#teag reader

[hungry-hungry-reader]

could you please write fluff for Nulla??? That man is just so cute and I'm starving for teag content aagh

I love Nulla! He's such a gentleman.

First things first, Nulla loves you unconditionally with all of his heart, body, and soul. 

He is INFATUATED by you. Anything you tell him, he will remember. He would never miss a single detail of your conversation. You are precious to him, and your words and voice are no exception.

Hell, you could ask him a week or two later what it was that you talked about, and he would tell you, no matter how trivial. 

Nulla is a romantic. He would love to go on dates, watch movies, go shopping, cooking together. 

In fact, he would organize surprise dates for the two of you all the time. You’d have to always be vigilant about when a potential date could pop up. Be prepared for flowers and good food. And maybe a slightly-too-sweet dessert. 

Nulla is also incredibly suave. I don’t even know what you would have to do to make him blush. 

He, however, makes it his mission to make you blush and swoon from his words alone. With how many compliments he gives to you on a daily basis, you are left genuinely wondering how he hasn’t run out of them yet. 

THE cuddler. He could be a big spoon, he could be a little spoon, he’d let you rest on top of him, he’d blanket you with his body. Any position you could ever ask for, he’d be content with.

He’s also not too-hot, not too-cold. Just right for cuddling under a warm blanket with a romance movie.

Speaking of romance movies, he’d watch the cheesiest of Hallmark movies with you. And he’d comment on everything the love interest could’ve done better. He needs you to know that he is the best one out there. Perfect for you. ;)

He is the biggest softie when it comes to you. He’d do anything you ask him to, he’d get you anything you want. 

You need to show just marginal interest in an item, and suddenly it’s at your doorstep not even an hour later. 

He loves you so much, you could never quantify his feelings for you, even if you tried. He is yours completely and undeniably. 

[idkifimawake]

Septem x reader hc +oneshot

Warnings : mentions of blood and maybe mild self harm near the angsty part?

Reader isn't like a symbol but just an angel(no specific gender), To eat a god is a visual novel.Could be ooc , pls don't come after me.

Would probably be cold towards you around other people , they wouldnt even notice you guys were in love and when you're alone with him he would be more softer but still cold nevertheless

If you're smaller than him he would love to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck

Would feed you if you refused to eat in his domain or if he's in a bad mood he would let you starve

If you're more quiet I feel like he'd like this more since you wouldn't necessarily fight back but if you did he would find it amusing and like pat your head or smthing(idk)

If you're more talkative I feel like he'd love seeing you constantly fight back and know you have like no power against him but he still finds it very amusing.

The more longer you would stay with him the calmer he would be in your presence, I feel like he would start leaving gifts and letting you chose what to eat rather than him force feeding you whatever was healthy

As long as you respected him he would love you back

Quiet reader:

It was another bland day in Septem's domain , another quiet day. Which was nice but not normally what you got from the time you spent in Unum's domain. You had your long luscious wings out , to make yourself calmer. You had to pluck some fresh because they had gone all wierd. A knock was heard at your door , it could only be Septem.

"Come in" you said quietly, putting your wings away. Septem walked in with a plate of food.

"Keep your wings out." His voice was stern and soft. "I will pluck them for you." He would? That was odd , he'd normally leave you to do these things. He put the tray of food next to the bed and sat behind you , touching your wings with his pristine fingers , soothing your soul.

"You know I love you." He said , his voice resonating in your body.

"And I love you back." You said quietly, almost a whisper , you weren't sure if he heard you but it didn't matter at all

Talkative Reader:

It was another boring ass day in Septem's domain. There was no colour. No anything. How you wished to go back into Unum's domain , it was tropical and nice , it reminded you of the time you went to earth and met some humans.

You were lying down on the bed , playing with your feathers. Septem was doing who knows what and you felt like you were going to die of Boredom. It was so tiring and you couldn't leave to Nulla's domain until a bit later.

"Stupid fucking bitch." You said to yourself , sighing and covering your eyes.

"Language." Septems voice rang through your ears , he was right beside you. He just got here.

" 'm sorry." You said with a grin on your face , it was your favourite time of the day , to bother Septem. "Did I break one of the rules again?"

"I have told you multiple times and you seem to already forget , is your soul worse than your body?" He said strictly, standing up to his full height.

"Why don't you go through the rules for me again , m'kay , I'll listen you to real good." You said grinning , staring up at him. Septem thought about and sat down on the bed , you put your head on his lap as he started going through the rules again.

Angsty stuff(inspired by the Nevemore Webtoon):

It was all so bland , all white , you thought you were going insane. No colour no nothing. It was like it was a limbo , you were in a bridge between life and death. You began clawing at the walls , destroying simple things to table and pillows to the bed itself. He hadn't let you out because of your atrocious behaviour but his ideals didn't help , your feathers had been whizzing around his house , grabbing food that he had purposely let out for you to take.

You were currently lying down on the bed , staring at the ceiling , what should you do to get more colour? Unum's domain was bright and vibrant but he refused to let you out , you couldn't even call for Nulla since he would be powerless in this situation.

After a few days you stopped letting feathers take food into your room. He found this unusual and he started knocking on your door , you didn't reply.

"(Y/n)?" He asked politely, knowing the door , you didn't reply but he did hear laughing , he forcefully opened the door and there he saw you, there was red all over the walls which he presumed to be blood.

"Look, my love, I found colour , there will be a change!" You had gone completely insane and he hadn't planned for this. You kept laughing and laughing like a demon, your feathers had been ripped but were only slightly bloody.

"(Y/n) I-." He stood next to you, seeing all the blood. "I- I'm sorry." He said , sitting next to you, he held his hand up to the wall , turning it back to the original state.

You sighed , putting your hands on your head. The colour was the only type of hope you had. The only hope of life!

"Why , why did you do that , Rafael?" You said , staring into his eyes. He fell to the floor , shocked and confused

"H-how do you know?" He looked in pain, maybe there would he more colour?

My requests are open for to eat a god x reader things

[msriri030]

The Man that I love pt 2

Unum x reader with a yandere Nulla. Empire Au. Masterlist

Tw: Greif, losing a partner.

Summary: After Nulla expresses his demand, you have to make a decide while someone is approaching the sound, unknowing to you.

Based on this song

After the twins were tucked into bed curled like moonlit dreams beneath warm quilts. The rest of you gathered in the war room.

The chamber was heavy with candlelight and tension, the shadows stretching long across the ancient stone floor. Maps littered the table, pushed aside in favor of half-drunk wine and clenched fists. You stood slightly apart from the others, watching the ocean glimmer through the high arched window. The shoreline was alight with lanterns from the port below — a false peace, masking the storm pressing closer with each breath.

Behind you, chaos brewed louder.

“It’s your fault!” Solaris shouted, the words sharp as a blade. “If you hadn’t sent him—he’d still be alive!”

Her hand slammed onto the table, rattling goblets and drawing a startled gasp from one of the junior clerics. Ignis grabbed her wrist, whispering her name like a plea, trying to hold her together.

Aeliane stepped in gently, voice taut with grief. “He didn’t know. No one knew. How could we have—?”

“Don’t excuse him!” Solaris spat, her reddish eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Weren’t you  the one who watched (Y/N) wait for him every dawn like the tide would deliver him back!? Do you even remember how we tried to make Unum’s favorite meal every morning? Just in case he came back hungry from the war like nothing had changed!”

She collapsed into her seat, chest heaving, anger bleeding into sobs. Her hands shook as she covered her face. “My Unum…Gone…”

Bishop Septem exhaled, long and tired, as if the grief of women was a nuisance to be endured. “There was nobody,” he said with detached logic. “So he may yet be alive. Isn’t that right, Consort (Y/N)?”

Your name dragged the room back to silence.

You didn’t turn to face them immediately. You kept your eyes on the ocean. On the horizon where no sails had risen in a decade. Your reflection in the window looked ghostlike thinner somehow under the candlelight.

You breathed in slowly. Then spoke, steady, quiet, but unshakable.

“No,” you said. “We can’t pray for miracles right now.”

You finally turned. The fire in your gaze silenced whatever retort Septem had poised behind his teeth.“I already made my decision.”

The words landed like stone. Solid. Final. The room stilled — not out of respect, but fear. You walked back to the table, gently brushing aside the map that bore Unum’s last campaign path. You placed your hand flat against the cold stone. “If Nulla speaks the truth, and Unum is gone... then we’re already at war. We cannot waste the night begging the gods for returns they’ve denied us for ten years. We must act. Together. Or we die.”

Aeliane reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as they laced with yours across the war table. Her touch was soft, but it steadied you like the way a single flame keeps the darkness at bay. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.

Even Solaris, who had moments ago pounded the table with grief, now lifted her head. Her eyes filled with tears, her cheeks blotched and wet. She wiped them roughly with the heel of her palm, trying to reassemble her mask of strength.

She swallowed hard. Her voice, when it came, was barely audible. “Then… what are you going to do?”

You looked out the tall window of the war room. The waves outside glittered with pale moonlight, crashing softly against the rocks below. The shoreline lanterns flickered like dying stars — dozens of little fires struggling against the wind.

“I will be his to claim,” you whispered. The words tasted like poison.

Solaris let out a sharp breath. Ignis closed her eyes, her mouth parting in silent disbelief. Aeliane gripped your hand tighter, as if she could physically anchor your soul in place.

“Because we have no other chance,” you added, staring into the sea that had taken so much from you.

A silence followed — the kind that a blade leaves after a heart has stopped.

Then it broke.

You pressed both hands over your face. The breath you took shook violently in your chest. The sob came before you could stop it — strangled, unshapely, human. For the first time in years, you allowed yourself to cry like a widow.

You dropped to your knees.

“I waited,” you choked. “I waited every damn day. From dawn to dusk. I—he said—he said he’d be back before their first birthday. He promised. And I believed him.”

Your sister wives collapsed around you — Aeliane to your left, Solaris to your right, Ignis kneeling before you, holding your face.

“No,” Ignis said, her voice cracking. “You are not sacrificing yourself. There must be something else.”

“There isn’t,” you rasped. “Nulla will burn the empire. Burn everything. He’s not bluffing.”

Solaris clenched her fists, trembling as tears fell silently from her eyes. “If Unum came, then he would never forgive you for this.”

You looked down at your hands, now resting limply in your lap. “But Unum is not here.”

You whispered the words like they were the last breath of a dying star.

A sound in the doorway.All of you turned.

Two small silhouettes stood there — your twins, Shams and Noor, wearing their sleeping robes and holding hands nervously. Shams clutched a toy in her arms. Noor rubbed at his eyes.

“Baba?” Noor asked, his voice as soft as a feather falling.Your heart shattered again, clean down the middle.They had snuck out. They must have heard everything.

Neither of them cried. They just stood there, looking at you like they already knew — like some instinct in their small hearts had told them something was breaking.

You forced yourself to stand. Every bone in your body screamed. You walked to them and knelt down, brushing Noor’s hair back and kissing Shams’s forehead.

“It’s okay,” you said, your voice barely holding. “Go back to bed. I’ll be there soon. I promise.”

Shams looked like she wanted to argue. But Noor tugged her hand, and they turned without another word, slipping back into the corridor’s dark embrace.

You watched them disappear, and every step they took away from you made the cost of your decision harder to bear. Then you turned back to the room — back to the table filled with the broken remains of your family.

“I’ve already decided,” you repeated softly. “And I won’t take it back.”

Aeliane clutched your hand again, her voice thick with tears. “Then… we’ll go with you to meet with him.”

You turned toward her. “No. Someone has to stay. If I fail—”

“You won’t.”

You looked at them all, then toward the horizon outside — where the stars had started to vanish as night began surrendering to the approach of dawn.

Sunrise was coming. So was he.

—--------------------------------------------

However, what Nulla — nor the Empire itself — could have known was this:

A mile beyond the glittering horizon, hidden by the curve of the sea and veils of early storm mist, two men clung to life.

Lord Quinque coughed salt from his lungs, his fingers white-knuckled against the jagged edges of a makeshift raft. The vessel was no more than a warped collection of broken planks, bent metal, and scavenged canvas stitched with desperation. Blood painted his sleeve. Saltwater stung a half-healed wound along his cheek. But he held on, eyes scanning the skies for any sign of calm — or worse, wings.

Aboard the wreckage beside him, Emperor Unum stood like a revenant carved from wrath. The ocean wind screamed around him, but he remained steady, hands wrapped in thick rope used to control what was left of the battered sail. His red hair, matted with seawater, whipped behind him like a banner of war.

He hadn't spoken much since Quinque dragged him, half-dead, from the shattered remains of the battlefield. Not about the battle. Not about Nulla. And certainly not about what the creature in black had whispered to him. But something had changed in Unum’s eyes.

A darkness — no, a clarity.

Quinque, shivering from cold and exhaustion, looked up with a grim smirk. “Unum,” he rasped, “remind me again why we’re trying to survive this suicide voyage?”

The sea raged like a wrathful god beneath them, waves clawing at the raft with greedy hands. But Unum didn’t waver. His gaze remained fixed ahead, locked on the coastline slowly taking shape in the distance.

“I know why,” he said at last, voice low and cutting through the wind like a blade. His arms flexed as he adjusted the ropes, using the currents to slingshot the sail. “Because they’re waiting.”

His voice cracked just slightly on the word — they. The one that meant you. His wives. His children. The empire he loved more than himself. 

The memory of your voice haunted him. Your songs, sung with trembling strength, echoing across empty halls. The feel of the twins asleep on his chest. The way you once reached for him in the night, thinking he was gone even while beside you.

His jaw tightened. 

He had been gone too long.

And now, with nothing left but sinew, blood, and the fury of a father and husband returning from the jaws of death — he would come home.

Unum’s eyes caught the light of a distant beacon flickering at the Empire’s edge — the harbor flames still burning.

He smiled, sharp and breathless.

“Hold fast, Quinque. We reach the coast before sunrise.”

Quinque coughed another laugh. “You better hope they still want you.”

Unum gripped the ropes tighter, sea spray washing over his armor like a baptism.

“They need me. And I’ll tear through heaven and hell to be what they deserve.”

As the storm rumbled behind them and the first hints of dawn painted the edges of the sky in gold and crimson, the raft surged forward — like a broken arrow fired straight from the mouth of vengeance itself.

Unum was coming home.

By the time they reached the shore, dawn had just begun to break — not with a gentle warmth, but with the pale steel glow of an uncertain morning.

Unum staggered forward, soaked to the bone, and threw a thick travel cloak over his shoulders. The heavy black fabric clung to him like a second skin, concealing the battered armor beneath. The hood shadowed his features, muting the familiar red of his hair and the sharp cut of his jaw. From a distance, he looked like any other refugee — a ghost limping from the sea.

He paused, boots sinking into the wet sand as he raised his eyes toward the cliffs.

There it was.

High above, half-shrouded in mist and ivy, was the garden balcony — your balcony. The place where he used to watch you tends to the flowers with the twins in his arms, where he’d surprise you with morning kisses and pull you into his arms when no one else dared interrupt. The memories hit harder than the ocean ever could.

Without a word, Unum stepped toward the cliff wall.

“What are you doing?” Quinque groaned, limping after him, one hand pressed to his ribs. “We just survived a shipwreck. You want to scale a damn mountain now?”

Unum glanced over his shoulder, a glint of stubborn purpose in his eyes. “We don’t have time. If Nulla’s already inside, I can’t walk through the gates like a parade. He’d see me coming.”

Quinque cursed under his breath but followed anyway, muttering about cracked bones and royal lunacy.

The cliffside was slick and treacherous, each foothold a gamble. Roots curled like fingers through stone. Moss and rainwater made every grip uncertain. But Unum climbed with grim determination, his breath sharp and controlled, muscles burning with the effort. His cloak billowed behind him like wings torn from a fallen god.

Quinque trailed behind, slower, gritting his teeth every time a rock gave way beneath him.

“You know,” he grunted between breaths, “most men send a letter or a raven when they come back from the dead.”

Unum didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on the top of the garden. On your family.

When his hand finally caught the ledge, he didn’t waste a moment. With one last pull, he hoisted himself over, crouching low behind the carved stone railing. He pressed a hand to the earth, grounding himself in the soil of his home,  his empire, before helping Quinque up beside him.

The garden was quiet. Too quiet.

But the flowers still bloomed, the dew still kissed the grass, and somewhere inside, he knew…you were awake. And so was the storm waiting for him.

Soon, Nulla would arrive.

The halls beyond the throne room were too quiet — as if the walls themselves held their breath, waiting for your choice. You stood just outside the great golden doors, wrapped in the pale hush of morning. The sea wind licked at the hem of your robe, carrying salt and silence.

You glanced out over the horizon one last time.

No sail.

No miracle.

The ocean remained still — a flat, pitiless mirror. If there was hope out there, it had not yet dared to show its face. Your tears had long dried up in the cold night hours. Grief had hollowed you out, left your throat raw, your chest brittle like cracked glass.

You stared at your fingers, fidgeting with the ring Unum had given you — a simple band etched with the symbol of your union. The metal was warm from your skin, though your hands trembled. As if trying to keep the man alive in memory, you began to hum — then quietly sing, your voice catching like a thread on thorn.

The words cracked on your lips, breaking against the shore of your sorrow.

“The man that I love, knows I love him

He takes me in his arms and I forget it all

He is my motive, he is my own sun

He gave me joys that nobody gave me…”

You hiccupped, trying to suppress the sound, but it slipped free — a fragile, human ache.

Aeliane stood beside you, silent until now. She didn’t speak, didn’t interrupt the song that haunted the space between you. Instead, she reached for your hand and laced her fingers with yours — no grand gesture, just steady warmth.

She squeezed gently.

You looked at her, and though her eyes were red-rimmed from her own sleepless night, her jaw was set with quiet determination. She wasn’t asking if you were sure. She already knew.

The moment was almost here.

Behind you, the guards shifted at their post. A single trumpet rang out in the distance — not one of celebration, but of announcement.

Nulla had arrived.

The storm you were supposed to bow to… was waiting.

And still, you stood by the sea-facing window a little longer, letting the breeze tangle your hair. Letting your heart whisper the last of the song to the man who might never hear it.

But if he did — if he somehow lived — he’d know this: you sang it for him, even at the end.

—-------------------------------

Unbeknownst to anyone, Unum tore through the palace corridors like a man possessed — his boots pounding against ancient stone, breath burning in his lungs. The cool air of the marbled halls whipped against his sweat-slicked skin as he yanked the travel-stained cloak from his shoulders, casting it aside without thought. His chest heaved. Every step echoed like war drums. He could feel the pulse of the empire beneath his feet — and the one person anchoring it.

You.

He slammed open the doors to your shared chambers, the crash reverberating through the silence.

Inside, the atmosphere was hushed and heavy, like the stillness before a storm.

Two of your wives, Solaris and Ignis, sat on plush cushions near the hearth, their faces pale, the firelight casting shadows beneath their eyes. Between them were two small children, curled close to their mothers for comfort. Their soft murmuring halted as the doors flew open, startled eyes darting toward the intrusion.

Unum froze. The sight robbed him of breath.

Two children — twins — perhaps six, maybe seven years old. Familiar gray eyes, wide with confusion and curiosity. One clutched a worn cloth doll. The other had a stubborn tilt to his chin that Unum recognized like a blade to the heart.

His knees nearly buckled.

Solaris rose slowly, trembling as if she were waking from a dream she didn’t dare believe. Her voice cracked like old parchment.

“…Unum?”

His name. It had been so long since someone spoke it like that with wonder, with grief, with hope still clinging to the edges.

Ignis didn’t wait. She moved to him, her steps hesitant but fast. She reached up and cupped his face with both hands, her thumbs tracing the lines of exhaustion, the faint scar at his lip — proof that this wasn’t a ghost. Her tears spilled freely down her cheeks.

“Unum…” she whispered again, voice breaking. “You’re home. You're really here.”

He caught her wrists, pressing her palms tighter to his face, grounding himself in her warmth. Solaris joined them, her hand over her mouth, her body shaking as she reached for him too. They formed a circle of love and disbelief, silent save for the occasional sob.

“I’m back,” he said, his voice hoarse and raw. “I came back… as fast as I could.”

Then, a sound. Small footsteps.

Unum turned his gaze downward to see one of the twins standing a few feet away, watching him with wary curiosity. The boy’s eyes — Unum’s eyes — searched his face with an intelligence too sharp for his age.

The child whispered, “Are you… my papa?”

Unum’s heart cracked.

He slowly knelt, lowering himself to their level with tears clouding his vision. “Yes,” he said, barely able to speak. “Yes… I’m your papa.”

The Noor hesitated. Then, he launched forward, wrapping small arms around Unum’s neck, burying his face against him. The second twin followed timidly but was drawn to him, clinging to Unum’s side with silent need.

Unum pulled them close, arms shaking as he held what he had missed, what he had dreamed of in the dark.

“I’m here,” he murmured into their hair. “I’m here now. I’m so sorry I missed so much.”

Ignis and Solaris knelt beside him, their hands resting over his shoulders and the children’s backs, creating a cocoon of warmth and aching reunion. The fire crackled gently behind them, the only witness to a miracle finally fulfilled.

But Unum’s joy was edged with urgency. Even as he cradled his children, he felt the pull — the realization:

You didn’t know.

You thought he was gone. And Nulla… was waiting.

He looked at Solaris, his voice grave but firm. “Where is (Y/N)? And Aeliane?”

Solaris blinked, startled. “Outside the throne room… waiting for Nulla’s answer.”

Unum's blood ran cold. He gently unwrapped the twins' arms from his neck, kissed their brows, and rose like a storm reawakened. His red hair was wild, wind-tossed from the sea. His eyes burned with purpose.

“She’s about to sacrifice herself,” he said. “I won’t let it happen.”

And then, with the firelight still flickering behind him, Unum turned and ran.

—----------------------------------------------

The throne room doors groaned open like the gates of a tomb. Marble floors trembled beneath a rhythm of synchronized steps. Nulla entered not with the grace of a guest, but the command of a conqueror. Behind him marched a small contingent — cloaked, armored, and silent, their crimson tabards rippling with every step. Each bore the same sigil: a black feather encircled in flame.

But Nulla was not clad in a general’s rage.

He wore black ceremonial armor trimmed with blood-red gold, as though he were dressed for a wedding — or a funeral.

Your funeral.

You stood at the top of the dais, before the empty throne, the marble chill biting through your slippers. You’d chosen not to sit. Not to retreat. The weight of the empire pressed down on your spine, but you held yourself with unshakable poise.

Your face was calm. Your eyes were cold.

And when Nulla met them, his breath caught, just for a second.

Then he smiled.A smile that didn’t reach his eyes.A smile that had no place here. Like a lover returning to an embrace never promised.

Nulla’s bow was slow and theatrical, but the air in the throne room did not warm. It grew heavier.

You did not step forward. You did not nod in return. You stood still as stone, your expression carved from the same marble that lined the chamber walls. If he hoped to unnerve you with his calm, he would have to try harder.

When he rose from his bow, his eyes gleamed, twin coals lit with longing and menace.

“You wear sorrow well,” he murmured, his voice low, reverent, and terrifying. “But it suits you less than joy. I intend to return that to you. All of it. I will give you the world, if only you say yes.”

Behind him, his soldiers did not move. Neither did yours. Both sides were statues caught in a single breath — one wrong word from becoming war.

You stayed at the top of the dais, your hands clasped before you, fingers curling so tightly into your palms they left crescent moons in your skin. Your voice, when it came, was quiet but strong.

“You assume I am something that can be taken.”

Nulla smiled again — this time, too broadly. “No, no, no. You misunderstand me. I don’t take what belongs to me. I earned it. I wait. I adore it. And I burn what dares stand between us.”

He took one more step forward. Your guards flinched.

“Careful,” you said sharply, not to Nulla, but to them. “Let him speak. We must know the full measure of his madness before we bury it.”

A flicker of something,surprise, or amusement, danced across Nulla’s face.

“I was right to love you,” he said. “Even your fury is beautiful.”

Before another word could be spoken, the throne room doors behind Nulla rattled again. This time, it wasn’t the echo of steel boots or marching guards that stirred the silence.

It was a single voice.

“Step away from them.”

The words dropped like thunder, low and absolute. Echoes rippled through the marble chamber like an aftershock. Courtiers gasped, advisors froze, even the guards shifted as if the very bones of the palace had heard it.

At the far end of the hall stood a figure cloaked in ash and salt, battered by sea and storm, hair red as firewinds and eyes sharp as forged steel.

Unum. Alive.

The light of the high stained glass caught on the salt crusting his sleeves and the blood-matted edge of his cloak, but there was no weakness in his stance — only fury, sharpened by months of loss. His gaze didn’t flicker to you, not even once, because every shred of his restraint was locked on the man standing before you.

Nulla.

And in that instant, you understood: if Unum looked at you now, he would lose control. And that control was the only thing keeping Nulla alive.

Your heart stuttered, then surged.

You could hardly breathe. Your lungs strained against the sob building in your chest. Your legs trembled, your throat closed, but still — you didn’t fall. You couldn’t. Because there he was.

Your husband. Your Unum. Your emperor.

He had returned not just to survive — but to defend everything.

Behind you, Aeliane slowly pulled you back from the dais with trembling hands, eyes never leaving the battlefield forming before her. You didn’t resist. Not yet. Your children rushed into your arms, burying their faces against you. You wrapped them in your arms, shielding them with everything left in your soul.

The rest of your family moved around you like a constellation re-aligning — Solaris, her eyes wild with disbelief; Ignis, already whispering prayers; Quinque threw to Unum his whips before standing behind Unum like a shadow made flesh.

Below, on the throne room floor, the two men began to circle.

Unum and Nulla.

The lover returned, and the monster who tried to replace him.

They moved with lethal quiet, like predators too aware of each other’s claws. Every motion was measured. Every breath, a held blade.

One fight. One end.

And as their eyes locked, as power coiled around their fingers and the very air seemed to tense with dread, you realized:

There would be no diplomacy. No more mercy. Only the reckoning.

Unum moved first. His whips lashed through the air — fast, silent, brutal. Forged from woven firesteel and shadow-thread, they coiled through space like living serpents, trailing sparks in their wake. Nulla barely had time to parry.

In a single breath, Unum was on him. There was no taunt, no warning, no hesitation — just violence, pure and clean.

Their fists collided, magic and might meeting midair with a deafening crack. The sound split the room like a storm breaking the sky. Columns trembled. Marble tiles cracked. The stained-glass windows groaned under the pressure wave as two titans,one clad in ash, the other in darkness, fought like gods wearing mortal skin.

The guards scattered.

Aeliane pulled the children back further, shielding their eyes. Solaris stepped in front of them with blazing fists ready, should either man fall.

You couldn’t move. You could only watch — as the man who once kissed your hands with reverence became a storm, his face carved in fury, his red hair a halo of firelight, his eyes colder than steel.

Nulla grinned, even as blood bloomed from a gash on his cheek. “You do look better alive,” he spat, dodging another strike. “Pity it won’t last.”

“Neither will your lies,” Unum growled, voice low and blistering with hate.

They clashed again — harder this time. One of Unum’s whips wrapped around Nulla’s gauntlet, dragging him forward as Unum’s other hand drove a punch into his ribs. Bones crunched. Nulla countered with a pulse of shadow magic, slamming Unum backward against a shattered column.

Dust rained down from the vaulted ceiling.

But Unum rose again, spitting blood, smiling through it.

“You thought you could take what was mine?” he said, voice shaking the walls more than any spell. “My empire. My family. Them.”

Nulla’s smile flickered. And then Unum was charging again — a blur of crimson and vengeance. One whip wrapped around Nulla’s ankle, jerking him to the ground, while the second arced through the air and lashed across his chest, tearing through armor like paper. Sparks flew.

The whole throne room felt like it was breaking apart around them — and maybe it was.

You clutched your children tighter. Behind you, the other consorts stood in awe and terror alike.

Because this wasn’t just a duel. This was judgment. And it had only just begun.

You didn’t wait another moment. Grabbing your children tightly, you turned to Aeliane, urgency in your voice. “We need to get somewhere safe.”

Their little arms clung to you, eyes wide, breaths shallow with fear.

Before Aeliane could respond, Quinque rushed to your side, breathless and wild-eyed, a faint trail of blood on his sleeve. “Consort,” he said, scanning the chaos, “we need to get you to safety—now.”

You nodded quickly, heart pounding. “The garden. We’ll head to the garden. There’s cover there—old tunnels behind the fountains. Go!”

Aeliane scooped up one child, Solaris and Ignis following with the other. You barely had time to glance back before another explosion of magic lit up the throne room, sending cracks spidering up the marble walls.

Unum and Nulla were still locked in combat, two celestial forces bound in a mortal war. You could feel the heat from Unum’s fury even from here, the weight of every strike shaking the foundations of the palace itself.

But you didn’t stop.

You and your sister-wives fled through the side corridor, boots echoing down the stone passage, your children clutched to your chest. Behind you, the throne room groaned with power. You felt it in your bones — the end was coming

You ran through the garden, your footsteps muffled by the moss-laced stones and soft petals that had fallen from the flowering trees. The air was thick — not just with the scent of crushed roses and scorched soil, but with fear, heavy and clinging like damp silk. Behind you, the thunder of gods clashing shook the very bones of the palace.

Aeliane reached the old tree first, brushing back ivy to reveal the hidden channel carved beneath the roots — a narrow passage that led to the cliffside tunnels and the sea. Quinque stood guard, bloodied but unyielding, ushering the others inside.

“Hurry!” he barked. “We don’t have much time!”

You herded the children through, their tiny hands gripping yours desperately. Their cheeks were stained with tears, their breaths hiccupping in terror. Aeliane held your arm, tugging.

“You have to come with us—please!”

But your feet stopped.

You turned, slowly, and looked back toward the palace, to the direction where Unum fought for everything you built together. Your throat tightened. The ground trembled again — a pulse of dark magic, followed by a distant roar that was more beast than man.

“I can’t,” you said quietly. “If Nulla wins… if Unum falls… someone must still stand.”

Soleris reached for you, her face twisted in anguish. “Don’t say that! Don’t you dare!”

Instead of answering, you pulled her hands forward and placed your children in them. They screamed, tiny arms reaching back toward you, voices breaking.

“Mama! Baba! Please—!”

You kissed them each, quickly, memorizing the feel of their hair, the weight of their tiny bodies in your arms. “You are my joy. My stars. Be brave, my loves. Be brave.”

Tears blinded you for a heartbeat. But you couldn’t let them fall.

Aeliane grabbed Soleris, guiding her toward the passage. Ignis took the rear, glancing back one last time with fire in her eyes.

“Come back to us,” she whispered.

Then the channel closed. Darkness swallowed them.

And you were alone.

Wind rushed through the treetops, the cries of birds scattering into the dawn like prayers lost on the breeze. Smoke coiled from the palace roof in long, dark ribbons — an omen, or a warning. Somewhere beyond the marble walls, beyond shattered columns and sacred halls, Unum still fought. Steel clashed against shadow. Fury met obsession.

And if he fell… there would be nothing left between the empire and ruin but you.

Your breath caught — long and trembling, like the hush before a hymn. You stood on the edge of the garden’s highest rise, where roses once bloomed to lullabies and sunlight. Your hands, once meant to cradle children and tend peace, now clenched with the weight of war.

Then you turned your face toward the sea.

The sea — the silent witness to every song you sang, every night you waited — had finally answered.

You smiled through the sting of tears. Not broken — braced. You wiped your cheek with a steady hand and turned toward the palace once more, toward fire and fury.

Unum moved like a storm unchained. His twin whips, forged of shadowsteel and blessed by ancient rites, snapped through the air like lightning made flesh. Nulla countered with his jagged crimson blade, his expression twisted between obsession and wrath.

The first strike sent shockwaves down the throne room. The floor cracked, splintering under their feet. Pillars crumbled from the pressure of unleashed force. The stained-glass windows exploded inward, shards raining like starlight.

Unum struck again, the red-and-golden arc of his whip wrapping around Nulla's blade. He yanked, sending the weapon flying across the room. But Nulla didn’t falter. He lunged, claws of magic forming around his fists, aiming for Unum’s heart.

They crashed into each other again — magic clashing, light against dark, fury against madness. Sparks ignited the air. The banners of the Empire fluttered violently, as if trying to flee the throne room’s suffocating pressure.

In the place Unum roared, the sound more beast than man. He spun, one whip catching Nulla’s arm, the other curling around his ankle. In a blinding twist, he slammed Nulla into a column with such force the stone gave way in a deafening crack.

"This is MY empire," Unum growled, chest heaving, blood at the corner of his mouth. "You will not touch them. Not while I still breathe."

Nulla rose, blood trailing from his temple, smiling through broken teeth. “Then you’ll die for them. And I’ll take them from your corpse."

Unum didn’t answer with words. Only another strike — fast, final, merciless.

The two clashed once more in a blaze of power that lit the sky through the shattered ceiling, a flare seen across the entire capital.

And then... silence.

One figure stood.

Chest heaving. Shoulders smoking. Blood trailing from a wound near his ribs, but it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

The other lay crumpled at the foot of the dais, the black feathers that once signaled dread now lifeless and strewn across marble like ash. Nulla was defeated — finally.

Unum had won.

The silence afterward was absolute. No cheers, no horns of victory. Just the crackle of broken stone cooling and the flutter of a torn banner overhead.

Unum exhaled, slow and unsteady. His knuckles bled. His breathing was ragged. But his gaze lifted — not to the throne, not to the ruins of battle — but to the archway that led toward the palace gardens. Toward you.

He knew where you’d be.

And so he walked. Past shattered columns, past scorched rugs and collapsed guards. Past the place where he nearly died and the place where he nearly lost everything.

Through the war-ravaged halls, he found the garden again — not untouched, but alive. As if it too had been holding its breath.

And there you were.

Back turned to him, your gaze on the sea, unmoving, like a statue carved from moonlight and sorrow.

He stopped in the doorway, quiet.

You hadn’t heard his steps yet, but he smiled, soft and full of love, because he knew that stance — the way your hands clasped just below your ribs, the slight tilt of your head like you were listening for more than wind. His heart ached with how much he’d missed you. How much he never wanted to miss again.

Then you turned.

Slow. Disbelieving.

And your eyes found him.

Unum chuckled slowly, a sound cracked and breathless but real. “Told you I’d come back,” he said hoarsely.

You didn’t run to him — not at first. You only stared, drinking him in like he might vanish again if you blinked too hard. But he didn’t vanish. He stood there, scarred, shaking, alive — and looking at you like you were the only thing that had kept him going through the abyss.

His brave spouse. His home.

And then you spoke, voice cracking like a branch beneath too much weight. “I have no excuse for my actions… I promise, I was doing it to protect everyone.”

The words tumbled from your mouth like falling glass, sharp and fragile. Tears blurred your vision, your chest tightening with each hiccupped breath. You had rehearsed this moment in nightmares — him standing before you, alive, but with eyes filled with judgment. You couldn't bear it.

“I thought you were dead,” you choked out. “I thought the ocean swallowed you. I waited… gods, Unum, I waited until I couldn’t breathe without hurting. I watched the children fall asleep in front of that window every night hoping you’d walk through the door. And when Nulla came… I didn’t know what else to do.”

You backed away, shame pressing against your ribs like iron bands, until your spine met the cold marble railing of the balcony. There was nowhere left to retreat. Your fists clenched at your sides, trembling. “I thought you’d hate me. I thought I failed you.”

Unum stepped forward slowly. Not like a warrior. Like a man approaching the person he never stopped dreaming of. His steps were heavy with the weight of every mile he’d crossed to return to you — blood-soaked, storm-chased, bone-weary — and yet his hands were steady as they reached for you.

“I don’t hate you,” he said quietly, voice thick with emotion. “I know. I know what he tried to take from you.”

His palm cupped your cheek, the warmth of it grounding. You leaned into it instinctively, gasping on a sob.

“You protected them the only way you knew how. You were alone. And you still stood. I am so proud of you”

Your lip trembled. “I thought you’d never come back.”

“I would cross every storm, every god, and every grave to come back to you.” He took another breath, like he’d been drowning and only now surfaced. “And I did.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, hands sliding gently to your waist, anchoring you to the moment. His eyes stared into you, nuzzling your nose together. 

“You didn’t fail anyone,” he whispered. “You saved them.”

You closed your eyes as his scent enveloped you. It filled the hollow places where grief had taken root. You reached for him at last, fingers clinging to his tunic as if to convince yourself he was real.

And then you felt him tremble too.

“You know I was afraid you wouldn’t wait for me,” he confessed, so softly only the sea could’ve heard. “That you’d forget how to love me if I didn’t make it back in time.”

You opened your eyes. “I could never forget.”

The first rays of sunlight spilled across the garden balcony, bathing everything in soft gold. The ocean below exhaled in rhythmic waves, gentler now—almost as if it had finally surrendered to peace, mirroring the stillness settling in your bones.

Unum stood with you wrapped in his arms, his breathing slow, his heart steady against yours. Tired. Aching. But whole again.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he whispered, voice hoarse with raw sincerity. His lips met yours, slow at first—grateful and grounding—before the kiss deepened with hunger. His hands traced over your sides with reverence, memorizing the shape of your survival.

He nuzzled into your neck, breathing you in as if your scent was the only thing anchoring him to the moment. You moaned softly, feeling your body melt into his embrace. His teeth grazed your shoulder, and your hand slipped over the muscle of his chest, desperate to feel all of him, to remind yourself he was really here.

Unum pulled back just enough to watch your expression, his lips curving into a smile at the way your eyes fluttered, how your breath hitched in his arms.

Damn, I missed them… he thought, holding you tighter. Might as well lose myself right here—

A loud thud crashed into the scene.

“NO FAIR!” Solaris bellowed, tackling the two of you in an explosion of limbs and jealousy. “You’re taking everyone for a round tonight, Unum! You’re not hogging (Y/N)!”

Still half-draped over you, Unum groaned in defeat while you blinked in dazed surprise.

“Round?” murmured the twins in eerie unison, tilting their heads from the doorway with unsettling curiosity.

Ignis immediately broke into a coughing fit as Aeliane elbowed him in the ribs, both scrambling to spin a logical, less suggestive explanation.

“Ah—it’s a training round! Yes! Sparring!” Aeliane blurted.

“Yes, a combat circuit,” Ignis nodded rapidly, eyes wide. “Not that kind of round.”

Solaris snorted and flopped dramatically beside you, “Speak for yourselves. I meant what I said.”

You sighed into your palm as Unum chuckled beside you, brushing a kiss to your temple. “Guess our moment’s over.”

“Moment?” Solaris smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. “Sounded like it was turning into a whole night.”

[5eptem]

New Septem date idea pick! Fancy wine and steak dinners or just wine tastings 😌

I mean from how much wine he kept sipping while talking to the viewer that’s probably his pick for a date. Just a simple dinner at a 5 star restaurant.

What do you think?

I LOVE THIS! ❤️🍷

First, we would have to pick out some normie clothes for him, which would be a lot of fun. 🤭 If it's a steakhouse, it probably would be fancy, so he would have to be dressed as such (us, too!)

I'm imagining a cream-colored suit with a white button up beneath, unbuttoned at the top with the collar popped to expose just a peek of his collarbones and chest. He would look so cool walking into that place like he owned it, even if he was clueless akdjfkdksndkd

I think he'd enjoy ordering on your behalf. You aren't allowed to speak even a peep to the waiter! Or choose what you eat or drink, Septem knows best for you. You keep your head bowed when the waiter comes around and make sure not to make eye contact.

Septem doesn't like PDA, and yet your circumstances with him will be made quite clear to the waiter and other patrons with how submissive you are to him...

...the wine loosens him up, just a little bit. Maybe you try to play footsie with him beneath the table! It's testing your luck, but in that moment, it pleases him that you found a way to subtlely and silently pay even more attention to him than you already were. He likes it.

But if you get too cheeky about it, he'll stomp on your foot too hard.

Don't make a scene...don't make a scene...even as sudden pain jolts up your leg and makes you want to scream...

...

...ohhh, does your foot hurt now? Hmm...well, maybe he can make an exception this one time, as you leave the restaurant. He'll just have to carry you around everywhere, it seems. And then there will be no doubt to everyone just how helpless you are to him.

What a nice date!

[kerrslvr]

mile high club / teagan micah

in which, you and teagan join the mile high club.

warnings; fingering (r receiving), nipple stimulation, dom!teagan, sub!reader, dirty talk, strap-ons (fucking and sucking), breeding kink, praise kink, voyuerism?? i guess??

a short little smut completely inspired by teagan's insta story of her on the flight back to aus which i posted here. i have also clearly never been in a first class airplane pod, so forgive me for giving it too much space x

**** "babe. are you asleep?"

your eyes peeled open to teagan's fingers prodding at your bicep, and you shifted from a position that made your neck stiff and your legs cramp.

"i was," you grumbled, squinting your eyes closed to adjust to the light within the plane, "what's up?"

teagan's fingers danced across your arm, and even though you were wearing one of her thick, fleeced hoodies, you could feel the electricity bouncing from her fingertips.

"hm, nothing," she hummed, "just a bit bored to be honest."

"we've been on this plane two hours, teags," you shifted so that your legs were draped over hers and immediately her hand gripped your thigh. you pulled her hood down and played with the strands of her hair that fell loosely behind her ears, "why don't you try and sleep? or maybe we could watch a movie...? i bought my headphone splitter so we can watch notting hill in peace."

"i don't wanna watch notting hill, babe."

her hand moved up your leg an inch or so, and you sensed you knew what she was getting at but you were in a first class pod on a busy airplane with alanna and mary in the pods surrounding you. there was no way in hell she wanted to do that, was there?

"oh, uh, o-okay," you shifted and reached for your ipad on the table across from you both, "i have, uh, we could watch jumanji, or, uh, i downloaded the new-"

teagan's hand rose higher on your thigh until it was sitting in the crease and you lost your train of thought when her thumb brushed against your clothed clit.

"teagan."

"y.n," she taunted back, "just for five minutes."

"no, teagan, it's too risky."

"because you're going to be too loud? i have ways to shut you up, y'know."

you rolled your eyes and leaned into teagan's touch. it would be nice to just have ten minutes to yourselves, you'd both been so busy with work you were exhausted, and hadn't had sex for a reasonable amount of time.

your lips found hers and her touch was soft, even when her fingers slid under the band of your leggings and her finger pressed against your clit. you pulled the cap from her head and it fell to the floor between her legs, and you pulled her closer as you simultaneously scooched your body closer to hers so it was easier for the both of you.

she pulled your lip between her teeth and now you'd given her the green light there really wasn't much time to waste. you both expected they'd be coming round with refreshments, or possibly even breakfast soon.

"gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me, darling?"

you nodded against her lips, and when her fingers circled your hole and curled inside you as her thumb circled your clit. your hand stayed wrapped around her neck throughout the entirety of the exchange, lips brushing against hers every so often.

"o...oh, my... t-teagan," you breathed, trying desperately not to make a sound.

"sssh, babe, i know," she kissed your jaw, "feels good, doesn't it? you're so wet and warm."

a moan escaped your lips at teagan's comment, and quickly her free hand moved to your mouth, where she stuck two fingers inside and immediately you let your tongue swirl around her fingertips.

the angle was awkward, yet somehow she managed to hit every spot. your pussy was soaked, and she could already feel your wetness dripping down her knuckles and onto her wrist. she added a third finger and your eyes locked as she telepathically swore you to silence.

she loved the look in your eyes, both of partial fear and desperation. how you looked like a deer in the headlights but still craved her enough to continue.

you shifted in your seat so you were closer to being laid down than you were sat up, and allowed your hands to push up her hoodie just enough. she removed her hand from your mouth and helped, so it was now sitting across her shoulders, where you were greeted by her sports bra.

"no," she whispered sternly, "y/n, don't you dare. you know that makes me - oh."

one of your lips attached around one of her nipples and you suckled on it slowly, and immediately she became like putty in your hands. her fingers worked faster, desperately wishing she could bring you to the edge faster so you wouldn't be sucking on her nipples. it's not that she didn't like it - if anything, she loved it - but it drove her crazy and she sometimes found herself getting out of control at the feeling of your lips all over her chest.

your breathing sped up and your legs spread wider, back arching delicately as you chased your orgasm as quietly as you could. teagan's fingers continued to curl inside of you, her thumb pressing down harder as she circled your clit to amount more pressure, and it quickly got to the point where the pressure got too heavy.

your head spun and your limbs shook as your orgasm washed over you, unable to control the feeling amounting inside of your body. your teeth dug into teagan's nipple and she had to bite down on her bottom lip so she didn't elicit any form of unwanted attention from passengers or staff.

once your orgasm subsided and your head felt floaty, she pushed your head away from her chest and looked at you with an unimpressed look on her face.

"that wasn't very smart, was it, babe, hm?" she pulled her fingers from your lap and you admired your own liquid trickling down her wrist, "because i was just going to finger you every so often during the flight until we got to sydney, but now? i don't know if i can do that," her tongue darted out to lick at the juice now rolling down her forearm, "because you decided to be a whore and take it to the next step by sucking my tits, didn't you? and you know how that makes me feel, darling."

"i-i'm sorry, teagan," you whispered, but she was already pulling the hoodie from your body and pushing down your leggings, "i just thought it would keep me quiet."

she tugged at the front of your bralette and watched as your boobs spilled out. without hesitation, the fingers that were inside of you a mere two minutes prior were now stuffed into your mouth, her lips wrapped around your nipples and her free hand began to rub harsh circles around your clit.

"n-no, t-teagan, you know what happens when you-"

"-not my problem."

she suckled on your nipples as if she were tasting them for the first time, licking her lips and allowing herself to get messy. you choked on her fingers as she pushed them further down your throat, not allowing you the space to breathe, and her fingers continued to rub harshly on your clit.

again, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold off your orgasm, and if teagan was good at one thing, it was bringing on an orgasm quickly. her tongue circled between each nipple and it sent your mind reeling, although you both knew you wanted her to eat you out, but it wasn't happening.

you clenched your eyes shut, once again gagging on her fingers as you thought back on memories of the feeling of her tongue on your clit, and soon you found yourself on the brink of an orgasm. you grabbed at the wrist that was resting on your chin, wanting to let her know your orgasm was approaching, but she knew your body too well. your legs began to shake and your stomach muscles started to tense, and she admired you as your entire body was rocked by your second orgasm in under five minutes.

your juices trickled around her wrist again and she took her sweet time this time around licking her hand clean while you tried to catch your breath with desperation.

"don't tell me you're tired," she hummed, "you haven't even repaid me with a thank you yet."

you whimpered, but moved your body as exhausted as it was, pushing your hoodie back down your body to cover your modesty just in case anybody were to walk past. as you came to, teagan had undone the drawstring of her bottoms and pushed them down her legs, and your eyes widened at the sight before you.

"well...?" she gestured, "are you just going to sit there? or do i have to force a thank you out of you as well?"

"n-no," you croaked, shifting your position. teagan reached past your body and locked the entrance to your pod, although it was probably clear as a bell to the staff and fellow passengers what was going on by now, not to mention that if anybody walked past in a certain lighting, they would undoubtedly see the outline of your backside sticking out in their direction as you sucked her off.

she bunched up your hair as you slid your mouth down her cock, and she shivered at the feeling. your throat had already been coaxed open by her fingers, and so, much to teagan's satisfaction, you had no trouble in accommodating the size of her strap.

you looked over at her, and she was sitting there with her hands on her nipples looking down at you through hooded eyes, and you craved her now more than ever. you would much rather have been eating her out in that moment, however the flight still had twenty hours of airtime, and you knew you'd get your chance later.

one of your hands moved to rest on her knee and one of your hands found her nipple, where you took over touching it, conveniently freeing up a hand of hers.

"fu-uck, baby, that's it. right fuckin' there," she bucked her hips up and you coughed and spluttered around her dick, "throat is almost as good as your pussy."

she reached across your body and circled your hole with her fingers, and when you flinched she smirked. "you want me to fuck you, don't you babe, hm?"

you nodded, still with her dick in your mouth.

"wanna know a secret?"

again, you nodded.

"i'm only gonna let you cum again if you get on top," she pushed the hair from your face, "you think you can do that for me, hm?"

you nodded one final time and she stroked your hair, tapping your cheek and telling you to remove your mouth from her cock. you did as she instructed, and soon enough you were straddling her cock ready to be filled.

she flung your hoodie off of your body and it landed in your seat, your leggings pushed around your ankles. the cabin must've stunk of sex by now, but surely you weren't the only animals on the plane. it must've been a regular occurrence.

as you hovered over her cock, you faced each other and she brought your lips to hers as you slowly sunk down. your moans were muffled by the feeling of her lips on yours and thankfully nobody could hear.

you rocked your hips back and forth in an attempt to adjust to her size but she kissed along your jawline. "we haven't got a lot of time, baby, they'll be bringing out some food soon."

you nodded, and carefully raised and lowered your hips in a slow but stable rhythm. you knew, realistically that this wasn't going to make you cum, and teagan knew that too, but you loved to have at least a little bit of fun, even if you were pressed for time.

"want you to fuck me, teagan."

"like this? baby, you know that's not possible," she pressed a searing hot bite to the side of your boob, "unless, of course, you want everyone on this cabin knowing exactly how much of a slut you are for my dick. it's your choice, really."

you pouted when she swatted your hand away from your clit, realistically leaving you only one option.

"yes, teagan, like this," you nuzzled into her neck and she groaned when you bit down into it, sucking at the skin, "i want you to make me cum again."

she smirked, having you exactly where she wanted you. her hands hooked under your bum and she slowly started to raise her hips to meet your bounce, which made you gasp.

"don't tell me you've lost your manners."

"please, teagan."

"please, what?"

you rolled your eyes and she pinched your bum. "you know what."

she smirked again, sucking a nipple into her mouth and you fought off an annoyed huff. "i'm not going to do it until you tell me what you want me to do, darling."

"i want you to fuck me, teagan, right here, right now," your voice was low, but loud enough for everyone to hear all at the same time, "i want you to make me cum again. please."

with that, she was satisfied, and took no time doing exactly that. your arms braced around her head and your fingers interlocked at the back of her head, meaning your chest was pressed right up against her face which made you both even more desperate than before.

"o-oh... oh fu-uck, t-teagan," you tried to be quiet, but it was defenseless, your voice continuously breaking and desperately needing some form of relief, "your dick is so... oh, fuck."

she smirked against your skin and her teeth sunk into the inside of your boob as you fought off a continuous string of moans. your skin was slapping together and it was undoubtedly all anybody throughout the entire plane could hear, but you'd cross that bridge when you came to it.

your pussy clenched around her dick and she knew you wouldn't last much longer. "can't believe you want me to fill you up in public," she teased, knowing it would get you there quicker, "on a plane full of people, including my friends, you want me to fill you up with my cum, don't you?"

"y-yes," you whimpered, "t-teagan, please i'm desperate."

one of her hands sunk down between you and she circled your clit, and immediately you began to clench uncontrollably.

"i know you do, darling, you're such a good little girl, aren't you? c'mon, baby, cum for me and i'll fill you up."

your eyes clenched shut and you focused on the feeling of being full and having teagan's fingers on your clit, and within a matter of minutes you were falling apart on top of her. teagan's hand came over your mouth to cover the unholy moan that left it, and she kept her promise and filled you up almost straight away, milking her dick of every last drop as she groaned.

your body fell limp on top of her, and you dreaded the walk of shame to the bathroom in order to clean yourself up, and you toyed with the idea of just throwing a blanket over you and laying there until you fell asleep, but you didn't want to give the flight attendant a heart attack.

"do we have to go and do the walk of shame through the cabin?" you questioned softly after a few minutes, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"you're the one full of cum, darling. not me."

"i know, but you have to come with me, by default," you kissed her lips softly, "i'll make sure it's worth your while."

she smirked and raised an eyebrow, which made you smile immediately. "i'll come with you to the bathroom, and then once we've eaten and had an hours sleep, you can eat me out all you want, darling. that's a promise."

"excellent," you hummed, "then the rest of the cabin'll really hate us."

[onemoregayapollokid]

Who's The Healer Now?

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Pairing: Will Solace/Nico Di Angelo

Words: 1897

Warnings: Injury, blood, angst, mild language.

Summary: Camp Half Blood's only medic is injured and Nico has to help patch him up. A/N: Huge thank you to my beta reader, @just-some-teag! This would not be finished without your support.

With keen interest, Will watched from his spot beside a target as Harley picked up his bow, eyes on the target some paces away with wide eyes. The son of Hephaestus glanced over his shoulder to where his older brother Leo was leaning casually against an unused target. Will leaned against Nico gently, feeling more than seeing Nico turn his head to bury his nose in Will's blond curls.

" Enjoying yourself?" Will asked gently, eyes still on Harley and eyes on Harley and Leo as the older son of Hephaestus gestured to the target, though his words were lost in the chill wind that swept through the valley. 

“I’m with you; of course, I’m enjoying myself,” Nico responded, nudging his head gently against Will’s.

Down in the arena, Harley was facing the target again, with Leo hovering near his shoulder. The older of the two giving last-minute instructions, Will assumed. Harley took a deep breath, widening his stance as he drew his bow, holding it at a full draw as he lined up his shot.

"He's looking better," Nico noted. Will nodded, watching Harley with an experienced eye.

"He's still shaky and hasn't dropped a shot in a few days. He's really improved from when he started."

"When we thought he'd send everyone near him to the infirmary?" Nico questioned, a small smile on his face. Will nodded, chuckling.

"In his defence, he was a new camper and didn't actually injure anyone." Nico snorted, reaching out and taking Will's hand in his own. Will turned his head to beam at Nico, brushing his lips over the back of Nico's hand before returning his attention to Harley just in time to watch him release his shot. The arrow flew through the air, embedding itself in the target some feet away. Harley spun to look at Leo, a grin threatening to split his face in half. Leo pushed himself off the target, bounding over to his brother, gripping his shoulders as Leo shouted happily at Harley. Leo made his way to the target, gathering the arrow as Harley chattered at him. Nico watched them for a moment before turning to Will. 

“I’m just going to run to my cabin and get a jacket; I won’t be long.” 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Will offered, half rising from his seat. Nico shook his head. 

“No, I’ll be okay. Besides, we should probably have a medic on hand just in case they injure themselves,” Will nodded in response, sinking back into his seat. Nico ruffled his hair lightly, pressing a kiss to the top of Will’s head before making his way across the arena. Leo waved at him, jogging over to speak to him. 

“ Taking off already? Harley’s just warming up!” Leo stated, pride evident in his voice. Nico shook his head. 

“I’m just running to get a jacket- the wind is colder than it looks to those who feel the cold. I’ll be back soon, though, “ Nico assured the son of Hephaestus. Leo grinned, then waved Nico off, heading back to his younger brother as he set himself up for another shot. 

Will leaned back against the hard back of the wooden bleacher. Harley was aiming his shot again, lifting and feeling the wind’s drag and feeling for the right angle. He glanced at Will, who smiled encouragingly and gave him a thumbs up. Harley reached into his quiver, pulling another arrow out and nocking it. He took a deep breath. He drew his arm back, still shaking a bit. 

“You got this!” Leo called behind Harley, grinning at Will over his brother's head. 

“You’re looking good,” Will offered from his seat beside the target. 

“Really?” Harley asked, swinging to look at Will. 

“Hey, Harley- maybe don’t point a drawn bow at our only medic right now, “ Leo scolded gently.

“Yeah, at least wait until Austin or Kayla show up, so if I die, there’s someone to heal all the injuries that come with this camp,” Will added, smiling to take the sting out of his words. 

“No dying on my watch- Nico will murder me,” Leo admonished. Will laughed as Harley turned to face his target again.

Harley lined up his shot, feeling the push and pull of the wind. His brow furrowed as he drew his bow to a full draw. Will leaned his head against the seatback, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh. Will heard the deep thrum of Harley releasing his arrow, a sudden shriek of wind and a panicked shout from Leo. Will’s eyes snapped open at Leo’s shout, and at the same moment, he felt a sharp pain shoot across his thigh. Will let out a ragged gasp, clutching at the top of his thigh where blood had already begun to weep from the wound. Leo appeared beside him, breathing heavily. 

“Harley has gone to get Nico. They’ll be here soon,“ Leo assured Will, kneeling beside him. Will gasped softly, clutching at his leg, blood seeping through his fingers. 

“Will,” Leo’s voice was firm and solemn when it was normally one word away from a laugh. Will tore his eyes from his leg to look at Leo. Will blinked rapidly, vision blurring at the edges. Leo was frowning, eyes focused on the blood seeping through Will’s fingers. 

“I need you to talk to me, tell me what to do. I’m not a medic. I need you to tell me what to do.” 

Will nodded jerkily. Leo helped the other demigod off his seat, laying him on the arena floor. Leo knelt back beside Will. The son of Apollo gritted his teeth, breathing slowly through his nose as waves of pain rolled through his body. 

“Will!” Nico cried, skidding to a halt and dropping to his knees beside Will, reaching out with shaky hands and brushing the hair off Will’s forehead. 

“‘M okay, Neeks,” Will’s voice was low. Nico glanced between Will’s face and the wound still bleeding onto the dirt below Will. 

“You're not fine. You're actively bleeding out,” Nico’s voice was shaking, panic evident in his eyes. Will’s hands, slick with blood, slipped from his leg, thudding mutely onto the dirt below him. Nico pressed his hands onto the wound firmly, staunching the flow of blood. 

“Leo,” Nico snapped over his shoulder, “ Will’s bag is sitting by the arena entrance. Run and grab it; it has the nectar and ambrosia.” Leo was running before Nico finished his sentence. Nico turned his attention back to Will, flinching at the sight of blood- Will’s blood- coating his hands. Nico bit at his lip, glancing from the wound to Will’s face. He frowned at how pale Will was. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” Will tried to soothe Nico, reaching with shaky hands and smoothing a thumb over his cheek, leaving a trail of bloody mud behind. 

“It’s not alright.” Nico’s voice was shaky. “ I don’t have medical training. You are bleeding and dying, and I don’t know how to stop it.” 

“Nico, I have no plans on dying today.” 

“Tell me what to do,” Nico snapped again as Leo ran around the corner with Will’s bag clutched tightly in his hand. Leo dropped to his knees beside Will, rummaging through the bag desperately. He pulled out a semi-squashed bar of ambrosia. Leo broke a small piece off, helping Will sit up slightly. Nico swore as the increased movement caused blood to spurt around his hands. Will ate the ambrosia, leaning slightly against Leo. The effect was immediate. The blood that had gushed out of Will’s leg slowed to a stream, then to a trickle, before finally stopping completely. Nico pulled his hands back, watching as the skin mended itself. Will sat up gingerly. Nico sat beforethe Will, hands still shaking, rechecking the taller boy’s leg. 

“Nico?” Will questioned softly. Nico dragged his eyes away from Will’s leg to look his boyfriend in the face. Will’s blue eyes were clear, colour returning to his face. Nico trembled, a sob catching in his throat,  launching himself at Will who caught him easily. 

“That’s my cue to leave,” Leo announced to no one in particular, standing up and rushing out of the arena. 

“Hey,” Wil’s voice was rough, but stronger than it had been a moment ago. 

“Hey, Nico. I’m alright. It’s okay- it all turned out okay. I’m okay, I promise. I got you,” Will reassured Nico, hand rubbing soothingly up and down the smaller man's spine as Nico shoved his face into the crook of Will’s neck. 

“Sunshine,” Nico’s voice broke, pressing himself even closer to Will. 

“I’m here, Nico. I’m here,” Will assured him, arms tightening around Nico’s waist. He pulled the smaller boy half onto his lap, hand on the back of Nico’s head. Nico sobbed quietly, gasping for breath. 

“Nico, hey Neeks. I’m alright, angel. It’s alright,” Will soothed, voice soft in Nico’s ear. Nico clung to Will’s shirt, probably smearing blood across the fabric but couldn’t find it in him to care.

"Nico," Will murmured, brushing his lips against Nico's hair. Nico took a shuddering breath, lifting his head from Will's shoulder. The son of Hades released Will's shirt, reaching instead to cup his cheeks with his hands.

"I'm sorry," Nico choked out, his thumbs smoothing over Will's cheeks. Will reached out and brushed the tears off his face. Nico took a shuddering breath, struggling desperately to get his breathing back under control.

"It scared the shit out of me- to see you laying there bleeding,” Nico's voice broke and he had to take a moment to compose himself again. Will remained silent, covering Nico's hands with his own, squeezing gently.

"It just scared me" Nico finally whispered, glancing up at Will through his eyelashes. Will nodded, pulling one of Nico's hands off his face. He guided Nico's hand to his chest, pressing it gently to his chest, letting Nico feel Will's heart beating steadily under his palm.

"There's nothing to apologize for," Will whispered, smiling softly at Nico.

Nico sat up, scooting off Will's lap to sit beside him. Will draped an arm around Nico's shoulders, tugging him closer to press a kiss to his hair.

"I know it scared you, and I'm sorry. But I promise I'm okay."

"I'm telling Chiron we need more than just you as medic at one time," Nico muttered. Will grinned at him, reaching out to take his hand. Will squeezed Nico's hand gently, intertwining their fingers.

"Probably isn't a bad idea." Will responded. He stood up, offering a hand to Nico, pulling the smaller man to his feet. Will caught Nico by the waist, pulling him flush against Will's body. Will leaned his forehead against Nico's, breath fanning across the Son of Hades' face. Nico went up on his tiptoes, pressing his lips firmly against Will's. Nico kissed Will like he would never get another chance, pouring every ounce of love for the other boy he had into it. Will kissed back just as desperately, clinging to the smaller boy. Nico pulled back, leaning his head against Will's chest, breathing heavily.

"I love you," Will whispered into his hair.

Nico looked at Will, slipping a hand into his.

"Love you too, sunshine. I am taking you to rest in my cabin, though." Will laughed at that, squeezing Nico’s hand again. 

“ Lead the way.” Was all he said, following Nico easily towards the cabins.

[thereseuwu]

Is there a way to access the teag discord???? I don't find It anywhere 🥹

Hellooooo~!!! I got into the discord link with the comment section from TEAG's itch.io thing....

God, I need to learn terms more— ANYWAYS!! Be sure to chat there, pookie <333 we're all very nice (and totally sane) there.....

You could also check out @hungry-hungry-reader because they too also have the discord fun club's link! AND MY GOD THEY'RE SO FUCKING GOOD AT WRITING.... ( @patokascribbles IS THEIR ART ACCOUNT AND SHE'S GOOD AT ART TOO.... BROSKI HAS TWO SKILLS!!!!)

https://discord.gg/uWGKq2Zh

Here's the link into the fun club! Please do be respectful as the actual creator (our tears on her latina eyes Moai) is on the server!!! BUT FEAR NOT! SHE'S SO NICE AND LIKE.... LITERALLY—

She's just a bit busy and all :3....

See you there, pookie~! U3U

[stuckstucktrolls]

Oz is... so-so with children. But shit is so weird on this planet so they're doing their best. So it's a lot of time spent making sure TinyTeags doesn't easedrop on church business, keeping him fed, providing a lot of books, art supplies, chores to keep active, and a constant escort of either owl or wolf dad when he's busy with church activites.

TinyTeags for his part seems to look up to Oz. He doesn't like most chores but does them to the best of his abilities if it makes Oz happy. He is very happy with anything Oz feeds him and is a voracious reader, as long as it's a fun story or has interesting science facts. He went with Wolf Dad early on to get his old Lusimutation books from storage at his old hive.

Luckily, young trolls seem pretty self-sufficient, and he keeps himself hidden away when there's a lot of adults around, sticking to the parts of the church that are actually the hive. Unluckily, he likes being a little spy and tries to get into things he shouldn't.

Wolf Dad is a bit confused but at least he's been through this before. Owl Dad might have more issues. Also Oz gets to here Teags doing the baby awoos when he's out with Wolf Dad.

[thebandcampdiaries]

Shower Me Blue (Interview)

We had the chance to catch up with Shower Me Blue. Keep reading for a full interview!

Please introduce the members of Shower Me Blue and instruments played.

Introducing… On stage right (your left) - is Gilles (“Jeel”) Palmarini. The twangy thing hanging over his shoulder is a guitar, usually with 6 strings, which he vigorously plays while singing lovely melodies. Some people say… he was born under a no smoking sign, but all we can say is he is our lead guitar player who also sings lead vocals.

Over on the stage left (your right if you’re dancing up at the stage) - is our resident bottom end maestro and general manager of low frequency mayhem - Bill Teags. Some people say… he has an alien mindset, but all we can say is he plays bass with a genuine smirk.

Stuck in the middle, usually up on a level higher than the rest of the crew AND sitting on a throne - is Dingo. Some people say he likes sitting a circle with a bunch of furry creatures, but all we can say is he is the keeper of all things beat-worthy and thumping’ sumpin’ awesome - our drummer!.

What drew you into the music industry?

We told our parents it was to learn more about culture. But really it was to get a chance to stand on a street corner in the rain and learn the fine art of busking without getting busted. Seriously (if we have to be serious about this)… we all feel that music is an art and that somehow we are living with the gift of being able to create art in the form of music. It’s like you are born with this musical ability and it is really cool to be able to share it with others.

Top band inspirations?

We are inspired to get all perspired in front of the biggest crowd we can! Is that the answer? No? OK - we get inspiration from a lot of stuff that is happening around us. When Gilles is writing, he has a really cool ability to start throwing out words that form a story, mostly about events he is experiencing. As we bring each song to life, we are inspired by the words and try to evoke a feeling in our listeners - to inspire them as well.

Over the years we have been inspired by a lot of different music and musicians. You could count anything that is really memorable as an inspiration.

Please tell us how you interact with and respond to fans?

Our fans drive us!! Sometimes during a live show we can feel a connecting vibe with our fans - there is a virtual interaction happening.

We do have a website and a bunch of social media accounts (Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, SnapChat for example). But we like to get our fans more involved. We are planning to have a bit of a contest to create the new album cover. We don’t quite have all the details sorted, but it is going to involve an adult coloring contest!

We also have plans to get our fans to help us finish writing the lyrics to one of our new songs. It’s a fairly personal song and we think that our fans might have some really important things to contribute - so stay tuned and friend, follow and like us to learn more!

Do you often collaborate with other musicians?

At present we work as a trio. But, we all get to sit in and jam with other players, which is really cool.

Do you all write equally or do certain members handle the writing duties?

Most of the writing is done by Gilles, as he has this incredible ability to rattle off new ideas that suddenly turn into a song. We all contribute to the shape of the song, but Gilles is the one who is always noodling out something new (before the others get a chance!!)

Explain your live show for our readers…

Right now our live show is pretty basic - 3 guys bringing you a very large sound. We do have plans for adding in more video and sampled stuff next year. It’s amazing what you can put on a thumb drive these days!! We do have MIDI capability right now with both drums and bass (yeah - a real MIDI bass!), so after we get our album finished our next step is to work in the MIDI rigs.

What advise do you have for new emerging artists?

Don’t give up!! We haven’t - and we don’t plan to. Our best advice it to believe in yourself, but be very willing to listen to others. It’s a crazy world out there and there is no straight path to anything (“never straight - always forward”?). The good stuff never comes easy and opportunity never finds you - you find it!

New music releases coming soon?

In December we go into eTown Studios in Boulder to record our new album. We have Stuart Sullivan from Austin coming up to produce us. He has a pretty cool list of people he has worked with, so we are really excited to have him involved in our project! Look for singles to start dropping after the first of the year and a vinyl album around mid-year.

Tour plans for 2019 and beyond?

Right now we are building up our presence in and around Colorado for the first half of 2019. We are looking into a few festivals and possibly a larger tour later in the year. (Hey - If you and 5,000 of your BFF Facebook friends like us, let us know where you live, maybe we can put something together!

facebook.com/showermeblue instagram.com/showermeblue soundcloud.com/shower-me-blue

[hungry-hungry-reader]

Little Nulla adoration snippet to celebrate Halloween with :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“…Beautiful.”

“Sorry?” Nulla’s void form started to shift before your eyes as he recalled his old face.

“You are beautiful, Nulla.”

You spoke with the reverence he had only heard in prayers — none of which were directed at him before. Your gaze followed the swirling patterns the void drew out in the air like smoke which was picked up by a gust of air. Nulla froze in place as you took a couple of steps, closing the short stretch between the two of you.

If he needed to breathe, he would have forgotten how to.

If you had to describe your lover now, you would recall Van Gogh’s Starry Night or Rembrandt’s Night Watch.

And then you would throw all these comparisons away because no work of art could truly encapsulate the vision of picturesque idyll himself who stood right before you. You watched with trepidation as his darker than night itself features shifted, changed hue, giving way to the opaline blues and purples. You watched the dance colors on the canvas of his flustered face as Nulla found himself not simply lost for words, but utterly stunned by your display of adoration towards the form he perceived less desirable.

You reached out your hand in an attempt to grasp at the ethereal form of the one whom you love most dearly.

He didn’t dare move, afraid of scaring you away.

Yet, when the tips of your fingers finally reached featureless void, Nulla grabbed your wrist and leaned into your touch. The crushing weight of this wretched world felt like nothing more than a tiny spec of dust on the shoulder pad of his vest. Your sincere smile took away the years of torment. Your loving gaze made him forget the hatred he felt towards those who wronged him. Your warmth melted away the ice within the gazes he threw at this universe.

Your love gave him the point for existing.

“Thank you.”

[hungry-hungry-reader]

Idk if this is too suggestive or not buuut how about a scenario where nulla gets smothered in kisses? Lips, face, neck.... He deserves to be pampered a bit 🥹

Eheheheheehhe. This is SO CUTE. 

And no, this isn’t too suggestive! Romance and kisses are a-okay. “Suggestive” would be something risqué, exploring sexual themes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Nulla?” 

You woke up all alone within his domain, but the sudden lack of a very handsome gentleman in your presence after you went to bed with him watching over you was almost startling. Of course, Nulla had his duties, and as he said, the time moves a lot slower for him than it does for you. That didn’t, however, remedy the fact that you missed seeing the owner of the void, dammit! How could you not miss him, let’s be honest here. 

What surprised you even more is that he didn’t come when you called out for him. That was odd. Sure, Nulla was his own person with his own responsibilities, but he usually arrived as soon as you called out to him. He couldn’t resist being away from you! And when you wanted him to be near, how could he say no? But it was okay for him not to come at your first whims. But you did have some time to kill now, so you went ahead and climbed out of the bed, heading straight for the table within your shared room with piles of documents, IDs, written notes, diary entries. Nulla didn’t hide from you the fact that he had lived many lives. Why would he? He wished you were in all of those lives, of course, but he was content with having you in this one. There was no need to hide what was if that ‘was’ was empty, lacking your presence. 

You couldn’t read everything you saw. Some of the papers in languages you didn’t speak, some washed out from the years of being left out, spilled ink and coffee. You perused the pages you could read, getting his history with a good friend of his whose disappearance impacted the trajectory of his life forever; you read some loose pages of his diary detailing his thoughts about the very Creator he oh so loathed for his fate. You noticed a seemingly newer loose page, his neat handwriting wrapping itself around the sheet with same elegance its owner held himself with. He wrote of you, gushing about your presence, your appearance, your voice, your… Your everything! Everything about you that Nulla could put on paper, he had been adoring, lovingly describing every little detail. You felt a blush rising on your face, and the same smile that he professed his undying affection to touch your features. You didn’t know it was mathematically possible for him to be more attractive to you than he already was, but here you were, standing in the middle of your room, ready to start gushing about him yourself, wanting nothing more than to kiss him. You NEEDED to kiss him, to smother them with kisses. You needed to show him how much you appreciated and loved him, just as much as he loved you.

“My apologies, mi vida, I got caught up with—” he broke the silence of the room with his presence.

 Usually, you were the one startled by his sudden appearance, but as soon as he arrived late to your call, you damn near took him off his feet! You cupped his face, placing one kiss, another, third, fourth… You lost count as you relentlessly peppered his face and neck with kisses, feeling him smile widely embracing you within his arms. He laughed giddily, happy to accept your unadulterated love and adoration. He couldn’t be happier. 

As you leaned away for just a moment to get a breath of air after forgetting how to breathe – you were that happy to pepper him with kisses – Nulla took this chance to, in turn, cup your face and place a deep, meaningful kiss on your lips. 

As you two parted after moments that felt entirely too short-lived, he smiled cheekily at your blushing self:

“I missed you too, cariño.”

[hungry-hungry-reader]

how about unum x nb! reader but it has a sunshine x grumpy trope hcs , btw I love your work so far.

Thank you for the compliment! :] First Unum request, let’s go!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unum is captivated by you. We all know that; it’s a commonly known fact. He isn’t particularly subtle about it.

And, let’s be honest, despite your cold and grumpy demeanor, you also like Unum plenty.

Not that you’ll ever admit it. I know what you are.

Considering how quickly he jumped the gun on your relationship, it took you some time to warm up to him fully.

Unum loves how seriously you take his questions and take the time to answer his endless questions about humans.

He climbs into your bed to watch you sleep, awaiting when you wake up to ask your questions.

Obviously, when you wake up, you probably toss a pillow at him or scold him for doing something like that without your knowledge.

But he can’t help it! He loves the sound of your voice and how your nose scrunches up when you scold him.

You grumble about how much he startled you, but you don’t tell him to leave. You will never admit out loud that you love his presence.

It became like a ritual to the two of you. Every morning, Unum somehow worms himself into your bed without notice (which is always surprising to you, considering how LOUD he usually is).

And every morning, you lovingly yell at him.

And every morning, he stares at you like a lovestruck fool because he is, in fact, a lovestruck fool.

Actually, now that I’m writing this, I see what you did there. SUNshine. HA.

Sorry, I’ll get back to it.

When he introduces you to his wives, they instantly get it. And not just because you’re a deliciously-smelling human.

Okay, maybe 40% of that is because you are a deliciously-smelling human.

But they accept you just as readily as Unum did!

All of it might be quite jarring and somewhat irritating for you, but you can see how earnestly Unum is actually trying for you, so you can’t stay mad for long. 

Until he does something stupid like feeding you his cooking of highly questionable quality.

Join Quinque in scolding him when you’re feeling better.

Do bear with him he doesn’t know much about what humans need.

But also he likes hearing your voice, so scold him more why don’t you.

He’ll look at you with that sad dopey face of his, and your heart will melt a bit more.

Just cook with him and his wives, instead of letting him figure it out all by himself, so you don’t get poisoned again.

Plus, it’s a cute bonding activity for all of you.

Thinking about it makes me giddy.

But you’re not me, so resist the cutesy charm, my friend. You must stay strong. You have the aura of mystery and aloofness to upkeep.

Godspeed, Creator’s strongest soldier (Unum lover) 

[hungry-hungry-reader]

Requests Reopened!

hiii!! I haven’t been active for a while now, but seeing the influx of new readers, I’ll try to get back into writing. I’ll reopen requests rn, but do give me a little bit of time to finish the Act 2 routes. Please, no OC requests at this time, if possible. I still have quite a few I need to sort through…

On a related note, Moai is amazing at character writing. Septem’s route got me hyped!

Stay tuned!

[hungry-hungry-reader]

Sorry, I didn’t write anything these couple of days. I see all of your requests, but I got sick, so my head is just empty and overheating. I’ll try to write something these couple of days, but I can’t promise I’ll post anything :[

[hungry-hungry-reader]

Masterlist!

I'll link all my works here! Septem

Septem and Rafael/Arcturus Headcanons - Septem and Rafael/OC

I Was Born Waiting - Septem/Reader fic. CW: Toxic Relationship Dynamic

Nulla

General Fluff Headcanons

Reader Wants to Move Out - Nulla/Reader Imagine

Unum

Soon!

Fames

Fames x Dione Cooking Lesson - Fames/OC imagine.

[hungry-hungry-reader]

You are an artist on a mission to create a proper depiction of your beloved for his temple. You don’t seem to get the color right...