#aeon week again

[aeonloves]

one more aeon week ⛱️💭

introducing.. aeon summer week 🏖️ from 18 to 24 July !!

planned with @cherrycelsius (pic made by her too)

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use #AeonSummerWeek when posting so it can be retweeted !

[ai “art” of any sort is NOT allowed]

[thedevillionaire]

Chosen

Much shorter than it has any right to be, given how long it's taken me to actually finish. Plot? Uh, no, not really. But anyhow... She's been away. He's been unwell.

---

He looks at her like she’s the most welcome hallucination he’s ever had.

Kia closes the door slowly behind her as she takes in this chaos of a makeshift apothecary, the loungeroom in an utter state of disarray and her beloved not faring much better, red-nosed and unshaven and dressed in a black silken pyjama and robe ensemble which, while inarguably stylish, was very definitely not his usual late afternoon wear.

And not at all what she had been expecting to come home to.

A miscellany of potions and concoctions and gods-know-what-elses lie scattered across the coffee table. A teacup, mostly empty. Two tissue boxes, one apparently even emptier than the teacup. Some sort of book...no, manual. Looks instructional. A wilderness of failed curatives.

Oh my god.

She walks further into the room. The air smells of menthol and embers.

“Babe, what are… Are you… What have you even been doing h…?”

You absolute beautiful total disaster.

“Trying not to�� hh-HH …let thi…this-damn-cold…” Cerberus turns from her as his sentence dissolves, the syllables collapsing against one another in a desperate rush to give way to greater need and deep breath of purpose, and he raises a finger in urgent, undeniable pause. "Huh-TSSCH-uu!" Hurriedly claiming a series of tissues in a brief, expectant hiatus, he surrenders completely and sneezes again. "Hh-AATSCHH-uu! *snff-FF!*" A quiet groan in the aftermath. He excuses himself, adds another tissue to the set, blows his nose and immolates the lot. "Pardon me." He sighs. "Trying not to let this godsdamned cold win,” he manages, with an accompanying sharp sniffle. Neither heavy congestion nor the way his voice cracks slightly lessens any of the seething distaste in his tone.

“Oh, honey.” Kia brushes some errant hair back from his face. :Bless you.: She touches a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re getting your ass kicked.”

She offers him a soft smile to hopefully lessen a little bit of truth's sting. "C'mon, shift over," she says gently as she joins her beloved on the couch, nestling up beside him, resolutely ignoring every caution he tries to give her advising against doing so. Notably half-hearted as those cautions are.

Because while it’s true that he very much doesn’t want her to catch this, he’s also well aware it’s more than likely already too late for such concerns. The entire house is probably some sort of incubation epicentre. And, sincerity of expressed warnings aside, the entire sorry vista surely constitutes warning enough. He's fairly certain he couldn't look more biohazardous if he tried.

Cerberus sighs again, sniffling again immediately afterwards, and gives his bonded a look of resignation.

Further elaboration hardly seems necessary.

But also he doesn’t press the issue because in truth the last thing he wants is to send her away. He’s not even sure he has the energy to insist on it, anyway; he’d be infuriated about this entire ridiculous circumstance if he wasn’t so damn exhausted. So, small obligatory protests done, with another damp sniffle Cerberus shifts some disarrayed blanketry out of the way and wraps an arm around Kia’s waist, drawing her close.

Her soft perfume of violet, strawberry and vanilla is lost on him anywhere outside of memory right now, but her presence is more than enough and he closes his eyes for a moment, just appreciating the simple fact of her being here beside him at last; he's missed her immensely, constantly.

“You know, you could’ve just asked me to come back, if you wanted me here,” Kia muses as she nestles further into his heat, adding, “It wouldn't have been a big deal,” without accusation. She leans her head against his shoulder and looks up at him with gentle azure gaze, her unspoken thoughts of I’d always choose you. How do you still not know that? readable despite her not voicing them.

And he does, of course, know that – in fact, it’s the very reason he wouldn’t ask. Cerberus sniffles thickly, wiping his nose. “Ah, love. I'd hardly ask you to put yourself anywhere near this—" He gestures around the room in a general presentation of contempt for the whole situation. "—vortex of infectious absurdity,” he concludes, thick congestion lacing his words. He clears his throat but it doesn’t make any notable impact against the wreckery his voice has become. "And it's about your... *SNFF!* ...your autodoby."

Kia peers at him. “My…what?”

“Your au…” Cerberus, all too aware that several critical consonants are unequivocally not working for him, rolls his eyes at himself. Honestly. Taking another fresh succession of tissues from a very rapidly depleting supply, he blows his nose forcefully but completely ineffectively.

He excuses himself once more and tries again; it goes equally badly.

Kia, baffled, raises her hands in a friendly but very clear nope sorry babe no idea expression, accompanied by a gentle little laugh that she just can’t help.

A long-suffering and immensely frustrated look comes her way, followed by a resigned, defeated sigh as her beloved entirely gives up. “Free will.”

For a moment, this makes even less sense to Kia. “Why would…” she begins, but cuts herself off in triumphant realisation. “Oh, autonomy!” She laughs. "Oh, sweetheart."

“That’s what I s… hh-hh! I...” And even this is hijacked, and the Demon king capitulates entirely, doubling over desperate into crooked elbow, “Huh-TSCHH-uu! Ah-HEHTSCHuu!” 

He takes some moments of bleary recovery, Kia's heartrate spiking alongside the :Gods, forgive me: Cerberus Mindsends her.

"Oh, bless you, babe." Kia doesn't try to fight the thrill that flashes through her and she wraps herself around her bonded to kiss him again; a kiss deeper, more needful, than is probably wise. But wisdom isn't what she's craving right now.

“You know what? You’re going to stop talking and let me make my own choices.” She brushes a stray lock of hair from his eyes, touches the softest of lingering kisses to his forehead and meets his gaze. :Talking really isn't working out for you anyway.: "And besides—" Another kiss, deeper again, and she presses her arousal against his, salacious, wanton.

:—you know we both want the same thing.:

---

[ehlnofay]

GUESS WHO GOT THE FREAKING JOB

[elixrr]

He trusts you. Over the course of your friendship, he built an unforgettable bond with you, one that was meant to last forever– and, really, it could've. It should've, he's not gullible, nor is he naive. He hardly trusts anybody, so you're a rare case— perhaps you're his final and lucky case where he can have somebody else sit with him, shoulder to shoulder, and no mask would have to be up. You're his best friend; you're his lover. You're the shoulder he can lean on, sleep on, lay on, cry on, and that's something that he hasn't had for several years.

Towards the start of your friendship, he didn't exactly see you as a friend, you were more of an acquaintance than anything. You were almost set to be treated by him the same way that he'd treat anybody else. He kept you at arms length, he kept his distance for a while.

Yet, you began to close that distance. You began to slither past his arm, growing closer to him. You were willing, and that's absolutely why you both should've been a lifetime bond.

But now you're being rushed to the emergency room— a head injury, something severe. You're unconscious, terribly injured from the fall, but you're lucky to be alive. He's lucky to have you alive, but now he waits. He waits, waits, and waits for his only trust, his only other shoulder, his only love, and he hopes that you can wake up soon.

You eventually and successfully did. You were in a coma for about a week, but you've finally opened your eyes. You're awake— you're alive! By the Archons and Aeons, that's all that matters to him.

“W– Where am I?” You mutter, eyes finally fluttering with consciousness. Typical question, probably always asked. He watches the doctors explain everything to you.

He watches your eyes as they flicker from one person to the next. One doctor, another, the last one— then to him. A smile nearly graces his face, but your eyes are taken back to begin the cycle again. That doctor to the next, then to that one doctor, then on him, and rinse and repeat. You glance at him as he stares at you, and it's as if he was just one extra person in the room, just one other doctor— out of uniform, though. As if you were saved by him, too, under his care, but your glances are as distant as they are for the other doctors.

Your gaze is unrecognizable. His is the same as ever.

“Who are... You guys?” You ask. ‘Who are you?’ is and would've been fine as long as you looked at somebody that wasn't him, but he's not gullible; he's not naive, and that's the thing. He immediately realizes that you don't recognize him.

He says your name without thinking.

“Do you...” He hesitates, but pursues. “Do you remember me?”

“No, sorry? Have we met before?” The words are fluent, so you didn't hesitate—

—so you don't remember him.

“Amnesia?” One of the doctors mutters, and that's when he realizes that it's all over for him.

He doesn't have another shoulder. He doesn't have a best friend. He doesn't have a lover.

He doesn't have you anymore.

He looks at you, and you look at him. Your eyes are finally fixed onto each other, but you're so distant, so far away from him now. You're both in the same room, but an unavoidable and terrifying distance is built between you two.

“What's your name, then?” You still ask.

The distance shortens. Are you still willing?

“You seem... really upset that I can't remember you. Maybe if you tell me your name, I can remember you?”

Are you really still willing?

He says his name.

“That's a nice name. Sorry, I can't remember, but I'll try.”

“You're willing?” He blurts.

“Of course.” You half-smile.

A sad grin grows on his face. He still loves you— he can feel it deep down inside. You don't remember him. You probably don't even remember any of those special memories you two created that had made the both of you the duo you were, but a smile still adorns his face regardless. You're alive.

And you're still willing.

And, because of that, your bond could last a lifetime.

[jymwahuwu]

-You play a stripping game with Aventurine! See how much you can win?

cw: yandere, dub-con, manipulative behavior, naive, drunk reader, reader has female reproductive system, creampie, getting stripped naked after playing games

"What? Did that customer really say that? This is so silly!" You held a wine glass with ice in one hand and giggled drunkenly. And Aventurine is sitting next to you now. He confirmed your question, causing you to snicker again. He adds the sweet golden liquid to your cup. "That's right - I always advised them not to… Who would have thought that that business would become so exaggerated?"

"Hmm, that's enough, that's enough…" You took another sip of wine, leaned on his table, turned your head, smiled, and looked at the outline of his face. It's been weeks since you talked to Aventurine like this, in his villa. But once you meet him, there is an endless stream of things to say, maybe this is the precious friendship.

"Anyway, how about playing a game when you have free time?" he suggested.

You got interested and asked him what his game was. Aventurine held up your palm and explained the rules to you several times. You nodded, but you didn't really understand. "Okay, okay, how many credits should we bet?"

"It's vulgar to talk about money all the time, my friend." He smiled and held up a finger. "How about taking off one piece of clothing after losing a round?"

"Take off… clothes?" You tilted your head… closed your eyes and shook your head. "ah?"

Aventurine said in surprise. "It's a popular game. Didn't you know?"

"I-Of course I know!!" You raised your voice, pretending you already knew everything. Thinking of the value of his outfit… "Hmph, I can take away your hundreds of thousands of outfits soon."

"1, 6, 2!"

"6, 6, 6!"

"It's time to take off your clothes." He raised his chin and reminded. You snorted, removing a jacket and throwing it on his couch.

"4, 5, 6!"

"6, 6, 6!"

"What?" You picked up the three dice, checked and struck them from different angles, but there was nothing strange about them. "Did you cheat? Why are the results always so incredible?" Aventurine chuckled and shrugged. "I told you before that I'm very lucky, don't you believe me?"

"Ah, okay…" You reluctantly stared at his exquisite attire, which he had never taken off, and then looked down at your own graphic t-shirt and shorts, which were pulled up so that the bra and the breasts wrapped inside were exposed to the air. Embarrassment tugs at your heart and you try to fight back. "Next round! I don't believe you can beat me!"

2, 1, 1.

6, 6, 6.

If question marks could pop up in reality, a thousand question marks would have popped up above your head. You stare at the results in disbelief. How could Aventurine be so lucky? You can't even take one of his watches or rings? And are you so defeated now that you have to take off either your bra or panties?

"I-I won't play anymore. Boring game!" You bluffed, asking to get your clothes back, but Aventurine raised his eyebrow. "Awwww, it seems there is a coward here…"

"Who are you calling a coward?"

"You didn't keep your bet."

You are not a coward! You took back the hand holding the clothes and tremblingly touched your underwear and bra. Which one should you take off? If you lose again, will you really be completely naked? How do you get home? In the midst of your thoughts and drunkenness, you settled on a bra, but then covered your bare breasts with your hands. "Humph, now is the beginning of my victory!"

Victory? Aventurine almost laughed out loud, holding back the ridicule rising in her throat, knowing that you might leave in a huff, and all the previous arrangements would be ineffective. You open a dice simulator from the Internet to avoid possible cheating from Aventurine.

5, 1, 3.

6, 6, 6.

…It’s really…BEYOND WEIRD. How on earth is this possible? Is Aventurine walking on some lucky path you don't know and being protected by the lucky Aeon? But anyway, now you have to take off your panties and keep your promise. Now you were completely naked, in his villa, in front of your friend.

"Hey! You... don't have to do this... " You watched as Aventurine put them all in a box and locked it up. These clothes…are no longer your property. "There's no way I'm going home naked!"

"Didn't someone just say they were going to take my clothes away? I thought you were serious?" He chuckled, pulled your arm, and guided you onto his lap. With your brain like a drunken fog and embarrassment, you knelt on the sofa in confusion, your legs spread apart, and the luxurious sofa sank. A gentle kiss. Bring some hot air. Like an electric shock. "Umm…"

"Too bad your clothes won't come back, but you can win a new set by…"

Aventurine's thumb rubbed against your hot cheek for half a minute before he reluctantly unbuttoned his pants and took out his long, swollen and erect cock, the glans teasing your slit. You whimpered, placing your hands on his chest, and the glans stretched your folds and the warm inside of your vagina. "I…"

This is really more incredible than these rounds of dice. You were bouncing on his cock, moaning and sobbing in ecstasy. His hand cupped your ass, occasionally slapping it in exchange for you squeezing his cock unconsciously, while rubbing your clit with his other hand.

As the cream spurts into your body, ecstatic bliss fills you. You tighten your limbs, your butt trembles, and you wrap your hands around his neck, gasping for air.

"You win. I'll give you a new set when you wake up, okay?"

[satori-runa]

—The star of the night

Summary: In the middle of chaos, Reca chooses you, his assistant, to replace the actual actress.

Words: 2k

Tags: Fluff, slight comedy, mr reca being mr reca

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

In your lifetime, you'd never been anywhere more glamorous than Reca's movie set. It was a polished spectacle of wealth, fame, and sheer creative ambition concentrated in a single place.

The set was pristine. Everything from the polished equipment to the crew buzzing around the latest cutting-edge technology spoke of high-budget prowess. Reca had wrangled only the crème de la crème of actors, and the script itself was a masterpiece, lauded by critics before a single frame had even been shot. Naturally, it was no surprise when the man beside you, the very architect of this grandiose vision, let out an audible groan, throwing his head into his hands. He pulled them down his face in a gesture so theatrical it almost belonged on the screen itself.

"No, no, no." He groaned, his voice laced with overdramatic despair. “Not like this. This is supposed to be art. Art!” He gestured wildly at the set. “Any three-year-old could create such a display with macaroni!"

While you found yourself captivated by the scene's intricate design—each prop in perfect position, the textures, the layout of furniture—all meticulously assembled to support the vision of an unfolding narrative, Reca saw only flaws. In his eyes, it was a desecration of the perfection he had so painstakingly envisioned.

To him, everything was wrong. The lighting was lifeless, casting shadows that fell harshly across the actors’ faces, robbing them of the soft glamour he’d imagined. The music? A hollow echo that failed to evoke a single stirring of emotion, as far from evocative as a flat note played on a broken piano. And the actress—the poor, unknowing actress who, in any other setting, would be lauded for her skill—was, to Reca, nothing short of an abomination in this moment. His eyes were fixed on her, his lips pressed into a thin line as he shook his head.

“Does she even know her lines?” He muttered, mostly to himself, though you heard every word. “It’s as if she’s performing in a high school play, not…not this.” He ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth, his presence a cyclone of perfectionism.

For the past hour, Reca had been tearing every detail apart. The set he'd once raved about was now an "ill-matched mess." The weeks you'd spent booking this elusive location, the endless calls, the backup locations you’d scouted, and the rejections you’d faced until this one finally came through. The casting? The exhausting process of reviewing tapes, organizing callbacks, going through Reca's list of notes and opinions on each actress, often just to have him change his mind the next day. And that demo track? You’d pulled every string, barely scraping by deadlines, just to make sure everything was in perfect order for him.

And here you were, watching it all unravel with each of Reca’s sighs and exasperated mutterings. As he kept pacing, criticizing the lighting again and muttering that the entire production was in danger of "crumbling into mediocrity," you couldn’t help but let out a silent prayer. An aeon, a muse, a miracle—someone save me, you thought, raising your hands briefly to the heavens in a quiet display of surrender.

Because if Reca’s mood didn’t lighten, there was absolutely no way this movie was getting made today.

Just as you were silently pleading for an escape from this nightmare, Reca’s pacing came to an abrupt halt. His head snapped in your direction, and his gaze narrowed, a glint of sudden inspiration lighting up his face. You felt a jolt of dread. That look—oh, you knew it too well. It was the same look he had whenever he came up with one of his “brilliant” ideas, which, more often than not, meant you were in for another impossible task.

“You.” He said, pointing at you with a fervor that made you take a step back. “You’ll be perfect.”

You blinked, uncertain if he was joking. “Me?”

“Yes! You!” He clapped his hands together, excitement bubbling up in his eyes. “Don’t you see? You have everything this role needs. Raw energy, authenticity—a complete lack of…training! It’s fresh. It’s real!”

“Reca, I don’t think—”

“Nonsense!” He cut you off, waving your protests away. “You’re exactly what this film is missing! All this time, I was looking in the wrong places. These actresses…they’re too polished. Too practiced. They lack that something—that spark of untamed potential that you have.” He smiled, a bit maniacally, but you could tell he was deadly serious.

“But I’m just your assistant.” You stammered, feeling your face flush. “I don’t know the first thing about acting. I’d probably ruin the entire film!”

“No way.” He insisted, eyes blazing with enthusiasm as if he’d already envisioned you on the big screen. “Think about it! You’ve been here for the whole process, you know every detail. You’ve seen every scene in my head just as I see it. Who else could be better prepared?”

You opened your mouth to protest again, there was no one that had the same vision as him, but he was already motioning to the costume designer, barking orders to prepare an outfit for you. Any hint of hesitation had disappeared from his face. In his mind, you were already cast and rehearsed, the missing piece that would bring his vision to life.

The next thing you knew, you were being ushered into the dressing room, handed a costume, and given a rapid rundown of your character’s motivations—directly from Reca himself, who seemed thrilled beyond measure. Somewhere between his impassioned monologues and the mounting nervousness that took over you, you found yourself on the set, standing beneath the very lights he’d spent hours cursing.

And as the camera rolled, with Reca’s wide-eyed gaze fixed intently on you, you couldn’t shake the surreal feeling. You’d gone from assistant to lead actress in a single, unpredictable twist, and despite your inexperience, you found yourself saying the lines and stepping into the role…all under the watchful, eager eyes of a director who now thought you were the perfect star.

The set had quieted down, and the crew took a break, leaving only a few people around. Reca, still lingering near you after that intense practice, watched the others drift away before turning back to you with a small, thoughtful smile.

“Let’s run through it one more time, mon cherie.” He said, his voice softer now. “Off camera. Just us.” There was a vulnerability in his tone you hadn’t heard before—a subtle, unspoken invitation.

You nodded, though your heart was pounding again. With the equipment and the audience gone, the space between you felt strangely intimate, as if stepping outside the boundary of the roles you were supposed to be playing.

He took a steadying breath and stood before you, his gaze searching yours. “Close your eyes.” He said, his hand brushing yours. “Forget the lines, the lights. Just…feel it.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. You could feel the warmth of his presence, so close now that every brush of his hand seemed to linger, every movement deliberate. He guided you gently, his fingertips tracing the edges of your hand until your fingers were laced together, his touch grounding, even protective.

“Imagine…” he whispered, his voice soft and full of emotion, “Imagine there’s no one here but us. No cameras. No crew.”

You opened your eyes, and he was watching you, his gaze vulnerable and sincere in a way you hadn’t seen before. His expression held an emotion that was entirely unscripted—almost a question lingering in his eyes, as if he was daring you to step closer.

His hand moved to your face, fingertips lightly tracing your cheek. The way he looked at you was overwhelming, like he was seeing parts of you no one had ever seen before. It felt like he was letting you in, past the director, past the confident professional, to something real and deeply hidden.

“Just us.” He murmured, almost to himself, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. His eyes softened, and he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. For a second, it felt like he might kiss you—not as part of a scene, not as an actor in a role, but as himself.

You swallowed, your own emotions swelling, breaking past the practiced distance of assistant and director. The way he looked at you, the way his touch lingered just a moment too long, felt impossibly real. It wasn’t just acting. Not anymore.

And in that shared silence, the line between character and reality blurred completely, leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was something there that neither of you had dared to speak aloud.

Your breath caught as Reca leaned in closer, his hand cradling your face with an intensity that made the world around you disappear. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat that stretched on, filled with a tension so thick it felt like the air had turned electric. His thumb brushed gently across your cheek, and you felt your heart pounding, anticipation building with each passing second.

You closed your eyes, half-expecting, half-hoping for the kiss that seemed to hover right on the edge of happening. The moment felt impossibly fragile, a secret shared only between the two of you. And just as you felt him draw in that final breath…

He pulled back, a sudden spark lighting up his eyes, and he spun around, letting out a shout that shattered the delicate silence. “Yes! That’s it! THAT expression—exactly what we need!”

You blinked, still reeling, as he practically leapt away from you, his energy blazing. “Everyone!” He called out, his voice filled with exhilaration. “Get ready to film! Now, now, now! We have to capture this—she’s got the emotion perfect, it’s exactly what I’ve been looking for!”

The crew scrambled into action, quickly setting up cameras and adjusting lights as you stood there, frozen and feeling a little…lost. You watched him pace excitedly, giving orders and pointing out positions, his focus now on preparing the scene. Meanwhile, you felt your cheeks flush with the sudden realization that the almost-kiss hadn’t been what you thought at all.

You felt the warmth creeping up your cheeks, your heart still racing from the almost-kiss that had left you somewhere between flustered and bewildered. As the crew finished setting up, you broke into a grin, chuckling softly at the absurdity of it all. Reca had played you perfectly, swept you into the scene so thoroughly that, for a moment, you’d forgotten where the acting stopped and the real feelings began. You couldn’t help but shake your head, laughing at yourself.

Reca, seeing your smile, grinned back, clearly thrilled that he’d managed to get such an authentic reaction. “That’s the spirit!” he cheered, clapping his hands together in delight. “I knew you had it in you!”

“You know, Reca.” You said, trying to keep the teasing note in your voice light as you crossed your arms, “you played me well. Got me all caught up in the moment. Almost too well, actually.”

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Only did what any good director would do.” He replied, a playful edge in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a spark of confidence as you leaned in just a little. “Well, maybe we should rehearse some more roles in private sometime.” You suggested, your smile turning slightly coy. “You know…just to pick up where you left me hanging.”

For the briefest second, he looked taken aback, his eyes widening as if surprised by your boldness. But then, that familiar grin returned, his gaze lingering on you with a newfound intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Perhaps we will.” he said, his voice a touch lower, his gaze still locked on you. “Only if you think you can handle a bit more of my…methods.”

Your smile deepened, and you felt a thrill run through you. Maybe, just maybe, the line between acting and reality was thinner than you’d thought. And if Reca wanted to blur it a little more…well, you couldn’t say you’d mind.

[selfproclaimedloveologist]

It was that time of the year it seemed. Dan Heng hadn't been a sociable person by nature, but he would never go as far as to lock himself in his room for a month, even refusing basic essentials like food and water from the express. Right?

Every time this had happened, it had seemed to take you by surprise. When you had gone to knock on his door to check on him, he had gruffly declined your invitations of conversations. At some points you would get so concerned that you would ask Himeko and Welt of they knew why this happened. Himeko would just laugh and welt would dismiss it. Pain in the ass.

But you were tired of not knowing. Of all the damn secrecy.

It had been a few weeks into his 'hibernation' as you called it, and you had confidently waltzed over to his room, banging on the door.

"Come on! Let me in! Or at least talk to me!" And although your voice was mainly flooded out by the rough banging of the door, you could still be heard fairly clearly. After a few moments of banging, your hands felt weak, and you were starting to get irritated from the lack of acknowledgment.

"Listen here if you dont open this damn door I'm going to--"

"Please.. Stop banging on the door, it's causing me a headache." Dan heng cut you threat short as his voice rang out, however it was clear he was heavily breathing. At His request, you promptly stopped banging on the door, though your irritation was still apparent. Who did he think he was? He finally spoke to you just to tell you to stop because you were worried? You were growing more furious as you balled up your fists.

"Are you serious? I've been so damn worried about you. You lock yourself in your damn room for weeks on end. How do you not expect me to start banging on your door?" You stated with a cold tone. Then you heard a breathy moan escape from the room. You stood in shock for a moment.. Moan... Locked in room.. Could he be?

"You masturbate for a whole damn month!?" You gasp at the thought of it. How the hell is that even possible? A month of non stop jacking off? He must be insane!

No sound was audible from the other side of the door until Dan heng spoke up again, "... Have you ever heard of heat?"

"Yea. Its the thing that makes you sweat."

"Not that heat. The kind where people get... You know..." His voice trailed off and the embarrassment was clear as glass.

"Oh. Your going through heat? That kind of heat... Well we're friends, right? Shouldn't friends help friends?"

And that's where it all went "up hill" (the hills not the only thing that went up, that's for sure.)

You were kissing Dan Heng ferociously like someone gone mad, trying to match his intensity, your lips were together like two ink smudges draw to close together, his hand slowly made itself a home on your waist as you straddled your legs around his lap.

"Aeon, I could just eat you whole.." He could hardly get his words out though, and had to make a effortless effort to try to pull away to speak, even though you both knew he'd come back to your lips like a starved man.

"You might not be able to eat me, but you sure can eat me out," you suggested through breathy moans, a sultry smile spreading across your face. You tightened your legs around his lap and moved to hands up to grab his face and coddle it with a intensity so that it seemed less like coddling and more like man handling.

By now the atmosphere was totally different from usual. Unlike the usual calm and soothing vibe of the room, the room was filled with unspoken desires and fantasies. Ones you have committed to fulfilling.

"Hah... Your right," his words came out in a low, dangerous whisper. It didn't take him to long to maneuver your pants off of you, leaving you in only soaked undergarments. "Your so wet..." he pointed out bluntly, using his thumb to circle your clit through your panties, making you loudly moan out in pleasure.

"Aren't you captain obvious.?" You shot out snarkily. With that, he moved your panties out of the way to directly touch your clit, moving his fingers around it and maneuvering your folds.

"If you keel talking like that, I won't do much more then this," he stated, still playing with your folds. He was incredibly skilled with his hands, having already made you moan out several times.

"Fine, I'm sorry... Please just.. Please.." Your voice was hardly audible however through the heights of pleasure you were reaching. You wondered if march could hear you.

Suddenly, he inserted a finger into your wet pussy, and due to how soaked you already were, his finger slid in like a knife through warm butter. Slowly he started to curl his finger. With his rich technique, he soon hit your G-spot, making you moan out uncontrollably in pleasure. As he slowly uncurled his finger, taking it out, there was a noticeable amount of sticky white cum on it. Underneath yourself, you could feel the sheets around your clit getting soaked with cum.

"Damn it.. I'm sorry, I didn't mean.." However your monologue was quickly cut short. "Don't stress it. I can get new bedsheets. And anyway, I should be thanking you." He said before licking the cum off his fingers, "let's do it again sometime."

[gojoidyll]

aeon & bird & arrow 2

yandere!aeon!phainon x fem!reader x yandere!mydei

Phainon knocks another arrow into his bowstring, his aim targeted towards his enemies - far and in the opposite direction of where you were. So..., why? Why is his arrow straying course?

fic masterlist

“Thank you, Anaxa!”

You smiled at your teacher who had given you a few books to borrow. The books in question were old history books about Castrum Kremnos along with a dictionary of their words and vocabulary. Ever since you met Mydei two weeks ago, you have been itching to know more about his people, especially since his kingdom will most likely be the one winning this war and controlling all of the land. And thankfully, Anaxa, a friend of yours who moved to the village recently, gave you some.

“It is no problem, but I suggest that you don’t go galivanting around with those books.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Many people dislike the Kremnoans, most even pray for their downfall. So just … be careful.”

“I will, thank you again Anaxa.”

The scholar watched you carefully before posing another question, something that has been greatly bothering him, “why did you want these books anyway?”

You paused as you looked up, your teeth biting the inside of your cheek, “well…,” you looked around the empty bakery, it was currently closed for the day since your parents had to travel to the bigger city of Okhema for some supplies to try out a new recipe for a small little festival that your village planned to throw.

“I- I met Mydei a few weeks ago.”

“…Mydei…?”

Anaxa furrowed his brow before sighing, “he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No!”

You were embarrassingly quick at defending the king as you stood up abruptly at the accusation. Anaxa sighed again before shaking his head, “I advise that you stay clear of that man from now on. He’s dangerous, blessed and cursed at the same time. You’re better off staying clear of him.”

Anaxa stood up then as he bid you farewell, “please heed my warnings.”

He left it at that as he exited the bakery and left you to your thoughts, your focus trailing down to the books on the table before shaking your head. Mydei didn’t look dangerous…, well, at first, he did due to the blood covering him, but he seemed kind, at least, he seemed kind to you.

Gathering the books into your arms, you left the bakery too and headed to a quiet place that you always escaped too for privacy.

It was a place a lttile away from the village in a field of flowers where a big tree sat. The day was both sunny, warm, and had a light breeze. So, reading outside would be the perfect activity to do until your parents got back.

And once you reached your safe space, you plopped down on a small blanket that you would leave there on multiple occasions, the tree giving you perfect shade as you set the books down next to you and grabbed the first one that was on top.

“Castrum Kremnos: Basic History”

You wondered if the title was true, cause if it was basic, then maybe it would be easier to learn!

When you cracked open the pages, you didn’t know how much time had passed while you say there reading, you were so laser focused on the words that it took someone kicking your foot to notice you had company.

“There you are.”

You looked up from your book, “oh… Laios.”

He rolled his eyes as he kicked your foot again. Ever since you could remember Laios has been chasing after you, and truthfully, you were not interested. At all. Anytime he would approach you, you were always with family or friends – Anaxa usually being the main one to scare Laios away if he got too close.

“That’s not any way to greet your future husband.”

You shook your head, “we’re not engaged Laios, or did you forget that I rejected you.”

He scowled at you, he was always quick to anger, something that you were always fearful of. People being angry, or worse, people directing that anger at you especially when you did nothing wrong. And as he was preparing to say whatever vile thing he could think up next, his eyes shifted to your lap, his eyes narrowing at the title.

“Why are you reading such trash? What? Do you want those filthy Kremnoans to win the war?”

You stood up then, the book falling from your lap, “they aren’t filthy! Don’t say such mean things about them! And why would it matter if they won the war or not, it’s not like we’re involved anyway.”

Laios reached for you, his hand grabbing a hold of your wrist as he yanked you forward, hard. You yelped loudly when a sharp pain shot through your arm.

“Listen here, bitch, I am going to be your husband soon and as my future wife you don’t need to be reading such garbage.”

You clawed at his arm with your free hand to try to make him let go, but he just gripped you harder, “let- let go! You’re hurting me!”

“Shut up!”

You closed your eyes tight when he went to raise his hand, his palm open as if he was ready to hit you, but nothing ever came as you felt his grip on your wrist disappear.

Your lips quivering, and body slightly shaking, you opened your eyes and immediately took a step back.

“M- Mydei?!”

The Kremnoan King stood before you, his hand wrapped around Laios’ throat.

“You would dare strike a defenseless woman, one who isn’t even a warrior no less.”

Laios coughed and sputtered, his hands gripping Mydei’s armored wrist, but Mydei showed no sign of letting the man go as he easily lifted him in the air, Laios’ feet kicked uselessly in the air.

“This is between me and my future wife, you Kremnoan trash.”

“Future wife?”

His gaze drifted to you, and you quickly shook his head, “we aren’t marrying each other… ever.”

Mydei looked back to Laios, “seems she disagrees,” he tightened his grip on Laios’ neck, Laios could already see dark spots clouding his vision, he was losing air fast.

“And even if she was going to be your wife, you would still hit her?”

You backed away to the tree, your back lightly hitting the bark as one of your feet accidentally broke a stray branch, Mydei’s focus slightly shifted to you. He could clearly see your fear, even in his peripheral, could sense it in the air.

He made the decision to throw Laios to the ground instead of breaking his neck.

“Run home, and never speak to her again. If you do, your head will be displayed on Castrum Kremnos’ walls.”

Laios sent another glare to both you and Mydei as he rubbed his neck, but he didn’t protest further as he scrambled to get up, the air fighting to get back into his lungs as he rushed in the direction of your village. And when he was fully out of sight, Mydei walked up to you, your breath momentarily hitching as he reached for you.

But instead of grabbing your wrist like Laios has done, he had instead held out his hand as if he was giving you a choice. As if he was saying, you can let me see your wrist, but only if you want to. Hesitating for only a moment, you laid your hand in his gloved one, his eyes finally downcast as he looked at your wrist, his fingers, ever so gently, turned your palm over as he watched a bruise slowly start to form on your skin.

“Did he hurt you anywhere else?”

You shook your head.

“Use your words.”

“N- no, he didn’t,” you answered quickly as you could feel the heat start to reach your neck as he finally looked back up to your face.

“A- anyway, Mydei. Thank you so much for your help.”

He let go of your hand, “of course, it was the … least I could do, but tell me, who exactly was he.”

You smiled sheepishly as you took a seat and patted the open spot next to you, Mydei, much to your surprise following suit as his arm gently brushed against your own as you explained who Laios was and how the man was determined to have you despite your constant disgust and refusal towards him.

“He sounds annoying.”

“He is,” you admitted truthfully.

“Why was he talking about the Kremnoans.”

You felt the tips of your ears go red as your shakily reached to the side of you and grabbed one of the books Anaxa had given you and had handed it to Mydei, “ever since meeting you, I have been bothering Anaxa to let me borrow any books he may have about Castrum Kremnos.”

“Anaxa,” Mydei questioned as he looked over the book.

You nodded, “he’s a scholar who hates the Aeons. That’s why he came to our village, far far away from any Aeons’ gaze,” you giggled at that last part as you watched Mydei crack open the book and read over a few lines.

“You were that curios about Castrum Kremnos?”

You nodded again as he closed the book and handed it back to you, his eyes and expression unreadable to you.

“Anyway, Mydei, what brings you here?”

Seemingly snapping him back into focus he reached for a small pouch he carried, opened it, and began sifting through it before pulling out two clean rags.

“For you, for … cleaning up the blood back then.”

He set the rags in your hands carefully, as if he was being cautious with what he was doing, as if he was afraid by putting something into your hand would break it. Which made since because to him, you were fragile and way too soft.

“Thank you so much, Mydei.”

He felt his chest tighten and his heart start to thump loud and hard, you called to him again all while using that sweet, soft tone. It was different from how you said his name from earlier.

He looked away from you then, his focus out on the field. His mind slowly turning into a muddled mess as thoughts of you started to cloud his head. He needed to change the subject or bid farewell, but … he didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

“You don’t have to read those books.”

You tilted your head to the side after you carefully folded the rags and sent beside you, “what do you mean?”

“You could just ask me about my home.”

“Really?!”

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t your enthusiasm, but he was still grateful for the smile on your lips.

“Ask away.”

Which was exactly how you spent the rest of the day. Your questions were answered easily and sufficiently by Mydei even until the sun had fallen, and the moon had taken its place, the full moon luckily shedding enough moonlight that you could still see at night.

“It’s getting late,” Mydei finally said as he noticed your questions start to dwindle, “you should head home.”

He stood up then and offered his hand to you once more, to which you didn’t hesitate to take this time around.

“Will I see you again?”

There was that soft, naïve voice again. It was as if you were trying to kill him.

“You will.”

“When?”

He knew he shouldn’t tell you any of his battle plans, even if you posed no threat and weren’t an enemy, “not soon, but someday.”

You smiled at that, “I understand, thank you for today, Mydei.”

He nodded as he finally let go of your hand, he didn’t realize that he was holding onto it for so long already. But before you left, you gathered up the books and the rags that were still on the blanket before looking back up at Mydei, stepping towards him, you tried to hold onto the courage that you managed to muster before standing on your tippy toes and placing a gentle kiss right below his jaw. You had meant to kiss his cheek, but he was a bit taller than you expected and it was harder to reach him because of his arms that he crossed over his chest.

“T- that was to thank you as well, for everything you did for me today.”

You didn’t let him say anything else back to you as you turned on your heel to escape from any embarrassment that was waiting for you, your face, neck, and ears basically setting themselves on fire as you heated up considerably.

Mydei could only be left wanting more as he watched you leave all while Phainon has seen enough.

It was time to resharpen his arrow.

[dustofthedailylife]

Unaffected a teaching in humbling oneself

-> Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Dr. Ratio x (gn!) Reader

Summary: Ratio is quite aware of his dashing looks and intellect. If he so wanted, he could use it to his advantage whenever he pleased. That was until he met you, who seemed to be entirely unaffected by it.

Tags: Pining, Crack, unreciprocated feelings towards Ratio, someone give him a clown nose - he's making a fool of himself, written pre-release of character, short one-shot

A/N: L+Ratio to Dr. Ratio himself.

Consider how the renowned Veritas Ratio would act if he had a crush on you.

No doubt, he was aware of his attractive appearance and masterful intellect. Why else would he only teach while wearing that accursed marble head? He's experienced it all too often that people stop paying attention to his teaching because they only get distracted by appearances. While conveying knowledge about science, it was nothing more than a nuisance to him.

He didn't want nor need hordes of students fawn over him. This still hadn't changed.

However, when you started working as his colleague at the same university one day, it was as if he had lost his composure for the first time in forever. Judging by your appearance, the Aeons themselves must have carved and sent you to smite him down. Let alone your wit and intellect. He was gone the minute he had first laid his eyes on you.

He absolutely wanted to get to know you better and make you fall for him how he fell for you when you first graced him with your presence.

There was just one problem - due to the boundaries he had set for himself, you had never seen his face. He never took the marble head off when he was at work. However, he was almost certain that, once he did so, you would fall for him the same way his students always did before he hid his face.

There was no way you wouldn't fall for a man of his caliber.

Self-assured and while putting on the most attractive smile he could muster he decided to take the mask off as casually as possible in front of you one day. He leaned against the wall beside you, eyeing you confidently. He was certain to see the stars of the galaxy sparkling back at him in your eyes. Your jaw would drop and you'd inch closer to him and then-

"You have something stuck between your teeth." You remarked unaffectedly as you motioned him to remove it.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee and sipped from it with an unwavering expression of apathy before lifting your eyebrows at him.

Why were you so unimpressed? Why didn't you fall for him yet? He was here. His handsome face exposed right in front of you in broad daylight. Were you not attracted to men, perhaps? No, that couldn't be. He happened to catch a conversation between you and another coworker about it. But why weren't you worshipping the ground he walked on yet?

"Is something the matter?" You poked quizically, noticing how his smile and his entire attitude and confidence had faltered and crumbled into dust in an instant.

"Huh? I j-just..." He stammered before hurriedly picking the piece of food out from in between his teeth.

This should've worked. His plan was flawless. Why did you not care about his dashing looks at all.

"Nothing." He said curtly, straightening himself up again to regain his composure.

"Alright." You nodded confusedly, forcing a smile and eyeing him as if he was completely insane.

The following weeks looked about the same. He tried to appear in front of you without the mask more and more often. He would try to initiate in talks and scientific discussions with you but you always seemed to end up annoyed by him. It was doing his head in what he could possibly be doing wrong - No. Surely, it wasn't his fault. It couldn't be.

That was until he overheard a conversation between you and another coworker.

"I have never seen him behave like that - let alone see him take his stone head off so often..." The coworker said puzzledly. "But I have to admit he is quite attractive."

"Pff, no way. Not with a character like that. Either way, I have no idea what his deal is." You sighed. "All I know is that he is grinding my gears with his big-headed attitude, ugh."

His heart dropped at your words. He had never heard that someone had perceived him this way.

Him? Big-headed? And you also don't find him attractive?

Maybe a change of plan was in order. Just... what was he doing wrong?

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about HSR or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[aeonloves]

keeping the aeon weeks running 💔💭

introducing.. aeon angst week from the 8th to the 14 of april !!

—

use #AeonAngstWeek when posting so it can be reblogged !

[ai “art” of any sort is NOT allowed]

•—

ao3 collection

og post

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Random Marriage HCs

characters: Yoimiya, Robin x gn!reader 

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: Had an idea during an unusually quiet bus ride

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Yoimiya

You didn’t know many other people that were as attentive towards anniversaries as Yoimiya, especially when it came towards those other than your big one. From time to time, you couldn’t help but feel as if not a single week could pass by without the girl announcing it was some kind of anniversary for the two of you. Whether it was your first date, first kiss, first time you assembled a firework all by yourself or any other occasion she seemed to hold dear.

Speaking of fireworks – no anniversary was complete without one or two fireworks shot into the night sky. There had been a time you tried convincing her to cut it back with her very public shows of appreciation – a simple hug or kiss would have been enough to get that message across to you, and wouldn’t risk receiving noise complaints from the neighbours – but as the years passed by, you slowly realized that trying to separate the anniversaries and fireworks was futile in nature. Despite, you were 90% sure they were just a welcome excuse for Yoimiya to light some in the first place.

Not that you minded all too much anymore. There were worse ways to end your day than with your own firework-show.

Suddenly, you were awake. Having been in deep sleep just the prior moment, before a pair of hands had grabbed onto your shoulders and started pulling and pushing them excitedly, your eyelids gave enough way to allow you to get a glance at your ceiling. For a brief moment at least, before a familiar face popped into your view, smiling at you with the same enthusiasm your brain had long since linked to one single word.

“Do you know what day it is today?” Her voice filled your ears.

“Give me a moment… What’s the date?” You asked in a groggy voice, your brain still reeling from its sudden departure from Dreamland as it surely would have had a difficult time recollecting your name if pressed for it.

“Today’s the Anniversary of…”, you opened your mouth again just a short moment after having finished your last sentence, not even giving Yoimiya enough time to answer your question, only for your eyes to suddenly shoot wide open as you remembered how you’ve been shopping for this day just past week, a smile to rival her’s appearing on your face, your voices to ring out almost in unison.

“Our Wedding.”

With how loud that day’s fireworks had been it was a wonder the guards didn’t come knocking at your door the next morning.

Robin

Being the artist that she was, Robin had written dozens of Songs over the years. Some of them she felt a deeper connection to than others, and yet there was one that she would always hold dearest.

A song you couldn’t find in any playlist or sold at any store, nor was it a song anyone but her had ever heard in completion, not even you. And yet, sometimes, when she was having a stressful week and trying to calm herself or those around her down, you could hear her hum little snippets of it to herself. Once or twice, you were even lucky enough to hear her quietly sing parts of the lyrics, although her voice was meant for nobody’s ears but her own. And while it was certainly possible that you were just interpreting too much into it, you could have sworn you’ve heard your own name among those lyrics at least once.

So whether it was out of embarrassment that she kept it to herself or out of a desire to retain what little of her private life was still private, whenever you heard the familiar tune, the corners of your lips would inevitably creep upwards.

There was little that had a more calming effect on you then sitting by the fireplace and hearing the crackling of the fire. Aeons knew you needed it, considering how… eventful the past few days turned out to be. Closing your eyes, as you leaned back even further in your chair, you began hearing the woman by your side start humming to herself. 

Usually, you’d have little trouble pinpointing the exact tune she was quietly singing to herself, having listened to each of her songs so often you had learned them by heart. And yet this one took a bit longer for you to recognize. It had no name, but it was still beautiful. Maybe even more so than any of her others, even if you didn’t know all of it.

But then, you recognized the part she was at. Among the bits and pieces you had gotten to hear, this one was the one that always stuck with you the most, and so, you instinctively began humming along. And although the tones coming out of your throat were far from as beautiful as hers, before long, it was the only one filling the room.

Noticing Robin had stopped humming, your own slowly trailed off as well, as you looked at her with a look of confusion and mild amusement, a comment along the lines of “was my singing that breathtaking?” almost escaping your lips although you managed to contain it just barely. For the better, as the girl was staring at you with wide eyes, her surprise all too apparent.

“You know that one?” Her voice rang out once again, sounding almost a bit embarrassed before you answered her with a big nod, smile plastered across your face as you opened your mouth.

“Only bits and pieces. I heard you hum or sing it to yourself from time to time. Did you write it yourself?”

Her cheeks now suddenly a couple of shades redder, she gave you a small nod before turning to look back at the fireplace, feeling unusually shy about it before putting on a small smile and turning back to face you.

“I’ll let you hear the full song one day.”

[lavendermin]

Your Jing Yuan breeding kink hcs saved me, thank you, thank you (I too, want to be pampered and taken care of by Xianzhou Luofu's kind, handsome and strong general without having to think about paying taxes or rent)

Jing yuan breeding kink brainworms going crazy chewing on my brain cables to make me short circuit. ANON IM GOING INSANE. Just thinking about him again made me black out as I wrote this whole thing. It was supposed to be a simple short answer but well… here we are…

—

Jing Yuan, your sweet and delightful husband who discovers his breeding kink (perhaps even a pregnancy kink, the night is young and we’re all insane here). It starts off innocently and then slowly trickles into a little obsession— sexually repressed old man who is centuries old discovers kinks! Wow!

cw | smut, minors dni, breeding kink, pregnancy, just jing yuan discovering his nasty side idk what to tell you

There are a few colleagues around who are in some stage of their pregnancy and soon headed into maternity leave. Being the general, of course he has extended his congratulations and well wishes to them before they’re off for a few months. The ladies in turn cannot help but prod if he has children of his own.

Surely, it should be well-known fact… maybe? He is quite the private man despite his high ranking position. No one aside from a very few select individuals even knew of you being his wife for the longest time. Never even knew the General was dating anyone.

So they can’t help but be curious, “General you must know what it’s like. Haven’t you children of your own by now with your spouse?”

He only smiles and chuckles fondly. The first seed of want, now firmly planted in his subconscious. Oh how the expecting mothers dote on him and say his children surely must look like the spitting image of him. All fluffy, silvery hair and kind eyes (Do they assume he’s the only one making them? What about your genes?). And he has to unfortunately let them down with amused, gentle smiles that, no, he has not had children.

Yet, some part of him whispers. A part that lays dormant for now.

The seed of desire takes root when he’s home with you and you’re fussing lightheartedly over Yanqing’s attire. Worrying over the young boy being out too late and skipping lunch. He wonders when it became so natural for you to fall into step as a mother-figure for his retainer. In little things, he notes. It’s not outright but it’s enough to make him pause and take it in. Chew it and over think it— let it linger in the back of his throat like the burn from a fine drink.

A mother… The thought is fleeting— a whisper unheard and carried with the breeze as Jing Yuan idles next to you in the gardens of his home.

Those next coming nights, for weeks on end, Jing Yuan is plagued with dreams of pressing himself deep within you. He fills your womb, whispering praise and prayer to your ear as he desperately begs you to bear his children. It’s something so carnal and raw and desperate he wakes up with a start, body drenched in a sheen of sweat and a throbbing erection. He’s panting lightly, having to go to the bathroom to sort out his little… problem in the middle of the night while you’re sound asleep, none the wiser to your husband’s evolving desires.

He doesn’t know what’s more torturous— closing his eyes and dreaming of breeding you until you’re both incoherent or looking at you while you sleep, daydreaming of your soft belly rounding out as the months ago by. Hips soft and just noticeably wider, breasts plump and full, and you’re glowing and–

Aeons, he’s hard again for the 3rd time that night.

The general, respected and composed and perfect, coming undone—untouched—at the thought of you having children with him. Part of him is a little distraught but, he thinks, he just loves his wife that much.

And he’s not wrong.

When he has you gasping and begging for release under him on the rare occasion he has time to love you how he wants, it devolves into fucking you into the mattress with a wild look in his eyes. Honeyed gaze watching you plead and fall apart under him as he now practically has you folded in half, his large hands sinking into the plush of your thighs as he presses them to your chest.

Usually he opts for pulling out and finishing on your tummy, but that night it’s like the aeons are working against him (or maybe with him? Lan the wing man, who knows). You’re begging and clawing at his back as he pounds into you approaching his climax— pleading and slurring your words of please please please Yuan inside– I want– I want it inside please please hurry h-harder please!

You’re playing with the thin strand of sanity he has left. Any semblance of decorum and gentle, vanilla husband is not worth it if it’s keeping your womb empty. But Jing Yuan will spoil his wife always and foremost. If it’s what his wife wants, he won’t hold back.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Picture credit: xbruised_peachx on Twitter

Sorry but I’m on my young recruit König & old colonel König brainrot again

CW: More polyamory headcanons with 2 Königs. Healthy relationship with old König and toxic relationship with young König, possessive behaviour, jealousy, NSFW 18+ only

The way he greets you when he comes back is so sweet you almost melt right there on the doorstep. He cups your face with both hands, gives you the most tender kiss known to mankind, and envelops you in a soul-warming hug. The love of your life sighs deeply as he holds you; his sweet, adorable wife. The Colonel may be a little tired but he's also extremely happy to be home again.

Colonel König, the older, calmer version of König is everything a woman could want. You married him early because he charmed you right off your feet.

You ride him on the first night because you simply want to show how much you've missed him. Colonel König never objects to you taking the reins every now and then. You see it from his eyes that he’s in seventh heaven whenever you bounce on his cock. He’s just happy to see you take your pleasure from him. He’s the luckiest man on earth because his needy young wife never gets enough of him – it strokes his ego that someone like you wants someone like him.

He always puts his things where they belong and takes a shower before walking into the living room and falling on the sofa with another deep sigh. He looks like he just fought an entire war by himself. When you go to make some dinner, he bounces back up and offers to help. You have to convince him that he can rest while you prepare some food. When you return with the meal, the tv is on but the Colonel is snoring softly on the couch.

He praises you and the meal, and you both talk about your days (or weeks). It calms your nerves just to talk with him. Colonel König is cultured and mature and you can talk to him about politics or the squirrels in your garden or some new documentary you've watched. He can hold any conversation.

He's illegally hot with his deep voice and loving stare, not to mention the thick muscles covered by a healthy layer of fat. You pride yourself on giving him some of that by feeding him so well. He already has a few laugh lines at the corner of his eyes – you pride yourself on giving those to him, too.

In the morning he’s much more vigorous. A good night's rest does wonders to any man, and König wakes up to cuddle you with a good, hard, thick erection. If you’re still sleepy, he will go down on you – he loves it when you’re too tired and warm and pleased to fight him.

He edges you for at least an hour: now it’s his turn to show how much he has missed you and how much he appreciates it that he has a cozy, beautiful home and a lovely, beautiful wife to return to. He’s sure he won the lottery with you, and you’re sure you’ve been blessed with the most attentive gentleman on earth. You feel like floating before you even get to the breakfast table.

Colonel König brings you small gifts and expensive flowers everytime he comes home, and takes you on a vacation to a new, exciting place every chance he can get, which is multiple times a year. You never have to ask for anything because he already got it for you.

You never have to fear you’re too much, or too moody, too this or too that: König appreciates you just the way you are and takes your fits and breakdowns and insecurities and PMS struggles like a champ. He stays calm during any storm and you can always trust him with all your troubles. You stopped apologizing for yourself an aeon ago because you know König doesn’t want to hear it: he only wants to comfort and console you when life has been hard on you. He will do anything to make it better, and if he can’t make it better, he will hold you long and fast until you smile again.

He takes such good care of you that you cried into his chest hair about it once. König only caressed you and said you deserve all of it and more. You could hear the calm, content smile on his lips while you were ugly crying about him being too good for you and spoiling you to bits.

When you asked if there’s anything you can do to return the many favors he’s given you, his face turned super smug before he suggested that you could always blow him. That’s probably the most obscene thing you've ever heard him say, which is why your face was all flushed when you travelled down to suck his already hard cock.

If only he didn’t have to repair the damage left behind by his younger version, you two would be the happiest couple this world has ever seen. Life would be peaceful and his home would stay nice and clean if the young, horny recruit had never walked into your life. He would have more energy and he could go back to work with a peaceful mind if it weren’t for this boy who has yet to learn how to be a man. A boy he couldn't deny you because you must always have everything you want; it's a law he lives by. You saved him from himself, and he will see you happy no matter what.

For some reason a troubled, violent young pup who shows a woman he loves them by bullying and fucking them to a quivering heap is what makes you happy at this point in life. Perhaps it's only a bonus that the rookie takes the blunt of your libido... otherwise he might be in trouble with his younger wife.

It’s just that the Colonel knows he can’t satisfy all your needs. You have a dark side, which he appreciates, and he thinks he’s being a good man when he allows this to happen. He's a good man, both to you and to the rookie who is the cockiest and also the most deranged, damaged little creature he has ever seen.

He tries his best to carve a man out of this poor, traumatized young bastard. He tries his best to give you the opportunity to live your life to the full by having two men who absolutely and utterly worship you... in their own ways.

Because when Young Recruit König comes home?

He’s not tired at all. He’s just excited and pent-up from being away from you for so long. He greets you by lifting you into a bone-crushing hug, sets you down when you whimper, and buries his face into your neck. You never get a kiss on the lips or a peck on the cheek: young König gives you a long, bruising love bite on your neck while you squirm and whine in his hold. He's something of a sadist when he only laughs and asks, “How has my sweet little Muschi* been...?” *Muschi means pussy in German :(

He doesn’t offer to help, he just throws his bags on the floor and asks what’s for dinner. If you have it ready, he nuzzles his face into your neck again and says how much he loves you, how perfect you are, and how he’s going to show how much he missed you after he's had a taste of your delicious cookings.

You watch how he eats almost all of it, a meal meant for an entire family. Colonel König eats like a horse, too, but he’s modest compared to our young rookie who goes to the gym in addition to his hectic job and probably burns 4000 calories per day just by daydreaming of filthy scenarios with you.

Don’t even think about riding him slowly into the sunset. Young König takes you while you’re on your knees, your ass and pussy exposed to his hungry gaze and hard cock. It borders on humiliating sometimes, the way he treats you. You grab for support from the sheets, knowing that it’s useless.

You’re in luck if you happen to cum, because the first round is just him using his little muschi, the tight, sweet hole he’s missed so much. He sounds like an animal until he cums, then kisses you all over when he’s done. You both sound like you're about to cry as he gives you hot, fond smooches where it tickles the most, getting some kind of sick satisfaction from the way you squirm and shudder in his hold again.

Round two is much more gentle and König is way more attentive, now focusing solely on you. Or at least on how you look under him, how desperate and wet your eyes get, how your tits bounce when he makes love to you. Well, you wouldn’t say that the younger version of König even knows how to make love – the old Colonel has tried to teach him, but he seems to get very pissed at anyone telling him what to do and how to do it. Plus he knows he can give you what the old man can or will not: a rough fucking that leaves you breathless, helpless and very much in love.

Because even if the first time is pure madness, the sessions that follow are made of intense adoration. König is obsessed with you and your desperate moans, your tight, wet cunt, the way he can make you cum three or four or even five times a day. He’s not the most gentle, attentive guy but he will do anything in his power to make you shiver, shake, beg, and clench. While Colonel tries to savour you nice and slow, the younger recruit lives for extremes. Sometimes it feels like he’s trying to drive you (or himself) mad.

The sheets have to be changed on the third day of his leave, and there’s not a surface in your house he hasn’t bullied you on or against. After a few days of fucking and living on takeaway food (König won’t let you from his sights for one minute), the young recruit finally calms down and agrees to watch some movies with you. You even get him to do some chores.

He won't help you in the garden like Colonel König because he's interested in the most dangerous, illegal or unnecessary jobs in the house, such as: can he fix the weather vane while balancing on a slippery roof, or would it be any fun if he did some DIY electrical work by himself. But he will help you with your computer, fix you some weed and turn a cooking session into a play fight that ends with you both on the kitchen floor and König sampling you instead of the sauce you tried to offer him.

This young rookie comes home with a wine bottle or some new sexy lingerie for you to wear (and him to tear right off). One day he comes home with a kitten, a scared little orange tabby, and asks if you like it while an evil grin spreads on his face. The poor thing tries to scratch and claw König but he has his gloves on, and when it gets released to your apartment, it runs under the sofa and won't come out, not before König comes up with a solution that involves some tuna. You're 100% sure he either stole that kitten or found it abandoned somewhere.

König leaves you in the good care of his older version, knowing that the aftercare he provided barely counts as aftercare because it’s filled with manic kisses and hugs that hardly allow you to breathe. The things he mutters in your ear when he holds you are usually about you being the best pussy he’s ever had, or about would you like it if he killed the old fart.

The cat turns out to be very vocal and cuddly but it also destroys your curtains and the Colonel's side of the bed. It grows up to be a violent bird hunting machine and an entire menace that, perhaps to no one's surprise, reminds you of your young lover.

Conversations with König mainly include him mansplaining things to you. He boasts a lot and you get the feeling he's actually very insecure under all that brash cockiness. But whenever you try to work on that with him, he soon gets annoyed, frustrated, or horny. Any attention is both poison and elixir for this man.

When you start to cry from him being so intense with you and mean to the man you love (the man who allows this young rookie to eat his food, fuck his wife and practically live in the house he bought with hard work) he says it’s only because he knows you’re not happy with him, not really.

But he can make you happy. He has money too. He can give you everything you want, too. And didn’t he just make you cum twice with his tongue and cock? Can the old man do that, eh? What else do you need? What else could you even ask for?

You have to make your calls and texts to the Colonel in secret even if your arrangement is known to all parties involved. It’s just that the young recruit becomes even more crazy and possessive in bed if he sees or hears you talking to his rival. You get the sense that he's not just crazy and self-centered: he's actually so desperately in love with you that he can't take the reminder that you're someone else's wife.

You tried to live together once, but it ended in both of your lovers in the hospital and you crying next to their beds. They made an uneasy truce after that, and agreed that they should take turns with you.

They mainly talk to each other through you nowadays. The "talking" mainly consist of threats which you never deliver.

Colonel König says he’ll snap the young prick’s neck if he ever hurts you in any way, your body or your feelings. You never say to him that the damage is already done – well, perhaps he hasn't hurt your body, which is sore from all the love, yes, but never abused. But he has hurt your feelings many times by being so callous, intimidating, and reckless.

Your nervous system is constantly on high alert with the young recruit who fantasizes very openly and cruelly about all the things he’d like to do to the Colonel (such as "if he tries to show me how to fuck this sweet Muschi again, I will fuck him to his grave with his own dick" or "I have a bullet with your lover's name on it. Have you ever held a gun, kleiner Schatz? Would you like me to show you how to load a rifle?")

When you remind him that you’re the Colonel’s wife, and won’t listen to such violent, stupid nonsense, the young recruit smiles with another devilish grin and says you needn’t worry: you wouldn’t be a widow for long. He would propose to you once the funeral is over and done with. Perhaps he’ll propose at the funeral. Would you like that…? Would it make you wet?

It's the only time you actually slapped him, and it only got him hard. When you were shocked about that too, he asked why do you think men go to the army in the first place, and urged you to slap the Colonel too and see what it does to him.

What you find a bit funny though is how this entitled young man seems to think about the Colonel everytime he’s inside you. He always brags about how he fucks you better than him, how he knows you prefer his mouth over the old man’s. He knows his cock is bigger too: he compared once when they were having a piss outside. He also knows you should make babies with him: they would be very healthy. Surely you’d choose him over the old Colonel if it came to breeding you? If you ever want children, you only need to ask...

[love-of-the-red-star]

That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

(Series)

Chapter three: A shitshow and a happy ending (alternatively, Delia goes out and buys milk)

Chapter warnings: Attempted genocide, there’s murder, and heavy implications of violent events.

You hoped your skittishness had gotten the message through. If not, the Avgin were fucked big time.

And they were.

You had made a mistake, and it cost you the life of a young boy’s mother.

It was a miscalculation on your part, because how could you not have realized that Kakavasha’s mother was alive in the date you assumed she wouldn’t be?

You shouldn’t have let her go out there to get food as you entertained her children.

It was too late to regret things, you’d have to think now.

It was rather awkward to tell stories of hope to the children who knew another one of their people had just gotten murdered, but you tried anyways, to give them hope that they can be free from living a life they didn’t deserve. Looking at their innocent little faces made you want to cry almost— you refrained from doing so.

Hundred of hours passed by, and all it’s for is a dreaded countdown to a festival and a boy’s birthday.

You had heard a discussion outside, something about the IPC again. You scowled, snorting as you knew those cowards wouldn’t do jack shit for the Avgins.

Because why would they? Your feelings towards them continued to grow sour, and you had half the mind to ask Qlipoth if you could eat some of their people— surely, by the amount of planets that corporation have consumed they wouldn’t mind losing a few of their own.

The violent thoughts were shoved to the back burner as you instead focused on the upcoming days. There’s the telltale sign of rain, the heavy smell of it lingering in the air as you knew something bad was going to happen.

“Good lord help me.”

You sighed, big and heavy as you prepared yourself for the shitshow about to unfold.

—————————

And you were right.

Thankfully you’ve managed to warn enough people that they’d run before the Katicans got to them. If you had been a human now, this experience would possibly traumatize you forever.

This event was no joke and you were close to just taking out your disguise but realized it’d be dangerous for everyone if you outed yourself. So you opted for gathering enough people in your group— some of them held into the hope of the call for help they made to the IPC, but you resorted to shouting that the IPC won’t be coming for them.

The others, those that weren’t in your group, had made it a point to scatter out into their own groups as well.

It had been particularly messy, but no one really fully objected to you once they came to the realization that there was no help coming for them at all. If you had been human, your head would have been utterly overwhelmed.

But you were an Aeon, and you were hell bent on saving at least a portion of these people if you couldn’t make do for all of them.

It would have been easier if your true physical form could interact without causing accidental harm or even death, but you have to settle for your projection, and hopefully it would be enough.

Your hope came in the form of the same rangers you’ve painstakingly summoned for weeks on end, Kakavasha being in the arms of Boothill himself. They made it just in time.

Things were taking a turn for the better.

There were casualties and quite plenty of them, but not in the numbers you remembered a lifetime ago.

There were more survivors than there were people killed, and while you knew their life wouldn’t be very easy as you wished it would be, they were alive.

Kakavasha isn’t alone anymore with his sister being alive.

It had taken some time for the news to cause an uproar; the discrimination wouldn’t be easy to erase still, but the Avgin were at least free.

Kakavasha woke up to a new dawn of the day and found a small piece of aventurine in his fingers. There were small, wooden beads strung together that accompanied it and he squinted his eyes to read what was intricately carved on them.

There, it simply said “Happy birthday”.

You were there when he had read it, and even if you wanted to stay, you had other things to do.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, and wished him a long, happy life.

“Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye?” He asked, his grip on the beads tightening as his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I….” You hesitantly began. “I have some things to do.” You said carefully. “You remember Vertin, right?”

“Of course!” He nodded rapidly. “Wait… will you.. be going out there on a journey like her too?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come with you then?”

“No, you can’t.”

“But why?”

“It’s dangerous to stick around me.” You told him. “You don’t want to be out there yet, you’re not ready.”

“…..” Kakavasha’s lips trembled. “You’ll come back, right? The katicans wouldn’t be around to kill us anymore… you’re safe like me! Y-you don’t have to leave.”

“I know, but don’t let your guard down okay?” You ruffled his hair. “We’re safe, but we never know when this’ll last.”

“So you’re really leaving?” Kakavasha sulked, his little body leaning on to you as if a plea for you to stay. “Who’s going to tell me stories? Who’s going to play games with me and lose all over again?”

You flicked him in the forehead for his last words. “Hey, just because I constantly lose to you doesn’t mean you can rub it all over me.” You teasingly scolded him, the young boy only laughed.

“Delia.” He called out to you, shifting so he could properly see you.

“Yes?”

“Sister said you were raised by the katicans.” He said. “At least she said you were, I don’t believe it though. You look like me, and you’re nice.”

“Well, don’t let looks fool you.” You pinched his cheek affectionately and he let out a little giggle. “Oh yeah, also you know that gentleman with sharp teeth who carried you yesterday?”

“Mr. Boothill? Yeah I do, he speaks funny though.” You were tempted to tell this boy the poor cyborg just worked on a censor. “He said something about a “muddle fudger who scared everyone in my group shirtless”….. I think he was trying to say mother fucke—“ you coughed loudly as you covered his mouth.

“Where did you learn that word?” You asked, Kakavasha blinked as you removed your hand from his mouth, before looking at you straight in the eye with a certainty only a child would have.

“From you.”

You sat there and stared at him awkwardly. “Oh.” You let out not so gracefully.

He must have listened whenever you cursed under your breath.

“Don’t say any of those curse words until you’re at least as old as your sister, okay? If you want to really curse out someone, then follow after Boothill’s example until you’re old enough, got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good, now go to your sister, she has something for you.” He did as you said, however, before leaving the little tent, he looked back at you.

“You’ll come back, right?”

“I will.”

And you never did.

———————————

While dipping like a cheating father on Christmas Eve was an asshole move, you knew some things were better off without you. You stirred Aventurine from a life he will never know, and for that you gave yourself a pat on the back all the while looking at the unfortunate rangers you’ve accidentally terrorized.

You’d have to apologize to them in some way, you thought to yourself as you saw the ever fading eye bags and the look of familiar terror in their eyes.

You couldn’t offer these guys therapy, but you could offer them bounty money.

You pointedly ignore the spooked look on their faces as the intercom on them kept repeating the words “bounty complete” as several notifications popped out of their phones.

Money was flooding into their account. Where that’s coming from? Best you don’t think of it much.

“I have a feeling it’s the shirtbag who sent us the SOS message that got us this.” Boothill grumbled. “Well I’ll be darned I guess. At least it was smart enough to get us to gather around that planet to stop some stupid shirt from going too far.”

“You think it could be a follower of Lan too?” One of the rangers asked.

“Nah, they’d fire a shot if they were. That one straight up went for your mental health— but I can forgive that I think, we managed to protect folks and answer their cry for help.” One of them answered.

And with that, you were satisfied, turning your gaze away from them to come back to the express.

——————————

“Bruh.” You grimaced as you were subjected to the weirdest taste of coffee you’ve ever had in your entire life. It tasted like desolation brewed into an innocent little coffee cup.

Welt paid no attention to your suffering as you entertained Himeko’s whims, choosing to read a book instead with the broadcast as white noise.

One of Himeko’s coffees did taste good, but the majority of them tasted like they came out of Satan’s liver.

“Oh, there’s something new in the map.” Himeko said all of a sudden. “An unclaimed territory…” She glanced at you, and you innocently ignored her pointed stare as the broadcast rang through the parlor.

Hearing the words of the news and looking at the new planet— specifically Sigonia IV registered in the map of the star rail, she stared at you in semi disbelief.

“So that’s where you’ve been.” She whispered, eyes wide in surprise.

“The place didn’t have an anchor, so I couldn’t take you guys for an adventure with me.” Not that it was optimal for you to be taking them there anyway, it was better for the galaxy rangers to take over that role instead of the express.

Not because you didn’t trust the two people here, but because you simply lacked manpower.

“Besides, it wasn’t even fun.” You said. “There’s no weird monsters that looked like they came out of god’s recycling bin in there. There were just… people.” You all left it at that.

It had taken you moments to speak again.

“Anyways, where to next?”

———————————

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV (HERE), Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII….

Jesus Christ this took a bit to cook. The jokes will properly return since the more serious end of the chapters is finished (there are going to be serious moments in the future).

I am on a roll and taking advantage of the creative juices before they run the fuck out.

[komelliko]

manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader (now with aventurine!)

summary: Days after the dinner with Sunday, Aventurine decides to check in on you for his own reasons. wc: 1k part 3 (nsfw) / part 4 / part 5

---

"Hey! How's it going, doll?"

"—Venny!"

Aventurine strode over, swinging a watch chain idly in his hands. Whatever hung from its ends was far too small to be a conventional pocketwatch from the way he twisted it between his fingers, but the circular case was still rather ornately decorated. Of course, it only made sense that a man like Aventurine would be dripping in gold, useful items or otherwise.

"Has Feather-head been sending you all over the place again?" Aventurine asked. "Come on, I can get being a busybody here and there, but you really overdo it sometimes."

You laugh, shrinking into yourself a little. "Oh, a job's a job..." you digress. He raises his brows, accepting your statement but not entirely convinced. The way he props his arm up on the nearby table almost makes it seem like he's hovering over you a little. ...But there's something friendly in his eyes, so you pay it no mind.

"Say, I wouldn't mind taking you out for a drink or two one of these days. If there's a single person in Penacony who needs it, it'd be you. Aeons know I've got money to spend."

You chuckle, eyes still timidly askance. "Don't trouble yourself with me, Venny. I'm sure you've got much better things to do." "I'm being' square with you, babe, believe me!" He laughs. "I wanna hear all about what that boss of yours is putting you through. You can vent to a friend, can't you, doll?" Perhaps the fact that your face drops gives a little too much away. Now you're looking away to hide the blush on your face, mortified with yourself. "He's not as bad as you'd think," you stammer through your teeth. "Honestly, he probably thinks I work too much." It's not as if it technically isn't true. Sunday's flippancy over dinner all those days ago made that much clear. "Then he's got no right to balk about you taking the day off, now does he?" You sigh, rolling your eyes. "You know what, sure," you smile. "Let me get everything put back in my office, and I'll meet you somewhere." Aventurine clicks his teeth, shooting finger guns at you before the two of you part ways.

... ... ... ...

When you usually open the door to your office, you tend to close it behind you in a very deliberate way, keeping your back pressed up against the door. It's not as if you enjoy the little cage (that's often what it feels like, with the columns of gold that run up the walls across the floor to meet in the center), but it serves its purpose. It keeps your papers in, and it keeps the world out.

Usually. "Mister Sunday?" You've never seen Sunday move as fast as he does when he stands up from opening the drawers in your desk. It's almost uncanny watching his face as he's caught off his guard for the slightest moment, almost staring in wonder at you standing there. "[Y/N]," he marvels. "What a surprise." You should be asking what he's doing there, and furthermore why he needed to be going through your desk to do it... But Sunday was your boss. All of the papers in there were going to be sent to him anyways, and that's all you have in the desk—papers, stamps, official stationery. You'd heard of some that would fill their desk drawers with more personal items, but that had never been your style. "I was just looking for you, sir," you lie, hanging up your bag on the coat rack by the door. "I was going the ask for the rest of the day off." Sunday lights up. Clearly he'd gotten through to you the other night, he reasons. You had always been oh so very shy about your affections towards him, he was sure of it—So how else would you ask for more time with him than to ask it like this? "Of course, dear," Sunday smiles. "You've worked so hard this past week, you only deserve some time to yourself. You can have the rest of the week off if you'd like that as well." Surprised, your eyes widen at the offer. "That's quite generous of you, Mr. Sunday. I don't think that's necessary." "Please, dear, anything for you. Would you like me to escort you home? So you can spend the rest of your week at ease, that is." Your eye contact with him breaks, and you can't shake the notion that you're breaking some unspoken, un-agreed-upon contract when you say: "Actually, I'm meeting with a friend, so there's no need." If you were willing to entertain such an insane notion, you would say you notice Sunday's eye twitch. He had never been the kind of man to have unusual tremors or ticks, his hands always guided smoothly along their path. His face still keeps that smile of his, however. The same as he smiles at anyone else, only... colder, somehow. "My mistake," Sunday replies, his face strained. "I'm sure you mustn't keep this... company of yours waiting any longer. You should be on your way as soon as possible." You almost reassure him that Aventurine wouldn't be bothered at all, but you hold your tongue. Sunday walks around your desk to approach you, his hands clasped behind his back. "I'll take my leave as well, then. ...Though, before you go, [Y/N], I have one request." "Yes, sir?" His face grows even more unusually cold. "Cancel all of my meetings for the rest of the day," he states plainly, almost like he's admonishing you. "We'll reschedule them the moment you clock in tomorrow." "Of course, sir." "Thank you, dear. I apologize for the hassle. It seems I have something important to attend to today," he adds, seemingly more for his own sake than your own. "We'll see each other shortly." "Of course, Mr. Sunday. See you tomorrow." Sunday closes the door behind him, leaving you alone to finish sorting your papers before your meeting with Aventurine. --- a/n: hope you guys don't mind the artistic liberties with aven's dialogue lol!!! also, I don't have any intention of making this aven x y/n x sunday, but if there's enough demand i could probably incorporate that lol feedback always appreciated!!! tag list: @j1yu425 @crepezinhos @i-am-tiredd @8x9d

[ghoulangerlee]

Dew's wearing a boot and he's so brave about it!!!

spreading the copiamountaindew agenda again w/ this one. not proofread so if you spot anything pls lemme know I'll be back after I sleep pls forgive me my brain has been fuzzy since my car accident last week!!

----

There's very little time on the road between shows for comfort, but Dew makes the most of it, sprawled out on the couch with his injured foot propped up in Mountain's lap—stabilized between several pillows, one of them being a memory foam one that someone on the crew had picked up shortly after the incident.

Mountain, to his credit, doesn't move all that much, easily keeping the ice pack held over the worst of the injury while the bus continues to putter down the road to their next destination.

Every so often, one of the girls or Rain will bring him a new ice pack when his has gone warm and melty, and Aeon's been pretty great about keeping him held to his medication schedule—nothing too heavy, just ibuprofen and Tylenol on their show days, but there's a promise of something more to help him sleep when they're not stuck on a cramped bus and they can rest in a hotel after tonight's show.

It's not exactly how he'd expected to spend a new tour but well—he's here now, and there's no take backsies.

"Phone's been buzzing," Mountain murmurs, pulling him from his light doze, his hand warm against Dew's bare shin, "Probably Copia calling to check on you again. Might wanna get that." He squeezes gently, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he speaks.

Dew snorts softly, but picks his phone up from where he'd dropped it on the table by the couch, face down and out of the way after his last dose of medication, "Definitely C," he says with a shake of his head as the screen goes dark at the tail end of a call, "Should I call him back or just—"

His phone lights up again, Copia's name splashed across the front, and with a fond shake of his head, he swipes across the screen and answers it, "You're on speaker, C," he says, mostly as a warning, he doesn't really care, neither does Copia—everyone with the exception of V's ghoulette have shared Copia's bed in some capacity, so there's no secrets between them, but he likes warning him anyway.

"Dewdrop," Copia says over a burst of static, "How are you feeling?"

Dew hums, glancing down at his foot propped up on Mountain's lap, "Like shit," he says, "But ready to be off of this bus and at the next venue at least. We have at least thirty more minutes before we're there."

"Ahhh yes the long travel," Copia says, there's something in his voice, a wistfulness that Dew can pick out that sounds almost like longing, "Tonight you'll have a break, yes? It's only a couple of days before you need to get on the road again but I made the schedule for the tour and I remember giving you at least two full nights to sleep in a bed so I expect you to do that."

Dew snorts, "Well I'm definitely not going sight seeing," he says, "Strict bed rest orders when I'm not working. According to the doctor at least."

The line goes quiet for a moment, and then, "How bad is it really?" Copia asks, his voice soft and careful.

"I'm probably doing myself no favors by being on it," Dew says finally, glancing at his foot, there had been some bruising at first, but now he knows it's gone, most of the superficial stuff cleared up by Aeon's magic—the fractured bone however, still present despite everything else. "But the boot will help, people continue to do things with fractures all the time. I'm icing it and wearing the boot. Elevating it when I'm not wearing the boot. I've got people around me taking care of me..." He trails off, bites his lower lip, "I'm probably going to talk to V about shoes with more ankle support though."

Copia huffs on the other line, "Fucking V," he mumbles, "I'm really glad you're alright Dewdrop." He says softly. "When I'd heard you were injured...I was so worried."

"Gonna take more than shitty shoes to take me out, babe," Dew teases, and then, softer, "I miss you. Not having you on stage kind of sucks."

That makes Copia laugh a little, "I'll pretend like I haven't seen photo and video evidence of you having the time of your life on stage and accept that for the romantic declaration that it is," he says teasingly.

Dew goes to open his mouth, to say something, but there's a sound in the background, something he can't quite make out, and Copia's voice coming back over the line.

"Duty calls," he says dryly, with a sigh, "I'll talk to you later, you rest some more. I love you."

Dew hums, presses his head back into his pillow and closes his eyes, feeling a rush of longing and want all of a sudden, "I love you too," he says, "Call me tonight after the show?"

Copia laughs, low and warm, "Of course I will. You and Mountain both."

The call disconnects shortly after and Mountain squeezes his shin again as the two of them settle for the rest of the ride to the venue.

-

They're about forty minutes late to arrive due to several factors that Dew's not aware of, but his foot aches when he finally fits the Velcro straps of the boot back around his leg and foot properly and he leans most of his weight on Mountain when he stands.

They don't necessarily have to get off the bus here, but he's going a bit stir crazy and needs to move around now before he bites someone's head off. Besides, he needs to talk to his guitar tech about a few things anyway, so he lets Mountain loop an arm around him as they take the steps off the bus one at a time, the bottom of the boot thunking heavily against the metal with each step he takes.

He's only a little out of breath when he gets to the bottom, taking a moment to lean against Mountain with his eyes closed to just breathe before they begin the trek towards the inside when he hears a stutter in Mountain's breathing.

"Big guy?" He asks, frowning, blinking his eyes open and looking up at the earth ghoul who's staring straight ahead with a look on his face that Dew can't quite place.

Mountain blinks several times until his eyes go a bit red rimmed, glamored face screwing up into something unreadable before he's wrapping his arm tighter around Dew and using his strength to all but haul the shorter ghoul forward, half lifting him from the ground as he does and when Dew finally looks in the direction that Mountain's looking it all falls into place because—

Oh.

Oh.

Copia's standing there.

He's wearing his stupid red tracksuit, looking rumpled and tired and like he just got off of an airplane flight, duffle bag sitting at his feet, but he's there.

Mountain's barely placed Dew firmly back on his feet before he finds himself sandwiched between ghoul and not-quite-human, wrapped in a tangle of arms as he feels Mountain curl protectively around the two of them, Copia's face nudging the underside of his jaw where he's trying his best to bury himself in his embrace.

"What are you doing here?"

Dew asks that, it's his voice that says it, something choked and not at all normal sounding as he worms his arms under Copia's jacket so he can get as close as he can without being indecent.

Copia doesn't answer at first, just breathes in a few times and then, "I needed to see that you were okay."

And oh.

Oh.

Dew squeezes him tighter, presses his face into Copia's hair, "I missed you so fucking much." He whispers.

Mountain makes a wounded noise around them, "How long are you here for?"

"A few days. Officially, I'm checking in on a few things. Making sure everything is going smoothly. Unofficially, I'm here for you two. To see you, to spend time with you." Copia finally pulls back enough so he can look at the two of them, there are tired lines around his eyes, a redness to them, "I missed you both so much, I was planning to come out later on, but..." He trails off sheepishly, "I've never been good at not being impulsive when it comes to matters of the heart."

Dew laughs then, cups his hands around Copia's cheeks and pulls him into a solid kiss, revels in the feel of his mouth for a moment—a long moment as everything melts away, just the feeling of being surrounded by the two people he loves the most.

When he pulls away, Mountain swoops in too, kisses Copia as well, shorter and less intense, and Dew watches as the two of them trade soft pecks over his shoulder for a few moments, everything almost perfect except for the pain making itself know in his ankle.

He lets it come to a natural end though, leans most of his weight off of his injured foot and onto Mountain until they pull apart, twin flushes on their cheeks, "As cute as you two are, we should probably head into the venue."

Copia leans in and kisses Dew once more, a fleeting and soft thing before he's untangling himself and picking up his duffle bag, "Let's go then," he says and then together, Copia and Mountain move to support Dew's weight more evenly.

The walk into the venue isn't too terrible between the three of them, Dew feels lighter, having Copia there, close again, he feels more complete, as cliche as it sounds, and when Copia drops him off with his guitar tech with a promise to be back once he's properly dressed, pressing a fleeting kiss to his glamored forehead—right between where his horns would be, he feels like tonight's going to be a good night, despite everything.