#spirit x kami

[bcbdrums]

Just thinking 'bout parallels....

And how Soul would follow Maka to the ends of the earth and jump off the edge after her... Even when Maka has started following after someone else Crona.

So yeah, parallels... Stein, with Spirit and Kami.

How interesting Maka turned out just like her daddy in that.

[agitoforestart]

Assorted Agitoola sketches from 2023 and 2021

[creationverseblog]

🤍Jalek's First Encounter🩵

I thought I might make this since I ship these two together from the very beginning when I created them. Especially since Alek's voice is Agito from Origin Spirits of the past. Plus, I just love the movie very much! ^^

Alek - Agito

Jamie - Toola

[origin-spirits-of-the-past]

I’ve finished a steven universe rewatch and I noticed, Lapis is honestly a lot like Toola. And i’m not just talking about superficial similarities like these:

But how every lyric of the song That Distant Shore fits Toola really well too, how the episode Same Old World has Lapis basically experiencing the same conflict “I don’t know if I want to stay here, I don’t feel like I belong anywhere.” And Steven saying that he thinks that in time she’ll come to love it on Earth. The same sentiment Agito expresses to Toola when he tries to comfort her.

The trauma of being trapped alone for ages and the world you left being vastly different than the world you wake in, though Toola was in cryosleep and Lapis was trapped in the mirror. They were both freed from said confinement by someone compassionate who didn’t quiet understand who he found, but was determined to be her friend regardless.

For Lapis- homeworld still exists, but it’s so different that she no longer belongs vs Toola whose past - whose whole world is gone, and both have to move on from this heavy loss. Even after Lapis begins living on Earth in the barn, she eventually runs away again, fearing that everything will be taken from her. She hides out on the moon until Steven comes to find her. And still she continues to run.

Like hello who does that sound like????

“If I go back now, things won’t ever be like they were before.”

“Yeah but that’s ok! They’d just be different.”

[agitowarrioroftheforest]

If I had a nickel for everytime a sweet compassionate guy with plant powers, who wears a crop top binder and fell for a girl who is really traumatized and falling down her father’s footsteps, her dad is responsible for many war crimes, I’d have two nickels, which is not a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice.

(They both also have a connection to a specific flower. One is canonically trans and the other is possibly a trans allegory)

[yinyuedijun]

kitsune!suo x fem reader | feudal japan au

→ notes for an au set in feudal japan, featuring supernatural creatures and spirits (e.g., youkai). suo is a kitsune, sakura is a nekomata, and nirei is an onmyouji. → see this post for backstory on the bofurin trio (recommended background reading)

note: most information on kitsune-mochi were sourced from folkorist lafcadio hearn's accounts of traveling in japan (c.1901). I did, of course, also take creative license with some of the lore.

reader | kitsune-mochi (fox-employing witch)

→ as a kitsune-mochi, you are a human who has entered a contract with a fox spirit to care for it in exchange for having it lend you its power and carry out your requests. → in your case, your familiar is suo, a nine-tailed kitsune that lost his hoshi no tama. → most witches employ kitsune for the purpose of carrying out malicious acts, like having the fox spirit possess their enemies, steal the wealth of other people, etc. you, however, rely on suo and his power in order to perform exorcisms and exterminate demons—something that you cannot do on your own because you have no innate spiritual talents yourself.

→ although a convenient source of power, these deals are typically risky for the contract holder. you are expected to care for suo for the rest of your life, and any descendants you might have would be cursed to serve him as well. kitsune-mochi are heavily ostracized by human society as well, so if this relationship of yours were to be discovered, then your entire bloodline would suffer. → additionally, these contracts typically favour the kitsune, as they are the ones who define what it means to be "cared for", and may request dangerous or unreasonable tasks. → fortunately for you, suo is not a very demanding familiar! the most basic act of caring for a fox spirit is feeding it, and he's more or less happy with anything you make, though he especially likes tea, wagashi, or dishes with aburaage. this is more or less all he asks of you! → suo's disposition is generally so patient and gentle that you nearly disbelieved that he was a youkai. you were convinced for a while that he was actually a messenger of god who was lying to you about his identity for some reason. (at the very least, you'd noticed that he had a habit of lying to people generally, though this was an unsurprising trait for a fox and it was usually harmless fun.) → this perception of him was shattered when you saw him fight a youkai that seriously injured you. he spent an uncomfortable amount of time toying with it in a distinctly humiliating fashion before finally putting it out of its misery. it was only in that moment that you realised that you'd signed yourself and all of your descendants up for serving a literal demon 👍

→ warning: immortal/human relationship, immortal deity meets reader as a child but doesn't get to know or grow close to them until they're an adult

your backstory with suo

→ at a very young age, you were adopted and raised by a priestess of an inari shrine belonging to a small mountain village. consequently, you developed a deep respect for the kami and affection for foxes. → as a child, you once found a one-eyed, wild fox in a near-death state. this was suo after he lost his hoshi no tama in a battle with a demon—but to you, he just looked like a regular animal. most people would have let this creature die peacefully, but you were adamant on nursing it back to health. while caring for him, you named him mr. adzuki because of the colour of his fur, which suo finds incredibly funny to this day. → suo disappeared after recovering, never making his true identity known. however, out of gratitude toward you and the priestesses for allowing him refuge, he decided to act as the guardian spirit of the village, protecting it until the end of your life. → conveniently, this meant that suo got to eat all the offerings given to inari's messengers at your shrine, as well as allowing him to gain power from the prayers directed toward him. (inari himself seemed not to mind, as no actual fox messengers showed up to throw hands with suo.)

image: gashadokuro, a youkai made from the skulls of humans who died in battle.

→ although your village was peaceful throughout your childhood due to suo's protection, in your adult years, a violent conflict between humans and demons broke out in your mountain range. this resulted in the destruction of nearly all its towns and the brutal deaths of your fellow villagers. suo, not at full power, was unable to stop this, but made it his goal to save you from the carnage. → after allowing you time to grieve your loved ones, suo—still considering himself indebted to you—asked what you would like to do next. he offered you wealth, status, and other material things, but none of these appealed to you. → recognising that the mountains you grew up in would be plagued by malevolent spirits and demons for centuries after all the bloodshed that just occurred, you asked suo to teach you jujutsu. your goal was to exorcise all the vengeful spirits, exterminate the demons, and purify the mountain range so that its villages could peacefully rebuild. → given your lack of innate spiritual abilities, suo suggested that you make a pact with him and become a kitsune-mochi to acquire powers. not wanting to deceive you, however, he fully explained how dangerous it might be to enter such a relationship, and warned you not to trust fox youkai like himself.

→ nevertheless, you accepted his offer and became a witch.

image: sakura irl

meeting sakura & nirei

→ you and suo thus embark on this crazy mission to purify the entire mountain range. while you are more than capable of exorcisms and exterminations, your spiritual abilities (one of a youkai) do not allow you to purify the land. → but that's okay, because nirei and sakura have been traversing these same mountains to exorcise and hunt demons! being an onmyouji, nirei can perform all kinds of purification rituals. when you inevitably run into the two of them, and suo suggests that you all work together. → nirei is more than happy to help you purify the mountain range (because he is a good-hearted person, and also because he usually gets assignments there anyway). he improves his jujutsu under suo's tutelage, and he gets insights on kitsune that he'd otherwise never learn (it's rare for an onmyouji to meet a kitsune-mochi unless it's to prosecute them for some kind of crime, and it's just plain hard to meet and talk with a nine-tailed fox spirit). → sakura is a harder sell. he doesn't trust suo at all at the start, and he trusts him even less when he finds out that he's a kitsune and has been lying egregiously to him. (sakura and nirei spent an entire month thinking that suo was a traveling tea merchant from china and being fed severe misinformation about the entire country.) → however, sakura is very curious about you, because you're the first human he's ever met who has a mutual and trusting relationship with a demon, which he didn't think was possible beyond weirdos like nirei. → you also aren't afraid of him at all even after seeing his nekomata form, which gives him complicated feelings. he reasons that this is because you've fought too many demons to be afraid of any of them, but the actual truth is just that you find suo incredibly scary, and sakura feels harmless and adorable in comparison </3 → sakura deeply enjoys the act of helping the mountain towns and being accepted by their communities, though he's very shy about admitting it! eventually, he does "resign" to joining you in a long-term arrangement, and the four of you take on the endless mission of exorcising and cleansing the mountain range together. it's a very "monster of the week" type of set-up hehe

→ although the work of purifying the mountain range will likely take the rest of your life (and probably will require generations after you), suo often asks you what you would like to do after the work is complete—so that he can think of ways to grant your request. → you decide not to tell him this, but your wish would be to return to your old village grounds and rebuild the shrine that you grew up in. rather than just inari, you would also dedicate it to the worship of the one-eyed fox spirit that once protected your village.

[kuni-is-daddy]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT (new anon here btw :3)

summoner!y/n summons a demon, that demon being scara but he was a very… lustful demon and had needs for his own, using y/n as his own personal pet >_<

DOM!Demon Scara X Summoner Female Reader

//HI ANON. WELCOME TO THE SCARANATION I HOPE U ENJOY UR STAY♥️

ScaramoucheMasterList

word count: 1.67k(150 follower special ♥️)

Featuring: A mention of chongyun,xiao and Kujou sara.

Warning: Scara horni. ((Teasing,Blowjb,M/press,Biting, aftercare.))

MINORS AND UNDERAGED BLOGS/USERS THIS IS NSFW CONTENT! PLEASE DONT INTERACT BEYOND THE CUT.

A cycle, That is what you would call your life once you moved from inazuma at a young age and became the strongest summoner in teyvat. Waking up in your house by guili plains to be greeted by your younger friend, Exorcist Chongyun at the door. He was a good kid and even saw you as his idol despite being in rival clans. Summoners had demon familiars. And would lead exorcists and even the lone yaksha of guili plains to exterminate the corruption deep within liyue. You wore a similar outfit to him with opposing colors. A white embroided hoodie with dark blue aligned the stitches, a black undershirt and skirt, separated by a silver belt holding your vision and trinkets to sedate demons; leading down to your stockings and boots. Wake up, summon spirits to kill, Run errands for the higher ups, train and sleep. So, you had a plan, Rebellion. All you needed was shouki no kami. The first descendant of the raiden gakoden who was sealed by his own creator. He was known for mediocre things; giving wishes or killing those that the summoner wanted dead. Only for a small price..

After moving all of the belongings out to the living room you stood in your empty room infront of the tri electro symbol made of chalk as lightning struck from the outside. The only thing remaining was your made bed and backpack. Along each side of the tri electro symbol laid 3 'artifacts' Each one representing the three betrayals he once suffered. The first was a figure of the almighty narukami ogoshu, something you had plenty of thanks to your distant friend kujou sara. The second was a blade crafted by a swordsmith from tartarsuna. The 3rd was a doll representing a young male child. As a summoner it was against your sworn oath to ever summon a demon for evil. But it didn't matter, with this new life shouki no kami would give you there'd be no need to turn back.

With a deep breath you began the chant and closed your eyes. "Oh everlasting arcane demon of wisdom I summon you forth with the 3 artifacts of your betrayals. Please bestow your divine gaze upon me." With the last word leaving your lips the world fell silent, not a single drop of rain poured down your cracked window and remained suspended with the rays of lightening as if all time stopped. It was ominous and different from you previous summons. Painfully silent with your rushing heartrate in your ear as the only comfort. You opened your eyes at the disturbance and looked at the ritual. 'The offerings are missing..So it worked.' you began to take a step to observe your surroundings when a timid yet soothing voice echo'd from behind you.

"Another human asking for my help. Hah, to think such a self righteous species would run to a demon." You turned to face the demon, falling into his enticing gaze as if it was the abyss itself as he sat on your bed, legs crossed and head resting against his fist on your headboard. The demon had a beautiful face, indigo hair that covered his ears and slashed against the blood red eyeliner. His horns we'rent too big and neither was his black tail with a heart shaped tip. "I'll make this easy for you, im not in a good mood. So dont waste my time." you blinked out of his capitvating gaze and remembered why you summoned him. "S-sorry. Im a summoner and my name is y/n. I..Want a new life." The demon raised an eyebrow "Y/n.. Now thats a surprise." He looked you up and down, examining your appearance. It really was you. Same face, same vision and the same beautiful body.. The demon smirked. "uhm..Do you know me?" you replied "Tsk, who doesnt? 'y/n, the savior of liyue and summoner of demons." He mocked. "Alot of people want you dead, you know that?" your heart sunk at his words. "D-dead.. why?" "Dunno. But if it we're me, come one. Come all id say." Shouki no kami left you in shock. You've already thought this 'destined' life of yours was a burden. But others didn't even want you to live it any longer. Your stomach began to turn a the thought, covering your mouth from nausea.

"But would you look at that, I finally got to see this pathetic world's strongest." He smiled, watching as you covered your mouth in disgust. "Pft- Don't tell me you'd really believe everything I said just like that? I'm a demon, I could be lying to you~" he teased, but you we're to caught up in his words, if they wanted you dead.. why did he refuse and kill them instead? Looking back at the demon, he seemed unbothered.. intrigued actually. It began creeping you out more then the thought of having a unknown target over your head for so long. The way he looked at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes during the subtle silence of your nervous breathing to the way his tail would sway when you told him your name... 'So.. a new life. That's what you want?' No kami unproped his legs, hitting his heel on your bag. Interested, He looked back at you again still stuck in a shocked daze and turned back to it. Picking it up as his black nails tugged at the zipper, revealing the many cursed tools, a sigil of permission and even the picture of him you used for the ritual. He took out the ripped paper. 'Shouki no kami, scaramouche: The prodigal.' "WAIT- dont touch that!" you snatched the bag from his hand, letting out a relieved sigh. "T-theres all kinds of things in there that could hurt you...and why are you even going through my stuff?!" you said defensively. "Hurt me? you think those little toys in there would have an effect on me." he revealed the sigil of permission in his hand, flinging it around like a human feeding a dog while sticking out his tongue. You angerly placed the bag down, climbing onto your bed and trying to take back the sigil.

Scara relished in your attempts to take it, your skirt brushed against his shorts while the fingertips of your smooth left hand grazed along his ripped black shirt. The closer you got to the demon, the more you smelled a metaled tint coming from him. The small droplets of blood oozing onto your hand. He would never let someone be ontop of him, nor have him in a view of submission but compared to the past summoners who he's killed. You've been the only interesting one and ontop of that..The strongest. The demon licked at his fangs, slowly bucking his hips up against your lower body. But with his guard down you snatched the sigil back and tucked it ontop of the dresser. Relaxed by Leaning back and sitting on the demons clothed length. This is the life you wanted, peaceful with no worrys of who killed who and what to summon, ironically for a split second this demon gave you that life. "How childish, the strongest summoner chasing after a sigil like a cat." "T-thats not the point.. Stop acting funny and give me my wish!" 'brat' You insisted as your body passively grinded against him. "A new life, Is that all you truly want?" He flicked his free hand as a spark of electro glowed Infront of your face. It was enticing, you already we're told people wanted you dead so what more did you have to lose. "Y-yes! I want it..please Shouki no kami." your fingers dug into the demons shirt. His cock twitched at the way you pleaded for his blessing, over something so stupid as a 'new life' he knew more then anyone the divine dont mind playing cruel tricks on its prisoners.

----Smut

"Then get on your knees." The words left his smooth lips as his tail trailed to your leg, feeling against the texture of your stockings. Making you jolt up a little from the sensation. "E-excuse me?!" "You fucking heard me. Get on your knees and show me how bad you want this life." It was threatening, with no hesitation you quickly rose off of the demon as he began propping himself up just as you first saw him only his legs we're spread and eyes filled with lust. You looked back at the sigil only for scara to grab you by your hair to have you face directly at his pained boner. "To think the strongest would be more focused on a useless thing like this instead of me." He jerked your head again, "Now tell me, y/n. How bad do you want this life?" "M-more then anything shouki no kami! Please." He chuckled, "Anything huh?" "Y-yes shouki no-" He sucked his teeth. "Scara, call me scara." "O-okay scara..Please take my blood and-" He cut you off, "blood? You think i need your blood for this?" you nodded, "No, brat. I have something better for me and you." His black painted nails disappeared into his pants, slowly revealing the tip of his length then the rest of his cock. You gulped, From your position his size looked bigger then your whole head. No..you we're sure it was bigger. "Be a good girl and make me feel good, Maybe then i'll give it too you." He brushed the tip near your face.

Reluctantly, you licked your lips the trailed your tongue around the tip while the demon did nothing but stare at you as he held your hair, Unamused. "More. Do you not know how to suck a cock?" Your heart raced as he tightened his grip along your hair. It was humiliating with your title to be down on a demon like this and you we're sure the pervert was getting off to it. His length entered your mouth. "hng..Shit your so warm." You began bobbing your head up and down slowly, Adjusting to his size. "Fuck..Thats it..Go faster." He bucked his hips up into your face, Hitting the back of your throat as you desperately avoided gagging. "Fuck...faster. Be a good pet and make master feel good" You shifted your free hand down and under your skirt. Tending the sudden wetness inbetween your legs. Scara ran his hand through his hair, watching your hand trail down to your skirt. "Oh yeah? Is my pet getting off to this? How- Hng..Fucking pathetic.." his tail trailed against your hoodie and back to your neck. nudging against you more to take him deeper. "Fuck yes..Masters close, swallow it all pet- Ah swallow it~" He tugged his hand on your hair again, Pressing you up and down on his cock balls deep as he reached his high. Your eyes began rolling back as you choked on his length, tears streaming down your cheeks and Gripping your hand onto his thigh from his aggression while your other toy'd with your clit. With a loud groan his hot fluid rushed down your throat making you see stars as he pulled your head off his length. "Ngh...shit..Such a good pet..Who would've thought the great y/n would-" "P-please sca-master can i have my wish now?" he tilted his head at your request. Oh right.. you did ask for a new life. "Sure pet~ Get on the bed." you whined from his words "M-master~ please i-" He picked you up, slamming you onto the bed face down. squishing your head onto the pillow while jerking your hips up and ass near his cock. Your skirt poofed up, revealing your now ripped stockings near your private parts. Scara's fangs we're aching to just sink his teeth into your thighs or any part of your body but you we're the strongest after all, he didnt take that forgranted. The second he let his guard down again you'd most likely try to take advantage.

He trailed his hand under your skirt, while the other brushed your hips closer to his cock. All you could do was hug the pillow through your muffled pleads. "M-master! Please- wait- d-dont touch their its-" "Wet? Hah..I know pet~ you want this cock so bad dont you?" He ripped your stockings and skirt off and began stroking at his length before entering. Even slapping at your ass just to laugh at you jolting from it. "This...is going to be your new life pet~" In a blink he shoved his entire length inside you. "S-scara! Wait ah~ i-its too big!" He leaned down, grabbing and choking you from the back of your neck. "AH~ Mahster~ I-i cant~ Please~" He grew irritated at your pleads. "Shh..You'll be fine pet. Now be good f' me and take it~ fuck.." the sound of skin slapping and your headboard creeking echo'd across the room as scara groaned and even let out higher pitched moans from how good you we're taking him. "Thats it..Just like that.. Im gonna fucking cum inside you for being such a good girl. The strongest- Hah~ fucking summoner crying for me. Fuck yes~" He let go of your throat, as you panted and drooled on the pillow from his now faster pace. "Master~ AH~ Y-your going to fast! I- m' close!" "Fuck yeah your gonna squirt f' me? Do it y/n~ Cum all over my cock and ill give it to you~ Hah.. Ill give you what you fucking want~" A chord struck in you, and for the next couple of seconds it felt as if your mind turned to mush while you sunk into the pillow, panting from the juices that escaped onto his length. Scara couldnt help himself anylonger, He flipped you over onto your back then pulled his pants completely off as you still held onto the pillow in shock. Folding your legs onto his shoulders and pounding into you in a mating press. "Hiding behind a- ah~ pillow now? Tsk- you really are pathethic-" He tossed the pillow onto the floor and sunk his head into your neck. "Mahster! AH MASTER T'TO MUCH~ SCARA-" He sunk his fangs into your neck. Making you moan out and grab onto his horns from the shock wave of pain and pleasure. He came instantly from your grip and passive stroking on his horns. Painting your walls white with his sticky load. He pulled away from your neck after noticing your sudden rested breathing. 'She passed out' he thought. Scoffing, he licked up clean the small amount of blood from your neck. Leaving his electro symbol in replace of the healing bitemark. Scara didnt know what came over him, But his tail shifted towards the palm of your hand as if it had a mind of its own. Your too precious.

'To think id be setting up a bath for another human.' in a few quick teleports you we're in your tub surrounded by bubbles and a sweet smell of your soap. Your eyelashes fluttered from the water and vivid sight of the demon. "Tsk. Do all summoners have such a messy living room?" "S-sorry..Does that mean i get my wish now?" the demon wiped a lather of soap on your chest while admiring the size of your breasts. "Your still obsessed over that? Hmm..." "I-it is your job as a demon isnt it? To grant wishes. Or at least for you-" he smirked at your reply. "Clever arent you? Well..The situations changed since you've never specified what you wanted in this 'new life.' Your going to be my personal fu- pet. In exchange, I'll...Tag along with you. I want to see how strong the 'savior of teyvat' really is.."

In that moment you wanted to burry your head under the soapy water but all you did was let out a heavy sigh and sink Into the touch of him resting behind you, coating your skin in soap. Scara was right, the divine have cruel ways of playing tricks on its prisoners. But maybe..just maybe.. you we're both a blessing in disguise for each other.

THANK YOU FOR READING :)

[seraph-starman]

ghibli night!₊˚✧ ﾟ

summary: watching studio ghibli with team free will <3

✮//dean winchester x reader, sam winchester x reader, castiel x reader, fluff, platonic or romantic

A/N: not super proud of this because it was rushed, anyways this is self-indulgent 😌

Dean:

•has canonically watched my neighbor totoro

•i’d even go as far to say he’s watched all the ghibli movies

•pretends that he doesn’t like them, until he finds out that you like them too

•then he gets so excited about movie nights

•his favorite is probably howl’s moving castle (the whole thing is about self-esteem and i think dean struggles with that a bit)

•he has all the essential movie night supplies, he takes it so seriously

Sam:

•he’s probably only seen a few scenes from when dean is watching them

•but he’ll sit down and watch them with you

•he likes spirited away (ghosts! a brave, lonely kid who has to deal with ghosts! sam’s upbringing??)

•hardly shuts up when you’re watching because he’ll name out all the supernatural entities and attached is a whole wikipedia page of lore

• “i think that’s a kami… a japanese shinto spirit, they’re manifestations of the world’s energy. they’re not actually in our world though, a kind of mirror version of it called shinkai-“

• “thank you sam. just watch the movie please.”

Castiel:

•has no idea what you’re talking about, but is open to it because you seem interested

•asks questions the whole time

• “why is the father not watching his children?” (my neighbor totoro)

•it’s hard to tell if he likes them or not

•but he does!! he finds them a bit strange, but also endearing

•cas likes my neighbor totoro the most after he gets over the technicalities

written by me, @moose-code, reblogs and comments are appreciated but not pressured <3

[mytheoristavenue]

SE Spirit Albarn x Reader 🍋 - Love By The Hour

Kinktober 2024 - VI

Prostitution + Fully Clothed

Summary: You aren't making enough as a hostess at Chupa Cabra's so you decide to give your favorite customer a discreet treat in exchange for an extra hefty tip.

Warnings: Prostitution, protected sex, sub!Spirit, soft dom!Reader, fem!Reader, slight angst, soft sex, mentions of Kami/Maka, super fluffy ending, fully clothed, riding, intoxication

You sighed, leaning further on the bar. "Has it been this slow all day?" You complain to the bartender. He nodded in response, wiping down the countr. "Any reservations?" He shook his head. "Can I get my shift drink?"

"What do you want?" He sighed, rolling his eyes. You grinned, leaning over.

"You're the sweetest! Can I get..." You thought for a moment. "Sangria?" To your delight, he turned around and went to work. Beside you, Blair slid onto the barstool to your left.

"It's been so dead today..." She whined, leaning on your arm. "But at least I've gotten a few clients, you've been here for how long?"

"Three hours," You groaned. "And not a single one."

"Well," She smiled up at you. "You can have the next one, 'kay?"

You softened, taking your drink from the bartender. "Thanks, girl, you're the best."

"Besides, you never know. Your luck could change." She giggled, ear flicking as a mischevious grin cracked across her face. "Maka told me she got into another fight with her dad. You know what that means..."

"Death Scythe! Of course!" You laughed, the idea sparking your enthusiasm. "He always spends loads of money when he comes in!"

"And he always comes in after a fight with Maka." Blair adds with a giggle.

"What time is it?" You asked rhetorically, glancing at the wall clock. "Four thirty, school just let out. He's probably on his way right now!"

As if on cue, the doorbell chimed, signaling the entrance of a customer, interrupting the victorious fit of giggles you and your coworker were sharing. "Death Scythe!" You both cheered, hopping down from the barstool to greet him.

You couldn't help but notice how downtrodden he looked. It must have been a nasty spat, you realized, beginning to feel a bit bad for what you were about to do. "Hey, girls," He smiled softly, a stark contrast from the lovesick expression he usually wore.

"How's little Maka doing?" Blair asked, clinging to him affectionately. You frowned at her familiarity with him. He was your client, not hers. You quickly shook off the envy, hugging close to his arm, laying on the charm thick. But he hardly noticed.

"I was actually hoping to ask you the same thing." He confessed sheepishly, tucking a strand of rusty hair behind his ear. "She uh... won't talk to me."

You finally got the hint. He wasn't here to drown his sorrows in alcohol and attention for once. He simply wanted to talk to Blair since she lives with his daughter. Bitterly, you retracted yourself, sitting back down at the bar, pouting.

You idly listened to their chatter when suddenly, your colleague piped up with an idea. "Oh, I got it!" She chirped, looking over at you with a wink over her shoulder. "I'll go home and talk to Maka and see if she'll talk to me about it, then I can tell you how to make her feel better!" She suggested cheerily. "In the meantime, you can stay here and destress from such a hard day! That way, when you talk to Maka, you're all relaxed!"

He appeared to be considering it, replenishing your hope as you spied on the pair. Suddenly, sky-colored eyes flickered over to yours as he caught you staring. Your face flushed and you quickly shifted your gaze to your glass as you stirred the crimson liquid in it. "And my friend (Y/N) here is so excited to sit with you!" Blair beamed, leaning close to whisper in his ear. "Between you and me, I think she has a bit of a crush on you!"

With that, the deal was sealed and you didn't miss the tinge of pink on his cheeks. You quickly pulled him over to your cubical, taking his drink order. You made sure to catch Blair on her way out to thank her for being such a great friend when you went back to the bar.

When you brought his beer back, you couldn't help but notice how depressed he still looked, though he quickly hid his melancholy when you set the glass down in front of him, stepping over his legs to sit beside him. "Somethin' on your mind, Mr. Sycthe?" You cooed, laying your head on his shoulder.

He chuckled a bit at the name, sighing as he nervously fiddled with the end of his tie. You'd never seen a side of him that was timid, so you worried a bit that he didn't like you, and might request a different hostess. "You uh-" He swallowed dryly, peering up at you with a sheepish smile. "You don't have to call me Death Scythe, that's just my title at work." You blinked up at him. You knew at some level that, surely, he wasn't born with that name, but the fact that he had another one never actually crossed your mind. Blair had never called him by anything else, and you are relatively new to this club, so this was the first time you were serving him one on one.

"What would you prefer I call you?" You ask sweetly into his ear.

"Spirit," He answered with a small smile. "Spirit Albarn, that's my name."

"I love that name..." You soothed, tangling your fingers in his hair. "Spirit..." You repeated, and unbeknownst to you, it melted his insides the way his name sounded coming from your painted lips. "Well, Spirit, penny for your thoughts?"

He sighed, shivering a bight as you played with his flowy locks. "It's uh... my ex wife." He admitted with an exhausted sigh. "My daughter's birthday is next month and she was supposed to visit her but..."

"But...?" You pressed, leaning forward and grabbing his glass for him.

"She called me this morning and told me there's no way she'll make it. Too busy, she says." His words tugged at your heartstrings a bit.

"Maka's your daughter, right?" You ask, sympathetically. He hummed approvingly. "Well... I don't know anything about her or you or your ex but... from what Blair's told me, she's a wonderful little girl." You offered softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. "And if your ex's been absent for a while, then that means the person she is now is a product of your influence..."

Spirit's head hung low and his breathing hitched a few times, making you panic a bit. Your job was to make him feel better, not worse! "I-I'm sorry, I never have been the best at consoling people..." You stammer nervously. Suddenly, you froze when his hand dropped on your knee, soft and warm.

"No, no, you're so sweet, don't think that." He flashed you a sad smile and blinked away a few tears. "It's me, I'm just a mess."

"No, you're not..." You sighed, beginning to lose hope of making any money off him. But a part of you didn't mind, despite your rent recently increasing and being in dire need of the income. You could recognize when a human needed a human. "Nobody's perfect but, you love her, don't you?"

"More than anything," He answered in a somber laugh.

"And you take care of her? Keep her fed and housed, keep her as happy as she'll let you? You're there when she needs you?" You ask with a bit more fire than you meant to.

"Always," He confirmed again.

"Then that's all you can do." You smile reassuringly. "Teenage girls can be so complicated, she might have to decide for herself to come around but... I know she will with a father as amazing as you."

If he wasn't falling for you already, he definitely was now. Sweet, doting, passionate, not to mention gorgeous- how could he possibly resist? "Do you have kids?" He asked before he could stop himself.

You softened, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "No, but if I had a husband like you and a daughter like Maka, I'd never want for anything else." That wasn't entirely true. You were well aware of why he was in hot water, and you didn't blame his ex at all for filing for divorce. But business was business, and that was what he needed to hear at the time.

Finally, you had him wrapped around your finger, back to his silly, lovesick self, which relieved you a bit. Not only were you assured he liked you enough to stick with you as his hostess, but now you could clean him out without feeling guilty. Suddenly, a devious idea struck your mind. "Spirit, you're not a buy guy, you're just lonely, arent you?"

"Yeah..." He muttered, pulling you close, burying his face into your neck as the half a glass of beer he'd already had began to loosen him up.

"I don't usually offer this to my clients but..." You coo, petting his hair softly. "Blair was right, I do have a little crush on you..."

"What is it?" He asked and you smirked, knowing you had him on the hook. "Anything, I'll pay whatevcer."

"How would you like to..." You cup your hand around his ear, whispering conspiritorily as if sharing a secret.

"H-Here?!" He whisper-yelled back, obviously flustered, even more so when you simply smirked and nodded, pressing your finger to his lips.

"But we have to be discreet, we'll get in trouble if we're caught..." You teasingly batted your lashes. "Just tip me extra well, m'kay? So...?"

"Y-Yes!"

-----

"A-Are...you sure about this?" His breath fell out of his lips, heavy against the shell of your ear as you shifted in his lap, hiking up the skirt of your cocktail dress.

"You got cold feet?" You giggled as he rolled a condom onto his hard-on, hissing at the sensation of stroking it through the rubber.

"N-No," He murmured meekly, resting his hands on either side of him. "I want it so bad, it's been so long."

You softened a bit at his candidness, pulling your panties to the side, reaching between your legs to guide him in. You could feel him tense when you playfully rubbed his covered tip over your slick core before alligning him and sitting on hit fully.

"Oh shit..." He sighed against the back of your neck, forehead resting against your back. "So tight 'n warm..."

His pleased whispers made your stomach stir as you adjusted to him. He filled you perfectly, which you hadn't expected. "Mmm... baby, you feel so good..." You breathed, rolling your hips languidly in a way that made his heart skip a beat. You could feel his hands immediately grip your hips, stilling you.

"F-Fuck, not like that-" He begged, breath ragged in your hair. "I-I'll cum so fast, you don't even know..."

"That's the point, isn't it?" You giggled, prying his hands from your hips and guiding them upwards to your breasts. He gladly took the bait, groaning into your shoulder blade, pressing kisses to the bare skin there as he groped you needily. Despite his protests, you continued to lazily grind your hips into his not even allowing your thighs to leave his with how shallow you were going.

You'd never seen a man so deprived that he'd go so wild for anything less than a bounce, but here he was, coming undone beneath you with just the slightest friction. You couldn't wrap your head around it. But to him, there was a very specific reason.

You began to grow concerned when you felt his tears wet your spine. He was still slowly thrusting up into you, matching your subdued pace, so what could be the matter? "You okay back there?" You asked in a breathy whimper as his tip pressed into your cervix.

"Y-You feel just like my wife..." He sobbed lightly into your hair, brain fogged by alcohol, sorrow, and lust. His words made your blood run cold, especially when you noticed the lack of the prefix 'ex'.

"Oh, baby..." You softened, wondering if you should stop, but his insistent humping convinced you not to. You felt a bit cheap, being a stand-in for who he really wanted, but then again, you were using him for money, so you couldn't complain.

"F-Fucked her just like this that night..." He rasped, abandoning the distraction of playing with your breasts in favor of fully hugging you from behind, squeezing tightly. "T-The night she got pregnant."

That's when you finally understood. He was reenacting how his daughter was conceived- but with you instead of her mother. A part of you felt increadibly special to be the one to help him relive what must hae been such a wonderful moment, but another part of you felt uncomfortable for how emotionally invested he was in you, over a cash grab no less.

"P-Please cum for me, baby..." He begged, swallowing hard as he rocked into you with such care. "P-Please, I'll do anything..."

Without hesitation, you reached between your legs, digging your fingers into your tightly closed legs, rubbing tight, unsatisfactory circles on your clit. To your surprise, his feet separated your ankles, forcing them apart to give you more space. You dropped your head back against his shoulder, fingers moving more insistently as he took over thrusting into you solely.

With this arrangement, you both were doomed to finishing fast, your cubical full of heavy breaths and the sound of shifting fabric. "C'mon, please, please..." He pled, eyes squeezed shut, only opening them to let them roll back into his head.

"A-Ahh... Spirit, just like that..." There was his name again, sang so sweetly from the lips of an angel, he was certain.

"S-Say it again, say my name, please..." He begged, voice cracking with need. "Oh, fuck, I'm so close..."

"C-Cum with me, Spirit, please..." You wept so sweetly, beginning to climb to the summit.

As if on command, he finally gripped your hips, fucking into you with sloppy, shallow strokes, drunk on how his name dripped from your lips, coated in praise. You could feel his seed spurt into the condom, warming it against your gummy walls as you constricted him, finally capturing your own high. "S-Spirit, a-ahh! Y-Yes, cum with me, oh fuck..."

After catching your breath, you lifted off him, unceremoniously readjusting your soaked panties and shimmying your dress back down while he carefully slid the condom off, making sure not to spill its contents. He tucked himself back into his slacks, smiling lazily up at you as he rested for a moment, preparing to head out. You tossed the rubber in a small trashcan nearby, reminding yourself to throw out the back before anyone could find it later.

"Thank you..." He sighed, standing up and stepping over to you, affectionately stroking his thumb over your blushed cheek. "How much do I owe you?"

"It's on the house," You sighed, knowing the decision could mean being late on your rent, but you were happy you could help soothe a man down on his luck.

"You're too sweet." He cooed, pressing a kiss to your other cheek. "Think I... could take you out sometime?"

"Sure," You replied with a playful smirk, not taking his offer seriously. He simply smiled peacefully and made his way up to the register to pay out.

Later that evening, after you'd cleaned your cubical, ensuring the evidence of your misdeeds was in the dumpster, you went to collect your tips for the day. Imagine your surprise when you were tipped out an amount that easily rivaled your weekly wage.

"I don't know what you did to that guy," Your manager laughed, handing you the cash from the drawer. "But I've never seen him spend that much. Must really like ya."

"M-Maybe," You smiled nervously, taking the money and hiding it in your purse, silently reminding yourself to call Spirit the next day. He just paid your rent, he deserved a date, at least.

-----

"Honey, did you stop by the store?" You called from the kitchen, removing your wedding room and setting it on the window sill to wash the dishes.

"You know it, pretty mama." Spirit flirted, grocery bag in hand as he hugged you from behind, pinning you to the sink. You rolled your eyes at his antics, breaking away to check the roast in the oven.

"Now you behave. " You warned, taking the bag from him. "Maka and Soul will be over any minute and-" As if to punctuate your statement, the doorbell rang and he waltzed over to answer it. Immediately, Spirit began fawning over his daughter as she stepped through the door, rolling her eyes at his attention.

You couldn't help but melt at the sight, feeling your heart swell at the little family you'd procured. In five short years, you'd gone from working as an entertainer in a scummy club, struggling to keep your head above water, to being the pampered housewife of one of the strongest demon weapons of the present day. You suddenly had a beautiful, intelligent, fiery daughter who adored you as much as she did her biological mother and a very sweet soon-to-be son-in-law who treated her like royalty.

A single tear slipped down your cheek, prompting the father-daughter duo to stop bickering, to check on you. Even Soul glanced up at you from the couch where he'd planted himself immediately after entering, concern written in his crimson eyes. However, what really choked you up was when Maka stepped closer, her big green eyes shining with worry as she asked an unnecessary question. You couldn't wait to reassure her that you were just fine.

"You okay, momma?"

[veronicaphoenix]

the unmaking of a warrior | part eight

Pairing: Ronin!Noah x Princess!Reader Series masterpost here ✨ Word count: 6.4k Tags & trigger warnings: forbidden romance, angst, implied anxiety and panic, descriptions of violence, blood, mentions of death, mentions of gods, mentions of sex, implied sexual scenarios that are not described in detail, cliffhanger.

Additional useful info: - Kami: japanese word for a deity, divinity, or spirit. - Omamori: good luck charm meaning to protect.

THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR 

PART VIII

Noah’s arms immediately seized me by the waist, pulling me back as I fought against him, trying to reach my father. 

“Let me go,” I hissed.

Noah’s hold was strong and firm. I knew it was futile to fight against him. Nevertheless, I couldn’t contain the urge of throwing myself at my father as I saw him approaching so nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t encouraged Noah to kill himself in front of hundreds of people merely three days ago just because he was in love with his daughter.  

“No. You will not solve anything like this,” Noah whispered, keeping his arms locked tightly around me, securing me against his chest as I fought against his restraints. 

His comment just ignited my anger. Noah had just threatened a man with his katana and had liver-shot him until he was on the ground, struggling with his own breath. And now he had the audacity to say that throwing myself at my father wouldn’t solve anything. 

“Daughter,” my father spoke. 

He stopped in his tracks a few yards away from us, his armor shining under the afternoon sun. The Samurai standing at his sides remained frozen but attentive to any move around them. Noah had been one of them seventy-two hours ago. Now he was standing on the other side of the line, where Rei, Maura, and many other residents of the community stood, watching at the scenario threatening to turn into a battle at any time. 

“I see your intentions remain the same,” my father started to say. “By the way he is restraining you, I would say you have turned into more of a savage in a matter of days.” 

I was done being embarrassed at his words, at my mother’s, at Ren’s. I would throw myself like a lioness at anyone that threatened Noah or my future with him. 

“However, I am not here to discuss your behavior,” he continued as Noah tried to disentangle my fingers from his katana. He muttered a forced ‘let go’ against my ear, and I finally relented, my breathing ragged as I remained in his lock. 

Everyone must have thought I looked like a feral cat at that moment, but I couldn’t care less. I hated that my father still chose to talk with such diplomacy, especially with me. I could see now that I was not his daughter anymore. I was just something that had belonged to him, and he was here because, one way or another, he believed that he could take it back and make Noah pay for the mistake of taking me away—as if he had taken me by force.

I had no agency whatsoever in front of my father, or Ren, for that matter. No matter how much I told them Noah hadn’t forced me to do anything just like I hadn’t forced him to do it, either. I didn’t think I would be able to restrain myself if Ren appeared at my father’s side in the next few minutes. I would find the first bow laying nearby and shot him straight through the heart, if he had any. 

“I am here to address the matter at hand,” the Shogun said, his eyes on Noah. “You have eluded me for far too long, Ronin,” he didn’t mean the three days we had spent on the run. He meant all those years Noah found a way to meet his daughter in the dark and make sinful things to her, “but now that we stand here, we must put an end to this situation.”

Noah’s arms fell slowly to my side, taking the katana from my grasp. I felt the heat emanating from his body, but at the loss of his touch, I felt my blood go cold. 

He didn’t deserve any of this. Noah deserved to be laid on a bed, be cherished, loved, let to rest, enjoy a slow day as he pleased. But my father was not ready to give him that. He would never be; that I knew. And the news of him having something to say to Noah, —say, not fight— frightened me. What could he have to say to Noah at this point? What would there be in words that could change how things were?

“You defied me, dishonored me,” he began, each of his words deliberately punctured “dishonored your own family’s name, and worst of all, you tainted my daughter’s name and her body,” it cost him something to say those last words out loud, in front of all that people. He avoided looking at me, but I guessed that the reason why he exposed that was just to throw more shame over me. He actually didn’t care about what Noah had done to my body. What angered him was that I preferred Noah to a life of luxuries and obedience. 

I expected for him to continue, to throw something worse at me and Noah, but his silence was taken as an open door for Noah, who spoke with a calm and confidence that astonished the audience. 

“I am aware of what my actions have caused. I am aware that I should not be here,” he should be dead, “but I am. I am sorry for the pain I have caused you and your family, but my love for your daughter is honest. My loyalty belongs to her now, and always will. I do not regret any of my choices.”

My father didn’t expect Noah to overtly express his feelings and exude such confidence. I saw a muscle in his jaw ticking. 

“That is precisely why I have come to you. I have a proposal,” he announced, raising his voice a higher note. 

All my senses went on high alert. I was still fuming, my heart drumming in my chest, my skin prickling. 

“Here,” he opened his arms, “in this sacred place where you’ve been welcomed and where kami watch over, my authority wanes, but beyond these sanctified borders, my power remains the same. I am the Shogun, and I decide the fate of those like you, who have transgressed written laws. Once you step beyond this place, my warriors shall be poised to reclaim what is rightfully mine. Fear not, Ronin, for you have wielded your blade with unmatched prowess in my service and might perish with admirable skills. However, for her...” his eyes fell on me, “it is a different tale. No matter how much you try to protect her, every time she dares venture beyond these walls, her very existence will be in danger. I perceive the trepidation etched upon your face and the square of your shoulders now, as you envision the dreadful prospect of cradling my daughter’s lifeless form in your arms, the consequence of a momentary slip in your focus.” 

A solemn hush lingered in the air, pregnant with the weight of my father’s threats.

“Reality is grim, indeed,” he continued, his chin raised. “But here is the proposition I came to offer: my life, offered in exchange for yours—and hers,” he declared, his expression resolute, indicating his daughter, me, with a regal gesture. “I extend this challenge to you, Ronin. A duel between the two. A duel to death. Should I defeat you, my daughter will be reclaimed into my kingdom as the princess she is meant to be. Yet, if you emerge victorious, I will allow you and my daughter to live your lives in peace, free from my rule.” 

My retort burst forth unbidden, fueled by the flames of indignation raging within me, incensed by his audacious display of authority and his presumption that he could dictate the course of our fate. He dared to threaten Noah once more, to imperil his own daughter. 

Shame on him. 

“Your proposition holds no sway in this sacred place,” I countered, raising my voice, which caused birds to startle in a nearby tree and fly away. “You cannot desecrate this sanctuary with a conflict that only you want to be a part of,” I declared vehemently, my voice a tempered blade cutting through the air.

“You are right, my daughter. It holds no sway unless he accepts the duel.” 

“He won’t,” I replied fiercely. 

But then, my world fell apart when Noah said, “I accept your challenge.”

A string of murmurs and gasps filled the air.

I turned to him with wide eyes, my heart threatening to escape my chest, my blood turning cold.

“Very well. Let it be done, then,” my father replied.

“No, you can’t do that!” I screamed, taking one step forward to emphasize my words, ignoring the hand from Noah that tried to grasp my wrist. “He can’t do that!” I shouted again, looking at Rei and Maura, expecting them to say that this was not allowed in this place, that it couldn’t happen.

I didn’t like the look of sadness and pity in their eyes.  

“If Noah agrees to the challenge, we can do no more than letting them do.”

“That’s not…” My heart started spinning. “No,” I muttered looking at Noah, my eyes starting to fill with tears at the prospect of what this meant. A life-or-death challenge. Either him or my father. “You can’t do that! You can’t!” I screamed at my father, and when I tried to lunge back at him, two of his Samurai raised their katanas in a cross shape to keep me from reaching him. Noah also managed to grab me by my wrist and pulled me back to him. 

 “Today, at dawn,” my father announced, louder, “we shall meet on the training grounds. May the best warrior prevail.”

With that, he retreated. 

I turned around to face Noah, time seeming to stand still, my throat dry.

“What did you do?” I didn’t recognize my own voice. My entire being was at the mercy of shock and fear. “Noah, what did you just do?”

Around us, the crowd dispersed. If anyone mumbled words of encouragement or sympathy, they didn’t reach my ears, as all my attention was on Noah and the way he looked at me with his beautiful brown eyes; a look that said there had been no other choice. 

But that wasn’t true.

There had been choices. He just hadn’t considered them. He hadn’t considered me, and he had closed a deal that ended with his death or my father’s.

The pounding of my own heart blocked my ears and made me feel dizzy, the scents in the air only intensifying my disorientation.

“It’s the only solution,” Noah said. 

Before I said anything again, I started shaking my head, my eyes watery. I swallowed hard.

“Now it is,” I managed to say, my voice constricted by the lump in my throat. 

If Noah didn’t consider the consequences of his public decision the moment he closed the deal with my father, he did now when he saw my expression. 

Looking around one last time, when we were practically alone in the square and people’s voices were once again filling the space but from a distance, Noah took me by the elbow and directed us both to a more secluded and private place, behind some small houses that seemed uninhabited but neatly tended by the community. 

“I know this scares you, but it’s the only way we can be together and free. Otherwise, your father is always going to be there, just waiting for—”

“You know that?” I asked, cutting him off. “Do you know how scared I am of what you just did? Do you really know, Noah? Because if you do, why did you do it?!” I couldn’t contain my emotions, my heart breaking at the thought of the fate that awaited me when night fell. 

“Don’t cry,” he demanded, but I pushed his hand away from my cheek as soon as he made a move to wipe away my tears. I saw a rush of pain cross his features, but I had no right to succumb to such emotion because he was the cause of such. 

“What else am I supposed to do when the man I love has just given himself to death?”

“That’s not what I’ve done,” he tried to appease me. 

“No, it isn’t. You have made a deal with my father, the Shogun, in which only one of you  will get to see the sun rise tomorrow. If it isn’t you who perishes tonight, it will be my father at your hands. What were you thinking of? You know I would choose you above all things, but I don’t want my father’s death. I don’t want his death at your hands!”

Noah spoke my name softly, his hands again reaching out to touch my skin. I recoiled, my back meeting the wooden wall of the house. 

Noah took a breath of air, his chest swelling as his eyes scanned my expression and as he struggled between what to say and what to do. I knew that expression all too well. It was one that said he was aware of the damage he was causing, but that nothing and no one would change his mind. It was the expression of the martyred and at the same time, the implacable Samurai. 

“He is your father,” he began, “but he was also my teacher. His determination is uncompromising. I know how persistent and ruthless he can be, especially with his enemies.”

And at that moment, Noah was his number one enemy. The one who had stolen the most valuable thing he had: his daughter. 

The hope that had filled me in the preceding twenty-four hours now lay shattered on the ground, fragmenting with each fleeting second. It forced me to confront the unsettling notion that perhaps Noah and I had no future together. Or worse, yet: that our love, so pure and bright, was transient because it may never bear fruit in the form of a family and the adventure of growing old and grey together. 

“He won’t let you win,” I said. Though my tone was soft and low, my desperation echoed in the stillness around us.

Noah’s response was stoic. “You’re underestimating me. I’m the best warrior he’s had since my father perished on the battlefield.”

“Being pretentious won’t help you win, Noah.”

“I’m not being pretentious, or confident. I’m being earnest and practical.”

“My father has thirty years more practice with the sword than you,” I allied, being earnest and practical. “He is the Shogun. He can play dirty, and he will, because he considers your honor lost, so he won’t mind playing without honor against you.”

Noah sensed the pain and fear in me, which consumed me with each passing second. I was so close to accepting an impending tragic future that this time I let him touch me. 

His fingers caressed my chin.

“Baby…”

“Nothing can ensure your victory,” I whispered, “and even if you do win, it will be at the cost of my father’s death at your hands,” my throat dried up as I spoke those words again. 

How had we ended up there? Hadn’t I been able to think about the consequences of running away with Noah from my father’s estate? Was it my place to blame Noah for making that decision when, perhaps, I’d been the one to make a mistake when I ran away with my warrior? 

“There had to be another way to do things. Perhaps between the two of us, we would have found it. I could have talked to my father at another time, under different circumstances, make him understand...” I said, the words escaping quickly from my mouth. I knew well that nothing would have served to convince my father. For his daughter to have fled with one of his soldiers was probably the most dishonorable thing that could happen to the family’s name. But even aware that my chances with my father would have been minimal, I couldn’t conceive the fact that Noah had made such an impulsive decision without even considering me. “But now there’s no turning back,” I said, looking up at him. “You’ve made a life or death deal with my father in which I wasn’t even allowed to say anything about it. In a few hours,” I continued, “it will be my father’s lifeless body lying on those grounds—or yours,” I pointed to the earth with a trembling finger. “I may not agree with my father’s plans for me, with the life that was written for me without allowing me to choose, but that doesn’t mean I want to see him dead. And I certainly don’t want to see you die. How could you accept his challenge without thinking about the consequences? Without considering me? You didn’t even allow me to say a word, Noah! Do you realize what you’ve done?! How you’ve behaved?! Like them; like my father, like my mother. Like Ren.” My voice rose to a fever pitch, resonating in the quietness around us and startling the nearby deer. Noah’s expression fell, realization dawning in his eyes as my words pierced through his resolve. 

“I wouldn’t have accepted if I wasn’t confident in my abilities.”

“You’re the most formidable warrior I’ve ever known. You are my warrior. But I won’t cling to that when your life is at stake. When your life depends on my father’s,” I put a hand to his chest. “As much as I admire the Samurai you are, I will never accept the oath that says you have to give your life for those you serve or love.”

“Listen to me,” Noah said, his tone tinged with sadness and frustration. “Your father will never be okay with you being with me. He will never accept that his daughter chose a ronin over the royal family. If I don’t do this, we can never hope to be together; to be free. How can I ensure your safety outside these walls? You heard him. He threatened you, his daughter. I will not take it.”

“I’m not some helpless maiden, Noah,” I countered fiercely, my spirit rising against his attempts to shield me. “I may be a princess, but I know how to wield a bow and an arrow, and you know damn well how skilled I am with a sword because you taught me. Do not treat me like I’m defenseless.”

“That’s not what I am doing,” Noah insisted, but his words fell short in the face of my mounting fury and pain. 

“Is it not?” I shot back, the sting of betrayal coloring my words. “Was it not when you made your decision in front of everyone, robbing me of any say? Was it not every time you spouted that Samurai bullshit about making your own choices while disregarding mine? It’s not just about you, Noah. It’s about you and me! And I refuse to accept a future where you’re not at my side!” My voice cracked as I pushed against his chest, feeling a rage against him that I had never ever felt before; not with him. Not with my warrior. 

With a trembling sigh and on the verge of giving up, I continued. “But I won’t accept any other future if you take my father’s life, either.” The bitterness in my tone softened, my tear-filled eyes boring into his beautiful brown ones. “How could I bear the touch of the hands that have taken my father’s life?” 

Silence stretched between us.

I made attempt to leave, but he seized my wrist, calling my name once more. 

“I need you to be there, at dawn.”

“Do not ask me to be a witness to either of your deaths.”

I wriggled myself out of his grasp. With a flash of pain and fury crossing my features, I walked away.  

I found myself wandering away and into and open expanse of field where a congregation of deer grazed serenely, bathed in the golden afternoon sun. With trembling hands and tear-stained cheeks, I approached them, drawn by the silent companionship they offered. I tried to feel a sense of calm as I reached out to stroke their fur. They nuzzled against me, and I let out a small teary laugh at their playfulness. 

As they searched for food in my hands and nuzzled me with their muzzles, I pondered the cruel twist of fate that now threatened to tear my world apart. Merely two weeks ago, I had lain on the mattress in my grandmother’s little house, with Noah adoring my body as he entered me over and over, promising to make up for all the nights we’d spent apart. That night felt so distant now. I had so much hope for us back then—even when I had no idea how to escape the tangled situation we were in. 

Now I wondered, was there ever truly a life of peace and freedom awaiting Noah and me, or were we destined to be torn apart, to fulfill the duties imposed by a world constricted by societal structures and rules? 

With each tear that fell, I whispered silent prayers to the heavens, pleading for a reprieve from the tragedy that was about to take place. But as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the meadow, I knew that my fate couldn’t be freed from the resolution of that dawn’s duel to death between my father and the man I loved. 

I went back to the house. 

I couldn’t bear the thought of being out there, enjoying such green scenery, hearing the birds chirp, and watching the deer stroll peacefully, knowing that come nightfall I would either have to deal with my father’s death or return with him to his residence, never to be in Noah’s arms again.  

As my steps brought me closer to what I had thought would be our home for years to come, tears threatened to spill over once more. 

I only allowed myself to cry when I found myself in the temporary comfort of that little house, where Noah and I had woken up in each other’s arms that morning, being interrupted by children’s laughter that one day could have been our own.

Aware that we had only just arrived and things were far from stable, I had allowed myself to believe that the fairy tale I had dreamed of living with Noah since I was a little girl would come true. I envisioned us living in an idyllic place, surrounded by a generous and kind community, doing what we were passionate about. I imagined what it would be like to live together without clinging desperately to the evening hours because Noah would no longer be there in the morning. I pictured us spending hours lying in bed, with Noah between my legs, whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

Standing in the middle of the room, I looked around, taking in the details, and for a moment, I entertained the dreadful thought that all of this was, in fact, temporary, that it had been temporary from the moment we set foot in this place. Anger and sadness took hold of me. When my eyes fell on the bed where Noah and I had spent the night and then on the pile of clothes Rika and her husband, Kenzo, had offered us, I had the urge to tear it all to shreds, to set it on fire.

Instead, I angrily and carelessly tugged at the knots of the dress I was wearing, cursing how delicate Noah had been in tying them and the thoughts he had awakened in me, making me believe we might enjoy a few intimate hours in the coming days, succumbing to each other, my hands bound and my body at his mercy.

I dropped the dress at my feet and wrestled with the remaining clothes on a stool until I found a simple kimono in sweet, delicate colors. I locked myself in the washroom, letting a few more tears fall as I clung tightly to the sink.

I don’t know how long I stood there, Noah’s words replaying in my head, along with my father’s and the consequences of that duel. I thought about the possible outcomes and where they would leave me. Could I forgive Noah if he killed my father? Could I let the same hands, stained with my father’s blood, touch me?

Worse yet... Could I live without Noah?

A sob escaped, filling the silence. I put a hand to my mouth.

By the time I opened the bathroom door to return to the bedroom, my tears had dried. Instead, I wore my heart on my sleeve, and finding Noah in the room only increased my misery. Hanging from one of his arms were pieces of clothing I immediately recognized as a combat suit.

He paused at the sight of me, his expression marked by conflict that quickly turned resolute. He was experiencing a sense of ambivalence that I now understood. On one hand, I felt fear and sadness for the decision he had made, knowing its consequences. On the other hand, after meditating about it, he was right; as much as I despised his decision, it was necessary for our happiness and our future.

He picked up my dress from the floor and placed it carefully on top of a drawer, his actions ever so slow and delicate, as if he weren’t about to spill blood on a battlefield.

“If I could, I would hate you right now,” I said, my voice breaking as I reached the end of the sentence. “But I can’t. Because I only learned the meaning of love when I was with you, and that’s all I’ll ever feel for you.” 

Noah opened his mouth to say something, tilted his head to the side slightly as if my words had just cracked his heart a bit more. 

He extended his free arm towards me and I took his hand. 

I took slow thoughtful steps towards him until I was at arms reach and placed my free hand on his chest, right where his heart was caged by his ribs. 

“I can’t live without you. I understand why you accepted. I do. I understand,” I repeated in his arms, “but I can’t conceive the idea of losing you, of living without you. I feel like everything I’ve done so far—everything I’ve been waiting for, has been to be with you, to grow old with you, and I can’t think that it all could be snatched from my hands in a few hours.” 

His features hardened, but the tenderness in his eyes persisted. 

“I promised myself that I would fight for our freedom until the end of days—but especially yours. I can’t break that promise.” 

My fist clutched the fabric of his shirt. I was angry but I refused to cry again. I gazed at him with my lips pressed tightly together and my jaw firmly set. 

“Make another one,” I demanded. I had no more options. “Promise me that this won’t end as it’s supposed to; that no one will die tonight.” 

He kissed me, his large hands cradling my face, the combat suit dropping to the floor. His kiss was a promise—a vow that his love would defy the laws of this life and surpass the universe. But it didn’t carry the assurance that he would return to me after the combat, or that my father would return to his estate. 

“I love you,” he breathed against my lips. He was warm and strong. He was home.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“It sounds like you’re saying goodbye. Don’t say goodbye. I beg you.”

“I’m not saying goodbye. And even if I were, you and I will meet in the next life, and in the one after that if there is one.”

The sun was setting on one edge of the horizon, casting a golden hue over the training grounds where people gathered, hushing to each other. My father, the Shogun, stood with his katana unsheathed, its blade shimmering like liquid silver on one end of the grounds. Across from him, Noah stood with his own sword, the blade catching the last light of the setting sun.

Onlookers formed a perimeter around the grounds. They murmured, their voices blending with the rustle of the wind. Most whispers were expressions of sympathy for Noah—and for me. Nobody wanted bloodshed in that sacred place, in the sanctuary protected by gods and ancestors. Yet, the presence of my father’s army and Noah’s decision had left no other choice. 

I stood on the left side, flanked by Rika and Milla. Their pity and worry grew with each sideways glance they cast my way, but I couldn’t acknowledge them even if I tried; my focus was solely on Noah. 

Determined not to waste a moment with him, I had walked him by the hand to the training fields once he had changed, his hand exerting pressure on mine. When we arrived, he backed me into a corner, out of sight of the others, and rested his forehead against mine. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he whispered, “I shall return to your side, no matter what the heavens say. I belong to you—you’re the keeper of my heart.” He kissed my cheek quickly, not giving me a chance to respond. Then, he let go and stepped into the battleground.  

Since then, I had blocked out the presence of everyone around me. If I didn’t walk back to the house that night with my hand in Noah’s, then nothing here mattered; no one did. 

I had spent most of my life avoiding the spotlight. As the daughter of the Shogun, expectations had been thrust upon me; I was a princess, and I should act like one. From an early age, my every action was scrutinized and interpreted according to others’ desires. Standing in the training grounds that evening, it felt as though I could never escape that lie. It was suffocating; it felt like a noose tightening around my neck with each passing second. 

Had I been delusional to think that everything would be okay after Noah and I ran away?

Despite the weight of the murmurs and glances directed at me, most eyes were fixed on the two figures standing opposite each other. My father exuded a powerful aura of authority, not because of his prowess as a warrior but because of the position he was born into. Noah, however, stood there because he had earned his place through relentless training and dedication. The determination in his eyes masked his anger and ruthlessness, but it was palpable in his entire stance. His gaze never wavered from my father’s, and I could sense his thoughts racing with the dread of the Shogun taking me back to his estate and forcing me to marry Ren, turning me into the obedient wife I never wanted to be. 

My father’s Samurai stood impassively by his side, like silent sentinels, while on the other side, the members of the community who had so warmly welcomed Noah and me were visibly conflicted. I could hear some murmuring prayers, others discussing the inevitability of the conflict between Noah and me and my father, and a few, touched by the love that had sparked this strife, hoped for Noah’s victory. Rika and Milla stood close to me. When one of them touched my elbow in an attempt to comfort me, I flinched and pulled away.

I was so consumed by fear that I didn’t realize the combat had begun until the clash of steel shattered the night’s stillness. When my focus cleared, I saw my father moving with the precision of someone assured of his power. Noah’s fighting was different from the training sessions I had seen; he fought with a fierce passion, driven by the will to survive and our love. His movements were both fluid and desperate, parrying each attack with the same determination my father had relied on for years, trusting Noah with his life.

How ironic that his best swordsman was the one who could bring him down today.

A growing heaviness filled my chest, and I could barely bear to watch as each clash of their swords echoed through the air. Around us, the wind whispered through the trees, carrying the collective breaths of the spectators and my own.

The outcome of this battle would shape not only my future but the destiny of all who witnessed this clash of love and duty. If Noah fell, my father’s power would increase, but if Noah prevailed, the family’s name and reputation would be forever tarnished. Not that it would matter, for my father would be dead at the hands of the Ronin he despised.

As the duel continued, Noah’s movements became a dance of lethal precision. His katana sliced through the air with a grace that belied the gravity of the conflict. Each strike was deliberate, each parry executed with a finesse honed through years of intense training. I watched in awe and fear as Noah deftly maneuvered around my father’s attacks. Despite his age and experience, my father struggled to match Noah’s agility and mastery of the blade. Noah’s strikes were swift and purposeful, aimed not so much at defeating him but at keeping him at bay. He was trying to hurt him, but not to kill him—while simultaneously fighting to survive.

In a sudden, fluid motion, Noah managed to land a cut on my father’s arm. The Shogun grunted in pain, his face tightening with a mix of fury and surprise. Yet, the battlefield was unforgiving. In a moment of distraction, Noah’s concentration wavered just enough for my father to seize the opportunity. With a lightning-quick maneuver, my father retaliated, landing a deep cut on Noah’s thigh. The blow drew blood, staining Noah’s clothing.

I held my breath, doubts gnawing at me. Despite Noah’s prowess and his love for me driving him forward, my father’s stature as the Shogun and his decades of experience cast a long shadow over my hopes. I had seen my father’s authority and martial skill throughout my life—his disciplined demeanor, his unwavering commitment to tradition. Noah might have been his finest soldier once, but now, my father’s hatred ran deep, fueled by Noah’s betrayal and the loss of honor as a samurai.

My doubts crystallized after what felt like an eternity of relentless combat, the clashing steel and strikes offering no respite to either of them. In a moment of fierce intensity, my father closed the distance with two swift steps. With a precise and brutal strike, his blade sliced deeply into Noah’s chest. The combat suit tore apart, unable to withstand the force of the blow, and blood welled from the wound. Noah’s anguished cry filled the air, echoing in my ears. Drops of blood splattered onto the ground, marking it with the gravity of the duel.

I watched in horror, frozen in place, as Noah staggered back from the impact. His hand instinctively went to his chest, fingers probing the deep gash where his lifeblood flowed freely. The pain etched across his face mirrored my own torment, and his eyes locked briefly with mine, conveying a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness. Across from him, my father stood with a mix of pride and cold fury etched on his features.

A wave of fear and helplessness crashed over me. The sight of Noah wounded, his life slipping away in a crimson stream, was unbearable. Panic seized my chest, constricting my breath as tears welled in my eyes. I knew then that I couldn’t stay and witness the potential end of everything I held dear.

With trembling hands and a heart heavy with dread, I pushed past people. Their murmurs and gasps of shock faded into distant echoes as I fled the scene, unable to confront the reality of Noah’s mortality. Anxiety clawed at my throat, and tears blurred my vision as I stumbled away from the battleground, each step carrying me farther from the agony and despair threatening to consume me.

I didn’t realize I had gone from walking to running, my rapid strides taking me as far as possible from where Noah’s blood stained the ground. Panicked, I glanced around until I spotted the temple perched on the rocky hill overlooking the village.

The path to the temple was steep and winding, each step a battle against exhaustion and despair. My feet stumbled on the uneven stone steps, the pain in my chest matching the ache in my heart.

As I ascended, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the village. The first stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, while an eerie glow fell over the cobblestone streets.

The temple’s silhouette loomed against the fading light. Reaching the entrance, I could almost feel the walls whispering tales of generations past. I pushed open the heavy wooden doors, revealing a cool, musty interior scented with incense and the weight of history. Shafts of dwindling sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, casting fragmented patterns of color across the ancient stone floor. Flickering candles illuminated statues of gods and ancestors, their serene faces watching over me with timeless wisdom.

As soon as I crossed the threshold into the temple, I collapsed to my knees. My sobs blended with the resonant tones of singing bowls, as an elderly woman performed rituals nearby. The tranquility of the temple was disrupted by the torment in my heart. Tears flowed freely, unchecked and raw, as I silently pleaded with the spirits for guidance and strength. The echoes of ancient prayers seemed to fill the air, mingling with the soft murmur of my own desperate pleas.

I felt utterly lost, overwhelmed by the belief that I would never see Noah, the love of my life, again. The thought that my father might kill him on the battlefield was unbearable. Just as despair threatened to consume me, the elderly woman approached quietly. She knelt beside me with a gentle grace and placed a small Omamori in my hand, urging me to hold it. Slightly confused, I watched her through blurry vision.

The old woman then set a Daruma doll beside me, on the floor, its one eye painted in. It was similar to the one my grandmother had given Noah for luck. I recognized the familiar symbol of perseverance and hope.

I closed my eyes, clutching the Omamori tightly. Holding the amulet close, I prayed with all my heart, my fragile thread of faith hoping that somehow, Noah would survive.

Taglist:

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[bcbdrums]

This artist has SO much Spirit and Stein. Worth your time to look if you like either of them.

Also, MY HEART!

[agitoforestart]

Happy pride month 2024! 🏳️‍⚧️💙💜💖

(Very self indulgent art of Agito x Toola with my queer headcanons for them)

Close up

[konigbabe]

the fruits (of my labor)

DAY 4 ⇢ Power Dynamic Pairing: deity!Satoru Gojo x fem!acolyte!reader Word count: 2.5k Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; deity/acolyte dynamic; deepthroat; throatfucking; riding Gojo’s knee; p-in-v; orgasm denial; creampie; dacryphilia; japanese terminology and mythology; religious imaginery; allusions to manipulation and toxicity; inaccurate historical descriptions Summary: He's a deity, yet he's faithless. The only belief he invests in is between your thighs. Satoru Gojo enjoys the fruits of your labor that you've offering him of late. [Part of NSFW Gojo Week 2023.]

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

You look upon him, his tranquil eyes already on you as he lies on his back; the corner of his lip turned upwards. Legs spread for your naked body to nestle between, your own bloody and bruised knees digging into the soft, plush yaedatami; offering a momentary relief from the pain. Lips bruised and swollen from the stretch, trying to accommodate his girth. Almost cracking at the corners.

If you were told to describe him, only one word springs to mind – Kami.

Divine.

His gestures – possessing an elegance that rivals the dance of willow branches in a gentle breeze. His voice; a melodious biwa ballad. The way blue hues of his eyes resemble the heavens melting into the boundless sea and the moon's reflection on tranquil waters, a sight that both soothes and enchants –

Satoru Gojo was considered an enigmatic legend in your eyes; among the people from your village. A young boy of mysterious lineage, his parentage shrouded in uncertainty. Some deemed him a yōkai, an unsettling otherworldly presence, while others gravitated towards yūrei, a spectral spirit.

He stands tall and slender, a figure exuding undeniable firmness in every line of his body. Hair the shade of soft grey; it reminds you of the moonlight filtering through the forest's canopy near your mother's okiya house, a teahouse adjacent to the gate of your village. Soft and fluffy; as the memory itself. His locks beckoned, inviting you to run your fingers through them, much like those stolen moments when he allowed you to do so – aware of limb-loosing consequences if any other maiden caught wind of your affiliation with Gojo.

Eyes mostly hidden underneath a woven silken cloth. Only allowed to see the day's sun when all others have been blinded; only a selected few made aware of Gojo's countenance.

("It's in the interest of my own well-being," he mumbles against the tender curve of your neck. Teeth grazing the marks there.

His cloth mask's fastened over the bridge of your nose, denying you eyesight. Hands sliding beneath the scarlet hakama, altered into a flowing skirt, enabling him to grasp your bare thighs with a grip so tight it threatens to leave lingering imprints. He's wrenching his pelvis up, engorged cock sliding against the sensitive walls of your drenched core as he moves you up and down his lap.

Robe shamelessly untied and disheveled but still hanging from his shoulders; with your arms clinging to the garment for dear life, a lifeline that anchors you as he delves so deeply that it elicits a desperate mewl from your lips, pushing aside any lingering questions.

"I cannot allow commoners to pose threats to my safety. After all, I am but a Kami." His hand raises one of yours, placing your palm flat against his. In that instant, you feel it—the non-existent space between your palms expanding, pushing your hand away from his. An invisible barrier materializing and separating your limb from his. It makes your fingers tingle.

"Who would–umph–desire to hurt you, my honored one."

A forceful push surges from behind you — or at least it feels that way — propelling your body towards Gojo's body. Lips colliding with his, all tenderness vanishing from his actions. His strong arm encircles your waist, lifting you up and creating the sensation of flying through the air. In one fluid motion, he turns you both around, deepening the kiss when his tongue plunges between your gasping lips.

"No one would dare, angel.")

– His taste. Briny yet the pearlescent droplets of his prespend sweet. With your cheeks hollowed, nails digging into the meat of his thighs, you savor the saline tang of him on your tongue. Tears teetering on the edge of your waterline, threatening to spill down your cheeks; eyelashes fluttering as he thrusts his hips upwards. Hand on the crown of your head pushing down simultaneously.

The swollen tip of his leaking cock plunges into your throat, scratching the sensitive back of it, and causing an involuntary gag reflex, throat instinctively closing.

"Just like that," Gojo groans in response to the sensation of your tight throat suffocating his cock, his arm positioned behind his head while the other moves to cup your cheek. His thumb tenderly wipes away a tear tracing a path down your face.

You look upon him, his tranquil eyes already on you as he lies on his back; the corner of his lip turned upwards. Legs spread for your naked body to nestle between, your own bloody and bruised knees digging into the soft, plush yaedatami; offering a momentary relief from the pain. Lips bruised and swollen from the stretch, trying to accommodate his girth. Almost cracking at the corners.

Leaving only his tip inside, you suck; draw him in, the tip of your tongue swirling over his slit as you let all the saliva gathered in your mouth coat his head, letting it dribble from the corners of your mouth onto his cock. Using your hand to spread the slick, covering his entire length in the mixture with your tongue concentrating on the spongy spot under his tip, slowly moving down until your lips meet your fingers wrapped around his hilt.

With bated breath, you ease your throat open wider, feeling the mushy head breach the gateway to your trachea; the friction growing more intense as he pushes past your tonsil area. Swallowing carefully, you take him in until his pelvis presses flush against your nose. You add a low hum to the mix, your fingernails lightly grazing the taut muscles of his abdomen, feeling it tighten as he twitches inside you. Something swells in your chest, expands and tightens over the feeling. Pride? More like a fervent devotion that borders on reverence.

"You little akuma–" he lets out a breath, fingers tracing the bulging curve of your throat before you pop him out with a wet sound. You repeat after – take him fully down your throat, keep him there and humming; vibrations shooting up his every nerve ending.

And the sounds he makes – the groan he lets out is drawn-out and echoing. You kiss his cock one more time before nipping at his sensitive area just below his abdomen, muscles hardened and shaped into a v. A place stained by the nips of your teeth, nicks of your nails; a teasing breeze caressing the shoreline.

Face moving upwards, your lips ache to meld with his. Yet as his breath mingles with yours, his fingers snake around your throat, tightening their grip.

Gojo holds your face intimately close to his that you can discern the white sparkles seemingly dancing within his eyes.

So close that you can distinguish myriad shades of blue within his iris, reminiscent of the Pleiades, or the very hue of the sky on a day when wisteria blooms swell.

"What are you doing," his head tilts to the side, lips tracing the corner of your lip until moving to your jaw. Soft gentle nibbles in contrast with the tight grip on your throat as you remain on all fours above his body that's still adorned in his night robe but completely untied.

A light breath escapes your yearning lips, eyes searching his face for any imperfections, any blemish in his otherwise divine visage – but finding none. Heart pounding in rhythm with the intensity of the moment, you believe that he's capable of hearing the beats. Thump, thump.

"Akami," you mumble, eyes falling to his lips when the tip of his tongue peaks out to slide over them, "kiss."

You remain motionless, almost paralyzed by the heated tension in the air, afraid to make a move or even swallow. Your cunt drenched, folds glistening with need to be filled. It pulsates, thumping steadily as if your heart dropped between your legs.

Gojo's eyes, once filled with desire, now appear almost bored, as if he's testing your resolve.

"Do you believe you are deserving of a kiss from Akami?"

Your head sways from side to side instinctively before you even fully process his question. Thighs failing to press together to relieve some of the tension as his wide frame blocks your attempts.

"I would not pose such queries without belief in their pertinence, correct?"

You nod. His face contours, creases between his brows. Bending one leg, he brings his knee to your cunt. Pressing onto the pulsating nerve on top, making you mewl and moan from finally getting some release. Your hips shamelessly grind onto his offering knee, painting it in your juices.

"Speak," he corrects you, putting his knee higher — forcing your calves to strain in order to remain on the soft cushion.

"You are—mmph—," Gojo's eyes flick down to see the way your pussy parts for his knee, circling it and disturbing your chain of thoughts, "—you are correct, Go—gojo."

"Good," his thumb presses against your lower lip, forcing your mouth to part more before he pushes the digit flat against your tongue, "then undertake a deserving act."

Satoru Gojo refuses to allow your lips contact with his. Even after what feels like hours – when he's already painted your body in his pearlescent spent, now slickening your gummy walls and sticking to his cock like honey – he's continuing to pound into you with relentless strength.

And yet he still doesn't let you reach the sweet high. Unable to tumble into the abyss of ecstasy. Your body his canvas, on which he paints strokes of desire – a merciless dance on the edge of rapture; where you can feel the waves building and receding like a capricious ocean tide.

("Patience, my angel. You're too pure to be stained. My forsaken tenshi.")

Robe finally discarded, he has you positioned to bend over the side of the yaedatami; high enough for your back to arch forcibly. The stretch across your abdomen feels like a taut bowstring. Ass up, held aloft and elbows pressed against the floor. Your hands grope desperately for purchase – yet finding nothing in this empty sleeping chamber – as Gojo looms over you, one arm bracing his weight beside your head, the other cradling your cheek as he spreads you wide for his cock to plunge insanely deep into your leaking cunt.

His thrusts are relentless, each one driving his cock impossibly deep. So deep it makes you feel as if the tip of his cock grazes your cervix, a blunt pressure inside building with each pivot of his hips. It builds steadily inside you, like a dam about to burst. And the loudness of your moans only assures the man in your body's response to him – his body, his heat. His cock. All of him.

"Just like that–," Gojo's voice's raspy, throat strained from the sounds of pleasure he's given you, "stay down—ugh–"

His words cause your back to arch more; prideful in his praise. The pleasure profound, toe-curling and spiraling through your body.

"Gojoo–," you try to meet the aggressive roll of his hips, even if the position doesn't let you move too much, "please–'m so close–please…"

You're begging, whining for him to never stop. To – for once – listen to his acolyte's pleas for release. And just as he senses your cunt quivering, throbbing with the impending orgasm, he draws a sharp thrust. Body heavy against your bottom, bottoming out before pulling out.

His response is a single word, "No" escaping his lips. Sitting back on his legs, his eyes lock onto the sight of your cunt – spread open, his own cum trickling from the fluttering, empty hole, glistening as it strains your inner thighs; pussy puffy and swollen from overstimulation. Chest puffing out, he basks in the tableau before him.

"I shall have a painter immortalize such image," he muses, leaning closer. Fingers tracing the curve of your calves, gliding over the skin of your thighs, bathing in the slickness of your inner thighs. He swipes the blend of his cum and juices from your cunt, collects them on his fingers.

In a commanding gesture, he raises you up, positioning you to sit atop your legs, mirroring his own stance. His wet fingers dance along your parted lips as you grow more desperate.

"Please–," you beg more, licking the saline sweetness off your lips, throat parched, "please–."

Gojo doesn't respond – not immediately. Instead, he turns you to face him with your back. Pulling your body onto his sitting lap and thrusting his cock into your abused cunt without any resistance. Your body strains as your back arches, head falling back to rest against his neck as his hands grasp both of your biceps, securing you to his chest as he thrusts upwards.

"You reach your release only when I deem it," his lips trace your neck, biting the sensitive flesh as he moves you up and down his lap. You can feel his cock scratching that insatiable itch deep inside you, each punishing thrust pushing you closer to the edge. The emptiness that follows only stokes the fervor building within you, a desire that only HE can satiate.

And does he take his time…

Legs pushed against your chest, his body weighs down on you – folded almost in half. Tears of exhaustion and bliss course down your cheeks, his name on your lips. Moaning, gasping, arching your back as you lose yourself to the euphoria that builds inside. His cock pushes against your clenched walls, swelling and so close to releasing and coating your walls with his sore.

But Gojo holds tight to his resolution; muscles taut under your trembling body; your fragile body. You're his to do with as he pleases, after all.

"Ahh–close, Gojo–please," you plead, feeling his cock plunge into your core, and the stretch of your cunt swallowing him to the root, "I want to–ugh–I can't–"

He cuts you off with a rather painful thrust, the head of his cock bruising your cervix, it seems. Making you gasp at the suddenness and pain. It's afterward that he slows down, rapid thrusts becoming languid rolls of his hips. He moans, gruff and low in his throat as he pushes himself deeper inside of you with each movement.

"You cannot what?" His eyes gleam even as he gives you a momentary reprieve. The thrumming pleasure from being so completely filled subsides, but not entirely leaving altogether – just enough to remind you that Gojo's presence is still there.

"I can't–," you whimper in his ear as he moves onto his elbows, straining your hamstrings until you feel as if he's gonna tear your legs apart, "I can't…"

"You cannot what?" Gojo demands, his cock stilling inside you, only to resume as he leans you forward, "tell me, my faithful one."

"No more–please," your lips search for his; to which his head fives to your clavicles, nibbling the tender and sensitive skin there, "I need the release, please," you beg with a strained voice.

His eyes flutter shut, teeth catching hold on your shoulder, harder than they should, "beg one more time. Let me hear your prayers."

He's waiting for a particular syllable and sounds; the first syllable of his name. For it to flow out of your lips.

"Please–," your voice becomes but a mere exhale, body spent; falling to his mercy. Shaking as you beg for this man to take whatever he wants. The only reason you're even able to speak is to plead for release, having nothing else to offer but yourself freely to him. A twisted, filth-covered shinsen.

In the end, Gojo eventually does take your offering, grants you your release.

Being that way for several moons.

[origin-spirits-of-the-past]

New and improved Agito x Toola heroforge model! 💖🌸

[agitowarrioroftheforest]

Profic Party Week 1, Day 4(part 2/2): A rarepair I like: Cain x Agito (Origin: Spirits of the Past)

Event by @profiction-edits

My multishipper ass can’t resist most Agito ships. And I love Cain and Agito’s shenanigans and interactions, for how few they get, it well establishes how much time they spend together and how much they care about each other. And so I got to thinking, what if….they were both trans?? What if Cain was the first person Agito kissed????

- 💙 -

[chuuuya-kun]

WEBCORE ANGEL GHOST DOLL NPTS !?

for anon !

Names !?

yuu . rei . tenshi . denshi . tenmyouji . kami . junpei . satsujin . shinde . dollita . dollete . divinity . divinette . angela . spiriette . hauntina . wifina . nette . ethernette . internette . windosina . googlina . websette .

Pronouns !?

we/web . si/site . inter/net . click/clicks . pix/pixel . moo/moon . ange/angels . ten/tenshi . wi/fi . spi/spirits . net/nette . com/coms . web/site . shi/shin . div/divine . ethe/ethereal . ha/haunt . doll/dolls . sp/spiri . haunt/haunts . win/wind . x/p . xp/xps . app/apps . co/computer . bj/bjs . bjd/bjds . die/diety .

Titles !?

Prn Who Is Online . The Internet Addict . The Web Divinity . Prn Ethereal Spirit . The Haunted Doll . The Doll Of Heaven . The Deceased Angel . The Lover Of Computers . The Haver Of WiFi .

i hope this is okay !!

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