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kazamajun · 1 month

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Scorpio Rising

Pairing: Jun Kazama x Kazuya Mishima

Content warning: Sexual content (18+ only), monster/devilfucking (kind of), cunnilingus

Synopsis: An AU wherein Kazuya goes straight to Yakushima from Italy, arriving there before everyone else, and reunites with his wife in his brand new form. Character study and NSFW. Canon compliant up until T8 main story chapter 8. Includes references to personal headcanons and theories regarding T2 events.

Word count: 6k

Ao3 version: Link

Kazuya Mishima does not believe in destiny.

He had always scorned the concept of fate, the idea that the course of his life could be up to the whims of some intangible force and not something built with his own hands. His to determine.

Thus when all the pieces of his plan fell into place with ease, he derived satisfaction from the knowledge that it was entirely due his own meticulousness.

Jin Kazama had unleashed Azazel by generating strife, and emulating those the same circumstances had been a simple enough thing to enact. The endgame of course, weakening the seal enough to tear Azazel from the flimsy prison of that woman's arm. Upon being freed, the beast had been cocky, unwarrantedly so due to the ease with which it was vanquished - now for a second time - and absorbed by Kazuya. Once taking on the resulting new form he had swiftly adjusted to the devil's power, surely a sign that it was always meant to be in his hands.

Those who stood against Kazuya now in The Colosseum were no match for him, and they knew it. Their defiance was, at most, merely an inconvenience to him. Even that ambitious exorcist. Immobilizing the devil temporarily was brave, but insufficient, as was that giant glowing arrow of his. Despite all those flashy aesthetics no meaningful pain is inflicted, Kazuya has taken and withstood much worse and from stronger individuals in the past. Though, there is a breaking of skin at his shoulder which triggers something internally, as if Azazel sensed some weakness or an escape route to seep out of Kazuya's body. Unbidden, roiling purple smoke seeps from the wound like sand from a cracked hourglass. Kazuya barely has time to register it before his muscles violently convulse with the force of the consumed demon rebelling inside him. Wrenching from within, it feels like Azazel is trying to turn him inside out. A unique agony.

Loath as he is to leave an enemy alive, Kazuya is forced to evaluate the merits of a tactical retreat. None of those before him are truly a threat and fighting any further would simply soak up time that could be applied to a better purpose, and forcing Azazel into stillness is of a greater priority. The rest will be dealt with later. Steeling his willpower and testing the full capacity of his new wingspan, Kazuya leaves. His goal here has been accomplished to its fullest extent, and this knowledge soothes any potential dent to his ego caused by abandoning the fight. Mentally he is already compartmentalizing the pain and turning over the next court of action to take. For a fleeting moment he considers returning to G Corporation to recover and get a SITREP, but the notion is dismissed just as quickly. Nina is no friend of his, not like her sister, but she is a professional who can be trusted as far as she finds the compensation to be adequate. His forces are in capable hands until her contract ends. Finding a way to quell Azazel and cement his new power is foremost in his mind. The original devil is putting up a far stronger fight against being assimilated than his own devil had, which was to be expected, and he has come far enough now that averting unnecessary risks is tantamount. There had to be a way to subdue it until it fully became a part of him. With this decided, there was only one natural conclusion to draw.

The Kazama shrine.

Kazuya is no stranger to this lineage's powers. He had met Jun Kazama during the second tournament and been fascinated by her strength and uniqueness. Eventually he consented to her temporarily suppressing his devil, a decision that - unforeseen by both of them - had cost him the edge he needed to defeat his father. Back then, youthful hubris had him believe he could kill Heihachi with nothing but his fists and long-kindled rage, but Kazuya has learned a lot since. Power is power, no matter the source, and every possible advantage had been needed to ensure that he put that old man down for good. Training, strategy, and the strength in the Hachijo blood passed down from his mother, Kazumi. When he had finally defeated Heihachi, it almost felt like she had been with him. Kazuya is not a spiritual man, but some small piece of him likes to think that vengeance has brought peace to Kazumi’s soul.

Jun had mentioned her family's ancestral shrine once, that it was the centre of sacred land that in itself was a nexus for power. At the time Kazuya had thought little of the information but it could serve him now. If he were to claim that for himself and use it to suppress Azazel's will as his body adapts to the absorption, he would achieve complete mastery of the devil's full potential with minimal risk.

—

The flight to Yakushima is long and truthfully, Kazuya has no idea what he is looking for but feels he will know it when he sees it. His senses have been expanded beyond anything he had ever possessed before and once the island comes into view there is a noticeable change in energy flow, even the trees themselves hold a measure of unique energy now discernable through the new awareness granted to him, and he is certain this was the right decision. Flying overhead the canopies he focuses on what he can sense, glaring down through the boughs until something catches his attention. A trace of that unmistakable thrum of the Kazama lineage. Jun often kept her aura suppressed as a form of training and so as not to intimidate wildlife or any spiritually sensitive humans, but on occasion she had let that guard drop around him and even all these years later he'd never forgotten the sensation of her presence. What he was searching for had to be here.

He swoops down through the trees carelessly, following that feeling like a beacon. It leads him to a passage whose exterior is adorned with shimenawa and the inside is an oddly serene place; Yakushima in its entirety feels remote and alien to one like himself who prefers the comfort and convenience human civilization has to offer, but this area seems particularly untouched even in comparison to its surroundings. Almost as if it were frozen in time. He feels power coursing beneath his feet and in the walls and vines. Nature has either reclaimed or perhaps coexisted alongside what remained of this area for a long time now, but it is unnaturally quiet. It is fascinating, even Hon-Maru had no such energy coalescence and it makes him all the more determined to find the source.

A white bird flutters into view and flies down a nearby hole in the ground and, with little else but instinct to guide him, Kazuya pursues this strange sign of life emerging from the silence. The bird appears to share his destination - the shrine's altar comes into view, but what is more surprising than this spontaneous guidance is the figure laying there; bioluminescent surroundings, stray motes of mysterious light and a stray shaft of sunshine simultaneously shrouding and highlighting the motionless form with a mysterious radiance.

He had figured this place empty and forgotten, and watches with unconcealed surprise as the bird makes contact and merges with the one upon the altar, who then gasps like someone previously drowning taking their first breath of air after breaching the surface.

This could not be real.

The form of Jun Kazama slowly stirs after some heaving breaths, sitting up from her previously supine position on the plant-laden slab. With innate grace she turns to slide her legs to hang off the altar's edge while she remains seated, visibly taking a moment to recover from her prior unconsciousness.

"Impossible." Kazuya remarks aloud, though more to himself than anyone else. To think she could have been here this whole time... it is difficult to process. Absurd. And yet, it is a consistent reality manifested in front of him, observed by every single one of his multiple eyes as he drinks in the vision. He feels strangely unmoored by this tableau he bears witness to until Jun raises her chin and looks at him. Meeting that familiar gaze causes an odd twisting in his chest, this time one utterly unrelated to his current predicament with Azazel, and which only intensifies once she speaks.

"Kazuya," Jun breathes, both at the surprise of seeing him at her awakening, and shock at the form he is in. "What have you done to yourself?" She has seen his devil form before, and it was never like this. The tail, eye embedded in his chest, along with various ridges and hard crystalline facets that emulate armour are all new, forming a more imposing silhouette; and while his features and voice are recognizable enough they too have been altered, taking on a more inhuman edge. His aura is different too. Still, she knows it is him, the same way she has always known him.

It does not surprise him that Jun's instinct is to challenge and question. It would not be her if she didn't. She wields her sincerity like a form of strength and it's something Kazuya welcomes, for it is assurance that this is real. And the difference in how he appears now makes it a fair query. He feels indomitable now, and with such strength comes boundless freedom and possibility. "I have become who I was always meant to be." A statement he delivers with confidence and pride, backed with the full weight of belief. The power of devils was his birthright, his to claim alongside anything else that is within his ability to grasp. That is the natural order of the world, and to be left with nothing is for the weak.

Jun's gaze narrows slightly and for a moment appears unfocused, as if she were seeing right through him. Something she had seemingly been adept at doing since they had first met. But, being laid bare in front of one you trust is not shameful. Thus Kazuya does not shy away from her scrutiny, and Jun is able to discern that he is not alone, not truly. There is something inside him roiling and raging to be freed. Not his innate devil who he had a tug-of-wills with all those years ago. This, this is something distinctly new and vastly more powerful. Directness is part of her nature, so Jun further presses with gentle concern. "And that… passenger of yours?"

It is entirely unsurprising to him that she was able to sense Azazel, given the abilities displayed back when their lives were first interwoven. Abilities that Kazuya knows she would have continued to refine in the years beyond, as he has with his own. Discovering that she lives has invoked a mix of emotions that Kazuya forces himself to shove down, to be pragmatic and prioritize. It is clear now that the power he sensed earlier was not merely a trace remnant of the Kazama lineage's spiritual energy but Jun herself - though this does not alter his goals and may in fact serve them all the better than attempting to suppress Azazel alone. "It is a matter I have faith you can assist with, as you tried similar once before." Kazuya approaches where she is seated and takes one of her gloved hands between his own with great care, consciously ensuring his talons are not at risk of grazing her. It had been over 20 years since their last contact, and the touch is surprising with how natural it feels. As if his fingers curled around hers was simply how they were meant to be. A strange feeling. He raises her hand to press it palm-first against his chest. "It is the progenitor of devils, Azazel. If you can purge its consciousness, only I shall remain."

The Kazama clan have not been exorcists in generations, not in the commonly understood sense of the word. They preserved harmony and sought only to defend, rather than engaging directly in the hunting of anything supernatural. Still, there had been oral histories passed down about the origins of devils and their singular root, an entity creating servants for itself to carry out its wishes. An irony that one such supposed 'servant' would surpass that creature itself. Though, if anyone were to be capable of such, Jun reckons, of course it would be Kazuya.

The feel of his hand and chest are so different from that of the calloused fingers and firm skin inhabiting her memories. And while his torso retains the same basic musculature and distinctive scar beneath, the demonic shell prevents Jun from being able to feel his heartbeat - something unsurprising and yet a slight disappointment. In the past it had often been a comforting pulse. Perhaps this form felt the need for his heart to be more heavily guarded.

And despite it all, he is still so familiar. It is a little jarring that so much could change and yet stay the same, something that transcends the purely physical; Kazuya himself is like a lightning strike - unpredictable, fleeting, yet forever altering what it touches. Growing to love him changed her, an affection and truth that has endured all these years. And so, he has asked for her aid with unquestioning trust, and she will provide. It is as simple and as complicated as that. Jun looks from where he planted her hand, where she is now touching contemplatively with splayed fingers, back up to his eyes again, and gives an affirming nod. She is confident in her ability to fulfil his request, empowered here in this sacred place.

"It will hurt." Kazuya does not fear pain, she knows this, but imparts the warning nonetheless. A small grunt of acknowledgement as Kazuya braces himself is all Jun waits for before calling upon every piece of purifying power she can muster, maintaining a razor-sharp focus to sear and eliminate Azazel's consciousness from existence without harming Kazuya more than necessary.

How long it takes is something neither of them could define, other than to say a duration that pushes them both close to their limits. Even with her unparalleled concentration it still feels like a sun being forced between his ribs, blossoming light burning with a ferocity akin to holy fire immolating every nerve ending for dilating moments that stretch out intolerably… until finally, it stops. Jun's hand falls away, and Kazuya sags forward unintentionally in the aftermath of the spiritual cauterization, from both the agony and catharsis. Their faces hover dangerously close and linger, both of them breathing slightly harder from the exertion and endurance, respectively. For a moment they share one breath. Jun looks into his crimson eyes, first the main pair then the third one in the centre of his brow, as if searching for something.

Kazuya leans back, seemingly oblivious to the scrutiny, rolling his neck and turning his focus inward as his eyes close. Where there once had been Azazel's rebelling and twisting sentience waging internal war against captivity… he now feels only silence. Upon this confirmation he reopens them, satisfied.

Jun gently touches his shoulder, her fingers skirting the edge of what she notes to be a freshly-healed wound there. She knows her task is done and his expression verifies it. "So, what now?" The world has moved on for seven years without her, and while she knows their shared affections have entwined them in a manner that is not subject to time's whims, the man before her is a mystery in ways beyond his physical form. The Kazuya she'd known was from decades prior, and people change under the irrevocable march of years.

"I was told you had died." Kazuya utters once his breathing evens out. The words carry a current of disdain. A ridiculous notion, that she could have been slain by the same creature that had taken out other - in his eyes, inferior - martial artists. But, she had vanished without a trace and the boy genuinely believed her dead. Knowing Jun as he does, Kazuya was aware she would not voluntarily have left Jin alone; nor sent him to Kazuya's own monster of a father had there been any alternative. Thus, he had accepted the news for truth and with no small measure of grief, albeit channeled into violence before being buried deep and smoothed over with a topsoil of simmering rage. Heihachi and his men had awakened the cursed thing, set off that whole chain of events and robbed Kazuya of a loved one for the third time. Or so he’d thought. Now that the more immediate danger was over and there actually was time to process it all, to reconcile the fact that something he'd believed for so long was actually untrue, has Kazuya more shaken and in need of answers than he cares to outwardly admit. His wings flare slightly with agitation.

"I almost did." Jun replies with an open honesty. Recalling the sensation of being close to death was far from pleasant, but divulging the memory is a necessity, she knows. "Calling upon the power in this place I defeated the ogre that attacked us, but it had fatally wounded me in turn. The voice of my ancestors guided me here to rest, and I was kept from death until I could heal." The mystical protection is not something Jun herself fully comprehends. She had trusted in where the sound of her family's lullaby led her, and it is how she survived. Perhaps it did not need to be more deeply understood than that. Her hand raises from Kazuya's shoulder to lay along his cheek. Even armoured as it is with demonic cartilage, his bone structure is still familiar and the feel of him soothes something in her. And it seems to be reciprocated, as it is impossible to miss the way he ever so slightly tilts his head and leans in to the touch, his disconcertment slowly ebbing.

For Kazuya it is a strange thing to be cared about so openly. To have one so dedicated to you yet who asks for nothing in return. Even all these years later, Jun's first act had been for his welfare, and done without question. It causes an ache, tugging at that carefully compartmentalized sense of loss where all these years without her had resided. One of his hands comes to rest over the top of her one gracing his cheek, lingering there briefly before he gently lifts her hand away and just below the hem of her glove he presses a small kiss to her bare wrist in wordless response and acknowledgement of her selflessness.

"Kazuya…" Jun has seen visions of the atrocities committed in their time apart, and she is not blind to the flaws in the man she has chosen to love. Life has been cruel to him, and this made him cruel to the world. A defensive coldness and closed-off nature cultivated for survival. But she has also seen his honesty. How he honours his word. His capacity for loyalty. The way that cold nature could melt under the warmth of understanding and patience. How he challenged her and was her match, in the way only a true counterpart can be. All these things and more are what earned her love all those years ago, and are why she chooses to have faith in him now. "I only left Tokyo when I knew you weren't coming back. 'til then, I waited, and only returned home once I knew I was alone. But I never left you. Not even after we were parted." Physical separation, be it distance or death, was incidental and involuntary. In both the spiritual and emotional sense he had always been in her heart, was the last person she thought of before succumbing to the lull of otherworldly sleep in this place.

Kazuya would not say he suspected or hoped for as much, someone as captivating as Jun could easily have moved on if she wished. It is heartening to hear, and her sentiments echo his own. It was either Jun, or no one. She is singular, her uniqueness and strength equalled only by her capacity for compassion. While he had never quite grasped why he should be the recipient of it, it was a gift cherished and not to be squandered. "I would have you at my side again - if you will have me." The words are stilted; the ability to express tender emotions had never come easily as he had been raised to see sentiment as weakness; cold rage being the only thing that allowances were made for. But here he is doing his best to be sincere, even if it comes off as formal.

There is nothing she wants more in this world. But still, one last thing remained. “I… felt you die, Kazuya. When your heart stopped, I knew.”Her admission is like a vulnerability, revealing an old wound. Something unspoken, but nonetheless carried all this time. In that moment two decades ago she had felt the true fragility of their planned future, the speculated idealism of how things would be once he was finally free of the threat of his father. It had shattered and slipped through her fingers back then. Which leaves a hanging question in this current moment. “When you were brought back, why did you never seek me out?”

The answers to this are myriad, and ultimately; meaningless. It had been a mistake on his part, one fueled by selfishness and fear. Kazuya is silent for a long moment, giving the question the consideration it deserves and his tone is low when he finally speaks. “The version of me you loved, was a man you thought could be redeemed.” He is not saying this to hurt her, nor does he believe she carries any illusions to be shattered. Kazuya can tell she knows his sins, and has seen right through him yet her eyes still hold that same unconditional affection. Such deserves nothing less than full candor. “Dying and being dragged back taught me one thing — if I was to finally kill Heihachi, I had to dedicate myself to it in a way that left no room for anything else in my life. Or so I once believed. And I justified it with the notion that when that was done, I would find you and see if you could still care for the man I had become.” The words sound foolish to him now, far too idealistically simple. He had gone in the complete opposite direction to his overconfident prior self, but still been equally naïve in both cases. “Then I got the news you had been killed. The rest, I presume you know. This path I have walked has left me beyond redemption. It is not something I desire. But you—”

Jun unintentionally silences him by interlacing her fingers though his and gripping his hand firmly. The gesture was meant to be reassuring, though perhaps it is that very assurance that serves to derail him. “I never wanted you to change for me, Kazuya. Who you are is for you to decide; not me, and not your past. All I wish for is for us to have a future.” Another squeeze, and therein lies her answer to him. “Consider yourself warned that I will not accept being parted from you again.” Sincerity is in her words, her touch, as both of her hands rise to cradle his face. Thumbs sweep softly across his cheekbones, conveying her wholehearted embracing through firm statement of fact coupled with gentle caress. Touching this new form of his is novel, all glittering edges, subcutaneous glow, and textures varying from smooth crystalline and firm carapace to rough edges and then to more conventionally human-like skin. She had embraced his original devil all those years ago, and while the change with that transformation was far less drastic, appreciating this new one was no hardship. He is spectacular, and what matters the most is knowing the man she adores is in there. That he is fully in control. "I have been without you for long enough." As if to punctuate the point, Jun removes her gloves, both a symbolic and literal removal of barriers; the need to touch without obstruction.

Kazuya welcomes the contact, allowing her to explore the new facets of him with her hands, content with the gentle affection and the soft awe in her stunning eyes. He settles for merely resting his hands upon her waist, content to slowly re-acquaint himself with the feel of her in his arms. The touches are a chaste enough exploration though tenderness soon awakens a longing that turns to desire. And how foreign it is for Kazuya to feel a desire unconnected to the urge for power or ownership. For this is a giving freely of the self, not a subjugation. The yearning that sings in his veins is echoed in her own and, leaning in to each other, their lips meet in a motion as inevitable and natural as the tides being drawn by the moon. The rest of the world seems to fade away as they give in to what feels like a personal gravity centred on them both alone. His arms snake around her waist to grip more tightly while her own entwine around his neck, anchoring him between her legs and pulled flush against her, with barely space to breathe between them. Much like the rest of him, Kazuya's lips have a slightly different feel in this form and the kisses are at first gently exploratory too, as if reacquainting oneself with something long thought lost. The familiar and the new combining with a heart-aching seamlessness.

When they pause to catch their breath, he raises a clawed hand to thread through her hair. It is much longer than it ever was before, and suits her. Though she would be stunningly beautiful regardless. Jun impulsively gives the corner of his mouth a languid kiss in response. “Unfortunate that I cannot return the gesture.” Her fingertips tapping the side of his head punctuate the point; for in this form his hair has been replaced with crystal ridges. Beautiful to look at, but more troublesome to grasp than his usual slicked-back style she had taken great pleasure in ruining the perfection of in the past. Kazuya smirks and kisses her again. Her moments of playful irreverence were endearing and have been sorely missed… along with everything else. The feel of her is intoxicating, compelling in how it fills a void he’d been able to convince himself until now was not present. Whereas for Jun, she had acknowledged his absence, held onto it as tightly as they hold each other now, refusing to let go of or deny what they'd meant to each other and unwilling to seek or settle for any pale echo of their connection. There was nothing to be gained from lying to oneself, in her view. It is perhaps this emotional honesty and spurning of denial that leads Jun to take control of the kiss, leaning up into him and assertively parting her lips, inviting in his tongue which she seeks out with her own. It is a delicate and slow dance, balancing passion with caution due to those fangs of his. The need for such precise care despite their growing desire only further heightens the mutual arousal, and when they break apart the second time both are trembling, breathing hard, drowning in emotions and sensations not felt for decades.

Jun barely has time to breathe his name before his mouth is on her neck, kissing and sucking, teeth grazing the delicate skin ever so carefully. The tilt of her head to expose more of herself to him and her soft gasps of pleasure are all the invitation he needs to work his way down to her shoulder until obstructed by her collar. A situation somewhat remedied by how swiftly she undoes her top two buttons, offering up her throat and more to her beloved with a carefree abandon. It is all too easy to get lost in the moment, in the taste of her skin, the fluttering pulse that betrays her racing heart, and the siren song of her gentle sighs. Provoking such reactions from her even still after all this time stokes his desire, this affirmation of want. It draws a noise from him of longing and frustration that he half-smothers against her collarbone. This seemingly insatiable appetite for her would be the death of him.

Kazuya is not the only one reeling from the reigniting of a flame long thought guttered out from absence. Cravings that were once deadened to a dull ache surface in full force. And, never the type to be overly passive, Jun unfastens the next two buttons, the fabric of her top hanging open and only held together by the belt around her waist. The mixture of her need to be touched and the exposure of her skin to the cool air makes her shiver and pull Kazuya closer, arms winding around his waist until her fingers meet at the ridges of his spine and trace downward 'til it flattens out into the base of his tail.

He shudders visibly at the touch.

"Kazuya…?"

Rather than respond with words, he attacks her neck with a renewed fervor, lightly palming one of her breasts and she arches her back to press even more firmly into his hand. They have both needed this, are capable of feeling little other than the intense mutual need to wrap around each other and be one. His kisses move lower, igniting a heated trail down her chest until he pauses, groans her name, and his claws move to caress her thighs, tracing up and down with a careful slowness. The control is admirable and he always had been careful with her, even moreso than she was with him; having often left her mark in the throes of passion.

Anchored between her legs like this and lowered almost to his knees, it is obvious to Jun what he desires even without it being stated aloud. His mouth was once well-practiced in pleasuring her, yet he does not say anything directly, as if it would be requesting a boon he does not deserve.

And gods did her body respond to his need. Heat floods her cheeks, throat, and pools lower to intensify the slowly growing ache that had begun to form in her since their lips touched. "Please," she invites, shifting a little in an attempt to figure the logistics of how to remove her shoes and clothing while Kazuya remains between her legs, though it seemingly needn't have been a concern as he soon realizes what she is attempting to do and thoughtfully helps her slip off the socks and shoes. Leggings and underwear are the next to go, moving in place to push them down while seated and likewise he assists again in sliding them down her legs. The stone is still cold against her bare skin despite how long she has been here, though the shiver running through her has little to do with the temperature.

His hands find her again, and this time his palms gliding along the bared skin from hips to her knees draws a shaky exhale from Jun's lips. Kazuya takes his time, appreciating the feel of her, indulging himself by relishing the moment. It has been far too long. Gently he parts her legs further, still moving slowly. It feels like the world is holding its breath in this place, and he does not wish to hurry. In fact he does not even begin to lower himself to his knees until Jun makes a small noise and telltale anticipatory tremble.

He had memorized her body once. Unlike his own, hers has not been scarred and ravaged by hardships but there are still subtle changes that marked the passage of time. A beautiful thing, he would never wish for her to be stagnant. Kazuya presses a kiss to her leg just above the side of her knee, gentle at first though getting firmer as he lazily works his way up her inner thigh. After getting close he deigns to give a gentle teasing bite then switches over and repeats the motion to her other leg. It draws a soft groan from her - while appreciative of his tenderness it is still a mild frustration to draw out what they both want. Jun utters his name quietly but he continues his willful meandering of soft kisses and light graze of fang with an indulgent stubbornness until it draws forth a “Kazuya, please.”

Satisfied at the vocalized desire, Kazuya shifts his attentions and gives a languid stroke of his tongue that just barely parts her folds. With an equally unhurried pace he works his way up to her clit, giving that delicate area the same slow stroke but then following it up with a kiss. Her body spasms and Jun cries out, grasping one of his horns with a hand to steady herself.

Three querying red eyes look up at her to gauge if he should stop, and Jun shakes her head. "I'm just a bit sensitive. It's been a long time." Reassured, Kazuya returns to the task. Her grip on his horn remains and Kazuya finds that he enjoys the pressure, and likewise it was ceding a measure of control to her; permitting her leverage to control his movement. The trust involved in such a thing heightens the intimacy and serves to make him crave her more. The taste and scent of her, every soft sound she makes.

Impulsively he shifts his wings to allow for her knees to be thrown over his shoulders, tilting her thighs up and farther apart. This draws a small gasp from her and she grips the horn even tighter while also placing her other hand behind her to brace herself. Kazuya barely waits for her recovery and buries his face between her legs again, returning to his leisurely ministrations.

Jun has never been an overly vocal lover but he can read the mannerisms of her body language like a well-studied book. The delicate flush on her neck, the way her legs tremble, every small shift in breathing. Non-verbal responses are his guide and he pays rapt attention. The wetness of her arousal is an indicator he savours in particular and after judging it sufficient he works his tongue inside her with the same gentle patience.

She gasps and lightly shivers, having gone untouched for so long the stimulation is extra intense. The feel of his tongue is incredible, stroking her walls and dimly she realizes the sensations are much stronger and go far deeper than his tongue was ever able to reach before. A side benefit of this new demonic form perhaps? It curls and writhes inside her, intensifying the heat and pleasure. All these years without him had left her wanting, a yearning for both the physical and emotional fulfillment that only he can give and now she takes it all, wordlessly asking for more.

Kazuya lets out a deep appreciative sound somewhere between a moan and a growl as he savours her taste. The vibration shoots straight to her clit and has her seeing stars, almost hitting her peak. "Kazuya…" The uttering of his name spurs him on, and he begins to fuck her more insistently with his tongue. His grip on her thighs tightens when he senses her drawing close to the edge, and when she reaches that crescendo with a gentle tremble and moan he slows down but does not stop entirely, gently continuing through her climax.

After cresting that high she feels like in her twenties again, love-drunk and half dazed from the rush of crossing multiple precipices and taboos. They hold each other in the tender aftermath until Jun lets go of the embrace first, finally coming back to herself enough to feel the discomfort of bare flesh on stone that was never intended for such activities. She dresses herself slowly, as if wanting to linger in the moment and not fully ready to let go of it.

#nsft #my writing #au: scorpio rising #jun kazama #kazuya mishima #kazjun #kazujun #sorry if you read this already but i'm reposting for those without an ao3 account since that version is locked to users only due to bots!!

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blueteller · 2 years

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The Issue of TBOAH's Narration – was it wrong??

As those who finished reading TCF Part 1 know (spoiler alert); Cale Henituse got his knowledge about the world he got transmigrated into from a series of books called "The Birth of a Hero", by "Nelan Barrow" – aka. Choi Jung Gun, Choi Han's uncle.

CJG wrote them as a "guide" for Choi Jung Soo, Kim Rok Soo's friend, who was originally supposed to be the one transported into that world to help Choi Han defeat the White Star. Plans changed, however, when he and Lee Soo Hyuk altered fate and saved KRS's life, at the cost of their own. So KRS-turned-Cale took CJS's place and the TBOAH series served as a guide for him, instead.

There are still many questions unanswered about this whole thing. For example: how did CJG know all the things he did? The novel was supposedly from TBOAH!Choi Han's point of view, and yet, it had some inexplicable details… like how to earn the Indestructible Shield (which supposedly was never gotten by anyone), or Harol Kodiang parentage – why mention such a thing at all? Was Harol somehow important in the TBOAH verse later on?

Or another example: why didn't the books mention the White Star at all? Surely, if past-volume-5 Choi Han's knowledge was given to CJG to write about, shouldn't he first and foremost explain to CJS who the Final Boss is and how to defeat him??

Or another: why was it so important for CJG to tell his grand-nephew just how pretty the Whale People are???

So many unanswered questions!!

Today, however, I will be focusing on topic of them in particular:

Was TBOAH's narration actually, 100% correct?

Here's the thing: I was re-reading one of my favorite fanfics recently, "In an Instant" by Messy_haired_bum on AO3. I got to the chapter where a certain part of TBOAH came up – namely, "the Last Survivor of the Wolf Tribe", the Wolf King Lock. The characters in the fic discuss a particular problem with that title: Lock wasn't the last Wolf.

Or, well, he wasn't supposed to be.

Arm's goal in attacking the Wolf Tribes wasn't exterminating them at all – it was abduction of their children. Lock's siblings, by all account, should have gotten kidnapped in TBOAH verse, not assassinated. It is important, because later on the races "abandoned by the gods" – like the Wolf Tribe, Vampires and Dark Elves – were meant to be used as sacrifices to the God of Despair, to summon the 8 Unranked Monsters from the demonic statues in Endable, as well as the Temple of the Sealed God in Puzzle City. Lock was part of the team who managed to rescue some of the abducted Wolves, himself.

The problem is this: did the TBOAH!Lock not know about the abduction somehow, only assuming he was the last one when that wasn't the case… or was the TBOAH's narration wrong, for some reason?

The characters in the fic are torn on the issue – neither argument supported by the omniscient narration (which was a clever move on the author, that's why the writing's so great in this) – and the two Locks despise each other: TBOAH!Lock believes his counterpart to be weak, while TCF!Lock thinks the other him was blind and failed to notice his siblings getting abducted.

However, there is a third option. Which is a theory I've had for a long time.

I do not believe that CJG's writing could actually be 100% correct – especially where it comes to subjective stuff, such as beauty or people's personal beliefs. He clearly has some idea of his character's motivations and personalities, and yet he had no idea about OG Cale throwing his reputation for the sake of his step-brother Basen.

On the other hand… I think CJG got his objective facts right, such as the order of events. Even if the timeline wasn't explained to Cale as clearly as he would have wished – causing him to encounter the Whales in the Ubarr Territory, despite visiting the shore way earlier than the events of TBOAH's volume 5… Still, CJG never wrote any lies. Sure, TBOAH!Lock believed to himself to be the last member of the Wolf Tribe when that clearly wasn't the case. However, I think the attack on his village could have been a complete assassination after all.

How, do you answer? One word: Redika.

Redika was the one who attacked Lock's Wolf Village in both TBOAH and TCF, but his actions could have been different in the two timelines. Why...?

...Because of Raon, of course.

Think about it: Cale's actions caused massive differences from the very beginning. From Choi Han's relationships, to the survival of the nameless village where Raon was being tortured at. However, most people forget that there was an important link between Raon and Redika. Redika was the one who sold the Black Dragon Egg to Marquis Stan – and the thing is? He wasn't supposed to do it!

No, in fact, the Black Dragon going on a rampage and dying at Choi Han's hands? It probably gave Redika a lot of trouble! Because he was never supposed to sell that egg!! It never should have been in his posession at all!!!

The Dragon-Half Blood, which was presumably Redika's teacher in magic, gave him the Black Egg in secret in order to "dispose of it" – aka. protect it. Redika agreed, then double-crossed him by selling it to a random low-ranked Arm member (because let's be honest, the Stans couldn't have been high in that hierarchy) for some BIG CASH. Everything went down well under the table of course, so he was pretty confident there would be no bad consequences for him.

...Except, he Dragon escaping and revealing himself in such a public way?? No way he could have covered it up! Redika was probably sweating bullets when he found out! If someone connected the dots about him being involved… oh boy. If the Dragon Half-Blood heard about it, Redika would be good as dead. If the White Star heard about it… he'd be worse than dead.

And I bet the news reached him juuust around the time he got the mission to abduct some Wolf Tribe children. What would a psychopath do in such a stressful situation?

Why, murder a bunch of children, of course!

It makes 100% sense. Maybe Redika didn't kill all the children in TBOAH – maybe it was just some of them. But it was enough to make Lock and others convinced that Arm's goal was assassination. Redika went on a rampage to let off some steam, and probably killed more of the "seeds" than he should have on this mission. He'd probably get even more in trouble because of that, but hey – YOLO, am I right?? 😂

I mean c'mon, it's not like Redika was a particularly restrained guy.

Of course, there were other factors: such as Choi Han and Rosalyn arriving earlier than in TBOAH, thus saving more lives. But I'm pretty sure that Redika's actions were different in TBOAH, as well. There's no way he would be unaffected when he about the Black Dragon escaping in TBOAH. The butterfly effect in TCF is super strong. If tiny differences like Choi Han not beating up Cale resulted in his actions being different, why wouldn't the same apply to other characters? We all know the moment Cale transmigrated, the whole thing went of the rails.

Basically: I think CJG was right in TBOAH, mostly. Except Cale's actions caused such huge waves of changes, the situation changed drastically. Lock believed to be the last of his kind because for all he knew, that was the case. But the attack on his village probably went differently in TBOAH from the start, not just because of Choi Han and Rosalyn.

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