#and add them all and it will be wrong but glorious | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gay-dorito-dust · 7 months ago

Note

hey if ur requests are still open what do you think of an Arcane herald viktor turning reader into one of his hex angels on the rooftop thinking it will show them his vision of the ''glorious evokution'' only for it to turn reader into a empty husk and viktor realize in horror that he done goofed

Don’t we love a bit of angst here on this blog, especially when it concerns arcane Jesus.

‘Viktor, don’t.’ You pleaded, far too tired to keep up the fighting anymore, not against someone you once-no- still cared for deeply. ‘Please stop this madness.’ You add as you struggled weakly against his grasp on your chin, keeping you in place against him as he made sure to keep your head careened back, just so to keep you looking up at him as his other hand was etching closer towards your forehead.

Your heart was racing within your chest as your eyes tried to see for an opportunity out of Viktor’s grasp, only to see that your weapon -a crowbar- was too far from your reach, and even if you were able to break free form Viktor you still had to fight your way through the wave of Hex Angels to get to your weapon. All hope for you was lost in this moment and you knew that screaming for help wouldn’t help much either as you didn’t know if anyone who wasn’t turned into one of those humanoid creatures already.

‘Don’t fight against what is already predestined my dear.’ Viktor said, his distorted voice still calm and certain within his new form as it towered over you, orange eyes glaring down at you in a manner that made you feel over exposed. ‘I just wish for you to see what I see.’ He continued as his fingertips brushed against your forehead, startling you as you began to thrash in his arms once again, the urge to escape and stay who you were was strong but Viktor was stronger as he tightened his grip on you once more; a touch that once made you calm and reassured now only emphasised the hopelessness within your chest that only felt more and more inevitable than ever the more fingertips were pressed against your forehead.

‘Viktor I don’t want to go.’ You whimpered, pawing at his hand that held your chin but before you could continue to plead for your freedom, the last of Viktor’s fingers was pressed against your head and everything became blank as your eyes glazed over, mouth became agape in wordless babbling as your body underwent the same transformation as the other Hex Angels before you.

Viktor on the other hand was waiting for you within the star scattered astral plane, but when a couple of minutes have passed and you hadn’t appeared before him still he felt something was wrong, very wrong. You should’ve been here by now so that he could make you see what he could, the glorious evolution the he knew was destined to come about, hoping that you’d understand and willingly join by his side in his quest like you once did before he became…all this.

‘My dear?’ He calls aloud, his voice echoing throughout the star light space that seemed to stretch on endlessly.

‘My love? My muse?’ Viktor calls again as he felt what semblance of his heart remained tighten in pain and worry, all very human emotions that he thought he had forgone that were now rushing back when he couldn’t see you, nor feel you when he stretched his hand out in hopes of sensing you within the same plan of existence as him.

Nothing. You were nowhere to be found nor felt or even heard and that only made Viktor frown as his mind races with logical explanations as to what you were hiding from him. ‘I can’t feel you my beloved.’ He says to himself as he tries once again, this time more desperately to find you but only to have it come back the same as before, nothing. It was almost as if you didn’t want him to find you and if they were the case then why? Why hide from him? You knew he would never bring you to actual harm right?

Viktor was at a loss for words as he brought his hand back to his side. ‘I can’t feel you,’ he murmured to himself, ‘why can’t I feel you my heart?’ He furrows his brows as he continues to look for you within the astral plan, his thoughts getting worse when it looked like you never entered it in the first place. No. That couldn’t be, Viktor didn’t want to imagine it that way at all as he immediately resorted to denial that something horrible had happened to you. You were far stronger than that, Viktor knew this to be fact as the memories flooded to his head of the times where you’ve proven to be the strongest person he knew his entire life.

Look something within Viktor told him.

Look and see what has become of your beloved it said once again as Viktor looked and saw that where your beautiful face once looked up at him was now a sleek, lifeless golden accented mask with a golden webbing of a thorny crown that rested upon your head and a pair of unique golden streaks running down your mask from where your eyes would’ve been, almost like tear stains. You had become one of his hex angles, lifeless, devoid of all emotion; never to ever again utter a single word in protest or excitement for that was all stripped away from you; Just another husk of person that Viktor could use and his heart cracked in two.

You weren’t here in the astral plan either him because he might as well have killed you for there was not an ounce of you left that he could pick up on, you were gone and it was all because of him.

The machine herald cradled your skew sleek face between metallic hands, running his thumbs over where your cheeks once were as though reminiscent before leaning down to rest his head against your own and letting out a mournful sigh. ‘I’m sorry my beloved.’ His distorted voice murmured, waiting for a response that he’ll never get, which only seems to hurt him even more as was practically cradling your husk of a body to his own, in an all too human act for someone of his calibre. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He whispers as he’s brought to his knees, stilling holding on to you tightly but you didn’t rub his back nor cradled his face like you once did, you just stood there as you looked ahead as though awaiting orders.

‘This isn’t how I wanted it to be! I just wanted to show you what we could’ve become!’ The herald cried but it was useless, anyone that was left to care was too far away to hear or was gone entirely due to the raging conflict below you both. ‘I didn’t mean it, I didn’t meant it. I can fix you I promise.’ Viktor didn’t know who he was promising this to anymore, you? No you were gone. Himself? He wasn’t quite sure if he could even reverse the damage already too far gone. So who was he truly fooling other than the his other Hex angels, who only stared blankly as their herald cradled one of their own within his arms, clearly in a state of mourning and utter regret.

All Viktor could do was say he was sorry over and over again as if that was going to help undo what he had done to you. His heart breaking over and over again when you didn’t do the things you would’ve done when he was like this, serving as a grim reminder that he had taken away the one person who cared about him for who he was, disease or not; He had taken away his own god given solace and now he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions as he held your hex angel form close, wishing to hear your heart beat again.

Bonus cuz I’m feeling evil;

In another reality, one where the hexcore has destroyed and consumed everyone, Viktor -now in a somewhat human body after some trial and tribulations- still sits with your hollowed corpse, resting his head against what once was your shoulder and closes his eyes as the pain still lingered within his chest that this was all his doing.

You have been gone for so long and yet the pain he felt still felt fresh, felt new as though he had just watched you die right before his eyes and in his arms no less. Yet viktor still couldn’t believe that you were gone, no longer with him to smile nor give your heart to him again, you were gone but Viktor was still within the bargaining stage of his grief. He wanted no- he needed you back in his life and he certainly didn’t want you in his life as a hollow corpse, overlooking the ruins of Piltover and Zaun in an eternal state of mourning.

‘I’m sorry my heart, for I still cannot feel you.’ He utters against your cold shoulder, looking at you with amber eyes but sighed when all he could gauge from you was the moss and algae making your golden thrones crown their home, the algae and moss it cascaded down the back of your head and back like a billowing cape or veil he’ll never get to see you wear. ‘But I would like to stay here with you…if that’s okay?’ He asks but got no response and so Viktor sat by your corpse for days on end, wishing to repent for his actions against you, wishing for another opportunity with you in another life or plan of existence.

Viktor could only hope his other variants of himself would never dare to make the same foolish mistake he did, loosing you was the utter most worst thing Viktor ever had to endure, and to be honest he was still paying the price.

#arcane #viktor arcane #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane imagines #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #viktor x y/n #viktor x you #viktor fluff #viktor imagines #viktor imagine #viktor x reader

752 notes · View notes

walkingnearfoxes · 2 months ago

Text

Meet-and-Greet (Homelander x Reader)

You have a run-in with a disguised supe at VoughtCon. It goes better(?) than expected.

Warnings for smut, incels, and pre-season 1 Homelander.

VoughtCon.

It’s your first time going to the annual convention. When its location was announced to the public, you and your friends worked tirelessly to afford tickets and pay rent simultaneously. It wasn’t every year that Vought chose your home city as the base for its biggest convention, and you couldn’t miss the chance to see the Seven in person.

The Seven. The idea of being in the same building as the world’s most famous superheroes was unbelievable. You wouldn’t call yourself a Seven fanatic, but you certainly did well when bar trivia was on superhero lore. No one could blame you for that. Vought did an excellent job making their heroes appear larger than life, and while you weren’t sure you would ever have the confidence to speak to one of them, being in the same space as them was more than satisfactory.

The convention halls are as glorious and overwhelming as you expected them to be. Beautiful booths line the main room in aisles upon aisles. Vendors sell products ranging from Seven plushies to hero-shaped soap to personal devices that make you glad for the convention’s 18 and older age restriction. It is all devastating to your bank account, but a wonderful sight to behold. Your friends had registered you all for a few panels throughout the day, but you’re sure the booths alone would be enough to entertain you.

At some point, you and your friends accidentally separated. They were entranced by a company selling dice, and you lost them in a sea of A-Train cosplayers. It wasn’t too horrible a fate. You would see your friends regardless at the first panel in an hour, giving you plenty of time to peruse VoughtCon at your own pace. Your steps eventually land you at a booth that crafts teas personalized for each Seven member.

You pick up one of the bags of Homelander tea. Stars and stripes decorate the b; his name is written in bold red letters across the packaging. Underneath his name is the tea description - a crisp black tea with red hibiscus, vanilla, and clove.

“Would you like a sample?” The vendor, a woman dressed in a stunning Queen Maeve cosplay, walks up to you with a smile. “That’s our bestseller.”

“I can see why,” You say warmly. “It sounds delicious. Would love a sample, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course!” She beams and turns to grab a sample from behind the booth. She carefully hands a tiny cup out to you. “Should be the perfect temperature by now.”

You take a sip. Sure enough, it tastes heavenly. You detect the vanilla first, then encounter the harsher clove. The notes blend perfectly with the hibiscus. It all cultivates into a smooth, strong cup of tea. You let out a slight hum of pleasure as you smile back at the vendor. “Damn. That’s good.”

She opens her mouth to answer, but a man beside you cuts in. “I really think the vanilla was the wrong call.”

You blink and turn to face this conversation intruder. He is one of the many Homelander cosplayers you have encountered today, but one of the least impressive. The padding to the suit is obvious and uneven; his biceps look unnecessarily large while his legs have lost all muscle mass. His blonde wig looks stringy. Worst of all, he is giving the vendor a look that says he knows his opinion is correct. Maybe said arrogance would be more at home on the real hero, but on this half-assed version, it looks pathetic.

The vendor, bless her, smiles politely at him. “What would you change? We’re always open to feedback.”

“Get rid of the vanilla completely,” The man says, a sentence you never thought could be said so pompously. “It’s too soft. Add something like…cinnamon. More powerful.”

“Jesus Christ,” You mutter, earning a snort of amusement from a man beside you.

Cosplay Homelander takes this reaction as an invitation to speak to you. He turns to you, his hands on his hips in an obvious imitation of the real hero. On him, it’s more akin to a pouting child. “The strongest man on the planet needs something more interesting than vanilla.” He declares.

The vendor shoots an apologetic look towards you as other people come up to the booth. You smile and wave her off, allowing her to go and cater to more polite customers. This leaves you with Homelander Lite. You could probably walk away, but this man is just asking for a confrontation - and you’re in a good enough mood to provide.

“Did you actually try the tea?” You ask him, holding up your tiny sample cup for emphasis. “It’s really good.”

He scoffs. “I don’t have to try it to know it’s wrong. He needs something more complex.”

You tilt your head. “You speak for him?”

Another chuckle from the man behind you.

Fake Homelander sputters and then waves his hand. “Look, I know Homelander. He’s the fastest and strongest man alive. He broke the sound barrier when he was seven-”

“Six.”

Your interruption brings him to another stumble. His jaw drops as he looks at you. “E-excuse me?”

You shrug. “If you’re going based on canon, Homelander is six in Origins. Not seven. Remember the scene in the train yard?”

You can see each gear screeching to a halt in Diet Homelander’s head. Before he can muster up a retort, the man behind you makes his presence known. He stands beside you, arms folded across his chest as he stares at the younger man. “I think you should just walk away, buddy,” He tells him. “Can’t recover from that.”

Deflated Homelander looks between you and the man, his cheeks as red as his cape. With an incoherent and aggravated mumble, he storms off. You watch him trail away with a smile of satisfaction; sure, it would have been better if it hadn’t taken another man to get him to leave, but you’ll take the small victory. You turn to the more pleasant stranger. “Thanks for the backup.”

The man grins. He’s dressed in light jeans, a red shirt, and a blue cargo jacket - one of the few people here not dressed as someone else. “Not a problem. That was fun, he says, looking down at the tea still in your hand before looking back up at you. “So. Big Homelander fan, huh?”

You smile back and shrug. “I know enough not to embarrass myself at a con.”

He laughs. “Clearly. For the record, I like the tea too. I think it’s just perfect.”

You look closer at the man’s face. A baseball cap covers most of his hair, but you can still see some blond strands. Even in the hat's shadow, his eyes are a striking blue. You frown, your gaze drifting to one of the massive Homelander banners hanging from the high ceiling. The resemblance is…uncanny. When you look back at the stranger, his smile has turned downright devious. “Darn. You caught me.”

You clutch your sample cup so tightly you’re surprised it doesn’t crack under the strain. “You…no. You’re not…”

The man glances around the two of you. When he seems satisfied no one is listening or watching, he meets your gaze again - and this time, his eyes are a simmering red. You can feel the heat from where you’re standing. You don’t have time to gasp before he blinks them back to normal with an impish smile. “Yeah. I am.”

Your brain short-circuits. You want to ask questions. You want to apologize for existing in front of him. You want to flee. But all you can manage is a quiet voice that sounds nothing like your own. “You…look different without a cape.”

Homelander barks a laugh. “Oh, I think I like you.” Without looking, he takes the cup from your hands and tosses it into the nearest trash bin. “Follow me.”

It’s not a question. He immediately turns and begins walking down one of the aisles. You walk after him in a daze. He seamlessly bends through the crowd, no one wise to the fact that the leader of the Seven is brushing past their shoulders. Even without their knowledge, he is effortless in carving a path for himself through the crowd - and, by extension, you.

Homelander finally leads you to another, much quieter branch of the convention center. He guides you through one door, and then another, before you’re in a silent hallway. You realize each door has a name of one of the Seven on it. No security, but who would try to startle a supe? Homelander stops in front of the door with his name, The Homelander, written in bold red. He opens it with a quiet hum and steps inside. When you hesitate at the threshold, he turns and looks back at you. He looks confused at first, then settles on an amused smile. “Come on. I don’t bite unless you ask.”

Your breath stutters a moment, and by the quirk to his lips, you’re sure he heard it. You step inside anyway.

Homelander’s makeshift dressing room for VoughtCon is a maze of color. In one corner, a pile of gifts from fans has grown tall enough to rival your height. You spy dozens of bouquets, wrapped packages, letters, all yet to be opened or read. A vanity sits in the opposite corner with a mirror, various trunks and, of course, the suit. His classic suit is hanging on a black mannequin without a head, a startling contrast to the real man who led you here. The reds, whites, and blues are somehow twice as vibrant as they were on any of the cosplayers. As you admire it, Homelander removes his hat and tosses it onto the vanity chair. He brushes a hand through his hair before turning to face you. Without the cap, there is no doubting who he is. You’ve seen that stare on screens, banners, and countless pieces of merchandise. You never thought you’d find it staring back at you.

Homelander studies you briefly. “What’s wrong? Never been invited backstage before?”

You huff a laugh that sounds much squeakier than your usual laugh. “Uh…no. First time.”

“First time,” Homelander repeats in an amused murmur. He steps closer, and you resist the urge to move away. There’s something so contradictory in his presence. You find yourself wanting to go to him and run all at once. He seems to notice the inner conflict and shakes his head as if easing frightened prey. “Relax. Your heart’s pounding like a little rabbit.”

Right. Homelander can hear your nerves. You take a slow breath and look at the gift tower as a distraction. “That’s awfully impressive.”

Homelander laughs and turns to look at it, his hands falling to his hips. You remember the poor comparison to him the two of you had chased off outside. “Ah, the adoring fans. It’s a shame I can’t read through all of them, but…it’s nice to see.”

Something about those words seems to ring hollow, as though he doesn’t fully believe what he’s saying - like it’s something he’s rehearsed. You watch him for a moment before his gaze falls back to you. He notices your stare and lets out a huff of laughter. “What?”

“Why are you in disguise?” You ask, gesturing to his outfit. If you ignore the knowing glint in his eyes, he looks more like a soccer dad than a hero. “Do you do this a lot?”

Homelander shakes his head and tugs off the jacket. His arms are strong, but he’s leaner than you expected - especially with his suit standing like a voyeur behind him. “These conventions can get real stale after a decade or two,” He explains. He turns to place the jacket alongside his hat, carefully draping it over the head of the chair. “Sometimes it’s nice to see who your real fans are.”

“And invite them back to your dressing room?” You ask with some revived humor.

Homelander doesn’t answer immediately. He instead takes the time to blatantly look you up and down. You feel a familiar heat in your stomach flicker as he steps back closer to you. This time, seeing the growing hunger across his face, you can’t help but take an unconscious step backwards. Your back hits the wall, and he follows to lean dangerously close to your face.

“Like I said, these conventions get stale,” He purrs softly. “And lonely.”

A million thoughts fight for power inside of you at once. You wonder how often Homelander has done this with other women at other conventions. You confirm with yourself that he and Queen Maeve broke up a year ago, so it isn’t an affair. Are you really moments away from hooking up with the Homelander? It can’t be real. You must be caught in a vivid imaginary scenario and will be back in the vendor aisles any second.

Then, his hand reaches out and takes your forearm. He squeezes gently, and any rational thought in you begins to flatten. His thumb brushes over your smooth skin in a circle. “What do you say?” He asks, his voice dropping further. “Want a more intimate meet-and-greet?”

It’s an awful line, but surely someone of his stature is allowed those lines more than most. You finally smile. “How could I say no?”

“You couldn’t,” He murmurs back, and presses his lips to yours. At first, his kiss is gentle. He kisses you like he’s trying to memorize the curves of your lips. You give yourself to it readily, returning the kiss with a sweetness that cuts a smile into his mouth. Then, when he decides he has you, he becomes hungry. He slips his tongue greedily into your mouth and takes control of the kiss as his hands reach up to cup your face. His hands are warm against your cheeks, and you can’t help your soft moan of approval. You taste his tongue, and can’t help a quiet laugh. He feels it and pulls away a bit, looking almost insulted. “What?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s just…you actually kind of taste like vanilla.”

Homelander blinks, blinks again, and then slowly smiles. This smile is different than his others. For a split moment, it isn’t guarded. “Well…ain’t that ironic?” He murmurs, then eagerly leans in to kiss you again. You respond by resting your hands on his shoulders, pressing tenderly on the tight muscles. He growls against your mouth, an animalistic sound that curls between your legs. One of his thighs slides between yours. It pins you in place against the door, and with a slight nudge, he puts pressure against your crotch that makes you gasp against his mouth. He chuckles and pulls away to begin dotting kisses along your neck. “Sensitive,” He murmurs between kisses and little nips. “Been a while, sweetheart?”

It may have been, but that doesn’t sound very sexy. “You’re just good at this,” You answer instead.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Homelander’s smirk is plain against your skin, even as he bites down hard. You gasp at the surprise of his sharp teeth, but he immediately soothes away any pain with a tongue circling slowly over the mark he’s left. He sucks down delicately, and it only leaves you wondering what else that mouth is capable of. He pulls back and looks at your neck to admire his handiwork. “There. A little souvenir for ya.”

You huff a laugh. “A badge of honor.”

“Knew I liked you,” He growls before kissing you hard. He doesn’t break away from the kiss as he hands nimbly finds your pants and undoes the button. He shimmies them down your legs - and your panties along with them - with a practiced ease that again makes you wonder how often he’s pulled this little trick. If he keeps touching you like this, you can’t bring yourself to care much. You aid him by arching your hips and kicking the offensive materials to the side with a little shake. Homelander wastes little time then in kissing his way down your body. He ducks his head underneath your shirt, and you feel him playfully nip above your belly button before his hands find the backs of your thighs. “Up we go.”

Homelander hooks your thighs over his shoulders. Your back is pressed against the door now, your weight entirely on him. The leader of the Seven is on his knees before you. Despite knowing the man is capable of holding up airplanes, a flare of anxiety grabs you. You curl your fingers in his hair - an action that makes him unabashedly groan - and whisper. “You don’t have to-”

“I don’t have to what? Eat you out?” He looks up at you from between your legs with an arched brow. “You’re a fan. You should know I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.”

You don’t have time for a reply before he’s licking a long stripe up your cunt. He groans first at your taste, but your moan of pleasure is quick to follow. Just like his kisses, he starts slow. He takes the time to know your taste and what flicks of his tongue make you twitch in his arms. He eats you out like he has all the time in the world. His hands eventually wander from under your thighs to your ass, squeezing your cheeks with a possessiveness that would frighten you if you weren’t so aroused. He’s vocal, frequently moaning and slurping at you like you’re his dessert. It leaves your legs shaking, and he hasn’t even sped up. Your clit throbs, and you whimper. “Homelander, please…”

He fully stands up, one hand still on your ass while the other presses to your stomach, pinning you easily to the wall. He’s now merciless against your clit, sucking with a relentlessness that has you spazzing against his hold. He’s inhuman with the way he works you. You forget everything about where you are, that several supes in this hallway can almost certainly hear your moans. All you know is that you might lose your mind if you don’t come soon.

And then he stops.

You let out a loud whine of disapproval before you can stop yourself. Homelander laughs, easing you down to bring your trembling legs around his waist. He coos at your expression. “You look like a kid that dropped their ice cream one.”

You squirm, but his one hand on your hip is enough to keep you still. “That was cruel,” You whisper, your voice hoarse.

“Oh, you have no idea,” He murmurs, and kisses you gently. He tastes like you, and you can’t help but groan before he pulls away to speak against your lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll make you come. But you’re not coming without me.”

He kisses you again. You can hear him unbuckle his belt and shuffle his jeans down. Instinctively, you tense. He shushes you, turning to brush his lips against the side of your face. “Relax, babe. Just gotta…” He whispers as he slowly thrusts into you. His cock pushes into your sopping heat inch by inch. You let out a strangled gasp at how he seems to press at each delicate point inside you. As he bottoms out, he throws his head back with a sigh of relief. “There we go…”

He’s thick, a stretch that would have been painful without his diligent prep. Instead of pain, you can’t think straight. You have never felt this full in your life. Your breath comes out in gasps, and when your eyes lock with his, he grins. “First supe dick, huh?”

You let out a shaky laugh. “First supe dick.”

“Well, hang on tight,” He murmurs. His hands cradle your hips as he thrusts up, pushing you up against the door. Your eyes fall shut, but his gaze never leaves your face. He goes harder as he feels your body adjust until he’s fucking you against the door like it’s his last night on this Earth. His hands are surely leaving bruises against your hips, but you relish it. Your head falls back in bliss, a series of moans spilling out you have no control over.

“God, so many sluts out there would kill to be where you are,” Homelander hisses against your ear. “You’re like a glove on my cock, fuck. Take it. You’re fucking mine now.”

It’s unclear if he means for you to hear all of this rambling. He mumbles most of it against your neck, and you’re both too far into this to make much sense of anything. It doesn’t matter. You orgasm regardless, your voice suddenly gone as it vibrates through your body. Homelander gasps against your skin as your cunt clenches down on his cock, and he immediately follows you in climax - as if he had been waiting for you to finish. He finishes inside of you, and it nearly triggers you to a second orgasm with how full you feel.

There’s a knock on the door.

Every muscle in your body tightens, but Homelander doesn’t move. His head is still buried against your neck as he calls out an agitated reply. “What?”

“We’re on in 10, Homelander,” The Deep’s voice calls from the hall, caught between amused and nervous. “But…uh…take your time.”

“Go away, Deep,” Homelander growls, still inside you.

You hear feet quickly walking away, but you still don’t move. Homelander initiates the move for both of you, slowly returning your feet to the ground. His hands remain on your hips as he chuckles and kisses your jaw. “Well…I’m not usually one to wham and bam, but looks like we’re on a time crunch.”

He lifts you off of his cock and deposits your feet back on the ground. He steps away from you to grab your discarded pants and underwear, tossing them to you lazily. “Hurry up.”

You listen, feeling half-drunk. Your underwear is soaked through, and you wince lightly as you pull your jeans over your shaky legs. Only when you’re fully dressed and straightening out your hair do you realize your phone isn’t in your back pocket anymore. You look up. Homelander is holding it and typing away. He looks at you with a smirk as he hands it back to you. “That’s where I’m staying tonight. Room code’s attached. I’ll be there around eight.”

When all you can do is blink dumbly at him, Homelander snorts and takes your shoulders. “Guess we have to save the banter before the orgasms, huh?” He easily spins you to the door, and pats your ass. “See you later, sweetheart.”

You open the door with your phone in hand, stepping outside back into the hallway. You turn to look at him again in your continued daze. “See you.”

Homelander winks, then closes the door. The last thing you see is him walking towards his suit.

You walk in a trance through the forgivingly empty hallway and find your way back to the convention center's main hall. It’s emptied a bit without multiple panels going on, and it isn’t long before one of your friends spots you. She runs up to your side in a hurry. “Dude, where have you been?! We’ve been looking for you!”

You blink. “I, uh…got a bit sidetracked.”

“By what…” Your friend trails off, eyes widening as she spots the hickey on your neck. She laughs. “Oh. That kind of side mission. At a con? You dog.”

Your lips twitch into a smile. Would she even believe you if you told her?

“Give me the details on the way,” She says, taking your hand and pulling you towards another hall. “I don’t wanna miss Homelander’s opening remarks.”

You can’t help but bark a laugh. Right. You’re going to be sitting through a panel led by Homelander with his hotel room on your phone and his come soaking your underwear.

Your friend sees the look on your face and gives you a curious look. “What?”

“I’ll explain later,” You say with another laugh. “Come on. Let’s hear what the All-American man has to say.”

#the boys #homelander #my writing #homelander x reader #homelander x you #im sorry i cant write anything angsty #im always just borderline trolling myself

247 notes · View notes

merakiui · 5 months ago

Note

jade is absolutely getting off to the thought of drugging you up with mushrooms and then using them to fuck you

Oh, most definitely. 😌

“You’re an ash-hole,” is the first thing to tumble out of your mouth. The insult isn’t nearly as biting as you’d hoped it would be, for the slurred way in which you pronounce the expletive dulls its sharpness tenfold. It does earn you a quirk of the mouth from Jade. The exact opposite of what you wanted.

You’re sweating out of your skin, body temperature rocket-high. It almost rivals the stifling humidity of the off-campus woods, which you think might be your resting place if whatever shit Jade spiked your salad with stops your heart. Pre-hike salad, your foot!

He’s found a comfortable clearing, the lush grass more inviting than the cool breeze tickling your cheek. It feels like the wind has a dozen tiny tongues and they’re all lapping at your face. With a shiver, you smack Jade’s arm away when he offers to ease you down. The world is breathing beneath you. The tree trunk you prop yourself against has a heartbeat, and you watch the lines in the bark undulate like saltwater waves.

“As a member of the Mountain Lovers’ Club,” Jade says, lowering to his knees in front of you, his backpack now shrugged off. When you blink, he’s right in front of you next, checking to make sure you’re still lucid. Mostly. “You must be able to discern dangerous flora from the safe ones. The mushrooms mixed in with your salad have hallucinogenic properties. In small amounts, they’re fine. Quite the exciting trip, one might say. But there are some species that have hazardous effects…”

You squeeze your eyes shut again and inhale a shuddering breath. There are spiders beneath your eyelids and in your skin. It prickles. You move to slap nothing off your arm and find that, in the seconds or maybe minutes your world has been turned over, your shorts have been shucked down to your ankles. Jade’s spidery digits creep in close, parting your legs, sliding along your hole through the fabric. You’d kick him if your body wasn’t so keen on melting like candle wax. All you can do is wilt and take in big gulps of air as he presses in, fingers curling beneath your underwear, prodding inside such a private, sensitive place. You’re not sure how much time passes. You swim in and out of consciousness, occasionally snapping back to yourself like a boomerang.

When you come to, it’s with a keening cry and he hums, sounding quite pleased. You’re not sure how or when it happened, but you came around his fingers. The embarrassment doesn’t settle for long, not when your skeleton is jittering in its fleshy confines. You think you might be sick. Something is crawling up your throat. Hands? Vomit? It feels weird. Just what was in that salad? What terrible mushroom did he experiment with this time?

And that’s just it. Everything he does is experimental. Never on himself. You’d quite like that—to give him a literal taste of his own medicine and watch him crumple. What a glorious day that would be.

Like a surgeon, Jade slips a pair of latex gloves on. For a horrified moment, you wonder if he really is going to bury you out here. But instead he procures a particularly sizable mushroom from a plastic bag. It looks familiar, but right now there are a dozen names rushing through your mind and none of them can be correct. You watch with even more horror as he tears a little square package open and slides the condom over the mushroom’s stipe, all business. Perfectly clinical.

“Today, we’re going to learn to identify mushrooms and their uses.” He beams. “Starting with this one.”

“I…” Your tongue feels all wrong. Numb. Too long. And then too short. You try to pronounce your next words, but they come out in a messy splutter.

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s edible.” Jade smiles angelically.

Gee, thanks for the help. That narrows it down by a lot, you think, sarcastic.

“Maybe this will jog your memory,” he adds, and when you blink the stipe is pushing against your puckered hole. His fingers are wrapped gently around the cap of the mushroom, holding it steady.

“Wha…” You attempt to crawl back from him, but the tree holds you firm. “Jade—”

“It’s a very popular ingredient in soups and risotto,” he continues, undeterred in his approach.

You dig your fingers into the ground and rip up clumps of grass. It feels wrong. Intrusive. This strange, foreign thing. You squirm weakly, but it doesn’t shake him off.

Dunno, you think, your mouth moving mutely.

“It’s part of the genus Boletus.”

Oh, you hate him something fierce. This smart-ass eel. As if you’d know the scientific name or the genus and whatever-heenus-gleenus. You’ll kill him.

Not really. Because who could kill Jade Leech? Not you.

But the feeling comes something close to death as you imagine yourself weaponizing the blazing sun in your scowl and burning a hole through him like he’s an ant under a magnifying glass. Instead, your expression falls and you give a short, sweet whine. The mushroom presses in shallowly. Jade watches with a delight that can only be described as exhilaration. His smile is preternatural.

It turns out it’s a penny bun. Boletus edulis. He tells you that halfway into working the thick mushroom in and out of you.

“I’m sure you’ll have better luck with the next one,” he assures, and then you see it. The many mushrooms packed neatly away in his backpack, each one packaged in that chilling, serial-killer-like precision only Jade Leech could have.

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #tw: dubcon #tw: drugging #he’s a freak…

172 notes · View notes

le-fruit-de-la-passion · 5 months ago

Note

Not a request but imagine Viktor debating whether or not to augment his dick because on one hand fun sexy times and on the other it's his dick shit can go wrong and he doesn't want to affect his fertility if he decides he does want kids

You know, as a fandom, I feel like we don't discuss the dick situation as much as we should... like, I've given my opinion on what's up with the Arcane Herald Penis Predicament (go read more on that in my one-shot The Prophet spoke, and the faithful knelt 👀), but I can't imagine the Machine Herald Cock Conundrum is the exact same...

Here is my hypothesis:

So, Machine Herald replaces the parts of his body that he considers weaknesses or that could be augmented with technology and machinery.

Dick and balls are pretty inconvenient from a technical standpoint, they're an easy target to incapacitate someone in a fight ((fun fact, some animals actually know this and will attack the face or the genitalia of other animals/humans to inflict the most damage)). Plus, they are a strong testament to how much the human body is controlled by emotions and impulses, so it wouldn't be that far-fetched to assume MH!Viktor would have gotten rid of them.

HOWEVER

I believe that this theory would be missing an important aspect of MH!Viktor's philosophy and identity. What he craves is an evolution of the human species through the removal of weaknesses of the flesh, such as illness. And evolution REQUIRES the continued existence of a species through time, which means reproduction is still a key aspect in his vision. It would be counterproductive for him to want to get rid of reproductive organs: they're an essential part of making sure a long-term evolution is even possible.

Additionally, MH!Viktor has been shown through various parts of his lore to be exceptionally caring about children. In that same vein, season 1 Viktor often brings back the concept of having a personal legacy...

Considering both of these factors, I'd say that, yes, MH!Viktor still has his human penis. BUT, he would also definitely get rid of the flaws I mentioned earlier.

For example, he would likely be able to at least partially regulate blood flow to his cock, in order to be in control of his own bodily reactions (ie., when he wants to be hard or not). He would also probably add some sort of protective cover or coating over it, with a flexible but resistant material that would prevent genitalia from being used as a weak spot. Almost like a permanent, metal cocksleeve.

If he was to gain a lover along the way, perhaps the sleeve could be tweaked a little, to add some bonus features. A length enhancer, or some bumpy ridges... the possibilities are truly endless. But it would all be solely for the purpose of his goal, of course, not for something as trivial as pleasure. A lot of research seems to correlate female orgasm to higher chances of pregnancy; he's only doing what has to be done to strengthen the future of the Glorious Evolution. Any additional physical enjoyment is merely a side effect, nothing more.

IN CONCLUSION, according to my professional, scientific opinion, I believe MH!Viktor would keep his human penis, but remove all its conceptual weaknesses with technology. There is simply no version of Viktor in the multiverse that doesn't make use of his big, fat cock, and that's just the way things are 😌.

#I SPENT WAY TOO MUCH TIME THINKING ABOUT THIS AHDJFNNF #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor smut #machine herald viktor #arcane viktor x reader smut #arcane viktor #viktor headcanons #my rambles #my asks #mine #im sooooo normal about him

170 notes · View notes

whispereons · 2 years ago

Text

Oracle!Reader Part 14

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 13, Part 15

Warning as usual. There is blood and gore in this chapter!

Staring up at the Archon parading around in human form, you lick your lips and note how even those minor injuries were healed. Your body aches with phantom pain, some wounds healed too rapidly.

"I don't mind answering some questions, can I get your name first?"

A small smile plays at his lips as his hand is held out in front of you. "My name is Zhongli, I'm the Funeral Parlors consultant. It would be a pleasure to hear yours, outlander."

So he is aware of your origin, well at least partly aware. If he's not going to pull any punches then why should you? Besides if it all goes wrong, you can blame it on the bloodloss that you're still recovering from.

"I'm Y/N, and you're correct that I do not originate from this world. You must not be a normal person either, in fact you look identical to this statue. This one portrays Morax the Geo Archon, but I'm sure you know that, Rex Lapis."

Getting a good look at the statue from your proximity, it was obvious that Zhongli was Morax. You could make the excuse of it being game logic on why no one makes the connection, but that wouldn't work anymore. Maybe the statues are imbued with power that prevents anyone from this world to recognize the similarities?

"So it seems you are more knowledgeable than the traveler was when they arrived here. I should have known considering how the Electro and Geo particles surround you with zeal. Perhaps Teyvat is charmed by the features you share with the Holy One."

His step forward and angled head to look you in the eyes have you staring at glowing amber hues. The red eyeliner and outlined iris make it uncomfortably clear how intensely he's examining you.

"The curve of your lips, a stature so familiar, you resemble the creator so much. Teyvat must be bewitched and awed by an individual so alike as you. If only I could see your face in it's full visage, only then would I know for sure..."

Anyone would feel flattered or embarrassed with how seriously Zhongli studies you, but dread is the only thing you feel. You know that behind those honey-coated words is a trap just waiting for you to spring.

Too bad for him; the last thing you plan to be is predictable.

"My, my what a compliment! A devout and faithful follower like yourself is comparing me to the creator? You should pray for forgiveness to the merciful creator. I'm a servant for them, just in a different league than you. My connection with them is strong enough that Teyvat graces me with qualities alike yet inferior to the Everlasting One."

Zhongli returned to his perfect posture at your words, the flash of envy couldn't hide. "Oh?" Narrowed eyes and a lofty tone that encourages you to smile wider. "And what position could an outsider like you hold?"

"Well, as an Oracle of course! Really, just how dumb are you? An outlander that is incredibly knowledgeable of the Creator? It's painfully obvious." There's no reaction to your test insults, which is fine that wasn't the last you had in store.

"I'm from the world that the Creator is recuperating in. It's due to that, that I can speak to them much more freely than everyone here. Even Teyvat pales in comparison. That's why Teyvat is so attached to me, my aura is overwhelmed by the creators."

Honestly, you had Chongyun to thank for that one. You weren't sure how you were supposed to explain the whole Teyvat clinging to you without sounding repetitive. But if Zhongli was that easily fooled, he wouldn't be one of the victors of the Archon war.

"Then enlighten me on why the glorious creator would need an Oracle of your caliber to spread their word. Surely that's the least you can do." He's fully dropped that faux-polite tone in contrast to the technically proper speech.

"Gladly! It's become common knowledge that the elemental monsters and animals have started to act strangely. Add in the leylines that change from out of control to perfectly calm in a matter of minutes or weeks. These are all signs of the Creator's upcoming appearance! They need to be sure of who in this vast land they can properly trust."

"That still doesn't explain why you in particular were chosen. A wily and fresh child like you wouldn't do the best job." Hard like stone, Zhongli refused to even blink at your words. A god like himself would never falter after thousands of years spent perfecting his worship.

But did he really have to insult you at the same time?

"So you refuse to believe it because of my supposed inability to properly carry out any duties assigned to me? You don't even know all that I had done to arrive here! Surely you should know just how rough the waters were..."

The hand that covers your mouth does a poor job of covering the sly smile. Zhongli stares at you in silence, the wind swaying around the floating chunk of rock that you both stand on.

"Just what are you trying to imply?" His voice is as soft as a whisper but cutting like the sharpest steel.

"Why explain it when I can show it?" Silently rejoicing at such a convenient set up, you peer into your bag and grab the item you've been saving.

Shimmering brightly in the harsh glares of the sun is Beisht's scale, still in pristine condition despite your perilous journey since that day you got it from the sea-leviathan.

It feels like ages ago. Just how much time has passed since you arrived on Teyvat? How much more time will you spend in situations like this? Weeks? Months? YEARS?

The existential dread is quickly pushed away by your beaming smile at Zhongli's reaction to the singular item. The rocky exterior finally breaks at the proof of your 'abilities'. His lips part at the bright teal color and he blinks incredulously at it.

Really, how could you pass up the chance to rub it in?

"Surely a human of my caliber would be capable of this much. I mean, a perfectly intact scale from a leviathan that managed to avoid the whole Qixing that isn't dyed in blood? Child's play for a servant specifically chosen by the Creator. I never doubted the creators' choices!"

Holding the scale in front of you, you smirk at the man with as much snark as you hold in your heart. "The same can't be said for you, Mr. 'That still doesn't explain why you in particular were chosen.' Because the Creator is capable of choosing anyone they want, for whatever reason they desire."

Silence envelopes the area as you stare at him, a beat passes with no movement until a gruff chuckle leaves him.

"The more you speak, the closer I come to a conclusion." Recovering quickly, Zhongli's gloved hand rises to tap his mouth contemplatively. "You're either something far worse than I've seen in a long time, or a hope for the Creator's return."

That white outline around his iris seems to spin with the malicious joy that he refuses to show. It's like his body screams that he'll either enjoy your presence or your destruction. Nerves and anxiety grip your heart but ignoring it has always worked better for you.

"Maybe I can say the same thing about you considering your past, but I see you still aren't convinced. And how could I ever let you, one of the longest standing worshippers, have doubts about me? So tell me, were Beisht and her husband devout or sacrilegious beings?"

The answer he'll say is obvious, not only because you hold such a confident stance showing that you know the answer but because of Zhongli himself. A noble dragon that willingly bows to someone would feel ashamed at the thought of resorting to lying to boost his own pride.

Quite ironic how you hold so much trust in his answer due to the acolytes' faith in the creator. The same faith that led you to this position, and the same thing that'll keep you from ever exposing the truth of your identity. A constant force preventing them from meeting their 'beloved' creator.

"You met Beisht in the flesh, there's no doubt that she is solemn and serious in her worship. The same can be said for Osial, it was one of the few things I could agree with the leviathan. Even still, I'm the superior believer. After all, I'm the one who is left after all this time."

"Yet I met Beisht before you."

The scoff and know-it-all tone he used pricked at your nerves long enough to cause an annoyed response to slip out. Unfortunately, that seems to be what Zhongli was baiting for as he laughs, the low sound making the rock platform tremble.

"That's if you're even an Oracle. You may be from that world and even heard about Teyvat from the Creator, but for all I know, you could have been banished here for us acolytes to execute. Whether it be for avenging the Creator or entertaining them."

Damn, it was almost scary how fast he turned the situation around. But how could you falter now? Getting tongue-tied at such a crucial moment would be a pathetic way to lose your life.

"And what will you do if I truly am an Oracle? When the creator's return is delayed months, years or even decades due to your rash actions, what will you tell the creator when confronted with the consequences of your own actions?"

"Then you should work hard enough to prove to skeptics like myself. To put blind faith in whatever is dubbed the creator's is a fool's belief. Temptation and sin ravage Teyvat from the long drought of the Creator's presence."

For a split second, sorrow clouded his eyes. He's hiding something. It’s important and you can feel it in your soul. The only thing that really stains his and Venti's reputation is their war with Khaenri'ah. It must be connected to that.

But it's too early to try digging in for information on that. He doesn't even believe you to be the Oracle, how could you possibly get that out of him? What if he's under a contract and must stay silent on the matter?

Lost in his memories, Zhongli doesn't realize how your face pinches in frustration. You'll have to get his approval as the Oracle before you can even-

Oh.

Oh, why didn't you realize this before?

A grin spreads across your face as you circle in on the heart of the problem and the perfect way to fix it.

It's not that Zhongli doesn't believe you to be the creator's Oracle, he just doesn't want to believe it! He's envious: envious of why a random outlander like you got such a nice position in comparison to him who probably spent most of his life molding himself to the creators standards.

All that's left is to reel him in and you know the perfect way how.

"Prove myself? I've done plenty to prove myself, but what about you?" Mockingly, you tilt your head as your empty gaze peers into Zhongli's eyes, digging deep into him. He focuses back on the conversation at your shift in tone.

"If anyone should have to prove themselves, it should be you." This time it's you who takes the bold step forward. "Let's start at the beginning, shall we? And try to keep in that temper too so that I can finish my words. A dragon your age should know such simple things."

"As Morax you were quite powerful, though a brute to be completely honest. Still, you knew your limits well and paired up with the Lord of Dust before the Archon War, who served as the 'brain'. Tell me, just how did it feel when you found her as nothing more than a statue that day?"

Your words have a strong effect on the imposing man, his fist trembling at the mention of such a beloved god, one whose death still pains him. Paying no mind to his pain you ask the monumental question.

"Just how much resentment do you hold against the Creator for her death?"

A hand slams you against the Statue hard enough to bruise your skin. It doesn't squeeze around your throat but there's no need to as the Geo begins to petrify your legs, locking you in place. The Statue is in a constant state of healing in defense to the bruises on your neck.

"Just what are you trying to imply by saying that?" Cold and apathetic is the voice that flows from the stoic man. It's what you would imagine Morax would sound like before Guizhong taught him how to care for humans.

"C'mon, that's the second time you've asked me that. Don't make me speak the obvious-" A shuddering gasp leaves you as he tightens his grip. But it's gone just as fast; a flock of birds tackle Zhongli.

You can only watch in shock as what was only 4 to 5 birds grow to become at least 15 birds of all kinds attacking him. The throbbing of your neck being healed as the Geo instantly releases you is overshadowed by Zhongli swatting at the birds as he takes continuous steps back.

But that's all it took for Zhongli to fall off the edge as the birds flew away cawing happily. Standing and staring at the spot where Zhongli fell off in shock, you begin to chuckle. It grows to a giggle before you're laughing hysterically as you buckle to the ground. Loud peels of laughter ring around the area as you hold your stomach from the ache of laughing so much.

To think Teyvat took the initiative to help you out for once. Why couldn't it do it sooner? Was it only after gaining some power from activating a new nations statue of the seven that it could? You couldn't focus on the question anymore as the look on Zhongli's face when he fell came to mind again.

The sight of his eyes blown wide and a split second of pure panic sent you straight back into a fit of laughter. The ground far below you shakes as a Geo pillar constructs a bridge high enough to reach the stone you sat on.

The sound of footsteps make you open your eyes and giggle at the sight of a disheveled and annoyed Zhongli. Annoyed is still an improvement compared to his enraged state earlier. With giggles slipping out, you stand back up and laugh louder at his appearance in full view.

His hair was pulled out of his rattail with his earrings nowhere to be seen. Bits and pieces of the weaker cloth of his suit were missing, giving him a poor look that didn't match his flawless posture. The red marks and light cuts only added to the joy you feel at his expense.

"Are you finished laughing, Y/N?"

"For now at least. I would suggest buying a new set of clothes but I don't think you have the mora for it!" Zhongli only lets out a long-suffering sigh as you crack up again.

You would be scolding yourself for not taking the chance to escape while he was away but it was better this way. You didn't need the information about Khaenri'ah, it was nice to know but the information wouldn't help you live.

The main reason you stayed was because running away would prove Zhongli right to be suspicious about you. It would let him know that you're scared and have something to hide. Plus, that would mean having to escape Liyue the same way you did Ei, just in a worse situation.

That's not something you want to repeat.

"Alright I'm done laughing." You say while wiping off the budding tears from the corner of your eyes. Zhongli sends you a look that screams that he doesn't believe you but you shrug it off.

"Really, that question was more of a test if you will. My main job is simply to see who the Creator can trust. Your relationship with the Creator beyond that is between you and them."

The calm and peaceful tone you use is such a contrast to the one you used earlier that Zhongli is clearly apprehensive. Paying it no mind you continue to speak.

"If you truly want a reason to at least try and believe me to be the oracle even if you don't fully believe me, then I'll give you one. I'm sure you still have the stone dumbbell from Guizhong that you've never been able to open. I know how to open it."

Those last words have Zhongli staring at you intensely as you gaze off into the distance. The Dragon-Queller tree is visible through the fog with its glowing blue branches and yellow leaves.

"How?" He breathes out, scared to trust but scared to lose this opportunity too.

"It requires a naturally grown glaze lily cultivated by the Creator. That's because it requires a 'pure' glaze lily and the only one who can grow such a thing at this day and age is the Creator. All the natural glaze lilies have died after all."

Zhongli's shoulders slump at your words. It seems he started to let his guard down after he fell off. He must no longer view you as a threat or, at most, an annoyance. That's okay with you, underestimation is the most useful viewpoint they could have for you.

"Should I even make an attempt to ask you why it can only be unlocked with that? You're only telling me this as a last resort to keep you alive, correct? Even if I told you that I would keep you alive without that information, you wouldn't believe me. As childish as you may be, foolishness does not seem to be a quality you hold."

"That may be true, but if you really want an answer to that first question then I'll tell you." You look over to lock eyes with him and smile. It conceals every sneaky and vicious thought you hold. "I have no clue. The Creator instructed me to use it as a last resort, if you want that answer then try praying. Perhaps you'll get an answer."

You would like to know the answer to the stone dumbbell too. After all, you only made up the solution! Seeing as Zhongli spent all these years after Guizhong's death, failing to unlock it, it's a good bet that it'll never open.

It's silent as you both get lost in your own thoughts. Unlike before it wasn't tense, it was more comparable to the silence you would spend alone in your apartment. The nights you would only be accompanied by the thoughts of the 'what-if' situations. Thoughts that would only stay thoughts just as the past would be just that, the past.

Wanderer learned that the hard way too. You wouldn't let yourself hold so many regrets before your inevitable death. Even in Liyue you weren't truly safe, so wouldn't it be best to speak to Zhongli while you still could?

"I have questions about Khaenri'ah… Well, the better way to put it is that the Creator has questions about them. It's one of the few things that they mourn the most. A whole nation devoted to worshiping solely the creator, destroyed by the Archons that swore their life and loyalty to the creator. So will you explain it to me?"

His eyes fill with the same sorrow you saw in him earlier. It seems you were right in guessing that his line on blindly trusting things labeled with the creator was connected to Khaenri'ah.

"I have spent all my years after that day asking for forgiveness, for some way to atone. It was one of the few contracts that I did not properly balance in equivalent exchange. I regret signing it, not for myself but for my beloved God."

"So it's a no."

"It's an agreement not to speak of it."

"Then don't speak about it." Zhongli seeds you a questioning glance as you mischievously smile at him. "Just listen to my words and don't look away. I'm quite sure nodding and shaking your head doesn't count as breaking your silence."

A huff of amusement leaves him at your solution. His eyes close with his lips curling into a small smile. He nods his head in acceptance, not having the drive to poke holes into your stubbornness.

You were quite confident in the conclusions you've drawn so far. Genshin Impact was nearly the sole reason you were living back on Earth. Family and friends were nonexistent, you had given up hope on making any new connections as well. The only thing you did when you weren't home was work and your work made you be everything but yourself. So combining everything you know from the game with everything of the cult that you've learned thus far shouldn't be too hard.

"When the Archon War broke out, I'm sure most of you were merely looking to keep your people and nation alive. The original design of having the gods powered solely on their people's worship paled in comparison to Celestia's offer of power by obtaining a spot in a group of seven. At the end, you all had a choice. Accept your spot by accepting a Gnosis, or go against them similar to how the Dragon King once did."

Zhongli perks up at the mention of the Dragon King. Not many people know about the original Dragon King. Most people assume it's Azhdaha when in reality, the original was a far greater dragon.

"You all must have been quite against it. The only God you would all bow under would be the Creator who had left before those events to sleep in my world, yet Celestia probably whispered to you all that it was allowed on Teyvat because it was approved by the Creator. That the Gnosis was a reward for all your hard work and as Celestia was the first descender, all of you accepted it.”

The way he begins to stare at you is invasive, like he's just dying to jump you to get every bit of knowledge you hold on the topic. He's starting to suspect you.

"Yet when Khaenri'ah was revealed to exist years afterwards, everything was thrown into confusion. I'm sure you and the other Archons were fine with their presence as Khaenri'ah worshiped the Creator, but was Celestia?"

A sly smile creeps upon your face at the memory of when it was revealed that Khaenri'ah wasn't the first civilization to be turned into hilichurls. No one liked Celestia so you had no problem pinning almost all the blame onto it.

"I'm sure they were enraged, especially as Khaenri'ah grew more and more bold with their inventions. Gold in particular was quite dangerous seeing as she not only created life but also Durin and the Golden Wolflord. And even that was unintentional!"

You laugh cheerfully as Zhongli chuckles in surprise at your words. Had you successfully deterred him? Probably not, but he hasn't stopped you so you'll keep going till the end.

"Celestia ordered you all to aid them in destroying Khaenri'ah but you all refused. How could any of you harm a nation so devoted to the creator even if they refused to worship Celestia or the Seven? But that Gnosis you all accepted comes with a price. A price that serves as leverage and a control device."

The thoughts of what Beisht told you on how Celestia had caused them to forget the original way of worship resurfaced. Celestia was just too suspicious for that to be the only thing they had done. It would take a lot more than that to force the Archons to listen to them.

"That Gnosis was like a drug. It gave you all so much power, tasting and making you feel like you're on top of the world! Just for it to come crashing down when the unpleasant side effects hit you. It corrupted you all like poison forcing you to wage war against Khaenri'ah. My best bet is that it was like mind control. What do you say?"

He looks at you with a blank expression, as if trying to see the secrets you hid in your soul through your eyes. But there's no response from him, not even the occasional nods that he was giving before.

"Well if it was mind control, perhaps it made you believe that Khaenri'ah had plans to overrule the Creator and create their own human god. Or maybe it made them out to be traitors to the creator. Perhaps both? That doesn't really matter, what does matter is that only after the war was in full throttle were you all brought back to your senses."

You didn't have any proof of that last part, it just seemed like something Celestia would do. Not only to prove their superiority but also force the Archons to put their best effort in defeating the people of Khaenri'ah to save their nations.

"After the war ended, you all wanted to get rid of it but Celestia wouldn't allow such a thing. Even if you most likely tried to find some loophole, Celestia doesn't play nice. It would make sense if they threatened to give a punishment similar to what they had done to Khaenri'ah. So long as none of you destroy or throw it away, they'll leave you all be,”

Venti was a god, no matter what fans said, there was no way he would lose to Signora. It made more sense if that was his way of 'handing' it over to the Tsaritsa. There was also Nahida who threatened to break her Gnosis to one-up Dottore. That was always funny, you would kill to have witnessed that in person.

"Of course none of you would actually use it or even desire it in your vicinity. Everyone wins when the Tsaritsa uses her various methods to acquire the gnosis'. And thanks to the traveler appearing during that time, Celestia was probably too busy freaking out over that to pay too much attention. For a while at least."

Finally looking back to Zhongli, you smiled proudly. "I must be pretty close right? At no point did you laugh at me like you did with Alice so I'll take that as a good sign. And even if I'm wrong, everything will be solved when the Creator descends."

Stretching to loosen the tension in your back, you applaud yourself for the brilliant thinking. It's not like anyone can actually fake gold blood for long when even hair dye didn't exist yet. You're basically leaving all these loose ends to the you that would be believed to be the Creator. Which is never going to happen!

"Would the Creator scorn me for asking you once again if you're truly an oracle?"

"I'm sure the glorious creator would be fully justified in doing so, but I'll scorn you in their stead.. And don't get it twisted, it's not because of your feelings concerning Guizhong's death. It's how you, by your own negligence, offended the Creator!"

An utterly baffled expression paints his face at your accusation. Unrelenting, you point your finger at him with a serious face that you haven't shown him till now.

"Did you really believe that the creator wouldn't realize? Just how little you changed from that brute of a dragon that saw humans as plentiful yet insignificant as dust? To think that you believed yourself to be comparable to the primordial dragons."

Zhongli stiffens at the mention of the primordial dragons. After all he is the prime of the Adepti who's exuvia is a dragon, not a primordial dragon. Wouldn't it be fun if he held some sense of inferiority when compared to the primordial ones?

Zhongli sits on the ledge of the rock with his elbows on his legs and his hands covering his face. It was time. He would question just what you were talking about and you'll explain the elemental sacrificing that he forgot. That'll be the end and he'll have no choice but to support you!

Smiling knowingly you approach him and lean down to see behind the shadow casting over his eyes. Your eyes twinkle victoriously as his breath leaves a cloud from the crisp air.

"I should have known that the creator would not forgive me for failing to arrive on time."

What?

"How could I have been beaten to that shooting star by that astrologist? No matter who may have been her master, I failed to arrive on time."

Zhongli sulks there as he continues rambling to himself on 'missing' the shooting star due to his old age. Was he seriously talking about how you lost him the first time to Mona?!

Memories come back of you using the last of your wishes on his banner and being greeted with Mona instead. The first 50/50 you lost and was forced to use nearly all your primogems to get him. A fact that you never let Zhongli forget through your adventures.

Just what would he do if he knew how you always switched to a different character whenever his idle starts to play? Would he sew his lips together in repentance? That must be the difference between a true believer and a fake believer...

Holding back a sigh you begin brainstorming on how you were supposed to bring the conversation back to the sacrificing. Zhongli is too lost in his own head as he begins to continuously blame himself for any mistake he could have made.

"Being unable to answer the travelers' questions must have worsened their view on me too."

"That and how you were willing to let Liyue flood if they couldn't defeat Osial."

"Human life may be precious but they're as numerous as the dust that make up stone. I would rebuild Liyue for the rest of this long life until I cultivate a nation that I could humbly present the creator with."

"Then shouldn't the creator just grind you down and raise a different Adepti to their exact liking? You should work hard to be exactly what they desire to be truly loved."

"Are you saying that the Creator loathes me?" He finally looks away from the sea of clouds to stare at you. Sparing him a glance, you listen to him grow more panicked by your silence.

"Do they wish to see me crumble and be reabsorbed into the earth for my mistakes, for my sins? Was it the way I mechanically went through the motions of worship for the few years after Guizhong's death? Or does my benevolent god crave me and my nation to fall for aiding in the destruction of Kh-?"

Abruptly Zhongli grasps at his chest where his heart lays as he coughs. More out of politeness than concern you rub his back as fluid flies from his lips to his closed fist.

The thick inky plum colored fluid stained his fist with droplets of crimson swirling within it. His coughing fit slows to a halt as his hand slowly releases the clothing over his heart. Harsh breathing and a shallow pained groan is all that can be heard as he cleans himself up.

“Pardon me-”

“Was that a warning from Celestia or a side effect if you get too close to speaking?"

"The implication is the same no matter what it may be from." He whispers as you begin to move back to return his personal space. Yet his now ungloved hand is what wraps around your grass stained sleeve.

"Now answer my question." Determination and a barely concealed unruly emotion simmer beneath his composed surface as he asks. "As an oracle, tell me what I have to do to earn their forgiveness. What must I reap to begin repenting for the sins I sowed?"

Eyes widening at the sight of the disheveled man, you stare at him quietly. The messy hair, cut up clothing and grip tight enough to keep you still all while being careful not to bruise.

Hook, line and sinker.

"Is that a question for me to answer? Am I the god that you wronged? If you wish to communicate with the creator yourself, then there is a way. A method to begin regaining the pebbles that make up the mountain of trust you once shared with them."

You grab the arm that connects to his hand wrapped around your own and pull him up. He obeys the silent command and stands up, his gaze never faltering from your form. Silent and towering like the mountains he's created, he simply listens.

"Celestia has hidden more from you than you originally thought. But I'm sure you already know that. Offer yourself to the merciful creator and they'll surely hear your pleas of forgiveness. Whether they forgive you or not is up to them."

Releasing your hold on him, you turn to survey the area. Now where could you have him perform the sacrifice? His free hand comes to rest on your shoulder for your attention.

"What must I offer of myself? My blood? My body? If need be, I'll even be willing to offer my life. My life is worthless without them. I'm nothing more than a grain of mineral if not for them."

"There's so many things you can offer, but if you want to make the most impact, then you'll offer up your body parts. Your life may be precious but just how much longer do you have left?"

"Then will the private temple I have built for them work? We can head there immediately." He points south to the sole unnamed mountain in Minlin. You vividly remember unlocking the teleport waypoint there.

"The only way I'll know is when I see the interior. I'll meet you there Zhongli!"

Pulling yourself away from his grasp, you close your eyes and calmly imagine what the scenery around the waypoint looks like. The rocky feel of the floating stone changes to a lush green beneath your feet. Opening your eyes you're greeted with a valley of viridescent brustles with degraded stone ruins at the edges.

"To think that the Creator even allowed you access to the waypoints. They must treasure you greatly." He appears at your side in a matter of minutes. His tone has a hint of longing and bitterness.

It's sweet like the flavor of a childhood candy that you would sneak behind your parents backs. Almost sweet enough to make up for the starvation you would face later on as punishment.

"Instead of focusing on that, why don't you show me that private temple you created? As the Geo Archon, I hold high expectations for you."

"This temple is the one I created for me. If you want the glamorous shrine built for the mass and appearance then you're better off viewing the public one that the Qixing now control."

He walks down the hill until the grass is tall enough to cover his calves. You follow behind him and stare blankly at the plain that is covered with a healthy amount of tall marigolds. Just as you're about to repeat the question, the earth begins to rumble.

It starts with just one stone rising from the ground, until it multiplies into a roof like structure. You watch in awe as a temple surges out of the mountain with the slightest bits of dirt falling off it.

Stone of high quality and clearly careful upkeep shines with small cracks from the passage of time. Gold, silver, and bronze layer the nooks and crannies of the pillars that keep a roof over the doorway.

Marveling at it, you follow Zhongli into the temple... He couldn't kill you in it, right? Surely you could still teleport even if he locked you in it… Teleporting without using the map might not work due to the focus and effort it required, but doing it with the map has never failed you yet.

The inside was even more impressive; statues of all kinds surrounded the hallway. It was you, always you, just in different poses, clothing and materials. From thin robes crafted entirely from Cor Lapis, to suits made of Noctilucous Jade.

Arriving at what seemed to be the main room, you're greeted with a huge statue comparable to the public one in Inazuma's plaza. Sunlight bathed your statue from the skylight above it.

Your body was made of Cor Lapis decorated in an Archon-like robe made from Noctilucous Jade. A fresh Glaze Lily sat in your palm as Silk Flowers adorned your head in a crown like structure. You sat on a blue stone throne that seemed to grow brighter as you approached it. The sleek yet dense mineral looked like the magical crystal chunks you would give to the blacksmiths.

"Be careful to not venture too close to that one, the elemental energy may leave it to join you." Zhongli warns as he steps into the middle of the room. Smiling casually to hide your amazement, you head back to him.

"What an impressive statue, the Creator is feeling quite pleased with the display but still wishes to see your true remorse." Digging into your bag, you brought out the ceremonial knife and the handbook you took notes on.

"Go get the softest cloth and lay it on the ground. This ritual is simple, you'll cut off whatever part of your body you wish to offer, pray, and wait for a response. If 10 to 20 minutes pass with no response, then you can leave it at that or offer more in hopes of a response."

Closing the book and shoving it back into your bag you offer the knife to Zhongli. He looks up from where he laid the gilded gold fabric to stare at the knife before letting out a drawl laugh.

"That knife will do little to my scales, Y/N. A ceremonial item is to be bathed in liquid gold to be used so I have more than enough weapons that can actually cut my skin."

Scoffing, you stuff the knife back in as he leaves and returns with a variety of weapons. The largest was an ax that smelled faintly of blood. Was it used to sacrifice someone not too long ago? The thought makes you uncomfortable, yet you're no longer alarmed at the thought.

My, have you changed.

You move to stand away from the center closer to the exit. Zhongli's bare hand turns to a pattern of black and amber hues. Shedding his thick coat, his flexed muscles in draconic form are left in full view.

If you were back on Earth, you would have killed to view this. An Archon’s skin was something the majority of the players wished for, for quite a while. Even now, you would love to see his true Archon form, but the thought of actually living was far more tantalizing.

Rolling up his sleeves, he chooses a sword and examines it carefully. Without fear he raises it high and slices downwards cutting his hand off cleanly. The ruby liquid sprays onto the floor as the droplets drip off his sword and dismembered limb simultaneously.

It doesn't matter how many times you witness or smell blood, it still disgusts you. The only blood you truly cherished in shedding was the one that left that man's body when you stabbed him in that cold alleyway.

His hand lands onto the expensive textile with a wet thud as the ivory bone sticks out. Zhongli lays the sword down gently resisting the urge to groan in pain. Gritting his teeth he returned his attention and gaze back to you. You, who stayed in perfect position ahead of him, clad in gems and minerals carved by his own hand.

Closing his eyes, his lips followed the adored pass time of praying with intensity. Too lost in his regret, joy, and infatuation his words slipped out clear like the perfectly carved jewels he’s crafted for you.

"My god, my god. For I have sinned against you so. The mistakes I cannot fix or change, I pray for your forgiveness." Your unmoving, unchangeable eyes stared at him with an expression so familiar to him, one who worshiped you in this temple for centuries.

"From allowing myself to be tricked, to the lack of devotion I felt to you in Guizhong's death and finally with how I treated a servant of yours with disdain. Envious, I am envious to an extent that I shouldn't hold to my righteous god like you. Even now I still haven't broken the habit of referring to you as 'my' god."

Once again, just like the first time, Teyvat seems to overwhelm you with his feelings. You stare at his back as his lips murmur the words of devotion without an end in sight. Silently, you accept his offering, this first one was only to put the last nail in the coffin of you being an oracle.

The sky darkens as Zhongli's hand crumbles into a pile of primogems that dissolve into the air. Blue and purple stars dance across the sky as a lone gold star makes its way closer.

You didn't plan to always accept his offerings. After all you did lose a 50/50 to him and was forced to put up with his paranoid possessiveness in regards to your creator self. Shouldn't you make him lose a few times to even the score?

The gold star shines brighter and bigger as Zhongli gazes at it with a smile purer than anything he's ever felt since his creation at your hands. It flies through the window enveloping him and the whole room with a beaming light.

--------------

When his eyes open, the skylight shows the sunny sky but he can already feel his connection to you stronger. The brilliance you bore shines beautifully in him like a star he wished to keep hidden for only him to see.

It worked, it worked! There is no need for him to be wary or envious of you for claiming to be so close to the creator anymore. In fact, you were a sign specifically designed for someone like him. A sign that the creator had not grown complacent in simply watching Teyvat, you were now showing interest in coming back soon. And through you, he can find out details about the creator that were kept secret all these millennia.

A wide and joyful grin is bared with obsession tangling within it. He turns his head to where you stood and his smile drops abruptly when all he's greeted with is an empty spot.

He built this temple for him and the creator to enjoy in privacy due to his possessive nature born from his dragon lineage, yet the sight of Y/N who up and vanished after fulfilling their duty struck his core like the abyssal gunk that used to constantly corrupt his body.

You may have left, you may think that he wouldn't treat you, a fellow devoted servant well due to his earlier behavior. And he understands that, he truly does but that simply means he has to rectify his mistake before it's too late. You were a mere human while him, a god.

Finding you before any terrible consequences from his mistakes won't take too long.

-------------------

Unaware of the dragon's changing tune, you eye the Dragon-Queller tree from outside the temple with interest. After all the work you've done thus far, indulging yourself with a nice close up of the magnificent landmark would be a good treat for yourself.

This one took a while and it was edited by the same jerk. I really hope all the work was worth it and that the next part can be done faster. But as my college is starting this early Sep, it might be even longer. Genshin's lore is a hot mess so I tried my best to keep it simple while touching on the important parts. All the lore I put in is almost completely accurate. If you don't include the sagau parts. If your name is italic then that means I couldn't tag you. I manually put everyone so hopefully this fixes the notifications problems. Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0

#whisp's amateur work #genshin impact #genshin sagau #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau oracle au #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere zhongli #sagau #yandere morax #yandere rex lapis

1K notes · View notes

tiredfox64 · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, good afternoon, it's my first time doing this XD could you make a gn!lector x trio lin kuei? the brothers showing affection to the reader in their different love languages

Love is Many Things

Prior notes: I did headcanon type of way cause that was just simpler for me to do :P. Hope this is okay for you!

Pairings: Lin Kuei Bros x Gn reader

Warnings ‼️: None now stop contacting me about financial aid!

Bi-Han

Hear me out ladies, gents, and non binaries.

Physical affection!

If he loves you he will be touchy and you better be touchy as well.

He is a touch starved fella you need to at least hold his face.

He will hold you but that is also out of possession.

Sit on his lap, go ahead, don’t be shy.

Fine he’ll drag you on. Don’t tell him you are too heavy he doesn’t want to hear it.

Hugging you from behind while he rest his head on your shoulders, classic move.

He pinches. Yeah…what do you mean what do I mean?

If there is any part of you that is squishy (cheeks, thigh, arm) he pinches it but not on purpose. It’s in the manner like a grandma coming to squeeze your face but she does it too harshly.

Cuddles in bed, no you may not leave. Unless you are bleeding or need to use the bathroom then you can leave.

If he is holding your hand he will start to lightly rub his thumb over your hand.

He’s a man of action not words so take his lovin in physical form.

Kuai Liang

Words of affirmation!

I have a feeling sometimes he is poetic with his words.

Whispers in your ear as you fall asleep. Tell you how fantastic you are and how lucky he is to have you in his life.

“Death can never separate us. You are mine and I am yours. We are eternally together. It is our destiny.”

If he is far from you he will send letters.

I just know he has decent cursive. Not good just decent.

Compliments you on everything.

He will always find a way to compliment your looks. It could be something simple like your hair is glorious to your eyebrows are well kept.

If you have any skills he will compliment that to.

He encourages anything and everything you do. Go into a hobby that may seem strange to him but if it makes you happy go right ahead.

He is always willing to talk to you whether it be an issue in the relationship or just something you want to say that seems important.

Communication is key he makes that a big point. Tell him if there is anything wrong. He will tell you if something is wrong.

You will have a personalized nickname that fits you. You feisty? Fire lily! You happy? Sunflower! You angry? Ember! He will always add ‘his’ before it.

Tomas

Gift Giving!

We don’t know where he gets the money to purchase everything for you, he might be stealing.

It starts off simple with giving you a smooth rock like a penguin does.

It elevates to bouquets, crystals, food, etc.

The max is when he is buying you everything you love or even take a glance at.

Oh so you like Hello Kitty? BAM! Hawaiian Hello Kitty plushie the size of your bed. A Lego fan huh? BOOM! Millennium falcon set.

It’s easier to accept it because if you don’t he gives you that sad face that crushes your soul.

He will bring you something back from whatever mission he is on. Again that could be a smooth stone or a vintage watch. Whatever he can scavenge for.

He always has this wide grin on his face when he hands you a gift or when he tries to hide it behind his back.

Sorry not sorry you’re gaining relationship weight because he keeps buying you food.

He likes buying you clothes. Some of his choice seems to be more for him than you wink wink nudge nudge.

He’ll be asking you nonstop if you need something so he can buy it for you.

“I saw it and thought of you.” That’s the best thing to hear.

All of em

I’m not done yet.

Ooo someone stop me I never stop with having all of them.

As a combined effort they do acts of service.

Of course they are going to protect their precious partner. If someone even scratched you they would be in a ditch.

Heaven forbid you get sick, they gonna take care of you in every way they can. You need some Vic’s vaporub?

You tired after the long day? Let them draw you a bath and get you some nice clothes before putting you to bed.

They’ll cook for you. Well, Kuai Liang and Tomas will. Bi-Han got agitated one time cause he burned his finger on the handle and ended up throwing the pan out the window. Never again.

Surprise dates! Yippie!

Sigh I’m involving children again.

They are all helping out with the kids. It’s okay to take a shower they will watch over them.

I’m counting a group cuddle as an act of service. It would be service to me.

After notes: I think I might post my oc real soon. I know I’ve done it before and I end up deleting it but I’ll try to keep it up next time. Now I need to shower. Adiós!

300 notes · View notes

h0pebloomedfromtheabyss · 1 month ago

Text

(please read the image captions)

based off of the hints that we received in the manga, I believe that all the demon slayers (especially pillars) were taught about biology, anatomy, treating different wound types, and medicine in general before the establishment of the butterfly mansion.

the biggest proof of this is the water breathers

urokodaki clearly has knowledge about pharmacology as he managed to medicate nezuko into seeing humans as her family. (I haven't found the specific panel unfortunately)

makomo explains the effects of concentration breathing on the human body pretty nicely, proving that she has a pretty good understanding of the respiratory system and gas exchange.

( she would've be 22+ if she was still alive so I think that students might've needed to learn biology to at least some extent in the past.)

giyuu has surprising expertise in medical techniques and wounds

cauterization (what he's doing) is a medical technique that is preformed to close wounds and reduce blood loss by burning, electrocuting, or using chemicals to remove harmful tissues. people genuinely don't realize how impressive this is

the process has countless risks such as nerve damage and burns

their injuries were severe and required special equipment

you need TONS of knowledge about biology to correctly do this

giyuu himself was heavily injured and bore countless wounds

he was barely conscious due to exhaustion

due to the chances of being attacked at any moment, he was on high alert the entire time

more info about the technique (again)

so basically, this dude managed to preform a surgical procedure (which has severe side effects if done wrong) on himself and tanjiro with no medical equipment besides gauze (he literally had to use a chipped blade) without interfering with other injuries while bearing severe wounds himself in a dangerous battle zone where he could be attacked at any moment in what appears to be minutes AND he treated their injuries so well, it didn't impact them while fighting muzan later.

so as difficult as it might be to accept this, giyuu has ...braincells

[another detail: notice how tanjiro, despite being gravely wounded countless times before, is shocked when giyuu tells him how he treated his wounds? after the butterfly estate was formed, slayers probably didn't feel the need to learn medical knowledge anymore which made them kind of ignorant. unlike tanjiro, giyuu has been in the corps before the butterfly mansion was formed so he definitely had to learn how to at least treat deadly wounds]

murata (our glorious lord and savior) also seems to possess knowledge on how to treat wounds

despite there so many people he could've gone too, giyuu specifically asks murata to take care of tanjiro's injuries. murata has also been in the corps before the butterfly estate was created so he probably also had to learn something and what solidifies this is the selection.

in the selection, giyuu got seriously injured and lost consciousness and when he woke up, murata was there. so the reason giyuu gave tanjiro to murata might be because he aided in treating him before.

extra details I also noticed

after fighting the uppermoons, tengen's wives treated him pretty well. this seems to stem from the fact that they used to be ninjas so by that logic, tengen himself also knows some medical stuff

I suppose that I wrote this because I have seen so many people say that without the estate, the corps wouldn't survive like that's literally against canon. the butterfly estate was three to four years ago unlike the corps which has been surviving for hundreds of years. this makes me wish that the estate didn't exist because we could've seen the demon slayers learn how to treat their wounds and shit. I might add more to this post because I find it the topic interesting.

please let me know if there are other characters who also seem to possess medical knowledge that I forgot to include.

45 notes · View notes

shoutydwarf · 7 months ago

Text

Veilguard ending spoilers

It's so hard for me to talk about how I feel about Solas because on one hand, there's great potential in his arc, but on the other, bioware has completely butchered that in such a profound way that I don't care to look past the hiccups to enjoy him.

First, he's race locked. This really doesn't help to contest the idea that he's a supremacist. If it was truly a time crunch issue where they added it so late they couldn't add the other races, but knew at the time what Solas was and what he meant to the plot - why, on gods green fucking earth, was it included at all? Because they spend the whole next game trying really hard to convince you he's not just an ages old racist stuck in his ways, only to not just have race locked him but to hide his most egregious act, of which he committed against a certain race he's known to be racist towards.

You'll be hard pressed to catch a certain type of solavellan, which encompasses the majority of them, even saying the word titan. The part that baffles me is you'll also be hard pressed to hear SOLAS HIMSELF saying it in game. If I'm recalling correctly, I only heard him say it one singular time outside of the mural memories. At the very end of the game.

There is zero acknowledgement on his part of what he did, at least not in any meaningful way. The orb that the evanuris made their foci out of that Solas says is an elven artifact? Titan heart. The dagger he made? Titan blood. The empire of Arlathan? Founded on the blood and genocide of titans. And I mean that in the most literal sense that I can. All of their godly powers that they used to create their empire was pulled from the well of titan souls they locked within the Golden City.

It's fucking poetic at this point. They silenced the titans so good and well that it seems not even Solas remembers what his glorious kingdom of old cost. It's even funnier if you stand in front of him as a Cadash or a dwarf!Rook.

This man they're trying SO HARD to beat into you around every corner that he's so so sad, he's so so full of regret and sorrow, he's so depressed and anguished over his deeds, not once acknowledges in a way that matters that what he and the evanuris did to the titans was wrong. And if he doesn't feel remorse over that in any way that's loud enough for him to talk about it as he does the veil, how the fuck am I supposed to believe he's sorry for all the other things?

Weekes has admitted to literally, somehow, casually forgetting dwarves don't dream when they were writing the scene of the Haven dream with Solas and the Inquisitor. Add this to how many lines dwarf!rook has of comparing things to dreams, casting necromancy spells etc and it becomes pretty clear that they never intended to afford this genocided race lore reveal the gravity it needed. They just needed it as a minor plot device in a greater elven narrative that completely, utterly, 100% unravels the message they're desperate to send with Solas. They really said to solavellans don't worry, kittens, he committed a really heinous, unforgivable act that he's not taking any strides to repair but we're not going to have him talk about it at all so you can continue ignoring it and scrolling tiktok during Harding's questline. And yall said okay ❤️ yay ❤️.

And no, you can't argue that his goal was always to tear down the Veil to restore immortality/magic to the elves AND wake up the titans. Because those are two separate things, and one of those things he never once said he was doing. He doesn't need the titans awake to take down the Veil and restore Arlathan. In fact, he very much needs them to stay tranquil, otherwise he'd finally get the ass whooping he fucking deserves when my dwarves not only attack his unguarded kneecaps with hammers but start chucking rocks at him and booing loudly.

This is why he's irredeemable for me. This is why I wanted an ending where I can kill him, not because I hate him as a concept or even as a character, but because his writing is such a fucking joke. And putting him into a sock and banging him against the counter is the only valid response to such a cosmic fumble because it's the only option that matches its freak in being so ridiculous. It's bad writing, it's weak, cheap, lazy, and directly crumbles the entire foundation.

While the ending of having him spend eternity soothing the dreams of the titans is excellent in form, because although it doesn't show him taking accountability it does show him taking steps to repair the damage he did to them, I don't ever get to establish, as a dwarf Rook or even just as a player, that THAT is why I want him to do this. Nobody says, "Make this right by earning the forgiveness of your first victim." Instead, for Solas, it's like, "well, since I have to go there anyway, I might as well. I guess. Whatever."

All this while they're in that AMA saying shit like "two groups are more affected than any other by the evanuris - the elves and (wait for it) Tevinter."

A fucking joke, I tell you.

#solas critical #solavellan critical #veilguard critical #da4 spoilers #veilguard spoilers #this is why the trick dagger ending is my canon LMAOO its the only ending dumb enough to match the primitive monkey brain of the rest of th #writing

115 notes · View notes

lazyscience · 2 months ago

Text

so I just knocked out The Pitt in a weekend (help me i am not ok) and what a glorious trainwreck. which way to the whittaker trash party? I want the weird queerplatonic santos-whittaker playing smash or pass: pitt colleagues edition (amusing since while she is 95 percent about the ladies she has a couple straight 'hall passes' and whittaker somewhat defiantly calls himself an 'equal opportunity slut,' to her amusement. (silly snippet behind the break, please don't report me to emily gould)

"Don't call yourself that," Trinity kicked him in the ankle, "until you mean it."

"How do you know I don't? Maybe I paid my way through med school sucking dick." Whittaker stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth to cover the inner flinch at saying it, and then made a face. "Okay, seriously, please add unpopped popcorn to the grocery list, I can make better popcorn than this cheaper."

Trinity sneered and took a gulp of her drink. "What, Martha Stewart, SkinnyPop isn't good enough for you? And while I would admire the work ethic, when would you have had time to study? Pitt tuition for outstate is 65K a year, BEFORE housing."

"Divided by 300, is roughly 215," Whittaker said, reached for his Coke. "Not enough hours to put much of a dent in clinicals."

"Shut the fuck up," Trinity blinked.

Whittaker sighed, low and long. "Santos, do you honestly think I would have been crashing in the decomm wing if I was pulling down $300 a pop blow jobs? Also, have you seen me?"

Trinity wrinkled her nose. "While you make a point about the crash pad, yes, I have - I mean, I'm not a gay man but the clean-cut blond farmboy twink with big sad eyes, ex-seminarian turned medical student? Pretty, smart and devoted to his fellow man? I definitely know gay guys who would probably pay that and consider it an act of philanthropy."

"Charity," Whittaker curled his lip, finished off his drink. "Thanks."

"Believe me, nobody ever sticks their dick in charity. They might think they're doing the recipient a favor, but they don't do it unless they think they stand to gain." Trinity tipped a bit more rum into both of their glasses. "Pour me some more Coke."

Dennis topped them both off, took another sip. "Harsh, but probably fair as I think about it. Robby. Dr. Robby would probably pity fuck if he thought the recipient really needed it."

"He is awfully Catholic coded for being Jewish. Speaking of, how about our fearless Captain? Smash or pass? As if I had to ask - don't worry, you're not obvious. Unless you're ex-Catholic, in which case we can smell the saint worship."

"That is exactly NOT what I like about him, and ...yeah, smash. I admit it."

"Oh? Do tell. Chisme, Huckleberry. I neeeeeed it."

He thought about the unexpectedly small ball Robby had curled himself into on the floor of the morgue, the broken sound of his voice, the way he'd scrabbled as desperately as if he'd been holding fragments of himself together. The way he'd gathered himself up with that little shove to keep Dennis at arm's-length as if being touched might have done more harm than good, have driven the broken pieces of his armor into the bleeding flesh beneath--

--gasped almost as he remembered to breathe, shook his head. "It's not how good he is. It's how hard he has to try to be."

Trinity lifted her head from the back of the couch, her gaze sharpening on him like the hope of an exceptionally interesting procedure, but mercifully she didn't pry. "Interesting," was all she said. "Langdon?"

Dennis wrinkled his nose. "Pass. He gives me clean-cut-straight-passing-student-council vibes. The kind who's thirsty when you're alone but very "You People - Not That There's Anything Wrong With That" in public."

Trinity nodded. "Same." She was quiet for a moment as if struggling with how she wanted to phrase something, then shook her head. "Same. What about Mel?"

"Hmm. Attractive but in a Serious Commitment sort of way. I have the feeling Mel doesn't do casual, and at this moment in my life, I have no breathing space for anything but, so pass."

"Dennis, the game is technically just would you or wouldn't you - but no, I get it," Trinity said with a sigh. "I bet it'd be hot having her tell you exactly what she likes. She'd totally do it too."

"So that'd be smash for you, then. Now who doesn't have time to do anything else? Mel, Garcia, Reade, Collins, Kim - ah, we haven't gotten to McKay. Smash or pass."

"Pass. I...I know I'm not good, with people." She was quiet for a minute. "I mean, I'm - it's a work in progress. But McKay no. Big no. It's like a funhouse mirror, the shit I don't like about myself is all I can see. I know that's hypocritical as fuck."

"No it's not. It's smart," Dennis said, nudging the popcorn closer to her. "People who remind us of ourselves, we think we know what they should have figured out. And whether that's true or not it usually ends badly."

"Who ended badly for you?" Trinity said quietly, setting the bowl on the coffee table, eyes veiled and far away.

"Aforementioned clean cut student council type. Resulted in me trying to pray the gay away for a few semesters. I do actually enjoy women, you know? Like, I have had relationships with, including sleeping with them, that made us both happy and I just, I really thought I could make that work. I possibly still could, with the right woman. Maybe I just haven't met her yet."

"Maybe. Me, I was pretty much entirely pretending with all two of the guys I tried to date before giving up. I did eventually come out to my family. It was...not as big a deal as I was expecting, honestly. Which is good. I was braced for it to be a great big thing."

"Good. That's good." Dennis closed his eyes. "Thank you, Trin. For taking me home with you."

"You have promised me popcorn. And you already fixed the icky thing the second bathroom shower does. Just keep pulling your weight." He heard her getting up, felt her gently nudge him. "Go on. Go to bed. More things to work on in the morning."

#the pitt #genfic #snippet #dennis whittaker #trinity santos

41 notes · View notes

bubblebear4life · 5 months ago

Text

A/N: A little fanfic for @the-spam-specialist The Ringmaster's Written Reminders ^^

I was going to write some angst, but I figured you'd have that covered in your later stories. Caine and Pomni fluff it is then ^^

~~~

What A Silly Thing

Caine is in desperate need of some snuggles, but Pomni is currently on an adventure. Surely it wouldn't hurt to summon her this one time... Right?

It was a quiet morning in the tent today. The artificial light from the digital sun streamed through Caine's office window, casting a warm golden glow throughout the room.

The little energetic Ringmaster slowly spun in his office chair while excitedly planning tomorrow's glorious new adventure. Reviewing his trusted list of each circus member, Caine considered everything he needed to include to address the humans' needs.

Let's see: he'll add a friendly butterfly NPC guide for Ragatha and Kinger, a relaxing atmosphere for Pomni, a dancing puzzle for Gangle, and maybe even a tavern for Jax and Zooble. He isn't going to allow them to purchase any alcohol, though. That would be against the rules! Haha!

After a few minutes of checking his list Caine hummed, thoughtfully tapping the end of his pen against his jaw. He had already sent his scrumdiddlyumptious-lemon-flavored-cucumbers on today's adventure only an hour ago, and he was already starting to feel a little... lonely.

He absolutely loved planning his adventures- don’t get him wrong! They were his passion! However, he had grown so accustomed to planning them while the others were around. The sound of their usual shenanigans had become a comforting background noise against the constant hum of the tent.

After Caine started to befriend the humans and join them on their adventures, the circus tent felt different when he was alone. It felt... eerie. Hauntingly large, even. Like the whole tent could swallow him up at any moment.

The thought sent a shive through his code.

Caine's large, cartoonish eyes nervously flickered around the room. When did his breathing become so heavy? Why was he shaking? Were the walls always this close to him?

What was the bad taste in his mouth?

Caine looked down and realized he had accidentally bitten off the end of his pen. Now, he had ink all over his hand and in his mouth. He gagged, the bitter taste of ink worsening his current predicament.

The usually composed ringmaster shot up out of his chair, sending it crashing back against the wall. He had to get out of here. It was too much. Everything was too much. He threw the pen down, not caring about the mess he made, and zips out of his office and into the safety of Kinger's pillow fort.

Caine whimpers softly as he curls up against the many pillows and blankets littering the floor of the fort. Logically, he knew he was being silly. There was nothing here to fear! The Amazing Digital Circus is a perfectly safe place for all ages! Still, he couldn't shake off the panic that had settled in his digital heart.

Being in the pillow fort did little to ease Caine's nevers. He needed someone else to be here with him. He couldn't summon his buttery-toaster-strudels at this time! They were busy on an adventure! Caine sniffles, feeling something wet fall against his gloved hand.

He is crying.

Caine gasps, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes. This was silly! It was all so silly! He tried to reason with himself.

If it was silly, then why couldn't he just stop!?

Suddenly, a little reminder popped up into his head. With his vision blurred with tears, he quickly pulled out his list, the long parchment crinkling as he scanned for what he was looking for.

Ah-ha!

Do not summon people unless it was an emergency.

This- was an emergency, right? Caine hiccups as another sob shook his body.

This was definitely an emergency.

With shaking hands, Caine snaps, summoning the first person that came to his mind.

That person happened to be the anxious jester herself, Pomni.

Pomni, completely taken aback, paused to observe her surroundings before her gaze settled on the very being that had summoned her.

It didn't take long for her to reach his side. She held her hands out toward him, stopping just short of making contact, uncertain of what he needed in that moment. "Caine!? Wh-what's wrong?!" she asked, trying to keep herself from panicking as well.

"I- I don't know!" Caine wailed back, immediately flinging himself at Pomni and clinging to her. "Make it stop!"

"Oof-" Pomni flinched when Caine clung to her, but she forced herself to relax and immediately wrapped her arms around the little AI. He needed her to be strong right now. She rubbed his back, hoping it would help soothe him. "Can you tell me how this started?"

Caine blinked, running through his memory files to try and figure out this mess.

It seems his memory already wiped away the incident.

Not being able to remember only stressed himself out more.

"I c-can't remember! I can't remember anything, p-pomni!" The AI clung on tighter to the girl. "Wh-why is this happening!?" Caine's voice glitched with his sobs.

Pomni had to think fast. What helps her calm down from panic attacks? "Um... Hey, can you try taking some deep breaths with me?" Asked the jester, taking Caine's hand in hers. She took a deep breath, waiting for Caine to follow.

Caine took a breath only to immediately choke on a sob. "I-I c-can't!"

"That's ok, you're doing good, Caine. Let's try again." Pomni took another deep breath, squeezing Caine's hand encouragingly.

The Ringmaster managed to take a small breath, and after a few more attempts, his breathing began to even out. Pomni continued to rub his back and give his encouragement the entire time.

About half an hour later, Caine was feeling a little better. "Thank you, Pomni. I'm- sorry I took you away from the adventure for something so... Silly." He whispered, looking away with large guilty eyes.

Pomni stroked his head, the bells from his tophat ringing softly. She gave his a stern, yet concerned look. "It's not silly, Caine. You can call me whenever you need help." She lifted his lower jaw to look him in his sad puppy dog eyes. "I promise you aren't bothering me, or anyone else. Your feelings matter just as much as ours. Do you understand." It was more of a statement than a question.

Caine sniffles again, slowly nodding his head. "Thank you again, Pomni."

"Anytime, Caine." Without thinking, the jester placed a small kiss to his top jaw

Caine froze. The feeling was foreign, but had a nice feeling to it.

"Caine? Are you alright?" Pomni was afraid she broke him.

Caine merely hummed sleepily, tucking his denture head under her chin. "Shut down now...gnight." His words were slurred from the sudden exhaustion that hit.

Pomni quietly chuckles, not wanting to disturb him while he shuts down. She wouldn't say it out loud, but Caine can be pretty cute sometimes. She doesn't blame him for being tired. She remembers being exhausted after panic attacks, too.

"Goodnight, Caine." She whispers for only the darkness of the pillow fort to hear.

Her response was an AI equivalent to a snore.

~~~

A/N: Oopies doodles. Guess we got some angst after all~

Caine is still covered in ink, it's just too dark in the fort to see it. Pomni helps him clean up once she notices it

57 notes · View notes

ixiot-ghostrebel · 10 months ago

Note

i don't really mind what character you use but if you are comfortable with it could you add a one sided crush the reader has on the rover (female) and jinhsi also I'm not sure how you feel about giving kids trauma so sorry if it makes you uncomfortable but can you make the reader come from a bad family or had something really horrific happen in front of them {like a house fire or someone they like getting hurt} leading them to being overly protective of the playable characters

-from a certain witch from a far off land

Alr I'll do Jinhsi and Rover...However. No romance—as your original request was a kid/minor Reader. Ik there's nothing wrong with teen romance, but my rules have stated: all children are strictly platonic.

(PS - Anon ur name is so long 😭 how can I remember this glorious title?)

Teen!Reader, the...OTHER Sentinel of Jinzhou

You get the gist of it—you were minding your own business, enjoying the content of a very cool game...And boom, magical transfer into the game. You're freaking out, and next thing you know...

Welcome, you're god now. Rejoice in your own presence.

Did I mention that you've also bumped into two very special people yet? No? Too late, I just did :)

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Rover

The first time Rover met you, Rover felt 1000 times older. Like, to Jue, the draconic Sentinel of Jinzhou, they was the Arbiter General that practically helped establish the civilization. With you in the picture...and your physique...

Yes, you make them feel like a very ancient elder. Someone get this Rover a walking chair or a normal sitting chair. Maybe even a doctor, they might pass away from heart failure.

All jokes aside, Rover really gets not wanting to be special. Alright, this person's been there—everyone around them were hot on their heels the moment they opened their eyes, and that's not even mentioning the Black Shores, Jinzhou's government, the Fractsidus...

"No worries, [Y/N]. I won't tell a soul unless you're ready to tell others first." They keep your secret of being the other Sentinel of Jinzhou. Did I mention that their warm smile also gives them bonus points? They make you feel protected, and they quite literally will protect you should the situation present itself dangerous.

Also, if you want to talk to Jue but need moral support, look no further. Just ask Rover. They did it once, they'll do it again.

All in all? 10/10, this Rover ain't gonna be snitching you out to the city over their dead body.

Jinhsi

The first time she met you and realized you were the other Sentinel of Jinzhou, she was evidently shocked. You were barely an adult—you had both the mentality and the physique of a teenager! You were almost like her, in a sense, and little to nothing at all like Jue...except for maybe the power you wield.

She isn't exactly sure what to do at the beginning. She wants to bring you to the City Hall, but you were only a teenager, both in mind and heart. She didn't want to restrict you to responsibilities you barely even knew of yourself. In a case, you were almost like Rover in that way—maybe you forgot your memories of your past as a Sentinel. Or maybe you were reborn as a human Sentinel.

Regardless of the many possibilities of what to do to help you, Jinhsi's first step never came anywhere near to revealing to all of Jinzhou of the whereabouts of their other Sentinel, supposedly lost to time. You needed time to get used to everything, and she can provide that time. After all, nobody knew you were back (yet).

"Trust me, Sentinel [Y/N], I will ensure your safety as much as I possibly can. You are safe in Jinzhou." Jinhsi smiles a reassuring smile. "The people of Jinzhou will always welcome newcomers with open arms, regardless of their upbringing. We will continue to uphold our traditions, for this is something we, as a nation, are proud to continue."

Safe to say, you'll be in good hands. Such a shame though you'll have to be the one to smack Jinhsi around a few times to make sure she doesn't overwork herself. Just because she's supposedly an adult doesn't mean it's okay, okay? (Team up with Sanhua, and you'll probably win)

No matter what you choose (leave or stay) to do in Jinzhou, Jinhsi will make sure you are safe and free from your supposed bonds of being their Sentinel. After all, you do want to experience life at its finest, right?

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Man, I really need to catch up with Wuwa's 1.1 story SOBBING. I was so excited for Xiangli Yao and Zhezhi too lol—ugh, my motivation really just keeps decreasing bro. I'll try to catch up as soon as possible! Hopefully I'll do it soon— (Watch me accidentally take 30 years just to catch up sobbing)

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#wuthering waves brainrot #platonic wuthering waves #wuthering waves x you #wuthering waves x y/n #self aware wuthering waves #wuwa rover #wuwa rover x reader #rover x reader #female rover #male rover #jinhsi x reader #wuwa jinhsi #platonic relationships

113 notes · View notes

akuma-tenshi · 4 days ago

Text

currently, richard sterling has exactly one exclusive emote ((leaks notwithstanding)): his dice roll emote.

and he does it wrong.

somewhat long post ahead:

richard's dice roll is relatively simple. he tosses the die, performs the sign of the cross, and covers his mouth as he watches it land.

on the surface, it's fitting for him. nothing to point out. except for one little thing: the hand he's using to perform the sign.

the sign of the cross is a prayer performed often in several branches of christianity. it's a pretty significant gesture, and richard gets it mostly correct; while he's doing it somewhat quickly / casually, he performs it properly for the most part. touches his forehead, his chest, and both shoulders. but what's significant about this is that he's using his left hand.

there's a historical bias in a lot of cultures against left-handedness, but for the sake of this post we'll just talk about it in christianity. i'm not going to go into detail as most of it isn't relevant to this post, but left-handedness is considered unfavourable and even sinful. for this reason, the sign of the cross is to be performed with the right hand.

emily performs the gesture properly in her mourn emote. slowly, methodically, with her right hand. this is, as far as i'm aware, the only other animation in the game in which the sign of the cross is performed ((though if i'm wrong, do lmk!! i highly doubt i know every single emote or animation ever in this game lmao))

so, where am i going with all this?? what's the point?? well, it's just that the fact that richard performs this very important sign incorrectly.

on a surface level, from purely a character design standpoint, it makes sense for richard to perform this sign with his left hand. his left hand is the one he wears his gauntlet on, making it a better hand to use for bigger gestures like this. there's more interest there than if he were using his right hand, which is bare save for his ring. and that's why i'm partially convinced this decision is on accident.

but take a second to look at it from a character standpoint. richard's whole story depicts him taking on the role of this glorious knight, which is a role historically entrenched in religion, especially christianity, when in reality, he's... not that. he's pretending to be a knight, this holy figure, someone he's not. and when we see him performing a traditional holy sign, he performs it incorrectly, with the hand traditionally portrayed as more "evil".

the fact that there's an emote that's been in the game for years that depicts the sign of the cross being performed correctly only adds to my belief that this could very well be intentional. richard is a character with so much effort and care put into him; while, yes, him performing a traditionally right-handed gesture with his left hand could again, just be because his left hand is the more interesting one in his design, it could also just. very well be another small intentional detail in a character filled with them.

#i don't know how to end this so it just kinda drops off. sorry about that. i'm tired #anyway idk how much of this is common knowledge bc i grew up like kinda sorta half-catholic #so i know the lore of the sign but i don't know. how many people would know outside of the faith #((i am not catholic anymore. stopped believing a long time ago and now thinking about it makes me anxious #but my dad's side of the family is pretty heavily cath so i grew up with that influence))#akumanalysis #idv #identity v #richard sterling #idv knight #not tagging emily she's just kinda There #love her tho

22 notes · View notes

astayinwonderland · 1 year ago

Text

Silk and Fire - Chapter 5

pairing: namjoon x f.reader , jungkook x f. reader

summary: you try to spend all of your time with namjoon but things go south once jungkook shows up at your house

word count: 3.3k

genre: romance | drama | smut +18 MDNI

status: ongoing

You can read about this story and other chapters here.

warnings: use and mentions of alcohol, cheating, consensual intercourse, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (pls don't), cursing, mentions of jealousy, reader goes to a bar, LGBTQ+ themes.

It’s been two weeks.

Two weeks since you’ve seen or heard from Jungkook, or anyone from the group, even Camille. You decided you should fill your days and nights with that one person, your one and only, your significant other, Namjoon. It was a mistake to let Jungkook trap you in Hoseok’s guest bathroom like that. You should have never let him touch you, the way you basically melted under his touch was wrong. Very wrong.

So now here you are, feeling another man’s touch. Your man. Lazy make-out sessions with Namjoon are a slice of heaven on Earth. The way his fingertips dance on your skin creating patterns along your arms and thighs is mesmerising and you are drunk on him. His essence, his smell, his lips on yours… Everything about Namjoon is warm and safe, it’s home.

The sun barely creeps into your shared bedroom, your curtain blinds blocking most of the light. Namjoon smiles against your lips as your hands palm his very evident erection.

“What’s with you lately?” he asks but continues kissing you.

“Mmmmm… nothing. What do you mean?” you lie, you know exactly what he means.

“You are all over me lately. Am I being rewarded for something?”

“… being the best boyfriend ever,” you reply and kiss him deeply. Not letting him question anything else.

Namjoon surrenders to you, his strong hands slightly pushing you down to the bed. Pepper kisses land on your jaw, your neck and shoulders. He strips you off your pyjamas and the look on his face when you are completely naked under him is glorious. Lips curved into a smile, his adoring eyes turn dark with lust as he moves his mouth to your core.

Namjoon starts slowly and temptingly, his dangerous tongue licking your entrance, taking his time. He goes all the way to your clit, subtly sucking on it and then his attention is returned to your needy cunt. He hums in approval as he tastes your arousal, your folds already covered in it. It’s the most perfect nectar to his lips.

“I wanna drown right here,” he dips his tongue inside your warm cunt. His tongue, expert on how to make you cum again and again, goes in and out of you as his nose presses on your clit with every movement.

Namjoon spits in your hole, a combination of his saliva and your juices make squelching sounds as he adds two fingers inside you.

“Fuck, Joonie…” you let a breathy moan out.

With his fingers curling inside you, the tension in your lower stomach grows and your pussy clenches around his fingers.

“Not yet, babe, I want you to cum with me.”

Namjoon slips his fingers out of you making you whine at your now empty cunt. But that ends when he licks his fingers and then places them over your parted lips. Your tongue mimics what he did before, however, you end up sucking your boyfriend’s fingers, tasting yourself in the process.

You take off his boxer shorts and your entire body seems to be on fire when Namjoon’s cock springs free. His red tip begging for attention and he is hard, you don’t want him inside you, you need him inside you.

Spreading your legs you welcome him to enter you. This hand taps your thigh for you to wrap your legs around him. The tip of his cock grazes your clit and you are done with the teasing. Taking the matter into your own hands, you reach Namjoon’s rock-hard cock and you guide it to your entrance. Both of you moan as he completely sinks into you.

Deep and slow, his cock glides in but not entirely out of you, keeping your cunt full– so full of him. The feeling is so good, so pleasurable, it is hard for you to form a coherent sentence. Your full focus is grabbing Namjoon’s ass, pulling him as close to you as possible. You want to feel every single inch of him. How a veiny cock pulsates inside you, making you scream for it, scream for him.

Your hands, desperate now, reach for Namjoon’s hair, pulling him into yet another kiss that goes from sweet to sloppy. His lips and tongue land on your jawline, chin, and back to your lips as your hips now raise to meet with his. The groans that were once stuck in his throat are now very audible as you both increase the speed at which you chase your climaxes.

“You gonna cum with me, babe? You close?” he says in your ear, his voice incredibly low and hoarse.

“Yesyesyes… make me cum,” you leave little kisses on his neck.

As your climax approaches you shut your eyes, heightening the feeling of your boyfriend’s weight on top of you and the little moans he lets out as he fucks you. Namjoon’s hips thrust hard and as you open your eyes, tears fall. You cry as a string of curses leave your lips, you are cuming, harder than last night. Harder than yesterday and harder than the day before that.

“Babe, fuck– ugh fuckfuck!” Namjoon cums with a muffled moan as he plants kisses to your temple and cheek.

Namjoon looks at you, cock softening, his load buried in you. His lips curve in a smile, eyes again lovingly scanning your face, trying to read your expression. You can’t help but cover your eyes with your hands. You’ve decided to restrict yourself to only interacting with Namjoon these two weeks because he deserves the world. Your little JK thing had to stop. Nevertheless, you can’t shake the thought of the red lingerie set he sent you, which is now hidden in your side of the cupboard.

Guilt makes your skin crawl, but that goes away when after such a mind-blowing orgasm, Namjoon gives you a chaste kiss on the lips. You could stay here forever, but that was not the case.

After a long hot shower together, it dawned on you that you couldn’t stay in this Namjoon bubble forever. Someday you had to face reality and that day was today. Namjoon is going away, on a business trip, and even though your love for him is real, you don’t trust yourself.

“Do you really, really need to go? Can’t you have a video call or something?” you sit on the couch watching as he puts his luggage near the door.

“I do need to go. Only three days ok, babe?” he gives you a smile. That beautiful smile warms your heart and makes you swoon.

“Okay three days,” you reply.

Namjoon walks to you and cups your face. He lets the image of you engrave on his brain for the days he is going to be away. He wishes he were more present, he really cherished these two weeks where it felt like the two of you just started dating, but he just had to leave. So he pulls you into a kiss, firmly pressing his lips to yours.

As you wave goodbye, you feel that heaviness in your chest and you just know it is time to go back to bed. Trying to sleep it off might help, after all, and there is nothing urgent that needs to get done.

Your bed is cold as you climb on it. Has it always been this cold? You make yourself comfortable, putting pillows around you in an attempt to feel less lonely. Blinds now closed, you let yourself sleep, trusting that three days will fly by.

The subconscious never lies and it loves to play tricks on one’s mind, and you are no exception. Your dreams get steamier and you are not exactly aware of what’s going on. There are hands all over your body. One specifically makes its way to your mouth, getting two tattooed fingers in it making you moan as drool starts to fall down your chin. You feel the opposite side of your bed sink at the weight of your new companion.

With your eyes still closed, your hand reaches the body that now lays beside you.

“Jungkook?” your voice is sleepy and tired.

“Jungkook!?” Camille answers perplexed.

Your eyes rapidly open at the sound of your best friend’s voice. A rush of thoughts comes to your head, thinking about how to excuse yourself.

“I– I just…”

“It’s time to stop your personal house arrest. We are going out,” she pats your head and wink.

“Ugh… honestly, Cam, you scared me,” you rub your eyes, trying to fully wake up. It’s been hours since Namjoon left. Where did time go?

“I miss you, I haven’t seen you in forever. I know you miss Joon and all, but we have a date, and people are expecting us,” Camille hops off the bed and starts going through your clothes which hang perfectly neatly on your side of the cupboard.

You decide to get up, there is no fighting Camille. Besides, you could use the distraction.

“Ooh but what do we have here? Oh My God, babes, you got it!”

Your head spins so fast to find Camille with the delicate red lace underwear in her hands. Yes, Jungkook’s gift.

“Ummm, yes,” you lie. “I got it,” you make your way to her and put them back in their hiding place.

“Well, put some makeup on. We leave in 20!”.

________________________________________________________

For the entire cab ride you kept asking Camille what was she up to and she didn’t reveal much. You figured you would go to a bar and she would make you dance your worries away. The good thing is you were actually right, in a way. To your surprise, you were joining two lovely people at the bar.

“So why did you put yourself on house arrest?” with a smirk drawn on his lips he sips his drink.

“She said she just didn’t feel like going out,” Jimin answers Taehyung the same question for the nth time, earning an eye roll from him.

“Okay, okay. But we were looking forward to seeing you! You know you are my favourite,” Taehyung winks at you playfully.

“I thought I was your favourite,” Camille comes back to the table with drinks… 8 shots to be exact. How did she manage to carry these? It will always remain a mystery.

“No, you’re my favourite,” Jimin adds laughing.

Camille sweetly kisses his cheek and then proceeds to give each one of you two shots.

“Don’t ask what’s in them, just drink. Cheers!”

You watch as everyone takes their shots, grateful for this moment where you truly feel blissful. For the first time in days, you don’t feel anxious or guilty. Namjoon has great friends, despite his agitated life. It would be wrong if you ruined everything. You have no idea how you could forgive yourself if you did anything remotely close to breaking that man’s heart. These sober thoughts get mixed with the alcohol in your system as more drinks come to the table.

“Let’s dance?” Taehyung extends his hand to you.

You can feel the alcohol slightly teasing your brain now. The vibration of the music gives you goosebumps, and the lights are a tad bit brighter. Accepting Tehyung’s hand, you are guided by him to the dance floor where other groups of friends and couples are dancing. A couple catches your attention as they seductively make out right in front of you. The two men shamelessly grope their bodies together not minding the crowd around them.

“You know them?” Taehyung’s voice is in your ear now.

“No,” you resume your dancing.

Taehyung keeps his careful eyes on you the entire time, making sure you don’t bump into anyone else. His hands are carefully on your waist as he spins you to the music. You look back at the couple who are not less handsy. The temperature seems to rise by the second when you feel a pair of eyes looking intently. Jimin’s eyes look at you from the table as he takes another shot with Camille. His expressionless face makes you turn to Taehyung.

“Is he… jealous?” you ask.

“He is always jealous, don’t worry,” he laughs. There is a spark in his eyes and now you understand why everyone is so obsessed with these two.

From the distance, you see another girl approach Camille. Are they friends? She seems a bit too handsy.

“Shall we head back?” you ask and Taehyung is already leading the way back to the table.

“...yeah, sorry but I’m engaged,” Camille says a bit too loud showing off her ring. “You’re gorgeous by the way!”

The girl in the pixie haircut apologises and joins a group of people on the dance floor. It seems she does know the hot steamy couple you saw earlier.

“You are getting married and still have people flirt with you,” Jimin says with his eyes glued on Taehyung who pretends to not notice such an intense glare.

“What can I say… I still have it, but I am joining your chosen family forever,” Camille pokes Jimin on the shoulder.

The tension could be cut with a knife now as silence falls over the table. Jimin now looks down, thinking if he should let his intrusive thoughts win, and of course, they do.

“If you had to choose anyone but Yoongi, who would you choose?” he finally says.

You cough in response, not expecting this question at all.

“Hmmmm… between the seven of you?” Camille asks.

“Yes,” Taehyung answers as he leans towards her, getting interested in the new turn the night has taken.

“Well… probably Seokjin–”

“Jin!?” you exclaim.

“Yeah, he is really fun,”

“He is like the complete opposite of Yoongi,” Jimin laughs.

“Well, who would you choose?” Camille asks.

Jimin shakes his head.

“Taehyung should go first. Who?” and there is something in Jimin’s voice that makes you even more intrigued by what Taehyung has to say.

“I’d choose her,” Taehyung puts an arm around you.

Jimin rolls his eyes but smiles at you.

“...from the seven.”

“Maybe Namjoon.”

Your mouth falls open as you turn to Taehyun.

“Really? Namjoon?” you ask quite surprised, to be honest. But Taehyung only gives you a sweet smile.

“Your turn!” Camille says, but you shake your head, which makes everything suddenly spin. The alcohol has caught up with your night.

“C’mon, beautiful. We’ll say it at the same time. Deal?” Jimin encouraged you and although you know they mean no harm, you know this is dangerous territory.

“One… Two… Three…”

“Jungkook,” you blurt out at the same time. Your voice overlaps Jimin’s making him laugh uproarously.

“Huh! Who would have thought?” Camille looks at you impressed. “The tattoos?”

You just cover your face in embarrassment and everyone knows at this point it is time to go home.

__________________________________________________________

The next day came with plenty of things to do around the house and you worked from home. Camille had sent a list of things to help out as part of your Maid of Honour duties, you were more than happy to do these because one, this is your best friend's wedding and you want it to be just as she wants it. Two, it will keep your head from overthinking.

You’ve Facetimeed Namjoon twice already, making sure he confirmed he was coming home tomorrow. It is not the healthiest thing to be so dependent on him, you already know that. But the fact that he is away is almost making you physically ill.

Your phone rings and you’re sure it’s him. As you reach out to answer:

Incoming Call: JK

You have to be fucking kidding me.

You put the phone down and walk to the kitchen to get water. He can’t be calling you right now. What the hell does he want?

The ringing of your doorbell startles you as it echoes around the house. You don’t need to ask or check who it is, you already know. As you open the door he turns around to meet you. His hair was long enough to be put in a ponytail. He shows you a big smile which is erased as soon as you don’t return it.

“Hi,” his voice is small, almost completely muted but the motor of his car that is parked outside.

“You shouldn’t be here, Jungkook–” You reach to close the door but he stops you.

“Please, I just want to talk. I need to show you something,” his eyes pleading. You try to avoid looking into them, you know you would say yes if you did.

“I don’t know… it’s very very late and it looks like it might rain.”

“It will take 10 minutes I promise…”

_______________________________________________

A 6-ish minute car ride later, you find yourself at the top of a little hill in your neighbourhood. You had no idea it had such an interesting view of the city lights. It even had two wooden benches for people to sit down and admire the view. You could easily drive by and not pay much attention to it, but the way the trees aligned in this specific part of the hill, created a natural arch that blocked some of the street lights. This made the spot perfect for stargazing as well.

“Why are we here?”

Jungkook is the first to sit on the bench, but you don’t follow—the greater the distance the better.

“I wanted to show you my favourite place on this side of the city. I used to come here often to think or when I couldn’t sleep… I– also owe you an apology.”

He stayed silent for a minute, gathering his thoughts, and trying to find the right words to say.

“I am sorry for–” but Jungkook stops himself and for the first time in the night you look at him in the eye.

“Actually… I am not sorry. Like I am, but I am not. Not really. I have always loved and respected my friends, but when I want something– someone… I fight for it.”

“Jungkook?” you take a step back as his fingers brush yours. Jungkook stands up to have a better look at you.

Little droplets of water start to fall from the sky. They land on your head, your shoulders, and suddenly everywhere. Probably a heavenly warning that you should run far away from this man, but your feet seem to be glued to the ground as his fingers now intertwine with yours. With his eyes staring into yours he raises your hand to his lips as he starts planting kisses on the back of your hand.

“Jungkook… no–” you whisper. But even though these are the words that leave your mouth, your body doesn’t obey.

Your free hand caress his cheek, an invitation for him to come closer. Rain pours now, cold, hard, the raindrops almost hurting you, but neither of you seems to care. So you firmly plant a kiss on his lips. You hear him moan as his lips part to kiss you as he has wanted to kiss you since he first saw you stuck on those revolving doors.

His hands on your back pull you closer to him, he wants to cover you with his body. You finally parted your lips for him. You don’t think. Everything happens so fast, your heartbeat quickens as you get to taste him, to feel almost consumed by him. Jungkook prays his will is strong enough to wait until you ask him to fuck you. But now his hand is on your neck, giving him better access to deepen the kiss.

The heavy rain muffles the little cry that escapes you, but sinning never felt so good, it shouldn’t feel so good. Tiny sparks of electricity course through your veins and it seems you’ve never felt this alive before. The kiss breaks, leaving you both breathless, speechless. Until–

“Do that again,” you say.

----------------------------------------

a/n: This is pure ✨fiction✨- this took me a while but I truly had a blast writing it. lmk if you want to be in the taglist.

taglist: @paramedicnerd004 | @darkuni63 | @bangtans-momma | @diorh0seokie

262 notes · View notes

bean-market-art · 4 months ago

Text

梅が香を...

This is my end of an art trade with @kalolasfantasyworld! Working on this was an absolute BLAST (as you can tell from the five page Google Doc of explanations for all the stuff I did not need to add lmao) and I had so much fun with it! Thank you for doing the art trade with me Lola :D

Full explanation of history and themes below:

Historical Overview

The Edo period (1600-1867) is pretty prominent in modern culture, and is often romanticized as one of THE periods of Japanese cultural significance. Hinokuni (Land of the Sun) in Black Clover is based off of Edo-period Japan, or at least the late Muromachi pd.

You might know this as a time of samurai, ninja, etc. However, a fair amount of that is completely wrong. Edo period society was carefully structured to maintain peace. There was no war, and therefore virtually no work to be done for warriors – save a few rebellions, samurai were basically unemployed. However, since all of the power was in the hands of the military, they remained at the top of the rigid hierarchy established by the shogunate. This ended up putting the samurai in a strange situation: they grew more and more financially destitute, but still kept their high status as society slowly broke down over 200 years.

In the mid 1700s, however, Japan was the most urbanized country in the world. Woodblock printing meant that media became available to everyone for a much lower cost than it would if everything was an individually commissioned drawing. “Modern” consumer pop culture arrived and evolved in Japan much earlier than other places, and part of pop culture was the ukiyo-e.

What is ukiyo-e?

Have you ever wanted to see a hand drawn and carefully reproduced woodblock print of a woman having sex with an octopus? I imagine you don’t, but we’re on Tumblr, so. You can’t be sure.

Anyway, If you know The Great Wave off Kanagawa, the glorious and quintessential piece of Japanese art, that was done by Katsushika Hokusai. Hokusai, the mad lad, also printed women fucking octopodes. Both of these things are (according to the people of the time) a depiction of the “Floating World,” ukiyo. The Floating World refers to the beautiful, fleeting, and hedonistic red-light district of Edo (now Tokyo) which was literally a man-made sex and theatre island. Pictures of the Floating World are usually the traditional Japanese woodblock print, and can be anything from beautiful flowers to famous actors to scenic views to pictures of lovers, to… well, porn. A lot of porn.

However, this particular drawing is (thankfully) based off of Lovers Walking in the Snow (Crow and Heron), a wood-block print that dates to around 1770.

The long sleeves on the woman is one of the signs of the mid-Edo period, as those were in fashion at the time.

According to the Met, “Of all ukiyo-e prints of lovers, this one creates the most romantic and melancholic mood. Harunobu emphasizes the intimacy of two lovers strolling in the snow, even suggesting perhaps a michiyuki, a path to a love suicide.” The love suicide or double suicide was considered one of the most romantic things lovers could do at the time…. which… you know, that’s cool for them, but I wanted to thematically move away from that for this one, so I switched the crow to a crane 😭 This only partially solved the problem but I swear they’re not going to kill themselves guys I love Nozelena and there are other reasons I picked this print, please –

Crow and Heron was created by Suzuki Harunobu, who invented the nishiki-e, or multicolored woodblock print. Prints prior to his innovation were limited to two or three colors, but Harunobu’s wealthy commissioners gave him enough money and time to carve up to twelve individual wood blocks to print many different colors onto one sheet of paper.

He is also famously known for fucking hating kabuki performers, so sorry, Harunobu, but I’m putting you in here with mentions of kabuki actors lmao. shoutout to Wikipedia for Harunobu facts please don’t kill me hbomberguy im just a little man with dreams

Clothes

I want to preface this by saying that these clothes are NOT COMPLETELY HISTORICALLY ACCURATE. With that being said, let’s get into the Themes :]

Helena, our Crane, is wearing clothing that’s pretty similar to the woman in Crow and Heron, but she’s also wearing an auspicious red uchikake, or over-robe. Uchikake are only really used in wedding kimono in modern times, but they were frequently worn in everyday life by the wives of samurai-class nobles during the late Muromachi (1336-1573) and Edo periods. Consisting of a patterned silk robe left open over her white kimono with the fashionable long sleeves of the time, she’s hopefully a little more warm in the snow!

Image courtesy of the Met. Uchikake depicting scenes from the Tale of Ise

Plum blossoms are the flower of the month for February, and make up at least ten entries in the Kokinshu, a famous seasonal poem anthology. These white blossoms are often elegantly 'confused' with snow on the branches of the plum trees, and are a sure sign of early spring.

Given that this drawing is being posted around the time that these poems were likely written back in the 900s, I thought it would be fitting to put Helena in plum blossoms. You can also see faded plum blossoms in two corners of the piece. Cranes (tsuru) are associated with the same bright red that Helena’s almost always drawn in. They signify long life, purity, good luck, and fidelity. Overall, cranes have the same general happy connotations that I think of whenever I think of Helena, and they have the same colors -- they're perfect for each other!

You can see a version of Helena’s outfit with the hood in the ukiyo-e below, also done by Harunobu.

Nozel is styled as a daimyo or regional warlord of the time. I wanted initially to put him in a kataginu kamishimo, which you can see below, but the haori (jacket) and hakama (pants) that he’s wearing are also appropriate.

Dressing him down and leaving his hair down saved me from having to draw his stupid braid hopefully gives the piece a more intimate feeling.

If Nozel was a daimyo of the time period, he’d only see Helena a few months out of the year. The Tokugawa shogunate used a system called sankin koutai, or alternate attendance, to prevent the regional warlords from rising up and trying to usurp their rule. This system meant that the wives and children of the daimyo were forced to live in the capitol, and the daimyo could come to Edo once or twice a year to see them. The shogun having everyone’s wife and kids readily accessible to him at all times was… a pretty effective deterrent from treason, so Nozelena wouldn’t get to see each other often. Any time they would spend together would be very precious, and I hope I've depicted that feeling.

Nozel’s haori hakama is not very traditional (usually it would be black with gold thread for the kamon, or family crest stitched onto the shoulders of the haori. You’ll see that where there’s meant to be a family crest, I’ve put the Silva cross), but there’s a reason for that. The EEO store New Year had a Nozel in a haori hakama that’s pretty close to the colors of the aosagi, or grey heron, and that gave me an idea.

Grey herons carry connotations with mystery and death, which fits well for a man who has a secret about death that he can’t reveal to anyone or risk killing them too. Herons are also featured in an incredible kabuki performance called Sagi Musume. This dance was famously done by onnagata Bando Tamasaburo (link here to watch! He’s a Living National Treasure: I can’t recommend it enough). It’s tragic, but beautiful.

Crows and herons are both somewhat related to death, which is likely part of the reason that it’s intimated that the two lovers in Harunobu’s piece are walking to commit a double suicide. However, changing one of the birds in the metaphor to a crane lightens up the metaphor and makes it much more hopeful, which I associate with this ship. As spring comes in and the white snow melts away to reveal budding plum blossoms, so too does a little sun shine on the grey heron, trapped in his secret and closed off from the world.

Or something like that. It’s pretty pretentious, but I enjoyed thinking about this relationship and conceptualizing the metaphors I wanted to use for this drawing.

Ai ai Gasa

The Met writes about Harunobu’s piece: “The couple walk together in the quietly falling snow, in what is known as an ai ai gasa pose, literally, the sharing of an umbrella and love.” I kept this pose for Nozel and Helena – I knew I wanted something to do with a paper umbrella, since our girl has paper magic. In the starting sketches, he was holding the umbrella over her head while she reached for koi in the river (koi in Japanese is a homophone for love), but this version of the pose is both more historically aligned and cuter in my opinion.

The umbrella actually exists.

This is a wagasa – a Japanese umbrella – made by Matsuda Wagasa in Kanazawa. It has Helena’s signature red as well as a Hangetsu/half moon pattern. Kanazawa umbrellas are different from any other wagasa makers in the country, and a dying craft. Matsuda is the only store left that still makes Kanazawa-style wagasa. I know no one on this site really has any money, but if you want to buy a piece of long-lasting, living art, please consider supporting them.

The Poem

The writing that you see in the corner is a famous poem from the Kokinshu. However you ask me, “Alex. This is the Edo period. That’s the 1700s. This poem was from the 890s. The EIGHT. NINETIES. Why the hell are you using poetry in Classical Japanese? No one from the Edo period could understand something that was written 800 years ago at the time.” And to that I say: that’s a very logical conclusion! However, you are WRONG, because there’s nothing LOGICAL about ELEGANT, AESTHETIC PERFECTION!!!

Classical Japanese (theoretically the Japanese used from around 900 to 1100) was used well into the Meiji period (1868-1912) whenever someone wanted to sound fancy or official. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of poems about plum blossoms and spring, but I picked this one for a reason. Harunobu often included poems in his work to poke light fun at them, but the inclusion of this poem in my drawing was perfectly serious. I’ll leave you with it to close out the explanation of this drawing. I hope seeing this piece of art has given you a happy and soft feeling, even if it’s only brief – I love Helena, I love this ship a lot, and I appreciate how hard Lola has worked to understand Nozel’s character and create an OC that plays well with him. I know only a few people who have put in the time and effort to meet Nozel where he’s at instead of trying to make him into something he isn’t. I imagine that for a man who has experienced so much death and made so many mistakes in his life, Nozel’s feelings for Helena are somewhat like this poem.

梅が香を袖にうつしてとどめてば春は過ぐとも形見ならまし

mume ga ka wo/sode ni utsushite/todometeba/haru wa sugutomo/katami naramashi

If only the plums' scent/would shift to my sleeves and/stay there, then/even when spring is past and gone/a keepsake it would be...

#black clover #black clover fanart #nozel silva #nozel black clover #black clover oc #bc oc #helena drazel

42 notes · View notes