#im still drawing the fire hair differently every time

[countv0ncunt]

I miss my dumb child and my smart child

I will probably never finish this

[pin-k-ink]

LEGAL AFFAIRS ⋆✦⋆ endo yamato

synopsis ➸ you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve defended him in court. but you both know the real battle starts when the courtroom clears—and it always ends the same way.

tags ➸ dub-con, friends with benefits/casual relationship, mentions of past infidélity (reader and her bf), posséssive!endo, unheàlthy/tòxic relationship dynamics, mentions of a blòwjob, degràdation, mild objectifícation, gróping, name-calling, praise kínk, one clít slàp, unprotected séx, manhàndling, bitíng, squírting, overstimúlation, nípple play, cunnílingus, dírty talking

wc ➸ 11.4k

note ➸ first time writing for him. i haven’t read the manga in a couple of months so im not sure if everything is accurate. but feedback is always welcome :)

The heavy oak doors swung shut behind you with a hollow thud, the sound echoing down the empty courthouse hallway in eerie finality. You let out a shuddering exhale, tension seeping from your shoulders as the insistent throbbing behind your eyes finally began to ebb.

Another case settled. Another potential crisis averted by the slimmest threads of your persuasive talents and intimate knowledge of legal loopholes. You closed your eyes for a beat too long, allowing the hazy vestiges of lingering adrenaline to slowly bleed away.

When your lids parted once more, movement at the periphery of your vision made you stiffen instinctively - every finely honed survival instinct snapping back to full alertness in an instant. But you knew that silhouette, that effortless leonine prowl all too intimately. The familiar sight made a very different breed of anxious anticipation begin twisting low in your gut instead.

"Endo..." You breathed his surname before you could reconsider addressing him directly. "I should have known you'd still be lingering around after the verdict like a bad stench."

Your biting sarcasm sliced through the stifling quiet of the deserted hall. But if your former childhood friend detected the undercurrents of venom lacing the syllables, he paid it no outward heed. That familiar smirk you'd once found so infuriatingly roguish tugged his lips as Endo sauntered closer, those piercing ice-chip eyes glinting with undisguised amusement from beneath the hooded fall of his tousled raven hair.

"Well hey there, gorgeous," he practically purred, making your hackles rise defensively even as your traitorous pulse kicked up a notch. "That's no way to greet the guy whose ass you just pulled from the fire again, is it?"

Despite the dim lighting of the derelict courthouse corridor, you were starkly aware of every harsh angle and shadowed hollow defining Endo's striking features as he slid into your personal space. All arrogant masculinity and coiled intensity, he radiated careless confidence like an elemental force to be reckoned with - yet another seismic reality to keep corralled through the precise application of your legal talents.

Not for the first time, you found yourself gritting your teeth against the inexplicable cocktail of heady memories, hard-won conditioning, and lingering attraction swirling nauseatingly through your psyche. Because of course the mere sight of Endo Yamato, equal parts adolescent menace and forbidden temptation, would undermine your meticulously maintained composure so effortlessly.

"You make it sound like I go out of my way to tarnish my otherwise spotless professional reputation slumming as your personal legal pit bull for fun," you sneered, shoulders drawing back instinctively as he drifted ever closer - near enough for his tall, broad-shouldered frame to loom over you in a silent brand of dominance your senses recognized before higher reasoning could override them.

Endo snorted out a low, rough chuckle that sparked electric shivers rippling outwards from your abdomen in involuntary awareness. You refused to be cowed, however, keeping your spine rigid and your chin tilted imperiously despite the magnetic force of his presence working to undermine your airs like an implacable tide against your battlements.

"And here I was gonna tell you how much I appreciate you working your legal magic for my benefit..." Endo went on in that infuriatingly nonchalant rasp, tilting his noble visage to study you through those smoldering bedroom eyes as he spoke. "But clearly Miss High and Mighty Hotshot Attorney doesn't need my gratitude cluttering up the conversation."

You bristled outwardly in response but your innate defensiveness came more from the fact that you could feel your pulse rabbiting beneath your skin - far too attuned to the electrified current passing between your bodies despite the empty space yet separating your forms. Something shivered in the taut lines of Endo's frame too, a deft micro-adjustment that confirmed your every hyper-tuned instinct reading the same unspoken message:

This encounter was mere prologue to the main event yet to unfurl between your joined existences tonight. And the undercurrents of delicious inevitability thickening the air around you both were silently calibrating - piquing senses and stoking the pyre of long-starved want seething through each set of stuttering nerve-endings like an unseen arsonist.

One of Endo's broad palms lifted, fingers grazing featherlight along your jawline in a silken graze that made your breath stall behind your clenched teeth. You glared balefully but couldn't quite summon the resolve to retreat from his branding caress, skin erupting into needling gooseflesh beneath his shameless mapping of sensations.

"Besides...isn't this the part where we skip straight to the after-party activities, sweetheart?" He husked, the raw desire in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. His lithe frame pressed closer until you could feel the heat radiating off his body. "You know, make that infuriatingly sexy brain of yours short-circuit for a little while at least?"

The brazen suggestion hung heavily between you, stoking memories you'd tried in vain to repress. Images flickered through your mind unbidden - of Endo pinning you against seedy motel room walls, teeth grazing your neck as those skilled hands roamed over every inch of your bared skin. His muscular thighs bracketing your hips as you sank down onto him with a muffled cry, your nails scoring lines down the inked canvas of his back in ecstasy.

You recalled with visceral clarity the way his sculpted abdomen flexed as he took you with punishing strokes, forcing breathless keens from your parted lips. The blissful burn of his cock stretching you open, possessing you so completely in the aftermath of every legal battle you fought to keep him out of jail. Endo worshipping your body with his sinful mouth, driving you higher and higher until your climaxes crashed over you both in shattering waves of rapture.

Despite the many times you'd sworn it would be the last, you always found yourself succumbing to Endo's intoxicating allure again. Falling back into the delirious spiral of primal need and rough sex that left you both spent and aching for more. There was an unspoken magnetism that drew you together and you couldn't hope to resist.

You blinked hard, Endo's heated stare and sinful smirk snapping you back to the present. Your pulse thundered in your ears, skin flushed hot despite the crisp courthouse air. This couldn't keep happening...could it? You shored up your resolve, drawing yourself up to meet his gaze squarely despite your body's blatant betrayal.

"Not this time, Endo," you said, proud when your voice emerged steady and firm. "We're done with this cycle. For real this time."

One dark brow quirked upward as he studied you with blatant amusement. Rather than deterred, he seemed intrigued by your adamant refusal - a new game to play and conquer. Endo leaned in until his lips brushed the sensitive shell of your ear, voice dropping to a gravelly murmur that sent heat lancing straight to your core.

"Sure about that, Princess? Because I can still smell how fucking wet you are for me..." He let the words linger as his tongue traced the delicate whorls of your ear, teeth grazing your lobe with just the barest hint of pressure. "I think your mind hasn't caught up with how much your greedy little cunt still craves me buried deep inside you."

A mortified whimper slipped past your lips at his crude insinuation, body betraying you as your thighs clenched instinctively. God, why did his filthy words affect you so viscerally? You knew you should push him away and storm off, but your limbs felt frozen in place under his magnetic pull.

You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting against the molten desire coiling low in your abdomen. "Stop it, Endo," you managed in a strained whisper. "Just...stop."

Rather than obey, his nose nuzzled along your jaw in a teasing caress. "You know you don't really want me to stop, Princess," he rumbled against your tingling skin. Warm breath ghosted over your neck as he pressed closer still. "Your pretty lips might be saying no, but that sweet little cunt of yours is begging me to take what's mine again."

His wicked words pierced straight through your rapidly deteriorating defenses, setting your nerves ablaze. You could practically feel your resolve crumbling, rational thoughts stampeded by the carnal reminder of how Endo had always reduced you to a quivering, wanton mess under his dominance.

Gathering every ounce of your remaining willpower, you planted your palms against Endo's firm chest and shoved him backwards with surprising force. He stumbled slightly, arching a brow in what looked like genuine shock at your uncharacteristic defiance.

"I said no, Yamato," you bit out firmly, desperately ignoring the way his ruffled hair and flushed lips made your mouth go dry with want. "This was the last time, end of story. I'm not cleaning up your messes anymore or letting you derail my life just so you can get your rocks off whenever the itch strikes."

Rather than shrink from your harsh rebuke, Endo's expression settled into a lazy smirk - the calm before the storm. "That's what you think this is? Just a booty call to help scratch an itch?" His gaze raked over your body in a molten perusal that had you flushing hotly. "If that's all I wanted, I could find a dozen random whores to plow through whenever I got a little antsy. But you and I both know it's never been that simple between us, [Y/N]."

You wanted to protest, but the words died on your lips. Because beneath the seductive bravado, Endo's taunts rang with an undeniable truth. The explosive, shameless passion you shared arose from somewhere far deeper and more primal than just base physical cravings. It was a soul-scorching, cosmic pull that defied loyalty or principles or even free will itself.

Endo watched the myriad of emotions flickering over your features before letting out a slow exhale. "Look, if you're serious about cutting ties completely, then fine - I'll walk away after tonight. But at least let me buy you one last drink first, yeah? Let's toast our... special friendship properly before going our separate ways."

Your eyes searched his, hunting in vain for any hint of agenda or manipulation. All you found was that infuriatingly cavalier smolder you knew so well, daring you to refuse his request as if he already knew you'd cave eventually. Just like you always did.

"Just one drink?" you asked at last with heavy skepticism. Endo offered you a slow, heated smile that had your pulse kicking up instinctively.

"Scout's honor," he murmured, winking conspiratorially. "We can play it real classy for our big final hurrah." His large, calloused hand extended in silent invitation, and despite your better judgement you found yourself reaching out to take it.

Endo's fingers curled around yours possessively as he pulled you flush against his powerful frame once more. Those chiseled features were set in a predatory cast of cocky assurance as if he already knew you'd be too intoxicated by his mere presence to break free again so easily.

"Just relax and let me take you for one more spin around the block, Princess," he rumbled in a seductive timbre that made your knees go weak. "And who knows? Maybe you'll find you don't actually want to walk away after all."

You swallowed hard, refusing to concede to the anticipation gnawing inside you. For all his bravado, you told yourself Endo was wrong about this being more than a final closing of the door between you. This drink would be nothing more than a polite farewell toast, even as your heart hammered a staccato percussion of excited denial.

The bar Endo steered you towards was far more upscale than you'd anticipated. Rich, burgundy leather booths lined the dimly lit interior while ambient jazz crooned from unseen speakers, lending an almost sensual ambiance to the air. You arched a skeptical brow as the immaculately dressed host led you towards one of the more secluded alcove tables tucked discreetly away.

"What's all this?" you murmured as Endo's palm found the small of your back, ushering you ahead of him with proprietary ease. "Since when do you frequent places that require actual dress codes?"

He leaned in close so his lips brushed the delicate shell of your ear, voice a low rumble that made your pulse spike traitorously. "What, you think I can't do classy for our final encore?"

There was a dangerous edge of challenge lingering beneath the teasing lilt of his words. You shot him a withering look over your shoulder, but couldn't quite banish the shiver of anticipation his proximity awoke low in your belly.

"Just don't go overboard trying to impress me, Endo," you shot back lightly, willing your voice not to waver.

The smirk he flashed you was all teeth and sin. "Now where's the fun in that, Princess?"

You rolled your eyes overtly to deflect from the treacherous fluttering in your chest. But as Endo's palm settled at the small of your back once more to guide you into the plush booth, you had to admit the upscale venue lent an exciting new illicitness to your sordid history. Even now, surrounded by muted sophistication, you could vividly picture him bending you over the polished bar for a delirious claiming right there amidst the hobnobbing elites.

Despite your determination to keep things platonic and focused, Endo seemed to settle into your shared surroundings with predatory ease - like a lion effortlessly blending into the brush to stalk its prey. While you perused the menu of top-shelf liquors with reluctant curiosity, he watched you with those piercing glacier eyes, undisguised hunger simmering behind the casual sprawl of his pose.

"So," he drawled after the waiter had taken your orders, voice dropping an octave in that way designed to make your thighs clench instinctively. "Now that we've gone and gotten all gussied up, figured we should make the most of it and have a proper final toast, yeah?"

You eyed him warily over the rim of your initial whiskey neat, unsure where exactly he intended to steer the conversation from here. Experience had taught you that Endo's deceptively lazy demeanor often belied calculated intent - usually of the variety designed to seduce or unsettle you in equal provocative measure.

"Oh? And what exactly does a 'proper toast' entail in your book?" You opted for sardonic deflection, already tasting the bittersweet truth lingering behind his silken words.

Those striking blue eyes of his glinted dangerously from beneath hooded lids as Endo reclined further into the cushy leather backing. You watched his distractingly full lips curve in the barest hint of a smirk around the crystal tumbler. When he spoke again, his inflection seemed off-handedly casual - though you knew better than to dismiss the banked heat lacing every syllable.

"Well, I figured if we're gonna bid a permanent adieu to our...friendship, we ought to take a trip down memory lane first." Endo's stare burned like twin lasers into the side of your face until you reluctantly dragged your gaze back to meet his. "For old times' sake, baby. Don't tell me you've already forgotten all the fun we've shared over the years?"

His words, coupled with that unmistakable sensual rasp curling around each syllable, punched the air from your lungs in a shuddery exhale. Of course Endo would opt to take this path - revisiting your tangled past and the scorching trail of sins committed under the thrall of your explosive chemistry. But even as indignation flared instinctively at his shameless provocation, you realized a deeper truth in the back of your mind:

Despite the chaos and heartache, some wistful kernel of you still cherished and clung to the delirious history you'd spun with Endo against all reason or consequences. Those moments of rapture where only your tangled bodies and the communion of souls unraveling existed.

As if sensing the direction of your contemplations, Endo's wolfish grin widened by a few molten degrees. His tongue darted out to trace the seam of his bottom lip - a painfully lewd gesture he knew would transfix your undivided attention.

"Don't tell me that pretty mouth's forgotten how to suck dick properly, counselor," he purred in a cadence dripping sin and blatant masculine confidence. "Because I've got more than a few hazy memories of you choking on my thick cock while tearstained and desperate for more..."

Your breath hitched almost imperceptibly, but Endo's laser-focus never wavered. Of course he would lead with the most visceral reminder of your depraved bedroom antics - the times you'd utterly surrendered control to worship the most intimate, physical part of him with mouth and hands. Those memories swamped you in tandem with his filthy reminisce at the worst possible moment.

You saw flashes of Endo's powerful body looming over you, scarred and virile, as you nuzzled into the taut vee of his straining abs with kittenish flicks of your eager tongue. Sinking down his rigid shaft with a lewd moan until your makeup streaked salty tears from the exquisite stretch of him prying you open. The way he'd hiss encouragement through gritted teeth, hips undulating to chase your bobbing mouth's suction as you eagerly deepthroated every delicious inch of him...

A sudden jolt jarred you from the sensual reverie with heated cheeks. Endo was regarding you smugly, eyes glittering across the table in feral triumph.

"Mmm...yeah, I can see those dusty old spank bank files are all updating nicely in that brilliant head of yours," he rumbled in a tone ribbed with masculine satisfaction. "Don't go shy on me now, Princess. We're just getting back in our groove before the grand finale, after all."

You swallowed hard against the flush of embarrassment mixed with indecent excitement coursing through your veins. Despite your earlier conviction, the truth was that part of you longed to indulge in this carnal nostalgia tour Endo offered. To let your most depraved, uninhibited self free to revel in the ecstasy of worshipping and being claimed by her perfect match one final time.

But of course Yamato wouldn't stop there. Having glimpsed the first tendrils of your resistance cracking, he ruthlessly pressed on - ripping the scab off one of your most potent shared regrets with punishing alacrity.

"Speaking of perfect cocksucking form..." he drawled with an indolent roll of his broad shoulders, gaze turning molten once more. "Whatever happened to that wet little side-piece you tried playing house with for a while there? That nice guy accountant I always felt just knew you were letting him pound that greedy pussy on the regular?"

The sudden mention of your ex hit like a lash straight across your composure. You recoiled, anger and resentment congealing into a churning conflagration in your core at Endo's utter lack of tact or pity in casually disinterring such raw wounds from your shared history.

Before you could fire off the scathing retort hovering behind your teeth, Endo simply barreled past your seething glower - all traces of humor vanishing behind a mask of inhuman intensity that stole the breath from your lungs anew.

"Don't think I don't remember how his sad puppy-dog eyes used to track me whenever I showed up to claim my sloppy seconds fresh outta you, Princess," he intoned with sadistic relish, tongue tracing his bottom lip with needling intent. "Always scanning you for hints of where my fat cock had been stretching out those swollen little lips or blooming bruises down your perfect thighs...while he got to lap at my handiwork like the pathetic cuck bitch he was."

The words seemed to sear across the vulnerable hollows of your psyche with ruthless efficacy. Endo's stark unpacking of all your most shameful pasts hit like barbs tearing flesh - resurrecting a maelstrom of emotional turmoil you'd naively hoped to leave behind when moving on from that chapter of your life. But as his taunting smirk curled higher and the glint of wolfish victory flashed behind those glacial irises, you realized he was nowhere near finished lancing your deepest regrets and indignities wide open just yet.

"Face facts, sweetheart," he crooned with rich malevolence, leaning forward over the tabletop to pin you in place with his magnetic presence alone. "You let that poor bastard play pretend for a little while, sure - but we both know he could never truly own that greedy slut-body of yours the way I've fucked you down to the core of your being countless times before."

The sound of your whiskey glass trembling against the tabletop was deafening, nerves shuddering beneath the incendiary weight of his revelations. Because despite your anger, despite your every intention to maintain a cool, dismissive front, Endo's stark unpacking of your sordid history resonated with undeniable truth.

You remembered the guilt-soaked nights you'd clung to your then-boyfriend's sleeping form like a lifeline - desperately fighting away the muscle memories of Endo's brutal claiming and carnal ownership every time his chiseled features or punishing physique flashed behind your lids.

The hot, festering shame of enduring the most transcendent pleasures imaginable in Endo's arms only hours earlier before stumbling home to the man you swore fidelity to under far more mundane circumstances. The disconnect, the psychic sundering, and dissonance had very nearly driven you past the brink of stability on several occasions as your tangled allegiances strained under the immense gravity shared between you and Yamato.

"You tried to run from this perfect fucked up union we share, Princess," Endo continued in a molten growl that punched straight through your trembling defenses. "But I'll always be buried so deep and tangled in the root of your core that you could never shake me, no matter how many bullshit half-measure replacements you cobbled together along the way."

Suddenly, he was leaning in so close you could trace every rugged detail of his classically handsome features and smell the tang of whiskey on his tongue. Those blue eyes blazed with bruising intensity, appetite naked and unapologetic as he surveyed you with cool possession.

"Don't act all torn up over it, baby," Endo breathed, cupping the delicate line of your jaw with commanding insistence until your gazes locked irreversibly. "It's who and what we are - two beautiful flesh tapestries of depravity woven together at the souls to bring out the worst in one another..."

His words seemed to scour away the last lingering pretenses between you like gritty sandpaper, laying bare the churning truths of your psyches in one scouring revelatory blast. Because in the end, Yamato had always been the only mirror capable of reflecting the ravenous hunger and unshakable darkness lurking deep in your core without flinching or casting judgment as a result.

You opened your mouth to respond - to rebut Endo's provocative litany or perhaps surrender fully to the naked truth burning between you. But any retort shriveled on your tongue as a familiar voice cut through the dim ambiance of the bar.

"Well I'll be damned! If it isn't the city's most cutthroat legal pit-bull herself gracing us mere mortals with her presence."

You whipped around in your seat to find one of your former high-profile clients beaming at you from across the lounge area. Watanabe Takumi, local celebrity chef and serial philanderer, looked every inch the roguish charmer in his designer suit and wolfish grin.

"Mr. Watanabe," you greeted with a polite smile, tamping down the flare of embarrassment at being unexpectedly spotted out at such an intimate venue. "Fancy running into you here of all places."

Despite the charged tension still crackling between you and Endo, you moved to rise out of ingrained courtesy. But Watanabe waved you off, already sidling up to your secluded alcove with that same easy swagger.

"Please, no need for formalities between friends," he chuckled, those hazel eyes flickering with undisguised appreciation as they raked over your form. "And might I say you're an absolute vision in that dress tonight, darling."

You forced out an awkward titter at his unsubtle flattery, silently cursing whoever had assigned you Watanabe's high-profile divorce proceedings a few years back. While his team had ultimately triumphed with your ruthless counsel, Watanabe himself had exhibited a flair for testing your professional boundaries throughout the whole lurid saga.

Now Endo shifted in unmistakable interest from beside you, eyes flicking between the two of you with a leonine gleam you recognized all too well. Before you could politely disengage from Watanabe's advances, that low rasp sent a shiver racing straight down your nape.

"Well aren't you going to introduce your old friend here to your...dinner companion for the evening, Princess?"

The emphasis laden into that final endearment brooked no misinterpretation of his sudden prickling territoriality. You fought back a wince, already sensing the disastrous collision course taking shape as Watanabe openly regarded your companion for the first time.

Unfortunately, he seemed to view Endo's silent smolder and rugged good looks as some sort of unspoken challenge rather than a warning. Those hazel irises sparked with clear masculine relish at the prospect of some impromptu romantic rivalry.

"You sly minx!" Watanabe chuckled, shaking his head in exaggerated disbelief. "Here I'd thought this was just another quiet evening out for the hardest working woman I know. But look at you all dolled up with tall, dark, and handsome for company!"

Before you could get a word in edgewise, Watanabe had plopped down onto the opposite side of your booth and extended a hand across the table with a broad, charming smile.

"Watanabe Takumi. Honored to make your acquaintance, my friend."

His greeting hung in the stifling air for several beats, tension thickening inexorably around Endo's thunderous silence. You could practically see the muscle twitching in the sharp cut of his jawline as he visibly wrestled with his rising temper.

When he finally moved, the scorching brand of his palm settled against the back of your neck in a grip just shy of painful possession. Your pulse kicked up traitorously at the intimate claiming gesture as Endo leaned across the table with pantherlike grace - eyes chips of arctic ice boring into Watanabe with unfiltered menace.

"The name's Endo Yamato," he purred with deceptive softness, powerful body radiating dangerous charisma from every angled line. "Though my girlfriend tends to call me plenty of...other little endearments when we're getting rough."

The verbal gauntlet smacked heavily against Watanabe's cockiness, his bravado withering under the stark acknowledgment of your intimate attachment to Endo. His well-manicured hand faltered mid-air before withdrawing numbly back across the table.

"I...see," he managed at length with an audible squirm of embarrassment. "Well I ah, didn't meant to intrude on what I now realize was a private evening."

You could practically taste the raw antagonism and primal masculine ego thrumming between the two men. Despite your better instincts, something hot and undeniable kindled low in your abdomen as you watched the unspoken clash of prowess unfold before you.

"Smart decision," Endo crooned, somehow making the words sound like a thinly veiled threat rather than empty praise. He shifted imperceptibly, cutting Watanabe's line of sight towards you off entirely with the imposing wall of his torso.

"Why don't you go ahead and get back to whatever new little plaything or legal matter you're hustling these days?" Endo continued with predatory, unhurried enunciation, the tip of his tongue tracing the seam of his lower lip on the final syllables. "I'm sure there are plenty of desperate cum-dumpsters willing to throw themselves at you all night without needing to cockblock a private date, am I right?"

The sudden transition from civil discourse to sexually-charged intimidation seemed to make Watanabe's blood run cold. You watched the flush of embarrassment drain from his features, skin taking on an unhealthy pallor as he eyed the promise of violence hovering over Endo's still frame like a thunderhead.

He swallowed audibly, throat bobbing above the crisp knot of his tie. "I uhh...I think you're right," Watanabe stammered, easing himself back from the booth with jerky motions. "Terribly sorry for interrupting, folks. Just ah...just enjoying a quiet evening out with my plus-one, as you said."

With that, the disgraced celebrity chef beat a hasty retreat without so much as a backwards glance - his tail thoroughly tucked between his legs. You watched him disappear through the throng with a certain hollow resignation, already anticipating the storm swelling just behind your shoulder from Endo.

Sure enough, no sooner had Watanabe vanished from sight than your erstwhile lover rounded on you with undisguised displeasure carved into his striking features. Endo's hand found your chin in a vice-grip, wrenching you around to meet his glacial stare head-on.

"I know you love to act like a desperate little cock-tease, Princess," he practically snarled, the words dripping with visceral menace as his blazing eyes bored into yours. Any trace of seductive charm had evaporated, replaced by a dark storm of possessive fury. "But letting assholes like him try to poach my woman from under my nose, right in front of me? That's crossing the fucking line."

You bristled at his crude insinuation, anger and indignation roaring through your veins like wildfire. How dare he speak to you with such blatant disrespect and sexist condescension? The mere implication that you were some vapid little plaything to be leered at or "poached" by other men made your jaw clench hard enough to ache.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that again," you bit out in a low, dangerous tone - eyes flashing with thinly leashed rage. "I'm nobody's 'woman' or desperate cock-tease, you arrogant prick."

Rather than cowing him, your vehement rebuke seemed to further stoke the inferno of possessive fury blazing behind Endo's piercing glare. He leaned forward, crowding you against the booth until the heady musk of his cologne mingled with the faint tang of whiskey on his lips to make your head swim.

"The hell you aren't," he snarled, upper lip curling to expose the barest hint of teeth in a feral snarl. "I saw the way you were letting that greasy bastard eye-fuck you right in front of me like it was open season, [Y/N]. Don't try denying your little slut tendencies when we both know how much it gets you off provoking my jealousy..."

You opened your mouth to unleash a torrent of vitriol back in his face, utterly appalled by his vulgar misogyny and audacious projections. But Endo wasn't finished ruthlessly airing his depraved assumptions yet. One rough hand tangled in your hair, gripping a fistful to wrench your head back until your lips parted on a gasp of indignant pain.

"Yeah, that's it..." he purred like a predator savoring the first scents of its trapped prey. "Get all riled up and fighting mad for me, sweetheart. You know it just makes me want to bend your feisty little ass over this table and fuck some manners back into that gorgeous mouth of yours even harder..."

Despite your rising fury, every base instinct within you seemed to sharpen at the leashed violence in his words. Your pupils blew wide, breath hitching as forbidden tendrils of sick arousal began unfurling in the pit of your stomach. Because Endo had always possessed an unnerving talent for rousing your most depraved hungers with the barest provocation - stripping away your veneer of civility until only your most primal, wanton core remained exposed to his piercing wolf's gaze.

"You're despicable..." you managed in a strangled rasp, trying in vain to regain solid footing against the quicksand of heated sensation rapidly engulfing you. Endo's teeth glinted wolfishly, tongue darting out to lave his bottom lip with blatant intent. Just the sight of it made your thighs clench with treacherous longing.

"Tell me something I don't know, Princess," he rumbled in a cadence that seemed to resonate deep in your tingling core. Somehow, he'd managed to shift even closer - so near you could feel the tantalizing rasp of his breath ghosting over your parted lips and heightening your tortured arousal to dizzying new heights. "Like how you still fucking cream yourself like a deprived little cock-whore every time I remind you of how thoroughly I used to break you down and re-sculpt your dirty desires between the sheets..."

A soft whine slipped past your defenses at the crude provocation, body positively thrumming with the effort not to give in and surrender to the primal lust building inside you like a supernova. You could practically taste the bestial musk radiating off Endo's chiseled form now. It called to you like the sweetest nectar, beckoning you to open wide and swallow the full vitriolic draught of his rapacious presence until nothing remained within you but gasping, mindless need to be claimed and remolded to his whims...

No - you couldn't succumb. Not here in public before you'd even scraped the surface of retaining some scrap of pride and boundaries from this final encounter. Gathering what remained of your tattered composure with a visible effort, you steeled your spine and turned your face away until you no longer swam in the intoxicating depths of Endo's oceanic stare.

"I'm leaving," you grit out with as much conviction as you could still muster, untangling yourself from his ensnaring limbs with jerky tugs. "Pull another stunt like threatening innocent bystanders over your own delusional baggage again, and I swear to God this ends right here with me walking away for good - no further discussion."

Despite your best efforts at a firm rebuke, the words emerged shaky and wavering with residual heady arousal. And Endo, the bastard, clearly couldn't resist twisting the knife one final time before you rose on quivering legs to escape his suffocating orbit of sin and subversion.

"Sure thing, babydoll..." he practically purred, voice lowering to a gravel-rough timbre that seemed to stroke molten velvet against your overstimulated senses. "Whatever helps you walk away with that gorgeous pussy still dripping like a deprived little slut aching to get her guts rearranged properly again..."

You shuddered at the perverse benediction, clenching your thighs together against the renewed onslaught of dizzying desire lashing through your core at his words. He was right - despite your lingering wrath and righteous fury, your body had become a screaming conflagration of raw want desperate to surrender and be reshaped anew between the crucible of Endo's punishing depths.

He watched you rise and totter on unsteady legs with a knowing smirk, all traces of the earlier alpha posturing replaced by calculating amusement and predatory intent. Before you could flee his company fully, Endo's next words sliced through your lingering restraint with cruel efficacy:

"You can deny it and pretend all you want, baby...but we both know you're still gonna come slinking back to beg Daddy's thick cock to wreck you proper before this night's over."

The coiled possession dripping from that final endearment nearly buckled your knees through sheer profane revelation. You trembled with simmering umbrage and molten arousal alike, torn between spitting acid vitriol or surrendering to the reckless riptide of ecstasy his unwavering confidence promised to unmake you within.

In the end, pride - or perhaps mere survival instinct - prevailed through sheer force of obstinate will. You managed to wrench your gaze away from Endo's towering temptation, turning on unsteady feet to storm away from his carnal dominion before you surrendered completely once more.

"Save your depravity for someone actually worth defiling themselves to that degree," you tossed over your shoulder without looking back, each word clipped and trembling like a winter brook's crust of ice over surging rapids. "I'm through letting you reduce me to some wanton little plaything for your sick amusement."

With that vain insistence, you pressed on towards the exit lounge - painfully aware of the relentless promise laced through every measured footfall stalking easily in your wake. Because Endo refused to be outrun or evaded from his obsessive hunt, a singularity of primal appetite refusing to be denied the final cataclysmic reunion awaiting you both tonight regardless of all flimsy human resistances...

The steaming bathwater enveloped you like a warm cocoon as you sank deeper into the fragrant depths with a weary sigh. Despite your best efforts, the tension from your earlier encounter with Endo refused to fully unwind from your muscles.

You closed your eyes, trying to chase away the lingering memories of his towering frame crowding you with scorching intensity. The smoldering promise blazing behind those glacier eyes as he growled crude provocations against your lips. The undeniable flare of sick arousal that had blazed through you at his bestial display of dominance, even as righteous indignation roared in protest.

"Insufferable bastard," you muttered under your breath, feeling traitorous heat prickling along your skin despite the herbal bath's soothing vapors.

Endo just couldn't help himself, could he? Always pushing any situation toward selfish gratification and power plays, uncaring whose boundaries he trampled in pursuit of his next conquest. You felt the blush of shame tinging your cheeks as you recalled how utterly weak you'd become before his lascivious words and possessive fury, body betraying every flimsy defense despite your convictions.

Still, you couldn't resist sinking deeper into the bathwater as flashes of your incendiary pasts washed over your consciousness in lurid delirium. You remembered countless desperate trysts with Endo where he'd reduced you to a whimpering, submissive mess through seemingly little more than brooding charisma and intoxicating confidence alone...

Squeezing your thighs together, you shuddered at the muscle memory of him splitting you open on his punishing cock as he savagely claimed your quivering form again and again. Each agonizing stretch of being pried apart to accommodate his sheer masculine bulk had always felt like a rapturous rebirth into the searing crucible of sin and subservient devotion only Endo could instill in you.

Your fingers sought your aching pussy almost instinctively, picturing his rough palms pinning your thighs wide in blatant ownership as his thumb circled torturous patterns against your oversensitized clit. You couldn't bite back the tiny whimper at the phantom recollection, hips stuttering in involuntary grind against your own questing fingers before you managed to rein the temptation back under rigid control.

"Enough of that," you scolded yourself shakily, snatching your wandering digits away with renewed determination. There was no use getting so worked up fantasizing like a lovesick, desperate virgin. You were no simpering ingenue to be enraptured by Endo's primal allure. At least, not any longer...

With immense willpower, you allowed the bathwater to drain completely until it receded into a cold reminder of reality around you. Rising on trembling legs, you reached for the plush towel and dried yourself with brisk, merciless efficiency — ignoring the slick arousal still dripping between your thighs in mute testimony to the rapture consuming you.

By the time you emerged into your bedroom, you felt a brittle semblance of composure had settled over your being once more. Until you turned the corner fully and pulled up short at the sight of Endo casually lounging across your mattress, rolling a delicate pair of your lace panties between his fingers.

"Wondered when you'd show," he rumbled in that smoke-roughened baritone that never failed to make you shudder. Those blue eyes glinted with taunting relish as he studied you standing frozen in your towel. "You always did take your sweet time getting dolled up...even if I planned on ruining the pretty pictures anyway before the night was through."

"How..." you growled, momentarily nonplussed by his effortless violation of your private sanctuary. Anger resurged as a defensive reflex while you clutched your towel tighter. "How did you get in here, Endo? I never—"

"Did you really think this ivory tower of yours could keep me out for long?" His brows lifted fractionally, dark amusement playing over his striking features. "Please, sweetheart. We both know there ain't a single locked door, alarm or fancy high-society hurdle that could ever truly bar me from what's rightfully mine."

The air seemed to charge with sudden electricity as your gazes locked, molten indignation and dark promise swirling in the space between your frames. You knew Endo was baiting you deliberately, but the crudely possessive declaration made your temper flare regardless.

"Yours?" You scoffed before you could reconsider rising to his provocation. "You arrogant son of a bitch. I don't belong to you or anyone else, Yamato. No matter what twisted psychosexual delusions your ego might be clinging to these days."

Rather than looking chastened, Endo merely smiled around the words - a slow, wolfish curl of sinful promise that made your core muscles flutter instinctively. The bath's towel suddenly felt achingly thin and inadequate as a barrier against his piercing presence.

"Aw c'mon, baby..." he crooned, tongue flicking over those sculpted lips with shameless intent. "We played these uptight little games a million times before, but you know damn well how this fairytale act of yours always ends up the same way..."

You watched in mingled trepidation and forbidden longing as Endo rose from his indolent sprawl on your bed with leonine grace, dropping your panties onto the floor. Every coiled inch of his powerful physique screamed dominance and assured possession, hips rolling in a hypnotic cadence that drew your gaze helplessly. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't tear your widened stare away from the imposing spectacle of taut muscle and assured masculine menace steadily closing the distance between you.

"I'm nothing if not a patient man," Endo practically purred, coming to loom over you fully within your bedroom's hushed dimness. The heat radiating off his body in searing waves seemed to smother your next protests before they could form. "So you go ahead and keep on stomping those pretty feet all you like while you still got some fight left in you..."

His rough palm cupped your jaw then with shocking tenderness, guiding your chin up so your faces hovered perilously close together. You froze like a captive doe pinned in oncoming headlamps, senses overwhelmed by the earthy musk of his skin and hot whiskey burr of his breath ghosting across your parted lips.

"Because we both know that by the time I'm done tonight?" Endo's voice had dropped to a gravelly murmur of dark, intoxicating promise now. "You'll be just another greedy little whore begging for my fat cock to fuck every last scrap of denial right back out of you like always, Princess..."

Then his mouth was crashing over yours in a searing, punishing kiss that seared away your very breath from your lungs. You shuddered and whimpered against the uncompromising onslaught — hands scrabbling weakly against his chiseled chest as Endo swept you off your feet and bore you backwards towards the rumpled sheets.

"Look at you..." Endo growled in a voice dripping with dark relish as he bore you down onto the bed. His towering frame caged you beneath searing heat and tightly leashed menace. "Acting all coy and innocent, like you're not already soaking that greedy little cunt for me despite your prim act."

You glared up at him defiantly, mouth opening on a scathing rejoinder. But his calloused palm clamped over your lips in a shockingly dominant gesture, fingers digging into your jaw hard enough to make you wince.

"Ah ah ah..." he tsked with a disapproving shake of his head, glacial eyes glinting dangerously. "None of those spitfire little protests you think make you sound so righteously above all this depravity we know damn well is simmering beneath that icy exterior, Princess."

Despite yourself, you felt a tremor of treacherous heat coil low in your belly at his blatant dominance and crude dismissal of your indignation. Endo's smirk widened fractionally as he no doubt tracked the quickening of your pulse, the way your pupils dilated against your will.

"See, that's the difference between us, gorgeous," he purred in a low rumble that seemed to vibrate straight to your rapidly liquifying core. His nose grazed the line of your jugular in a sensual glide, drawing a strangled whimper against his restraining palm. "I've never once tried to deny or lie about what a depraved pair of greedy sluts we are deep down when it comes to stripping each other bare and surrendering completely..."

You wanted to protest, to writhe away from the dark truths Endo breathed across your electrified nerve endings with carnal physicality. But his scent and presence surrounded you utterly, leaving you feeling dazed and strangely disarmed beneath his imposing dominance in your innermost sanctuary like this.

Endo seemed to sense your internal struggle, grinning wickedly as he slowly freed your lips from his restraining grip. He caged your face on either side with his corded forearms, giving you just enough leeway to part your lips on a tremulous exhale...while leaving no doubt of your helplessness pinned so thoroughly beneath his bulk.

"Go on then, sweetheart," he growled with a wolfish smirk, undulating his hips in a slow grind that had your breath hitching in your throat. "Give us one of those haughty little speeches about how you'd never let some thug like me defile your body and take what's mine whenever I damn well please..."

You swallowed audibly, entire being thrumming with humiliated arousal at his flagrant display of possession and ownership over your prone form. But this time, the vehement refusal wouldn't quite find voice past the desert dryness of your yearning.

Instead, what emerged was a soft mewl of raw need - punctuated by you reflexively canting your hips upwards in search of glorious friction against Endo's weight above you. You blinked up at him in a daze, frustration simmering at your mouth's betrayal even as your body sung with the truth of being made so helplessly wanting by his dominance once again.

"Yeah, that's what I fucking thought..." Endo rumbled in a gravelly rasp overflowing with relish and virile promise. His nose traced the shell of your ear, wandering mouth leaving a slick trail of possession down your prickling throat as he growled in your ear: "We both know that greedy little cunt of yours won't be satisfied with anything less than this real, raw cock stretching you out properly like the needy slut you are at heart."

You whimpered involuntarily at the filthy promise laced through his words, not even trying to disguise the way your thighs clenched together with visceral longing at the crude imagery. You knew he could feel your treacherous arousal spiking against where your bodies ground so fragrantly. Smell the slick desperation likely glossing your aching folds as they grew slicker by the second from being so thoroughly claimed and toyed with beneath his gaze like prey.

"Ngghh..." you choked out on a quavering exhale, pawing ineffectually at the solid mass of Endo's shoulders as he continued taunting and laying you raw. "Y-You're...foul...you...know that?"

Rather than look chastised, Endo simply smiled down at you in dark, naked amusement - clearly savoring the position of sheer power he'd so effortlessly displaced you into. One large hand tangled in the hair at your nape as he wrenched your head to the side in a rough show of dominance. You shuddered helplessly as his mouth blazed a searing path over the vulnerable line of your jugular, teeth grazing in a blatant promise of savagery.

"Oh I know exactly how goddamn foul and depraved I'm being with you, Princess," he rumbled against the saltprickled thrum of your pulse, tongue dragging a long languid lap that wrenched another involuntary moan from your core. "Right down to knowing that pretty little mouth of yours was just made for my cock to split those lips wide right about now..."

You tried to shake your head in denial, but Endo's grip went punishingly tight in your hair — hauling your head back at a sharp angle to bare your throat fully to his possession once again. Panic and forbidden arousal spiked in equal measure as he loomed over you with those glacier eyes blazing unholy promises of rapture and ravaging down to your very soul.

"Don't you dare try to deny the truth now, sweetheart," Endo snarled in a voice like milled gravel against your tingling senses. His hips ground down harder into your molten apex in emphasis, drawing a strangled whine from somewhere deep in your chest. "We both know you only get this riled up and squirming when I remind what a painfully pathetic little cumdump you turn into just begging for me to use that greedy body however I want..."

Despite your best efforts, your body seemed to instinctively surrender to his crudely spoken possession. You couldn't stop the way your thighs parted in supplication or the way your back arched wantonly in silent petitioning for more of his dominance and punishment. Endo's feral grin widened at the visceral display.

"That's it, baby..." he crooned with undisguised rapture, hips circling in a devastatingly sensual pattern you knew from feverish experience would soon drive you past any coherency for protest or denial. "Just give in and let go like a good little bitch getting exactly what she's been craving..."

You turned your head away then, squeezing your eyes shut as if you could somehow block out the wave of utter submission cresting over your defenses. Everything about Endo's presence and effortless mastery raked against your tattered resistance with brutal physicality. Leaving your psyche utterly disarmed and your body thrumming in wanton obedience to the core against anything further than total surrender and recreation beneath him once again.

The rustle of sheets and fabric filled the hushed bedroom. You held your breath as the blazing brand of Endo's weight shifted and the heat of his body suddenly left yours completely. For one hopeful beat, some vestige of your mind prepared itself to flee - to run from this reckoning and unholy reclamation of your defiant spirit before it swallowed you whole in blasphemous glory again.

But then his rough palms found your shins, dragging your calves apart with searing possession until your thighs parted like gates swinging wide for the conquering ruler. Your eyes snapped back open with a ragged inhalation, panic spiking as Endo crouched between your splayed limbs like the apex predator regarding its newly subdued prey.

From this vantage, you could clearly trace every inch of chiseled virility and battle-hewn potency etched into his form. Every vein and ridgeline of musculature seemed to emanate threat and masculine intent underpinned by utter surety in his right to take what belonged to him again. Yet as his piercing, ravenous gaze consumed your newly exposed vulnerability, Endo somehow appeared all the more depraved and all-consuming despite the stark nudity.

"Look at me, Princess..." His voice carried the quiet, hushed command of one accustomed to being obeyed utterly. You trembled with the urge to deny him, to resist yet again with venom or futile struggles. But his words cut through any lingering pretense or courage to defy like butter.

"Look into the eyes of the only man who's ever truly ruined you before..." Endo demanded, reaching out with leashed menace to grasp your chin in a vise of heat and corded power. You had no choice but to meet his feral, ice-chip stare head on as he seared your very essence with that unholy promise once more.

"This is me coming to unmake every last strand of that good-girl facade once and for all tonight, sweetheart..." The endearment dropped from his tongue like profane vow, punctuated by his free hand sliding between your thighs to stroke those slick, swollen folds with teasing ownership.

"So say goodbye to all those denial and delusions about being anything other than my personal whore to fuck as I see fit, baby girl..." Endo growled, thumb circling your aching clit with delicious friction until your back arched into a taut bow of needful agony. "By the time I'm through, that perfect mouth won't have a single shred of false innocence or dignity left to lie behind..."

He surged over you once more with leonine grace, swallowing your tremulous whimper of fatalistic arousal in a searing, punishing brand of his mouth devouring yours entirely. His tongue lashed against yours in searing possession, teeth sinking into the plushness of your lower lip in a warning nip of pain and pleasure that left your toes curling.

Your fingers scrabbled uselessly at the flexing mass of his shoulders, digging into corded muscle hard enough to leave crescents behind in a futile bid to anchor yourself against his all-consuming onslaught. Endo only growled deep in his throat, clearly enjoying the way you clung and clawed and writhed beneath him like prey pinned by the most savage predator.

"Mmm, that's my girl..." Endo crooned against your kiss-swollen lips, one large hand cupping your breast and kneading the yielding flesh with possessive vigor. His calloused fingertips brushed over your pebbled nipple in teasing strokes that sent jolts of need straight to your already soaked apex. "So ready and eager for me to ruin and fuck every last inch of you again, aren't you, baby?"

His head lowered, capturing the bud between his teeth in a sudden, ruthless nip that wrenched a ragged cry from the depths of your throat. Your thighs clenched convulsively, core muscles clenching and fluttering around empty air with desperate want. Endo smirked around his mouthful of supple flesh, lashing the sting with the flat of his tongue until you writhed and pleaded incoherently.

"Such a shameful display..." he rumbled in a voice thickened with depraved lust, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you yelp. "What would all those stuffy, sanctimonious pricks and holier-than-thou do-gooders think of their precious little lawyer acting like such a whore for a lowlife like me? Mmm?"

You tried to shake your head and deny his vulgar insinuations. But the words died on a gasp as Endo's hot, wet mouth blazed a path down your tingling midriff — teeth scraping and tongue laving with the utmost devotion until he reached the crest of your hip.

His large palms curled around the supple flesh there, parting your thighs even further so the humid gust of his breath washed over your exposed and aching folds. Your face flamed crimson at the obscene, humiliating sight you must have presented spread so wantonly for his depraved enjoyment. But Endo's eyes burned with feral, unholy worship as he drank in the sight.

"That's it..." he breathed with dark relish, thumbs spreading your slick labia apart to fully expose your needy core. "Look at you, Princess. Soaking wet and aching for me already without a single inch of my cock in that greedy cunt of yours. Fuck, you're almost too pretty like this, aren't you baby?"

Before you could react, his mouth fastened around your aching clit — lashing the swollen nub with his tongue and sucking it between his teeth in a devastating onslaught. Your back arched, entire body spasming as a bolt of searing ecstasy shot up your spine and sent you keening. Endo hummed with approval, burying his face even deeper between your trembling thighs — licking, sucking and laving until all you could do was thrash and keen and clutch at his hair with frantic, desperate hands.

"So sweet and perfect and mine, aren't you, baby?" He rumbled, the vibration sending a fresh wave of electric pleasure rippling through your core. His calloused thumbs sank into your soft folds, spreading them even further as he licked and suckled and devoured with utter carnal hunger. "That's it, sweetheart. Be a good girl and soak this perfect little pussy for me nice and good before I sink every last inch of my cock into your slutty cunt..."

You wanted to resist. To somehow reclaim some shred of self control and dignity from the dizzying spiral of sensation and need he so easily orchestrated with his sinful mouth. But each flick of his tongue or drag of his teeth against your clit sent you spiraling closer and closer to the inevitable edge. And Endo's low, filthy litany of encouragement only drove you that much more rapidly towards the inevitable climax.

"That's my girl. Let go and cum for me nice and hard. I remember how much of a squirter you are when I eatyou out like a good little slut. Don't even think about holding back, baby girl. I want to feel you flood my mouth like the naughty girl you are for me...mmphhh..."

With a muffled snarl, he fastened his lips around your clit and sucked hard enough to send you plummeting over the edge into blinding rapture. Your inner walls convulsed, muscles clamping down around nothing as a rush of slick heat gushed forth. Endo growled in pure masculine triumph, lapping up the deluge and continuing to stimulate your overly-sensitized flesh with his tongue until you collapsed back against the pillows, utterly wrung out and panting.

"Fuuuuck...you are just as fucking sweet and responsive as I remember, aren't you, baby?" Endo's voice sounded raw and guttural as he mumbled the praise right against your dripping folds. He sealed his mouth around the swollen nub again, suckling so hard that the sensation verged on pain and wrenched a ragged sob from your raw throat.

"N-No...please...I can't—" you choked out, shaking your head frantically in a weak, token gesture of protest. Your hands tugged weakly at the roots of his hair, trying to dislodge him from your overwrought sex. But Endo only growled, his grip tightening on the swell of your hips as his tongue resumed its tormenting assault.

"Oh, yes you can, baby..." he snarled, licking a long stripe along your glistening slit before thrusting his tongue inside your pulsing channel. "You're going to cum for me over and over again, sweetheart. As many times as it takes to wash away every last trace of all those other pricks you let fuck you while we were apart. So I can remind this perfect cunt exactly what it means to be fucked by a real man again..."

And then his lips were back on your aching clit, lashing and suckling the bundle of nerves mercilessly while his hands pinned you down — helpless and writhing beneath his dominant onslaught. You could only keen and whimper in broken supplication as Endo's mouth and fingers worked your aching, soaked flesh in a relentless pursuit of another shattering orgasm.

"Yamato...please, I can't...I can't...ohgodplease—"

Your back bowed taut as a drawn bow, head thrashing and toes curling as he pushed you past any capacity for coherency or restraint. The world faded away to a pinpoint of sensation, pleasure and pain blurring into a single point of agonized ecstasy until your core clenched tight and release rushed upon you once more.

You screamed hoarsely as you came apart, muscles quivering and convulsing with the force of the aftershocks. Your inner walls fluttered wildly, clamping down around the invading fingers buried deep inside you in a futile bid to draw him further inside. But Endo kept his hand perfectly still, the pad of his thumb pressing against your aching, engorged clit and keeping the stimulation just on the knife-edge of unbearable.

"Mmmm, that's it, sweetheart," Endo crooned, dragging his free hand through the sheen of perspiration that coated your torso and the valley of your breasts. He leaned up to seal his mouth over one puckered nipple, drawing the pebbled bud between his teeth in a harsh, pleasurable nip. You whimpered at the overwhelming sensation, the sound trailing off into a broken keen as he twisted his fingers buried within your clutching, molten heat.

"Fuck, the way you're milking me already, baby," he murmured reverently, licking the sweat-salted curve of your breast in a languid lap before turning his attention to the neglected twin. His fingers curled within you, brushing against the hidden spot deep inside that made stars explode across your vision. "You're almost there, aren't you? Ready to gush all over me again like a good girl, huh?"

His thumb ground mercilessly into your oversensitive clit, sending you hurtling headlong towards the brink once more. Your legs kicked reflexively, thighs squeezing tight around his forearm in an instinctive effort to escape the overload of sensation. But Endo's forearm remained firmly locked in place, fingers scissoring and curling in a devastating combination that tore the final shreds of resistance from your very soul.

"Cum for me, baby girl..." Endo murmured in a guttural growl, his own breathing gone ragged with arousal and the leashed power of his restraint. He pressed a bruising kiss to the soft flesh of your breast, teeth nipping a warning as his thumb bore down even harder on the oversensitive, swollen nub.

You cried out, head thrown back and body arching high off the mattress as another, deeper orgasm slammed through you like a runaway freight train. You gushed over Endo's fingers in a hot rush, drenching the sheets and his hand in the flood. But his wicked fingers never stopped stroking and pumping and filling you. Keeping you writhing and keening beneath his expert, depraved ministrations as wave after wave of agonized ecstasy crashed over you.

You were only dimly aware of his low, feral snarl and the sudden loss of his fingers. But then the scorching, broad head of his cock notched against your sodden folds, rubbing along your swollen slit until it notched at the entrance of your fluttering channel. Endo's strong arms slid beneath your trembling legs, hooking behind your knees and pulling your hips flush against his.

"N-No more...please, s’ too much," you choked out, shaking your head and writhing feebly in a token gesture of resistance. But Endo only smirked down at you, eyes glazed with pure, unrestrained depravity and feral desire.

"Oh, you're not going to get off that easily, baby..." he murmured, lips quirking at his own choice of words. He bent his head and dragged his tongue in a slow, deliberate path up the side of your throat, the hot, slick friction making your core pulse with renewed, shameful hunger.

"Mmm, not when your greedy cunt is sopping wet and ready for me, sweetheart..." He nipped sharply at the hinge of your jaw, the pain sending a fresh, delicious ache straight to the over-sensitized bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. "Besides, it's been far too long since I've fucked this tight little pussy nice and deep and filled it up with my cum. Think of this as your…payment for services rendered, if you will..."

You tilted your head to capture his lips in a sudden, biting kiss. Your tongue delved into his mouth, tangling and sliding against his in a fierce, punishing clash of wills and dominance. You bit down on his lower lip, nails raking bloody crescents down the expanse of his broad shoulders. Endo growled deep in his throat, surging forward to plunge his thick length inside you in a single, brutal stroke.

The sudden, full stretch of his cock parting your tight, soaked walls made you throw back your head with a choked scream. You had forgotten how thick and long and big he was. How perfectly, achingly full and complete his cock made you feel with the first, deep plunge. He seated himself fully inside you with a single, smooth glide — groaning a rough, guttural curse as your silken heat clenched around him, milking his cock and pulling him deeper into your molten core.

"God, I've fucking missed this perfect cunt, sweetheart," Endo gritted, pulling back and slamming home in a powerful stroke that jolted you up the mattress. He pinned your thighs wider, pressing them flush against your chest so that your pelvis tilted up at a nearly obscene angle. "Fuck, you're so goddamn tight...squeezing and sucking me inside that slutty little pussy so perfectly, baby."

He pulled back, the slow drag of his cock almost torturous, before thrusting home once more with a feral snarl. His footplanted on the mattress for leverage, fingers digging bruises into the flesh of your thighs as his pace sped up and turned vicious. You writhed and whimpered, the wet, filthy slap of his balls slapping against your ass punctuating the debauched chorus of moans and keens and whimpers wrenched from your raw throat.

"That's my girl," he grunted, eyes glazing and fixed on where his cock pumped and disappeared between the flushed, swollen folds of your sex. "Let me see you cum nice and hard all over my cock, baby girl."

He released one of your thighs to press his thumb against the slippery, aching nub of your clit. The sudden pressure and stimulation was almost too much. Your inner walls seized around his thick girth, spasming and fluttering wildly as he continued to pound into your molten core. Endo growled a dark curse, the cords of muscle along his neck and shoulders standing out in sharp relief as he fought his own climax.

"Fuck, baby, cum for me. Squirt all over me like a good little whore," he ordered, the raspy edge to his voice sending a fresh flood of slick heat pooling at the apex of your thighs. "Do it, Princess. Now!"

His hand pulled back and then came down right on your exposed, aching clit. The stinging slap sent a white-hot bolt of pain-tinged pleasure rocketing through you, ripping a ragged scream from your throat as a third, deeper orgasm crashed through you. You came apart with a choked, broken sob — back arching off the mattress as every muscle went taut and a gush of fresh, hot wetness sprayed over his pistoning cock and stomach.

"God [Y/N]," Endo groaned, hips slamming home in a series of frantic, uneven strokes. "You're fucking perfect."

You whimpered, shuddering and gasping for breath as your inner walls milked him with the aftershocks. Endo snarled, a primal sound that sent a fresh flood of molten arousal gushing around his buried length. He snapped his hips forward once, twice, burying himself deep as the dam finally broke and his control shattered.

His cock swelled even thicker, a low groan tearing from his chest as his hips jerked in a few frantic thrusts. Your inner walls clenched tight around his pulsing length, each pulse of his cock and burst of his cum triggering a series of fluttering spasms that prolonged his own release.

Endo's forehead dropped against your collarbone, body folding over yours as his hips bucked and his cock emptied deep inside you. His hot, heavy weight was a grounding pressure as he collapsed on top of you, muscles twitching and breath coming in great, heaving pants. You wrapped your arms around him, fingers combing through his damp, tousled hair as he continued to shudder and twitch.

He rumbled a deep, satisfied purr, tilting his head up to capture your lips in a slow, sweet kiss. You hummed contentedly, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him nestled within your sated heat. His arms shifted beneath you, rolling the two of you onto your sides in a smooth, effortless motion that left his cock still sheathed within your tight, pulsing core.

You blinked up at him, eyelids fluttering at the way his hips twitched and stirred, the friction and the sensation making you gasp. Endo's mouth quirked, his hand sliding beneath your thigh to hook behind the knee and lift it high around his waist. He rolled his hips again, cock sliding against your swollen, sensitive flesh with a wet, sticky friction that made you gasp.

"Yamato, what—?"

"It's been a long time since we've done it this way, hasn't it, sweetheart?" he asked, the wicked glint in his eye telling you all you needed to know about his intentions. His cock slid out halfway before sliding back in with a deep, lazy thrust. You mewled at the sensation, a fresh wave of warmth flooding your channel and drenching his cock.

"Think you can handle a few more, baby girl?" he whispered, mouth curving in a smirk as he pulled out and slid home once more. Your hips lifted, seeking a harder, deeper friction as he continued his languid, lazy thrusts. You nodded, biting down on the plush, swollen swell of your lower lip as your hand slid down your stomach, seeking the slippery, swollen nub of your clit.

Endo's hand caught yours, trapping it against the mattress as his lips ghosted along the sensitive shell of your ear. "Leave that to me, sweetheart," he growled, tongue flicking out to taste the delicate flesh beneath the curve of your jaw. His thrusts slowed even further, a deliciously teasing slide and drag against your tender, aching walls.

"It's going to be a long night, Princess."

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Can I just say how in love I am with the way you draw Marika? Like every art you post of her has my jaw dropping…you add such a beautiful layer of humanity to her with her dynamic expressions and poses—it’s so refreshing to see especially when so many fan arts of her needlessly sexualize her or dial her down to a one-dimensional stone-faced villain (which a villain she is—but she is still complex)

And I adore how you draw her partial nudity as something natural, meaning that you don’t draw her without a top for the sake of objectifying her,

Your art is overall so pleasant and colourful and fun to look at, and your takes of Marika’s character in your fanart is literally what made me more interested in who she is in-game.

Thank you for drawing her the way you do! (And for drawing Elden Ring fanart in general💕)

i've been letting this ask stewing in my inbox for a while because it makes me so emotional 🥲

if you look at how i drew Marika before anything in the DLC was announced, it did fall into the two categories you were talking about, because despite having a little more positive view on her than the rest of the fandom at the time, i still had no idea who she was as a person. and by that time i were more interested in Malenia, so even though i did try to envision how Marika was, it's a very distant and vague image. which is what i love about Elden Ring lore in general: we see Marika via how her children see her.

it was easy back then to conclude we'd never get her, and "mother" is a distant term that will always be overshadowed by "God", so i just went along with the general haha evil sexy girlboss thing that the fandom was doing. but then the DLC teaser dropped the another elusive (possibly firstborn) child of her, with a statue of her holding a baby in his boss room, she started to get more little quirks that's so human in my work (the small smile, the little lock of hair that curls gently) because for the first time, we see her through the eye of a son that evidently adores her, so she gets a bit more human, because someone views her with emotions that are not fear nor distance.

then the DLC drops, and it's not just through Messmer's eye (or the entirety of his being that carry so much of her love it weighs him down and twist into the most horrible curse in the end), it's through the eyes of her family that were no longer there at all. it's the jar innard enemy that huddled in a jar and clutched at a piece of raw meat, it's the Grandmother's gentle smile as she rest among a sea of flowers, it's the solitary minor erdtree that bathed the whole place in the kindness of gold, it's the Fire Knights and soldiers that clearly viewed her as Mother as much as she was God, it's Miquella throwing away his love and doubt because he didn't know how to deal with the revelation that his mother was once a fallible human just like the rest of them, it's Trina's entreaty that Godhood was just a cage that would kill him slowly, it's the final boss music with the female voice belting "Hail, Marika the Eternal" - in the place where she had to wade through a sea of flesh and blood, her family included, to ascend to Godhood. it's finally understanding that to her, Eternity is to live for all her loved ones that have fallen down.

and somehow, it all comes back to this portrait at the base game, right at the Roundtable Hold, of a woman with permanently lowered eyes.

yeah i know after the DLC i've put on such a Messmer-style protective glasses for her, it shows very clearly in my art. now she could cry, looks sad, small smile, big smile, looks silly, looks cute, looks serious, her hair is pulled up in twenty different ways, she jokes and talks to animals and goes back to be just a simple young girl rolling around in the grass, blah blah... im drawing all these with eyes wide open. and i have no intention of stopping lol.

sometimes, things that already come alive will never go back to be a cardboard cutout anymore. if ppl don't like it, block me or whatever, in my space, i'll do that makes me happy. and im very glad that other ppl could find their own happiness and solace with my work too :) thank you for such a thoughtful and kind messages!

[pinetreeshack]

My apologies for likely spamming your notifications, but your art style is so amazing I eat it up EVERY time!!

May I ask how you came to creating such a style with Fiddleford and Stanford?

You fluctuate between styles with them, and I find it fascinating how you can still weave in your own touch without altering too much of the original style (at times). You also have the ability to draw them in your own style with their specific attributes to show you have a deeper understanding to what makes these characters, well, them.

I apologize if not I’m wording this all coherently, so in short: how you draw is so unique I love it so much!! How did you figure it out? Any tips on incorporating your style with the style of a show?

Thank you for your time and your whimsical & inspiring art!

hello!! first of all i want to thank you for you astonishingly kind words, reading this after waking up this morning was a nice treat! (and I would also like to apologize for how long this reply is going to be lmao)

the first thing that comes to mind when I talk about my art style is what art program im using. across my account i've used at least 4 different drawing programs to draw various drawings, all which produced different results. i do this because its very easy for me to fall into boredom with one drawing program.

i think this is where the variation in my styles come from (based on what brushes im using at the time) and what style is just easier to replicate with those brushes!

with fire alpaca, its easier for me to draw in the "gravity falls" style people see here because the art style is already critically laid out for me, all i have to do is follow it. when i want something more complex and realistic (that i have to draw from my brain), i switch to clip studio paint.

when i first started drawing them i was very scared to draw their prominent features as prominent as they were because i felt my style didnt fit it. so i made my style fit. i took their core design elements (their big noses, different face shapes, and hair shapes) and used that as starting grounds for building my style around them.

when i draw fiddleford, i almost ALWAYS start with his nose. when i draw ford, i almost ALWAYS start with his chin. heres a very quick visualization

a tip i have for trying to incorporate your style with that of a shows is to try and draw in the shows style first. that way, you can get in some muscle memory on what base shapes these characters follow. once you figure out that fiddleford has a very round peanut shaped head with little to no chin and hair larger than his nose, and that ford is a square with a muppet-like face and sideburns, you can replace these key attributes with the ones that follow your own style.

tldr; basically, have fun with it!! the more you draw them, the more your style will change around them!!

[adrian-sheppy]

Sorry if this is completely wrong igore if it is LMAO but I noticed you seem to have different hcs for how mind lost his eye!!! Like in Seattles Going Under it was lost in a vague fight or something, but in art w/ the resonance cascade he lost it prolly during the ambush? I was wondering if you had info to share on it/infodump abt or if its just whatever makes the art more fun!

hehe youre observant and actually right on the money. yup!  so essentially i just have different eye trauma head canons for whichever version of freemind im drawing; since he doesnt actually lose his eye in canon, its up to everyone to fil in the blanks if they wanna use the popular headcanon. i wrote .  a good chunk of stuff .  so i put it under the cut . but heres a picture to be like a . tldr

I sorta like his eye already being gone before the resonance cascade (in a non-freemanverse scenario). he does verbally say something like "my eyes" in the series, indicating he has two, BUT . well.  its a headcanon. so we can have fun with it . my eye loss pre-rescas freemind stems from my original freemind design (before i ever started posting half-life on the internet) where he had short hair, but i needed a way to distinguish him from og gordon, so I used thr popular one eye headcanon. then I realized him losing his eye bc of the military goes perfectly with martini losing an arm. that bothered me for a while until i realized i could just have multiple freemind designs + headcanons. if theres different variations of Gordon  and martini, why can't there be some of Freemind as well? grins grins

i left it open ended in my SGU because people have their own headcanons and I thought anyone could just fill in their own. if I did every make a canon eyeloss event prequel thing, he would've lost his eye during college in some sort of either freak accident (like tripping on something and injuring himself bad; I like this one because he'll lie and say he was in a fight) or, like u said, a fight . for SGU, college was a low point in his life of him struggling with freedom from his parents for the firsr time, but them and their ideals still holding him hostage. he is simultaneously more repressed and more emotionally volatile than present!gordon. then, when his parents die, hes just given a clusterfuck of emotions. so why dont we add physical trauma? whatever the sgu canon event eye loss was, it was definitely related to substance abuse issues. whether that be he was high/drunk and got into an accident, or fought someone... not sure! yet. the only thing that i can say was that no fire or chemicals were involved, since his tearduct is (unfortunately for him) wholly in tact!

but for freemanverse!freemind, he should lose his eye during the rescas since its like thematic and stuff if (almost) every Gordon Loses Something. also, angst. whenever I draw freemanverse (even in a domestic setting) in my head, i always think of them surviving the rescas together! i have. convoluted freemanverse headcanons. the eye loss is an important freemanverae event because, like martini, it gives him a valid reason to REALLY dislike benrey (but in my au, benrey isnt the big bad, so he "redeems" himself kinda sorta) . and then it ALSO opens up freemind to be upset and vulnerable, which allows him to bond with his fellow freemen.

...

also I want barmey to tend to his wounds and call his scar(s) badass. im not immune to buttermind and i never was.

honorable mention: sims freemind, who has both eyes physically but only can see from one. this is due to me unable to properly texture a glasses + eyepatch combo, that and i have no experience with 3d modelling (I did try!).

i hope this is a satisfying enough infodump!! I'm sorry if it's a bit vague; a lot of my ideas tend to be fluid. i also like taking inspiration from what other people think! some of you guys are way super smart and have awesome ideas. i am not immune to well articulated essays and thought out headcanons

[resident-gay-bitch]

Hello there, I’m in genuine need of more fandom / online friends so like, if you also want more friends, here’s some info about me and maybe we can be friends? <3

My names Jay, I’ve recently picked it for myself (and then realised I could have possibly had an even cooler name Bo which is the shortened of my middle name and now im cursing myself for not realising it sooner and questioning weather or not to do a switch cause idk if Bo or Jay suits me better?!!). I’m 20 and FtM, and I go by he/they pronouns primarily but I also don’t mind if you use any others :)

I’m also Australian so yeah idk if that’s a selling point or not

Oh and I’m labelled as queer, I guess, but dude sexuality is confusing. I’ve recently been going down the aromantic / asexual spiral of questioning but I’m so unsure of everything I really suck at telling the difference between platonic and romantic feelings. I’m also somewhere in the sapphic spectrum I believe. So if you can relate to this mindfuck in any way that would also be rad.

I write fan fic for the Marauders Fandom (sirius is my everything and I’m also a tall sirius truther) and also Stranger Things but primarily Steddie for that tbh.

I’m also in the Good Omens fandom, as well as a few others more casually and don’t write fic for them :) recently I’ve been starting to watch JJK cause my best friend is really into it

My favorite two movies of all time are Rocky Horror Picture Show and Cars. That probably tells you a lot about me to be honest so do with that as you will :)

My favorite musicians are David Bowie at No. 1 (my lord and saviour), Maya Hawke, Hozier, Radiohead (im not a red flag I promise), Conan (I’m seeing him on fri wtf), ooo and I’ll add SOAD cause I’m really into them this month. But it’s ever changing really and there are too many to choose from, I’d say they’re my most listened to though :) I am chronically listening.

Uh I’m gonna spitball some more facts about me this is kinda hard:

I’m the eldest of 4 kids 💀 one of them is 5 years younger than me 💀💀 the other two are 6 years younger 💀💀💀 (I love them sm the annoying shitstarters)

I love to draw and make art but I suck at anatomy and colour theory it makes me want to rip my hair out (and I wanna be a fan artist so bad)

I’m attempting to learn bass but I also cannot commit to learning the bass (I blame my sibling for keeping it in their wardrobe so I forgoet it exists)

I am 90% sure I’m neurodivergent I just cannot really afford to get that diagnosis rn ya know?!

I did ballet & dance most of my life 🤯🤯 (now I’m a bartender and my old ballet teacher is a regular at the sailing club I work and now I look queer and cunty as hell and every time she sees me she just stares in disbelief and fake smiles it’s hilarious)

I still sleep with my childhood teddy :( I love her she is my one thing I would save in a fire. Her name is charlotte and she’s probably 3 years overdue for a bath but I love her

I’m fucking weird about stars - the shape not the astrology - like I love them. I see them and I get very excited and I draw them everywhere (you can probably tell off all my master lists, they all have stars drawn on the title strips 😭) I just really love them they’re so cute. I almost named myself Star actually

I’m a sagittarius. I don’t know what that means but I know it means a lot of things to people so hopefully it’s good things!

My favorite colour is green but more so earthy and cool greens. I love a good scrumptious yummy green, something mossy something sagey. I have a green wall in my room and it’s very nice to look at.

I lived abroad for a little bit as a teen in Vietnam which was amazing and I’m planning to move somewhere abroad again next year hopefully (seriously get me the hell out of SA)

My biggest dream / goal / career choice for most of my life was to be an actor but now I’m just kinda existing with no real drive or purpose in life. But I might pick acting back up now I’m becoming more comfy with myself and my gender :) my dream role is to play Frank from Rocky.

Uuuuuh that’s all I can think of :)

So yes, I hope I have appealed to your interests in one way or another. And if you’d maybe like to be friends please don’t hesitate to send me a message!

Maybe tell me a cool fact about yourself?

Or if you’re too shy to message first you could just add a random comment here or say something in the tags? I’ll message you! <3

Also if you have anymore questions I am trying to be a bit more of an open book, I love when people dive in with the nitty gritty so if you have strange questions I’ll probably be very excited to answer them lmao

Anyway, I hope you have a lovely day random people in my phone I hope to befriend <333

[hidingoutbackstage]

so im coming to you, the leading scientist in ashley graham-ology, to say you are SO right. there is literally no difference between ashley in the original and the remakes. they didn't make improve on her characterization, they just gave her scenes that endear her to the player, and even though they're very sweet moments... they don't give us anything new? i mean, it's nice for her to have moments where she can express her feelings, i mean she's been kidnapped and taken to a foreign village so thats going to be at the forefront of her mind, but we get nothing deeper about her. frankly, we get more new characterization from the sorority sticker on her phone and her casual outfit than we do in most of the new scenes. everyone else gets retooled stories, and she is very much the same. and, imo, at best she is a slightly more polished version of her old self (which is not saying much because she was never given a lot to begin with), and at worst she feels like she falls into only being important when it comes to leons development. anyways srry 4 rambling but yes! I agree with you!

You’re right in every way ugh I hate it so much. Like they COULD have expanded upon her in a way that both fit the context and the narrative while still making her a more fleshed out character. Luis got a whole ass backstory and people keep drawing cutesy art of him with his old team of Umbrella researchers who we never knew and don’t matter, but people only talk about Ashley in the context of Leon.

And the problem is that the game does this too! It isn’t just fandom misogyny this time (though that’s obviously at play sometimes) but everything Ashley does is just her being a victim, or relating her to Leon. Even the funny and cute stuff brought over from the og doesn’t get to be about her! Ashley operating the wrecking ball is a setup for Leon to comment on “what they’re teaching kids these days” when in the og it’s unexplained and that kinda implies it’s just something she knows how to do. And it’s funny without context, but in the game the context they give just makes her look stupid for comparing it to driver’s ed.

She helps put out the fire on Leon after his fight with Mendez. See? She’s helpful now! She tries to hit Leon with a candelabra when he shows up instead of cowering in terror like in the og. See? She’s #girlboss now! She doesn’t flirt with him or call him a pervert for acting like a pervert. See? She’s mature now! She says “We can protect the U.S. from all threats!” See? She’s patriotic now! She’s mind controlled and holds a knife up to her throat instead of panicking and running in fear. See? She’s less of a crybaby now! She gets one (1) good outfit (that only came with preordered games) See? She has personality now! (except it’s entirely cosmetic and has no effect on how she is in game) She now has a slimmer face, blue eyes, obvious makeup on, and her hair covers her “dumbo ears.” See? She’s attractive now!

But she doesn’t get a motherfucking personality, when she’s the ONLY character who didn’t get one. Luis gets more backstory, Krauser gets more (incorrect/conflicting) backstory, motherfucking SALAZAR gets more backstory. But not Ashley! Not the g-d damn, entire focal point and center of the entire game, not the main female character, she gets g-d damn nothing!

Here, off the top of my head, here’s little bits of dialogue that could deepen her character yet still fit in the game

A: I can’t wait to see my dad again. I miss him so much.

L: You two close?

A: Yeah. He’s a great dad. He had to be, we’re the only family each other’s got

L: I promise I’ll get you home safe, Ashley.

or, alternatively

A: I’m so nervous to see my dad again. I hope he isn’t mad about the kidnapping

L: Mad? It’s not your fault

A: I know, but…it feels like it is. It feels like I did something wrong. I shouldn’t have been caught.

L: It isn’t your fault, Ashley, and I’m sure your dad won’t be upset. He’ll be happy to see you

A: I hope so

or, again alternatively

A: So, how’d you become an agent anyway? My bodyguards, [name and name] say you’re the best in the business.

L: It’s a long story

A: Tell me when we get back, then?

L: Sure. It’s not very fun, though

A: What’s that supposed to mean?

L: Nothing, don’t worry about it…let’s just say, it involves someone you remind me of

(there so all the fangirls can cry about how emo Leon is while Ashley gets confirmed to have relationships)

or,

A: I can’t believe I went to that party. I didn’t even want to go.

L: Why’d you go, then?

A: My sorority sisters told me to come. I wasn’t gonna turn them down.

L: They good friends?

A: Not really. More like colleagues, I guess

or,

L: They took your jacket

A: Yeah. They can keep it, honestly. I never liked that thing

L: Why wear it, then?

A: Dad says it looks good for public appearances

See? Would it have been that hard?

[vincess-princess]

The Weavers

made a moodboard to put in the header until i finish the art im currently drawing <3

Chapter 1

Ch. 2

Word count: 2126

One cage replaced another, but at least he could stretch his legs and arms in this one. There was even a wooden bunk there, providing some refuge from the cold emanating from the stone. On the other hand, now he couldn’t see anything but stone walls, and the only barred window was so up high he could never hope to reach it even if his legs were still working. He detested being confined to a small stone box, constantly feeling like the walls closed in on him, crushed his chest, making him suffocate and scratch his skin till he drew blood. When the sun shone into his window, he would drag his body to the sunny spot on the floor and curl up there, catching the rays of warmth on his skin like a man dying of thirst would catch drops of water.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed since he was thrown in here. He could no longer keep track of the changes of the day. He noticed humans walked past his cell at similar intervals, their heavy boots booming against the stone floor. Every time they neared his cell the speed of their steps picked up. It brought him a hint of satisfaction. Even at this pathetic state they were still afraid of him. He couldn’t do anything to them, not like he could before, without the burning bracelets on his wrists, but they didn’t know that.

Pathetic, useless, worthless, degraded. His life was worse than his death could ever be. Yet the days came and went, and he still couldn’t get what he wanted. It even became somewhat funny. He was such a failure he failed to die. Truly an achievement. Fortunately, none of his kin lived to see that.

One time, when the rays of sunshine on the floor were slowly turning red, loud voices from the corridor awoke him. Humans patrolling the corridors didn’t usually talk, just breathed heavily in their metal head coverings. These two- three? no, two – talked out loud, and very emotionally at that. Once voice was raspy, like its owner’s throat had been cracked and mended, speaking in hurried whispers. The other was ringing, clear, replying in a laconic yet authoritative manner, cutting short every sentence the first one began. For some reason, some sicklish gut feeling, he didn’t want these two to reach his cage, to look at him with their round-pupiled eyes, eyes of a daytime predator – which they were, in a way. Humans’ looks felt like bugs crawling on his skin; only when he wanted to smack them, there never were any. Neiro remained silent all that time since the flash, but he still tugged the string, begging for these two to pass by his cage and not stop. But Neiro, of course, didn’t hear him.

His eyes caught a glimpse of fire reflecting off slimy walls of the corridor. Voices grew louder, steps slower. He pulled himself up on his arms, crawled away from the bars and leaned against the farthest wall – if he had to face them, he would not do that from the floor.

They showed up from behind a wall, and his stomach tied into a knot. One of them was a human that caused the flash, the presence in his Neiro. The other was a thin, white-haired human of a darker complexion, bent with age. Dark-brown hands flailed helplessly around the other one, as if they wanted to touch but couldn’t. The human in a red tunic – it had a different pattern today – didn’t seem to notice the old human’s efforts in any way and strode forward confidently. He could hear their breath, though, and it was fast and shallow. Scared, he smiled. You can fool your companion, but not me.

They stopped talking when they noticed him watch them. The darker human shuddered visibly and pulled the human in red by the arm away from his cage. The human in red didn’t budge, just shook callous, trembling fingers off. Their eyes locked again.

It was less intense this time – no flash - but the feeling was there, the presence of another mind in his own head. It resembled somewhat the thread-pulling he did with his kin, but closer, more personal, more intimate, like the thread was so sensitive a mere directionless thought could trigger it. Like someone was peeping inside his own mind and fumbling in there, trying to catch his thoughts and feelings like fish in a creak.

Humans didn’t have access to Neiro. But there were no more alves around, and this didn’t feel like typical thread-pulling. More like a forceful invasion... very typical for humans.

The red-clothed human stopped dead in his tracks, their eyes widening and breath quickening. Were they feeling something too?

The human rubbed their temples, their brows curving, looking completely confused. The alv wasn’t sure if human and alvish emotions matched, but he could still tell.

Then the human raised their head abruptly, narrowing their eyes, and a wave of resentment washed over the alv, resentment that wasn’t his.

Then the human reached for his weapon.

***

Stormwell stepped into the dungeon behind Stern and carefully closed the creaking door. As the servant promised, the guards were absent, although a moshu stick in an ashtray on the table was still smoldering. They would be back soon. There was little time.

Stern took a torch off the closest bracket and turned to Stormwell. The light of the fire danced in his milky eyes, cast a grotesque shadow over his features.

“Are you sure, master Storm?” he whispered, looking around hastily. “His High Honor wouldn’t like you to be here.”

“His High Honor won’t be disappointed if he never learns about it.” Stormwell pushed past Stern into a narrow corridor, a cold stone wall by his left side, a row of cells by his right. The air smelled of rusty metal and torch smoke. “And he won’t, right, Stern?”

“Of course, master Storm,” Stern bowed his head with a sigh. “Then we shall hurry. We’ve only got a few dectas[1] before the new shift arrives.”

“It’s enough.” Not looking back, Stormwell set off into the darkness of the corridor. He didn’t really need the torch light – it was distracting him even. But others didn’t fare so well in the dark, especially old man Stern. He could hear his heavy, whistling breath behind his back – he struggled to keep up with Stormwell’s pace.

Stormwell didn’t slow down. Stern did his job already, nothing bad would happen if he fell back a little. It was even better, in a way. He didn’t want anyone to interfere.

“Master Storm! I can’t keep up with you!” he heard Stern’s voice. Just once in his life could people leave him alone when he wanted them to?

“You don’t have to!” he said, irritated. He knew the old man would rather fall dead than lose sight of his fosterling – and Stormwell couldn’t suppress a wish for him to opt for the former.

But Stern was the only one in court who never recoiled from him. As annoying as he was, he was also devoted, and that was rather scarce for Stormwell.

Stormwell slowed his pace. When he felt the heat of the torch, he turned to face Stern.

“If we don’t get there in time because of you…” his threat trailed off. He knew very well it wouldn’t be Stern who’d be questioned and pestered endlessly over this. “And I don’t want you to get in my way when we get there. Stay back, I’ll handle it myself.”

“Handle what, master? You never told me what you want to do with the creature.”

“I-“ Stormwell himself didn’t know exactly why he was going down here. The creature was about to die anyway, if not from starvation (it almost doesn’t eat, he was told) then from the surgeon’s blade. It was rare to encounter an alv in the mountains, and they needed to learn everything they could about their capabilities while they have a living specimen.

For some reason, he wanted to look at it before the experiments took place. “I have some ideas.”

“It’s not going to be anything dangerous, is it?” Stern clarified carefully. Stormwell could understand his worry, but his growing irritation prevented him from sympathizing with it.

“Whatever I do, it’s none of your business. I can handle everything myself. Do you doubt me?”

“No, of course not! It’s just that His High Honor-“

“Shh.” Stormwell raised his hand, silencing Stern. Distant anticipation stirred inside his stomach. They were approaching the right cell.

“Stay back. I’ll handle everything myself,” he said again, wrapping his palm around the hilt of his sword.

Stern gulped audibly. Stormwell could almost see his worry for his master battling with his innate fear of alves. He had come from the lands where they were plenty, killing travelers and wreaking havoc in settlements that had set down too close to their territories.

Maybe he should fear too - but all he felt was curiosity. Maybe some faint uneasiness. Maybe.

He grabbed the torch from Stern and stepped forward. He knew the right cell even before he looked inside it – a strange anticipation spiked in his chest, making his heart race.

The creature was half-lying, half-leaning against the farther wall, the flame of the torch reflecting in yellow, cat-pupiled eyes, casting a shadow over thin, sharp features. Charcoal hair, thick and straight, was weaved into a complex braid that hadn’t lost its tightness even now, curled like a snake on the knees of the alv. Black lines formed intricate patterns on the skin of dark, rich green color. It reminded Stormwell of skin drawings he saw on some travelers – but the alv was covered in them head to toe, and there was no discernible meaning to them. For a second he was bewitched by these intricate cobwebs, but then shook himself out of it. It was trying to enchant him. These creatures, he heard, could kill a man with just a glance.

That very moment the yellow eyes opened wide, and the alv’s gaze met Stormwell’s. Shivers went down his spine, even though nothing particular happened – he wasn’t dropping dead, or even getting mind-controlled, and the strange flash in the circus tent didn’t come back. He was just tired… overwhelmingly tired and disenchanted, and the feeling grew and grew, and the ground felt wonky under his feet. But he wasn’t tired just a decta ago. Where’d this come from?

“Master Storm?” he heard Stern’s worried voice, pulling him out of his trance. “Master Storm!”

“Huh?” He turned back to Stern, and the feeling started to slowly fade away. “What?”

“Are you alright? You’re pale as Astor!”

Stormwell rubbed his eyes. He’d never felt so tired. He wasn’t even aware his body was capable of feeling this way – a young, strong, lithe body of a fifteen-year-old should never know such fatigue.

“I’m… alright,” he said slowly. “Just a bit dizzy. Haven’t had lunch.” It was a lie, obviously, but he didn’t want Stern to panic. They still had to get back somehow.

“Master Storm, but what if it’s the alv-“

“It’s not,” Stormwell interrupted him angrily. “Do you think I can’t see the difference?”

“You can’t, master. These creatures will make you cut off your own hand with a smile on your face,” Stern suddenly said calmly, all panic gone from his voice. “We don’t have much time, master.”

“Yes, I understand. We’ll be moving in a moment,” Stormwell murmured and turned back to the cell.

The alv was smiling. He swore to Decantah, the alf was smiling, with slightly pointy teeth, unnaturally white even in dim light of the torch. The yellow eyes focused right on Stormwell, and he realized – the creature was laughing at him.

He gripped the hilt of his sword so tight his knuckles went white. A crack crept across the torch in his other hand, deceptively slowly, until, with a loud crack, the stave fell apart. The flame went out.

Damn it. He could manage well without light, but Stern, already half-blind, would definitely break a leg, if not his neck.

“Master Storm?! What did it-”

“Shh, shh. I did it. I’m sorry.”

“You? Why?”

“You talk like I control it,” Stormwell grumbled.

“I can’t see a thing,” Stern said piteously.

“I will lead you. Take my hand.”

His hand found Stern’s, wrinkly, dry and warm. Light was coming from afar, but no torches were lit in this section of the corridor. If they wanted to impede an alv with this, Stormwell thought with sudden derision, then they only made patrolling harder for themselves. He- it didn’t need light to see them well.

[1] 1 decta ~ 6 minutes

[longhands-the-second]

Trimax vol. 3 notes

UGH UGH UGH

This cover is so sexy. The colors make my brain go brrr

I read and typed this the night before, oops. I needed something to make me less bored and sad and by god I got it. (<- has so much homework he doesn’t even want to look at it)

1- Based on what i’ve seen of future installments there’s a trend in the particular kind of body horror nightow likes to draw huh

The color of blood? Literally blood? I wasn’t sure if he was actually crying blood in the previous volume or not or if the tears were just darker bc art shit. I think his vibes are like that of a bird of prey. If that’s what we’re getting at here? (At least this version of him is. Stampede is a different beast. Somehow both cuttlefish and like, crow? I’m still yelling about the stampede finale-)

Does having high bullshit tolerance make you less human somehow…? What’s the logic here?

Is wolfwood saying that to him directly? Fucked up if so. He does NOT need more piled on him right now

2- im just flashing back to 98 wolfwood saying he’s never fired a gun before-

Does gray have the same sort of top that Vash had? The almost-tubing on the sides? Or is that just a favorite design thing?

That was pretty much all just fight scene huh.

3- EW EW EW

god, it’s only just now hitting that these are the faces of people he knew. People he cared about. Christ.

:( i want to get off of mr bones wild ride

I’m not like. Gagging or anything i just hate it.

The thing about Vash being quiet angry is that it’s almost got this elegance to it. Like his mind has left his body and he’s just running on his experience and skill now. He’s pissed and he’s dissociating. I feel like the whole room gets icy when he’s like that, even if you’re outside in the suns.

NO OH NO GOD-

FUCK I KNEW THAT WAS GONNA HAPPEN AND I STILL WASNT READY

4- does. Does he know him???

Oh hell.

He set off the sprinklers???

WET HAIR VASH

5- brad is much more of a character than i was expecting.

God i can just hear wolfwood in that moment

Well. Yikes.

HAHAHSJSJJS milly jumpscare

6- what the fuck that piano is so cool

Seeing vash with both arms feels illegal somehow

Or no, does it have some kind of cover on it? Or is that what it looks like below those gloves?

He is SOOOO not okay right now

Woah damn is that what luida looks like here?

Im sure he’s just beyond relieved to see people lived.

Oh wow. Im… proud of him for admitting it? Something like that? God he looks so tired

“Woah vash you’re fucking ancient aren’t you???”

7- he is a solid 70% leg. Good for him.

He looks so normal it’s very strange.

True immortality???? Maybe that’s why knives is baby smooth every time we’ve seen him. (Ick.) (there’s some part of me that wants so badly to like knives on the grounds that I understand where he’s coming from but he’s literally the fucking worst.)

There goes his arm. Again. Why is it always that one?

He genuinely reads like a different person with his hair down. Maybe that’s just me.

Did. Did nightow give mike mignola a copy of trigun. Better yet did he read it? We’re asking the real questions here.

(I made a poll for Vash’s vibes and the results are mostly exactly what I expected? Will post my findings. Manga Vash has the most variety so far.)

((Will I be able to do anything cool for Vash’s birthday? Who knows. Crossing my fingers I can hold it together that long, I am SO done with my summer classes and I wanna go home.))

(((I have had the worst stampede brainrot recently. It’s the purple color scheme and the flowers and the everything at the end. It fuckin EATS. I want to hold him gently.)))

[desultory-novice]

Is it weird how most of my OC’s are villains/antagonists?

And most aren’t even puff balls or already known species but I just go wild, that’s because I’m trying to follow the way kirby games create characters by trying to be more and more creative while always trying to stay on familiar grounds.

Am I going too far? Am I still drawing Kirby characters?

I just don’t know if my designs are that good.

Im kinda saying this because I’ve seen several human OC designs and your “OC” (between “” since I don’t know if a pre transformation character can be called OC) Noir is one of the few human designs I actually think fit into Kirby and is overall one of the best designs I’ve seen without being too different and without being too similar, and I just wanna give tell you “well done”, do you have any advice on how to do that?

First off, you'll never ever hear "Oh, that's weird!" from me about designing antagonists! I think it's great! Everything from the complex emotions that led them to oppose our heroes (betrayal, vengeance, greed, hatred, jealousy, etc etc) to just having cool power sets you can go all out on from the beginning, they've got to be some of the most fun you can have designing characters!

It's definitely tricky to create something new that has the potential to fit in a work without it being a take off of something already in the work. I think part of the reason a lot of OC creators stick with puffballs or some other recognizable form (Magolor-alikes, Elfilin-alikes) is that it gives you a sort of bonus modifier to recognizability? Once you've got that, you can move on to adding all the original details without having to surmount that hurdle of "Does this non-Kirby character still look like they could feasibly be in Kirby?"

Of course, there's nothing wrong with just throwing all that out the window and stylizing your design like whoa! Heck, some actual Kirby characters don't look much like Kirby characters. I think back to Dark Mind, who is awfully cool looking and going by his name really should look like the rest of the Dark Matters but theweird...fire/vein/wires look? Is he part-eyeball part-computer??

He looks more like a riff on a Kirby boss than a Kirby boss. (Which makes that thing in Amphibia - apologies, as I've never watched the show - that looks so much like Dark Mind kinda funny in retrospect because it's a clear Kirby reference, but it references the first Dark Matter-like being to look really different from all the other Dark Matters before him!)

Sometimes, you just have to stick with it! Designing OCs is fun, but I know that for me, the meat is in their story. Can I connect with them emotionally? (Villain or no.) If I can do that, then it doesn't matter to me too much what they look like!

Also, it's totally fine to call Noir an OC, lol! I think that about him myself sometimes. (Dess Secret: I've had to push myself to be courageous every time I post a new Apologies comic because a mean voice in the back of my head says "You know everyone's going to be mad you turned a fan favorite last boss into a sadboy!")

But thank you for saying that. As for tips, well...

One thing I did was I kinda cheated by taking recognizable elements (his scarf + turning his tan cape into a long winter coat) from the character he's based off of. The concept for his hair I also stole off of the settei sheet while focusing on making it look somewhat flame like, so it matched DMS's dark flame hair.

But you can do this kind of "element borrowing" even if you're not making a character who is part of a known species! On that note, I guess that's the other thing I did for him was give him very "Adeleine-like" proportions. I mentioned this vaguely in the lightning round post that it's easier to draw for Apologies than it is to draw for MariPav because I try to keep Gijinka Marx and Magolor as approx. 7-8 heads tall humanoids with reasonable proportions.

In game Adeleine's got a big plate face with wide cartoon eyes and these kinda stick limbs. So, by drawing Noir a little taller, with slightly sharper features, and eyes that have a distinct "shape" to them (Rhombus? Is that the word?) but still those spaghetti limbs and almost child-like hands, he manages to look not too out of place standing alongside Adeleine.

Speaking of Adeleine's design, this last tip is not a solid rule, but simplicity is a great place to start when designing characters! When you mess around with both sprite art and chibi art, you learn quickly that little details (jewelry, markings, filigree, iris patterns, dozens of other things that may FEEL important) aren't going to make it into the finished piece. So choose a few bold things (and bold colors to go with them) that you can count on are always going to show.

To dip into some actual Kirby villains...

I think Nightmare's helmet is... a bit of a mess and I hate hate hate it and hate drawing it (what even is with those...antenna like horns?!) but the distinctive pointed witchy nose he's got and the dramatic chin, plus a body wrapped in a cape that looks like a tornado?! (Natural disasters are SCARY!) Those are all good, clearly visible design elements that say this guy is bad news!

(I refuse to listen to the haters. Nightmare is a good boss!)

One of the things that makes Zero 2 such a compelling boss visually is, of all things, the freakin' band-aid on his head, which is in complete contrast to his surreal, angelic design. But that's what makes it so effective! It doesn't seem to belong. "Wait, bosses can't take boo boos!" but because it's so distracting it draws your eye and your mind begins to think "...Is that to cover the spot where Zero broke out of last time we fought?" People make fun of bosses having "magical weak spots" but they're visually very interesting!

(Of course, it's actually the thorn that's the weak spot...)

Even rounder, friendlier bosses like King Dedede stick to having a few visually striking elements. Design-wise, he's a combination of a penguin (who is blue and yellow, because those colors stand out more than black + white) and a medieval Japanese daimyo. But he wasn't given a kimono until Smash Bros, which is fine as there would be no way to visually show that off till 3D graphics got as good as they did. So what they did give him a big round Japanese obi, which you'll always be able to see on him as well continuing the theme of the three primary colors (red, yellow, blue) on him and keeps his round belly from being entirely monochromatic!

Crowned Magolor/Magolor Soul, one of my favorite boss designs, is interesting because the more details the crown picks up (again, the design informs the character, as it twists around like roots and grows in some plant-like thorns, and this is before we saw it become a tree!) the less detailed Magolor becomes. This is so you don't have too much detail conflicting with each other. Your eye isn't too busy trying to "read" both Magolor and the Crown. And when you remove the crown, Magolor's basically a bouncy ball with a face! But he only needs to be a face because the empty eyes are the element they wanted to highlight, in this case showing his powerlessness.

So, to summarize...

Pick a few colors (remember to work some contrast in there! If you've got a lot of dark, scary colors, try adding something colorful and saturated to throw the viewer off. They can still contribute to the creepiness, even if they're not normally bad guy colors. The haunting orange glow of a jack-o-lantern. A bright, toxic-looking science-green! The purple of the sky as the sun sets and night is upon you...) Pick a few design elements to focus on (Large ones too! You should be able to see the most important parts of your character, even if you shrink them down super small!) and well, uh, I accidentally got ahead of myself. I think this step comes first but also, look to the forms of other Kirby characters, even if you're not making something that's a specific call back to them! Don't take their design, but take their shape. Or parts of their shape. In the sprite art community, we have something called "franken-spriting" where you cut out parts of various sprites you like or want to borrow from and then merge them together or redraw over what you've pieced together.

Finally, don't just show us what they look like: make us understand something about them. Back to Noir ever so briefly - I think that what made him effective as a character is that first time I actually drew him (outside of the sketch in Adeleine's notebook) I'd already informed people who he was and what his fate would be. He wasn't just some drawing of a moody teen with an ugly scarf.

He was an unavoidable tragedy waiting to happen.

(That said, you might not want to tell us all the good stuff in one go. Drop some tantalizing details, not every twist and turn up to the denouement! Something I was always told is "less is more!")

Tell us what to sympathize with, love, or fear about your OCs. The things that make them human - yes, even the eldritch monsters!!! - and hopefully your art will both energize other people and...yourself!

Most importantly, keep at it!

[deathclassic]

i was tagged by @you-are-so-much-better-than-that​​ and @mikhailoisbaby​​ to do this fic writer/artist tag! ive never seen an artist version of this so this is exciting :D

1. Do you post on Ao3? If so, how many works do you have on AO3? If not, where do you post?

i dont post art on ao3 but i post fics there,,,,not gonna say my username though

2. What is your total art count?

we gotta be like 500+ by now

3. What are your top 5 pieces by likes/kudos?

they’re all dan and phil surprise surprise i was surprised that the first one has 12k notes for some reason. im just going to link them

spooky week sketches  amazingphil shop spon PHIL QUIFF DEBUT!!! black ‘n’ white dan phil is not on fire collection

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i try to but sometimes i forget and i also dont have notifcations on any social media turned on so i miss a lot of things

5. What is your current fandom, and what was the first fandom you drew for?

currently drawing for umbrella academy, shameless and stranger things. first fandom i properly drew for was one direction but i was drawing stuff for like panic at the disco and powerpuff girls and my little pony and my chemical romance when i was like 7

6. Have you ever received hate on any art?

tonnes lol, i’d say every 2-3 pieces i draw gets some kind of negative attention. recently there’s been an asshole in my asks accusing me of fetishising ian and mickey so thats something to look forward to every time i pose 

7. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t drawn for yet but want to?

i want to go back to shows i watched as a kid like total drama island and draw the characters in my art style, i did it with the winx club earlier this year and it was fun. i want to draw harringrove but im not mentally prepared to be like,,,sent death threats atm

8. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

i dont know tbh ian and mickey are up there i guess

9. Do you draw outside of fandom?

yeah im a graphic designer so i draw a lot of shit 

10. What’s the an art piece you’ve drawn that came out completely differently than you expected?

this one actually

11. Do you draw smut?

sometimes

12. Have you ever had any of your art stolen or copied?

yeah of course, someone sells my shit on redbubble and i have to keep reporting them

13. Have you ever collaborated on a piece?

yes! @mishervellous​ and i did that amazing comic together for gallacrafts and im so proud of that! also collaborated with a lot of dan and phil artists to make a calendar, a phil is not on fire poster and some general collabs for fun (if anyone wants to collab hmu bc im down)

14. What’s an idea you have that you have yet to draw?

i really want to draw drummer mickey for some reason

15. What are your drawing strengths?

people i guess, maybe like details on clothes and stuff?

16. What are your drawing weaknesses?

hands and feet lol

17. What’s your favorite art piece you’ve drawn?

im so proud of this drawing even though no one really liked it, like looking at it makes me so happy

18. What is one thing you’d like to tell people about your art that they might not know?

like harvey said haha i also use the same colour palette especially skin tones and hair colours also i sketch a lot of the drawings traditionally and then trace over it on photoshop

19. What inspires or motivates you to create for fandom?

myself. i would still be drawing even if no one notices it. heck i draw so much stranger things stuff only for a top of 10 people across instagram, twitter and tumblr to interact with it. 

20. And finally, can you describe your process a little? Do you have a favourite place to draw? Do you play something in the background? Do you do research or just go for it? Give us a little insight

i sit at my desk and use a wacom tablet and my laptop. I have my other laptop open and im normally listening to a tv show that ive seen so i dont have to pay attention or a play through of a game or some creepy stories. sometimes i listen to music on my record player. i always spend ages looking at pose references and rage quitting when i dont draw it right the first time before coming back to it a few hours later. i draw mostly in the evenings, after dinner. sometimes i drink a hot chocolate if its late enough lol. 

im gonna tag @mishervellous​ @doodlevich​ @heymrspatel​ @adakechi​ 

[outcasting101]

100 Mob Psycho x Jujutsu Kaisen

Im a big fan of both anime, I have an idea that I think make a good fanfic about Reigen Sensei isn't what he seem, a former of Jujutsu Sorcerer he carry that skill in world of Mob Psycho which explain his 'luck' surviving with his 'psychic', he may not have all the brain but he have the brawn. His not stupid, it just how he is, he long lost to care what other thinks

Reigen sensei isn't technically lying when he said he can't see ghost and ghoul. However he does have experince facing off a curse, same difference. He came from one a outcast clan - the moon of the three major Jujutsu Clan.

He came off a outcast ever since his birth, both of his parent were a star show for the family. A salvation in hope to be accepted back, but ever since his birth consider 'curse' itself, without hesitation both of his parent went away embracing the normally the best they could.

Reigen at least based on his childhood have always been trained, preparing for what he didnt know...til he was given a particular glases just to his liking. His first interaction was curse comes a shock he stumble falling on his butt, eye widened at the sight with fascination and weary. He never really sure his parent mission was real but here it is just through this glases.

He was ecstatic, who couldn't he can be a hero just like his admirable parent. Years after years training, he exceed every training - speed, agility, perception.

His childhood was estranged especially wearing the glasses despite his parent protest wanting their son to at least have childhood within ignorance of the horror surround humanity shadow. Being outcast was never as bad as he thought, sure kid was scared and times were called by their teacher due to his horrifying doodle. They misunderstood, Reigen did exactly what thye told how they individual see the world. Can't an artist draw?

Growing into his adolscent, the worst experince was seeing his father stumbling bloodied on his side of stomach, his mom in hand holding his shoulder rushing to get into the car to...hearing it right Jujutsu Kaisen.

Maybe it was adrenaline but his parent didnt protest, even look scared for him to be left alone. Reigen expeirnce with blood was natural but this was real - his father is dying. This enfueles his mission to become a Jujutsu Soccerer.

Sneaking off exploring, isolated meeting with a white heard dude, they could get along; and a blond hair who loves bread and money, Reigen can relate. He barge within principal office begged him to allow him enrolled in this amazing school. If he couldn't get within normal school, magic school, should be better, right?

Facing off that stupid green bear, he did it batter and bruises he still hold on...

"I get to see, something, something no one else can't see. Why should I unsee it, when it call seem to fun, so new"

"So your reason just to fill in your fantasy"

"I mean, is there any more reason I should know" Both hand on hips, with his eye serious toward the principle. His face scrowl slightly fire with determination.

"At least your honest" Sight the principle, standing up smiling proudly. "Welcome to Jujutsu Highschool, this isn't everyday to get person with no curse acceoted within this school. We can prepare you cursed weapon and glases-"

"No thanks, this is just fine" Clicking showed his steal thine glasses. Smiling proudly. "never go out without this"

"Your parent must raise you proudly of their heritage"

"haha you got it right Sensei, there is never a day without curse story on dinner plate. So where do I start"

"Heh, Welcome to hell kid, better get used to it". Voice have not change from his monotone introduction, weird way to joke.

"I was born ready"

He was successful, showing proudly of his steeled glasses up his eye, managing to the grumpy cat - Nanami butcher knife. Reigen chosen. He chosen knukle, both gold shine pride on the higest sun. Training was harsh but thanks to his parent, he was flying by the win.

That was until, a mission killed them, death was very common, every week, at least one...Reigen was fine, both side clunches but he was fine, he was completely.

Reigen

87% before murder rave.

Reigen was smart, he knew protest and action was in vain. At least - at least he can at least see the autopsy of his parent and find whatever curse they were battling.

At night sky show the moon in blue express it deapest adolences more than anyone Reigen associated with. His friend was busy set off with month mission, he can;t blame them with thier curse they are sure to overthrow him. He wasn't jelous, he knew the limitation he have wihout curse technique, at least he have some good muscle.

Better muscle and magic he always say.

While sliding within the higher house listening intensly at the group of senior bickering and debating... His parent, a set up, they THEY!

The taste of death was vague, never he have thought he would have life within his finger tips. The were tough, more would come. Reigen

Regein

REIGEN

REIGEN

Working within the Cooler company was something else, as he suspected - booring. He really really rather die, and that saying something considering where is is form. Where the victim is better of straight to death door than whatever meticulous action curse are capable of interfering human natural life.

Starting og a medium with his carefree attitude he learn to facade. better to seem dumb to get issue off than stand out and be the target of everyone pressure. Well choosing this job was as not exactly fun, at least he got payed. it not like he's hurting everyone, no one wanted a explanation they wanted superticion. An ignorant mind cannot be open unless one's allow it so.

So why not play by their rule, that until he met Mob. A good kid, good for exploiting too. Can you blame him quick money mean quick treat for both of them. Reigen gotten quite the bond, could even say teen sitter.

He met claw, he beat the shit out of them. he wasn't stupid he can feel the power flow surround him, knwoing Mob power it didn't surprise him.

Evil again Evil, there he gamble his 'luck' and oblivious attitude to go within life until the day he die.

Plus, that red guy bought him a guy another cowoker to work with, with Mob he is sure adulthood woudl be one hell of a crisis. He rather to have Mob to have a smooth transistion.

Teen stage is hard going to adulthood is another problem to solve.

He was satisfied, satisfied with his profound business family. He was glad he could say be can die from it -

On the break he encounter Jujutsu messenger requesting him to enroll in hope his school, to exercise curse - a real curse. Why angrily, he shaken from anger and even fear.

Both his past brought up during his mission, ignoring the stranger and worry stare from his found family. he rather not have them within his conflicted life.

"Sensei, who was that man"

"Si-sir wouldn't you rather talk about it with us, you know...you can trust us"

"What are you hiding dimwhip"

Reigen staring at his desk, his head support both hardm intertwine on his forhead. He was sweating his eye in motion coping his overflowing anger. Focusing his head up with his busines smile, so welcoming, so fake - having them give him peace; a little bit nontheless.

"Ah nothing, have a breack you thre. Pay here consider this a bonus from your hard work"

The bucket head kid, eye shown hiddenw orry despite his monoton voice. "But sensei you told us, we have alot of clie-

"Ah Ah, not to worry. With my amazing psychic, you all will be only in my way. Pushing them three off. He there stand alone, sunken feeling surround a room that seem to stretch endlessly. Reigen was shaking no longer can hold it anymore, he rather have it all taken to those monster instead. Vision transition to the blood splatters, yells and anger surround him. Reigen thrown himself at the sit, sighing he should be preparing right now.

He was prepare to go to Tokyo, what else do you think he was investing all the money. He knew no matter how much he run...he can at least leave a final paycheck for them all to continue to inherit his buisiness. they can get of hang of it Reigen thought, smiling sadly, he leaves a note, he reather not have sobbing goodbye, or even nevermind.

Nothing woudl matter once he step into the other world. What he didnt take account is the ammount of care his messy family may or may not track him down determine to not let hims get away his life scot free without a proper explanation even adopt into the new world of the Jujutsu Kaisen.

Look like this useless Sensei would have his follower face the danger by his side. he can finnaly be derseving of standing them on the frontgate of humanity shadow.

[thedegu]

old designs under the cut, and some aritist's commentary

so yeah quite a change, like I still kept some of the design parts that I liked but overhauled about everything else. I think I got her original design off of a tiefling generation table but it's been years now and I don't quite remember.

teeth/tusks she was actually an Oni tieflng so she had ice powers over fire and that's where she got the tusks from. though in some art I.... forget to add it.

horns: Her horns were originally green??? I do not remember why I chose this, but it looked bad even when I was first designing her I didn't really like it, and changing them to black was probably the best part of the design overall-- especially with her being dedicated to a death goddess. her current design's horns are what I wanted them to be originally but I could not figure out how to draw them when I first designed Hunt so they turned into idk, overstuffed crossont. in her original cannon (and every rendition after) she grew her horns like that to make herself look taller, but in her original design idk, they really don't lend towards that idea too much. now with the dramatically tall horns that line makes a lot more sense

Color palette: originally, she was red/blue color-coded, not a bad combination, but with the development of her story tieing her to @ijltln's Roosa, whose color themes were blue, white, and silver, I wanted to call back to that while still keeping it unique. The blue veil is a direct reference to Roosa, sampling her darker blue skin tone vs. Hunt's lighter/greener tone. Hunt's secondary colors of black and gold are also, while less direct references were chosen as complimenting colors to Roosa's scheme.

Armor/outfit: Hunt started out as a fighter (eldrich knight in the original game but changed into Rune Knight in future revisions), but this version of Hunt is a 20th level of the Knight, and as so, she would have devoted herself to the goddess Roosa becoming the first paladin of the death goddess. So I really wanted to lean into her being a knight, so full plate armor was not a choice. This was based on several different real-world suits of armor, and I tried to keep it grounded in stylization and ornamentation. Even though at the 20th level, Hunt, while she likes the nice things in life, is not a person to put aesthetics over utility.

Headdress: I did try a few different helmet designs, from masks to cowls but settled on the crown and veil. While not armor really, it feels more fitting for the character as a holy warrior to have something akin to real-world religious vestments and, again, the color choice tying her into the god she worships. I hemmed and hawed on the skull, though, but I did feel like I needed a centerpiece to the headdress. It feels a bit cliche but I couldn't think of anything better at the time of the design.

Sword: she originally used a longsword, but I changed it to a shortsword with a finger loop. To imply her overall personality. She can use the sword like a rapier if she so wishes, but in all reality, she is the hammer that strikes the nail. No ornamentation on the sword, just a good piece of steel that can do its job well. The pommel just continues the shape language set by the ornamentation in her armor and the shape of her horns without being ostentatious. Her off-hand is left free to use magic and sometimes hold a shield.

Tail: her tail was originally a wedge-shaped plane thing. and I changed it to be long and hairy. I just really enjoy drawing and rendering long hair, so its not more complicated than that lmao.

hair: I really liked the original design (one of my favorite aspects of it) so it's one of the few things that did not change at all besides which way it lays on her head lmao.

overall: I do still like the original design and how I made her, but now im mostly just glad that I did indeed go back an redsign her 4? 5??? 6??? years after her first conception. not only have I improved as an artist but her overall character concept has drastically changed; and giving myself the room to revamp her while keeping the aspects I liked in the original design has made this character even better in the end

New/updated design for an Old dnd PC Hunt. When I first designed her was A WHILE ago (I'll post some of the first drawings of her in the rbs), and I kept on finding when I'm drawing her nowadays, I didn't really like her design/my old refs were limiting. So kept everything I liked but ditched everything else. Also, she was only like level 3 within the campaign, and in my heart, she's level 20.

Also, her subclasses are rune knight / redemption. idk how it would play but its more for the ~flavor~ than anything

do not expect me to draw her armor this detailed ever again.

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Let Me Feel You For a While

Pairing - Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Warnings - 18+ NSFW SMUT DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR PLEASE!!! Breeding kink (im sorry), slight blood, marking/biting, accidental voyeurism? THIGH RIDING YES PLEASE, AND SHARP TEETH MAKE ME DROOL. Oh btw spoilers for the Farewell Archaic Lord I think? General spoiler warning for genshin.

Word Count - 1.7k.

 Other Comments - You guys have NO IDEA how much I love Zhongli oh my god I love him. I slept on him at first but ever since my eyes were opened I realized how wrong I was for that. Anyway enjoy!!

@sadpsychologist @barbqtos​

      Zhongli had money, he was just dumb and never brought it with him; too used to the routine of just making more Mora if he ever needed to buy anything while he was an Archon. This being said, that also meant he had one of the most elaborate bedrooms you’d ever laid eyes on. The room was filled with rich browns and shimmering golds, his bed sheets made from the finest silks. Archons never really slept, which meant the Zhongli had made this room as ethereal as possible just for you. 

     You were laying across the cold white gold sheets, hair clinging to your forehead from the sweat. Your fingers were dancing around your clit, rubbing harshly at times before dipping into your wet cunt and pumping them in and out roughly. You were so horny it was uncomfortable, and since you had gotten accustomed to your lover's large member, your fingers were doing much for you. You needed something better. You shakily stood from the bed, before kneeling down and pulling out the box and you guys only got into when the two of you were really in the mood. You quickly found what you were looking for, as it was the largest thing in the box. You pulled the dildo out of the box before quickly shoving the box back under your bed.

     Zhongli didn’t really like when you took matters into your own hands, as he wanted to always be the one thing that made you melt. He wanted to pleasure you in ways that you never would have imagined. At this point you were quickly pumping the dildo in and out of yourself, lost in the pleasure as you moaned out loudly. You weren’t worried about anyone hearing since you were alone in the house and Zhongli wasn’t going to be home for a while. You can imagine your shock and horror when you opened your eyes to see Zhongli standing in the doorway, dick already straining hard against the large man’s dress pants.

     “Ah you finally noticed my presence.” Your face was even redder when those words left his lips. How long had he been standing there watching you fuck yourself roughly with the large silicone tool. You let out a low whimper, beginning to pump the object in and out of yourself again, too worked up to be embarrassed. You heard Zhongli chuckle lightly before the loud sounds of his dress shoes against the hardwood floor could be heard. You felt Zhongli’s gloved hands halt your movements before brushing your hand away and pulling the dildo out, setting it aside for cleaning at a later time. Soft desperate whimpers falling from your mouth as your chest heaved up and down. Zhongli pressed soft kisses to your face, his gloved hands running up and down your naked body, brushing against your nipples causing you to jolt.

     “You’re so sensitive my dear.” Your hands were looking for purchase on any part of his body, finally landing on his strong biceps. You squeezed his arms hard, wiggling around and continuing to whimper.

     “Nothing feels as good as you Zhongli, please… please help me. Fill me Zhongli, stuff me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your lips swollen from chewing on them.

     “Well it looked like you were having a good time with the dildo sweetheart.” Warm embarrassment bloomed in your chest and you desperately tried to pull Zhongli down by his collar. Zhongli’s lips attacked your, passionately biting at yours, Zhongli’s sharp canines drawing blood before he swiped it away with a quick flick of his tongue.

     He continued this assault on your flesh as he went lower. He made sure to mark you anywhere that was visible, it made his pride swell when he saw you walking around Liyue trying and failing to cover up bitemarks and deep purple hickies. Zhongli pulled back to admire his work, before propping himself up on the edge of the bed. Strong arms manhandled you, forcing you to straddle his thigh. You blushed profusely when you realized what Zhongli wanted you to do.

     “But- but your pants Zhongli, I don’t want to ruin them…” A small smile and eyes filled with pure admiration poured into yours. He carded his fingers through your hair, pushing back any strays behind your ear in the process.

     “My dearest, you have always been so considerate, but for tonight don’t worry about anything, just do what comes natural to you. My clothes can be cleaned, and if not I will buy another pair.” Zhongli’s hands gripped your hips tightly, starting to move you back and forth on his thigh. You clit was ecstatic to finally be getting some friction, moans already being ripped from your throat. The ex archons dick was uncomfortably hard, outline clear as day from how hard it was straining against his slacks. Once you finally got yourself into a rhythm he let one of his hands fall from your hips, giving in and palming himself through the thick fabric.

     You moans began increasing in volume and frequency as you got closer and closer to the edge. You gripped onto Zhongli’s broad shoulders, your body quickly becoming tired. The man in front of you noticed this, letting his hand return to your hip as he helped steady your rhythm once again. Tears were threatening to fall from how good you felt, everything starting to become light and fuzzy as you continued to get closer to your climax.

     With a couple more rough thrust against his leg, the coil deep in your gut snapped, sending waves of please surging through your body. Your back arched hard before slumping into Zhongli’s chest. He kept your hips moving, letting your ride out your orgasm on his now soiled pants.

     “My love, do you still want me to fill you up?” Zhongli’s voice brought you back to reality, where you realized how hard he was. The thought of Zhongli filling you to the brim reignited the fire that was just extinguished in you. You nodded reverently before rolling off his thigh and onto your back, presenting yourself to him. A low groan sounded from Zhongli’s throat as you spread your leg wide, the site of you littered with markings making his brain go fuzzy; his only focus now on making you both feel good. You’ve never seen Zhongli rip off his close at such a speed before, until he was stark naked and crawling on top of you; caging your head with his arms.

      Once again Zhongli began to attack your neck, except not as rough, not wanting to cause more pain than pleasure. Without warning, he slammed his dick into you, since you had already worked yourself open for him. Despite this, your walls still clung tightly to him, his large cock dragging deliciously against your walls as he hit all the right places. Both of your were on cloud nine, as he ruthlessly pounded into your.

     Normally when the two of you had sex, right before Zhongli came he would pull out and cum onto your stomach which he of course would clean up later. Not for any particular reason as to why since you were on birth control, it had just become a habit. This time however you wanted to do things a little different. You were getting close, and you could tell he was as well, as his breathing became more uneven and more low pitched noises started coming from him. Your walls fluttered around his cock, causing him to shutter and let out a low grunt. Before it was too late, you tightly wrapped your arms around the ex Archons next, and pulled him down closer so your lips were mere centimeters away from his ear.

     “Cum in me Zhongli, stuff me with your cum. I want every drop of it please I wanna feel you inside me even after you pull out. Archons please please Zhongli let me feel you cum. Breed me.” Zhongli’s eyes widened, those words causing something to snap in him as he was hit with another wave of pleasure, his thrust still maintaining their power but becoming more erratic. You could feel Zhongli’s calloused fingers rubbing quickly against your clit, sending new waves of pleasure through you. The moans coming from the two of you were matched perfectly, as the two of you got closer and closer. With a couple of final thrusts, Zhongli sheathed himself in you as deep as he could go, cumming shooting deep into you. The feeling of his cum filling you up is what sent you over the edge, cumming for the second time; your mouth falling open to form a silent scream. You could feel Zhongli beginning to ooze out of you as he pulled out, which made you shiver.

     “Let’s get you cleaned up shall we darling?” Zhongli was still a little out of breath as he stood from his position on top of you, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed a hold of him, before catching him off guard and pulling him back down.

     “Let me stay full for a little while longer.” Sleep was slowly starting to take over, as your eyelids couldn’t stay open. Your words went straight to Zhongli’s dick, but that was an issue he would take care of himself. For right now, he just pulled you into his chest, allowing you to drift off into blissful slumber.

[imaginewithtearose]

Hi! ア(￣▽￣;)ア

Can i ask for relationship headcanons for Idia and an extroverted s/o?

Hello! Thank you for being my first request, of course :) and sorry for bad english and long headcanon-

Idia Shroud with an extroverted gender neutral s/o

Ok, first of all, NO ONE KNOW HOW YOU TWO STARTED A RELATIONSHIP, IT JUST-- Sorta happened?

You of course were the one searching for Idia everywhere, asking things to his tablet, or searching in Ignyhide for his presence. Hoping to see him outside.

One way or another, you two became friends. After you two bump into each other after class. Well, he was being forced to go to eat with Kalim so it was not just bumping on each other lol

Idia was in a love-hate relationship with your outgoing personality, he envy it and loved it at the same time. He didnt know how a normie can be so interesting

I wont say im in love with Ortho doing the choir at 3 am

Obviously you confessed first, and Idia got a panic attack right there, with his hair flaming in pink color, before saying in a little and trembling voice that he reciprocated those feelings. You tackled him in a hug and he SCREAMED.

Ortho very proud of his niichan not gonna lie

You two are so different just like the sun and the moon, but still you make it work.

Maybe this was the change that Idia needed for good huh

Idia loves how easy is for you to talk, and he loves how relaxing is listening to you. And how you understand his boundaries very well :)

You two have your alone-time, he plays his games and you go out. But you mantain in contact with texts.

Your gallery now is full of idia otaku memes and his photos of his computer, Ortho flying, and... A little piece of him. Yeah.

He doesnt like face photos so he will send you hand photos just so you know he is inside. Cute.

Your outgoing personality always drag the attention of others whenever you are around, perfect for idia, he just can crawl in a corner and let all the social quests to you!

Uuuuntil you make him socialize, he is not ready for this please be patient with him :(

Idia is a liiiiiittle jealous. Not the possesive kinda jelaous, but the crying-in-a-corner-being-insecure jealous type

Dont worry! Just some smooches and hugs to reassure him you love him and he will be grinning again.

His smile is terrifying and everyone knows that, yet you insist that its the most cute smile you have even seen, you have a photo of him smiling as your lockscreen.

" Y/n thats a creepypasta for sure-" "Shut up Ace"

Talking about PDA, Idia is a liiiitle shy outside, but inside his room is just a big teddy bear. Hugging you, kissing you, and letting you sit in his legs (your size doesnt matter)

He still lets you grab his hand or give you kisses outside, but with the risk of setting everything on fire with his pinkish flaming hair

Poor ortho always goes on carrying a fire extinguisher

He is your number one fan on whatever you do; Write? He is leaving a review on every work. Draw? Likes every post. Sing? Make sure to look at your public on stage to see A GROWN ASS FIRE MAN DANCING TO YOUR SONGS NO MATTER THE THEME OF THESE.

Just a big simp for his partner. And you love that too.

Dates for the two of you were kinda a thing to talk, you wanted to go out, and he wanted to be inside, so you two decided to do one and one; One date will be what you want, and the other what he wants. Great success.

Dates inside with Idia are interesting if you like video games or mechanics; You can also watch movies, sleep, see streams, playing board games. Just relaxing stuff, the thing you just need when you are tired of going out.

Dates outside, when your outgoing personality kicks in, are kinda funny to watch. Just a small human "normie" dragging an enormous yet big and timid otaku with flaming hair.

Going to shops and small cafes are great options, Idia will hear everything you have to say and enjoy desserts. He just eats that. That worries you, but he insist he has a healthy diet.

Arcade dates are a BIG YES. Idia will get every prize for you, soon your room will be filled with plushies. His competitive personality kicks in every game. Watch him beat you in a dance game and tease you.

Proceeds to talk about how normies dont understand real rhytmic games lmao.

Sometimes he will not feel like going outside, so it would be you and a floating tablet at your side chatting and seeing you.

Overall, is a nice and healthy relationship where you can be you, he can be him, and later be yourselfs with each other.

New Achievement Unlocked, Happy Otaku Boyfriend :)

[tj-wrote-things]

𝐇𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝗼

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!Grisha!reader

Based off of this ask

A/N- Hey besties, this is kinda late,, and i hate it but only a little bit. Can you guys like -stop requesting arguments??? pls its breaking my heart.

Mega thanks to @itisroe e for being my editor and shoulder to whine on :)

*Id like to take a moment to say that Nikolai is a bit of a dick in this one, and id like to reiterate that its never okay to invalidate or insult a so. I dont condone that type of behavior, im just writing it

enjoy:)

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If there was one thing Nikolai Lantsov knew how to do, it was pout. You caught him— more than just a few times— slouched over on the blush red couch with his arms crossed, face smushed into a scowl as he studied you packing your bag.

You sighed, casting an increasingly irritated glance at him as you folded the coarse cloth of your winter coat and tucked it away with the rest of your belongings. The weight would be too much to bear, but you knew it would be cold up north where you were headed alongside Zoya and the Bataars. 

“I’m leaving at dawn, whether you like it or not, Sobachka.” 

The King looked away briefly at your words, hating understanding that you were right. He hauled himself out of his seat and redirected his sulking to the world outside the large window. It was beautifully blanketed in steadily falling snow. 

“Will you really make our last night together a bitter one?” you commented.

“It wouldn’t be our last night if you’d just let me come with you,” Nikolai huffed. 

You exhaled, dreading that this would be the third time you had this discussion, which, in his world, was more so a debate.

The reason was simple: Nikolai had no business accompanying them. The objective of the mission to Fjerda was a peace treaty between the Drüskelle and the Grisha populous. As Nikolai fit neither category, it had been decided that he would stay back and continue to hold the country together.

“We’ve been through this: to bring more people on the expedition would only irritate the Fjerdans. Especially, the king of a country with which they’ve been at war for a considerable amount of time,” you reiterated. 

Nikolai shook his head again, unwilling to accept it. He refused to welcome the fact that the love of his long life would be away and in perpetual danger for weeks. 

The wind whistled as it bounded against the window, filling the room with a violent creaking.

“It’s dangerous, Y/N, why can you not understand—” 

You cut him off swiftly as his voice began to rise, “You watch that tone, Lantsov, or I’ll—” 

Now, it was Nikolai’s turn to cut you off: “You’ll what? Leave early?” The young man turned to you from the window and met your incredulous gaze. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. We both know it's your only vice.”

“My only vice,” you mocked cynically. “In what regard?” 

Nikolai spread his arms patronizingly as if he were explaining the obvious to his childhood self.

“Your heart craves adulation,” he said, pointing a sharp, accusatory finger your way. “You’ll take any opportunity to leave Os Alta— leave me— and flaunt your gifts.” 

Your heart thudded heavily in your chest. In anger or despair, you could not tell.

You would not lie to yourself. You knew with all your heart that, all things considered, your mastery of the Small Science was a blessing, hidden behind the mask of a devil. In the days you served faithfully in the Second Army, your gifts were revered and you were respected in the highest regard amongst your Grisha peers. However, in the years following the war, you became like everybody else. 

It was at the behest of your husband that you progressively began to use your power as an Inferni less as the days passed. Ever the political mastermind, he had approached you one summer evening and begged you refrain from using your power in public, claiming that the presence of a Grisha Queen was too much for his fragile country to bear. In the beginning, you had agreed, for if there was one thing that surpassed your love for your husband, it was your shared love for Ravka.

You knew that relations between the Grisha and the others were strained, and so you agreed, taking your husband's hand and promising to limit the displays of glowing orange flames which had burned your enemies as well as warmed the hands of your allies. 

It was becoming increasingly difficult to train behind a closed gate, under a roof, beneath the watchful eye of First Army guards armed with fire extinguishers. In fact, it had grown so stifling you had begun to resemble Alina Starkov when first she came to the Little Palace, with her pallor skin and brittle locks.

You brushed the aforementioned hair, now soft and healthy from the effects of tailoring, behind your ear as you placed the brush down and sharpened your stare at Nikolai’s face, shrouded in silver shadows from the icy light of the moon.

“Craves adulation,” you grumbled, knowing that if your voice rose any higher, it would betray every emotion storming around your heart. “Have a look in the mirror, Nikolai, and tell me which of us truly fits your description.”

His description, in all its insulting glory, fit Nikolai Lantsov to the tee.

Nikolai Lantsov, who would smile and wave to a crowd with a Sun Summoner on his arm, allowing you to watch with disdain from your place on a horse beside Mal. Nikolai Lantsov, who would hide behind a pair of gloves to escape the truth of what he had become. Nikolai Lantsov, who had pushed his wife into a state of sickness, albeit unknowingly, sacrificing her life’s blood for the sake of his country.

Nikolai Lantsov, who resolutely shook his head, running a hand through the already dishevelled hair on his head, before waving it dismissively, as if swatting a fly. “Please. You’d flick your hands for anyone who’d ask— if they clapped hard enough.” Nikolai moved for the bookshelf, drawing out a novel as if his words were mere small talk with an old friend.

Your anger blurred to shock. “Flick my hands—”

“Honestly, you take every opportunity to flaunt it. I’m surprised the Little Palace is still standing after having you inside for twenty years!” 

There was no sense to his vile declarations now. Though, Nikolai could not see it. The anger, betrayal, and frustration at being left behind were all that clouded his boyish mind as he hurled one unkind word after the other.

“Nikolai,” You moved towards him, arm outstretched, eyes beginning to water. “Lapushka, please—” As your hand approached his, the storm heavier than ever. He wrenched his arm away from you, leering his head back to look you in the eyes.

“Truly, I can’t be sure why you haven’t left already.”

“For saints’ sake, Nikolai. Look at me!”

The dam broke as you flicked your hands, removing the tailoring to your appearance, unveiling the truth of your restrictions.

Nikolai stared with an open mouth and hard eyes as the warm winter flush of your cheeks was replaced with dulled skin, and the sleek shine of your hair was redefined with a brittle and unkempt bush.

“The only person from whom I crave adulation,” you whispered, “is the only man who’s too thick to look past a wavering mask.”

The Lantsov King swallowed, flipping the book restlessly in his hands. “Y/N—”

“Get out.” You left no room for him to argue, even when he opened his mouth once more. “I said leave!” You stalked to the door, pulling it open with a loud shriek of wood. “Now.”

Nikolai Lantsov, who spent the night in a guest room, in a state of perpetual regret.

No amount of tossing and turning brought any comfort to his aching heart, nor his pounding head. He flopped halfheartedly in the guest bed, stiff from lack of use, and from lack of you, revisiting the disgusting words he’d spat. The reason for them, however unjustified, sat heavily on his chest, suffocating him at an agonizing rate.

Nikolai Lantsov, who was afraid that— like his mother and father— you would grow to resent his blood, resent it for its stark difference to yours. The fear that you would  regret your marriage to what your people called an otkazat’sya: the abandoned.

The King figured it was only a matter of time before the title served him fully. 

It was reasonable, wasn’t it? To lash out at a time of vulnerability? Nikolai couldn’t be sure, having grown up in a family of despots who had never given him the time of day when it mattered most. 

Watching the tailored facade fall from his wife’s face, Nikolai was reminded solely of his mother, who, like you, was coerced into moulding her face into that of the perfect queen, at the behest of her husband. He knew then that all he had said and done was wrong. Wrong to her, and wrong to her people.

How could he bring himself to apologize? To walk into their bedroom and beg forgiveness? Would she forgive him? Even if he stooped— a king in tears and on his knees for the woman he loved perhaps more ardently than the country he vowed to govern— would she, in all her scorned glory, crouch beside him, take his face in her hands, and kiss away his regret?

Could he expect her to?

Dawn came around all too swiftly, rousing husband and wife from their fitful sleep in separate rooms, and with it came your departure to the northern lands.

You stood side-by-side with Nikolai as the carriages were loaded with provisions, luggage, and gifts for the Drüskelle, refusing to look at him. Instead, digging fruitlessly in your shoulder bag as an excuse to keep your head down.

The call came from the footman as the time arrived for you to leave. You didn’t make it more than one step forward with your hand gripping the leather strap of your bag before a firm grasp was on your waist.

“Wait,” whispered Nikolai, tugging you back. He cast a glance at the guard, letting him know that they would need a moment. “I can’t let you leave— not like this.” 

You held your gaze to the floor. Gently, he tilted your head back up with his thumb and forefinger. “Not now, not when you can barely look at me,” he continued. You held his stare as his hand shifted tentatively towards your jaw. “Not when I can’t be sure you won't come back to me, Milaya.”

You sniffled softly at the nickname, moving your own hand to his face and pausing to tuck away a loose golden curl.

“Please come back to me,” he said softly as if he were sharing a secret. There was an unspoken apology apparent in his reddening eyes while the seconds ticked by.

“Of course,” you murmured back, tipping his head down as you pecked his brow, then his cheek. “Nikolai, there’s not a thing in this world that could keep me away from you.”

You kissed him soundly, your hand running across the expanse of his jaw as he leaned into the tender forgiveness settled in your palm. When you broke apart, Nikolai took your hand from his face. He kissed your palm and walked you to your carriage. The King watched with concerned eyes as you took your seat.

Nikolai kissed your hand once more from his place on the ground and looked up at you. “Swear you’ll write,” he said. “Or I’ll crash the proceedings.”

You barked a hearty laugh, squeezing his hand as he tried to let you go. “I will,” you promised. “And I’ll see you when I come back.”

It was another moment before you let go of his hand. His palm hit the carriage door bearing the Lantsov crest. You watched as the carriage travelled further and further away, Nikolai’s frame disappearing into the horizon. 

“I promise,” you whispered.

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