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animeomegas · 7 months

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The Quest for a Second Life - Part 4 - Potions and Magic and Sex, Oh My! (3)

ITACHI X ALPHA!READER

Summary: This was it. The climax. Narratively and physically. You could safely say that there was potions and magic and sex, oh my. GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple Naruto Characters

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: Explicit n-sfw content. All alphas have penises, fyi.

A/N: It's finally December! Happy holidays everyone! Anyway, enjoy the final part of Itachi's book! I really enjoyed writing for him and his witchy goodness. I don't know if this chapter is good because I'm so tired lol. Next chapter we'll meet the second mystery omega in the second book, no spoilers yet, but I think my dearest friend @omeganronpa will have quite a difficult choice ahead~ I do like to make my gifts slightly torturous of course ;) Enjoy <3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

You pulled back from Itachi and knelt at his feet, chomping at the bit to shower him in love and pleasure. You were grateful that your discarded shirt provided enough of a cushion to keep your knees from being bruised by the rock floor, although at this point, you weren’t sure there was any injury big enough to stop you.

Itachi’s feet were resting on the stone, with his calves and knees pressed together. You gently ran your hands over Itachi’s calves, up to his knees and then back down again, admiring his soft skin.

“Can you open your legs for me, pretty?” you cooed, not ceasing with your ministrations.

Itachi shivered, “I… You do it. Please.”

His desire for complete submission was certainly one of the sexiest parts of his newly discovered temperament, and one you were eager to encourage.

You placed on hand on each of his knees and then slowly drew his legs apart like you were unwrapping a gift. They parted easily, showing a great amount of flexibility in his hips, and soon he had his feet placed on the floor, one each side of the stone slab. Then, taking care to avoid any friction burns, you grabbed Itachi’s hips and dragged him closer to you, until his bare crotch was in front of your face, completely uncovered and unobscured.

The shadows created by the fire accentuated the angles of Itachi’s body, drawing your eyes in a multiple of directions at once. First to his hip bones, then to the valley of his surprisingly toned stomach, and finally, to the star of the show, his rock-hard, rosy cock that curved towards his stomach and twitched cutely as you stared at it. It was a good size, just a little smaller than average, and had a pleasant colour and presentation. All around, it was a pretty dick that suited him, and you couldn’t wait to get your mouth on it.

You glanced up and noticed that Itachi had propped himself up on his arms to watch you. When you caught his gaze, he broke eye contact bashfully. Cute.

The pliant skin of Itachi’s thighs was so soft that you had no difficulty redirecting your focus to them. Watching the skin move around your thumbs as you massaged him was hypnotising. His thighs were also surprisingly toned. Did having to walk everywhere cause this, or was this yet another nod towards his questionable childhood? It hardly seemed like Itachi had a passion for working out.

Regardless, you laid your cheek on his left thigh and gave it an affectionate nuzzle. You also left a little kiss for good measure, one that could have probably been described as chaste had it been on Itachi’s lips instead.

You had been given a blank canvas and you were going to paint it so thoroughly that the marks would stay even if this world reset.

You started at the lower part of his left thigh, kissing, teasing, and biting your way up. Every gasp and whimper that you drew from your witch inflated your confidence and spurred you on further. A hickey here, teeth marks there, kisses everywhere you could.

But then, just as you reached the crease where his thighs ended and his hips started, just as Itachi’s cock twitched in anticipation, you withdrew, starting again from the lower parts of his thigh, this time the right one.

Itachi hissed in frustration but didn’t voice a complaint.

You repeated your ministrations on the other thigh, but once again, as you reached the place Itachi wanted you the most, you withdrew.

Itachi made a little petulant noise this time.

“You’re teasing me,” he accused, the shadow of a pout on his face.

“Hmm, am I?” you teased back, scratching your fingernails over his hips and lower stomach. You laughed as he glared at you. You made to go for his cock but diverted at the last moment to press on one of the love bites.

“Stop teasing,” he said, his pout deepening.

“Oh, so demanding.” You blew some air onto his cock and watched it jump. “You don’t look like someone in a position to be making demands, ‘tachi.”

Much to your amusement, Itachi huffed, blowing some loose hair from his face.

“Itachi,” you cooed, nuzzling his thigh. “I know what’s going to get you feeling really good. Just lay back and let me give you what you need. Your job is to take it, not demand it.”

You had fallen easily and quickly into your role as a dom, the words spilling out before you could stop them. You were worried for a moment that you crossed some lines, but Itachi’s pupils expanded, and the fight bled out of him instantly. Oh… he liked it. He liked that you were in control of his pleasure, and he had just been playing a little at being the brat, not that he was particularly good at it.

You watched as Itachi pressed a shaky hand to his mouth, a healthy blush on his cheeks that was slowly creeping down his chest. Yes, you could tell he was a good boy, not a brat, and you expected no further petulance from him now that you had set your expectations for his behaviour.

Despite all your teasing though, you had no intention of making him wait. Primarily because the saliva pooling in your mouth was becoming unsustainable as every cell in your body screamed at you to take his pretty cock in your mouth and make him see stars.

Without warning, you enveloped his dick with your mouth until your lips were sealed around the base, taking him completely in one movement. Itachi let out an aborted scream, out of shock or pleasure you weren’t sure, but you hoped it was both.

“Ah, fuck, that’s—”

That was the first swear you had heard from him, which only served to remind you that you were the first person to ever use your mouth on him like this. You were the only one who got to see him like this, and that thought made you hot, even in the middle of the Winter.

You hollowed your cheeks and slowly and deliberately moved up and down. The weight of him on your tongue was satisfying and he tasted surprisingly pleasant. You swirled your tongue around the head. Itachi seized for a moment, and when you looked up at him, you saw that his jaw was hanging open.

You couldn’t smirk at him while you had his cock in your mouth, but you hoped your eyes could convey your thoughts well enough.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Itachi was muttering to himself, looking like he couldn’t believe what was happening.

You paid special attention to the largest vein that ran along the underside of his cock, using your tongue to massage and caress it. Itachi’s hips jolted, lifting towards your mouth. He let out a strangled noise, like he was trying to moan and gasp at the same time. As his hips jolted, his cock hit the back of your throat. You coughed, not expecting the sudden force, and pulled back.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. Are you okay?” Itachi looked mortified. He tried to sit up, presumably to check on you, but you finished clearing your throat and placed a hand on his stomach to keep him reclined.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” you said, sending him a reassuring look. “It was my fault; clearly I should have been pinning your hips down.” To make your point, you grabbed his hips in your hands and held them firmly to the stone slab. “There. Now you can’t be naughty anymore.”

Itachi made an outraged noise, “I’m not—I’m not—I’m not naughty.”

“No, not anymore.” It was hard to keep your grin supressed but teasing him was simply too much fun.

“You—”

Itachi’s words cut off as you returned to the blowjob, the argument dying on his lips. He was leaking precum steadily now, but it wasn’t nearly as bitter as you had expected. Was the more pleasant taste a feature of his very healthy diet, or a feature of living in an erotica? Perhaps both. Would the same be true for you? A hypothesis for a later time.

After a few minutes, you pulled off the omega’s now glistening dick and took to lathering the sides with your tongue to give your mouth a bit of a break. You paid extra attention to the head; Itachi seemed the most sensitive there. You used your tongue to circle it in tight loops, occasionally dipping into his slit.

“Oh my god, don’t stop, please, please, please,” Itachi babbled. He sat up and laced his fingers in your hair, still rambling incoherently. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t, I can’t, don’t stop!”

You weren’t normally a fan of your partner trying to guide your head when you were giving oral, but Itachi seemed to be less interested in guiding you, and more interested in using you as a way to stay upright, so you allowed it. You could already tell that, if you stayed in this world, Itachi would have you wrapped around his little finger. Good job he wasn’t a brat, because you didn’t have the heart to tame him.

As the blowjob continued, Itachi kept proving that he was incredibly sensitive. As you kissed up his cock, he whole body shivered, and when you were lucky enough to catch glimpses of his face, his eyes were clenched tight. Any semblance of vocal control had flown out the proverbial window, and Itachi’s cacophony of moans were echoing around the cave, filling your head from every direction. That, combined with the way his silhouette was pasted in shadows on the cave wall, made it feel like you were being entirely consumed by Itachi. You were surrounded by him and his pleasure, and it was the most invigorating feeling imaginable.

This hadn’t at all been what you imagined when you swore that today would be the day that you and Itachi would take things further, but there was something about it that made it perfect.

Itachi looked entirely wrecked at this point, making little ‘ah’ noises whenever you moved your tongue. You wondered briefly if Itachi’s sensitivity was his own trait or born from existing in an erotica. Would you also be more sensitive? You hoped so. Oh! Would you be able to stay hard for longer or recover faster? Now that would be handy.

You gave a particularly harsh suck and suddenly Itachi’s legs came up to wrap around your head, trapping you against his dick, much to your surprise. Itachi didn’t seem to notice, even as you coughed.

Without warning, Itachi plummeted into an orgasm, filling your mouth with his sweet cum. Considering his inexperience, you figured that even he hadn’t known what was happening fast enough to give you a warning.

“Hah, there’s— hngg, how, I can’t—” Itachi was coiled like a spring while he came, his stomach muscles clenching with every shot. Dutifully, you swallowed everything, trying your best to keep up.

After the final shot, Itachi suddenly went limp. He flopped backwards, returning to his original reclined position. His legs fell from their tightly gripped position on your head to lay limply on your shoulders. He was taking deep, shuddering breaths, but didn’t move or speak.

You used your new freedom to wipe your lips. Yep, this world was definitely making everything taste better, there’s no way a good diet would be enough to make it taste like that.

Carefully, you moved each of Itachi’s legs off your shoulders and placed them on the ground. Itachi made no attempt to stop you, physically or verbally.

Once you were free to stand, you went to his head end and perched on the edge of the stone slab. Itachi looked completely blissed out; his entire face was flushed, his eyes were still closed, and his breathing was still a little uneven. You doubted he’d ever had an orgasm like that, and the part of your brain controlled by your base instincts was ever so cocky about it.

“You okay?” you asked, ignoring the instincts and going with the softer impulse. You caressed his forehead lovingly, swiping away stray hairs. “That must have been a lot, huh?”

Itachi hummed in agreement, his eyes slowly fluttering open to look at you. He held your gaze for a few moments, his eyes still lidded, before they shot fully open in panic.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t warn you, and I manhandled you, and I’m so sorry, do you need some napkins, let me grab you some.” He sat up and tried to reach for the basket, but you caught his hands and held them to your chest.

“Hey, calm down, it’s okay. You didn’t hurt me, and I don’t need any napkins, I swallowed everything.”

There was a beat of silence before Itachi’s jaw dropped. You snorted at the scandalised look on his face. He was staring at your lips like he’d never be able to look at them the same way ever again. He looked a little faint, so you poked him on the nose to bring his attention back to the present.

“How was that?” you asked, changing the subject.

Itachi drew his legs up to his chest, “That was amazing,” he said breathlessly.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you said sincerely. You certainly didn’t doubt that he was telling the truth after his performance. “You must be tired now though, maybe we should get home.” It was hurting your heart, (and your dick), to say that, but having just had his first real sexual experience, Itachi might not be in the mindset to reciprocate.

“A little, but—” He looked down and noticed your painfully tight trousers. “Oh! You haven’t finished yet.”

You sent him a wry grin, “Believe me, I’m aware. Sucking you off was incredibly hot and all, don’t get me wrong, but I need a bit more stimulation than that to get off.”

Itachi’s brows furrowed and it was incredibly obvious what he was thinking.

“Don’t worry about me, Itachi.” He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “We should head home before it gets dark.”

You really weren’t trying to play the martyr; that had been intense, and Itachi probably wanted a break, erotica or no. You didn’t want your first orgasm with him to be one of obligation, no matter how much your animal brain was arguing that that was better than nothing.

Itachi bit his lip, looking indecisive, but quickly his expression melted into one of determination.

“Itachi—”

“No. I want to try.” The look in his eyes was one you had seen before, mainly when he was trying to wrangle a new dinner recipe into submission, but also that one time he’d almost fought the waiter in town. It was the look of someone who wasn’t going to be easily swayed.

You hesitated, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now swap places with me. And take off your trousers.”

You did as he asked, throbbing in anticipation. The second your trousers had been discarded, Itachi stood up on his slightly shaky legs and pushed you down onto the stone bench. He then dragged your shirt into a better position for him and knelt down in between your legs.

Your legs were already spread, so Itachi placed his hands on your crotch, head tilted like his was trying to study the outline of your dick through your underwear. The whole situation reminded you of the time he’d spilt hot chocolate on you. At least this time he was aware of what he was doing.

“Itachi, you are so stunningly hot, has anyone ever told you that?”

Itachi smiled, “Only you.”

“That’s a crime, but I’m also glad I don’t have to fight off any competition. Imagine if we lived in a town; I’d be fighting suitors away from you with a stick.”

“Shut up.” Itachi’s voice was full of embarrassed amusement. “I’m trying to focus.”

“My bad.” You mimed zipping your lips, locking them, and then throwing away the key.

Itachi sighed, shaking his head, before focusing back on you. He studied you for a moment.

“I’m taking these off.” Impatiently, he tugged at the waistband of your underwear. You lifted your lips to aid him, and soon he had them off, and the fabric fell to your ankles.

Itachi had been studying you so closely that as its cloth prison was removed, your cock sprang out and thwacked Itachi directly on the cheek, an audible skin slapping noise reverberating around the cave.

“Oh!” Itachi jumped, his hands grabbing your erection automatically. Because he was so close, he had to go a little cross eyed to keep your dick in his sight.

You giggled, pushing him a little further back, just until he was sitting back on his knees. Itachi blinked up at you through his dark eye lashes, looking confused and a little upset that you’d pushed him away. He was so cute, completely out of his element and yet so sexy.

“Slow down,” you said, squishing his cheeks in your hands. Itachi shot you a glare, but the impact was lessened by his squishy cheeks. You laughed and let him go. “First, let me remove these.” You took your ankles out of your underwear and kicked it off to the side. “Now, relax. Why don’t you use your hands first, ‘tachi. Get a feel for it.”

Itachi’s look of determination returned as you gave him some instructions, and he immediately started to explore.

He ran his hands around the shaft first, wrapping you in a fist and stroking up and down. He moved slowly, occasionally looking up at you to see your reaction. He ran his fingers over the head, even tapping on your slit when a bead of precum appeared and then examining the liquid on the tip of his finger.

You were dangerously close to blowing your load all over his face and he had barely touched you. It was just so deeply erotic the way he was using you to satisfy his curiosity and learn what he was supposed to do. The innocence was enticing, but you were also going to have fun watching experience slowly overcome it. You wanted to corrupt him.

‘James, I’m developing new kinks.’

‘Congratulations, human alpha. Is it a human custom to mark such an event with a celebration?’

‘Oh, I’ll be celebrating in a moment, James, that I can promise you.’

Itachi was holding your erection in his palm, almost like he was testing the weight of it.

“It’s hot,” he said, trailing a finger down it. His eyes jumped up when he realised what he said. “I mean, warm, the temperature is high.”

You snorted, “I hope it’s also hot as in sexy. And I’m pretty sure your dick is the same temperature.”

“That’s different,” he mumbled, returning to his task with a pink glow to his face.

His bashfulness quickly disappeared once you stopped speaking. Itachi seemed to be enthralled by your dick. He was rhythmically squeezing at your knot with one hand and weighing your balls in the other. You were tempted to tell him to slow down because you were getting close, but your pride refused to admit that out loud, so you allowed him to continue.

Itachi’s hands stilled suddenly, and he bit his lip, staring down at a bead of precum that was running down the side. You were about to ask him what was wrong when he hesitantly leant in and caught the drop with a little kitten lick.

You didn’t know if it was because this was the first time you’d had his mouth on you, because you were more sensitive in erotica pocket dimensions, or because the lick had been devastatingly cute, but you swore your soul left your body.

‘James, I’m dying, this is it.’

‘You are already dead, human, please do not panic.’

Itachi hummed consideringly as he pulled away, licking at his lips a little. Whatever he found didn’t seem offensive, because he leant back in for another few gentle licks.

Take his mouth, show him your strength, cum on his face to mark him so other alphas know he’s yours. Your instincts were screaming. How could one omega drive you so wild? He was treating your dick like it was an ice lolly. You were about to cum as quickly as a teenager, so for your own ego, you decided that you were definitely more sensitive in porn dimensions.

Itachi suddenly slipped the head into his mouth and began to suck gently.

“Oh, Itachi!” you moaned, toes curling. Itachi looked up at you in shock, almost as though he had forgotten that you were attached to the dick he was worshiping. You affectionately brushed some hair from his face, drinking in the sight of Itachi’s lips stretched around your dick. “Why don’t you try to go a little further down, baby? You’re doing so well; you feel amazing.”

With a determined glint in his eyes, Itachi took a deep breath and then forced himself down until the head of your cock hit the back of his throat. Not expecting that, you almost came at the feeling of his throat spasming and massaging you as he inevitably choked.

“Woah, woah, slow down.” You pulled Itachi’s head back as he coughed. It had felt amazing, but he was clearly lacking enough experience for that to be comfortable, and you wanted this to feel good for both of you. “Deep breaths.”

As Itachi stopped coughing, you wiped some of the drool off his lips and gave him a tap on his bottom lip with your thumb.

“Easy,” you soothed. “You went too fast. You need to work up to deep throating if that’s something you’re interested in. Give yourself some time to get used to it.”

He pouted, “You’re too big.”

“Are you complaining? Because you seem unable to keep your hands and eyes, your mouth too now, off it for very long.”

“You’re also mean.”

You chuckled. Perhaps it was a little mean to tease him about his obvious fascination with your cock, but it wasn’t like you were criticising it. If anything, you loved this newfound part of Itachi. Call you an alpha knothead or whatever, but you were proud of your cock, and knowing that Itachi loved it so much was hot and ego-boosting.

“Why don’t I guide you a bit? I can help you find your limit. Here.” You gently gathered his hair into a mock ponytail and held it in your fist. With that, you should be able to move his head without hurting him. “Open your mouth and put your tongue out.”

Itachi obeyed instantly, even though his blush gave away his embarrassment. See? He was definitely a good boy at heart.

You took your cock in your free hand and rested it carefully on his tongue. Itachi blinked up at you but sat still and took it.

“Get used to the weight of it, the size, the taste, everything. Don’t put it in your mouth yet, just use your tongue.”

Itachi wiggled his tongue a little, creating a pleasant, if a bit ticklish, sensation.

“Good boy.” Itachi moaned a little saliva dribbling down his chin. You wiped it away with your thumb, marvelling at the way Itachi’s eyes started to droop as his focus returned to your dick. You had no trouble believing that he was specifically created for an erotica novel, even with the whole murder backstory thing.

‘James, if I die here, can you make sure that everyone knows that I went out getting a blowjob from the prettiest omega in existence?’

‘It is literally impossible for you to die in pocket dimensions, human. I am worried about how many times I’ve had to explain that to you. Did you lose some of your mental facilities during your untimely death?’

‘I don’t think so, but I’m definitely losing mental facilities on Itachi’s tongue.’ As you ‘spoke’, Itachi panted hot breath onto your cock and you shivered, tightening your grip on his hair instinctually, something which caused Itachi to make a little proud and pleased noise.

‘Human, while I understand those words separately, your completed sentence is nonsensical.’

You tuned James out; you had far more important things to attend to.

“’tachi, try putting it in your mouth properly now, just around the tip.” He did as you instructed, eyes glazed. “Very good, you’re doing so well.”

Itachi tried to speak, but the words were incomprehensible. You hissed at the combination of the delicious vibration and the sting of his teeth.

“Pull off if you’re going to speak, okay?” you instructed. He nodded, so you tried to pull him off so that he could say whatever he’d been trying to say, but he made a noise of discontent and pushed back against you so your dick would stay in his mouth.

Was it weird to say that his inexperience was only making this whole thing better? There was something inside you that was endlessly pleased by having this omega, who had never even touched an alpha’s dick before, worshipping yours like it was his reason for living. The idea that he was so dedicated that he couldn’t bare to take things slow was the cherry on top of an already perfectly horny scenario.

As you were lost in thought, Itachi idly suckled, more relaxed now that you had stopped trying to remove him.

“Okay, good boy, you can go a little further. Try and focus your tongue on the head and the biggest vein at the base.” His tongue wiggled around for a moment and when he found the vein, he looked up at you for praise. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep your voice steady. “That’s the one, very good. For many people, those are the most sensitive places.”

Not that you ever wanted his mouth on anyone else’s dick of course. The thought made you a bit nauseous in all honesty. You wanted to be his first and last. But if you didn’t pick him… someone else eventually would, for good this time. You felt angry just entertaining the possibility. Your upcoming choice was going to be painful if the second omega was as easy to love as Itachi. Part of you was tempted to just tell James that you’d already made your mind up, but you knew you’d forever wonder about the other book if you didn’t experience it.

Seeing that Itachi was comfortable, you guided him a couple more centimetres down, watching him closely, although the wet heat on your cock was admittedly making it hard to focus.

Too quickly, he tried to push down further, but you held his hair tight to keep him where he was.

“Take your time, Itachi, how many times do I have to say that? My dick isn’t going anywhere.”

He growled at you, but you only moaned in response as the vibrations ran straight to your lower stomach, knotting it in the best way. Itachi seemed shocked and intrigued by your reaction.

“Vibrations feel good, Itachi,” you explained, trying to mush out words when your brain was slowly turning to mush. “That’s why—” Itachi started to purr. He started to purr around your dick.

Damn, you really were going to die here. Shocked and pleasured, you let out a little cry and dropped the hold you had on Itachi’s hair. Making the most of his newfound freedom, Itachi pushed himself further down, until only an inch of your dick wasn’t in his mouth. He couldn’t seem to get any further, but he didn’t let that discourage him. He moved his head up and down with reckless abandon, purring and humming all the while.

Eventually, through your pleasured haze, you noticed that Itachi was firmly pressing the pressure point on his palm that the nosy old man in town had suggested. At least you now knew that strategy worked.

Itachi sucked and licked and kissed, moaning loudly, eyes heavily lidded, drool leaking out of the edges of his lips. The noise was obscene, bouncing off the walls of the cave and filling your head from every direction. The extra sensitivity was hurtling you rapidly towards your orgasm. You stomach felt like it was filled with molten lava. You needed to warn Itachi.

“Itachi.”

He didn’t respond. It was like his mind had emptied of all thoughts so that he could focus on your cock. It would have been much hotter if you didn’t need him to listen to you right now.

“Itachi? Come on.” You took the initiative to pull him off your cock. There was a wet pop noise as the seal he was creating with his mouth broke. Itach whined, tugging back towards your cock.

“Baby?” Itachi looked up at you, dazed. “I’m going to cum soon.”

Itachi blinked at you, swallowing a few times before he got the words out. “In my mouth?” he asked, staring up at you.

You hummed, stroking his face a little, “No, not yet. I’m going to use one of the napkins, but are you okay getting me to the edge with your tongue?”

Itachi nodded and went to return to your cock immediately. You stopped him with a hand.

“Let me grab a napkin first.” Itachi shook his head. “No? Why?”

“I want you to cum on my face,” he mumbled, nuzzling at your cock. “Please?”

Fuck. You swallowed heavily at his words and attempted, and subsequently failed, to keep your voice steady as you replied.

“If you want me to, darling.”

Itachi clearly did, because he immediately started to kiss and run his tongue all over you. While he worshipped you, you thought about how hot everything was, and how obsessed Itachi was with your cock. It took an embarrassingly short time to knock you over the edge.

“I’m cumming!”

Itachi stopped licking and sat back, closing his eyes. Quickly, you grabbed your dick and aimed it at his face. The first cum shot felt like you were firing a gun. All that tension, all that build up, the prettiest target in front of you, it wasn’t shocking that it was one of the best orgasms of your life.

The first shot hit Itachi in the cheek. He squeaked and jumped slightly, but his eyes remained closed and waiting. Perhaps you were just too horny for coherent thought, but you thought the sticky, white cum suited him.

Your stomach clenched and the second shot ripped through you, hitting Itachi just above the eye. Some clung to his long eyelashes, creating a striking contrast between the deep black and pearly white.

The third and largest shot hit Itachi in the forehead, some of it getting caught in his hair. You had expected that to be the end, and so the fourth one took you by surprise. You almost doubled over with the intensity of it.

It was then quickly followed by a fifth and sixth shot. Baffled and addled by your ongoing orgasm, it took you a few moments to realise that the porn logic must have been affecting the amount of cum you had, because this was not normal.

It continued until your stomach ached from the prolonged muscle usage, and Itachi’s face was covered in your cum. Despite your sudden exhaustion, your instincts were roaring in delight. You had claimed your omega. You had drenched him so thoroughly in your scent, in your seed, that no other alpha would dare make a claim on him. No one could threaten your bond, not when he was like this. You gazed proudly down at Itachi.

Slowly, the euphoric and instinctual haze receded, and you realised that you were leaving Itachi kneeling at your feet, covered in your cum, without even trying to help clean him up.

“Oh! Hang on! I’ll grab some napkins!” You scrambled for the basket and rifled through it until you had a couple of the napkins. Itachi didn’t move, he just knelt there at your feet. Was he okay?

You held the back of his neck to keep him steady, and delicately wiped him up, starting with his eyes, then his lips, and finishing up with the rest of his face. There wasn’t much you could do about his hair until you were home.

“Are you okay, Itachi?” His eyes flickered open, but he seemed to be having trouble focusing on your face. His scent was calm, and yet still geared towards keeping you attracted to him, and he didn’t speak, even when you prompted him to do so. You recognised the behaviour straight away; he was in subspace. You had been thinking about the way he sometimes got spacy after intense make outs, but you’d written it off because surely there was no way he was that easy to put into subspace. But here you were, looking at the evidence that proved you were wrong.

You gently stroked his neck, adjusting your intentions to be more of what he needed if he was in subspace. You were honoured that he felt safe enough with you, and you weren’t going to ruin that by upsetting him.

“You did so well, Itachi, I’m so proud of you,” you said quietly. Itachi smiled tiredly but didn’t speak. You supported him to his feet, standing yourself too. His shaky legs caused him to lean on you heavily, but eventually, with your encouragement, he found his balance. “Stay there, ‘tachi.”

You peeled the cloak off the stone slab, cringing at the wet spot. The dampness wasn’t ideal, but Itachi wouldn’t be able to get home without its warmth, so you didn’t have a choice but to wrap him up in it. Itachi sighed happily at the warmth, burying his face into the collar, and let you guide him to sit back down, light purrs escaping him.

Once he was okay, you put on your own clothes, also revelling in the artificial warmth. The fire was on its way out by this point, and you had to leave as soon as you could to get home before dark. It was unfortunate that you couldn’t let Itachi come down from his high here in the cave, but being caught in the cold and dark would at least be unfortunate and more likely disastrous.

“Are you ready, darling?” You slipped your hand into his, hoping he’d be okay to walk. Itachi nodded, allowing you to lead him out of the cave. Unfortunately, you really needed him to lead the way back, as you had only the vaguest idea of how to get back to his cottage. “Which way d—”

Itachi stumbled over a branch, and it was only your conjoined hands that stopped him from face planting on the ground. Itachi looked up at you, a confused chirp escaping him, like he was asking you how you’d let him fall when you were supposed to be keeping him safe. It tugged on your heartstrings so much that you immediately pulled him into an embrace and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“I’m cold,” he muttered, pushing his face into your shoulder. While the cloak was charmed, without any clothes underneath, it was also probably pretty breezy.

You cooed, “I bet. Why don’t I carry you home?” You couldn’t bear to have him uncomfortable for even a second, not when you could prevent it. “That would be warmer for you, but you have to show me the way home, okay?”

Itachi nodded, looking relieved, and held out his arms. You scooped him up into a princess carry, and he looped his arms around your neck before settling his head on your shoulder.

“Let’s go home.”

…

You had arrived home just in time to avoid having to stumble through the woods in the dark, and the subsequent evening had passed by in a whirlwind of cleaning, cooking, eating and cuddling. Itachi had mostly recovered by the time you had arrived, even walking the last hour himself, but he remained mostly silent unless addressed directly, and you had to take extra care to help him navigate away from a subdrop.

In contrast, the following morning seemed to crawl by like a snail. It was the day you were supposed to be brewing the potion, but Itachi had insisted on cooking a massive breakfast that had taken him an hour to cook and just as long to eat. He maintained that he just felt like making an elaborate breakfast, but considering the significance of the day, you didn’t know if you believed him. You had a feeling that he was either stress cooking, attempting to show you how good of a mate he could be, or just trying to delay the inevitable.

At least you had managed to entertain yourself by admiring and pressing on his copious amounts of hickeys.

“Mm, if you keep doing that, the food is going to burn.” Despite his words, he arched into your touch as you pressed on a particularly large hickey on his neck.

You eyed the pots and pans on the hob, all of which were stirring themselves. “They’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about; what if you get lonely because I’m not kissing you?”

Itachi laughed, “You’re ridiculous.”

At least the long breakfast and clean up had allowed you plenty of time to tighten up the details of your backstory, ready for your memories to ‘return’. You were grateful for that last opportunity to plan, because now, having gathered all the necessary ingredients, the time had arrived to make the Amnesia Reversal Potion.

You and Itachi were sitting cross legged in the corner of bedroom that he used for experiments, meticulously cutting, grinding, and adding ingredients into his black cauldron. It was equal parts cool and overwhelming to watch potion brewing in action. If you ended up in this world, you were for sure going to learn to make as many as you could. Maybe you could convince Itachi to move slightly closer to a nearby town so that you could access supplies a little easier?

“This potion is extraordinarily simple,” Itachi remarked, dropping in the crushed Amplexus seeds. “No wait times, no stirring instructions, no temperature requirements. I’ve never seen one like it.”

“Weird.”

“Indeed. All I have to do is add the ingredients into the cauldron in the order that they’re listed in the ingredients list.”

“Isn’t it a good thing that it’s simple?”

Itachi grabbed a sprig of thyme and dropped it in, “Of course, it’s just strange.”

You watched the wooden tray empty as each ingredient was added to the potion in turn. The potion turned from brown, to pink, and then to purple at various intervals, bubbling, smoking, and spitting all at once. It seemed a little dramatic, but Itachi didn’t react as though anything was weird.

Eventually, there was only one ingredient left: Cinnamon. How weirdly mundane to be the climax of this potion making adventure.

Itachi added it and then began to stir, wrestling with the hydrophobic powder that seemed resistant to joining the potion. As he stirred, the potion gradually turned into a bright lime green. That was it then, right? That must be the potion!

But Itachi didn’t stop stirring, brows furrowed. He stared down at the cauldron like he was waiting for something more. He even picked up the recipe again to double check it.

“Is something the matter?” you asked, after the silence had stretched to uncomfortable levels.

“Look at the recipe, here.” He handed you to recipe, but you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be looking at. You send him a helpless gaze and he tapped on the sketch of the potion on the right side. “This is a sketch of the potion and it’s a shimmering gold. Our potion is green.”

You bit your lip, “Maybe it’s just artistic interpretation?”

“No, a shade or two different, fine, but a completely different colour? Our potion isn’t correct, but I’m not sure what I did wrong. I don’t even know how I could have gone wrong; it just says to add everything in order!” He plucked the recipe from your grip again and held it closer to his face, as though that would somehow solve the mystery.

It was then, as he held up the piece of paper, that you noticed something written on the back. Did the recipe continue on the other side? You had looked at this over a hundred times over the past fortnight, how could you have missed that there was something written on the back?

“Um, Itachi? Try flipping the page over.”

He hummed, confused, but did as you asked.

“Oh! You’re right! There’s one more ingredient, we must have missed it. It’s written much smaller than the other ingredients.” You silently passed him his glasses, which had been abandoned earlier once the steam from the potion had fogged them up, and he gratefully put them on.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure we can find it somew—”

The sentence died as Itachi finally read the words on the back of the page.

You watched him, anxiously. “Itachi? Is something wrong?”

Itachi’s eyes flickered back and forth between your face and the recipe. Slowly, his face grew pink and heavily flushed. He didn’t speak.

“Itachi? What does it say? Is it something bad?”

Itachi opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Giving up, he thrust the paper out to you before bashfully burying his face in his palms.

Intrigued and vaguely concerned, you read the back of the recipe.

‘100ml of the fluid of a squirting omega.’

You coughed in surprise, dropping the recipe which floated slowly to the floor. Well, that answered your earlier question; you didn’t see it earlier because it would have screwed up the pacing of the plot if you had.

The erotica pocket dimension clearly wasn’t satisfied with the sappy mutual blowjobs in the cave yesterday. It wanted you to fuck Itachi properly, and it wanted you to do it hard.

“Oh. That’s quite the final ingredient.”

Itachi hummed in agreement.

Bizarre as it was, the longer you thought about it, the hotter it became. You had to overstimulate Itachi until he squirted, then use that to make a potion? Hilarious, and deeply erotic.

‘James, who is responsible for designing pocket dimensions, and can I shake their hand?’

‘That is confidential, and they do not have hands.’

‘Well, whoever they are, they need a raise.’

‘Why do they require increased elevation?’

‘Because these are mad times we’re living in James, mad times.’

‘You are not making any sense, human. Perhaps you should turn your attention to the omega in front of you. His body is displaying signs of heightened arousal, and I believe he would like you to solve that for him.’

One glance at Itachi and his newly tented shorts proved that James was correct, so you dropped the connection. Itachi, with his hands still covering his face, didn’t seem to have noticed his own raging boner quite yet.

“Well, at least we don’t have to leave the house to get the final ingredient,” you said, mouth moving faster than your filter.

Itachi gave an embarrassed squeak, peeking at you in between his fingers. When he spoke, the words were hesitant and muffled. “That’s… um, I mean… I don’t think I can.”

“You can,” you said confidently. You figured that it wouldn’t make any sense to set this up as the erotic climax of the story if Itachi wasn’t capable of squirting. “I’ll make you squirt, trust me.”

Your brazen confidence seemed to have an effect on Itachi, who was looking progressively more flustered as he processed your words. His pupils were wide, cheeks pink, and there was a little wet spot at the tip of the tent in his shorts.

Oh yes, there was something about this situation that was getting to him, just like it was getting to you. You already knew he was submissive, of course, but perhaps your confidence in talking about his body was doing something more to him, or maybe the idea of mixing sex with magic was what was making him so hot.

Either way, you leaned right into his space, smirking. Itachi’s released a delicious scent, something submissive, something horny, something to entice you to fuck him. Who were you to deny him?

“Now, do you have anything we can use to collect liquid?”

…

You remembered, on your very first day in this world, how you studied Itachi’s living room to prove to yourself that this hole fever dream was real and find clues about the kind of life you might have here. The room looked a little different now. Itachi had levitated all the furniture against the wall and laid down a tarpaulin in the newly cleared space, creating the illusion of both more clutter and more space that the living room normally had. A large, red bucket stood innocently, front and centre by the fireplace, ready for a not so innocent purpose.

The room was bathed in an orange glow thanks to Itachi’s permanent fire magic crackling away in the fireplace. All these fires were going to give you a complex. It wouldn’t surprise you if you ended up being conditioned to pop a boner whenever you saw an open fireplace. But if you didn’t end up in this world, you were glad to know that fire would remind you of Itachi and your time here with him.

From the ceiling hung a metal bar, about 50cm in length, hanging horizontally from two sturdy pieces of wire.

“For drying flowers,” Itachi had said when you’d questioned why he had a bar in his ceiling capable of holding the weight of an adult person. His explanation didn’t really make any sense, but you had accepted it as porn logic and moved on.

Now though, there were no dried flowers in sight. Instead, from the bar, hung something much more precious. Itachi’s wrists were bound together above his head, secured to the metal bar with an old scarf you had found and swiftly repurposed. He was completely naked again, and although that always made for an enticing view, this particular moment was perhaps your favourite so far. Because your beautiful witch looked utterly wrecked.

You circled him, footsteps crinkling on the tarpaulin, and committed every inch of him to memory. He was shining, hot and sweaty from your games, with the hair that was not scraped back into his ponytail sticking to his face. His chest heaved in an attempt to beat his exertion with enough oxygen, and his hands, tied up though they were, periodically clenched themselves into fists.

Lovingly, you loosened his ponytail and then retied his hair back to include all the strands that had wiggled loose. Itachi didn’t comment on it, even as you pulled his hair away from his sweat-soaked skin. He only panted, head lolling against his extended right arm.

If you had known that overstimulating him had made him look so pretty, you wouldn’t have held out for so long.

“How many is that now, Itachi?”

“Three,” he panted, lifting his head up to look at you. “I’ve cum three times.”

“That’s right.” It had been a handjob, a blowjob, and a rimjob respectively. “Glad to see you’re still with me, for now at least.”

Itachi bit his lip; he was still embarrassed over how easily you’d put him into subspace yesterday. You used your thumb to remove his lip from his teeth and then held it there.

“You drive me crazy,” you breathed, watching his eyes dilate. “I want to take you apart just so I can build you up again. I want to see every face you make and claim every inch of your body. I want to get every artist in the world to paint you, just to find the one that can manage to even get close to your real-life beauty. I want to be the first person to touch you on the inside.”

To emphasise your point, you snaked an arm around his waist and slipped your hand down until you could slide your fingers over his hole. He was soaking wet, and after only a few seconds, you withdrew and held your dripping fingers up to the light.

“You’re so messy, Itachi,” you teased, rubbing your slick fingers together. “It’s like your hole is trying to tell me something.”

“You’re so embarrassing,” he muttered, cheeks going pink. You laughed and pulled him closer, until you were pressed right against him.

“Don’t worry, baby.” You returned your hand to his hole, but this time started applying a small amount of pressure. “Even if your mouth is too shy to admit it, I’ll give your hole what it needs.”

Your forefinger slipped in just as you finished speaking, only up to the first knuckle for now. With how wet and swollen he was, it was surprisingly easy, even for a virgin. Itachi stiffened, pulling at his restraint a little.

“You okay?”

“Fine, it just feels a little weird,” he said, squirming. “It feels bigger than I thought it would, for a finger.”

“It’s normal for it to feel a little strange at first, but I promise I can make you feel good. You’ll be squirting all over the place in no time.”

Itachi made a little embarrassed noise and dropped his head on your shoulder to hide his face. You gave him a little nuzzle, which he quickly returned. You purred so that he could feel the vibrations; you hoped that would help him relax.

“Deep breath.” You pushed the finger in to the second knuckle and then held it there. You wiggled it to help him get used to the foreign sensation. Itachi kept his head on your shoulder, where he occasionally pressed little kisses to your skin, as you worked on fingering him open.

You fucked the single finger in and out, meeting little resistance. The obscene squelching noises forced a shy whine out of Itachi, who you imagined would be fidgeting a lot more had you not secured him to the ceiling.

“You’re a natural, darling, I’m going to go up to two fingers. It might feel uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt. If it hurts, tell me immediately, okay?”

Itachi hummed in agreement but as the seconds ticked on, he seemed more and more focused on fucking himself back against your finger. He was so funny; He always got so embarrassed before and after orgasms, but the build up made him so shameless. As soon as he felt good, all those shy impulses disappeared and you were left with a completely different Itachi.

The second finger went in like a hot knife through butter. Itachi moaned, and with the hand that wasn’t fingering him, you rubbed his back in encouragement. You had originally chosen to finger him like this to give him some comfort as he entered unfamiliar territory, but you couldn’t deny that there weren’t also benefits for you, including the way you were positioned so perfectly to get his strongest, most unfiltered scent. You took a deep breath, letting Itachi’s floral scent of pleasure curl inside your lungs.

“How… How do I squirt?” Itachi asked quietly, face nuzzled into your neck. “I don’t know if I can… how does it even work?”

“I just need to find your prostate and then I can make it happen, don’t worry.” You picked up the pace, fingering him in and out, now with two fingers. He was accepting you so easily, drenching your hand in his liquid arousal.

“A prostate? What’s that?”

Your fingers paused their movements as you froze, shocked. Itachi didn’t know what the prostate was? That couldn’t be right, could it? Maybe he’d misspoken? Or you’d misunderstood? You opened your mouth to ask him to clarify, and maybe also ask if he’d ever had proper sex education as a child, but then you realised that it might ruin the mood to bring up his dysfunctional childhood or imply that he was wrong for not knowing something and inadvertently make him feel bad.

You couldn’t not ask someone though.

‘James? Do you know about this? Did Itachi ever have a proper sex education?’

‘Hmm, let me see.’ You got the distinct impression that she was flipping through pages, although you could neither hear nor see them. ‘Ah, yes. Itachi’s father presented him a book on the topic on his seventh birthday before instructing him not to have any questions.’

You rolled your eyes, of course. No wonder the poor man was confused.

“The prostate is a gland in your body that secretes the fluid part of ejaculate,” you explained, slowly starting up the fingering again before Itachi worried that he’d done something wrong. It was his terrible excuse for parents that had done something wrong after all, not him. If you stayed here, you were going to have to step in and give Sasuke the talk, because neither his parents nor older brother seemed qualified. Perhaps that was one mark against staying here… From Itachi’s sketches, you got the distinct impression that Sasuke wouldn’t neither take it well nor make it easy for you. “But it also feels very, very good. Here, let me find yours and I can show you.”

Seeing as Itachi was taking your fingers so well, you saw no issue in moving on to your next target. You crooked your fingers in search of the gland. It shouldn’t be too hard to find; it must be incredibly swollen after all the previous orgasms. Somewhere around here…

“Does it feel different to—”

Found it.

Itachi gasped hoarsely as you found it and began immediately pressing and rubbing at it. His back arched and his hips jolted as he tugged against the bar. His knees went weak for a moment and his weight dropped back to leaning against you as he gasped for air.

“That’s—That’s—” He couldn’t finish the sentence as you continued to abuse his insides. “Oh my god, oh my god, how, how, it’s so much!”

He shook against you, biting into your shoulder. His moans got louder and more desperate until he was almost screaming. You kept it up until he was leaking all down your hand, some clear drops splashing against the tarpaulin. You pulled the hand from him in a flourish and caught him as he sagged.

There. The next one would be the squirt for sure, you thought, eyeing the liquid rolling down Itachi’s legs.

Itachi was completely limp in your grip. You readjusted your hold on him to make sure that his shoulder joints weren’t too strained, and then focused on bringing him down from that high as tenderly as you could. You stroked his back, whispered sweet nothings, and held him against you as firmly as you could. Four orgasms were a lot for one evening… although with your straining underwear, you reckoned you’d rather have four than none.

Eventually, when he gathered some of his wits about him, Itachi lifted his head from your shoulder and looked you in the eye.

“What the fuck?” was the only thing that came out of his mouth. You almost snorted in surprise at his swearing. “How did that happen? That’s never happened before.”

“I told you that the prostate would feel good,” you said, pecking him on the forehead. “Now, stand up properly so I can fetch the bucket over. I can give you a sex ed talk later, because right now we have a potion ingredient to harvest.”

“Harvest?” Itachi repeated, pulling a face.

You grinned sheepishly, “Yeah, I’ll admit that sounded sexier in my head.”

Itachi giggled a little, but stood up properly, allowing you to let him go and fetch the bucket, which you placed underneath him.

“Now,” you said, wiping your hands on a nearby towel, “do you want to squirt on my fingers or on my cock?”

Itachi’s laughter died off as embarrassment overtook it. You shook your head fondly at his predictable return to bashfulness now that he’d orgasmed.

“I… don’t know.”

“Come on, Itachi, how can I know what to do if you don’t tell me what you need.” You tapped him lovingly on the cheek. You had expected him to become more relaxed at the affectionate gesture, even with the teasing, but instead his face glowed an even brighter red and he struggled to maintain eye contact with you.

What?

‘Human, those are the fingers that were just inside him, meaning he can likely smell his own slick and is embarrassed.’

‘Oh yeah! Haha, forgot about that, thanks James.’

‘You’re welcome, human.’

You withdrew that hand, and while you briefly debated sucking on those fingers to see how he’d react, you discarded that though pretty quickly; you didn’t want to give the poor omega a heart attack.

“You’re not answering my question, ‘tachi. Come on,” you goaded, “tell me how you want me to make you squirt.”

Itachi huffed, still blushing, “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Fingers or cock, it’s a simple choice, my darling.”

“I want… can I… your cock, please?” he eventually whispered, looking at you through his dark lashes.

You decided to try your luck in teasing him a bit more. “Oh? And where do you want my cock?”

He squirmed, “You know where.”

“Do I?”

He huffed again, sending you a glare for all the teasing.

“Okay, okay,” you conceded, pecking him on the lips. “I’ll put my cock in your greedy hole, but you need to practice your begging for next time, okay?”

He pouted, “You’re mean.”

“Maybe, but I think you’re into it.” You ran a finger up his hard cock. Four orgasms in and he was still going strong, that had to be porn logic at play. Itachi didn’t respond to your hypothesis, which you took to mean that you were right.

Regardless, now was the moment that you’d been waiting so patiently for: you were going to fuck Itachi. Properly. You quickly shed your underwear and allowed your cock to spring up, rock hard and ready for action.

All that build up, from the very first time you met him and his beautiful nipples you’d been imagining what it’d be like. And now, as he looked at you, wide eyed and waiting, you knew that it would be perfect, for both of you, there was no other option. You just had to choose the right position.

You debated briefly going behind him and slipping inside from there. It would make the most practical sense considering the way he was tied up, but something about it didn’t feel right. Itachi deserved something a little more romantic for his first time and you wanted to be able to see his reactions.

Yes, from the front felt right, but with the way he was tied, you’d have to do something a little unconventional.

Standing in front of him, you tenderly stroked his hips, one hand on each side.

“Is everything oka— Ah!”

Itachi yelped as you suddenly hooked your hands under his knees and lifted him off the ground, taking half of his weight in your arms and leaving the other half for the metal bar to hold. As carefully as you could, you shifted your hands from the back of his knees to his butt and dragged him closer until his legs were splayed around your hips.

There. This was the perfect position. You could see his reaction, you had a good angle to fuck him, and most importantly, his nipples were perfect height to kiss, which had recently become a favourite hobby of yours.

“Are you ready?” you asked, rubbing your cock against him to cover it in his slick. He was open and ready for you, you’d made sure of that, but extra lubrication never hurt.

Itachi took a fortifying breath, “I’m ready.”

“Relax.” You grinned at him before delicately slipping the head of your dick into him. Itachi gasped, his muscles clenching immediately and clamping down on you like a vice. You hissed at the warmth and tightness but remained as still as possible to give him time to adjust.

A drop of Itachi’s slick dribbled down your cock and severely tested your resolve to remain still, but you persevered.

“Does it feel alright?” you asked in a strained voice.

“It’s much bigger than your fingers.” He leant forward and looked down at the place where you were both now joined. He gulped at how much there was still left to fit inside him. “Are you sure it’s going to fit?”

“Are you in pain right now?” He shook his head. “Then it should fit just fine.”

“I trust you, it’s just… it’s so big.”

“As you’ve said, many, many times,” you teased. “What is it with you and my dick?”

“I’m ready for you to go in a bit more,” he said, pointedly ignoring your question. He could ignore it all he wanted, but you knew he was obsessed with it, and that would fuel your ego and wet dreams for the rest of your life.

You decided you were too horny to press the issue though, because this omega was telling you he wanted you inside him, and you weren’t going say no.

Balancing his weight on one hand, you used the other to rub at his sensitive dick as a distraction. Once Itachi’s eyes fell closed at the sensation, you pushed in another few inches until you were about half way inside.

His gooey walls felt like heaven, and you were stopping both for his benefit, and your own, because cumming before you’d made him squirt would be unfortunate.

“You’re beautiful, so stunning, so perfect, the best omega,” you muttered, trying to distract yourself. You leant down and licked at his right nipple as the urge to taste him again surged.

Bending down to reach said nipple had the inadvertent effect of angling your cock directly into Itachi’s prostate. He jolted, mouth dropping open.

“There, hit there again.” His voice was as urgent as the throbbing dick in between his legs. “There, right there, please!”

You did as he asked, angling your hips again. Itachi shuddered, his arousal pushing out his earlier embarrassment, just as it had on the build up to his other orgasms.

“Put the rest in, I want it in!”

“Are you sure? We should move slowly to make sure—”

“No!” Even Itachi looked shocked at how loudly he had protested the idea of fucking him slowly. “I mean, I can take it, I promise, just put it in.”

You raised an eyebrow, but when Itachi refused to waiver, you decided just to go for it. Internal tears were not sexy, so porn logic would probably protect him.

You pulled on his hips and pushed forward with yours, sliding effortlessly into the wet heat that was more than ready to welcome you.

“It’s so big! It’s stretching me out!” Itachi babbled, head falling back. “Oh my god, I can feel it, it’s inside me.”

You almost laughed; you had never met an omega that was so easy to make cock drunk. You had even heard him talking about your dick in his sleep last night. He was so perfect.

“You love my cock, don’t you baby?” Itachi nodded furiously, drooling a little. Finally, your hips hit flush against his cheeks. “There you go, baby, is that what you wanted?”

Itachi whined, still nodding. “I need it, don’t take it away.”

“I won’t, darling,” you said, cock throbbing at his words. You glanced down and what you saw almost forced your cum from you immediately. He had a tummy bulge. You could see the outline of your cock in his tummy. You felt your instincts clawing at your mind in delight, a slight tinge of something distinctly feral lining your scent. “Open your eyes, omega, I want to show you something.”

Itachi did as he was told, his heavily lidded eyes meeting yours. Several strands of hair had somehow escaped from his ponytail again and were stuck with sweat to his face. He had never looked prettier.

“Look at your tummy, darling.” Itachi’s brows furrowed, but he did as asked. He stared for a moment as though he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. To help him, you pulled out completely, only to immediately plunge back in. Itachi’s stomach flattened out and then bulged as you moved.

Itachi’s eyes snapped fully open. He jumped to look up at your face, wide eyed and shocked into silence.

“That’s my cock inside you, I’m carving out a place, so that no other cock will ever be able to satisfy you like mine. Your hole is going to ache for me now, it’s going to miss me when I’m gone, I’m making sure of it.”

Itachi was staring at the bulge like he didn’t know how to process what was happening.

“It’s a good job we live in the middle of nowhere, because I’m going to need to feed your slutty hole my cock all the time to keep it satisfied.”

All at once, Itachi’s eyes bled red like that day in town, he seized up, and his cock shot cum all over his tummy bulge. You watched, obsessed, as Itachi started to cum from your dirty talk. The bliss that overtook him was so powerful that you were worried he would tug the metal bar out of the ceiling as he spasmed and moaned. You almost forgot that you were here to make him squirt.

Almost.

Recognising that this needed to end soon because Itachi had to squirt and you couldn’t hold in your own orgasm for much longer, you grabbed his hips and set a brutal pace, fucking in and out of him with abandon.

Itachi’s moans became moaned screams as you pounded him through his orgasm, elongating it and then quickly sending him hurtling towards another one.

The position you were in was aiding your pace, as you were able to move Itachi up and down by his hips, dragging his entire weight down onto your cock, using him almost like a fleshlight.

You had never felt more single minded. You were chasing your orgasm with reckless abandon, and the only rational brain cells you had left online were fully focused on making sure you didn’t accidentally give Itachi a mating mark.

Itachi’s moan was now one long syllable, broken only by voice cracks that plagued him on every other thrust. Itachi’s walls were massaging you perfectly, flexing and fluttering in an almost wave-like motion that Itachi was definitely not capable of performing consciously; it must have been an inherent erotica trait.

You had to fuck him, you had to make him squirt, you had to cum inside him.

“Alpha, alpha, alpha,” Itachi babbled, tears slowly running down his face.

“’m going to cum, omega, I’m going to cum inside you, I’m so close.”

“Don’t stop,” he sobbed, pulling fruitlessly at his restraints. “Alpha, don’t stop, I think I’m going to cum. It’s so hot!”

Your knot was starting to swell, and much to your displeasure, you knew you couldn’t knot him if you wanted to properly collect his slick. You had just enough restraint left to jerk away as your knot started to catch on his tie.

Itachi thrashed as you held him over the bucket. He pulled at the scarf and kicked out with his legs. His eyes flashed red under his eyelids. Clear liquid shot out of him with force, and the sound of his ejaculate splattering in the bucket filled the room.

There was no way you’d have been able to hold back your own orgasm at such a sight, and so you followed suit, cumming a load all over Itachi’s newly softening dick, until it was completely covered, and some was dripping steadily to join his slick in the bucket.

You both fell silent in the aftermath, panting heavily. The crackle of the fire suddenly sounded louder than you had realised, and your limbs felt like they were made of lead.

You had never felt anything so intense.

‘James?’ Even your mental voice sounded tired.

‘Yes, human alpha?’

‘Picking erotica was the best choice ever.’

‘I’m glad you are satisfied.’

A laugh bubbled its way up. Satisfied indeed.

…

“It’s done,” Itachi said, stirring the newly shining gold potion. “It took a day longer than expected, but the potion is perfect.”

You peered into the cauldron, “Do I have to drink some of it?”

“No, several of the ingredients are very toxic, so please don’t drink it. I will use the potion to paint some runes on your face, which should trigger the process of retrieving your memories.” He grabbed a little paintbrush and nervously ran his fingers over the bristles. You had done your very best to convince Itachi that you weren’t going to abandon him as soon as you got your memories back, at least, not in the way he was thinking, but it was obvious that he was still deeply apprehensive.

You sat down in front of Itachi and closed your eyes, letting him paint the runes. You were weirdly nervous even though you knew the potion wasn’t going to have any effect at all. Mentally, you ran through the backstory you had crafted. MLHH, you repeated, Money, Love, Health, Happiness.

You startled as the first brush strokes hit your skin. “It tickles.”

“Sorry,” Itachi said, not sounding very sorry. His voice was tense, but you didn’t hold it against him.

It was a strange feeling, after spending over two weeks with him, knowing that you were leaving him behind, at least for the moment. It was a cocktail of emotions. You were sad to leave Itachi, excited to see the next pocket dimension, guilty about being excited… It was a lot.

You comforted yourself by reminding yourself that you could return if you wanted to. No one would force you to leave Itachi for good, that was entirely your decision. You didn’t have to leave him if you didn’t want to.

“It’s done.” You opened your eyes and saw Itachi watching you nervously. Was he waiting for something to happen? Was something supposed to happen?

‘James, is something supposed to happen with this potion? To show that it worked?’

‘Of course.’

‘What?! What’s supposed to happen? Am I supposed to glow, scream, black out? Do I need to act? What do I do?!’

‘You’re supposed to regain your memories, human alpha, have you been paying attention?’

‘…’

You took that to mean that nothing spectacular was supposed to happen, and you just pretended to suddenly gain clarity with a gasp.

“I remember everything,” you said, acting like you were processing the returned memories. “It worked!”

“What do you remember?” Itachi was nervous, clutching the paint brush tightly to his chest.

“I was hiking in those woods, but I tripped and hit my head, that’s why you found me unconscious. I had intended to leave before nightfall, but I was knocked out and got caught in the snow. I was trying to kill time on my own, as my family are away on a business trip, they’re merchants you see, and my best friend is currently travelling for a wedding.”

“You’re from a merchant family? They must want you home soon.” Itachi sounded dejected, but like he was trying to be happy for you. His fake enthusiasm hurt your soul. Thankfully, you had come up with an explanation that would allow you to stay.

“Not really, you see, I never wanted to follow in their footsteps, I always wanted to carve my own path. My family love me, they just want me to be happy, and I know I’m happy here, with you. They’ll support me no matter what. They own a big house that we can stay in any time, but here is where my heart is.”

“And you’re single?” Itachi asked, desperate hope in his voice.

“Completely and utterly single. Although… I would be honoured if you would help me change that.”

Itachi’s face split into a big grin and he threw himself into your arms.

“You want to stay?”

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever,” he said firmly. He beamed at you with watery eyes and leant in for a kiss.

“Forever,” you repeated, but just as his lips were about to meet yours, your vision went blurry, and faded to black.

When our eyes refocused a half second later, you found yourself back in the library, staring at James, the ghost of a kiss on your lips. You were disorientated and already missing Itachi.

“Here, human.” James touched your head and your thoughts and emotions cleared. “Until you have the time to compartmentalise, it is more convenient if I supress conflicting emotions. It would be unfortunate if you could not give the next pocket dimension your full attention.”

“Yeah, it would be,” you agreed, already feeling lighter. As much as you loved your time there with Itachi, you were looking forward to the next book too. If anything, you were even more excited because you knew that no matter what happened, you had a life you wanted with Itachi. Even if you hated this next world, you could pull as many shenanigans as you wanted, knowing you had a safe world to return to.

“We do not have time to discuss anything here. Put your hand on the second book.” You did as she asked, watching as her hand joined yours. “Welcome to the world of ‘Fifty Shades of Audacity’.”

Next chapter

#the quest for a second life #itachi #itachi uchiha #omega itachi #omega!itachi #sub itachi #sub!itachi #reader insert #gn reader #dom!reader #dom reader #omegaverse #a/b/o #alpha!reader #alpha reader #n-sfw #itachi x reader #gender neutral reader

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leiatalon · 3 months

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Ink and Intrigue: Romantasy IF (WIP)

Sail to a lush island of warrior-mages where dragon runes grant immortality and love runs deep. When mystery tempts, how do you answer?

Ink an Intrigue is a standalone Heart’s Choice IF fantasy WIP set in the same world as Their Majesties' Pleasure.

Play the three-chapter demo of Ink and Intrigue on Dashingdon.

Plunge into a world where magic calls the passion in your soul. Join a clan of immortal warrior-mages and choose your kindred: a powerful dragon, a shapeshifting griffin, or a blue-lightning phoenix.

As you train to become a warrior-mage, do you romance or befriend a tattoo artist, a feisty initiate, a playful sage, or a maverick with an unfulfilled quest?

You’ve been a spy for the kingdom of Minare since you were ten, when the king deemed you too clever and sent you off for training. Now a seasoned spy, you’re sent to infiltrate the Kitherin warrior-mages, whose tattoos give them supernatural abilities and whose blood rites bond them to powerful creatures from another world.

When the call of the Kitherin sounds in your soul, what paths will you take as an initiate?

Shop from the finest market in the nine seas, surf azure waves, and dance at a full moon celebration where you might indulge in magical elixirs and intimate moments. Get dragon rune tattoos and learn to wield their power, show your prowess on the sparring field, and soar in the skies of the otherworld. Arrange a marriage alliance, meddle in the affairs of the mage council, incite a lawful rebellion, or resort to poison to get what you want.

Will you confess the clandestine role you’ve played for your king, or keep your secrets and let the past die? No matter what you’ve done, your lover will stay by your side. When you pass your initiations and bond with your kindred, you will be joining the ranks of the Kitherin warrior-mages who bring balance to the interconnected worlds.

Romance a passionate artist, a Fae-blooded sage, a sassy diva, or a master warrior.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary; gay, straight, bi; asexual; monogamous or polyamorous.

Choose high-heat or sweet options, or avoid spicy scenes entirely.

Dive through portals and explore other worlds.

Bond with a dragon, a griffin, or a phoenix.

Indulge in magic elixirs and delectable food.

Apprentice as a tattoo artist and learn about dragon runes.

Go surfing with your friends beneath a full moon and watch the sun rise over the sea.

Explore a steamy island paradise crowned with temples, magnificent gardens, and a hidden library.

Forge alliances as an emissary, gather intelligence as a spy, decide the fate of a maleficent mage, and shape the leadership of the Kitherin.

Uncover the mysteries of the Kitherin and discover the soul-deep love that awaits!

Keep an eye on this blog for updates or check out the CoG forum thread. I'm currently writing chapter eight of nine, weaving all the threads toward completion.

WIP word count getting close to 200k

#heart's choice #if wip #interactive novel #amwriting #fantasy #romance #Ink and Intrigue #choice script #choice of games #magic tattoos #dragons

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shmowder · 2 months

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In P1, it always felt like Artemy glossed over his father's death, like he didn't give much of a reaction nor act like someone would in a state of grief. You get more lines to address it in P2, more opportunities to reminisce about the past and Artemy's childhood. It feels like you go through the stages of grief with him. You watch him miss the dad he had whilst accepting his death. He kneels at the pit of mass graves with the thread in his pocket, witnessing the dead speak and his only question was if his dad can hear him one last time. A stark contrast to how cold-hearted he seemed to onlookers in P1.

It made me question if he even cared that his father had died, if it even mattered to Artemy. Sure he always has shown concern to who killed his father and diligence to fullfill his role as menkhu, but nothing beyond that. Nothing personal, as if he was using revenge as a distraction from facing his emotions.

Sometimes, in P1, you get lines like these.

And it's sudden, abrupt, and completely takes you off guard from how out of tone it feels. How just the mention of his father has him suddenly getting agitated, ignoring the facts. Each time any character mentions Isidor and talks about him freely, Artemy gets the option to tell them to shut up and that they don't know what they're talking about, that they can't possibly understand. It can lock you out of quests.

In one conversation, you get that option 3 times in a row, and you have to avoid choosing it each time so you don't end the quest. Artemy actively has to stop himself from snapping at people left and right so he doesn't throw away all of the progress he has made.

A literal explosion of emotions after days of silence and going as business usual, pretending that nothing is out of the ordinary.

Mind you, that dialogue line above happens in the same conversation as this one below. So by that point, Artemy snapped at someone he considered a friend.

Artemy is grieving, Artemy is distraught, and he doesn't know how to deal with these emotions in P1. So he supresses them, doesn't acknowledge the lines Isidor writes about wishing his son was by his side in his dairy, doesn't accept any condolences nor pity.

He puts a facade of composure since he stepped foot off of that train, a mask of apathy so he doesn't appear weak to anyone in this town. He can't be Artemy the son, he needs to be Burakh the wise menkhu, the warden of kin, the healer his father diligently raised him to be.

He has no time to think about it, he needs to invent a cure, he needs to protect the children, he...needs his dad but that dad is gone.

In P2, he hasn't seen his father in 5 years, but in P1? 10. A decade came and went. How lonely it must have felt, how long the ride on the train back home must have been. How suffocating that anxiety of facing your family after a decade without contact, wondering if his farher would be proud of who he has become. That feeling that you're in trouble when a parent addresses you by your full name and urges you to come see them, it's like he was 10 years again. How could he have known that in the same night he'll come back home to being the last remaining Burakh in town.

#♧Artemy #♧Isidor #♧character study #artemy burakh #pathologic classic hd #pathologic #isidor burakh #pathologic 2

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tainbocuailnge · 5 months

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Another thing that's... kinda odd about the English translation is in the DRK quests, Myste says "A reckoning will not be postponed indefinitely", which is a big line in basically a secret route of the browser game Fallen London. and yeah, it is a cool line and neat to hear it in FF14... it also doesn't really work for Myste? In it's original context, it's about the remains of a dead demi-god-like being, which was cast into a well, seeking a reckoning and leading the player down a route which will irreversibly destroy their character in pursuit of dark secrets.

Which is not what the Myste sections of DRK were about at all, lol.

oh I could rant for hours about dark knight translations. that questline is actually why I first went to scope out the german script, because I heard drk wildly differs between english and japanese and that german generally stays closer to japanese than english does. I translated some of the fray parts here actually, though you'll note I'm a lot more forgiving of the english script in that one because i hadn't reached sidurgu's parts yet löl

german fray and myste are just completely different characters from english. german myste is upbeat and energetic. he loves people who help others and feels a strong urge to help them in turn. he spawned from the dark knight crystal in response to the loneliness of countless dark knights stored within it so he could console them and be their friend, he's basically the will of the soul crystal itself. he tries to alleviate that loneliness by facilitating reunions with lost loved ones but grows frustrated that this only leads to more partings, so he tries to expand his powers to maintain his illusions forever, because more than anything he just doesn't want to leave his dear friends the dark knights alone. he represents the childish wish at the core of every dark knight for a world where nobody has to lose anyone again.

in the part of the quests where you take myste to the sea of clouds there's this bit where in english he talks about his guilt complex and lets slip that this is also your guilt. in german he tells you that he was always with these people who fight hard for others, watching from the sides, until one day he heard a cry of loneliness and since then he's been trying his best to help people too. that's the moment that for me really hammered it in that these languages fundamentally disagree on what it even means to be a dark knight.

in english myste is desperate to atone for everything he's ever done and fray is your self preservation instinct who is kinda mad that you let it get this far, but they have to forgive him because you're all you have as you walk this lonely and bloody path that you have to believe is right. in german myste is your ideal, the desire to comfort those who have no-one else, crying that maybe it's better to forget altogether if partings can't be avoided and fray is your human heart who agrees that parting will always hurt but that is exactly where you find the strength to continue the fight, because it is worthwhile even if it never ends, and the path may be lonely but you will never walk it alone when there are people who came before you and who will come after you who all share this same dream of a kinder world. of course you won't have to leave us, you're our ideal, you're what we do it all for, as long as we remain dark knights you'll be with us. this all flows very naturally into drk-as-shadowbringers-class and ardbert's deal too but since I haven't reached shb in german yet I don't want to say anything extensive about it yet

i still think english drk was cooking with even your repressed feelings being repressed + the part of yourself that wants to protect itself obviously trying to protect itself and thus not wanting to show vulnerability so en fray postures as the stronger one who will protect you instead, and that fray writing in the journal (and only being able to be honest in a place where you're unlikely to look unless you don't know where to go) is incredibly clever. but in the context of how english treats sidurgu and just the way they handle the entire rest of the game really i also don't think that they were intentionally going for this kind of subtlety, it feels to me more like they just thought sincerity is cringe like usual and decided to make everyone cool and edgy (and thus needlessly mean to each other) instead.

and yeah english fucking loves to just yoink lines from other media whether it's appropriate or not. they turned zenos' final words to wol into a hamilton reference in english, "my first friend, my enemy" is a hamilton line, he doesn't ever call you his enemy in any other language (in german he calls you his hunter though which yes is incredibly horny of him). I'll admit I'm not in a good position to judge whatever epic references the german script makes because I'm unfamiliar with german language popular media so I won't spot them unless someone else points them out but I do know that when german fray quotes fight club it just enhances their characterisation as trying to sound cool and intimidating but failing because they're really kind of lame and awkward and can't hide how stoked they are to hang out with you.

#cyborg squid #king of asks #efksiv #ffxiv

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galamalion · 5 months

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⚔︎. 𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐘 (𝐢)

summary. you join mizu on her quest for vengeance, discovering more about yourselves on the way towards her ultimate goal.

⤷ contents. mizu x fem!reader, blue eye samurai spoilers, violence, mention of suicide, themes of racism + misogyny, slight slow burn, slight enemies to lovers // wc. 10.6k

⤷ notes. i don't have name for this series yet, i just really wanted to write something for mizu lol idk if i want it to be reverse harem? probably won't see any taigen or akemi x reader, or x mizu for that matter (mizu only has eyes for you <3) anyways i hope you enjoy this story and what's to come!

chapters. [i] [ii] [iii] [iv] [v] [vi] [vii] [viii]

Pure, untouched snow crunched beneath your worn-out sandals as you trudged behind Mizu, choosing each step carefully to avoid shoving your foot deep inside a snowbank and ruining your shoes further than they already had.

The weather hadn’t been great, all things considered. The wind was a tad too harsh, nipping bitterly at your cheeks and nose, letting the falling snow melt into your kimono and dampen the fabric slightly.

Despite your light-hearted complaints, Mizu insisted that you keep walking. Mizu was nothing if not determined to reach your destination in a day, not wanting to waste any more time than you already had. And so you trekked across the white frosted forest, following the hidden path that was completely buried in snow.

“You really think the man you’re looking for will be here?” you asked, side-stepping a thick layer of snow.

Mizu hummed in response.

“And if he’s not here?” you pried.

“Then I’ll find out where he went from here,” she answered curtly, not bothering to turn around.

You sighed, pulling your hanten tight over your chest. In addition to shelter, you’d also like to stop by a town, a busy one, if you were able. Clothes weren’t a necessity—you could walk a couple more miles in your sandals, and your kimono was at least still fairly new. But on account of Mizu’s proclivities, you were in desperate need of more bandages. You still had a few bundles of herbs and plants you picked before the snow fell, but you were fearful those would eventually rot or decay inside your inro.

“Just try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum,” you sighed, “or at the very least, your bloodshed.”

“I make no promises,” she stated plainly.

You just rolled your eyes.

After a few more minutes of walking, your thin trail ended, leaving you in the midst of a ramshackled town. Mizu continued walking through it, not sparing a glance to anything except for the building that lay straight ahead. A noodle shop, or so the sign said.

You walked ahead of Mizu to get a closer look at the dilapidated building, dodging more snowbanks to reach your goal. As you got closer to the shop, you noticed Mizu had stopped in her tracks, standing still behind you.

Spinning around to see why she paused, you immediately saw three children, the leader holding a small rock and preparing to throw it at Mizu. She turned her head slightly, not quite looking at the children, only just enough for them to catch a glimpse of her unamused expression.

The children quickly ran back to their homes, dropping their stones as they fled. Mizu resumed her stride, stepping up beside you in front of the store.

You lightly poked Mizu’s shoulder, “Are we here strictly on business, or can I get something to eat?”

Mizu grumbled, fishing some coins out as she slid the door open and stepped through the loose fabric that hung above the entryway.

The two of you made your way to a table in the corner, Mizu obscuring her face with her hat and you keeping your head down. As a woman should, or at least in public. Mizu wanted to keep a fairly low profile, and so you were willing to make at least some sacrifices on her behalf. The slight jabs and insults you received on account of your gender, after all, were nothing compared to the ones Mizu received.

“Welcome, sir and madam,” a portly young man said, sitting down beside your table, “I'll bring you some tea. It's not good tea, but it's hot, and you're frozen, and I'll bring you a rag because when I'm frozen, my snot drips. Then a nice big soba. We make the best soba. Honest. Bad tea, great soba. Okay?”

Mizu gave a polite nod in response, while you just stared bewildered at the talkative man. You managed to muster out a ‘thank you’, doing your best to put a kind smile on your face.

The man smiled back and rose to his feet, marching jovially back to the kitchen to prepare your tea and noodles. He was stopped at the next table, however, as the scrawny man sitting there jutted his leg out to stop him.

“Stumpy!” the harsh voice crowed, “more noodles, fast.”

The lanky man sneered as the waiter-cook obliged, returning to his station in the back. His upper lip curled as he turned to the two young women next to him.

“I paid your fathers good money for you,” he snidely remarked. “The brоthеls will pay me even more once you get some curve on, you skinny country nothings. Eat!”

Your nose wrinkled at his loathsome behavior. It was the one thing you were never able to stomach, the gross maltreatment of women, like meat being prepared for eating. Mizu’s perceived appearance as a man earned your envy, knowing that she wouldn’t be viewed in the same way you were. But you knew that you both weren’t accepted in the circles you wanted to join, and that just because Mizu looked like a man, didn’t mean she would be accepted with open arms.

The bald young man returned with two bowls of noodles and tea, setting it down gingerly before you. Mizu, suspicious as ever, sniffed before diving into her meal, while you greedily downed the bowl entirely, placing the empty container down before Mizu could finish her last bite.

“It’s good, right?” he grinned, swiping your dirty bowl away from you while you took your cup of tea.

He left your table momentarily to deliver the tray of noodles to the old man, standing before him with the fresh steaming bowls.

“Finally!” he barked, snagging the face of the poor girl sitting closest to him. “Eat up, girls. Eat it all!”

The fearful girl swatted his hand away, causing it to crash and spill one of the bowls of hot noodles across the lap of the old man, who angrily stood up and slapped the poor man.

“What are you, a dog?” he growled, turning to point a finger at the cook who had just run out. “You let a dog serve food!”

You clenched your fists beneath the table, keeping your head down to avoid exploding. If only by his boisterous attitude, you assumed this was the man Mizu had been looking for. All the men Mizu searched for were similar, fitting into two categories: loud and overconfident. There was often overlap between the two.

“F-Forgive my son,” the man laughed nervously, bowing to the furious customer. “Can’t go a day without breaking dishes.”

The cook turned to his son, anger in his voice, “Ringo, clean him!”

“I’m sorry,” Ringo said, attempting to walk towards the man, only to slip on the noodles he had just dropped, causing the tray to drop the other bowl of noodles onto the man’s lap.

You wished you were anywhere else right now.

“Agh!” the old man cried out, reaching for his chest. You were unable to see his movements as his back was towards you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ringo repeated, desperately trying to salvage the situation by picking up the mess below.

The old man’s hand retracted from his chest, pointing straight towards Ringo. The gasps around the room told you what you couldn’t see. And as the room swiftly grew quiet, you could barely make out the weapon grasped in his hand when he shrugged.

“Ah…I should put down this lame dog,” he growled, bringing the gun back up to point at Ringo.

Ringo stared unflinchingly, as if confused by the man’s words, “I’m not a dog,” he said confidently, yet with a twinge of fear present in his voice.

“Did you just bark?” he chuckled darkly. “Do you know who I am? I am Hachiman the Flesh-Trader, and no one messes with Hachi!”

Ah. So it was him. You turned to take in Mizu’s reaction, only to see her staring straight down at the table beneath you. And, in a moment that made you wish you were deaf, Mizu pushed the table forwards, causing a shrill squeak to echo throughout the room as it scraped against the floor., earning the attention of Hachiman.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you hissed under your breath, praying that Mizu wouldn’t be dumb enough to goad the man with a gun. She’d threatened and bribed men for information in the past, some merchants, and some fellow samurai. They could be dangerous, and they often were, refusing to give up the necessary information without a fight. But they hand knives, swords. Not guns.

Mizu stood from the table and slowly strode over to Hachiman, keeping her eyes trained on his gun as she moved to stand in front of him.

“Impressive,” she hummed, taking small steps towards him, “I’ve never seen a gun like it.”

You grabbed the tea kettle and poured some into your cup, taking a deep breath in an attempt to cool your nerves. Mizu had gotten into worse situations before—none involving a gun, of course, but equally as dangerous. Those samurai that refused to give up, those merchants who feared for their lives, they all died like dogs beneath Mizu’s blade.

‘He’ll be no different,’ you thought, bringing the cup up to your lips. Looking down at your hands, you realized they were shaking ever so slightly.

She placed her hand on her chin, tilting her head to gaze down the barrel of the gun, “Front loading, not a Japanese pistol,” she remarked, grazing her finger across the weapon. “A European design, isn’t it?”

Remaining silent, you sent a sharp glare towards Mizu, who had not yet disobeyed your one request of her, but was getting real damn close to it. Her eyes flickered towards yours in acknowledgement, although whether it was her trying to tell you that she understood your concerns or her telling you that she had it under control was a mystery. You just assumed the latter.

The other customers fled the building, leaving you as the only patron still inside, although you weren’t exactly eager to stay, not wanting to get caught up in the ensuing firefight. Your eyes darted to Mizu’s hand, noticing her middle and index finger were pointing straight down, which was Mizu’s signal for you to leave.

You rose from the table and quickly walked outside the store, not bothering to look back at the standoff behind you. Mizu could handle herself, especially against a crotchety old pervert like that man. All that was left for you to do was wait, and hope that your patient didn’t get herself killed.

It was spring—not early, though. All the snow had melted and it was beginning to pour into summer, the sun becoming hotter with each passing day. You were out in the woods, a couple paces away from your small town, but not far enough away as to have to worry about bandits.

You were on a mission to fetch medicinal supplies, both for your own collection as well as for your fellow villagers who had paid you for your efforts. Mixing and making salves and herbal blends was your specialty, and it had earned you a pretty penny.

On account of being an orphan and lacking family to support, you had to become resourceful. Your former village lacked a structured orphanage, leaving you to wander the underdeveloped streets as a scavenging rat. It was hardly a life, but you made do. Learning that people would pity a poor, starving girl was the greatest weapon in your arsenal, though you knew it could easily lead to your downfall.

Joining a wealthy household would be effortless, but it would come with dreadful and unpredictable consequences. A daughter would only be accepted if there were a son, one you would have to marry once you came of age. Or at least, that was your thought process. Perhaps a family could, would take you in and expect nothing of you. But you were a talentless orphan, one who could give nothing even if nothing was needed of you.

And so, you left your village, moving in the dead of night along the dirt path in search of a new home.

Your travels brought you to a new, ever so slightly smaller village, and yet there seemed to be more people, more faces. At first you simply watched, trying to get a feel before sinking your teeth into anyone here.

And your patience was rewarded, finding your long-awaited prize.

You’d discovered an old man, a doctor, judging by his customers and conversation you’d picked up. One night you knocked on his door, begging on your knees for a place to stay and promising everything you could give. And so, under the guise of being his doting attendant, you began keeping an eye on his carefully guarded work. Over the years you began assembling your own guide, making improvements upon his recipes and even crafting a few of your own. Once he died—natural causes, of course—you lacked any competition.

You weren’t allowed to practice medicine, at least not directly, but you were easily able to play into the role of a concerned woman with old recipes generously shared by your master when you were ill.

And nobody was any wiser, praising you for your teas and ointments and whatever the hell else you managed to conjure up. You could heal sore throats, rejuvenate women’s skin for the pleasure of their suitors and husbands. Who wouldn’t buy from you?

In the end, you were alive, happily unmarried, and had a stable income. It was the dream of so many young girls, and you were living it.

You’d already collected enough to meet your quota, but you were after your own batch of herbs. It was important to start prepping medicine early, as once the first frost struck, everything would wither and die. But as you discovered a rich cluster beneath a tree, you heard an anguished groan nearby, causing you to whip around.

The sliver of an arm poked out from behind the tree, clearly not wide enough to hide whoever was sitting before it. You took a deep breath and carefully circled around to the other side of the tree, keeping a fair amount of distance between as you looked upon the unknown being.

Lying beneath the tree was a man, one you hadn’t recognized. Most, if not all, of the men in your current village were rather hairy and brutish, whereas the stranger was lithe and clean, a pair of shaded glasses covering their eyes. But what really caught your attention were his obvious wounds, clearly injured from some sort of weapon, though you’d need a closer look to really assess any kind of damage.

“You’re bleeding,” you noted, marching up to the injured man sitting before you.

If he was startled by your presence, he didn’t show it, but perhaps his injuries were making him delirious. His side had a small cut, light bleeding and probably didn’t require stitches. The shoulder, however, was in far worse shape, blood seeping out through his shirt and down to his forearm. You couldn’t know how bad it was until you looked at it, but the man seemed apprehensive.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, pressing a thin piece of torn fabric to his shoulder.

Your head nudged towards the sword at his waist, “You’re a samurai, not a doctor. Let me see it.”

“You’re not a doctor either,” he said, pressing his back further against the tree, and away from you.

“Well, I’m the closest thing you’re going to get,” you glared at the stubborn man. “Unless you want to let the old bastards in my town drain your blood.”

The stranger glared back, clenching his fists and chewing his cheek in thought. It was a bluff on your end, knowing that not a soul in your village had any kind of medical knowledge. You could feel in your heart that he was a stubborn soul, and he’d certainly bleed out if you tried to bring him back to your town. Or maybe he’d just be chased out, on account of his strange and mysterious getup.

“Please,” you implored, “I can help.”

He grunted, looking down at the wound on his shoulder, moving a shaking hand up to it before turning his eyes back to you.

“Fine,” he mumbled, gritting his teeth as he pressed on his shoulder. “Just make it quick.”

A deafening shot rang through your ears, bringing you out of your thoughts, but the strident cry that followed it eased your on-edge nerves. It was a garish noise, one that Mizu would never make, especially not in combat. She was more of a grunter.

It was fairly quiet until Mizu came out, another scream echoing behind her as she slammed the door closed.

“Successful?” you asked, trying to gauge her reaction at what had transpired.

“A name,” she responded, walking ahead.

You followed her, a pout forming on your lips, “It’s always another name.”

“This one has a direct connection.”

“So did the last one.”

Mizu didn’t respond, only continuing her determined walk out of the village.

The wind hadn’t let up at all, still blowing snow across your face and freezing the tips of your fingers. But gradually, as you followed Mizu on the path, the wind began to die down, only the snow falling from the sky was left to land on your skin, leaving a tingling feeling as they melted away.

And cold weather aside, the environment that surrounded you was beautiful, from the cliffside view of the water below to the towering bamboo that stood proudly, if only slightly disturbed by the snow and frost that covered it. You took time to marvel at these sights, while Mizu continued to keep her head down, head covered by her conical hat, keeping the snow away without any effort on her part. Perhaps there was more you envied about her than you thought.

Your peaceful journey was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps, though they were still some ways away. Both you and Mizu had turned around, seeing no one in the immediate distance behind you, either. She put a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you behind her as she drew her sword, walking on the path of which you came.

“Stay here,” she whispered, prowling towards the sound.

You shrugged and grasped the knife that was tucked inside of your kimono, watching as Mizu left you alone, though she wasn’t gone for long. Returning with her sword sheathed, Mizu continued walking right past out, resuming the journey.

“Did you find anyone?’ you asked, ever so slightly curious.

“Yes.”

“...Did you kill them?”

“No.”

The lack of explanation in her single word responses clued you in to stop asking questions.

Slowly the bamboo grotto you found yourself in transitioned into small trees, crowded around one another in entangled root systems and branches above. The trees grew sparser and sparser with each step on the path, though they were growing larger, thicker. Soon the trees towered far, far above you, holding up heavy batches of snow with their needles, branches bowing down under the weight of the thick white blanket that coated them.

After another ten-or-so minutes of walking, the two of you encounter a small, decaying temple. It was in better condition than any of the buildings in the village you had come from, standing out among the lonesome path and soaring trees. but it seemed to grab Mizu’s attention, as she began walking up the broad stone steps.

You stopped at the base of the stairs, looking up at her, “Would you like some privacy, Mizu?”

Mizu stopped amidst the stairs, looking down at you below with an expression of pleasant surprise.

“That…would be nice,” she took a few more steps up to the entrance, turning back to you one last time. “Thanks.”

Brushing some snow off your self proclaimed seat, you leaned against one of the short stone pillars, doing your best to find comfort against the rough and uncomfortable material. Mizu shouldn’t be too long, unless she was planning on spending the rest of the day praying for her vengeance. In the past you’d believe that, but you were more in tune with her personality now.

You’d been traveling without a lead for so long, passing through rain, wind, and snow for days without rest. Name after name after name perpetuated the eternal journey you found yourself on, leading you on a wild, unending chase to find a single man. This was the guidance she needed, a direct path to the man in question, creating a new opening for her to walk upon in search of her goal.

Mizu had finally found the spark to reignite her self-righteous fury, and she was going to let it burn for as long as possible.

“You need to be still, moving can lead to the wound opening,” you hissed, tying off the last bandage.

“It’s my arm that’s injured, not my legs. I’ll be fine.”

“Listen, samurai,” you reached for his hand, “you can’t just—”

Before you could get close to even touching his palm, your wrist was caught tightly within his hand, squeezed uncomfortable as he stared deep into your eyes, past them, into your soul.

His free hand, the injured one, shakily went to his tinted glasses, tilting them down to the tip of his nose, giving you the first real glimpse of what laid behind them.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, but no noise would exit your parted lips.

They were blue—not like the sky, they were brighter than that. And yet there was still so much darkness within. He had distinct eyelids, different from everyone you had ever known or seen. And there was beauty in that, but it was a shameful beauty. A beauty that screamed his difference to the world, proclaiming for all to see that he was not like the rest. That a white man had aided in his creation. But to blame a creation for the faults of its creator was a cruel decision, wasn't it?

And yet you could not conceal your shock at his mere existence.

His straightened mouth briefly twitched into a frown before returning back to his cool facade, releasing your wrist and walking away, a hand clutching his shoulder.

“That wound is bound to get infected,” you called out, stomping after the samurai. “And those stitches in your side will need to be removed, not to mention those bandages will need to be changed out with the amount of blood already seeping through them.”

He continued his gait, not bothering to look at you, “I can take care of it.”

“You need me,” you insisted, pacing right behind him. “If you wanted that wound fixed up, you wouldn’t be lying against a tree like you were.”

“I need no maid nor nurse.”

“I have money.”

Although he tried to keep it contained, you could see the way his shoulders tensed up at your words. Or perhaps his injuries were worse than even he thought.

“Let me care for your wounds; I’ll pay for any medicine and accommodations until you’re fixed up. Then we can part ways.”

“Have you nothing better to do?” he pried, a mixture of annoyance and genuine curiosity within his question.

“The only people that require my services here,” you gestured behind you, “are old people knocking on death's door, and women who are constantly pregnant. You are the freshest breath of air I have ever had in my years of living in this shitty village.”

You took a deep inhale before continuing, “Like I said, once we’re done and you’re fully healed, I’ll leave you be. You get a free, temporary doctor, and I get a nice story to tell my future children.”

He stared through you once again, piercing eyes contemplating your offer. From your perspective, at least, it seemed flawless. Doctors were expensive, and as a samurai he clearly lacked any stable income. A free, mobile doctor guaranteed him at least some financial security, although having a companion could potentially lead to unfortunate situations if he were to land himself in danger. Which begged the question: did he have reservations about your safety, or his?

“Fine,” he sighed, head falling in resignation. “But I make the rules, and you’ll stay out of my way.”

He moved to sit on a nearby rock, carefully moving the lower half of his shirt out of the way, giving you access to the injury on his side.

“I can take care of my shoulder later,” he muttered.

You shrugged, moving to inspect and apply your salves.

“Does the samurai have a name?” you questions, dabbing an ointment into his cut.

He growled as it entered his wound, “Mizu,” he hissed, clawing at the boulder beneath him.

“I’m ____,” you said, carefully wrapping bandages around his side. “Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, master Mizu.”

“...Don’t call me that.”

“Let’s go,” Mizu announced as she hiked down the stairs, joining you at the bottom and continuing the path before you.

“Any specific destination in mind?” you probed, leaning forward to see Mizu’s expression.

“Kyoto,” she answered, face unchanging. Truly an envy to statues everywhere.

“You said you got a name from that old geezer, so what are we looking for? A place, a person, a thing…”

“I’m looking for a man.”

“So, nothing new,” you sighed, tucking your icy hands inside your hanten.

The walk wasn’t much longer, the constant crunching of snow beneath your feet filling the void of silence between you two, though its calming effect soon dissipated, leaving you annoyed with each step until you reached Kyoto.

Soon enough you were standing in line before the towering gate, guards standing in front and above the entrance. You’d never been to any kind of central hub before you met Mizu, only knowing less than a hundred people, and that’s after combing from the two villages you’ve lived in. One thing you did know, however, was that women weren’t allowed to enter without an escort. Women in your village would complain about it whenever they had to go out and sell their goods and products, though you never had to leave for your business. Perks of being a monopolist, you supposed.

“Don’t speak,” Mizu leaned into your ear, voice a hush whisper. “Stay behind me, and stay close.”

“Not my first city entering with you, Mizu,” you shot back, folding your hands in your sleeves.

“Next!” the front guard called out, beckoning the next person forward.

A woman and her child stepped forward, showing their travel pass to the guard who sneered at it.

“This travel pass is invalid,” he declared.

You peeked over Mizu’s shoulder to get a better view at the situation taking place.

“My husband is dead. I made the baskets, he only sold them,” the woman begged, “please, or I can’t feed my children.”

The guard rolled his eyes, “You know the rules. Women can’t travel without a chaperone.”

‘Barbaric,’ you thought, sinking your nails into your forearms. Stupid rules written by stupid men. How lucky you were to have a chaperone on this trip.

“Next!” he shouted, not giving the sobbing woman another glance.

Mizu stepped forward and you followed closely behind, keeping your head down to conceal your rage.

“Travel pass,” he said boredly, his eyes briefly flickering to your form before looking back at Mizu.

Reaching into her clothing, Mizu withdrew a couple of coins, flashing the glimmering pieces to the guard who eagerly swiped them up, looking at the next people in line.

You shared a quick look with the daughter who was comforting her distraught mother, wishing there was something you could do to help. Looking up at Mizu, you saw her also gazing at the child with far less emotion on her face. Only a second had passed before Mizu looked away, marching her way past the gate and into the city, leaving you to catch up.

“Are we really not going to help her?” you blurted out as you followed Mizu through the busy streets.

If Mizu heard you, she didn’t respond, just looking at the tall snow-covered buildings lining the streets, colorful banners adorning detailed walls.

“Mizu—”

“There was nothing I could do, ____,” she scolded, turning back to look at you. “It would have caused more trouble than it was worth. I can’t afford to bring two more girls into the city, and there was no way anyone there would have left me.”

You exhaled shakily, clenching your fists and taking deep breaths in order to calm down.

“It’s just not fair,” you muttered, looking down at your feet.

Mizu sighed, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, “I promise I will try to do something for them.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, bringing your head up to look at her face, those kind and thoughtful eyes hiding behind her glasses.

She stepped away briefly, attempting to approach strangers for directions with little results. It almost caused you to feel embarrassed for her unfruitful efforts, if not for the three horses barreling straight towards her.

“Mizu, watch out!” you shouted as Mizu caught sight of the incoming horses, shooting backwards in response.

“Watch it, asshole!” the lead rider yelled, pulling on the reins of his horse.

You ran up beside Mizu, glaring at the pompous man. Mizu stuck and arm out in front of you, a silent message to contain your anger, lest you get the both of you in trouble.

“Apologies,” Mizu said, mouth pressed into a straight line, “I’m looking for something, but Kyoto is quite large. Do you know where I could find the Shindo Dojo?”

“Shindo?” the man to his left scoffed, peering down at the two of you. “That’s our dojo, and you think you’re going to apply?”

The man to his right laughed, “You look like a blind beggar!” He took his riding crop and slapped Mizu’s glasses off.

All three chuckled, pleased with their actions, one nodding his head at you.

“Are you really traveling with this guy, lady?” He extended his hand to you. “Hop on and I’ll take you for a real ride.”

Your lip curled in thinly veiled disgust, “Thank you for the offer, sir, but I’m quite pleased with my current situation.”

Mizu let out a long sigh, putting on a smile, “If you would please show me how to find your dojo, I would be grateful.”

“Sure,” the left man said, “follow the road to the shrine. Once you go around the gates, you'll see the sign across the puppet show.”

“Good luck!” they called back, laughing as they rode. You spit on the ground they had been as their horses galloped away.

Wiping off the snow that had been kicked up onto her shoulder, Mizu began to follow the directions given to her, leaving you to do most of the talking, as per usual.

“Bastards,” you growled, “pissants, the lot of them.”

“Calm down,” Mizu ordered, searching for your destination.

“Calm down? Calm down? Those cocky dickheads deserve every misfortune they come across.”

“Keep your eye out for a puppet show.”

“And the way he thought I’d just crumple to my knees and get on his stupid horse! Can you believe that?”

“Around the gates…”

“Not even mentioning the way they treated you, as if you couldn’t kick their asses with one arm tied behind your back. Shindo Dojo my ass.”

“There are consequences for attacking without consent of a duel first, and the last thing I want to do is be sent to prison for something as foolish as defending my honor,” Mizu said, turning the corner.

“Would you defend my honor?” you smiled, waiting for an answer.

“No.”

Well, it was an answer, at least.

The bustling city around you left no room for conversation, only the need to dodge passersby and merchants attempting to sell you goods that you had no use for. As you walked further and further into the city, the traders trickled away, only peeping men lined the streets now, peering inside the countless brothels.

“Why would a dojo be in a red light district?” you pondered aloud, trying your best to not make eye contact.

“For once,” Mizu answered, nose scrunched up, “we’re having similar thoughts…”

Your destination was only a few buildings down, and judging by the lewd ongoings within, was certainly not the Shindo Dojo.

“You two look lost,” a sultry voice cooed, arms stretching out to grab you and Mizu.

Standing in front of the brothel were two very dressed up women, crimson dusting their cheeks, matching the vibrant red that decorated their lips and eyes.

“We were just leaving,” you asserted, shaking out of their hold.

The woman laughed, going over to hug Mizu’s arm, “Why don’t you come inside, lost boy? Rest a while…with us.”

You found it difficult to conceal your revulsion, not eager to picture Mizu having relations while you had to wait in the other room. Though judging from Mizu’s shocked face, she didn’t seem too fond of the idea either.

“I’m looking for the Shindo Dojo—” she began, quickly interrupted by an old man being thrown out of the brothel. A naked, old man.

“Which, I can see…” Mizu grimaced, “this is not.”

“You think?” you snorted, earning a dirty look from Mizu.

“It’s better,” the shorter prostitute said, smiling. “It's the Shindo House. If it’s sword skills you’re wanting to show off, you can do it here.”

The taller prostitute grinned, “We can polish up the tip for you…”

A shudder went down your spine at the sight of their flirtations, giving you the strength needed to put an end to this conversation.

“We’re terribly busy, and have urgent business at the Shindo Dojo,” you insisted, trying to pull Mizu away from the women.

“Oh, are you sure, little pearl? If you wanted to join in, all you had to do was ask. Jealousy is a painful vice,” the tall one purred, snaking her arm around your shoulder. “And there’s no fee for adding a third…unpaid party.”

You could feel the heat flooding to your face, unable to even sputter in response to her offer.

A hand suddenly struck out between you and the woman, grabbing her wrist and gently removing it from your shoulder. Mizu glared at the woman, watching coldly as she shrunk away from you.

“You’re serious, huh?” the short woman smirked, nudging her coworker to step away from you. “Alright, love birds. Walk east to the Kamo River. Take the bridge to the temple with the thousand creepy statues. It's on the hill just past.”

Mizu’s head swiftly dipped into a bow, not looking up at you.

“I wish you a successful day of business,” she muttered, covering her face with her hand as she began raising her head up.

Interrupting her bow, however, was a loud crash from the puppet stand behind you. Looking at the show, or rather, what remained of it, revealed a portly young man standing above the wreckage. The same young man from the noodle shop.

“Hey, Mizu, isn’t that—”

“How much for one night?” she quickly asked, noting the price given to her.

“...How much for three.”

“Mizu,” you began, “would that man, by chance, be the person following us on our way here?”

“I didn’t think he’d get out of those ropes,” she groaned, walking across the expansive bridge.

“You tied him up?” you gawked, staring in shock at her nonchalant attitude.

“I could have killed him,” she pointed out, bringing a hand up to crack her neck. “I was merciful; he would have disrupted my quest.”

“And I don’t?”

“You provide a service.”

“Don’t make me sound like your pocket prostitute,” you half-heartedly teased.

Mizu sputtered, her collected facade briefly crumbling after hearing your words.

“I—ahm, hadn’t meant to imply—”

“Make way for Princess Akemi!” a voice rang out some distance behind you.

Traveling down the bridge from where you had just come was a gold accented palanquin being carried by an assortment of attendants. Those walking alongside you quickly made their way to the sides of the bridge, bowing before the royalty before them.

A tug on your sleeve by Mizu pulled you out of the way, standing beside her as the palanquin passed by you. Through the bars of the carrier you could see its passenger, the Princess Akemi, or so they announced. Perhaps you could have quipped about her status, the fact that she probably looked down on everyone around her. Or maybe her vanity, refusing to use her own feet to walk anywhere, relying on servants to carry her to and fro.

But a single glimpse of her face left you wordless—breathless. The makeup she wore only enhanced her best features, though it looked like all her features were her best. One look at Mizu confirmed you felt the same, her lips parting slightly as the palanquin continued down the bridge.

“She’s awfully pretty,” you sighed wistfully, watching the palanquin disappear into the city.

Mizu cleared her throat, regaining her wits, “Beautiful women can be found everywhere. It is our status that defines our beauty to the world.”

“It’s alright, Mizu,” you shrugged, “jealousy is a normal emotion, even for samurai.”

“I am not jealous,” she swiftly defended herself.

“Denial is an even worse look,” you sang, following her along the final stretch of bridge as you made your way up to the dojo.

It stood atop a hill just above the city, a single lone temple amidst a barren field it was laid upon. A lonely dojo, in your opinion, although the path to it was rather serene.

“If I have to walk up any more stairs, Mizu,” you groaned, approaching the temple, “we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Air your grievances now, then.” she curtly replied, moving to hit the door knockers. “Walking is only a small part of this journey.”

“Then why is it all we do?” you muttered, crossing your arms.

A small slit opened after a couple seconds, revealing the judgemental eyes of a man.

“No new students, find another school,” he barked, shutting the opening.

“Pretentious, aren’t they?” you snickered.

Mizu rolled her eyes and banged on the door again, the man appearing quickly.

“I’m not a student,” she said, annoyed, “but I do bring a message for the master of this place.”

The opening shut, only for one at the bottom to reveal itself, a hand sticking out expectantly.

“I must deliver it personally,” Mizu muttered, eyes narrowing.

The man vanished from the slit, shutting it behind him. Only a few moments passed between you and Mizu before the grand entrance began to slowly open, revealing the incredibly vast courtyard to you.

Mizu began walking forward to join the sentry, only for him to raise a hand towards you.

“Women are forbidden from entering the dojo,” he said solemnly, taking up a cold expression as he refused you entry.

You tightened your shoulders, standing straight and giving the man your best smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.

“Oh, sir, I must beseech you,” you pleaded, running up and clinging to his robes. “For he is my husband, and I would loathe to separate from him even for a single second! I fear what may happen to me if he were to disappear from my sight, for he is my protector, and I his perfect blossom. That is why I beg you, do not allow us to be apart!”

The sentry turned to Mizu for a response, raising an eyebrow.

She cleared her throat and you could immediately tell she would be giving you a dirty look if she had not been so surprised by your improvisation.

“...Yes, I would be most pleased if my wife were to accompany me. She is rather…frail and weak, and it would break my heart if anything were to happen to my…wife…” she said, her less than convincing acting leaning heavily on your own performance.

“Fine,” he grimaced, peeling you off. “But you are not permitted to speak in this place, keep your head down and your mouth shut.”

You smiled in response, walking over to join your ‘husband,’ looping your arm into his beneath his shawl, smirking internally at her pink-dusted face.

Arm in arm you walked up to the main room of the dojo, passing by different groups of men training. You could tell that Mizu was alert, noting each and every person you passed on your way to meet the head.

Upon entering the sweeping room, you kneeled beside Mizu, keeping your head bowed so as to not cause any disturbance during her negotiations. Though the man in front of you seemed unconcerned with your behavior, if interested in you at all.

“You may leave any message with me,” he spoke, not pausing his calligraphy.

“What must be said must be said to the master directly,” Mizu pressed.

“I assure you, what is for the master is for me,” he continued, “as I assure you the master does not meet with messengers.”

“He will for me.”

Her blatant disrespect caused the man to pause, setting his brush down and looking directly at her.

“You stand before the Shindo School.” He stood from his table. “For 200 years, we have taught here the Shindo-Ryu, secret methods passed down from Priest Soto, taught to him on the peak of Mount Kurama by the mystic Tengu themselves,” he snarled. “Show your respect!”

Mizu continued to stare at the floor, unaffected by the man’s long speech.

“I must insist,” she said.

The man’s mouth pressed into a thin line, looking at the samurai standing behind you both.

“Escort them anywhere you please that is far from here,” he ordered.

One man, a part of the group that harassed you when you arrived in Kyoto, stepped forward and reached an arm out, “Come on, you blind beggar.”

“You are bound by hospitality to feed a traveler within your gate,” Mizu said hurriedly. “My wife and I came very far, and we’re very hungry. Or has the Shindo Dojo done away with etiquette?”

His lip curled in annoyance at Mizu’s demands, “Feed them,” he sneered, “then throw them out.

The samurai surged for your arms, dragging you down hallways and into a cramped storage room with a single barred window.

“Eat,” one said, chucking a bowl of rice (if you could even call it that) onto the small table, “then take your whore and get out.”

They laughed heartily at their insults, taking their leave and slamming the door shut behind them, leaving you and Mizu alone.

You chose to sit on top of a barrel while you waited, observing Mizu’s face as she watched the training going on outside, a tiny smile finding its way on her lips.

“Daydream all you want,” you spoke up, “but you’re the one who’s gonna have to come up with a plan.”

She broke away from her view, turning to look at you with a glint in her eye.

“I already have one.”

“Move it, you two,” the samurai ushered, pushing you forward as you walked through the turning halls.

Mizu stopped in her tracks, remaining still despite their threats.

“This will be much simpler if you allow me to speak with your master,” she said slowly, not bothering to look at them.

“Mizu,” you hissed, “don’t make this any more difficult.”

“You heard your wife, beggar boy. No one sees the master, least of all you.”

One stretched their hand out, aiming to grab your shoulder, only for Mizu to step in between the two of you.

“I cannot leave here until I speak to the master of this dojo,” she pressed as he attempted to dislodge her, unable to do so.

“Oh, good,” the men chuckled, drawing their swords. “We get to kill you.”

Mizu’s fingers extended, pointing her middle and index downwards. You smiled, giving a polite bow before continuing the path out of the dojo, arriving at the entrance to the main room. Stepping out into the thin snow and leaning against a pillar, you removed your inro, unpacking the supplies you might need after Mizu’s activities.

You could hear the events going on inside, a mixture of yelling and screaming, of rage and pain brewing within the fighters. Not a peep from Mizu, however. Soon enough, the old samurai from earlier—perhaps he was second in command, though you didn’t exactly care—came running outside, nose bleeding and with a nasty mark spanning diagonally across his face. It seemed that Mizu was getting excited.

“See you later, samurai,” you cooed as he sprinted out of the dojo and through the gates, leaving you alone to laugh at his cowardice.

You hadn’t expected him to return, however.

Entering through the wide open gates, followed by the older man, was a much younger one. He wore a green kimono decorated with the symbol of the dojo, hair tied back into a tall bun with stray pieces framing his face.

“You come to fight, pretty boy?” you teased as he approached, still fiddling with your supplies.

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow at your words, “You? I was told—”

“Inside, dumbass. Does it look like I’m a warrior?” you sneered, rejoining your inro to your obi.

The old man’s eyes widened at your disrespect, “How dare you, a woman—!”

“You got your ass kicked by some country boy. Come back and correct my attitude after you’ve killed him, you shitty old man.”

It seemed impossible for his eyes to get even bigger, but after your words they seemed to be the size of plates.

He attempted to march up to you, only to be stopped by the young man.

“We can deal with this after the samurai is dealt with,” he reasoned, giving you a dirty look.

You laughed to yourself as they entered the dojo, leaving you alone outside once again.

The familiar sounds of fighting broke out shortly after the man’s entrance, joined in harmony by the harsh sounds of breaking wood, undoubtedly caused by Mizu’s quirk of using the environment around her to fight. It was fun to watch, until you had to pay the bill for a duel inside an inn.

Eventually, the noises began to grow louder—no, closer. You caught a glimpse of the chaotic symphony as Mizu and her enemy, the young man from before, fought their way into the main room. Before you could even blink, Mizu had been thrown across the room, a wooden sword hurled right at her.

“With a naked blade,” he scoffed, “you’d be dead.”

You immediately stood up and ran towards her, picking up her fallen glasses as you made your way over. She brushed you aside, however, turning her neck to look at the young man, not bothering to shield her eyes.

A small gasp left him, his cocky demeanor quickly vanishing the moment he laid saw her.

“You had a name for me,” she stated, rising to her feet.

“Taigen, you cannot allow that to dishonor us or you,” the old man commanded, fuming at Mizu. “Kill him.”

The battle quickly changed to a formal duel as the two young samurai made their way outside to take the other’s life. You followed Mizu, standing a fair distance behind her to give her space to butcher the man. Taigen, or so he was called.

He drew his weapon first, discarding the sheath onto the fresh snow below and pointing it directly at Mizu.

“Are you afraid to fight with steel?” he asked, brows furrowed in determination.

You snorted at his comment.

Mizu just chuckled softly, “Thank you,” she said with a smile. “No one has yet deserved my blade.”

She slowly removed her sword from her sheath, drawing the magnificently crafted blade and wielding it with two hands, taking a stance before Taigen.

“You have a blade by Master Eiji?” he gawked, only serving to change Mizu’s smile to a snide grin.

A tense moment was shared between the two, and all you could do was stand by and watch. You knew Mizu was smart, least of all capable. She wouldn’t throw her life away in some stupid duel, not when she still hadn’t gotten her revenge. This was just a simple stop on the way, something to remind her of what was at stake.

Mizu wouldn’t lose, not here.

Taigen was first to act, running up to Mizu with his sword at his side, prepared to strike. She reacted unusually, however, breaking in a crouch and swinging her sword at the ground, kicking up a flurry of snow. Taigen hardly faltered, only spinning around to avoid blinding himself and swung his sword across to hit Mizu. His maneuver was a short-lived victory, as Mizu ran her sword beneath him, the blades moving across one another and letting sparks fly.

Mizu had made the first wound, slicing a shallow cut into Taigen’s neck, crimson drops of blood blotting the pure white snow beneath them.

The next strikes were harsh, as Taigen hadn’t so much as flinched at his injury, striking with the same vigor he had before. Despite Mizu’s skills, Taigen found a hole in her defense, using his strength to his advantage to press his sword into her shoulder and throw her to the ground, knocking her blade away.

You felt your body grow cold as Taigen stomped over to Mizu, angling his sword to her neck. Was it really going to end like this? All that traveling, killing, and plotting, just for Mizu to die at the hand of some low life samurai?

“Death comes for everyone,” Taigen spat, bringing the blade closer to her. “For you, today.”

He turned around and gave a nod to his fellow samurai behind him, giving Mizu one final look before sending a hard kick into her chest as a final blow to her and her ego.

You attempted to rush to her side, only to receive a scowl from Mizu, stopping you in your tracks. From your current viewpoint, she looked relatively uninjured, at least nothing terribly deep. She was clutching her shoulder, but the cut looked shallow. The doctor inside begged you to ignore her scornful face and help her, to put your work to good use, though you knew her anger would be twofold what it was if you were to intervene.

You watched intently as she brushed a fistful of snow across her face and swept her lingering strand of hair out of the way, those sapphire eyes shining with anger as they shot open.

She reached for her arms, pulling a string and releasing the weights that had been wrapped around her forearms. Repeating the action to the other arm, as well as her ankles, Mizu made eye contact with Taigen who turned around to witness her revitalization.

Reaching for her sword with lightning fast reflexes, she charged towards Taigen and side-stepped his attack, disarming him without a second thought and dealing a brutal slice to his calf. Disoriented and in pain, Taigen was easily lifted and tossed, skidding across the snow and meeting the edge of Mizu’s blade.

The two were panting heavily from exhaustion, whereas you were releasing a breath you’d been holding for the past minute. Mizu had bested her opponent and lived, earning you another day of employment.

“Stop!” a strong voice bellowed, their cry echoing across the courtyard of the dojo.

Your eyes darted to the new figure, one dressed more elegantly than his fellow samurai, a dark kataginu worn over top of his burnt orange kimono.

Mizu joined you in gazing at the man, still out of breath, “You, are the master of this school?” she panted.

He gave an affirmative hum.

“Your students need better training,” she quipped, withdrawing her blade from Taigen’s throat.

“You have a message for me,” he said, the command of a leader in his voice.

“A question,” she corrected, putting strong emphasis on her next words. “Where may I find your brother, the black market merchant Heiji Shindo?”

You felt your eyes go wide at her words, unknowing of her plan during your travels to Kyoto. All this? Just for the name of another man? You had to clench your teeth in order to stop yourself from interrupting their conversation.

The man was just as shocked as you, a myriad of expressions moving across his face all at once, finally arriving to dwell in his voice as he spoke, “You did all this to find my brother? Why?”

Mizu’s blade returned to Taigen’s throat, a silent threat to prevent any more prying questions.

Clearing his throat, he answered with an air of mustered strength, “Heiji Shindo is in the fortress on Tanabe Island, protected by the Genken Clan,” he said, beginning to narrow his eyes. “Whatever business you have with him, you will never reach him.”

Without another word, Mizu sheathed her sword and gave a mockingly polite bow to the head before walking to your side.

“You're still…a dog.” Taigen groaned, attempting to gain his bearings from the ground.

Helpless and unwilling to stop Mizu’s righteous anger, you simply watched as she whipped around and slid across the ground, not even bothering to unsheath her sword for an unworthy opponent such as Taigen. The blade made its purchase, swinging just inches above his head and decapitating his top knot with the talent and skill of an unrivaled barber.

His golden hairpiece clattered to the earth, softened by the lingering snow it landed upon. Mizu scooped it up and tucked it into her shirt, continuing her pace without sparing a look towards the countless wounded samurai behind her.

The glimmering hairpiece was tossed into your hands as Mizu walked past you, stepping past the towering gates with you in tow, finally making your exit from the dojo she had undoubtedly made a fool of.

“Heiji Shindo, huh?” you said, breaking the silence as you both descended the path down the hill. “Can we buy horses this time around?”

“No,” she immediately responded, “we need to be careful, at least while leaving this city. I have made enemies of many men here.”

“Well, I’m assuming you’ve fully removed their ability to ride a horse, though I don’t really care to hear how you did it…” you trailed off, trying your best to not imagine the horrors Mizu inflicted on those pitiable samurai. “Could we buy horses in the next city? We’ll be farther by then, putting more distance if there are people after us.”

“If you can afford it, then we can buy two. Until then, we walk.”

“Two? Why, my dear husband, we only need to buy one!” you sang, reveling in the way Mizu’s body briefly froze up at the intimate word. “Unless you want your useless, obedient wife to ride alone.”

“...I have no comment for your unending teasing,” she finally replied, crossing her arms.

“If you want to see teasing, you should turn around.” You finished securing her conical hat to your head, tying the last knot just as Mizu turned around to see you, letting you see the newly-formed pout on her rosy face as she saw you in her hat.

“Enough,” she ordered, stopping in front of you to reclaim her headgear, standing at least two heads above you.

“I think it suits me,” you whined while copying her pout, unable to stop her from reclaiming her hat.

She adjusted her hat and quickly tied it beneath her chin, continuing the walk through the cold, empty streets of Kyoto. The wind had kicked up since your time at the dojo, blowing harshly through the streets and depositing snow onto the roofs above. It made you wish you held onto Mizu’s hat for just a little longer, if only to escape the snow falling into your hair.

The gates at the front of the city opened for your exit, letting you step out onto the path leading into the forest. You stopped, however, noticing the mother and daughter from earlier, from when you first arrived in Kyoto. They were freezing, icy puffs of air pulled from their lips as they huddled close together for warmth. Your heart tugged towards them, clenching your fists in a moment of helplessness. The hairpiece gently pricked the walm of your hand as you squeezed, and you reopened it, looking at the expensive decoration and dropping it near their huddled forms.

You did your best to remain quiet as you walked away and down the path, into the sparse woods alongside Mizu. The trees did not grow in number as you walked, only growing in age, becoming thicker and taller, framing the night sky above. Mizu stopped in the middle of a clearing, causing you to stop behind her, trying to give her some space. You could tell she was looking up to the cloudy sky, and although you could hear her mumbling, you couldn’t catch the words in full.

You were, however, able to catch the familiar red droplets of blood that landed and melted into the snow below, reminding you of Mizu’s forgotten shoulder wound.

“You couldn’t have reminded me?” you hissed, stomping over and throwing her arm across your shoulder, which she brushed off.

“It’s my arm, not my leg,” she reasoned.

“If you didn’t want me to play doctor, you shouldn’t have brought me.”

“You brought yourself,” she snorted, turning her head in a different direction. “There’s a hot spring that way, you can ‘play doctor’ when we get there.”

You rolled your eyes, following her as you made your way to the hot spring. It was more impressive than you thought, multiple spouts of water differing in intensity spilling into the warm pool below, life barely blooming amidst the freezing conditions surrounding it.

Mizu began removing her accessories while you removed your inro, gathering your needed supplies to care for her wound.

“You need help with your bandages?” you asked, gesturing to her chest.

“I’ve got it,” she said, giving one last look around before letting her hair down.

She slowly removed her clothes, unwinding the bandages that bound her chest tightly. You did your best not to look, giving her much needed privacy as you began to undress yourself, folding your kimono nicely and resting your inro on top.

“Mind if I take a look at it, Mizu?” you politely requested, sinking your body into the warm spring.

Mizu hummed, joining you into the water. Her body wasn’t entirely covered by the water from where she was standing—as well as her height, leaving her to stand awkwardly as you inspected her wound. It was both worse than you thought and better than you expected, long but not deep. The wrapping would be awkward, but infection wouldn’t be a worry, especially after this short bath.

It took all the strength you had to keep your eyes trained on her upper chest, though, luckily, her lower chest was being covered by her arms. Her very strong arms, that is. Her whole body was a surprising wonder, no doubt in part due to her constant wearing of those weights. She was able to throw Taigen a fair distance, she could probably pick you up with no problem. No problem at all…

“...You alright down there?” Mizu interrupted your thoughts, and immediately you could feel your face heating up.

“Yeah, ah—I can take care of it afterwards, just try and clean it out a little bit,” you stammered, moving further into the water.

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment more before she moved closer to one of the low water falls, climbing atop the stone beneath for some brief meditation.

You spent your alone time cleaning up, rubbing off any dirt and deep cleaning your hair, the buildup of grease and who knows what else disappearing into the water below, leaving you to grab your needle and thread from your inro.

“I’m ready when you are, Mizu,” you called out, waving your needle for her to see.

She begrudgingly moved to the side by you, biting her lip as you gently applied the stinging ointment to her wound. You’d done this song and dance with her before, and as time went on Mizu had grown used to the bite of your medicine, her howls and cries dying with each new injury.

“Need something to bite on?” you asked before continuing your work.

“I’ll be fine,” she exhaled, shutting her eyes tight.

And so you began, weaving the needle in and out of her wound, carefully pulling it closed and tying the string off.

“Alright, good as new” you muttered, cutting the string. “Don’t touch, don’t scratch, don’t—”

“Not our first time, I know the drill,” she chuckled.

“Well, feel free to relax now,” you sighed, slouching down into the water and shutting your eyes in bliss.

You enjoyed the time you had in the spring before leaving, reveling in the brief relaxation. Your eyes remained shut while you laid down, hearing her eventually join you in laying down.

Loud footsteps caused your eyes to shoot open, and you saw that Mizu had already risen from the water, rushing to the ground and grabbing her sword. You scrambled for your kimono, searching for the small dagger tucked on the inside, planning to defend yourself, or worse if the situation called for it.

The figure stumbled through the shadows and into the clearing, meeting Mizu head on and shrieking loudly. You peaked from the spring, seeing Mizu pointing her blade and Ringo, the noodle maker’s son from long ago. He tilted his head, staring with wide eyes at Mizu and finally landing on your frightened expression.

“...Peaches?”

The dojo master prostrated himself before the man seated in the opulent chair, the dimly lit room illuminated only by the moonlit and roaring fireplace.

“Forgive me for giving your location, my brother. He was unstoppable,” he apologized, slowly rising into an upward kneel as his voice began to trail off. “He defeated my every student…”

The man released a displeased hum, “Your students need better training,” he sneered, turning his head to the old face that walked in.

“The samurai, he's not human,” the old man—Hachiman—said, a mix of fury and bewilderment crossing his face as he recollected. “I saw its eyes.”

“A lone samurai, then?” the man asked, flickering his gaze between the two men before him.

“He had a companion,” the brother spoke, raising his head. “She had no weapon nor joined his fighting.”

The man scoffed, resting his chin on the palm of his hand, “So, a lone samurai with a useless woman.”

“The Four Fangs,” a rich, yet rough, accented voice spoke up, clearly bored by the conversation taking place right next to him. “Send the Four Fangs after this samurai and his girl.”

He grabbed an apple and twirled in between his fingers, “Double their price and be done with it.”

A sickening grin formed on the man’s face as he took in his companion’s words, rising from his chair as he left to distribute orders.

Alone in the room, the Irishman stared at his reflection in the apple, tilting his head as he questioned aloud.

“I wonder, lonesome samurai,” he cooed, taking a bite of the fruit, “why carry a whore ‘round with you when you have so much to lose?”

He tossed the unfinished remains of the apple behind him, turning his head to the window beside him.

“Ah, who gives a shit,” he laughed, snatching another apple. “They’ll both die anyways.”

#mizu x reader #mizu x you #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #taigen blue eye samurai #akemi blue eye samurai #ringo blue eye samurai #heiji shindo blue eye samurai #abijah fowler blue eye samurai #bes mizu #mizu #reader insert #series

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kotir-propaganda · 1 year

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Mossflower has so much going for it, like I’m not even being biased because my blorbo is in it. I will die on the hill of it being Best Redwall Book for several reasons.

-It’s as early Redwall as you can get without actually being Book 1. As such, it avoids a lot of subjects and patterns that would later become repetitive tropes... but it also avoids the Book 1 jankiness of horses and human structures and the implied existence of Portugal. The world as we will come to know it feels more or less fully realized here. The abbey’s not here yet, but its foundation literally is- and we also get our first look at Salamandastron and the extent of Mossflower Wood as a whole.

-It has some of the most solid protagonists around. The legendary hero Martin is here, but he’s at a low point for most of the story and has to work his way up to that legacy! And this is where he does it, this is what future Redwallers remember him for, not the events of Martin the Warrior. Also, Gonff is here? Hello? Maybe the single most charismatic character in the series? Not to mention Dinny, how often does a humble mole actually get to go on a quest in these books?

-This isn’t even getting into how badass all the rest of the woodlanders are, too, but... they absolutely are. This is a small band of rebels that’s been driven from their little houses, they don’t have the luxury of those huge sandstone walls to protect them, but they’re still fighting like hell and outsmarting their enemies to boot. Some of them are seasoned fighters, but some of them are just ordinary families, all banding together to take back their homeland. And they keep it up the whole time! They’re not just waiting around for a guy with a sword to tell them what to do!

-The villains are probably the most nuanced in the whole series. Seriously. There are four whole wildcats here (don’t forget Sandingomm!) and only ONE of them is unquestionably evil. It’s absolutely implied that Verdauga was a fearsome warlord in his day, but if nothing else, he raised ONE kid who turned out to be about as Lawful Good as you can get, and he actually scolds Tsarmina for being mean to her brother!! I wish we could have spent a little more time with Verdauga, honestly, I have so many questions for this man.

-There are a decent handful of morally grey characters here, actually. Chibb spies for the woodlanders, but he’s not the most dependable and is motivated by payment more than sympathy to their cause. Snakefish allies with our questing heroes, but he minces no words in warning them that he’ll just as soon eat them if it comes down to it. Even Argulor is really just out here looking for a bite to eat and can you really blame him, because ashleg is a snack

-Tsarmina herself is irredeemably cruel, but even still there are multiple facets to her. On one hand, she’s scary- big and powerful and ready to rip into anything/anyone with her bare claws. At the same time she can be a clever strategist when she wants to be- poisoning her father and framing her brother, and later manipulating two of her obstacles, Argulor and Bane, into taking each other out. And still yet it can be kind of funny to watch her in action, as she gets humiliated by the resistance on multiple occasions. And maybe there is even a little pathos there, as we see her mind start to slip, and get some glimpse into the deep fear and paranoia that completely overtake her at the end.

-There are just great supporting characters on both sides. Mask is amazing, Fortunata is fantastic. And yeah, Blorbo Supreme Ashleg is here, and I don’t NEED to write a whole essay about him to promote Mossflower as a whole but... having him here is nice! It helps!! May we all follow his example and pursue happier lives for ourselves!!!

-Mossflower laid the foundation for so many events and characters of later books. I mean yeah, it’s a prequel. It’s there to support the first book and by extension, everything that comes after. But so many other great titles in the series have a direct line to Mossflower, from Outcast to Long Patrol to Lord Brocktree and more. Did you enjoy those books? You’re welcome. The threads were already there, just waiting to be expanded upon.

-at one point a wooden leg gets used as a projectile weapon and if you don’t think that’s the best thing ever, I don’t know what else to tell you buddy

#redwall #mossflower

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foxgirlbeans · 4 months

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A Ninja's Guide to Eorzea: Part 1

I'm currently working on my relic weapon for ninja, and that means I'm suffering I'm going into a lot of dungeons solo as a ninja. And it got me thinking about stealth. Rogues and ninjas have a Hide feature that, aside from a few job quests, usually goes completely overlooked. you can usually run from any overworld enemies, dungeons mean you have to hang out with at least two people who can't hide from enemies, and you can't even try to hide from dungeon bosses.

So the ninja sadly doesn't get many opportunities to live out the classic ninja fantasy of striking from the shadows. But by soloing a dungeon at a higher level, you can sneak from boss room to boss room for the same effect. And since I'm going through so many dungeons right now, I thought I'd write down my thoughts on how well each one lets you live out that fantasy.

1. Sastasha

This is the dungeon I'll be comparing all others to. not just because it's the first, but it's one of the best. stealing a glance at the pirate's password and breaking into their base both happen in relatively secluded areas, so you can ignore all enemies right up until the first boss.

Thing get a little hairier when you first meet the pirates, mostly because their guard dogs can see through your sneaking. Which makes a lot of sense when you think about it, right? They live right next door to the bloody Rogues Guild, obviously they'd have ways of dealing with rogues.

This only really adds one extra fight to the list- the second dog and his master are mandatory to grab a key, and the third is in a wide open area that gives you space to avoid it. if you remember it's there, unlike me.

This dungeon is the quintessential "breaking into a base" fantasy, and it plays that part beautifully with realistic threats to keep you on your toes. also it's pirates vs. ninjas which was a big to-do during the lolsorandom years.

I'm also giving it bonus points bc despite having dogs that can spot you, you can open multiple doors without the door guards ever catching wise.

look at them. morons. A+

2. The Tam-Tara Deepcroft

I'm not going to lie, this one's 100% bias speaking. The sneaking works fine, and you can get to bosses completely unmolested, it's just... almost every "boss" here is just some random guy. it doesn't really strike the right chord like Sastasha did. I'll give it a C+/B-, it's sneakable, but it doesn't feel like a ninja.

3. Copperbell Mines

This one's got plot coupons stuck in enemies up the wazoo, so it's definitely not sneaky. On top of that, the dust bunnies in this place all have tremorsense, so you can't sneak past them, and every part of the dungeon is a narrow walkway so you can't even sneak past the old fashioned way.

If that wasn't bad enough, there's multiple moments where hecatoncheirs appear out of walls, instantly breaking your stealth and forcing you into a fight. Sneaking does get you past the worst of the final room, but by then it's too little, too late. D

3. Halatali

Not gonna lie, I 100% thought this one would turn out like Copperbell Mines when I first thought about it. I've never been happier to be wrong though!

The first and third parts of the dungeon are predictably not an issue whatsoever, you sneak past the trash mobs and fight the boss, no problem. The middle portion is where things get spicy- you see, there's several winches in the area you have to pull to open the door at the end, but pulling them breaks your stealth. Further complicating things, pulling each winch has a chance to drop a monster on your head, which I just spent two paragraphs complaining about!

However, because these winches only get pulled when you want them to be, it feels more like you're disarming a trap than anything else. Waiting for the crowd of monsters around you to wander off, setting off booby traps, and dealing with the consequences actually makes the whole experience very fun. Exploring an abandoned ruin definitely falls more on the rogue side of things than ninja, but it was fun enough that I'll let it slide. B+

4. The Thousand Maws of Toto-Rak

Hard F. You have to defeat every monster in an area before you move on, so hiding here actively slows down your progress when you have to u-turn and hunt down whatever you snuck past in the first place.

5. Haukke Manor

Another dungeon that surprised me with out sneakable it is. All of the manor's keys are either located in a boss you have to kill anyway, or on the ground. this means you can sneak into rooms, nab the key from right under the monsters' noses, and sneak back out leaving them none the wiser. Adding in the patrolling succubi that just so happen to give you just enough time to grab certain keys and hide again before they turn around gives a stealth game vibe to the whole experience like in Halatali. Plus you're sneaking into a mansion to kill a corrupt noble, which is a totally ninja thing to do! Another solid B+

6. Brayflox's Longstop

I was surprised to learn Colibri can see through ninja invisibility, but I guess that explains why Captain Madison had one. The starting room has a couple you pretty much have to fight, but aside from that it doesn't do anything special. It also doesn't really fit the ninja vibe what with you fighting random wildlife, but it has fewer filler bosses and fighting a dragon is always cool, so. B-.

#Final Fantasy 14 #Final Fantasy XIV #FF14 #FFXIV #Ninja #I seriously did not expect them to ace the exam right out the gate

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bugs1nmybrain · 6 months

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L. Lawliet licking honey off female readers tummy and breasts then eating whipped cream off of their pussy- please 🙏

tasty ~ l lawliet x self insert: foodplay

It has taken me a while to get to this, but I've been excited to write about it. L and food play is something I've thought about before, but honestly, I was a little embarrassed to.

Notes about the reader: she/her pronouns, female anatomy, she is blatantly based off of me and is named "Lydia". Her physical features aren't described a lot, though, aside from female sex characteristics

I decided to make the reader me this time because, honestly, writing an ambiguous love interest all the time makes it hard for me to be creative. I hope that's not a bother, but if it is, I apologize and no one is obligated to read this.

Warnings: NSFW (18+ MDNI), self insert, dom L at first but he becomes sub later in the fic, food play (honey and whipped cream), breast sucking, oral (fem and male receiving), nervous reader and L, TEASING, panties fetish, bad POV grammar, established relationship, fatass Beetlejuice reference, no penetration, not proofread yet

"So, what do you think?"

Lydia sat in front of L, dumbstruck by his request. It really wasn't surprising, it was actually pretty L of him. It was rare to find him not downing sweets like no one's business, so this was bound to come. She felt embarrassed, yet not surprised by any means.

Once she could get past how flustered L's question made her, she nodded with a bashful smile.

"I'd be okay with trying that out," Lydia flashed a gentle smile of approval.

"Truly? You seem hesitant."

"I'm not..or-I mean, I guess I am hesitant. It's just because I'm embarrassed."

"If you're feeling self-conscious, I'll assure you that you'd look nothing than gorgeous covered in sweets." While what he said was very flattering, L's deadpan voice made it hard for Lydia not to laugh a little in response.

"It's not all that. I'm just not used to being so exposed."

Taking her anxiety into consideration is something he had already prioritized in this case. However, L had recently paid close attention to her...fantasies. Or at least the ones he was able to find out about. Lydia was a woman with a high sex drive, whether she came to him about it or not was a different story. He had a new side quest to test what aroused her, going as far as to try things they both felt sheepish towards.

The two's sexual relationship was great, however very fresh. Trying more "kinky" sexual activities was new to both of them. Sure, Lydia (and possibly L) had watched a variety of pornography to get a sense of what was erotic to them.

They were currently at a point where the couple would have sex frequently, but it was somewhat predictable. L and Lydia felt great sexual attraction to one another, so chemistry and arousal weren't an issue. But the suspense was starting to lose its pace, something both of them yearned for in times of sexual pleasure.

"We could go completely at your pace and comfortability, love. I don't want to embarrass you (kind of a lie). I just think that this could possibly enhance trust between us. It's also...something that I've, uhm..fantasized about. A couple of times (absolute truth)."

There were already a few ideas in Lydia's head about fetishes L may have had but hadn't been confirmed yet. Seeing him admit to one, though, made her blush and tingle.

"Is that so? Hehe, I thought that you may have."

"Observant as always. That's why you're my dearest."

Lydia didn't respond but instead became flustered to herself and avoided eye contact. Her cheeks were already looking warm, heightening L's arousal when he noticed.

"Would you want to try now?" L asked, scanning her face for any discomfort from his question, or even arousal.

To his satisfaction, her cheeks lit up more, accompanied by an eager smile. She nodded vigorously, with a beam of excitement in her eyes.

"Alright, then. I'm going to go grab a couple of things for us, but I'll be back very soon."

L stood up, about to turn to walk out of the room, but redirected himself back to Lydia. He quickly placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, but turned back around and left the room without any acknowledgment afterwards.

.....

Lydia sat pretty on the bed, unsure if she should be undressing or not. She decided to play it safe and just stay put for now. Not very long after, L opened the door. He only had two things with him, surprisingly. She almost expected him to bring the whole nine yards with him. All he had with him was a jar of extra-sweetened honey and a can of whipped cream.

L made his way over to the bed, placing the containers down as he sat in front of her, sitting in his traditional position.

"You look very pretty today," L compliments. Lydia looked up at him, to see what she thought was a flustered look (it was hard to tell with L). He reached his hand to gently brush her hair with his fingers.

She blushed which made L smile, making no effort to hide his expression. Making Lydia flustered was one of his favorite things. The fact that he, someone so weird and off-putting, could make her feel this way struck a bit of pride in him. Though, perhaps it only made sense, given she was rather strange and unusual herself. Her unhinged demeanor was one of the reasons L found her so adorable.

"Thank you."

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes.."

As always, his lips were incredibly soft and inviting. He was also excellent with his tongue.

The kiss became heated not so shortly after, and L's hands had begun to roam. His delicate, long fingers found their way up Lydia's stomach, pulling her shirt along with them. He kissed her neck up to her jawline as he pulled the shirt off. Soon after came her pants.

"Mmm..." L adores. His fingers immediately rub themselves gently on her clothed clitoris. They caressed her gently, causing Lydia to whimper in pleasure.

"I love you," he continues. His affirmation was much appreciated by the butterflies in Lydia's stomach, fueling her arousal.

"I love you too."

L reached for the honey. He had brought a spoon with him to help put it on her easier. He dipped his spoon in the jar after opening it, causing Lydia to tense up anxiously. L recognizes her timid body language and stops.

"Are you alright? Are you comfortable?"

You smile at his consideration and nod your head.

"Nervous, but I'm comfortable and trust you."

"I appreciate that. "

He made sure to lean down and give her a gentle kiss for reassurance. Right after that, he dipped his spoon in the jar, swirled the spoon around to help with the consistency, and held it above her. When the honey fell on her stomach, she cringed at the cold sensation. L realized that perhaps he should've warmed up the honey.

"Sorry.."

"It's ok, love," Lydia assured him.

The honey began drizzling on her breasts. The sticky substance fell over her skin, causing Lydia's clit to twitch. L smirks in response, though he tries to hide his face.

L puts the spoon back in the jar and screws the lid back on. He looks back at Lydia as she is exposed on the bed, only covered by her panties. She was absolutely gorgeous to him, and the sight made him clam up. He swallowed as discreetly as he could and redirected his attention to what the goal was.

"May I?" He asks, catching her eyes in his, holding out the contact for approval.

"Yes."

He oogles her for a moment before kneeling on top of her. Seeing her full breasts covered in honey was making him very embarrassed, especially because all he wanted to do was put his mouth all over her right now.

"You look incredible..."

Lydia buried her face in her hands and giggled in embarrassment. L started by running his hands over places that weren't covered in honey, trailing his soft fingertips along her sides up to her shoulders. With hesitation, he leans forward to attach his mouth onto her breast. The honey tasted great, and her tit was supple and soft. Lydia felt a shameful arousal build up and her thighs started squeezing together in response. L gave both of them equal attention and then began making his way down her tummy.

The flavor of the honey made this much more comfortable for L. Thid made him a bit nervous admittedly, as the act was so vulnerable for the both of you. It made it easier to lick and suck at your skin with something sweet to distract himself with. He could feel himself growing hard already.

He finally made it to her panties. He looks up at Lydia with neutral but lustful eyes before asking her, "Are you ready for the next part?"

"Y-yes."

"You sure?"

"It's okay," she giggles in response, appreciative of his consideration. Though it wasn't like he hadn't already seen her nude many times before. "You can go ahead."

Lydia's hearts throbbed in her chest while L pulled her panties off. He looked at the mess inside of them with amusement. Her secretion of wetness was always fascinating to him, and her scent was a turn on her him if he was honest.

"Can I keep these for a day or so?"

Lydia laughed at his request, but not offended by any means. "Yes, love."

He gave them a brief whiff, trying to define every detail of her scent. He could tell she had showered recently by the lack of musk, aside from her wetness. His attention returned to her pussy, which was visibly drenched in arousal. The sight made L lightly bite down on his lip.

"You fold so easily for me," he remarks with a cocky tone.

"I do not!"

"Mhm, sure," his fingers return to her clit, stroking lightly for a little bit, actually forgetting for a moment that they were supposed to be incorporating food.

L took the can of whipped cream and shook it to make sure it came out consistently. Remembering the incident with the honey before, he directed his attention to Lydia.

"This might be cold."

"Okay," she smiled at him bashfully, keeping her gaze up at the ceiling as he sprayed the whipped cream on her cunt. He was very generous with the amount he put on her.

"Alright.." L moved Lydia's thighs further apart and dipped his head in between. He latched his mouth on her pussy, licking and sucking all over, actively avoiding her clitoris on purpose. L was known for being a tease like that.

He focused on the taste of the sweets, diving to wherever he could find more of the substance. His mouth sucked along her lips and the sides of her cunt.

"L.."

"Hm? What is it, love?"

"Mmmrrhh," her desperate whines were clearly trying to tell him to put his mouth in the right spot, but he feigned ignorance like always.

"I'm afraid I don't understand gibberish, Lydia." He looked up at her with a face covered in the white cream and sticky consistency.

"Please...?"

"Use your words."

"My clit.."

"What about it?"

She scrunched up her face in annoyance. Not that she didn't love his playful banter with her, but she was aching to be pleasured.

"Please, it's sensitive."

"I can imagine, love. Let me help with that, hm?"

"Mhm~"

To her bliss, he gave her exactly what she needed, wrapping his mouth on her clit. He couldn't see what it looked like due to the whipped cream, but he could tell by the feeling of it on his mouth that she was swollen and yearning.

He placed a little more cream on her cunt, and continued praising her pussy with his skilled tongue. He sucked on her nub as he enjoyed the sweet taste of the whipped cream and flicked his tongue accordingly. He was attentive to how it would pulse against his tongue and how Lydia's hips would jerk when she liked a particular motion. It got to the point where L had to hold her hips down to keep her still.

Her moans caused his cock to strain, making him muffle and grunt against her cunt.

"Fuck, you taste so good."

"It's really just the cr-"

"Shhh.." he continued lapping at her sensitive cunt to silence her, though she only wailed in pleasure. He buried his face closer into her cunt, reaching over her thighs to fondle her tummy while he did.

"Mm~ I'm.."

"Mhm. I know, sweetheart. Go on.."

He didn't stop his attack afterwards, repeating her favorite motion of his tongue as much as he could until her muscles began contracting and her legs and hips squirmed.

"Aaahh~!.☆.☆.♡♡♡~"

As she came all over his face, he sucked at her cunt more, extending her orgasm as much as he could. When her body finally gave out and went limp, he gave a couple more kisses to her cunt before coming up for some much needed air.

"How are you feeling, my love?" He asked as he rubbed gentle circles onto her inner thigh.

"G-good.." she was a little shakey from her orgasm but had a very blissful smile to accompany her. Seeing her surrender to him like this made him horny beyond belief.

"I'll go get some things to clean you up and then we can cuddle, alright?"

"Wait.."

"Hm?"

"Um..what about you?"

"What about me?"

Lydia laughed softly, amused that he didn't ask himself. "Couldn't I do the same to you?"

"Wha-oh! Uh--I.."

L hardly stammered like this, it was a treat to Lydia to get to see him obviously flustered like this.

"Do you want that?"

She looked at him intently, watching him trying to hold back a blushy smile.

"I'd-uh-y-yes. Yes. I'd love that, Lydia."

Lydia sat upwards, waiting for L to situate himself. Despite his awkward and blunt composure, L was gentlemanly in the sense that he typically didn't ask for things like a blowjob often, usually leaving that decision up to Lydia. He saw it as extremely vulnerable not only for him but for Lydia as well. He wasn't big necessarily, but his cock was longer in length and so he didn't want her to feel pressured about her performance. Though tonight, he was definitely grateful she had initiated this.

L sat awkwardly on the bed with his thighs spread as he sat like he always did. Lydia approached him, still nude and not fully cleaned up yet. She rested in between his legs and placed her hands in his chest, motivating to get him to lay down. She unzipped his pants and took them off. His cock sprung out, flushed at his tip and looking painfully hard.

Lydia reached for the whipped cream and doused his cock in it. It made him embarrassed underneath his deadpanned pink-faced stare, but as soon as she began sucking the consistency off his glans, he couldn't have cared less about his embarrassment.

The way she tended to his cock made it seem as if she was trying to tell him how much she loved him through every suck, lick, and stroke. She moaned and breathed through her nose, occasionally wincing as she attempted to take as much of him as she could. She made his heart flutter ever so slightly as she did so. He noticed how when she couldn't take him as far as she wanted, she'd try to compensate by sucking at spots she knew he was most sensitive at.

She pulled back his foreskin to make sure she got all of the whipped cream, dragging her tongue up to suck his tip after. He could feel himself get close to cumming, she usually was able to get him with very simple displays of adoration for him.

At this point, all the whipped cream was gone and his cock was sticky. She bobbed her head and coated L's cock with her saliva. His hand rested at his face, pulling at his lips while he let out whimpers.

"Mmm.."she hummed on his cock, almost making him cum then and there. L reached down to run his fingers through her scalp, which made her react by pushing her mouth further on his cock. He could hear Lydia choke and wanted to stop her from hurting herself, but she didn't seem to mind as she kept going. Her watery eyes and flushed face drove his cock crazy, as it started to twitch and his balls clenched.

"Lydia.."

"Mhm," she nodded with his cock in her mouth, a strange feeling for him but even so, his arousal only got worse and he ended up cumming down her throat abruptly.

"Hrnnn...." L sighed out, trying to regulate his breathing again. He pet Lydia's head while she released his cock from her mouth, swallowing his cum in the process.

"You didn't have to swallow, I know it's not tasty."

"It's ok. Yours isn't bad. I also have whipped cream residue in my mouth so it diluted the flavor."

"Thank you."

She smiled at him and came back up to huddle up next to him. She looked up at him like she had something to say.

"What is it?" L asked.

"Can I kiss you? I know my mouth was just uh.."

L scoffs. "Don't worry about that. Mine hasn't been anywhere better."

Lydia kissed L softly, and rested her face on his shoulder. He rested his hand on her hip and allowed her to embrace him.

"I think it would be appropriate to go take a shower and brush our teeth, don't you think so?" L questioned her teasingly.

"Yea. I'm sticky."

"Me too. I had a good time doing this, did you?"

"Hehe, yes. It felt very good."

"I thought so, too. I'm grateful you agreed to do this with me."

"I enjoyed it very much. I'd be okay with doing it again in the future."

"Oh we definitely will. Maybe we'll experiment with other scenarios too, hm?"

"Like what?"

"Oh darling, I have quite a few ideas in mind for us..."

#l lawliet #l lawliet x reader #f/o #l lawliet smut #self ship #l lawliet x self insert #l lawliet x oc #canon x self insert #l lawliet x reader smut

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yandere--stuck · 2 years

Note

Okay I know this kind of AU is super common for video game characters, but you're the only person I know who produces that Good Kush content for Yandere!Zagreus: falling in love with the player.

A Zagreus who becomes self-aware as to his role as a protagonist and can feel your decisions being the shadow over his own. Instead of feeling frustrated or existential, he's filled with an overflowing amount of joy. You care! You're trying so hard to help him fulfill his goal! Every time you pick the game back up he becomes more and more infatuated, trying to figure out more about you from the way you play. You've been picking the bow a lot lately and using Eurydice's keepsake, which means you're trying to avoid damage, which means you don't want to see him hurt! You've been taking boons from Aphrodite, surely that must be you trying to signal your blooming interest? And when you spend hours bingeing the game it HAS to mean he's more important to you than whatever it is your world holds.

Once you've fully beaten the game is where he starts to get desperate. There's still a side quest or two, but he needs you to know he "returns your affection" before you put down the game indefinitely. So he starts to manipulate his code in little ways. Prompts to gift nectar disappear, except weirdly enough next to Zagreus' bed? When you press the prompt out of curiosity, he's elated. He can't invent script, but he cobbles together words out of his bank of voiced lines. Words of thanks, words of praise. Words that are meant to go to Meg and Thanatos are mixed together to say you're dear to him, that he'll wait for you as long as it takes.

The next time you reach the surface, you lose control of his character model completely. He starts running around the edges of the screen, trying to smash the scenery. You can't hear what he's saying, he's too lost in his desperation to try and sew together the words he's looking for. Surely if he can get beyond this screen, you'll be on the other side? If he can just push a little farther, if he can just use a little more of the beautiful strength you've cultivated just for him, you two can finally be together, right? It HAS to work. He HAS to be able to meet you properly. His SOULMATE wouldn't exist unless there was a happily ever after!

...and if he can't get out, well, perhaps there's a way to bring you in?

(Oh geez this is way longer than I meant it to be, sorry. I'm a big fan of your writing! Keep up the good work!)

I feel so bad for never getting the motivation to write smth for this idea - it's so good and I love self aware aus! But this is written so marvelously, I didn't want to just delete it, so I hope that's okay!

Once again, sorry this is late, but I really appreciate you sending it in and your kind words! You're a very talented writer yourself considering what you posted here! ^^ 💚

#yandere x reader #hades game x reader #yandere hades #yandere hades games #hades x reader #zagreus x reader #yandere Zagreus #if youre not cool with the tags just lemme know #alao this isnt too say I dont plan on writing more hades stuff in the future #just that nothing came to me in this particular instance 😔#yandere #hades #hades game

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sovonight · 9 months

Text

waiting (candle event, radri ver, 3k words) ↴

—✧✧✧—

As the light from the window recedes, casting her journal into shadow, Radri sets a candle upon the candle holder on the nightstand, then reaches over the side of the bed, rummaging around in her pack for flint and steel. As she fumbles around for it, Xan glances over from his place beside her, and extends a hand.

"Allow me," he says. With a small gesture and a whisper of a command, the wick catches flame.

"Oh," Radri says, looking up the lit candle, "Thank you."

She abandons her now unnecessary search, and opens her journal once more. Xan glances over again.

"I never found the chance to ask what you write about," he says.

"Mm?" Radri narrowly avoids leaving a blot of ink on the page, and gives her pen a dissatisfied frown, resolving to be more careful. "Normal things, I suppose. What happened today, what quests are in progress, what supplies we expended…."

"A summary of events, then, rather than a collection of personal reflections?" Xan says. "Did you keep such a journal in Candlekeep, as well?"

In Candlekeep? She had never considered it. Imagining it now, her entries would have blended together in their sameness; her days were a mixture of lessons and chores, with the only real variables being the subjects she was taught, and the people around her.

"I didn't keep a journal at all," Radri says. "I was always so tired of writing by the end of each day—the last thing I wanted to do was light a candle and write into the night." She gives her current setup a wry smile.

"But now that I'm gone… there's something comforting about the routine," Radri says. "The scent of paper, the ink… even the flame. Though Candlekeep isn't so full of candles as its name would suggest."

Then she blinks, and lifts her gaze from her journal, glancing over to him.

"I remember seeing that you have a journal, as well. Don't you keep track of similar things?"

"Of our every encounter, foe, and death?" Xan says. "If I dwell too long on what has happened to us, I soon grow astonished at the fact that we are even still alive—and against my will, the mind wanders. I prefer to keep my entries to more pleasant reflections."

"Pleasant reflections?" Radri echoes, curious, "Like what?"

"What else?" Xan says, gazing at her softly. "Thoughts of you, and our love."

—

Radri swirls the liquid wax around in the flat pan of the candle holder, drawing circles around the dying flame. Just as the wick is about to run out, she catches the flame on a fresh one, and sets the new candle beside her closed journal. Her journal entry for the day is complete; she is tired, and she is long due for reverie; and yet, something keeps her awake.

Xan. She sighs, staring into the dull, abandoned pool, watching the wax slowly begin to solidify again. She doesn't know why she's still waiting for him. He prefers to study his spells alone—and she has often fallen into reverie waiting for him to finish—but never so consistently or so often as in these past several days. A shadow has fallen across his dark, gray eyes, and though she lingers in bed, pretending to still be in reverie to ensure he gets all the hours he needs, he hardly looks rested.

When she asks, Xan says nothing. But—she hasn't really asked, has she? Are you alright, is no true substitute for, I'm worried about you. Is something wrong? Is it something I did? Are you avoiding m—

Radri gives her head a sharp shake. No—it does no use to jump to conclusions, and she's been through this dance before. All she has to do is wait for Xan to come tell her everything.

…No, that's not it. The last time she had waited, in just a tenday he had formed a conviction to leave her forever.

Radri stands, sending the candle's flame flickering in the residual breeze of her movement, worry suddenly taking hold in her chest. Her heart is set—she's going to go find him. Xan is probably still at that worn table on the floor below; at this hour, there are none but the stillness and darkness of night to keep him company. Her mind made up, Radri crosses the room in three quick strides, and opens the door—

—And comes face to face with Xan, who stumbles back a step in surprise.

"Radri," Xan gasps. With the glimpse he'd caught of her expression, he sends a cautious glance behind him, before facing her again. "You—you looked as if you were about to storm a dungeon. Are we leaving already?"

Then he looks past her, into the room, where the wax carnage by the candle holder she's been using to stave off the darkness serves as clear evidence of her sleeplessness.

"…Or have you not even rested yet, at all?" Xan looks worriedly down at her. Radri feels, for an instant, abashed to have raised his concern—but no, she has to collect herself. She is worried about him. And she must say it!

"I… I couldn't," Radri says. Yes, a good start—

"I…" she continues, and now, she should ask him now—

"I hadn't yet received your kiss goodnight." NO!

But her excuse has already left her in a nervous rush of words, too late to be swallowed now. Xan, understandably, stares at her—and mentally, she buries her face in her hands. How could her resolve have fled her so quickly?

"I… did not know it was that significant to you," Xan says, slightly puzzled, and it takes her a second to remember what she'd said that he's responding to, "Forgive me for the oversight."

Leaning carefully in, as though partly convinced that she might prove to be an illusion once he touches her, Xan leaves a simple, light kiss on her cheek. When he pulls back away, he seems silently astonished at having confirmed that she is, in fact, real. But Radri's mind holds no room to process this observation; her fingertips rise to touch the kiss he'd placed on her cheek, and her face reddens in embarrassment. He'd… he'd humored her… but perhaps this is the best approach. After all, it's not in her nature to tackle an encounter head-on.

"Are you going to come in and join me?" Radri asks. Though she tries for casual, her voice seems, to her ears, to betray her hours of waiting and doubt. But if Xan thinks the same, it does not show, and he does not refuse her.

Xan moves through his nightly ritual, putting his spellbook upon the nightstand and leaning his moonblade against it, so that he might always have it on hand. Meanwhile, Radri feels as nervous inside as she did the first time they'd shared a room, and finds herself standing still at the foot of the bed, uncertain what to do with her arms.

Xan lays down on the bed, then looks up at her. Perhaps it's just her, or the distance, or the flicker of the candle—but she thinks she sees amusement in his eyes.

"Come here," Xan says fondly, and in that moment, the spell of her nervousness is broken. She hastens over and falls into his arms; Xan's soft, breathy chuckle floats across the top of her head.

"If you were in such a hurry, you need not have waited for me."

She curls up closer, nestling her head against his chest, her ear pressed to his heart. He misunderstands; what she'd waited for is his closeness.

"Will you take my hand?" Radri asks; she misses his company in reverie. Xan sighs.

"I am in no state to show you my memories of Evereska tonight, if that is what you were hoping for."

"I don't want to see, so much as I just want to be with you."

"Well, then, I am already with you." Xan kisses her hair. Her heart clenches, and she tries again.

"Xan… has something been troubling you, lately?"

"I am surprised that you would ask me this," he says. "Many things trouble me, Estel'amin, and at many times." Though his answer is neutral, something beneath it is just slightly tense.

"Does it have to do with me?"

"You are on my mind too often for these troubling thoughts to never lead back to you." But he had hesitated… just barely.

Radri finds her breath caught in her throat. This is the moment; she cannot bear to blurt out any more excuses.

"Is it why you wait for me to fall into reverie, first, before you join me?" Her heart beats so loudly that it nearly drowns out the sound of her own voice in her ears. "I—Is it… why you've been been avoiding me?"

In the aftermath of releasing those words from her mind, she barely registers the fact that Xan's body has stilled, his breath frozen in his chest; her thoughts, many and jumbled, tumble forth, fighting for the chance to form on her tongue.

"I—I'm sorry," Radri finds herself stammering. "After all… it's an uneven arrangement, isn't it? You have such a beautiful city to show me, and I only have books and repetition—the same story, day in and day out. And then I finally left, only to start having these visions… these nightmares. Why would you want to live through them with me? I understand, really. I should never have—"

"Radri."

With one swift movement, she's no longer curled up against his chest, but laying on her back on the bed itself. Xan is leant over her, his arms on either side of her shoulders, his face cast into uneven shadow by the curtain of his hair. She can't help but notice the dark circles beneath his eyes, which are still apparent even in this dim light—but more than that, what strikes her is how pained he looks by her words.

"Is that what you think?"

Radri feels, suddenly, that she's gotten the answer very wrong. She's transported back to Candlekeep: one of her tutors stares at her from the board, tutting at her, as Imoen, sprawled casually at the desk next to hers, signals secretly to her what she should have said instead.

But the Imoen of her mind's eye has no choice but to fade away without helping her; there is nowhere in the world that contains knowledge of what Xan is thinking right now, except for Xan himself.

"What," she says, quietly, "Should I think instead?"

Xan, surprisingly, does not answer immediately. He seems, for the first time in a while, lost for words—though not for a lack of emotion for them to express. She watches his expression shift, from reflection, to frustration, to helplessness, to—

"I have been trying to shield you from my struggles," Xan manages at last, "But I see that I have failed."

Pulling away from her, he continues, "I… I keep having visions."

"I am alone with you on a beautiful glade—and we are ambushed by monsters. I join you in your reverie—and wake up next to your lifeless corpse. I let down my guard, and you are taken from me—" He pauses, taking in a shaky breath, eyes glazed over by the memory, "And there are many more. You cannot imagine the perils my eyes see."

"There were always fears, Radri. Fear of dying, fear of losing you, of hurting you, of dragging you into the void of my lonely, desolate existence… But now they are not simply that: they are live nightmares I cannot escape, and I dread my reverie every night. How can I share it with you, when I know what my mind will show you?" Xan says, and pulls his gaze away from her, bowing his head. "I am lost, Estel'amin. Lost in darkness… and even the candles of your room are not able to drive it away."

Radri begins to reach out to him, but pauses, his words still running through her head. She feels like she's forced this from him; she's sorry to have pushed him. Perhaps, if she'd just observed in silence longer, she could have guessed that this was what troubled him… but she can't help but think back to that first night, when their shared reverie went awry. Even with her tears, her confession, his words, and his comfort, what she remembers above all is relief, to no longer be holding all of her fears inside.

So she brings herself to him, and she holds him close.

"You can show me," Radri says. "I wish I knew what to say to drive this darkness away… I wish I could do for you what you do for me. But I will always be here to listen."

"I want to know everything about you, Tahlimil," she confesses; despite having spoken it in her mind many times, his name is still new on her tongue, and she feels his breath catch to hear it. "Not just your hopes, but your fears. Not just your shining moments of happiness, but your present sorrows. I want to be here with you, through all of it. There is not a moment in which I would wish that you had spared me… I don't think it's possible for us to spare each other, anymore."

Her heart is beating loud and fast in her chest; she wonders if he can feel it, if he can tell that she feels more nervous and vulnerable now than she does when she whispers to him that she loves him, before all the eyes of the world. Xan, held close, now pulls away to look her in the eyes.

"Estel'amin," Xan says, "I…"

He looks taken by disbelief and awe; he looks as if he wishes to kiss her. But then, another thought comes to him—and she can spy this exact moment, by the sudden look of resolve in his eyes.

"There is a question that has been on my mind for far too long," Xan says. "I have agonized over when to ask it, but I think it can only be now. I feel as you do. I would share everything with you: my memories, my emotions, my life… and I would know you, in turn, as dearly and intimately as I have only ever known myself."

He takes her hand; his fingers, and the rings upon them, are normally cool upon her skin, but tonight they exude pure warmth.

"I wish to forge the bond that will unite my world with yours," Xan says. "I wish to have you in my arms, Estel'amin… will you have me?"

The building elation that she'd felt throughout his first sentences falters, stuttering to a halt. Suddenly, their closeness comes to the forefront of her awareness. His touch, his gaze, and even the mundane way the fabric of their clothes has tangled together around their bodies; to notice these things now leaves a weight in her chest.

"Are you afraid?" Xan asks, softly.

She can't respond; he does not push her.

"I know," Xan says, and if Radri were less preoccupied by her thoughts, she would note that his tone betrays a hint of nervousness, "This commitment is far too great to fathom in a single moment. An elven bond is the closest intimacy I could have asked of you; I have had many days to reflect on it, and yet I have not granted you the same. I am not so fragile that I will turn away from you if you refuse me tonight."

Hearing that, her head jerks up, startling him slightly. Refuse him—in this? How could he imagine that she would, when even in the earliest of their days together—after she, by a miracle, had managed to convince him to stay—she had thought secretly, wistfully back to the kind of bond she had only ever been able to read about in books?

"No… No, I have been thinking on it, too," Radri says, and clutching the emotion in her heart, admits, "I am ready for our bond—but it is all I am ready for, right now."

"Then our bond is all I ask."

Shocked, she looks up at him.

"What do you mean?" Radri asks, "You… you're still willing, to...?"

"Radri," Xan says, a fond, relieved smile pulling at his lips, "Our bond is the one part of my question that I had always feared you would refuse. The rest can wait until the day you wish for it."

For a moment, she can do nothing but stare in disbelief. That feeling of elation returns, building little by little, replacing the heaviness in her chest.

"Can you ask me again?" Radri says, feeling somewhat breathless, "S—so… so that I might accept properly?"

"I have longed to forge the bond that will unite my world with yours," Xan begins again for her, and adds, with a look of unbearable tenderness, "I love you, Estel'amin. Will you have me?"

And at last she answers in a whispered, "Yes."

—

When Radri wakes, Xan is sitting up beside her, already awake himself. She stretches her arms out to hug him around the waist, and closes her eyes again.

"You've spent less time in reverie than I," she grumbles, "How is it that you're already awake?"

"Is it your wish that I return to bed, then?" Xan asks, brushing through her hair with an idle hand. "I will… But first, I noticed that you were running short of candles, so I brought you one."

Xan presents her with a lit candle. Radri, sitting up, beholds it with bewilderment.

"I… Thank you, but… if you're already burning it now, won't it go to waste?" Radri asks, looking at him. Still new to her heart, his presence and his feelings there are not yet easy to sort through, but she manages to single one out: anticipation.

"There is more to it, Estel'amin," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her cheek, "Just trust me."

Holding the candle between them, he faces her seriously.

"I wish to give you a promise, together with this candle," Xan says. "I… I feel you, now, as clearly as I feel myself. I know your fears as sharply as I know mine. And I promise: while you are here, with me, in reverie or in the waking world, you will not run out of candles, and whenever you have need of me, you will not find me wanting. —If you do have need of me, that is."

He extinguishes the candle, and looks at her with a slight smile.

"I almost do not believe it, but I feel… hopeful," Xan says. "And there, the candle is out. Do you forgive me for squandering it, now?"

"Yes," Radri says, barely managing to voice the word with how touched she is, and clearly past the need for any apology of his. "I'm… I…"

Xan just gazes contentedly at her, looking more at peace this morning than he has in days, and rather than trying to put into words what she feels after hearing what he said, she just wants to hold him. So she does.

"I suppose you will want us to return to reverie now," Xan says, his voice slightly muffled by the arms she's thrown around his neck. "I appreciate your offer to serve as my blanket, but it will be difficult to kiss you goodnight in this position… and I know how you cannot bear to forgo it."

"What even are you talking about," Radri groans, having reached her limit for deciphering spoken words the moment Xan's candle went out. There's simply too much information: from her heart, her head, this bond, and even the sun, whose rays are now peeking irritatingly in from the gap in the curtains at the window.

"Nothing," Xan answers, feeling all of this from her, and deciding to postpone his teasing for later. They have time. This hour, this day... and yes, perhaps even tomorrow.

—

full xan/radri compilation

#a remix/rewrite mushing two of his events together for my fav bhaalspawn #xan x radri #sovo writes

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