreams and the love of your life. the two of you had met in university and hit it off relatively quickly. he was studying history and archaeology because he had a thing for dinosaurs (he very much still has a thing for dinosaurs), and you thought he was adorable despite his initial demeanor. the serious, jerkish persona was the most evident part of him, though after you got to know him you discovered many other facets to his personality that had you falling in love. you dated for a few years, and finally married last summer at a destination wedding attended by just your parents and chosen friends.
since then, you guys have been extremely busy finalizing information with your marriage, house, and your job. kei already had his job at the sekai city museum lined up directly out of college, but you weren't as lucky. after months of job searching and apartment hunting, everything has worked out. now you have the time to see your friends on a more regular basis again.
"ready?" he asks you. you only smile and nod at him before you open your door. walking up the steps to tadashi's front door, you aren't surprised when you knock and find the door is unlocked.
"come in guys!" you hear his friendly voice from another room, further in the house.
unfortunately, yachi is working. otherwise, your close friend would have without a doubt been waiting at the door for the two of you. she had already apologized profusely to you, via both texts and calls. you promised her you understood, not that you would ever be upset with her anyways.
kicking your outdoor shoes off and replacing them with slippers, kei takes your light jacket off of your shoulders and hangs it for you. your eyes are drawn to your beautiful husband (he 'hates' when you call him that), his face solemn though you know he's excited to see his best friend again. finally, the two of you make your way towards the direction of tadashi's voice.
"long time no see!" tadashi jokes, and you smile brightly.
"it's so nice to see you tadashi" you kindly smile. in his arms sits a little baby. "who's this little angel?" you ask. you've seen pictures of the little boy, both on social media and from tadashi and hitoka themselves. he's only a few months old, but he's grown very fast. you want to scream from how cute he looks when he randomly pops up on your feed.
"this is my son, haru", he replies. at the sound of his own name, haru opens his eyes to gaze up at his dad.
"he's so cute!" you compliment, "can i hold him?". your arms already extended before he answers, and you don't miss kei's playful scoff at your eagerness.
"excited much?" he snarks. you jokingly roll your eyes at him before you again gesture to yamaguchi.
"of course! and again, hitoka's really upset she couldn't be here. yajakudo always needs her at the most random times" he apologized. he carefully hands the baby over to you, and you make sure his head is supported. he's looking up at you with the most incredulous, wide eyes that remind you of his mother.
"it's no problem at all, that girl worries too much. now go away! have some well-deserved catchup time. haru's safe with me."
again, hearing his name makes haru look up at you and smile, two little teeth poking out already. you can't stop yourself from the audible 'aww' that comes out, coaxing him to smile even bigger.
you sit yourself down with the child on the sofa and leave the guys to talk in the attached kitchen. it's close enough for them to still see you (not that tadashi doesn't trust you, it's just his dad instincts. and kei just likes looking at you), but far enough where you can't hear them in case they discuss something more private.
your heart swells at the adorable baby's sweet (mostly) gummy smile. you can't keep the grin off your face, babbling incoherent nonsense that makes haru laugh. it's the perfect positive feedback loop of happiness. you and kei haven't really talked much about children yet, since the two of you had really only just gotten settled into your lives together. you knew you wanted them eventually, though. haru seemed to be trying to push that to sooner rather than later.
from the other room, kei is trying his best to keep himself composed. he can barely focus on whatever tadashi is telling him about, eyes instead trained on you. his beautiful wife (you love when he calls you that), looking like a natural is almost too much. he hadn't considered the two of you having children just yet, (you'd only just found an apartment after all), though seeing you right now had him rethinking everything.
"you want one?" tadashi chuckles. he'd been caught.
kei lets out a signature, unconscious 'tch', but his best friend can see right through him. finally, he tears his eyes away from you to look at his friend. he certainly doesn't catch himself looking over at you every once in a while after that.
you only get up once haru has been asleep in your arms for a few minutes. carefully handing him back to tadashi, you quietly thank him and promise to visit again soon. he bids the both of you goodbye, offering kei a wink and goofy gesture. your husband rolls his eyes at this, heading over to the car where you're already waiting.
once you're both in, he doesn't start the car. very unusual for him, since tsukishima kei typically loves getting away from social events as quickly as possible. you turn to face him, trying to gauge if something's wrong. you're sure he can feel your eyes on him, even if he's blind as a bat.
he doesn't look at you, and doesn't even break from his usual monotone:
"let's have a baby"
"WHAT?"
you're suddenly woken up in the middle of the night to loud wails coming from another room.
somewhat reluctantly, you push up onto your elbows before stepping out of bed and onto the cold hardwood floor. a chill goes up your spine from the contact, but you can still hear the shrill noise from across the hall, so you put your slippers on and make your way towards the source of the noise (neglecting to notice the other half of your bed is already empty).
the light yellow room would be almost entirely dark, if not for the bright full moon shining through the window (and the moon nightlight, too). it is now peacefully quiet, with the noise of a small fan in the corner being the only sound you can register at first.
unsurprisingly, your husband is already there, holding your baby girl close to him. kei always seems to beat you to your daughter's room. he's whispering something you can't quite hear to her. even though she's mere months old and doesn't understand the meaning behind his words, she always loves to hear his voice (something the two of you have in common). her eyes beginning to close again, your heart melts at this little life the two of you have created.
looking up to kei's face, his eyes are bright despite being woken up at 2am. your husband has never been one to broadcast his positive emotions, but you know inside he's happy. your arm finds its way around his back, and his eyes switch down to you.
"was it worth it?" you ask him lightheartedly, whispering.
kei looks out the window, at the endless expanse of sky. he's held down by the warmth of his daughter and wife, his two favorite girls in the entire world. he doesn't know how he got so lucky, but in this moment there's nowhere and no one else he'd rather be.
his mouth turns upward, genuine and true.
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