#the three reapers future | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lalunanymph · 1 year ago

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𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── hanma loves his sweet wife, and he loves it even more when you’re barefoot and pregnant for him. but, when you complain he needs to lay of off you for a bit, he decides he's never going to fill you up again. unless you beg nicely, of course.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you're now reading . . . 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 + 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 with hanma shuji

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── wife!reader, fem!reader, mentions of pregnancy, reader is breastfeeding, unprotected s[e]x, oral s[e]x, established marriage, mentions of babies, shuji is obssessed with knocking us up, orgasm denial, future toman!shuji, hanma as a dad, mom!reader, loosely based off the characters in my series back to us

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It's no secret that Hanma Shuji is a difficult man.

His subordinates, old gang members and even his boss slash best friend, Kisaki Tetta, would bet on saying the same.

He was brash, violent and impulsive all rolled into one neatly pressed pinstripe suit and nicotine-roughened voice. The tattoos on the back of his hand shone more often than not with blood and gore than anything else, and he grew up on a steady diet of abuse and cheap thrills.

But, despite all of his atrocities, he was your husband and you loved him.

Even if you were currently exasperated over his determination to knock you up again when you had just came back from the hospital 8 weeks ago.

“Shuji, you have to stop,” your pleading tone slowed the roll of his hips.

Frowning, Hanma took a hard pause from fucking you, the look on his face laced with both confusion and worry.

“Shit, baby,” he plucked your hand from between your legs where it was steadily stimulating your clit, kissing the rise of your knuckles. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, unable to voice out the anxiety clouding your mind. Shuji, however, was always patient with your unravelling thoughts, and gave you the space you needed to sort out your emotions.

He had ceased every movement, waiting for you to speak.

“The babies,” you finally managed to mumble. “They’re still so young.”

Referring to your two sons and daughter, your strange observation had him cocking his head to the side.

“Uh-huh. Shusei is eight, Shiori is two, and Shunki is three months old. Am I missing something here?”

His tone was tainted with a sheen of frustration, and you could plainly hear the thoughts bouncing in his head: Did she really stop our love making just to ask about the kids?

“N-no,” you whispered, trying to get him to understand. “They’re still so young, Shuji. We… I don’t think we should have any more babies… for now.”

Your voice turned meek towards the end of your suggestion, and you braced yourself for Shuji’s uproar. If there was one thing your husband loved more than pleasing Kisaki and expensive cigars, it was the sight of you swollen and pretty with his babies.

And it wasn’t because of some weird masculine need to spread his seed thoroughly—Shuji actually enjoyed the pregnancy process together with you.

The six foot five Reaper would shrug off other people’s judgement to get you anything you were craving for even if he was in the middle of a deadly meeting. He was present for every single one of his children’s ultrasounds without fail—except for Shusei’s, but that was a prickly past you had learned to make peace with. Shuji would follow you wherever you went if he wasn’t busy with work, and if he was, he always had a group of men shadowing your every movement, terrified that someone would hurt his precious family once his back was turned.

As shocking as it was, the great Reaper of Tokyo was actually a fantastic family man.

Never would anyone in a million years come to that conclusion, but it was the truth. Shuji lived and breathed to take care of his small family… and unfortunately, it came with the territory of knocking you up whenever he felt like it.

Which was currently the issue you were trying to get him to see.

“I need to rest, baby,” you murmured, cupping his face to ease the sting of disappointment you knew he was feeling. “I’ve been pushing out babies for the past three years. My body, it’s… it’s not what it used to be.”

You gestured at your obvious stretch marks, at the cellulite speckling your thighs and abdomen. “It looks bad… I don’t know. I’m sorry. I felt like I needed to tell you this because I’m… I’m ovulating today.”

Usually, those golden words would have Shuji seeing red for the whole evening. And you did notice your husband’s throat bobbing at the knowledge of your body being fertile and ready for his cum.

But, he tried to understand where you were coming from, even if he didn’t like it.

“Baby,” Shuji cooed, caressing your face with one large palm, inked knuckles grazing your wobbling lower lip. “You’re so fucking beautiful to me, don’t you know? I don’t care about what your body looks like. I love you for you. Plus—” he grabbed your breast fondly, squeezing it much to your gasp of surprise. “—I love how these tits have fed my babies.” He moved his hand lower to your hip, kneading the plush flesh with a playful grin. “And these fucking hips? Majestic, baby. I could live in between your thighs forever.”

His words made your cheeks burn hotly, and you struggled to not let him derail you. Focus on the end goal, Y/N.

But, it wasn’t like you were going to lie to yourself—you wanted a huge family just like Shuji did. But, he had to understand about spacing out conception times so you didn’t feel like a big, ol’ baby making machine from the 1700s.

“Shuji, that’s not what I’m saying,” you whined, pouting. He sighed, and rolled you over, his softening cock slipping out of your twitching heat.

“What is it, darling?” he asked, intent on uncovering what’s got your thoughts in a twist. “If you’re worried I would find you unattractive, I won’t. Every time I remember I’m married to you, I get really nervous like… like, fuck—she’s still with me? I have the most beautiful woman as my wife?” His tone turned teasing, like it always did when he was trying to fluster you. “Give me a bit more credit, will you?”

Of course, you did, and you rolled your eyes, half in exasperation and half in spellbound charm for his sincere words.

“I know, baby,” you said, and took his face in your hands again, willing for him to understand. “But, I need you to promise me one thing—no getting me pregnant this year. Not until Shunki is at least two.”

Shuji looked like you had just told him to jump off a cliff. His golden eyes widened with disbelief, mouth falling slack.

“Baby—”

“I mean it, Shuji.”

And he knew you did. His sweet wife rarely sets such harsh boundaries, and he was coming to realise how much he had fucked up.

“Are you angry with me?”

The little glimmer of uncertainty and fear that you might leave him again reared its ugly head—something uncommon but understood when memories of what you both went through filled your uneasy mind.

“No, Shuji,” you took his face in your hands, tilting it close enough for your foreheads to touch. “I’m not. I love you. I just… want to not be pregnant for a bit.”

He hummed, the sound slightly fractured towards the end. You could tell Shuji hated this idea with every fibre of his being, but he wasn’t the one physically carrying any of the children. Despite how he had tried to make each of your pregnancies comfortable by constantly being at your beck and call, your reality was different. The swollen ankles, aching muscles, sleepless nights and horrifying cravings were all starting to catch up with you.

If you wanted to give Hanma a big family, you needed to take some breaks in between or else you would lose your mind.

“I get it,” he sighed, those brilliant golden eyes downcast. “It’s your body so it’s your choice. I understand, baby.”

You internally exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank you, baby,” you sealed your appreciation with a kiss, and Shuji returned the gesture back half-heartedly. Your husband was pouting like a kid whose candy got stolen, and you couldn’t resist a quiet chuckle at his expense.

“Look on the bright side—we could save up a little extra to take the kids for another holiday instead of buying diapers all the time.”

He met your optimism with a sour expression. “Yeah—if condoms weren’t so damn expensive.”

You fixed him with a disapproving look. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

Shuji rolled his eyes and then pinned you down into the bed with his bigger frame. “So, lemme get this straight—I can still fuck you, still cum in you… but you don’t want my babies?”

His words ignited a shiver of pleasure down your spine, and you cursed how susceptible you were to your husband’s seduction. Shuji could turn you on simply by lowering his voice and fixing you with his melting stare.

You swallowed hard, unsure how to reply to him. “W-well, yes—”

“Okay, fine,” he mumbled sourly. “Won’t do it, then.”

Sighing, you shook your head. “Okay, Shuji. Are you okay?”

He fixed you with an unfathomable look, and you were sure he would say something sarcastic. But, all your husband did was pull you into his embrace, kissing your hair.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. We’re okay.”

Then, he mumbled, “I won’t cum in you tonight, baby. You can trust me on that.”

And, you did. Shuji had proven to you time and time again how he religiously kept his word. Everytime he said that you were the only one or how he only wanted you in his life, he backed it up with real actions—like spending an entire night awake to take care of Shiori when she was down with a flu while you got your much needed rest; your pregnancy with Shunki wearing you out more than usual.

You should’ve known Shuji was a man of his words, but like two extremes, Shuji could never find a balance.

And this time, he took his promise overboard.

“Shuji,” you sobbed, completely lost in your pleasure. “A-Ah, I’m close!”

Your nails bit into his shoulders, the bathroom tiles shimmering in your periphery. Shuji had your knees pressed to your chest, rearranging your guts with languid strokes as the bath steam perfumed the air with lavender fragrance.

Your back was pressed to the grand mirror, and his lips were on yours, drinking every honeyed moan you had to offer him.

Hanging by a single thread of your sanity, you were close enough to taste your orgasm.

Shuji was steadily wrecking you, hellbent on bringing you past the threshold of pleasure that you both barely cared to keep it down.

His hoarse groans were swallowed by your eager mouth, and your every purr went straight to his overstimulated cock.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby,” he groaned, crowding you further up the cool glass, intent on invading every inch of your space with his dominating presence. “Wanna hear you scream my name—w-wanna… ah, fuck, you don’t want t’get knocked up.”

At the mention of getting you pregnant again, you whined, shaking your head.

“D-don’t—please, Shu.”

He shook his head, reassuring you with a gentle squeeze on your thigh. “I won’t doll, I won’t. You know I won’t.”

Your syrupy hiccup was met with a soft, sympathetic kiss on your jaw.

“Ssh, ssh, darling. Don’t worry your head off, okay—a-ah, oh f—you feel so good.” Shuji’s beautiful golden eyes were heavy with lust, every weighty snap of his hips pushing his shaft to rub your sensitive spots deeper, making you see stars.

“I’m gonna cum,” every fibre of your soul was aching for your husband, your body echoing the same feat—demanding for Shuji to fulfil your gnawing lust. “G-gah, I-I’m g-gonna cum, Shuji—”

“F-fuck, me too, doll—fuck, fuck, you gotta—shit, shit, m’cumming—fuck!” Your husband’s guttural groan right in your ear made your insides flutter around his thick length, and you were rapidly melting for him; first your bones turning jelly, your muscles screaming and then your pussy was pulsing around him, ready to drop over the sweet, sinful edg e—

Shuji yanked you back from the edge when he practically ripped his cock from your swollen depths, jerking his raw and red cock hard. You barely had time to cry out in despair when you felt a hot spray coating your pelvis and thighs.

The room was spinning, your whited-out mind reemerging back from the fog as one singular thought blared loudly like a hurricane siren: Shuji denied my orgasm.

The devil in question exhaled out a laugh which stirred the loose hairs stuck to your neck with sweat. “You alright, baby?”

Your mouth fell open, about to whine out your displeasure, when he tilted your face up, handsome face completely suffused with love as he kissed you slow and deep.

“You should get cleaned up,” he murmured, lips a heated stroke from yours, and yet so far away.

“Shuji—”

“I have some documents to wrap up,” he pried himself free from the beckoning circle of your arms, his smile touched with regret.

All you could do was gawk at him, dumbfounded by how he brushed your arousal aside like it barely even mattered. This was out of character for the man you intimately knew as your husband. Shuji had once eaten you out until his jaw went numb just so he could feel you cum on his tongue—his blase attitude towards your denied orgasm didn’t make sense.

“H-hey, I didn’t cum yet—”

“Hmm?” he cut you off, a pinch in his brow. “What do you mean, baby?”

Flushing in anger, you pried him back into your arms, jaw clenched in fury. “Don’t be an asshole, Shu. I didn’t cum yet and I was so close. You knew I was close—”

“Sheesh, okay,” Shuji gently disentangled your hands from his body, giving you a smug grin. “I know you’re always a bitch in heat for me, but I honestly thought you came already.”

Your jaw fell open, the anger giving way to disbelief. Your husband quickly pecked your cheek, backing away on his long legs in preparation for your mounting wrath.

Quickly hopping onto your feet, you fully intended to chase him down and make him get on his knees for being so mean to you, when a familiar cry over the baby monitor stopped you short.

Shuji had already disappeared into his office, and you were left with the selfish decision of marching in to give him a piece of your frazzled mind, or tending to your baby. In the end, your motherly instinct won out, and you quickly slipped on your night robe, wincing at how you had to wash it now that the material had touched your husband’s cum as you hurried down the hallway to Shunki’s room.

Your baby boy was red in the face, screaming at the top of his lungs to be fed. You didn’t hesitate to shrug off one shoulder of your robe, placating him with your milk as he latched on hungrily. You fed your son and rocked him gently, brushing the baby fuzz on his head to get him to calm down. Once Shunki had his fill, you burped and cuddled him, waiting for his eyes to slip close after a fulfilling feeding.

Setting your son down to sleep in the crib, you had to take a quick shower and hurry to tuck both Shiori and Shusei in.

Once the children were all asleep, you had almost forgotten about the simmering lust in your veins, until the reminder of your soiled robe in the hamper stopped you up short.

Shuji would be working till late tonight, and there was no chance of him tending to your needs.

Somehow, you sensed it was because of the boundary you placed on him a few days ago which incited your husband’s petty actions. Which was a shame, because you were about to suggest hopping back on the pill if he refused to wear a condom. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before; at least one of you had to be responsible for the family planning, and unfortunately, the onus seemed to fall on your shoulders.

So, you trudged back to bed, too tired to deal with your arousal and hoping it would go away when morning came.

… Only, you couldn’t fall asleep.

You stayed awake, tossing and turning; wishing Shuji were here to hold you.

Unbidden, you reached for his side of the bed and found it empty.

Lying up, you rubbed your eyes, reaching for your thin cardigan. Even though you were angry with him, you still wanted his comfort and love. Without a second thought, you trudged into his office, startling him from his papers.

“Oh? Darling.”

Like a child, you padded over to him, throwing yourself onto his lap and burying your face in his neck.

Shuji held you close, inhaling the scent of lavender from your hair greedily. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Mhm,” you smacked his chest lightly. “‘Cause of you, dumbass.”

His deep laughter rumbled under your cheek. “What did I do now?”

“Don’t act stupid,” you grumbled under your breath.

“Baby, I’m serious.”

This close to him, your senses were ignited and tingling; a rush of desire flooding south to stain your innocent cotton panties with a bone-deep need for your husband.

“You’re so mean, Shuji,” your whine reached his heated ears, and he strangled back a chuckle at your expense. Sensing your cresting arousal, he ran his rough palms down your back, warming you up under your thin night clothes.

“Yeah, I guess I was. I didn’t make my baby cum. I’m a bad husband for that.”

“Mhm hmm,” you petulantly agreed. Sitting straighter, you inched off his lap to perch on the edge of his desk. Parting your legs, you dangled your arousal right in front of him, the innocence on the curve of your brow contrasting vividly with the wet spot his sights immediately latched onto. “So, what’re you going to do to make it up to me?”

His hollow chuckle sounded strained, even to his own ears. He wrapped an inked palm on your bare thigh, calloused thumb rubbing circles into the heated flesh.

“I guess you have to show me, darling.”

This was the thing about your husband; while you were given full reign on the house and his emotions, Shuji still held all the cards when it came to your body. You had barely cared before; he had always made sure to put your pleasure above anything else in his life. But, in this instant, when you could feel the tides of power shifting uncertainty from one stubborn end to another, the ball was in your court to determine how you wanted this night to end.

Shuji was giving you both an out and an in—waiting on the choice you were going to make.

Without a word, you nudged his hand away, and parted your thighs further, slowly inching down your panties. His pen dug into your side, and you impatiently shoved it away, the pesky item rolling down the desk to clatter onto the floor.

Once your cunt was naked and dripping in front of him, you didn’t hesitate to rub your clit, literally taking your pleasure into your own hands.

“Is this how you wanted me to react?” you quietly goaded, a fire in your eyes he found breathtakingly beautiful. Shuji responded by sitting back into his chair to get a good look at you touching yourself, those golden eyes infuriatingly unreadable. “By forcing your hand? You’re sick, Shuji. J-just because I enforced a boundary, you—nghh—want to punish me.”

Your circles turned jerky, the previously denied orgasm he didn’t give you rearing fully back to the surface. The room was sticky and hot, the air saturated with the smell of seduction and repressed need.

You couldn’t see it, but Shuji was holding tightly to the arms of his desk chair, outwardly patient while you got yourself off; inwardly dying to feel your walls choke his cock.

However, he hesitated to react; in some sick, twisted sense, he wanted to see how far he could push you—how much you could take until you crumbled.

He was always the more active one in pursuing your physical pleasure while you allowed him to dominate you and lead you down endless carnal paths. This time, Shuji took one step back, letting you decide what you wanted—because to him, your words and actions weren’t matching. The woman who didn’t want him to breed her, was displaying her pussy fully just for him; begging him earlier this now to make her cum. Every part of you begged for him deep inside you, but he had to make sure this was what you truly wanted.

“Shuji,” your sweet whine made his cock throb. “God—f-fuck—must I beg you to touch me?”

Immediately he pushed your hand aside, cheek pressed to the inside of your thigh as he greedily inhaled your arousal. In hindsight, it was your fault for goading him, because for the next hour, Shuji ate you out until you were dripping onto his proposal papers, smearing Toman’s next steps around your sweaty, writhing body as you came again and again for your husband.

His tongue rubbed on your tender spots deep inside you, his nose pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing back and forth back and forth until you cried out gonna cum again Shu, g-gonna cum again—

He let you grind your pussy all over his face, let your hands twine in his hair to hold him in place while you found your unravelling for the third time tonight.

Once your thighs had stopped spasming, he eased back, lips glossy and lower chin drenched in your juices.

Pulling you into his lap, Shuji’s hard cock strained against his slacks, surely leaking now from how long he had teased himself—held himself back from ravaging you like you deserved. But, even saints were humans who had a limit to their patience, and Shuji would never delude himself to believe he was a good man.

He was as rotten as they came—corrupted both inside and out. But, his love for you would always be his salvation.

You brought out the man underneath the monster; only you were able to claw him out from the dark and into your arms.

You were his salvation, and Shuji was going to make sure you were ruined for him.

“Undress me.”

Those hooded golden eyes pushed you to unbuckle his belt first, your shaky hands pressing down on his broad pecs, trembling when they unbuttoned his dress shirt.

Shuji simply sat back, studying the adorable concentration scrunching your brow as you tried to quickly take what you wanted. His dress shirt slid down his scarred shoulders, and his cock finally sprang free from behind the restrictive material of his slacks.

It was your turn to undress. You eased the flimsy silk nightgown from your shoulders, letting it fall in a pool by your waist. Shuji’s intensity threatened to swallow you whole—from the smouldering heat in his amber eyes to his parted lips, he was looking at you like you were a rare feast laid out for him.

Those large palms cupped your breasts, massaging your swollen nipples and toying with them until you winced. He lifted you up slightly to slide the pretty black nightgown fully off you, leaving you bare and vulnerable just for his scrutiny.

Shuji’s lips were on yours, drowning you with his kisses that tasted of whisky and cloying impatience. You drank him in deeply, until you felt like your lungs would puncture and overflow. His tongue slipped past the shaky barrier of your mouth, intimately dancing with yours as you both savoured and teased each other.

“Shuji…” your breathless sigh never failed to get him light-headed. He loved how his name always sounded coming from your sacred lips.

Cupping your face in his hands, he gently pecked your nose, cheeks and lips, while subtly nudging you further up his torso so his cock could brush your entrance. Your first gasp rang through the room, the sensation of his fat tip pushing past the tight muscle an experience you never wanted to give up.

Suddenly, this game of cat and mouse snapped your patience in half, and you wanted nothing more than to feel his hot cum flooding your womb.

“Shuji…” your gasp was swallowed by his feral mouth on yours, kissing away any of your anticipated complaints.

But, you were done restricting your husband from the most tender parts of yourself. It was his right to defile you; to drive his hips deeper and deeper into you until you bore him the fruits of both your labours.

Sacrilege was never giving Hanma Shuji what he wanted when all he wanted was you.

“I need you…”

Hanma’s ears pricked, hearing something more than desperation in your sweet request.

“Yeah, doll? What do you need?”

He would always have a sixth sense whenever you were struggling with piecing together your needs. Shuji wanted to count all of your insecurities and pin them onto the bruises of his body just so he could brush them softly whenever they started to hurt.

Lifting your glossy, tear-filled eyes, you hiccuped: “You.”

His chuckle brushed your parted mouth, nose grazing yours. “You already have me.”

“No,” you whined, bucking your hips to take him at a deeper angle. The both of you hissed out curses, the sloppy sounds of your pussy taking his dick growing louder and fervent. “No, I want you. A-all of you.”

The pricking in his ears turned into a roaring. Shuji couldn’t make out a maths equation for his life, but he was pretty sure he counted every cadence of desire in your tone which led him to one singular conclusion: you were begging to be bred.

A smile of pure triumph spread across his face, hidden in your hair. “Yeah?” he struggled to keep his voice from shaking in excitement. “But, you already have me, doll. What more could you want?”

He meant to tease you; to goad you further until you broke and bent just for him.

Shuji needed to hear those words leaving your lips, all for the sake of his bruised ego.

“I… I need you.” Your soft bleat went straight to his heart. God, he was so fucking in love with you; no one could change that fact. Come hell or high water, Shuji was all fucking yours till the end.

He kissed your temple, soft and unhurried with his thrusts. “Where do you need me, baby?”

Close. He was so close to breaking you.

You groaned, the sound filled with lust and frustration—a little bit of your insanity leaking through. “Shuji!”

If your whine was meant to scare him into acting, all it did was make his bastard grin grow wider. Hanma kissed down your neck, placating your impatience with the sweet temptation of his lips. You tensed in his arms, ready to slip down the freefall. But, his hesitation was keeping you from fulfilling your high.

One minute turned into two. The inner restraint you harboured fraying at the edges, like a glass dome showing cracks in the middle. Rocked by an earthquake, your resolve was fracturing bit by bit. Shiny shards slipped down your cheeks when the axis tilted and spun but never broke you—and so, you decided to take a sledgehammer to your own stubbornness and shatter those walls.

“Inside!” Your cry could’ve woken up the neighbours if Shuji hadn’t smartly made his entire office soundproof. “I want you—ngh—inside!”

Your husband didn’t waste a single second. Grabbing you by the plush fat of your thighs, he nudged you up in one swift move, spreading you across his wide, oak desk. Shuji’s snarl would’ve been terrifying if you weren’t so relieved to feel him going deeper, throwing your legs over his shoulders to touch that spot inside that always made you melt for him.

His face was between your breasts, peppering the jiggling flesh with soft kisses and sharp nips which made you squeal. Shuji used every bit of his strength to push his hips forward, over and over again until you saw stars in the back of your eyelids—your orgasm threatening to explode like the formation of a new universe.

You welcomed the implosion with open arms, your lips on his; the desk rattling and eventually groaning as the full effects of your passions ricocheted around the room.

Shuji’s gritted cry of your name, and your delirious moan melted into a sloppy meeting of tongues and teeth, his warmth filling you up, right where he belonged in the deep embrace of your body.

You held him close to your thrumming heart, feeling him soften and relax in your hold.

For a long minute, neither of you spoke—Shuji was afraid to look up in case he crossed a line, and you were dazed, trying to recover from your earth-shattering release.

He felt your fingers scratching his scalp, and that little move was enough for him to summon a shred of courage to look you in the eye. Your smile was soft, if a little hazy, those pretty eyes latched onto him with a woozy affection.

“Are you okay?” Shuji gripped your hand tightly in his, hoping he hadn’t scared you away again.

But, you shook your head, beaming angelically at him. “I’m fine, Shu.”

His nickname and your relaxed countenance made some of the fears stop dancing in his mind. He heaved a sigh of relief, pressing his forehead to your neck and inhaling your sweet scent lightly.

How could you have ever denied your husband what he wanted whenever he looked at you with such pure love in his eyes?

Every fibre of his body echoed an affection which remained steadfast and sure—you were positive if it resulted in more love to bring into this household, you would welcome those blessings with open arms.

“What changed your mind?”

You hummed, relaxing further into the unyielding wood, safe and sound in his embrace.

“You.”

Shuji furrowed his brow, glancing up into your serene expression. “Huh?”

Your laughter was pure and unaffected. “I want only you, Shuji. How could I say ‘no’ to more babies if it means we have more proof of our love? We always wanted to build a big family, and I want to do that with you.”

Unexpectedly, he felt a lump grow in his throat. “Doll, you don’t have to do this for me. It’s your body—”

You shushed his complaints, giving him a look. “I want this,” you emphasised. “I want this with you—forever. So, you better make sure we have enough money to send the kids to college, Shuji… because we’ll be paying tuition fees for a long time.”

His answering giggle made more sticky sweet love bloom in your soul. “You got it, doll. I’ll work my ass off for you. Break more rules for ya. Up the drug prices to squeeze everyone dry till our babies are big enough. I love you.”

And you knew Shuji would keep his word—he was a man of integrity as much as he was rotten on the inside. A man of trust and fulfilment only for you.

Just then, the baby monitor he kept in his desk crackled, and Shunki cried out for his nightly feed.

Both you and Shuji lurched into action, slipping on your clothes in record speed. Your baby boy’s cries even catalysed Shuji into sprinting down the hallways, and he was there first thanks to his longer legs, cradling his son close to his chest while you caught up.

“Give him here,” you hummed, taking the wailing bundle from Shuji and slipping down your nightgown to press one plump nipple past his tiny lips.

Shuji watched you feed his son with pure love in his eyes, leaning back against the old, chipped yellow crib with arms loosely perched on his side. Absorbing this scene and imprinting it onto his brain as the idea of his perfect version of heaven.

If fate would allow it, he wanted a moment like this with you for forever.

Nevermind his dangerous occupation or the nature of his lifestyle. You, Shunki, Shusei and Shiori were the only specks of light in his otherwise fucked up world. Hanma would fight tooth and nail to keep every one of you safe, and he would put every dream of his own on hold just to see his little family happy.

As soon as that thought arose, the door to the nursery swung open, and Shiori crept in, curious by her two parents who were still awake. Hanma lifted her into his arms, cooing softly at his sleepy, baby girl. Shusei, too, ignored your rule for sleeping early on school nights to peek into Shunki’s room. His father called him over, and Shuji easily lifted his other baby boy into the seam of his side, cradling them both while you fed your youngest.

All three of them were piled onto the soft couch you often sat on as you pumped more milk for Shunki, and Shuji was drowsily recounting a story for his other two children.

“... the elephant then said to the fairy: I want to be a cat today, and the fairy—”

You sat down next to him, Shunki still in your arms, and admired how both your children looked at their father with honest admiration and adoration in their twin golden eyes.

Shusei, who was following the story with rapt attention, smirked at his sister.

“I told you the elephant became a cat but you didn’t believe me.”

In answer, Shiori stuck out her tongue. “No!”

They were both about to bicker when Shuji stopped them with one large palm on each of their tinier heads. “Kids, let’s not start to fight, yeah? You’ll wake your baby brother up.”

All three golden eyes latched onto the sleeping infant in your arms, and you smiled at them. “Your tou-chan’s right. Shunki is really grumpy at night when he doesn’t sleep well.” Levelling them a look, you had to play the stern parent when you realised Shuji wasn’t going to say a word about how they both were up past their bedtime.

“Speaking of, aren’t you two supposed to be asleep?”

Cheekily, Shusei shook his head. “Can’t sleep, mama. Wanna see Shunki again.”

Like the adoring big brother he was, your oldest son clambered towards you, his head on your shoulder as he stared intently at his baby brother. Shiori, too, was curious and Shuji let her go, carefully helping her down the sofa so she could rest her head on your knee. Carefully, you untucked one arm to pat her messy bedhead, fondly smiling down at your daughter.

Shunki gurgled and burped in his sleep, eliciting giggles from all four of you.

“He’s like a doll,” Shusei murmured.

“A doll,” Shiori echoed, always following her brother’s lead.

“Yeah,” Shuji leaned forward, taking a spare moment out of his busy day to have this time with his family. “The cutest doll. Makes you want to have another sibling, huh?”

Shusei groused, “Mama just gave birth.”

Shiori giggled. “More, more.”

Hanma smiled at his daughter’s excitement, knowing his middle child was the most excited for a baby sister so she wouldn’t be the only girl in the line-up.

“We’ll get you both another sister.”

Again, you were scandalised by Shuji’s blatant promise to the kids, like he did a year ago before Shunki’s conception. He was filling the children with hope, cornering your decision so you couldn’t change your mind, not when they were already this invested.

What a scheming, cunning asshole.

“Maybe we can all ask papa to take us to Disney World when Shunki is a little older—would you want that? And your new sister can join, too. We’ll make papa carry all the bags.”

Your quick plan was met with pure excitement from both of your children, and Shunki nearly roused awake if you hadn’t clamped one hand around his ear to block out their hushed squeals.

“Disney World!”

“Didney World!”

Shuji winced, and you knew you were triumphant when he conceded letting his children clamber back into his lap, pawing at his clothes and face as they excitedly enthused about a trip which hadn't even happened yet.

As your husband shot you a look of exasperation, all you did was grin cheekily back at him, your baby still miraculously asleep in your arms.

All was perfect in the Hanmas’ house and your life.

intellectual property of ©️lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or play around with my sentence structures, plots and characterization.

#hanma shuuji x reader #hanma x reader #hanma smut #hanma shuuji smut #hanma shuuji x you #tokrev #tokyo rev smut #tokrev smut #tokrev x reader #she's late to the party but at least she's here #🦢 writes

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crusty-chronicles · 10 months ago

Text

Revelations

Synopsis: It's no secret Kurama's soft on you. But when his demon form finally sees the light after hundreds of years, the fact only further cements itself.

It's surreal to think just a few weeks ago you were an ordinary high school student. A few weeks ago you had been completely oblivious to your best friend’s secret life. A few weeks ago, he'd been walking you home like he'd always done.

Talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Visiting his mother in the hospital before you took off to your job at some ramen place to earn a few extra bucks. A simple life it was.

Uneventful but peaceful.

Now here you were in some stuffy hotel, cheering on said best friend as he fought in a tournament. A demon tournament, if you may add. Where death was always a possibility and he and his friends were constantly fighting for their lives. One of which was the boyfriend of your boss’s daughter. And thank goodness she was or else you probably never would have known what was going on with Shuichi.

You never would have had a clue as to why he was suddenly absent from your life. Where he suddenly vanished to when the day before, he'd talked about having a ‘study date.’ How, now that his mother was better, it'd be nice to have a proper dinner between the three of you. Talks of the future, like you'd wake up and he'd be right there.

Turns out it was all a lie.

That first day you'd checked everywhere for him. It wasn't until you went to work that you met up with Keiko. Who was also suspicious of her boyfriend’s absence. The two men in question had seemingly vanished over night. And in your search for answers, you'd come across the sister of another guy who went missing.

Three in one day was no coincidence.

The common denominator? A blue haired woman who was apparently a grim reaper. A few threats from Shizuru had her spilling everything. How Shuichi, sweet dorky Shuichi, was a demon. And a prolific one at that. How all three of the boys, plus another demon, were forced to fight in this tournament. Or else they'd die along with everyone they cared about.

It made sense why they'd all left in the middle of night without a word. Why he left you without saying anything. You understood the circumstances, and you didn't hold it against him. You couldn't hold that against him. But… But you two told each other everything. Or at least you thought you did.

Which leads you to where you are now. Sitting anxiously across from Kurama the night before the semi finals. He'd already had one close call with death. You didn't think you could take it if he had another.

Kurama didn't like you being here as it was. Going as far as to scold you after his first match for following him. Seeing you cry after his fight with Touya didn't help your case either. You figured his concern was purely out of obligation. Not wanting to be responsible if you somehow got hurt.

Oblivious to the warm gazes directed at you when you weren't looking. The way he searched for you in the stands before every match. How he always offered you his hand when you'd go out. You were probably the only person he let get close enough to tend to his wounds.

It wasn't like he ever hid his soft spot for you. If anyone took the time to analyze his actions, it was easy to tell he cared quite a lot about you. More than a friend should.

“You're awfully quiet.” He spoke, snapping you from your thoughts.

“I'm just…” You didn't know how exactly to explain what you were feeling. To put your overwhelmed senses into words.

Truth was you were terrified. Terrified for Shuichi and terrified for his friends. You were terrified of waking up tomorrow and him not coming back to you.

“Worried.” you settled on.

He gave a thoughtful hum before scooting closer to you. You could feel the warmth radiating off of his skin. The sweet smell of roses accompanying it. Your relationship with the redhead had always been touchy. Never shying away from affection towards one another. So you hardly minded when he moved to cup your cheek. Guiding your gaze to meet his.

“We'll win. Just one more match until we're in the finals.”

So sure, he sounded so sure that you couldn't help but believe him. Emerald eyes filled with determination. You used to joke that he was hypnotizing you with them. So pretty that you couldn't focus on anything else except him. The theory seemed more plausible now that you knew he wasn't exactly human.

“And then we can go home,” he promised.

But you still had your doubts.

“Yeah? Yusuke and the ‘masked fighter’ still aren't back. And the enemies just keep getting stronger.”

The hurdles just keep getting bigger, and you didn't think the four of them could keep up anymore. Too much had been thrown at them.

“Can you really win like this?”

You could see the conflict brewing behind his eyes. Try as he might, Kurama could never hide his emotions from you. You knew the answer before he said it.

“We have to.” Careful, always so careful with his choice of words. Not promising you a for sure victory, but reaffirming what you already knew. You knew what he wanted to say…But you also knew he couldn't admit it. Not to you and not to himself.

The real answer- He doesn’t know.

“Tomorrow's a big day, let's get some rest.”

A sign the conversation had drawn to a close. You weren't in the mood to push anyways. So you followed him to his room. The both of you slipping into the same bed, with Shuichi's arms wrapping tightly around you. Most likely the last time he'd ever get to hold you.

—-----------------------------

Tomorrow came far too soon. There was still no sign of Yusuke and the masked fighter, meaning the team would be at a complete disadvantage. If you had any semblance of martial arts training, you would have volunteered to take one of their places. Though truthfully you knew you wouldn't have been able to put up much of a fight.

You slipped into your own room to get ready, mentally preparing yourself for the day. Surprisingly, there was no one in the lobby waiting. You couldn't help but wonder where the girls were. Usually all of you went to the arena together. For safety purposes, of course. Perhaps they'd already made their way there? They didn't seem like the type to get up early, but maybe just this once they'd made the effort.

Apparently you were dead wrong.

You'd searched everywhere in the stands, testing your luck and even asking a few demons if they'd seen them. No luck. You were completely on your own. It didn't help that this new stadium was 10 times bigger than the old one. No one would even notice if something happened to you here.

You really only had two two options before the match started. You could stay here, surrounded by bloodthirsty demons who were starting to eye you with drool. Or you could go down to where Shuichi and his friends were, right in front of all the action and potentially get hurt.

It was a no brainer what you’d choose. Besides, he'd never let you get hurt on his watch. And you trusted the other two with your safety when it would be his turn to fight. You didn't think they would be cruel enough to leave you wide open for injury. Or at least, Kuwabara would do his best. He'd proven he had the most humanity during this tournament.

Yeah, you were much safer near the actual fights than you were surrounded by demons. Begrudgingly, you made your way down. Dodging a few swipes directed at you before jumping over the railing. Your actions quickly catching the attention of Koto, the cat announcer.

“And who is that making their way over to Team Urameshi! Could this be their alternate fighter? Or perhaps one of their lovers~”

You cursed her for drawing attention directly towards you. Already feeling all eyes on you as you approached.

“What are you doing here?” Kurama questioned. The other two looked expectantly at you for your answer.

“I have no idea where the girls are. And I don't think it's a good idea for me to be up in that stadium by myself.”

He gave a hum, about to usher you closer to him when someone beat him to the punch.

“Well I'll protect ya, so don't worry!” Kuwabara assured. Pulling you close by your shoulders in a way that had you laughing. Unawares of the subtle way Kurama's eyes had narrowed.

“Thank you. That's very sweet.”

“Don't mention it. Nothing gets past me, so I'll let you know when to duck and cover.”

“If that's the case, they're better off in the stadium,” Hiei commented.

“What did you say, shrimp!” Kuwabara released you to get in his face. The two of them continuing to bicker while you laughed.

Your gaze caught Shuichi's and you offered an amused grin.

“Your friends seem fun. Can't believe you didn't introduce me to them sooner.”

“They’re not exactly the type you bring up in passing. And I doubt you would've believed I was associated with them,” he answered, though there was some mirth in his eyes that let you know he was teasing.

“Excuse me, I'd like to get back to the semi-finals now,” Juri, the fish announcer this time, interrupted.

It once again reminded you just where you were. What could happen if any of Kurama and his friends slipped up. You shouldn't be joking around causing a distraction. Not when lives were at stake. His life. Your anxieties only worsened when the first round begun.

Sure Hiei had managed to beat his opponent in under five minutes. But the brief second he'd disappeared made your heart stop. Unconsciously moving yourself closer to Kurama.

The second match was much worse. The burly man in front of Hiei using his sword to cut his own arm. Explaining how once his body had been exposed to a specific pain, it wouldn't affect him the next time he was hurt. It was only a matter of time before the smaller demon ran out of options. With his sword broken and his spirit energy depleted, he took a gamble.

The conclusion of the fight had felt so sudden. So brutal. Kuro Momotaro had seemingly won, his teeth piercing into Hiei's shoulder. The aftermath was a fountain of blood spraying out.

You’d flinched away at the sight, trying your best to shut out the triumphant cheers of the stadium. Only for them to go quiet as Hiei shoved the body off of him. The shape shifting demon now in pieces on the floor. Hiei was okay. And as he continued to antagonize Kuwabara, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

It was easier to stomach the fights when you were with the girls. People who weren't desensitized to the carnage around them. Nobody had batted an eye down here. They all seemed used to it. Only further reminding you just how feeble and weak you were in their presence.

Hell, Hiei was practically begging for a round three despite his condition. The dice were brought out again, and you were praying to whatever God was up there it wouldn't land on Shuichi's name. You knew it wasn't fair. He needed to fight at some point. Judging by the determined expression on his face, he wanted to. But you didn't have a good feeling about this. You didn't want him to leave your side towards his potential death.

Please don't let it be him.

“Now fighting for Team Urameshi, Kurama. and for team Uraotogi, Uraurashima.”

Fuck.

You stood shakily next to Hiei and Kuwabara as Kurama stepped into the area. His opponent a young boy with a fishing pole. At least he looked easy to beat. It gave you momentary relief before both of them drew their weapons. Uraurashima’s fishing line clashing with Kurama's Rose Whip. Equally bouncing off of each other with no indication of one overpowering the other.

“They're evenly matched? Or is he not fighting for real?” You asked.

Hiei gave a bark of laughter at your observation.

“So you do know him well. Kurama's just fooling around. It's an obnoxious habit. He never creates his own strategy until he fully understands his opponent's.”

You were gonna strangle Shuichi when he was done fighting.

“Nice to know he over analyzes everything.”

You watched as they continued to have a stalemate. Though something had changed in Shuichi's expression. It was somber. Like he was contemplating something. Now was not the time for him to get distracted.

He let up on his assault along with his opponent. And right when he moved to haphazardly strike, Uraurashima dodged. Wrapping Kurama in his fishing line and pulling as hard as he could. Slicing into his skin.

You couldn't stop yourself from screaming out his name. Kuwabara instinctively pulling you behind him.

“Don't look, okay?”

Don't look? How could you not look. That was your best friend up there. No matter how badly you wanted to turn away, you couldn't. Looking on in horror as Uraurashima approached him. Surely Kurama had some other trick up his sleeve to protect himself?

But his eyes told you a different story. Frustration and anger. You don't think you've ever seen him mad before. He staggered on his feet, only for the onslaught to continue. It looked hopeless as he fled.

Your eyes widening with tears once he was cornered. There was nowhere to run. A forcefield in effect prevented him from doing so. His opponent presenting a box of some kind and opening it. Purple smoke poured out as he explained how it worked.

It would de-age Kurama. Turn him into a child where he couldn't defend himself. A cowards move. Only when the entire arena had been filled with smoke did your tears fall.

You were powerless to do anything. You couldn't help him even if you wanted to. Designated to nothing but a bystander in his fate. Your worst fear coming true.

It was silent for a moment. Complete silence as the Idun box worked its magic. Then all at once lightning struck. No, not lighting… it was a spike of spirit energy.

Your body shook as it tried to process the power around it. The force was almost strangling.

“Do you feel that, too?” Kuwabara asked before looking back at you. He visibly panicked seeing you struggle to breathe.

“Hiei! We need some help over here!”

The three eyed demon spared you a glance, giving an irritated huff as he pulled you towards him.

“Stand close to me. I should've known someone as weak as you wouldn't be able to withstand this much. Your body isn't used to this much spiritual pressure.”

He created a small barrier of his own energy around you. You took a few greedy gasps of air. Relieved to be able to breathe again. You offered a weak ‘Thanks.’ Still worried about what exactly was happening.

This power…Could it really have been Shuichi's? Or was it something else entirely? Was he even still alive?

“Where's all that weird energy coming from?” Kuwabara questioned.

Hiei only seemed to beam with pride.

“It's all Kurama. Down to the last drop.” He responded.

You wanted to start crying again. Your emotions all over the place. He was okay in there after all. Maybe he'd be able to find a way to win.

“But it feels different somehow, and a heck of a lot more powerful,” Kuwabara pointed out.

“That fool he's been fighting has turned him back into his demon form. Before he was tainted by you humans.” Hiei explained.

That caught your attention. A part of you defensive at his words.

“Tainted? It's not like we made him stay.” Like you'd ruined him with your presence.

“No, not directly. That doesn't change the fact you made him weaker. Soft.”

You wanted to question him about what he meant, but the sound of something crashing through the barrier stopped you. All at once the smoke started pouring out. The forcefield itself was destroyed. In a matter of seconds the arena was clear.

In its wake was a red demon with its neck pierced by a sword. Further away was….No. That couldn't be.

“Shuichi?”

You regretted calling out to him as soon as his name left your lips. The silver haired demon’s head snapped towards you. The pair of ears on his head seemed to twitch at your voice.

He was different, so very different from the man you knew. His demeanor felt cold. You briefly remembered what he used to be: a fox. If the ears and tail didn't already give it away. Wild and unpredictable. If your friend was in there, it sure didn't look like it.

You trembled at the intensity from his gaze. He made a gesture with his hand, as if reaching out before you felt the ground give way. You could feel yourself fall back, landing on something soft. You hardly processed yourself moving up until you were about ten feet off the ground. You realized then what you were on top of. A type of giant leaf was carrying you.

What the hell was going on? What was gonna happen to you?

You felt the leaf shift forward, and that was when you decided to call for help. For the one person who would probably know what to do.

"Hiei, help me!” You tried to reach down, but he backed away.

You let out a scream this time as the leaf rushed forward. Kuwabara tried to reach for you, but he was stopped by the three eyed demon.

“What gives!?!? Why aren't you helping them!?!”

“Fool. Don't interfere or you'll wind up dead.”

You couldn't hear them as you were pulled towards the other side of the area. Vaguely aware of Koto’s comments.

“Now this just took an interesting turn! The mystery fighter has taken interest in the human on the field! Is he perhaps looking for his next meal?”

You were at the edge of the arena shaking. It only worsened as who you assumed to be Yoko made his way towards you. Taking slow and meticulous steps. Like a predator stalking it's cornered prey.

Why you?

Why did it have to be you?

Why did you have to go and open your big fat mouth?

Maybe he wasn't satisfied with his previous fight. Wanting to take out whatever pent up aggression he had on you. A human who just so happened to be on the field. His expression hadn't changed once since he set his sights on you. Maybe he really was planning on eating you. It's not like it was against the rules.

He was halfway to you now. You could barely hear over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

“We'd really like to move on to the next match now, if you don't mind,” Juri said, now back to normal.

“Quiet.”

One word was all it took to have her trembling.

“Or not! Take your time.”

His voice sounded gruff. Harsher than any tone you'd heard him use. You knew Shuichi, or rather Kurama. The boy who used to give you flowers everyday after school until he got teased for it. The boy who loved his mother more than anything. The boy who you'd never known to like senseless violence. You knew he would never hurt you. Never dream of hurting you. But this…This was not him.

A quarter of the way there.

And then he was right in front of you.

This was Yoko. An infamous demon who’d committed heinous crimes. Far too many to count. Who could kill you with no more than a swipe of his hand. And he probably would. Sharp claws on the end of each fingertip. More than enough to finish you off.

You trembled on top of the giant leaf as his gaze pierced through you. His eyes didn't hold the same warmth as Shuichi's. The familiar emerald green replaced by a faded gold. They were cold. The color so light it held nothing but ice. You continued to shake in front of him. Hoping to catch a glimpse of your best friend.

“Do you fear me, sweetling?” He spoke at last.

Your words were stuck in your throat. Unable to answer him. Fearing what would happen if you didn't.

His hand started to extend out towards you. You'd flinched and closed your eyes at the sudden movement. Expecting the worst. This was it. He was gonna slash your throat. You braced yourself for the inevitable pain…but it never came.

Instead, he'd cupped your cheek. His thumb swiping away a stray tear. An action reminiscent of Shuichi. Your Shuichi.

“You shouldn't. Open your eyes and look at me.”

You could feel your trembling ease up. Was this a game? If it was, should you play along? You didn't know what to think at the moment. If you should relax in his presence or run. But there was something about the way he was cradling your face. It was gentle. So against your better judgment, you opened your eyes. Taking a deep breath as he guided your face up.

You looked into his golden irises in search of your best friend. They weren't as cold this time. Flecks of the emerald you were used to. The softness he looked at you with had returned. Or maybe it had never really left. Your shaking had stopped completely.

“Shuichi?” you called out once more. And this time he'd smiled at you. Somehow managing to get closer into your space. But you couldn't say you minded much. Your relationship had always been touchy.

“We are one in the same. Though it's a shame he hasn't staked his claim on you yet. I will not forgo the opportunity should we meet again.”

Your face scrunched in confusion at his words. Temporary moving out of his grasp.

“What do mean stake his claim?”

His expression turned amused at your question.

“Isn't it obvious? You're ours. Our precious little mate. Shuichi is hesitant to act on his feelings. But I am not.”

You felt the leaf shift down. Letting Yoko once again cup your face. This time guiding you to bump your forehead against his.

“I am yours devotedly until the end of time.”

You could feel your face burning with embarrassment. This whole time he'd liked you. Even in his purest form he was in love with you. Why had you been so scared of losing him?

Because you'd loved him too.

“Do my ears deceive me!?!? He's actually flirting with the human!?!? Well there goes my weekend.”

But this wasn't the place for that. He couldn't be distracted by you here. There was too much at stake. Maybe when this whole tournament was over, you could properly explore these feelings.

He was leaning closer to you.

Would you turn him away if he kissed you now?

You decided the tournament committee could shove it as his lips brushed over yours.

But before they could press down fully, a heavy fog engulfed him. He'd backed away from you. The silhouette of a fox appearing for a brief second. Then it vanished, into a ray of light with one last thing to say.

“Until we meet again, sweetling.”

The light had been so blinding, you had no choice but to look away. When the dust had settled, in front of you was a familiar redhead. His tail and ears completely gone. He'd retained his previous injuries. But other than that, he was fine. He stood in front of you with an unreadable expression.

“Are you kidding me!?!? After all that we didn't even get a proper kiss!!!! Where's the entertainment in that!?!”

All at once his face went red. He was almost never flustered. Then again, his feelings were just aired out to the entire stadium. Your relationship was aired out. You knew he was a private person, so this must've felt humiliating. The cooing from the audience sure as hell didn't help.

He scooped you off of the giant leaf without a word. Surprising you with how easily he picked you up. Clutching you close to him as he made his way off the arena. His face was burning, matching your expression.

“My apologies.” he said quietly.

You could do nothing but put your head between his neck and shoulder. Wanting to hide yourself from everyone's prying eyes.

“It's okay. I didn't mind. I mean, at first you scared me. But once I saw it was really you..” you trailed off.

There was a brief silence before Shuichi spoke again.

“You reciprocated Yoko’s advancements.”

“I reciprocated your advancements.” Because they were one in the same. Although it was a little amusing to see him get jealous of himself.

“I would've let you kiss me too.” you added.

He'd finally reached the end of the area and jumped down with you still in his arms.

“I plan making good on that promise once we finish up here.”

-------------------------

Me writing this: There's no need for exposition, you can just get to the main plot!"

Also me: THE ROMANCE NEEDS TO BE BELIEVABLE 😫😫😫

Also- WHY DID I MAKE THIS SO LONG 😭

#yu yu hakusho x reader #yyh x reader #kurama x reader #yu yu hakusho #kurama yu yu hakusho #yoko kurama #shuichi minamino #x reader #x y/n #kurama fluff

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opiopal · 18 days ago

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for some reason I like, REALLY love imagining Mc getting into scuffles with students at RAD,

I think it’s just funny to me to imagine my Mc just suddenly slapping some RAD student being nasty and rude just out of the blue,

but I guess just in general the idea seems a little silly to me, this human that came down and charmed all seven of the brothers, the future demon king, the future kings time bending butler, Solomon the sorcerer, three angels, a devildom noble and best friend of the future demon king, and a reaper, the human that is known for being kind and understanding and loving… just, deciding to punch you in the face for saying you don’t know why mammon is so dumb- you don’t even get to finish your full insult before they just seemingly appear out of thin air and deck you in the face?

I think this also stays the same amount of funny in nightbringer, imagine this random demon who came out of nowhere and is now super duper protective of these seven fallen angels, along with that they have and will bite someone’s ear off like a wild coyote. And it’s just- why??? Who even are you???? Where did you come from??? Why do you care about these guys so much they don’t even act like they like you equally as much??????

but I guess just in general it’s funny to me to imagine that the brothers gain a feral little protector after all the pacts are made, mc WILL hurt people in defense of their found family trope. Which is just ridiculous cause THEY are supposed to protect THEM.

(Luci is constantly under stress once again, the stress will never leave; even once his grey hairs make him look like mams father</3)

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me scenarios #obey me shitpost

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valentine-cafe · 2 months ago

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oh god the domestic 209 herrera husbands 😞 its too cute mhfhdgsg

- afab reader -

imagine them having massive baby fever after their first baby‼️ first they put the small baby into its crib (that they had to move outside the room temporarily so they and their sweet wife could have some private time 😇) and then filling her up lots to make sure shes pregnant again !!

im sure that the baby would love a little sibling or two 🤭🫣

˖⁺. ﹙ yandere naga mad doctor x gn reader x yandere hybrid mad scientist. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . just one more, please !! 🍒 : mad doctor ˖ yandere ˖ snake monster ˖ grim reaper character & spider-moth-mantis hybrid ˖ mad scientist ˖ yandere character ˖ cw: pregnancy kink, so much cum, impregnation, plugging﹙ verse 209 jingyi & rishen. ﹚

when your husbands begin thinking more about the future of your child, they grow as melancholic as they grow happy. so they decide to give you a few more

there was something about your baby getting older that made the husbands feels melancholic. as much as they were proud - as much as they were happy. the idea that the experience of a baby would be lost as your kid entered the toddler years.

and when the child started going to preschool? oh, they were in tears.

the perfect solution? get another baby.

if you thought they were eager the first time they tried for a baby. oh you were sorely not ready for what would hit you this time around.

hips cramming into yours desperately from both sides. filling up your holes as much as they possibly could. alternating. stuffing you full. all in the hours that your little one had headed off to school and would be staying by your relative for the day.

there is a sort of animalistic need in the way that they fuck you into the sheets. the way that jìngyí buries his fangs into the side of your neck. digs his claws into your hips and fucks into you rapidly. the typically composed doctor now an absolute mess as he whines into your ear about stuffing you full and giving you another bundle.

the way that rishen would take over by having you ride him. laying down as he grips at your thighs with his hands, his tentacles, his spider legs at one point - whatever he possibly could. at one point it is simply you bouncing on his lap wildly as he grew delirious with the thought of breeding you once again. the sight of your tight cunt full of their side.

“such a pretty mommy,” rishen whines into you once he has the strength to shove you down onto your tummy and fuck you from behind with all of his strength.

“going to be so beautiful. . . all swollen for us again,” jìngyí would find himself under you again so enough. a hand to your hair and pressing you into sweet, needy kisses as he gets rishen to slip into your ass instead. so that he can have his turn with your overflowing cunt.

“such a pretty mommy indeed.”

at some point all three of you would fall asleep. wake up again to jìngyí humping your thighs softly and grinding his cock up into your slick walls. it would stir rishen up soon after and the two would have a messy, sloppy few rounds with you - before falling asleep all over again.

rishen made sure to plug you up with one of his tentacles. just so that you definitely get pregnant after all.

you’d fall asleep between the two of them. all cuddled up and comfy. let’s just say that you had a surprise for your little bundle when they eventually came back from their mini visit.

oh the herrera’s are so obsessed with by the thought of having a big happy family with you.

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sanjoongie · 1 year ago

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𝔽𝕖𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝔽𝕚𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝔽𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝟚𝟜

🥀These prompts are hosted by @thelargefrye and myself, masterlist can be seen here

🥀The following is a month full of Ateez smut. Minors, please do not interact. Various tropes and aus will be utilized as I see fit. This is both a challenge and treat for me as a writing, so I hope you can enjoy it with me!

🥀divider made by @cafekitsune on masterlist and all subsequent posts

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

🥀Day One: Deepthroating- Wooyoung

🥀Summary: when yunho leaves wooyoung to work on assembling the ship himself, you're left to relieve the stress wooyoung has built up

🥀Day Two: Cheating / Creampie- Jongho

🥀Summary: in which you're assigned the alias as Jongho's wife and he takes that pretty fucking seriously

🥀Day Three: Mirror Sex- Hongjoong

🥀Summary: When you chant Bloody Mary in the mirror to get a glimpse of your future husband, you see the Grim Reaper instead, but those aren't mutually exclusive

🥀Day Four: Public Sex- San

🥀Summary: When San comes to you, the local wise woman (read rumored witch), to get a bullet wound dressed, he's also looking to convince you to let him under your skirts, and your heart

🥀Day Five: Dacryphilia- Yunho

🥀Summary: you guide your golden retriever hybrid boyfriend through his first time and you discover you have an affinity for his pretty face when he cries

🥀Day Six: Auralism / Sensory Deprivation - Mingi

🥀Summary: one the full moon, you play a game of Find and Fuck, where you hunt down Mingi with only the sound of his noises as he masturbates

🥀Day Seven: Voyeurism- Seonghwa

🥀Summary: Seonghwa, in pursuit of knowing your body better for breeding techniques, asks if you could show him how you pleasure yourself. The alien soon learns he likes watching you, like all the aliens do

🥀Day Eight: Experimental / Nipple Play- Yeosang

🥀Summary: after an unfortunate accident with your shears, you visit the doctor, only to be surprised by his magic. fate throws you into a blind date with the doctor and then your curiosity gets the better of you when the blind date develops.

🥀Day Nine: Praise / Long Distance Sex- Yunho

🥀Summary: when Yunho calls you one day, drunk and missing you, you let him guide you through some stress releasing phone sex

🥀Day Ten: Hate Fucking - Yeosang

🥀Summary: when you claim that Yeosang was a man of no emotions and Yeosang demanded you prove yourself right, a passionate and hot sex session follows

🥀Day Eleven: Somnophilia- Mingi

🥀Summary: you make an agreement with your incubus friend that he can feed on you, if only while you’re sleeping

🥀Day Twelve: Mommy Kink - Wooyoung

🥀Summary: wooyoung is just a loser guy in the 2000’s and you’re the hot 2000’s girl that’s considering letting him go down on you… at a cost, of course

🥀Day Thirteen: Uniform - Seonghwa

🥀Summary: When your first mate successfully enacts a mutiny, you’re left with one simple task… to be his cum bucket

🥀Day Fourteen: Threesome / Ritual - San/ Hongjoong

🥀Summary: when San and Hongjoong decide to join your valentine’s day ritual, you get the surprise of a lifetime: a threesome!

🥀Day Fifteen: Femdom / Degradation - Jongho

🥀Summary: as the advisor to a strong lord, and the true power behind the powerful man, you often put Jongho in his place. He adores it, including summoning a certain knight to help, among other degrading acts

🥀Day Sixteen: Cockwarming - Mingi

🥀Summary: when you crave some time with one of your busy boyfriends, the compromise turns out to be everything you need with an unexpected surprise

🥀Day Seventeen: Body Worship - San

🥀Summary: San shows that you deserve to be spoiled like the queen you are, and why exactly he was the one chosen to be your first consort

🥀Day Eighteen: Size Kink - Jongho

🥀Summary: When a particular mission causes you to almost tip over the edge from hero to villain, Jongho is the soothing balm to take your stress away

🥀Day Nineteen: Masturbation / Edging - Yunho

🥀Summary: Yunho decides the best way to stop you from beating him in a race to create the best app in a technology contest is to distract you... with his body

🥀Day Twenty: Soft Dom-Sub / Roleplay - Wooyoung

🥀Summary: when you decide the healthy outlet to a rumored lifestyle with your younger lover is in fact to play out a scenario of a woman cheating on her husband with the pool boy

🥀Day Twenty-One: Aphrodisiacs / Overstim - Hongjoong

🥀Summary: Hongjoong accidentally scratches you with his poisonous tail, and the results because of your mating and Seonghwa’s genetically-spiced saliva, are pleasurable for the both of you

🥀Day Twenty-Two: Double Penetration - Seonghwa/Yeosang

🥀Summary: Yeosang is in love with his best friend AND his best friend’s girlfriend. What he doesn’t know is you have a grand Master plan to bring you all together

🥀Day Twenty-Three: Breeding Kink - Wooyoung

🥀Summary: when you took Wooyoung in as a stray hybrid, you didn’t think about triggering his rut

🥀Day Twenty-Four: Pegging / Feminization - Mingi

🥀Summary: Mingi got all dressed up for you to fuck him with your strap-on

🥀Day Twenty-Five: Free Use / Spit Play - San/Seonghwa

🥀Summary: a new club is opened in the Choi’s territory, your newly required husbands, in your honor and you arrive with Seonghwa and San in order to christen it properly

🥀Day Twenty-Six: Tentacle sex - Yunho

🥀Summary: an incubus thinks you’re a tasty witch snack as a widow, and it’s about to turn your day around

🥀Day Twenty-Seven: Cuckolding - Yeosang/Jongho

🥀Summary: not every couple purchases an android just for the purpose of cuckolding your husband, but it was well worth it’s weight in crypto credits

🥀Day Twenty-Eight: Predator-Prey / Strength Kink - Hongjoong

🥀Summary: when you and your gaming friend learn about a glitch in one of your favorite games, you exploit it on an erotic level

🥀Day Twenty-Nine: Gangbang - ot8

🥀Summary: as the office pet, your duties after hours are completely different

#joongfryefff24 #topaz's work #ღatz #ateez smut #kim hongjoong smut #park seonghwa smut #jeong yunho smut #kang yeosang smut #choi san smut #song mingi smut #jung wooyoung smut #choi jongho smut

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nonamenonamenon · 7 months ago

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Across all three realms, Solomon is a sorcerer known to all as fearsome and powerful.

He has a notable amount of demons under pacts with him, and his magical prowess is nothing to laugh at, either.

Some even tell the tale of the sorcerer being able to wage war on the entirety of the Devildom, with only one man, himself, backing his corner.

To his friends and acquaintances, he's an eccentric human with a love for cooking. His love for the act doesn’t mean he’s good at it, though.

Rather than fearing his skills and abilities when it comes to magic, his cooking is the most fearful thing about him.

He’ll serve you food that looks like it’s been made out of poison and objects entirely unfit for making dishes with a handsome, close-eyed smile.

He’s entirely oblivious to the deadly effects that his meals dish out to those who eat it, with his cooking being bad enough to make even the most fearful demons in the Devildom keel over and faint simply by having a taste.

However, known to you, and only you, is a softer side of Solomon not often seen by others. Among every human, demon, angel, reaper, and any other race in this world, you feel as though you’re blessed by the Celestial Realm itself to be the only person to see all of his sides so wholly and so intimately.

As his adorable apprentice (as the sorcerer often calls you,) you’re all too aware of his skill when it comes to magic. In your eyes, he’s stellar, and an amazing teacher. While being his pupil isn’t easy, he makes sure to know that you’re doing well through praise, offering a kiss for every spell you get right, and other rewards that… aren’t exactly age appropriate enough to mention.

Though, you think he enjoys these acts a lot more than you do.

When it comes to domestic things, Solomon is all too elated by the act of cooking for the one he holds most dear. He puts all of his heart and soul into the meals he creates for you, though that doesn’t mean they’re any better. Living with Solomon… is no easy task. Especially when it comes to eating his cooking.

Unfortunately for you, your love for Solomon and the guilt of having to stare at his sad face when you reject his meals overpower your distaste for his cooking, so you grin & bear it, even if you’ll end up with nasty side effects after.

The soft, quiet, and romantic moments with Solomon are what you treasure most.

The ones where you sit, studying together in a comfortable silence, where you simply exist in each other’s presence, feeling the other’s warmth.

The moments where you’re quietly observing his peaceful sleeping face, and the moments where he’s giving you much needed comfort and affection, consoling you without needing to say any words.

It’s heartwarming, and it makes your stomach churn & flutter in a good way.

He once told you that he never had anyone in his life that cared about him so deeply, or anyone to care for in the same way.

Throughout your entire relationship, and for your foreseeable future with him, you make sure to never let him feel that way ever again.

It’s a gross underestimate to say that you two only love each other.

What you have with Solomon goes deeper than words can describe, and what you two feel for each other is more than you can express.

It’s why the quiet moments with him are your most treasured.

In each comfortable silence that the two of you share together, no matter when it is or where you are, the both of you know well that there’s a million words (and more) of love and affection being said.

#obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #solomon x reader #om solomon x reader #solomon om #baby's first fluff #hi solomon nation #i got to writing because i'm at a fish spa right now and the fish are tickling me really bad so i had to challenge myself #anyways.#This is a random assortment of NOTHING #i don't know what i was writing i just bulldozed through it #if i made a mistake about his character No i did not you just don't see the vision #Kidding #fluff

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ask-the-three-reapers-au · 1 year ago

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Drunk Nergal tries to do a backflip

He's fine.

#the three reapers au #the grim adventures of billy and mandy #ask the three reapers #ask blog #the grim future of billy and mandy #the grim adventures of billy and mandy nergal #billy and mandy nergal #nergal billy and mandy #aku samurai jack #black hat villainous

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emee-ems · 1 month ago

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Okay so the inclusion of Tarot cards/reading really intrigued me this chapter. I'm familiar with tarot reading so I tried to figure it out although they only said three cards. I didn't see anyone else try to pick this apart (there could be! my tumblr has been having trouble loading). So I wanted to try and pick it apart in the simplest terms.

I'm not the best with interpretations and I'm still learning myself.

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-The 4 of Cups (upright) means disconnection, boredom and waiting. This card was supposed to represent Anya's present so I guess it makes sense: Anya is trying to overcome the disconnection with Damien to help in the mission. It could also point to her studies, which she finds boring. As for the waiting aspect, the entire mission is a waiting game. I've also read that the card can be about the person in question not seeing or focusing on opportunities in front of them. The Cups in the Minor Arcana usually deals with emotions, relationships, love and intuition.

-The Death card [people always take this one literally]. The Death card can mean the end of something but that also means the beginning of something else. It can also mean transformations. This change can lead to growth. I think Melinda said this represented factors around Anya. Perhaps it pertains to her growth in general (rather than the joke of Yor as the grim reaper).

-The Star (reversed). This is the only one of the three shown to be reversed. If it was upright, it'd mean hope and inspiration but reversed means the opposite: hopeless, losing trust [in the universe] and not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I think this was supposed to represent Anya's future (pretty vague and I'm not sure if Melinda was guessing about that)

Now the rest of the cards in the reading were shown too in the first shot. Again, since I don't know what spread this is so I can't tell what each card/spot represents in the reading. I can only tell what each card can mean on its own. The other ones I can see are: the Ace of Cups [reversed], 10 of Pentacles, and 3 of Swords (the last one is a Wands reversed but her hand blocks most of it out. I WANT to say 3 of Wands but I'm not sure).

Ace of Cups (reversed): feeling emotionally drained or blocked. Missing out on new emotional beginnings or connections. Aces can mean potential.

10 of Pentacles: long-term success and legacy, wealth and stability. Pentacles in the Minor Arcana can represent finances, home, physical body and practicality. Tens in the suits can mean manifestation.

3 of Swords: heartbreak and sorrow, a painful but necessary revelation or separation. Swords in the Minor Arcana represent intellect, thoughts, ideas and communication (I've also seen mind, ambitions, conflict and change). The number three can mean beliefs. The 3 of Swords tends to always be seen as...not great.

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I can't really imagine that Endou Tatsuya put out a bunch of random cards as a joke. At least I don't think so. I just find it interesting that he included it, even as a joke on how little Melinda understands it. It can't just be for that joke, right? Regardless it was interesting to inspect. I'd like to think that this hints that Anya's growth will either lead her towards something or what that other factors will contribute to said growth (or both). These other factors don't sound so good though (heartbreak, and sorrow as well as hopelessness). But, it could also pertain to Damien since that was part of the reading (becoming his friend).

#spy x family #spy x family chapter 108 #sxf spoilers #tarot cards

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morbidology · 2 months ago

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"Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary."—a chant many of us have recited in front of a mirror during our teenage years, often with friends daring us on. This legend originated from a coming-of-age ritual for young women. The tradition involved walking up a flight of stairs backward while holding a candle and a small mirror. In the bathroom, they would gaze into the mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of their future husband. If they saw the face of the Grim Reaper instead, it was believed to signify that they would die before marriage.

Over time, this ritual has evolved into a darker tale. Various versions of the legend suggest different consequences for calling Bloody Mary's name three times in front of a mirror—some say she will scratch your face and eyes, others claim she will haunt you, steal your soul, or even kill you.

Despite the variations, the legend of Bloody Mary remains one of the most enduring urban myths.

#bloody mary #urban legend #creepy

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heylittleriotact · 2 months ago

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𝓐𝓵𝓰𝓸𝓻 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓼:

The normal cooling of a body after death as it equilibrates with the ambient temperature.

Takes place immediately following the ending of Act 3 and features Emmrich and Amina taking a moment to themselves after all is said and done. Emmrich takes care of his beloved Reaper, and following a brief discussion about their respective plans for the future, she returns the favour.

Rating: Explicit

Under the cut or on ao3:

The roar of victory was a dull thrum that followed them through the ruined streets of Minrathous, part elation that the Elvhen threat had been bested, and partly devastation for the many lives their success had cost. Amina acknowledged every single person she passed by: hugs and handshakes were reciprocated without question, and condolences were extended to the bereaved with all of the dignified sincerity of a Watcher. It took them nearly two hours to make their way to a damaged but still structurally sound estate secured for them by the Shadow Dragons but if asked, Amina would do it all again

The ornate doors of the manor closed behind them and the cacophony outside was muffled. Amina took two steps into the manor, bent at the waist, and splattered the floor with the contents of her stomach.

Emmrich was on her in an instant, holding her long black hair aside with one hand and running the other comfortingly down her back.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong with her?” Taash demanded, taking a step forward. Their voice was distant - drowned out by the screeching whine in Amina’s ears.

She felt her legs wobble and give out, her armoured knees colliding roughly with the ground as she threw out a hand to steady herself, barely registering that it landed right in her sick. Everything was too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too… real. It felt like she was being driven out of her own body like a wayward spirit, her essence clinging desperately to whatever it could hold onto that would tether her here.

Just as distantly, Amina could hear Emmrich respond to Taash but his words were lost on her as she wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and lurched clumsily to her feet.

“Harding - I need to go to her mother–” Her voice broke: she hadn’t had time… she had intended to visit Harding’s mother in person to check in on her in the days following her daughter’s death, but Elgar’nan - and Solas - had made that impossible.

She clenched her teeth at the sensation of hot tears cutting through the accumulation of grime and gore and sweat on her face, snarling defiantly through the deluge of agony crashing through her, breaking her from the inside.

There’s still work to be done…

She was pulling away from Emmrich, her course uncharted but steadfast as she attempted to draw strength from that agony as she always had: she needed to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. It didn’t matter, as long as she was doing something… as long as she was helping. But no matter how she pulled and tugged, he wouldn’t let her go: slender as Emmrich was, he wasn’t weak by any stretch.

With some effort he managed to put himself in front of her, gold rings clinking against silverite where he gripped her shoulders before pulling her tight against him.

“Breathe, darling.” He instructed, enshrouding her diminutive frame in his own. “I need you to breathe… can you do that for me?”

She managed an anguished sob in reply but nothing more: any attempt to draw breath was met with unforgiving resistance as her airways slammed shut in seeming rebellion against life itself.

Arrangements need to be made - things need to be taken care of, and I’m the only one left to take care of them…

“I’ve got you: you’re safe with me.”

More tears rolled down her cheeks as her eyes clenched shut and she forced a thin, ragged inhalation into her lungs.

“Well done, darling.” Emmrich encouraged, ever calm, ever heartening. “Now let’s try for another one, shall we? I’ll do it with you. Let out your breath on the count of three: one… two… three…”

She felt Emmrich contract against her as he slowly exhaled with her. None of this was new to her: Nevarran breathing techniques were required learning for Watchers. Claustrophobia could present unpredictably, and if one found themselves turned around or overwhelmed in the Necropolis, being able to stay calm was vital to survival.

“Perfect. Now another breath in…” He waited while Amina drew another shaky breath then loosened his hold on her to gently cup her cheek. Within moments she could feel the familiar soothing tingle of Emmrich’s magic coursing intimately through her, seeping through her overloaded nervous system and providing some relief until another horror blundered into her mind with nauseating insistence.

“Shit.” Her eyes went wide. “Manfred… Emmrich, wh-where is Manfred?!”

“Manfred is perfectly safe,” he soothed, “He’s in the abundantly capable hands of Myrna and Vorgoth for the moment. In fact, before I left, I overheard Myrna explaining to him Karloff’s Five Principles of Ethical Reanimation.”

“Emmrich,” she rasped, clutching at his chest. “I… I need to–”

“Do absolutely nothing.” He interjected sternly, his voice absent of any playful familiarity or scholarly flair, though it softened almost reflexively as he continued. “You’ve overextended yourself, Amina. You’ve been overextended for some time, but you’ve pushed through to see this to the end - and you have - but my love, you can’t evade the reality of what you’ve been through indefinitely… you need to rest and take time to come to terms with things.” He drew his thumb over her cheek, speaking to her like she was the only person in the room.

“But–”

“It’s so incredibly kind of you to want to give your condolences to Lace’s mother in person, but it need not happen this instant. The… actions of the Inquisitor will be communicated to the south in due course.” He hung on the word ‘actions’ seemingly unsure of its accuracy but ultimately too focused on Amina to care enough to select a different one. “You need to rest,” he repeated.

She opened her mouth to argue, but likely having anticipated this from her, Emmrich spoke first.

“You’ve done so much and helped so many without asking for anything in return - please let me be the one to help you now?”

His eyes searched hers, soft and pleading, and she studied the face of the man she loved: each pleasing curve and angle that she had committed to memory etched on her heart. The crinkled lines at the corners of his eyes, and the creases around his familiar mouth spoke of years of smiles offered to comfort and soothe.

He was filthy too, and his hair was limp and dishevelled, strands of it hanging into his face… but oh Maker how she loved him…

“I love you…” he whispered for her ears alone, his lips ghosting over hers, “And I so look forward to reminding you of that fact every day for the rest of our lives… so let me begin now: let me take care of you.”

She couldn’t bring herself to speak: emotions overwhelmed her capacity for words. The immeasurable highs and lows had won out, capped off on the highest of highs by Emmrich’s solemn declaration: she would never face anything alone again. The fight left her as she closed her eyes and nodded, and this time Emmrich caught her tears and wiped them away. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead before turning to the others.

“She’s in no danger,” he assured them. “The gifts of a Reaper are channelled through a place of deep sorrow and grief where one should not dwell indefinitely: she is merely exhausted, and in light of this ordeal coming to an end, her body and mind are insisting upon rest and recuperation for a time. I shall go with her to find a room and get her settled in.”

“I’ll scour the pantry.” Lucanis announced without hesitation, already shedding his gore-slicked coat. “A house like this will have a well stocked larder: I cannot do much else to assist, but I will see to it that Rook gets a good meal.”

“And I’ll find something strong to drink - I think we could all use one - especially Rook,” Taash volunteered grimly.

Davrin finished checking over a cut under Assan’s eye, deeming it to be harmless. “Assan can keep her company after I find him something to eat. I’m sure he’d love to cuddle up with his favourite person after a day like today.”

“I’ll make sure word gets around that she’s not to be disturbed under any circumstances - Maker knows there’ll be all kinds of people at the door wanting her attention.” Neve remarked. “She’s in good hands with you, Emmrich. We’ll take care of everything else: you take care of her.”

Their words echoed in Amina’s mind as Emmrich started to lead her away towards the carpeted stairs. It wasn’t long ago that she would have fought tooth and nail to avoid accepting their help for fear that she didn’t actually deserve it - that she had somehow tricked good-hearted people into thinking that she was worth any amount of concern. But now with this aching, vacuous hole in her chest threatening to devour her from the inside, knowing that she had many sets of arms to fall back into… it meant everything.

“I love you too,” she said as they walked, the gold rings tied to her boots to alert any nearby spirits of her presence chiming with each tired step. “I love you so much Emmrich, I - I…” Her voice wavered and broke again.

He shushed her gently as they rose the stairs and took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips to place comforting kisses to bloodied and dented metal. “It’s alright, darling. I know… I know.”

They made it to the landing at the top of the stairs and Emmrich loosened his hand from hers only long enough to gesture through the air, causing the lamps lining the long hallway to illuminate with the familiar and consoling green light of veilfire - it reminded her so much of home… their home.

Meandering down the hallway, they apraised a few rooms - a study and a nursery among them - before finding a well-appointed bedroom near the end of the hall.

The same veilfire that illuminated the hallway flooded the room with a self-assured wave of Emmrich’s fingers through the air, revealing the gilded frame of the largest four-poster bed Amina had ever seen.

A modestly sized house would have fit comfortably within the textured red walls of the room, and every square inch was bedecked with glittering opulence and expensive furniture.

What had happened to the people who called this place home? She thought of the nursery, silent and dark, her heart sinking further.

“I know…” Emmrich’s sigh was put-upon. “It’s practically a hovel isn’t it? But our only option currently, I’m afraid.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards in a wry smile and despite everything, she couldn’t help but smile a little too if only for the fact that his dry humour was at its most uplifting when things seemed bleakest: it was a rarely praised trait of a good Watcher to be able to maintain a sense of humour - sometimes being able to laugh was the only thing that could keep said Watcher sane.

He closed the heavy cherry door behind them softly and turned the latch, his definition of ‘recuperation’ clearly non-negotiable to anyone who found themselves outside of the bedchamber wanting to talk to her.

The silence was inescapable now, contrasting strongly to the overwhelming chorus of sound she’d been subjected to for hours. It filled her head - made it feel full of cotton - and she frowned, standing perfectly still, observing Emmrich as he hung his staff from the rack by the door and shed his bloodied and tattered coat, hanging it with care before turning to Amina.

“We need to get you out of that armour.”

He set his gloves on a nearby console table and rolled up his sleeves, agile fingers performing the task with an ease that suggested he hadn’t personally assisted with the culling of a tyrannical elvhen god today. Amina felt her mouth go dry under his perceiving gaze - she’d taken direct blows from Hurlocks that winded her less than the intensity of those eyes. Overwhelmed and at her wit’s end or not, he was capable of sending something in her soul aflutter even at a time like this… that could only mean that she was still alive, right? That she hadn’t laid the last shred of her own mortal conscience on the pyre in the name of saving what little of Thedas remained to be saved?

She swallowed thickly. “I’m experiencing some sort of deja vu, I think,” she murmured, as he closed the distance between them and began loosening her baldric. “Because I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”

An amused smile visited his face, his eyes downcast and focused on his task. “We have, haven’t we? I recall that convincing you to allow me to stitch you up on that occasion was also similar to pulling teeth.”

He kissed her again and went back to work, stripping away pieces of moulded metal in silence, shucking away the intimidating, unrelenting shell of a Reaper and exposing the soft, vulnerable person underneath.

He had made it all the way down to her greaves when she emitted a sharp gasp and clapped a hand over her mouth.

“My shield! Where’s my shield?!” She twisted in his grasp as if to look around the room for the worn and dented buckler she famously refused to part with.

Emmrich’s brow furrowed and he worked another strap loose. “It was broken, darling, remember? By Elgar’nan.”

At his words, the memory rushed back to her: massive fingers curling over the edge of her shield as she held it aloft in the darkness, determined to stand her ground, her body protesting with the sheer effort of keeping her defence up in the looming shadow of her ancient enemy… the sound of metal whining as it bent in that ungodly strong grip and finally shattered…

I dropped it and finished the fight with only my sword and the dagger…

“Oh, right… how silly of me to forget…” she said distantly as Emmrich finished with the greave and rose with a gingerness that at last indicated his own fatigue.

“Details will likely come and go in a disconcerting haze over the coming days.” He parted from her and peered into a secondary room off the one they were in and disappeared into it when it seemed to contain what he was looking for. The sound of running water soon followed and he re-emerged. “Try not to concern yourself with them: they are of little importance right now. You have no need for a shield or sword - we are safe.” He ran a hand down her shoulder affectionately. “I understand that contradicts a large part of your vocational education, but you must trust me. Now if you’ll follow me, we’ll take care of all of that… debris in your hair.”

‘Debris’ was hardly what she would call the grisly amalgamation of fluids and various clumped tissues that would make even the most decay-happy embalmers back home feel squeamish, but Amina took Emmrich’s hand and followed him without complaint.

A gigantic clawfoot tub was filling with water in the middle of the cavernous bathroom, and judging by the calming aroma diffusing through the air, Emmrich had helped himself to some of the scented bath oils that belonged to whomever owned the manor.

He brought her to the sink and pulled over an upholstered stool from the nearby vanity, placing it in front of the sink and gently directing her to sit, his hand on her lower back guiding her. “The bath will be more relaxing if at least your hair is clean before you get in,” he explained, turning the taps and motioning for her to lean back.

“Is this supposed to fix things?” Her voice was so quiet and insubstantial over the rushing water - she was surprised Emmrich even heard her as she settled the base of her skull at the rim of the sink basin and he began sweeping her long hair into his hands, wetting it and carefully picking out pieces of marble and bone and viscera as he found them.

“There is nothing to be fixed, my darling - least of all you, if that’s your primary concern. You know as well as I that our work can be exhausting - mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. It’s why we are well compensated and encouraged to take time away from the Necropolis when we feel we need it. A lesson was learned at some point over the untold years that the Necropolis has existed and people have vowed to serve its departed souls, and that is: one cannot effectively fill the cups of others when their own is dry.” He reached over her and Amina looked up at him, hanging onto his every word. She did know all of this - in fact she’d dispensed similar advice to other Watchers and mourners alike in the past, but… hearing it from someone else… being told that it was alright and that she didn’t have to be strong right now was deeply comforting. “It is not demonstrative of carelessness to the plight of others to think of oneself. I’m of the mind that it’s one of the more selfless virtues a person can aspire to.”

Amina closed her eyes and sighed, her nose filling with the delicate floral scent of the soap that Emmrich had started methodically working through her hair. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

A tender caress passed over her temple. “I do try. Are you feeling a little bit better? It looks as though some colour has returned to your face.”

“Now you’re just laying it on thick by implying that my face had any colour to begin with, but yes… I feel steadier, more grounded.”

“That’s music to my ears, darling,” and indeed Emmrich seemed to sag in relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he rinsed away the lathered soap, his touch unerringly mild. Washing the hair of the deceased required a gentle hand - the follicles on the scalp dilated as the skin began to dehydrate in the hours after death, making it easy to accidentally pull out clumps of a decedent’s hair if one handled it too roughly.

So much of the world thought their calling was one of macabre vulgarity when it was actually an ineffable devotion of love and tenderness when it came to the handling of all things… alive or dead.

Excess water trickled down the drain as he wrung out her hair and gestured for her to sit upright with a light touch of his fingers on her shoulder - he was so good at that - so confident in his ability to impart instructions that he didn’t even need words to make his expectation clear. She turned on the seat, putting her back to him so it was easier for him to weave her damp hair into a braid.

She closed her eyes again and a satisfied hum resonated in her chest as slender fingers stroked through her hair, separating it and passing the strands from hand to hand.

When he was done, he took her hand and helped her to her feet. “I’ll leave you to the privacy of your bath, but I will remain close by: if you require anything at all, my dearest love, just call.” He bowed his head respectfully, his thumb tracing the soft skin at the inside of her wrist before he turned to depart.

“Please stay,” she entreated, locking her fingers between his before he could step out of reach. He halted. “I… I would rather not be alone right now, if it’s alright with you.”

He lifted their entwined hands and kissed the back of hers. “Of course. In that case, I’ll step out while you make yourself comfortable and will return when you’re ready for me.”

Ever the gentleman. He clearly wasn’t going to let their passion in the Necropolis the night before get the better of decades of deeply ingrained propriety. She felt her pulse quicken slightly at the fresh memory of their night together and wondered if the invitation to keep her company while she sat naked in a bathtub made his heart pound too, but a wave of shame crashed through her just as quickly, smothering the heat that had started to smoulder in her belly: people were dead, and now was not the time for such thoughts.

When the door closed behind Emmrich, Amina clambored out of her stiff, smelly clothing, grimacing as she peeled sticky fabric from her skin. She left everything in a heap and nudged it to the other side of the room with her bare foot, wanting to be as far away from the stench as possible. When she was satisfied, she sank into the bathtub, a purely reflexive moan slipping from her lips at the feeling of relief as warm water enfolded aching muscles. The water was almost instantly dirtied, but she didn’t care - it felt amazing.

“You can come in.” She drew her braid over her shoulder and folded her arms on the porcelain edge of the tub, resting her chin on her hands. Even if it mattered to her there was no need to fear for her modesty: whatever Emmrich had added to the water made it semi-opaque and it looked very pretty in the light of the veilfire.

Emmrich sat on the vanity stool. “How is it, darling?”

“It’s perfect.” She found his hand with hers again - it seemed she couldn’t bear to be parted from him for long… not when they’d come so close to losing one another.

“You have no idea what a relief that is to hear.”

Her lips curved into a smile as she studied him silently, turning thoughts and feelings over in her mind. Her heart was heavy, and her body was spent. People had indeed died - tragedy and victory apportioned in equal measure, but Emmrich was right: she had given as much of herself to the cause as she was capable of giving… and then some. There was still work to be done - the restoration of Thedas would be long and difficult. But it was time to rest and take a hard-earned moment of peace for what it was, even though a persistent voice in the back of her mind screamed at her to cease dallying in the bath and get back to work.

No.

“Would you like to join me?”

The question was posed such that it caught Emmrich off guard, causing his eyes to widen and a flush of colour to creep over his pallid skin. His mouth hung open slightly.

“J-join you? I can wait until you’re done - that is to say: finished - I would hate to impose, you see–”

She listened to him stumble over his words, enchanted by his flustered demeanour until she decided it was time to rescue him, and said, “It’s no imposition at all. Besides, if you’re in the same state as I am underneath all those clothes, I suspect you’ve got bits of darkspawn in places where even your flexible limbs can’t reach: a collaborative approach to bathing would serve us best in this situation.”

Emmrich’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. “You make a compelling argument, I admit, but–”

“We had sex in a coffin under the Necropolis last night because we knew the world might end in the morning, Emmrich - I think it’s fair to say that any notion that this is in any way a traditional courtship has gone out the window.” She reached out and popped loose the topmost button of his shirt. “Besides, the idea of having to wait through an entire courtship before I can have you sounds torturous…” her thumb and forefinger found another button, and he didn’t move to stop her. “I think I prefer our abridged approach, if I’m being honest…” she smirked and went for the third button but he intercepted her, graceful fingers catching her wrist.

“That may be the case, dearest, but I still intend to treat you with the veneration you are owed as my beloved.”

A shiver ran up her spine - it might have been the sentiment - my beloved - or the fact that it was delivered in a tone half an octave lower than usual. She couldn’t settle on a conclusion, but she felt emboldened regardless.

“Then you can start by getting into this ridiculously large bathtub with me,” she whispered coquettishly, and she followed the path of his hand with her eyes as it released her wrist and drifted to that third button, slipping it free with a practised twist.

She felt herself smile properly for the first time that day as Emmrich disrobed and lowered himself into the water across from her: it was real - he was real - and he wanted her. Wanted her enough to occupy dirty bathwater with her without complaint.

His legs brushed against hers under the water and she resisted the very compelling urge to launch herself at him just to feel his skin on hers as she had the night before. Instead, she grabbed a bar of soap and a sponge off the tray on the side of the tub and held them up.

Emmrich tilted his head inquisitively but said nothing: the amused curl of his lips said it all. He turned his back to her and slotted himself between her legs and Amina wet the soap and began wiping away the worst of the dirt from his shoulders and back with the sponge. She took her time, relishing the warmth of him under her fingers as she washed away the remains of the day.

“So… about those plans you mentioned earlier: care to expand on them?” She ventured.

She didn’t want to think about today anymore, didn’t want to linger on thoughts of Varric and Harding… those would insist on themselves enough over the coming months as she grieved them, she knew that for certain. Right now turning her mind to thoughts of a future that was almost lost seemed like a better distraction.

Emmrich chuckled warmly, the comforting lilt reverberating around the room. “It’s an extensive list, I’m afraid, too lengthy and detailed to summarise neatly in a few breaths.” She squeezed the sponge and sent a stream of water and suds meandering down his arm, tracing the shape of his sharp angles and lissom composition. “Truth be told, I was actually hoping you might render some assistance.”

“Oh?”

“As you know, I have pupils awaiting my return to the Necropolis: their studies have been regrettably delayed in my absence, not to mention Manfred will require oversight as he embarks on his own educational journey.”

“But…”

“I’ve rather enjoyed my time beyond the walls of the Necropolis, and now that I’m not… now that I will most certainly…” He seemed unable to settle on a palatable way to say ‘die’.

“It’s alright,” she squeezed his shoulder softly. “Go on.”

“Thank you, dear - it’s only that my priorities have been somewhat reorganised given the revised trajectory of my life: I no longer have a theoretically unlimited amount of time in which to see the world, and I find myself wondering if it would be terribly selfish of me to defer the date of my return for a while longer - take a sabbatical of sorts so that I may continue to experience the wonders of the continent without the looming threat of annihilation… with you, should you wish to accompany me.” He looked over his shoulder at her and Amina wasn’t ignorant of the fleeting glance that wandered down to her soapy breasts, nor the desire that shadowed his eyes at the sight of her pale nipples just peeking over the surface of the water. Oh dear, he was getting distracted…

“Don’t know how much of the continent there is left to see after everything.” She wrung the sponge, making a subtle but very deliberate show of pushing her breasts together with the insides of her arms. Emmrich’s throat bobbed and he seemed to win some inner struggle after a moment and looked forward again. “But yeah… I think a break would do us both some good. Besides, ‘seeing the world’ was what I was supposed to be doing anyway before this nightmare started. I’ll go anywhere with you, Emmrich,” she smiled. “Especially if there’s a beach involved.”

She scooted closer to him, bracketing him between her thighs, finding his skin with hers as she reached around him to start soaping up his chest. Spurred on by the breathy little gasp he made, Amina continued to wash him, kissing up the line of his neck as she did.

“What other plans would you like to make with me, darling?” She whispered, softly catching his earlobe between her teeth and earning a tantalising whine for her trouble.

“At the moment, none that are fit for polite company…”

“Good thing it’s just the two of us then.” She let go of the sponge and dipped her hand beneath the surface of the fragrant water, unable to see, but able to feel her way, fingers dancing over his abdomen, following the neatly tended to strip of hair that started at his navel, down, down, down until she found him - and she found him to be rock hard.

He moaned in earnest now, his head falling back against her shoulder, hand rising to cup the side of her face as she slowly stroked the length of him, humming contentedly, unable to help herself: she wanted him in her, on her, and around her at all times.

“Care to hear about my plans?” She pressed a kiss to the expanse of skin under his ear. “We can compare notes after.”

“Please,” he breathed, eyes closed, a contented smile spreading across his face - the very definition of the cat that got the cream.

She drew nondescript shapes on his chest with her fingers, lingering on the patch of hair at his sternum, the bar of soap forgotten and lost to the bottom of the tub. “First on my list when we get out of this bath: I’m going to make love to you - slowly… sweetly.” She drew her lower lip through her teeth at the throb of his cock under her fingers and the shudder she coaxed from him when she ran the tip of her thumb over his slit, feeling the slick texture of his anticipation even in the water. “... and after that, I’m going to do it again, and Maker-willing, a third time after that if I have my way…”

His eyebrows rose, but his eyes remained shut, one corner of his mouth quirked upwards. “Aren’t we ambitious?” He purred, arcing up into her touch a little. “One can’t help but wonder what you’ll do after that…”

“Oh, find something to eat.” She answered matter-of-factly, entirely at the mercy of the rising heat between her thighs. “I expect I will have worked up quite an appetite, you see.”

“It’s important to stay nourished,” Emmrich agreed, exhaling deeply as she continued to fondle him under the water. “That feels so good, darling…”

“Good.” She smiled against his skin and kissed his temple. “Because that’s also part of my plan, broadly speaking: I’m going to make you feel amazing for the rest of our lives, Emmrich. Not a single sun will set on a day where you feel alone: your joys will be my joys, your sorrows my sorrows.”

His eyes opened at that and he regarded her with that soft look of utter adoration that he was so adept at. He stroked her cheek and she nuzzled into his long fingered hand. “My dear… that was quite possibly the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Delivered whilst pleasuring you no less.”

“You are beyond compare, darling Amina.” He sighed and lazily thrust up into her hand again. “And I daresay our respective plans indeed bear many similarities. I would even go so far as to say they align perfectly.” He sat forward and turned so he was face to face with her again, collecting her arms and drawing her close so their noses were almost touching.

“Lucky me.”

He traced each vertebrae of her spine with lithe fingers, bangles clinking together as they slipped down his arm one after the other, his hand finding the curve of her rear and drawing their centres even closer together. She positively ached with need for him as he cradled her face and kissed her deeply, unabashedly exploring her mouth and tasting her with a dominance she was not anticipating. When they parted her lips and cheeks were flushed, her pupils blown wide.

“I’m going to make a home with you, Rook - that is my plan.”

Amina considered him - his intelligent bottle green eyes inches from hers, their breath shared, their bodies practically flush. Despite how lust-addled her exhausted brain was, tears returned to her, driven by the sheer depth of Emmrich’s ambitions for them: A home. A life together and all that could come with it if she only dared to dream it - her: the Necropolis foundling who never felt like she truly belonged anywhere or mattered to anyone beyond the basic charity of some.

“We need to hurry up and finish with this bath,” she rasped, her voice low to keep it steady. “I need you. I need you now.” She crushed her lips to his hungrily and breathed, “I love you.”

What immediately followed was a frenzy of soap and bubbles and water splashing over the tile floor as they finished scrubbing each other down with much less sensual flair than before. The plunger was pulled from the bottom of the tub and they towelled off as it drained, pausing intermittently to passionately embrace.

“I never thought I could be this happy,” she panted, rising on her tip-toes to pepper his jawline with kisses.

“Nor I,” Emmrich concurred. He turned her head and buried his nose in her neck, sucking a rosy mark onto her skin, unable to help himself as her hands roamed. He snaked his arm around her waist and hoisted her aloft, racing for the bedroom, her legs tight around him, her entire being coursing with the anticipatory thrill of their imminent union.

He placed her on the bed with a tenderness that contrasted heavily with the urgency of their flight from the bathroom and prowled over the bed towards her, the inherent grace of his body setting her heart aflame as he splayed one hand over her lower belly and slid her leg aside with the other, opening her like the cherished pages of a beloved tome. He looked positively sinful between her legs, his hair dishevelled and dripping rivulets of water down his neck and shoulders.

Her breath hitched at the feeling of his lips against her, the soft tickle of his moustache over the sensitive skin at the peak of her thighs. “Ohhh…”

His eyes were locked on hers. He parted her with his fingers, dipped his head, and —

Thump-thump-thump.

Of course there was someone at the door.

Amina heaved a massive sigh and dragged her hands through her hair in exasperation. She’d seen Emmrich annoyed before - or at least she thought she had - but the look on his face now was one of primly murderous intent: the face of a man whose nearly boundless patience was being sorely tested in this moment. The expression softened, though, when he looked back to her and said, “I’ll see to it, darling - I shan’t take long.” He placed his lips sweetly against her swollen bud - a parting kiss - before sliding from the bed.

He quickly donned an elegant paisley dressing gown that he snatched from the wardrobe, and Amina knew he would never have considered helping himself to someone else’s things under normal circumstances, but his clothes were in a filthy heap on the bathroom floor, and while they had all grown quite close during their time together, Emmrich preferred to keep some things private.

She propped her head on her hand and stifled a giggle as he walked past a shelf, flung out an arm, grabbed a book without looking, and arranged it in front of him in such a way that it concealed his prominent arousal. She couldn’t tell who was outside as he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, so she let her head fall to the pillow and rolled onto her back. It was a very comfortable bed: soft pillows, expensive linens.

Terribly comfortable.

Weeks of broken sleep caught up with her all at once as she fought to keep her eyes open: she was so tired all of a sudden.

So incredibly, inescapably tired…

If Lucanis had drawn any conclusions about the reason for his state of dress or his wet hair, he kept them to himself but for the briefest arching of a brow as he handed Emmrich the tray of toasted cheese sandwiches and bid him a long and restful night of sleep. Emmrich wished him the same and watched the Crow disappear back down the stairs before retreating into the room and locking the door again.

“Lucanis managed to scrape together–” he looked towards the bed and paused: Amina was sleeping soundly on top of the comforter, her face peaceful and unvexed: a rare sight indeed. Something in his chest pulled as he watched her even, deep breaths, her mouth slightly open as she slumbered.

He set down the sandwiches and the book very carefully on the console table, not daring to make any noise that might startle her awake before making his way over to the bed and positioning her under the blankets with the same amount of care, manoeuvring her battered and scarred legs so she was covered and warm.

She had such plans for the evening, but as he shed the dressing gown and slipped into the bed alongside her, he was grateful that she had found rest at last: they had the rest of their lives to make love.

The veilfire light in the room was snuffed with a wave, and as he curled around her in the dark, losing himself in the scent of her, he found his own respite in the rhythm of her heart beneath his hand and the unpromised gift of tomorrow.

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