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five-thousand-loaves-of-bread · 1 month ago

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"gestures & sounds & nonverbal communication is (no tech) AAC. (AAC = augmentative & alternative communication. nonverbal communication = communication without words/language, not communication from nonverbal people)

"texting, writing, posting on social media, all actually accepted versions of AAC."

or thjs very old post from 2023 by assistiveware, an AAC company, creator of proloquo series:

[ID: screenshot of @ AssistiveWare instagram post. post itself is light purple background with dark purple text. bold text read “Social media, texting and tweeting are basically large scale socially accepted AAC systems." below that not bold text say " - Saoirse Tilton, AAC user." at very bottom have AssistiveWare contacts and logo. end ID]

are all things have heard people say when try explain to people who have no idea what AAC is.

is this true? are these AAC? are people who use these thus AAC users?

other AAC users may feel differently, n by no means am dictator of AAC, but as someone who nonverbal full time AAC user, personally really hate this, disagree - or at least disagree w this unnuanced explanation, especially when use with beginners or people who never in their life heard acronym AAC. find it counter productive, even more harm than good.

or, say different, personally: gestures, body language, mouth sounds, drawing, texting, writing, social media, these not AAC by default. in certain situations/context, AAC users may use these as AAC or AAC-adjacent (context-dependent, user-dependent). but saying “all these AAC” without more explain & nuance, false & irresponsible.

because, again, AAC, stand for augmentative and alternative communication. or, put into sentence, typically seen as "non-oral/mouth speech communication that augment (add to) and/or use as alternative to (replace) oral/mouth speech."

(* say "typically" because there people who can't spell thus can't type, who use button-based AAC to replace that. but this typically not what people mainly mean when say "AAC")

but, include & on top of all that, in current world AAC have extra layer of connotation (idea/ feeling/association on top of what it literally mean) of... it not standard. it not typical. it not the norm. it transgressive. people/norm expect something. u giving them another.

for better—me be nonverbal AAC user do make me different than verbal people, do give me different access needs, in world not designed for me. it make me different (unique). n want that difference acknowledged, instead of toxic positivity assimilation "you just the same" out of pity only

or for worse—be treat as second class citizens. oral speech be seen as better than AAC. have communication AAC not listened to or thrown out, which some AAC users have experienced in legal/law/police/abuse report situations. we treated differently (worse).

people whose mouth speak works won't use AAC. AAC is what come next when that not work or may not work.

different (positive). different (neutral). different (negative).

transgressive.

people w complex communication needs, n by extension AAC users, we treated horribly by society & by people in society. we get teased, bullied, ignored, abused, abused & not able communicate it, but we not just get mistreated on individual-level. often we denied right to communicate, right to education, n other human rights. many of us forced to live in silence, because we not given communication tools, or support for develop communication. sometimes police, testimonies, & official legal records not see our AAC communication as real communication.

our non-oral speech communication get seen as less legit than oral speech. other people’s oral speech get automatic listened to before our own. we denied communication tools that may help us thrive because people around us want us to speak orally & think any other tool will take away our hypothetical chance to talk fluently reliably via mouth.

everyone communicate in variety of ways. body language on purpose, body language not on purpose, gestures, pointing, vocal sounds, drawing, writing, texting, via showing pictures. for most verbal people, these communication are normalized. no one bat an eye when person giving speech use body language persuade audience, or when you show friend picture of your lunch when you struggling explain it. but us, who can’t fully rely on oral speech, we need rely on these more. heavier. more intentionally. more on purpose. but ours gets dismissed. gets ignored on purpose.

so, really do understand trying to reframe AAC to people who not know what it is, or people resistant to it. that we all use it. that they use it. that they listen to other verbal people who using it. so ours should be listened to, too.

but that’s the thing: everyone communicate in variety of ways. n for most verbal people, those are normalized.

make text post in social media where expect text post norm is text post suppose to write text (may even not have audio option), and, use non-mouth speak communication (or not use mouth speak) in person when all people mouth talk all expect you mouth talk. fundamentally different.

second thing get you ableism. get make fun & mock at best, in conversation get ignored at best. at worst, get hate crimed, get killed, get wrong convicted, or in medical situation see as justify for not need consent or reason ignore what you say or reason declare incompetent.

first thing. well, who get be on social media full of privilege & discrimination, who get heard on social media full of that, who get bully & make fun of for writing "wrong" for content full of that (race, class, dis/ability, etc). but, struggle think of time where act of make text post on social media where expect post text post is.. that.

there difference between writing text post in tumblr or any text-based social media, or text fun friend group where you all miles apart n all texting, vs texting in group chat when sit irl with friend group who all orally talking, different, or person using letter board to spell out everything they want to say.

there difference between showing your friend picture of your dinner when it too complicated to explain n clearer in picture when you bump into eachother n start mouth chatting, vs using symbol based communication in high tech speech generating device or low tech picture cards, or even AAC user having unique relationship with art n see that as way of communicate.

maybe in another world or in future, second group get as normalized as first. but we not there. and AAC users who use most basic, fundamental, narrowest definition of AAC, we exist right now in real life, we not theory or theoretical.

in average face to face situation, even verbal person use more nonverbal communication than verbal ones.

are all communication that not oral speech, AAC?

trying to normalize AAC, but end up erasing our differences (differences can be factual. neutral.), assimilating us, turning a word that have specific meanings for us into something so wide, it useless to those of us who most impacted, those of us who need it.

there better way to explain we all use things other than oral/mouth speech to communicate than “they *are* AAC” for everyone, in every situation. (n yes, people DO say that)

if anyone with similar feelings with simpler way put it, please do. it too complex n abstract in brain, n not have scripts or “table of contents” in brain that already exist for it, so feel like wrote bunch of confusing nothing.

[rewrite of old post for AAC awareness month. so parts that sound bit different, that why (copy paste).]

#AAC #AAC user #nonverbal #loaf screm #long post

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thefusioncelestial · 4 days ago

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Mix 12: From Bros to Man

If you live any amount of time in America, you know of its college & university system. So many dreams go, come, and are crushed there.

To facilitate the attainment & fulfillment of such, students have huddled together in groups, and those groups became fraternities & sororities. And for those who hate the light: secret societies.

In a particular university, there is a secret society, formed from the best of each fraternity & sorority.

There is a secret ritual used on the second year at this university for each cohort.

In two rounds of voting, the two chosen as two best of their cohort are merged together to create a stronger being. In the second round, the winner will assimilate the loser.

Choice one is Craig:

Top grades, always active in his fraternity, and gets a long with everybody. Thinking of declaring a major in Biology.

His popularity comes from being a non-drinker, so he has saved many a drunken brother from destroying their lives, and saved many in return from being their victims. Because he is always looking out for everyone, his house is allowed to not have a house mother, facilitating more fun.

And when his brothers do get into trouble, he is there to bail them out or lessen the punishment.

And then there is Sam who is the second choice:

Here he is checking himself out before doing his best prank yet. The professor for human anatomy was had poor eyesight & is known to be exhausted quite often. Overnight, Sam replaced the human body dummy with himself. It worked, the professor did an entire class without realizing that his replica of an human body was a real one. And to top it off, Sam ran out of the class at the end giving the professor a fright.

It helped that he was on the track team, and strangely fencing as well.

It was also a coincidence that this particular class had a 4 to 1 girl to guy ratio. Let's just say that the next party was a paradise for some people.

And yet for all the fun he brings to others lives, his was a little disorganized. He had yet to think about what major to choose & didn't think of his future after university. A life of riches will do that to person. He funds the parties for multiple fraternities, so no ever pushed him to start making up his mind. His grades are good, so any program would love to have him...and the donation dollars he could bring.

You would think that Craig & Sam hated each other. but they got along well. Part of that is using the society meetings to hash out & fix their issues. Plus they loved to plan the parties together.

This combo was known as the Serious Dad & Fun Uncle. You went to Craig to get out of trouble, and you went to Sam to get into it.

This strange balance & high level of maturity between the two is how they got into the society & how the society deemed they must become one.

The day of the merger arrives, and the only one who knows who will be assimilating is the upper echelons. Both men are brought into a dark room with their faces covered, and then sat each in chairs.

Both had no shirt on, Sam didn't take the ritual seriously, and was in his underwear as a joke.

Everyone else but the pair leaves. They take off their covers. It's pitch black. They are confused. Normally, whoever sits on the chair has won the right to continue and drive the life of the fused being, but then Craig realized.

There is a rare occurrence where both selectees win. They will walk together as equals, a true blending. Neither will be devouring the other.

Craig explains this to Sam. He is relieved. As a joyous reflex, he hugs Craig but when he tries to break the hug, he can't. Their skin is stuck like two pieces of duct tape stuck together.

Both understood what this meant, it was time. Goodbye Craig & Sam. Hello to whoever they are about to become.

They adjusted themselves the best they could to make the next stage more comfortable, Sam somehow fit in Craig's jeans, everything now pressing up against each other except their arms that were wrapped around each other's backs. There was a lot of grunting trying to do this.

Then hugged each other harder.

"Ugh, mmm"

Their skin gave way, their insides liquefied. Their bones broke down. They were a humanoid blob with jeans now. Without a skeletal structure, one wondered how the being stood upright.

It stood there, silently, as if wondering what to do. All one could hear was pulsating sounds.

Mentally, Craig & Sam stood in front of each other. A few moments later they smiled and then walked into each other. Their forms shimmered and became wispy & mixed into one. Then they settled into a new form, their new being.

The moment the became one mentally, so did their dna. A new double helix structure, no going back. Whoever they were before didn't exist anymore.

Almost immediately, the nervous, skeletal, & cardiovascular systems formed. Followed by the muscles, organs, and skin.

Initially the being looked like a bald but taller Craig, but Sam's features came in as well.

"Mmphf"

At the shoulders, arms, legs, and chest, there was a series of pops. Each pop heralded the arrival of new muscle.

"Ah"

Sam completely took over in the abdominal region. The beings abs reshaped themselves to have Sam's insertions. And then the skin squeezed a little tighter, making him more cut and his abs stronger and harder.

He began to breathe hard.

There was another pop. A bigger ass.

Craig won out in the family rod & jewels. Long & girthy. Big sacks to match. If anything changed, they got bigger proportional to his new height and musculature.

The new being began to move his neck back and forth as if straining against something. With each movement his neck grew longer and longer. He stopped after another pop, his neck now thicker.

Hair began to grow from his head and face. He had Sam's hair color. His eyebrows, noise, & skin tone were Sam's as well. The eyes were Craig's but a little rounder. The mouth, ears, jawline, and chin were a combination of both. Initially, the hair was Sam's, but thanks to Craig, the hair became wilder, more shaggier, but somehow more controlled than what Craid had.

He let out a deep breathe & opened his eyes. Craig & Sam were reborn as one. They, no he is Hunter.

He was led into another room, a bathroom, to go wash up and change if needed. But before taking a shower, he took a look of himself in the mirror:

He liked what he saw.

Hunter was a Biology major, a track star, & on the fencing team. Rich. And he understood the need for both work and play.

From Craig & Sam was born a more balanced man.

#male merge #body merging #merging tf #male fusion #fusion #thefusioncelestial #male body transformation #male transformation #merge #musclegrowth #muscle #muscular #male body merge

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whereserpentswalk · 7 months ago

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There's an orc attending your college. Your city is pretty diverse, there's a lot of human cultures represented there, and even harpies and dwarves are common. But an orc is still a really rare sight. And she's not assimilated at all, she wears the symbol of the dark lord around her neak, and the strange black cloths from the wastelands she came from, and she always seems to have a gun somewhere on her. It's strange just to see an orc in person, she's not like the green skinned monsters you see in movies, her eyes are pitch black, and her skin is so pale you can see veins, she's muscular and tell but also strangely skinny, and her teeth are sharp and spiked like a sharks, this one doesn't have tusks, just these rows of serrated teeth.

Everyone avoids her at first. There's something creepy about her. She doesn't move like a human. She emotes weirdly, being stoic during conversations, but sometimes smiling or laughing at odd times. In class it becomes clear that she lacks knowledge anyone growing up in your society has, but has extensive knowledge on things most humans will never know. She also very clearly supports the dark lord and the demons who serve him, and gets mad when his narrative of conquest and strict genetic hierarchy is challenged in class.

You end up paired with her for a class project. It's weirdly awkward. But you end up spending more time with her then most. It still takes awhile to get used to her mannerisms, and you have to convince her of evolution in a long debate (but eventually you do convince her). She seems strangely naive to a lot of things. Every time she does something that she considers a failure she goes into self loathing, and she gets really afraid she's going to be punished. You have to explain to her things are going to be ok sometimes.

You try to spend time with her. She supports the dark lord but out of a strange sense of fear more than the type of ideological support humans in nations not under his control have. When she does something that she thinks is heresy agaisnt him she becomes afraid. And while she's angry at people who follow gods other than him (which is basically everyone here) she's more afraid of them than everything. When a holy symbol you own touches her she's surprised it doesn't burn her, you have to tell her it's ok.

She has a lot more freedom here than she did back in the wastelands. You slowly help her realize she doesn't have to worry about being punished for sinning agasint the dark lord. She's able to go on the internet for the first time, you help her get everything set up. You also introduce her to your freinds, only some of whom feel safe around her, but those who do seem to like her.

It's weird just hanging out in her dorm. She can be weirdly laid back and introspective at times, at least when she's not nervous or paranoid. But when she's just relaxing she'll tell you about things, about the beauty of the desert sands, about what it was like to observe the rattlesnakes and condors and wyverns of her homeland. How she likes to observe the city, the way the diffrent people flow through it, she was scared of it at first but now she likes to explore it, and the way it lacks stars at night but the lights from the buildings replace it. She says she wishes she could stay here forever, that she wishes she could be an artist but that she was sent here to learn skills useful to the dark lord's empire.

There's something nice about showing her new things. You get to take her to a musical for the first time. Get to show her neighborhoods you like. Get to explain to her what public transport is (though she got scared feeling trapped in a subway car). You get to show her stuff she never got to experience because orcs are never really children, she loves getting to hold a plush for the first time, or watching cartoons for the first time, it's like she's finally getting to live an experience she never had. Even though she's a well armed adult she really likes plushies once she finds out about them, they weren't something she was allowed to have back home.

Over time she starts meeting people and learning things that go against her worldview. As she makes more friends, understands new things, slowly learns that she shouldn't be punished for mistakes, she slowly comes around to seeing how fucked up the world the was raised in is. She tells you she doesn't want to worship the dark lord anymore, she cries just from saying it. You hug her, and realize she's never been hugged before, she seems to really like that feeling. She bathes in the waters of a healing goddess, and she worships something out of love instead of fear for the first time.

Eventually the spawning warlock who spawned her and her siblings comes to visit her. You told her to be careful but she ended up spilling that she doesn't worship the dark lord, she ends up spilling all the things a warlock like that considers a sin. When he leaves she tells you she can't go home. Not ever. Never again will she see the shifting sands, or flying condor, or flowing serpents of her homelands. She's trapped where she is now.

You know it hurts her a lot. She says she feels like she's in a small pocket of safety. Back home she'd be hurt for being an apostate. In human lands outside of the city she'd be hurt for being an orc. But she's safe here. She stays in her apartment for awhile, while you try to make things work. She's finally changing her major to art, and despite everything she's finally free, free to watch the starless sky, free to not be punished when she makes a mistake...

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phobos-exe · 2 months ago

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Reading Wolverine comics after watching the movies has me absolutely falling in love with the "man or animal" motif that follows Logan literally everywhere.

// Marvel Comics Presents (1991): Issue #75

My favourite read so far is the short 4 issue series, Wolverine (1982), which the 2013 Wolverine movie is based on. Bascially it being about Logan trying not to lose Mariko to an arranged marriage and the cultural powers at play to which he isn't privy to. Furthermore, it absolutely dense with character-centered narrative with Logan's inner conflict surrounding the balancing act he must preform between embracing his animalistic side and his desire to be more than the killer he's always been, whilst he struggles with fitting into japanese society and the japanese underground. I could not reccomend it enough. Issue #3 is such a standout for me, all the excerpts provided are from it also.

One of the scenes i think highlight what im getting at with the motif is how Logan actively interprets an event that took place previously in the story. Earlier, he had fought Shingen (Mariko's father) to defend his own honor and for him to overrule Mariko's marriage so they may be together again, ultimately he not only loses but he humiliates and dishonors himself in the process. In this scene, he has a dream about the battle in a sequence that showcases what that humiliation actually meant for him in relation to his internal fight to let go of the animal he thinks himself of.

Despite how undisputable his physical strength is, the defeat he endures against Shingen crushes him and defines his motivations for the entire series. The words Mariko says in his dream, bascially defining him as a fraud and unworthy of her love, and the panel that follows this one saying he is also unworthy of life, is pretty indicative of his fear that his primal instincts- what he defines himself as -negates his noble aspirations to be a better man, overshadowing his morality.

It's also interestingly delved into with how his relationship with Mariko and his following romance with Yukio is contrasted in how they have an effect on Wolverine's internal conflict: Mariko's influence makes him want to strive for self-improvement, to appease her, while Yukio is able to accept who he is

Mariko's influence makes him want to strive for self-improvement, to appease her, while Yukio is able to accept who he is and his nature. The growth and control vs embracing your supposed truth serves as a new perspective to view Logan from. Basically, it's a reflection of how Logan himself is struggling to not only balance both aspects of himself, but also his struggle to accept them in the first place.

Going back to the films, I think they do a good job of adapting this method of symbolizing his self-reflection. For instance, in the origins movie, one of the conflicts I love from it is how this exact concept is adapted to Kayla and Victor. Kayla, being the stand-in for Mariko, motivates Logan to move past his animalistic side, literally telling him "you're not an animal, logan", whilst Victor is the force that wants him to ditch assimilation and embrace his mutations completely, though in this case it's much more violent and psychotic than Yukio's approach in the comic. The film version is a whole new exploration of his characterin its own right since it's more like these two opposing ideas are telling him what he should be, and the consequent struggle between what he should choose.

Though, and this is just my interpretation, what I appreciate most of this theme is that it managed to be so confusing for Logan that it circles back to being ironic. Because yes, he failed Mariko and he failed Yukio, he failed to assimilate to societal standards and he failed to be true to himself- whatever that really is -but I think one of his biggest failings is concluding for so long that he is an animal and therefore not a man, when in reality he has shown nothing but human desires, ambitions to change, to choose. He is an animal, it's just that that animal is a man.

#wolverine #james howlett #logan howlett #wolverine comics #x men #x men 2000 #x men origins: wolverine #hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #deadpool 3 #ryan reynolds #marvel #marvel comics #character analysis #poolverine #deadclaws

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batgirlteeth · 5 months ago

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thinking about samus' radical design changes from the onset of fusion and how they relate to her self-image. the x parasite didnt just steal her armour, it stole her identity too, her chozo power armour was the one connection she had left to the people that made her who she is, and it was infected and cut out like a cyst and then it quite literally haunted her. her default appearence is then one that is stripped away, laid bare, and shes far more vulnerable.

the only thing that could save her was the most destructive legacy of the chozo, the metroids. then over the course of fusion, she learns that the federation has been cloning metroids for weaponisation themselves, the humanity shes so desperate to hold onto is acting no different to the space pirates, looking to control and conquer. everything she thought she was has either been torn from her or corrupted beyond recognition.

and then dread follows up on this so well by introducing raven beak and the mawkin tribe. we always saw the chozo from this idealised lens, a generous and benevolent civilisation that shared their bounties with the universe. but the truth is that was only their best and brightest, the real reason theres chozo ruins on nearly every planet in the galaxy is because they were conquerors. they were colonisers. and samus herself was yet another soldier being indoctrinated into war for the sake of raven beak's ego. just another weapon. just another metroid.

any vestiges of samus' heritage and the legacies she holds onto have had their facades stripped away for what they are, and its up to samus to define herself. she chooses to become a metroid, the ultimate warrior, because she can defy that legacy and scrounge some good from the dirty hands she was dealt. quiet robe inspires her to do this, by holding onto a fraction of his kindness even after assimilation by the x, because that altruism can shine through no matter how dark it gets.

metroid is about growing up in a fascist society and peeling away the layers of obfuscation and deciding what you want to fight for. also youre transgender

#samus metroid you mean the world to me #cherie chitters

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slytherinshua · 29 days ago

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RUBY OUT OF CONTROL

genre. fluff. brief angst(?). friends to lovers. steven universe au (post steven universe future by a few decades). nicholas is half-gem half-human like steven :D warnings. yn and nico arguing (before the fic starts). nico produces some fire accidentally. just two flustered friends in love with each other. not proofread. pairing. half ruby!nicholas x fem!human!reader. wc. 2k. request. no. a/n. i need to write more steven universe aus fr why is this hitting so hard skdjks. net. @kstrucknet

You had never really fought with Nicholas, at least, never like this. You’d been best friends for years since you met one Summer at an ice cream parlour when you were 16. It seemed like fate when you started talking and bonded immediately. He lived only 5 minutes away from your house with his dad, so seeing him every day started to become routine.

He said he didn’t really have many friends, besides some gem buddies. You were his first human friend, but you didn’t find it unusual. Gems had assimilated to human society for a few decades since the infamous Crystal Gems created Little Homeworld. You’d had some fun conversations with a few introspective sapphires and a rambunctious peridot yourself. You were always curious to learn more about them, if you ever got the chance.

Over the years, Nicholas learned everything about you, and you thought you knew everything about him too. You had never expected him to be hiding such a big secret as… this. He was half-gem himself. A rarity, even since the population of gems came to Earth. As far as you knew, there had only ever been one other; Steven Universe himself.

It wasn’t the fact that he was a half gem that made you upset. You were always ready to accept Nicholas for whatever he was. But the fact that he hid it from you for so long had you confused, and regrettably, you had let your hurt emotions lash out at him. To make matters worse, in the heat of the moment, your feelings for him had slipped out in a messy spew of upset rambling. You weren’t ready for that— neither was Nico. The result? He hadn’t texted you in 3 days.

You were a bit scared to reach out, and too busy overthinking and beating yourself up about how you reacted to even think of how to make it up to him. He deserved better than his closest friend starting an argument when he was vulnerable. It was so easy to see now that he had probably been scared to tell you for years. Of course it was a sensitive topic; and now you had fucked it all up by making it about yourself.

It was painstakingly clear now that you could put the pieces together. You were almost surprised you had never suspected him of being a gem before. You’d sometimes spotted over the years a hint of red peeking from under his hoodies or t-shirts. And you often wondered why he didn’t like swimming, or wouldn’t show off his muscles like other teenage boys. He was obviously in shape, you’d seen his arm muscles enough times to know that at least.

The red mark you always spotted wasn’t a birthmark, or skin irritation, or acne, but his gem. You felt so dumb for not putting the pieces together earlier, and even dumber for not being gentler with him. But, after the third day of stewing in your regrets and sorrows, you decided enough was enough.

You were going to apologize to Nicholas at the very least, and hopefully, he would put the argument behind you (and forget about your stupid confession). You really didn’t want to lose your best friend after almost 8 years. You didn’t care about the secrets or even your feelings for him anymore. All that mattered was saving the friendship and seeing him again.

So, you bravely walked out the front door and started the dreadful 5 minute walk to his house. You hoped he was home. Chances were high that he was. He had never been one to get outside on a Saturday morning when he could be lazing around in bed instead. When you knocked on the door to his house, his dad answered it.

“Y/n… You looking for Nico?” He asked gently. He looked tired, and you were sure it wasn’t just because it was 9 am on a Saturday. You hoped you hadn’t hurt Nicholas that much…

You nodded, “Is he home?” You were surprised at your own ability to regulate your voice. Although you were seconds away from crying in reality, you tried not to show it to Mr. Wang.

“Of course, of course— he doesn’t go anywhere on a Saturday. I was hoping you’d stop by, actually. Nico’s been having a tough time for a few days; I was hoping you’d be able to cheer him up.” You tried not to get too disheartened by hearing that. You didn’t have the heart to tell Mr. Wang that you were the very reason he must have been having a hard time. He opened the door wider for you to step inside. When you did, you were met with the distinct smell of smoke.

“Is something burning in the kitchen?” You asked immediately, assuming that your knock on the door had distracted Mr. Wang from cooking his morning breakfast or something.

“No, that’s just… Nicholas.”

Your eyes widened in confusion, but Mr. Wang merely ushered you towards Nico’s room, backtracking to hand you a small fire extinguisher before allowing you to knock. You didn’t have time to ask why in the world you would need it, before he was knocking on the door for you and then disappearing to a different part of the house. You gulped nervously before forcing words from your throat.

“H-hey, um, Nico? It’s me… If you don’t want to see me right now, that’s okay, but… I wanted to say I’m really sorry for the other day. I shouldn’t have reacted like that and—”

The door swung open, and Nico’s dark eyes and red hair came into view. He was in a loose t-shirt, and you could notably see his gem poking up from the neckline. Now that you knew about it, you couldn’t help but stare at the shimmering jewel. You forced your eyes back up to meet his, though.

“—I hope I can make it up to you.” You finished quietly.

Nicholas sucked in a breath, pulled you into the room by your wrist, and shut the door. Neither of you said a word, and you avoided eye contact with him or even looking at him, surveying the room as a distraction instead.

“Are you aware your bed is… on fire?” You whispered, not sure whether to be alarmed or not about it. There was already so much else going wrong that a small flame in the room somehow wasn’t your biggest worry. Now the fire extinguisher that Mr. Wang had handed you made sense.

“Uhm… yeah. Sorry about that.” He awkwardly patted out the flame with his hand, but soon another one sprouted. Flustered, he tried to smack them with his pillow, but as his face grew redder, the flames only grew.

“Is it from your gem?” You took a guess, fairly certain that the fire wasn’t of natural causes.

“It happens when I’m… angry. Or flustered. Or when I can’t think.” He explained softly, a pain and confusion to his voice. He gave up on the flames, knowing that they wouldn’t catch on anything else in his room.

“I see. Are you angry at me?” You asked, hoping it wasn’t the case, but with no justification to blame him if it was. You deserved it.

“No. I’m not. I don’t blame you for reacting like that. I was the one hiding something so big from you for so long. I think it’s just cause I’m overwhelmed. I can’t really get myself to stop thinking about 3 days ago.”

“Me too.”

“You meant it, right? That you like me?” He dared to maintain eye contact with you, anticipation and nerves bubbling in his chest. They manifested themselves as little puffs of smoke surrounding him.

You were embarrassed that he asked about it right away. Part of you hoped he would forget you ever said anything, but you supposed there was no way to go back and unsay it.

“I did mean it. I still do. I’m sorry for the way I reacted, but I promise it was sincere when I said that.”

It was almost as if you could see the relief wash over Nicholas at your words. The room, which was quite hot when you came in, noticeably cooled in temperature, and the flames on the bed died down.

“Thank you.” Was all he said, yet the emotion in his voice cut deep into your heart. He took a seat on the bed, and you followed suit. Soon, both of you were shoulder-to-shoulder, sitting in silence. But unlike when you first came in, it was a comfortable silence. A familiar silence. The kind that usually happened naturally whenever you spent time together. But still, something had shifted. There were still unanswered questions to get to— you were both waiting for who would be brave enough to address them first. You took your shot first.

“So… I assume you’re part ruby, right?”

He nodded, “To be honest, I don’t know much about my gem. My dad tells me stuff about my mom sometimes, but I still feel disconnected from it. Rubies are pretty weak. They used to just be low-ranking soldiers for Homeworld. That’s the capital gem planet out there in space. I’m not sure why or how… I came to be. My dad won’t tell me much about that. He’s a little sensitive when it comes to the whole… self-sacrifice thing.”

You nodded along to his explanation, all of it making a decent amount of sense for what you knew already about gems.

“Can I see it? Do you mind?”

Nicholas could see the sparkle in your eye, filled with curiosity and wonder. He smiled— he always loved your excitable fascination with new things. This reaction to his gem was one he infinitely preferred. He pulled the neckline of his shirt down a bit, revealing the entire gemstone. It was even prettier when you saw it up close. A dark rich red colour with glints of shimmer and sharp cut edges just below his collarbone.

“Can I…?” You asked softly, hesitant to touch the gemstone without his approval. A cute flush of red covered his ears and cheeks and he nodded, eyes following your hand as it made gentle contact with the gem. He could feel his heart beating faster in his chest at the contact, his suppressed feelings for you growing to an uncontainable size. As if it was about to spill over. As if he was about to do something that he might regret.

You looked so beautiful, admiring him and his gemstone like he was the most precious thing in the world. He had never felt precious, or like anyone cared about him in this way. His dad loved him, but he could feel how he missed his mother every time he looked at the ruby. Other gems found him unique, and naturally compared him to Steven, only to get disappointed once they realized he would never be as influential or powerful as the legendary diamond.

But the way you looked at him was different. You didn’t see him as a replacement to his mom, or falling short of a living legend. You just saw him as Nicholas. Nothing more, nothing less. He was the same in your eyes; still your best friend, still the boy you had a massive crush on, still the most important person in your life.

The feelings exploded, just as Nicholas feared, and a small spark lit under his hands, producing the smallest of flames.

“Oh my god—“ You laughed, eyes travelling down to the flame and then back up to his face, “Are you flustered right now?” You were smiling so fondly, giggles escaping past your lips in a hypnotising and beautiful way. He was frozen— all he could do was stare at you, his face turning a deeper shade of red as butterflies swarmed and his heart raced from your presence.

And then he felt your lips kissing his cheek softly, and it broke him out of his trance. You still had that same smile on your face. A mix of adoration and amusement towards him. And there was a particular glint in your eyes, as if teasing him, telling him to make the move and kiss you properly. The chance was laid out right in front of him. Who was he to let it run away from him?

↳ &team taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kpoprhia,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,,

@chiiyuuvv,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,,

@talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @hursheys

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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year ago

Text

VIOLET | RAZOR. (GENSHIN)

✾ tags ; afab + gn!reader, aged-up characters, virginity loss/first times, established relationship, mutual virginity loss, nipple play, fingering, oral (f!recieving), creampies (reader is using a contraceptive), reader is mentioned to be an orphan / run away , 18+

✾ wc ; 6.1k (went to edit and went 700 words over the wc. pain)

✾ a/n ; i'm losing my mind btw. razor my only triple crowned character my most greatly beloved my angel my sweet. also i added the aged up tag mostly bc its the genshin fandom but. if u dont like that dont read. ez peazy.

also trust and believe the voice im picturing in this is his jpn dub. this is important

✾ synopsis ; you resolve yourself after many long years of abstinence, you're going to ask razor about sex the minute he comes home.

Razor is human.

On a technical level, this information isn’t news to you. He looks human. His physical makeup is human. He needs to eat and sleep like humans do. Focusing on the technicals alone, Razor is very, very human.

It doesn’t change that he was raised by wolves, though. And you don’t want it too. You think it’d be a shame if he started to assimilate too much into human society just because he felt like he had too. You know how he feels about it. And that Boreas is the closest he’s ever had to a father figure, thus making his claim about Razor's humanity a rather devastating blow. He feels inhuman all while knowing he is. You think once upon a time, he really did wish to be a wolf.

You’ve known Razor since you were a teenager. You’d ended up in Wolvendom after your exploration of Teyvat led you to its outskirts. You’d bonded over your similarities. Two orphans with no real place where they fit in completely and complete odd-ball personalities - Razor was an easy friend for you to make. Even when you eventually decided to settle into Mondstat - you’d made a point to visit Razor regularly and spend time with him in the forest.

You made an odd pair of course, but you didn’t mind. If no one else understood you in the world - you know Razor always would. He’d listen patiently about all of your adventures and sit quietly as you decided to pester him by braiding his hair or teaching him new words. Loyal, obedient, sweet.

You never formally had the boyfriend conversation in the time you’d spent together. One day, however, Razor took you to meet Boreas out of the blue as well as the leader of his pack. You figured maybe it was something he did with his close friends. It only occurred to you that maybe this was a more serious meeting when Razor promptly gestured towards you and introduced you as his mate.

Razor, predictably, was very confused about your minor freak out. You tried not to let it show during your little chit-chat, but afterwards you’d shaken him by the shoulders and interrogated him about his word choice. This of course didn’t register in his mind at all. According to Razor, you’d been his mate since long ago. He’d been courting you since the moment you met in the way wolves are known too. You’re an adventurer, well-versed in certain animal behaviors for the sake of survival, including wolves.

And looking back on your interactions he was right, Razor had been courting you from the start. The news made you flush, and you went back into Razors camp and thoroughly educated him on human courting rituals.

(“Why matter?” Razor asks, head laid in your lap while he looks up at you from inside the tent “Not important.”

“Why would it not be important?”

He turns towards you, head facing your stomach as one arm lazily wraps around your waist. He yawns sleepily, seemingly not worried about a thing.

“You are mate. Mate last until death.” He explains, casually - like he’d always believed he’d spend every minute of his life with you. Like that was the only natural outcome for you both and that he’d never consider anything else. You want to explain, it’s different for humans. Humans don’t usually mate that way, you should say. But the words die out in your mouth as he clings closer to you “Sorry for..not asking.. properly. What are we…as humans?”

You look down at where he lays, thumb brushing over his cheek.

“Lovers or life partners. They’re closest to the word mate, in definition.”

“Lovers easier,” He grumbles, eyebrows tightening at the complex words in your sentence “You want to be lovers with Razor?”

You laugh. Light and bubbly and warm as you lean forward and try to mask the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

“Yes. We’re lovers from now on. And mates. And lupical, right?”

Razor sighs contentedly into your midriff.

“And lupical.”)

According to Razor, you had been mates from the minute you met. According to your human timeline, you have been dating since you were both around 17. It’s been a long time since then and nothing in your relationship has changed.

You’re an adult now and you work with the city of Mondstat studying wildlife populations. You live in the city in a cottage, and Razor lives with you - though he spends most of his day outside. He does the domestic labor while you whittle away at papers and projects. Because of your job, you still spend a fair bit of time together in the wild. He has plenty of insight about the wildlife in Wolvendom and is keen enough on changes to give significant contribution to your study. His work as your partner is unofficial, but everyone acknowledges that you come together in a set. Where you go, Razor follows.

You’re happy with your life. With your relationship to your wolf-boy boyfriend, with the career you’ve carved out of scratch and the life you’ve built. You left your orphanage young and spent a long time on the run. You’re incredibly thankful for all of what you have and you could never think of what more to ask for.

This is especially true for you and Razor. You’ve never had any real major obstacles in your relationship. Part of this comes from the wolven habit of mating for life. Concepts like pride are foreign to Razor. He says sorry even when he doesn’t completely understand and he has no concept of betraying your loyalty. Most things you can teach, he learns very quickly. But there are also some things no one ever teaches you to navigate. Some boundaries you can’t be sure you’re allowed to cross.

You’re a blossoming, healthy person in their twenties and so is Razor. He’s scarred and athletic in the outdoorsy way and he’s a little more rugged now that you’ve both grown. He’s hit a growth spurt and he’s taller than you and every time you see his arm flex carrying in an entire boar to butcher in your yard - you start getting so hot under the collar you feel like you’re going to explode.

The problem is: you want to have sex and you want to have it badly. You want it so bad it’s starting to make you feel like you’re a deviant. Like you’re some kind of harlot masquerading as an archon-fearing civilian.

But it’s so hard to bring up and you don’t know how you’re ever going too.

You’re very good at asking for what you want usually. It comes with the territory. And thanks to your boyfriend's cluelessness about human social convention, asking for things isn’t embarrassing. Concepts like shame are learned through a lifetime of socialization that he lacks and while you could sit and try to teach him - you don’t think he would care either way. He listens if you tell him he shouldn’t do something, but that’s because you’re his mate and his lupical.

What other people think is none of his concern. He cares about his Lupical. So if Lisa or Bennet or Klee tell him something, he might take it into consideration. But they, like you, love the parts of Razor that make him how he is and his complete innocence in some ways is part of that.

You know you could very well ask Razor for sex. You’ve spent a lot of time together and you’ve learned many things about him. It’s not like there’s nothing there at all. Like his every other trait, Razor normally relies on instinct to guide him. You’ve learned through kisses and dry-humping that he can get hard at least. You’ll probably never know the details of his arousal, and the only you’ll ever find out is by having sex with him.

You don’t know what else he knows. What Lisa has told him of the birds and the bees.

You have tried to ask Lisa inadvertently, but she enjoys making fun of you too much to give you any straightforward answers. And in her own maternal way, she thinks it’d be better for your relationship if you go ahead and ask yourself.

She’s right about that, but it’s also not very easy. You know Razor would never judge you. He doesn’t even have the capacity to do so. But while Razor knows nothing of shame, you certainly do.

It’s your problem to get over. You know that. You rationalize that your fantasies are healthy and normal for someone your age. But there is something terribly humiliating about trying to express the extent of your desire apart from just having it. Is it fair to teach Razor about desire? Does he know of it already and the both of you just suffer in silence?

Razor is a man. A grown man, and tougher than most men you know. He’s seen more than almost anyone else as part of living in the woods. You know he’s not some innocent fairy. But you can’t get over the feeling like you’re corrupting his sweet preciousness somehow.

(This has its own charm, but that’s not relevant. Or maybe it is. Maybe there’s guilt for that too but it’s not something you can unpack)

You’re reaching your upper limit on patience. Your hand can only do the job so long (though the import of sex toys from Fontaine do help) nothing can truly replace what you want. And what you want is Razor.

So, you’ve made your choice. When Razor comes home from…what he’s doing today - you’re going to ask him to have sex.

You’ve finished all of your work, did as many chores as you can, and now you’re waiting in your bedroom trying to read a book.

You haven’t even read past the first page, actually. But you’re trying. It’s hard to do anything meaningful when your brain keeps pivoting back to what's going to happen when your boyfriend returns home.

You’re nervous and fidgeting, rubbing your socked feet together and running over the laundry list of talking points you’ve concocted trying to make this happen. You shaved but not bare because you know he definitely wouldn’t like it, but you’re clean. You aren’t sure if he’s going to like that either and he’s expressed that he likes when you smell natural. But it soothed your anxiety to shower so he’ll have to leave with it.

You have no idea how this could go. You don’t even know how to prepare for the worst, because you don’t know what the worst is. But you reassure yourself with the fact Razor loves you and leave it at that.

You hear the door open and take a deep breath.

There’s heavy footsteps that get louder and louder. Razor cracks the door open politely, peeking his head into your shared room. He makes a face, the softest little smile you’ve ever seen - before letting himself in and shutting the door behind him. He’s quick to undress himself - jacket and scarf abandoned along with his boots. Leaving him in green pants and a bandage around his chest and arsm.

“Hi,” He says simply, coming down over to where you’re laid. He chooses to sit on the floor, folding his arms on the bed as he looks at you patiently “Missed you,”

“Hey there,” Your heart is pounding just looking at him. He’s unreasonably handsome. Had he grown up in normal conditions, you think he would’ve been a very popular loner type. “How was your family?”

“Good,” He says shortly, eyes warm and light “New pup. First time seeing since I was little. Very small and cute.”

“I’m glad. Bet it’s nice not to be the youngest anymore.”

“Come next time,” He says genuinely “They miss you.”

Your heart is so full you think it might burst. It temporarily soothes your anxiety.

“Of course I will.”

Razors eyes examine you for a minute. Your heart is still racing. Of course he notices it. He knows much more about you than you’ll ever know about yourself. His brow creases in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

You look at him apologetically, immediately warmed by how worried he is. You give him a small smile.

“I’m okay. Just a little nervous. Wanted to ask you about something.”

“Okay. I listen. No need to..be nervous.”

Right. He’s right about that. You sit up and Razor remains where he is. He’s seated comfortably on the floor, on his knees - between your thighs. He’s a sight for sore eyes, terribly rugged and scarred with nothing but honesty settled in his gaze. Carmine and beautiful. You fold your hands in your lap and before you can worry too much, Razor grabs one in his hand.

He kisses your knuckles so gently, leaning his face into your palm.

“It’s okay.”

You figure it’s best to be straight to the point.

“Uhm. Razor. Do you…know what sex is?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s—wait what? Did you just say yes?”

He nods again. “Miss Lisa taught me.”

That witch. You take a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“And uhm, what did she tell you about it?” You ask tentatively.

“Like mating but for humans. Best to do with mate. Good to be careful or else pups will come too soon.”

You stare at him, jaw slack.

“Right. And what else?”

He racks his brain right in front of you.

“Uhm. Can be for…feel good. Should go slow. Lots of things different from wolf.”

“...Do you know how it happens? The specifics?”

Razor goes a soft pink. Razor blushes.

“Yes.”

You have no idea what to feel. Not the faintest clue in the world. This is the first time in your entire relationship either of you have been in an awkward situation. You’re partially relieved it’s not completely foreign, partially feeling hot between the legs because you’re not corrupting anything. You make a face of uncertainty.

“Oh. Uhm. Do you—have you ever.. I mean—have you ever wanted to have sex with me then? I-is that something you’d…want to do?”

Razor almost looks perplexed by this question. He nods, then follows up.

“Yes. A lot.”

You nearly choke on your spit.

“A lot?”

“Yes. But.. Miss Lisa said to wait. Until mate asks.”

You’re going to have a serious discussion with that damned woman later. You take a shaky breath, looking at him carefully. This is going to break you in a way you don’t know if you’ll recover from. But you’re fine, you’ve made it this far. And you don’t want to back down when you haven’t gotten to the finish line. The final blow.

You’re not completely sure where you go from here honestly. Your brain was fully expecting to go on a long rant about sexual intercourse. Now that that’s out of the window, you’re at a loss. You decide, internally, that going straight forward is the best thing you could do for now.

“Then… would you want to have sex with me?”

His eyes widen then he pauses, looking worried.

“Well…yes. But, worried. Not sure…how.”

“Well, uhm. Normally it starts with kissing and t-touching and things like that. You can just do what feels right. Uhm.. and I’ll tell you… what I like. A-and what feels good.” You offer, trying not to show just how nervous you are even suggesting “But uhm… I also… think about it. A lot. With you.”

His eyes light up, and you can practically see the change in him. You’ve never let yourself get close enough to look but when you see him now that you know, it’s obvious. He’s looked at you like this before.

Like he wants you.

“Razor,” You say, bracing yourself for impact “Come up here.”

He’s quick to his feet. You lay back down and Razor lays himself ontop of you, hovering gently. He smells like forest, the rich warm scent of dirt and sunlight mixed with sweat that you’ve grown fond of. Looking down at you, he presses his forehead against yours with his eyes fluttered closed.

“Mate,” His breath is warm like he’s been chewing mint leaves and sweet flowers. He does it sometimes before coming home “Love you,”

“I love you too, Razor. You don’t,” You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of your proximity “Don’t hold back okay? You won’t break me.”

“Want to..” He thinks slowly, brain clearly struggling to come up with the right word “Cherish. Want to cherish mate. Cherish you.”

You give him a breathy laugh as he leans in close to you.

“Did Miss Lisa teach you that?”

“Yes,” He replies, pressing his cheek to yours and rubbing himself against you innocently “Cherish you a lot.”

“I cherish you a lot too,” You offer and he smiles. You feel your heart thump as you look up at him less innocently “Let’s kiss first, okay”

He doesn’t reply. This much is familiar. Though this was something you had to teach him at first, you would go as far as saying Razor kisses better than you. He’s better than you in these ways most of the time. He knows how to read your body language down to the most irrelevant details, attuned to your physicality in a way that could only be inhuman. The first time he noticed a change in your cycle after starting some herbal contraceptives, you were turned on as much as you were afraid.

His mouth is hot and overwhelming, plush as he kisses you passionately. He’s quick to open your mouth up with his tongue. Razor likes to taste. It’s natural for him to slip his tongue past your lips and lick at yours. You think if anyone else did it you’d be turned off. But with him hovering you over you, desperate as he pulls and nips at your lower lip - it’s stimulating. It makes you wet before you can think about it too hard. Your hands curl themselves around his neck, tangling at the thick roots of his gray hair.

He moans when you tug, and your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets. You do it again, a little harder and the same broken sound leaves his lips in the middle of kiss. You swallow the noise before pulling away, looking at his face. His face is perfectly rosy, lips swollen from where you’ve been kissing them.

“Did you,” You look at him erratically, eyes going over every part of his face “Did that feel good?”

He nods, dumbfounded.

“Felt good but,” He shakes his head in disbelief “Don’t know why.”

You giggle, delighted with the outcome.

“No it’s good, that’s normal.” You say trying not to babble “It’s like your body’s weak point.”

“Not weak.”

“It’s not a bad thing. I have some too. Like my neck.”

You can see the gears turning in his head. He tucks his chin against your shoulder and before you can speak to ask him about it, he’s pressing his lips against the skin of your neck. He doesn’t stop at a kiss, though. He proceeds to lick the small patch of tender flesh, before sinking his teeth into it.

You moan. You moan sharp, almost like a gasp of pain. He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but when he sees you he stops. He blinks, then gives you a look you’ve never seen.

His voice is almost chipped - richer and more hoarse as his fingers go over what can only be bite marks.

“Feels good?” He says, then adds more urgently “Where else?”

You’ve made him discover something. You’re sure of that. He looks awfully determined about it, too.

You sigh shakily, grabbing his hands. Even though you’re trembling mercilessly, you want this. You want him. You let his hand squeeze around the swell of your tits - your nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your shirt. With your eyes locked on his, you brush your nipples.

“H-here,” You admit watching his eyes go dark. Animalistic. “Uhm. W-with your mouth, you c-can suck on them.”

He’s quiet.

“Like pup?”

You laugh.

“A little bit like that, I guess. But it’s different.”

He makes a small, approving noise with his mouth, once again thinking hard about something before he continues down his path. He leaves open kisses all over your skin, hands reaching to undress you. You help him, peeling your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere. His eyes are shut closed, in bliss as he licks and bites down your neck with no real grace. His tongue is wet and rough all over you.

You can tell you’re being primed for something animal. Like being tenderized, worked apart in a way that makes you melt into something soft. Something that can be broken without teeth, that can be swallowed in one go. It’s not a romantic kiss as much as it’s a hungry graze, a gnawing lust. He’s not being so reserved anymore, and that means sinking his teeth as far into you as he can go, not enough to break the skin. Razor would never break you. But he might ruin you, might melt you down from your very center until he can tear you apart.

You thought it’d hurt, and it does - but in a good way. There’s some sick sense of relief in how achy your whole body is. You’re burning up because Razor wants you like he’s starving. An emptiness claws at you, makes the back of your gums ache. Makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand nearly straight as you sink deeper in. You want to be full of him and you want him to get so full off of you.

Razor doesn’t stop his tirade even when he gets down to your chest. Instead his mouth closes around your tit, hard incisors sinking into the supple skin but only slightly gentler than before. His canines feel sharper than yours. They must be.

“O-oh,” You can feel your voice shake as you hold onto the back of his head. He touches the other one with his free hand, squeezing and massaging the skin. He rubs your nipples experimentally in the same way you did a moment ago. “Razor, hngh,”

A noise is pulled from the back of his throat, a growl - so hard and heavy that it reverberates into your skin. You can feel it spread through your whole body, your core tightening up. Your skin is prickly. A solar flare shooting through your spine.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so aroused. You can hardly breathe around the weight of it sitting in your chest.

“Your scent..change.” Razor says through a breath, a thick layer of saliva where his mouth once was “Hot. So hot.”

You nearly whimper.

“ It’s because I’m wet…Aroused.”

“Wet?”

“It means I want to be touched. I want you to touch me down there.”

A beat of silence.

“Want me..to mate with you.” He sits up onto his knees, staring at you. Your legs are around his waist loosely. He presses a hand to your clothed sex. You jolt at the contact. “Want me to fill you, here?”

He puts his hand on your hip, on your stomach - before tucking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Want to see. What’s wet, I want to see.”

You lift your legs slightly, pulling your shorts off as you're bent at the knee. It’s embarrassing being bare naked in front of Razor, though you’ve seen him in the same state plenty. He’s quick to grab your knee and force your legs apart wide. He’s got that same focused stare, tongue poked out as he brushes the coarse hairs on your mound with his knuckle. You squirm under the feeling.

“Pretty,” He says first, then follows with “It’s…very warm. Hot but doesn’t hurt”

Razor explores with his hands. He runs his finger along your slit, before using his thumbs to spread you apart. He nudges your clit. At first you wonder if it's an accident, but when he does it again - rubs a pointed circle on the aching bundle of nerves you realize he’s being intentional.

“Here, right?” Razor says slowly and gauges your reaction “Feels good for you…here. Helps.”

You want to ask who taught him such a thing but you already know the answer. You nod helpless, feeling the way his thumb goes back and forth. He tries it in different ways, watches whatever way makes your breath hitch the most.

“Here makes you… jump. Like bunny rabbit. Like prey”

The word prey almost takes you out. You can’t make your words out very eloquently anymore. “It’s uhm sensitive.”

He knows the word. You’ve taught him it. He looks at your bare cunt all awestruck, gloved hand resting on your sex as he continues to toy with your clit. You squirm and shake, even trying to pull away. Razor manages to grab you, keeps you pinned with your legs spread, using his own body to keep you like that.

“Razor,” You moan, grabbing at his wrist “Razor.”

“Mm. It’s soft. So soft.”

“I want to see yours.”

It takes him a second to register your words, but he’s not ashamed in the slightest when he does. He takes off his gloves right before. You’ve felt it, briefly, the weight and heft of his cock through clothes but you’ve never actually seen it. You gasp as he pulls it out, tucking his pants down under his balls. He’s hairy - thick dark gray hairs nested at the base. His cock has a pretty curve up, tip ruddy and bright. It’s drooling, dribbling pre-cum and heavy. He wraps his free hand around the base and strokes it instinctively. It’s a good length, but it’s thick. Thicker than you could’ve ever conjured up in your own mind.

You reach for it between your bodies, your hands trembling as you touch it. Razor lets out another throaty growl. Your hand doesn’t fit around it completely. The back of your throat tightens up.

“You’re—it’s big. I can’t—not at once. I h-have to open myself up a little bit.”

Razor tilts his head to one side and you shake yours in reply.

“I need to uhm,” You gesture vaguely “Make it more..wet and stretch myself out. So you fit i-inside.”

“Want to help. Teach me.”

“...Teach you?”

“Easier if I..learn now. When we do it again later. Teach me..how to touch you.”

The words sound sweet coming out of his mouth, honeyed and loving. An obedient and eager pupil, Razor has always been that hasn’t he? And he always listens the best he can, tries his hardest. You suppose that this instance is no different. You suck in a breath and spread your legs a little more.

“Watch,”

Razor watches. He watches as you dip your fingers into your mouth and coat them with saliva. Watches as you snake a hand in between your legs and dip your middle finger down low into your cunt - with a trembling sigh at the sudden intrusion. He watches intimately as you pump them in and out, rhythmic and noisy. The sound of your own wet heat rings in your ears as you spread yourself in earnest.

Half-way through, Razor puts a hand on your thigh. He pushes your own hand away, and waits for you to open your eyes. He stares at you, long and hard.

“I want to eat you. Want to lick,” His hand cups your bare pussy “Here. Make you wet. Open you by myself. Want to eat.”

You’re speechless. Profoundly turned on by the sentiment, so much so you can’t make out your own voice.

“Uhm,” You close your hands into a fist, tucking your chin. “You can do whatever you like, Razor.”

He assesses the statement and you watch him take it in. He ends up on his stomach, lying between your thighs. You’re fascinated by his assurance in himself. He takes the right position between your legs. You spread out to give him easier access and he gives you a silent look of thanks. His breath is warm as it fans your cunt.

Before you get a chance to breathe, Razor sticks his tongue and licks. It’s animalistic with no real finesse at all. He makes up for it with enthusiasm and some conclusions he’s drawn with your assistance. He sucks on your clit nearly feverish, takes it into his mouth like he did your tits minutes prior. It’s drooly and sticky and nasty in a way that makes you ashamed. You’re more ashamed because you like it, you love it really. Spit is running down, dripping down to your ass. It’s a loud slurp - a shameless, nasty hunger in how he licks up your arousal with his mouth and drenches your pussy with spit.

His groans reverberate into you. He likes what he’s doing. The sound and touch and taste - Razor overwhelms you with all of it. There’s a tangible intensity wrapping up around you, keeping you trapped in the wolf's den.

You don’t teach him to use his fingers. He seems to have figured it out. The pad of his middle finger draws the spit pooling along your seam before pushing itself into your tight hole. You gasp at how invasive it is at first. Razors fingers are thick and scarred and you can feel the ridges of your raised skin from healed injured when he fucks you open with them.

It feels good. Being wanted. Being consumed voraciously and openly without any care for shame. Razor is the embodiment of raw desire and all of it- every ounce of it is being used to devour you. The descendant of wolves, the son of the forest - laid between your thighs and eating like something delicious left at an abandoned altar.

Even clumsy, you’re turned on beyond reason. Arousal leaves you shakily pawing at him to slow down. Your voice is reduced to nothing but small whines and mewls - pleas to slow down that fall on deaf ears.

“Razor,” Your voice is clipped “Razor, please - it’s enough. Just.”

When he snaps out of his haze, his chin is soaked with arousal and spit. He wipes it with the back of his hand, looking at you.

“Tastes good. You taste nice.” He praises, heaving and out of breath.

Your stomach flares up with new found lust, hands covering your face.

“Archons, just. Come here.”

Razor climbs up on top of you again. You cup his face and kiss him hard, tasting yourself on him.

“You’re so unfair. But I can’t get angry because you’re not even doing it on purpose.”

“Sorry,”

You shake your head, kissing the corner of his mouth. Trembling with need.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I want you inside. Want you to fill me in here, so bad, Razor.”

His eyes widen. Your desperation must reach him this time, because he nods. innocently. You’re thankful beyond words you’re on contraceptives. At this point, you think trying to use a condom would break you down.

“You just have to put it inside. But please go slowly, okay?”

“Go slowly…won’t hurt you.”

Razor sits up on his knees again, drawing your waist down towards him. Before he pushes into you, he lays his cock against your sex - pushing it between messy folds. His expression morphs, his jaw tensing as the head of his cock swells and throbs against your aching clit. It slides and slips so messily, pussy clinging to his hard length. You guide his cock towards your entrance while he leans forward over you. His palms are rough as they grab your hips, hands settling up under your knees.

You can feel his cock as he rolls his hips slowly. Your nails dig into his back, indenting the skin as you cry out. It’s thick, intrusive as he pushes into your tight little hole. Even after opening you up, there’s an ache inside as the head stretches your pussy open. The raw drag of skin on skin as Razor pushes inside of you. You can feel him with every movement, your legs wrapped around his waist tight.

Razor has always had a limited vocabulary. He likes to speak in short sentences since it’s what he does best. His speech now is a lot more developed, but he still finds it troublesome.

It stuns you when Razor's grip tightens and he swears under his breath - a single word, long and drawn out as his cock pushes into you deeply.

“Fuck,”

“R-razor?”

“Feels good…feels so good. Want…move. Please.”

“You can move, just let me hold onto you okay?”

Razor tucks his head against your neck before he fucks you. In one smooth motion, he pulls himself out completely before shoving himself back in. It’s as gentle as he can go, but you can practically feel him shaking above you. How his whole being urged him to fuck you llike an animal. The desperation rolls off of him in waves, his own hands gripping tighter as he slowly finds a rhythm to fuck you in. Clumsy thrust that turns into careful calculated ones as you urge him to go deeper.

“Deep,” Razor pants against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. His voice is a low growl as his hips snap up to meet the back of your thighs with each thrust. Your bed creaks each time he moves, the frame knocking against the wood “I’m deep inside you,”

“Razor,” You sneak a hand between your bodies, clumsily toying with your clit - pleasure ruining your every thought “Harder. Give it to me harder.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Razor gives up on trying to hold himself back. He fucks you with nearly reckless abandon, an impressive amount of strength and weight behind each thrust. His dick pushes in and out of you hard and fast in the most unromantic way. You can feel it all the way up to your throat. It makes the back of legs and and your lower half feel tingly. Your head is blank, nothing but spotted white in your vision. You blink them open to look at Razors face.

He’s biting at his lower lip hard, focusing all of himself on his thrusts. He’s enduring it well. Your insides clench, a fluttery sensation starting to build up between your legs. You can feel it in your belly, the knot starting to untie.

Razor is starting to feel it too him.

“Inside so, ngh - hot. S-something coming, going to—”

“A little more. Gonna cum soon, Razor. Feels so good, you make me feel so good.”

Your mindless praise makes him whimper. A soft noise that echoes through you. You repeat it over and over, in a high voice like you’d praise a puppy. Razor takes it in beautifully, trying so hard not to succumb to his own desires. He restrains despite how hard and how fast and how deep he’s fucking you. You know it’s not easy.

“I’m gonna c-cum, Razor,” You say, at the very edge “Cum with me. It’s okay, you can let it out.”

You cum hard. Harder than you think you ever have in your life, then you’ve ever been able to manage by yourself. The sensation hits all at once, like falling through the sky, you can feel the clouds pushed away by the weight of you coming down through. Your insides tighten and tense one last time before everything releases at once, and waves of the aftershock leave your pussy fluttering. You’re washed with pure euphoria, crying out Razor’s name as you cum.

Razor is quick to follow you. Your own orgasm seems to drive him over the edge, and he cums deep inside. He muffles his cry by biting into your shoulder, groaning as hot seed spills into your cunt with a harsh stutter of hips. He fucks into your pussy, soft and messy before bottoming out and nearly collapsing on top of you.

It takes you a long minute to catch your breath well enough to speak.

You rub Razors back soothingly before you do. He lifts his head, eyes heavy as he looks at you.

“Wow,” He says, eyes wide and blown out. You can’t help but break out into a fight of laughter “Love you…”

“I love you too, Razor.”

“Wanna do it again,” Razor says, looking at you seriously “Can I?”

You feel a pulse of warmth through your whole body before nodding.

“Uhm. Yes. Just give me a break first, okay?”

#razor x reader #gensnhin impact x reader #razor smut #genshin impact smut #writing tag #posts this then disappears forever

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