#v ; stars shine bright with you.

[dimensionbled]

how does ford feel about your girlfriend or wife

"Probably nothing. Because they've never met."

[q-h0pefall]

— withsorrowandregret | look at the stars — look how they shine for you and everything you do

— izuku & shoto (withsorrowandregret) | for you i'd bleed myself dry — don't you know i love you so?

— midoriya izuku (roguesenses) | you say i won't be lost forever. and soon i wouldn't feel like i'm haunted — like i'm falling

— izuku & shoto (roguesenses) | came to you with a broken faith. gave me more than a hand to hold. could you take care of a broken soul?

— v. wish (roguesenses) | bring me a dream. make him the cutest that i've ever seen. then tell him that his lonesome nights are over

— v. crack (roguesenses) | his eyes remind me of the green onions in my favorite soba

— ofsavior | today and all of your days i'll wear your pain — heal what i can in your troubled mind

— momo & shoto (ofsavior) | i breathe you in so sweet and powerful — like a wildfire burning up inside my lungs

— luxaeterna | dark was the night. his shape burned a void in my eyes — it was black but so violently bright like the birth of a sun

— eren & levi (luxaeterna) | to be loved means to be consumed. to love means to radiate with inexhaustible light

— v. reincarnation (luxaeterna) | maybe we just found forever at the wrong time and someday time will pull us back together again

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

࣪ ˖✧ The Jackpot

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: You join Arthur and the boys for a job on the Grand Korrigan riverboat where you act as Arthur’s lap girl. The man in question is more than excited about this decision. ✦ Warnings: Guns, mention of shooting, swearing, SMUT, oral (reader receiving), edging if you squint, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 3,8k ✦ a/n: A big heartwarming thank you to @zae-heeyyy!! Who took the time to correct my dumb spelling and give me her thoughts on this before publishing it! Please go check her work, I swear it won't disappoint! Also: pictures are not mine! I usually try to use a pic for Arthur from my own playthrough but I'm fcking stuck on Guarma rn. Found them on Pinterest.

Dim lights are flickering all around you, making the golden ornaments of the luxurious place you're in shine like a thousand stars. You couldn't believe this gigantic reception room, gratified by a bar, a grand piano, and of course, three elegant poker tables, was actually floating on water right now, as you were on the Grand Korrigan boat, the jewel of its kind, den of the richest gentlemen in St. Denis, in search for some amusement and of course, even more money.

Trelawny and Herr Strauss had plotted a well-crafted deal that could earn a lot of money for the gang. Along with Javier disguised as one of the guards, Arthur would act as a new wealthy businessman who had just made a fortune in oil. Strauss would give him signals during his poker game, which guaranteed him to win considering Trelawny had made a friend out of the dealer.

You? You'd play his mistress, sitting on his lap during the game to make the scene look more convincing. On top of that, you had been able to hide a little gun in a hidden pocket in the underside of your dress, guaranteeing some extra protection, which wasn't a bad idea considering the Grand Korrigan was heavily armed and neither Arthur, Trelawny nor Strauss had one.

So here you were, thriving in your role, comfortably sitting on Arthur's lap, hands wrapped around his neck, both legs hanging on his left side. His arms were enveloping you, hands resting on the edge of the table as he was focusing on his cards.

Well, more like trying to focus, actually.

Maybe it was because you two had started a quite passionate relationship a few weeks ago, sneaking in each other's tent, simple kisses and whispers in the night quickly turning into something more, the both of you having cravings to fulfill.

Maybe it was because Trelawny, the damned man, had chosen a particularly suggestive dress for you to wear, comforting your play considering wives weren't allowed at the poker tables, only work girls and such, your cleavage on full display for his immoral eyes.

Maybe it was the way he could feel the round and warm flesh of your ass even through the fabric of your clothes, right where he wanted to, making his brain impossible to function properly, desperately trying to keep the hardness between his legs to stay in line.

Either way, Arthur had to make enormous efforts to focus on the job and was frankly relieved Strauss was telling him what to do; despite being a pretty good poker player, he would never have been able to win the easiest of games in this state.

Strauss told him to go all-in. He did. You smiled, you would have lied saying you weren't enjoying yourself right now. You had known far worse jobs than playing Arthur's lover. Much to your surprise, he had played a really convincing character through the night too, his usual mumbling far gone, replaced by a bright and confident speech and a cheeky grin that was making you want to kiss it even more. In fact, you wanted to take care of him just to see this cocky smirk flatter under your touch, replaced by a pleasured expression on his handsome face.

It was easy to say both of you were acting pretty good, but inside felt like two teenagers in love.

Arthur had won another hand, men were starting to leave the table, angry. It was only you both and the target now, an opulent man known as Desmond Blythe, loaded with money thanks to his hosiery business.

You pulled a cigarette out of Arthur's pocket along with a match, and you felt his breath hitch for an instant when you slipped your hand in it. Rubbing the match against the wood of the table, you lighted the cigarette casually, little flame illuminating a thin grin on your lips. You took a small drag on it to make sure the tobacco had plainly burnt, then you placed the cigarette in front of Arthur's lips, holding it for him between your index and middle finger, so that he could smoke on it while keeping both his hands on his cards.

It was downright one of the hottest things anybody had done to him and he was starting to lose it. Wrapping his lips around your offering and smoking a long drag, he allowed himself to avert his gaze from his opponent for a few seconds, planting his turquoise pupils into yours.

His eyes were half-lidded, long lashes accentuating the languorous gaze he was giving you. Your heart started racing. The power this man had on you was insane, but if only you knew what you were doing to him in return. You had a glimpse of it though, right there in the depths of his two blue diamonds, this so distinctive dark glow of him, direct window on the sinful pit of his urges.

You were sure your own eyes were mirroring it. And it got worse when, after exhaling some smoke, he quickly kissed the palm of your hand, indicating he had smoked enough, the warm sensation of his chapped lips on your skin giving you goosebumps. His eyes went back to Blythe, and you exhaled as if you had been holding your breath during the whole time you had locked eyes.

You retrieved your hand, taking a drag yourself on the cigarette after him, loving the idea of sharing it with him, of putting your lips right where he did a few seconds before, your biased brain telling you you could taste sweet remnants of him there.

Another all-in, another hand won by Arthur who couldn't stop himself from smiling this sly cocky smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Shit, shit!" Blythe shouted, hitting on the table with his fists furiously.

"I guess ma luck held... Is that you done?" Arthur asked him, his tone triumphant while bending over the table to gather his not-so-well-deserved chips. "Or, do you got somethin' else to play with?" He added more lowly, his baritone voice almost making you shiver just hearing it.

"Meaning?" Desmond questioned back, visibly frustrated. Looked like frustration was a popular feeling around this poker table tonight, about the game or other things...

Arthur had gotten up from his chair and you too, now standing by his side, partially glued to his body as he had snaked an arm around your waist while finishing to put in order his chips. He answered using the same taunting, arrogant tone as before.

"Well, I heard there was some big boys on this boat, maybe that's not you, no offense-"

"Sit your and your whore's hillbilly asses down." The rich men cut him off, voice dark and serious.

You felt Arthur's hand grip tighter on your waist. For a faint moment, you thought that his cover would collapse, considering how tense he had gotten hearing him calling you a whore. But the way he was still smiling was almost even more scary, it was a false, threatening one. The kind of smile that hides a cold anger, boiling silently inside.

"Why?" Arthur simply answered, tone brilliantly contained considering the way his muscles were flexing on their own under his fancy suit.

"I got a watch... An expensive one, swiss... a Reutlinger no less. It's in the safe, upstairs. It's worth more than you."

You forced yourself not to cross eyes with Arthur. Your target. He had just confirmed what you were all here for. Perfect, just a bit more of this whole play and Arthur would be able to access the strongbox.

"Okay, I trust ya." Arthur consented while sitting back on his chair, placing you with his two big hands back at your place, on his lap. You were definitely loving this job. You'd have to thank Trelawny for it, someday.

The rest of the game passed just like before, your outlaw ultimately winning once more thanks to your colleague's little trick. Desmond was furious, and you obtained your goal.

Arthur happily got up once again, gently helping you stand, one of his hands naturally resting on your shoulder. Before following the gentleman who was supposed to bring him to the safe, he bent over to you, head brushing against yours, his stubble and hairs tickling your cheeks. He whispered in your ear, voice deep and hoarse, this one voice that was always making your head turn.

"When we're finished here, I'm gonna take care of ya, darlin'."

You sighed, cracking up a sly smirk, your cheeks turning a bit red. These simple words were enough to make the heat between your thighs make itself known; crying out for attention. Being so close like this was allowing you to breathe in his scent, its combination on top of his breath on your ear was a dangerous mix for your sanity. You took the opportunity of having his skin so close to your lips to place a small kiss on his neck, right below his own ear.

Arthur smiled at you, his bright blue eyes sparkling as he took a last look at you before walking off. You sighed softly again, already missing his presence. The wait for some time alone was only making your own needs grow.

You were only hoping the job would end up smoothly.

Of course, it didn't. 

Desmond, sore loser, had accused Arthur of cheating. That and the fact that the guard Javier had knocked off to steal his clothes had appeared out of nowhere yelling to shoot him had set things on fire on the Grand Korrigan, the boat now witness to a heated shooting the Van Der Linde Gang was known for.

You had instantly pulled out your hidden gun and helped Arthur clean up the place thanks to Javier who had thrown him a rifle. The night had ended with your incongruous team jumping straight in the water, swimming back to the shore, a quite odd and armed to the teeth fish shoal. At least, everyone was alive, and you even had obtained a pretty decent amount of money, not even mentioning the watch Strauss had authenticated as a real Reutlinger. Arthur had quickly taken back the precious object from his greedy hands, "well give it back then", which made you laugh to yourself.

True to himself, your cowboy had instructed everyone to separate and get out of the shore, as always after a job. You were all quite a sight, soaked to the bones. As you were greeting everyone a good night, Arthur silently walked to you and grabbed your hand. Even with the water you both had leaking from your clothes to your skin, you could feel how warm his hand was, contrasting yours which was completely freezing cold from having swam in the icy waters. You wondered if this man was even human.

"But you, Miss, are comin' with me." He playfully informed you, not leaving you any choice.

It was not as if you wanted to go anywhere else anyway.

"Really now? What d'ya have in mind, cowboy?" You asked him with an equally mischievous tone on your own, your eye glued to the way his hair looked completely soaked, subtle rivulets sliding all the way from it to his neck.

"Maybe we could pay ourselves a well-deserved night in town..." He proposed, voice turning more and more into a low growl as he was letting his desires take the lead on his reason.

"I would love that." You simply agreed, before getting closer to him, tilting your head up to bring your lips to his. He gladly let you, one hand still holding yours, the other gently landing on the side of your face.

The walk to the La Bastille Saloon was supposed to be a short one, but you both looked like you couldn't wait to be there before teasing each other. You would sometimes stop walking to just attack his neck, lips merciless as you sucked and kissed him there. Your taunting acts were often met with his equally heated answer, one of his palms ending on your ass, or your thighs, your wet clothes transparent and glued to your curves not helping him to keep his touch away from these places of your body. Arthur's breath sharpened as he called you his lil minx, and no, darlin’, we can't just do it on the streets.

Finally, after having shocked the barman by arriving at such late hours in completely soaked clothes, which honestly just made the both of you laugh mischievously, you reached your love nest for the night.

And what a nest! Silk sheets, canopy bed, sumptuous decor glistening with the dim lights of the chandeliers. Even the floor looked comfortable, carpeted with some fancy patterns, matching the couch and bed's color. Red, just like passion, just like lust. Red, like the color of your cheeks right now as Arthur had closed the door and was already on his knees, placing you on the edge of the mattress. Red, just like what Arthur was seeing right now, hungry hands pulling your dress up, positioning himself between your thighs.

You looked down at him, his darkened eyes looking at you. You noticed he had ripped off his fancy tie, needing to breathe properly, the heat between you both already making him suffocate. In those moments, his beautiful pupils were always shining with a more murky color, his usual sky blue turning into a more cobalt one. They were staring intensely into yours, expression questioning. A silent demand. You nodded positively, quietly answering. Dooming yourself.

The moment you did, he buried his head between your legs, left hand resting on your hip, holding you gently. His lips started kissing softly on the fabric of your undergarments. His other hand quickly came, helping him in his task by pulling it to the side, granting him access.

The moment his lips met your folds, you let out a moan, unable to resist the feeling he was giving you. He was loving it, his ears getting redder as he was more and more aroused himself. He was so big between your thighs, his shoulders were spreading them almost completely open.

He licked in a long, slow movement all the way to the top of your pussy, making you sigh in pleasure already, hips jerking against his head, begging for more.

"Easy, girl... I've got ya." He soothed you hoarsely, left hand holding you more firmly to prevent you from crushing him totally. Nevertheless, he took your eagerness into account; he couldn't deny you anything. Not when it came to sex. Not when you were so beautiful in this ostentatious dress. Not when he had grown more and more found of you, even if he was refusing to admit it to himself completely for now.

He brought his lips on the top of your core, tongue gently circling around this so special knot of nerves, his stubble scratching pleasantly against your skin, bringing you even more sensations.

It was already so good, Arthur's mouth showing you no pity, licking, sucking, kissing, as if you were becoming the only food he could ever feast on, the only oxygen he could breathe with. The sight of his broken nose buried beneath your skin, as if he was searching to go even deeper within you was almost too much for you to handle. Your hands that were gripping the sheets had now found the top of his head, spurring him to continue, please please please, Arthur, more, or you could have died right here on the fancy bed of the La Bastille Saloon.

Arthur's tongue answered your begging call, lapping your sensitive spot faster, harder. How the Hell was that man so good at pleasuring a woman? That, sinful, dirty man, just like the sounds you were letting out right now.

Your vision started to blur, the back of your head sinking onto the mattress, your back arching deliciously, and you were going to let him know just how close you were until he stopped all of a sudden.

"A-Arthur!" You protested, head snapping back at him, eyes pleading, tone both offended and needy as his name had sounded more like a whine when it had felt from your mouth.

He smiled cockily at you from where he was, his mouth looking wet with your arousal. He loved it, he loved being responsible for it.

"I'm here, girl... I jus' need ya too much right now. Lemme just..."

His voice was now a low rumble, coming from the depth of his chest. You watched as he quickly ripped off his clothes with little care for them. Trelawny would have shouted at how he was treating one of the most expensive suits he had ever brought.

But he didn't care about the suit. And neither do you, as your eyes were devouring every inch of his flesh that was appearing under them. The sight of a completely naked Arthur always had the same effect on you, no matter how many times you already had seen it.

His muscular body looked like it had been carved by Angels. No, more likely by an angry, dark God, who would have sculpted him from a hard and brutal material, his many scars and blurs a remnant of it. You could almost picture his tools molding your lover's broad chest and shoulders with sharp, furious hammer blows. His powerful arms and legs had received the same treatment, as if the deity wanted to pass on all of his brutal force into his creation. And his cock was definitely no exception to it.

And yet, this massive force of nature was blushing under your gaze. He couldn't have resisted the hurtful sensation of emptiness around his shaft, one of his hands now giving himself a few strokes to try and relieve some of it. His eyes closed in a frown for a few seconds, your pussy burned at this unholy scenery he was offering you.

You were in such a state of need it was almost depraved. You quickly got rid of your own clothes, tossing them somewhere on the floor of the room, needing to share this intimacy with him, to feel his skin against yours.

"Oh, please... Arthur, jus' take me..." You asked yourself before he could probe your adequation. You knew him well now, you already knew the next words he was going to speak would be another demand to make sure you truly wanted this.

He seemed to enjoy how you had forecasted it, his eyes opening again to look at you, his cock hardening even more, precum slowly leaking from its top, wasting all the efforts he had done to relieve it a bit.

"If that's what you want darlin'... I'm your man." He answered in a growl, climbing next to you on the bed.

You weren't sure why but his last words had made your heart swell in your chest. You were sure, deep down inside of you, that he meant it in another way. He really had become yours, and you, his. Lost in your thoughts, you let him handle you gently, placing you on your belly against the silk sheets, lying himself on top of you, legs between yours.

You slightly moved your rear up against his erection, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. Saying he had loved it was an understatement; he had been thinking about doing this with you since you had sat on him on the riverboat.

Using his right hand, he placed his cock against your entrance, and finally started pushing, your pussy already ready for him thanks to his ministrations, your mouth mewling at the sensation. Your perfect, hot walls were finally enveloping him, and he tried his best not to come just from that intense feeling alone.

He was so big and tall behind you, his head could reach yours and he buried it onto the crook of your neck, his hair still wet offering you a cold feel, contrasting with his whole hot chest pressed on your back, making you feel as if a literal inferno was burning it. He slowly started to pull back, only to shove himself in you again, starting a slow but intense back and forth.

"God, damn it... 'Feel so good girl..." He mumbled against your skin, his arms encircling you from both sides, caging you under his tall figure.

You sighed at his praise, wanting to answer something to compliment him back, but he snapped his hips just at the same time, making you shut your eyes close, and moan louder than before. Your voice was starting to crack under the amount of pleasure he was bringing to you, hard shaft brushing this deep spot within your core every time his hips moved, hitting just right where you needed him to.

He had noticed, and it was only making him lose his mind even more, unable to keep his pace slow, letting his body unleashed. He had waited this whole night to bury himself in you, listened to this moron calling you names without having the right to punch his goddamn idiotic face. He couldn't hold anything back anymore.

He started thrusting more frantically, pistoning his cock in and out of you so fast and hard he was now fucking you onto the bed. His right hand grabbed a fistful of your ass, the feeling of it colliding with his pelvis with every thrust making him insane, the other one next to your left shoulder, preventing him from crushing you completely.

You could feel it, the familiar feeling, the divine relief, building more and more thanks to him, the pace increasing your pleasure. Feeling how impossibly hard his sex had gotten in your cunt, you knew he was close too. This simple fact was the last push to your deliverance.

"A-Arthur! God, yes!" You screamed, unable to form any coherent thoughts, existing simply for this, for this moment with him, naked on the bed of this saloon. Just you and him.

"Oh, darlin’, shit!" Your orgasm had made your walls clench even more around his dick, exploding his limit. He quickly removed himself from you, and finished at the last second on your back and ass, his burning release painting your skin in flaming spurts. His very own sinful art piece.

The room felt silent again. The air stifling from your lovemaking, the only sounds being heard were your sharp, quickened breaths. Arthur took a few seconds to collect himself, feeling better and so satisfied, almost euphoric. Turning your head to the side, you took a glimpse of your lover's gorgeous state. Hair messy, cheeks and ears crimson, sweat dripping everywhere on his skin, chest rising and falling in big, profound exhales.

He then grabbed a piece of fabric from one of the wardrobes to gently wipe off his seed from you, and tossed it away, wanting nothing more but to rest against you now. A perfect contrast, from an agitated, stormy sea to a quiet, secret cove. As if you were the only one who could see him like this, vulnerable, loving even.

You watched him lay by your side on his back, your head still feeling dizzy, slowly coming back from a world of fantasies. You snuggled against him, resting your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, feeling spent but so, so happy. And you felt the same. Still naked, skin against skin, heart beating together, just the two of you.

Tonight had been quite something, and despite having won a few thousand dollars, it was definitely not money that was making Arthur feel like he had hit the jackpot.

[genshinluvr]

Anything for the Star

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: March has a theory that the men would do anything for their precious shining star. However, you thought it was ridiculous. Due to you being skeptical about March's theory, March decides to put it to the test because those men would do anything for the star, right?

Note: I was supposed to post this yesterday/in the middle of the night, but my little brothers, my older brother, my older brother's fiancee, and I played a drinking game, and I got drunk— I'm a sleepy drunk, apparently! Hence why I wasn't able to post yesterday/in the middle of the night ;v; but fear not! Here is the update! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of

Word Count: 3.9k

Read Part 2 of Anything for the Star [HERE]!

It’s not a secret that these ten men have feelings for you. You’re not oblivious to their advances, nor are you purposefully pretending not to know about their flirtations toward you. In fact, you love it when they flirt with you. If you were good at flirting, you would flirt back, but unfortunately, you’re not a natural flirt. Sometimes your flirtiness will come out of the blue, but most of the time, they’re not present.

The door to your bedroom slides open, making you look up from your phone to see March and Himeko. “[Y/N], can you test something out for me!” March asks, entering your room with the redhead following.

“Uh, sure! What is it that you need me to do?” You ask, shutting your phone off and putting them on your nightstand. “Let me guess, you need me to convince Pom-Pom not to scold you for leaving shoe prints on the Parlor Car’s floor?” you tease.

“Hey!” March huffs loudly while Himeko giggles behind her hands. “I did not leave those shoe prints on the floor! It was Caelus that left those shoe marks!” March exclaims, glaring at you with her cheeks puffing out. 

You grin at March as you migrate toward the edge of your bed. “I’m kidding, March. So, what do you want me to test out?” You ask, hugging your knees to your chest.

March opens her mouth to respond, but the door to your bathroom opens. Nanook walks out of your bathroom with water droplets dripping down his muscular tan chest while clutching onto the towel tied around his waist. Your, Himeko, and March’s eyes widen— the two women looking away flustered.

“Nanook, we talked about this!” You whisper loudly.

Nanook chuckles, running his hands through his damp hair. “Apologies, little one. I did not expect for us to have guests,” Nanook says, walking back to the bathroom as you frantically gesture for him to go to the bathroom and put on some clothes.

You don’t mind seeing Nanook parade around your bedroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around his slim waist, low enough for you to see the silver-white hairs peeking from the towel. You clear your throat, rubbing the back of your neck to grab March and Himeko’s attention. March looks at you with horror, pointing at you and then at the bathroom.

March squeaks, “Did you… Did you and Nanook…” March trails off, her face turning bright red with realization. 

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head fiercely. “No! No, we did not! March! Get your head out of the gutter!” You shriek, grabbing the pillow behind you and chucking it at the pink-haired girl.

March catches the pillow mid-air, grinning wide with victory, and holds the pillow up in the air while laughing triumphantly. She runs toward you, jumping in the air, ready to smack you with the pillow. You scream, roll out of the way and reach for the second pillow and start whacking her with it the minute she lands on your bed. Himeko sighs, shaking her head while chuckling.

“March, are you not going to tell [Y/N] about the favor?” Himeko asks.

You and March stop your mini pillow fight and turn to look at the redhead. Himeko props her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrows at March. March gaze at Himeko with a blank expression, her mouth agape. You lean back on your elbows and watch March try to remember what favor she wants you to do for her. You stifle your laugh as March continues to stare at Himeko blankly. March groans and smacks her forehead, plopping on your bed with an exasperated sigh.

"Great! I don't remember it anymore!" March exclaims, grabbing the pillow and hitting you in the face with it.

You yelp and tumble out the bed dramatically. During your mid-fall, Dan Heng, Caelus, and Mr. Yang enter your room to see you fall out of the bed after March throws the pillow in your face. While the fall was supposed to be playful and dramatic, you ended up landing on your arm in a funny position, causing you to suck in a sharp breath and clutch your arm to your chest while lying on the ground.

"[Y/N]!" Caelus gasps, running over to you.

Dan Heng kneels beside you, helping you up from the ground by lifting you up by the waist. "Are you alright?"

Mr. Yang turns to March, giving her a disapproving look. "March, can you please be careful next time? [Y/N] got hurt," Mr. Yang scolds.

You shake your head, waving your hand to grab Caelus, Dan Heng, and Mr. Yang's attention. "No, no! It's not March's fault! I thought it'd be funny if I acted dramatic, and, as you can see, that didn't end well on my end," you grunt. 

Dan Heng helps you get up on your bed, making sure not to touch your injured arm. Your arm isn't broken. There wasn't a snap or a crack. You feel fine! Although it does feel like you slept on your arm in a weird position, causing it to be sore and ache if you were to move your arm in the slightest. 

Upon hearing the commotion, Nanook steps out of your bathroom to see the Astral Express crew crowding around you like a worried mother hen. Nanook pushes past the group and kneels beside you, placing a gentle hand on your arm and lightly touching it. You stare at Nanook with a questioning gaze, wondering what he is doing. Nanook doesn't say a word and stands up, crossing his arms over his chest and rubbing his temples.

"Uh, can you guys get me the Immortals Delight? I think it'll make me feel better," you say, not taking your eyes away from the slightly miffed Aeon of Destruction.

"Huh? Immortals Delight? Isn't that on the Xianzhou Luofu?" March asks, propping her hands on her hips. "If we get you the Immortals Delight, we will need to stop by the Xianzhou Luofu if that's the case!"

Mr. Yang clears his throat, nodding. "We were heading to the Xianzhou Luofu already. We'll stop by to grab some Immortals Delight for [Y/N] before meeting up with the General of the Xianzhou Luofu," says Mr. Yang.

You stare at Mr. Yang. Does that mean you won’t be stepping foot out of the Astral Express? Your arm is hurting, but it’s not like you injured your leg and can’t walk. As much as you want to question them, you decide not to. Caelus, Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, March, and Himeko walk out of your room. Before March leaves your room, she stops and jogs back to where you lie. You and Nanook gaze at March quizzically as she plops on the edge of your bed.

"My favor is for you to test out my theory," March says ominously, nodding.

You blink at the pink-haired girl. "And what is that theory of yours? I am all ears!" you say, propping your head on the wrong arm, making you wince in pain.

March squeals, clapping her hands, and skips toward your bed. Nanook helps you sit up, letting you use him as a cushion. March gazes at Nanook, a little hesitant to let Nanook hear her theory. Still, she decides to let it slide for the Aeon of Destruction. March doesn't need you to test her theory out on the Aeon of Destruction when it's already evident that he would do anything for you. The entire time, while March tells you and Nanook (mainly you, she's ignoring Nanook) her theory, you can't help but be skeptical.

"I don't think your theory is going to need testing," Nanook interjects, crossing his arms over his chest.

March sputters, glaring at the Aeon. "And why is that? Is it because you don't want to see men bend to [Y/N]'s will?" March demands, propping her hands on her hips while jutting her hip out.

You clear your throat to break the tension between your best friend and your... Aeon. You have yet to give Nanook a title. You weren't sure if you should call him your friend or your lover because you and Nanook had yet to kiss in person. You wouldn't include the steamy dream/interaction you had with the Aeon a while ago, but regardless, you have yet to give him a title. His calling you his little one or star isn't a relationship title.

"We can test this theory of yours out, March. However, if it's simple requests such as getting me Immortals Delight at the Xianzhou Luofu, it does not count," you say.

March opens her mouth to protest but closes them after seeing the look on your face. It would be best if you were staying in the comfort of your room, but you had Nanook carry you to the Parlor Car to test your theory out. According to March, the heater in the Parlor Car is broken and has yet to be fixed. Since you're wearing shorts and a T-shirt, you're going to see if someone is going to be willing to give their jacket up for you. Or, instead of a jacket, they'll get you a blanket to keep you warm.

"I don't see the need in doing this when I can keep my little one warm without an issue," Nanook grumbles, sitting beside you on the couch in the Parlor Car.

March scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Oh, I know you will do anything for your little star. I want to see how whipped these men are for [Y/N]," March comments.

On cue, Caelus, Dan Heng, and Mr. Yang walk into the Parlor Car with Immortals Delight in their hands. That's right, their hands. There are three Immortals Delight just for you and only you. Your eyes widen, and a huge smile stretches across your face. The three men approach you, Nanook and March before simultaneously holding the Immortals Delight toward you. Oh boy, oh boy! Plenty for you to drink and get a sugar rush of a lifetime!

March makes a face. "I don't think [Y/N] should be drinking that much Immortals Delight," March says with uncertainty. cocking her head to the side.

Caelus shrugs. "Hey, they didn't say how many Immortals Delight they wanted, now, did they?" Caelus asks, cocking an eyebrow at March and handing the drink to you.

You grab the Immortals Delight and hum happily after taking multiple sips of the sweet beverage. Mr. Yang and Dan Heng place the other two Immortals Delight on the table before you. You involuntarily shiver, putting the cup on the table and rubbing your hands together,

"Are you cold? Here, take my coat," Dan Heng says, taking his jacket off and draping them over your shoulders before you could protest.

March turns toward you with a knowing look while Nanook sighs, rolling his eyes. You're immediately engulfed in warmth. You sigh with contentment, grab the Immortals Delight from the table, and continue sipping the sweet beverage. You chew and swallow the boba, turning to Nanook and holding the cup toward him. 

Nanook gazes at the cup and at you. You stare at him curiously, silently asking the Aeon of Destruction if he wants a sip of Immortals Delight.

Nanook sighs, leaning toward the straw, and sips from the same straw. Being the dramatic person that she is, March gasps loudly, covers her hand with one hand, and points at you and Nanook with the other. You, Caelus, Nanook, Dan Heng, and Mr. Yang look at March questionably.

"Why did you gasp like that?" You mutter, scooting close to Nanook as the Aeon of Destruction continues to sip the Immortals Delight and chew on the tapioca pearls.

March giggles behind her hand, shrugging. "I find it cute how you and Nanook practically had an indirect kiss with one another by sharing straws," March says, feigning innocence.

Oh, you see what March is doing. She's trying to set Caelus, Mr. Yang, and Dan Heng off by mentioning the sharing of the straws between you and Nanook.

Or, at least, that's what you're assuming March is trying to do. The doors to the Astral Express open and enter the three men of the Xianzhou Luofu and the three men from Jarilo-VI. You yawn and rub your eyes, sleepiness overcoming you.

"Hello! Welcome to the Astral Express! Is there anything we can assist you with?" You ask, taking another large sip of the Immortals Delight.

Luocha walks toward you, standing beside the table that holds the other two Immortals Delight. "I was informed to check on your arm. Mr. Yang informed me you injured yourself," Luocha replies, sitting beside you.

Huh? Mr. Yang secretly contacted the Xianzhou Luofu? More importantly, he reached out to Luocha about your somewhat injured arm? Personally, you don't think you hurt your arm. Yes, you landed on your arm when you were trying to be dramatic, but the pain should go away within a few days. At least, that's what you're hoping.

"May I check your arm?" Luocha murmurs, holding his hand out.

You sigh and shake Dan Heng's jacket off your shoulders, handing them back to the black-haired man. You extend your arm and let the long, blond-haired man gently caress your arm and begin feeling around your arm. When he squeezes your elbow, you hiss and squeeze your eyes shut.

"There's a faint bruise forming on your arm. Are you sure it was a light tumble?" Luocha asks, turning to look at Mr. Yang.

"It wasn't a bad fall! I didn't hear a snap or a crack," you say, frowning at Luocha. 

You shiver and rub your arm. The Parlor Car is colder than you thought it was, and you're not sure if it's because you drank a cold beverage or if the temperature has dropped even more. Luocha continues where he left off— healing your minor arm injury.

Blade stands over you and Luocha, gazing at your arm. "It's a relief you didn't give yourself tendinitis. If you did manage to do that, you'd need physical therapy, medication to reduce the pain, and you're now allowed to use your arm as often," Blade murmurs.

You sigh in relief. Thank the Aeons, you didn't give yourself tendinitis. You wouldn't know what else to do if you had it! From how Blade described it, it sounds like a burden and torture. Imagine not being able to do certain tasks without putting yourself through immense pain. 

"It's really cold in here. When is the heater going to be fixed?" You mutter, shivering in your seat.

Blade sits between you and Nanook, ignoring the death glare shot in his direction by the Aeon of Destruction. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you toward his chest. You rest your head on Blade's shoulders, shivering in his arms. 

Blade presses his lips to the side of your head. "I'll keep you warm for the time being," Blade murmurs.

March clears her throat. "We're not sure when exactly, but it should be fixed soon. It looks like you'll need someone to keep you warm until the heater is fixed," March winks at you.

You hum, closing your eyes. You're supposed to test out March's theory, and yet you're having slight issues with this so-called test. First of all, you didn't want to hurt Nanook's feelings if you continued to test the theory out for March. While Nanook hasn't said anything about the test other than glaring at the men that approach you and are handsy with you— and by handsy, you mean them hugging you and lightly brushing their hands against you.

Besides, even if these men are willing to do things as you say, you don't think it's solid proof that they would do anything for you. That is what you told March after the Immortals Delight and Blade letting you cuddle him on the Astral Express situation. And now here you are, sitting in your bedroom with March standing before you, looking like she's about to burst out laughing.

"What are you up to?" You ask, tapping your fingers on your legs anxiously.

March giggles. "Oh, it's nothing, really! Are you ready for your surprise?" March asks, clapping her hands with excitement.

You did not know what March had in mind for the surprise, but you're very curious because of the way she's acting. One minute you were in the Parlor Car, relaxing and hanging out with Himeko and Pom-Pom. The next, March is dragging you to your bedroom after asking you to follow her to your room for a surprise. March never mentioned anything to you, and the sudden secret surprise is making you wary of what's going to happen. The words ‘March’ and ‘surprise’ don't go well together— especially if this surprise is for you.

"Ready as I'll ever be!" You say, mentally preparing for what's to come.

March claps her hands happily. "Alright! Boys, come on out!" March announces, turning toward your bathroom.

The bathroom door opens, and lo and behold, the ten men walk into your room, their faces crimson red. Your eyes widen, and you look at March, baffled. March grins widely and nods, silently laughing while clutching her side. You cover your mouth and close your eyes, trying your best to keep your composure.

You clear your throat, opening your eyes. "How did you convince them to wear maid dresses? And where did you get the maid costumes?" You ask, turning to March.

Panic flashes across March's face. "Oh! Uh! [Y/N], did you not remember?! You told me you wanted to see these men in maid costumes because you believe they will look good in it!" Mach lies, giving you a fake smile.

You stare at the pink-haired girl with your mouth agape. Guess this is your cue to go with whatever March is lying about. 

You nod slowly. "And you guys did it willingly?" You ask, turning to look at the flustered men.

"March 7th said this was your wish, and who are we to turn down your wishes?" Jing Yuan asks, pulling down the too-short skirt. "I hope seeing us in this costume makes you happy." Jing Yuan blushes.

Does it make you happy? Seeing the ten men in maid costumes with skirts that are almost too short? The very same maid costume that is hugging them around the torso, making their muscles bulge under the dress, a garter wrapping around their thick, muscular thighs, biceps flexing with the slightest movement. Dear, Aeons. You nod and gulp, rubbing the back of your neck.

"I mean, sure! Dear, Aeons. I didn't think you guys would look so good in maid costumes," you squeak, nearly choking on your saliva.

Luka steps forward, flexing his biceps and running his prosthetic hand through his luscious hair. "I'm glad you wanted us to wear this, cutie patootie! I look good in this outfit," Luka says, smirking and flexing his biceps for you. "Do you want to feel my muscles?" Luka winks at you.

You stare at Luka, mouth agape. Fuck, do you want to feel Luka's bulging biceps? March notices your hesitation before nodding for you. March nudges you forward, making you stumble forward. You collect yourself as Luka stands before you, smiling down at you. He brushes your hair from your face and stifles his laugh when he feels the heat radiating from your face. You glare at Luka and reach forward with your eyes closed. You place your hand on Luka's bulging biceps, feeling him flex his bicep beneath your hand.

"Holy fuck, he's huge," you whisper to yourself.

You clear your throat for the umpteenth time before pulling your hand away from Luka's biceps, face hotter than it already was. Luka steps back with a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest with an amused smile. Sampo and Gepard then step forward, their arms over their chests. The apples of Gepard's cheek and his ears are almost as red as Himeko's hair, while Sampo looks eager— he has a wide smile on his face, and his cheeks and the tip of his ears are almost as pink as March's hair. 

You stare at the blond man and indigo-haired man skeptically, gnawing on the inside of your cheek. What are these two men up to, and why do they look eager yet shy? You narrow your eyes at them before turning to the pink-haired girl behind you. She grins at you and waves eagerly. You gesture for them to give you a moment before walking over to March, pulling her to the corner of your room. 

You hiss through clenched jaws, "March, what did you do?" 

March bats her eyelashes at you, swaying side to side. "What? I did nothing at all!" March says, crossing her arms over her chest. "Plus, don't you remember that we're testing out my theory?"

You grumble under your breath and push past the pink-haired girl, walking to Gepard and Sampo— feeling a sense of dread falling over you. March is up to something, and you're nervous to see what they have in store for you.

"What did March tell you two?" You ask weakly.

Sampo props his hands on his hips, making sure to flex his biceps. "March 7th informed us about how you wish to be squished between our chests," Sampo announces for everyone to hear.

Dan Heng, Caelus, Mr. Yang, Blade, Luka, Jing Yuan, Luocha, and Nanook raise their eyebrows at Sampo’s comment. Gepard sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and nodding. You purse your lips and nod slowly. So this is what March refuses to tell you about. 

"Come here, Gumdrop. Get into my arms, and we shall make your dreams come true," Sampo purrs, making the come here motion with his index and middle finger. 

You make a dramatic sniffle before waddling over to Sampo. Sampo wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest and kissing the top of your head while ignoring the glare Nanook shot in his direction. 

Gepard clears his throat. "March also informs us that you wanted to be sandwiched between us for approximately ten minutes," says Gepard.

"Ten? I recalled thirty minutes!" March huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

You scoff. "Gepard, Sampo, and I are not going to be standing for thirty minutes!" You exclaim, glaring at the pink-haired girl.

March glares at you and gestures for Sampo and Gepard to step close to each other until you're pressing up against their chest. Sampo releases you and has you stand between him and Gepard. The two men walk toward you until you're squished between the two men. Their beefy pecks press up against your cheeks. Just when you thought your face couldn't be any hotter, you stand corrected.

"This is what you wanted. I don't understand how you're so shy about it," Gepard murmurs, wrapping his beefy arms around your waist before rubbing your hip bone with his thumb.

You sputter, "Well when it's being done in front of nine other people."

You feel something drip from your nose. You sniffle, reaching up and touching the liquid dripping from your nose. You look at your fingers to see crimson red. Oh, fuck. You're bleeding. 

"Huh," you mutter.

Nanook steps forward, gazing at you, worried. "Little one, what happened?" Nanook asks worriedly.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your world turns black. The last thing you heard was everyone gasping and screaming your name. Note to self: Do not test March's theory if it involves the men, or else she will take advantage of it and fluster you as much as she can.

Note: Man, this took me a while to type this out because I have many distractions around me. Writing fanfiction during a family vacation is no joke because they will do anything to distract you and pull you away from the laptop ;v; While I posted this fic at 10 PM PST, it's posted at midnight where I'm currently vacationing at. Uh, this will be labeled as published on July 22nd and July 23rd on my new Masterlist (I linked both Masterlists down below ^^) To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for the HSR one-shot series: @ashwasherelol, @mompt2, @elegantnightblaze, @lunavixia, @jadedist, @reversearrowhead, @pinksaiyans, @n8mareee, @aurelia-xyt, @ssunset0, @starrry-angel, @kaoyamamegami, @kodzuvk, @for3very0urs, @a-cosmicdawn, @g3n0dtt, @theblades, @wntrsblvd, @raaawwwr, @immahuman, @irisxiel, @siaracarroll, @crazydreamcat, @sen-nes, @sagekun, @orichalcumthief, @dyingsweetmackerel, @rosiesareblue, @ichikanu, @undecidingfate (Accounts that I was unable to tag are not tagged in this fic. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[stvolanis]

BIRTHDAY BOY

(one shot)

PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x wife! Reader

WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff! Not proofread, clingy reader, no use of y/n, slight angst (Elvis thinks reader forgot his birthday), surprise party, kissing, pet names, the Memphis mafia been goofballs

NSFW WARNINGS: p in v sex, oral (m receiving), slight ball play ig?, light choking, hair pulling, daddy kink (duhh), cream pie, breeding kink, lingerie

sorry if I missed anything!! And happy birthday to the king of rock n’ roll<3

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

The entire day you and Elvis’ Memphis mafia have been planning is birthday party. His dad even started helping out.

It was going to be spectacular. You’d ordered a large 5 layered cake with buttercream frosting and strawberries, and written on top in cursive was ‘long live the king’ with a little 25 under it.

The house was decorated in head to toe with gold and white streamers, balloons, confetti, and any other kind of decor you could imagine fit for the king of rock n’ roll.

Elvis Presley had been gone for a week, taking on an acting gig in Florida, Miami. You missed him dearly, but you knew he was coming home today. Every time he called one of the house phones who would always chat your ear off on how much he wanted to see you. You’d think he had separation anxiety (he does).

The warmth of his voice on the line brought endless smiles to your face, and his amazing voice made giggles erupt from your throat. Everything about him shined, inside and out. He was beautiful, and a very charismatic man.

He had a certain feel about him. In a way where everyone would stop what they were doing just to catch a glimpse of him. He could hold an entire rooms attention and keep it, and sometimes he didn’t even realize it. People looked at him as if he were a god, and hell, maybe he was.

Elvis was a giving man. If you knew him, then you’d know that he shined so bright, he made the people around him shine, too. And to Elvis, you shined the most. He adored you. Every little thing about you was imperfectly perfect to him in just the right ways.

Elvis was a good husband, despite what people in the press have said. He takes care of you more than he takes care of himself, and he does it with a smile on his face and love in his heart that he only holds for you.

Elvis always told you that you were his angel. You were sent by the heavens to watch over him, guide him and love him for all he is after his mother died. You healed him and changed a broken, distraught man into the brightest star.

But you knew it was the other way around.

You found each other in a hopeless state, but together you overcame it and helped each other. Elvis was always kind to you, even if you two had petty little arguments, he’d always make it up to you by showering you in kisses with little ‘I’m sorrys’. How could you not forgive him when he was the sweetest man you’d ever met?

He remembered every anniversary. Every birthday. Every Valentine’s Day. He showered you in gifts, attention, dates, and never shut up about you in the press. You were sure interviews were sick and tired of him ranting on about how ‘good of a wife’ you are like a lovesick puppy, but it filled you with butterflies knowing he held you in such high regards.

Elvis was your person, and you were his. You’d known that since the day you met, and the day he popped the big question on a Thursday night in Hawaii confirmed it. It’s been bliss since you’d known him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But now, you sat nervously on the couch, biting down on your manicured nails nervously.

You hadn’t answered any of the 4 times Elvis has called you, and you knew he’d be worried by now. It was his birthday, and you felt bad because you didn’t want to upset him—but the surprise will be all worth it.

You wore his favorite outfit. A light blue, low cut dress that ended mid thigh, paired with black marry janes and white socks that sat a few inches below your knees. You also wore a white pearl necklace that acted as a light choker, and to top it all off, a silver chain sat secured gracefully on your neck that read ‘E.P’. A beautiful necklace your lover gifted to you for your 2nd anniversary.

But you wore a secret under your pretty little dress that Elvis would surely adore later tonight.

“Everyone, I just got word that Elvis is down the road, get in your places!” Gunner, a mutual friend of you and Elvis, shouted. You quickly took your place around the corner from the door, so you could be the first person he sees when he walks through the large entrance.

The lights were turned off and the room was silent as you heard booming footsteps come up the familiar stairs of Gracelands’ entrance.

You sucked in a breath of air as the door swung open, and you could already feel his suffocating presence in the house.

“Baby?! Where ya at?!” He yelled out, his voice laced with concern as he began to move towards the stairs, assuming you were in your shared bedroom. You giggled a little, and Elvis’ head snapped to your direction. You’d been caught.

“Surprise! Happy birthday, honey!” You yelled out, along with everyone else. Elvis let out a breath of air he’d been holding in for what felt like all day. No matter how many times he’s left home, weeks on end, you’d never gone not one day without calling him and tellin’ him all about your boring day without him around.

He drug a hand down his face with a groan, followed by a deep chuckle as your body collided with his in a tight hug. He kissed the top of your head, and finally, you’d felt his arms around you again. And it’s was as if all of his love visibly seeped into you.

“Was so worried, satin. Thought somethin’ bad happened to ya.” He huffed out with furrowed brows. You laughed as you cupped his face in your dainty hands. “Nothin’ bad happened, Elvis. Just wanted to give you a lil surprise is all.” You muttered as you brought his face down to your level, giving him the tenderest of kisses.

You tasted like vanilla on his tongue, mixed with cherry from the cherry lollipop you always had in your mouth. Elvis wasn’t sure how you hadn’t gotten a cavity from it yet. Your hair smelled like fresh rose water, and he knew it was from your annual bath-soakings full of the best rose petals money can buy and scented bath bombs.

You were warm against him, your small body molding and fitting perfectly against him. He loved you. God, did he love you. His baby. His love. His wife. The woman he plans to bear his children. He couldn’t get enough of you

“I got you a cake, Elvis.” You smiled up at him. You were the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Your smile was contagious to him, as he felt a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, lemme see it, baby.” He said.

You clapped your hands together, exited to see his reaction of the large cake, decorated to perfection. You took his large hand in yours and dragged him to where everyone else was in the dining room. On the table sat the cake, and Elvis felt his eyes widen at the mere heigh of it.

“Woah, that’s a lot of sugar, honey.” He chuckled out as he walked closer to take a good look. “Look at the top, El.” You urged. Like a good husband, he obliged and a chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“I love it, baby.” He said as he walked over and tightly hugged you, slightly lifting you off the ground in the process. “I’m glad! I hoped you would.” You said happily.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before the Memphis mafia swept him away from you. “Sharing is caring!” They yelled with loud boyish chuckles as they went to the pool room. Elvis mounted an ‘im sorry’, to which you merely giggled.

All throughout the night Elvis was occupied with his family and friends celebrating. You knew you shouldn’t, but you had to admit that you felt kind of neglected. In more ways than one.

He’d looked so unbelievably handsome all night, and you couldn’t help but become all hot and bothered as the night continued. You watched him play pool with his friends, his arms were exposed and fit. Elvis was no muscle maniac, but he had just the right amount for your mouth to start watering like a bitch in heat at the sight.

You finally built up enough courage to speak up about it as you walked over to where he stood in all his glory. His back was now facing you as you lightly gripped his arm to grab his attention, making him spin around to look at you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, his accent thick. You grew shy as his friends grazed in on the interaction, being nosy. You chewed on the bottom of your lip, and Elvis understood as he slightly leaned down is you could whisper into his ear. “M horny, Elvis.” You muttered, barely just loud enough for him to hear.

Elvis lightly hummed. “S that right?” He asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “Alright, don’t worry, sugar, I’ll take care of ya.” He stated.

“I’m done for the night, fellas.” He said as he tangled his fingers with yours, pulling you away from the group of men. They whistled knowingly, followed by a few hollers, making your cheeks flush red and bury yourself in Elvis’ side. He chuckled as his arm wrapped around you, walking up the stairs to your shared room.

He opened the door for you and flicked the lamp light on. “I got another surprise for you.” You muttered, shy under his gaze. He peered down at you. “Yeah? What is it, baby?” He asked, his breathing heavy.

You began to slide your dress off of your shoulders, below your breasts and down your hips before letting it fall to the floor beneath you. Elvis’ mouth watered at the sight and he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably, his slacks suddenly becoming too tight in his crotch area.

There you stood, in a baby pink lingerie set. Floral and lacy, nipples and pussy barely covered by flimsy fabric. Your thighs covered in garters with little pink flowers embroidered onto them delicately. What made Elvis go over the edge though, is when you turned around to show him your perky ass.

In cursive, sat nice and pretty was ‘Elvis Presley’.

He felt like he could cum in his pants right then and there.

“D-do you like it?” You asked, nervous at his silence. He scoffed. “Like it? Baby, i fuckin’ love it.” He said, spinning your around to face him before sliding his hands past your waist, down to your ass, tightly squeezing both of your ass cheeks.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. “Yeah?” You whispered as his leaned down. “Fuck yes.” He muttered before his lips crashed down onto yours in a heated kiss.

It was sloppy as your tongues tangled with each other, you fighting for some kind of dominance that you knew Elvis wouldn’t allow. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him groan, biting your lip in retaliation. His hands squeezing the fat of your ass tighter, gripping you impossibly closer to him.

“Let me make you feel good, Elvis.” You breathed out against his lips. He merely clicked his tongue. “Hm?” He asked again. Your legs rubbed together, slick coating both of your inner thighs.

“Please let me make you feel good, daddy.” You repeated, more desperately this time. He groaned in satisfaction. “Good girl, go ahead, baby.” He urged.

You dropped to your knees and watched as he unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to the floor. You licked your lips at the sight of his leaking cock, standing hard and ready for you in any way you can take him. He was long and girthy, balls hung, seemingly painfully full. Your core ached to relieve him.

You licked around his tip before licking his slit that leaked slaty pre-cum, and his hiss was enough for you to suck his tip into your mouth. “Fuck!” He yelped out as you sucked harshly, before taking him deeper into your mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down, your hands reaching to fondle his aching balls. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was giving mind blowing, other worldly head. Your little mouth drove Elvis beyond crazy, wether it be for talking shit or having his cock in it.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you effortlessly deep throated his cock, and you felt him throb in your mouth. You gagged around him, making him throw his head back and let out a desperate moan.

“Yess, fuck! Just like that, honey. Suckin’ your husbands cock so well. Takin’ such good care of me.” He breathed out. You knew he was about to cum as his fingers found their way in your large hair, gripping tightly. “M gonna cum, baby. Shit.” He moaned out.

Your mouth moved to suck one of his balls into your mouth and your hand moved quickly to stroke his needy cock. Your hand moved fast, your fist tight around him. It was all too much, the way your mouth sucked his balls in like a vacuum and your hand stroking his hand at a quickening pace.

His cum spurted from his cock, and your mouth shot up just in time to get it in your mouth. You sucked his tip, milking him of all the cum he had stored away in his heavy balls. “Holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ good, soso good f’me.” He said, mouth hung agape as you released his tip with a loud ‘pop’.

You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show him the cum that rested on your tongue. He licked his lips and felt his cock harden again. “Swallow.” He said. And like the good little wife you are, you listened..

“Good girl. Now, getcha’ lil ass on the bed n’ bend over f’daddy.” He said as he helped you to your feet, slapping your ass playfully as you passed by him to the bed, making you giggle.

You bent over, legs spread enough so he could see the thin string covering your pussy that was now a darker shade of pink from your juices. “Look at you, all nice n pretty. All this for me, sweetheart?” He asked as he slipped the thin string to the side.

You nodded your head feverishly. “Yes, daddy. M’only wet f’you.” You muttered as you teased your ass into the air, pushing it towards him. He swatted your asses harshly, once, twice, before he lined himself to your entrance.

He teased his tip into you, making you groan. “Please, please, please—“ you chanted like it was a prayer. His hand snapped to your hair, leaning your head back. “You take what I give you, wife.” He muttered as he tenderly kissed your forehead.

“Yes, daddy, m’sorry.” You muttered out, gasping as you felt his cock enter you without warning. His tip kissed your cervix, and your mouth hung open, throat going dry. “Shit, so tight. Grippin’ my cock so good.” He huffed out.

“E-Elvis!” You whimpered out, the sting making your eyes water. His heart ached at the sound of you in any kind of pain. He peppered sweet kisses along your spine and on your shoulders in reassurance. “S okay, m’ gon’ take care of ya, don’t worry.” He whispered into your hair as he kissed your head.

Your stomach felt like it was doing summer salts and butterflies exploding in it all at once. You loved him more than words could ever describe and nothing in the world would ever change the way he made you feel, even 5 years deep into marriage, he still makes you fall in love with him all over again.

A wave of pleasure consumed you as you felt him re-enter you, picking up his pace at pounding into your throbbing cunt. “Elvis! Fuck! Just like that!” You moaned out.

Every time his hips slammed into yours, you released little ‘ahs’. The sound was like music to his ears. Knowing he was making you feel good, made him feel at least 20x better. If there was one thing he took pride in, it was pleasing his woman in every way he could.

“Gonna fill this lil pussy, you want that? Hm? Want me to fill you with my babies?” He asked, his hands gripped your hips. “Yes, yes, please! Need your cum in me, daddy!” You groaned.

He pulled out of you, flipping you around before re-entering you. “Wanna see you when we cum, yeah? Gon’ see ya beautiful fuckin’ face, honey.” He moaned out as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

He was pussy drunken and his mind was fuzzy as your walls squeezed him in a vice grip. He didn’t know how much longer he would last. “Daddy! M’gonna cum, fuck m’gonna cum!” Your voice high pitched, and your head thrown back. Elvis brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing your throat just enough to make you see stars when it was paired with his piercing cock.

“Need you.” You whimpered out, grabbing at his free hand. A thing you did that Elvis thought was the cutest thing, and adored so much, was that every time you came on his cock, you made sure to hold his hand. It comforted you and Elvis loved it as he reached his high. “I’m right here, satin. Gon’ fill this cunt.” He said, biting his lip.

“Oh!” You moaned out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, covering Elvis’ lower abdomen in your vile juices just as he painted the inside of your walls white with his seed.

He fucked you through your orgasm, and you could feel each time his cock spurted out a new round of cum inside of you. His balls tightening as your sweet pussy milked him, and all he could think about was how nice and round you’ll be with his babies. The perfect wife.

Your hand reached up to lovingly cup his face, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his bitten lips.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

tag list: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts

[pinkkittysaw]

HUNGRY LIKE THE WOLF

title is based off the song hungry like the wolf by duran duran

halloween night of horrors masterlist can be found here!

pairing: werewolf clive rosfield x f!reader

summary: your lover always disappears on the night of a full moon every month and you’re determined to figure out why

word count: 8,331 (don’t perceive me 🫣)

content: NSFW (minors + ageless blogs DNI you will be blocked) minor plot spoilers, monsterfucking, teratophilia, knotting, blood, choking, established relationship, slight dumbification, minor breast/nipple play, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink, manhandling, belly bulge/pushing, spit, slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, scent kink, scratching, biting, one spank, hints of degradation, praise, pet names (sweetheart, darling, love) reader is wearing a dress

* i want to give a BIG thank you to @strawberrystepmom for answering all my anatomical questions and helping me through my writing process! she also has a werewolf fic of her own if you want to check it out ^_^

a/n: AND I LASTED TEN ROUNDS LIKE A FREAKKKKK LIKE A GGGGGGGGG. this was inspired by the beach scene with clive and jill, iykyk. I WILL NEVER BE NORMAL AGAIN THANKS TO THEM!!truly did not expect this to get as long as it did but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

recommended listening for this fic is MONSTER by lady gaga

divider by @/benkeibear

Waves crash at your toes from where you stand on the shoreline, and the fire you made from scattered kindling on the rocky beach crackles in the background, its golden flame shining bright against the navy blue sky.

You sigh, staring into the dark ether, hoping and praying for an answer to your troubles. The cold water laps at your feet, manifesting a shiver in your spine that flows throughout the rest of your body. Grumbling, you glare back at Metia and the full moon with disdain, acting as if the two of them were in cahoots with each other, taunting you. You huff, shoving your arms to your sides with clenched fists as you continue to bitch, arguing with the moon and stars above.

"You're not even going to help me? Even though you're the cause of all this?"

Your index finger is shoved into the sky, pointing directly at the hunk of rock that floats within it, and it's not long after that gust of wind blows through you, billowing through the skirt of your pale dress, causing it to fly in right your face, a protest of sorts in response to the little tantrum you were throwing.

You fold the fabric back down onto your legs, holding its hem while letting out a snide, "Well, I hope the two of you are enjoying yourselves," before you turn your back in defiance and slosh through the ankle-deep water toward the fire, choosing to settle down on your bed roll for the night.

You shouldn't be surprised. All your prayers turned out to be for naught; it'd be foolish to think that this time would be any different.

You pout and pull your knees to your chest, settling your cheeks on the joints of your legs as you stare into the fiery embers, the sand scratching the skin between your toes as they curl into the seashore. You had long since forgone your sandals, as keeping the granules out of the material proved to be a losing battle.

"This was such a foolish idea," you mutter to yourself, choosing to reflect on the actions that brought you here.

You and Clive had been courting for several months now, and in that time you began to notice a particular pattern he developed. During the three days surrounding every full moon, he always disappeared without a trace, unable to be found anywhere in the hideaway.

It wasn't uncommon for Clive to be away from the hideout; if anything, he was probably away from it more than he wasn't, always coming to someone's aid. As long as they roamed the lands of Valisthea, he'd be there.

But after three separate occurrences of him disappearing around the same set of circumstances, it began to look less and less like a coincidence and more like a habit. The first two times he "vanished," you had attributed the cause to "business as usual," assuming he was off assisting the curse breakers or aiding in the transportation of recently freed bearers, but the longer the two of you stayed together, the more prominent his disappearances became. 

You had confronted him about it once, apprehensively inquiring if he had taken on another lover during his time away. You heard the tale of his time in North Reach before he, Cid, and Jill eventually set their sights on destroying Drake's head. Maybe he'd found a courtesan at The Veil on his returning trip to Sanbreque after word of Isabelle needing his assistance came in.

He immediately shot the notion down, sympathizing with your cause of concern. He reassured you that you were the only one for him, and you believed him, of course. He's been nothing but loyal and devoted to you throughout your whole relationship so far. Even Jill stepped in and vouched for him at one point, stating that "cheating was far beneath him" and that he "treasured you more than anything else in the realm."

Yet he still didn't do much in providing an actual explanation for where he was going, stumbling through an excuse about the Mothercrystals and needing to stay away for your protection, but the risks of danger hadn't stopped him from brainstorming strategies with you before, so why now all of a sudden was he coddling you like a child? If not a secret lover, then what else could be hiding from you? Not even the collection of books residing in the Shelves provided an answer as to why your lover would disappear for three days time every full moon.

The longer this went on, the more you assumed everyone was just taking the piss out of you. Sure, most people in the hideaway were often busy with their own assignments, but you couldn't have been the only person who noticed a similar pattern of behavior, right?

You took to asking people around the hideout if they noticed a change in Clive's demeanor, with most of them stating that he'd been acting as he usually would, nothing out of the ordinary, while some others, mainly Tarja, thought it'd be funny to get a bit cheeky with you, commenting, "Wouldn't you be the one to notice if he was behaving strangely?" She means no real offense, so you try your best not to get frustrated with the more empty answers you're handed. It wasn't their fault that your lover was so cagey about his whereabouts. It's not like they were his keeper, as he was the one everyone answered to. You even took to inquiring Otto about it, though it didn't prove to be any more fruitful as he spat out the same Mothercrystals excuse as Clive did.

Your last and final hope was Jill. She had known Clive the longest—since they were children; if anyone were to have insight on what was going on with him, it'd be her, but you're met with similar responses as Clive and Otto. An apprehensive look crossed her features when you asked her if she knew why Clive was disappearing each month or where he went. She simply shrugged her shoulders, shook her head, and stated that she hadn't noticed anything strange going on with him, which only proved to make you more suspicious. 

Having had enough of the unanswered questions, you decided that the (not-so) smartest thing to do would be to take a little trip during the week of the full moon and not tell anyone. Was it a bit selfish? Desperate? Yes, but you rationalized that if you disappeared during that time, Clive would have no choice but to come out of hiding and look for you, thus leaving you free to discuss his whereabouts. It definitely wasn't the most well-thought-out plan you've ever come up with, but the lack of transparency was beginning to drive you mad.

The next few weeks were spent making preparations for the trip ahead in secret, taking on extra assignments to save up gil so you could spend a few nights at an inn. The night before your departure, you decided to take on all outstanding alliant reports on the bulletin while everyone was asleep so that you could circumvent a scolding from Otto about skipping out on your duties when you returned.

Early to rise the next morning, you gather a small pack of your belongings and shuffle off toward the pier before Clive awoke, careful to slip from his gentle embrace so as to not rouse him from his slumber. You glance down at his sleeping face, taking in how peaceful he looked while resting.

You gather your pack and make your way toward the boats. The sunrise on the open water is a stark contrast to the scowl that Obolus greets you with so early in the day.

"Good morning!" You beam, your smile shining brightly in his direction, as you carefully step onto the ferry.

"Someone's rather chipper this morning," he snickers, preparing to set sail in the blighted waters.

"You could say that," you respond, taking your seat on the wooden boards as the vessel starts to bob in the water and glancing back as the hideaway comes to life, everyone beginning to start their day.

When choosing a destination for this little excursion, you soon realized that there was only one correct choice, so you set your sights on Rosaria, having expressed wanting to return there to Clive before, so if he truly knew you as well as he claimed, he'd have no trouble finding you.

The majority of your time was spent at Martha's Rest, helping her out with the ever-growing cray claw population that seemed to be terrorizing most merchants traveling in the area. It was peaceful, with most nights spent exchanging tales with the locals over pints of ale.

On the day before the full moon, Martha half-joked about keeping you stationed with her, finding your company to be most pleasant, and though you couldn't make any promises, you assured her that you would stop by whenever time allowed.

It was only on the night of the full moon itself that you decided to take to the sea. The salty air and crash of the waves gave you a sense of tranquility unlike any other. It was almost as if you could sit back and forget all the horrors of the world around you.

As you draw swirl patterns into the sand with your finger, you begin to wonder if Clive will ever find you. Maybe he never even realized you were gone, and you'd be forced to return home with your tail between your legs, not having gotten any closer to the answers you so desired.

Unbeknownst to you, though, Clive was actively on the hunt, having noticed your disappearance shortly after your departure that morning. The space beside him in bed was cold and empty when he awoke. Though confused, he didn't think much of it; sometimes people are being sent away as reinforcements without much notice.

His day went pretty much the same as normal, though an underlying discomfort lay deep within him, wishing to share details of upcoming plans with you but being unable to.

It's not until you don't return that evening that he begins to get antsy. Deciding that he doesn't want to come across as overly possessive, he manages to hold his tongue, only voicing his concerns about your absence that night at the ale hall during supper, his dining mates recounting that they haven't seen you but to "not fret as you were probably just sent away on an overnight assignment."

He nods, taking some solace in their words as he sips from his mug, washing down the food. They were probably right; you were just off helping someone somewhere, but knowing that doesn't make his restless nights go by any easier, leaving him to toss and turn in his sleep without you.

It's not til three days go by without so much as a whisper of your whereabouts that he decides to go looking for you, finding one of your undershirts and stuffing the material into the pouch on the back of his belt. He goes out in search of Otto, hoping to find some information in regard to your whereabouts, but it's when he comes up empty in regard to your station that he really starts to panic. He informs the elder man that he'll be out for an unspecified amount of time and to make sure all missives are delivered to his desk upon his return, then storms off to the pier with a look something fierce in his eyes as he demands Obolus take him to where you disembarked. Obolus, not wanting to argue with a clearly pissed-off Clive, rows him to the destination.

You're distracted from your wallowing upon hearing a shrill howl in the distance. Quick to refocus, you swivel your head back and forth in all directions to try and determine the location of the sound. That's when you see it—a dark figure perched upon one of the nearby cliffs. The midnight sky shrouds the size and shape of the creature, though its piercing azure eyes remain distinct amongst the sea of black, piercing right through you from the tall height. 

Just as quickly as you make eye contact with the creature, it lurches from its spot on the cliff, prowling toward you like a predator honing in on its next meal, sniffing as if it smells your fear and your very blood running cold. Only when it's within range of the fire's flame are you able to tell what lingers in the dark. A wolf. Its fur is as dark as a raven's feather, black like soot, and much different from the standard mix of greys and whites of the usual worgens. Rosaria was no stranger to wolves, but they were never of this magnitude; its body was almost double the size of the usual stray. You're confused as to what it was doing so far out from the greenery; was this a newly created breed? Made solely for the purpose of hunting lost damsels wandering the coast at night?

As it draws near, you're unable to look away, its eyes drawing you into a trance, captivating yet familiar, almost as if you've seen them before.

It snarls at you, its ears and lips drawing back to expose the glint of sharpened canines that await you, its tail sharp and stiff, a warning sign: DANGER! DANGER!

You scoot backward in the sand toward your sword, buried in the sand. The wolf is still approaching just as slowly, its bark and growls echoing off the ocean and ringing back into your ears. Was this how you were going to meet your end? Slaughtered and torn to shreds by a rouge wolf, becoming its dinner, never to be seen again while your corpse decays on an abandoned beach?

You feel the cold steel amongst the granules and unsheath your blade, drawing it slowly as you rise to your feet. You do your best to steady your nerves, your heart hammering in your chest so wildly that you're assured that the beast can hear its drum as well. Though skilled with a sword, the circumstances couldn't be more against your favor; the instability of the sand and poor lighting make it more likely that you'll topple over and impale yourself before ever slaying the creature.

It growls once more, rearing its hind legs, ready to pounce. You brace yourself for impact, taking your best stance as the wolf leaps into the air. You're knocked flat on your back on the bumpy terrain, your sword falling from your hand as the air is strangled from your lungs, your body aching from the collision. It stands over you now, nose to nose with the beast that'd be your undoing. Its drool leaks onto your face; puffs of air are exhaled and manifested into the ether as it breathes in and out. You clench your eyes shut as it leans closer, praying that your death will be swift when you feel...a lick?

The long, fleshy tongue makes a slobbery mess of your cheeks and face as the wolf wags its bushy tail back and forth. This was bizarre, but you'd much rather be covered in sloppy hound kisses than be torn to shreds, so you accept your strange fate while continuing to giggle.

"I never expected to make a friend all the way out here," you coo, giving your best baby voice as you scratch the hound behind the ears.

A few moments later, you're blinded by a bright, pale light, transforming the once yipping black wolf into...Clive? Or at least you think it's Clive. It looks like him, the figure possessing the same crystalline eyes and dark shaggy hair, yet he still looks vastly different, as if he were half-beast, retaining the increased height, bulk, and hair as he did in wolf form. The rounded, fluffy ears and sharpened fangs are still present as well. You don't even realize he's naked at first due to the amount of thick, coarse hair covering his body, only being able to tell when you catch a glimpse of the few more intimate scars that lay between the follicles, reflecting in the flame's light.

He falls to his hands and knees, scampering toward you, pulling you close by the arm for a chaste kiss.

"Ouch," you squeak, scuttling backward as something sharp pricks your skin. He's quick to pull away, and that's when you notice the claws extending from the tips of his fingers, curled and sharpened to a fine point.

"My apologies; I'm, uh, not used to touching people when I look like this." He reaches out to cup your face, frowning a little as you twitch backward at the sight of his large hand. His fingers are gentle as they caress the sensitive skin of your cheek and neck, not wanting to startle you further.

"What are you doing all the way out here? Where have you been? What if something happened to you? What if-?" He begins to question, losing himself in the possibility of what ifs

"Clive," you cut him off, raising your eyebrows to stare at him like he's just grown two heads. He tilts his head to the side, perplexed, while you ask, "Are you not going to explain what's going on with you?"

"You're... a beast."

He sighs, sitting back on his hind with a dejected posture. "This," he gestures up and down his body, "is what I was trying to protect you from."

His eye catches a glimmer upon your flesh, trailing from your bicep to your forearm.

"You're bleeding," he mutters, turning your arm in his grasp to get a better view.

"It's alright," you stammer, reaching up to apply pressure to the cut when he looms over you, extending his head and tongue toward the abrasion, lapping at it quickly. You're taken aback at first, quirking an eyebrow in his direction, but soon realize that this is his means of comforting you, in his own dog sort of way.  His tongue also maintained its wolf-like qualities—long, pink, and rough—yet it didn't feel too unpleasant on the skin. The cool breeze against the wet saliva on your skin creates goosebumps along your body.

He continues to tend to your cut til he's assured the bleeding has stopped and the metallic tang no longer gracing his tastebuds. He pulls back, sitting on his rear once again. "You still haven't answered my question."

"You haven't answered mine. I've seen a lot of freaky things in my lifetime, Clive, but this...this requires an explanation."

A beat of silence passes as the two of you sit in front of the fire, illuminated in its orange haze. A small breeze of wind blows through the both of you, the moon and stars shine down from above.

He exhales defeatedly. "I'm... a werewolf."

You scoff, finding the words a bit silly coming out of his mouth. "I'm sorry, what?"

"It's true.  I was turned that night at Phoenix Gate all those years ago. It was the only way I could've survived." He pauses, lowering his head and drawing his ears back once again. "I never found the person who turned me—I don't believe I ever will. Though sometimes I wonder if saving me was worth it, seeing as it turns me into a monster."

"Clive..."

He shakes his head, ruffling his fur, a toothy grin adorning his features. "Never mind that."

"Every full moon, I transform into this beast against my will. That's why I'm away so often. That and well..." His words trail off as his eyes make contact with yours across the fire, scanning your face and body.

"Well, what?"

"Nothing," he smiles, eyes softening as he continues to look at you. "Now it's your turn; what in Founder's name are you doing all the way out here?"

You chuckle timidly, heat flooding your face—the likes of which you hope he can't see as you scoot away from him slightly, wishing you could bury your head in the sand for reacting so poorly.

"It's silly... and dumb," you mumble, trying to wave him off, turning your back toward him in an attempt to hide any further embarrassment. He grabs your hands in his, the size of them eclipsing your own, while he pulls you closer to him.

"It's not dumb, not to me," he says, running a fur-covered finger up and down your cheek. "Besides, it can't possibly be any dumber than me turning into a wolf," he chuckles.

You sigh, closing your eyes in preparation. "I was getting frustrated with the lack of communication, so I decided to just..."

"Run away?"

"Aye." You hang your head low in shame, kicking up a cloud of dust from the sand with your toes, feeling stupid and childish for having reacted this way.

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. It wasn't fair to you."

"It's alright."

He cups your jaw, nudging your chin up between his grip so that you're both on eye level, his eyes much sharper than before. "It's not alright, love, we're a partnership. We're supposed to trust each other, and we can't do that if I'm not being honest with you. I'll do better from here on, alright? I promise."

You give him a sickly-sweet smile, nodding in agreement as he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

"So how did you find me? I mean, I was hoping you would, but still, I'm curious."

"You really want to know? It's quite embarrassing."

"Now I most definitely want to know," you giggle, leaning toward him.

"Well, I uhm..." He becomes more bashful as he continues on. "I tracked your scent."

"I pulled one of your tunics from the laundry bin and used that to help me track you down."

"My scent?"

"Mhm," he grumbles, slowly leaning into you more and more, causing you to fall back on your hands as he draws near. "Your musk is very distinct. There's nothing else in Valisthea quite like it." He gets closer and closer, nudging his head under the skirt of your dress, getting incredibly close toward the apex of your thighs before taking a big whiff. "And oh, so addicting." Your eyelashes flutter in surprise, building heat throughout your body. This had to be some wolf thing, right? He never acted like this before.

You place your foot on his shoulder, pushing him back on his haunches, trying to shoo him away from under your dress with a subdued "Down boy."

He snarls faintly before wrapping his hand around your ankle and pulling you toward him, effectively dragging your body through the sand, scratching up your back, and getting the granules caught in your dress and hair. It'd take weeks for you to wash it all out.

He tugs on your leg til you're dangling in the air, holding you up as if you weigh nothing, yanking you higher and higher til your sweet cunt is pressed against his nose once more. He takes another huge whiff of your pussy and relishes in the scent that fills his nostrils. Your body contorts slightly, your abdomen tightening while you hold down the part of your dress that's fallen in your face, only to see him nosing at your underwear, licking his lips, and staring at you like you were a big piece of meat.

"I can smell you, you know," he whispers, licking a broad stripe against your folds through the gusset of your underwear. You can't help but thrash in the air, your back arching as the width of his tongue reaches every crevice of your cunt in one fell swoop. Oh, this was certainly different, but you liked it.

"I can smell your arousal, Founder, your scent is so addicting." He nuzzles into your pussy again, rubbing his nose back and forth over your clit through your underwear, grinning at your desperate mewls and whines.

"You smell so fucking good," he murmurs and delivers another broad lick to your panties, effectively soaking them with his drool. "And taste even better," he winks. "But your scent isn't the only thing I can sense. Your heart rate has increased quite significantly, as well as your breathing." Partly from fear but mostly from arousal.

another broad lick and a sniff

"You're probably debating whether or not it's okay to be attracted to me while I'm like this."

another lick

"Mmm, fuck," he growls as more of your essence pools in your knickers. "But don't worry, I can make the decision for the both of us." He gives an airy laugh.

another sniff

His claws graze the seam of your panties, slightly unraveling the stitching. "Please let me taste you," he pants. "Please don't deny me your sweet nectar."

"I've gone far too long without it," he mumbles as he begins to make out with your pussy through your underwear, while his claws start trailing over the rest of your body as you continue to hang in the air. Clive was never one to shy away from pleasuring you with his honeyed tongue, but this was a whole new level of desperation.

"Please," he pleads.

"Alright alright, just put me down. I'm starting to lose feeling in my legs." He grins and happily obliges, his tail wagging rapidly as he drops you slowly onto the sand by your ankle. You lean back on your elbows so as not to get any more sand in your hair, and spread your legs wide for him. He gets on his hands and knees, crawling over to you seductively before lifting the hem of your dress over your pelvis, exposing your soaking wet knickers to him once again. 

He smiles down at you, admiring the view of your disheveled state while dragging a claw on your inner thigh, making you shiver before he tucks the nail into the crotch of your panties, tearing them straight off your cunt with little resistance. The fabric is left in tatters beside you when you gasp, your slick folds now fully exposed to the chilly evening air.

He groans as he lifts your hips into the air, throwing your thighs over his broad shoulders as he makes eye contact with your bare cunt, all wet, spread, and exposed just for him. Your bum is in the air slightly as he settles himself on his elbows, his large hands wrapping around the plush of your thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh slightly. He gets on eye level with your pussy, the hairs on your mound drenched from his salvia. You look so appetizing to him that he can't fight off the desire to sink into your wetness.

"Do you want to know the real reason I stayed away all this time?" He asks, bringing his mouth closer to your cunt, nibbling on your inner thigh with his teeth, causing a slight blood trail to trickle down from the skin.

You whimper but nod your head in response.

"Your scent tempts me like no other." His rough tongue laps up the blood spilled from the nick he created, leaving you writhing for more pleasure.

"It'd take everything in me not to mount you right where you lay and take you as my mate." You groan at that, causing a chuckle to escape him while he continues to nip and lick at the skin surrounding your pussy, neglecting where you need him most.

"Clive, please," you whine, having had enough of his teasing and desperately wanting him to push you over the edge with that sweet tongue of his, so after deciding that you've had enough, he gives you what you so desperately crave: a long swipe of his tongue from your entrance, all the way to your needy, swollen clit.

You arch your back while he groans at the taste. Something about being in this form enhances his senses and the pleasure he receives from pleasing you.

He gathers a pool of salvia behind his teeth and spits it on your cunt before he pulls you even further into his mouth, swirling the wetness all along your poor neglected pussy. The change in texture brings you heightened pleasure as his tongue drags along your clit over and over, making you mewl and whine in his hold.

Your hips begin to buck against his face, and he's gentle when he pulls the sensitive nub between his sharpened teeth. Your fingers find themselves in his shaggy hair, curling into the roots, where you give a slight tug, pulling him even closer into your cunt. He groans into your pussy as more of your arousal leaks from your quivering hole.

He detaches himself from your clit, moving down to your entrance, where he laps at the escaping juices. It's like a drug to him, one that he simply can't get enough of, so it comes as no surprise when he wiggles his tongue into your tight hole to collect even more of your flavor on his palette. He pushes the warm muscle further and further in, slurping up every last drop you provide, not letting a single one go to waste. It's such a foreign sensation, but you can't deny the pleasure you derive from it when he begins thrusting it in and out of you, effectively fucking you with his tongue.

"Fuck, Clive," you moan as his efforts hasten, greedy for more of your flavor.

Your hips continue to rut against his face, clit knocking against his nose with every buck upward. You're whining, whimpering, and writhing all over the place while his strong, calloused hands keep your hips pressed against his face. He takes over for you and grinds your pussy all over his face while continuing to tongue-fuck you as you're reduced to nothing but whimpers due to the sensations, your cunt beginning to pulsate around his warm muscle as the whiskers on his face tickle your clit in ways you've never felt before.

His rhythm against you is brutal; your legs are beginning to shake and your toes starting to curl. A slew of pleas fall from your lips, begging him to bring you to your sweet release, and he's always been one to please. He growls out "cum for me" before suckling your clit back between his lips, hard.

You wail loudly as you see white behind your eyes, your thighs squeezing around his head tight while continuing to tug on his hair, slowly bucking your hips as you continue to ride out the rest of your high.

Clive keeps up his efforts on your clit, making your hips jolt as he overstimulates your poor pussy. With a simple tap on the side of his face and a muffled "enough," he lowers you back down again, being sure to cover your exposed sex with the skirt of your dress once more.

"That was..." you begin to rave, lifting your head up to meet his eyes only for your attention to be drawn elsewhere, particularly toward the protrusion from his lower half that's now sticking straight in the air.

Heavens above, was that his cock?

Your eyes are diverted once again as he begins licking his chops, swirling his tongue all around where your wetness graced his face. Poor thing, he always did get unbearably horny when eating you out.

You reach out toward him, wanting to provide some relief, when he backs away, shuffling in the sand.

"You don't...you don't need to do that..."

"In fact, it's probably best that you didn't."

"Are you sure? It looks like it hurts..."

His cock looked a lot different than usual. It was angrier, meatier, thicker, longer, his whole shaft red in color instead of the pretty pale yellow tone you're used to, and it was hard, so incredibly hard, with precum leaking down onto the sand below. You've never had anything like it before, but you knew you wanted it, and you wanted it BAD.

"It's alright, I can take care of myself when I turn back, besides, if we do this, I won't be able to stop myself, and I- I don't want to hurt you." He attempts to cover himself up from your wandering eye, but that serves to only work against him as he whimpers every time he bumps into his erection, his teeth digging into his lower lip.

You crawl toward him slowly, your hands and knees sinking into the sand as you move forward. "I trust you, I know you won't hurt me." You settle between his legs, dense, dark, coarse hair covering the base of his cock. "Let me make you feel good too," you mumble, grabbing his shaft with your hand. It's hot to the touch, with way more veins, the base more rounded and bulbous than usual. You pump him up and down slowly as he mewls and growls against your touch. 

"This is your last chance," he huffs. "I won't be able to hold myself back." 

"I want you just like this, Clive," you lean in, pressing a wet kiss to his lips while you continually stroke him. "Don't hold yourself back," you whisper, smirking against him as the two of you kiss some more, both beginning to pant into the other's mouth as the excitement builds.

He emits a low growl and picks you up by your hips, planting you down on all fours in front of him. The hem of your dress is torn by his claws as he lifts it over your bum, your cheeks on full display. His hand comes down with a swift SWAT to your ass, leaving tiny abrasions on your skin from his nails. Your body propels forward from the impact as you squeal, your pussy starting to drool with arousal once again. 

He leans himself over you; his broad body is heavy on your back as it casts a large shadow in the moonlight. You can feel all the hair that covers his legs as he presses into you, the follicles tickling the back of your thighs as he lines himself up with your entrance.

"I'd much rather take you on your back, spread you nice and wide, have you laid out all pretty underneath me like you always seem to enjoy," he murmurs in your ear, trailing his hand from your thigh to knead at your breast through your clothes.

"But unfortunately, your choice of locale for throwing this little tantrum prohibits that sort of thing."

"We wouldn't want sand to get where it doesn't belong, hm?" He removes his hand from your breast and interlocks his fingers over top of yours, where they've sunk into the sand. Though his hand is so large, he might as well be clenching his fist around your own.

He sniffs your nape, then presses a kiss to the back of your neck. "I'll be as gentle as I can til you're ready for more, alright?"

"I'll make this as pleasurable for you as possible," he coos. When he notices your body shivering, though he's unsure if it's due to the cold or nerves, he runs his free hand up and down your side in a soothing manner, in an attempt to help calm you a bit. He plants a sweet kiss and a lick on your cheek, and it manages to pull a short giggle from you, which he smiles at.

"I'm ready."

With your fingers still interlocked together, he carefully begins to insert himself, and it takes all of his will to not buck his hips and go balls deep inside you. The hug of your warm, wet walls on his weepy, swollen cock is almost too much for him to bear.

You bite your lower lip and grunt as he pushes in, feeling like you're being torn open from the inside out. He can sense your discomfort; your heart rate skyrocketing due to the pain. He's quick to move his other hand from your side to your clit, rubbing smooth, soft circles on the bundle of nerves with the pad of his fingers.

His ears pull back at your discomfort, and he nuzzles his nose into your neck further, trying to soothe you through more licks and kisses to your neck.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whimpers, and your heart all but breaks at the sound.

The ministrations on your clit start to overtake the burn of your nethers and you encourage Clive to keep pushing in further. It's a prolonged effort, with him moving in short increments every so often til he was as deep as you could allow, stopping just short of the bulb inflating the base. He was already quite well-endowed, having little to no trouble bringing you to sweet bliss on his cock, but this was a whole new world. His cock felt like it now resided in your guts and that your guts were now in your longs. His girth, the likes of which you've never felt before. Your cunt strangles him with everything it has; every bump against your ridges fills him with pleasure.

Once he's as deep as he can go with minimal resistance, he brings you over the edge by playing with your clit. Sadly, there's not enough prep in the world that would make taking him an easier feat, but he's hoping that the now relaxed muscles in your cunt will make the whole experience more pleasurable.

He continues to coo and coddle you as you come down from your second orgasm of the night. The squirm of your smaller form against his fills him with amusement. There's something so primal about him mounting you like this, caressing your soft skin while making sure to comfort you through lots of kisses and nuzzles as he whispers words of affection in your ear. You're pretty sure your cheek is going to be rubbed raw by the end of this.

"You're such a good girl," he murmurs in your ear. "You're doing so good for me."

He stalls his hips while you gather yourself, collecting your thoughts as you try to bring yourself back into the moment. It's only when you give the go-ahead that he starts to move, taking care to make sure that this part is done with caution as well until you're accustomed to any sort of rhythm with his size.

Your fists dig deep into the shore as the veins of his angry cock drag along every single bump and groove inside you.

"Fuuuuuuuuck," you growl between your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut tight at his slow and methodical thrusts. You knew he was just making sure you didn't get hurt, but it felt like him going this slow and deliberate might actually kill you.

"Clive, you can move a little faster," you pant.

"Are you sure? I don't want to-"

"Yes, I'm sure just-" you clench down on him harder, hoping that will drive the point further. "Just please..."

"Alright then," he mumbles, settling his face on your shoulder, his big, bulky body still encompassing you. He moves his hand down to your hip, where his thumb draws soothing patterns into your skin while his hips start to rock back and forth. It's a slow rhythm at first, which admittedly you're thankful for, knowing that you'd probably regret telling him to go all out once you're forced to waddle to the infirmary and explain to Tarja why your nethers looked the way they did.

It takes everything in you not to groan out in pleasure, and after noticing this, of course, Clive goads, gaining a more steady rhythm, his pace quickening with every passing second.

"There's no one else here but you, me, and the stars, love."

"You can be as loud as you want." After heeding his proposal, you let out a loud moan into the open air, which echoes softly over the ocean.

"That's it," he praises, licking a stripe on your neck. It's not long before you feel the coil winding in your belly once more, signaling your impending orgasm. You attempt to reach down toward your clit when Clive smacks your hand away, replacing your fingers with his own as he rubs fast circles on the pearl.

He's grunting and huffing in tandem with your moans, the two of you fucking like wild animals as his hips snap in quick succession against yours. His cock glides against the soft, spongey spot deep inside you over and over with no end in sight. Your toes curl as your cunt squeezes down on him even harder than before, screwing your eyes tight as you brace yourself for the impact of your oncoming orgasm. The weight of his cock makes you see stars as you reach ecstasy once more.

"Fuck," he groans against you, digging his face deeper into your neck, inhaling the scent dripping off you from your sweat, your body lunging back and forth as he continues to fuck you. You presumed this would be the finale, but soon realize you're dead wrong as he grabs you by both hips again and sits back on his heels, effectively spearing you on his cock as your legs are spread wide over his thick, hairy thighs.

His claws come out to shred at the material of your bodice, ruining the fabric of your dress and making it so your tits bounce wildly with every powerful thrust he delivers underneath you.

Your body is akin to puddy at this point, your head resting against his shoulder as he bounces you up and down on his cock. His fingers come down to pinch at your nipples as you writhe against his body, the cool evening air making them hard as rocks while he plays with the rest of your body to his own enjoyment.

It's not long after that you find yourself on the brink again as you succumb to becoming his personal fleshlight, his thrusts unrelenting while he whispers more sweet nothings into your ear, his fat cock bullying your sopping hole. The crashing waves are the only sound capable of drowning out the squelch of your cunt from him fucking into you so well.

You cum again with a loud cry, your body falling against him as you fully lose yourself in pleasure, becoming weak and limp in his arms while he holds you upright.

"Think you can handle one more?" he smirks.

You nod and mumble incoherently while he stops thrusting, positioning himself on your bedroll to lay fully on his back.

Your legs are spread as wide as possible over his lower torso and hips, your sloppy cunt exposed for all the stars and heavens to see.

You tilt your head slightly when Metia and the full moon come back into view. You mouth a breathless "thank you" to them, as it seems your prayers for having Clive come to your aid were answered.

In your delirious state, he guides your hand down to your lower abdomen, right where his cock lies inside you. He then takes his other hand to the back of your head and eases your neck upward to look at the protrusion, his cock causing your abdomen to bulge out. You go a little cross-eyed at the sight, and he takes your hand under his and presses down on the bulge, which draws out a low whine from you both.

He snarls, "Can you feel how deep I am inside you?" You nod haphazardly, not able to do much else. He chuckles at your disposition and begins to slowly thrust back from underneath you.

"By the end of this, I think you'll be molded to the shape of my cock, your cunt ruined for anyone else." He laughs while you whine and writhe; his slow, languid thrusts not enough to drive you over the edge.

"Awwww, sweet little thing just wants to cum again, huh?" He mutters in your ear, smirking as you mewl, your pussy clenching down on him while he laps up your sweat.

"Alright then, darling, I'll give you what you want," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before increasing his rhythm once more, his bulky arm coming down to scoop underneath your knees and pull your legs toward your chest, allowing him to reach even deeper inside you.

You do something unexpected; in your bliss-induced delirium, you bring his hand that's pushing down on your belly up toward your throat and wrap his thick fingers around your neck slightly. He huffs down at you, his body still hard at work, pounding into your sopping cunt.

"You want to be choked now, do you? This is new. Are you sure this is what you want, sweetheart? I don't want to hurt you." You nod as enthusiastically as your aching body will allow, closing your hands overtop his once again.

"Alright, alright, I get it," he chortles, slowly but surely pressing down on the sides of your neck, reducing the blood flow.

From behind, he starts foaming at the mouth, his thrusts getting more brutal both in pace and intensity. How he managed to last this long is beyond you.

He releases his hold on your legs and moves down to rub quick circles on your clit, his other hand squeezing down tighter as you get closer to release. Your hands come up to squeeze your own nipples, and the edges of your vision get hazy as you start to lose consciousness and feel extreme bliss.

"Cum for me," is whispered in your ears, and all of a sudden, your brain and lungs are flooded with oxygen as you experience the most intense orgasm of your life, letting out nothing short of a silent scream as your body spasms and arches wildly. The rush to both your head and cunt is greater than anything you've experienced before.

Clive keeps thrusting into you as he drives himself toward his own release, the bulb on his cock continuing to knock into you, ever so slightly entering you with every movement.

"Clive, w-what is that?" You rasp, your voice shaky from its extended use over the course of the night. He takes on a much more shy attitude after hearing your question, continuing to groan.

"It's m-my knot."

"Your what?"

"It's a wolf thing; it helps keep me inside after I... you know..."

"It helps with mating, but you don't have to take it if you don't want to."

You shake your head back and forth. "No, I want to. I want to take it."

"Fuck," he growls. "Are you sure?"

"YES," you wail.

"As you wish, darling."

It's a few short, sloppy thrusts later when Clive sinks his teeth into your shoulder, grunting and howling as he stuffs you full, pushing his knot fully inside you while he goes balls deep into your cunt, your pussy swelling and stretching to accommodate the excess girth.

"Heavens above," you cry, your back arching toward the sky as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, ropes upon ropes of his warm spend shooting deep inside you as he's milked for all he's worth.

You both slump against each other in the aftermath, his hands coming up to caress your body. "We're going to be stuck like this for a while."

It's sometime later that you're snuggled up on Clive's body as you lay both bare underneath the stars together. His huge body keeps you warm while you twirl your fingers into his chest hair, his mouth coming down to press multiple kisses to the crown of your head.

"So you won't fully transform back until sunrise?"

"Correct."

"And you've been like this for over fifteen years?"

"Mhm," he mumbles.

"Where do you go for those three days? Clearly, you're not at the hideaway."

"Do you promise not to laugh at me?"

"Who do you take me for? Of course, I won't laugh at you."

He sighs, trailing his fingers up and down your back. "I actually go back to Rosalith. I've got a little den set up there."

"How adorable," you tease, making a kissy face at him. "You'll have to take me to go see it sometime."

"I don't think so," he smirks.

"Wha- why not?" You huff, an adorable pout forming on your face.

"Let's just say that I really wouldn't be able to hold myself back in that instance, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there." He presses a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose.

"Okay, okay, last question. Did you really mean all that filth you spewed about why you disappeared all those times?"

"It's partially true. All my senses are heightened, and you truly do become irresistible to me. Not that I'm any less attracted to you normally, but it's...different." He pulls you closer to his chest.

"Though I suppose I was mostly afraid that you'd look at me differently and that you wouldn't want to be with me anymore."

"Clive, I've watched you prime into Ifrit with my very own eyes; do you truly believe that I'd leave you because you transform into a hound?"

"Wolf," he corrects.

"Same difference," you chuckle, raising your head from his chest to peer into his eyes. A lovesick, dopey grin is plastered all over his face when he looks at you, despite his words of insecurity.

"I'm with you no matter what, Clive. No matter the challenges or struggles you may face. I'll always stand by you. I love you, and that will forever remain true," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, and you swear you can see his pupils double in size as he repeats the phrase back to you.

You rest your head back on his chest once again, enjoying the feeling of contentment before speaking out, "We're going to have a lot of explaining to do back at the hideaway, won't we?"

"Oh, most definitely."

[ddarker-dreams]

Nexus V.

Yandere Blade x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, codependency o'clock, implied/mentioned not SFW, coercion and mommy issues. Word count: 10.1k.

Nexus index.

Time is a way to measure reality. 

It allows the woefully inadequate mind of a sentient being to process a sliver of something greater. The senses are a sieve that retains what little they can of the universe’s riptide. Considering this, it’s no wonder the Aeons tend to keep to themselves. How long would you entertain the whims of a speck of dust? You’d gain nothing from it. The dust cannot understand, it lacks the means to properly perceive you. It simply wishes to find a nice, comfortable spot to occupy its days. It can loathe, revere, or fear you, it matters not; for in the end, it’s nothing but a speck of dust. 

So why do the Aeons occasionally make themselves known? What do they stand to gain? Further power, enlightenment, entertainment? 

They should’ve just kept wading through the stellar sea. 

Specks of dust shouldn’t be allowed to wield even an ounce of their power. 

All it does is let them destroy themselves and others in new, horrific ways. 

The white rings around your mother’s pupils shine. 

She subjects Kafka and Blade to concurrent curses. Cutting, snipping, trimming; their psyches are flayed one layer at a time. How she does so rivals a butcher preparing a tender cut more than a doctor performing a delicate surgery. Inky blots propagate along Blade’s vision. From this limited perspective, you can’t determine Kafka’s condition. Not that it would matter, you can barely comprehend what Blade’s going through. 

Mother has to be forming a link, right?

Ideally, both parties consent to a link’s formation. This grants stability and lowers the chances of complications. An unwelcome link is treated with the same hostility as an immune system that’s noticed a germ. It’s sought out, identified, then exterminated. The host may suffer malaise for a time, but if their body is in working order, the problem will sort itself out. 

There has to be more to this, you surmise. Mom, please, don’t let this be the end. You can’t. Not you. 

The disease inflicted on Blade metastasizes; Kafka is likely facing a similar predicament. Memories swarm around him like locusts, buzzing and biting. 

The Zhuming is the womb from which divine weapons are born. It is the warden to the subdued Flint Emperor, whose flames once burned hot enough to rival the stars. These flames will one day exterminate the rampant borisin, the young boy is certain. Whether it be in his lifetime or not doesn’t matter. No child deserves to be made an orphan. He can’t undo what’s been done to him, but he can help prevent it from happening to others. 

“If you believe you are up to the task, I will take you on as my apprentice. What you do with the knowledge I impart is your decision.” 

This Foxian lady sent to retrieve support for the fight against the borisin loves to chat. There’s rarely an instance where a grin can’t be found on her face, wide enough that her eyes must squish to accommodate her exuberance. 

“Just focus on what you want to do, and let fate take its course."

Those who belong to the short-life species cannot grasp a nebulous concept such as ‘fate.’ This sentiment is commonly found among his fellow Artisanship Commission members. It doesn’t deter him — if anything, his resolve is strengthened. His life won’t be as long as theirs, but it will burn hot and bright before it extinguishes. 

“The borisins must pay the price for their evil.” 

One day, a lady with long, silver hair, who has conquered the moon and brought it to heel, approaches him. The air around here is crisp, contrasting the sweltering air of the Zhuming. She reminds him of the winters he experienced on his home planet. He had forgotten how frost stings. 

“A talent such as yours shouldn’t be left to drown amidst a mediocre sea. After this visit, I’m bound for the Loufu. A seat will be made available for you. Come and reach your full potential, or, languish here where your accolades will fade from history’s recollection.” 

The Shard Sword, Starfall Reverie, Cloud-Piercer, and Baiheng’s recurve bow were no longer what he treasured most. Those monumental accomplishments don’t enrich lives, it ends them. Standing here, where the ocean’s blue is more brilliant than the artificial sky, is where he’s found something akin to peace. The Scalegorge Waterscape has become a gathering place for friends. Laughter, sparring, and the burning of liquor are shared beneath the moon’s watchful eye. 

He raises a cup to his lips and silently wishes this joy could last forever. 

“Do you remember?”

This voice interrogated him unceasingly for answers they both knew he couldn’t give. Again and again, he’d undergo a punishment disguised as a lesson. Frost didn’t just sting, it imparted necrosis, yet what is decomposition to an immortal but a joke? Again and again, his flesh would be pierced, organs punctured with expert execution. His body wasn’t allowed the privilege to rot. 

Again and again, he’d be swallowed by death, only to be spat back up, as it’s unable to digest him. 

"Listen, I can always kill you again, otherwise I can't bring you back."

What he thought to be prey standing in his way turned out to be apex predators. A woman who could render him useless with her words alone and a suit of armor that reflected the sun in his weary eyes. He had to get his fill of death before considering her offer. It sounded too good to be true, but he was reminded that the universe has enough instruments to perform the threnody he so desperately wishes to hear. 

“Having trouble settling on a gift? Hm… I suppose that’s to be expected. Any off-world flora you leave behind will shrivel beneath the planet’s atmosphere, unless it possesses special qualities. It’d be a bad omen to give her a lotus that can wilt. Why not try a different approach?”

He stands solitary on the cragged terrain around the LOTUS-EATER. Though she’ll soon emerge to gaze up at the starless sky, his wait won’t end there. It’ll bleed into the next day, then the day after that, on and on the cycle will spin. Destiny’s Slave promised this vortex would end so long as he remained patient. Once he fully bows down before her, damnation will be her crown. The weight of his burden is to be shared by two. 

He considers the iridescent crystals in his bandaged hands. 

He thought the joy he found in creation died the same day ▇▇▇▇▇ did. 

This emotion’s resurrection, however…

… If it’s a sin, then what’s another addition to his list? 

“Listen, Blade, snap out of it.”

The swarm falls silent. 

Bright screens, the thrum of the oxygen generator, sterile colors. Kafka towers over him, implying that he’s fallen to the ground. Her complexion lacks its usual glow. While Blade stands, she reaches inside her jacket and pulls out a portable blush. She dusts the rosy powder over her cheeks. 

“That was unpleasant,” Kafka sighs. She snaps the container shut. “I guess that’s to be expected from one of Noct’s Emanators. It seems you bore the brunt of it, though.” 

Mom, an Emanator? You think. Maybe… maybe that means she had a chance to get away. This was a diversion that she used to go into hiding. Faking a corpse is within their skillset, Silver Wolf can hack reality itself. I only looked at it long enough to confirm her identity. 

Blade places a hand on his throbbing head and grimaces. His vision alternates between different degrees of blurriness. Kafka’s positioned in front of him, which prevents you from seeing the area your mother occupied. You pray to anything that might listen for her to fucking move already.

“That trip down memory lane was a red herring,” Kafka says. “She bought herself enough time to complete her real objective.” 

Even Kafka thinks so! 

Instead of explaining further, she leisurely reaches for her lipstick. Your frustration boils over. You aren’t the only one feeling impatient. Blade hasn’t uttered a word, but his typical apathy ebbs and flows irregularly. Kafka hums a tune as she smears the rouge pigment along her puckered lips. This whimsical attitude shows no signs of tapering off. 

Blade exhales sharply, belying his annoyance. He’s near his limit as well.

Kafka clicks her tongue. “Don’t be so impatient, you two. I’m dolling myself up.” 

…‘You two?’

“Yes. Now, let me assess the damage,” Kafka switches from looking at Blade to inspecting his psyche. She gasps, playing the role of a melodramatic damsel perfectly. “Oh my. Ania did a number on you.” 

This woman is insufferable, always playing coy. I swear, the next time I see her—

“Your memories of [First] Phaeales, the visceral emotions she stirs up in you; they’re growing fuzzier by the second, I presume? In an hour or so, they’ll be gone altogether. Hmm… ‘gone’ might not be the best word to describe it. Sealed away might be more appropriate.” 

A premonition too cruel to put into words coils around you. 

No, no, no. 

“Can you fix it?” Blade strains. The hypothetical Kafka suggested encourages his mara to writhe and hiss in dissatisfaction. It crawls around his head, murmurs near his cochlea in a scratchy voice, demanding a quick fix. To be deprived of you is unacceptable, it insists. This sentencing must be overturned. It wants you, needs you and will destroy anything to have you. Himself included. 

Pandemonium wreaks havoc inside his head, it’s like he barely exists. The warring influences rip away as if drawing and quartering him. 

“I can’t, no. It’s beyond my abilities,” Kafka’s smile is all teeth. “Fortunately, I do know of someone who can undo it.” 

His mara hushes so it may hear her out. 

“Contact them,” he snaps. 

“You’d get all bashful if I did. Besides, I don’t think she’d do a very thorough job if she knew the context.” 

Kafka stares Blade in the eye and tilts her head like she’s posing for the camera. “Isn’t that right, Miss Phaeales?” 

You think you might be living in a nightmare. 

Please, no…

Blade’s heart lurches inside his chest at your mention. 

“Listen, Bladie. Until [First] Phaeales undoes her mother’s seal, you’ll be unable to remember the past twenty-four hours. The second the seal is undone, this memory, on June 8th, 2153 AE, starting from Eris’ local time of 0223 and concluding at 0214, will resurface in your consciousness. It will play for her so she’s fully caught up.” 

How could something this awful… ever happen…? 

The edges of the memory fade and curl inward like burning paper. 

“I’ll throw in some advice, just for you, sweetie. He’s bound to get tongue-tied around you, so remember to be patient,” Kafka’s suggestion is muffled. “Oh, and another thing. You might want to get a headstart while you can.” 

… 

You can’t breathe. 

The room performs for you, rippling side to side, hypnotizing as a pocket watch. A white blur whirrs by. Clink, clink, clink, it crashes, spurting its innards in a splatter of red and glimmering gold. The sound itself seems delayed, echoing a moment too late. It isn’t in time with the opal shards that scatter like teeth along the polished floor. The deluge is offbeat, dissonant, yet the song continues.

You can’t breathe. 

The percussion is ousted, making way for the woodwind section. The flutes raise and raise in pitch. This tocsin sounds shrill and consistent, stabbing your eardrums, and vibrating your bones. Dizziness makes for a distracting audience member, its dry, unblinking eyes landing on you. It opens its maw impossibly wide, tearing the tendons around its cracked lips, and swallows your head. For some reason, it cannot go past your neck, so it contents itself with gorging on your cranium like it’s sucking candy. 

You can’t breathe. 

There’s something living inside your throat. A parasite, leech, or slug, maybe. It wriggles back up whenever you try swallowing, like jello on a wobbling plate. The tiny hairs along its gelatinous body tickle your esophagus. You’re always on the precipice of choking, but not quite. It delights in the warm and moist cavern you’ve provided. 

You can’t die because it wants more from you. 

You can’t be reduced to a husk because your vitality sustains it. 

You can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe—

Something awful touches your skin and you want to burn the residue it leaves behind. 

“[First].” 

You scramble back until your spine hits a cold, solid surface. A hand retracts. 

What is this thing before you? It’s tall and has eyes like vats of blood. You see your reflection held captive inside the crimson miasma. The woman it shows resembles you in some ways and doesn’t in others. She looks afraid. Sickly. Lost somewhere between the junction of life and death. Traipsing, testing the fraying line’s integrity. One wrong step guarantees a plummet to inconceivable depths. 

“[First].” 

“Don’t,” you rasp, your voice wobbling like a transmission with a poor signal, “Don’t you fucking dare come near me!” 

He listens. For now, at least. You’d be a fool to mistake stalling for surrender. You press your back into the wall hard enough to ache. The enclosed space seemingly shrinks around you. You press a trembling hand over your heart, feeling how it hammers against your chest cavity. The room’s air is stifling. Your sympathetic nervous system can’t decide its course of action. Should the little oxygen you’re inhaling go to your brain or your heart? Delegation is a tricky endeavor. 

Blade’s gaze eats you alive.

He’s starving and you’re the only thing that can fill him.

The manifestation of his mara frightened you less. 

 Mom, what have I done? What can I do? 

“You should sit,” he says. You want to rip his vocal cords to shreds. “There’s nowhere to run and you know better than to fight.”

As if he had to remind you. 

The Shard Sword. So that’s the name of the terror he wields? You’ve read about it in history books, there are entire chapters dedicated to the High-Cloud Quintet’s exploits. Even if he were unarmed, you wouldn’t stand a chance. Any flesh wound will heal, any organ will stitch itself back together, and any death will be a temporary visit he’ll saunter back from.

Blade takes a step closer.

How do you get out of this? How do you get him to stop? What would get him to stop? 

What could he possibly want more than you? 

Oh.

The answer unfurls like a body bag. 

… There is one more thing, isn’t there? 

You thread your psyches together with a thin string. It’s too weak in its present state, the weight of your goal will make it snap instantly. You need to fortify it as best as you can. Otherwise, there is no place you can go where he won’t find you. The prismatic shards that record his history are no longer indecipherable, each moment is visible to you, forming a macabre mosaic. 

The second you finalize this link, he’ll know. Your touch isn’t a stranger to his mind anymore. Nothing about you is. 

You recall the shattered opal goblet a few feet away. 

You let your knees buckle like they’ve desired all along. You fall toward the jagged shards and you brace yourself. It happens as swiftly as you expected — his inhuman speed allows him to catch you easily. He steadies you against him, holding you up since the strength leaving your body wasn’t an act. 

Your hand brushes over a sliver of his skin. 

You wanted me to show you what it’s like to die, you think. It isn’t beyond my means at all, Yingxing!

The Synalink is a success. 

He might want you, but his longing for a permanent death eclipses that. 

This is a scenario unlike any you’ve ever built before. The dimensions are simple, you’re creating one static scene. It isn’t a vast galaxy with trade, economies, and conflicting ideals, teeming with planets that house millions of individuals who each have their own role in the story to play. Grass doesn’t have to blow just right, there aren’t bystanders whose conversations you need to generate and perform maintenance on. 

The stage you’ve built is, at its core, nothing. A vacuum you’ve molded into a cube and placed him in the middle of. 

You’ve cut off stimuli to each of his senses. He can’t perceive anything, because there’s nothing to perceive. 

His psyche shows no signs of resistance. This is what he wants, isn’t it? Total absolution. The loss of self, to be undone and woven into the universe’s indifferent tapestry. Every factor has aligned in your favor like a once-in-a-millennium syzygy. Your newfound knowledge of his past, his most innate desire being death, then the amplification physical touch brings. 

This isn’t an unknown pathogen, it’s a welcome salvation. 

You just have to maintain it. 

Your main hurdle is finding a way to do so while navigating the physical world. The slightest deviation could have catastrophic consequences, his acumen is that competent. How long can you sustain this Synalink if you don’t dedicate your entire attention to it? There’s no point of reference. For all you know, it could be impossible. 

Regardless, you have to try. 

Reopening your corporeal eyes, you find yourself in the private room. 

The Stellaron Hunter, who uses the alias ‘Blade,’ stands behind you like a cocked gun. 

He isn’t moving. The white rings in his eyes match yours. His vitals are consistent with what you see in clients immersed in Synalinks. Low respiration and heartbeat, and the paralysis of limbs so as to deter unwanted motor functions.

You hold your breath, shimmy out of his loosened grasp, and then cautiously take a step back.

Your heels crunch down on a stray fragment from the broken goblet. You cringe.

You expect the worst when you gather the courage to look at him again. 

Still nothing. 

Keeping your back against the wall, you awkwardly slide toward the door leading to The Lounge. 

The burning question of what to do next sears your mind. You have no faith or trust in Chrysus. There’s Caicias, but he’s in Mele. The fastest nectar guide would still take two hours, factoring in the repairs being done to the one in Thelx. Even if he did make it here, what could he do? Help you negotiate? Would Blade even give him the chance? You’d be condemning the elder quadrant leader to certain death. 

Who is in your star system? You’ve heard that the Astral Express has had run-ins with the Stellaron Hunters, but they could be millions of light-years away. Then there’s Kafka. If she goes too long without hearing from Blade, she won’t just sit around and let you scheme. Silver Wolf could hack into the LOTUS-EATER’s surveillance system or use thermal imaging to gauge the situation. 

The price of hope is too steep. 

Your fingers grope blindly for the door’s switch. You refuse to take your attention off Blade for a split second. You feel a protrusion, start to flick it up—

Sparks fly from the wall like frantic fireflies, joined by chunks of dark debris. Strands of your hair blow aside as if subject to a wicked gale. Sediment scratches at your skin. Out of instinct, your eyes squeeze shut, shielding you from what they can. A figure towers above you. You can’t see him, but you can feel him. The torment, bloodlust, and yearning are so prevalent that they may as well be in the room alongside you. 

Through a looking glass, you saw the reflections of a wretched life.

How he fell victim to a friend unwilling to accept a comrade’s untimely demise. That for this incursion, death would never grant him permanent residency. Over a thousand times, a swordmaster gripped by madness tested this ordinance, her strikes colder than winter’s wrath.

He’d lose a piece of himself each time, leaving a mangled afterimage of what he once was.

A sinner rendered mara-struck and immortal — a shade that will dye you his accursed color. 

Blade pins your wrists above your head. It hurts, but you’ve learned there’s pain worse than this. 

“Open your eyes.” 

It isn’t a request. 

You hesitate for as long as he allows. Ultimately, you have no choice but to give him what he wants. Scarlet eyes reward your reluctant obedience. Leering, glowing. Your chest heaves beneath the burden of each breath. Something wet and warm trickles down your cheek. It titillates the flames of his mara as if it’d been lathered in oil. He shackles your wrists with his gloved hand and drags the other downward. Over your temple, cheekbone, then finally, your chin. 

He tilts your head up. 

Neither of you speak. 

How? How did he break free? 

You didn’t sense any fluctuations, nothing that’d warn of your incoming fate. Your control didn’t slip, it was pulled out right from underneath you. 

Isn’t death what every segment of his psyche seeks? His rationality, morality, and base instincts were all in agreement, a unanimous jury that didn’t require deliberation. 

What unforeseen note upset this triad? 

Your reflection in his eyes is drenched in red.  

“Haha… seriously?” You laugh a humorless laugh. “Me?” 

Blade doesn’t respond. You don’t know if he heard you. Either way, it doesn’t matter. He is the author of whatever happens next. 

A butterfly with injured wings loses none of its original beauty. If anything, it’s made easier to admire, now that it can no longer fly away. You have nowhere to go, nothing to do, and not a word to say that’d make a difference. This futility reassures his mara. That which was held above its head has been made to crawl along the ground. Blade seizes total control of himself as his mara slinks away. Cognizant of his bruising grip, he releases you. Without his crushing support, you collapse like a house of cards. Your knees hit the ground. 

You sink down further and squeeze your head in between your hands. 

It hurts, mom, it hurts. Why couldn’t you give me up one more time? ‘My’ life never belonged to me in the first place, anyway. You should’ve granted the shift in ownership when it was still a choice. 

… I’m scared. 

There is no getting out of this, is there?

Metal clinks by your side. Dazedly, you inspect the sound’s source. A silver dagger rests beside you. It’s small in build, yet pointed as a weapon should be. Your attention flitters between him and the blade. What is this? A pitiful attempt to level the playing field? Has he not humiliated you enough? Taken everything that wasn’t yours to give? 

Sensing your confusion, he explains, “Sins should be punished.” 

You grasp the hilt. 

It’s heavy. 

“What… are you even saying…?” You murmur. Is he referring to your mother? “It’s ‘permissible’ to take life, according to you.” 

You recount his creed with the venom it merits. 

He falls silent. 

“Not yours… not for free,” he drawls. “I’ll pay any price.” 

Transactions benefit both parties. What’s there for him to gain? 

You stand on unsteady legs.

Blade’s countenance is an impenetrable fortress. The violent waves have settled, leaving still, murky waters. Is it twisted affection swirling in his gaze? Guilt? The celebration of a long-fought battle? You don’t know. You don’t know what to think, feel, or do. You’re just numb. What will you be after this? Your mother likened their designs for you to a ‘retractable leash.’ Close, but not quite. 

You’ll be more of a portable oxygen tank. 

Kafka can’t always be there to soothe Blade’s mara, but you can. You will. You have to. It’s a duty that binds more than marriage. 

If transactions benefit both parties, then… 

What he’s offering to pay for here is you. 

Your eyes drop down to the dagger. 

The currency will be blood and flesh. He’ll let you kill him, however you want, for as long as you want. Ten, one hundred, one thousand times or beyond, until you feel the scales have balanced. The blank canvas has given you the tools to create your final masterpiece. Once the paint dries, the roles will reverse. The subjugated will become the subjugator. It isn’t a matter of if, it’s a matter of when. 

You raise the dagger, his cold heart your target. It’s yours. A gift, a burden, an unbreakable vow. 

You plunge it down, and—

—He doesn’t even flinch. 

The tip of the blade rips his shirt, but not his flesh. 

You toss it aside and shake your head. 

“Has anything worthwhile… ever come from killing you…?” 

Blade doesn’t respond, but you know he heard you. 

He furrows his eyebrows, your question hanging over his head. Whatever he expected, this must not have been a possibility he accounted for. Had he been anyone else, he might conflate mercy for forgiveness. He isn’t, though. He knows the crippling weight of guilt. How it secretly imbues you with a craving for more, so you can finally be crushed to death, instead of being forced to roll the boulder onward. 

Each slice would be for him as much as it is for you. 

If that’s penance to him, you will never grant it. 

“My mom…” you trail off, not because you don’t know how to complete the sentence, but because finishing it will finish something inside you. “Is she…?” 

Blade’s memories have made their way back to him using you as their bridge. You could parse through them, but you don’t want to. You don’t think he’ll lie. He hasn’t lied to you as far as he knew. The truth is worse and the truth is what you’ll get. The emotions you pick up from him hint at what you already know. They nibble at you as piranhas would. Notably missing from the onslaught is any iteration of guilt or its distant cousin, regret. 

He’d die a thousand deaths to pay the fee of having you. What’s a little more bloodshed to someone who views death as enviable? 

“Never mind,” you murmur. “Forget I asked.” 

He won’t. 

He refuses to forget anything about you ever again. 

For now, he’ll pretend otherwise. 

You’ve decided that from this distance, Eris looks like a marble. 

It’s just a little black sphere, infused with the occasional stream of gold. You center the image in between your thumb and pointer finger, making minuscule adjustments until it fits just right. Once you’re content, you hold it there, squinting your left eye so this speck’s the main focus. 

As of the latest census in 2155 AE, the planet Eris is thought to have a population of 2,912,840. 560,432 in Ade, 1,510,781 in Mele, an estimated 200,400 in Arc, and 641,227 in your home quadrant of Thelx. Each of those numbers can be attributed to a living, breathing being. Someone with their own family, history, ethics, dreams, and struggles. Your fellow Nymphalians, descendants of prisoners dumped on a dark and frigid planet to die.

You thought you’d given them your life before. In a pretty, metaphorical sense, that could be made into poems for generations. 

Your conversation with Destiny’s Slave reassured you that no, there’s nothing pretty or metaphorical about what awaits you. No one will be penning sentimental poems detailing an ascetic’s life led in solitude so that the people may prosper. You’ll be a cold case. For a week, your name will be a hot topic on primetime television. A headline sprawled in large font across news media companies. ‘Tragedy Strikes: Eris’ [First] Phaeales Kidnapped, IPC Implicates Stellaron Hunters,’ or something to that effect. 

Then another calamity will occur and you’ll be pushed from the public’s consciousness. 

You might get a special mention on anniversaries. The first, fifth, tenth, fiftieth, then the hundredth. Podcasts will do deep dives. Books will be written. Forum boards will swap theories. Who knows? An anonymous user might guess the truth and be labeled a conspiracy theorist for their troubles.

You pinch your thumb and pointer finger together, smushing the faraway planet from your perspective. 

“Boom!” You exclaim in a whisper yell. “Is that how easy it is to you?” 

He doesn’t respond. 

You turn away from the sheet of glass separating you from the limitless depths of outer space. 

“The silent treatment, huh?” You muse, drumming your fingers against the window pane. “You saw this future and worked oh so hard to procure it. What? Having second thoughts, now that it’s here? That’d be a shame.” 

There’s something ugly living inside your heart. It’s been there since you were born and will remain until you die. Maybe it lives inside everyone, you can’t say, you can only speak for yourself. Kindness isn’t inherent, it’s learned. Practiced so that it may be honed. Otherwise, the steel grows dull and rusts. Sharpening means losing layers of yourself against a whetstone. Those layers are worth losing, you’re told. Spite, vengeance, hatred; they’re all so, so ugly. Little imps that should be sandpapered away. 

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, that sort of platitude. It’s nice bumper sticker material. Something to slap on a graphic tee or coffee cup, maybe. To be fair, practicing the antithesis isn’t so simple either. 

You don’t want his eye, it’ll grow back.

You don’t want his life, he’ll just be born anew. 

You don’t want him, but from now on, he’s all you’ll get. 

“Are you curious about the deal I made with Elio?” You probe. 

Blade sighs, likely preparing himself for the vitriol you’ll slew his way. 

“I don’t need to know.” 

“You want to know, though,” you smile thinly. “I could feel you brooding from rooms away. What? Does the thought of me speaking to another man displease you that—” 

He rushes forward and lifts you by the collar of your blouse. You don’t waver, if anything, you could get drunk off this emotional outburst. His nostrils flare and you can feel his warm breath fan against your face. Your heart whirrs strong against its bony restraints, adrenaline blasting throughout your system. 

“That mouth of yours is testing me,” he chuckles, although he’s far from amused. “Have you forgotten the position you’re in?” 

“Have you?” You scoff. His grip tightens. “Go ahead. Choke me, ravish me. You can’t bring yourself to though, can you? Want to know why? Hm? You’re holding out for the slim, impossible chance that I might return your fucked up feelings, even if just a little bit.” 

Scornfully, you whisper, “Elio was generous enough to answer some of my questions. The extent of the Stellaron’s influence, the true perpetrators behind the nectar guide bombing, why you’d get so pissy whenever Lear swung by… in retrospect, it’s painfully obvious, really. Messing with the LOTUS-EATER’s noise-canceling software is child’s play for Silver Wolf. Did you enjoy eavesdropping on us? Probably not, huh?” 

He growls your name, low and menacingly. It’s a warning.

You ignore him. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you do. 

“I never told him,” your lower lip trembles. “Because of you, I’ll never get to, either. You want to pay a price? Have your sins punished? Start by listening to this!” 

His mara bubbles up as if it were magma. For someone unraveling from the inside out, he doesn’t look the part. Emotion and vitality have drained from his face. His complexion is that of the dead man he wishes himself to be. Pale, vapid. He wants you to stop, yet the only way you would is if he tore out your tongue. To do so would guarantee he’d never get to hear those three words directed at him. He must consider that fate harrowing indeed if he allows the means for you to utter your next sentence. 

The finger you pricked all those years ago tingles. 

“Lear is the only one I’ve loved. The only one I’ll ever love. He gave me a life; you’ve destroyed mine. How could you ever compare, Yingxing? How can you even come close?” 

You wrench yourself free from Blade’s grasp. He lets you. 

His hands remain where you once were. Gradually, they fall, as do his shoulders and head. It’s peculiar. You’ve come to be so in tune with his emotions, picking up on frequencies only you can hear. This pitch falls silent. His mara is too. The infighting over where he should begin and end calls for a temporary cease-fire. Neither madness nor sanity care for victory, their attention has been cast elsewhere, to a more prominent problem. 

“It is.” 

You narrow your eyes. “What?”

“Earlier, you asked if it’s that easy for me,” he says, plainly. “It is.”

Your system absorbs the implication as well as it would cyanide. 

“Eris and all of its inhabitants are strictly off-limits. I figured you'd already heard this.” 

“I have.” 

“Then—” 

“It’s not loyalty that ties the Stellaron Hunters together,” he interrupts. “It’s the pursuit of individual goals which just happen to align.” 

Blade saunters forward. You bristle, awaiting unwanted physical contact, yet he brushes by your shoulder. His footsteps echo throughout the ship’s hollow corridors. You pivot, intent on following his every movement. He gazes out the window, your home planet his point of interest. The little black and gold marble orbited by four moons, far away from any star. 

“Goals change, lotus.” 

His eyes find yours in the window’s reflection. 

He’s bluffing. He has to be. 

“You’ve sought death for over 700 years,” is your uneasy reply. “Surely, you wouldn’t risk the one avenue you have to reach it.” 

“Didn’t I already betray that expectation of yours?”

Death is no longer what every segment of his psyche seeks, as it’s the one place he can’t have you.  

“... You’ve stopped running your mouth. Clever girl,” Blade flexes his fists by his side. The leather glove on his hand creaks as he does so. “If you think this an empty threat, I have a suggestion.”

Blade grins from ear to ear. 

“Repeat any of what you just said to me and I’ll prove it isn’t.” 

It’s as if his mara forms tendrils that slowly slither up your body. It caresses your thighs, your midriff, and your chest. Breathes against your nape and coils around your neck. You can’t find the strength to move. It wishes you would so that it’d have an excuse to hold you tighter. Squeeze harder. Sink into you deeper. 

You glower at him. His mara keens, finding the expression delightful. 

“Look at me like that any longer and I’ll take you up on your suggestion.”

You pinch your eyebrows together, belying your confusion. 

He wets his lips with his tongue.

“‘Choke me, ravish me,’ was it?” he muses, chuckling breathlessly. “Who am I to deny such a tempting offer?” 

Finally, you muster the effort necessary to break free from his hypnotic stare. You’re overcome with the need to scrub off every part of your skin he’s touched. You want the residue gone, purged from your flesh. Nausea floods you like a broken dam. 

You let him touch you, you let him kiss you, you let him fuck you.

He can’t have anything else. 

You don’t know what more there is to take. 

His eyes are heavy on your back as you leave the room. This spaceship’s decently big, but it’s not enough. A universe could separate you, but it still wouldn’t suffice. You’ll create any gap you can, illusionary or otherwise. You speed through the ship’s main corridor until you near what’s to be your room. Before you can open it, your hand stills.

Elio said we’re to leave on a job the second Silver Wolf starts distracting the IPC’s blockade, you think. That should be any minute now. 

Your blood freezes over.

After this ship makes the jump, you’ll never see Eris again. 

Or Nona. 

Or Lear. 

Will Nona continue to pursue her studies without you there to teach her? Is there a reason for her to? She’s come so far since you first met. That harsh, untrusting girl with a permanent scowl blossomed into something truly special. 

“Seriously? You’re supposed to be my mentor?”

“Alright, lemme set one thing straight. I’m here to save up enough to leave this shithole. If that hurts your feelings, go and cry to mommy about it, I couldn’t care less. It’ll be bad press to ship your latest Arc rescue back over, after all.” 

“Why do you care about this planet, anyway? Beyond whatever sense of purpose you get from playing the hero, I mean. All anyone here ever does is complain and half-ass things. ‘Let’s give anarchy a shot guys, but like, a nice version of anarchy, where we all hold hands around a campfire and sing songs.’ It’s hilarious.” 

“The first time I made it to Thelx’s border as a kid, I thought I was hallucinating. I asked my older travel buddy, ‘What’s with these tiny, floating yellow spheres?’ She didn’t even spare me a glance, she was so enchanted. ‘That’s light,’ she said. ‘Take a good, long look. You won’t be seeing much of it.’ I remember how angry hearing that made me. Not just what she was saying, but how she said it. Like she’d given up. Like that was acceptable.” 

“A cargo ship bound for Rosiz is heading out in three cycles. You and Lear could come with me, y’know. Elope, or whatever. My contact would allow it. Probably. Hey, don’t give me an answer right away. Geez. At least think about it.” 

“Yep, I’m still here. Surprise! My other plans fell through, what can I say? Apparently, Rosiz is run by a weird blood cult. I don’t want anything to do with that. Guess you’re stuck with me a while longer. What’s with that look? Yeah, I still think this planet’s a shithole. But, you’re here, so… it’s 5% less shitty, give or take. Lear brings that up to a whopping 15%. Yes, he gets a value of ten. Have you tasted his cooking?” 

Will Lear ever know how much it meant when he comforted the haughty and naive girl you once were? How without him, all you ever would’ve known was loneliness? You were a handful, there’s no doubting that. It’s a miracle he put up with you. 

He had the softest voice when you were kids. 

“I’m supposed to play the princess? But… but… I’m a boy, and you’re a girl… so shouldn’t you…? Ow, ow, stop pinching! Okay, okay! I’ll be the princess! Eh? Whaddya mean ‘you’ll kiss it better?’ Miss Phaeales? Miss Phaeales…?!?!?!”

“I’m back from work, my wife. Huh? Husbands don’t say that? No no no no, you can’t play the husband, I have to play the husband! Lemme try again! Ahem. From work, I have returned… woman… I’ve married. That’s no good either? This is so complicated!”

“I dunno why you like Connect Four so much. I mean, we could play Monopoly, but you always steal credits when I look away. No, that's not allowed! … You’re just ‘being a capitalist?’ What’s that mean? Cheater, or something?” 

He didn’t lose this soft quality when he became an adult — his tenderness was the air you breathed. 

“‘What do I want,’ huh? Where do I begin? To be a part of you, I guess? Ah, if I’d known you were going to grin like that, I wouldn’t have said anything. W-Well, of course I want you. I just don’t think the phrasing’s right. You’ve always viewed yourself as a commodity. I don’t want to reinforce such a terrible thought.”

“It’s… so good, so warm, so… fuck, please, don’t look at me like that. I can’t believe… that I get to do this with you. You’re beautiful, you’re everything…! I’ve always loved you so much. So, so much. Is this okay? Is it really okay? If it is, then please, let me pleasure you.” 

“Quit messing around with me already. There’s no way that was your first time. Because, I mean, you’re so sought after, y’know? You must’ve had tons of opportunities to— ow ow ow, again with the pinching?! Alright, I get it, I get it! Pfft, stop, don’t make it weird. Okay, fine, hearing that does make me a little happy. Aaand there you go, making it weird. No, I’m not possessive. You said you don’t like possessive men, so… what? Of course I remembered that. I remember everything you say. Wait… are you embarrassed? I didn’t… didn’t think that was possible… one sec, lemme get my camera…” 

You swore an oath not to cry.

You didn’t when packing the few items Blade approved of, or when you negotiated with Elio. 

It’s not that you don’t want to. Should your resolve slip for a second, you grow dangerously close to drowning in a puddle of your own tears. There’s plenty to cry about, plenty to mourn. Once you start, though, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to stop. You’ll waste away as your body’s wrung for all its worth. Should that happen, you won’t be able to uphold your end of the bargain with Elio. 

There’ll be a lot more to cry about then. 

For this reason, you don’t turn back. 

Your deal with Destiny’s Slave consists of two elements. 

First, you are to serve as Blade’s ‘field partner,’ offering him your unremitted support however he sees fit. And second, you pledge the full extent of your psionic abilities to further the Stellaron Hunters’ mission. This second condition perplexed you, but it wasn’t like you had many bargaining chips. For so long as you cooperate, Eris will remain unharmed and the nascent Stellaron neutralized. 

Kafka had called to ‘celebrate your inauguration.’ You braced yourself for the worst, but she was surprisingly amicable. 

“Have you really never considered your utility outside of parlor tricks?” She wondered. “The power to create fantasias and read memories certainly has its uses, no?” 

“I just don’t see how it’d contribute much,” you replied. 

“If it stopped there, maybe. Should you be able to replicate Ania Phaeales’ seals, though… that’d come in handy.” 

You gritted your teeth and read between the lines. They want that too, huh? 

You’ve since worked tirelessly to understand how such an anomaly is possible, much less replicable. Silver Wolf provided an updated version of the Arbiter training software to aid your endeavors. You’ve tried and failed hundreds of times. Deleting fragments of a person’s psyche has disastrous results, as you once hypothesized. If the Stellaron Hunters wanted a foe lobotomized, they wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of obtaining you. 

The holographic screen floating before you presents an error message. 

‘Generated psyche #643, Garçia Chamora, has been rendered comatose from suffering damage to his cerebral hemispheres. Press here or say next to generate a new psyche.’ 

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. 

This job on Rosiz requires a nobleman’s lifelong fealty to be sealed, you think. If I can’t figure this out before then… 

Your stomach jumps to your throat like you’re in a free fall. 

Leaning back in your chair, you swipe the screen away. You look at the digital clock in the ship’s common room. It reads 2:05 a.m. This shift to a twenty-four-hour time has been a pain, but you think this number means it’s late. While glancing around the uninspired decor, your eyes land on a solitary figure. 

Blade sits on a beige couch with his arms and legs crossed, his eyelids shut. You assume he’s asleep. There are plenty of comfortable beds he could veg out on, but wherever you are, he isn’t far behind. You don’t get why he’s playing prison warden. He can’t think you’re stupid enough to try escaping with almost three million lives dangling over your head, can he? Perhaps he’s getting off on your suffering. 

Whatever the case, you loathe having to breathe the same air as him. You wish he’d fuck off already. 

You’ve barely spoken to one another since he made his threat. If it has to do with the upcoming job, you’ll give a few curt words and nothing more. He’s never been outgoing, so without you initiating conversation, hours trudge by in tense silence. You’ve recently made the unfortunate realization his input on your mother’s seal would be useful. He was under it for two years, there must be some information you can glean from him. You need anything you can get.

The thought of asking him for assistance, though… it makes you sick. 

“What?” he asks, his voice gravelly from unuse. 

You tense. He could tell you were looking at him without opening his eyes? 

“Nothing,” you reply. 

He grunts and that’s the end of it. You pull the holographic screen back up, eager to distract yourself. Except, all you can focus on is the #643 in the bottom left corner. You’ve already made that many attempts without any progress? One of Kafka’s contacts is going to help sneak this ship onto Rosiz in two days. You’re running out of time. 

You spare Blade a quick glance. Unsurprisingly, he hasn’t moved. 

Every muscle in your face scrunches up as if you’d bitten a lemon. 

Just get it over with, you tell yourself. 

“Blade?” 

He makes a noise to prove he heard you. 

“Can I… ask you a few questions?” 

“That depends on what they are.” 

You exhale shakily. “When your memories of me were sealed away, what did it feel like?” 

His mara murmurs, discontent at this reminder. He appears outwardly unaffected. 

“Why do you want to know?” 

You play with your skirt’s hem, picking at a loose thread. This is what you were afraid of. 

“Knowing will help me understand and replicate the seal better,” you explain. Then, you hastily add, “For the job.” 

All is silent. You shift in your seat. 

“That isn’t my concern,” is his eventual answer. 

Your jaw drops. “Wh— are you serious? You wouldn’t want to botch a job, would you?” 

“It wouldn’t be me ‘botching’ it,” Blade says, coolly, evenly. “It would be you.” 

You gnash your teeth together but bite your tongue. As callous as he’s acting, he isn’t wrong. He doesn’t owe you anything. Especially after you said what may have been the worst combination of words to him. You refuse to regret it, but you can follow the cause and effect. 

“You really don’t care about what’d happen?” You press, breathless. “Eris is my home. You lived there for months yourself, experienced the culture… does that mean nothing?” 

“Why do you ask questions you know you won’t like the answers to?”

Blade hasn’t so much as opened his eyes. You just don’t get it — you’ve peered inside his mind multiple times and still struggle to understand him. To what extent does he care about you, if that word even applies here? Does it stop at your physical well-being? Can his current nonchalance be attributed to your diatribe, or would he have acted this way regardless? He doesn’t make sense. He’s an enigma.

You decide to try another approach. 

“What about Nona? You’d still feel nothing then?” 

Finally, he opens his eyes. The warm hues feel cold. 

“I hold no ill will toward your student. I’d consider it a shame,” he says. Despite his impersonal word choice, he isn’t being sarcastic. That must mean something. Before you can expand on this, he smiles. It’s far from kind. “I see you’ve omitted your boyfriend from this thought exercise. A wise choice.” 

Your heart skips a beat.

Ah, fuck. 

“A word of advice, girl. Manipulation isn’t your forte.” 

It feels like a struggle between life and death to maintain eye contact. 

“Negotiation, though, you’re half-decent at,” Blade muses. He inclines his head to the side. “Well? Make me an offer.” 

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. What do you have to offer? In a business setting, you can lowball some figures, that’s how everyone starts. You doubt he’s interested in money or stocks. There’s your Synalink ability, but there’s no way he’ll put himself in a vulnerable position like that again. Everything’s been taken from you. Your business, assets, connections, leverage; all you have are the clothes on your back. Still, if he’s entertaining this conversation, there must be something. 

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin. “Are you… propositioning me?” 

“Oh? That’s how you’ve chosen to interpret it?” he raises an eyebrow. “If that’s your offer, I accept.” 

“No, I’m not—!”

“I know. Calm down,” he interrupts your panicked exclamation. “You’re easily rattled when exhausted.” 

Your heart’s pounding so loud in your ears that it’s difficult to hear him. 

“Relax. The next time I take you, I want you willing.” 

The next time? Is he delusional? Has he suffered long-term memory loss? You’d sooner saw off your hand than sleep with him ever again. You come dangerously close to voicing this, but ultimately decide against it. You need him in an agreeable mood. This seal — have you been set up for failure? You can’t imagine why they’d bother. Still, there’s no singular script, as per Elio’s own admission. It’s a string of possibilities loosely connected by little choices. If one script isn’t followed, that means another has taken center stage. 

Should you be unable to deliver, that future has been accounted for as well. 

It’s a future that can’t come to pass.

Blade speaks your name. 

“Come over here,” he says. 

Your eyes widen and lips part, horror painting itself across your countenance. 

He clicks his tongue. “Trust your own intuition. You said it yourself, didn’t you? That I’m ‘holding out.’”

You fight the urge to wince at the quotation. He’s the one who mentioned it, not you. This can’t count as an infraction on your behalf. Taking a deep breath, you start trekking over, counting each step. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen… ah, it didn’t take anywhere near long enough. 

He pats the spot beside him. Once you’re situated, an arm coils around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. Your heart thumps away. This is reminiscent of the evenings you spent together in your office and on the balcony. The high you received from sex would fade away, replaced by this nice, soft haze. Talkative as you were then, there was something about those moments that kept you quiet. You’re not sure why. 

Maybe it’s because you realized you’d finally met someone lonelier than yourself. 

“You’ve hardly eaten or slept. That I can understand,” Blade says. “What I don’t get, however, is why you haven’t cried.” 

“I can’t.” 

“You’re often on the verge of tears. Like now, for instance,” he points out. You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat. “Why not let it go?” 

Something already broken in you shatters beyond recognition.

“What good would that do?!” 

Your fingernails dig into your palms hard enough to bruise the sensitive flesh. 

“I’m nothing, I-I have nothing, I’m—” you laugh and laugh, making your throat feel scratchier than it already is. “I wanted to do so much…! I was stupid. So stupid! I actually thought that I could— could find a way to fix things, if only I kept working, kept trying! There isn’t a way. There never was a way. We’re greedy, we’re awful, we’re ignorant. A planet like that… a universe like this… so long as we’re in it, it’s fucked, it’s all fucked.” 

You shake your head. “I may have hated her, but I still wanted to be her. To outdo her. Prove that I could’ve done it better, that change was possible, so she’d have no excuse. I couldn’t do either. Even if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered. I’d just be delaying Eris’ inevitable fate like she did.”

Your shoulders heave with each painful breath you take. 

“Did she feel vindicated in the end? Think that by saving me once, it’d make up for all the times she didn’t?”

Whether you’re talking to him or yourself, you can’t tell anymore. It doesn’t make a difference. Speaking the truth aloud doesn’t make it any more or less real. It just leaves a bitter taste that’ll never go away. 

“If she cared so much, why did she never tell me?” You whisper, your voice cracking. “What was she so afraid of…?”

What was I so afraid of?

Tears trickle down your face in a free flow. The drizzle shifts to a torrential downpour, no matter how hard you try shaking or shutting it off. There’s no point in telling him this. You’ll probably regret it, somewhere down the line. 

You faintly register how your body moves without your input. Blinking the wetness in your eyelashes away as best as you can, you see gold patterns. There’s weight around your shoulders too. Weight and warmth. The scent of blood and anise. 

He’s pulled you into an embrace against his chest. 

You twist and jerk your limbs around, attempting to purchase freedom you can’t afford. You yell at him, curse him, beg him to let you go, and still, his grip never relents. He just holds you there, your struggles amounting to nothing, your pleas falling on deaf ears. His grip doesn’t feel tight until you try wriggling yourself out of it. Then, and only then, are you hit with the realization he could crush you so easily. It must take a great deal of self-restraint to avoid doing so. 

The fight leaves your body and you tremble like a leaf in the wind.

His large hand runs over your back, slow and steady, as if his touch were destined to soothe rather than destroy. 

Your well of tears runs dry eventually. 

“When you live for others, you’ll die for them too.”

Blade’s statement doesn’t make you feel better or worse. It washes over you without soaking in. Whether it’s a warning for you or condemnation for yourself, you don’t know. Perhaps the two overlap in an unsightly hybrid. 

Some time passes before he speaks again. 

“The day that man drew his weapon on you, I felt something stir, as rousing from a long slumber,” Blade reveals. “I assumed it should remain undisturbed.” 

This is your chance. You detach yourself from him enough to look him in the eyes. He loosens his grip just enough to allow this, but no more. The vice would tighten should you try extracting yourself further. You wipe away the moisture clinging to your lower eyelashes with your wrists. Since he’s sitting, he isn’t towering over you. This small detail aids your waning resolve. 

“What made you assume that?” 

His bandaged hand cups your tear-stained cheeks. You wince, but allow him his indulgence. 

“Instinct,” he murmurs. 

Your eyebrows pinch together as you think. That wasn’t what you were expecting. You guessed that’d it feel like something significant was missing — a gaping hole. That the individual would want to fill it. Curiosity is the sentient being’s natural state, after all. Especially since this should’ve been an element of itself the mind wishes to reinstitute. Yearning, affection, and care; even if it’s a vestige of the full experience, these positive emotions shouldn’t set off alarm bells. 

Unless the mind decided it was worth suppressing. 

Maybe your mother wasn’t using the influx of memories inflected on Blade as a ‘red herring.’ Kafka adores messing with you, she could’ve floated the idea because she knew you’d hear it in the future. What was your mother doing then? Pulling up key instances throughout Blade’s life, specifically those with heightened emotions and long-lasting influences… 

What if it’s not so much altering memories, but altering the mind’s perception of them? 

The Arbiter training software is bound to your movements, which allows it to manifest with a few hand gestures. The screen displays itself close to your right. You’d prefer to figure this out elsewhere, but Blade doesn’t appear interested in letting you go anytime soon. He silently observes as you pore over the generated psyche. You’re too focused to comment on how creepy he’s being. 

Liliana Kokot. 34. Short-life species. Citizen of the planet Punklorde. Witnessed the murder of her parents at a young age. Came to despise gang activity. Joined police academy. Assigned to the Homicide Unit by age 25. Discovered possible connections between the police chief and organized crime. 

You pull out the prismatic shard containing her parent’s murder. 

The mind has mechanisms to inhibit trauma that’d otherwise obliterate it. Repression, denial, projection, displacement, rationalization, and regression to name a few. In the same way, prisms have multiple sides. The one which refracts the most light will change depending on how it’s angled. 

You adjust the shard without changing its shape. Eventually, you find a side that deems this memory too much, beyond what Liliana can handle. It’s easily absorbed back alongside the other fragments. Except that now, the mind chooses to repress the memory, deep down in the subconscious where it cannot do irreparable harm. 

A ‘seal.’

“I get it now,” you wave the screen off. “It’s similar to a heart transplant. Mechanical valves aren’t integrated as smoothly as tissue valves. The body’s more willing to accept what’s similar to it in composition, as is the mind.” 

“You don’t look less troubled,” Blade notes. 

You scrunch up your nose. 

“I mean… this is— I don’t even know. It undermines what makes a person, well… who they are to the very core.” 

“When you accepted Elio’s deal, you knew you’d be an accessory to criminal activity. How is that any worse than homicide?” 

Blade’s refusal to sugarcoat the truth slashes through you like a phantasmal sword. Perhaps not a thousand times, but close enough. 

“This is your price, lotus.” 

You want to avert your gaze, but you don’t. It’d feel wrong, somehow. Cowardly. Hypocritical. 

No longer can you dwell on the currency itself. What matters now is ensuring you pay your dues on time. 

Your debt extends beyond Destiny’s Slave. There’s another proprietor you must settle with, for even the slightest peace of mind. 

“Blade— no, Yingxing,” you correct yourself. His muscles stiffen, his true name having gone unspoken for so long devoid of contempt. “I may have made a deal with Elio, but… I haven’t personally made one with you. I’d like to change that.” 

You can tell you’ve piqued his interest. 

“I swear on everything that is sacred to me that I’ll remain by your side until my final breath. In return, regardless of if I’m alive or dead, you’ll never harm my home or the people who inhabit it. Intentionally or otherwise.” 

His long, dark eyelashes flutter shut as he mulls over your proposal. He doesn’t take long. Soon enough, vermillion bores into you again. Candle wicks flicker inside them, alight with an emotion you refuse to name. 

“How do you finalize deals, Miss Phaeales?” Blade asks, moving aside a stray strand of hair from your face. 

It’s like the air’s been knocked from your lungs. He couldn’t have known, right? The ripples born when those two words are stitched together? Your chest feels tight and hollow all at once. It’s like your internal organs have liquified, leaving nothing but shapeless viscera. This isn’t the right voice. It should be softer, a tenor’s pitch, not a sonorous bass. 

“M-Miss Phaeales?”

You blink away a fresh set of tears. 

“A promise? Miss Phaeales, I don’t know if I can.”

“Hand me the dagger from before.” 

“I don’t really get you, Miss Phaeales, but… I wanna.”

He does, after a moment’s consideration. 

“It’s my fault, I should’ve killed that man, and now she’s in that criminal’s debt, because of me…!” 

You prick your pointer finger with the dagger’s tip, just enough to create trickling blood.

“Everything you just said — I can tell you believe it.”

He mirrors your actions. His skin quickly mends itself back together. 

“So why… why do you look so sad?”

I had so much to say, you think, bitterly. So, so much.

Blade’s bandaged hand falls to your lower back, where it softly pushes you forward. His gloved hand envelops your face, the leather refreshing against your feverish skin. His lips descend upon yours. You may have called the kiss tender had you known nothing about him. You do know him, however, as fate has decreed he’d get a better future at the cost of yours. It’s as if everyone was in on the joke, leaving you the odd one out. 

He murmurs words in between kisses that you fight desperately to unhear. 

When you pull back for air, you notice how madness surges and retreats in his eyes, as if it were ocean waves washing against the shore. 

The likeness helps. 

Pretending the red shade’s a brilliant blue instead comes easier. 

The next time he kisses you, you cautiously kiss back.  

A/N: i thought i'd feel satisfied when i finished nexus' last chapter, but i actually feel rather sad JTFSIKL i cannot overstate how much i enjoyed working on this story. it scratched a sci-fi itch i've had for over a decade now. when writing longer works, it's rare for me to not get caught on snags that sap my inspiration away. that never happened with this story though. from start to finish, i was contentedly tip tapping away on my keyboard.

i became enamored with this idea of a yandere story that didn't just revolve around the MC and yan, it just wasn't until i started outlining nexus that i had an excuse to explore this concept further.

the main cast of n darling, nona, and lear (an anon affectionately dubbed them the lotus trio, which is a term i loved enough to hijack) has become close to my heart. for that reason, writing this chapter physically hurt at times 😭 i wanted to swat blade away like a fly and have everything end nicely. from the very first sentence though, i knew this would be a tragedy, so it'd go against the Themes to pull a power of friendship ending.

at first, i worried about the reader's ability to empathize/connect with n darling, since her status and abilities aren't universal. like at all. the solution presented itself rather naturally. n darling, at least to me, stresses that simmering anger women feel the need to hide for professionality's sake. her experiences as a child where she's given responsibilities beyond her age's capacity, then in adulthood, where she isn't taken seriously (chrysus) or unintentionally infantilized (caicias). i'm sure many afab individuals can relate to some extent.

my primary interest was in having these two deeply frustrated individuals crash together and spill debris everywhere. i was given a little more liberty with blade's actions and dialogue, due to miss phaeales' id inducing presence, which drew out more than he'd normally give. as for blade's characterization, if he isn't in the throes of mara madness, i really can't see him being a hellion 24/7. he feels more somber to me when lucid.

of course, that changes if the right buttons are pressed... but that isn't exclusive to him.

since the final chapter is divided into three main scenes, i wanted to fully explore the three predominant ways i picture a yandere version of blade acting. the first is his guilt and shame, the second, his mara-induced sadism, and the third, a more neutral self where reason prevails.

i hope that you enjoyed reading nexus as much as i enjoyed writing it!! although the main storyline is finished, i'm by no means done with the universe as a whole. i'm planning a little epilogue for starters. then maybe some side stories from blade's perspective ?? who knows, the motivation's still there, so anything is possible.

thank you again 💖

-sincerely, lock.

Tag list: @99-nct @pixiestixes (idk why the tag thingy won't work but an effort was made) ...

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, drinking, cussing, oral (f receiving), p in v, squirting, creampie, dubcon, breeding kink, degradation, uh that's about it

Chapter 5:

According to the clock tacked up behind the bar it was past midnight. Your brother was still perched at the bar, knocking back moonshine and staring at you and Coryo. He's been watching the two of you all night go back and forth between the dance floor and a wall side table. Seeing you so enchanted by Private Snow along with being introduced to his fellow Peacekeepers pissed him off.

If it wasn't for Ashlie plying him with moonshine and reminding him with harsh whispers that he can't make a scene because she can't afford to lose her job, well, he would've started shit with Coryo. But, since he had booze flowing freely at his beck and call he decided to stay put on his bar stool. Plus, he has to admit, even in his inebriated state, that the family couldn't afford Ashlie to lose her job. Hell, it was bad enough that you lost your job.

And now your brother's starting to think that maybe the Doula running the apothecary shop fired you because she felt uneasy with Private Snow hanging around you. Hey, Rein knows that you had to meet him somewhere; it only makes sense that you met him in town. In the Merchant's Sector while working.

Your brother was over everything. He did his best to raise you, but you seem to be cut from the same cloth as your mother. Rein never liked his stepfather, Colonel Javanis Halvir, and he never told you about him or the truth about how he died. About how both of your parents died.

But if you keep hanging on Private Snow as if the sun shines out of his damn asshole then he might have to tell you the truth. As a scare tactic. A warning to stay away from the pretty boy peacekeeper that's wooing you with twisted words and pretty pearly white smiles.

“Stop staring at that peacekeeper like you want him to drop dead, Rein.” Ashlie ordered her longtime boyfriend in a long, drawn out huff. When her only reply from him was a squint of his Seam grey eyes, she sighed. Looking between your brother and you, as you sat on Coryo's lap sipping on moonshine, Ashlie told your brother, “I'll have a talk with her in the morning about him.” Patting his arm before going over to a customer, she added in, “I'm sure this is just a passing fancy.”

“If she's anything like my mom, well, it ain't just a passing fancy.” Rein slurred, knocking back his shine.

His eyes narrowed disapprovingly as he watched Coriolanus motioning for you to stand up; setting your shine jar down only to stand up after you. He couldn't make out what was being said, but it looks like Coriolanus and you are saying your goodbyes to a couple of his peacekeeper friends.

Goddamnit, he hopes you don't do anything stupid tonight.

You and Coryo walked back to your place from the Hobb side by side. In fact, he had his arm snaked around you; keeping you tightly glued to his hip. The smell of smoke and shine heavily lingered on the two of you. Even in the fresh summer's night air, the stench of the Hobb was heavily stained on you.

“Look, that's the North Star.” You pointed out the star that is used by sailor's and such for navigation. “I read that sailors and military men use it like a compass, if they don't have one, during the dead of night.” You explained, looking at Coriolanus with a smile as he looked up at the bright star shining in the black velvet sky. “It's also known as Polaris.”

“I've never seen it before, darling. The bright lights of the Capitol doesn't make stargazing very easy.”

“We can always lay in the meadow and stargaze sometime if you want.” You offered as you and Coryo continued on your way to your house.

“We'll do it one night, but not tonight.” Coriolanus told you. His breath was hot against your ear as he huskily said, “Tonight I'm going to show you how much I love you.” Pressing his lips to your temple, he crudely promised, “I'm going to fuck you so good tonight, baby.” Giving you a wide, eccentric grin, he added, “And it's all because I love you.”

You felt your heart racing a mile a minute in your chest at the implication of his words, his promise. Were you ready for that? To be fucked. Honestly, you weren't sure.

Coryo was so charming and nice to you. He’s also so devoted despite not being with you that long. And he claims to love you.

So why are you so nervous about his plans for tonight? Is it because you've never done that before or is it something else?

A sloppy wet kiss on your jawline, near your ear, accompanied by a deep husky question of, “You ready for me to make you mine tonight, baby girl?”, shook you out of your mental musings.

Worrying your lip, you slightly pulled away from your platinum blonde peacekeeper and honestly told him in a small nervous voice, “I dunno, Coryo. I've never…you know…been with anyone or been in love before.”

The peacekeeper stopped you both dead in your tracks, only to spin you around and take hold of your face. Squishing your cheeks in his large, calloused hands- his long fingers brushing into your hair, Coriolanus firmly told you with lust in his deep baritone, “I love you, Y/N, and you love me too. I'll always love you; tonight’s time for us to act on our feelings.” Pressing his forehead against yours, he promised, “If you're scared of me fucking you and leaving, don't be. I swear, I'll never leave you. Death itself can't even separate us.”

You still felt nervous, but his romantic words had you giving into his desire. Albeit relentlessly, you agreed to let him make you his tonight in every sense of the word. Your easy cooperation had Coriolanus grinning triumphantly from ear to ear.

Gesturing to your nearby house with a tilt of his head, your boyfriend suggested, “Let's get inside; make ourselves comfortable in your room.”

“Okay.” You simply nodded, although your heart was heavily beating against your ribcage.

You knew that as soon as you walked into your house and entered your room with Coryo that things between the two of you would never be the same again. That things would be serious and binding since he swore to never leave your side once he made love to you.

Well, he said the word fuck, but you'd prefer to say making love since it sounds better. Or at least to you it sounds less crude.

But in time Coryo’ll have you saying fuck too, cause he's not a ‘making love' type of man.

The only light in your small room came from the moonlight streaming in from the window. The silver light cast a glow on your naked body as you lay in bed, chest heaving as you wither under Coryo's touch. His head was between your shaky legs, which were slung haphazardly over his squared shoulders.

The only sound in the room was that of your wet pussy squelching obscenely as he fingered you, faster and faster, while using his tongue to flick and lick your clit.

“Coryo…” You mewled, feeling the coil tighten in your lower belly, as you fisted your faded white sheets.

Resting his head against your inner thigh, while continuing to pump his long fingers in and out of your cunt, he told you, “You're close, baby.” In between placing open mouth kisses along your inner thigh, he asked, “You want me to make you cum? Hmm, darling?”

Of course you want him to make you cum. Your head's spinning and your core’s throbbing. There's an itch inside of you that you desperately need scratched; Coryo's the only one that can do that for you. He's the one that has you teetering at the edge of an intense feeling you've never felt before. Of course you want, no need, him to tip you over the edge into nirvana.

“Yes.” You whine. Nodding your head rapidly, you babble, “Please, Coryo, please make me cum.”

Coriolanus' hot breath fans over the soft skin of your inner thigh as he chuckles, hearty and deep, at your response to his question. It amuses him how he has you, a sweet and innocent girl, squirming and begging under him like a seasoned wanton whore. Only for him tho.

Only for him.

Coriolanus moved his fingers faster inside of your tight wet hole while bringing his lips back to your clit. He sucked hard on the swollen bundle of nerves before using his prominent nose to press against it, hard, while running his tongue sloppily over your folds. He was lewdly eating your cunt with such hunger, such vigor.

Your sweet juices tasted heavenly to him. God, he swears you're the best pussy he's ever tasted; he can't get enough of you. He's literally inhaling you as he laps at your folds, sucking your nectar into his mouth as if it’s a magical elixir to cure everything wrong with him. His nose continues to press into your pearl, making friction that sets your nerves on fire. That paired with the curl of his rough fingers hard and fast against the special spongy spot inside of you and his tongue messily passing thru your puffy petals has you seeing stars.

You cum with his name falling from your lips like a prayer, legs quaking and squeezing around his head. Your head thrashes around on your pillow as he continues to eat your cunt while you ride out your high. Coryo's got his hand, the one that's not stuck inside of your pussy, firmly holding down your lower stomach; preventing you from bucking your hips.

As your breathing steadily evens out, the platinum peacekeeper pulls his fingers out of your cunt and lifts his head. Pressing a kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other, he tells you, “You've got such a sweet cunt, darling.” Pushing himself up, he raunchily smirks, “Sweeter than honey.”, before sucking your juices off of his fingers.

Your eyes are blown wide by lust and intrigue as you watch Coryo, kneeling between your spread legs in nothing, but his white boxers (which has a wet patch of pre-cum staining them), sucking on two of his long fingers with such erotic fervor. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat and your pussy grew wetter while watching Coryo's eyes flutter as his tongue swirled around his fingers; gathering up all of your juices.

Coriolanus pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a loud, wet pop. Moving off the bed and pulling down his boxers, he smirked, “You're so wet and ready for me, my darling.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head as you took in the sight of Coryo's cock. You've never seen one before, but by the looks of it, well, you knew his was big. It had to be at least 8 inches; was thick too with veins running alongside it. His tip was angry and red, leaking precum.

Coriolanus saw you warily eying up his cock as he took his place kneeling on the bed between your spread legs. Using his hand to spread his pre-cum on his length, to use as lube, he began to give himself a few prep pumps. All while darkly smirking, “Gonna split you open with my big cock, baby.”

Since Coryo's the only man you've ever been with, you're not used to dirty talk. It did turn you on, but you do feel a bit- dunno- flustered by it too. Everything felt like it was happening too fast. Yes, everything you're doing with him feels good, but…still…everything seems so rushed.

As if Coryo has to have you. Has to stake his claim on you.

Well, he does have a primal need to possess you; to own you, but you don't need to know that.

No…

All you need to know is that your boyfriend loves you; wants to show you how much by fucking your brains out and taking your virginity.

“Coryo, is this gonna hurt? I've heard it hurts the girl for the first time.” You ask, looking up into icy blue eyes with apprehension in yours; killing the mood for dirty talk.

Seeing you worried about him hurting you was like a dagger to Coriolanus' heart. He'd never hurt you (not intentionally that is) and he really wants you to enjoy sex. He doesn't want you shying away from it. Hell, he wants you to be comfortable with him fucking you 7 ways til Sunday.

Coryo stopped stroking his cock, only to take your wrists in his hands and place them on his shoulders, all the while giving you assurances of, “Y/N, baby, I won't hurt you. I know I'm big, but I prepped you; your wet enough so I'll just slide on in.”

Nodding, you ask, “Can you go slow?”

“Yea. I'll go slow, baby.” Coryo promised with a kiss before teasingly sliding his cockhead up and down your folds; bumping your clit once or twice too. Lining himself up with your tight hole, he said, “Just hold onto me and try not to be too loud. Yea?”

“Okay.” You nod with a timid smile, hands resting on his shoulders, as he holds onto your hip with his free hand.

Coryo pressed a lingering kiss to your lips before pushing his cock into your tight cunt. The feeling of his tip entering you and stretching you out for the first time stung. But it also felt good in a way that you couldn't describe. Your wet hole greedily sucked in his length as he slowly pushed into you.

Damn, does Coriolanus think that your tight cunt feels good around his cock. He wants nothing more than to just snap his hips and bottom out deep inside of your tight, wet canal, but he was holding back- barely- because you asked him to go slow. He'll do anything for you, because he's obsessed to the point where he wants to ball and chain you to him forever.

You feel every vein and very ridge of his hard cock as Coryo continues to push into you. Your hold on his shoulders tighten as you feel his tip press against your barrier. Biting your bottom lip, you brave yourself for the pain of having your barrier broken. But that pain never comes.

No, you just feel a sharp prick; a burning sting, as your cherry's popped. You do let out a strangled whine as Coryo pushes the rest of the way in; bottoming out and causing a large bulge to become visible in your lower stomach.

“You're such a good girl, darling. Taking me so well.” Coryo praised, looking down at where you're joined. “Look, baby.” He instructed. Pressing a hand to the bulge in your stomach; causing you to let out a throaty mewl, he proudly boasted, “Look how deep I am, how I'm in your womb.”

“Oh…” You trailed off, eyes wide with shock, as you listened to your boyfriend and looked down.

True enough, his cock was deep inside of you. You could see it protruding from your lower belly. It shocked you, mostly since you didn't know it was possible for him to be buried so deep inside of you.

���Fuck…” Coryo swore, his baritone heavy and thick with need. “You're cunt's so tight; feels so damn good around my cock.”

He tilted your chin up slightly, only to bend down and give you a kiss. A kiss that was fiery; full of passion and teeth. Pulling away, he grabbed a hold of your leg and hiked it up over his hip, only to slowly drag his cock out of your tight hole and push it back in again- starting the first movements of your fucking.

Coryo's pace was measured, but his thrusts were deep. With every move that he made, you're feeling pleasure start to bubble up inside of you. At some point, in an attempt to get him to go deeper, you hike up your other leg on his hip.

“Does my cock feel good pounding this pussy, baby? Hmm?” Coryo asked, grabbing a hold of your legs and folding them tightly into your chest. “Huh, baby? Am I fucking you good?” He asked, plunging in and out of you at a hard, fast pace.

Coryo knows, even if you don't, by the way your cunt’s twitching and clenching around his cock that you’re gonna be cumming soon. That your pussy’s fluttering cause she needs pounding; needs fucked hard and raw to drool and squirt out an orgasm.

“Yes, Coryo.” You nod, nails digging into his biceps as you feel your core ache with desire. “Yes, you're fucking me so good.”

“Your cunt's so greedy for my cock, baby.” He huskily told you. Leaning his head down, close to your ear, he whispers in a smug, but filthy tone, “Fuck, you're close again. I can feel that pussy clenching my cock, desperate to milk me dry.”

“Yea.” You desperately agree with him. Feeling the coil start to tighten in your lower belly, for the second time tonight, you plead, “Please, Coryo, make me cum again. Please.”

“Fuck, I love it when you beg for my cock like a wanton whore.” Coriolanus admitted, his tone hoarse with lust, as he looked down at you with undying desire in his blown pupils.

The only sounds in the room are your moans, the obscene sound of your wet squelching cunt, skin slapping against skin, and the creaking of your bed’s metal headboard banging against the wall as your boyfriend bends you like a pretzel. Coryo's pistoning in and out of your cunt so fast that his dog tags are starting to bounce between your chests; even smacking you in the face. Feeling bold, you grab his dog tags in your hand and pull him forward by them, only to lean up slightly and capture his lips in a needy kiss.

A kiss that you didn't even know you craved until you planted it on his lush lips.

Coriolanus let out a groan before hungrily kissing you back. Your kiss soon becomes a heated open mouth mess full of spittle trailing down your chins as he plows faster and faster into your cunt. Your lips trace over his, letting out a high pitch moan as you cum hard around his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck, that's so hot.” Coryo moans at the sight of you squirting, soaking his dick, thighs, and the sheets.

Coriolanus has heard of squirting, but has never seen it before. And now that he knows you're a squirter, well he loves you even more than he did before.

“Coryo, please, it's too much.” You begged, starting to feel overstimulation kick in for such an intense orgasm during your first time.

Coryo’s eyes narrowed as he snarled, “I'm not stopping and getting blue balls, Y/N. Just be a good girl and take it til I cum.”

His reaction took you aback. You honestly wasn't expecting it. You really thought that he'd pull out after you told him that it's getting to be too much for you.

“Coryo, I can't take it. It's too much; I’m too sensitive.” You try to reason with him.

But one thing you'll quickly learn is that there's no reasoning with Coryo. And that's a lesson you're learning right now.

Coryo rolled his icy eyes at you and shook his head before pausing his movements and pulling out of you. You thought that it was over, that he'd take care of himself or maybe even have you touch him, but you're wrong about that.

So wrong.

Instead, Coriolanus grabs you and roughly flips you over onto your stomach. Confused, your try to lift yourself up and look at him over your shoulder. “Coryo-” You begin to ask, only to be roughly shoved down into the mattress face first.

“Don't whine, baby.” The platinum blonde peacekeeper gruffly instruction while pulling up your hips. “I told you, Y/N, that you'll just have to take what I give you cause I'm not fucking getting blue balls tonight.” He sneered while roughly entering your oversensitive pussy in one sharp thrust.

You let out a loud cry, one that Coryo's afraid will wake up the entire neighborhood full of scumbags and gutter rats; send them running over to the sorry excuse of a wooden shack you're in. Bending down, causing the cool metal of his dog tags to brush against your bare back, he hisses right into your ear, “Shut up, bitch. We don't wanna get caught, now do we?”

Coryo didn't bother to straighten up his back. No, he just began pounding into you rough, hard, and fast. His cock was throbbing and he needed to cum. Badly. Right now he was pissed that you tried to push him off of you before he got the chance to shoot his load into your perfect, tight cunt and knock you up.

Hell, he knows you're a virgin, but he wasn't expecting you to get all whiny and panicky at overstimulation. Gods, he hopes you learn your lesson tonight when it comes to his dominance in bed- well while fucking in general cause he knows it's not going to be contained to just the bedroom.

You sobbed into your pillow, hair fanning you like a halo, and hands twisting into your sheets as Coryo pistons in and out of you at a brutal pace. You feel the tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every move he makes along with his cum heavy balls slapping against your puffy, swollen clit, making your cunt burn and ache.

“For whining about not being able to take it, your greedy lil tight cunt's clenching around my cock again.” Your boyfriend mockingky grunts in your ear, his fingers digging painfully into your hips. No doubt you'll have bruises marring them in the morning.

“Coryo…please…please…” You cried desperately into your pillow. Honestly, you're not even sure what you're begging for. Maybe some kind of relief from the intense pressure you're feeling? Yes, that has to be it.

You need relief from what you're currently feeling. The intense push-pull inside of you; the electricity coursing thru your core.

“Shut the fuck up. Damn, bitch, you want your brother to bust in here and pull me off ya ‘fore we both cum?” Coryo sneered, his deep timbre rough, heavy, and dripping with sin.

Fearing that you'd get him caught, since he had no idea if your family's home or not, he pulled you up by the nap of your neck and ordered in a whisper hiss, “Hold onto the headboard, now.”

You did as you're told, stretching your arms out and grabbing the metal rails of your headboard. Before you could even register what was going on, one of Coryo's large, calloused hands wrapped around one of yours while his other hand roughly covered your mouth- literally smothering you.

Your eyes are wide at the new position you find yourself in. Your mind’s overloaded by everything as Coryo picks up his fast, punishing pace pounding your pussy.

Everytime you try to whine or moan, your boyfriend clamps his hand down hard, muffling your cries and causing your jaw to ache. Your body's being jolted back and forth rapidly by Coryo's fast paced movements. Oh God, if you weren't bracing yourself by holding onto your bed frame your head would've been driven thru the thin wooden wall by now.

The cool metal of his dog tags dangles against your back as Coryo hunches over you, possessing your body for his pleasure. He's plowing roughly into you from behind, working both of you up to your orgasms.

He's panting and sweat’s beading his brow as he grits out, “I'm gonna cum, baby.” Feeling your cunt clamping and clenching around his cock, he orders, "You better cum too.”

One, two, three more rough thrusts and Coryo's biting into the crook of your neck, causing you to cry out a strangled sob as your final orgasm of the night hits you hard. His hand falls from your mouth and slips down to lightly squeeze your throat, as he shoots thick, hot ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

Instead of pulling out, he languidly snaps his hips; lazily fucking his seed into your womb.

“Shit, baby, think I just knocked you up?” He asks while gently strumming his thumb against the side of your throat while still keeping a loose grip around it. “You're gonna look so sexy, full and swollen with my baby.”

What the hell? He wants a baby?! Oh boy…Oh no…Oh boy…You weren't expecting to hear that. Suddenly you feel like you're sinking, that everything’s too much and you can't keep yourself afloat. Tears start to spill down your cheeks since you feel overwhelmed by everything.

Coryo stops his lazy movements and lets his now softening cock (which is still big) slip out of your abused hole. He smugly smirks as he watches a slight trickle of red tinted cum slowly falling from your cunt. His chest burns with pride as he sees the red smears on your thighs and his cock- the proof that he took your innocence. That you belong to him and only him from this moment forward.

Coriolanus realized that he pushed you too hard for your first time as he watched your body shaking with sobs. Sighing, he pries your hands off of your headboard and positions the two of you to lay on your bed under the thin blanket, your body tucked into his with your head resting on his chest.

“I know, baby. I know, it was a bit intense, but don't cry.” Coryo told you, wiping your tears away with the rough pad of this thumb. Rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back, he lovingly cooed, “You did such a good job taking what I gave, baby girl.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he did some damage control with a half-hearted apology of, “I'm sorry I pushed you so hard, Y/N. I just love you so much; got caught in the moment.” Softly stroking your cheek, he assured you, “I'll never do anything to purposely hurt you, my darling rose. I've just never been with a virgin before; forgot that you needed a softer touch once things got heated.”

You just nod your head and let Coryo calm you down; lull you into a dreamless sleep wrapped up in his arms.

Your brother, Rein, passed out a few feet from the door as soon as he stumbled into the house. He was so drunk on moonshine that it's a miracle he even made it home before passing out on the street. Which he's done a handful of times before.

Ashlie on the other hand was as sober as a judge and made her way to the bedroom she shares with your brother just fine. Only problem is that her bed’s pressed up against the wall that separates your bedrooms. Hell, your bed and her bed are actually against the same wall.

So, while your brother, Rein, was passed out on the floor snoring in a pile of his own drool (and most likely puke) his girlfriend, Ashlie, was stuck lying awake in bed listening to your platinum blonde peacekeeper boyfriend roughly fuck you and degrade you. It made the barmaid uncomfortable; made her feel bad for you. She feels like you deserve someone better than a peacekeeper that just views you as an easy piece of ass. So, she knows that tomorrow morning she needs to confront you about Coryo; make you a cup of bitter herb tea too- cause gods forbid you fall pregnant with Private Snow's bastard.

Except there's just one problem with Ashlie's assumption. Private Coriolanus Snow doesn't view you as an easy piece of ass; instead he views you as his soulmate. As the future mother of his children; the beautiful girl that he's going to marry and make his First Lady Snow.

To Coryo you're his girl and nothing's going to change that. Now that he's popped your cherry he's never letting you go. The devil himself couldn't tear the two of you apart.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @preteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[amalythea]

「 stars 」

⤷ info: kazuha, traveler, venti x gn!reader (separate) || angst-ish || wc: 1180

⤷ warnings: mentions of death (not reader), v sad thoughts, i tried to keep traveler themselves as gn as possible too but please do tell me if i missed something, writing for traveler actually killed my braincells

⤷ extra: i used the prompt xiv. “she’s talking to angels, counting the stars.” from @thexianzhoujade 's personal memoires (of the dearly beloved) event!!

kazuha.

In the tranquil solitude of the night, beneath the vast expanse of stars, you sat on the ground, your silhouette outlined by the gentle glow of moonlight as you gazed up at the stars above. Your heart ached with the weight of loss, your thoughts consumed by memories of your one love Kazuha.

Once, he had been the light of your life, his laughter like music to your ears, his gentle touch a source of comfort in times of need. But now, he was gone, taken from you by a cruel twist of fate, leaving behind only the echo of his presence and a void that seemed impossible to fill.

Every night, you would come to this secluded spot, the one you used to visit together, where the stars seemed to shine just a little brighter. It was here that you had shared your dreams, your hopes, and your love. And it was here that you felt closest to him, as if his spirit lingered among the celestial canvas above.

With a heavy heart, you whispered Kazuha's name into the stillness of the night, your voice barely louder than a breath. "Kazuha," you murmured, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Do you see the stars, my love? Are you watching over me from beyond the veil of the heavens?"

You closed your eyes, letting the memories wash over you like a gentle tide. You remembered the way Kazuha would hold your hand as you sat together beneath the night sky, his words a soothing balm to your troubled soul. And you remembered the promise you had made, to always be together, even when the world conspired to tear you apart.

But now, that promise lay shattered, scattered by the winds of fate. Kazuha was gone, his laughter silenced, his touch but a distant memory. And yet, you could not bring yourself to believe that he was truly lost forever.

For in the depths of your grief, there was a glimmer of hope, a belief that somehow, someway, Kazuha had found peace in the afterlife. You imagined him reunited with his dear friend, the two of them laughing and reminiscing beneath the eternal light of the stars.

And so, each night, you would come to this sacred place, your heart heavy with sorrow yet warm with the belief that Kazuha was watching over you, his love a guiding beacon in the darkness. And as you gazed up at the heavens above, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that wherever Kazuha was, he was not truly gone.

For as long as the stars continued to shine, so too would the memory of your love burn bright, illuminating the darkest corners of your soul and reminding you that even in death, your bond would never be broken.

traveler.

In Teyvat, where the winds whisper secrets and the stars tell tales of heroes, there once was a traveler from a distant world. This traveler had been searching for their sibling, and in the midst of their search had found someone else they cared for: you.

Your love knew no boundaries, spanning across the nations and beyond the reach of time itself. But fate, like a capricious deity, had other plans. Your lover, in their quest to protect the fragile balance of Teyvat, met their end in a valiant battle against a formidable foe. And as their spirit ascended, leaving behind a world engulfed in sorrow, you were left to wander Teyvat alone.

Every night, as the sky painted itself with the luminescence of countless stars, you would go up to the highest peak you could find. There, beneath the blanket of twinkling lights, you would sit, your heart heavy with longing, your eyes searching the heavens for a glimpse of your lover.

"They're among them," you would whisper to the ethereal void, your voice carrying both sorrow and hope. "My love, shining bright among the stars."

In those moments, you would feel a familiar warmth wrap around you, a fleeting sensation that whispered of your lover's enduring presence. You imagined them traversing the celestial expanse, a celestial wanderer among the constellations, watching over you with tender affection.

As time unfurled its tapestry, you found solace in your nightly ritual. The stars became your confidants, the silent witnesses to your whispered prayers and tearful confessions. And though your lover's physical form had departed, their essence lingered in the gentle caress of the night breeze and the shimmering radiance of the cosmos.

And as you gazed upon the heavens each night, your faith unshaken, you found solace in the belief that your lover had returned to their celestial home among the stars, finishing their search at last.

venti.

In Mondstadt, where the winds sing their eternal melodies and the stars dance in the night sky,

Venti, the mischievous bard of Mondstadt, was known for his jovial spirit and melodious songs that enchanted the hearts of all who listened. But amidst his carefree nature, there was one whose heart he held dearer than any other – his lover, a gentle soul whose love for Venti burned like the brightest star in the night sky.

Your love was as boundless as the vast expanse of the heavens, and together, you would spend countless nights beneath the vast expanse of the sky, nestled in each other's arms as you gazed up at the twinkling stars. Venti would weave tales of ancient myths and celestial wonders, his voice carrying across the night like a gentle breeze.

But fate, like the ever-changing winds, can be unpredictable.

One fateful day, Venti's song was silenced, his laughter stilled. News of his passing spread like wildfire, leaving behind a trail of sorrow that even the wind could not carry away. Your heart shattered into a million pieces, each shard a painful reminder of the void left by your beloved bard.

In the wake of Venti's passing, you found solace in the memories you had shared under the starlit sky. You would sit by the edge of the cliff overlooking Mondstadt, watching as the stars sparkled like fragments of Venti's soul scattered across the heavens.

In the quiet solitude of those nights, you would recall his words, spoken with a whimsical smile and a twinkle in his eyes. "If ever I should depart from this world," he had said, "fear not, for I shall join the stars themselves, and from there, I shall watch over you always."

And so, as you gazed up at the luminous tapestry above, you couldn't help but smile through your tears, for you believed with all your heart that Venti was among those celestial beings, guiding you with his eternal light.

Though the ache of loss never truly faded, you found comfort in the belief that Venti's spirit lived on in the stars, a constant reminder that your love was as infinite as the universe itself. And so, you continued to watch the stars every night, knowing that somewhere up there, Venti was watching over you, his laughter echoing in the celestial chorus that danced across the night sky.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[twstfanblog]

!*~Valentine's Times~*! pt 3

A/N: Here's the last half of the dorms! More world-building! Hope you enjoy it! The final part will be uploaded later on tonight, Happy Valentine's Day! Word Count: 7.9 (The Brick) Warnings: She/They Pronouns OC, Gets mildly spicy, swearing (Ortho gets ONE SWEAR) Pairings: Established poly (Yuu/Azul/Jamil/Malleus), Alluded Rook/Vil, Fake past relationship Rook/Yuu, Alluded Cater/Idia L (NRC Staff ft OCs). O (Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle). V (Here). E (Crack)

V is very, very extraordinary...

~SCARABIA~

The desert dorm was hot. But compared to the still nippy weather of the campus, Yuu welcomed the hot sun. Walking into the dorm's lounge area, Yuu looked at what could only be called ‘Craft Heaven’ or ‘Neat-Freak Hell’.

Construction paper, hot glue, and glitter were everywhere. No surface was seemingly uncovered by either paper scraps or stray blobs of paint. They just barely avoid stepping into the path of splattered yellow paint, eyes glaring at the half-apologetic student.

Things had nearly escalated before a pair of arms wrapped around their waist, picking them up and spinning them around as a joyful voice rang out.

“Yuu! I didn't know you were coming over!” Kalim laughs, taking care to place his friend in a cleaner area after taking note of their pretty white boots, “If I had known you were coming I'd have your Valentine ready to give to you! I just finished it so it's still wet…”

Yuu smiles, “Aw! You made me a Valentine? Kalim, you know I'm a taken harlot~.”

He laughs, hands proudly on his hips, “And you know I'm not looking! But! You are one of my dearest friends. It'd be wrong to not give you something on the day of love!”

Sniffling, Yuu wipes an imaginary tear from their cheek, “Kalim, you are my shining star.” 

Once the two had calmed their respective vibes, Yuu gestured around the dorm, “So, is this like a side hustle Scarabia has or is there a holiday tradition I'm missing?”

Kalim makes a questioning noise, then looks around the dorm before shaking his head and laughing, “OH! Naw. Lilia was pouting the other day about how he doesn't get ‘adorable’ homemade Valentine's Day cards anymore. So I had planned on gifting one to him and Cater at the exchange tonight. But then I wanted to make one for Jamil, then I couldn't leave you out of course, and then I had to make one for Azul, Malleus. The list just kinda grew!”

He gestures around to the other Scarabia members, only now did Yuu realize some weren't actually Scarabia students, “Everyone else saw me making them and wanted to join. So, we're having a last-minute craft party!” They both wince at seeing a spray of paint and glitter go flying through the air, “Yeah…Jamil’s in the kitchen making lunch for everyone. I'm in charge of cleaning this up before we leave for the exchange.”

“Well, Kalim I'm gonna make that harder for you, while also giving you a little treat.”

“Oh!?...” Kalim squints his eyes, brain catching the first part of Yuu's statement, “Wait, make this harder how? I'm happy for the treat but I don't want to make this even harder to clean up!”

“Gonna ignore the concern in your voice and give you the treat first. It's chocolate!”

Yuu pulls out a bag tied closed with white and burgundy ribbons. Inside were multiple colored gems, each glittering in the light through the plastic. He takes the bag, eyeing the gems with a focused stare. Only when he brought the bag closer did he fully see the ‘gems’ were simply chocolates luster-dusted in bright colors. He laughs, pulling a chocolate out to hold in the light.

“Ah! Clarity is bad, but the cut is very pleasing…”

“You are not evaluating my chocolate right now.”

“The colors are also pretty! Good saturation, a very pure hue…” Kalim brings the sweet to his mouth, eyes widening when he bites down to discover they were filled, “Oh! Coconut cream! Forget the grading, these are perfect!”

Yuu folded their arms, a smile winning the fight they put up to frown, “Okay, so with the grade they were bad, huh? You know what? Here.” They reach into their bag, pulling out a purple velvet bag with golden drawstrings, “That's for you.”

Kalim looked at the bag, opening it and raising an eyebrow as he stuck his hand inside, “What'd you get me-...” he pulled out his completely gold-coated hand, staring at it before he realized what he had in his possession,  “Yuu, did you give me a bag of gold dust?”

“Ye.”

“...” Kalim giggles, lightly bouncing on his heels as his eyes searched around the dorm, “Midas! Miiiiiiiidas~!” With his target seemingly found, Kalim raced off into the crowd of people, bag of luster dust and chocolates in firm hand.

Yuu wipes their hands of imaginary dust, turning on their heel and heading toward the kitchen. A part of them almost felt bad, the area near the kitchen was completely empty. Jamil must have been in Heaven, cooking in blissful solitude…

Jamil jumps hearing the doors of the kitchen swing open and slam against the wall, shoulders moving up to his ears only to feel every ounce of strength to tense leave his body at his date-mate's voice.

“Hi, Jamil~.”

They both stand in silence, Jamil still facing the stove before he sighed. Looking at them from the corner of his eye he mumbled out, untrusting that they appeared for a simple visit, “Hello.”

“Wow, Jamil. I can feel the love we share for one another pouring out of your fucking pores from here.”

Jamil sighs again, rolling his eyes so hard his head followed the movement, “Alright, let me try again…” He turns to Yuu fully, fluttering his eyelashes as he copied their earlier tone, “Hi, Yuu~.” he drops the flirty tone, raising an eyebrow, “Was that better?”

Yuu smiles, wrapping their arms around Jamil’s neck as they press against him, “Very.” A kiss, short and sweet as they let Jamil gently nudge them away from the stove.

Jamil subtly licked his lips, shoving Yuu lightly to one of the stools at the massive island, “Don't stand too close. You're in light colors and it'd do no good to get oil on yourself.” He goes back to tending the dish, flipping the meat by simply flicking his wrist, “If you came for lunch, it'll be at max an hour to wait.”

“What if I came to give you Valentine’s Day gifts instead?”

The look Jamil threw over his shoulder was disrespectful to the point Yuu hoped their future children would call Jamil out on it. They gasped, offended and miming they closed a coat around their body as they put on a thick accent, “Why I never! I came in here, alone, without a care in the world to give my loving boyfriend some chocolate I slaved over! And this is the thanks I get? Suspected of crimes that I would totally commit, but didn't?

“...” Jamil turned off the burner, grabbing a dishrag and cleaning off his hands in silence. He walks toward Yuu, hands quickly grabbing their hips when they try to step away from him. With a tired smile, he simply tilted his head to the side, “I love you. Have I ever told you that?”

“Don't sound so defeated when you say it. God, you make it sound like I wore you down!” They could barely contain their laughter, arms wrapping around his waist in a hug.

“That's because you did, you beat every ounce of fight out of me. Now, what did you bring me?”

Yuu had a hybrid of a pout and a smile on their face. Looking at Jamil’s tired expression before pulling out his bag of sweets, “I brought you chocolates. And they’re spicy, because I thought you would like that.”

Jamil holds the bag in his hand eyeing it passively. Tied off with burgundy and black ribbons, the chocolates inside were dark and shaped like gems. The edges of the chocolates painted with gold luster dust, burgundy and gold chocolate pearls scattered within the bag. The promised flavorings of dark chocolate and the Sriracha paste he had helped them make was a welcomed retreat he looked forward to.

He smiles, placing the chocolates on the counter and pulling Yuu fully into his embrace, “Thank you. Now sit down and do nothing.”

“I have another gift!”

The sigh Jamil let out was loud, giving his smiling date-mate a playful glare, “Yuu. My love. My hayati…I will not tolerate your bullshit today. If you cause trouble when my plate's full as it is, I will spank you.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time. But, no. You'll like this present, I swear.” They reach into their tote, pulling out what looked like a thick checkbook and holding it out to Jamil.

He raises an eyebrow, taking the booklet in hand and reading the dull red cover. “Jamil’s Cheat Checks” was on the front in gold script, flipping it open showed what seemed to be legitimate checks. The illusion was broken as the amount was pre-written as ‘Shut up and do as I say.’ He chuckles, checking each ticket to confirm they all said the same thing, “What is this?”

“Checks that when handed to me will make me stop all manner of shenanigans, hijinks, and/or funny hahas.”

“Wow. Even your funny hahas? The power you've bestowed upon me.” Jamil tucks the checkbook into the waist of his apron and presses another kiss to Yuu's lips, nodding his head toward the island before turning back to the stove, “Now sit. Food will be done in about 45 minutes and you can help me bring it out.”

“Yeah, yeah. I will do as asked and not spread my joyous presence to the masses.” Yuu sat on the other side of the island, resting their cheek on their hand as they smiled dreamily at Jamil, “I'll just sit here and daydream~.”

Jamil raises an eyebrow but goes back to prepping the food. But, the silence was short-lived, Yuu lasting at most a minute before they started to mimic the sound of a phone ringing. Jamil paid them no mind, focusing on getting another dish prepared for its final roast in one of the dorm's many ovens. He does look from the corner of his eyes as Yuu started to speak out loud,  just to see if they actually were on the phone.

Yuu's phone screen was black. Held in a way that it looked like they were talking, but made it easy to see the blank screen, “Yeah? No, I'm with Jamil. Yeah…I know.” They smiled at him, clearly catching him glancing at them, “He's so cute right?”

His eyes quickly turned back to the pan, a blush slowly growing worse and worse the longer Yuu ‘talked on the phone’

“I know right? Like, dude, how are you so handsome, talented, and intelligent? Can you be any more perfect?” Yuu internally cooed, watching Jamil’s shoulders raise higher and higher as the tips of his ears darkened with his blush.

“I can not wait to male wife him the fuck up.” The sound of Jamil’s accessories jingling as his head snapped around to glare at them was almost enough to make Yuu break, but they kept going. 

Jamil knew they were doing this because he was focused on cooking. He could see their phone, they weren't even holding it right. Yuu was simply waxing poetic behind his back because there was a whole island between them. His mind drifts to the tickets tucked against his hips and a part of him huffed in mild annoyance. They would make him use his present the second they gifted it to him.

Yuu watches Jamil grow more and more fidgety, listing off all the things they ‘had planned’ for when they were bound in holy matrimony. Romantic dates, quiet nights at home in each other's embrace, moments of passion. It was hard keeping the laugh out of their voice watching Jamil’s steadily quickening movements to place the crafted dish into the oven.

“Yeah. I just can't wait to be barefoot and pregnant-” they hear the hasty sound of an oven door slamming shut and ripping paper, “Hold on. I think Jamil wants something.” They place their phone down, turning to smile at Jamil, “Yeah, babes?”

Jamil held out one of the checks, glaring across the island with his cheeks flared, “You say that shit behind closed bedroom doors, not in the kitchen where anyone can hear it!”

Yuu sat patiently, blinking once before they pointed to the ticket, “You know you have to hand that to me right?”

…

His eyes narrow, moving to walk around the island only to stop as he watches Yuu mirror his movements. Every step he took toward them, they would move away. Jamil glared over the counter, the two of them now on opposite sides from where they started, “Really?” He couldn't fight the smirk on his face.

“Yeah, you really have to hand me the ticket, Jamil.” Yuu wiggled their eyebrows, a challenge ringing clear that even with the tickets they would never go down without a struggle.

Jamil clicks his tongue, untying his apron and slapping it on the counter. They stood still, eyes locked in a stalemate before he quickly faked left and then darted to the right of the island.

Yuu barely kept themselves from falling as they fled, the distance between them kept steady as Yuu yelled out, “Jamil! You're in sandals, I'm in heels! This isn't good for either of our ankles!”

“Take the damn ticket!”

“You have to hand it to me!”

They made a few complete circles around the island before Jamil threw caution and ‘playing fair’ to the sands. He braced his hands onto the counter, jumping and quickly scrambling across the island and managing to grip a screaming Yuu by the back of their overalls. They both fall to the ground, the sounds of Yuu's panicked scream laughter bouncing off the walls. The sound of a heavy ‘SMACK’ turning their laughter soon into breathless moans and the sounds of heavy kissing.

The door clicks open. Kalim walked in, a handprint of gold smeared across his face and more dust coating his hair and clothing, “Hey, Yuu. Is this stuff edible? I think I-Ah! AAAAH!” He quickly turned back to the door, trying to flee after catching a glimpse of Yuu and Jamil lip locked and fully grinding against each other on the floor, “STOP DOING THIS IN THE KITCHEN!”

~POMEFIORE~

Vil looked at the mess before him, glaring with his eyeliner brush hanging almost limp in his hand. Yuu stood in his doorway, sheepishly tugging at their shirt edge to hide the various bite marks along their collar. He could tell their hair was curled, but the state it was in now left it nothing more than a fizzy manhandled mess. By the Seven, their makeup. Smeared and blotchy, nothing more than an utter sabotage of the beauty community. 

Sighing, Vil sat down his eyeliner brush. Motioning them into the room as he opened his drawer to gather makeup closer to Yuu’s skin tone, “You were either mauled or you went to one of your lovers before walking in here looking so unkempt. Which one was it?”

“Jamil…” Yuu drags the ottoman closer to his vanity, sitting down and placing their tote on the ground, “And all I can say is that he actually looks more fucked up than I do.”

The third year reaches out to hold a frizzled tassel of Yuu's hair with two of his fingers, face pinched, “I highly doubt that…though I will commend him for still leaving bites and hickeys with that choker you have on.”

“Can you fix it?”

“I shouldn’t, in the hope that this will teach you a lesson in restraint,” He grounds out, already pulling Yuu’s hair out of its half ponytail gently and taking a brush to it, “But, I’d feel worse letting you walk around like this. I have very little authority over you as your club leader but I expect all under my care to look their best at all times.”

Yuu smiles, letting Vil do his favorite activity of priming others, “Thank you, big brother.” They will agree the laugh they let out was ‘gremlin’ adjacent, closing their eyes on Vil’s command as he poured his mineral water onto a towel.

Vil grumbles but takes care to remove the smeared pigment from Yuu’s face, “Honestly. I don’t know what’s worse. You spreading rumors that we’re family or the fact my own father sent you a Valentine’s basket along with mine…”

“One of those is mine!?” Yuu looks away from Vil, eyes glittering to the two large red and pink-toned baskets sitting on Vil’s bed, “Aw~! That’s nice.”

Vil quickly moved Yuu’s face back to him, frowning at the fact he nearly poked the younger student in the eye when they moved. “Stop moving…” His glare intensifies, staring at reddish spots dotted along their cheeks, “Are you breaking out? Why are you breaking out? Honestly, I make you a personal blend of skincare and you don’t even use it.”

 Yuu waves his words off, rolling their eyes, “I’ve been stressed! I spent the last few weeks trying to perfect chocolate molds and fruit fillings. Also, pretty sure standing over a pot of boiling sugar wasn’t good for my skin…”

Vil snaps his fingers, pointing upward, “Look up.” He ignores Yuu groaning, applying a few drops of his handmade blemish eraser serum, “Honestly, why are you so stressed about it? I understand you have three lovers but that shouldn’t be too much for you to handle.”

“Oh. Naw, I made chocolate for all my favs, not just them.” They rubbed the serum into their cheeks, humming lightly at the scent of lavender.

“...” When Yuu doesn’t say anything more, he frowns. Turning to his gathered makeup he mumbles while applying their foundation, “Well, I see how it is…”

“I don’t wanna give you your chocolates now. You’re way more of a bitch to me when it’s just the two of us.”

“Oh, so you did make me chocolate? Color me surprised, I would think you’d leave me out from ‘sibling spite’...”

Yuu groans, reaching into their tote but not pulling the bag out, “You can’t be mean to me about these, okay? I worked really hard on them.”

Vil rolls his eyes, turning his full attention to them with a raised brow, “Fine. If they’re horrible I will simply remain silent.”

“...” Yuu pulls out a bag tied off with purple and gold ribbons, the bow multiple loops and grand. The chocolates inside were dark chocolate and shaped like crowns, half of them luster-dusted with gold and purple chocolate pearls scattered inside, “I filled them with raspberry. Like, the saddest raspberry filling. I didn’t add sugar past what was needed to help keep it edible after thickening it.”

Vil takes the bag, eyeing it silently before he places it on a free shelf of his vanity. He gives a brief yet fond look to the chocolates before making sure their foundation was properly blended, “They look very nice. Where did you learn to tie a knot that intricate?”

Yuu breathed a sigh of relief, “Tulip did the bows, mine weren’t good enough it seems…”  They already knew getting Vil chocolates would be a gamble. The star was hyper-aware of nearly every calorie he took in. They had honestly entertained the idea of getting him a celery bouquet instead, “I’m glad you like them though.”

“Ah…Tulip…” Vil did his best to not pull a face at the mention of the over zealous fairy. “The chocolates are cute. I’ll try them later tonight and give my full review.” He smiles, holding up two eye shadow palettes. One was centered around reds and darker tones, the other had more pink options and various glitters, “Now pick your eyeshadow.”

“Oo~! I want a glittery smokey eye.”

Vil worked fast, redoing Yuu’s makeup faster than they had done it themselves. Taking the time to paint small hearts along their cheeks, over where their tiny red spots would be. Saving their eyeliner for last, he hums at his project and gestures for them to look into the mirror, “There we go. Two fat little wings, just as you like.”

Yuu lets out an ‘Ooo’, fluttering their eyelashes and winking just to watch the glitter on their lids, “I love it! And don’t hate on my ‘fat wing’ liner style. I say nothing about you staining your skin with the darkest eyeshadow every day.”

“Get out of my room.”

“No, give me my gift basket.”

Vil turns back to the mirror, eyeliner brush back in hand as he applies his own wings to a ‘proper’ length, “No, it’s mine now since you want to be rude to me.”

Yuu frowns, crossing their arms and intentionally making their voice whiney, “But you said dad got it for meeeeeee.”

“We aren’t siblings-”

The door bursts open, making both of them jump at the loud cry of “BONJOUR~!”

“Hi, Rook~!”

“Mon vieille amor~!” The Florian quickly walks into the room, dropping to one knee in front of Yuu and presenting them with a small bouquet of roses, “For the brightest flame of my past! Roses as bloomed as your wedding bouquet, pink as the twilight from the night sky of our first dance.”

Yuu gasps, taking the gathering of pink flowers into their arms, “Oh, Rook! Just like our 20th anniversary~! I’m so glad you remembered!” they reach into their tote bag, pulling out a mason jar filled with pink and gold chocolate pearls. The bag was tied off with purple and black ribbons, plastic keeping the chocolate sculpted roses safe, “Chocolate roses, for the man who taught me how to love.”

Rook takes the jar gently, smiling as he opens it immediately. He takes a petal from one of the roses, placing it in his mouth, “They love me…” He takes another petal into his mouth, “They love me not~ Beauté! 1000 points for this gift of love, mon vieille amor!” with the jar in one hand, he wrapped the other around Yuu’s waist to pull them closer to place them in a faux dip. He makes loud, borderline obnoxious kissing sounds as he mimes pecking along a giggling Yuu’s face.

Vil glared at them, a jagged line of black from the corner of his eye and down his cheek. He turns back to the mirror, pouring more mineral water onto a towel, “Both of you get out of my room…”

“Vil, stop being so jealous. Me and Rook are so in the past, but we were married for 40 years. It’d feel weird to not get each other something for Valentine’s Day.”

“You two. Never dated…”

Rook stood, placing Yuu up right beside him with a hand over his heart, “Oh, mon roi. My and Yuu’s love was true and deep. 40 years of affection, a son, and a lifelong companionship to stand the test of time.”

“You’re both under 20, your ‘son’ is a bird, and you didn’t meet until this year. The joke is old.”

Yuu clicks their tongue, shaking their head before resting it on Rook’s chest, “You just don’t get it, Vil…”

“Oh, no. I get it. My boyfriend and my little sister are both infected with the same brain-eating virus-”

“HA!” Yuu pulls away from Rook, pointing at Vil’s frowning face, “You called me your sister! Sibling bond, you BITCH!”

“I WILL-”

“Why is everybody yellin’ in here?” Epel stood in the open doorway, looking at the scene in front of him. He raises an eyebrow at Vil’s appearance, the third-year with one side of his face completely bare, “You…you doing something new and stupid with your face?”

Vil scowls, “Epel, I will make you sit at my and Rook’s table the whole party.”

Epel looks to the side, beads of sweat forming on his temple as he internally panics, “Never mind. I love it.” He turns and waves, eyes pleading for Yuu to help take Vil’s glare off of him, “Hey, Yuu! What are you doing here? Let’s talk about it!”

“Actually, I’m leaving. But here you go!” They reach into their tote, pulling out a bag tied closed with purple and red ribbons. 

Throwing it to Epel, the other first-year had to rush forward to keep it from falling to the ground. He holds the bag to his face, tilting his head at the red luster-dusted and milk chocolates in the shape of apples. Green beads of chocolate scattered in the bag, “Oh! You even made them apple-shaped. Thanks, Yuu.”

“Thank you for the apple cider. I used it to make the caramel I filled your chocolates with.”

Epels eyes widened, quickly opening the bag to grab a chocolate to try, “Hot damn! That sounds fuckin’ sweet-”

Vil glares at Epel through the mirror, finally painting his second wing properly, “Epel…”

“Thank you, I’m very excited to try it…”

Yuu snickers, “Did you forget he was in the room? Anyway. Pomefiore boys, thank you for hosting me, but I still got a few stops to make before I gotta head back to Ramshackle and get ready for the party.”

“...” Vil sighs, pointing to the gift baskets on his bed, “The red one is yours. You can take one thing from it.”

The squeal Yuu lets out is giddy, bordering on ear-splitting. They rushed toward the bag and made sure to open it as carefully as possible. Opening the basket to see a plethora of nail polishes and beauty products, “Aw! Mr. Shoenhiet really doesn’t do anything in half does he?” Yuu pulls out a dark red lip gloss, opening it to apply to their lips.

Vil smirks, seeing Yuu had picked the lipgloss he had personally advised his father to get for them when the man had asked what Yuu would like in their basket, “Of course he doesn’t. He’s my father after all.”

~IGNIHYDE~

Ignihyde didn't even bother decorating, nothing past the holographic screens showing a loop of hearts. Even then, they were the basic dorm blue, nothing even red. Though Yuu did see the tables were adorned by fresh flowers and pomegranates. They looked around the empty lounge, walking closer to a table to pick a fruit for themselves. Only to jump at seeing multiple bright dots appear on their hand and a disembodied voice ring out.

“Prefect Yuu, do not take the fruit. I repeat. Do not take the fruit.”

“Ortho, what the fuck my guy?” They pull their hand away, both hands placed beside their head as they looked around the room in panic.

Ortho appeared from a hallway, at least looking mildly sheepish as he floated closer, “Sorry! I forget at times you're not from here and don't know traditions.”

“It's tradition to try to shoot a bitch getting some fruit?”

“...” Ortho looks to the side, “Well…the shooting is more so my choice. But still! Taking the fruit is bad!”

Yuu sighed, throwing their head back but waving a hand as if to say ‘Go on’.

“The fruit and flowers are offerings. Hades was one of the longer lived Great Seven, so there's a number of stories about him. One of which was about his wife.”

“Ah. Persephone right?”

“Yes!” Ortho closes his eyes to show he was smiling, “Hades loved his wife dearly even though they were separated multiple times in their marriage. The offerings started out in the warmer months when Persephone and Hades were separated. The flowers to keep Hades in good spirits and the pomegranates to remind Persephone of her husband. But once the Queen's Marriage Anniversary was adapted outside of the Queendom of Roses, it also became tradition to offer both! As a way of gifting the lovers on this day of love and appreciation.”

“Aw…that's actually really cute…”

“I agree.” Ortho narrows his eyes, wagging his finger at Yuu in mock scolding, “So no taking any fruit or flowers! It's very rude to steal from a God.”

Yuu giggles, nodding their head, “Noted. Also…” They take a step forward, wrapping their arms around Ortho's body and pressing a kiss right below his eye before pulling away, “Happy Valentine's Day!”

Ortho stood still for a moment before he rocketed back into Yuu's arms, nearly lifting them off their feet from the force of his hug, “Happy Valentine's Day, Prefect Yuu! Thank you for the kiss! I've now collected three kisses!”

“Three?”

“Yes! Nii-San, Cater Diamond, and now Prefect Yuu! I feel very loved!”

“Aw. Well you're gonna feel a lot more love, baby boy.” Yuu reaches into their tote bag, pulling out a heart printed wrapped gift tied with white and blue ribbons, “A gift for you. Since you can't eat…”

Ortho's eyes were so bright Yuu was afraid they'd burn a hole through the box. The android took the package with care, “Thank you so much! May I open it now?”

“Go ahead!”

With almost surgical precision, Ortho unwrapped the gift and gently placed the folded paper and ribbons to the side. His eyes scan the box; a children's ‘make your own candy’ science kit. He flips the box over, reading the list of ingredients included in the kit. Once he was done, he looked into Yuu's eyes, “Prefect Yuu, may I swear?”

Yuu chokes on their laugh, but smiles and nods, “Yeah…yeah let it rip, buddy…”

“Prefect Yuu, this kit is shit.”

“I know…I know…” Yuu laughs at the bewildered look Ortho gives them, his eyes going from reading over the kit to squinting at them, “Look. I got it because while the candy is…barely edible, the kits are fun! You've got access to actual chemicals and stuff that you could use to make them taste better anyway.”

Ortho looks at the kit, calculating the few things he'd need to gather to make the potential candies in a greater quality, “That's true.”

“Plus! You can make fun gummies for Idia to try and like…slip a multivitamin or something in them.”

“I love it, thank you so much.” Ortho hugs the box to his chest, already coming up with numerous candies his brother would like. He perks up, eyes glittering when he realized Yuu hadn’t left, “Do you…Did you bring chocolates for Nii-San?”

Yuu nodded, patting their tote, “I did.”

The halls passed by in a blur, Ortho had picked Yuu up and flown as fast as he safely could to the housewarden’s door. Yuu had barely realized where they were before Ortho was knocking on the door at a rapid pace, “Nii-san, may we come in!?”

A quiet voice calls out from inside the room, “We…?”

Yuu smiles, calling out so that Idia knew who was with Ortho, “Are you decent?”

The voice calls out again, louder and with an edge of panic, “YOU CAN’T COME IN!”

Yuu nods at Ortho, “I think he’s decent.” 

They reach and swing the door open, smiling at seeing Cater look up from Idia’s bed and remove one of his earphones, “Sup?”

“No…Ortho why do you do this to me…?” Idia curled into his gaming chair, pulling his hood over his head as though if he could hide from Yuu’s sight they would have forgotten he was even there, “It was a good day…I got a free day from classes…Cater brought me candy…I didn’t see that fucking thing…”

“This ‘fucking thing’ has ears and the power to beat your ass.” Yuu smiles, reaching into their tote, “But I’m gonna let you get back to your day and just give you your chocolates. Catch!” They threw the bag, purposefully making it land against Idia’s keyboard.

Idia looks at the baggie, bright blue and black ribbons tying it closed with milk and white chocolate skulls inside with multi-colored gummies that looked like the buttons of a game controller. He brings the bag closer, eyes roaming to see if he saw anything truly hazardous in the bag. Like…a carrot…or broken glass…or a scorpion. But seeing nothing, he brought the bag closer to his chest and looked over at Yuu.

“I don’t know if this item drop showing our friendship…makes me fear you less or more…”

“Pick whichever one makes you feel safest.”

“...” Idia opens the bag, digging through the bag for one of the bright blue buttons, “It makes me fear you more.”

“That was the right answer. Ok! I gotta GO! Love you guys, see you at the party. Bye~...” Their ‘bye’ was heard as they ran down the hall, only ending at the sound of the dorms front doors slamming shut.

Idia turned to Ortho, frowning mildly at his beaming brother, “Why do you keep letting her into my room…?”

“Well, Nii-san. You refuse to leave your room. So I have to bring people to your room.”

Cater speaks up from the bed, placing his ear phones back as he nodded, “You gotta get that enrichment babe…”

“...” Idia turned to his computer, typing into the search bar, ‘How to tell if you are being bullied’.

~DIASOMNIA~

“I'm sorry, run that by me one more time?”

The diasomnia student sneered down his nose at them, sword held out to clash with the other student guarding the rope bridge to the dorm, “You heard me you harlot. You are no longer welcome in the grand Noble dorm of Diasomnia. Take your swill and be off!”

“...” Yuu nods their head, raising their eyebrows and pursing their lips, “Okay.” They turn on their heel walking away from the stunned students.

As Yuu was a good distance away yet still in the dorm, the more spiteful student smiled at his fellow guard, “S-see!? I told you. There was never a need to fear that wench, she only got away with everything she did because Lord Malleus favored her. Now that he doesn’t, she’s powerless!”

He continued on, boasting about how their dorm leader had finally seen that a magicless human wasn’t worthy of his affections. But during his speech, the silent guard kept his eyes on Yuu. The Ramshackle prefect didn't even walk toward the mirror when they left, only a few paces off to the side of the path. He watched silently as they knelt down, pulling festive bags from their massive tote and even a bouquet of flowers.

Then he felt a shiver go down his spine as he watched them fill the now empty tote with rocks.

Silver looks up hearing the doors open, blinking in mild confusion at who walked through them, “Yuu?”

Yuu was smiling, pulling a sizable rock out of their tote bag and dropping it outside the door, “Hey Silver! Um. If you think you see two unconscious bodies over by the bridge, no you don't.”

“What?”

“Happy Valentine's day!” Yuu was quick to pull out a plastic bag tied close with silver and bright green ribbons.

He takes it slowly, eyeing the dark chocolate shapes of swords and Z's with green and light purple chocolate pearls scattered in the bag. Opening it, he was greeted with the strong scent of espresso, “Oh. Coffee flavored?”

“Espresso cream filled. Thought you could put them in your coffee for an extra boost!” They look around the dorm lounge, eyes roaming, “While I adore you Silver, where is Malleus?”

Silver remained silent, putting a small sword into his mouth and chewing, “...It's good…”

“...Okay. You enjoy your chocolate, I'm gonna go hunt my boyfriend down.”

A nod was all Silver gave, stepping to the side to show he wasn't going to stop them, “Bye, Yuu.”

The dorm was filled with distrusting eyes, more so than normally. Yuu didn't bother asking any of them where Malleus was since they probably would have the same response as the guards. And sadly they don't have any more rocks in their bag. They sigh in a hallway, hands on their hips and looking around the room one last time.

“Beastie!”

Yuu felt a tap on their left shoulder, turning to the right as they knew Lilia's tricks. But, instead of seeing Lilia they see open air. They sigh, turning back around only to jump back as Lilia's face suddenly dropped into view, “AH! FUCK LILIA!” They braced themselves against the wall, catching their breath as Lilia giggled behind them, “Stop doing that…”

Lilia floats closer, smiling as he pats Yuu’s head, “Stop having such adorable reactions. What brings you to Diasomnia, dearie?”

“I’m passing out chocolates to my favorites and looking for Malleus.”

Lilia's eyes widen, humming loudly as he looks to the side, “Well, I can accept the chocolate and give you Malleus's location. But, you'll have to deal with him and Sebek alone…”

“Oh, Sebek is never an issue for me. While I have you, can you tell me what the fuck is wrong with Malleus?”

“...” Lilia smiles, tilting his head so far it made his whole body start to slowly spin in the air, “You said you brought chocolate?”

Yuu groans, but still reaches into their tote to pull out a baggie tied off with bright green and pink ribbons. Dark chocolate in the shape of bats and green chocolate pearls filling the bag.

Lilia squeals out in delight, taking the bag and opening it, “Oh, Beastie! I didn't think you'd actually bring little old me chocolate.” He coos lightly at the bat between his fingers, biting into it and nearly choking, “...Did you fill this with tomato paste?”

“More so a tomato jam…but basically…” they raise an eyebrow, “Are you going to tell me what's going on with Malleus?”

“Hmmm…” Lilia grabbed another chocolate, eating it whole and chewing, “Such an interesting flavor combination…I quite like it!”

“Okay, fuck you guys. But seriously. I've been so busy running around all day and I only, like…noticed that Malleus hasn't talked to me all day? Is he sick?”

“Hmmm. These chocolates are so good!”

Yuu frowns, reaching into their tote and pulling out another bag, “Just because I'm annoyed. Here.” They shove the bag into Lilia's chest, walking away as the older fae looks in confusion.

When he realizes what's in the bag, he frowns. Pastel colored shapes of a bat, a sword, a crocodile, and a dragon all cut out from marshmallow. He sticks his tongue out and turns around to yell after Yuu, “These are cute but you know I dislike marshmallows!”

Looking over their shoulder, Yuu yells back, “That's not my problem!” They continued walking, ignoring Lilia muttering under his breath if he'd be able to regift the marshmallows to Silver.

As expected, Sebek stood at attention in front of Malleus's door. They make eye contact, Sebek's eyes narrowing instantly upon seeing them.

“Yuu.”

“Sebek.” Yuu folded their arms, raising an eyebrow at the half-fae, “So…move.”

Sebek sniffs, turning his head to look away from them, “I don't take orders from you.”

“I know you don't. But, real quick, how are your kidneys doing? They doing ok?”

“If you're trying to start a fight-”

“I would bust your kidneys a second time. But, no, I'm not here for that. Lilia told me to come find you.”

“...” Sebek tilted his head, a sneer lifting one side of his lip, “Do you truly think I'm that stupid?”

“I do think you're dumb, but Lilia seriously asked me to come find you. He needs help finding his phone.”

Sebek simply sniffed again, turning his nose up at them. He even widened his stance and remained unmoved in front of Malleus's door.

“...” Yuu shrugs, turning around and walking away with a wave over their shoulder, “Fine. I'll just make sure Lilia knows you don't care about his problems.” They counted in their head, smirking when they heard Sebek groan.

“Fine! But, you’re coming with me-” The moment Sebek had walked beside Yuu, he choked, feeling them yank the back of his collar harshly. The kick to the back of his knee sent him down, aheap on the floor and then being blinded by being hit in the face with a plastic bag.

He only looked at the bag for a few moments, tied off with green and yellow ribbons. Milk chocolate lightning bolts, what looked to be gummy green crocodiles, and green chocolate pearls. That ingrate had assaulted him with festive chocolates. He tried to roll to his feet quickly, glaring up at the human running back down the hall toward Malleus’s room, “YUU!”

“Caught you lackin’!” Yuu had already reached Malleus’s door, smiling and holding up their fingers to form a heart, “Love you, bitch~.” They open the door, managing to slam and lock it just before Sebek had reached them. Smiling with a wicked glee seeing the door shake from the force of Sebek slamming against it.

The room was dim, but it normally was. Having night vision apparently made the goth aesthetic too easy to fall into. Lucky for Yuu, Malleus was always easy to find. The pair of glowing eyes in the corner at his desk giving away his location. 

“Hi Malleus. I haven't heard from you today, I was getting worried. You feeling okay?”

Strangely, Malleus doesn't respond. His only reply was to deepen his frown, eyes looking to the side in dismissal.

“...” Yuu blinked, placing their hands on their hips as they looked around the room in confusion, “Why…are you pouting? What happened?”

“...” Malleus sniffs, frown turning into a mild scowl as he fully turns his body away from them. Though Yuu was able to tell he was still watching them from the mirror with his eyes.

“...Are you ignoring me!?” Yuu couldn't stop the half-offended guffaw they let out that nearly caused them to choke. Malleus had responded by flipping a tassel of his hair over his shoulder. “The fuck did I do!?”

Was he pouting because they wouldn't let him come to Ramshackle the past week? Or maybe there was a certain fae etiquette that they hadn't done and now he was upset by it. They walked up to the pouting mage, trying to catch his eyes though he kept turning away from them. Soon they had straddled him in the chair, forcing eye contact.

“Ok. Talk to me. I can't make it up to you if I don't know what I did babes…”

He scoffs, “Oh, it's so trivial that you've forgotten what you did? Timothy surely hasn't…”

Yuu snorts, looking away when Malleus snaps his head to glare at them. It takes them a good few moments to compose themselves, but when they do they place their hands on Malleus’s cheeks. Squishing the cool flesh to make his pout even cuter, “You’re jealous…of Timothy?”

“You kissed him…” Malleus’s glare softened, turning his expression more into a kicked puppy than the annoyed dragon he was, “How could you bestow a kiss to him before me? It’s a grave error at worst and a slight at best…”

“...” Yuu’s hands left Malleus’s cheeks, not saying anything to his expression becoming even sadder. Instead they looked around their tote, pulling out a single item and placing it in Malleus’s hand.

Malleus looks into his palm, a drop wrapped in shiny aluminum with a paper tail sticking out of the top. He blinks, looking at Yuu in confusion as they leaned against his shoulder with a mischievous smile, “What is this?”

“A kiss.” Yuu’s smile widens as Malleus seemed to realize his mistake, turning away with a small blush rising to his cheeks. But they simply kissed along his neck, a hand moving up to scratch at the small patch of scales just behind his ear, “I gave each of the fairies a kiss as payment for helping me make chocolate for all my loved ones.”

“...I see…” The dragon would only be flustered for so long. He turned back to Yuu, a hand under their chin to hold them still as he gently kissed their lips. Pulling away, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he smiled, “Well, do you have an offering of love for me?”

Yuu smiled back, just as mischievous. They lean back, holding up the final bag of chocolate in their possession. Tied off with green and black ribbons, filled with dark chocolate shapes of ferocious faces and bright green chocolate pearls. They smile, gesturing to the bag with an excited look, “Open and try one!”

Malleus chuckles but does as asked. He pulls a single chocolate from the bag and looks at it with a keen eye. The shape confused him at first, not knowing why they’d make his chocolates in such a form until he realized he had seen it before. The smile on his face was what Lilia had once described as ‘Lovestruck’. Yuu had taken the time and effort to make his chocolates in the shape of gargoyle faces. Placing it in his mouth, he only bit down for a moment before a shock went through his body at the flash of cold.

The laugh Yuu let was high and almost mocking if he wasn’t so familiar with it, “I’m guessing it worked then?”

“Did you…how did you fill these with ice cream?” He took another chocolate from the bag happily eating it and purring at the feeling of chilled and unmelted ice cream mixing with the bitter chocolate.

“The fairies helped me. The frost fairies were super excited to make an ice cream that wouldn’t melt in the chocolate.”

“Well, I’m glad you succeeded in your culinary endeavors.” Malleus smiles, placing the chocolate on his desk to wrap his arms around them, placing his chin on their shoulder.

Yuu hums, snuggling into Malleus's warming body with a teasing smirk, “And that I didn’t kiss Timmy?”

“Don’t refer to him by a nickname…”

They snicker, knowing Malleus had regained his pouting expression, “Anyway.” Yuu leans back, squishing his cheeks in their hands again and smiling lovingly, “You wanna be my date tonight for the party?”

Malleus’s eyes glitter at the invite, only to dim a bit as he thought, “Would that be…fair to the others? We all are your lovers, isn’t it unfair to have only one of us as your date?”

“Jamil’s gift to Azul is to formally invite him as his date for tonight.” Yuu wished she would have been there to watch Azul try to keep his cool at Jamil’s invitation, “It's just an unspoken truth that you guys are all my dates anyway…”

“Ah, an unspoken truth, you say?” Malleus reaches up, holding Yuu's hands in his own before kissing their knuckles gently, “I shall accept your invitation, both spoken and unspoken.”

Yuu giggles, pulling their hands away to weave them through Malleus’s hair. Pressed against him as they lightly scratched at the base of his horns, feeling the purr he let out, “You charmer…Oh!” They could barely pull away from Malleus's embrace, ignoring the whiney growl that the dragon let out. 

They reach into the tote, pulling out a single slip of paper. Handing it to the confused dragon, they placed their head on his shoulder as he read it over. 

When he was done, Malleus's smile widens. He carefully tucks the ticket into his desk drawer, his free hand moving to trace along their collar bone, “May I leave a mark as well?”

“Not even gonna ask me about the ticket?” Yuu raises an eyebrow, eyeing the closed drawer with a mildly concerned eye. The ticket was labeled with ‘24 Hour Free Trial Breeding Pass’. A simple ‘Get out of contract consequences’ offering since Malleus seemed so keen on trying to change their agreement at every slight inconvenience. How getting pregnant will help them pass their algebra class, they weren’t sure…

“What is there to ask? I read it and know what it offers.” Malleus kissed along their jaw, chuckling under his breath  as he picked his spot to leave a mark, “I will collect my prize when I see fit.”

…

Well, that was only mildly concerning~♡

[dimensionbled]

Is genuinely happy that Alastor has some to care about him the same way he has his own girl.

[vibratingskull]

Hello. I enjoy your writing very much , the many "diffrent " Thrawn you have are amazingly writing. May I please ask for a ThrawnxF!reader

Were reader is a redhead, and Thrawn very much loves it about her always touching her hair, telling her how much he loves it and how unique it is even among humans, hoping their child will inherent it. With some fluff/smut

I love my different Thrawns, they are my oxygen. I hope you like this chapter anon ❤️

Thrawn x F!reader

Tags : Reader has red hair, fluff, smut, breeding kink, P in V, dumbification, creampie

You pass your comb through your locks, carefully unknoting your flaming hair.  

“Let me do it for you.” Thrawn appears behind you with a soft smile. 

You smile back to him and hand him the comb, sitting comfortably in front of your hairdresser. Thrawn takes your mane delicately in his hands to pass it behind your shoulders and leave it flowing in your back. He takes a portion of it and starts gently combing your strands, with infinite delicateness.  

You observe him through the mirror, how focused he looks. It is no secret to you that your flamboyant hair absolutely fascinates him. When you first met, you felt his insisting gaze on you despite being on the other side of the room. At first, you took it as the usual male behavior of ostensibly ogling women like objects and didn’t entertain him by giving him attention and was fully ready to send him off when he approached you. 

You expected the usual “compliments” of how your skin must be soft to the touch or how pretty your plump lips would be wrapped around something other than a fork, the usual... 

“You have magnificent hair, ma’am. I never saw such color before.” He simply said. 

You looked at him without a word, waiting to see how he would segway his way to a more crude “praise” but he remained fixated on your hair with sparkling eyes. 

“Oh...” You finally responded after none came as you expected, “Thank you I... was born with it.” 

“It is your natural color? Fascinating... I saw several depictions of such hair in the arts of humans but this is the first time I have had a chance to observe it in real life, I must say the tones are even more impressive in person.” He seized his chin as he kept detailing your hair avidly. 

You could not help a little chuckle while biting your lips into silence. What was his deal? Usually, this is women complimenting your hair, but he looks like a child discovering sugar candy for the first time. 

“Does your species do not have red hair too ?” You asked back, amused. 

“No. Our shades and hair colors are unfortunately not as diverse as humans. Until now I was convinced red hair was purely an artistic vision and you are the first individual I met with that impressive color.”  

This time you overtly chuckled at his enthusiasm. He looked like he discovered a mythical creature he dreamed about all his life. You spent the rest of the party discussing together on a balcony with your alcohol glasses as only other company. He was polite and courteous, gentlemanly even. Never a bad word came soiling his lips and his hungry eyes were solely fixated on your locks, utterly fascinated. 

He remained very set back in his enthusiasm, his face stern and tone aloof but his eyes were shining so bright you didn’t need the light of the stars to see around yourself.  

To return the compliment you told him that you never saw a species with such beautiful eyes and he bowed his head, humbly accepting the praise. 

“Do you model a lot?” he asked. 

“Modeling? What for?” You tilted your head with a little grin. 

“For photographers and painters.” He responded like his interrogations where obvious. 

“Never.”  

His eyes rounded up slightly in surprise before he took back control. 

“No one ever approached you for modeling with such hair?” He asked genuinely puzzled. 

“No.” You laughed, more and more endeared to his confusion, “Red hair is not sufficient to be a model.” 

“I would paint it all day long if I was an artist.” He revealed. 

You gauged him up and down with a smirk. 

“You are a weird man, Vice-Admiral.” 

He tilted his head. 

“I am simply praising what I find beautiful.” 

To tease him you casually took out your hair pins to reveal to him your true hair length. If he was not Thrawn you were sure he would be drooling on himself right now with how entranced he appeared. 

“May I... touch?” He asked. 

“Sure!” You giggled, more and more amused. 

He delicately took a lock in his hand and squeezed it between his fingers. 

“They are very soft and smooth, it feels like silk.” 

“Thank you, I take care of my hair.” You nodded satisfied with your work. 

 “I almost hoped it would be warm to the touch...” He continued lowly, almost to himself. 

“It is simply hair.” 

“Of course. I understand the artists’ fascination for red hair now. They truly are... Mesmerizing.” 

“What are you thinking about with such a dreamy expression?” Thrawn’s calls you back to reality. 

You blink, in your shared suite on the Chimaera, with your husband combing your hair for the night. 

“Our first meeting.” You smile, satisfied, “And how hypnotized you were by my red hair.” 

“I still am today.” He sighs satisfied, “This color suits you so well, it enhances your skin and eye color perfectly, the chemical colors are poor imitations of true redheads, they lack all the fire and flamboyance of that magnificent shade.” He preaches, finishing to comb your mane. 

“Aren’t you a bit obsessive?” You laugh. 

“I am a simple servant to art and beauty.” 

You shake your head with a chuckle; 

While you remove your makeup, Thrawn applies a hair mask on your locks, nourishing your hair. 

He absolutely adores taking care of your hair. He wants to do your shampoos himself and kneels in the bathroom to clean your hair while you relax in a bubble bath, appreciating the deep head massage. He buys a ton of hair products, masks, butter, and oils to strengthen and make it shine. He takes half an hour each morning to tress your hair, adorning the usual strict military bun with discreet but sophisticated braids, little beads, and pearls of colors thread into your locks with his Chiss flair. He told you that long hair was culturally significant for Chiss and he learned plenty of braids and tresses in his youth and loves to play with our hair now, honoring his own culture through you.  

Thrawn massages the mask on your hair with great application before adding drops of oil on your root and finish it all up with some perfume. 

You love being pampered like that, you hum a tune with your eyes closed, deeply relaxed as he leans forward to dive his nose in your hair and inhales deep with a satisfied sigh.  

“I adore your hair.” He whispers like it isn’t obvious. “They are a real crown for your head.” 

He kisses the hair in his hands before putting them to the side of your neck to kiss your nape. You hum, pleased by the sensation of his lips on your skin. 

“I hope our children will inherit your hair color.” 

You chuckle. 

“But your blue-black hair is also beautiful, it suits your blue skin so well and compliment your eyes.” 

“I will argue red hair will compliment them both better.” He keeps kissing your neck. 

He slowly goes down, pulling the brace of your nightgown off your shoulder to kiss the naked skin. You cannot help a shudder at the touch of his delicate lips on your sensitive spot, his hands caressing your arms fully. He leaves pecks here and there with a pleased sigh before wrapping his arms around your bust to squeeze you tight, his nose buried in the crook of your neck. 

“You are ravishing in this little apparel...” He groans, “Will you join me in bed?” 

You give him a side glance with an amused smile. 

“Will I?” You tease. 

“Please, Ch’acah. You bring me to my knees.” He looks into your eyes brazenly, desire lighting up his eyes like it did the day of your meeting. 

You chuckle before kissing his cheek. You take his chin to rotate his face towards you and gain access to his lips. 

It is soft and delicate but so full of promises. 

His hand leaves your arm to gently grip your hair, tilting your head farther, deepening the kiss. You open your mouth to let him enter, and he moans satisfied as your tongues meet and dance together. You wrap your own arms around his shoulders, pulling him towards you. 

Thrawn breaks the kiss, leaving you panting for more and kisses the tip of your nose with a cheery gaze. 

“I love witnessing desire awakening in your eyes, Ch’acah. I love how they become dark and heavy, it makes my blood boil in anticipation.” He reveals lowly like a secret. 

You peck the corner of his lips, digging your nails in his pristine white uniform. 

“Take me to bed.” You whisper in a breath. 

He makes your stool spin and seizes your legs to lift you up bridal style. You chuckle as he carries you so easily with his powerful muscles, he delicately lays you down your double bed, nuzzling his nose with your cheek. 

“Your scent is driving me crazy lately.” He rasps between kisses all over your face, “This is a good time to try again.” 

You unbutton his jacket with trembling hands, feeling excitation rising in your veins. You use a period tracker to keep a tab on your periods and most fertile days, but Thrawn doesn’t need that. With his Chiss nose, he can pick up your pheromones in one huff and know where you are in your cycle. You stopped checking your tracker to know if he was right by now, he got it every time. 

You have longed for a baby of yours since you got together. He made it very clear that he would not get you pregnant before you felt ready to be a mom, but it was clear in his eyes that he wanted a baby now. 

But he kept true to his words, never pressuring you, taking a contraceptive of his own, until you told him you felt ready for a little one too. All heavens broke loose and he who was so reserved and with a low sex drive was suddenly all over you, touching you constantly, keeping you in bed for long hours, caressing every nook and cranny of your flesh, making passionate and sweet love to you. 

As members of two different species, procreation wasn’t impossible per se but  clearly more improbable than same species couple. You both kept track of your most fertile days, took fertility boosters, and modified your diets and habits to maximize your chances. 

But even now it has proven unsuccessful. 

It doesn’t stop you from trying. 

Thrawn gently pulls on your nightgown braces to reveal your shoulders and breast to him, he gently nips and sucks at your collarbone, his purring starting to resonate in your ears. 

You absolutely love that sound. It is so soothing and exotic. 

So... Erotic. 

His hands leave the fabric of your gown to grab your breast, kneading your bosoms well and good in his large hands. He licks his way down your collarbone to your boobs and takes on in his greedy mouth to lick and suck the nipple, letting his drool roll on your smooth skin as you wave your body under his, teasing his groin region with your hips. 

You gasp and mewl under his magical tongue as he laps avidly at your nipple while rolling and grabbing the other’s flesh with a handful, making your nip roll and pinching it between his expert fingers. 

He finally kisses your bosom to give the other the same treatment, the same loving attention. His purring is now loud and unmistakable. He groans and moans his own pleasure loudly, making sultry and obscene sounds unbecoming of a Grand Admiral of the Empire. 

But in the intimacy of your suite, he doesn’t care. This is the secret place where he can let go of the heavy mask of aloofness and detachment to reveal his more sensitive and vulnerable visage. A visage that you welcome and adore, proving to him that he can be truly himself with you and unmask and stim off when the pressure is too great, even for him. 

He finally kisses your two boobs and raises back on his knees to get rid of his white jacket and black tank top, you follow the movement into a sitting position to caress his abs and pecs. You cover his stomach with kisses and little licks with the dart of your tongue, wrapping your arms around his waist.  

His hands come caressing your hair, passing his fingers through your fiery locks to press your face against his muscular stomach with a deeply satisfied sigh, his head thrown backward in bliss. You kiss your way lower toward the hem of his pants with a big smile, you open his white trousers and pull them on his legs to reveal his boxers. 

The bulge is consequent, and despite the breathable and stretchy fabric it feels very constrictive for him, it appears really tight for his length. You leave a big kiss on the bulge, chuckling, feeling him twitch under your lips and his muscles contract under your hands. You take the hem of the boxer down to free his erection from its jail. His cock immediately rises, standing proud before your face, lengthy and girthy, making you drool terribly. 

You take his leaking shaft in your hand and gently jerk him off before taking it in your mouth. The pre-cum is salty, titillating your tastebuds pleasantly. Thrawn tenses significantly under your touch with a hiss, his abs contracting and rolling under his blue skin. You circle his crown with your tongue and a hum as you hear Thrawn gasp, his grip on your hair tightening. You start moving back and forth, welcoming as much of him as you can in your mouth, which is a feat considering his measurements. You breathe through your nose deeply, minding your gag reflex as you push him far back in your mouth working your tongue on his length and taking care to not press him between your teeth.  

His little huffs and choked gasps are so erotic, you feel your pussy waking up with warm waves, your inner muscles pleasantly contracting in excitement at each of his pants, soiling your panties. 

You moan loudly for his ears and he starts a gentle back and forth movement with his hips as you drool all over his cock, with a solid grip on his waist. He is very mindful of your comfort and takes care to not push your limits and not cause pain to your jaw. He exhales deeply, satisfied by the sensations you give him. 

“You are so good with your mouth, Ch’acah.” He rasps, trying to control the tremors of his voice under your care. “Keep going please...” 

You smile with his shaft in your mouth, humming approvingly. It took you time to be able to take so much of him in your mouth and you have all the right to be smug of your technics now. You feel him restraining his desire to fuck your mouth as his grip on your hair tightens again, pulling on your locks. 

“Ch’etecerci!” He curses, his pelvic movements getting more and more erratic. 

His hips jerk and he cums in your mouth with a long moan. You feel the long ribbons of seed on your tongue, painting your mouth in white. 

“Do not swallow yet, Ch’acah.” Thrawn pants, sweat trickling down his glorious abs and temples. 

You look up to him with your mouth full as he lowers himself, pushing you back on the mattress before kissing you languorously with a deeply pleased hum. Your tongues dance and hug each other as he tastes himself on your lips. He waves his hips against yours, humping his still-erect cock against your panties. He cups your cheek as he deepens the kiss even more, sharing saliva and semen in an obscene embrace. He parts from you with brightly shining eyes, devouring you with his hungry gaze, panting. 

“My turn.” He groans. 

He kisses the tip of your nose and lowers himself to place himself between your legs, pushing your nightgown out of his way to reveal your panties. He grips the fabric and pulls them down your legs, you raise your hips in the air to help him. 

He separates your legs wide open with his large hands to expose your pussy to his hungry red eyes. He lowly growls at that sight and you see him licking his lips. 

"Would you look at that, the obsession of my darkest thoughts...” 

And without any more ceremonies, he dives his head between your thighs and takes a big, long lick at your fold with rumbles in his chest. You gasp as he licks your pussy avidly, his long fingers gripping the delicate flesh of your thighs hard. 

“You are already quite wet, Ch’acah.” He notes playfully but with a dark and heavy gaze, “But you can do better than that!” 

He kisses, licks, laves, and laps at your pussylips, parting them with two fingers, drinking and savoring your dripping essence with loud moans and satisfied pants. You mewl and yelp in desperation at the pleasure he gives you so generously, you dig your nails in the fabric of the sheets, your body shaken by tremors. 

He loves to eat your pussy out and never misses an opportunity to dive between your legs and remind you how good at it he is. He could go on for hours if you would let him do as it pleased him... 

“Ah! Th-Thrawn...” You gasp, rolling hips against his expert lips. 

“Yes ch’eo Ch’acah?” He hums, his mouth pressed agaisnt your swollen pussylips. 

Sometimes you worry he would suffocate himself against your cunny.  

“Ah...! Don’t stop! Please... Keep going.” You beg, out of your mind. 

“Of course...”  

He kisses your fold loudly and focuses on your clit, titillating it with the dart of his warm tongue. Your legs shake violently at that new stimuli and you feel all of your blood leaving your limbs to flow to your southern mouth, puffing up your lips and inner muscles like a soft pillow.  

He flicks your pearl rapidly with his tongue, sucks the bud like candy, and makes it roll between his blue lips. You feel your cunny convulse deliciously as you struggle to catch your breath under such touches. Goosebumps flourish all over your delicate skin as he eats you out like a starving man. You feel your dripping essence and his drool rolling on your thighs and his jaw. 

His moans and grunts are so loud and lewd, obsessively resonating in your suite, ringing in your ears like delicious music, exciting you more and more. As you tremble on the mattress he humps his impressive length on the bed, rolling his hips and waving his entire body in a sultry dance, desperate for some friction. 

As your pleasure grows and spreads in your nerve endings your hips try to get away from the mouth that tortures you so easily by reflex, but Thrawn holds them down firmly, growling a warning. You will not escape him and fighting your orgasm is useless, he will have you come undone on his tongue, whether you want it or not. 

Your thighs are shaking so much that you inadvertently squeeze his face firmly between them as the spikes of pleasure send electroshocks in your leg muscles, making them tremble terribly. Blocked between the softness of your thighs and the delicacy of your dripping cunt Thrawn starts purring loudly. 

You try to reopen your legs to let him breathe but they are spasming brutally under each wave of raw bliss he gives you. You cannot even speak anymore, just letting out helpless choked gasps and strangled exhales.  

And suddenly the knot snaps and a fireball explodes in your leaking cunt. You are electrified to the core and freeze entirely in a second under such pressure. You desperately try to breathe but all your muscles are contracted. Your heart pumps furiously, softening your cunt and puffing up your pulsating clit in his mouth. Your toes curl and white fireworks explode behind your closed eyelids and you squirt in his mouth uncontrollably. His purr deepens as he receives your slick on his tongue, deeply pleased by his work. 

He laps at your swollen bud and leaking cunt one last time with a purred animalistic growl, a satisfied grin, and stands back up to hover over your lying figure. Drops of saliva and slick beads on his chin, rolling on his deep blue skin, catching the red reflections of his burning rubies. He wipes his jaw with his fingers and sucks them clean with an exaggerated satiated hum, looking straight into your eyes without any shame. 

“A divine taste, as always Ch’acah.” He comments, letting go of his fingers with a resonding pop. 

Your chest rises up and down rapidly, your heart in a frenzy, and sweat rolling on your heated skin. He lowers himself to nudge his nose with yours and you peck his tip with an exhaled laugh. 

“I love you, Ch’acah.” He whispers so low, his hand tenderly cupping your cheek, and with the softest gaze you ever see, “Please, do not forget it...” 

You take his face between your two hands to caress his cheekbones softly, your eyes deeply bored into his. He often worries you will forget his love and leave him behind, choosing a younger lover to satisfy you. His fear of abandonment is deeply intertwined in the memories of his sister’s disappearance, the powerless feeling due to the death of his brother, the ungratefulness the Ascendancy displayed at his hardest efforts to keep it safe, and his personal perception as a weapon and a tool. 

He fears so deeply that once you used him he will be tossed aside and be forgotten. He factually knows it won’t happen, that you are not heartless to abandon him like that, but it is so deeply ingrained in him that he cannot shake it off, especially after he felt comfortable enough with you to open himself up. 

“I know, Ch’acah.” You respond in the same tone, “Do not forget that I love you just the same. I am the happiest I have ever been in my entire life at your side.” You force his face down to languorously kiss him, robbing him of his air, “I love you so, so much! Like I never loved before.” 

He presses you tighter against his huge body, threatening to crush you under his weight but you don’t want to be anywhere else! He lets out a breath, your foreheads against the other. 

“Will you give me a baby?” He asks. 

“Of course, Ch’acah.” You brightly smile to him, “I will give you as many as you desire.” 

“Redheads like you?” 

This time you burst out laughing. He really stands by it, doesn’t he? 

He playfully pecks your neck now that the atmosphere is lighter and positions himself between your legs, his leaking cock twitching in anticipation. He takes it in his hand and spreads his pre-cum on all the length as preparation. 

“I know you will.” He finally notes and pushes his length inside your wet pussy.”They will all be perfect just like you.” 

As always he stretches you out so much, forcing your mouth in a perfect ‘O’ as your fluffy muscles extend all around his girthy shaft in an attempt to welcome him whole inside.  

You know you are going to be so sore after this night. He always leaves you like that. But he takes it as an opportunity to massage your lower tummy or eat you out again to help your bruised muscles to relax. 

He seizes your hips to reposition himself better, pushing deeper and deeper, burying himself to the hilt in the warm and welcoming embrace of your inner flesh. He sighs longly when he is fully in, letting you a moment to adjust. 

“You squeeze me so much, Ch’acah.” He lets out between his greeted teeth as his abdominals contract repeatedly under the pleasure he feels just being inside. 

You cannot resist and tense your cunny several time around his shaft, making him gasp and tremble lightly. 

“Do not toy with me, Ch’acah.” He warns breathless. 

You look at him insolently with a pleased smile. 

“I am simply inviting you to start moving.” You innocently respond. 

He rolls his hips sultrily, earning a moan from you, much to his satisfaction. And he starts thrusting his hips with a rapid pace. 

The thrusts are deep and languorous, and the rhythm is quick but it is sweet and loving sex, as always with him. 

You roll your hips with his, meeting his tempo, undulating your body under his as he ruts into you, his nose buried in your neck, lazily licking and pecking your skin, his large hands gripping your side hard. You circle his waist with your legs and his shoulders with your arm to hug him tight in a big bear hug, imprisoning him in your embrace, defending him to ever stop his thrusts in your greedy pussy. 

The back and forth is a tad painful considering his size and length, forcing your cunt to stretch at its maximum to welcome him fully, but it is a diffuse pain that melts and disappears in the ocean of pleasure his hips give you. His preparation helps tremendously too, your slick acting like a potent lubricant with his pre-cum. He waves his hips expertly, knowing perfectly what will make you cry of pleasure and cream around his cock.  

He hits all the sweet spots easily, making you shudder and tremble and moan uncontrollably. You contract and tense your pussy to tease and play with him, earning choked gasps and low growled purrs as he ruts into you with abandon. 

“Will you give me a baby girl?” He demands breathily, “A cute little one to cradle.” 

He asks you this question each time you try for a baby. You know he will be terribly happy with a son but his eyes sparkle so much when he speaks about having a baby girl, already fantasizing about giving her her first painting lessons and Shah-tezh sessions, preparing her for the world, to make her a conqueror and protector of everything she deems worthy.  

So many men pride themself in only having sons, he instead desires a little girl for himself. He holds women in such high regard and respect, that fathering a girl is one of the highest accomplishments he can hope to achieve in his life. 

“A sweet baby girl...” He pecks your face all over, cheeks, nose, temples, forehead, chin, and jaw, “She will be the most intelligent and perfect being in existence. The entire universe will be better for it...” 

You feel him getting unhinged talking about your future baby like that. They do not even exist yet but you feel his heart ready to burst out of love for them already. His thrusts deepen and accelerate and you feel his cock throbbing inside your vagina. He is eager to come inside you but not before you come first. 

“Yes, Thrawn. I will give you a daughter.” You promise with a broad smile under all those sweet kisses, “Several if you want.” 

“Several... Would you do it for me, Ch’acah? Bless me with several children?” He huffs, full of hope, “Carrying many of my babies?” 

“Of course love.” You kiss the tip of his nose back, “For you I will. I will give you a large family.” 

He slows down his movement to cup your cheeks and look deep into your human eyes. His disheveled hair frame his gorgeous face, sweat dripping off his temples while his red eyes shine and burn of untold desires. He considers you in silence for a minute, like he has trouble registering that you are here with him. He then lowers himself to kiss you languorously, entering your mouth to play and dance with your tongue with a deep pure resonating through his chest to his throat. 

He suddenly resumes his hard and rapid thrusts into your leaking pussy, making you moan in surprise and pleasure, making you bite his tongue in confusion.  

That doesn’t stop him, quite the contrary.  

You can hear a roar rising in his chest, muffled by your sultry kiss as he pounds savagely into you, the sound of wet flesh hitting wet flesh resonating obsessively in your bedroom, making your head light and fuzzy. 

He parts from you, growling like a predator, and stands on his knees, forcing your hips up in the air. He holds them firmly in his large hands as he obscenely ruts into you. This new position allows you to admire his abs rolling under his thick Chiss skin gleaming with sweat. You gulp before his athletic body, sculpted by the Maker Themself. He pants, throwing all his energy into your love-making. 

Useless to say that if Thrawn ends up tired after sex, you end up absolutely exhausted and destroyed. Your stamina is no match for his and he always gives you so much each time... 

“My sweet wife... Letting me breed her as I please...” He says between devastating plunges, rendering your brain mushy with all the bliss, “I knew I chose you well. That you will rise up to the challenge.”  

He licks his fingers lewdly, wetting them well before starting to caress your clit. He circles it, caresses it, titillates it, teases it, flicks it sending chocks of raw pleasures in your nerve endings. You’re shaken at each little wave, inadvertently squeezing his cock as your muscles contract, making him grin. He accelerates his ministrations on your pearl, locking into your eyes, pressing it down, and torturously grazing it, giving it love and attention until you are a complete shacking mess under his touch. You feel your legs trembling dangerously and ready to give up but Thrawn holds you tight, impaling you mercilessly on his erection. 

“I love how your little pussy squeezes my cock when I enter you and how it strangles it entirely when you get close.” He lets you know with dark satisfaction, looking down at you from all his height. 

He keeps going on your clit, making you drool on yourself, the combination of his thrusts and caress being too much on your poor body. 

“It craves to be bred so badly, I can only oblige. Do you like that idea, Ch’acah? Me breeding you thoroughly until you are full and round with our child?” He darkly purrs. 

You can only nod in desperation. You lost all your words and the remnant of your sanity under his care, leaving you brainless and craving for your orgasm. 

“Cockdrunk my sweet?” He playfully mocks, “This expression of bliss on your face is pure art, Ch’acah, I want to see it every day...” He promises, accentuating his rut to toy with your poor body, “Let me breed you, love. I will fuck multiple babies into you, as many as you want, I will give them all to you.” 

You are no more than a fleshlight for him to abuse and bully his cock into, he flicks and pinches your clit between his fingers making you cream even more.  

“Blast! You should see yourself right now! Fucked stupid with your red hair as a crown all around your beautiful expression. I cannot wait to see you pregnant, all round and heavy with my baby.” He rasps, “You were gorgeous before but you will break so many hearts with your swollen, pregnant belly. But you are mine! Mine alone! For me to breed and love all day long. I will show you off everywhere for everyone to see and despair that you are not theirs!” 

He punctuates each word with a devastating pounding motion and caress of your clit until your pussy convulses all around his big cock as you cum in a scream of his name. Your entire body contract violently under the shockwaves of pure pleasure, your toes curling and your eyes rolling inside your head, your pussy pulsating hard and kneading his length, squirting on his cock. 

He finishes with powerful thrusts, spurting hot ribbons of white seed in your spasming sex, milking him for all his worth. He throws his head backward as his orgasm washes over him with a long moan that will haunt your most depraved fantasies from now on.  

He lowers his hips to lay on you once again as your pussy keeps hugging him tight as your own orgasm slowly dissipates, allowing you to descend for the high. You gasp and pant, catching your breath as his body weighs down on yours, his hands coming to cup your cheek and caressing your red hair lovingly. 

The only thing you can hear right now is Thrawn’s pleased purr. So clear and unmisitkable. He nudges your noses and lazily kisses your nose with a small smile. 

Your hands circle his shoulders to press him tighter aginst your sweaty and exhausted body. 

“Ch'ah ch'acah vah.” He whispers, his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “Thank you...” 

“For what?” you ask tiredly, feeling your sprinting heart slowly slowing down. 

“For being with me, for indulging me.” Thrawn pecks the tip of your nose, “You are the only one I trust.” 

You hum in response, hugging him to show him your love.  

“Do you think we did it?” You ask after a moment of silence, spent cradling each other in a pleasant warm embrace. 

“Maybe... We can do it again, to maximize our chances.” 

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: Vil and Rook celebrate your birthday <33

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: this is a birthday present for @v-anrouge!! i hope i did your boys justice ^^"

With Vil Schoenheit, everything was supposed to be perfect. He did everything to the best of his ability and never slacked off, even when corners could be cut. Today, your birthday, was yet another day when the entirety of Pomfiore dorm was following those principles.

An invitation, delivered to you by none other than Epel, coaxes you from the confines of Ramshackle. The morning air is chilly, but with Epel by your side and the smile on his face, you find that you’re not cold. Once you reach Pomfiore, the bright, shining doors open like the gates of heaven, and you’re hit with warmth and the smell of good food.

Vil greets you by the door, the first one in line to wish you a happy birthday. There’s a gentle smile on his face as he raises his arms, purple fabric draping from his arms like the leaves of a willow tree. You fall into him as easily as the wind rustling the branches, and he encases you in a hug that smells like warmth and expensive cologne.

A kiss is pressed just behind your ear, an action hidden from the rest of the room. Your breath catches in your throat as you tense, but you can feel him smile into your skin at your embarrassment. What a tease he can be.

“Happy birthday, my dear.” he pulls away and yet keeps holding you close, the spot he kissed tingling under his lidded gaze, “I do hope you will enjoy today.”

The decorations were chosen carefully and tailored to suit your tastes. Rook was at the forefront of this, swooning about how your favorite colors were shades of beauty, rivaling gems and stars, and when blended together, they were lovely, just like you.

When you arrive, Rook watches you hug Vil with tears in his eyes. It’s a beautiful display of affection on a day that is entirely yours, and for you to choose them to spend it with has his heart beating out of his chest. He almost bursts from pure, unbridled joy when you break away from Vil and gaze upon him, your eyes wondrous and mysterious.

Rook sweeps his arms out, a wide grin on his face as he takes you in. There’s a small lipstick mark left by Vil, but Rook elects to leave it unnoticed. Nobody in the room is as observant as he is anyway, which is why he notices the straightening of your back and the shimmering in your eyes and the way your lips twitch when you run to him.

It’s a beautiful thing, when you collide. His hat is knocked off his head as he catches you, arms far stronger than many give him credit for. Your legs swing up into the air at the force of your hug, arms thrown around his shoulders as your face is tucked into the crook of his neck.

“Oh, my darling Trickster.” he croons, helping you stay balanced as you find your way back to the ground, “There has never been a more beautiful day.”

[comicaurora]

Y’know, I never really got constellations. Like sure, the myths are fun and the night sky is amazing to behold, but like, they don’t actually look like what they’re supposed to be. It just feels like: look up at the sky, see those three stars there? You can draw this weird box around it and it looks like a man! And it doesn’t, it’s just a stupid box or line of stars that don’t look anything like anything. And it isn’t even that the shapes of the constellations themselves are asspulls, it’s how arbitrary they are. There are stars Everywhere in the night sky, why is this star part of dragon or virgo or whatever but not this one? I could just look to the sky, trace some random points and go “hey look it’s the constellation sixtyninus” and it probably would look More like what I said it would look like then the weird ass boxes and sticks that are supposed to be fish and scorpions and waterboys and bears.

Constellations make more sense when you start thinking about them on the timescale of multiple years instead of on a single night stargazing.

The sky changes. This is the number one thing everybody knows about the sky. The sun moves through it, making everything bright and warm. When the sun isn't there, things are dark and cold, but there are stars - untold billions of tiny lights, fading in and out as the sun leaves and returns. There's the moon, moving and changing every night but reliably visible, sometimes even faintly during the day. There are bright stars that move, where the other stars don't.

That is a lot of stuff for the pattern-recognition brain to think about.

It doesn't initially look like the stars move. That is, they move through the night at the same rate the sun does - tracing great circles - but they don't move relative to each other, except for the unusually bright wandering stars that seem to be doing their own thing.

Except over the course of a week, or a month, the stars have moved. Some that used to be visible have set. Some new ones have risen. Why is that?

The moon moves quickly and predictably. The wandering stars move slowly, and some of them are more predictable than others. On rare occasions a star will fall, but these events are unpredictable. The "fixed stars" don't move, except that which stars you can see change during the course of the year.

What does it mean, that different stars dominate the night sky at different times of year? Why does one star's heliacal rising herald the coming of rains? Why does a red star shine before the cold sets in?

It's very important to know when the cold is coming. Maybe it's a good idea to pay attention to some of those stars.

What's the easiest way to keep track of which stars are which? Some are brighter than others, a handful are reddish - but ultimately one star is much like any other, a shimmering pinprick of light. How do you keep track of which stars herald the cold, the rains, the harvest?

You find patterns.

At the height of summer, in the pre-dawn hours, we begin to see a cluster of seven stars that sits behind a large V-shaped pattern that centers on a single red star. If we envision the V as horns and the red star as a blazing eye, we find the Bull of Heaven. If we follow the bull's gaze as the days grow shorter and the nights grow colder, we see another figure slowly emerging from below the horizon. We find the rough shape of a man, one arm raised high over his head, three stars shining at his waist. Perhaps we imagine this man to be a hunter. Perhaps he is hunting the bull, turned back in furious challenge. Perhaps he is hunting the clustered stars on its shoulder. Perhaps we envision the seven stars as sisters, running from the hunter as they arc across the night sky. Perhaps we notice that, where our grandmothers described seven stars, we can see only six. Perhaps we wonder where the seventh sister went.

As the year turns on, the seven stars disappear. The bull fades in the light of sunset. The hunter gets closer to the sun. And far behind him, on the opposite side of the sky, another red star rises as the hunter falls, the heart of a hook-shaped silhouette flanked by two grasping claws. Perhaps we envision this ominous shape as a scorpion, chasing the Hunter from the skies. It sits high in the sky as the warm spring rains turn to burning, arid nights; perhaps we feel justified in imagining it as a dangerous desert creature.

In the north sits a star that does not move, and circling it as its guardian, two rectangular arrangements with long, trailing tails, one large and one small. It is good to know how to find your way, and these patterns can steer you north on moonless nights. Perhaps you see the trailing stars as hunters in pursuit of enormous prey. Perhaps it appears to you as a celestial plough, slowly churning the skies, never touching the earth. You note the resemblance between the large and the small pattern and wonder if they are mother and child. You wonder about a lot of things when you're alone in the dark.

But are you alone? When you look up, it is difficult to feel that way. The stars are the same ones your ancestors walked under, and you think of them and their stories as you trace the patterns they once guided your eyes through. Perhaps you imagine them, gone but not forgotten, warming themself at a stellar campfire in the high, infinite halls of your gods.

And because of them, you know when the rains will come.

[count-a-w-k]

By A.W. Kerrison

Chapter-I - Chapter-II - Chapter-III - Chapter-IV - Chapter-V - Chapter-VI Book 2 Preview

In the beginning, as humans slowly began to evolve and set out on a journey to an unknown future, they had no idea that they were being watched over by unknown beings, observing them from afar. These beings decided to help guide humanity to a righteous path, lest they be doomed to extinction.

On a cold evening in the middle of a desert, two transparent figures stand on top of a rock formation. They are looking down on a large group of cavemen, examining them dancing around a campfire. These transparent figures resemble a human in shape, but their bodies have no features on them. Something suggests they don’t belong to this universe. One of them starts talking to the other.

 “Well Dinon, I see the humans have finally discovered fire. Is this the start of their technological development?”

“Of course, Sikan. It really makes me wonder if any the other races of humans which have arisen on distant worlds have reached this stage yet.”

“Yeah, well we knew it would come to this. But will these humans ever meet the others out there in this ever-expanding universe?”

“Maybe one day they will, but then maybe they won’t. Remember, we have seen many possible futures for these humans. But that will be decided once these have evolved more,” replies Dinon. “Only time will tell.”

“Ah yes, the different possible futures. But they didn’t have any Guzilumans watching over them, in those futures.”

“Well Sikan, they will have them now. Shall we pick a human who will bear the first Guziluman then?”

“Of course. Which one do you have in mind?” says Sikan looking down at the group of humans dancing around the fire.

Dinon points out a female, sitting alone off to one side.

“Her, the one with the dark hair sitting alone,” explains Dinon. “She will bear the first of the Guziluman race.”

“Are you sure Dinon? She looks a bit weak to me…”

“She may look weak Sikan, but appearances can be deceiving. She will never even know how she became pregnant.”

“OK Dinon. It’s your choice. But in a thousand years when we return, I get to choose who will bear the next Guziluman.”

Dinon looks up at the night sky and a small bright light comes down, like a star that has left the heavens. One of the humans notices it and warns his fellows that the starry sky is about to rain down on them. They begin to panic and run off in different directions, while the small bright light targets the dark-haired woman and is absorbed into her stomach. The others notice what has happened to this poor woman, so they approach her, looking at her strangely. Then a male begins to beat her with his club. He is almost immediately followed by others, only stopping when the woman is dead. Dinon and Sikan look at each other in shock at what they have just witnessed.

“Oh dear Dinon, I never expected that to happen!”

“I forgot Sikan, they are Neanderthals!” Sikan places its face into the palm of its left hand, realising they are in the wrong era!

New York City, August 31st, 1988.

An ambulance has just left a car park in downtown Manhattan, heading for the local mortuary. Inside lies a black body bag on top of a trolley. The ambulance travels along the streets of Manhattan with the lit streetlamps shining down as it passes them, eventually stopping outside a building within viewing distance of the Hudson River. The two paramedics get out from the front of the vehicle and proceed towards the rear doors, open them, and pull out the body-bag laden trolley. They push the stretcher through the front entrance of the building, down a dimly lit corridor, through a set of double doors and straight into an autopsy suite. One of them manoeuvres the trolley next to an autopsy table, onto which they move the body bag. A morgue attendant walks towards the table and unzips the bag, opening it up to reveal the face of a clean-shaven white human male with a bald head. He is strikingly good looking, with no facial scars, but he has a massive six-inch hole in the middle of his chest.

 “Poor guy,” he mutters to himself, then turns to the paramedics “let’s get him out of the bag and ready for processing.”

Two hours later, the body is under a white sheet on a metal autopsy table. It is yet to be seen by one of the medical examiners.

In walks a tall woman wearing green scrubs. 5’11, she has brunette hair, brown eyes and a beautiful warm look to her face. Walking over to the desk in the corner of the room, she puts on a pair of spectacles, picks up a clipboard and carefully reads through the paperwork. Putting the clipboard down on the desk, she turns around and walks over to the autopsy table. She pulls back the white sheet, takes a long, careful look at the man then pulls out a Dictaphone from her left pocket and presses the record button.

“It is precisely 1:04 a.m. and the date is September 1st, 1988. This is Doctor Helen Walters reporting. Subject is a white male, late thirties, or early forties, identified as John Doe on his paperwork. The only visible trauma is a hole approximately” she measures the wound “six inches across, in the middle of his chest which goes completely through the torso. However, his spine appears to be perfectly intact.” she says into the Dictaphone. “From the report the paramedics gave, time of death was at 10:30pm precisely. Two and half hours ago, on 31st of August.”

From the corner of her eye, she notices a scalpel on the table start to vibrate. She looks down at it and suddenly the entire room begins to shake, as if an earthquake has hit the room. She falls to the floor, dropping the Dictaphone which breaks on impact.

“Damn it, I hope they haven’t started subway works already at this time of night!” she mutters to herself. She notices the Dictaphone has broken, picks it up and gets to her feet. Staring at the autopsy table, Helen notices the John Doe’s body begins to twitch slowly. Then a white aura starts to surround the entirety of the man’s body. Startled, Helen steps away from the table, looking at the body in horror. She sees the hole in man’s chest heal up as if it had never existed. Then the aura disappears and the man’s eyes open wide as he bolts upright, breathing in a gasp of air. It is as if she has seen Frankenstein’s monster risen before her. The man looks around and notices Helen standing there frightened out of her life. He looks down at his chest and sees that the hole has disappeared, then looks up and stares around the room, as if wondering how he got there. Looking at Helen, he starts speaking to her in an English accent.

“Greetings! My name is Hawken. Sorry if I've just scared you to death, but I would like to know - where on terra am I?”

Helen stares at him, with her eyes wide open. She then starts speaking to him slowly. “You were dead a minute ago, how in God’s name did you come back to life and what the hell are you?”

“I am a Guziluman” Hawken replies calmly to her.

“A what?” says Helen confused.

“Guziluman. I am one of a group of seven people who have a life span of four thousand years!” he says to her calmly.

“That is impossible, no one can live for four thousand years!” she argues, looking at him with shock.

“Well, my race can. You see we have these godlike powers, but they are really called Guzilkion. It is a part of what you would call our DNA. But we can’t live past our four thousand year life span.”

“Wait a minute, you’re telling me that you can live up to four thousand years? Also you can’t cheat your life span. Why are you telling me this?” she responds, understandably having difficulty taking this information in.

“Well you are the first human to witness me come back to life,” he explains, “but my life will end in the next twelve years anyway.”

“Oh right. So what you are saying is that you come to the end soon?”

“Yes. But at the moment I’m just trying to witness what I can in the time I have left before I depart this world.”

“Tell me, how did you end up in that car park?” she asks.

“Well, all I can remember is watching a fight between two drunk men outside a bar from across the street, when someone tapped me on my shoulder. As I turned around it went dark and I awoke in this room!” The man, Hawken, relates the story with a curious expression on his face.

 “So, you don’t know who or what put a hole in your chest?” Helen clarifies.

“I have no idea, but I will find out in due course!”

Getting up off the table, he looks around the room. “I would like to know where my clothes are?” he asks.

“They are with the forensics team, at the moment. I don’t have access to them.” she says, gazing at his naked body.

“Oh dear, lucky I left my wallet at home.” He replies. “Oh well, might as well find some clothes in this building then.”

“Well, I can get some spare scrubs for you from the storage room,” She says to him, “But when I get back, I want to know how you came to be, starting from the beginning.”

“Of course, I will tell you about my life from the beginning. By the way what is your name,” he politely asks her.

“My name is Helen Walters; however you can call me Helen,” she replies before leaving the room.

He watches her leave the room, then starts talking to himself. “Well, who ever tried to kill me is going to be very sorry! They picked on the wrong person to mess with, plus they will regret it if Zilstarr ever shows up and gets hold of them!”

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

BTS Career/Love Energy (September)

Alright, let's look into the energies on deck for them regarding their career and love life for this month.

Jin

Career (9 of Wands)-He seems to have his guard up regarding his career, probably learning to say no to things, standing his ground in some ways. He may be a bit overwhelmed of all the things he may need to do, but he isn't trying to overburden himself or exhaust himself too much.

Love (The Star)-He is hopeful and optimistic when it comes to love. He may enjoy night dates looking at the stars. He might do that from time to time. He may also find love healing and theraputic.

Suga

Career (The Magician)-It seems he has a lot at his disposal when it comes to his career. He has the ability to cook up many things. He might even be creating things, while in the Military, not sure how. It seems like he has all the tools he needs to get whatever he wants out there.

Love (Judgment)-Bruh, this gives me such Pisces energy. I just I will save you. Bruh, how I see some Pisces men being those savior type of guys. Like they want someone they can save and help, not sure he has someone, but this gives me he is that type of boyfriend that wants someone he can save.

RM

Career (Queen of Sword)-Will he be putting out something with a QOS energy? Interesting card to get for his career energy. I don't really feel this is his energy. He may be getting ideas with a very intellectual, smart woman, someone good with words. I mean this could be a bit of him, being a wordsmith as he is. That word came to mind. Umm, had to look up wordsmith, because I kind of thought I knew what that was, but has to look it up to be sure, so yeah, that makes sense from him. Great lyricism is important to him, so maybe working with someone like that is what he is doing, or learning from that person, or he is gaining that knowledge for himself.

Love (Ace of Cups)-This card tends to represent a new love interest, or just falling in love with someone again, so there could be someone in his life atm. It is like a newfound love for someone. Or he is opening his heart to someone.

Jhope

Career (Strength)-He seems to be pretty confident when it comes to his career. He feels proud and good about what he has created. He feels in power. It is like he can take on anything when it comes to his career.

Love (The Moon)-Hmm, there could be things hidden, some illusions, some need to do inner work, a struggle to showcase emotions here. Not in the best place regarding love here. This card shows me a need to rest or take a break from it all at the moment.

V

Career (4 of Wands)-He seems pretty happy and comfortable when it comes to his career. He feels at home. There is good energy when it comes to his career. He feels successful and stable. There is a lot to celebrate regarding his career. It is like when he thinks about his career, he feels happy and good about it.

Love (10 of Cups)-He could possibly see a future with someone, want a family with that person, or this is something he just wants, that happily ever after, that happy family life. Dude is a family man.

Jimin

Career (6 of Cups rv)-This showed up reversed, he's kind of stuck in the past regarding his career, which not sure why? Does he want things to be how it used to be? Does he prefer the group to be together, rather than being solo? It is kind of like he holds on to the past very strongly here. I also get stunted, and hard to mature or grow here.

Love (Ace of Pentacles)-To him for love, it has to be the right opportunity for him. Don't think he is looking for love. He seems pretty cautious about beginning something new. Right time, right circumstances is coming to me. Also, maybe he will meet someone in his career. Ther may need to be a foundation there.

Jungkook

Career (Queen of Wands)-Not surprised he got this. He shines like a star. He gathers all the attention. He shines bright, without really trying to be honest. He radiates beauty, charm and magnetic energy. He just pulls people towards him, without much effort. He just has that energy.

Love (7 of Wands)-Ya'll know how I feel about this one. He is protective and guarded in love. I see him not wanting his relationships to be in the spotlight. He likes his privacy. It is like back off and stay away. He would be defensive when it comes to his love life.